She just makes it.

James nearly threw the table in his panic, while he stood. He just caught, in the corner of his eye, Aurora nearly diving into her stomach into his room. She must be going back under the bed. He'd need to get whoever this is out quickly, or she could dry up on the carpet.

He peaked out through the crack, to see two very stiff men in white suits and black ties. "Hello? We're with the Novaxan Placement Program. We're lookingfor a runaway in the area. The foster family says it's been several days, and they're worried their foster Nova is in danger. We're checking door to door seeing if anyone has anything missing, or unusual circumstances. Leaky hoses, or possibly raided trash? They eat fungi mostly, so it's possible the runaway is surviving off of thrown out food."

James couldn't help imagine Aurora naked, digging through people's garbage. Covered in filth, still that pale dead color he found her as. A chill went through his spine. "Uh, no. I haven't."

One of the men, slightly taller than his companion, asked "May we come inside? We've been asked by the local police department to give people a quick go-over of how to approach this runaway if possible, what to look for."

He bit his lip and tried not to glance at his room. He opened the door further, hoping not to seem suspicious. "Yeah, but only if it's quick. I have a friend in the hospital I'm supposed to visit soon."

The shorter of the two followed him in first, speaking up. "Perfectly understandable, sir. We'll be quick, I promise."

They sat down on his sofa and glanced around in his house. He sat in the reclining chair to their left. "The runaway we're looking for is a female Novaxan. She'll probably be dehydrated, so she may be more prone to violence. Her foster family said she had been known to show aggressive behavior, even trying to bite one of their visitors. If you see her, don't approach if she has red spots. They use colors that their body to show emotions. If you can, find a blue light. They interpret that color as peaceful."

James cocked his head. "Colors for emotions? Like, instead of facial expressions?"

The tall one shook his head. "Not quite. They still smile and show expression, but it isn't as recognizable as ours because they don't have body hair. It's more like vocal inflections, and added context. Cool colors tend to be peaceful or happy, warm colors are more aggressive or afraid. If she flickers a color at you, it's how they ask questions. So find a blue light that can flicker, so you can convey a question. These colors are almost entirely reflexive, so if she's peaceful she'll answer back with a solid blue, or it will sort of work it's way across her skin."

He desperately wanted to ask for more details, but between his cover of needing to leave soon and not wanting to draw suspicion he had to hold back. Still, it was something that would help bring more context to their conversations.

The short one continued, "Now, if you are given clearance to approach: she is almost definitely dehydrated, so try to talk her into allowing you to fill a bath for her with water. They can survive in nearly any water, but if you can get an optimal mix beforehand it would be a huge help. The more optimal their water is, the more cognitive they are. It would mean a more productive interview."

That wasn't an opening he'd let slip by. "What optimal mix?"

"Here," the tall one pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down a bunch of ingredients on it. "The ratios on there are for an average 80 gallon tub."

James scanned the list quickly, finding magnesium, calcium, sulfate, potassium, and salt. Easy enough to find. He looked at the clock on his phone. "Is there anything else I should know?"

The two men shared a nod. The shorter one spoke. "Just two more things. If she's red, or bares her teeth at you, don't move closer. They're not much different than us in strength or speed, but both of those are threats. She could be like a cornered animal, and we don't want her or anyone else getting hurt while we try to find her. If you see anything like consistently leaky faucets outdoors, or raided garbage cans contact the police. They've been made aware of the whole situation, and they'll bring one of our people along to help communicate. She doesn't know English yet, so it's still risky trying to approach on your own."

Finally, a way to ask about that. He didn't hide his confusion. "Wait, why not? If they're living with us, wouldn't it be smarter to make sure they can communicate?"

The shorter one shook his head. "They didn't want that. They have a handful of their race that speak languages found here on Earth, but for the most part they wanted to preserve their culture here. There's a large scale project building a city for them in the Pacific, off the coast of Hawaii. The foster system was to allow them a way to roam around above ground. Sixty years or so of restlessness was causing too much tension, and they were beginning to feel more and more like prisoners."

James squinted. "Aaand why am I allowed to know about this new city?"

"It's not a secret, everythi g was declassified and made public information when the foster program was initiated. Foster homes were supposed to have an escort with them, to make sure no one who would have a problem with another sentient race here would become violent. Other than that, if a Novaxan wants to learn a language that's up to them. They learn quickly, so all they have to do is put in a request for the proper equipment, have optimal water conditions, and they should be able to learn any language between six hours and three days."

"That's a pretty wide margin...", James mused.

"It depends on the language. Some languages have so many rules, forms, and dialects that it takes longer. You can find more on the foster websites if you make a login."

He shook his head. As much as he needed to know more, he couldn't risk looking suspicious. "Nah, that's alright. Just curiosity in the moment. I should get ready to head out. I'll let the police know if I see any fish people in my back yard."

The tall man took a harsh tone. "Please. Sir. They're not "fish people". They're still just people. We can't afford to separate them from us more than they already are, or it could lead to frequent aggression."

James bit his lips, nodding with a slight heat from embarrassment on his face. "Right...sorry. I wasn't thinking."

The two men stood, shook his hand, and left while he went down the hall with the excuse of changing clothes. He peaked under the bed, holding a hand out. She was right where he expected, staring out with quick, silent short breaths. She looked between his face and his hand before taking it, accepting his help out. She hissed at the carpet dragging against her damaged skin.

Just as he glanced down and winced, she looked at him and touched the healing burn. "Aaooow.", she wined out. He lead her to the tub, to replace her bandages.