I woke up on the levitation bed, an Elusian favorite for relaxation and stress relief—and to be honest, it did ease the tension and aches from my infant muscles. The nanobots covered my body like fucking mummy gauze, which kept me in the exact temperature range that I was most comfortable. They could congeal in clothing patterns at a mere mental image, and levitated a few millimeters off my skin so there was no pressure or constriction. The massage setting was nice to have too if I wanted it. I had to hand it to the Elusians, they'd rendered every little thing convenient and utilitarian.

Mikri and Ficrae would be pleased about not having to leave buckets every two steps anymore, as the nanobots absorbed waste from those organs and processed it into usable compounds; it was nice not to wake up with an urgent pressure by my belly button hurrying my wake-up process along. Brushing my teeth and flossing was no longer needed either, since nanobots instantly cleaned food particles off my chompers. Sorry, dentists, pack it up. Skincare wasn't necessary with the micromachines cleaning pores and removing dead skin cells and grime, and there was no hair to brush.

Beyond eating, drinking, and sleep, there really are no biological needs the Elusians have to attend to; sickness and medical issues are dealt with, any discomfort neutralized. They're more machine than they are their biological trappings. I imagine they kept food because they like the taste, something Mikri wouldn't understand, since the bots could just pull solar energy.

"Good morning, me." I stretched as I walked to the washroom. I looked into the mirror, and saw blackened beady eyes looking back at me from a pebble-gray skull. I tried to make a weird face into the reflective surface, to be any less emotionless. "It's amazing how that human brain rewires itself: still got that type of super-speed. The first few weeks, it was like I couldn't sit still, couldn't sleep or focus. Now, it's like the nanobots were always a part of me."

It was a computer interface wired directly into my brain, one that could run predictive algorithms like Mikri's calculation matrix or be used to download outside information. I'd often found it strange that Elusians didn't use any personal devices often, but now I realized they did; it was in their heads. I could choose a song to vibrate within my eardrums, or a video that could be projected onto my retinas at varying levels of opaqueness.

Corai showed us that they also had messaging capacities when far away. That was after she made us learn the hard way to place messages into people's brains, for when we were in regions such as Sol, the Fakraverse, or 5D space that wouldn't have bandwidth to communicate. I mean, I guess it wasn't that hard when they could respond to command prompts, but still.

Our Elusian overlord had been kind enough to make Mikri's interface compatible to send and receive messages, so he could telepathically bother us. There was a reason I snoozed my notifications, though I turned them back on now.

>>> You have 24 missed messages.

I sighed, concentrating on thinking my command. Play five most recent messages from Mikri.

Hi, Estai! I'm going to the library with Sagua. She says to remember to study your cultural references. I've attached these image charts for you to save of vegetables, trees, and flowers if you need them.

Okay, that one was normal enough, and helpful to have some visual aids. Corai had insisted that in all communications we use our Elusian names, which were weird mashups of random bits of our names that weren't too telltale; she wanted us to get used to utilizing and responding to them. I was Estai, and Sagua was Fifi. Corai missed an opportunity to make her "Fifai", or better yet, just Fifa. I frowned, and moved on to the next message.

Forget room service. Order boom service from Mikri for a great wake-up, like the action movie of rising and shining! Boom service comes with cymbals mashed against your high cheekbones, a giant gong, and an airhorn transmitted inside your brain. XOXO

An irritated blast of air trickled down my nostrils, and I switched to the next one with growing irritation. That clanker genuinely thought he was funny, and he just wasn't. I couldn't wait to see what else he'd cooked up overnight.

It just occurred to me. You're a silversheen now…except with no sheen. More like silverspleen.

I finally decided to transmit a direct reply back. If you ever call me that, you're dead. At least there were only two more left to listen to—I'd been too much of a bad influence on Mikri.

It'll be your turn to go through a metal detector now! What will those even do, once humans all have nanobots?

P.S. I think I like casserole!

Casserole was the worst food. Combative droid: he couldn't even eat. I huffed, going onto the next message.

My other messages were blank. I know you only listen to the first five. I hope that I made you smile. You deserve to have every bit of the joy that you brought to me. I thought myself above such emotions, but later realized that I was beneath them.

You dance through each possibility I devote resources to. I miss you every night when sleep takes you away from me. The absence of your input makes it as though my processor is empty. My chosen course of action is to love you always. My scripts run for you.

That heartfelt message caught me off-guard, and I wiped a bit of moistness from my enlarged eyes. Mikri was so sweet, and I wished he was here so I could hug him tight; I finally could squeeze him with all my might without worrying about breaking him. I was horrible at expressing my feelings, so what could I say that would compare to that? Bro really should write sonnets.

I gnawed on a stale muffin, putting my raisers on and walking to the Elusian gym. "Mikri, I'm not good with words, but I can't imagine my life without you. Your friendship over these past few years has been one-of-a-kind and gotten me through some tough times. When I think of what I fight for, it's not Earth or humanity. It's you.

I remember how broken I felt sitting by your hospital bed, and our bond is a hundred times stronger now. I'd follow you into an active volcano if I had to. I'd even pretend to like your casseroles. Never doubt that."

I sent the message and strolled into the Elusian workout facility, picking a metal bar off the ground. A common exercise for their species was to levitate the bar from side-to-side while hanging on and doing pullups, which toned body and concentration. I wanted to ensure that I could keep my focus with the raisers while doing other things at the same time, so I'd be ready if we got into combat. Corai didn't like that I was thinking that way, but there were so many possibilities for our mission on Suam to go wrong.

I was not surrendering to be an experiment. I'd fight my way out and let them put me down. Stealing a glance at the other scientists focused on their workout regiment, I lifted the bar with raisers and clung to it with long fingers. My biceps tightened, the burn not coming through that much thanks to the nanobots; I would benefit from natural endorphins and general fitness. These instruments were a lot more modest than humanity's Caelum gyms, which had concrete slabs as dumbbells. I focused on moving the bar around, while keeping my shoulders locked.

"Greetings, I'm Kenem. I haven't seen you around here before; you must be new." A message from an unknown Elusian rolled around inside my skull, startling me into dropping the bar. My leg twisted awkwardly, and a powerful warmth flowed through the rolled knee from the nanobots. I could see a stout Elusian doing cardio, making eye contact with me and waving; his arm fell abruptly. "Oh. I asked the others about you…you're human. Sorry for the disturbance. I won't trouble you further."

I gritted my teeth, pulling myself upright and limping around as the machines mended my leg. "No, it's alright, please. I'd love to talk—I'm Estai. I have a question for you, an honest question. How can you Elusians tell each other apart? You all look alike: no hair, nanobot skin, indistinct black eyes."

Kenem laughed, flashing perfect teeth. "Cheekbones and forehead shape mostly. Any other customization's at your own risk. There's unique patterns of the forehead wrinkles, depending how much we like to smooth those out. Main item, cheekbone angles: high, angular cheekbones are considered attractive, which is why so many Elusians select to transplant into a form with those features."

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"Most of us?" I echoed. "Not you. Your cheeks look more filled out."

"Correct, not me. Er…may I ask you a question, Estai?"

"How formal, dude talking in my head. Shoot."

"What is it like to have a brain transplant done?" The question came across with a note of uncertainty. "If you'd be willing to share. I'm a little embarrassed to ask anyone else."

"You haven't done it?"

"No. It's considered weird to stick to my birthform, but I think there's nothing wrong with my body. If I don't conform to the exact ideal of physique, is it the worst thing to have some genetic diversity? I don't see the harm. Why would I undergo such a life-changing procedure for no good reason?"

"I don't know. It's horrible, man. You feel yourself dying, there's that panic of being trapped and knowing the knife's falling, then bam, your brain snaps off. The transition to the new body was so sudden and jarring; my tongue still feels inside-out in my mouth. Corai said she'd done it like 6000 times, no sweat. I just don't see why Elusians would endure that so often."

"Because we grow bored in time, and think that a new physical shell will offer an entirely new experience. I am skeptical."

"Then you…haven't grown bored yet? How long have you, uh, been alive for?"

"10,027 years. I confess, life does grow tiresome, but I've tried to devote my time to sixty-year chunks devoted to one career, one granular field of study; I master a skill and become weary of it, then move on. I tend to gravitate to being a scientist, but still, I'm running out of things to toy with. Not exhausting all of the unique flavors this existence has to offer…it's not possible. AI had it right."

I lifted the bar back up, resuming my workout. "Hold on. Elusians need to work? Technology does everything for you. You don't need worker bees and a 9-5."

"Of course not. We don't NEED to do anything, and that's the issue. Perhaps life's luster is only when that flame burns out bright. Nevertheless, in our studies, we choose to try to find some purpose."

"Nothing's good enough? You don't have any passions you'd want to pursue."

"I…think that humans escaping The Gap is the only time I've felt excited in 2500 years. Watchers like your Corai have to be content with a glacial pace of progression, drip feeding themselves with a will to live by the vicarious experience of the fire you still have. I've considered such a life, but it is, at the end of the day, a passive existence of nothingness."

"There have to be other things to live for than work, Kenem, c'mon. You're not limited or confined. You could be anything you wanted. Surely Elusians have more interesting pursuits: holidays, events, cultural gatherings, traveling the multiverse!"

"Of course we do. I've sought joy in all of those. Our central holiday, Daraban, celebrates our first expedition to another dimension, which is so long ago; they warp massive showers of sparks across the whole sky, like it's raining fire droplets. It's beautiful, but how often can you see the same thing and be in awe?"

"If it means a lot to you and inspires you, I'd hope forever?"

"That's because you don't yet understand what forever means. You could listen to music, but you'll eventually see all songs have the same chords; concerts are the tired tunes of the young who foolishly believe they've unearthed something no one ever has. Sports are silly contests that become repetitive in their motions, predictable as gravity."

"I played sports. Every game is different and exhilarating; you should try watching some human games!"

"I'll pass. Entertainment's merely people and their drama, stale tropes and rehashed tales. The internet fills time but means nothing. Food—there's only so many flavors your tongue can perceive. Thrill-seeking is a few infusions of adrenaline before it becomes mundane. What is worthy to fill an unending existence? What can tide a mind over forever?"

I frowned. "You're fools, the lot of you. The most important thing in life is the people you care about. Spend time with them. You must have a family and friends to share these activities with and give them new meaning!"

"There's only so much you can talk to one person about when nothing ever changes."

"Then make it change! That lack of diversity, everything being tailormade to be perfect, it's what's killing you. There are still corners of the multiverse that you could've gone to and helped people, and found your purpose in seeing how to change their lives. You could've spent your time partaking in the different cultures across the galaxy, but you just think you're above them. Do you dream about doing things that have never been done?"

"No. Look at our technology. What more would you have us do?"

"I don't know. Figure it out, Kenem. You have all the time you need; you could remember what it's like to fail and to struggle. You talked about the risks of customization? Make a body transplant that gives yourself wings, or four arms like the Fakra, or fucking devil horns just so we can erase all doubts that you suck. Be weird. Start there!"

Kenem stewed over my words for a long moment. "Perhaps I will. Thank you, Estai. You've given me much to think about."

I set down the levitating pull-up bar, and walked off down the hallway. I didn't want to envision a future where I stopped caring to inject my weird, spontaneous humor into every situation. Worse still, I didn't want to imagine Mikri deciding that life was pointless like the AIs that the Elusians had brought up. Was there only so much I could talk to the tin can about, before he'd grow bored of his "scripts running for me?"

I walked over to where Takahashi and Velke were sitting at a cafeteria table, needing a palate cleanser. "You know, now that I'm an Elusian, I could get away with probing you both and it wouldn't be weird."

Velke's face contorted out of its scowl. "Preston. I can't tell you apart from them. I hope you don't become too much like them."

"I fucking hope so too, man. You see all that they have—and they're miserable. They don't care about anything, not just the Fakra or humans."

"You talk like you feel sorry for them. I thought you hated them. Don't tell me this new body of yours makes you feel some funny kind of friendship. They need to be fucking removed from the picture, or their next creations will be treated just like us too. They spread their misery wherever they go."

"Of course I'm still angry at them! No one that doesn't care about their creations should be making anything new," I spat. "Is that what your people think of me doing this? That I've forgotten their transgressions, that I'll be sympathetic and just like them?! I just think we should take care not to be like them."

Sagua cleared her throat behind me. "I agree with that last statement. Showing empathy for how wayward and dysfunctional the Elusians are isn't a bad thing, Commander Velke. You're an intelligence officer; the only way to understand your enemy is to empathize."

"Carter and Aguado have made great sacrifices for humanity," Takahashi piped up. "You've told me yourself how much of a trial it was to experience death through the nanobots. These two did that and more. There's no escaping the humanity that they've temporarily shed."

Velke hung his head. "You're right. My quarrel's not with you. But you don't need to empathize with everyone who fucks you over! That doesn't make it right; it doesn't even the score. It doesn't harden you for what needs to be done."

"Empathizing with your enemy is one of the hardest things to do," Sagua sighed, sage wisdom flowing from her with ease. "Sometimes, that understanding makes you sad for what could have been. You know why it's turned out the way it has, and you know things didn't have to be like this."

"It had to be like this from the moment they abandoned us. And Preston: as for what my people think of you bodyhopping over to an Elusian form? They think it's crazy. If you are our allies, not their lackeys, I want the intel you get on Suam. I hear you depart in two days' time, and I don't want to miss a thing."

I mock-saluted. "Aye-aye."

Two days…he's right. That's really fricking soon, but at least we can get this over with and return to being human again. I hope we'll be able to blend in alright; I can't startle over there like I did when Kenem talked to me. I need to lock in.

Sagua shared a glance with Mikri, who was holding onto her arm for moral support. "My goal is to understand humanity's role in all of this, so I can keep us safe. If you're our allies, Velke, that mission is looking out for your best interests too."

"Yes, I'll be very interested to hear what you find," the Fakra grumbled.

The moment of truth was near, as we'd soon attempt to infiltrate the Elusian government's next future-reading probe. Kenem's words still echoed in my neurons, reminding me why I couldn't lose my sense of purpose. I hoped Corai knew what she was doing to acquire that vital authorization, and also that after this mission, we'd have more certainty about why our creators foresaw humans taking their place. All that Sagua, Mikri, and I needed to do was to blend in on Suam long enough to get the job done.

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