She is surprised

The female looks up once more and squints, as if truly seeing me for the first time. "Oh, my God!" she exclaims. "Jesus Christ!"

"Jesus Christ!" The epistemologer sounds excited, as excited as an epistemologer ever is. "That could be a corruption of Ἰησοῦς Χριστός, one of the aliases Helium reported they were using in their final message from Earth! Perhaps you could ask the female about that?"

"It sounded like an exclamation to me," I sub-vocalize back. "Not a typical human greeting, either. Is there perhaps something wrong?"

"Analyzing," responds the epistemologer. "I believe I have a possible explanation. Do you see how all the other humans around us are wearing woven fabrics on their bodies? Your form is the only one unclad in such material."

"This is considered a social breach?" I ask, frustrated. "Why did you not inform me of this before?"

"Information about the custom was missing from my databanks. I am only making the induction now based on observation."

"Very well," I sigh. "I shall have to improvise around this situation."

I hold my hands out to the female in what I hope will be interpreted as a peaceful gesture. "I apologize for my appearance. I hope it does not cause undue agitation. As I said, I am hoping to speak to your leader."

"Wha--?" The female pauses and appears to be processing. Perhaps she is consulting her own epistemologer? Do normal humans have epistemologers? "You...you want to speak to Ms. Teasedale?" Her eyes travel the length of my form. "You must be the new painslut for the BDSM wing. I...hope you realize you're not required to wear your work uniform outside of work?"

"I find it more comfortable to be like this," I say, improvising.

"Freaky nudist bitch," she mutters to herself, too low for normal human hearing but loud enough for the epistemologer to pick up. "Alright, come along. I'll take you to see the boss."

Satisfied with myself for navigating that conversation successfully, I follow the female as she travels through several doors and passageways within the structure. At one point, remembering the epistemologer's earlier words, I decide to query her for more information. "You mentioned this Jesus Christ? Or perhaps it was Ἰησοῦς Χριστός? Do you know him personally? Perhaps you could introduce me sometime?"

She scoffs. "What the hell, lady? Are you on drugs? Does this seem like a church to you? Go talk to one of those fundie fucks if you're looking for the whole 'born again' experience."

"I can assure you I am not impaired by any substances." I commit her words to the epistemologer for later analysis. There may be something useful there.

As we pass around a corner from one passageway to another, we nearly contact another human, this one a male.

"Oh! Is this the new painslut?" he asks the female.

"Yeah... She wanted to talk to Teasedale."

"No time!" says the male. "She's needed in the BDSM wing immediately! The directives are piling up."

"Alright," says the female. She pats me on the arm. "Go with John here. He'll get you set up."

"But I can still speak with this Teasedale, correct?"

"Maybe later," says the male. "I'm sure she's very busy right now anyway. Come on."