They were looking at me like an alien. I was of course, but they shouldn’t know that at this point. It was too soon, far too soon for that. I cocked my head to the side and tried to coo like the baby-simulations that had been drilled into my head.
The old woman’s expression merely became more severe. I surveyed her. Her pointed spectacles gave her the look of the perpetually surprised, and somewhat unusually bug-eyed. She had wrapped a belt twice around her waist despite there being no need for it. Her dress was form-fitting enough, and the man’s belt was no pretty sight. Low self-worth should be the answer; which meant the older gentleman was NOT her husband.
I supposed I looked strange in my simulate body, but to be honest, we didn’t think they would notice. Humans are not the most intelligent species in the galaxy, despite the rest of the committee’s willingness to let them believe so. Now looking at the humans, I saw the details we had missed. Proportion for example; I have a rather large right fist, compared to the other. I was also closer to orange than tan, and I had blue hair. I do look like an alien.
Slowly, the woman disappeared from my line of vision as these thoughts ran into my mind. I was losing them; unfortunately that means I would have to make that ear-splitting noise. I cried as convincingly as I could. When I opened my eyes again, the woman was holding a carving knife over my crib.
I think they noticed.
This was inspired by an old Sunday Picture Press promt: