Claire felt a rush of air as Basher slammed the door behind her and she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Welcome back,” Young Twin said. “They’re about to bring us dinner. Are you hungry?”

Claire nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t know.” All she knew was that Basher still didn’t believe her, and she had no way of knowing if he ever would. She’d almost felt that he might be considering it... but then he’d changed his mind. She didn’t know why it was so important that she make a connection to him, but it was.

These Rik, some of them anyway, were being friendly to her, and she felt the danger of succumbing to it. She’d told Basher she was afraid that they’d kill her in her sleep, but her greater fear was that she’d connect with them. She’d felt Young Twin’s fingers on her cheek and she’d desperately wanted to counteract that with someone real. She’d felt, even if it was just her fingertips, that the contact would help her remember who to trust. Basher had refused, and now she felt herself slipping down the slope.

“I know some of you don’t want me in your cell tonight, but you’re just going to have to deal with it," Claire blurted out. "And I told Basher, and he’s going to make sure the night guards keep an eye on me. So you shouldn’t try anything.”

This wasn’t exactly the truth, but she felt the need to distance herself from them.

They started doing that eye gaze thing again, and Claire snapped, “Stop that! I can see what you’re doing, you know. It’s not subtle.”

There was shocked silence.

“It isn’t?” Diva said. “How disappointing.”

“Basher was right. You are all crazy.”

“Not crazy,” Diva said, and sighed. “Just, not human.”

“Not human,” they all muttered, like a too-often repeated prayer.

Claire stared at them, they stared at her.

“You can’t stand there all night,” Young Twin finally said, gently. “You might as well lie down. We’re not going to hurt you.”

Claire rubbed the crook of her elbow where she'd gotten the shot. It was going to be a very long night.

An hour later they were fed dinner, and the Rik gathered together to eat.

Sage, Diva, and Athlete sat next to each other on Diva’s bed, and the twins sat across from them. Their knees bumped in the narrow walkway between bunk beds.

Claire sat further away, and awkwardly held a small food box in her lap. Sage had passed it to her with a slight smile when it was delivered.

When she cracked the lid, Claire smelled something amazing. She stuck the spork in it and pulled out some kind of pasta with tomato sauce. Human food! It looked like a recently frozen meal, probably shipped here in bulk, and Claire was thrilled.

How she missed real food. Faal had fed her the occasional human “delicacy” he’d imported, like canned corn or crackers, but generally she ate an oatmeal-like mush that was appropriate for carbon/water species like her. On the Diarena’s ship she’d eaten better, but it wasn’t human food.

Claire took another bite with the spork provided. It was wonderful. She closed her eyes and savored the taste. It reminded her of a Tuesday night dinner with her mom in front of a movie. It was leftover lunch after mass before a lazy Sunday afternoon. Tears filled her eyes.

“That’s incredible,” Diva said. "So sincere.”

“The neocortex handles the sensory input, but also connects to the emotional center of the brain,” Sage explained.

Claire opened her eyes, her nostalgic moment ruined. “Are you talking about me?”

Clearly they were. They all sat there with their food boxes untouched on their laps, watching her cry over her food.

“We’ve had very little chance to observe humans in natural settings,” Sage explained. “What with one thing and another.”

“Well, don’t observe me,” Claire said. “It’s annoying and I’m not here for your amusement.”

Sage looked hurt and Claire told herself she didn’t care as she sat back on her bed, putting her back to them as best she could.

She took another bite, without tears. The aliens were still quiet.

Then Diva said in her melodic voice, “Thank you for this food and bless it to our bodies. Amen.”

“Amen,” they all repeated.

Claire choked. She hacked for a moment, and coughed to clear her throat, and then realized Sage was offering her a bottle of water. A long drink helped, but they were all staring at her again.

“Okay, I have to ask. What’s that about?” Claire said. “Who were you praying to?”

“The food,” Athlete said.

“A spirit,” Diva said at the same time.

“Our cells,” Sage said.

“Nobody,” Old Twin said.

They all looked at each other.

“Hmm. Clearly we’ve never discussed it before,” Sage said. “I just assumed we agreed...”

“Why would you pray at all, though?” Claire asked. “Who taught you?”

“No one taught us," Sage explained. "We watched observational videos taken by Rik field agents. The ones already on Earth, you see. This is the human custom before meals, yes? An imprecation to remember the value of sustenance in a tertiary society removed from the primary role of food production...”

“Oh, stop him,” Young Twin said. “He’ll go on and on about human psychology. The fact is: we don’t know why you do it, but we want to be human, so we do it.”

Athlete opened his carton. “I really don’t care, I’m hungry.”

“I care,” Diva said. “I think humans are praying to their Creator Spirit, like the Crosspoint do. Isn’t that it, Claire?”

“That’s the closest, I guess. Not all humans pray though, only the ones who believe in a god. And not all those who pray are thinking of the same god.” Claire ate a few more bites and they did too. “The Crosspoint believe in a god?” she added. “That’s interesting.”

“Most species believe in some sort of deity,” Sage started, happily seizing the chance to explain something. “The Crosspoint are one of the only species who actively recruit... or, what’s the word... evangelize? Some people estimate that over half the galaxy believes in the Crosspoint god.”

“Hmmm. What’s their god like?” Claire asked. Her stomach was starting to feel queasy and she stirred her food slowly.

“Dangerous,” Athlete said.

“Loving,” Diva said.

“Controlling,” Sage said.

They looked at each other. “Clearly that’s another thing we haven’t discussed,” Sage said. “You are so good for us.”

When Claire stopped eating, with half her food still in the container, she curled up on the bed and fell asleep. When she woke up, the room was darker, lit only by green runner lights along the edges of the floor.

"He'll be here any minute," somebody said, not even attempting to whisper. "We need to wake her up."

"I'm awake," Claire said groggily. "But I don't feel good." She looked at them blankly, and then groaned. For a moment, waking from a deep sleep to the sound of human voices, she'd forgotten where she was. Her head was pounding, and her stomach felt terrible.

"We have a problem," Sage said. "We're escaping tonight."

"What?"

"One of the night guards is going to get us out of here, he's been paid. He'll be here in less than half an hour."

“What!” Claire said again. “That’s why you didn’t want me here?”

Old Twin hissed, “Turn your face away from the window. Just in case.”

Claire stared at her. “Why would I care if you got caught? I’m not Rik.”

Sage put a hand on her shoulder, and Claire jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry!" he said. "Look, I know humans have every reason to hate the Rik, but we didn’t choose this. We're not evil. We were chosen for our cultural attainments, we’re not assassins. Diva was a singer, actually, and… ”

“Yes, yes. You’re all big cheese, I get it," Claire said crossly. "But I still don’t care if you get caught.” She automatically turned away from the mirror, though. Was it possible Basher was out there?”

“I’ve got my own problems to deal with," Claire added.

“We heard,” Sage said. “You stole something from a Merith?”

“How did you know that?” Claire asked. “I did steal something, but mostly Faal's just angry that I escaped.”

Sage’s eyebrows were almost in his hair. “Faal? Of Merith II? Or one of the other ones?”

“Merith II.”

Sage grimaced. “You do have problems.”

Claire ran her fingers through her hair, digging them into her scalp. “I know. Basher told me that Faal might be able to press his case here since I stole his personal property."

“Perhaps we can help each other. You see... we can’t have you hanging around, watching us escape, and getting a good look at our contact. And you can’t wait here to be given back to Faal.” He shuddered slightly. “I don’t envy you that enemy.”

“So?”

“So, come with us.”

The room stilled. Then Old Twin reached forward and slapped the back of Sage’s head. “What’s the matter with you?”

They engaged in a furious whisper war, while Claire considered his offer. Her choices were bad either way. If she stayed, she could be returned to Faal anytime. Perhaps Basher would come to believe that she was human and protect her... but perhaps he wouldn’t have time.

If she escaped with the Rik, Basher would be completely convinced that she wasn’t human, but she could be far away from Faal. If only there was some way to prove she was human now.

Claire took a deep breath. Her options were bad, but that was life. ‘Life is not cake and choices are not candy,’ her mom used to say.

“I’ll go,” Claire told him.

“Excellent!” Sage looked genuinely pleased and raised a hand, as if to pat her on the shoulder again, but then he remembered and put it down. “Here’s the plan...”

Old Twin retired to her bunk, furious, but she didn’t fight with him anymore. Clearly Sage was the leader of this group. Claire wondered briefly what his position had been and why he was one of these dispossessed Rik.

Anyway, the plan was simple. Sage had a friend on Selta who was willing to employ him and the four others. This employer was willing to put up the money for their escape, in return for twelve weeks of service. After that, the Rik would be free to stay or go as they chose. If they stayed, they would be paid fair wages.

“What kind of work?” Claire asked dubiously.

“I believe it’s a restaurant. A high-class café where they serve Human.”

“They eat humans?”

Sage burst out laughing and Claire immediately realized what he meant. “Oh. You mean they serve human food?”

“Yes, of course. The owner wants human servers to make it more exotic, and apparently there aren't a lot of humans around. So Rik will do.”

“Sounds simple,” Claire said.

“It is simple.”

Claire felt a surge of nausea and beat it back. “Escape is never simple.”