The Dividual
The first dividual I saw I was six, holding my uncle’s hand in immigrations. Ahead of us was a group of seven men and women, blue masks covering their heads and shoulders. They carried between them a pale violet tree trunk, its roots bundled in a burlap sack. I’d never seen a dividual’s heart pillar before.
Each person in that group had had a cord, violet and fleshy, connecting them to their tree. Sprouting from the smalls of their backs, they’d rippled like so many kite strings, and that should have been my clue that these ‘people’ weren’t ‘people’ at all, but ‘personas’—the personas of a dividual human.
Homo dividensis, the species of human with a different face for every facet of their existence.
My uncle had caught me staring.
They’re not like us, he had said.
It had been so easy to believe him then.
In my final year as a medical student, I secured an elective placement in Splint, the dividual city. I was to stay for that period with a dividual junior doctor.
Osqaris Saille’s house had a pebbled front. Glass beads, fossils and shells had been arranged in a swirling pattern, so that the house could be identified at the touch of a dividual tendril.
“Seizo Hanaoka?” said the persona who opened the door.
“Yes, that’s me.” I bowed my head. “Pleased to meet you, Doctor Saille. Thank you for arranging this opportunity for me.”
“It’s an opportunity for myself as much as for you.” They broke into a smile that showed teeth and gums the same pale violet as their skin, lips, hair and the houses of Splint. “Osqaris will do.”
The persona Osqaris Saille had presented to me was welcoming and interested, designed to make a good first impression of professional competence as well as friendliness.
I stared. I couldn’t help it. Osqaris’ features shifted like the satellite footage of Mars’ dunes. Their nose, cheekbones, profile rippled with the flux of ichor beneath their skin.
My own face should have been still, but it didn’t feel that way. The longer I stood on Osqaris’ doorstep, the more conscious I became of the crowd I was behind my eyes. Parts of me squirmed to hide from Osqaris’ studying gaze. Other parts urged me to give in to curiosity and step closer: Study back, like I’d come for.
They’re not like us.
Osqaris laughed.
“It’s not the done thing in Splint to show all of our selves on meeting, either.”
“Oh. Right.”
They winked. My cheeks warmed. “Call it a cultural taboo. I wouldn’t expect it of one of our own, so I wouldn’t expect it of an undivided. Even if you can’t help but carry all your personas with you at once.”
“That’s generous of you.”
“It must be so difficult keeping them all separate. I should think I’d muddle them very quickly if I were an undivided.” They held out their hand. “I’ll look forward to observing you, Seizo.”
“Likewise.”
The price of my placement in Splint was the agreement to be watched and studied.
I took Osqaris’ hand, and paused. The average dividual was six degrees cooler than the undivided human.
Osqaris’ hand didn’t strike me as notably cooler than my own. My body temperature sat squarely in the middle, three degrees above a dividual’s, three below an undivided.
I let go quickly, not because Osqaris’ hand had the tenuous elasticity of a water balloon, but because they too paused, glancing down
