65 Realising

“Then the human said...”

Xadier nudged Ashel in the ribs.

“What did you do that for?  You’ve ruined the punchline!”

Xadier nodded across at Helen who had sat through the rest of the joke silent but tense.

“Oh, Eleen doesn’t mind a few human jokes.  Don’t know why you’re so touchy all of a sudden,” replied Ashel, dismissively.

“Actually, I do mind the human jokes,” Helen said, “and I want to thank you, Xadier, for standing up for me.”

Xadier shrugged.  “Don’t mention it.”

“Why is this suddenly a big deal?” asked Ashel.  “It’s never bothered you before.”

“Just because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean it didn’t bother me.”

“Gods.  You’re not going to become some ‘human lives matter’ bore, are you?”

Helen stared at her friend.  “You think my life doesn’t matter?”

Looking uncomfortable, Ashel replied, “Of course your life matters.  You’re my friend.  I don’t even think of you as human.”

“You don’t...  Then what do you think of me as?”

“Well, normal.”

Helen took a deep breath, willing herself to be calm.  “And what’s ‘normal’?”

“Well, normal.  Like...”

“Do not finish that sentence,” warned Xadier, earning another grateful glance from Helen.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”  Ashel was sulky now, feeling offended.

“Let me guess,” said Helen, quietly.  “You were going to say, ‘Like lendinians.’, weren’t you.”

“Maybe.  But you dress like us, talk like us – what's that about if it isn’t trying to fit in.  Like your sunglasses; you wear three lens sunglasses like normal people.”

Removing her sunglasses, Helen opened her two eyes as wide as she could.  Ashel recoiled involuntarily but noticeably.  “Take your sunglasses off,” said Helen.

Ashel pouted but Xadier complied, with a sigh.  Xadier’s three eyes were revealed but only the middle one remained open.  There was an uncomfortable moment where they tried to maintain eye-contact before both gave a rueful smile and replaced their sunglasses.

“Why do you think I wear these?” asked Helen.

“To protect your eyes from the sun,” Ashel replied quickly.

“Well, yeah – but I meant these particularly.  It’s possible to get two lens sunglasses, but they’re ridiculously expensive and I can’t afford them.  So I wear these, even though the third lens rubs my forehead.

“Why do you wear them, Ashel?”

“Because the sun would damage my eyes if I didn’t, of course.”

“Yes - because your species is no more native to Cassidia than humans are but you got here first, so you get to call it ‘your’ planet and accuse us of being invaders.”

Xadier held up a hand.  “Hey, it’s a long time since you were called that, ‘El-en.  You have full rights, now – inter-species marriage, work-place rights, voting...”

“Ah, yes, voting.  Voter registration involves a retinal scan and how many human retinal scanners do you think are in this city, let alone the whole planet?”

“I... hadn’t thought about it...” mumbled Xadier.

“You can’t blame us for being wary of you, though,” Ashel said, filling the awkward silence, “after what you did to your planet.”

Helen bit her lip but was saved from having to say anything by the other lendinian.  “That has been debunked so many times, Ash!  Have you ever listened during Human History Month?”

“And that’s another thing; if humans have contributed so much to the galaxy, why do we have ‘Human History Month’?  Why not include it as part of normal history?”

“Good question, Ashel,” smiled Helen.  “I’ve often asked the same thing but never got a straight answer.”

The three lapsed into silence for a few moments and Helen’s gaze wandered across the school playground.  Small groups of students were scattered across the grass and tarmac, sitting on benches and leaning on walls.  In most cases, they were single-species groups; occasionally there was another mixed group of lendinians with one or two humans, but there were none with a majority of humans or an even split.  Of course, most human children still went to human schools.  She had cousins who only saw lendinians on television.

Her reverie was broken by a hand on her arm; surprisingly, it was Ashel’s.  “I’m sorry about the human joke.”

“Forget about it.  Just... I’m here; learn from me.”

“I will, ‘El-en.”