I wandered through the Neanderthal camp. We faced harsh weather conditions, and the humans were pursuing us mercilessly. It all taxed heavily on the morale of the group. Where was the hope? They had the technology and the natural capabilities of their own intelligence; they had the superior abilities of communication that we had yet to grasp. What could we do against such cruel power except run, hide, and wait for death.
Monkeys, they called us. So what if we showed signs of intelligence, of higher thought and emotion. If we could not speak in their tongue, we were legally incapable and thus mere animals in our own right.
Being the only one in the group with the bone structure to do so, I walked up to a family of three. The two parents were huddled around their child, keeping her warm from the gales beyond the concrete shelter.
I asked them how they were doing, both out of concern for their well being and also in an attempt to raise their hopes. If they knew someone else was looking out for them, it might ease their worries, if even a little.
When they looked up at me, their eyes grew wide upon seeing my face, almost wild with caution. I let the fearful expression slide out of my memory. I knew why they were afraid. Compared to the other Neanderthals, I looked disturbingly human. Whereas they were hairier and shorter in stature, I had a taller forehead, and a smaller nose. I could even pass as human if I were to cover my arms and stand up straight. I had even mastered English, at a third grade level at least.
"Who are you?" The father asked in the characteristic guttural voice common to our kind. His body was tense, ready to protect his family. It was a language only Neanderthals could understand and feasible replicate. It changed from generation to generation and was mostly body language. But because of that, the humans could not understand us reliably and was one of the reasons they had classified us as a sub-par species.
"I am a friend." I replied calmly.
"What are you."
It was much less a question, and more of a statement. I hesitated for a moment while I thought about it. I translated it to human speech and back into Neanderthal as I thought about the question from every angle. I didn't know the answer yet myself. Everything in my being told me I wasn't a Neanderthal, and yet, I wasn't quite human either. I sufficed for something more roundabout.
"I am like you. I am worried for the children."
I showed him my fur covered forearm, a characteristic that was most definitely not human. The male seemed to accept that, and he lowered his guard so I could check the child and the female. Both were very cold.
If there was ever a time to use it, now it was. From a pouch on my belt, I produced a match set, there were only twelve left. Until I found a way to start fire using normal methods, I would have to use another of my very limited supply.
A moment later, I built a small fire next to this family. Their astonished eyes showed they were both grateful, but they still had that same trace of fear. I nodded my head to them peacefully which was a notion of charity we had picked up from the humans when they were still our caretakers, the kinder ones at least.
Using a handful of long, dry grass, I caught the tips on fire and carried my makeshift torch toward another family who had seen what I had just made and gathered their own pile of wooden splinters.
One after the other, I carried fire to each family, reminding them not to bring the fire too close to the edge of the shelter, or the humans would see us with their "metal eyes." I knew their drones could sense heat as well as light, but with the wind and the cold this extreme, the danger of freezing to death was higher than being caught. Perhaps even the drones were having a hard time dealing with the snowstorm.
When the camp was well situated around each of their fires and still wore the human clothing, I decided to head toward the nearest human town. With my face, blending in with humans was a simple matter of wearing thick clothing and standing as straight as I could manage.
I fumbled toward the town, lights already visible to my darkness attuned eyes, fixing my gait as I went. Finally, when I hit the sidewalk I had remastered the art of walking, and immediately started towards the food distribution facility.
Every human was exceptional when it came to quickly and accurately discerning faces. On top of that, they had a stationary "metal eyes" on each door that checked an "ID." I had a low success rate because of this.
I mouthed words, practicing my human speech as I walked.
While I was the only Neanderthal ever to produce human speech, it was still very hard for me to do. Neanderthals didn't have the right vocal cords to match their tongues. As such, I could only produce a few basic phrases at a time, and learning how to produce those phrases took time. That didn't say anything about my understanding. I could understand what the humans were talking about any time I liked, as well as many of the functions of their technology. I was unique when it came to this understanding. None of the other Neanderthals seemed to grasp the concept of the human "eyes" that are not made of flesh, but are instead made of metal and lightning.
I practiced my phrases a little more before I found a suitable target. A human medic and another human officer, judging by the looks of their uniforms.
I strode toward the pair in my human mimicry of a walk. I raised a gloved hand in a gesture of friendliness and scratched my head in seeming embarrassment. The act didn't raise any psychological alarms in the pair. That was good. Humans had an uncanny knack for recognizing fellow humans from monsters like me. I didn't even attempt a charming smile anymore.
They remained unalarmed, asking me simple questions. When I finally got close enough, they realized something was wrong, and their expressions changed to those of baffled horror. At that I charged them before the officer could draw his weapon. I slammed into him with my full Neanderthal strength, knocking him off of his feet. His head hit the frost covered pavement with a sickening thud and I winced.
Violence was something I hated more than anything. If it were not for the children needing the human medicine, I would not have been there at all. The officer did not get back up, but no blood leaked from his body. He was just knocked out. But based on how cold it was, I would have to take him inside before I left.
I turned to the human that I had pinned against a building wall. I moved my finger to my lips in the human gesture for silence. When the human stopped screaming for help, I posed my question.
"Where. Medicine."
His eyes widened at my words. Words that only beings with rights should be able to ask. He shivered at my intense, intelligent gaze.
"W-what are you?!"
I thought about it for a second this time. What better way to prove our humanity than to plant seeds here and now. When he tells his fellow humans, those seeds might grow into something more.
"I. Am. Man."