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“Ah,” he said. And, “Hm.” Shuffle shuffle shuffle. “Camouflaged base camp. Camouflaged hide. Camouflaged clothing?”

“All the better to avoid any predators, should they be present,” she sang.

“Mrrmmph…” shuffle shuffle. “Hu'lu'a is sending most of this nonsense anyway. For science,” pronounced, something hated I must tolerate for the greater good. “We will deploy the basics and send clean food by drone. You will record all aspects of life on Toxic Island bar the normal,” eating, ablution, and assorted waste disposal, “and you will refrain from any and all forms of vainglory.”

“Understood and obeyed,” T'reka bobbed. She would only refer to herself as T'reka the Inquisitive in her private and personal journal. For everything else, she was T'reka the Mad.

She watched with bated breath as he lined up the papers anew. And only breathed out when the stamp of approval descended on each and every page.

“You may go forth and commit science,” pronounced, disgusting thing I no longer have to be involved with. “We will send the details to your domicile.”

T'reka only dared breathe properly after she shut the door behind herself.

Cleared!

Order your copy now!

[WARNING: Owing to time constraints, you may only be able to get the version with a pending ISBN. I apologise for this lapse and shall endeavour not to cut it so darn close next time.]

Please share the good news :D

Dear makers of Pages for Apple…

WHY?

Why did you remove the functionality that enables writers like me to replace text with invisibles?

Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the arse it is to go through 350-odd pages looking for single asterisks and then MANUALLY REPLACE THEM with page breaks?

DO YOU?

Sincerely, one writer who is almost out of hir flipping mind.

COMING SOON!

I’ve nearly finished editing, dear readers, and I am going to attempt to break this one up into chapters. Something I’m admittedly not very comfortable with.

I just need to hurry my beta-readers up a smidge.

Fingers crossed, I get this out for the yuletide rush!

Challenge #00665 - A300: PDA PSA

“A peck on the cheek” means something completely different when dealing with avioids.

[AN: I now have 66 instant stories to go before I start working on the next anthology. Yay. Also I’ve been awake since Ofuck in the morning and my wrists are hurting and I’ve had an asthma attack and it’s not even dawn yet. My life is one huge roller coaster. Anyway - story time!]

Human habits were fascinating. And when one of the human keets pressed hir rubbery lips to the side of T'reka’s face, she discovered a new sensation.

She’d observed the humans lip-pressing before, but until now, she didn’t realise that they were creating a slight suction as they did so.

The child departed with the familiar squeaky-suction noise of the human lip-press. Now it made sense. “What is greeting mean?” she asked Su-syn.

“The kiss? That was mere peck on cheek. Ze likes you. As friend.”

“Peck… on cheek…” T'reka considered. The words translated, but the meaning? “My folk is make-for hostile action.”

“Well… yes. You face much sharper than ours.”

Humans. They could understand the strangest things, and find others to be immense obstacles.

[Muse food remaining: 33. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]

Coming soon to all good eBook stores near YOU!

[Late 2014 - early 2015]

Beta-readers are now going through over one hundred and twenty thousand hand-crafted words for your reading pleasure. We carefully select the best words in the best combinations to ensure that your science fiction is not only plausible, but also fun and enjoyable to read.

We care about your reading comfort.

Watch this blog for further bulletins, and be sure to spread the word.

Challenge #00663 - A298: Brawk?

T’reka meets a chicken

Her heart was already pounding as she scuttled from hiding place to hiding place in the human settlement. Their buildings were partially subterranean. Though some sat above the ground. Far above the ground. On a pole.

T’reka almost had a coronary when one of the residents of the strange little house said, “Cake?”

She remembered her breathing, and watched as her vital signs returned from red-lines. Only then, did she investigate.

“Cake… cake… sweet-sweet-sweet.”

There were… avians… inside the little house. Round things with tiny heads and rubbery, wobbly crests.

“I don’t have any cake. I do not have sweets.”

“Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet!” The creature seemed agitated.

T’reka backed away and it went back to saying ‘cake’ again.

*

T’reka watched the birds in the company of Su-syn. “They are not intelligent.”

“Dumb as bricks,” Susan agreed cheerfully. “Why would you think they were?”

She shrank a little in mortification. “Their calls sound much like Numidid words.”

“Really? What do they say?”

“Mostly… ‘cake’ and ‘sweet’. That one…” T’reka indicated a crowing rooster, “sounds like it is dying a horrible death.”

Su-syn found this funny.

[Muse food remaining: 34. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]

Challenge #00658 - A293: Politically Correct

“I wouldn’t say *we’ve* made that much progress. Our euphemisms have, though.”

“It’s ‘Avian Catastrophan’.”

“No, it’s simply Avian. Or Avian Citizen.”

“But some of them aren’t citizens. They still have resident status in Kal'rike.”

“Only because Kal'rike’s run by the most anal bureaucrats since time began…”

“Ladies,” said the Numidid of contention. “I am fine with merely 'Bird’. I know it has connotations, but I can hear the capital and I can hear the respect.”

They stared at her. “Really? Does this apply to all Numidid?”

“We may have to undertake a survey…”

[Muse food remaining: 37. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]

Challenge #00657 - A292: Fascinating in Retrospect

T’reka meets an amorous cassowary. Hilarity ensues.

Boo boo boo…

T'reka looked up from her lunch to discover a giant in the clearing. Were it not for his solidly blue-black plumage, he could easily be mistaken for a male of her own species. But he was clearly more dinosaur than Bird.

The cranial capacity was a dead give-away.

He was puffing himself up. Engorging his wattle and showing off his plumage whilst saying, Boo boo boo.

Lonely she may be, but not that lonely.

T'reka discretely checked her HUD, and found that none of the humans were anywhere within hearing range of her distress call.

The saurian bird stepped closer, revealing talons that could tear her to shreds. This was most definitely a bird from a death world.

She could not run away. Not along the ground. Those long legs would easily catch her if he chose to pursue.

Boo boo boo…

Obviously, she did not know how to, nor did she want to, reciprocate his attentions. And further good news, his display involved circling.

Calling for help would be pointless.

Boo boo boo…

Running away along the ground would be pointless.

A vigorous display of aggression may encourage a similar response from him.

Therefore, the only way to go was up.

T'reka abandoned her food and scurried up the nearest tree as fast as she could scramble. The giant on the forest floor startled away for a handful of seconds and then investigated her lunch box.

One small sacrifice for science.

Belatedly, T'reka began taking notes into her lifecorder.

“Subject is a previously unseen bird, presumed evolved over introduced. Subject mistook me for one of his species’ females and initiated what I must assume to be a mating display…”

*

Susan was laughing behind her hands. So hard that tears  spilled from her eyes.

“I am not understanding this display,” said their scientific guest.

“On one hand, I’m amazed we have cassowaries,” chirped Kori. “We haven’t finished clearing terran biota for this planet. On the other hand… in retrospect… it’s funny.”

“I’m sorry,” Susan squeaked. “I keep imagining it…” and with a snort, she returned to her peals of hidden laughter.

T'reka sighed. This was the disadvantage to the question, How was your day?

[Muse food remaining: 38. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]

Next Challanger

How does competitive combat (boxing, martial arts, etc.) fare in the new environment of the Amity universe?

(#00655 - A290)

The humans inside the roped-off square wore heavy padding on their hands, heads, and torsos. They faced off in formal postures that a number of them called Markisuvkwinsbree.

T'reka lit on Calico’s saddle and regarded the match.

“What this happening?”

Su-syn, leaning on her horse, chirped, “Testosterone-poisoning-related posturing. Two male here have rivalry over same female. They thinking aggression display win merit.”

“Is working?”

“Target female walking beach with different male. Definite no.”

T'reka watched. “Old time long gone, me-folk males have similar fight. Very fast. Few rules.”

“Now?”

“Ceremonial display make-for public merit. At-er-leet.”

“Athlete.”

“Tricky word,” said T'reka.

“Many us-folk sport begin fight. Others begin hunt. Very few begin art.”

T'reka tutted and shook her head. Deathworlders.

[Muse food remaining: 40. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]

Challenge #00654 - A289: But Why?

Curiosity in humans vs. numidids, how the adults handle it in children

Before the attitudes changed, it went like this:

Humans…

“Momma? Why is the sky blue?”

“Some say it’s a reflection of the ocean. Some say it’s dust particles. Others sat it’s the air refracting the suns’ light. I think it’s a little of all of the above.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I have a cookie?”

“After dinner.”

“Aaaaaawwww…”

Numidid…

“Firstmother?”

“Yes, Tyrtyr?”

“Why are the plants here dangerous?”

“Because the scientists analysed them and told us they are.”

“Yes, but… how did they get that way?”

“We have already forwarded that question to the proper authorities, Tyrtyr,” she lied. “You must wait in faith and patience for the answer. If it exists.”

“But—”

“The next thing I want to hear from you is, ‘yes, first mother’. Now go learn your homework.”

Sigh. “Yes, Firstmother.”

She watched her chick move into her cote, and then dived for her co-wives. Literally. They were five Leaps below in the markets.

“I think Tyrtyr is in danger of Scientific thought. She persisted in seeking explanations beyond the accepted answers…”

Her co-wives gasped.

“No…” whispered her gene-mother. “I was so careful…”

“Nobody blames you,” said the third wife, who certainly did. “These things happen, sometimes.”

“We must discourage her at once.”

[Muse food remaining: 40. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]