Colors of Ichor
From earthling physiology books, Chloe knows that when oxygen strikes a human's open wound, their blood will flow out red. That thick, scarlet liquid is essential proof that they are human. To her, red blood is what completes a human. Despite earthlings with their vast genetics, all of their innards are the same. They all share the same veins, and the blood running through those veins are definite proof of their humanity.
So, when she stumbles, too invested in reading her galactic map, and her hand clutches a coarse tree for balance, she is stunned. As she stares at her hand, the cut bleeds out with round, red drops. She watches, transfixed, as the oily liquid bubbles in her skin before beginning to cascade down her palm.
Cygnans have pink blood running in their bodies. Humans have red blood when oxygen hits the injury. Even with oxygen attacking her wound, her blood should remain pink and not blind her with crimson.
"Oh, shit! Uh, I mean, crap! Y-you're hurt!"
Bobby's scratchy yelp drags her out of her stupor. His fingers twitch as he raises them, mouth slack-jaw. He watches as the blood begins to dribble off her fingers, and his hands shoots into his vast lump of hair.
Chloe does not watch as he procures a tiny bandage from his hair. Even when he curls his fingers around her extended hand to apply the bandage, her gaze is elsewhere. She focuses on the slick blood cooling on her index finger. It bubbles and drips onto her sneaker, leaving a rich, scarlet splotch as if to torment her.
Bobby sighs, smoothing the bandage against her palm and asking, "Is, uh, that good?"
She clears her throat, hating the sudden clump clogging her airwaves. Massaging her throat, Chloe nods. She swallows down the glob and with phlegm staining the roof of her mouth, she says, "Affirmative."
"Good! That's good," Bobby blurts, rubbing his neck. He offers a grin, snaggleteeth and gums hovering over his lower lip.
Chloe hums. She presses her thumb against the bandage and feels it shift against her injury. A faint throb pulses in her palm. The bandages creases, and she releases it, watching it return to normal. The pain from her hand travels up to her chest and pinches what humans would call her heart.
Bobby bends over, taking her forlorn map, which is a collection of graphing paper stapled together with her marker drawings as indications of planets and stars. He smooths the creases and fixes his stare on it. His brow furrows, evidently in concentration. He turns the map to Chloe, pointing at the violet, double-ringed Fath 703.
"So, uh, what was it that, uh, what was it that you were sayin' 'bout this planet? What's it called again?" Bobby asks, and Chloe accepts her map with her uninjured hand.
"Fath 703," she corrects, her voice muffled by her helmet. "It's a neighboring, pacifistic planet to Cygnus A. They're one of the several leaders of the greater galactic community."
"Oh! That's the one next to your home planet," Bobby says, his expression brightening. He seems proud of himself for remembering, and Chloe knows he should be. He's the only one who even bothers to listen to her lectures about space.
Chloe nods. "That's right."
She continues on with their discussion, which returns to the norm. He listens as she informs him about the majesties of space, the swirling black holes and rich planets with technology beyond earthly understanding.
Still, even as she talks, her minds wanders. Her thoughts are stained with red blood dripping down her brain and coating her vocal chords. She's thankful for her helmet as it catches the reverberations of her voice, muting them and ensuring Bobby does not notice her weariness.
She keeps telling herself that she is a Cygnan trapped in Whispering Rock with misfit children and unbelieving adults. Her sentiment wraps around her head, but it loses traction on the scarlet ooze and falls. Still, she holds fast each time her fingers slip and forces the notion to stick.
Chloe glances at her planet drawn as a large orange circle with rosy rings in the fashion of a double helix surrounding it and steels herself. She thinks to herself that the planet's oxygen simply reacted strangely with her blood as Bobby grins at her. Not even the wrong colored blood can change the truth invigorating her mind, and she returns his smile.