Part 8: Shy Town

Toby wasn't exactly thrilled to be talking to Saos on his own. He'd have loved to before, but recent events had made him much less trustful of his corporate masters. Still, if it meant he could talk to his parents, then he'd do it a thousand times over. The garish yellow sheen of her avatar burned his vision. A piercing light in the evening gloom that only wavered with the occasional bump and shudder of the vehicle as it barreled atop the road.

“So, in other words," Saos began, clearly as unamused with the situation as he was. “You want me to find two low tech hicks from Terra, pilfer their contact details, and give them to you with no questions asked and nothing to gain for myself?"

“Saos, look-“ He tried to say in a panic.

The AI didn't let him finish. When she spoke and acted like a person, it was easy to forget just how powerful a machine Saos truly was. Before he could blink, Toby's yutri was filled with more information than he could ever dream of using. Not only their contact details, but recent photographs, baby pictures, medical history. All retrieved at a frightening speed. Even if they'd began to show their age since he last saw them, there was no mistaking faces like those. There were only two mugs ugly enough to make one like his.

“Declan and Gladys Waugh. Residents of Bath, England. Currently running a video call service to teach non-humans about their religion. They're even open at this hour, how exciting! Would you like me to call them for you?"

Potential violation of privacy rights aside, Toby had a lot to grapple with. The implications. The opportunities. Five years of silence could have ended in moments. Toby might well have refused Saos's offer just to mentally collect himself, but the gradual slowing of the vehicle forced his hand. He and Mae had prior engagements. The rest could wait.

“Later. I have somewhere to be."

Toby cut the line before Saos could interrogate him further. Not the best of career moves, he knew. However, seeing Da-hwinn's immense structures through the windshield had his mind drifting all over the place. Equal parts rebellious and concerned for their future. Regardless of anything about 'proxies' or connecting people, he doubted the brass would give Sixth Eye a full hearing.

“Toby?"

And like shade in the desert, Mae's voice brought him relief. This was her idea, and he agreed to it. He had to remember that. Massive hands awaited him beneath his cabinet. A platform to support him physically, as he would do for her and her dreams vocally.

“Are you ready to go?"

He could see it all over her. She was as scared of the fallout as he was, but her determination shone through. Her burgeoning confidence was incredible to see, and he would nurture it however he could. “With you around? Always." Toby told her, beaming at her, as he took unburdened steps into a yearning palm.

Loving hands enclosed him, pressing his smaller body Mae's chest, and he was bathed in her body heat once more. She purred, mewled, and even made these strange chuffing sounds he'd never heard before. He didn't know if Earth cats did the same, but the affection behind them meant he saw no issue. She lay slow, warm strokes along his back. Strong and immensely comforting.

“Thank you. You always risk so much for me. Face people so much bigger than you every day. Show bravery that I could never replicate. I could never tell you how much you mean to me, Toby, but I am so glad that you came into my life."

Toby melted into the touch of her nose against his body, barely lucid enough to lay some much appreciated scratches beneath Mae's chin. He still couldn't name what he felt for her, but that just meant Mae was right. No words could possibly match up. Instead, he settled on something short, sweet and immediate.

“Me too."

In a fit of unbridled joy, Mae left one long lick atop Toby's hair, barbed tongue and all. Any number of words could describe its texture. Rough. Bumpy. Bristling. Yet no part of it felt unpleasant. Tongues were very common in non-human affection, especially for predators. But between the blush her lick left him with and the storm of chuffs and purrs that followed, Toby wagered the emotions behind it were anything but 'common'. If only he could say it to her face.

Having said and done all she wanted to, Mae cracked the door open and slipped out into the cold Tebeish air. Snow still trickled its way across the ground, so thin to the aliens that they hadn't bothered to clear it away. White, arcing buildings stretched higher than his vision, tangled with otherworldly macroflora. Potted plants bigger than oak trees lined the windowsills, sharing their idle existences with colorful flowers that firemen could slide down. Even with all of this in front of him, Toby didn't feel small anymore. Mae made that so much harder.

“We're meeting Kamh'sen at a café to the East." Mae informed him, her embrace only tightening.

“Lead the way." Toby said, as much with his hands as he did his voice.

Without another word, Mae led him through the curving pathway that bridged the parking area to the rest of the city. And what a city it was. Both the biggest on Tebeish and the biggest he'd ever seen, let alone entered. Walking across one block might have taken days for a human. Weeks, even. But a city was nothing without its people. Alien civilians, bigger than the buildings he'd have walked past on his world's equivalent metropoles. The occasional vehicle rolled on by, half as many in the air as on the ground. Their busses dwarfed stadiums. Toby thanked whoever was listening for his ear protection. Without it, the city bustle may have rendered him deaf on the spot.

Size difference or not, he could barely follow the route that Mae had taken him on. So many turns, detours and roundabouts. All while strange looks from pedestrians became more frequent. Their stares never lingered for more than a second, and always carried some blend of curiosity and ignorant disbelief. A familiar story, and a sad one at that. It humbled him to see how similar they reacted to the people back in New Alice Springs. But Toby knew that they could help this colony change its course.

Kamh'sen's requested Café came into view. A rather quaint sight compared its auspicious surroundings. A round white single floor diner that served a few dozen alien customers. Vines tattooed the building's side, and flowers bloomed out of season through their tangles. Two recognizable ralai sat around a square metal table, not too far away from a massive arkatian in a DragonForce t-shirt, of all things. One, a black furred panther with a round stomach. The other, a massive tiger who bristled with strength. The former noticed them first, and she practically leapt from her seat to greet them.

“Mae! Toby! Over here!"

Kamh'sen yanked her down to shut her up, but the damage was already done. Every other patron became a voyeur. Mae moved to hide him from their prying eyes, but his hasty reassurances stopped her in her tracks. Running and hiding would have made everything they'd done a waste of time. Tempting, but a waste of time.

--

Mae was jumpy as ever when she took her seat. Toby was laid bare for all to see, and strangers from every angle wanted a glimpse. Kamh'sen, however, remained calm and collected. Somebody had to be.

“Mae, Toby." Kamh'sen lent a wave to them both. “What a relief to see you two in good health."

Mae's tail hooked behind her as she settled down. She managed to return the pleasantries. No amount of anxiety would let her stand for rudeness in the face of compassion.

“Hope this doesn't embarrass you too much, but you pair have to be one of the closest guardian and charge duos I've seen."

Mae laughed a little. It wasn't every day that she witnessed the birth of a misconception. She already saw herself having to have this same conversation many times over, so she figured that ironing out her stock response wouldn't hurt. “Oh, I met Toby at an audition. We weren't paired." She corrected, a little bashful despite herself.

“You don't say?" Kamh'sen's cool demeanor faltered, genuine surprise poured through. “Could've fooled me. You two have such sync with those signals of yours. It's like you're more bonded than paired. It's one heck of a sight."

Mae was taken aback, and Toby seemed to be as well. Regardless of how she meant it, 'bonded' was just about the last thing she expected them to be called. Even if Mae wanted it to be true.

“Thanks." Toby rubbed the back of his neck. “We try. Been one bumpy road, but we try."

Kamh'sen laughed and crossed her arms, feeling free to relax again now that the ice was broken “The pleasure's all mine. Though, it doesn't take a genius to figure out you're not here for commentary on your human handling technique."

Mae returned to her senses. She'd almost forgotten why they were here amidst the compliments. But she wanted answers, and Kamh'sen's comments about knowing a proxy tester were very interesting indeed. “So, you say these proxies will let us see the world as humans do." Her ears tipped forward in curiosity. “What you didn't tell me is how they work."

Kamh'sen nodded, giving the gathering crowd a side eye, before she continued. Some pedestrians had stopped their commute to watch the scene unfold. Mae felt her spine stiffen.

“As far as I know, all you need are some earbuds, a headset, and some neural interface jacks. From there, you might as well be in a sim. The proxy will project your voice and mimic your every move. It's not one-to-one just yet, but you'll be able to interact with humans like they were any other race."

Mae's jaw hit the floor, and not for the reasons she'd hoped. “As far as you know?" She croaked, her heart beginning to crack.

Mae's mind blazed with awful, cynical ideas. She didn't bring a vulnerable human out to some café for an 'as far as I know.'

“I'll be honest, all this info comes from Rij. Her being married to a proxy tester lends her some insider knowledge."

Rij's ears perked up, as she heard her name. She promptly invited herself into the conversation, arms tucked together, hands bundled near Mae's. Mae still had no real idea what to think of Rij. She only knew that the woman was pregnant and liked to lavish strangers with compliments. Regardless, Mae would grin and bear any of her quirks if it meant more word on these proxies. “Rij? What can you tell me about your spouse?"

“Hmm. I don't know." Was Rij's response.

Her wide-eyed interest devolved into a sly sneer. “That is some confidential stuff, right there. You'll have to convince me, girl. Why should I tell you about my spouse?"

Mae's face sunk like a rock. These proxies sounded incredible, and she didn't want to lose the opportunity to learn more about them to some stupid riddle. She sighed, hoping the response she formulated would be enough. “I want to talk to them." Her voice was barely a whisper above the other customers.

Rij blinked in surprise, remaining silent. Not a good start, but Mae knew she had to choke the words out or their trip would have been worthless. “This colony is divided. Nobody talks to the humans, and the humans are just as quiet. To walk among them? To see the world as they do, speak to them as they would each other? It's the stuff of my wildest dreams, and we need it before the divide becomes too great."

Mae set Toby down on the table and held Rij's hands in her own. The woman was shocked, but Mae wanted to guarantee her undivided attention. “Think about it. I brought Toby here, but when was the last time a human ever stepped into this city? The people at our label don't even see him as a person! Please, Rij." She implored, locking gazes with the other ralai. “I want to make a difference."

Rij sat still. Speechless at first, until she rolled her eyes and let out an affected sigh. “I really shouldn't be doing this. But I like you, girl. You care." Rij told her with a smirk.

The pregnant woman scribbled something down on her yutri, swiftly spinning it around to give Mae a full view. It was a name and a title, both in English script.

“Jane Doe. She's not human, it's just one of her silly pseudonyms. She'll meet you after your next show if you do one tiny little thing for her."

Toby took to her hands of his own accord. She stroked out of gratitude.

“What does she want?" She dreaded to know.

Rij twirled her yutri back into her hands, camera lens pointed towards her and Toby with a perverse glee. “She wants a picture of her favorite band! Won't you do this for us? She'd be delighted." The black ralai pleaded.

Rij seemed to switch personalities by the minute. One moment she was a complete tease. The next she was sweet as a kitten. Mae found it incredibly tiring. Though perhaps that was what this 'Jane Doe' saw in her. Never a dull moment with Rij.

“Alright. It's the least we can do." She shrugged, while Toby shuffled into the camera's view.

Before either of them could adequately react, the stinging flash left them starry-eyed. Rij poured over the image on her yutri, loudly and proudly singing its praises. “And, sent! You have no idea how happy you just made her."

Mae flinched when a second camera flash bit at her, followed by another, and another. The gathering of onlookers had become an onslaught, boxing them in at every turn. They gawked and chattered away, cooing over Toby as if he were some cute little prop. It made her sick.

“Oi!" Toby shouted at the top of his lungs, silencing most of the crowd. Even she was surprised by how well he made himself heard amongst these people. She knew, however, that he deserved it.

“The name's Toby. This here's my best friend, Mae. Any questions?"

--

Toby was pelted with a hailstorm of general knowledge questions from the gathering of onlookers, ranging from 'what do you do for a living?' to 'you really don't have tails?' The answers didn't matter. It was clear to him that they would be awestruck no matter what he said. If humans were so rare that they drew crowds like this, then there was no greater symptom of Tebeish's divide. In any case, Toby knew exactly what to ask his audience when the opening arose.

“Have none of you have seen a real human before?"

The crowd around him fizzled into a mix of sunken faces and shaking heads, with a waft of embarrassment so great it threatened to rub off on him.

“Why?"

Silence. Dozens of people, far more physically powerful than he could dream of being, and none of them could answer him. He didn't pick up on any malice, aside from one intrepid vulpine who parted the crowd to face him up close and personal. Falashai, if he recalled correctly. He certainly wasn't out to make any friends, judging by his scowl.

“You guys don't come out! You don't leave your little city! You don't want us to see you! Why're you blaming us?"

“But we do!" Toby objected, loud enough that the falashai took a step back.

Mae loosened her hold and let him to walk free. Toby gave her fingers a grateful little petting on the way out. She fully trusted him to win the crowd over, and that meant a great deal to him.

“Of course we want to see you! We're miserable in there! We were miserable when we arrived! We were miserable when we shut ourselves off, and now we're miserable because we want to reach out and nobody's helping!"

“But- we always thought you were happier on your own." Moaned one remorseful lupari in the corner of his vision.

“God, no. Half of us just stay there cause we're afraid of you. Hell, some of us don't even think you see humans as people. Are they right? Are you gonna prove them right?"

The crowd rumbled and stirred. Most seemed horrified. One or two became indignant. Others just looked guilty. All the money in the galaxy couldn't buy the level of vindication Toby felt. Cass was wrong about the aliens. Thank God, Cass was wrong about the aliens.

“That's awful! Why would they believe that?" Said a new voice from a species he couldn't identify.

Toby didn't mince words. They needed to fully understand what had gone wrong before anything could improve. “Because you haven't put the effort in."

The crowd became a miasma of slumped ears and limp faces. They were ashamed, whether with themselves or with the current state of affairs was unclear, but at least they were listening to him. Toby pulled out his yutri, poured through his contacts, and dialed one with the loudspeaker on. He knew that he was ringing hours earlier than Cass usually woke. He knew that he'd be wound up and confrontational, but Cass had twisted the knife one too many times for Toby to care. He needed to show these people what they could do to mend the damage.

“You want to make a difference, right? You can start with this guy right here."

Bedding rustled, worn bones creaked, and a very tired man groaned through the speaker. Toby was more resolute than ever. The man of the hour was awake, just in time for a long overdue confrontation. “D'you have any feckin' clue what time it is?" Cass grumbled on the other line.

“I know Cass. I woke you up early again." Toby laughed, his fellow humans' discomfort notwithstanding. “But this is important. We're in Da-hwinn right now and-"

“Da-hwinn? You trying to get yourself killed? Pete's sake, lad. Give it up!"

Cass screamed so loud he might well have blown the speaker out if he wasn't careful. But Toby wouldn't humor him anymore. “No! You need to hear this, so stick your translator in, sit the fuck down, and shut the fuck up for once, alright?!" Toby shouted back, making even his own ears ring.

Toby felt a little self-conscious, raising his voice in front of dozens of dazed onlookers. A tinny sigh told him that the temporary embarrassment was worth it. Cass was going to hear him out, at least for now.

“Everybody?" He called out to the crowd, “Do you see humans as people?"

“Yes! Why wouldn't we?" A female voice cried out, earning rumblings of agreement of the others.

“Oh, do you now?" Cass heckled, “That why you never went to the settlement? Or took a charge? You'd rather gawk at us than talk to us, like back at Cal-Gea!"

The Lupari from earlier stepped toward Toby's yutri, showing the kind of instant empathy that his kind were known for. “But Cal-Gea's awful. Everybody knows that! They treat people like meat, no matter the species."

Cass could only stammer, failing to pull a retort together. Toby almost felt sorry for the guy. Cal-Gea must have hurt Cass far more than it ever hurt him. A soft shuffling emanated from the crowd, drawing closer beneath a bevy of half-whispered apologies. At last, the one trying to approach reared his head. A red furred, red eyed kiori. He came ahead of the pack, his massive curved tail glued to his back. Toby could have sworn he'd seen him somewhere before.

“Mr. Cass?"

The sheer nervous energy coming from him felt so much like Mae's. And much like her, he turned his gaze to Toby to and desperately sought his approval.

“Go ahead." Toby urged him, nodding to make sure the message wasn't lost.

The kiori cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and wrung his hands together to assuage his anxieties. Perhaps he needed something to latch onto. He knew the sensation.

“Mr. Cass. My name is Vye-Shi. I met a human girl the day she came here. I've never seen her in person, but we've spoken every day since then and I... I think I love her."

The crowd came alive with cheers after his confession, but Toby was left dumbstruck. A non-human called his feelings for a human 'love.' It was like a dam burst open and flooded his mind with understanding. It made so much sense, because Toby knew in his gut that he felt the same thing.

“Cal-Gea is a horror. I would know. If you work with them too, then I fully understand your distaste for non-humans. Whether or not anyone else here sees your kind as people, I cannot say. But I can assure you of this. Nobody else sees Charlotte the way I do."

Cass waited until the cheers died down before he responded. “You still owe me that chat, Tobias."

The contempt Cass felt practically oozed through the speaker, and he hung up soon after. Not entirely unexpected, but still immensely disappointing. Worry coursed through the crowd, but Vye-Shi was resolute. And he said exactly what Toby wanted to hear.

“To think that it's this bad already. What can we do to help your people?"

Now there was something for him to chew on. They had to make these people talk to humans in person, but the actual mechanics of that were far beyond him. They didn't pay bass players to think, after all. Though fortunately, a certain drummer still had her head on straight. “We can set something up. Once we're done with our concert, we might stay behind. Help you connect with the humans."

A rumble of fascination and agreement went through the crowd. The interest was there. Things could change at long last. Kamh'sen and Rij only nodded, clearly impressed with how the day had turned out. Mae offered Vye-Shi a warm smile.

“And you'll finally meet Charlotte in person. This, we swear."

The sheer hope on the kiori's face was infectious. Tears peeked out of the corners of his eyes, when he scampered towards Toby and gave him an index finger to shake.

“I'm going to meet her. I'm going to meet her! Thank you so much!"

Vye-Shi's sheer gratitude was enough to give Toby pause. He and Charlotte founded their relationship on their own, and yet he and Mae received undue credit for it. Toby knew that the life of a public figure would be full of people like Vye-Shi, good men and women who would attach their accomplishments to him. He shook Vye-Shi's red finger anyway, but not before he told Vye-Shi some of the most honest words he'd ever spoken.

“Don't thank me. Thank yourselves."

--

Evening had turned to night, and their time in the café had run its course. They did it. They made progress. People who had never even seen a human before were raring to more than ever now. They could make a difference in people's lives, help them to help themselves. If only the same were true for Toby's bass tech. Mae expected a real shout off once she entered the vehicle, far above the verbal play fights that Toby had with him before. She wanted to go in and peel the bandage off, but her little light looked like he had a confession to make.

“Toby?" She beckoned to him, turning the man around in her hands. “What's wrong?"

He sighed and signaled her to raise him up. Mae brought him to eye level, so close to the kind of proximity that she'd grown to adore him from. “Mae, you don't mind if I tell you something, do you?"

Mae chuckled and tenderly pet Toby across his back. Some of his pensiveness left him. “I'll gladly hear anything you have to say, Toby."

Mae kept her ears trained on him. When Toby spoke to her alone, she didn't want to miss a word of it.

“Ashley Donald." He winced as if the name hurt him. “We called him Donny. He was a friend of ours back in Uni. He always went on and on about aliens and sci-fi. God, he'd have loved all this stuff. Even being here would've made the kid go ballistic."

Toby sighed, idly combing through the fur between her fingers to keep himself going. It was tough not to lavish him with affection right then and there. She hated seeing him so upset.

“He didn't make it through the invasion. God, we were so fucking stupid. We let him leave when we shouldn't have, and he- He didn't make it past the first few days. Me and Cass never stopped arguing about him, and when we came to Tebeish? We had a row so bad that we didn't speak for years. I'm sorry. I should've said-"

Mae perched her thumb in front of Toby, waiting to see what he did. His arms wrapped around the digit in a warm hug. No words were needed. All he needed was somebody to hold, and he did so until he had his fill. With a nod and a pat on her thumb, he told her that he was ready. Whatever Cass would hurl at him, Toby was determined to see it through no matter what. When Mae pulled the door open, it almost seemed like they were wound up over nothing. Endi still snored quietly on the bed behind the seats. Cass's cabinet was dead quiet. The only things that really made any noise were her and Toby.

“How strange." She whispered, still holding Toby close despite the lack of danger. “I thought Cass would be awake."

Mae jumped when Cass's cabinet door flew open to her left, revealing a baggy eyed, enraged human being. Cass seethed with exasperation and contempt, and all of it was directed solely at Toby. “Bring him up." Cass ordered, voice chillingly still. “He's owed me this for a long, long time."

It took everything she had not to outright refuse. The last time she left Toby alone with an angry human, he nearly had his arm broken. Toby, however, was perfectly calm. He didn't fear the people of Da-hwinn, so he certainly didn't fear somebody like Cass. Moments later, she hoisted him up, and let him into Cass's cabinet. She trusted him more than she trusted herself, so, even with her worries, she believed that Toby would not let the situation escalate further.

“Why'd you let him run?"

Toby said nothing. The sudden guilt made any reply dry up. Spite welled up within Cass and bled through his every word. “I'll ask you again. Why'd you let Donny run and get himself killed, Tobias? Can you answer me that?"

Toby remained silent, despite the pain that he was being put through. But Cass just went on, digging further and further into him with his accusations and cutting attacks on Toby's character. “You knew he wandered when he was upset, but you still went and let him go, didn't you? You let him wander off and die, and what do you do?! You hole yourself up with the aliens and try to forget!"

Cass poked and prodded at Toby, forcing him back into the wall of the cabinet. She was sorely tempted to intervene, but Toby didn't budge. His former pain and horror became an emotionless wash. The lack of a reaction drove Cass around the bend. “What is it with you?" Cass screamed, voice cracking.

Even with the distance between them, she could faintly make out something welling up in the corners of his eyes. “Did you come here cause of all that crap he went on about? Did you want him to be right about the aliens? All you've gone and proved with this stupid arse crusade is that they don't give one! But you keep clinging to them, clinging to her! She only cares because she was trained to, get it through your thick skull!"

Cass was left red faced and panting after his rant, shaking with rage and despair. Desperately, he looked for any sign that Toby was moved by the bile he'd lobbed at him. Toby gave him no such satisfaction. He was a rock. Normally, such calm in the face of a verbal lashing would have baffled her, but she'd come to realize the same thing that Toby must have. Cass wasn't talking to Toby, not really. He was talking to himself.

Cass fell to his knees, defeated. Two furless hands came out under him and carried him away. Endi held him tight, and Cass became a sobbing wreck. Endi must have felt so betrayed, yet she soldiered on, showing him that impeccable guardian etiquette. “I always saw you as a person, Cass. No training required." She sighed, sorrow awash in her tone. “But I failed you. No good guardian would have let you feel like this."

“Don't say that!" Cass cried out, hurt deeply by Endi's assessment of herself. “I'd have necked myself if it weren't for you. You're the only thing that makes living here worth it, and you're all the things Donny wanted to see!"

Cass fell silent once again, Endi looked at him with the utmost adoration, inching her way ever closer to the back door.

“I think we need some time to ourselves." Endi gave her friends a small nod before she left with Cass for the night.

Moments later, they were gone. The vehicle felt so dead without them, but Mae knew better than to rob two friends of their growth. Toby still stood in Cass's cabinet, patiently waiting for her to bring him back to friendlier terrain. She held her hands against the cold wood, and Toby's meagre weight soon graced them. Mae slipped onto the bed with Toby in tow, safely transferred to her collarbone with tried and true skill. Their eyes met again, submerged in relief.

“Tired?" Mae stifled a yawn.

Toby nodded. She couldn't blame him. It had been an eventful day, to say the least. Toby turned his gaze to his cabinet. From the look on his face, Mae could tell he was having second thoughts about sleeping in there tonight. She could scarcely believe that they'd put up with it for so long, herself. “Pull the blanket up." Toby told her, serene and smooth. “I'm sleeping somewhere comfier tonight."

With a smile and a few chuffs, Mae pinched the fabric to the nape of the human's neck and tucked him in with her. Nothing could disturb them, and Mae reveled in it. No more cabinets, no more nerves to hold her back. Just her and the wonderful little man who'd filled her life so thoroughly. The one who made her laugh, think, and purr like a kitten. There were so many things she still had to tell him. All those stories from her childhood. The adventures from her session days. The brighter moments with her sister. She could trust him with every bit of it. She loved him, after all.