Hive Minds Give Good Hugs

It's a little difficult focusing on classes nowadays.

The part of me raised as a nerdy teacher's pet still screams in agony whenever I skip class, and lately that has been happening far too often. College is important, education is important. These are universal truths that have been drilled into me since the dawn of time, and I don't believe in them any less just because I happen to have an illegal alien roommate in more ways than one.

However, I do indeed have an alien roommate, and that makes it really, really difficult to care about… gosh, what is she even talking about? Mesopotamia? Yeah, it's really difficult to care about Mesopotamia. Especially when said alien roommate keeps distracting me every five seconds. Another red blip appears on the bottom of my computer's taskbar, indicating I have yet another Discord message.

[KidnappedCthulhu]: why does this building have twenty books on color theory but only one on interpersonal communication

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Are you at the library? I promise you there is more than one book on communication.

While I have successfully commandeered my laptop back in order to take notes in class, it sort of completely backfired because I let Tara commandeer my phone. Then she figured out what messaging app I prefer and proceeded to bother me constantly.

[KidnappedCthulhu]: there is only one copy of the book i wanted and it is checked out

[KidnappedCthulhu]: i don’t want to read the books that say they are for dummies it is demeaning

[KidnappedCthulhu]: meanwhile a single color theory book has twenty copies it is ridiculous

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Yeah that does sound…

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Wait.

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Tara.

[KidnappedCthulhu]: yes this is tara was that not clear

[KidnappedCthulhu]: this is why i was against the screen name idea

[EightFriendlyLegs]: No, it was clear. Tara, “Fifty Shades of Grey” is not a book about color theory.

[KidnappedCthulhu]: oh

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Please don’t read that.

[KidnappedCthulhu]: ok

I quickly add the next few mental images to the "things to never think about again" bin and try to get back to struggling through class. I don't know why I bother, Tara is probably taking better notes than I am considering that she is sitting in on… every curriculum in the school, I think? At the very least, I've spotted one of her camo bugs in every class I've attended, and she's getting a lot better at hiding them. I certainly can't fault her for trying to get an education, though it is starting to get a little creepy. Actually, that raises some good questions I've been meaning to ask… no, no wait. Class. Got to focus on class.

I successfully resist the urge to continue chatting with the coolest person alive for about five entire seconds, which honestly isn't a bad record.

[EightFriendlyLegs]: How do you handle having so many bodies at once? Isn’t it disorienting?

[KidnappedCthulhu]: it is a very odd experience

[KidnappedCthulhu]: in many ways it feels natural though i can find myself not even thinking about it sometimes

[KidnappedCthulhu]: i do not know how to describe it to you but it is very liberating

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Liberating?

[KidnappedCthulhu]: hmm let me attempt to craft an allegory

[KidnappedCthulhu]: i have noticed some people in your culture are born without legs

[KidnappedCthulhu]: to an individual confined to a wheelchair there are many limitations to action

[KidnappedCthulhu]: especially alone

[KidnappedCthulhu]: they cannot operate most forms of motor vehicles for example

[KidnappedCthulhu]: which drastically limits what they can do by themselves in a culture as widespread as yours

[KidnappedCthulhu]: this is fine though

[KidnappedCthulhu]: your people have taken great pains to ensure the most important elements of day-to-day life are accessible regardless of a person’s physical limitations

[KidnappedCthulhu]: I like that

[KidnappedCthulhu]: people can rely on others for the assistance they need which is wonderful

[KidnappedCthulhu]: it is not perfect but i would argue you do a better job than my people at that

[KidnappedCthulhu]: there are also a lot of things a handicapped person can do by themselves that is simply a bit harder than it is for others

[KidnappedCthulhu]: they can still do these things alone but it takes more effort and time

[KidnappedCthulhu]: imagine being that person for your entire life

[KidnappedCthulhu]: and suddenly having legs

[KidnappedCthulhu]: a world you never even dreamed about being able to access without significant help

[KidnappedCthulhu]: suddenly it is all available to you

[KidnappedCthulhu]: as well as far more than you ever dreamed about

[KidnappedCthulhu]: things that were ridiculous for you to even consider are now not only possible but imminently achievable in a reasonable timeframe

[KidnappedCthulhu]: multiply that fantasy by a hundred

[KidnappedCthulhu]: that is what having multiple bodies is like

That… that sounds really cool, actually. Two bodies is twice as many things that I could do every day, and if I could make them however I wanted… yeah. That's a pretty massive increase in freedom. How big, though? How many bodies does Tara really have?

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Wow. Okay, I guess that makes sense.

[EightFriendlyLegs]: That, uh, actually brings up a question I’ve been wondering for a while. I have to ask. How many bodies do you have now?

[KidnappedCthulhu]: why do you have to ask

[KidnappedCthulhu]: are you being coerced

[EightFriendlyLegs]: What? No, it’s an expression! It means I’m anxious about asking but my curiosity is outweighing it.

[KidnappedCthulhu]: ah yes your two driving motivations

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Hey!

[KidnappedCthulhu]: 226

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Huh?

[KidnappedCthulhu]: I currently have two hundred and twenty six bodies

[EightFriendlyLegs]: That’s it?

[KidnappedCthulhu]: what do you mean thats it

[KidnappedCthulhu]: its 225 more bodies than you have

[KidnappedCthulhu]: what basis are you using to judge this

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Well, I just mean, I’m pretty sure you’ve made more than that? Like, just from the eggs your Blubie-body has laid in my room this week would be at least a hundred.

[KidnappedCthulhu]: oh

[KidnappedCthulhu]: yes i lay a lot of those because they die a lot

[EightFriendlyLegs]: What??? Are you okay? What’s happening???

[KidnappedCthulhu]: i am fine thank you

[KidnappedCthulhu]: i am not being harmed

[KidnappedCthulhu]: a few have been eaten by birds which was traumatizing but i am fairly good at avoiding them now

[KidnappedCthulhu]: most of them starve to death

[KidnappedCthulhu]: it is a design feature technically

[EightFriendlyLegs]: A design feature???

[KidnappedCthulhu]: yes i just typed that

[KidnappedCthulhu]: it is not ideal but it is the best i can do

[KidnappedCthulhu]: brains take a very large amount of energy

[KidnappedCthulhu]: and they also take a large amount of space

[KidnappedCthulhu]: i am just barely capable of creating a sensory and optical system sophisticated yet compact enough for my purposes

[KidnappedCthulhu]: and designing a nervous structure that can interpret that data and hold some semblance of my consciousness in just as small of a space was an absurd amount of work

[KidnappedCthulhu]: the energy requirements are almost nonstop

[KidnappedCthulhu]: the bodies starve in a couple hours and preventing that would require me to hunt almost constantly

[KidnappedCthulhu]: which rather defeats the point of a recon unit

[KidnappedCthulhu]: so they starve

[KidnappedCthulhu]: they get the energy they hatch with and then i eat the body with its replacement right after it dies

[EightFriendlyLegs]: You self-cannibalize???

[KidnappedCthulhu]: its efficient

[EightFriendlyLegs]: It’s gross!!!

[KidnappedCthulhu]: ok yes it is disgusting and a source of significant stress to me

[KidnappedCthulhu]: but i want to leave my own corpses lying around even less

[KidnappedCthulhu]: that seems like a recipe for disaster

[EightFriendlyLegs]: How so?

[KidnappedCthulhu]: i dont know it just does

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Hmm… okay, that’s kind of a red flag and we should talk about it, but maybe there’s a way to make it more efficient! What if you took their brains out?

[KidnappedCthulhu]: they would die obviously

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Nono, like… you don’t want these spy bodies out eating all day because then they can’t spy, right? But you can’t just have them take shifts because they need too much food.

[KidnappedCthulhu]: they are not spy bodies they are recon bodies

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Whatever. Anyway, your bodies are all connected somehow, right? Wouldn’t it be possible to make like… a stationary body that handles the brain functions for your tiny bodies wirelessly? The recon bodies can be, like, remote-controlled drones, and you can store the controlling bodies somewhere with enough food to satisfy the brains. That way the drones shouldn’t take as much energy, and maybe you can finagle a rotating system out of it instead of the self-cannibalism thing?

[KidnappedCthulhu]: huh

[KidnappedCthulhu]: that might work actually

[EightFriendlyLegs]: Oh, woah, really? Awesome!

[KidnappedCthulhu]: did you suggest it thinking it wouldn’t work

[EightFriendlyLegs]: I mean, it was just off the top of my head…

[KidnappedCthulhu]: you are clever creative and resourceful

[KidnappedCthulhu]: that is part of why i like you so much

[KidnappedCthulhu]: i honestly would not have considered removing my own brain but it is actually a very good idea

[KidnappedCthulhu]: trust yourself more

Aaaaaaa! Don’t start blushing in the middle of class don’t start blushing in the middle of class don’t start blushing in the middle of class don’t start blushing in the middle of class—

“That’ll be it for class today,” the professor says. “Read pages 435 to 521 for next time, and don’t forget your projects are still due next Wednesday. Have a lovely day, everyone.”

Oh, perfect, I can just blush in the hallway. I slap my laptop shut and quickly gather my things, rushing out to the chaotic mess outside the classroom before I turn completely beet red. Don’t worry! It’s college, so nobody cares about me! Don’t! Worry! Nobody! Cares!

"There you are, Evelyn! Hello!"

My extremely red face looks up and straight into the grinning mug of someone who cares about me very much. What!? Why is Tara waiting in the hall for me to exit!? My blush deepens, and her grin widens.

"I thought you were in the library!" I hiss, covering my face.

She leans in and throws an arm around my shoulder, jostling me playfully.

"I am," she whispers once the shaking stops. "I hope you don't mind, but I've borrowed another outfit."

"Tara! Clothes are expensive! So is food, for that matter!"

"Yes, I know. Apologies. I will find a way to pay you back."

"Did they really let you into this building?" I ask quietly. "This is a private campus, you know."

Tara shrugs.

"I just walked in behind someone with the key card, same as always. No one questioned it, despite me having nine hundred thousand times more mass than usual."

"I guess you do look like a student here," I admit. "You sort of stand out, but not in a way that would get people to be suspicious of you."

More in the way that she's a fucking supermodel in clothes that are obviously too small for her.

The two of us begin to head down the hallway towards the exit. This is my last class of the day, thankfully. Tara meeting me outside is surprising… but not entirely unwelcome.

Tara spends as much time with me as she can, it feels like… and I'm not really sure what that means. After all, when I consider the time she spends with me, I have to take into account the fact that she spends many times that amount of time doing all sorts of other things due to multi-body shenanigans. In reality, it's really not much of an investment on her part, so is it actually as special as it feels?

Well, despite all my mental arguments about how it isn't actually that impressive, it still makes me feel happy. My dumb perma-anxious monkey-brain is absolutely all over how much I'm being liked and appreciated and constantly reaffirmed. It's embarrassing, but it's sort of the salve my horrible insecurities need. To have someone that genuinely likes me and always has time for me is just… nice. She has more time for me than I can even handle! I spent the better part of a day trying to say 'Tleshkinat Tarakanora Se Ktahn-Hashlenesa,' getting amused corrections every time I attempted to pronounce her name. We pretty much spent the entire time giggling.

It's bright yet cool outside, beautiful weather for walking. Which is good, as I have no other method to go to and from my dorm room. Despite my constant chatter over the internet, though, I find myself with nothing to say in person. The words don't come as easily when spoken with my voice. That's okay, though. Tara seems happy to look around as we go, enjoying the breeze and watching people pass by.

Everything must be so new to her. She has experienced the world as a human (or at least as sort of a human) for all of a week. Until then she'd been living in a hole in the woods on what is, to her, an alien planet. It really makes me think about everything I take for granted: houses, roads, vehicles, plumbing, electricity… humans have made so many massive, incredible projects for the purposes of improving the lives of everyone around them. And their own lives, of course, but still…

"We really do make wonderful things when we work together, huh?" I muse.

"Yes," Tara agrees. "I think that's why the nation of Haslken-Rkto took over my planet, honestly. They must have gotten so tired of seeing so many fractured nations fight when they could all just be… better."

I look up at my friend and raise an eyebrow.

"All right, all right," she laughs, raising a placating hand. "I'm fully willing to admit at this point that Haslken-Rkto might be a little too… controlling, shall we say. And overly invested in maintaining that control. The parallels you have pointed out in your world are concerning, as are many of the stories you've given me. But surely, there is merit to the wish of bringing people together?"

"Well yeah, of course," I say. "It's just hard sometimes, because we don't all agree on how things should be done. And…"

I pause for a moment.

"Uh, sorry if this seems like it's out of nowhere, but you're not planning to take over the world or anything, are you? This sort of seems like the start of a manifesto or something."

"What? No!" Tara gapes. "Goodness, no! I want to go home, not rule your home. Ugh. I honestly can't think of anything I'd want to do less. So much work, so much conflict, so much war! No way. I would hate that."

"That's good, I think," I say with a nod. "I can't imagine ever wanting to be in charge of something like that either. But what if it was your only way to get home?"

Tara's brows furrow in confusion. It's wild how she has facial expressions down so naturally. Did she somehow take those from the woman that attacked her? I suppose that makes sense, if she took language.

"…What sort of ridiculous scenario would require me to take over the entire world before I could leave it?" she asks, dumbfounded.

"It's just a hypothetical," I say, trying to be as nonchalant with my inquisition as possible. I've read books! I have to be sure about these things!

"Hmm… well, in that case, still no," Tara answers after some thought. "I miss my home very much, but I couldn't abuse your planet like that for my own sake. There's little sense in returning to a family as someone they wouldn't even want to see anymore. Besides…"

She bumps my hip with her own, causing me to stumble. Though it's more from surprise than the impact.

"... It's not so bad here," she admits. "I miss my home very much, but I think I could enjoy living here as well, if I must. It is a wonderful planet, with wonderful people."

"We screw up really often, though," I protest.

"Everyone does," Tara dismisses. "What standard should you be held to? Sure, my home has you beat on worldwide unity, but this place is still wonderful! So clean, so bright and colorful. People are safe, people are happy, people are here to learn things and make their futures a better place. It's a far cry from the nonstop 'work, work, work' of my home."

"This is a particularly nice neighborhood," I point out. "We have plenty of crime and suffering and back-breakingly hard work, you're just not seeing it here."

Tara laughs again.

"What is this, a contest on whose planet is worse? Evelyn, please. I've seen the news. I even have a Twitter account now, you know."

"Oh god," I whisper in horror.

"Look, Evelyn, it's fine. The terror of my condition is finally starting to feel a little less raw. Let me enjoy your world! It truly is a beautiful place when you look for it."

Reaching out, she pulls me into a side-hug, shoulder to my significantly shorter shoulder. More shoulder-to-tricep, really. Still, despite my body screaming in silent panic, I don't pull away.

Then someone behind us clears their throat, breaking the moment.

I turn around in a startled panic, breaking from the hug. It's… it's that girl! The one who made fun of me at Arby's! Well, kind of. Mostly I just flipped out in the middle of a bunch of people and splashed her with soda like an insane cavewoman just to catch a bug.

Alex is also there, and while better than the mean girl, that's still another witness to my insanity and it only makes my heart beat faster to see. Why? Why now? What do they want?

The girl hesitates, probably noticing all the color drained from my face. Then Alex punches her in the shoulder.

"Ow!" she complains. "Okay, okay. Um… Evelyn. I wanted to say I'm sorry."

...Huh?

"I was sort of a, shall we say, 'huge bitch' to you, as my friends have repeatedly pointed out," she continues, glaring at Alex. "I didn't really think that I was that—" Alex raises a fist threateningly. "—but any amount of bitchery is too much bitchery when meeting people for the first time, and I sincerely regret making you uncomfortable," she quickly concludes.

"Good," Alex says smugly.

"You don't have to hit me," the girl whines.

"Sure I do. I'm allowed to hit girls."

"Not legally!"

"Um," I manage to butt in, grabbing their attention. "Thank you, uh…"

"Sasha," the girl offers, to my intense relief.

"Sasha," I repeat, trying to commit it to memory this time. "I… I'm sorry I acted like such a weirdo and sprayed you with soda and stuff."

"Oh, you didn't 'spray me' with anything," Sasha protests, waving me off. "A few droplets hit me, at most. I was being overdramatic, trying to be funny. But I understand not everyone can appreciate my ingenious sense of humor."

"I will punch you a second time," Alex warns.

"Don't, I'll bruise! God, you are such a brute. Anyway, Evelyn, that's all I wanted to say. My mouth runs away from me sometimes and I forget where it's going. If you're willing, I would love to make it up to you sometime."

"Um… make it up to me how?" I ask.

"Well, I was looking at you—and please, please, please don't take this the wrong way, honey—but would you like to go shopping with me sometime? I'll buy you anything you like, as long as I get to make some recommendations."

I blink. Why would a shopping offer be something I take the wrong… oh, she's calling my clothes ugly. Or she's afraid that I'll assume that and telling me not to. Which, of course, she has to do because my clothes are ugly.

"You should definitely do it," Alex loudly stage-whispers to me. "Sasha is fucking loaded. Just so much money. Take it from her. Use it to gain strength."

"Now, Alex, if you keep saying things like that I will be forced to assume you only associate with me for my wealth."

"Oh, I totally do though," Alex responds instantly. "And on the subject, I regret to inform you that Sam and Thomas only hang out with you for your boobs."

"Oh, well, obviously," Sasha allows, suppressing a smirk.

Somewhat overwhelmed by the bit routine, my brain sputters a few times before reminding me that I am, in fact, quite broke and in need of new clothing.

"I… can Tara come?" I ask.

"Hello!" Tara waves.

Sasha nods politely at Tara but then quickly does a double-take, approaching her and starting to circle around like a shark.

"Goodness gracious," she mutters. "Tara, you said? Hello, I'm Sasha, this is Alex, and… god. Is any of that even remotely comfortable?"

"Not at all," Tariq confirms happily. "All of my clothing is on loan. I, ah, was not exactly able to pack before arriving here."

"Yes, I can see that. Goodness, woman, you must be in agony. Come on, follow me."

Sasha begins storming off, wearing the facial expression of someone mortally offended.

"Um… where?" I ask.

"Shopping!" Sasha confirms. "We’re going now! Please bring your friend, she needs help!"

Alex shrugs.

"You’d better follow her. She’s in her zone. Sasha’s a maniac, but she’s a really nice maniac when you get to know her."

Alex follows after, looking back with a lopsided smile.

"You are gonna walk home with a lotta free shit."