[First Part]
[Second Part]


Charah leaned her ear on her palm as though cupping the microphone would help keep her conversation private. The voice on the other end was a young man's, dynamic and exuberant. He was telling her all the things Sintans would do should otherworlders make this discovery into a moral battle.

"Shh, Stev. You an't thinking staight. People won't ove'eact like that. The doctoh calmed them. You haven't seen the vidcast yet, you don't know... shh, calm down. I can hea people behind you. Don't get them iled up." She could picture some of their friends overhearing his fervent words and stopping, worried, trying to listen in...

'But, Charah!' he protested. 'People have got to know that we won't stand for it! If they tried any trade embargoes--'

"Stev!" she snapped, silencing him. Furtively, she glanced around. Most people were still clustered around Dr. Garban a few rooms away, commending his skill at damage-control. She'd slipped out of the crowd of atta-boys to answer this call. "Dr. Gaban has it unde contol. Nothing will be done against us. The Speakes aleady decided..."

'We'd refuse to let otherworlders on Sintas, you know,' Stev was saying in a muttered voice. 'We'd get rid of those already here who started acting huffy, send 'em all home. We'd form an independent government not linked to the Terran--'

"Stev," Charah growled warningly, shielding her voice with her other hand. "Be quiet. Nothing of the sot will happen. The won't be anything to wo'y about. We--" She jumped out of her skin when a hand fell gently on her shoulder, and she whirled to see Dr. Garban with brows drawn and eyes tired.

"Is something amiss?" he asked quietly, gaze wandering to her hand pressed to her ear and the other cupped around her lips. It was considered quite rude to interrupt someone clearly on a microphone call, and he'd never been anything but polite; had he overheard her and felt the need to let her know he was there?

"Just talking with a fend back home, doctoh." She forced a smile and straightened out of her subconscious hunch. "When will the vidcast be bodcasted?"

"It's starting now," Dr. Garban murmured. "That's why I came to find you. I thought you might want to watch the official version, even though you sat in on the conference."

She felt abashed and nodded. "Of couse, doctoh. Let me say goodbye, and I will be the." She patted his hand as he took it from her shoulder.

He smiled wanly, nodded, and continued down the hall. Charah sank back against the wall and unmuted the microphone. "The vidcast is coming on ight now, Stev. Go watch it. Don't cause touble!"

'Yes, mother,' her friend growled. A low 'beep' indicated the conversation had been terminated, and she sighed heavily. Images of her hometown floated to the forefront of her mind, populated with friends and family, all angry because-- but no, it wouldn't happen. Couldn't. The doctor had predicted widespread depression, but he wasn't Sintan. He didn't understand. Yes, the people of Sintas would be distraught and upset at such alienation, should it occur; but then, almost as quick as that dark mood would hit, a fire would be lit and the Terran government would find themselves with a problem. It could flare into a full-scale rebellion, a breaking of treaties, a colony world beginning their own separate system...

Charah shook her head rapidly, her short hair fluffing with the brisk motion. It was useless to think such thoughts; the vidcast would prove that peace and brotherhood still linked the worlds of humanity. She pushed away from the wall and took the same path as the doctor had a few moments earlier, slipping into a chair near the door when she found the right room. She was the only Sintan there; the rest were medical staff, scientists, and research assistants.

A few cast unreadable looks at her when they noticed her presence. She wondered why.

[First Part]


The doctor had a moment of dejà vu as he pushed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and stifled a heavy sigh. His audience was not being sympathetic, or even humane, in response to his presentation on the new humanoids of Sintas. Scientists of all branches, politicians of all settled planets, big names and executives of the major companies, and a handful of the most famous captains of the massive worldships. Some few were being quiet and looking mournful; some fewer were speaking up in support of the Sintans.

"Dr. Garban!" a woman's voice snapped, compelling him to open his eyes and view the holographic stage. Projectors across half a dozen worlds and a score of spacecraft were working in tandem, with barely a second's delay between transmissions. "Explain to us why these former colonists are so overwrought by their newly-affirmed lack of humanity when I have seen hundreds of newsclips and vids of the entire population embracing alien-like fads, tattoing their skin extensively, not keeping their hair under control, even returning to a more primitive style of combat when we have provided the best teekaydee instructors to--"

The doctor's eyes flicked to the read-out on his podium. The speaker was a Miss Anett Kiopf, a strong conservative on Terra. "Miss Kiopf," he interrupted in a level but slightly tired voice, as though she wearied him with her foolishness, "please be gracious enough to stop referring to them so negatively. The Sintans still are colonists, and they do not lack humanity; the genetic variants they possess do not alter their psychological development or the major patterns of their psyche. They are barely different enough to fail to reproduce with people of other worlds; that is the defining point at which the scientific community no longer considers them homo sapiens sapiens."

"But--" she tried.

He didn't let her overwhelm him. The audience had quieted in order to hear his soft-spoken words, and he wouldn't lose this chance. "The Sintans, like the Anarians, like the colonists of our other incredible and diverse worlds, comprise a culture. This culture was built off the core values and habits of the original colonists and it grew in the environment of Sintas, a hostile and dangerous place filled with beauty and natural wonder. Some young adults took to tracking how many times they'd escaped death by inking their arms; the practice spread and it became distinctly Sintan, and so embraced by more and more people as a way to identify themselves with each other, banded against their own world... and also as a way to link themselves more closely to their new home. It is a complex psychological development, just like the other 'fads' of which you spoke. Each colony world goes through drastic extremes in culture and behavior; it is part of the adaptive process in learning how to live again.

"If anything, Miss Kiopf, the Sintans' brazen cultural practices are proof that they do not lack humanity any more than the rest of our colonists."

There was applause for the first time in the conference, and Dr. Garban allowed himself a small, kind smile at the acclaim. Not everyone had clapped, of course, and the Terran woman sat down in an angry huff, muting her microphone and muttering to someone near her projector... but it was progress. These hundred-and-some people facing him would control how the colonists, the Terrans, the spacers, and even the Sintans reacted to the race-wide announcement. And if he could convince them that it was simply a matter of scientific interest and not a matter that needed a moral crusade, he could count himself a good man.

A man's hard voice broke through the fading applause. "Dr. Garban. Tell us of any dangers and concerns that other worlders or even spacers might need to know, both culturally and physically. What are the consequences, precisely, of this discovery?"

The doctor's gaze slid to his read-out again. Julis Reve, High Captain of the worldship Amurye. He looked up to face his audience again, solemn. "We have done extensive tests for the past two years, researching this entire concept. In our research, we confirmed that there is no biological danger that isn't inherent for -any- human on -any- world. There is no hidden disease in Sintan veins that would kill an off-worlder with a touch. There are no dangers at all, as a matter of fact, that are specific to Sintan and non-Sintan interaction."

The High Captain's image nodded, face carved into a serious look as though it were stone. "Then, what are the consequences?"

Dr. Garban allowed himself to smile a little, sadly. "This matter is largely an interest to the scientific community alone. We have never before been presented with such an example of adaptive evolution. The consequences outside of that interest can include irrational fear of Sintans by non-Sintans, widespread depression on Sintas if non-Sintans alienate and belittle them, and some companies needlessly withdrawing their assets and spacecraft from Sintan use."

Capt. Reve was unimpressed, but one thick eyebrow rose a millimeter. "You are saying, then, Doctor, that there is no cause for alarm, segregation, or even any practical change in relations with the Sintans?"

"You are correct, High Captain." Dr. Garban nodded. There was murmuring and muted microphones for several minutes, during which he stayed quiet and expressionless.

The Speaker for the worldships was the first to voice the unanimous decision of his party. "The High Captains will change nothing in reaction to this scientific discovery," he said with a broad smile. There was a round of nodding and short affirmations from the various spacers, and the doctor let himself exhale. If nothing else, it meant that trade with and transport to and from Sintas would not be restricted.

A few Speakers for corporations added their decisions to stay unchanged in regards to Sintas; a few others postponed their decisions until after their specialists could take an in-depth look at the Sintan medical reports and investigation. The politicians of each world said their piece personally, acting as Speakers for their planet, and though the Terran woman was harsh, even she promised no acts of hostility towards the non-humans.

Dr. Garban bowed his head. Disaster had been averted.

From the right wing of the doctor's stage, Charah took her hand from her heart and breathed a little easier.

The doctor pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.

It was true. It would have his name on it as the initial investigator, and as the medical expert who concluded the project. His name. Forever tied with this one revelation. He would be remembered for as long as the human race was alive. Down in the history records. Right there with the men and women who discovered electricity, who decoded the human genome, who went to Terra's moon, who made critical advancements in space flight, and who discovered each of the six colony planets.

Dr. Seoffrey Garban, a name that would become famous throughout the human portion of space. He couldn't stand it.

"Doctoh?" He looked up, meeting the brilliant yellow eyes of his patient. He couldn't smile. "Doctoh." She frowned. "You a unhappy. You have eeched a concluzun?"

"...my dear girl," he said, and his voice broke as he laid a gloved hand on her shoulder. "This is the end of a long road for both of us. I... can only thank you... for being a volunteer for my research from the very beginning. You--"

"Quit peeching," the young woman said, touching his wrist gently. "What is the eesult?"

Dr. Garban straightened, forcing his shoulders square. He lifted his hand and tapped her cheekbone with one fingertip. "The results. The chemical composition of your bones has altered 18% from normal human composition. You..." His voice had been strong, but it faltered. "Your people... are no longer capable of reproducing with the humans of Terra or other colony worlds outside your own." He watched her eyes and her face shift as the light of comprehension dawned. "The Sintans are... no longer just an ethnicity. You are... a different species, now. No longer human."

She stiffened and touched her palm to her cheek, narrow fingertips tracing the line of her brow. "But we don't... we don't look that diffent," she murmured. "Just the eyes, you know?..."

"And the teeth," Dr. Garban said gently, "and your nails and hair. Sintan eyes... it's been five generations since a native was born without yellow eyes. The hair follicle distribution across your bodies has gotten more even, less patchy, over the generations, as well. It is more fur-like than hair-like, and it doesn't grow as long. Your nails are small and sharp, not square. And your teeth..."

He hadn't expected her to go into denial, but her eyes flashed as she locked gazes with him. "Ow teeth! Just because we have fo o five sets doesn't mean anything! Most humans these days get the thed set befo they die!"

"Charah..." His voice was still kind and patient, if weary. "Your teeth are chemically different. They don't harbor plaque or the typical mouth afflictions that the rest of us suffer. They don't chip or rot or break nearly at all. Like your bones, they have changed." The doctor paused and allowed his tone to deepen, solemnly. "The final piece of evidence was testing the DNA of you and a handful of other Sintan women and men to see if you could still reproduce with off-worlders. It wasn't possible."

Her hands were shaking, and she clasped them tightly together, then linked her ankles and tucked her legs under the high cot on which she was sitting. She was still in the white robe of a patient, covered from neck to calves and wrist to wrist, and she looked very young for a moment. "You a ... you a shoo. Positive? The is no mistake?"

Dr. Garban clasped her shoulders. "My dear Charah, I am certain. I wouldn't dare tell you if I hadn't already begun the report for the scientific journals. I am that sure."

She dropped her head. "A we... aliens, then? To the human ace?"

"No. No, not yet." He forced a smile. "My report will be geared towards establishing your people as a variant of humans... as equals and still a part of our organization. You and the other volunteer patients will be granted special protections as needed. This... it won't be as bad as you fear, Charah. That I promise."

Already, she was regaining her composure, and the few tears that had fled down her face were wiped away. She looked up, eyes narrowed. "I will hold you to that pomise, doctoh."

He put forth his best smile, and he nodded as though he believed his own oath.