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marlynnofmany · 5 months

Text

Not Special

The refueling station was on a small moon in the back end of nowhere, close to nothing but a couple of wormhole junctions. Since it had a little convenience store and everything, it really gave off “7/11 next to a desert highway” vibes. Just, y’know, in space. The moon wasn’t big enough for proper gravity or air on its own, so someone had installed a gravity generator under the dusty red ground. And turned it up just a smidge too high, but I wasn’t going to complain.

I was going to buy pre-packaged alien snacks at the store while my coworkers handed the refueling. Mimi was calling the shots, tentacles waving and gravelly voice audible from here, while the Frillian twins handled the heavy lifting of connector hoses and Captain Sunlight was at the payment kiosk. The others were either staying onboard or already browsing the aisles.

I’d just picked up a pack of something colorful (doing an artful fumble-and-recovery because of the gravity) when a rowdy group of Armorlites trooped in. I didn’t pay them too much attention — just a bunch of macho dinosaurs with holstered blasters and bipedal swagger; totally normal here — but one of them said something that brought me up short.

“Hey look, another human,” said the cheerful voice. “Maybe you can get some tips on how not to be such a disappointment.” Raucous laughter followed.

I frowned in their direction and saw that they did have a human with them: a pale and unassuming guy just a bit shorter and stockier than me. He looked annoyed by the comment, but not surprised.

When he walked over to me, I asked, “What’s that about?” The Armorlites were already ignoring him.

The guy sighed. “They heard a lot of stories about humans before they hired me, and I don’t meet their expectations.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Humans doing daring things, like running for hours to get medicine to dying people, catching a diseased rat before it infected an entire space station, throwing fruit at charging fauna hard enough to make it leave…” He ticked things off on his fingers. “Exorcizing a ghost, and riding a hoversled like a skateboard fast enough to catch a bomb before it blew up. How am I supposed to compete with that?” He threw his hands in the air.

“Um,” I said, putting down the snack I was still holding. “Would it make it better or worse to know those were all the same person?”

“What?”

“The rat wasn’t actually diseased, the ghost was a howling dog, and I didn’t know the thing was explosive when I rushed to catch it,” I said. “And I wasn’t the only person throwing things at the fauna.”

“What?” he repeated, with a spread-arms gesture that smacked into the shelf. Rubbing his hand, he asked, “That was all you?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Unless there are other humans doing the same things, which is possible.”

He raked fingers through his hair, setting it at odd angles. “I can’t believe this. I’d tell them, but they’d just want to hire you instead.”

I rushed to assure him, “I’ve got a job already, and I don’t want to take yours.” I glanced over at the Armorlites, who were grabbing food and accessories. One clicked a flashlight on in another’s face, prompting curses from him and laughter from the others. That tracked from what I’d seen of Armorlite culture before. Toughness was important. Kindness, not so much. “What do you do for them?”

He sighed again. “Bookkeeping, officially. They needed somebody to handle the boring stuff like money and permits while they focus on hunting the biggest animals they can sell.”

“Gotcha. That sounds … exciting.”

“It’s not. It’s like going on a trip with my cousins again, except they’re even bigger and make fun of me for not having claws.”

“You’ve got other stuff going for you, though!” I said. “We just need to figure which of your differences they’ll respect most.”

“I’m all ears,” he said with a certain level of sarcasm. “Please tell me what about my fragile human physique will get me respect from the Mighty.”

Oh right, they did call themselves that. I’d almost forgotten. At least they were a straightforward species without a lot of mysterious depths.

“Well,” I said, thinking. “They like fighting. You’re more suited to stealth than they are, small enough to hide and do sneak attacks that they wouldn’t see coming. What if you introduced them to rubber band warfare, and sniped from hidden parts of the ship?”

“Nope,” he said. “That would just end with me cornered somewhere, and them showing off how even thin scales are tougher than my skin.”

“Good point. Oh! What kind of animals do they hunt? You said big ones, but do you know the specific names?” I got out my phone and brought up the database of known fauna that I’d talked Captain Sunlight into buying for me. As her own hired animal expert, it was really the kind of thing that I should have. My vet training on Earth only went so far.

“Uhhh, I think the last one was a treehorn,” he said. “Wait, they talked about going for Argoshan Dagger Birds next.”

“Right. Now what kind of noises do those make��” I typed quickly. Big creatures indeed, by the looks of it: Dagger Birds had prevented more than one colony from getting a foothold in the wilds of a nearby world, and were unlikely to stop being a threat anytime soon. I skimmed the rundown for the vocal files. “Here we go. Mating call.” Keeping the sound low enough for just us to hear, I played the croaking warble.

“Okay?” the guy said, confused.

“Can you imitate that?” I asked. “Give it a shot. Kinda like a frog. Woarrrk.”

Looking skeptical, he did. The expression on his face said he wasn’t impressed with his own efforts, but it sounded accurate enough to me.

“Great!” I said. “Give that a bit of practice, then you can go out with your crew and impress everybody by luring in some targets for them.”

“I could,” he said thoughtfully. “I usually stay on the ship while they’re hunting, but it might be worth a try. Can I have a copy of that sound for practice?”

He got out his own phone and I played it again so he could record it. The Armorlites were dumping things onto the front counter, ready to pay and leave. I caught sight of bright packaging that I recognized, and I had another idea.

“Thanks,” the guy said. “This might actually help. What was your name?”

“Robin Bennett,” I said with a belated handshake.

“Oscar Tennyson,” he replied. “Thanks for your help. Looks like I should grab my stuff and get going.”

“Before you go. See those tall cans with the purple labels?” I pointed at something the Armorlites were buying.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever tried that?”

“No! They get wasted on it; I’ve steered far clear.”

I grinned with all my teeth. “That’s not alcohol. That’s caffeine.”

“What?”

“Humans can process caffeine better than most species on our own planet, and just about everybody in space. It’s a poison to most. It gets them super drunk, but for you—” I pointed at him with glee. “For you, it’s just a bit of energy. Pick your moment, then walk in casually while they’re getting wasted, and slam one down. See what happens.”

He was smiling now. “You’re sure? It’s really just caffeine? How much?”

“I checked into it before. One of those huge cans is like a watered-down coffee. These guys are absolute lightweights, and they don’t even know.”

He grinned to split his face. “That is the best news.”

One of them called for him to hurry up, and he bid me a quick goodbye before scampering off. I saw him grab food cubes, water, and a six-pack of caffeine, which he bundled onto the counter as the Armorlites headed out the door.

“Be right there! Just getting some stuff!”

They didn’t look, simply telling him not to waste any time. He smiled his way through the purchase.

Peeking over the shelves, I smiled too. Then I went back to my own purchases, with thoughts of getting an energy drink or two in his honor.

~~~

These started as backstory tidbits for the main character from this book, and turned into a sprawling adventure series in their own right. The sequel book will feature a return of some familiar faces. And Patreon is coming soon — even the free tier will be a handy way to keep up with the ongoing shenanigans of this particular human in space.

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #writeblr #writblr #very excited about the Patreon you guys #that free tier didn't use to be an option #but for anyone who'd like to catch the new story each time one goes up #that's the place to go #the higher tiers have additional cool things #more details to come

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marlynnofmany · 5 months

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Loud Darkness

“Before you go,” said Captain Sunlight, stopping us at the open door. “The client sent a last-minute warning.”

“Oh boy.” I gripped the small delivery package a little tighter, braced for bad news.

Zhee was less tactful. “Those are never good,” he said, waving a pincher arm about. The package he was carrying was strapped to his bug-alien back, so his pinchers were free to gesture with. “Is this a hazard that they should have mentioned up front? Something we might have charged extra for?”

“Possibly. Hopefully not.” Captain Sunlight didn’t have eyebrows exactly, but her scaly browridges were frowning anyway. “If anything seems hazardous and you feel like you should return to the ship, please do. The client hasn’t answered any of my messages for further details. All we know is that this continent has something called ‘screamers,’ which come out at sunset, and are dangerously loud. The warning was not to get close to them if you can help it.”

“Screamers,” I repeated. “And they didn’t think to explain that a little?”

Zhee waved his pinchers some more, hissing in irritation. I stepped aside so I didn’t get whacked in the head. Captain Sunlight didn’t bother, since she was too short to be in range.

“No, they didn’t explain it,” Captain Sunlight said. “And there isn’t a settlement nearby to ask, other than this little camp site or whatever it is. I didn’t ask why the client is out here, but I got the impression they’re on some science mission. I could be wrong. They could be just enjoying nature, or on the run from their own planet’s law enforcement. Who knows.” She sighed, looking out the door at the alien forest. “It’s not our business, until it is. Try not to get hurt while delivering the shipment.”

“Should we bring anything for protection?” I asked, pulling the flashlight from my pocket. “This isn’t going to do much good if the things bite when they feel threatened. Or is it just an eardrum risk?”

While Zhee muttered “eardrum” like someone with alien ears who was encountering the term for the first time, Captain Sunlight shook her head. “The warning just said not to get close, because they’re loud. It didn’t sound like a physical danger. And it’s only around sunset. Unfortunately.”

“Sunset!” Zhee exclaimed. “Of course! The exact time the client wanted to meet us! They really could have mentioned this screaming before now.”

I peered out the door to see how dense the trees were. As promised, there was a path made of flat rocks, but the plantlife loomed over it. Shadows were already dark among them. “And they really couldn’t meet us out here?”

“They paid extra for the delivery away from the landing pad, at least,” Captain Sunlight said. “They were specific about the location as well as the time. You’d better be going.”

Zhee stepped onto the ramp. “What a delightful trip this will be. If anything screams at me, it had better be prepared to face my blades.” He brandished his pinchers as he stalked down onto the landing pad.

“Thanks for the warning,” I said to the captain, then followed.

“Be careful. Kavlae will be waiting at the comms in case you need to call for any reason.”

“Got it.” I waved goodbye and caught up with Zhee while the ramp retracted behind us. With our boxes ready and our wits about us, we followed the path into the darkening woods.

I’d thought I wouldn’t need my flashlight until the walk back, but it was worryingly dark under those trees. I lit up the ground and shifted the box to one arm, glad that I had the smaller case. Zhee had a different model of light strapped to his hip. He poked it with a pincher-tip, and it lit the way nicely, with no further pincher action required. He waved them threateningly instead.

I passed my own light over the bushes, searching for threats, while the ground remained bright enough not to trip. Of the two of us, I was the only one who needed to worry about that. I made sure to keep an eye out for troublesome rocks that could lead to injury, embarrassment, and damage to the package. (Mostly embarrassment. Zhee had strong opinions about the evolutionary wisdom of multiple legs.)

Despite all the lovely things we had to think about, the walk was pretty boring. Shadowy alien trees, too dark to see many interesting details. Rocks on the ground. An impressively straight pathway. No animals moving around that we could detect.

But something had started making noise. A faint one at first, far ahead of us, a kind of vague static that was hard to pin down. I looked at Zhee to see if he’d heard it. His expression was hard to read.

It got louder as we walked, and I could almost make out distinct sounds among the overall wash of noise. Chattering? Short screeches? I didn’t like it. And it didn’t help that things were very dark now, with only the occasional glimpse of colorful sunset through the trees.

“What do you think it is?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Zhee said in annoyance. “But it is offensive.”

Not the word I’d been expecting. “Like it offends your sense of hearing, or offends you on a personal level?”

Zhee snapped his pinchers. “It sounds like skreeking. Very badly done, by misbehaving children.”

“Sk—? Oh, that leg-music you guys do. Right.” I hadn’t heard Zhee himself perform any traditional Mesmer tunes, but the whole ship had heard Trrili’s efforts. They were, well … Yeah okay, they were horrible. At least as far as my human ears were concerned. And now that I thought about it, I could kind of pick out individual threads of sound that seemed insectlike.

While I was thinking all that, Zhee complained heartily. “It is clearly not actual children, misbehaving or otherwise, but it has the poor taste to sound like it is, when it could sound like anything else. Like it’s trying to be as aggravating as possible.”

“Reminds me of a parrot I used to know,” I said, shining the flashlight around for any sign of the noisemakers. “He could have sounded like anything too, but his favorite noise to make was the sound of someone chewing with their mouth open.”

“Yes yes, I’ve heard of those creatures from your world,” Zhee said. “Freakish specimens.”

“It’s not just the one type of bird that can do that,” I told him. “There are a bunch of mimics. Mockingbirds, lyrebirds, starlings, even ravens — and that’s just the birds!”

“Yes yes. Fascinating.” He didn’t sound like he cared, but it was a distraction from the increasing volume of the whatever-they-were, so I continued.

“There are other animals that can make a couple humanlike sounds too. Like goats; the little ones are called kids because they sound like our own little ones sometimes. And a few of the adults can scream like a human, which is both startling and funny.”

“I’m sure.”

“Oh, and mountain lions too. They’ve been known to sound like adult humans, baby humans, and little chirping birds. Rumor says they’ve used that as a way to lure in prey more than a few times over the eons.”

Zhee tilted his head toward me at that sharp praying-mantis angle. “Impressive,” was all he said.

“That’s one word for it.”

“But this is not impressive. This I hate. We’d better be there soon.”

“I think it’s getting brighter up there.” I aimed my light to the side, squinting as if that would do any good. It did seem less shadowy, but more like the trees opened up, not like anyone had technology running.

Zhee walked faster. I walked faster. The mysterious screamers screamed louder. It was an oppressive drone now, vibrating the air on all sides like I was near the speakers at a concert. A really bad concert. Where the singers were bugs.

“It sounds kind of like cicadas!” I said, raising my voice enough to be heard. “They only come out every seventeen years where I’m from. It’s quite an experience. Once a generation, the summer is full of bugs that scream, mate, and die all over the place.”

Zhee gave me another sharp look. “And how does human culture regard this skreeking-like orchestra? I imagine early societies worshipped or feared them.”

I shrugged, adjusting my grip on the box. “Probably? Sorry to say most people consider them an annoyance now. Kind of interesting scientifically, but obnoxious to clean off your car. Oh, and they’re edible. But not if you’re allergic to seafood.”

The expression on his face now was a complicated dance of antennae and mandibles, which I chose to interpret as vaguely horrified.

But before he could come up with an answer, a voice called out from the clearing ahead.

“Hello hello! Are you the delivery people?”

I aimed my flashlight, hoping to light up feet instead of a face. Never good to blind the client. “Yes, we have your packages!” I could just make out a two-legged shape, and judging by the shape of the head, I was pretty sure she was a Frillian with large head fins.

“Great! Set them right over here! I’ve got my ID somewhere.” She dashed off into the droning darkness, making sounds of rummaging around that I could barely hear.

When we reached the clearing, we found a very thin Frillian wearing clothes with pockets everywhere, head fins just as large as they’d seemed, and the exuberant attitude of a scientist who’s getting to study something they’ve waited for.

“Thanks! Right there, yes. I suppose I could stand to turn on a light or two, but that might scare them away. Sign here? Got it. There you go. Thanks so much! I can’t wait to see how these work.”

Zhee and I stepped politely back while the client tore open the smallest box, where it was set on a table covered in miscellaneous equipment. She pulled out something that looked kind of like a medical scanner. It lit up with red light and some beeps that might have been piercing under other circumstances.

“Oh, it even comes charged! Excellent! Now show me what you’ve got…” She ran over to a bush and passed the scanner slowly through the air, for all the world like she was diagnosing the plant with something terminal.

The scanner probably beeped, but I couldn’t hear it from here. She ran back in excitement and opened the other box.

Those I did recognize: a surprising number of gravity wands, of a high-precision model. I had a theory what she was going to use them for.

Zhee did too. “Will you be catching the screamers, then?” he asked. “Studying how they make their obnoxious sound? Perhaps ready to teach them to make a better one?”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “Screamers are delicious. I have so many people waiting to buy them back home, but only as long as I get the ones that have already finished with egg-laying! Sustainable, you know?” She brandished the scanner. “This way I can be sure, and catch them while they’re fresh!”

I gave my most tactful customer service nod, not looking at Zhee. “You’ve got it all thought out.”

“Yep! I don’t really need this many wands, but they were the best deal in bulk, and this way I don’t have to worry about keeping just one charged. Let’s see how they perform.” She dashed back over to the same bush, and after a moment with the scanner in one hand and the gravity wand in another, she made a happy little hop then ran over to show us.

Wriggling in the gravity field was something tiny with compound eyes and kicking legs. I didn’t look at Zhee, just nodded politely and congratulated her on her catch.

She thanked us again and hurried over to the table where something that looked like a portable stasis box waited. The sunset was fading into pure dark, but the droning calls of the screamers were as loud as ever. She flicked on a red light and muttered happily about lanterns that didn’t make people’s eyes adjust. Then she waved at us and went back to work.

We walked back down the path. When we were a little ways away, I looked at Zhee. Yup, antennae angled into a frown.

“So,” I said. “A lot like cicadas, then.”

“If you decide you want to eat the screamers, I don’t want to know about it.”

“Nah, they creep me out too. But don’t tell my old college friend I said that; she was always trying to get me to be a more adventurous eater with exotic foods. I don’t know where she got half of that stuff.”

“And I don’t want to know what kind of foods an omnivore would find exotic.”

I smiled through the loud darkness. “You sure? Most of ‘em are meat; they probably wouldn’t be that strange to you.”

“Such as?”

“Well, there was the fermented shark—”

“Nope,” he declared. “No rotten sea creatures, thanks. Today is vile enough already.”

“Yeah, that one was pretty extreme,” I admitted. “Just opening a can of the stuff could clear a room in three seconds flat.”

Zhee pointed a pincher at me. “If you ever bring any of that onto the ship, you will spend the entire voyage living in the airlock.”

I smiled. “Noted!”

“No disgusting things on the ship,” Zhee grumbled.

I shined my light on the bushes as we walked. “I wonder if these are safe for cats. Telly would have a great time chasing one.”

“No.”

“You’re right; we wouldn’t want it getting stuck in the engine or something.”

“Also that. Just a general ‘no’ for you.”

“Party pooper.”

And then we discussed human idioms, and the anecdote my parents had told me about a diaper incident when I was an infant, and it kept us distracted from the sound of the screamers all the way to the ship.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#The Token Human #the Patreon is live! go check it out!#that free tier is pretty cool #and the paying ones are even better #got so much cool stuff to share #my writing #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs

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