Volcanoes
By Betty Adams
​
“Commander,” the Investigator ran his primary leg over his optic frills in exasperation, “I freely acknowledge that your authority on this mission is nearly absolute.”
The larger and more powerful Commander bristled in agitation and pulled his legs in stiffly in anticipation of a reprimand.  The Investigator fought down a chitter of exasperation and turned his attention briefly to the report in his secondary leg to gather his thoughts. The small tent they were currently in flapped in the breeze and the Investigator wondered at the strange structure. This entire situation was…odd. The exploration of the newly discovered planet was supposed to have been a reward to one of the Cluster’s most distinguished warriors. A restful examination of a world that the smooth headed elders of the Cluster had no real expectation of winning. True, this new species added a new complication and they had landed disturbingly close on the same landmass. But none of that explained Commander Trill’th’s bizarre behavior. The only thing that stood between Trill’th and a court marshal at this point was his sterling record. No one in the Cluster hierarchy wanted to believe that the Hero of Tsoons was capable of treason.
“Now you say that turning control of the main computer nodes over to the technician from the human camp was justified due to the threat of imminent death to both your crew and the crew of the Flighted?”  The Investigator asked.
“It is all in my report,” Commander Trill’th hissed in irritation.
“Yes, yes,” the Investigator agreed. “But I am afraid that the death of your Archivist has left the state of the records quite disordered.”
Trill’th twitched his mandibles in agreement and grief flicked across his eyes. The Investigator decided to put that investigation to the side for the moment. Exposure was the only listed cause of death and the genuine terror, confusion, and sadness he had observed in the crew led him to believe that what had happened to the young clerk was indeed an accident.
“I simply wanted to clarify-“ the Investigator was interrupted as a loud clicking alarm snapped through the air.
The Commander reacted without hesitation, darting from the tent at full speed to investigate the alarm. The Investigator suppressed another irritated chitter and began to gather his papers back into his carrying case. He arranged it on his back and followed the path of the Commander out, tasting the fear spiked pheromones Trill’th had left on the pads of his motile legs. He found the Commander and the rest of the surviving officers clustered at the edge of the absurdly tall security fence. The crew was focused on a rapidly approaching figure. From the well beaten path that led out across the grassy plain away from the camp this was a well used route. Almost a full road if it wasn’t for the lack of pavement. But the size of the approaching vehicle was explanation enough for the size.
“That is a human,” the Investigator observed in what he hoped was a neutral voice as he reached the cluster of officers.
“Sergeant Angelo,” Commander Trill’th informed him curtly. “Male, barely into prime breeding age, generally friendly and very open to interspecies interaction.”
“And is that one of those helicopters you mentioned?” The Investigator asked. He knew very well that it wasn’t but the exasperated looks he received told him that the ploy had worked. A display of ignorance not specific to one’s line of work made others see one as less of a threat.
“It’s is a motorcycle.” On the technicians informed him. “The interesting thing? Even though it has no gyroscopic balance system it stays upright. The human has to constantly keep adjusting his position to maintain velocity.”
The Investigator signaled his understanding and approached the Commander directly.
“Are you going to let him into the camp?” the Investigator asked quietly.
“Yes,” Trill’th answered in a flat tone.
“What security measures are you taking?” the Investigator asked cautiously.
Trill’th spun on him and raised his primary manipulating legs aggressively. “Letting the human in is a security measure.”
The Investigator carefully kept his body language neutral. “How so?”
“Do you see the flag on the back of the motorcycle?” Trill’th demanded.
The Investigator turned his eyes towards the approaching machine and its giant rider. “I do,” he agreed.
“It reflects light in the six hundred nano-meter range. That means that whatever news he brings ignoring it could kill us!” The Commander snarled.
The Investigator signaled his assent carefully. This situation was clearly beyond his current understanding and he needed more information before he acted. The motorcycle drew closer and the tension was rising in the small cluster when the ground began to shake. The Investigator stiffened and looked around frantically. The cluster tightened around him and the Commander rested and comforting led on his head.
“Steady,” the Commander warned.
“What is that to the south?” one of the lesser officers demanded.
They all turned and began to chitter as they saw the growing plume of …something.
“Is that smoke?” The Investigator asked fighting back his terror.
“The human probably knows,” Trill’th offered. “It is unlikely that the red flag and this is unrelated.”
“He had stopped!”  The Investigator observed.
“The ground movement must have interfered with his movement.” Trill’th speculated.
The giant biped was indeed stopped. He – if the Commander was correct on the human’s sex – was standing on the still rolling ground easily holding up the weight of the two-wheeled machine. The Investigator felt a thrill of unease at the casual display of raw strength. The human –Sergeant Angelo- made a few quick movements and the motorcycle was left standing on its own while he switched out the so called red flag with one that appeared to reflect in the high five-hundred nano-meter range. The small cluster visibly relaxed and the Investigator  looked to the Commander for explanation, lightly tapping the Commander’s optic frills for an explanation.
“That is an orange flag,” Trill’th explained. “It signifies a lesser but still potentially deadly threat.”
“He has slowed,” the Investigator observed.
“Whatever that,” Trill’th waved to the growing pillar of ... something … “was it might have been far worse. He was coming to warn us of it. I assume you cut off outside communication when you arrived?”
“As is protocol,” the Investigator replied uneasily.
“Well you didn’t get us killed,” chattered the Commander. “Let’s go find out what horror the humans are intimately aware of this time.”
The Investigator signaled his assent as they moved towards the gate. Perhaps the fearsome reputation that preceded the humans was less fiction than he had presumed. That aside, he glanced nervously at the billowing pillar of smoke like substance, the Commander’s strange orders were beginning to seem more likely to be legitimate. They would have to wait and see.  The motorcycle rolled to a stop outside the gate and the human strode in as it opened for him.
“That was some volcano hey?” he asked flashing his teeth at them widely as he pulled up the protective coverings that had been shield his luminous tri-colored eyes. “Hey-what?”
The cluster sprinted forward and raced up the giant bi-ped’s legs to perch on his shoulders. The Investigator followed along observing carefully. The human tensed, what was visible of his soft supple skin grew tight and then relaxed as the individuals of the cluster stilled and clung to him.
“So…never seen an eruption before eh?” the human asked.
“Angelo,” the Commander demanded in the human’s language, running out onto the human’s arm so he could stare into the human’s newly revealed eyes. “What in the name of the Home Cluster was that?” He waved at the still growing plume.
“Just the planet releasing some pressure,” the human answered. “We were worried it might be real big though. Barring any other information it should be fine now. Good for the scientists and no one died right?” The human flashed his teeth again.
The Investigator wondered if that was supposed to be a comforting gesture as the Commander worked to get more specific details out of the human. The Commander’s behavior was odd, but if the planet itself was flinging smoke into the sky… The Investigator shuddered as the human swayed in response to the ground moving again. He somehow doubted that he would be able to justify persecuting Trill’th. 

So it is hard to write a good blog post when a job makes your whole body hurt....

Apparently day two of a flu bug involves ninjas sneaking in and beating you with sticks when you aren't looking. 

A tiny little germ lives in a body the way that a human lives in or on a planet. This is the theme of several important works of science fiction. Not "Dying Embers". But some bug in this author is messing with this author's ability to write and focus. 

According to the attendees of the San Diego Comic Con CNN will be premiering the latest entry in the Star Trek Universes this coming January. 
Sadly this author's first thought was tat I will have to change the working title of the "Dying Embers" prequel...

“Where are you going with that flotation device?” Quilx’tch asked his friend as the human passed by carrying a currently un-inflated raft.
Quilx’tch was quite proud of himself for being able to identify the device. After all emergency safety equipment was not really in the traditional scope of a nutritional anthropologist. However when one worked with human one learned to expand ones horizons.
“The satellites are finally working over this area and from the looks of it there’s some awesome whitewater just south of here on the Widow Maker.” The human replied with a grin. Shifting the giant device easily on one shoulder. “Smitty and me are going to try it out.”
Quilx’tch carefully flexed the legs on one side to tilt his head in the manner that let the human know he was considering his words. “White” was the term the humans used for their inability to distinguish between the visible color spectrum when several wavelengths were present at one time, how this modified ‘water’ was uncertain.
“So why are you doing this?” Quilx’tch asked curiously.
“Cuz it’s gonna be fun!” the human replied with a wide and eager grin. “Hey! You want to come? It should be safe enough.”
Quilx’tch was sorely tempted to join in the recreation but every hair on his exoskeleton decided to fully extend at that moment.
“Awe, that is so cute when you do that!” the human crooned in genuine admiration and from the way his fingers were twitching Quilx’tch guessed he was fighting the urge to pet the anthropologist with his free hand.
“I am afraid I must decline,” Quilx’tch. “I have to prepare for a presentation.”
“Well have fun with that you geek,” the human flung the friendly insult at him cheerfully, and Quilx’tch chattered happily at his retreating back.
He had worked long and hard to integrate himself into the humans’ social structure and that they felt comfortable enough around him to revert to their habitual behavior pleased him to no end. Normally he tried to participate in as much of their recreational activities as he could but…
“Safe enough” paired with “fun” usually translated into “there is a greater than 80% chance that I can bring you back alive from this situation” usually followed by “hey, you can regenerate limbs right?”
For the moment Quilx’tch was quite content to go look up “white-water” and “flotation device” in the database for now. 

Surprisingly this is not the remains of a tourist who asked one too many questions of a tired Park Employee who was not a ranger and should not have been answering questions....
Nope this is the famous Watermelon Snow. Colonies of Chlamydomonas nivalis gathering together as the snow melts. Now in a story this would either have great emotional meaning or potent power.
How does this creature survive once the snow melts? 

A Whitebark Pinecone in the early stages, The birds pretty much need chisels to get at those nuts.

A popular meme in science fiction is the concept of alternate universes. A group of characters encounters some magic or scientific handwaving that results with them interacting another group that hails from a universe where everything is slightly different; a different cultural ethos prevails, a central character died or survived some catastrophe. Most writers have the characters being fairly freaked out and not dealing with the situation well. But what if the characters came from a large family? 
Is there suddenly someone in your life that looks a lot like you, shares the same (or a very similar) name, and is slightly different? To any one who interacted with an extended family this isn't anything new. This is just cousin Sam at the family reunion. Sharing a face with a stranger is pretty much expected. 
An interesting twist would be most of the crew being freaked out but the one character from a large family just shrugged it off, decides on alternating names and starts calling his/her double 'cousin'. 

Just a note to remind people that babies are almost always a surefire way to inspire feelings of warmth and arouse protective instincts. Even and especially alien babies.