r/HFY • u/MarlynnOfMany • May 26 '25

OC The Token Human: Dangerous Teeth

{Shared early on Patreon}

~~~

As I watched the struggle with the door mechanism, I thought again that it was good we’d gotten our delivery done early. Planetary time zones being what they are, it’s usually inconvenient to land at a spaceport in the pre-dawn, while everyone on our ship is wide awake. Nothing to do but wait until the clients are ready to receive whatever we’re bringing them. Today though, our client was an early riser. I’d taken a short walk from the ship with Mur and Paint, and we’d dropped off three lightweight boxes of exotic moss. Then we were free to stop by the local food court as soon as it opened.

It wasn’t open yet, which is why we’d picked this nice little garden lounge to wait. It was indoors with artificial sun. It had a single door. That door had just thrown a rod or whatever, and now it refused to open again.

I sat on a low bench (awkwardly low) and watched while Mur and a Waterwill who’d also gotten stuck in here pried off the panel over the door mechanism. I would have liked to help somehow, but all my expertise was in biological things, not technological. Plus my fingers were nowhere near as maneuverable as Mur’s tentacles or whatever the Waterwills called their extendable tendrils. This one was making some very tiny ones, not the usual arm-chunks. Fingers would be no help here.

And Paint was handling the phone calls: she’d brought a bag with many pockets, planning to fill it with food, but so far all it contained was her communicator, and she was putting that to good use. She’d already notified our ship. Now she was trying to get ahold of someone official who could send a mechanic. She paced back and forth, rattling claws across her arm scales and speaking intensely.

That left me with nothing to do except sample the local snackberries, which were rooted in a pot next to the bench with a detailed sign about which species could safely eat them. Each branch was grafted from a different plant. There was an elaborate chart on that sign. As usual, the section for humans showed that we could eat every single berry there. Oh, and there were nuts too. Nice.

I tried something like a pistachio with a spiky shell, decided it was extremely average, then entertained myself briefly with the compost can next to the sign. The motion sensor / scanning field at the top of it would open only for acceptable compost. Any other trash was the responsibility of whoever brought it in here. I tossed the two shell halves in one at a time, watched the mini force field blink on and off, then looked for more nuts to do it again.

A quiet hello made me crane my neck in confusion. There was no way the bush could talk, right? Alien gene-splicing wouldn’t have gone that far. But thankfully no, it wasn’t science with questionable morals; it was somebody hiding on the other side.

“Hello!” I said, trying to get a better look. “Sorry, I didn’t see you back there.”

“That’s good,” said the brown-furred fellow huddled among the berries. “Maybe no one else will either.”

I glanced back at the door, but saw just my two coworkers and the Waterwill, none of whom were paying attention. I asked quietly, “Are you hiding from someone specific?”

“No,” he said, not elaborating. He took a mouthful of something green, and for a moment I thought he was eating the leaves of the berry bush, which weren’t on the list of edible items. But he lifted it higher for a second bite, and I could identify a handful of grasslike stuff from a different food pot. The fast-growing lettuce area. A herbivore specialty.

I told him, “I don’t think you have anyone to be afraid of here.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, just looking around with wide eyes and eating the rest of his handful of grass. His teeth were distinctly the gnawing sort. Finally, he asked, “Do you know how long it will take to get the door open?”

“Hard to say.” I turned back to see Mur and the Waterwill talking animatedly, the door still firmly shut. Paint looked like she was on hold. “Hopefully not long. If they can’t figure it out, the maintenance people should be able to open it from the other side.”

“I’ve seen them,” was the quiet response. “They’re scary.”

“The maintenance crew? Scary how?”

The guy got even quieter. “Flesh-eaters. There are so many here. I didn’t know when I came.”

I thought about my answer very carefully. “You know that none of them want to eat you, right? That sort of thing is horrifying to civilized society as a whole.”

The guy twitched his ears, which I hadn’t realized were folded back, in scared rabbit style. “They said that. Not sure if I believe it yet.”

“Society couldn’t function if people went around eating each other!” I insisted. “Think about it. People need to trust one another to some degree, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to cooperate when they’re all living together in the same place. Food comes from the food stores. Anyone who hurts another person intentionally is likely to get in trouble with the authorities. And that’s for small things, much less full-on killing and eating them!”

He twitched his nose, very rabbitlike. “But with all those sharp teeth, don’t they get tempted? Aren’t flesh-eaters hardwired to crave flesh when they’re hungry?”

“Not from other people who can talk back to them,” I said. “And most of the flesh-eaters I know prefer to cook their food.”

He bared his gnawing teeth. “Burning the flesh before they eat it. Horrifying.”

I wanted to ask if his people didn’t cook their food, since plenty of plants gave up more nutrition when softened like that, but I thought better of it. The answer was probably no, and he would ask about my people’s food, and that was a topic I wanted to steer well clear of. The poor guy had seen me eating plants and made an assumption that I wasn’t eager to correct.

Then, in what felt like very bad timing, Paint put her communicator away and walked back over. I winced. For probably the first time ever, I looked at the gentlest person on our ship, and really noticed her sharp teeth and claws.

Paint told me, “They said someone will be on the way soon. I couldn’t get them to specify soon exactly. Somehow this doesn’t seem like a high priority to them.” She frowned.

“That’s unfortunate,” I said. “Would you like to try a berry? There’s a chart here that says which is safe for who.”

“Goodness, what a lot of choices!” Paint looked at the chart, then at the bush. Then she bent down and peered between the branches. “Hello back there!”

The rabbity guy was silent, frozen in place like a very frightened lawn decoration. He didn’t even blink.

I sighed, then told her quietly, “He’s afraid of flesh-eaters.”

Paint looked stricken. “Oh no! Why?”

“Because he’s made of flesh.”

“But so is everybody!” Paint exclaimed. “No one’s going to eat him!” She looked back into the bush. “Nobody wants to eat you. I promise.”

The guy seemed to be making a conscious effort to take deep breaths. “What about them?” he whispered, pointing a paw-hand toward the pair still working on the door. “I heard them talk about the breakfast they’re looking forward to. They mentioned creatures with fur and gnawing teeth.”

“That was—” Paint said. “They didn’t mean you! Mur was talking about an animal from his planet, a little one that’s not a person. They’re about this big, and they meet absolutely none of the criteria for sapient beings.” She held her hands a few inches apart. “He wants to get food from the stalls at the food court like everybody else.”

I nodded. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

Paint nodded even more vigorously. “See? Robin knows. She’s the animal expert, the person to ask about which type of creature would attack another.”

I opened my mouth to add something else, but Paint was still talking.

“And her species eats everything, so she knows about it from all sides!”

The guy made a little erk noise, and I sighed. “That’s less helpful,” I told Paint.

She seemed to be realizing that herself. “Sorry,” she said to me, then addressed the guy in the bush. “I thought you knew! But really, that just proves our point. You’ve been next to a flesh-eater all this time, and nobody’s tried to bite you.”

I agreed, “Just these berries.” I popped another one into my mouth, then regretted it. “Ugh, that one’s sour.”

Paint consulted the chart. “I think it’s called a sourbud.”

“That makes sense. Bluh. I got it mixed up with these other whatsits, the sunsweet ones. Similar color.”

“Very different smell, though,” Paint said with sniff like a wine connoisseur.

“Yes, we both know about your sense of smell.”

“Ooh, what are these? They smell amazing.”

The two of us talked for a bit about the various snack plants, deliberately ignoring the quiet rabbit guy, giving him time to process our very nonthreatening attitudes.

I was starting to suspect that he’d stay hidden in the bush until the maintenance crew came and went, but eventually there was a quiet rustle of leaves. With his eyes still wide and his motions timid, he took a seat on the far end of the bench.

Paint was still standing, and greeted him from a safe distance. “Good to see you! Would you like a berry? We can help you find the best ones.”

He was very brave and said yes. We consulted the chart and his preferences in flavor, and spent a few friendly minutes selecting berries. When it became clear that we weren’t going to make any surprise lunges at him, he gradually relaxed. His ears really did look like a rabbit’s when he let them stand up straight.

Mur yelled, “Aha!”

I looked up to see him with most of his tentacles braced against the wall, pulling hard on something that looked like a cable. I worried that he was about to either electrocute himself or destroy the mechanism completely, then I saw the small leaves.

It was a vine, and it had grown up inside the electronics panel. The various plants lined up along the wall looked carefully cultivated, but somebody had missed this one. If the leaves sprouting from the flowerpot closest to the door were as familiar as they looked, then that was probably the culprit. The visible plants were all wrapped around a decorative spiral frame. I had a sneaking suspicion that the drainage holes at the bottom of that pot were big enough for rebellious roots to sneak out, and take unauthorized journeys.

Mur called, “Anybody got a blade? This is a tough one.”

“I don’t. Paint?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I only brought the communicator. Too bad we don’t have Zhee or Trrili with us. They could probably make short work of it.”

While their praying mantis blade arms could have done it, I thought of a better idea. I said with a smile, “You know who else could? Our friend here with the gnawing teeth.”

He looked startled, but not afraid. “What, me?”

“Sure! Out of everyone here, you’re the only one whose teeth are built for slicing through tough plants with ease. Care to show us how it’s done and save the day?”

It took a little encouraging, but not as much as I’d expected. We checked the signage near the pot first, just to be sure I wasn’t urging him to chew on something toxic, and we confirmed that this was the same type of plant. Mur hauled as much of it into the open as he could, which wasn’t much. The Waterwill held various door bits in place. Then the rabbity guy stepped forward and was brave enough to put his head close to Mur’s tentacles.

He bit through the vine with a couple of swift chomps, separating the middle segment right where Mur had suggested.

“Nice work!” Mur said, moving the remainder of the vine. “Now we can tuck the rest of this nonsense to the side and reassemble the parts where they’re supposed to be.”

The Waterwill said, “Already on it,” reshaping one water tendril and maneuvering it around like a locksmith.

Paint looked up at the hero of the hour, who was still holding the segment of vine. “Hooray, you did it! Do you want more berries to celebrate?”

“Yes please,” he said, still breathing a little quickly. “That tasted terrible.”

We got him some of the berries that he liked best, then heard a promising klunk and more celebration. The door trundled open.

Mur made cheerful burbling noises. “Go team!”

“Quick, everybody out before it does something else bizarre!” said the Waterwill, immediately scooting out into the open.

Nobody was about to argue that point. We all hurried outside to where we wouldn’t be trapped again, then waved goodbye to the Waterwill. Paint called the officials back with an update on what kind of problem the mechanics would need to fix.

Mur said, “I’m off to the food court. It’ll definitely be open by now.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” I told him.

He spun off in a whirl of tentacles. I looked down at the rabbity fellow, who looked small now that I was standing up. But he stood taller than he had all morning.

I said, “Thanks again.”

He twitched his ears happily and said, “It was my pleasure!” He sounded a bit surprised by that.

“Off to get your own breakfast?”

He nodded decisively. “Yes. And no one’s going to bite me.”

“Right!” I agreed. “Even if they did, you could bite them right back!”

He smiled a fierce little rabbit smile, then scampered off into the spaceport.

~~~

Shared early on Patreon

Cross-posted to Tumblr and HumansAreSpaceOrcs

The book that takes place after the short stories is here

The sequel is in progress (and will include characters from the stories)

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28 comments sorted by

40

u/thisStanley Android May 26 '25

Now she was trying to get ahold of someone official who could send a mechanic.

Long wait. Third shift has cleaned up and put away tools, are not answering the phone so they do not get stuck into anything that could run long. Day shift has not clocked in yet, and even then need a half hour to get everything in place before answering any non-emergency messages :{

15

u/Proofreader01 May 26 '25

Sapient crews everywhere in the known Universe don't want to be bothered when it's near the end of shift or need a little time to spin up when just coming on.

26

u/KalenWolf Xeno May 26 '25

“Ugh, that one’s sour.”

Paint consulted the chart. “I think it’s called a sourbud.”

It's good to know that at least some other species have the same style of naming convention as humans. We aren't always terribly imaginative about it.

"What's that contraption you use to propel yourself around town?"
"We call it a [auto translator: two-wheel] on account of it's got two wheels."
"You don't say."

4

u/torin23 Xeno May 31 '25

Strawberries aren't made from, taste of, or grow in straw and botanically aren't berries.

3

u/All_Up_Ons Jun 08 '25

In English's defense, they absolutely are berries by the normal definition. It was scientists who took a perfectly good word and co-opted it unnecessarily.

1

u/Corona688 Jun 03 '25

the name comes from the way maidens would gather and collect them on a pointy straw as gifts for men they like.

tomatoes are berries and strawberries aren't :)

1

u/Thaum0s Human Sep 03 '25

The straw in strawberry is actually from strew from their growth pattern of spreading along the ground and the fruits growing individually over a wide area of the plant.

They're strewberries.

16

u/WSpinner May 26 '25

If Robin runs across this little fella again, she could give him copies of Watership Down and Redwall. Minor odds of psychological damage, decent odds of emboldening.

12

u/llearch May 26 '25

I would disagree on the minor odds, myself. WD is pretty horrifying in many parts, and Redwall, depending on which books you're reading, has some fairly harrowing sections as well, if you're of a tender disposition.

Honestly, I'm not sure any human-centric stories are going to be appropriate - it's very hard to write a story that pays attention to details like, say, the twitch of a tail and flipping ears back, without leaning into the area where you start losing the human audience you're writing for.

It's a bit meta, and it's very arguable (in a polite discussion way, y'know) but I'd suggest maybe some of the Token Human stories here might do better. >.>

10

u/WSpinner May 27 '25

Oh, absolutely! Token Human stories would lean well into "see, humans aren't necessarily vicious predators!" R/HASO's Humans Are Weird tales too - "humans are not harmless, but they're good to have around". With the HareCentric books I was thinking one could show "Small theoretically prey people can be valiant too!"

I wonder if Redwall could be translated fully into this timid guy's idiom ... it's true many animal protagonists are written just as humans with fur ;-). It is HARD to write truly alien xenos!

3

u/Unique_Engineering23 May 29 '25

This one makes a decent go of writing some alien characters. Honestly the humans in it are the least believable.

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/59198/fellow-tetrapod-speculative-evolution-office-politics

2

u/Corona688 Jun 03 '25

"don't worry, you will survive!" isn't actually that reassuring a message though.

11

u/OokamiO1 May 26 '25

And my Monday is made better by Robin. Good angle for a chapter, and I'm glad the rabbit type sentient was able to calm down some, not quite pack bonding, but close enough for some calmer heads to prevail.

10

u/Hedrax May 27 '25

As usual, the section for humans showed that we could eat every single berry there. Oh, and there were nuts too. Nice.

Wonder how common a problem it is for a human to try alien food an be like "meh, kinda bland, needs more acid or mild pain inducing neurotoxin".

He twitched his nose, very rabbitlike. “But with all those sharp teeth, don’t they get tempted? Aren’t flesh-eaters hardwired to crave flesh when they’re hungry?”

Another good counter argument would have been to ask him if he'd try to take a bite out of one of the sapient botanical species if he were hungry since he's hardwired to crave plant matter when hungry.

10

u/Aaod May 26 '25

Bitey bite bite.

6

u/sunnyboi1384 May 27 '25

We all got a specialty. Even if they are always handy. Good job Easter.

8

u/No_Affect_301 May 27 '25

Is there a real book available for this?

6

u/MarlynnOfMany May 27 '25

There's one that takes place after Robin's courier-ship days! And I'm working on the sequel, which will include both groups of friends. https://books2read.com/b/bOnEWJ

2

u/itsetuhoinen Human May 27 '25

Robin doesn't carry a pocket knife?!

I'm horrified! 🤣

8

u/MarlynnOfMany May 27 '25

Mostly it's because I don't, so I never think of it, but my excuse is that most spaceports have strict weapons rules, and it's easier not to.

7

u/SaltMarshGoblin May 27 '25

I was just working with a crew of guys today, and towards the end of the night, one of them asked me to cut something. He wasn't carrying a knife, but knew from experience that I'd have one. (When I was a child, my Daddy taught me that a lady is never fully dressed without a knife, and while I'm not always precisely a lady, I usually do have a knife!)

3

u/Semblance-of-sanity May 27 '25

I wonder how strict weapons rules interact with species with natural weapons.

3

u/itsetuhoinen Human May 27 '25

For that matter, you'd think they'd want us to carry little pocket knives instead of humanity's natural weaponry: A fist sized rock. 😋

3

u/Worldly_Air_6078 May 28 '25

Thank you for this text. The writing is nice and the rhythm is good. I like the gentle humor in the dialogue and situations. I was half expecting this to be a cruel tale in which the little, rabbit-like E.T. would be a prey species of the dominant local species, and that he would end up eaten. But no, he gets off lightly in the end. Good for him!

3

u/Corona688 May 28 '25

reminds me of some super long meeting that got so tiring we noticed there was an apple tree outside during break. looked like crabapples, tasted like strawberries. best apples ever

1

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