Training Wheels
“Why do people hate us humans so much, Szjak?”
“It’s not hate. It’s just... your kind are rather loud.”
“Not all of us. I mean, we were minding our own business, talking quietly at our booth when that snail-looking thing kicked us out of the bar.”
“Not loud like that. See, this is hard for a race that hasn’t yet developed functional telepathy to understand, but in galactic society at large, it’s considered rather crass to walk around without at least partially masking your emotions and surface thoughts. You’re practically screaming right now, a muddled combination of indignation, shame, and confusion, with some hunger tossed in. We enlightened types just try to filter it out; we know it’s not your fault. But not everyone’s so understanding.”
“But I don’t know how to mask my thoughts.”
“Your race is still growing. We were all there once – that’s why I can’t be too impatient with your kind. You’re close, too; your mastery of your own minds will reach a level where you can meaningfully become full members of the galactic community.”
“How much longer?”
“Maybe a few thousand of your years.”
“That’s soon?”
“Sometimes I forget how young you humans are.”
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