Betty Adams's Blog, page 2

Humans are Weird – Fixedness

​ Humans are Weird – Fixedness  Chief Engineer Awes adjusted the satchel on his back and took a deep steadying breath before he thumped the door in front of him. His heart was thumping with nervous energy as he geared himself up for the confrontation he knew was coming. The idle thought that humans slightly different heart structure, more compartmentalized, more efficient still gave them this same sensation when nervous made him gurgle with amusement for some reason. With a final shake of his hips to clear his mind he swung his tail against the door.
“Come in,” called the muffled voice of Director Polepost.
Awes stomped through the door and immediately started talking.
“We must polarize the ends of the physical drive shafts. I know that this goes against centuries, no, millennia of design theory. I know it will limit general usefulness, but remember that all of those millennia were developing without-”
“Awes!” Director Polepost barked out, glaring at him from over the physical display screen in front of his face.
Awes snapped his jaws shut and slumped, clutching his tablet in front of him.
“May I point out that you have sent me the full argument for this change in text and audio form no less than seven times?” Director Polepost said, running his tongue over his teeth in a clear sign of irritation.
Awes grunted in acknowledgment and scuffed his hind-paws on the floor.
Director Polepost sighed and pressed the talons of his fore-paws together, peering at Awes with a thoughtful set to his long jaws.
“On of the main principles of our design work here,” Polepost said with slow deliberateness, “is based on the fact that our equipment goes out to colonial worlds. This equipment needs to be as flexible as possible. There is no knowing how it may need to be used, to be refitted. It was my own great-great-grand-sire who set out the formal decree that it was criminal, nay reprehensible to deliberately limit the usefulness of any given tool manufactured for the colonies.”
Awes gritted his teeth and let Polepost speak, once he brought his family history into the equation there was no stopping him.
“It is our purpose to provide for those brave explorers the tools that they lack the complex infrastructure to craft for themselves.”
Awes let his attention wander to counting the grains in the mural behind Polepost’s head. When the director had finally wound down from the wind-gust of family pride driving the sails of his mental mill, Awes held up his tablet and showed the video he had qued up on it before he had entered the room. A human male, about a quarter of the way through his life-cycle, had – with his bare hands – bent a drive shaft double and attached it from one outlet to another on the same mill. He could be heard chuckling in amusement as he filmed turning the mill on. The sounds that filled the office from the outputs on the tablet were truly horrific. First the grinding of the mills as the counter force tore it apart, and then the frantic cursing of the humans as his ‘brilliant idea’ sent fragments of shrapnel flying out to strike the camera. Awes stopped the replay there and glared over at Director Polepost who was staring at him with slack-jawed shock. Awes let the silence fill the room.
“Why...why did you not send me that recording with your original arguments?” Polepost gurgled out.
“Because I only received it from colony Beta-five this morning with the daily data stream,” Awes snapped out. “My arguments were previously based only on theoretical possibilities.”
Polepost gulped and shook his head.
“Was the human, as they say, chemically inhibited?” he asked uneasily.
“He was sober as a judge, as they say,” Awes growled.
“They why…” Director Polepost asked, waving his tail in confusion.
“Who knows?” Awes barked out. “Maybe sleep deprivation, maybe the human didn’t have enough threats in his environment, maybe the human somehow knew just enough to know how to do this without knowing how bad an idea this was-”
“Did anyone die as a result of this?” Director Polepost asked in horrified tones.
“No, thank the grist,” Awes muttered. “The human at least had sense enough to try this in the off hours.”
“I think…” Director Polepost hesitated
“That we should at least consider polarizing the physical design of the drive shafts?” Awes demanded.
“How would you even-” Director Polepost muttered. “They are drive shafts?”
“I propose a chiral system of end linkages,” Awes stated, cheerful now that he sensed an opening. Despite the chaos humans seemed to be causing in the mixed colonies their over-spill of destruction frequently made for very effective illustrations.


Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh

Humans are Weird - Fer Sure Fer Sure

 Humans are Weird – Fer Sure Fer Sure  Direct solar radiation had been beating down on this part of the planet for weeks. The ground-cover plants had let their surface biomass largely desiccate except in the places where the ground water was close to the surface. Below the surface their roots greedily hoarded the precious liquid. The lager trees keep their stoma tightly closed during the day, limiting Notes the Passing Changes sense of smell. Many of the motile creatures had altered their habbits, moving only in the cool dawn or dusk, spending the hours of most direct radiation exposure sprawled out in shade panting and gasping. Polinating insects hid in their underground burrows, vibrating in an effort to keep them cool. Human and Shatar gardeners alike were stalking their cultivated lands, altering watering schedules as seemed best. The Shatar were shedding patches of desiccated outer membrane flavoring the duff with their waxy taste. The humans had taken to flinging themselves into whatever body of water was available without hesitation.
Notes the Passing Changes had noted with renewed curiosity that all of this led to increased conflict; conflict between species, conflict across species, and perhaps most oddly, internal conflict within each individual. Curiosity about this last was why Notes the Passing Changes had sent a reminder through the fibers to focus on situations where lone humans began displaying aggression. The results had been fascinating, but far more data was needed before any conclusions could be drawn.
Just as the temperature was beginning to lessen as the local star dipped towards the horizon fibers near the kennels detected soft cursing and the presence of one human. Notes the Passing Changes eagerly let awareness flow to the site, but was disappointed when more detailed examination revealed that the issue was a genuine danger rather than heat induced internal frustration. Still, it would be both impolite and immoral to ignore a human in danger.
“Farmer Kaya?” Notes the Passing Changes vocalized. “Do you require assistance?”
The woman let out a short profanity before saying, “Yes! Thank you. Call Atsidi and tell me a wasp nest found me. Four, five, eight? Somewhere between five and seven stings. In fact call my mom, she has the first-aid kit.”
Notes the Passing Changes focused awareness at the necessary nodes to pass on the communications. The human was jerking her limbs in odd patterns, snatching at the small flying insects that appeared to have followed her several dozen meters from their underground nest. The human twisted her head around, hesitated in her movement, gave another profanity and began stripping off her cloth radiation shielding.
“Notes,” she said through gritted teeth, “If you can, please don’t let anyone close enough to see me naked.”
“Does that apply to your mother and mate?” Notes the Passing Changes asked.
“Of course not!” Kaya snarled. “They’ve seen me naked plenty of times.”
Notes the Passing Changes added this observation to a thought composter and watched with interest as Kaya, now free from her cloth began splashing cold water over rapidly growing welts on her skin.
“My boob!” she exclaimed with frustration in her voice. “They got my boobs! One of them.”
“You are currently providing your sporeling with nutrition with your boobs are you not?” Notes the Passing Changes asked. “Will the injection of venom interfere with your ability to continue that?”
Kaya paused her frantic movement and frowned.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly, with unease tinting her voice.
Just then her mother, summoned from an afternoon nap, rounded a corner with a bag of medical supplies and began treating the welts. Her husband Atsidi arrived shortly after with their sporeling and assisted them. Notes the Passing Changes watched with interest. The sporeling began to make wordless noises and Kaya glanced over at him uneasily.
“Mom,” she said. “Is it okay to nurse Pip after getting stung like this.”
“It’ll be fine,” her mother assured her. “Your body has already broken down the venom.”
However Kaya still moved as if mental unease was mixed with her physical pain. Her mother noticed this and suggested that if she was concerned she look up the information in the medical database. Kaya smiled and glanced over at a nearby speaking tree.
“Notes? Will you?” she asked.
Notes the Passing Changes rustled the vines in the central library into action and searched the relevant information.
“The sequestered information agrees with your progenitor,” Notes the Passing Changes said. “No negative result has ever been observed from human infants nursing from breasts stung by this insect species.”
“What species was it?” Kaya asked.
“The paper wasps imported from Earth,” Notes the Passing Changes said.
Kaya gave a frustrated growl and described them in what Notes the Passing Changes assumed were profane terms. Though how she expected insect mating pairs to engage in legal agreements about child rearing when the male died after mating Notes the Passing Changes wasn’t certain.
The four human finished the application of first aid and moved off towards their dwelling together. Notes the Passing Changes followed Kaya with awareness observing her with curiosity. Her mate had to resume his work with the domestic mammal species on the farm and her mother took the infant so Kaya could rest while the anti-inflammatory medications did their work. However instead of laying down to sleep Kaya went to her com-unit and contacted the human midwife who had attended the sporling’s birth. The com-unit informed Kaya that the midwife couldn’t answer her and Kaya grimaced but left a message asking if it was safe to nurse her sporling. That done she dropped down onto a rest surface and directed her bifocal eyes at the blank ceiling. Notes the Passing Changes observed her for a moment and then rustled the interior communication bush for her attention.
Kaya started and then twisted her head around to look at the bush with a tired grin.
“Do you have a question Notes?” she asked.
“Were you not satisfied that I had translated the information from the library sufficiently?” Notes the Passing Changes asked.
“What?” Kaya replied, blinking slowly.
“The communication you just made to the midwife,” Notes the Passing Changes indicated the com-unit with a gesture of the leaves.
Kaya blinked and nodded with a yawn.
“No,” she said. “I’ve double checked your research before. If you say that is what the records show, that’s what they show.”
“Then did you doubt your mother’s experience?” Notes the Passing Changes asked.
“No, no,” Kaya said, “I just wanted to be sure. You know, for sure.”
“And the midwives hold the highest authority in your opinion,” Notes the Passing Changes suggested.
“No,” Kaya said slowly, “I think if the midwives had answered me first I still would have asked Mom and you. I just wanted all the data points, just to be sure.”
“My answer, your mother’s answer, and the midwives are all based on the information in the archives,” Notes the Passing Changes observed. “You are still relying on one source.”
Kaya smiled and shrugged. “Well asking three different people made me calm down,” she said. “Go figure.”
Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh

Humans are Weird - Consequences

Humans are Weird - Consequences “It is a fundamental maxim of any civilization that survived long enough to invent spaceflight,” Council Leader Fourth Flap was saying, calmly and slowly – so calmly, so very calmly, you had to be so calm when pointing out things like this. “Laws should be as few as possible, as general as the situation allows. Making a new law for each iteration of-”
“I know Seventh Click’s maxims of good government as well as you do!” Fourteenth Trill snapped, waving his wings in fluttering frustration. “Of course I agree with them! But Seventh Click never had to deal with humans! I know this is the fourth-fifth -”
“Fifty-seventh,” Council Leader Fourth Flap (calmly) interjected.
“Fifty-seventh regulation suggested this year -”
“Suggested by your wing alone,” Council Leader Fourth Flap pointed out, deliberately shifting a pile of regulations suggested by other wings with a claw painted blue.
Commander Fourteenth Trill actually stopped talking and followed the bright blue wingtip with his eyes, his ribcage expanding and contraction with his frustrated breaths, even as his nostril frills danced in the tiny wind thus generated.
“I know,” Commander Fourteenth Trill growled out in tones low enough even a human could hear them. “I know, just please listen to my explanation of why this particular regulation is needed before you decide to lump it in with the general safety mindfulness regulation set.”
“Actually I was going to ‘lump it in’ as you say, such a colorful human phrase that, with the non-sapient sentient organism cruelty regulation set,” Council Leader Fourth Flap murmured, shifting the papers around. “But do present the thermal as it rises.”
“That’s – fine, very well,” Commander Fourteenth Trill said, rubbing his winghooks over his sensory horns. “We were doing a survey of Planet 754-x3. We had already cataloged many of the local non-vertebrate species and had identified one nest building arthropod species of particular concern.”
“The Too-many-legs-why-does-it-need-that-many-legs-nothing-with-wings-needs-that-many-legs species,” Council Leader Fourth Flap confirmed looking over his notes. “You might want to suggest the human with naming rights shorten that.”
“Yes, yes,” Commander Fourteenth Trill responded with an agitated little side hop, “as the breeze takes the flight. We had been fling from sun up to sun down for days and we all needed a rest, but you know how robust humans are.”
“The report says that the lead human Ranger, ‘took a few hours of napping and then got up to amuse himself’,” Council Leader Fourth Flap read.
“Yes,” Commander Fourteenth Trill agreed. “He was alone for hours-”
“And why was that allowed?” Council Leader Fourth Flap demanded.
“Humans need alone time!” Commander Fourteenth Trill snarled, his fur bristling defensively. “They aren’t like us! If you don’t give them time without the stimulation of friendly presence they go all wobbly mentally!”
“Very well,” Council Leader Fourth Flap said soothingly. “I accept your explanation. Now go on.”
Commander Fourteenth Trill looked like he wanted to give a few more flaps to defend his choice of leaving the human alone but he merely shook out his joints.
“We were all, the rest of the camp, Winged and human, were either napping or grooming ourselves when he came running back towards the camp bellowing out a pain warning. There was a flight – a swarm really – of the leggy things flying after him. He made it through the containment field into the decontamination area, but not before they had severely bitten the exposed areas on his hands and neck.”
Commander Fourteenth Trill gave a fully body shiver at the memory.
“I have been told that humans bleed quite freely from head lacerations,” Council Leader Fourth Flap observed.
“They do,” Commander Fourteenth Trill said in a hollow tone. “The medical flight went out to tend him. It took them hours to clean the blood out of their fur after, but they got the bleeding stopped. All while the leggy things were throwing themselves against the containment field again and again.”
Commander Fourteenth Trill paused and seemed to be debating if he should add something.
“It turns out the leggy things have some sort of collective memory,” he said. “While they responded to none of the other humans, the lead Ranger was never able to go outside of the containment field again without being attacked by whatever hive of leggy things was in the area, and they are everywhere in that region.”
“Very interesting, but not relevant,” Council Leader Fourth Flap agreed. “Now, what was the human’s justification of his actions?”
“He said he just happened to have the perfect throwing rock in his pocket,” Commander Fourteenth Trill said, “and the leggy thing nest was at the perfect target height, just ‘a humming and a buzzing like the wasps nests back home’.”
“And that was incentive enough for him to, ‘chuck a rock’ at it,” Council Leader Fourth Flap observed, examining the report.
“Yes!” Commander Fourteenth Trill exploded. “And that is why I feel it would be a perfectly ordinate response to make a regulation specifically forbidding ‘chucking rocks’ and inoffensive arthropod nests!”
Council Leader Fourth Flap gave a thoughtful hum and sifted through the papers in front of him.
“I will consider your argument,” he agreed. “Please leave my office.”
Commander Fourteenth Trill looked like he was ready to continue his presentation for the rest of the day but visibly bit back his next round of arguments and flew off with a huff. Council Leader Fourth Flap stared down at the image of the bandaged human. Surely, this had been just the impulse of the moment on an under-stimulated Ranger, he mused. How reasonable would it be to assume, how offensive would it be to propose, a new regulation that implied that the average human didn’t know not to ‘chuck rocks’ at the hives of known dangerous insects?
Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh

Humans are Weird – Pulse

Humans are Weird – Pulse First Sister trotted along the forest path, kicking up the leaves that had fallen in the recent storm, feeling the damp soil on her toes. She stretched her neck frill out carefully, feeling the stretch of healing membrane. She would still have to avoid going out from under the canopy for several days, but there was no danger of any membrane ruptures today. She shifted the satchel on her shoulder and increased her pace, enjoying the feel of the rich forest air flowing through her spiracles. The soft, orange lights of the human hive glowed through the branches and filled her with that warm delight you got when you approached a friendly hive. Inside would be warmth, friendship, and food: even if those walls were thin wood.
First sister rounded a curve in the path and saw that Second Mother was out on the porch sitting in one of the broad, chunky human couches. From the way the human had folded her limbs under the blanket that covered her she was nursing Second Cousin Betty’s newest brother. This would be the fourth brother born to the local human hives First Sister thought: which seemed quite overdoing their blessings, even when First Sister knew that humans had almost fifth-fifty sexual reproduction rates.
Human Second Mother lifted her head away from where she was presumably smiling down at her little one, and lifted her free hand in greeting. Or rather lifted the hand that was holding her insulated cup of liquid stimulant. It steamed into the cool morning air and gave off scents of tannin and sugars.
“Greetings Human Second Mother,” First Sister greeted her. “First Father has sent me to borrow some processed sugar. He asks for your lowest quality as it is only for some vineyard plants in deep shade.”
Human Second Mother beamed at her, filing the air with a wash of strong pheromones. The alien chemicals weren’t exactly like Shatar social signals, but they were close enough that First Sister felt her frill flush hot with annoyance. She was not a fresh hatchling to be clicked over by the Uncles, but she smoothed out her frill, ignoring the sting from healing membranes. Human Mothers spent longer in the stage where everyone looked like a precious hatchling to them: it wouldn’t do to get snippy about it.
“Well Betty should be up and able to show where the really processed stuff is,” Human Second Mother said, adjusting the blanket covering her child.
The human’s thick arm appeared and First Sister stopped suddenly and peered at the mass of muscle exposed by the short-sleeved shirt the human wore. The Shatar then glanced up at the human’s ear, and then flared out her fill and antenna listening carefully. The human took a sip from her drink and raised her eyebrows, the equivalent of curling one antenna and tilting her head.
“Did you recently get new audio-media technology Human Second Mother?” First Sister Asked in response to the kinesthetic comment.
Human Second Mother’s face smoothed out in a show of mild perplexity.
“No,” the human said slowly, “and what makes you think I did?”
“From they way your ‘bicep’ is dancing I assumed you were listening to music,” First Sister said, shifting her satchel.
Human Second Mother blinked at her, before glancing down at the muscle group on the arm supporting her hatchling with a frown. She made a surprised sound, a quick outburst of air and took another sip of her drink.
“It does look like it’s dancing,” she admitted, “but nope, no music. I’m not doing that on purpose, no control over it really. Just a little potassium deficiency I guess. Better eat some banana chips.”
The human calmly took another sip of her drink and directed her eyes back to the forest, signaling that the conversation was over. First Sister didn’t bother trying to keep her frill from flaring up. The tiny human brother gave a disgruntled sound and Human Second Mother set her drink down to focus on him. First Sister eased herself sideways towards the door where, presumably, Human Second Cousin Betty would be able to give her the sugar she had came for, and, hopefully, explain why Human Second Mother was so non-pulsed by a group of voluntary muscles moving of their own accord.
Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten

Humans are Weird – Bad Vibrations

 Humans are Weird – Bad Vibrations  “And this bud is still drifts in the area of health you say?” Rollsunexpectedly asked as she adjusted the fluid administration container to a better angle for the very small human.
“You betcha!” Human Friend Prita called out, the sound of her voice muffled and distorted by the confines of the food storage space she was currently reorganizing. “Sure Little Diya is on the smaller side, or ‘bottom percentile’ as the doctor says, but the smaller size of healthy is still healthy! Feel that grip on her!”
“Indeed,” Rollsunexpectedly agreed as Little Diya shifted and grasped her appendages more firmly.
The immature human had just barely reached the stage where her immune system was beginning to be active and therefore, when her parents felt comfortable socializing her. She was very tiny for a human, her full length being barely two-thirds of Rollsunexpetedly’s relaxed land-lenght.
This was, Rollesunexpectedly mused as she snuggled the little human closer, perhaps the perfect time to hold a human. Her round little arms were almost exactly the thickness of an Undulate appendage, as were the majority of the lengths of her legs. When Little Diya wasn’t waving her limbs in adorable nonsense, she gripped one with almost Undulate strength. On top of all of that, humans were much more relaxed about their clothing social norms with the infant form of their species, and Little Diya’s stripes were on nearly full display, only the fluid absorbent cloth at her main joint hiding them.
At the moment Little Diya’s striped body was pulsing with the contented glow of complete satisfaction. Something Rollsunexpctedly had never seen in any of the older humans, and in addition to the contented squeezing she was making soft wooshing noises as the air flowed in and out of her nose in sympathetic rhythm with the sucking of fluid.
“She sounds rather like an old tidepool pump,” Rollsunexpectedly commented out loud.
Human Friend Prita laughed and the infant twitched at the sound, slowing blinked one eye open and then closed it again. The fluid administration container reached the end of its capacity and Little Diya released it from her suction with a contented wriggle.
“She is done,” Rollsunexpectedly stated, setting the fluid administration container to the side.
Human Friend Prita poked her head over the side of one storage space rood and peered at them.
“Is she waking?” the human asked.
“Her eyes are closed and her heart rate is low,” Rollsunexpectedly observed.
“That’s grand,” Human Friend Prita observed with a contented nod. “You can keep cuddling if you want, or you can set her back in the sleeper.”
“I will continue the snuggle,” Rollsunexpectedly informed her, carefully shifting her appendages from the posture necessary for feeding an infant that seemed made of fragile internal sacks, whose fluid dynamics must be considered at all times, to the more comfortable and fun posture for snuggling an Undulate sized friend.
They lay there for several long minutes, the tiny human gently expanding and contracting with her atmosphere exchange and giving off equally delicious warmth and pheromone clouds while her mother bustled around their dwelling structure. Rollsunexpectedly was about to comment on how good the baby tasted when something caught her attention. The slow, rhythmic pattern of the child’s breathing had changed. Instead of the smooth rise and fall of inspiration and exhalation the air was juttering in and out of the tiny human, every so softly, but causing the little body to vibrate, like a tidepool pump that had experienced an air bubble.
“Human Friend Prita!” Rollsunexpectedly called out. “I think there is fluid in Little Diya’s lungs!”
The larger human was out of the cabinet in a moment and across the room to swift arcs of movement.
“I feel her vibrating in an unusual way,” Rollsunexpectedly explaned.
Human Friend Prita dropped the flat surface on one hand down on the infant human’s dorsal side and grew still, feeling the movement rhythms of the little one. Gradually the larger human relaxed and released a great sigh of air.
“You are right,” Human Friend Prita said with a smile. “It feels like she got a little urp-up down the wrong tube. Just hold her, let’s see, face down, at a forty-five against gravity and it should clear. Just let me know if it doesn’t.”
Rollsunexpectedly obediently rotated the tiny human, being mindful to change the angle of the limbs relative to the main trunk as little as possible. They were oddly sensitive to such things when the goal was ‘sleep’. In order to manage the instructions Rollsunexpectedly braced her gripping end against the wall behind her and let gravity pull Little Diya down against her mass. The infant human shifted, gave a soft, gurgling coo, and relaxed into her. Just as Human Friend Prita had predicted the odd juttering of Little Diya’s breath decreased and then ceased. The warm air of the infant’s breath washed over Rollsunexpectedly and her tiny hands reformed their grip on the Undulates’ appendages. From the other side of the room Human Friend Prita gave a human hand gesture meaning victory or approval and went back to cleaning.
Rollsunexptecedly had been basing in the comfort of the now improved snuggle for several minutes before a serious strand of though drifted over her appendages. Too much liquid in human lungs was dangerous, that is at least what all the training material said. Their membranes simply could not extract enough gasses from most fluids at standard temperature and pressure. Yet Human Friend Prita had, while responding promptly, treated the incident with calm attention rather than frantic fear. Rollsunexpectedly knew that humans would adapt dangerously casual responses to even to life threatening stimulus if they experienced it frequently enough. She had to wonder, did infant human really expose themselves to danger frequently enough to deaden the fear response in their parents? Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten

Humans are Weird – Eyes

 Humans are Weird – Eyes  Pokesinholes pointedly ignored the vibrations of the pacing human and gave one final luxurious stretch of every single appendage in the flowing water. The taste was of course alien, on could hardly expect stream water on an alien world to taste entirely pleasant the first time one experienced it. Some of the flavors of local wildlife were simply too extreme. Then there was the odd oxidized flavor that the upstream force field and physical grating created. However after months of only tasting stale, deionized water any naturally flowing stream was a luxury of stimulation.
His delicious bath was cut short however as the water sloshed with the entrance of the human and two jointed appendages reaching down and grappling with him. Pokesinholes made a wordless sound of protest and smoothed out his upper side in an attempt to deny the short fingers of the interfering human a grip. However the human had already gotten ahold of him. Pokesinholes grabbed at the bed of the stream, and was still clutching the rock he had gripped when the human hauled him out of the water.
The human was of course talking, filling the thin atmosphere with waves of meaning, and Pokesinholes did of course understand the sound language. However his comprehension was just weak enough to allow for plausible deniability, especially under stressful circumstances, and there was no doubt this human was stressed. That was the confusing part.
Of course new worlds were dangerous. The raw ignorance every Ranger Survey team brought to each mission was not rarely fatal, even when the teams consisted of the sturdiest of the sapient species. With an Undulates resistance to microfauna and humans resistance to megafauna there were few biotic factors that could incapacitate their team. That of course left all the abotic factors that could kill them, but this landing site was comfortably warm, free from volcanic activity, far from dangerously deep water, and ironically stable. There was no reason to rush back to the safety of the ground structures as soon as the local star dipped low enough to limit mammalian vision.
They passed through the airlock into the main living area and the human dropped Pokesinholes unceremoniously on a raised work surface before lumbering over to a corner, presumably to exchange layers of outerwear.
“May I request what that was around?” Pokesinholes demanded when the human’s searching had turned from the clothing storage area to the food storage area.
Pokesinholes was certain there were errors in the question but the human seemed to understand.
“Sundown’s half an hour ago,” the human said as he mixed various fluids together. “It’s time to be inside.”
“We agreed that safety was within the exterior barrier,” Pokesinholes argued. “I wish to be submerged on fresh atmosphere.”
“That was before I saw what I saw outside the perimeter,” the human stated.
He took a drink of the liquid mix he had made and then pulled his projectile weapon off of its wall mount and began taking it apart. Pokesinholes waited for the human to continue his explanation but none came.
“What see did you...no...what did see you outside the perimeter?” Pokesinholes asked.
“The proximity alarms were humming earlier,” the human said without looking up from his work. “It was out where the spotlights don’t work so I took out the good handlight-”
“The light that is – that has many dangerous warnings for humans?” Pokesinholes asked.
“Yup,” the human agreed with a satisfied grunt, “sear your retinas off if you aren’t mindful. Anyway, I saw two points of light reflecting back at me, then they weren’t there.”
The human fell silent again as he checked over his weapon. Pokesinholes shuffled in annoyance and made a resolution to practice their shared language more as he struggled to formulate his question in sounds.
“What link reflecting light and bringing me inside?”
The human lifted his head and scowled at him.
“Eyes! Pokey! Those were eyes I saw!”
Pokesinholes gave up on words and simply set his appendages wide in a very obvious question stance. Fortunately the human understood enough Undulate to grasp his meaning.
“Predator eyes!” the human expanded, “only predator eyes reflect like that! And they were big ones.”
“Planet scans saw no large predators,” Pokesinholes replied.
“Well my scans showed me something with eye big enough to eat me,” the human said, “so we’re both staying inside until there’s enough light for my eyes to work.”
Pokesinholes slumped down and shuffled towards his room with its sterile water. He wasn’t really convinced of the human’s logic, but it was hard to find good counter pressure when your fellow Ranger centered an argument around organs you didn’t have.
Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten

Humans are Weird – Measure Thrice

​ Humans are Weird – Measure Thrice  Hopper gurgled happily to herself as she adjusted the awkward bundle of cloth on her back once more. She had spent hours washing the cloth by paw in traditionally made, plant based soaps. The grain oils that had originally dirtied the material had mostly washed out, leaving the pattern that Sally Mai had requested. The human had recently flung herself into a series of art projects with a drive that was almost frightening in its intensity. While Hopper was delighted to find a way to participate, she was coming today as much to check on Sally Mai’s mental state as to gift her the patterned cloth.
The gravel leading up to Sally Mai’s dwelling crunched pleasantly under Hopper’s paws as she neared. Usually this sound was enough to alert Sally Mai to the presence of a visitor but she had not come to the door by the time Hopper reached it. Hopper lifted up on her hind legs and thumped one paw on the frame of the door. Apparently the traditional greeting of slapping the door with one’s tail didn’t quite translate well in human communities. Something about their doors not being meant to take that kind of abuse.
Today the thumping was met with a mildly startling scream from within. A sound rather like steam escaping from a safety vent. Hopper clicked her teeth in amusement and opened the door. The front entryway was cluttered with torn open shipping containers strewn about in defiance of every known safety regulation. Hopper gingerly lifted the cloth she was bringing over several suspiciously wet looking substances and something that smelled of dead trees.
From a room deeper in the structure Sally Mai’s voice was ranting in that peculiar tone humans used when addressing inanimate objects that they felt had offended them with deliberate malice. Hopper came to a door hung with a bead curtain and poked her nose through. Sally Mai was fairly small for a human with her thin, delicate bone structure showing clearly under her soft skin. Her hair was deep, cave black but the oils that kept it smooth caught the sun and reflected iridescent glints. At the moment much of her hair was escaping the tight bun she kept it in while working and her forearm bones showed their shape clearly in her hands and wrists as she stretched a cloth oval in what was clearly a futile attempt to get it to fit over metal grid-frame.
“I measured!” Sally Mai was nearly screaming at the offending item. “Twice now I measured! Both of you why won’t you fit!”
The last word was accompanied by a tremendous strain at the material and another failure for the cloth to attach to the hooks on the grid-frame. Sally Mai gave an exasperated screech like soft metal rending and flung the circle of cloth into a corner to join several others.
“It looks like its time to sit down and have a nice chew,” Hopper suggested.
Sally Mai leapt comically up with a gasp and stared at her in shock. Hopper waved her tail in greeting as she adjusted the cloth she had brought.
“Let’s get some nice, tough small-loaves and-”
“That’s the sacking for me?” Sally Mai demanded, her bright, bi-focal eyes landing on Hopper’s burden.
“Yes,” Hopper agreed, unbuckling the carry harness and letting the material drop to the relatively clean floor in this room. “Now, you smell all kinds of flustered. Before you try cutting this for your project let’s just sit and ruminate over some good...you are not listening to a grain of my point, are you?”
Sally Mai had snatched up the cloth and was rolling out one end onto her cutting work bench.
“Yes, yes,” the human muttered absently. “We’ll have a good chew. Got some nice aged loaves just – gotta cut this. It’ll be right this time.”
“Now Sally Mai,” Hopper said, trying to make her tone gentle but firm to human hearing. “Do you really think cutting it again in this state of fermentation is going to get you what you want? Let’s go rest a bit-”
“I know what I did wrong last time!” Sally Mai insisted as she marked the cloth with trembling hands. “Just let me-”
What she wanted Hopper to let her do was cut off as the human shoved her marking tool into her mouth and grabbed her cutting tool with hands trembling with eagerness. The cutting tool made a pleasant zizzing sound as it parted the fibers and a neat circle fell out of the material onto the work bench. Sally Mai snatched it up and ran back to her grid-frame. It almost did look like it would fit this time, but as Sally Mai attempted to stretch the material the final few claw lengths the truth bubbled to the surface.
“No!” the human shrieked, this time flinging the grid-frame itself across the room with a loud clang. “I am an idiot!”
The human suddenly folded down into a rough egg shape and made hissing sounds through her teeth. Hopper walked over on her hind legs and gently rubbed between the human’s shoulder blades. The pattern of breathing Hopper could hear and the faint scent of saltwater suggested that Sally Mai was crying.
“I wasted nearly a yard of that cloth you got me,” the human muttered from the depth of her egg-shape.
“There is more than enough to try again,” Hopper soothed her.
“Why did I rush in like that?” Sally Mai demanded, letting her head rock back and her limbs sprawl out, knocking over a mug with small amounts her favorite morning stimulant still lingering in it. She brought her hand up to rub her eyes. “I needed to rest! To have a snack!”
It was a very good question, and they were distinctly good ideas, Hopper thought. Sally Mai stared at the clear ceiling that was letting in the specific amount of light she needed for her art, finally she sighed and gathered her limbs to stand up.
“Come on Hopper,” the human said as she used her toes to grab at a nearby rag and soak up the spilled remnants of the drink, “let’s go have a chew at some small-loaves and then I can come back to this project with a clear head and a steady hand.”
“Now that is a well fermented idea!” Hopper said. “So glad you thought of it!”
Sally Mai snorted and rapped her knuckles against Hopper’s head. Hopper clicked her teeth in amusement and used her tail to flick the latest failure over to the waste pile with the others. Why a human, with entire control of her own schedule refused to eat until it hindered her ability to work was a mystery beyond her, but she had seen the situation play out often enough that she found it far less worth pursuing than the promised small-loaves.




Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh

Three more votes to the top 50! Go Vote!

Three more votes to the top 50!
https://allauthor.com/cover-of-the-month/19711/


Go vote for “Hidden Fires” On All-Author! Only 3 more votes will get “Hidden Fires” into the next round for Book of the Month in July!

Humans are Weird - Smooth

Humans are Weird - Smooth Quilx’tch trembled to the tip of every paw with the pure audacity of what he was doing. Not only was he going to interrupt a colleague at work, he was calling another colleague from the next lab over to initiate the interruption for him. Taking a deep breath that expanded his abdomen Quilx’tch activated the comm unit.
“Yo, Psmith here,” came the deep, gruff voice.
“Chef Psmith?” Quilx’tch began. “I was wondering if you could perhaps come help me with that little difficulty we discussed?”
“Who’s this?” the voice demanded.
Quilx’tch paused in shock and a bit of offense. They had spent an entire meal break discussing the issue yesterday. However diplomatic protocol insisted on treating every question as in good faith.
“This is Quilx’tch-”
“Ah! Quick buddy!” the voice boomed. “This about your lab-mate with the issue?”
A silence long enough to almost be polite followed the interruption.
“Yes,” Quilx’tch replied into the slight sizzling sound in the background. “Human Friend Tupa is displaying the behavior again and it is threatening to delay the production of the ‘brownies’ and I am very eager to-”
“I’ll be down there in a jiffy,” the voice cut in. “Don’t tell Tupes I’m coming. I’mm’a try to observe without being noticed if you catch my drift.”
The comm unit cut off and Quilx’tch tapped his hind paw in irritation and confusion. That last clause suggested, no, stated that Chef Psmith had put some sort of implied action in the communication. However every stated objective seemed clear to Quilx’tch. Either Chef Psmith was implying something that had quite slipped through Quilx’tch’s net, or the giant human was preforming that human type humor that consisted in implying the presence of more complexity than was actually there. However the human was, as always, as good as his word, and appeared through the airlock doors within moments. Human Friend Tupa was at the far end of the test kitchen whisking the flour mix that certainly did not need further mixing. After several vigorous circles with the metal whisk the human took a deep breath, spun around, and marched firmly towards the open container of legume puree on the opposite counter. The human grabbed the container in one hand, picked up the flat, spreading knife with the other and glared down at the smooth surface of the puree. Then Human Friend Tupa hesitated, her face twisted as if in pain and she gingerly set the container back on the counter before darting over to check on the oils that were melting over a slight heat. Quilx’tch didn’t know the exact thermo-storage capacity of that particular oil but he was fairly certain it should have melted by now.
“Yeah, I see the problem,” Chef Psmith said with an exasperated grunt.
“What is the problem?” Quilx’tch asked as the larger human lumbered into the narrow cone of vision that Tupa had displayed.
The smaller human started and her skin flushed bright red.
“Chef,” she said. “The brownies are coming along.”
“That’s some nice smooth nut-butter,” Chef Psmith said snatching the container up, his long fingers warping almost entirely around the container.
Human Friend Tupa flushed an even brighter red and bent over the very much melted oil.
“Yes,” she agreed in a small voice.
Chef Psmith picked up the spreading knife with a snort and shoved it into the container, gave it a few quick turns, disturbing the smooth surface of the puree, and slammed it down on the counter beside Human Friend Tupa. She glanced at the container and snatched it up with a happy sound.
“Thank you!” she called out as she began adding the puree to the brownie mix with almost reckless abandon.
Chef Psmith gave a dismissive wave over his shoulder as he stomped out of the room. Quilx’tch watched in fascination as Human Friend Tupa now happily darted about preparing to put the brownies in the oven. Suddenly his comm unit chimed.
“Hey Quick?” Chef Psmith’s voice came over the unit in an oddly subdued tone. “Do me a favor and don’t mention this to anyone else until I can talk to Tupa privately and maybe get her to talk to the base psychologist.”
“Oh dear,” Quilx’tch said, watching Human Friend Tupa hurry about her tasks. “Was she displaying medically relevant behavior?”
“Eh, not so much,” Chef Psmith said. “I mean, I ain’t got the quals to say one way up or down. But she just wasted two days because she didn’t want to disturb a perfectly smooth nut-butter.”
“And that is and odd impulse for a trained chef,” Quilx’tch observed.
“Not by half!” Chef Psmith said with a dismissive snort. “A nice perfect machine pour like that? Shame to disrupt it. Silly as string of course, but a perfectly natural impulse. But if you let that impulse interfere with cooking, well butter in the freezer as they say.”
Chef Psmith ended the conversation and Human Friend Tupa called Quilx’tch over with happy eagerness in her voice to taste the brownie batter before she put it in the oven. Quilx’tch waved to signal he had heard and trotted over the raised spider-walk as he mulled over Chef Psmith’s words. Putting aside his growing suspicion that Chef Psmith deliberately made up sayings to confuse him, the concept that humans would place value on a flat, machine produced surface, one made not for purpose but merely as the inadvertent behavior of semi-liquid flow, was more than enough to keep his mental paws busy.

Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh

Humans are Weird - Family

Humans are Weird - Family Carbon rich particulate matter drifted down through the hot summer air and came to rest on the decaying leaves of last year’s autumn. Most of the organic matter had long since decomposed into the soil but here, deep withing the local wild-wood Notes the Passing Changes had piled up native composting heap. This allowed for thought processes untainted by the microfauna inevitably shed by the sapient alien species that visited or lived on this world. Notes the Passing Changes idly tasted the falling particles for traces of harmful metals. The humans had been very mindful of their celebratory atmospheric explosives ever since Notes the Passing Changes had requested the local Shatar address the matter. This summer there had been no toxic metals in the mix as yet, but it still behooved one to be watchful. Outside of the thickets protecting this place the ground vibrated with humans herding to and from the local streams to splash in the cool waters and set off ground based incendiary devices in the safety of the liquid covered areas.
Suddenly the pattern changed as the disturbance caused by one human broke from the designated path and began thrashing its way through the undergrowth directly towards Notes the Passing Changes’s decomposition pile. Notes the Passing Changes eased awareness from the trees’ vision to the forefront and examined the situational memory. This particular human, a male just having passed from childhood into a legal state of adulthood, had just been swimming in a deeper section of a stream with a cohort of humans of similar or lesser age. He had been by all appearances engaging in cheerful social interaction with them until just moments ago when he had climbed out of the water and began walking back towards the main human settlement along one of the forest paths. It appeared that a group of senior humans had been coming down that path in the opposite direction and the lone human youth had paused and leapt sideways into the woods. Now he was writhing his way through the tangle of protective branches Notes the Passing Changes had carefully ringed this composting area with, resulting in no few tears to his mammalian outer membrane.
Notes the Passing Changes stimulated the immune defenses of the composting heap to immediately destroy any blood and micorbiome the human shed. Shortly the human burst through the protective layer, no small feat Notes the Passing Changes mused. The weave of woody branches should have been too dense for a mature human to get through suggesting greater than species standard flexibility and strength in this individual. The human staggered into the clearing, glanced around, his bifocal vision lighting on the marks Notes the Passing Changes had left to mark the place. The human gave a relieved laugh, staggered forward into the piled leaves and very deliberately let his mass tumble backwards into them.
“Gathering! Hide me!” the human called out.
Somewhat bemused Notes the Passing Changes lifted up a portion of the dead leaves and dropped it over the reclined human. Covered with the dry biomatter the human instantly fell very still. His heart-rate and breathing slowed and his stress pheromones dispersed into the hot air. Notes the Passing Changes carefully directed the decomposition mites too small to be observed by the human to defend the micro-ecosystem around him. Eventually Notes the Passing Changes realized the human was beginning to fall asleep and spoke to the noise of the human’s biorhythms.
“The humans you were trying to avoid have reached the swimming hole and no more are currently coming,” Notes the Passing Changes observed.
The human started, disturbing the defensive line of mites and gave a startled grunt.
“Wh-oh yeah,” the human said. “Thanks, but if you don’t mind. I’ll just hang out here. Nap time and all that.”
“It would be more convenient for my micro-fauna if you sought nap time elsewhere in the forest,” Notes the Passing Changes said. “I can direct you along paths that will not cross vectors with other humans if that is what you wish.”
“Seriously?” The human responded. “Can’t I just chill here? I got torn right up getting in here.”
Notes the Passing Changes deliberately pulled the covering leaves off of the human and bent back the tangle of protective branches forming a path out of the composting area. The human groaned and heaved his mass onto his two legs before lumbering off down the path Notes the Passing Changes had made. Notes the Passing Changes followed him with voice.
“Did you have an altercation with someone in the group of elder humans?”
The human glanced over at the tree that was the source of sound and gave a wry smile.
“Nah, it’s just I’ve already had too much of kin today, you ken’ how it is,” the human said with a shrug.
“I do not,” Notes the Passing Changes assured him.
The human rubbed his hands through his hair the color of autumn leaves and gave a soft laugh.
“When you get round all the cousins and aunties and uncles you got to talk, and that’s fun at first, and smile at the aunties, and tell them how tall you are, and you got to look the uncles in the eye and shake their hands so they can see how much a man you are, and you got to remember which cousin’s dog just died and whose girl just left him for some spacer with a fancy ship and its all fine at first but then the noise and the eyes and the smiles just-” the human staggered to a stop and his eyes visibly unfocused before he shuddered, wiped his hands on his bare thighs and kept walking.
“It just gets to be too much,” the human went on, “and if you have to smile at one more Aunty who remember you when you weren’t have so high as a thistle you are gonna just scream, and it’s best to hide before that happens. You ken.”
“I understand you wish isolation and a place to mentally compost,” Notes the Passing Changes agreed. “While you cannot do that in my composting place I do think I know a more comfortable place for you.”
“That’s grand,” the human replied.
Notes the Passing Changes led the human through the forest, bending back undergrowth to provide an isolated path. At the edge of one of the mixed orchards several humans had spread a layer of fine dried grass to both dispose of the biomatter and feed the trees that would be providing nutrients much later in the season. At the moment no sapients came to the area and the atmosphere was warm and still. The human made an appreciative sound as he entered the space and dropped to the soft surface.
“You’re a grand one Gathering,” the human said as he snuggled down into the fine grass. “Mind covering me up like before?”
Notes the Passing Changes did not have nearly as many motile tendrils in this mass but managed to toss some matter over the now sleeping humans. The question of if this human remembered names well occurred to the Gathering, and if that deficiency added to the human’s obvious unease in prolonged social situations, but that seemed a matter for another time.  
Author Betty Adams Books
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble
Veoh