<![CDATA[Betty Adams Tall Tales

<![CDATA[Betty Adams Tall Tales - Betty\'s Blog]]>Sun, 19 Apr 2026 13:35:33 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[Humans are Weird - Hobby]]>Sun, 19 Apr 2026 20:06:04 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-hobby

Humans are Weird - Hobby

Hst’hst trotted along the weekly tunnel, absently hooking a lower talon into every third support strand and feeling the give.
“I thought you were going to let your work drift off after you left the main platform,” Czt’czt observed with quite amusement twitching in her mandibles.
Hst’hst felt her hairs prickle in annoyance and she deliberately took far longer than a polite six seconds to respond. She did however alter her strides to make it harder for her to fell the strengths of the tunnel.
“It is no easy matter to redirect ones attention from a task when people’s lives depend on doing it correctly,” Hst’hst said.
The response was far too harsh for the context, and Czt’czt flinched back slightly at the implied rebuke. Hst’hst was attempting to wrestle a sincere apology up past her main lung when Czt’czt shook her legs out and visible dismissed the negative response.
“The winds are breathing past the spires,” she said, lifting three appendages as if she could feel the wind in the tunnel. “The air will taste like life, and we have a human friend to describe the stars to us!”
Hst’hst took the hint as the human said and waited only the polite six seconds to respond with the same emotional paw.
“It will be wonderful to run my claws through the sand,” she agreed. “Three on my right side have grown ragged this test cycle and the sensations of the beach will be delightful.”
Czt’czt angled her abdomen at Hst’hst, bringing her primary cone of vision to bear. For several long seconds the twitching of her mandibles indicated that Czt’czt was going to say something in response. If Hst’hst’s past experience was any guide something about artistic appreciation of relaxation and the soulless pawing of an engineer. However the calming pause did its work and Czt’czt decided to end the conversation there. They reached the exit and trotted out onto the platform.
Below them stretched the massive emptiness of a human-functional transpiration node. Powerful winds smelling of mammal blew down corridors with rigid, stone like walls. Brightly colored art of a broad, splotchy type chosen by the human decorators faded into indistinct, but still pleasant patterns in the distance. Human Friend Paloma was sitting on one of the ‘benches’ massive shelves meant for humans to fold their bodies onto to give them rest from the constant strain of their bipedal swaying.
Czt’czt rushed ahead waving a little silver patch of silk she kept on hand just for getting human attention. The flashing of the silver cloth caught Human Friend Paloma’s attention and she unfolded herself to her standing height, as she did so, shoving something into her backpack.
“Ready for a sunset on the lake?” Human Friend Paloma called out waving.
Hst’hst scrambled forward and the two Trisk eagerly settled on the human’s shoulders. Human Friend Paloma walked down the steps of the platform, the ‘falling’ sensation of going down stairs on a human was very different, more terrifying, than simply walking. They held on tight with all talons until Human Friend Paloma’s feet found the broad, sandy trail – a highway by Trisk standards- that led down to the lake shore. The trees sped by until they opened out to the warm, hazy light of the beach. Hst’hst could just see the net-fence that kept the local predators out of their recreational area at the rim of her distance vision. Human Friend Paloma examined the uniform stretch of beach for some mysterious combination of sand and distance from the water that would make a ‘good’ place to set down. This process done the human folded herself down and began writhing around to take her backpack off.
Hst’hst and Czt’czt took this as her usual less that perfectly polite signal that the ride was over and scrambled down into the sand. They took the time to make sure that they were in the human’s narrow cone of vision and Hst’hst began vigorously running her claws through the sand. As she had anticipated the sensation was delightful. The sand was warm and the abrasion was perfect, catching the rough edges of her claws just right. Czt’czt was turning slow circles, pulling the sand up into a perfect abdominal couch. Once she settled she would begin basking in the natural wonder, or some such thing that planning architects considered necessary.
As her claws began to smooth Hst’hst was distracted by the sound of a steady clicking. It gradually became clear that it was originating from just over the curve of Human Friend Paloma’s leg. Curious, Hst’hst trotted out a little further so she could see over the leg. Human Friend Paloma held two massive spikes and was using them to coil long soft-fiber into a loose cloth. Hst’hst waved to Czt’czt, catching both her and Human Friend Paloma’s attention.
“It would appear that I am not the only one who brought work to the beach,” Hst’hst said in deliberately loud tones.
“What are you talking about?” Human Friend Paloma asked, tilting her head to one side even as the spikes kept clicking.
“You brought that work task with you to our recreation time,” Hst’hst said, tilting a meaningful angle at Czt’czt.
“This isn’t work,” Human Friend Paloma said with a surprised tone. “This scarf is pure recreation.”
Hst’hst and Czt’czt paused, waiting for clarification. When none came Czt’czt stepped hesitantly forward.
“Human Friend Paloma,” she said. “You are in charge of making sure the human cloth weavers in this area are developing different methods, right?”
“That’s my job,” Human Friend Paloma agreed.
“Then how is this not part of your work?” Czt’czt pressed.
“Well, I’m not getting paid for one,” Human Friend Paloma said. “Two, I like it.”
“Isn’t the point of recreation time to rest from, doing work?” Czt’czt asked.
“Well,” Human Friend Paloma said with a wide grin. “There’s the third point. Responsibility and expectations. No one is making me do this, there is nothing on the line. I just want to.”
“And that is enough of a difference to make doing the same thing be work or recreation?” Czt’czt asked.
Human Friend Paloma nodded and then went back to glancing between her not-work and the distant sky. Czt’czt made a gesture of confusion to Hst’hst with one paw, but Hst’hst only shrugged and resumed running her paws through the sand. At least this meant that Czt’czt would no longer be treating her like a fuzzy little one.

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]]><![CDATA[Humans are Weird - Not Hunger]]>Mon, 06 Apr 2026 19:58:29 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-not-hunger

Humans are Weird - Not Hunger

Sift shifted her scutes again in the depression her own weight made in the mattress. Soft mass pushed into her from every side almost like dry sand but with not a singe one of sand’s benefits. She absently reached out with her teeth and gripped the blanket, tugging it back into a reasonable position for what felt like the seventh time that night. Suddenly, from the next room came a strangely high growl that spoke of mammalian aggression.
Sift instantly went still, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips like a hatchling. She felt a surge of hope that perhaps even if she had woken Mary, the young mother would just roll over and go back to sleep. However the sound of a wooden frame creaking, the thump of blankets being thrown on the floor, and the the off-cadence thumping of sleepy human footsteps told her that the damage was done. Sift attempted to lift her chin over the edge of the mattress, and only managed to dig her paws deeper into the mass. It took several minutes of clawing and thrashing (being mindful that her claws didn’t tear the material) before she remembered that such a surface needed to be treated like quicksand and she managed to slither her way over the edge and onto the blessed relief of the solid floor, wood though it was.
Sift was mindfully sifting out the proper words for her apology when the mental gears slipped their teeth. She sniffed the air and her tongue smacked against her teeth as the scent of frying avian eggs drifted into the room. Sift increased her pace and rounded the wall into the kitchen just as Mary was scraping a steaming yellow mass into a plate. The human’s long hair was ‘frizzled’, sticking out in every direction. There were dark circles under her eyes. The sound of her molars grinding together was clearly audible. Sift suddenly remember her intent and swallowed down the saliva.
Mary glanced up and squinted at her and then gave a rueful smile.
“Oh sorry Sift,” she said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Sift gave a little grunt of surprise as Mary stumbled to the table and began to devour the eggs with a speed and lack of coordination that spoke of real hunger. Mary paused her meal long enough to squint at Sift again.
“There’s more if you want them,” Mary suggested, pointing to the pan with a fork full of the yellow mass.
Sift gladly scrambled over to the kitchen stool and pushed it up to the stove. She hopped up and served herself a plat of the eggs. Gripping it in her teeth she carefully slid down from the stool and walked over to the table. They ate in a companionable silence for several moments before Mary reached the end of her eggs and leaned back with a relieved sigh.
“I had thought you had already reached your required caloric limit today,” Sift observed around a mouthful of the rich protein.
Mary gave a hollow laugh and leaned back in her chair.
“And then some,” she agreed. “It’s just, with Aunt Ethel and...and everything. You know.” Mary finished with a vague wave of her hand.
“I do not know,” Sift corrected her.
Mary blinked at her slowly and wiped the cooking grease from her fingers onto her long sleep-shirt. Mary heaved a sigh and nodded.
“Right, so you know my Aunt Ethel had to go to the University Health Station?” the human asked.
Sift gave a rumble of confirmation.
“Well she is old,” Mary said. “She is one of the last of the first generation of colonists. She, well this wasn’t the big one, this time, but we all know it isn’t far off.”
Sift suspected she was missing several details but she felt she understood the main point.
“The slow fermentation of the generations,” she commented.
Mary nodded.
“Well my cousin found her not breathing,” Mary said. “That...that’s serious for mammals you know. Then she, my cousin, had to manually keep her breathing until the medical transport arrived, and that’s really...stressful, with the elderly, they have fragile bones, and I coiuldn’t help directly because of the baby so I ended up managing communications. Making sure everyone knew what was going on.”
Mary paused and prodded at her now empty plate with her fork.
“And she’s fine now,” Mary said slowly. “Fine for now, but the stress caught up to me.”
Sift let the silence brew for several minutes as she ground the conversation between her teeth.
“So this stress is why you are eating triple your normal caloric intake?” Sift finally asked.
Mary gave a bark of laughter and grinned over at her.
“There’s chocolate cake in the refrigeration unit,” Mary said. “Let’s try for quadruple before I try to get back to sleep.”

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]]><![CDATA[Humans are Weird – Competitive Gliding- Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math]]>Tue, 31 Mar 2026 17:55:33 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-competitive-gliding-audio-narration-book-4-humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math

Humans are Weird - Competitive Gliding - Audio Narration

“I must admit,” Thirty-four Trills said as he shuffled the stack of datapads that he held in his wingfolds, “being stationed on a base with humans has certainly expanded and condensed my understanding of the Ranger Corps safety regulations.”
“One either flies or falls in this sort of situation,” the base commander agreed as he held out a winghook for the next datapad.
“Have you found any regulation yet that even begins to cover the situation?” Thrity-four Trills asked.
“Yes,” the commander said with a tired sigh. “The vast majority of the regulations about disrupting flight space do cover this situation to some degree.”
“But?” Thirty-four Trills asked as he began to sort through some sub-files on interspecies insults.
“They are all meant to cover serious violations,” the commander said as he shifted his datapads around in tired confusion. “There is nothing that is really applicable to a wing of junior rangers blowing off steam in a method that is so ultimately harmless.”
“I wouldn’t call casing great masses of half directed chaff into the main personal flight path exactly harmless,” Thirty-four Trills pointed out.
“Tell me,” the commander said with a sigh as he reached up to rub his sensory horns, “is there a single hair’s weight of malice or aforethought in the humans’ actions.”
“To be right on the wind’s edge,” Thirty-four Trills said with a dry rasp, “I highly doubt that there is any thought involved at all.”
The commander gave a dry chuckle and shoved the datapads away from him.
“This really is my fault,” he said as he walked over to the window and looked out at the soft green floor of the quad.
The majority of the human component of the training base were scattered across the ground cover wearing the minimum amount of clothing that their culture allowed. They had dragged out the massive recycling bin to the middle of the quad and a few were vigorously sorting though the waste in search of paper of a particular density. This they then handed out to other humans who sorted it and carried it to where a line of contestants huddled over the starting line of an improvised flight test range. These humans were busily folding the paper into glide surfaces which were then hurled down the range with powerful thrusts of their thick forelimbs. Some humans went so far as to engage their entire bodies as propulsion levers. The improvised gliders flew, fell, and swerved drunkenly down the test range where they were then judged by a row of humans with recording devices.
That situation in of itself wouldn’t have been so bad. The improvised test range was a reasonably restricted area of the quad. However the rest of the humans appeared to be engaged in a purely disorganized effort of creativity that was filling the entire airspace with folded paper contraptions that slewed, glided, and dropped, making the space a flight hazard more nearly akin to a storm wind in the treetops than anything else.
“Were you able to gain any insight into what initiated this?” the commander finally asked.
“Not a chirp,” Thirty-four Trills said with a sigh. “The humans all seemed satisfied with the entertainment provided on the base. We were making sure to assign each human the suggested amount of vigorous outdoor walking tasks. None of them has mentioned this activity in public at least that we could record.”
“How did this start again?” the commander asked, waving a winghook at the chaos outside the window.
The both flinched as a heavier bodied craft slammed into the window. This one seemed to have some sort of polymer band attached to a primitive propeller surface.
“Dear mothertree,” Thirty-four Trills muttered in horror, “They are adding extended propulsion to them now.”
The commander gave an irritated chirp and Thirty-four Trills flapped his attention back to the superior officer.
“Specialist Schmidt,” he said quickly. “He was sweeping out the bay where the recycling bin is kept. There was a fragment of paper on the floor too big for the broom to handle so he bent over to pick it up manually. He seemed to pause and consider it for a moment, then, instead of putting it in the smaller recycling bin he folded it into a glide surface and attempted to glide it into the open top of the bin. He missed the toss repeatedly and was observed by Specialist Psmith who suggested a modification to the glide surface. That mod didn’t work so they began to trouble shoot other designs.”
“And at no point did it occur to them to just place the paper in the smaller bin?” the commander asked.
“Apparently not,” Thirty-four Trills replied. “Eventually other humans observed them and attempted to help. This required more paper which they procured from the main recycling bin, and well,” Thirty-four Trills gestured to the window with a winghook, “as you can see it is a very fair day out and a general rest day.”
“They took it outside,” the commander finished as a bright yellow glider drifted past the window.
“They took it outside,” Thirty-four Trills confirmed.
“If we can’t find a regulation by sundown I will write one myself,” the commander said as he bent back to the task at hook.

Humans are Weird: I Did the Math
https://www.indiegogo.com/en/projects/bettyadams-20737048/humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math
The punishment should fit the crime. You only live once. Work hard, play hard.
Humans have a lot of weird little sayings like that. How will our little green friends deal with them once we expand into space? And how will the deal with the human psychology who thought them up?
Find out in the fourth book of human absurdity:
Humans are Weird: I Did the Math
Available on Indiegogo March 2026!
Click the link to follow now!
Humans are Weird: I Did the Math by Betty Adams - Indiegogo
https://www.indiegogo.com/en/projects/bettyadams-20737048/humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math

Author Betty Adams Books
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]]><![CDATA[Humans are Weird – Cold Shock - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math]]>Mon, 30 Mar 2026 17:14:32 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-cold-shock-audio-narration-book-4-humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math

Humans are Weird - Cold Shock - Audio Narration

Brilliant blue light seared down through the atmosphere, bounced through the leafless branches, and fell, piercing the leg-thick ice beneath them. Around the edge of the small ice field mounds of the dry, fluffy snow formed a perimeter where the clearing process had pushed what had once covered the pond.
First Aunt felt her antenna twitching against the flexible covering that protected them from the Ultraviolet rays. She was mostly certain that the symptom was psychosomatic. She angled her head to take another subtle look at First Sister. The eldest daughter of the tenuous new hive was but half grown. The sturdy green thermal insulation that swathed her from her toes to her antenna tips gave her a comical appearance and from the bulge around her neck her frill kept trying to extend against the material. Her neck tube was nearly slipping out of her lower harness and First Aunt strung a mental line to reset the insulating layers. However First Sister’s antenna were quite still as she stared down in fascination at the ice beneath their feet, suggesting that the bright and cheerful youngster was not feeling the maddening itching.
While First Aunt mulled over this First Sister rotated her body and waved her arm vigorously over her head. First Aunt examined the direction she was waving in and felt a flicker of annoyance as she spotted the local Ranger stomping across the hill just outside the perimeter of their hive. The human, a Seventh Brother, from a hive that had produced no females at all, was notoriously unsociable by not only human but Shatar standards. Neither Mother nor Father had been able to establish social relations with him despite the fact that his last fellow Ranger had departed weeks ago and the Corps had failed to send another. Even their adopted Grandfather had not been able to establish more than a practical trading relationship with the human. The elders of the tribe had tacitly decided to leave any further social interactions to Grandfather. It seemed that the line had not stretched down to the newest generation.
“First Sister!” First Aunt clicked out. “What is the reading on the resivore ice depth there?”
The young one scrambled a bit as she readjusted the probe in her hands. She quickly tapped the ice beneath her and it made an odd report. First Aunt’s antenna twitched hard though she wasn’t quite sure why. The probe made many sounds in response to its sounding. True she had never heard that particular combination of tink, crack, and hiss before, but she was uncertain why it filled her with such unease. Much later, she would explain to Grandfather that it was just a bad noise.
“Two millimeters!” First Sister chirped out.
“That can’t be correct,” First Aunt stated, feeling a surge of irritation. “Take it again-”
Her voice froze as still as the crystallized water around her as the anomalous reading and the strange sound coiled around her antennas.
“Stop!” She snapped out. “Come to me First Sister!”
However it was too late. First Sister had already raised the probe at First Aunt’s order and she could not have redirected the mass if she tried. It struck the ice between her forefeet and once again it made the same strange pattern. There was the tink of the metal tip striking the ice, then the crack came, long and spreading and now clearly from the ice below instead of the probe. However the last sound, the hiss of escaping air turned into a gurgle as the green water of the algal reservoir.
First Aunt scrambled towards her precious little niece, but the bulky thermal insulation slowed her, and the friction pads that kept her legs safe from sliding slowed her more. She watched in horror as First Sister’s fore-legs fell into the broken ice and First Sister chittered in agony. Almost slowly First Sister’s body tipped into the water and disappeared from view in the murky green of the algae and the ice. Despite the insulation something froze in First Aunt’s lungs. She staggered to a stop as it struck her like a blow. There was nothing she could do.
Her fingers picked almost absently at the comm device attached to her external harness. She had to tell First Mother, but what if First Father was there? What if he heard that First Sister was gone? Her fingers found her comm and she activated it, the speaker hummed to life.
“Fourth Cousin….I mean First Aunt!” Third Mother called out, ending with an unprofessional chitter of amusement at her mistake. “What is your status?”
First Aunt opened her mandible to answer but something she had been vaguely aware of suddenly forced itself into her cone of focus. The human ranger had suddenly cut his trail at nearly ninety degrees and had begun sprinting down towards them with long loping strides that lifted his feet cleanly over the snow. He had cleared the perimeter hedge by simply vaulting over it and had begun running over the pond towards the spreading green cracks, speeding up with every stried. He now began to shed the massive insulating layers he wore, dropping them on the ice in a colorful trail. By the time he reached the hole where First Sister had disappeared he was wearing nothing but the thinnest of wicking layers. He never paused as he reached the hole, instead he leapt in feat first.
“First Aunt!” Third Mother was demanding in frantic clicks. “What is going on? Why did you-”
“First Sister fell through the ice!” First Aunt was suddenly able to move and speak again.
A hissing chitter of horror came over the comm. First Aunt was scrambling towards the hole in the ice now as a faint sprout of hope bloomed in her frill.
“Human Seventh Brother has gone after her!” First Aunt explained quickly.
A chatter of frantic voices came over the line.
“I can’t understand you!” First Aunt snapped out. “Please have Fifth Cousin, I mean Second Aunt come out with the heavy mass transporter and all able bodied Cousins, Aunts, who can fully insulate themselves!”
There was an abrupt silence from the other end of the comms and then Grandfather’s soothing old voice came on.
“The orders have been given,” he stated. “Now can you tell me-”
But First Aunt cut him off with a frantic chitter. First Sister, at least her body, suddenly burst out of the water, held aloft in the massive hand of the human. With a mighty heave he tossed her out of the greenish water and onto the hard surface of the ice where she lay curled as tightly as if she had been hours dead instead of moving freely and joyously only moments before. First Aunt ran up to her and gently rotated the small body.
“First Sister is out of the water,” she said into the comms. “She is cold and stiff-”
“What about Seventh Brother?” Grandfather cut in.
Recalling the human First Aunt tilted her head back to get a focus on him. For a moment he dipped down into the water, then he surged upwards and flung his hands onto the ice. His entire body writhed as he trunk-like legs thrashed and slowly but surely came out of the green water to lay flat on the ice.
“He is out of the water too,” First Aunt stated.
“The mass transporter is in the far storage caves and will take some time to reach you, but it is on its way,” Grandfather said, his voice smoothing with relief. “How is First Sister?”
“She isn’t breathing!” First Aunt exclaimed, resting her hand on the young one’s abdomen.
Frantic chitters overwhelmed the comm for a moment, but First Aunt was distracted by the human writhing towards her across the ice. Instead of resuming his usual bipedal stance he was scrambling like an Undulates across the surface.
“Put her on my back!” He snapped out. “Got to get her dry!”
It took a moment for First Aunt to translate the human language. It was never her strongest achievement, but when she did she obeyed instantly, rolling the uninteresting form up onto the broad flat surface of the human’s back.
“Hold her there!” The human ordered as he immediately set off for the nearest edge of the pond.
First Aunt obeyed. She was uncertain how the human planned on drying off First Sister, but the concept was sound and the whole point of letting Rangers on a new hive-world was to let them help you in strange situations. Her comm was squawking out demands for information in several different voices but she ignored it and focused on balancing First Sister against the human’s writhing movements. They reached the edge of the algae pond and the human surged up and flung himself into the burm of powdery snow. He dislodged First Sister and rolled over in the stuff a few times leaving a green algal smear behind him. Then he grabbed two great handfuls of the snow and vigorously rubbed it through his hair.
First Aunt felt a glimmer of understanding. The dry, frozen snow instantly absorbed and froze the thin layer of water on his skin. She hesitantly reached down and pressed a handful of the glittering mass against First Sister. However the human had lunged to his feet and now lumbered up to her.
“Take off the insulation!” He snapped. “It’s all wet inside and we need to get her dry. I don’t know how.”
First Aunt saw the logic in that and gave a few quick tugs at the release points. It was difficult with First Sister so stiff and unyielding but they were soon loose.
“Let me!” he snapped. “Go back. Get that orange bag and bring it here quick.”
First Aunt felt a snap of irritation, but trimmed it quickly. This was why they had Rangers after all. She moved as quickly as she could across the ice while keeping an antenna curled at the human. He quickly but carefully divested First Sister of the insulating gear she was wearing and spread it flat on the snow. He had the sense not to abrade First Sister’s membrane with the ice crystals at least. His hands flew as he snatched up masses of it and would press each new handful once, quickly to her membrane before discarding the old snow for new. First Aunt found the small orange bad and was surprised and relieved to find it light weight. She hurried back to the human, whose skin had gone from brilliant red to white and was beginning to turn blue.
“Pull the tab,” he ordered.
She did, and the thing jumped out of her hands and rolled to a flat section of snow. There it rapidly expanded into a domed enclosure with a clear band that allowed light in and out. The human heaved his body up and though the markings that indicated the entrance, pulling First Sister after him. He arranged his body so his folded legs provided a fairly large surface and he set First Sister’s body on this. He reached up and squeezed a cylinder that extended from the top of the emergency shelter and it dropped down. First Aunt recognized it as a portable heater. The human hunched his thick torso around First Sister and spread his arms. First Aunt realized he was focusing all the heat on the little body. She watched in fascination and trepidation as the human’s skin turned from blue, back to white, and then to pink once again. Finally he lifted his head and blinked at her.
“Hey,” he said. “If its safe can you go get my clothes?”
“Of course!” She stated as she turned and scampered back across the refreezing ice to retrieve them.
The the human “clothes” were heavy and cumbersome with their complex layers of moisture wicking and solar and thermal radiation needed to preserve the complex human membrane and it took her some time to drag them back to the emergency shelter.
“When hers are dry shake them out and hang em on that bush,” the human ordered next.
First Aunt had to stare at him for several long moments before she understood that he meant First Sister’s thermal insulation. Again, it was a sound idea. The dry snow had indeed removed all the moisture from the layers and First Aunt found it easy to shake the excess snow off of them.
By this time she could seen the mass transporter floating towards them over the snow with the towering form of Second Aunt perched in the main seat and several others clustered behind her.
“Hey!” The human suddenly shouted, a completely different tone in his voice. “She’s twitching!”
Sure enough First Sister’s antenna were beginning to moved and her body was uncurling from the tight, deathlike shape it had been in and First Aunt felt her lung expand for what felt like the first time in hours.

Author Betty Adams Books
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]]><![CDATA[Humans are Weird – Cocoon - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math]]>Sun, 29 Mar 2026 18:34:51 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-cocoon-audio-narration-book-4-humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math

Humans are Weird - Cocoon - Audio Narration

Inside the great barn in the human ungulate reproduction center on Tau Alpha the temperature was the regulation standard. Humidity was a bit higher than usual as the filters struggled to pull water out of the air faster than the exterior environment drifted in, but was within safety regulations. Outside, the temperature was marginally greater than the freezing point of pure water and the humidity had been well over one-hundred percent for days.
Disrupts The Gradient shifted uneasily in the foul tasting biomass that was a collection of the dead fecal matter of hoofed mammals and grassy detritus and tried to be grateful for the situation. Disrupts the Gradient had been warned of the dangers of the environment on this planet. The predators that had greedily eaten nearly a tenth of the initial biomass before Disrupts The Gradient had formulated the correct chemical defense had been entirely expected and the loss had been factored into calculatiosn. At least the Gathering thought enough calculations had been made. Disrupts The Gradients had never actually lost mass to predation before, at least not on any noticeable level. With original biomass spawned on one of the old colonies, where every defense was already known, travels since on the great transports with thriving healthy ecosystems that regularly merged with other thriving ecosystems Disrupts The Gradient had never had to deal with wild predators before. The discomfort of being eaten had been far, far, more distracting than anticipated.
Then the planet’s dry cycle had hit just as the predation was worse. Disrupts The Gradient supposed moving into the humans’ offered refuge then would have been wise, but certainty that the problems would be solved as soon at the wet season came had delayed reaction. Of course the dehydration had been solved. The rain had brought a local fungal growth that had nearly starved the Gathering out and had lowered mental capacity to nearly unacceptable levels. If the local human hadn’t had a solid understanding of fungal growth patterns Disrupts The Gradient might have been in serious trouble, but she had, and she had insisted on moving the Gathering’s primary mass under the horribly sterile tasting but elevated and sheltered soil of her main barn before the rains hit really bad, as she called it.
DisruptsThe Gradient pulled mass a little closer to center as thought thread crept through sopping memories of the time. The Gathering hadn’t wanted to creep under the foul tasting barn, but had had just enough mental power left to be polite and had moved enough central mass, leaving the rest, almost half, in the desiccated, but sweet tasting grasslands. Then the flood had come and the safe mass had felt that in the grasslands be torn to shreds. Disrupts The Gradient had managed to salvage a good bit of that mass and pull it to the half under the welcome safety of the artificial high ground and the equally artificial chemical composition of the barn but had lost a lot of mass nonethless.
The door opened, interrupting pondering, and two young humans tramped in, carrying waterproof bags full of heavy items. There were muttering eagerly to each other and seemed to have entirely forgotten the Gathering’s presence as they walked over to the dry biomatter storage piles and began rearranging the, straw, Disrupts The Gradient believed it was called. They created what was clearly a resting depression and spread several blankets over it. Then they positioned a light projector over and behind the place, stacked several woody fiber books beside them, tucked a thermal storage container down in the straw with several cups and then proceed to burrow down into the comfortable pile they had made.
Disrupts the Gradient was suddenly deeply curious for the first time in many weeks. These were young humans, full of animal life and energy. Their personal favorite activity, this memory remained, a logical one to store near their home of course, was simply running, not for any purpose or vector goal, just going out onto the wide flatlands that surrounded their spawnpoint and forcing their motile fibers to propel them at fantastic speeds along the surface. Their second favorite activity was finding any body of water deep enough to encompass their mass and move as fast and they could through it. It was true that like all such creatures they had to pay for their energy expenditure with a diurnal rest cycle, but it was currently what the humans called noon, the peak of their activity cycle. What were two healthy young humans doing composting at high noon?
A projected entertainment began to play across the wall. At least Disrupts the Gradient assumed it was one. Animal light projections were so difficult to process, even before suffering the mass loss. However the artificial voices and music coming from the speaker was just recognizable. The two humans seemed to be paying little attention to it, focusing more on the wood fiber and mineral spread data storage they had brought with them and occasionally reaching out to take in small amounts of the heated liquid in their thermal storage cylinders. Disrupts the Gradient grew more curious over their behavior and gave the center of mass a rustle. That didn’t seem to get their attention so the Gathering made the effort to mound up and flexed sound producing fibers.
The humans emitted a collective squawk and thrashed around a bit before sitting up and fixing their eyes on the largest mass they could see.
“Skreek! Disrupts the Gradient!” the older of the two exclaimed. “I forgot you were in here!”
“We’re not disturbing you are we?” the younger one asked. “We can leave if you like.”
“Not disturbing me,” Disrupts The Gradient assured them. “Have questions.”
The two, siblings, the Gathering thought their relationship was called that, glanced at each other and grinned. Disrupts The Gradient vaguely recalled knowing more about them before the floods.
“Ask away!” The older one said.
“Why here?” Disrupts the Gradient asked.
Forming words with damaged tendrils was painful, but the more they were used now the faster they would regenerate.
“We’re here because it is music lesson time in there,” the younger sibling said pointing towards the main house. “I love music, now, but ten cousins learning the recorder on mass printed pipes.”
The human shuddered dramatically.
“It’s torture,” the older human said with a dramatic flourish of long hair. “We escaped out here.”
“Why not move?” Disrupts the Gradient asked.
The two frowned at the communication mass and then at each other.
“Do you mean why don’t we go live somewhere else?” one asked.
“No,” Disrupts the Gradient replied, and tightened sound producitng tendrils, “why not go out and play?”
They stared at the communication mass without making any sounds for several long drawn out moments before the older one emitted a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh.
“It’s 34 degrees and pouring rain!” the older human said.
“That is the worst weather know to humanity!” the younger one added.
“The worst!” agreed the older. “There is nothing you can do when it’s that cold and wet.”
“Play in colder,” Disrupts the Gradient pointed out.
“We play in snow,” the older one said. “That’s different.”
“Play in cold water up north,” Disrupts the Gradient tried again.
“The water was cold yeah,” the younger one said, “but we had wetsuits and stuff and the air was nice and warm then.”
“Humans just don’t do thirty-four and pouring rain,” the older one said. “Too warm to freeze the water, but so cold that getting wet hurts.”
“Nope,” the younger human said, shaking a scruffy head, “nothing to do on a day like today but hole up with a good book.”
Appearing to think that this sufficient explanation the two burrowed back down into their nests and resumed composting their data. Disrupts the Gradient also relaxed from the more alert state and pondered what had been told. It made no sense at the moment, but hopefully it would once enough mass had regrown.

Author Betty Adams Books
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]]><![CDATA[Humans are Weird – Closet Space - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math]]>Fri, 27 Mar 2026 18:34:57 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-closet-space-audio-narration-book-4-humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math

Humans are Weird - Closet Space - Audio Narration

Third Quartermaster to Proxima Base was waiting patiently outside of the small, circular door set into the wall of the hallway. The smooth green walls stretched an impressive length in every direction before curving out of sight. The walls were marked with a handful of other door types, most notable the ones that opened into the river that ran under the transparent floor. Third Quartermaster tilted his head to the side in interest when a pale white Undulate swam past. He didn’t suppose there was another Undulate with that odd coloration on the campus so this must be Professor Stiffens, the one who had requested the audit of the soup spoons the other day. Why the Professor of post-contact literature even knew what soup spoons were, Third Quartermaster did not know, but the audit was being duly preformed.
His thread of thought was interrupted when the door spiraled open and First Quartermaster skittered out of his office. The Trisk clicked in surprise and rearranged the unstable stack of data-pads that was threatening to overwhelm his paws.
“Third Quartermaster!” First Quartermaster said. “What brings you here?”
Third Quartermaster waited the polite six seconds as he had been taught before answering.
“We have a meeting about human space requirements,” Third Quartermaster explained.
“Yes,” First Quartermaster said, “I recalled that just as I started the question. Well, do you want to have it in your office or the fishbowl?”
“The fishbowl will need to suffice,” Third Quartermaster said, tilting his triangular head to the side in a rueful gesture. “One of the humans failed to follow quarantine protocol when he received a shipment of a predatory insect species.”
“There are predatory insects loose on the campus?” First Quartermaster demanded.
“They have been successfully confined to my office,” Third Quartermaster said with a reassuring curl of his antenna, “and all the humans assure me that the species is harmless to all known sapient beings.”
“And a bundle of stubble that will do the bio-active research if someone looses a new predator there accidentally,” First Quartermaster grumbled as they entered the glass-sided room which theoretically gave one a full view of the campus center.
In reality a few years of students and facility at the University had coated the walls with layer upon layer of written notes and cleaning marks, turning the once transparent walls almost translucent. It made for a reasonably private meeting place.
“Now, what is the latest problem with our big, friendly mammals,” First Quartermaster asked.
“One could hardly call this the latest problem,” Third Quartermaster said. “I haven’t classified it as a problem yet, and I have been tracking its development since the very first human researcher was sent here from the Earth University.”
“Do go on,” First Quartermaster encouraged him.
“This first human,” Third Quartermaster said. “He was a bi-mechanical systems engineer. When he arrived he had just slightly too much personal gear to fit in the storage containers he had brought. Everything seemed necessary and critical to his functioning so I supplied him with a storage unit for his quarters that was about twice the volume of his original unit.”
“Wise and generous,” First Quartermaster said, patting his paws thoughtfully on the stack of datapads that was still shifting in a way that made Third Quartermaster uncomfortable.
“Approximately two lunar months later I noted that the same situation had developed again,” Third Quartermaster went on. “The human did not complain but as the materials scattered around his quarters was a safety hazard, and again, he seemed to have no non-essentials I doubled his storage containers. This happened a few more times. Therefore when more humans began to be stationed here I elected to integrate closets and shelving units into the quarters.”
He paused and licked at one of his eyes as he considered his next words.
“I had assumed you smell,” he said slowly, “that this first human was simply one of those individuals who, through constantly living in harsh conditions of resource scarcity had adapted to a less than optimal resource conditions and that this had caused him to underestimate the amount of storage space needed for one human.”
“A reasonable assumption based on the evidence,” First Quartermaster said.
“However,” Third Quartermaster went on again. “As each new human arrives they each express satisfaction with the amount of storage space they are allotted. Note that it does not matter how much or little they are given. They all expression initial satisfaction, then they quickly fill the space to capacity and require more. I have the numbers and evidence here.”
First Quartermaster clicked in a tone of puzzlement as he took the data pad from Third Quartermaster and began to examine the data.
“Very curious,” First Quartermaster said. “Yes, I see that you simply cannot allot anymore space to each individual human. There is very little in the way of non-essentials. Very curious. Well.”
First Quartermaster tilted his head to the side finally and looked at Third Quartermaster with a handful of eyes.
“What do you think we should do about this?” he asked.
“A proper investigation into this is warranted,” Third Quartermaster said, gesturing at the information. “I have provided the justifications and have written up a proposal for the proper departments. Until that can be done I have put a stated cap on individual storage space in the University proper with options to contact outside storage facilities.”
“Very good, very good,” First Quartermaster said, approving the measures with a tap of his paw on the data pad. “Do the humans recognize the pattern?”
Third Quartermaster flicked an antenna at him in confirmation.

Author Betty Adams Books
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]]><![CDATA[Humans are Weird – Check Again - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math]]>Thu, 26 Mar 2026 23:08:18 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-check-again-audio-narration-book-4-humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math

Humans are Weird - Check Again - Audio Narration

“Oh no, I am quite the drifting strand in my home-reef,” Deeplyconsiders said with a cheerful wriggle of his lagging end. “Data analysis is not a very sought after position by most Undulates.”
“But data analysis is a necessity,” Fourth Brother said in surprise as he gently massaged the core of the stressed undulate. “Second Father says that once a culture progresses far enough that instinct becomes insufficient that every one we know of has developed formal data analysis in some form or another. Even the Gathering, and you know that they almost can do it on instinct, have to preserve data in fibrous networks.”
“Quite, quite,” Deeplyconsiders agreed, emitting a happy vibrating sound he claimed to have learned from a predator species the humans were particularly fond of, “we all had to learn to do it, but very, very few Undulates ever learned to like it. In fact-”
Deeplyconsiders paused in his conversation to flip over and expose his other half to the masseuse's ministrations.
“I do believe that as of the last comparative population productive efforts census we rated as having the lowest rates of native data analysts in the populated galaxy,” he said with a happy hum.
The shallow pool he was in was filled with a liquid that wasn’t water on some technical medical level, but it was the perfect temperature to sooth out stressed appendages and Fourth Brother was a wonder with his fingers. He couldn’t match the controlled power of a human of course but even the most stressed Undulate rarely really needed all that power.
“Well,” Fourth Brother said with a wry click of his mandibles. “If this is the result of pursuit of a career in data analysis it is probably wise of your species to avoid it in general.”
He have a tweak of a particularly stressed portion of Deeplyconsiders core and the Undulate flexed his appendages in a gesture that loosely translated that he couldn’t argue the point.
“Now,” Fourth Brother said, flaring his pseudo-frill a stern yellow, “as this is the fifth appointment you have needed to schedule this cycle I will need to inspect your working area for the situation that is causing this problem. Come now.”
“Oh,” Deeplyconsiders said in a cheerful tone as he slipped down thorough the floor exit, “there is no need for an inspection. I know exactly the problem.”
“Then why do you not resolve it?” Fourth Brother asked.
“The requests are in the order que of course,” Deeplyconsiders gestured up at him from the stream under the solid floor as they moved down the hallway. “The problem is the dry-land computer controls are only rated water resistant. I can drip all over them all I want but I can’t actually submerge them for any length of time. These handy undercurrents aside this base wasn’t really built with Undulates in mind.”
Fourth Bother rubbed his mandibles together thoughtfully. It made sense. In this sector of space the Undulates were newcomers, having arrived several generations after the Humans and Shatar had begun joint efforts. If the necessary equipment were already on the way there was nothing Fourth Brother could really do but it wouldn’t hurt to inspect the workspace anyway. They reached the data analysis shared workspace eventually and Fourth Brother was mildly surprised to see two humans in the area this late in the day. From the way their impossibly broad shoulders hunched over their workstations he speculated that they could both use his services, however he was here for another purpose. Deeplyconsiders indicated his workspace and began to explain how he kept his resting pool just under the data entry surface to avoid accidents.
“Sean,” one human suddenly called out, frustration drawing the rounded vocalized portion of the name out unnaturally. “You need to resend the document!”
“I already sent it,” the other human, presumable Sean, replied in an aggravated tone, “search yer bloody spam clusters!”
“I did,” the first human insisted, his own voice shifting from tones of frustration to tones of aggression. “It isn’t there. You must have forgotten to send it.”
“It’s right here in my sent cluster!” Sean retorted. “I’m looking at it! Check-”
“Fine!” the first human snapped out. “I’ll do it...again.”
Fourth Brother instinctively put a hand down to sooth Deeplyconsiders. Human confrontation was somewhat legendary. He didn’t think that this one was going to get physical, but as the larger sapient he had a duty to grab Deeplyconsiders and run as the nearest portal to the undercurrent was some distance away. However the seconds stretched out and the first human didn’t speak up again. Deeplyconsiders was clearly forming a question gesture when Sean called out.
“Found it, didn’t you?” he asked.
The first human, his voice distinctly less aggressive made an indistinguishable grunt in reply.
“What was that?” Sean asked.
His tone was different as well. Fourth Brother thought he recognized that First Sister had told him was a mocking tone.
“It’s was right where you said it would be,” the first human snapped.
There was another long pause then the first human spoke again in a tight tone.
“Thank you.”
Sean gave a small chuckle and responded with a word Fourth Brother didn’t know, but his tone was relaxed and the pheromone profile in the room noticeably softened. Whatever that last word was it had soothed the first human’s offense. After another long moment the first human emitted a wry chuckle.
Deeplyconsiders gestured that they should probably remove themselves and Fourth Cousin coiled an antenna in agreement. Once out in the main passage way he tilted his head down to look at the Undulate below him and he flexed his fingers, remembering the stress damage built up in the Undulates fibers.
“Do you think,” Fourth Brother suggested cautiously, “that perhaps your stress is not entirely due to the limitations of your workstation.”
“Well yes,” the Undulate agreed with a depreciating gesture that involved a good third of his appendages, “but what can you do about humans?”
“My First Cousin is the company mediator,” Fourth Brother said with a ripple of his pseudo-frill. “We’ll see what she has to suggest.”

Author Betty Adams Books
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]]><![CDATA[Humans are Weird – Charlie Horse - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math]]>Wed, 25 Mar 2026 19:08:32 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-charlie-horse-audio-narration-book-4-humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math

Humans are Weird – Charlie Horse - Audio Narration

The local star sent it’s pale rays weakly through the dense, gray clouds that had been roiling unceasingly over the power station for weeks. Commander Tk’tktc flexed his legs one at a time and debated running along the walkways that lined the massive walls of the room to turn on the main lighting. Without much hope he pulled up the central computer controls on his tablet. As he had expected the lighting and temperature controls were still the same grayscale that humans used to indicate a non-functional link.
Tk’tktc expanded his lungs slowly and adjusted his insulating sweater so it was a bit looser around the joints before rising from the stool his abdomen had been resting on. The concept of being forced to wear thermal regulation layers within an established structure was something he still disliked, and even with that he found he required a small space heater to maintain a comfortable temperature while doing more sedentary work. Taking command of a human base built pre-contact had taught him many new and interesting ways of suffering quietly during the workday. As such an assignment was designed to he supposed rubbing his face under his primary eyes. His cultural understanding had certainly been expanded.
He flexed once more and began skittering briskly along the walkway. The metal composite material under his paws vibrated in impossibly low tones as the walls they were anchored to flexed in response to the power of the storm outside. Commander Tk’tktc shivered as he went, wondering if it was the cold or the unease that caused his hairs to bristle against his sweater. The manual controls were lengths away from his work area, something that he had not thought could be an issues before he took the assignment.
“You learn something new every day, as the humans say,” he clicked to himself.
“I need to formally measure this distance,” he observed to himself, “it feels far longer than what the official records indicate.”
He finally reached the panel and reached up to touch the control for the lights. The moment his paw touched the screen the walkway shuddered strongly enough to make him clutch the wall in panic. For an embarrassing long moment he frantically attempted to figure out what button he had inadvertently touched. However the main lights were on and even a cursory examination of the control panel showed that there was no other control that could have caused the base to shudder like that if activated.
Tk’tktc slowly pulled his appendages away from the wall and considered the situation. He had gotten fairly used to the vibrations caused by the storms. This felt more localized, smaller in scale, but it was still something to be investigated.
“One of the benefits of a human built base was supposed to be that nothing could break them apart,” he clicked to himself.
He ignored the voice in his head that sounded remarkably like his first tutor that added, except humans.
There was another of the odd tremors, less powerful than the first but immediately followed by a series of others. Tk’tktc followed the raised walkway out of the command center and then paused in the corridor lit dimly from the skylights above. He dropped all eight of his paws to the floor, spread out as far as he could go and the tremors came again. They were clearly coming from his right though a few seconds later his attention was rendered rather pointless as a quarrelsome human voice rose in complaint from their shared sleeping corridors in the same direction. There were several more thumps and bumps, now that he was in the corridor he could hear them as well as feel them through his paw hairs, and Human Friend Rogers came stumbling out of the room.
The human, presumably just having come from the sleep state where he would have been insulated under several of his massive blankets was only wearing a thin set of garments that barely covered his core. Tk’tktc felt a sympathetic shiver rattle his joints. Even at this distance he could see that the human’s pitifully few body hairs were raised in an attempt to keep him warm. However that thought was snapped quickly as Tk’tktc realized that the human was in acute distress.
Human Friend Rogers was precariously, more precariously than usual that is, balancing the majority of his weight on his non-dominant leg as he staggered away from the door and clutched at the wall. His face was twisted in a grimace and he seemed to be taking a moment to brace himself before lifting the leg that appeared to be the source of the pain and slamming his foot repeatedly into the floor. Each blow sent waves of vibrations through the floor, up the walls, and into the walk way as the limb the length and thickness of a small tree impacted the surface below it.
Tk’tktc clutched at the walkway for support as his hairs bristled in shock and a little panic as the pounding continued.
“Stupid. Charlie. Horse.” The human spat out in time to his, stomping, Tk’tktc believed it was called.
Human Friend Rogers suddenly shook out his body and began walking down the corridor away from Commander Tk’tktc. For a moment the Trisk hopped them meant the pain had passed, but he saw that Human Friend Rogers’s face contorted every time he slammed down the painful limb. With a start Tk’tktc realized that the human was deliberately striking down with excess force when bringing his weight down on the painful limb. The human passed out of his focus and Tk’tktc debated activating his comms to attempt to talk to Human Friend Rogers. However he had not seen the comm device on the human’s wrist and the best he could do would be to wake up the other humans and send on them after Human Friend Rogers. The situation resolved itself when the human turned around and began stomping towards the commander. Tk’tktc raised himself to a polite attentive stance and lifted one paw in greeting. However the human stomped right past him without even a flick of his binocular eyes in the commander’s direction. The human reached some predetermined point and swung around again.
“Human Friend Rogers?” Tk’tktc called out as loudly as he could.
The human staggered a bit at the sound and his head swung wildly around before his eyes focused on the commander.
“Comman-” the humans first attempt at a greeting was cut off by a gaping yawn that displayed far too many teeth.
“Commander,” the human finally managed to say.
“You are in pain Human Friend Rogers?” Tk’tktc made sure to put the proper tones of a question in the words.
“A bit,” the human admitted with a shrug. “The mineral supplements didn’t come last shipment so we’re a little low on bio-avali-” the human was interrupted by another yawn.
“Ain’t got enough magnesium to eat,” the human finished, before staring at the commander with a blank face.
“And that causes you pain?” Tk’tktc asked, confusion distracting him from the constraining sweater.
“Muscles can’t work right without it,” the human said. “When we’re sleeping sometimes the calves get all painful without it.We got more coming of course, and we ain’t gonna die, but we gotta live with it till then.”
“And your ...stomping...gets rid of the pain?” Tk’tktc asked.
The human bobbed its head up and down a few times and then yawned again even as his eyes darted towards the door of the communal sleeping chamber.
“I will let you get back to sleep,” the commander said slowly.
The human gave him a grateful smile and trudged off towards his bed, still limping slightly, just before he reached the door he grimaced and stomped the floor again.
Tk’tktc lightly tapped a paw of his own against the walkway and considered how he was going to document this particular early morning disturbance. He was reasonable certain that the human had not been punishing the offending limb for misbehavior, that level of mental disorder he would have noticed before now. However it might be wise to contact a psychologist just ot be sure.

Author Betty Adams Books
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]]><![CDATA[Humans are Weird – Catch and Release - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math]]>Tue, 24 Mar 2026 20:43:46 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-catch-and-release-audio-narration-book-4-humans-are-weird-i-did-the-math

Humans are Weird - Catch and Release - Audio Narration

Second Grandmother slowly tilted her head so that her half blind eye seemed to stare down at the reptilian First Mechanic in front of her workbench. She well knew how effective an intimidation tactic a partially necrotic organ was. She had kept three generations of daughters in line with it. Granted it didn’t work on Undulates or the Gathering, but every species that had eyes respected her half dead one. First Mechanic stared up at her with a defiant squint hiding his amber eyes from her gaze for several moments before relaxing in submission and letting his scaled membranes open to reveal his pupils, wide in the dim light of her workshop. Satisfied that he was properly cowed she drew in a broad breath.
“Why?” she asked, remembering to deepen her tones to express sternness to the reptilian more used to communication with vocal chords, “do you want access to the humans’ personal interest files?”
“It doesn’t need to be all of the humans,” First Mechanic said, his tail twitching in a display of nervousness that highlighted his tongue flicking out to clean his lips. “Just the one I indicated-”
“Humans,” Second Grandmother interrupted him, quite enjoying the transgression sensation the act of impoliteness gave her, “are very chary of sharing non-essential information.”

“I am aware,” First Mechanic grumbled as his feet kneaded the ground under him.
“They insisted on strict rules on the sharing of information as their right of acceptance into the larger community,” she went on. “I will need a formal justification before I even consider giving you access to that information.”
First Mechanic hissed and sputtered in frustration and then swung his tail in a wide gesture that she believed indicated a direction he wished to draw her attention to. However she was unable to perceive the intended direction.
“That!” he burst out.
A long moment stretched between them in the dusky silence. First Mechanic was now still and focused on her, his amber eyes blinking steadily in the dry air.
“I will need more specific data,” she finally prompted him.
“Can’t you see them out there?” First Mechanic demanded.
“I cannot see anything outside of my workshop,” she reminded him, reaching up with her tongue to indicate her mostly dead eye.
First Mechanic hissed in a disturbed tone and bobbed his head in apology.
“The humans,” he began, “are out perusing insects.”
He waved his tail in the same gesture to indicate their location.
“You might be aware that the local grainivorous species are experiencing a mast production season,” he said.
Second Grandmother let her triangular head rotate in agreement.
“I fabricated some protective coverings for Second Grandfather’s plants,” she told him. “He was quite distressed when they devoured an entire season’s worth of growth and development.”
“Well the insects have entered a phase where their primary mode of travel is a very quick jumping motion,” First Mechanic said.
His body gave an odd spasm that Second Grandmother suspected to be an attempt to imitate the motion of the jumping insect.
“The humans,” First Mechanic licked his lips in confusion. “This morning I came outside to bask and found Ranger Benji crouched on my favorite basking rock.”
“Did you ask him to move?” Second Grandmother asked him in the gentle tone Second Grandfather had taught her to use to diffuse resource conflict in their little ones.
“Of course,” First Mechanic, “or rather I tried, but before I could even ask Ranger Benji sprang off of the rock and caught at something with his hands. It was one of the insects. It got away but Ranger Benji followed it. I was still muzzy from sleep cold.”
“Aren’t the sleeping accommodations heated?” Second Grandmother asked sharply. “I personally installed the circulation systems.”
“Well yes,” First Mechanic admitted, “but the circulation system has been glitching. I wanted to troubleshoot it myself before I brought it up to you.”
“You should have brought it up to me immediately,” she said with an irritated click.
“Please note that I was muzzy from sleep cold,” he pointed out. “Anyway I climbed up on the rock and watched the humans as I warmed. They were all running around the meadow catching the insects.”
“What did they do with them?” Second Grandmother asked.
“They would just let them go,” First Mechanic explained reaching up a fist of claws to rub at his eyes.
Second Grandmother had to fight back a wince and remind herself that the reptilians had literal armor on their outer membranes and hardly needed to avoid scratching.
“If they caught a particular larger or aesthetically pleasing one they would show it to the others and admire it together, but for the most part they simply let them go,” First Mechanic said with a huff.
“Ranger Benji seemed to be the instigator of the behavior,” First Mechanic went on after a long pause. “I began to suspect that he had arranged this to facilitate some research project, but I was unable to ask him before the morning shift began and the humans dispersed. Due to the sleep muzzy I wasn’t able to identify any specific humans other than Ranger Benji. So all I want,”
First Mechanic took a half beat of conversation to open his eyes wider and angle his head to maximize his neo-natal appearance.
“All I want is to know if Ranger Benji has a background in entomology,” First Mechanic said.
Second Grandmother couldn’t quite help the amused angle of her mandibles even if she was far too old for her neck frill to betray her amusement at the simple begging.
“I will see what I can get for you,” she finally agreed. “This is rather curious behavior and bears further inspection.”

Author Betty Adams Books
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]]><![CDATA[Comic Humans are Weird - Totally Safe - Dustbunny's Records]]>Tue, 24 Mar 2026 01:56:07 GMThttps://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/comic-humans-are-weird-look-at-it-dustbunnys-records

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