Human sweat is so acidic, it can corrode metals. By micrometers and over years, but still
Something there is, an ancient poet wrote, that does not like a wall. The poem was about the forces of entropy versus cogniscent-made structures, but Rael knew for a fact that that ‘something’ also pertained to humans.
They were practically a force of entropy on their own.
Case in point: Shayde.
Not only was she obviously isolated from current societal norms, but she had a large volume of oppositional habits that other humans had been trained out of since birth. Like her habit of running her fingertips along the walls.
“Ey oop. Som’at’s wrong wi’ t’ wall…” Now she ran the entirety of her palm over the surface. Closely followed by the other palm.
Rael sighed. “It’s an early experiment to discourage humans from touching walls. The micro surface was scientifically designed to create a sense dichotomy that would lead to feelings of depersonalisation and therefore frighten the humans away from touching it.”
“It looks smooth but it feels fuzzy,” Shayde giggled, and pressed her cheek against it. “Eee, lovely. I wonder if anyone’s tried makin’ a dress outta it…”
He physically dragged her away from the wall by her collar. “It used to be prickly. Before your species’ skin acids got to it. The scientists forgot to factor in your bizarre fascination with things that make your senses argue.”
“Is there still prickly bits? Can I feel ‘em?”
Ugh. Typical human. “No.”
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