Humans are Weird – What’s That Word
Quilx’tch tried not to slump with irritation as he followed his agitated colleague down the hall to the primary computer banks. The mix of bovine protein he was experimenting with had almost reached the temperature point just before boiling when he was forced by professional curtsey to prematurely end the experiment. Of course he could always heat the substance again but his human contact assured him that this would cause molecular level disfigurement that would completely ruin the final consistency of the desired product.
Quilx’tch shot a glance as the hindlegs of his colleague and surreptitiously triggered the recording function of his tablet.
“Call Pele about possible workarounds for cheese cake recipe,” he softly clicked.
“Are you paying attention?” His colleague demanded.
“Not entirely,” Quilx’tch admitted. “Not until we get to the screens where I can actually see the evidence.”
His colleague bristled in annoyance but waved a manipulator in acceptance of his logic.
“You say you have proof of various humans displaying this behavior more than once?” Quilx’tch asked in an attempt to get his mind focused.
“No,” his colleague flicked his back leg in correction. “I only managed to record the behavior once. However I have notes on the majority of similar cases.”
“I have far too much experience with our newest biped friends,” Quilx’tch began, “to ask why you do not simply describe the behavior.”
“Thank you.” The other replied, relaxing a little as they entered the comfortable sized room built just for Trisk bodies and minds.
“However why did you not just play the video on our mobile devices?” Quilx’tch asked as his colleague waved him over a three dimensional display.”
“Given that the behavior does not appear to be conscious I thought it best to avoid any shame reactions if it is noted,” his colleague explained.
“When have you ever,” Quilx’tch demanded, “seen one of these space faring humans display a shame reflex?”
“Look,” his colleague pointed to the display as it began to play. “Just watch the human.”
Quilx’tch bristled himself a bit at the rudeness but focused on the scene. The humans was ‘sitting’ at his work station while several Trisk worked around him. The massive human desk providing for nearly twenty Trisk work clusters. The humans was poised in a position that Quilx’tch had come to associate with maximum productivity. His internal skeleton held the massive mammalian muscles rigidly up and his fingers flew over the interface surface. From the looks of it the high ranking Ranger was composing a final report from all of the field data gathered on the economically vital ‘space whales’. Suddenly however the rapid tapping of the humans fingers faltered and paused.
Quilx’tch titled his head in interest. The human pulled his flexible upper lip in between his gleaming white teeth and chewed on it a moment causing Quilx’tch to flinch in distress. One hand slid off of the active surface and began taping idly on the desk frame, sending tremors through the superstructure that called the attention of all the Trisk present to the unconscious human.
“Gras’kt!” the human suddenly called out.
Quilx’tch bristled a bit at the rudeness of the sudden interruption. He knew humans were abrupt but this one did not even lift his eyes to the Trisk he addressed.
“Keep watching,” his colleague muttered.
Quilx’tch obeyed.
“What is that word?” The human demanded.
Presumably of Gras’kt. The main structure of the humans dominant arm was now pointed in the generally direction of the Trisk who had first responded, but the hand was twisting around in a circular gesture that caused the pointing finger to encompass three-fourths of the room.
“That word that means how things, you know, how things go, go together. But fancy for the report…”
The various Trisk were now glancing at each other in confusion.
“Dynamics!” The human suddenly shouted.
His hands immediately began flying across the active screen and he grinned in delight.
“Thanks Gras’kt!” The human called out.
After a long pause one Trisk raised a manipulating appendage in confused consent.
“You are welcome?” He replied.
“You’re the best lil’ bud.” The human said.
The replay ended and Quilx’tch looked into his colleague’s eyes with resigned confusion.
“I have no comments to add to your research,” Quilx’tch stated firmly.
Perhaps if he hurried he could save his cheesecake.
Quilx’tch tried not to slump with irritation as he followed his agitated colleague down the hall to the primary computer banks. The mix of bovine protein he was experimenting with had almost reached the temperature point just before boiling when he was forced by professional curtsey to prematurely end the experiment. Of course he could always heat the substance again but his human contact assured him that this would cause molecular level disfigurement that would completely ruin the final consistency of the desired product.
Quilx’tch shot a glance as the hindlegs of his colleague and surreptitiously triggered the recording function of his tablet.
“Call Pele about possible workarounds for cheese cake recipe,” he softly clicked.
“Are you paying attention?” His colleague demanded.
“Not entirely,” Quilx’tch admitted. “Not until we get to the screens where I can actually see the evidence.”
His colleague bristled in annoyance but waved a manipulator in acceptance of his logic.
“You say you have proof of various humans displaying this behavior more than once?” Quilx’tch asked in an attempt to get his mind focused.
“No,” his colleague flicked his back leg in correction. “I only managed to record the behavior once. However I have notes on the majority of similar cases.”
“I have far too much experience with our newest biped friends,” Quilx’tch began, “to ask why you do not simply describe the behavior.”
“Thank you.” The other replied, relaxing a little as they entered the comfortable sized room built just for Trisk bodies and minds.
“However why did you not just play the video on our mobile devices?” Quilx’tch asked as his colleague waved him over a three dimensional display.”
“Given that the behavior does not appear to be conscious I thought it best to avoid any shame reactions if it is noted,” his colleague explained.
“When have you ever,” Quilx’tch demanded, “seen one of these space faring humans display a shame reflex?”
“Look,” his colleague pointed to the display as it began to play. “Just watch the human.”
Quilx’tch bristled himself a bit at the rudeness but focused on the scene. The humans was ‘sitting’ at his work station while several Trisk worked around him. The massive human desk providing for nearly twenty Trisk work clusters. The humans was poised in a position that Quilx’tch had come to associate with maximum productivity. His internal skeleton held the massive mammalian muscles rigidly up and his fingers flew over the interface surface. From the looks of it the high ranking Ranger was composing a final report from all of the field data gathered on the economically vital ‘space whales’. Suddenly however the rapid tapping of the humans fingers faltered and paused.
Quilx’tch titled his head in interest. The human pulled his flexible upper lip in between his gleaming white teeth and chewed on it a moment causing Quilx’tch to flinch in distress. One hand slid off of the active surface and began taping idly on the desk frame, sending tremors through the superstructure that called the attention of all the Trisk present to the unconscious human.
“Gras’kt!” the human suddenly called out.
Quilx’tch bristled a bit at the rudeness of the sudden interruption. He knew humans were abrupt but this one did not even lift his eyes to the Trisk he addressed.
“Keep watching,” his colleague muttered.
Quilx’tch obeyed.
“What is that word?” The human demanded.
Presumably of Gras’kt. The main structure of the humans dominant arm was now pointed in the generally direction of the Trisk who had first responded, but the hand was twisting around in a circular gesture that caused the pointing finger to encompass three-fourths of the room.
“That word that means how things, you know, how things go, go together. But fancy for the report…”
The various Trisk were now glancing at each other in confusion.
“Dynamics!” The human suddenly shouted.
His hands immediately began flying across the active screen and he grinned in delight.
“Thanks Gras’kt!” The human called out.
After a long pause one Trisk raised a manipulating appendage in confused consent.
“You are welcome?” He replied.
“You’re the best lil’ bud.” The human said.
The replay ended and Quilx’tch looked into his colleague’s eyes with resigned confusion.
“I have no comments to add to your research,” Quilx’tch stated firmly.
Perhaps if he hurried he could save his cheesecake.
RSS Feed
