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Humans are Weird – Boop- Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

3/20/2026

Humans are Weird - Boop - Audio Narration

“To be fair to the beast,” Grinds said as he settled down into the conference couch, “I would have been sorely tempted to bite the human under the circumstances.”
Grandmother felt her antenna twitch in stern disapproval and was grateful, not for the first time that their lizard like allies were so poor at reading Shatar body language. This child was barely out of his father’s gardens according to his notes and a little inappropriate language was to be expected. She clicked her mandibles in what she hoped he took as a sympathetic manner.
“And what were the circumstances?” she asked as she turned on her recording device.
The reptile heaved a long drawn out sigh that turned into a discontented grumble.
“There’d been canisters of damage to the north fields,” Grinds began, rubbing behind his eyes with one hand. “We’d already lost hectares of new growth to the creatures and we really couldn’t afford it you know?”
“I do not know,” Grandmother corrected him with a gently rebuking tilt of her triangular head.
“Those’re the experimental fields,” Grinds explained. “We’re trying to breed up a mostly native domestic crop. Tweaked a lil’ for nutrient yield you know, added an off-world symbiote to the roots to up the iron production and the like. Well, it worked.”
The reptile gave a rueful grimace and his tongue flicked over his teeth.
“We got the grain to yield plenty of iron,” he said.
“That is what attracted the humans to the project?” Grandmother asked, glancing at the notes.
The lizard waved his tail in confirmation.
“Iron’s a huge problem for ‘em,” he said, “All that blood you know, and they just burn through it with all that bleeding and the like.”
Grandmother flicked an antenna in understanding.
“So the humans got involved with protecting the crop because we couldn’t really handle it ourselves without just killing a lot of the local fauna,” Grinds said. “Turns out it was these local amphibians that were doing the damage. They start out small and keep growing. We didn’t notice them at first because the pre-reprodcutive stage don’t bother the grain-fields, and then for years and years the reproductive stages aren’t big enough to do much damage, and in the standard fields a little loss doesn’t matter, but this was an important seed increase field.”
The lizard heaved a sigh and shifted his position.
“Scent this,” he went on, “these amphibians have a lot more bones than usual. They have a whole set that stick out from the lower ribs. They use ‘em to tear up the banks of the streams to make places to lay their eggs, then they have these big, round bony protuberances on either side of their snouts that they use to punch a hole in the torn up ground. That’s where they put their eggs. Always took a tole on the grain-fields by the banks of the river but it was never enough to be worth dealing with them.”
“I see that the individual in question was significantly larger than usual,” Grandmother observed.
“Yeah, they keep growing,” Grinds repeated. “This one, the humans call her Thumper, she’s probably several centuries old, maybe a millennia or more, not much that can predate ‘em when they get past a certain size.”
“We tried to relocate her ourselves,” Grinds said and his face contorted into a grimace at the memories. “That was a time of madness alright.”
“I read the reports,” Grandmother said. “It was very fortunate that there were no injuries of note.”
“We are pretty tough when it comes right down to it,” Grinds said with and amused glint in his eye, “but the fact that she couldn’t hurt us didn’t change the fact that we couldn’t move her.”
“So you called the humans,” Grandmother observed.
“So we called the humans,” Grinds admitted. “We were a little worried. She had those external bones and humans are pretty soft, but they didn’t have any trouble at all with the capture. They just made use of that massive thermal energy they have and went out in the cold of the morning when she was still torpid from the night. The have a ranged restraint device that shoots nets. So they netted her from a distance and loaded her up into the transport tank before the first sun was even up.”
“It sounds like a perfectly safe operation,” Grandmother said with confusion wrinkling her frill as she looked down at her data pad.
The torn and bloody limbs it displayed contradicted the story so far.
“It up until the humans got bored,” Grinds said with another sigh. “When humans transport anything with a snout and teeth like that they usually bind the maw with reversed adhesive strips, but the shape of her jaw wouldn’t allow for that so they just trusted to the compression container to keep her still and calm.”
“But it didn’t?” Grandmother asked.
“It did up to a point,” Grinds corrected her. “She couldn’t move her legs or tail, or even her neck really, but she was big, bigger than the compression container allowed for and her head stuck out into the cargo hold. It sill would have been fine-”
Grinds paused and shook his head.
“There weren’t enough seats in the personnel transport section for all of us,” he went on. “So one of the humans, the youngest, sat in the cargo space with her.”
“Wasn’t there room for him to maintain a safe distance?” Grandmother asked.
“Ample room,” Grinds said. “In fact he had to unsecure the harness to move into her space.”
“So this human,” Grandmother said. “A trained professional in the field of hazardous fauna removal. Broke protocol to remove his safety harness in a moving vehicle, reached out and deliberately put his hand in the strike range of a creature known to have dangerous teeth?”
“I wouldn’t even call it a strike range,” Grinds said. “She could really only open and close her mouth.”
“Then what happened?” Grandmother asked after a pause.
“The human self applied first aid and tried to hide the event from the commander,” Grinds said. “If he hadn’t mentioned that he’d accidentally let her ingest some of his blood out of concern for her safety we might not have noticed at all.”
“Typical human behavior,” Grandmother observed, letting her frill lay flat on her neck in irritation. “Did he give any explanation as to why he put his hand in that situation in the first place?”
“He said that he was just sitting there staring at her for an hour,” Grinds said, “and she just had that big, round, boopable nose. So he booped it.”
“Booped it?” Grandmother asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion.
“Haven’t you seen the boop reflex before?” Grinds asked in surprise.
“Not that I am aware of,” Grandmother said.
“It gets stimulated in humans a lot around the infants of our species but even adults seem to trigger it,” Grinds said.
He tilted his head to the side and examined her face, then slowly shook his head.
“Yes,” he said in a speculative tone. “I suppose you Shatar don’t have any nose-like protuberances to tempt them, but humans seem to have the urge to lightly tap round things, especially if they are part of a face that demonstrates neonatal proportions.”
“The boop reflex,” Granmother said with a tired sigh. “I will make a note of it.”

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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Comic Humans are Weird - Look at It - Dustbunny's Records

3/19/2026

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Humans are Weird – Boom Boom Boom- Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

3/18/2026

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Humans are Weird - Boom Boom Boom - Audio Narration

“The air itself tasted of the eternal.
The sky split and opened.
Fire lanced across space itself.
The immortal touched the child, and both cried out for the beauty.”

Prince Triclick rubbed his sensory horns ruefully as he finished chanting the poem and cast a final glance over where the silverwings were stored. The graceful long distance transports normally sat in the open field in tastefully arranged clusters around their maintenance sheds. Each one would be anchored with a graviton tether more than strong enough to keep it on the ground even in its passive mode. That is how he had always arranged his wings on his home colony, and that is how he had lost the majority of this colony’s silverwings. A shame that had nearly cost his family the rights to develop this world.
Now the graceful curve of each leading edge of the beautiful craft was shoved under the trailing edge of the one in front of it. Thick cables that couldn’t help but bite into and damage the sensitive sensors that impregnated the flight surfaces crossed over and extended wing surfaces. Over all this, to protect everything from the chaos approaching from the north, northeast the human had thrown a hyper-insulating tarp. The dullest grey surface you could imagined covered the whole in a tight wrap. Each graviton tether was fully activated and the whole thing resembled some humming isopod that had escaped from a world with far less gravity and peace of mind. Seven such monstrosities were lined up at a respectful distance from the next so that if one line of protection failed the rest wouldn’t be damaged.
“That was beautiful,” Ranger Smith said, the admiration vibrating up through Prince Triclick’s feet and drawing his attention back to the present moment.
At least the power of the human’s voice made his sensory horns stop tingling, Prince Triclick thought with a rueful grimace.
“Who wrote it again?” the human asked.
“When she wrote it her name was Thrity-Five Flaps,” Prince Triclick explained. “The entire poem cycle earned her the right to a smaller name and she recorded her next names as Fifteen Trills.”
The human nodded and grunted as he bent down and with an almost terrifying display of force lifted the remaining tarp and began striding back to the main tent that was sheltered in among the trees.
“So you do get thunderstorms on your homeworld?” Private Smith asked.
“None like that,” Prince Triclick stated, glaring back over his shoulder at the black bank of clouds that was gradually surging towards them from the north.
“But you do have some, or how could What’s her Flap have written that poem cycle,” the human pressed eagerly.
Prince Triclick gave a little sigh of relief as they passed under the dense canopy of the forest proper and the potent electrostatic energy began to dissipate in the movement of the branches. .
“We do,” he agreed, “but they are vanishingly rare. The one that inspired that particular poetry was the result of a meteor shower of heavily ionizing fragments.”
The human bobbed his head eagerly as he listened. Private Smith was clearly enjoying this story immensely and Prince Triclick sound himself getting into it as well despite the ominous feeling caused by the approaching storm. They reached the main tent, the one used as a cafeteria and general meeting place just as he was describing how the meteor shower had disrupted power over half a continent.
“Yo!” a rough voice called out. “Stow the tarps and help us secure the edges! The auto cinch failed!”
“Sorry sir!” Ranger Smith said, carefully but quickly boosting the prince from his shoulder. “I gotta get this!”
Prince Triclick mentally licked down his irritation, he really had been at the best part of the story and it rubbed his fur all wrong to end it there, but duty was duty no matter what your species was, and he flapped up to a handy perch. He considered going back to his office, but it shouldn’t take the humans very long to finish cinching down the edges of the tent manually and perhaps Ranger Smith would like to hear the rest of the story while the current storm raged among the uppermost branches of the forest. Prince Triclick pulled out a portable data pad and began working on a few low priority tasks while keeping one ear perked for the sound of Ranger Smith’s footsteps. However he had finished several tasks by the time Sargent Holt strode in announcing that all the hatches were battened, whatever that meant, and he was getting a drink and starting a fire.
Prince Triclick did not like the sound of any of that, from the metaphor he clearly didn’t know, to the concept of a human mixing alcohol and fire, even if they were each in their proper place, but he knew better by now than to attempt to interfere with a determined Holt. Just then the first flash of lightening came through the transparent sections of the tent and Prince Triclick clenched his jaw to keep from shuddering as the massive rolling boom of the thunder followed it. He almost succeeded. The first crack was louder than the team had calculated and overwhelmed the sound dampening layers in the tent.
There was a general start as the majority of the Winged in the tent took to the air and sought out their particular human friend. A general and gentle murmur followed as the humans opened their outermost layer at the chest to let their particular Winged friends find that extra layer of insulation provided by their bodies and their coats. Holt glanced over at Prince Triclick and lifted a great flap invitingly. Prince Triclick eyed the place uncertainly for a moment, he would rather wait for Ranger Smith. However the lightening flashed again, closer now, and Prince Triclick darted for the protective space before the following sound wave could hit.
The insulation on the tent meant that he couldn’t hear the first drops of precipitation strike the roof and for that he was grateful as he snuggled into the soft material of Sargent Holt’s coat. The engineers insisted that shoving your sensory horns into a natural material to mute the sound of thunders storms was a far inferior method to the sound cancelers they developed, but then engineers were rather thick in the skull in Prince Triclick’s opinion. As soon as the sound rolled away he peeled his still stinging sensory horns away from Holt’s coat and blinked up at him.
“Have you seen Ranger Smith?” Prince Triclick asked. “He wished me to finish a story for him.”
Holt nodded.
“Doubt you’ll be able to finish it before the end of the storm,” Holt said.
“And why is that?” Prince Triclick asked.
“Smith is out in the sheds with the rest of the storm watchers,” Holt said jerking his chin towards the rear of the tent.
Prince Triclick blinked up at him in shock. He almost missed the next lightening flash.
“The sheds are nearly uninsulated!” Prince Triclick burst out. “The noise level-”
“That’s just why they like it,” Holt interrupted, bringing his jar of frothy fermented liquid to his lips before expanding on that nonsense.
“Remember humans aren’t as noise sensitive as you wingy folk,” Holt continued, “and lots of humans like the sound of rain. Can’t hear that at all in the insulated bits.”
Prince Triclick pondered this as he ducked his head once more to press his sensory horns into the material of Holt’s coat. When the wave of sound passed, he thought it took longer this time, he looked up at Holt again.
“You are claiming,” he began, “that more than one human would rather spend a storm in an unheated, uninsulated storage shed having their eardrums blasted and there electroreceptors tingled rather than spend it by the-” he glanced over at the fireplace and the primitive nature of that stopped him.
Perhaps there was a bit of inconsistency in being shocked at the one behavior, and passing over the madness of insisting on having a fire in a forest in a storm. Holt gave a chuckle and gestured with his fermented drink at the fire that cracked and sent out a wave of sparks.
“Hey,” he said, “we ain’t all nuts like that.”
He raised the drink to his lips and took a long drought. Prince Triclick stared up at him and felt his astonishment bleed out into a sigh.
“No,” he agreed. “Not like that.”
Another flash came and he tucked his sensory horns back into the coat.

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Humans are Weird – Bloody - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

3/17/2026

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Humans are Weird - Bloody - Audio Narration

The artificial lighting of the classroom illuminated the carcas flayed across the table in a comfortingly sterile light. Second Sister Proxima Alpha Reached her hand gingerly into the stomach cavity and felt around for the sensor that the scans had insisted were inside the unfortunate herbivore. When Fifth Biologist had come in shouting about having solved the mystery of the disappearing sensors she had not known what to expect, but it was not a befuddled and belligerent sextoped with a rope around it’s neck and internal fluids frothing out of its mouth and nostrils. First Ranger had come in and his face had instantly flushed with that odd, dead grief that most humans reacted to terminally injured animals with. He had quietly left to fetch his projectile weapon and had returned to “put the animal down” as the humans called it. Now Second sister Proxima Alpha was attempting to fell a sensor with paper fine filaments through the protective layer of the biological contamination gloves.
“Will Fifth Biologist return soon to aid us?” Second Sister Proxima Beta asked from the other side of the massive beast where she was retrieving another sensor from another stomach cavity, apparently the local fauna dealt with the high content of indigestible fibers in the local flora population by hosting colonies of bacteria in multiple stomachs, a survival strategy Second Sister Proxima Alpha would have been far more interested in if she wasn’t swathed in a biological contamination suit.
“He plans to return as soon as he finishes the parasite decontamination process,” Second Sister Proxima Alpha replied. “He was fairly splattered with the hemorrhagic fluids that this creature had spread in it’s struggle. I believe that the animal even managed to deliver a rather sever blow directly to Fifth Biologist’s face and smear the fluids over all of his primary sensory input points.”
Second Sister Proxima Beta gave a rasp of polite horror which morphed into a click of satisfaction, followed immediately by a wet squelch and the muffled ting of a sensor fin striking a sample tray.
“How did this beast find a way to ingest this many of the sensors?” Second Sister Proxmia Beta wondered aloud. “Most of them should have been above the reach of its neck.”
“The bugger stomped down the sensory tree, that’s how,” came the distorted voice of Fifth Biologist as the doors opened to admit him.
“This creature does not appear to have the mass necessary to disrupt the anchoring applied to the sensory trees,” Second Sister Proxima Alpha observed.
“You’d think” the human agreed.
She heard the human shuffle around near the caudal end of the animal and heard the bone saw begin to hum as the cold lasers powered up. She also heard another horrified rasp from Second Sister Proxmia Beta. Second Sister Proxmia Alpha carefully arranged her neck frill so her smug satisfaction wouldn’t be too obvious when she stood up and looked at Fifth Biologist. For all that they ranked the same this other Second Sister was more than a bit presumptuous. It would be nice to put her in her place when it came to dealing with minor human injuries. The relative inexperience of the other meant that she often over reacted to minor skin injuries. Second Sister Proxmia Alpha wondered idly if it was the bruising from the blow or irritation from the sterilization process that was horrifying the other Second Sister. She came around the carcass and froze. She felt a surge of guilt for having judged the other Second Sister so quickly even as her own antenna curled in horror.
“Don’t attempt verbal communication,” she quickly warned the other Second Sister. “It will be quite the waste.”
“What?” Fifth Biologist asked as Second Sister Proxima Alpha strode towards the nearest counter and picked up a tray with a particularly reflective surface.
She turned and held it up for the human so that he could see his face in the reflection. She was quietly relieved when the human recoiled in fear and disgust.
“Blood-” he gasped out.
“Blood,” Second Sister Proxima Alpha confirmed. “Quite the quantity of it in fact.”
“That six-legged snoot-cow must have whacked my nose harder than I thought when I roped it,” Fifth Ranger said with a laugh. “Then the sterilization chamber must have dried out my own snoot. Dang,” the human glared ruefully at the blood running down his lips and chin and at the drying brown smears spread over the top half of his face, “that looks bad doesn’t it?”
Second Sister Proxima Alpha didn’t reply as she was busily typing away on her datapad. The human noted this even as he picked up a sanitizing wipe to aid in staunching the dribble of active blood flow.
“You’re not snitching are you?” the human demanded as he began to edge towards the door. “I’m going, I’m going!”
“Then, no matter if I am snitching on you you will be in the medical ward long before security gets here,” Second Sister Proxima Alpha said, flaring her frill as sternly as she could under her protective coveralls.
“I’m getting,” the human muttered one more time as he took his blood-smeared face out of the dissection lab.
Second Sister Proxima Beta was frozen in shock as she watched the human leave and Second Sister Proxima Alpha felt her antenna droops in frustration, from the way that the other Second Sister’s frill was rapidly growing pale under her protective coveralls they were not going to get any more productive work done today.
“Come Second Sister Proxima Beta,” she finally said. “Let us clean up and find some nectar pods.”
The other took the suggestion gratefully and they stepped gingerly around the bright red drops that had splattered across the floor.

Author Betty Adams Books
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Comic Humans are Weird - Contest - Dustbunny's Records

3/16/2026

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Humans are Weird – Bloody Knuckles - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

3/16/2026

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Humans are Weird – Blood Moon - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

“The music is certainly,” First Cousin paused and considered how to describe the sounds blasting out from the speakers in the transport, “upbeat,” she finally concluded.
For several moments the only sound she got in reply was the meaty smack of Second Brother’s broad fingers against the control consul's surface.
“Nothing like some of Papi’s old salsa beats to keep the blood flowing on a cold day,” Second Brother said with a laugh as he began to alternate beating the console with what the humans called ‘snapping’ their fingers.
First Cousin tilted her head to regard the massive human speculatively. She had long ago learned to ignore the horrific sound caused by humans rubbing their finger membranes together with such violence and easily focused on what Second Brother was saying instead. She had heard from her more medical cousins that mammals did up and down regulate their blood flow quite a bit more than was healthy for a Shatar. It was one of the many physiological factors that made them such fantastic assets when it came to gardening and harvesting the bounty of this system. Still, she wondered how they could maintain any trace of mental stability if their cardiovascular system could really be manipulated by the mere rhythm of a song.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” Second Brother said, glancing at her with his eyes the color of rich soil.
She pondered a moment over how something so, disturbingly alien could be so beautiful then set the thought firmly in its own row. Rather than translating her thoughts she lowered her voice and spoke in modified Mother. Second Brother tilted his head to the side and listened carefully. His nostrils flaring as if he could catch the scent of her words. She found herself thankful anew that her coworker at least comprehended Mother fluently, she couldn’t imagine articulating such thoughts in the flat, mammalian language.
“Well,” he replied slowly as he seemed to come to a conclusion about her question, “there is something about what you say. The beat, especially if it is produced with low tones, really does effect us. I know that some tribes used drums to stir up blood lust before battle, but how much was the drums and how much came from participating in the ritual I don’t know. Then again every other generation or so there seems to be a scare about how the new music is stimulating the younger generation too much. Then it turns out, once the egg-heads have harvested all the data, that no such thing is happening. Maybe it is just that guys like me get used to working faster with music, so just a Pavlovian association maybe?”
He rotated his head in a rough approximation of the Shatar gesture of uncertain conclusion and First Cousin gave a click of acceptance. Their transport gave a jolt as the wheels passed over another pothole and First Cousin pulled out her notebook to record the coordinates to report to the repair drone system. Second Brother fell silent while she did this. When she signaled she was finished the mammal heaved a massive sigh and tilted his head to indicate the sunbeams streaming down through the clouds and scattering through the surface of the glacial river.
“That’s something,” he murmured. “That’s really something, yeah?”
“It is a terrifying beauty,” First Cousin said in a somber tone. “Lifeless power scattered frozen mandibles of death. The ambient temperature alone can damage even the strongest membranes.”
Second Brother angled his eyes at her and the small muscles in his face contorted his visage into asymmetry.
“The cold ain’t so bad. We get some life out of it,” he said. “That’s why we’re here after all.”
First Cousin spread her antenna in a gesture of dismissal.
“This planet is,” she paused and mulled over her words, “a death trap, nearly sterile, entirely wild, were it not for the super nutrients harvested by the Edwardsilite andrillest we would never consider stringing even these partial gardens. I can find no beauty in such sterility.”
Second Brother glance at her speculatively.
“Do you think diamonds are pretty?” he asked suddenly.
“Diamonds,” she clicked thoughtfully, “That is carbon in a matrix correct? It looks something like ice I think. I cannot say I have ever given it much thought but I cannot say that I derive any pleasure from looking at them.”
Second Brother grunted and tilted his head in acknowledgment of her response. The transport rounded a corner and they began to approach their next harvest site. First Cousin began to reapply the spray insulation to her hands and arms. The doors opened and they stepped out onto the icy surface of the glacial river. First Cousin turned on her imager and scanned the surface below them carefully.
“No rifts in site!” Second Brother shouted from the other side of the transport. “Solid ice four meters down.”
It took First Cousin a few more moments to achieve the same result and she repeated his statements. The safety check done Second Brother activated his boots and began the altered falling motion that humans called skating. First Cousin moved out with delicate steps, feeling roundly grateful for the ice gripping toe socks Second Father had sent her in the last care package. She stepped out into the center of the abnormally smooth circle of ice and activated the inflatable raft before stepping onto it. She pulled the atmospheric reader out of her carry pack and began spinning it on it’s tether to collect super local atmospheric information before the orbital tether activated and redirected the thermal gradient. The cracking sounds of ice and the rattling of polymer ship chains came from one side.
“First tether cleared,” Second Brother called out.
“First tether cleared,” First Cousin replied absently.
Second Brother continued his circle of the harvest site announcing each of the three tethers with First Cousin responding. When he was done he announced he was activating the orbital tether. She felt the gravitational flux and watched the temperature rise on the atmospheric reader. Within moments the ice beneath her began to liquefy and the ice around the circle began to creak and groan as the energy was drained from it and transferred to the circle. The orbital tether soon caused the water to dome upwards at the center, even as its decreasing volume caused the edge of the pool to drop below the surrounding ice, revealing the polymer thermodynamic ring that fenced this little psudo-garden. Second Brother was idly gliding sideways around the ring, his hands behind his back, his eyes on the surface of the ice, presumably preforming a redundant scan of the ice’s integrity.
First Cousin noted the soft glow of the first body in the water and braced herself in her flotation device. The water suddenly surged upward as the melting effect reached the lower surface of the ice-shelf. The gentle gravitational pull of the orbital tether pulled the bodies to the top of the dome and First Cousin reached into the super cold water, held in a liquid state at just below it’s freezing state by the ring, and pulled out the body with the brightest glow. She clicked softly as she recorded it’s measurements and tossed it onto the bottom of the flotation device.
The harvest went smoothly and she found an exceptionally large specimen with an odd growth on the base. First Cousin clicked with pleasure and put it in an isolated carry container to keep it alive for potential up-breeding and to show to Second Brother. He always seemed to like gloating over the larger individuals with her. She imagined his wide grin as he prodded it with one wide finger then announced to the world in general that ‘she was a beaut’. Some of the rare behavioral moments that she could recognize as properly fatherly in the human males.
She called out when she was finished and Second Brother released the orbital tether. Slowly, gradually the manipulated gravity disengaged as the ring bled the heat energy out of the liquid water on the level of the base of the ice shelf, forming a thin layer to catch the gently falling organisms. First Cousin watched the process with her scanner for just long enough to be sure the majority of the Edwardsilite andrillest were once more properly settled in the bottom layer. Technically they could burrow through the entire thickness of the ice if they were too high when it froze, or swim back up if they dropped to far, but when working with species pre-domestication it was never good to stress them if you could prevent it.
“Population resettled,” she called out.
“Re securing tethers,” Second Brother responded.
He had completed that task and was waiting by the side of the rapidly, and evenly, freezing pool to help her from one ice surface to another. She gladly accepted the stable grip, despite the constant shifting of his feet, of his gloved hands as she had to squat down to gather up the flotation device that now doubled as a carrying satchel.
“The thermal transfer is never perfect,” she observed with a sigh.
“Close enough for government work,” he said with a grunt as he handed her up into the cab of the transport.
He swung himself in and they began to move towards the next site as First Cousin quickly peeled the insulation off of her hands and began transferring the harvest to the cooler.
“I found a particularly large specimen today!” she announced, holding out the largest individual.
To her disappointment Second Brother only glanced at it and nodded in a human gesture of polite notice.
“Big un’,” he said before turning his eyes towards the next site.
First Cousin felt her frill droop a bit, but she noted that he still had his gloves on and assumed he didn’t want to get them wetter than they were. She set the specimen down for further prodding opportunities and continued her work. She was just tossing a rather small specimen into the cooler when the wet carry case emitted a hissing noise and partly inflated. First Cousin clicked in annoyance.
“Second Brother calibrate the inflation rate again please,” she requested.
“It’ll be fine,” Second Brother said shifting his gloved hands uneasily.
First Cousin nearly dropped the specimen she was holding in shock. Second Brother had never refused a task in her memory. Still, he was a Second Brother. She put a firm note in her voice.
“It is preventing me from finishing my task and I don’t have the digital strength to calibrate it myself,” she said. “Unless you want these creatures flopping around the cab for the rest of the drive you need to recalibrate the inflation.”
“I’ll get around to it,” the human said glancing to the side in a blatant attempt to avoid her gaze. “Haven’t taken off my gloves yet.”
First Cousin realized that it was a very human, a very guilty gesture and something stirred uneasily in her memory. She didn’t remember seeing Second Brother put on his gloves before they
“Second Brother Hernandez,” she said, working to summon the voice of her First Sister, “why haven’t you taken off your gloves yet?”
Second Brother squirmed in his seat. Some brotherly reactions were universal after all.
“Promise you won’t freak out?” he asked, apparently of his reflection in the window.
“Why do you think I would?” she rejoined.
“You always freak out when this happens,” he muttered, “and it’s really no big deal for a human.”
“Second Brother,” First Cousin summoned Third Aunt’s voice now, “take off our gloves.”
Second Brother growled in protest but slowly peeled off his gloves.
“You promised you wouldn’t freak out!” Second Brother pointed out.
First Cousin stared in horror at the smears and chunks, solid chunks, of rusty red blood that covered his hands.
“It looks worse than it is,” Second Brother was saying. “The gloves smeared it around is all. The chains just took a little skin off my knuckles-”
“Get out the first aid kit,” First Cousin said in brisk Mother as she shook out her frill.
“Now that my gloves are off I’ll just calibrate,” Second Brother started reaching for the partly inflated case.
“First aid kit,” First Cousin snapped. “Now.”
She pondered pointing out that she had not in fact promised she wouldn’t freak out, but decided against it.

Author Betty Adams Books
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Humans are Weird – Blood Moon - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

3/15/2026

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Humans are Weird – Blood Moon - Audio Narration

The earth tone walls of the spacious office suddenly shook with the power of three massive blows, shaking down a shower of the freshly applied texture. Grinds heaved a sigh and shifted his tail on his work couch and looked ruefully at the last third of the end of season report on the blood-grain yeilds.
“Yo! Grinds!” the human voice came though the wall, muffled, but not enough to conceal the eagerness.
Grinds deliberately reached over and activated the comm unit.
“Yes?” he asked, trying to put stern disapproval of the behavior in his voice but he was afraid he just sounded irritated.
“Oh Right! Comms!” the human responded with a laugh. “Are you coming to the Lunatic Party tonight? Trisk Friend Tstk’sk wants to know.”
Grinds closed his report and turned to the door debating the social impact of demanding to know which human this was.
“Please come in,” he requested.
There was the sound of the human prodding at the door mechanism several times before the door lifted and the human, a dark haired male wearing loose white clothing ducked into the room. He was carrying a drink canister that was venting a not unpleasant fragrance and no little steam in one hand.
“So are you coming?” the human repeated the invitation when he had reorintated his body vertically.
“Human Friend Bon Jovi,”Grinds identified him. “I was not aware that there was a celebration of human madness planned for tonight.”
Human Friend Bon Jovi blinked at him, his odd round irises dilating and contracting as he processed Grinds’s statement. Then the human threw back his head and laughed.
“Nah, nah,” he said with a dismissive wave of the hand not holding the steaming drink. “Different word that. Lunar, moon, there’s a party on to view the moon tonight. It’s early enough, or late enough, that we’re all going to stay up and watch it together. We got a bonfire, drinks, food, all laid out.”
“Did you get permission from Seeps into the Streams?” Grinds asked.
“You betcha!” the human replied, bobbing his head up and down so furiously that it made the back of Grinds’s neck ache in sympathy. “Old Seeps found us this really great spot where the topsoil is really poor so it won’t sacrifice any good growing land, and there are all sorts of old fungal chunks laying around for the bonfire fuel-”
“None of these fungal chunks are going to release hallucinogenic spores when burned are they?” Grinds demanded, his scales prickling at the thought.
Human Friend Bon Jovi snorted and rolled his eyes.
“That happened once!” He insisted.
“Three times,” Grinds interjected in a rasping tone.
“And it was in a completely different biome from this!” the human went on. “Besides, Seeps checked for us. There was nothing in the chunks that won’t be deactivated by the flames.”
“Are you going to be providing mind altering substances to make up for this difference?” Grinds asked.
The human burst out laughing again.
“It’s not like that!” the human finally said.
“You are proving them though?” Grinds demanded.
“My dude!” the human said giving an expansive wave of both hands.
Grinds flinched as the large, steaming drink canister swung wide over his head.
“This is a grain producing colony!” the human enthused. “We breed new grains, we grow grains that were ancient before any of us left our own planets, we see how we can mix and merge grains of all types! It would be like, the deepest offense to all our ancestors if we didn’t have a little recreational fun at a moon themed party!”
“A little recreational poisoning you mean,” Grinds grumbled.
“Potato, pahtatoh,” the human said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“There will be vodka too?” Grinds demanded, raising his tail in agitation.
“No! No, no,” the human quickly corrected him, “but quick catch there! I said this was a grain thing!”
“There will be no fireballs,” Grinds muttered, half a question.
“Well if you mean the official, ancient named brand no,” the human said with a grin. “Who can afford the transport fees when our local stuff is just as good. Better even! If you mean actual fireballs, well,” the human shrugged. “Fire breathing is a skill. I’m not going to try it that’s for sure.”
“Would my presence at this event decrease the likely hood of the other humans attempting to master this skill?” Grinds demanded.
“The only way to answer that question is to find out the fun way,” Human Friend Bon Jovi stated with a grin.
Grinds sighed and moved towards the door and the human gave a whoop of delight, his bare feet dancing across the floor to make way for Grinds.
“So what is special about the moon tonight that it is keeping the entire base up to view it?” Grinds asked.
“It’s a blood moon! The very first one we’ve had a chance to witness on this planet!” Human Friend Bon Jovi enthused as the walked out into the hallway. “We have blood grain blood whiskey for the blood moon too! It’s going to be a blast!”
“And what exactly is a blood moon?” Grinds asked, feeling more curiosity now.
“Oh right,” Human Friend Bon Jovi paused and pondered that a moment. “A full moon with a full lunar eclipse. You know, when the planet gets between its sun and its moon just right? If its a night cycle you can see the moon turn red, like human blood.”
“Thus a blood moon,” Grinds replied flicking his tail in understanding. “But why are you calling it a lunatic party instead of a lunar party? Why the implication of madness.”
Human Friend Bon Jovi paused in both walking and speech to stare down at Grinds, his soft fleshy face peaking over the flowing white clothing he wore. The human finally grinned and gave a slightly odd laugh.
“It’s probably a good thing you will be there to observe,” Human Friend Bon Jovi finally said. “You might want a recording device going.”
With that the human scampered off to greet a fellow mammal and Grinds huffed. He still wasn’t exactly sure why but he felt he would enjoy this party far more from under the safety of something sturdy and immovable.

Author Betty Adams Books
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Humans are Weird – Blood in the Water - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

3/13/2026

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Humans are Weird – Blood in the Water - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

Quilx’tch was quite muzzy from sleep and stared down in perplexity at the water catch basin in front of him. He hiked up his comforter around him, blocking off the fuzzy view of the rest of the massive cleansing room provided for human use. The catch basin really should not be that color, he finally decided, feeling a bit proud of himself for forcing the thought up through layers of sleep deprivation. A stray thought thread suggested that he really should have petitioned the central university for this sector for that assistant when he had the chance, but the blood-berries had been blooming in the south slopes and none of the preservation techniques this base had access to would have preserved the protein structures quite right.
Quilx’tch brushed the pad of one paw over his primary eyes to dismiss the stray wisps of thought.
“I’m getting as bad as Human Friend Scotty,” he said ruefully.
Another stray thought tried to lead him down the path of wondering if human behavior contain was playing a role in his current state.
“It was not as if my University time showed much better behavior,” he clicked to himself idly.
Bloodberries. Yes, the humans called them that because their eyes showed the glittering orbs as a single color. They claimed it was the same color as their primary circulatory fluid. Now, Quilx’tch wondered why he was thinking of that as he stared down at the discolored catch basin.
The material for the catch basin had been harvested from the local rocks. Human Friend Scotty had eagerly explained the process.
“We used to have to carve things like this out of larger chunks of rock,” the human had said. “Now we just grind up the fragments til we get the size we want and then we micro-compress them into shape. Folks like it because it looks like rough granite, smooth with shiny bits inside”
Quilx’tch now stared at the shiny bits visible under the coating of fluid.
“I think,” Quilx’tch said to himself, feeling a bit uneasy. “The humans would also call that blood red.”
He pondered what the substance might be as he walked across the edge of the cold catch basin to gather up his grooming brush and chelicerae pick. He gently pushed the comforter back, letting the harsh cleansing room light sting his secondary eyes as he gently brushed out his hairs. He found his gaze repeated drawn back to the layer of bio-matter, or at least he thought it was bio-matter, in the catch basin. Usually Human Friend Scotty was quite careful about cleaning up after himself. So it might not be biomatter after all. Though Quilx’tch couldn’t imagine what Human Friend Scotty would have been doing this early in the morning in the cleansing room. His grooming finished he gathered up his comforter and trotted out to the main sleeping area, massive to his scale, but seeming quite filled by the mass of the human who was currently wriggling into his day clothes.
Quilx’tch scampered over the spider-walk along the wall and tucked his comforter back into his hammock while Human Friend Scotty arranged his protective outer layers against his hairless skin. That task seemingly complete the human reached down for his foot armor and proceed with a Trisk-check. Quilx’tch couldn’t help chuckling anew at that. Why the humans were, to a person, convinced that his kind liked to hide in there foot armor was a mystery, but one that provided far too much amusement on distant base to be probed into too abruptly. That final ceremony over Human Friend Scotty set his binocular vision sniping around the room to locate him.
Quilx’tch waved to catch the humans attention.
“Tiny spider friend on his bunk,” the human stated in the dim but satisfied tone of one fulfilling a checklist.
“Human Friend Scotty,” Quilx’tch interjected.
He knew that if he did not catch the human’s attention quickly at this time of day nothing would keep the human from bolting for the coffee that was brewing in the cafeteria once Human Friend Scotty had located him.
Now the human visible paused in his preparation to lumber out the door of their room.
“What’s up little guy?” the human asked, fighting back a yawn.
“Why is the catch basin in the cleansing room the color of bloodberries?” Quilx’tch asked.
Human Friend Scotty blinked slowly as he processed the question. Then his face flexed and his chin lifted with a grin as he clearly parsed the answer.
“I forgot to rinse out the sink after brushing my teeth this morning!” he said. “Sorry bud!”
The human turned swiftly and went into the cleansing room, which soon emitted the sounds of rushing water. The human came out still grinning.
“All clean!” He declared. “Won’t happen again!”
“Thank you,” Quilx’tch said, feeling distinctly uneasy now. “However that was not my question.”
“Thecolor?” Human Friend Scotty asked in surprise. “That was just my blood.”
The human stared at him with expectancy as he waited the polite six seconds to reply. Quilx’tch felt himself “puffing up” as the humans called it and Human Friend Scotty’s expression rapidly morphed form expectant to concerned.
“Why,” Quilx’tch asked carefully, “were you bleeding into the catch basin this morning as you cleaned your teeth.”
Human Friend Scotty’s face lit up with in the way that Quilx’tch was beginning to understand meant the human had an easy answer to a question.
“You remember I accidentally broke my sonic cleaner?” he asked.
Quilx’tch replied in the affirmative. Watching the human first fumble and drop the item on the floor. Then kick it into the far wall, only to finally step on it, damaging both the device and his foot in the process had been very educational on the value of the spider walks the humans insisted on installing in jointly occupied bases.
“And I told you that I would be switching to the old fashioned method of teeth cleaning?” Human Friend Scotty went on.
“Mechanical friction and chemical layering with a brush applicator,” Quilx’tch replied, bobbing his head in a yes gesture.
“Well, you always bleed a little when you switch back,” Human Friend Scotty said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Sorry I forgot to warn you about it, and sorry I forgot to clean my blood out of the sink after.”
Human Friend Scotty seemed to consider this revelation the end of the conversation and without waiting so much as a second for a response turned and left the room, presumably in search of coffee. Quilx’tch paused, waiting for him to come back and explain...something...anything more about the situation. But the door of their room stayed stubbornly closed.
Quilx’tch took a deep breath and ran his paws over his primary eyes.
“Right,” he said to the empty air. “First I will speak to the base medic. Then breakfast.”

Author Betty Adams Books
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Comic Humans are Weird - Clothing Optional - Dustbunny's Records

3/12/2026

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Humans are Weird – Biscuit Recipes - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

3/12/2026

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Humans are Weird – Biscuit Recipes - Audio Narration

Embracesgladly was carefully maintaining her grip on Human Friend Maria as they moved down the corridor of the dry cave system. The lights pained on the ceiling to provide a near surface level of luminosity were just turning orange as somewhere, und upon und of solid rock above them the barren surface of the planet turned away from its harsh, near star. Again the human’s hormone profile changed, grew past the point on the gradient the Undulate had learned to recognize. Mindfully Embracesgladly loosed a gripping appendage to ‘pat’ Human Friend Maria’s main gripping appendage. Human Friend Maria returned the gesture by applying gentle pressure with the full area of her gripping surface to where it cradled Embracesgladly’s mass.
Human Friend Maria’s massive central atmosphere pumps took on a more mechanical rhythm as she shifted from passive to active control of her oxygen exchange and by the time they had reached Human Friend Maria’s habsuite, carved into the glittering granite of the world, the human’s pheromone gradient had begun to shift back into a less abnormal range. The massive mammal paused in front of her door and drew in a deep breath.
“See you tomorrow eh Hugs?” Human Friend Maria said, her voice still sounding a bit weak as it rumbled out of her chest and though the air.
“Unless you would like a sleeping companion,” Embracesgladly offered.
Human Friend Maria’s fibers stiffened and her stripes flushed with various emotions. Embracesgladly was pained to note that there wasn’t a little offense in the mix and when Human Friend Maria spoke her voice was carefully controlled into recognizably cheerful tones.
“No! I’m good. You shuffle on back to your habsuite.”
“Very well!” Embracesgladly tried to put as much cheer in her own voice. “If you need anything in the night remember your door is right beside the waterlock!”
She made a broad gesture down at the shimmering blue hatch and scrambled down Human Friend Maria’s side when the human’s usually powerful arms went limp and released her. The human maintained her stiff, upright posture until her door had opened and the massive mammal disappeared though it. However Embracesgladly felt the thump of the human slumping against the wall before dragging her massive bipedal frame towards the human sized hydration pool.
That was one perk of this world, Embracesgladly mused. There was always plentiful water of the temperature the humans thrived in. She slipped down into the wet corridor and swam slowly towards the medical pod. She pulled herself up into the rapidly darkening medical bay and spread her appendages to get her bearings.
Human Friend John lay on one of the human slabs, emitting a rhythmic sound. The absolutely massive – even for a human – mammal had been complaining of sleep issues and was no doubt here to make sure he wasn’t suffocating in the night as (supposedly) many humans did. However he was soundly asleep by the dim glow of his stripes and the bases chief medic was quietly sorting expired medical patches by an Undulate sized soaking tank the humans kept about two unds above the floor to decontaminate their hands.
“Swim over!” Medic Lurchesover waved to her.
Embracesgladly came to him and started helping with the sorting.
“How goes your personal assignment?” he asked with his dorsal appendages even as he ventral appendages continued to sort.
“It is working,” Embracesgladly responded slowly. “I do feel that I am doing her good.”
“Despite her best efforts?” Medic Lurchesover prodded gently.
“She is participating as best she can,” Embracesgladly replied quickly. “But she does resent needing help.”
“Can you sound that that is actually a common human reaction?” Medic Lurchesover demanded with a particularly wide gesture of his dorsal appendages.
“It does not seem to flow with reality,” Embracesgladly admitted as she felt the surface of a questionable patch. “I just am trying to swim towards my best efforts.”
For several companionable moments they sorted the patches while Medic Lurchesover mulled over her half request-half observation. Finally he set down his patches.
“Have you attention-attention-attention indefinitely?” he asked, emitting a rippling overtone along with the gestures.
Embracesgladly set down her own patches and absorbed his meaning in stillness for several moments.
“I am sorry,” she finally said. “I simply cannot sound how repeated attention touches is anything but a petty annoyance? Are you suggesting I overwhelm her biochemistry induces paranoia with genuine irritation adrenaline?”
Medic Lurchesover rippled with amused understanding.
“It is very confusing to us, I sound,” he gestured in soothing swoops. “You are wise to not simply try it on an emotionally compromised patient.”
“She is my friend, not my patient,” Embracesgladly corrected him. “I have no medical training.”
“Well!” Medic Lurchesover stated as he resumed his sorting. “Why don’t you go try it out on Human Friend John and see how he responds? That should clear the waters!”
Embracesgently waved a speculative appendage cluster in the direction of the massive human who had shifted from a rhythmic to a stuttering and gurgling sound profile.
“I am not a medic,” she gestured slowly, “but are there not issues of consent?”
“Oh, John waived all those consent bits to help with the training,” Medic Lurchesover replied as he dropped a torn patch into the waste bin.
“Isn’t he in the middle of a medical test?” she pressed.
“That he failed hours ago,” Medic Lurchesover said. “You’ll be doing him a favor if you wake him. Remember to do the sound now.”
Embracesgently wasn’t quite firm in the strokes of the thing, but waiving his medical consent to save time and help out did seem like something Human Friend John would do, even if it was, rather especially if it was of questionable legality. So she shuffled across to his slab and with some effort climbed up beside him.
“You need to be on a flat surface,” Medic Lurchesover gestured. “Chest, back, or lap.”
She obediently climbed up on Human Friend John’s wide ribcage, noting again the dark irregularities of scars that intersected his stripes at odd angles.
“Like this?” she asked as she began gently tapping out the words for attention on the central bony structure that supported his internal frame.
“Slower, and don’t forget the sound,” Medic Lurchesover instructed.
Embracesgently slowed her gestured and tried to mimic the sound Medic Lurchesover had been making. It was rather difficult, especially out of water, though she found that if she pulsed the waves from her own surface down into the cavity of Human Friend John’s chest she got better results. As she expected Human Friend John woke at the attention. The sounds he was making cut off with a gurgle and his lights brightened as his eyelids flickered open. He spent several long moments blinking as his bifocal eyes brought the Undulate on his chest into resolution.
Embracesgently continued the supposed soothing method, and despite Medic Lurchesover’s assurance was surprised to see the humans colors rippled as his tension dropped. His face finally stretched into a grin and one massive gripping appendage came up and patted Embracesgently in a soothing human greeting.
“Daw!” the human rumbled out. “Someone’s makin biscuits!”
His face split open in a cavernous yawn and he slumped back, now with contented light radiating out from his stripes. Embracesgently continued her actions until the dimming of his lights showed he was deeply asleep and then eased off the human and his slab. Medic Lurchesover looked rather smug from the set of his appendages but she could afford to be generous. If Human Friend Maria responded to the odd comfort gesture even an appendage as well as Human Friend John did they should begin the very next morning. Still one question was tickling her lagging appendages.
“What are biscuits?” she asked Medic Lurchesover, “and how does this gesture resemble making them?”

Author Betty Adams Books
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Humans are Weird – Blood Moon - Audio Narration - Book 4 - Humans are Weird: I Did the Math

Humans are Weird – Blood Moon - Audio Narration

Humans are Weird – Biscuit Recipes - Audio Narration

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