Quilx’tch idly sipped at his broth as he read through the report in front of him. The warm taste washed through him and he let the sensation go all the way to his paws, stretching and flexing them comfortably against his squatting pad. A mass printed thing the pad did not have a truly natural texture but it was easy enough on his paw-hairs and didn’t catch at his claws. An indistinct form came through the door behind him but didn’t indicate by either gesture or stance that it needed attention so Quilx’tch kept his main eyes focused on the report in front of him. He was resetting the form for the fifth time when the form finally got close enough to resolve into Fst’stk, the local safety officer, and approached him with the clear desire to communicated, but holding his own drinking pipe in such a way as to offer silent communion as an alternate option. Quilx’tch clicked in amused frustration and rotated to put the approaching Trisk in his primary cone of vision.
“Excellent weather for reading as the humans say,” Quilx’tch greeted him.
Fst’stk took a perfectly polite six seconds before responding with words but his chelicerae twitched with tired amusement as he sipped at his own drink. The storm that was still rocking the smaller structures on the base had been raging for several days now and was extremely limiting to scientific endeavors. The safety officer was perhaps the only member of the base personnel whose duties were not reduced, but rather redirected.
“If only more of them were merely reading,” Fst’stk replied.
Another comfortable silence stretched out and Quilx’tch remained quiet, flicking though the document he had been examining. Fst’stk clearly had a low priority question to ask and eventually he did, indicating the screen with a wave of his free paw.
“And what has you so puzzled?” Fst’stk asked.
Quilx’tch gave a wry little chitter of amusement and turned his main cone of vision back on the screen bringing the human text into sharp focus.
“I am attempting,” he said, drawing a long sigh over his lung, “to determine if this is a ‘serious’ publication, on that should be filed with formal human awards and announcements, or simply a ‘sarcastic’ joke.”
“It does not appear to be exactly nutrient related,” Fst’stk observed idly.
Quilx’tch paused a little longer than necessary to wait for the groans of the building resisting the wind to quiet before he answered, though he was quite ready for this thought thread, or rather web in its complexity.
“There is one entry on culinary arts,” he observed, “but, no, this is not for work. I am simply curious, and attempting to expand my understanding of human culture.”
Fst’stk shuffled his rearmost legs to indicated that he was ready to listen to a prolonged explanation and Quilx’tch pulled up the title of the document.
“Murphy’s Safety Awards,” Quilx’tch read out loud and then paused in case the safety officer wanted to interject.
Quilx’tch didn’t know for a fact that Fst’stk was aware of the cultural implications of that name, but it would be unlikely for a safety officer to be ignorant. From the way Fst’stk slumped at his joints and rubbed his primary eyes he did recognize the name, but all he said was,
“I am unfamiliar with that award system.”
Quilx’tch gave a chitter of amusement and pulled up the first entry.
“It is local to the next planet over in the system,” he explained, “and it was only with the new communications system that including this planet in the awards was feasible. The purpose seems to be to reward humans who lead to improvements in safety procedures. This is the first time applications from this base were allowed. Engineer First Class Thomas Frank for instance,” Quilx’tch paused again in case Fst’stk wanted to interject but other than a brief shudder at the name the safety officer showed no interest in speaking, “is nominated for exposing the weakness in the safety systems relating to how the communications masts are secured. The entry most applicable to my profession, and the one that made me turn my cone this way, is Nutritional Specialist Susan Faraday, nominated for actions leading to the discovery of the dangers of mixing the protective mucus of the local fish species with the acidic secretions of imported Shatar vegetative matter.”
Fst’stk poised himself to indicate that he needed a moment to process this, and after a long silence and several sips at his drink he said slowly.
“So this award system focuses on humans who made stupid mistakes in their jobs?”
Quilx’tch gave a rueful click.
“There seems to be a second required element,” he pointed out. “In each case the mistake revealed a failure in the ability of the safety systems to make up for the error, and led to alterations in the safety procedures.”
Fst’stk slumped down and tapped his paws thoughtfully on the floor. Finally, his bowl empty he heaved a sigh and gave a stretch that indicated he needed to leave.
“Let me know if you figure out how seriously the humans take these awards,” Fst’stk finally said.
“I will,” Quilx’tch agreed.
“And forward me the document please,” Fst’stk said, “this seems to be something I should be keeping at least a few degrees of my sight on.”