Unpredictable
Kanin
The Human Conundrum
The bright pink fluff upon Human Lilly’s head had faded to a pale shade—no longer sparkling with brilliant highlights—and Kanin feared for her. When his people changed color like that it usually meant they were nearing the end of their life cycle.
For all her loudness and terminal clumsiness, Kanin liked the newest human.
She bared her teeth more often than the other human had—Kanin cringed in shame whenever he thought of Human Jansen and how he’d betrayed his captain with her—and she was always trying to help.
Always.
Yesterday, he’d found her in the kitchen during Krava’s cooking time, vocalizing incessantly as she handed him ingredients for the end-shift meal. Krava had withstood the little human’s persistent questions and her infectious bursts of laughter whenever she said something that amused her with the stoic fortitude of a Cavvedon who’d risen to the rank of second in command before his fifth molting.
Krava hadn’t even sub-vocally requested his help in helping him remove her from the cooking area.
In fact, Kanin almost thought the Cavvedon liked her chaotic noises.
But then, the captain had liked Human Jansen, so perhaps this attraction to the human females ran in the blood.
Pausing at the door to the leisure room, Kanin studied Human Lilly as she sat bent over her tablet on the couch.
For once, she was silent, her entire being focused on the words laid out on the screen before her.
Humans were strange. She was observing static words, not a feed. What could be so all-consuming in words that did not move?
Tapping his blunted nails against the doorframe, Kanin waited until Human Lilly looked up at him. Like a switch, she went from calm, contained focus to a burst of noise upon seeing him.
Even her face was unable to stay still.
She bared her teeth. Her eye coverings fluttered. The strange dent the crew had observed in her cheek when she smiled appeared.
Strange. She seemed healthy enough. Although the color in her hair-stalks had faded, her skin was the same peachy-hue it had been before.
Kanin stepped into the room and dipped his head in greeting. “Human Lilly, I am glad to find you well.”
The diminutive human blinked. “Thank you. I’m glad to be well.” She paused, her eyebrows coming together slightly. “You, too, look well.”
Ahh. Xar and Dral had mentioned that she was trying to be better about following cues with the crew. There had been an incident several weeks ago where she’d mistakenly made the other two believe she had ritualistically killed one of the crew and she’d been working on trying to make sure such an occurrence didn’t happen again.
That was a wise approach, Kanin thought. He’d do well to follow her lead in this.
“Do you require medical assistance?” he asked respectfully.
“I…don’t believe so. But thank you for asking.”
Her lips turned up in one of her smiles, but she didn’t bare her teeth this time. Kanin found he was strangely disappointed by that.
Human Lilly’s teeth were not frightening like some of the species he’d met in his travels. They were straight and blunt and didn’t engender much fear.
She’d had to explain about smiling to him and he’d been surprised to discover it was considered both a greeting and a sign of friendship among humans.
Human Jansen hadn’t smiled. Not like Human Lilly.
Especially not after the incident.
Shame rose like a tidal wave within him and Kanin ducked his head so Human Lilly wouldn’t see it. He’d been foolish to accept the other human’s request to have a drink with her. Seeing as how Human Jansen had never sought out his company before, he should have been wary.
But he hadn’t been.
She had been mated to the captain, after all. Cavvedon’s took their mating promises too seriously for it to cross Kanin’s mind that the human would be unfaithful.
One glass of Elakian brandy and his senses had been compromised.
They’d been docked at a space station, the captain busy unloading their cargo and working on securing their next job. Human Jansen had asked him to accompany her out to the concourse and they’d ended up in that filthy bar at the end of the strip.
One drink later, he’d betrayed his captain and brought shame to his line.
It was only luck and the cool mind of Captain Krog that had kept him from being cast out, left to fend for himself aboard the station. Krog had taken one sniff of him and turned his towering glare on the human.
In less than two cycles, Human Jansen had found work elsewhere and it had been announced that Human Lilly would join them.
Human Jansen had been gone several weeks now and Human Lilly had settled into her role as the new engineer. For all they worked the same position and came from the same species, she didn’t think like Human Jansen, though.
He’d found her with her head cocked, staring blankly at one of the air ducts one day. When he’d questioned her, she’d laughed and told him she was just trying to figure out how to make the oxygen regulators more efficient.
More efficient.
This ship was already more efficient than any other Kanin had worked on. The air recyclers didn’t spew out foul air and the lights never flickered during the work cycles.
They even had abundant water aboard.
Eyes drifting up to the pale pink fluff on her head, Kanin cleared his throat. “Your hair stalks have lost color, I was concerned you were ill.”
Human Lilly touched her hair, a toothy smile crossing her face. “Oh. Right. The color fades after a few weeks. Pink’s hard to keep bright.” Fingers still toying with the pale strands, she studied him. “When someone’s color fades on your people does that mean they’re sick?”
Kanin nodded. “Dying.”
“Oh.” Human Lilly’s smile lost some of its brilliance. “That’s terrible. I’m fine though. The dye is only semi-permanent. It’s supposed to fade.” She leaned forward and pointed to her scalp. “See how my natural color is coming through at the roots? When the artificial color fades correctly, it makes the root line less noticeable.”
Kanin studied her head. He did see where the starlight color she’d worn when she first arrived on the ship was coming through. If the bright pink hadn’t faded, it would be a hard line. Instead, the newly faded color allowed the starlight color to blend somewhat.
Ingenious.
Humans were so adaptable when it came to things like this.
Bowing his head, Kanin stepped back. “Thank you for explaining. My concern has been alleviated.”
Human Lilly sat up and looked him in the eye. Another oddity peculiar to the human species. They didn’t seem to have the same inborn knowledge of when a species was physically superior to them and how they should avoid eye contact.
Or perhaps they simply didn’t care.
Kanin had heard stories of a single human aboard scouting parties saving entire crews through sheer willpower.
He’d dismissed the stories when it had only been Human Jansen he’d known.
Now, though, he thought there might be some truth to those tales. Human Lilly was resilient. Odd. Adaptable in a way many of the species he’d met were not.
She’d colored her hair because it amused her and sang strange songs whenever the mood struck.
Humans were unpredictable.
And that, perhaps, made them the most frightening race in the known galaxies.
The End
This isn’t the end of Lilly’s adventures. Stay tuned for the next installments of The Human Conundrum in upcoming newsletters.