Humans are Weird - If It Fits
Seventeenth Trill fluttered into the welcoming coolness of the base, with its scent of stal mammal and dry dirt, leaving the blistering heat of the outdoors behind him with a shudder. His sensory horns had not been even normally sensitive ever since that radiation incident on one of the outlying space stations, but for the moment they stung as if he was some softhorn still fluffy from his mother’s last grooming. With a weary sigh he angled towards the counter where the multitool that was supposed to be a simple external sensor was supposed to be sitting. It was clear long before he got there there that the large device was missing, but out of habit he gave a perplexed click and the rebounding sound slapped against his horns painfully. He landed less than gracefully on the counter and rubbed his horns absently with the soft skin of his wing while glancing blearily around the cavernous entry way. The base had originally been more than well enough funded and stocked when the Winged had arrived on this planet, but somehow more rangers kept arriving, needing housing and feeding and medical attention and the supply shipments always seemed to be a few wing beats behind them. Every tool had to be made multipurpose even if that wasn’t in its original specs. The sensor now doubled as a biometric reader to log rangers in and out of the base. It was designed for extreme condition weather observations, had a surface that absorbed quite a range of sound waves, making it a bit difficult to spot with echolocation, but it reflected most light making it easy to spot on the dark floor. Seventeenth Trill glared around the floor around the counter and cast an uneasy look at the piles of human clothing stacked on the bench. If it was under there finding it was going to be a journey in of it self. With a sigh he flung himself back into the air on his aching joints and gave the room a quick sounding. Rather to his surprise and relief something caught his attention immediately.
Just to the side of the door there was a small shelf. It was caused by a mismatch in the door and the wall, both prefabricated items not meant to be used together but forced into a useful alignment. The space was too small to be useful, even by Winged standards and the material of the inner wall just happened to closely match the sensor in color. Had Seventeenth Trill not been so familiar with the odd echo that section of the wall gave he might not have noticed the sensor at all. Feeling even more puzzled than before he flew up to the sensor and smacked it irritably. The long oblong gave an obliging chirp as it registered his signature, and then a dissatisfied bleat as it noticed he was over heated. Seventeenth Trill snarled at it and hit the override before ducking his head and pulling the carry harness over it. Technically the sensory was light enough to carry in his feet, but it was much easier to center the mass and he was exhausted. He landed back on the counter, yanked the harness off his head after a few failed attempts, and shoved it into the proper position. A vague mental thermal drifted between his horns regarding who exactly thought it was a good idea to put the sensor there, but the soft cooling attraction of a dust bath was luring him deeper into the base and the thought dispersed rather quickly.
It was five days later when it happened again and Seventeenth Trill gave an exasperated chirp as he examined the situation. Previously the attached harness had been sticking out and had made it easy to move the sensor. However this time the harness was folded under and between the sensor and the wall. As the sensor almost completely filled the space it was quite the scramble to pull the harness out while not knocking the sensor to the floor, or falling off the narrow space himself and he skinned several knuckles in the process and left more than a little fur on the rough wall. The third time it happened Seventeenth Trill simply grabbed the wall and kicked the sensor to the floor. He grimly mused that if it was rated to be thrown into a flowing stream that couldn’t hurt it. He used his feet to drop it back on it designated place on the counter and flew off in a huff to the security booth.
The local flora and fauna were both fairly safe and there were no settlements near, so they had no designated security officer. It took Seventeenth Trill some few hours to first find the security footage, find a camera that actually functioned and gave a good view of the entry way, and figure out how to set the internal programs to track the movements of the sensor in order to discover who was moving the sensor. The first incident to his surprise dated several weeks before he had first found the sensor in the odd place. One Ranger Jones had come in, covered in mud which dated the event as weeks ago before the dry season even if there was a question about the meta-data. The human had been rather slow in shedding his protective outer layers and had been absently staring about even before he picked up the sensor to clock in. It seemed pure chance that his eye had caught on the odd ledge and he had smiled a bit, but almost absently set the sensor in the space. The next human who came in, One Ranger Frost had noted the sensor missing from the counter and had spent nearly half an hour searching for it, Frost had clearly had the same thought about it being under the clothing as Seventeenth Trill had, and had wildly disrupted the organization of the room before finding the sensor and replacing it on the counter.
A few times the analytical sub-routines noted the sensor being moved significantly more distant from its intended location it had been dropped, or set on the bench, but time after time some human spotted the ledge, smiled and set the sensor in it. Some of them removed the sensor and returned it to its location after they had set it there, but it usually fell to the next human to search for, find, and replace the double use sensor. Seventeenth Trill stared at the screen in perplexity. If so many humans were displaying the behavior, it was not even a simple majority of the base, but is was a significant minority, there was likely some point to it. He shook himself out and checked the last known location of Ranger Jones. He found the man busily tearing apart a decaying tree, seemingly with his own raw strength and chirped loud and low for his attention. The human glanced up at him and grinned through his protective face covering.
“What’s up Seventeen?” he asked, standing and stretching his back.
“Why do you keep putting the entry sensor on that ledge by the door?” Seventeenth Trill demanded, deciding to get right to the point.
Ranger Jones blinked at him and his breathing slowed as he thought over the question.
“I did do that,” he said slowly. “Once?” The end of the word rose in confusion and he tilted his head curiously at Seventeenth Trill.
“You humans,” Seventeenth Trill said with a wave of one wing hook. “It keeps getting put up there.”
Ranger Jones nodded slowly and send the air around them gusting about with a deep breath. His hands made a clicking sound as they flexed in their protective gloves and Seventeenth Trill noted that the gloves boasted some augmentation that was presumably helping to break up the rotting log.
“Welp,” Ranger Jones said, reaching up as if to scratch the back of his neck, and then seeming to think better of it, “I can only speak for myself, but it fit.”
Seventeenth Trill stared at him waiting for the rest of the explanation. However Ranger Jones seemed to consider that enough and bent back over the log.
“You set the sensor in the place because it fit in the space?” Seventeenth Trill demanded.
“It fit perfectly,” Ranger Jones went on. “Like the space was made for the sensor. I can see how that would be annoying though. I’ll spread the word to leave the sensor be if it’s causing trouble.”
At that the human began tearing apart the log and Seventeenth Trill flew back towards the house. Ranger Jones was respected among the humans and this would resolve the problem. But the Winged was still no closer to understanding what about the ledge being the ‘perfect shape’ induced the humans to set the sensor there.”
Just to the side of the door there was a small shelf. It was caused by a mismatch in the door and the wall, both prefabricated items not meant to be used together but forced into a useful alignment. The space was too small to be useful, even by Winged standards and the material of the inner wall just happened to closely match the sensor in color. Had Seventeenth Trill not been so familiar with the odd echo that section of the wall gave he might not have noticed the sensor at all. Feeling even more puzzled than before he flew up to the sensor and smacked it irritably. The long oblong gave an obliging chirp as it registered his signature, and then a dissatisfied bleat as it noticed he was over heated. Seventeenth Trill snarled at it and hit the override before ducking his head and pulling the carry harness over it. Technically the sensory was light enough to carry in his feet, but it was much easier to center the mass and he was exhausted. He landed back on the counter, yanked the harness off his head after a few failed attempts, and shoved it into the proper position. A vague mental thermal drifted between his horns regarding who exactly thought it was a good idea to put the sensor there, but the soft cooling attraction of a dust bath was luring him deeper into the base and the thought dispersed rather quickly.
It was five days later when it happened again and Seventeenth Trill gave an exasperated chirp as he examined the situation. Previously the attached harness had been sticking out and had made it easy to move the sensor. However this time the harness was folded under and between the sensor and the wall. As the sensor almost completely filled the space it was quite the scramble to pull the harness out while not knocking the sensor to the floor, or falling off the narrow space himself and he skinned several knuckles in the process and left more than a little fur on the rough wall. The third time it happened Seventeenth Trill simply grabbed the wall and kicked the sensor to the floor. He grimly mused that if it was rated to be thrown into a flowing stream that couldn’t hurt it. He used his feet to drop it back on it designated place on the counter and flew off in a huff to the security booth.
The local flora and fauna were both fairly safe and there were no settlements near, so they had no designated security officer. It took Seventeenth Trill some few hours to first find the security footage, find a camera that actually functioned and gave a good view of the entry way, and figure out how to set the internal programs to track the movements of the sensor in order to discover who was moving the sensor. The first incident to his surprise dated several weeks before he had first found the sensor in the odd place. One Ranger Jones had come in, covered in mud which dated the event as weeks ago before the dry season even if there was a question about the meta-data. The human had been rather slow in shedding his protective outer layers and had been absently staring about even before he picked up the sensor to clock in. It seemed pure chance that his eye had caught on the odd ledge and he had smiled a bit, but almost absently set the sensor in the space. The next human who came in, One Ranger Frost had noted the sensor missing from the counter and had spent nearly half an hour searching for it, Frost had clearly had the same thought about it being under the clothing as Seventeenth Trill had, and had wildly disrupted the organization of the room before finding the sensor and replacing it on the counter.
A few times the analytical sub-routines noted the sensor being moved significantly more distant from its intended location it had been dropped, or set on the bench, but time after time some human spotted the ledge, smiled and set the sensor in it. Some of them removed the sensor and returned it to its location after they had set it there, but it usually fell to the next human to search for, find, and replace the double use sensor. Seventeenth Trill stared at the screen in perplexity. If so many humans were displaying the behavior, it was not even a simple majority of the base, but is was a significant minority, there was likely some point to it. He shook himself out and checked the last known location of Ranger Jones. He found the man busily tearing apart a decaying tree, seemingly with his own raw strength and chirped loud and low for his attention. The human glanced up at him and grinned through his protective face covering.
“What’s up Seventeen?” he asked, standing and stretching his back.
“Why do you keep putting the entry sensor on that ledge by the door?” Seventeenth Trill demanded, deciding to get right to the point.
Ranger Jones blinked at him and his breathing slowed as he thought over the question.
“I did do that,” he said slowly. “Once?” The end of the word rose in confusion and he tilted his head curiously at Seventeenth Trill.
“You humans,” Seventeenth Trill said with a wave of one wing hook. “It keeps getting put up there.”
Ranger Jones nodded slowly and send the air around them gusting about with a deep breath. His hands made a clicking sound as they flexed in their protective gloves and Seventeenth Trill noted that the gloves boasted some augmentation that was presumably helping to break up the rotting log.
“Welp,” Ranger Jones said, reaching up as if to scratch the back of his neck, and then seeming to think better of it, “I can only speak for myself, but it fit.”
Seventeenth Trill stared at him waiting for the rest of the explanation. However Ranger Jones seemed to consider that enough and bent back over the log.
“You set the sensor in the place because it fit in the space?” Seventeenth Trill demanded.
“It fit perfectly,” Ranger Jones went on. “Like the space was made for the sensor. I can see how that would be annoying though. I’ll spread the word to leave the sensor be if it’s causing trouble.”
At that the human began tearing apart the log and Seventeenth Trill flew back towards the house. Ranger Jones was respected among the humans and this would resolve the problem. But the Winged was still no closer to understanding what about the ledge being the ‘perfect shape’ induced the humans to set the sensor there.”
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