#SciFriday

Challenge 28 - Glitch to Destiny

"A pilot's job is lonesome. I know, that sounds like a platitude. But have you ever done the outer belt run with an antique monstrosity of a doryfreighter, all by yourself? Thought so. As long as the systems work fine, you have to do some basic maintenance and for the rest of the time you are free to enjoy your time, read, watch movies, talk to yourself, dance the jig, you name it. As soon as something starts going wrong you're either extremely busy with repairs or extremely dead. I had a close run, this last one. Spent most of the time in my pressure suit, searching for a leak. Didn't help to have the monotonous voice of comp counting down the hours and minutes I'd left. I was down to one hour and three minutes when I found the leak and the repair took me 53 minutes. That makes a man think. So I decided to sign up on this 'date-where-you-are'-page. You know, I just thought I'd rather spend the days on station with some pleasant company instead of worrying about the next run. I asked for a human girl, preferably a redhead with green eyes, but I don't intend to be strict about her colouring as long as she is nice to talk to. Yeah, that's about it. But now I sit here in this desolate bar for more than 30 minutes already and my date doesn't show up. That happens when you trust in comps. My name is Chris, by the way. What about you?"

I silently study the human who sits at the the next table over, nursing a cup of strong smelling steaming black liquid. While doing so my colour slowly changes from a deep purple to dark blue. I wonder if the human knows that this signifies interest. My ribbon-strands of tentacles drift high around my top end, each one glowing golden at the tip with my heightened brain activity. My anatomy is not comparable to the human one. While Chris' voice chords, tongue and lips easily form understandable words in station basic, I'll have problems to form comprehensible sentences for him. But something in his words urges me to try anyway.
His baffled expression tells me immediately that I failed. They say that to humans jilloling voices, formed deep down in the main trunk of our body, resemble melodious chimes. That's why communication with these clumsy bipeds tends to get annoying real fast without a knanag interpreter. Of course there is none of those available when you need them most.
The human, Chris, seems intrigued though. So I roll out one of my lower limbs and place it tentatively on his hand. His soft brown eyes widen in what I'm sure is shock. I heard that humans tend to be extremely sensitive about their privacy. I really can't imagine how a race can survive and prosper without proper touch telepathy. Spoken language is so slow and imprecise, lacking all shades of meaning and richness of detail. But this one human at least seems ready to give it a try. Quickly I send him the question I foremost burn to ask, trying hard to keep my emotions out of the conversation. I don't want to overwhelm his single brain.
'You are waiting for a date?'
"Yes, Comp said she would be here at noon. Goes by the name of Salina."
That's all the confirmation I need. Unfortunately his answer gets me off guard and I let slip a bunch of emotional pictures. They hit the human full force before I can roll in my probe. Chris gasps and unconsciously grabs my slender limb with a strong grip of his five fingered hand.
"Wait, you're Salina? You are my date?"
He holds my limb tight and pain flashes through our enforced link. Immediately he lets go and I snap my probe back to my body. But not before I feel that he's apologetic.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. But I have to know. How is it possible that they set us up together? I mean I'm sure you're attractive and everything by jilloling standards, but you're neither a redhead nor green-eyed nor human."
He seems really distressed. So I carefully unroll another limb to enable further communication, choosing a stronger and unhurt one, and place it near his hand in an open offer. Gingerly he touches it with one finger, softly brushing the small suction cup at the end. In his mind I recognise strong curiosity quickly replacing fading disappointment. On a lower level there are fears that call to mind his earlier story: The fear of dying alone between the stars, the fear of loosing contact with other sentient beings on the long hauls out there, the fear of not belonging anywhere but on a ship with only the computer for company.
I can understand that. I travelled a lot myself, always wanted to. But there are few jilloling in the trade fleets. I'm a fair mechanic and engineer, able to help with most of the tasks on a freighter or a scout. The knanag as well as the geok are always keen to hire me. But after all this time I felt the need for someone to talk to. So I joined 'date-where-you-are' to find a fellow jilloling, someone to spend some private time before signing up for the next long haul, someone to be truly myself with.
Suddenly I get aware of Chris soaking up my wandering thoughts like a dry sponge a puddle of water. He follows my lead, sharing what there is to share and offering what there is to offer. I'm sure that my upper tentacles float high, sparkling and showing off my agitation. At the same time I realise how much feeling a human face can express. What is the significance of the water drops forming in the corners of his eyes? I start wondering if humans are really as different from us after all. Maybe we underestimate their capability for nuance and detail...
Chris' immediate reaction to this stray thought shows how fast he adapts to this kind of contact. Together we plunge deeper into a world of self reflection, standing on an invisible bridge of shared emotions, looking out into the void of an unknown future.

Some indefinite time later two humans enter the bar. Their noisy laughter disturbs our exchange. One of them calls out to Chris.
"Hey, cargo, have you heard about the news? They had a glitch on that 'date-where-you-are-site'. Seems they try to match couples cross species now. Isn't that hilarious?"
Chris blinks himself back into the surroundings and turns towards the stranger without breaking our connection.
"No, haven't heard of it yet. Well, as long as it's up to the couples if they hit it off or not, it can't be all bad."
Without further comment he stands up, pulling me gently with him. While we leave the bar I wonder about the concept of destiny and glitches. Over the link I feel the reassurance of Chris' presence and a blossoming but still cautious happiness, the dark shadows of fear and loneliness in a human and a jilloling mind slowly receding.