​ Humans are Weird – Boom, Boom, Boom


“The air itself tasted of the eternal.
The sky split and opened.
Fire lanced across space itself.
The immortal touched the child, and both cried out for the beauty.”


Prince Triclick rubbed his sensory horns ruefully as he finished chanting the poem and cast a final glance over where the silverwings were stored. The graceful long distance transports normally sat in the open field in tastefully arranged clusters around their maintenance sheds. Each one would be anchored with a graviton tether more than strong enough to keep it on the ground even in its passive mode. That is how he had always arranged his wings on his home colony, and that is how he had lost the majority of this colony’s silverwings. A shame that had nearly cost his family the rights to develop this world.
Now the graceful curve of each leading edge of the beautiful craft was shoved under the trailing edge of the one in front of it. Thick cables that couldn’t help but bite into and damage the sensitive sensors that impregnated the flight surfaces crossed over and extended wing surfaces. Over all this, to protect everything from the chaos approaching from the north, northeast the human had thrown a hyper-insulating tarp. The dullest grey surface you could imagined covered the whole in a tight wrap. Each graviton tether was fully activated and the whole thing resembled some humming isopod that had escaped from a world with far less gravity and peace of mind. Seven such monstrosities were lined up at a respectful distance from the next so that if one line of protection failed the rest wouldn’t be damaged.
“That was beautiful,” Ranger Smith said, the admiration vibrating up through Prince Triclick’s feet and drawing his attention back to the present moment.
At least the power of the human’s voice made his sensory horns stop tingling, Prince Triclick thought with a rueful grimace.
“Who wrote it again?” the human asked.
“When she wrote it her name was Thrity-Five Flaps,” Prince Triclick explained. “The entire poem cycle earned her the right to a smaller name and she recorded her next names as Fifteen Trills.”
The human nodded and grunted as he bent down and with an almost terrifying display of force lifted the remaining tarp and began striding back to the main tent that was sheltered in among the trees.
“So you do get thunderstorms on your homeworld?” Private Smith asked.
“None like that,” Prince Triclick stated, glaring back over his shoulder at the black bank of clouds that was gradually surging towards them from the north.
“But you do have some, or how could What’s her Flap have written that poem cycle,” the human pressed eagerly.
Prince Triclick gave a little sigh of relief as they passed under the dense canopy of the forest proper and the potent electrostatic energy began to dissipate in the movement of the branches. .
“We do,” he agreed, “but they are vanishingly rare. The one that inspired that particular poetry was the result of a meteor shower of heavily ionizing fragments.”
The human bobbed his head eagerly as he listened. Private Smith was clearly enjoying this story immensely and Prince Triclick sound himself getting into it as well despite the ominous feeling caused by the approaching storm. They reached the main tent, the one used as a cafeteria and general meeting place just as he was describing how the meteor shower had disrupted power over half a continent.
“Yo!” a rough voice called out. “Stow the tarps and help us secure the edges! The auto cinch failed!”
“Sorry sir!” Ranger Smith said, carefully but quickly boosting the prince from his shoulder. “I gotta get this!”
Prince Triclick mentally licked down his irritation, he really had been at the best part of the story and it rubbed his fur all wrong to end it there, but duty was duty no matter what your species was, and he flapped up to a handy perch. He considered going back to his office, but it shouldn’t take the humans very long to finish cinching down the edges of the tent manually and perhaps Ranger Smith would like to hear the rest of the story while the current storm raged among the uppermost branches of the forest. Prince Triclick pulled out a portable data pad and began working on a few low priority tasks while keeping one ear perked for the sound of Ranger Smith’s footsteps. However he had finished several tasks by the time Sargent Holt strode in announcing that all the hatches were battened, whatever that meant, and he was getting a drink and starting a fire.
Prince Triclick did not like the sound of any of that, from the metaphor he clearly didn’t know, to the concept of a human mixing alcohol and fire, even if they were each in their proper place, but he knew better by now than to attempt to interfere with a determined Holt. Just then the first flash of lightening came through the transparent sections of the tent and Prince Triclick clenched his jaw to keep from shuddering as the massive rolling boom of the thunder followed it. He almost succeeded. The first crack was louder than the team had calculated and overwhelmed the sound dampening layers in the tent.
There was a general start as the majority of the Winged in the tent took to the air and sought out their particular human friend. A general and gentle murmur followed as the humans opened their outermost layer at the chest to let their particular Winged friends find that extra layer of insulation provided by their bodies and their coats. Holt glanced over at Prince Triclick and lifted a great flap invitingly. Prince Triclick eyed the place uncertainly for a moment, he would rather wait for Ranger Smith. However the lightening flashed again, closer now, and Prince Triclick darted for the protective space before the following sound wave could hit.
The insulation on the tent meant that he couldn’t hear the first drops of precipitation strike the roof and for that he was grateful as he snuggled into the soft material of Sargent Holt’s coat. The engineers insisted that shoving your sensory horns into a natural material to mute the sound of thunders storms was a far inferior method to the sound cancelers they developed, but then engineers were rather thick in the skull in Prince Triclick’s opinion. As soon as the sound rolled away he peeled his still stinging sensory horns away from Holt’s coat and blinked up at him.
“Have you seen Ranger Smith?” Prince Triclick asked. “He wished me to finish a story for him.”
Holt nodded.
“Doubt you’ll be able to finish it before the end of the storm,” Holt said.
“And why is that?” Prince Triclick asked.
“Smith is out in the sheds with the rest of the storm watchers,” Holt said jerking his chin towards the rear of the tent.
Prince Triclick blinked up at him in shock. He almost missed the next lightening flash.
“The sheds are nearly uninsulated!” Prince Triclick burst out. “The noise level-”
“That’s just why they like it,” Holt interrupted, bringing his jar of frothy fermented liquid to his lips before expanding on that nonsense.
“Remember humans aren’t as noise sensitive as you wingy folk,” Holt continued, “and lots of humans like the sound of rain. Can’t hear that at all in the insulated bits.”
Prince Triclick pondered this as he ducked his head once more to press his sensory horns into the material of Holt’s coat. When the wave of sound passed, he thought it took longer this time, he looked up at Holt again.
“You are claiming,” he began, “that more than one human would rather spend a storm in an unheated, uninsulated storage shed having their eardrums blasted and there electroreceptors tingled rather than spend it by the-” he glanced over at the fireplace and the primitive nature of that stopped him.
Perhaps there was a bit of inconsistency in being shocked at the one behavior, and passing over the madness of insisting on having a fire in a forest in a storm. Holt gave a chuckle and gestured with his fermented drink at the fire that cracked and sent out a wave of sparks.
“Hey,” he said, “we ain’t all nuts like that.”
He raised the drink to his lips and took a long drought. Prince Triclick stared up at him and felt his astonishment bleed out into a sigh.
“No,” he agreed. “Not like that.”
Another flash came and he tucked his sensory horns back into the coat.
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What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
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QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
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 Humans are Weird – In a Tangle


Brilliant sunlight filtered down through the skylights as Private Cutdepth sorted through the box in front of him. He couldn’t help glancing up longingly at the glowing patch of heat on the wall. The cold time the humans called ‘winter’ was finally receding as the revolutions of the titled planet brought the blessed light of the local star to bear on their joint base. However the long cold seemed to have driven the spirit of crystal water into every crack and crevice of the base, even into his own joints, he thought as he flexed his tail ruefully. Again he felt the loose flap of skin rub against the storeroom floor sending a twinge of discomfort into his spine. He thought longingly of the nice thick layer of fat he had displayed on the sides of his tail when he had arrived in the warm time. Growing up in his father’s colony he had never thought about those precious reserves of energy and insulation. Now he couldn’t wait to feel them expand once more as the humans promised they would with the return of the blossoms and fresh growth.
“Grind that toothful when the gears get there,” Private Cutdepth said with a sigh as he pulled his attention from the attractive patch of warmth on the wall and recommenced rummaging through the box in front of him.
He reached over and once more ran a sensitive palm over the odd, human datapad he had been issued that morning. There was no handy texture differential to indicate where the charging surface was though Private O’Brien insisted that a unique texture would soon develop from repeated use of the chargers. There was a slight, a very, very slight color differential. Something vaguely between gray and black. Private Cutdepth was able to see it, in direct sunlight in noonday, but that did him little good here. He sighed and tried to recall the distance from the edge of the charging surface to the edge of the device as a whole. Once the device was charged of course he would be able to feel the electrostatic differential easily on his palms despite the numbness around his two primary fingers.
“But if it had a charge I wouldn’t need to be here digging for a charger,” Private Cutdepth muttered to himself, before licking his eyes in frustration and shoving his hands into the box.
Thanks to the numbness it took him several more seconds than it should have to realize that these were the charging units for the great mechanical devices, far overrated for his little datapad. They would work, but it would be a shameful misuse of equipment. With another sigh he turned to a stack of unlabeled boxes on a higher shelf. His tail twitched as he mentally calculated the vertical distance to the boxes. It was technically too high for him and protocol required that he either call a human for aid or get a ladder. With a huff of defiance in the general direction of the safety manual he grabbed the lowest shelf and pulled himself up.
His own data reading device, a gift from his mother before leaving home, had finally failed. The specially made device had lasted longer than the regulation issue items had, but even it had eventually succumbed to the wild fluctuations in temperature he had exposed it to in the course of nursing their water collectors along. The rupture of the power core that had damaged his palm and left him numb had been, according to the manufacturer, an unprecedented catastrophic failure, and from the way they had so eagerly demanded it back and unparalleled opportunity to gather data. The human datapad, made explicitly to take massive temperature changes would presumably last longer with its shielded layers.
He reached the boxed that he hoped contained the smaller chargers and reached out with his good forehand to grab it. However his numb fingers didn’t quite have the grip on the shelf that he thought and just as he secured his grasp on the top box he felt himself begin to slip backwards. He felt a moment of pure, hatchling panic before the fall was over and he was gasping on the ground, blinking and licking his eyes with a cable coiled around his snout.
Private Cutdepth took a moment to carefully flex, feeling for any injuries. He doubted the short fall would have done any damage but he had lost a lot of his protective fat to the cold. Pawing at that the false stone flooring the humans used was quickly beginning to leech the warmth out of his back scutes. Determining that his spine was still intact he flung himself over. Or rather he made an effort to fling himself over onto his paws. Something was wrapped tightly around one hind leg, something apparently wedge shaped was pressing into the side he had tried to roll preventing movement, and many small things were under his tail, preventing him from getting any leverage from the floor.
He gave a few experimental wriggles and produced a small avalanche behind his head. Feeling irritation building he gave a powerful sweep of his tail, only to hear something give an expensive sounding snap and drive one eyes into something pokey.
“What’s going on here?” Called out the rich warm voice of a human.
Private Cutdepth froze and let humiliation and relief grind out their respective rights while the human approached, the floor vibrating with the double beat of his footfalls.
“My dude!” Private O’Brien’s voice explained, vibrating with suppressed laughter, “my little dude! Are you okay?”
“I didn’t sprain my scutes,” Private Cutdepth replied.
“Do you need a hand up?” Private O’Brien asked, his massive upper body swaying into view.
“If it wouldn’t gum your gears,” Private Cutdepth said.
It was a booted foot that Private O’Brien extended to gently prod Private Cutdepth, tuck under his shoulder, and roll the other onto his belly. Private Cutdepth tried to get his footing on the smooth false stone and found himself scrambling in the cluster of cables and devices.
“Take it easy little dude,” Private O’Brien said with a chuckle.
The human folded himself down and began gathering up the various charging devices and other items that Private Cutdepth couldn’t identify and tossing them back into the boxes without order.
“What are those?” Private Cutdepth asked.
“Chargers, data transfer points,” Private O’Brien frowned down at an oblong in his hand, “don’t know what this is, that sort of stuff. It’s just an odds and ends box really. You know, stuff that is too good to toss or recycle. Here’s the one you need.”
The human tossed a coil of charge cable at Private Cutdepth with the same care that he was tossing the rest into the box. Private Cutdepth carefully disentangled it from around his eyes and tucked it against the data pad as the human swept the last of the assorted items into the box and replaced the box on the shelf. Now that he had a good look at the items he could see that many were damaged and most were worn. Even the one he held, though it would be functional, showed more than acceptable wear.
“Our storage space is limited isn’t it?” Private Cutdepth asked.
“A bit,” Private O’Brien said with a shrug of his massive shoulders.
“Shouldn’t most of those be sent to the mills for recycling?” he asked, indicating the boxes of assorted items that surely only a human would consider related.
“No!” the human exclaimed, shaking his head emphatically. “They are much to valuable for that, and besides, the moment we recycled them we’d need them! And the main supply ship takes months to get here!”
Private Cutdepth blinked slowly up at the grinning human. There was clearly some joke here. The human smelled of laughter even if he wasn’t vibrating with it. Private Cutdepth heaved a sigh and tucked his new datapad and charger under his foreleg.
“Let’s go out in the sun my spinning gear,” he said in a tired tone.
“Sure thing my little dude!” the human replied.  

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What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
AMAZON

 Humans are Weird – Off Schedule


“My concern is, not that a human almost started a fire in the base,” Wing Commander Five Trills explained, speaking in carefully modulated tones, “our fire suppression protocol’s are more than sufficient to prevent danger to wing or lung, no.”
The Winged, an older officer whose sensory horns were starting to wrinkle reached up and rubbed the sensory nubs absently. He should have hung comfortably over his semi-spherical desk in a spine supporting perch that was common to Winged of his advanced years. There he did perch, but his spine was arching in a distinctly uncomfortable angle to avoid the stacks of datapads and piles of papers on his desk. The walls of his office were well padded with tastefully colored vibration canceling hangings. They were almost a necessity for a healthy Winged on a human built base, for an aging Winged with growing horn sensitivity they were a medical essential. As if to emphasize this reality Wing Second Twenty-two Clicks felt the uneven beats of a human walking shiver the perch he was clinging too.
“My concern,” Wing Commander Five Trills went on, “is that there have been no less than five close calls involving the humans and fire in the past week.”
The wing second clicked in concern and felt his wings flare a bit as he gripped that information in his winghooks.
“I was not aware of that pattern,” he interjected.
“That is a compounding concerning factor,” Five Trills went on.
The wing commander cut off the quick apology Twenty-two Clicks tried to make.
“The concern comes not from the fact that you did not know,” he assured him, “rather I am deeply concerned that of the five incidents where something caught fire, or almost caught fire, only this latest one was reported through the proper channels.”
Twenty-tow Clicks gave a low tooth-whistle of unease at that.
“Nor is fire the only issue,” the wing commander went on, pulling up a list of reports on his desk projector. “There have been wingfuls of minor flooding incidents both in the base and outside in the transport yards. There has been a sharp uptick in slip, trip, and fall injuries in the humans, both reported and unreported. Private Psmith cut one hand deeply and is on medical leave as well. While one such serious injury is hardly a pattern in of itself, as part of the larger swarm of issue it is concerning.”
Wing Second Twenty-two trills stuck his tongue out in agreement, in the position that humans described as “blep”. Then he thoughtfully ran his tongue over his teeth to show he was mulling over the issue.
“Do the humans offer any explanation?” he asked.
While there were other species on the base he sincerely doubted that they would have his commander pulling his fur out in the same way.
“I have not yet had time to initiate proper conversational investigations,” the Wing Commander said, wrinkling his nose intently.
“Why not?” Twenty-two Clicks demanded.
“The main thermal of this investigation was Private Psmith’s injury,” the Wing Commander stated, shoving a small stack of datapads to the side of his desk so he could pull up the grotesque injury information in the projection. “I went to the medical ward to sympathize with him, there was no thought of investigation in my mind, but, even taking the effects of the drugs into account, he was oddly reticent to discuss the cause of his injury. At first I assumed this was pride causing him to refuse to discuss a particularly foolish action, however his manner seemed to truculent for that.”
“Truculence,” Twenty-two Clicks interjected with a thoughtful hiss. “Now that you bump me that way the humans on base have been rather over truculent-”
“Over what time frame?” the wing commander demanded.
“Over exactly this time frame,” Twenty-two Clicks responding indicating the increases accidents shown on the graph. “Also they have increased their safety protocols in response to our presence. I had been curious about it at the time, but didn’t feel the need to report a sudden increase in safety mindfulness-”
“Let’s make putting a new regulation in about that on our front teeth shall we?” Wing Commander Five Trills interjected in a dry tone.
Twenty-two Clicks gave a raspy laugh.
“Probably a decent vector,” he admitted. “I’ll add over conscientiousness about safety to the suggested paranoia file.”
The wing commander emitted a tired laugh that trailed off into a sigh as he rubbed his horns.
“I think it’s safe to say that whatever is causing this issue was something they saw coming,” Twenty-two Clicks stated.
“Did they give you any reason for the increased security?” the wing commander asked, shifting on his perch into a more comfortable position.
“I do recall that they suggested a connection between the precautions and the shift change,” Twenty-two Clicks stated.
“The shift change for the observations of the night terrors?” Five Trills asked.
Twenty-two Clicks flicked his ears in confirmation as he pulled up the schedule for the base.
“The spiky-dark moth survey as the humans call it,” Twenty-two Clicks went on. “The night terrors are such a nuisance, even a danger, to us it just made sense to delegate handling them to the humans.”
“Did the humans object?” the wing commander asked.
“Not in the least,” Twenty-two Clicks replied with an amused flick of his ears. “They called it the perfect seasonal work. “Hunting night terrors in spooky season” is what they called it.”
“Could their be a superstitious element to the behavior change?” Five Trills asked.
“Possibly,” Twenty-two Clicks said slowly, “I know humans don’t like discussing their personal superstitions very much, but I don’t think that is a major thermal in the issue. They were treating it more like a physical issue in theirselves. I recall Psmith specifically stating that the shift in schedules, ‘night hours’ he called it, would ‘mess him up until he adjusted’.”
“So there is an expectation that the problem will resolve itself,” the wing commander stated. “Still I would like to find out what exactly it is about shifting from a daylight hour shift to moonlight hour shift that ‘messes up’ the humans so bad.”  

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What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
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 Humans are Weird – Almost


Third Sister reminded herself to keep close watch on the human despite the fact that she couldn’t see his expressive face. Granted, it was made easier by the fact that she knew exactly where he was and what he was doing, but Second Brother George had already displayed a very human knack for causing chaos in the short weeks he had been staying in their hive. The wanderer was unfailingly cheerful and polite, but his impulse control was proving to be rather underdeveloped. The moment he had heard that they needed another pilot he had quite literally jumped at the chance to join the elder sisters in their work and had all but insisted that he be given the oldest walker with it’s demand for experience and attention.
The solar equinox was nearing it’s zenith and Third Sister was keeping an antenna to the breeze as the temperature crept up towards the level where her protective wax coating would no longer be useful. The dense atmosphere and the intra-solar dust clouds meant that the synthetic wax would fully protect her outer membrane from the muted radiation of the distant suns on this world, as long as it was still semi-solid. She drew in a deep breath and flexed her frill out as she braced her four feet on the crest of the vineyard hill. Below her a trio of four-legged utility vehicles crept down the access pathways between the rows of what the humans called vines. To one side a few sparse trees stood, but they cast no shadow in the light of the twin suns and did nothing to alleviate the nervousness that crept up her membrane.
She had been born on this world and had never known, nor needed, the protection of a full canopy. Even the thin covering that her Fathers’ coaxed over the main nursery lines wasn’t strictly necessary. Nevertheless the genetic need to feel that protective shield over her, or at least to know it was near still scratched at her awareness like a particularly irritating boring parasite. She tilted her head to one side, centering her vision on the central utility vehicle using the necessary mindfulness her task required to drive out the mental need. It’s extended arms reached out halfway over the rows, as did the arms of the other two. Flexible bands hung down from the arms, striking the scraggly Earth origin vines and sending a carefully calculated tremor down the woody tissue and out through the branches.
The same heavy atmosphere that meant her membrane didn’t crisp in the solar radiation also slowed the winds in some way that the Central University’s best meteorologists couldn’t quite explain. The lack of a proper night cycle also added to the lack of wind compared to most other habitable planets. When it had become clear that this strange atmospheric inertia would mean that the traditional Shatar vines would not be able to thrive Third Sister’s ancestors had not be entirely unprepared. They Understood the need for wind to strengthen woody tissue. However they had grossly undercalculated the infrastructure costs of compensating for that inertia. The solution that had arisen out of many hungry generations of trial and error was the strikers. Unable to depend on airflow most cultivated plants could simply be shaken into health. The newly arrived Earth origin plants were no exception.
Third Sister angled her triangular head to look at the notes in her hands. The would need to run another five rounds with each utility vehicle. She clicked her mandibles in frustration as her fingers twitched with the desire to take the controls of the walkers herself. Every year since she had been tall enough to reach the controls she had piloted one of the machines under the mindful supervision of Third Mother. However with First Grandmother and First Grandfather leaving to see what trading might be done in the next sector Third Mother’s time was better spent taking over their duties, leaving an empty supervisory niche at the top of the vineyards.
The first hint that something wasn’t quite right was the sound of poorly aligned gears grinding. Third Sister snapped her head up and splayed her antennas. That the sound might be coming from some other walker was nearly impossible so she centered her vision on Second Brother George’s machine without hesitation, but it was only nearly impossible so she kept her antenna splayed just in case some other aging machine, not being driven by a pilot many times too large had decided to break down. However her first speculation proved right as the striking arms flailed a moment and then snapped up and the walker gave one protesting leap before tearing off down the hill at an accelerating lope. Third Sister felt panic freeze her feet to the ground. Fear for the human’s life and limbs mingled with frantic calculations of how much damage he was going to do the rows below him, moving at that speed. She did not see how he could possibly manage the quarter circle turn that ended at the next section of rows.
Then he did. Third Sister watched in stunned and relived shock as the walker sprang and twisted to the side, somehow avoiding crashing into the staggered rows, tipping over, or even losing speed from its headlong race down the hill. Second Brother George must have maintained some level on control even as the walker gained speed. The walker and its human pilot continued, somehow managing to pull off the tight turns at each point and then gradually slowed to a stop headed up the opposite slope. Seemingly having regained control Second Brother George turned the walker and trotted it back up the hill Third Sister was on. He turned the walker and re-extended the striking arms before catching up to the others and matching their pace once more.
Third Sister remained frozen a moment longer and then scrambled over to her personal transport. The tracks clattered to life and carried her quickly to the turn point at the bottom of the hill ahead of the walkers. She jumped out and waved her arms in a signal for the human pilot to leave the cockpit of the walker. However Second Brother George only opened the door and twisted he fleshy face to expose his teeth in a friendly gesture.
“What’s up Sis?” He called out.
“What happened up the hill?” she demanded.
“What happened where?” he asked, his face wrinkling in confusion.
“You lost control of the walker speed!” Third Sister snapped. “You almost rolled the machine four times!”
“Oh that!” Second Brother George said, his face smoothing. “Yeah, I got the gear shifts mixed up again and accidentally put her in flatland sprint mode. Once she was going fast I figured there was no way to bring her under control until I had her going up the other side.”
“You almost rolled it!” Second Sister pressed.
“Almost!” Second Brother George called out with a cheerful wave. “It’s a lovely word. See you on the flip side.”
With that he closed the door and moved his walker to start back up the hill.  
Please go and leave a new rating and review on my 2nd book! 
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What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
AMAZON

​ Humans are Weird – Lost Threads

From the way the diffused sun beams splashed onto his few exposed tendrils Notes the Passing Changes was vaguely aware that the clouds over head must have been a roiling mass of gleaming gray chaos. The effect was subtle, needing the contrast of a substantial shadow blocking the rays for contrast to note, such as the long one cast by the lumbering approach of a human. Such formations were something beautiful beyond any other light display Notes the Passing Changes had the chance to enjoy. However it was only in rare moments that it was safe to catch glimpses of the phenomenon.
Even the leading edge of such a cloud formation on this world carried the threat of wind storms capable of ripping the majority of the detritus that formed Notes the Passing Changes’s biomass from all but the deepest of the forests, shredding years of memories away. Or it heralded a rainstorm that would flood the lowlands and risk a soggy rot that might corrupt any tendrils that were not specifically optimized for water. A particularly wild storm might gather up the ambient electrical potential of his very tendrils and blast the land around with enough power to fuel an interstellar engine. Notes the Passing Changes found an idle tendril thought curling around the fancy that part of his biomass might still be alive in that mass of glass and charred biomatter, but he sternly pulled his attention back to the task at hand.
This time the storm had not brought winds, rain, or electrical discharge in its front, at least to no profound degree. The bare trees in the orchard did tremble as their branches caught the brief gusts of wind and their roots translated that movement clearly into the damp soil they clung to. Notes the Passing Changes could even feel ever so slight a charge difference build up, and then dissipating before it would even be a threat to the fragile electronics the humans carried let alone his study tendrils. No, there had been only one gust of wind of any strength, and it had born down on the rise he had pulled the greater mound of his more advanced sensory tendrils up onto to protect them from the flooding that hadn’t come. His most sensory rich filaments had been sitting there under an, upon pondering, thick but far too loosely piled layer of duff.
The one gust of wind had swirled the leaves into the surrounding trees. This would not have been a problem had that been the only meteorological event to occur, but just as Notes the Passing Changes had reached out his tendrils with the most tensile strength the ground began to tremble with little impacts, then there was a searing pain in one tendril followed by another. He instantly paused in perplexity. By the time he had processed the situation, this was a hail storm, his mass of tendrils was throbbing with building waves of pain. He could simply burrow down into the soil, but he had chose this spots because the bedrock heaved up through the porous topsoil providing an island against the flood that hadn’t come. There really wasn’t time to get all of his mass back down the few thin paths back to where it had been safely under the firmer detritus layers before and he had never adapted himself to occupying solid rock. Recalling the scattered leaves would expose even more of his tendrils to damage and the temperature of the surface layer was rapidly dipping to the freeze-thaw barrier as the hailstones collected.
Notes the Passing Changes was composting the situation as the pain grew more intense when the previously distant shadowfall and foot beats of the human were on top of this gathered mass.
“Don’t let me step on you!” Pat shouted as he sprinted to the base of the nearest trees to catch the escaped leaves and flailed his arms around in what Notes the Passing Changes could only perceive as a directionless manner.
Then the human stood and moved towards the undersoil hilltop.
“Clear a path for me!” Pat shouted.
The human paused at the edge of the visible knots of tendrils and waited. Notes the Passing Changes tried to devote enough mental attention to the human to figure out what he wanted but the pain was still intense.
“The center!” Pat shouted again. “Clear me a path to the center of this so I don’t step on you!”
Notes the Passing Changes was able to process that and dutifully pulled his tendrils out of the way despite the pain it caused. He did not know what Pat had in mind but the young human had proved himself clever at solving problems and compassionate towards others. It followed the paths of logic to trust him. The weight of the human pounded down a few times, and then there was a flush of warmth and a cessation of new pain in his central portion atop the undersoil hill. Notes the Passing Changes was still processing this sudden and partial change when he noticed that Pat was back at the edge of the forest flailing about in the detritus once more. Then Pat was back at the top of the undersoil hill, then back at the forest edge. With each pass another section of Notes the Passing Changes tendrils felt the warmth and the release from pain, and now that he could pay attention, could taste the bitter, teaming flavor of top layer detritus on duff level tendrils.
That completed the contemplation loop. Pat was using his mammalian agility to rapidly preform an emergency detritus transplant. With each armload Notes the Passing Changes was able to play closer attention to the human’s behavior and to respond helpfully. Another gust threatened to lift away this reclaimed protection and Notes the Passing Changes was even able to voice a suggestion.
“Bring branches!” he called out with some tendrils that were permanently in the local trees.
Pat gave an exclamation of consent and began bringing up various deadwood for weight. His own suffering diminishing by the moment Notes the Passing Changes used some of his more sheltered tendrils to calculate how much pain Pat might be in. However he could see now that Pat was in his full “outdoors” layering and was unlikely to be able to even feel the impacts of the hailstones. This was supported by the fact that when Pat passed into the quieter under layers of the forest Notes the Passing Changes could hear the human muttering, almost chanting what sounded like fragments of some sentence, whatever it was, completely unrelated to the situation touching his attention. Comforted by that knowledge Notes the Passing Changes concentrated on getting his sensory tendrils safely out of the impact danger and as comfortably as possible arranged under the small logs and branches.
“That is more than sufficient,” Notes the Passing Changes finally assures the perspiring human, who was off-gassing enough carbon mass to attract the attention of the local trees.
Pat gave a pleased gasp and staggered over to drop his last armful of leaves over the now covered tendrils. Then he staggered back to the forest and sat down on a fallen trunk that was know to both of them as a comfortable conversation spot. The canopy was high here and the log was easy to vibrate.
“Are you hurt?” Pat asked.
Notes the Passing Changes pondered his answer, trying to taste what the human would find relevant.
“There is still some lingering pain in my tendrils,” he admitted, “but the echos fade quickly and there will be no lasting damage.”
“Good, good.” Pat got out between breaths.
“May I ask how you knew to come aid me?” Notes the Passing Changes asked. “My attention has been far from the human habitations since the main harvest ended and I did not think to call for help.”
“I was just out wandering,” Pat said, leaning back against a tree hard by the log.
Notes the Passing Changes considered what he knew of this half of the young pair.
“I hope there is no rejection in your union,” Notes the Passing Changes offered.
“What?” Pat said in a startled tone, his eyes snapping open. “You mean-I don’t-”
The confused look left the human’s face and he suddenly laughed.
“Do you mean because I am out of the house in this weather you think that maybe Sandy gave me the heave to?”
“I do not recognize all of those terms but I suspect you understand my growth,” Notes the Passing Changes agreed.
“No,” Pat said shaking his head. “I am just trying to remember something and came out here to think it out.”
“Ah, was the associated memory tendril damaged or misplaced?” Notes the Passing Changes asked, feeling a wash of sympathy.
“Neither?” Pat replied after wrinkling his nose, “maybe both a little bit?”
“Would you like to share what tendrils you have?” Notes the Passing Changes asked.
“Well,” Pat began, reaching up to scratch under his hat. “It’s like this. I know I read this story somewhere about this animal, you know our megafauna symbiotes the canines?”
“I have heard many humans grow eloquent on the subject,” Notes the Passing Changes didn’t try to hid the dry bite to the comment and Pat laughed in reply.
“We do go on about our good boys,” he admitted. “Well I am sure that I read an old, old story about one. Thousands of years ago. There was this volcanic eruption you touch? A lot of people died, and a lot of dogs too, and there was a story about one dog with a silver collar. I was sharing the story in the base and someone mentioned that they thought it was a false myth. You touch? Supposed to be history but really just a story someone made up.”
“Did you attempt trace back your sources?” Notes the Passing Changes asked as he flexed his sore tendrils carefully under the awkward scattering of logs.
“That’s the problem,” Pat said. “I can’t remember the dog’s supposed name. I can’t find the story. I can’t remember the name of the story. I can’t even remember where I first heard it. Neither can the other guy. We’ve searched the local library, and it’s a good library with a lot of information on the historic event so it should be there, even if it was just a story.”
“But you have not been able to find a trace of it yet,” Notes the Passing Changes observed.
“The nail on the head,” Pat said nodding his head vigorously. “So I came out to dig though my memories out here with the brisk wind to clear my head.”
“Well it certainly cleared mine,” Notes the Passing Changes observed, making sure to put a rueful note in the log voice.
Pat started and burst out in a laugh.
“Was that a joke?” the human demanded.
Notes the Passing Changes thought this humor a good note to end on and pulled his attention away from his smarting tendrils, there were other places he could probably shore up his defenses if the lovely clouds were going to make a habit of flinging ice balls at the ground.  

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Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
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Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
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 Humans are Weird – Sandpaper
“Fourth Sister?”
Her elder sister’s voice came filtered though the noise canceling headwrap and Fourth Sister felt her antenna curl down tight to her head under its comforting weight. It was nearly impossible to detect emotion through such altered noise when you couldn’t see the set of her frill or smell her pheromones over the abraded wood, however Fourth Sister was fairly certain that Second Sister was not in a good mood. She expanded her lung to draw air over the pleats and was grateful, not for the first time, that a sigh of exasperation was unnoticeable in her own species. How humans managed not to irritate their older sisters was beyond her with their loud, gusty exhalations. She raised a hind foot in a gesture of request as she carefully disengaged her sander from the wood she had been abrading and set it in the safety box. Once that was done she pulled off her insulating head wrap and took the chance to stretch her wide frill out of her coveralls, drinking in the wild tree pheromones that permeated her workshop.
If there was a little bit of a dominance display in the gesture Second Sister chose to ignore it. Some how the most aesthetic frill that had graced their Mothers’ hives for generations had fallen to a mere Fourth Sister who had also excelled in crafting skill and innovation. There was little doubt that Fourth Sister would secure a mate, possibly even before First Sister as their First Father was hardly very traditional when it came to such things. This could cause some tension in the hive vines but in general Fourth Sisters widely distinct interests kept her out of direct confrontation with her three older sisters and they maintained a rather precarious horizontal structure on their vine.
“Did you resecure the safety gates when you came in?” Fourth Sister asked, remember to lower her frill beforehand to make the question seem less accusing.
Second Sister curled her long antenna down in a curt motion of confirmation.
“Did you loan some of your-” she cut off and her hands flexed as she tried to recall the word.
“The paper,” she said finally, “the paper with the embedded silicates for controlled abrasion.”
Fourth Sister let her head rotate idly to the side as she waited.
Second Sister’s frill rippled and flushed with annoyance.
“Well?” she demanded.
“I think you might have abandoned that vine a little too soon,” Fourth Sister offered, trying to be genuinely helpful. “You should let a few more nouns bloom at least, if not go to seed.”
Second Sister tilted her head to the side and then her frill relaxed as she gave a little chitter of amusement. She braced her feet as if she was getting good footing for a big stretch.
“Did you lend some of your sandpaper to First Father Dickson?”
Fourth Sister flexed her mandibles to deny this, but just before she could a faint, sunbeam of memory pierced her canopy of thought.
“I may have,” she clicked out slowly.
Second Sister’s antenna lay flat against her head for a moment and she reset to the a less aggressive angle with a visible effort.
“Do you care to elaborate?” she promoted shortly.
“I was smoothing down Second Father’s pheromone mirror a few days ago,” Fourth Sister said. “That saltwater seasoned oak log has given me tens of them and I had found the perfect section for Second Father. Because it was a pheromone mirror I couldn’t use traditional sap stripping on it and the sander just worked perfectly-”
“The human,” Second Sister interrupted in what was now just a tired tone. “I assume this path is somehow leading us to a human?”
Fourth Sister gave a start and clicked a distracted confirmation.
“First Father Dickson entered my workshop,” she explained. “As the vine curls...at least I think he did. Something came human stomping up and made sounds at me. However it was my noted working hours and I did not think it necessary to stop my work, it is such a bother to get unwrapped and then rewrapped, so I just gave a confirming gesture with my back foot. When I was done with the mirror the sandpaper I had left on the table was gone. It is entirely possible that First Father Dickson borrowed it.”
“I suppose it would be of no use to ask you if you know what he did with it?” Second Sister asked.
“Used it to smooth a wooden surface I assume,” Fourth Sister offered.
Somewhat to her shock Second Sister sagged at her knee joints and let her head loll on her next for a bit. Fourth Sister reached out to put a comforting hand on her arm, but remember that she was covered in abrasive wood shavings at the last moment.
“What is wrong?” she asked, more than a little disturbed now.
“Oh nothing,” Second Sister said in a grim tone. “I am just wishing that I was still off dealing with my flight of Winged instead of letting Third Sister take my place.”
“By the vine what’s wrong?” Fourth Sister demanded.
Second Sister rocked back on her hindmost legs and gave a long flex to her frill.
“I am going to have to request that a human male show less attention to his personal health, at least while visiting with our hive members,” she finally said.
Fourth Sister’s frill extended with shock.
“A human male was over grooming?” she demanded. “Does that even happen? Why, I remember when First Father Dickson was Brother Unicus Dickky we could barely convince him to bathe off week old pheromones!”
“He wasn’t exactly over grooming,” Second Sister explained. “It was how he was grooming.”
“And how was he grooming?” Fourth Sister asked, her antenna flexing in eager attention now.
“With your sandpaper,” Second Sister stated in a clipped tone.
“With my…” Fourth Sister curled her antenna in confusion.
“You know that he goes about, on the beach and even between the gardens with no foot armor,” Second Sister went on.
“No!” Fourth Sister objected. “He has foot armor. He chose to grown out his natural armor!”
“Well it failed,” Second Sister stated.
“He cut a foot?” Fourth Sister demanded, her own hindmost limb twitching up in sympathy despite her heavy protective boots.
“Not as far as I could gather,” Second Sister said. “Rather the natural armor grew to thick and uneven and the resulting pressure on the living membrane caused it to split.”
Even as Fourth Sister flinched in empathy a rather horrifying idea flowered in her mind. She tilted her triangular head and stared at the safety box that held her sander.
“Human foot armor is made of dead skin,” she stated slowly. “The only way to even out thickness would be to remove it either chemically, or mechanically-”
“I don’t know if I should be glad I don’t have to explain what he was doing, right there in First Father’s garden, to you or worried that the concept graftedso quickly for you,” Second Sister observed.
“Are his feet uninjured?” Fourth Sister demanded.
“They are no more injured than when he started,” Second Sister stated. “However I don’t think I managed to explain that to any of the cousins who were watching him cheerfully sand off layers of his feet.”
“The poor little ones!” Fourth Cousin clicked in distress.
“They were positively waxy wither horror,” Second Sister stated grimly. “When I got them away I asked them why they didn’t leave the Fifteenth Cousin said it wouldn’t have been polite to leave a Fathers’ friend alone.”
“So you are going ask First Father Dickson to stop sanding his feet in the gardens?” Fourth Sister asked.
“He got blood and dead skin in First Father’s favorite compost heap,” Second Sister stated seemingly irrelevantly.
There was a long pause and as the shock wore off Fourth Sister couldn’t help thinking of her task at hand, and the fact that dealing with complex social issues was really a Second Sister kind of job. Second Sister must have caught the direction of her attention because she gave one amused click and stalked out of the workshop. Fourth Sister mindfully waited for the door to chime shut before she put on her safety wrap. Before she activated the sander she examined the rough surface and for a moment a vivid image of pressing it to her bare feet flashed in her mind and she felt her frill go waxy. What had the human previously known as Brother Unicus Dickky been thinking?

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What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
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 Humans are Weird – Sparklers


The textureless walls of the starbase thrummed with a pleasantly asymmetric mechanical rumble today and Tck’stk felt the relief easing into his paws with every step he took along the spider walk. The human engineers back in Sol had been immensely proud of what they proclaimed to be a zero waste engine embedded in a highly absorbent frame. In their wild and seemingly gene deep need for efficiency they had eliminated very conducted sound from the latest generation of vessels. That the dead silence of the compartments in the ship drove every species save the Undulates to near madness in a short time had somehow been an unforeseen consequence to a species that thrived on constant stimulation.
Tck’stk espied the Chief of Sound Design staring out one of the great observation ports that lined the ship. Skc’chch was holding a steaming mug of some herbal tea and taking the occasional sip. Tck’stk felt a well of gratitude towards the smooth old engineer who had solved the issue of the sound-dead base so quickly and skittered over happily to his side.
“Greetings Chief Skc’chch!” Tck’stk called out. “I wanted to compliment you on the sound profile today. It sounds just like a ship should sound! Not a bit too natural-”
Tck’stk cut off his gratitude suddenly as the view of the blurry starlight field was suddenly disrupted by an explosion of color. A core of red erupted into rings of orange, yellow, green, and finally violet before dispersing, only to be followed by a thousand white explosions so close to the viewing window that Tck’stk would have sworn that he heard the impact of the debris against the view port. A shower of searing green lights then shot past, burning in short, intense coils before extinguishing just as another lit.
Chief Skc’chch angled his body so that his main cones of focal vision fell on Tck’stk. The engineer’s mandibles were politely set to invite the younger Trisk to continue his thought.
“The sounds,” Tck’stk stated, trying to keep his attention on what he had been saying, “they are nice today. I like that that artificial machine sounds don’t just repeat…”
He completely rotated his body away from Chief Skc’chch and braced his legs against the spider walk as a dim indigo streaks appeared and very visibly impacted the view port leaving ashy smears momentarily across the view-field. The smears were gone in moments and Tck’stk was left staring in confusion at the next display of light and color.
“The nano-droids clear the ash up fast!” came the warm breathy voice of a mammal just behind him.
Tck’stk smoothed down his hairs as he bristled in irritiation. There was no reason to assume that the human had seen him conversing with Chief Skc’chch and he was hardly holding up his end of a polite public conversation, and what the human had offered was relevant information.
“So thank you,” Tck’stk finished with a rather helpless gesture of a gripping paw.
He waited the traditional six clicks for the response and Chief Skc’chch slowly bobbed his head with an amused set to his mandibles.
“You are more than welcome Friend Tck’stk,” the old one said. “I am pleased to bring my specialty to the aid of a crew in such dire need.”
Flaming orange spirals danced outside the viewport.
“While there is still much to be done the human crew have proved themselves more than willing to adapt to our needs as well as fulfill their own,” Chief Skc’chch finished, bringing the mug of tea up to his mandibles for a sip.
Tck’stk let far more than the six polite clicks pass as white rockets shot off, far out of his range of vision into the blurry distance of the star field.
“May I ask,” he began hesitantly, “do you know….forgive my frayed thoughts and words but what is going on out there?”
Chief Skc’chch’s smooth old mandibles twitched up in amusement as he too let more than the six clicks of thought pass.
“The humans,” he said slowly and clearly, “are being efficient.”
Tck’stk let his mind worry over that with irritation as he pondered the chief’s meaning in the thinking time. That meant the humans were trying to achieve at least one incidental goal along with one primary or intended goal. Normally he would assume that the chaotic explosions outside the view port would have been and entirely unintended consequence of whatever the goal was, however the tight patters were far too ordered. Which suggested that they might be the incidental goal. Fast on this however followed another thought and this one, despite being quite in line with his knowledge of human behavior was staggering enough to warrant discussion.
“Are the explosions their primary goal or some redundancy?” he asked, edging away from the view port.
Chief Skc’chch gave a rippling chitter of amusement at that.
“I believe that their primary goal in this case was the disposal of post digestion food waste,” Chief Skc’chch stated.
“Don’t the mammals usually recycle that via bacterial digestion and plant growth?” Tck’stk asked after a long confused moment.
Chief Skc’chch waved a paw in confirmation through the steam of his tea.
“They do that,” he said, “That is why the gardens are so lush on this base. However the base processes so many unvetted mammals on a daily basis that they have an abundance of biological waste, most of which can’t be trusted in the gardens without cost prohibitive contaminate testing.”
“So they space it towards the nearest planet with an atmosphere?” Tck’stk asked, but then saw the flaw in that. “That would not connect with these-”
He cut off as a billowing orange cloud erupted across the view port.
“-these.” he finished, wishing he plentiful hairs didn’t bristle quite so obviously.
“No,” Skc’chch agreed. “That would not provide this, what I am assured is quite a pleasing display to humans.”
“A display of exploding, burning waste matter?” Tck’stk demanded, forgetting the proper pause in his shock.
Fortunately the old engineer didn’t seem to notice.
“Once it is thoroughly dedicated, and the pure water reclaimed the matter burns quite efficiently for the most part,” Skc’chch pointed out, “and my human colleagues insist that humans like any form of pretty lights for environment enrichment. This also gives them a chance to dispose of the toxic oxidizing waste from the fuel byproducts.”
Tck’stk stared dumbly out the view port as something that had once been food lit with brilliant purple flame in the vacuum of space.  

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What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
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​ Humans are Weird – Duck and Go


“These observation decks are a curious addition to the bases,” Liftsupwards said as he stirred his nutrient slurry idly with one appendage. “I propose to ask Ranger Dodge about it once he returns from sampling the current captured dorganism.”
The slurry he had chose today was one of the few whose taste drifted more towards delightful than merely palatable. It was warm and savory like the free floating algae that bloomed on the seafloor of the shallow reefs. Despite having only one appendage trailing in the cup that held it the taste and texture was engaging most of his attention leaving little to contemplate the sharp lights that glittered overhead.
“Yes,” his companion responded, “I believe that they were something of a mistake on the human engineer’s part.”
Thrustsfirmly had no fewer than six of his appendages crammed into his nutrient cup in an obvious attempt to consume the contents as quickly as possible. Liftsupwards wondered if his new companion had chosen one of the less delightful nutrient packs. Whatever might be the cause of Thrustsfirmly giving less attention to his nutrients his free appendages were spread wide in an attempt to examine the dome of reinforced material above them.
“A mistake?” Liftsupwards asked angling a few appendages in a querying gesture.
“From what Ranger Dodge has told me the domes are quite fully transparent to human eyes,” Thrustsfirmly explained. “This, glittering opacity only appears to our photo receptors.”
“Is it opaque to any other species?” Liftsupwards asked.
“It has tested out as fully transparent to Shatar, Trisk, and Winged,” Thrustsfirmly stated. “The reptilian species don’t post individuals in planetless drifts like this and the Gathering-” Thrustsfirmly shrugged and gave an expansive gesture.
“I have never heard of a Gathering traveling through space,” Liftsupwards said following the flow of the gesture. “That is somewhat odd now that I think of it. Perhaps they only travel to new worlds in spore form?”
“Do Gathering have spore forms?” Thrustsfirmly asked, his body stiffening with sudden interest.
“I assumed they do,” Liftsupwards said, “however now I ponder I realize that is just my assumption. I take it you are also ignorant as to how they reproduce?”
“I am,” Thrustsfirmly agreed. “That added to the mystery of their dispersal and the question of how they achieved interstellar dispersal has led many to assume a spore phase, perhaps even a spaceborn spore phase, but there is extremely little known and they are not exactly forthcoming with their information. That is part of the reason I requested time at this research station. The space-whales-”
The mildly disturbing trills of a low level alert vibrated through the base and Liftsupwards instantly bent half his appendages to examine his tablet. Thrusts firmly removed a few appendages from his nearly empty cup and angled himself to show polite attention.
“An unexpected but nonthreatening particle shower is going to pass over the base and the probe network,” Liftsupwards announced after a moment. “It is already striking the outer fringe of probes. Ranger Dodge is in no danger?”
“His personal shielding is more than rated for this,” Thurstsfirmly said as Liftsupwards idly scrolled through the warnings. “He shouldn’t even be able to feel the impact on his cranial shielding, though the larger frozen particulates might cause his limbs some discomfort. I have sent the required safety check as a matter of drift.”
Thrustsfirmly abandoned his almost finished nutrients to shuffle over to the wall controls and activate the viewing screen that had been added for their use.
“Why did the humans install the shielding for observation use if they knew it wouldn’t be transparent to us?” Liftsupards asked, resuming the original drift of their conversation.
“It was transparent to us when they did the initial testing,” Thrustsfirmly said. “Well, perhaps not entirely transparent, I seem to recall feeling that there was a bit of scattering. This obfuscation is a result of materials reaction with the constant particle bombardment experienced in a nebula.”
“Then what was the original mistake?” Liftsupwards asked.
“That the humans did not think to test the materials under conditions that would be common to its function,” Thrustsfirmly said.
The screen system activated and displayed the swirling colors of the nebula outside of the station, the bright points of each probe that formed the network, and the seething glittering mass that showed where Ranger Dodge was tagging and taking samples from the space whale currently entangles in the net. The appearance of the whole was odd to say the least. Like the standard night sky over any lagoon, but somehow different just out of his ability to describe.
“There has been much poetry written on the unease of staring into space without the natural filter of an atmosphere,” Liftsupwards observed idly.
“Touch me gently and give me warning if you feel the urge to add too it while on the base,” Thurstsfirmly stated with an amused ripple to his motions.
Liftsupwards felt an amused ripple flow through his appendages as he regretfully noted the savory nutrient broth was near the bottom of the cup.
“No fear of that,” he replied.
His tablet chimed.
“Ranger Dodge replied that he is aware of the particulates. He sees no danger in them and intends to finish the sampling before returning to the station by tether leaps.” Liftsupwards announced.
“Isn’t he aware of the danger of the pain?” Thrustsfirmly asked, returning to his half full cup even as they angled their appendages to observe what was transpiring out in the nebula.
“I would assume so,” Liftsupwards stated. “He has been out in many such storms. Perhaps he is confident in his ability to respond appropriately to the storm as it arrives?”
The particle storm was beginning to grow visible by the way the glowing gasses of the nebula sparked and shivered upstream of the net. The bright, reflective worksuit that Ranger Dodge wore mad him easily visible even at the distance the space whale was from the station as he gracefully flitted around the massive creature.
Liftsupwards’s tablet chimed as it accepted the latest datapoint from the Ranger and on the screen Ranger Dodge paused atop the probe platform to release the space whale. He had almost finished freeing the creature when the particle storm reached them. The space whale reacted with barely perceptible twitching while Ranger Dodge momentarily flailed, loosing his projected grace as the ice particles struck the thinner armor over his arms and legs. However the experienced Ranger quickly righted himself and released the unperturbed space whale back into the stream. The space whale drifted slowly away, what was visible through the nebula of its outer layer flexing and pulsing as it seemed to enjoy the shower of ice particles. Ranger Dodge however had near frantically secured his tether to the next probe and was hurtling back though the dust, his primary gripping appendages wrapped around his head.
Liftsupwards noted that Thurstsfirmly was rippling so hard with amusement that he was having trouble getting his appendages back into his nutrient cup.
“Is it quite the moral stroke to be amused by another sapient being’s suffering?” Liftsupwards asked.
“I don’t see you tightening up in distress,” Thrustsfirmly replied. “Flowing beside that, Ranger Dodge is in no danger. If he arranged his appendages in the shadow of his cranial shielding he would be experiencing no discomfort at all. He is just floundering a bit because despite our warning he was too focused on gathering data points and failed to mentally prepare himself to meet the storm.”
“So there is nothing morally adrift about enjoying the show?” Liftsupwards asked.
“Not an Und,” Thrustsfirmly assured him. “Observe, even now he arranges his appendages properly.”
As the other had said the human had pulled his four great appendages into the shadow of his dense cranial shielding and was letting the tether pull him towards the base. In a short time he reached the air lock and the base was trembling with the steady double beat of his bipedal locomotion. Liftsupwards was afraid that they were still rippling with amusement when he passed through the observation deck because Ranger Dodge only glanced at them and then heaved a massive sigh even as he rolled his eyes.
“It is quite amazing how they can express so much with such a limited range of movement,” Thrustsfirmly observed.
“Quite,” Liftsupwards agreed.  

Please go and leave a new rating and review on my 2nd book! 
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What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 180 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
AMAZON

Kaiju No. 8 Chapter 68 - Full Spoilers Review & Analysis - Things Dead and Things Not So Dead
Youtube
https://youtu.be/0bpsxc0Rf0s 
BitChute
https://www.bitchute.com/video/QnQ0NPf5YF8C/ 
Odysee
https://odysee.com/@BettyAdams:5/kaiju-no.-8-chapter-68-full-spoilers:f 
Rumble
https://rumble.com/v1f4gxo-kaiju-no.-8-chapter-68-full-spoilers-review-and-analysis-things-dead-and-th.html 
Veoh
https://www.veoh.com/watch/v142216134qcP4G5bF 
Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08S2VT2TC  
#ShonenJump #Kafka #Kikoru #Isao #KN8

Please go and leave a new rating and review on my 2nd book! 
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Walmart
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten
​
What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 180 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
AMAZON

Kaiju No. 8 Chapter 68 - No Spoilers Review & Analysis - A Slap to the Face Three Times Over
Youtube
https://youtu.be/yiFOZP8R7Eo 
BitChute
https://www.bitchute.com/video/RnI4U5Rok2qy/ 
Odysee
https://odysee.com/@BettyAdams:5/kaiju-no.-8-chapter-68-no-spoilers:7 
Rumble
https://rumble.com/c/c-1429014 
Veoh
https://www.veoh.com/watch/v142215556WZnDDTqg 
Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08S2VT2TC 
#ShonenJump #Kafka #Kikoru #Isao #KN8

Please go and leave a new rating and review on my 2nd book! 
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Walmart
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten
​
What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 180 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition for the same price as the crowdfunding campaign $35 domestic and $60 overseas. I'll do that until I run out of extra books.
AMAZON