Taken Aurally

For my project, we were trying to identify microbes that could use partially treated plastic as a food source and break it down further. The carbon bonds in our daily plastics are really hard to get at and break, hence the bad degradation, so breaking some of those bonds through heat and chemicals first can help microbes get access to them. Once we identify a microbe that can do this, we could test giving them slightly less degraded plastic to live on until they develop a way to eat it and go until they either get back to normal plastic or hit a wall where the microbe can't progress anymore (which may be likely).

An alternative approach to breeding (although you don't 'breed' most microbes since they reproduce asexually but instead find strains with mutations that lead to desired changes) would be trying to predict an enzyme that could break the bonds in plastic, engineering it, and putting it in microbes to test if it works. On one hand it could overcome any natural halt selection has but would be initially harder to discover.

The best solution would probably be to find the microbe that can eat the partially degraded plastic, figure out what enzyme is doing the work, then see how the enzyme could be improved to work through plastic in its default state.

Once you have that, the next consideration would be what byproducts are created from eating plastic? Part of the project was hoping that the microbe that could eat plastic would produce a useful byproduct that could be harvested, as an unfortunate reality of our current world is that if it's not profitable it probably won't take hold. But if we wish to put this in a living organism, we need to make sure it won't produce a harmful byproduct, or if it does, then ensuring the organism can quickly turn it harmless before it builds up.

Once all of that is figured out, the next hardest thing would be ensuring that whatever gut microbe you put the plastic eating gene in continues to express it. Since plastic is so hard to use it would probably prefer to use any glucose lying around first, and if that runs out then switch to eating plastic. We could try removing its ability to eat glucose (or whatever other compounds it lives off of), but then it would be less competitive in the gut environment and would require a steady source of plastic in order to not die off.

They do also have eyes, and their vision is actually pretty acute. But their optic and mechanic sensory inputs aren't integrated together like electro-mechanic sense is. So they have these two fairly sophisticated sensory complexes that Barely talk to each other.

No wonder they try to bring the two inputs together in their environment then; picking things up and turning them around allows them to apply both their mechanical and optical senses to the object. They're just trying to make up for a deficiency of neural organisation.

Ok so roads are important infrastructure. A lot of stuff that's important happens on roads. Now, let's imagine that quadrillionaire Matt Stench has decided that the next big tech innovation is the Wide Car. It's a car that takes up six lanes despite seating only one passenger.

The Wide Car is supposed to be the future, and everyone's going to be driving Wide Cars, even though nobody who makes Wide Cars is turning a profit. Employers are offering Wide Cars as an employee benefit, and getting "nah." Some employers are going as far as demanding their employees drive Wide Cars, and the result is that people take time out of their workdays to get in the mandatory gas usage for their Wide Car before driving home in a regular car.

In spite of the fact that the Wide Car is clearly set to fail, there's an enormous push to expand to twelve-lane roads to accommodate a bunch of Wide Cars that simply will not materialize. This is not an organic response to demand, but a speculative investment that amplifies the existing issues with road development for no good reason.

やってしまいました…… pic.twitter.com/h38awrhVal

Very much did in the sense that I literally do not know where my job is at the moment. But, for the time being I haven't been let go because nobody else including the store owner knows where it is either.

So, I don't wanna risk doxxing myself by posting pictures but goddamn am I tempted because this is not a believable event. This is a cartoon problem. For looneytoons.

But yeah, so, I work(ed?) at a kiosk selling boba tea, right? Freestanding kiosk in the mall with full water and electrical hookups and multiple fridges and sinks and a mini kitchen and the works. Fully functional tea shop. Very important to note that it was there last night, The work chat was discussing another issue last night at closing time. I'll get back to this.

It's been showing signs of being on the way out with how business is being handled lately and I've been considering other options, which is probably why I'm not as torn up about this as I should be, but maybe it just hasn't set in yet, but that's not the point. The point is there's been a lot of shit breaking and not being replaced and nobody mentioning anything about it until I walk into work in the morning and have to figure out why shit like the fucking cash register isn't there today. So I'm kinda used to having to ask questions about big things that nobody bothered to update me on. I was out for two weeks recovering from a surgery, so I came to work this morning assuming there'd be some kind of bullshit, yeah?

So, the question I had to ask the chat this morning was:

Not a text I ever thought I'd have to send in sincerity, but there it is. Because what I found instead was a fenced off patch of discolored tiles and a few holes in the floor where my entire place of employment used to be.

And the answer? Nobody knows! It was there last night when the mall closed, and every single trace of the structure and all its contents including drink making supplies and our safe and cashbox was gone when it opened again. And when I say nobody knows, I mean everyone from last night's closers to the actual (former?) owner of the store jad no fucking clue about this until getting that text from me this morning. For once I am actually the first to know. 🎉.

So. I guess I didn't so much lose my job as had it stolen. Not by AI, but good old fashioned hands-on human beings picking it up and carrying it away somehow. All mall security would tell me was that they were instructed not to tell me anything and have us contact our management. Who also don't know anything. And later on I came across some construction workers around the gravesite of the kiosk discussing filling in the holes, asked them about it, and was told that they "weren't at liberty to say".

So, not only is my job gone in the most literal physical sense of the word, but it was taken in some kind of super secret kiosk extraction in the dead of night without any warning or witnesses and nobody is allowed to speak of it. The store owner said she was gonna figure it out 10 hours ago and still no word back.

My mother in law thinks the FBI took it.

Not any of the other stores around the state. Just the one little kiosk.

Why? Because she loves a conspiracy and is just a little bit extra.

Also because she was around for the massive crackdown on Yakuza-owned businesses in Waikiki (in her homestate) that did actually involve the FBI seizing stores (no confirmation of making kiosks cleanly disappear in the middle of the night though).

Still no word from my job on what's actually going on, but the most likely theory so far is that maybe the kiosk was on lease and got repossessed? The mystery continues

According to the owner, based on what she's been able to find out, the kiosk was not removed legally and they're starting a potentially long process of legal action. I hope she gets to sue the shit out of whoever did it but for now at least I know for sure I'm unemployed.

Really hoping for more details in terms of who/why/how, so I'll keep updating if I learn anything.

For now the summary is: An unnamed entity that is most likely mall management (on account of mall security cooperating with them) stole an entire kiosk and all the contents including money and machinery with barely a trace in the middle of the night grinch-style, with zero warning or explanation, and ensured the silence of both security and the construction crew, in an action that was definitely preplanned and illegal, and as far as I know nobody knows its whereabouts.

Enjoy the unintentionally funniest text I've ever sent in my life

Aaand a close-up:

HEY HI HELLO THIS ONE'S MY FAVORITE

All of us were terrified to go to Ki'ikarnath, but we also felt we had to, for the Light's Reach—and we were also resentful that the Light's Reach carried a bunch of Tu'ul missionaries who had gone down on an Anomalous Interdict world because of their own stupidity, and would probably thank their stupid Light if we managed to save them, not a Galactic Aid crew facing down fears that made our eyes bleed. Or a number of other reactions. I know that by the time we landed, I was using isopropyl wipes repeatedly so that the smell wouldn't trigger the rest of the landing party. Talak was in the corner shedding fit to become bald. If you've ever run one of those missions, you know how it is.

Mei wasn't, of course. I'm used to her not reacting. Talak was muttering about species who don't care when other people die, and I told them what they could do with their bigotry, but then I had to worry about crew members who weren't saying it.

We moved to where the wreckage of the Light's Reach was, scanned it with drones. No-one there. Not even in the terror compartment, which is definitely where most of the missionaries would have stayed.

"No sign of damage on the doors," Mei told me quietly, reviewing the drone shots. "It looks like the terror compartment was opened from the inside."

Having frightening anomalies pointed out in very calm tones doesn't always make them better. "Why would they do that?"

"Either there was something to fear inside, something they needed outside, or something made them feel overconfident. How do Tu'ul react to confinement, generally?"

"They're claustrophilic. They like closed spaces. It reminds them of nesting burrows."

"Hmm. Weird."

I knew I wasn't going to get more than hmm weird out of Mei at this point, because she was still processing information, twisting it round and round in that unique human brain. If we were an adventure story, hmm weird would have been her catch-phrase. On the other hand, if we were an adventure story, we would all be guaranteed to make it out alive, just to keep everything friendly for families and people about to lay eggs.

We were just setting the drones for a much wider sweep when someone came running out of the woods, and unfortunately ran right onto Talak—that's Tirifon Talak, you see. A pack hunter. They may shed from tension, but when under attack, they Protect The Pack—whatever they have to do, they protect the pack.

Of course, I'm a freeze reflex sapient, and even though I've been trained to get past it, the remains of what Talak had done froze me for a moment. Our medic was screaming at them. "We came here to save them and you killed them," you know, the sort of thing that comes out when things are getting that bad. It was hard, it was agonizing, to get my jaw unfrozen and tell Medic (Vossi don't give out personal names) to back off.

"Yeah, no, this is weird," Mei said, pressing her hand to her ear, where her personal scan-drone was giving her data. "This is very weird. Talak might have done exactly the right thing. I don't know."

Talak, who was hunching their shoulders from Medic's assault—now Medic's murderous glare—startled, and twisted around to give them a look. "What's weird?"

"First, there's a wound down his back, and I don't think Talak made it. They just ripped into them from the front, low abdomen, where most creatures keep their stomachs. It's just bad luck that Tu'ul have their lungs there, or Medic might have been able to keep him stable long enough to go in the cryo-lab." All of us knew the cryo-lab was a long shot, but you have to try, obviously. "Secondly—Tu'ul run about five points above my body temperature, which is higher even than Talak's, and this one is as close to the ambient temperature as Commander Sikasa." She nodded at me. "Third—Talak, your nose is better than mine, do you smell something weird?"

Talak looked confused. "Why would you acknowledge my input when…"

"When you were rude before? Because I'm sensible. And this is life or death. Do you smell anything?"

Talak was slow to answer, but then they said, reluctantly, "Nendlu. I don't know the Interlang word for it. It's in most violet blood. But—"

But the Tu'ul body was obviously, luridly, graphically green-blooded. Right. And Talak had cloudy gray-translucent blood, not that they'd gotten hurt in the fight. (Tirifon are fast. And temperamental.)

"I say we put the drones to use scanning this area," Mei said, "before we expand and try to find the survivors. At the very least, this one might have been extremely sick before they attacked."

I flared my facial fins in assent. "A good idea. Medic—"

Something bit me in the back. Something that was concealed almost completely by my carry-bag, and also by the fact that nobody was standing behind me.

And then I said, quite involuntarily, "Medic, take charge of the corpse. We need to give this person a decent funeral by their custom. Talak, send the drones out to patrol. High pattern and fast."

Mei looked at me.

Pray that you never get looked at quite that way by a human. They don't mean it—I don't think they mean it—but it gets you right down to the bone. Most species don't stare like that at anything they don't mean to eat, and that's not even counting the uncanny feeling you get from those white corners of their eyes.

Not that I could worry about that now, because there was something on my back. Something on my back, and I was no longer in charge of what I said, or what I did. Some kind of parasite. Some kind of controller.

I tried to scream. Couldn't.

Tried to freeze, because I was far past the point of panic. Couldn't. You don't know how wrong it feels, to move normally when your mind is screaming in fear.

Most of it is a blur. A copper green blur, just like my blood. I know I walked back to the shuttle. I know that I ordered several people out to do in-person patrols of the near area.

I know Mei said, "Countermand that," and I looked at her, and—

In a bizarre way, it was almost a relief to see her holding her weapon, barrel pointed rock-steady at me. At the same time, I didn't want to die. I didn't want to I didn't want to I didn't want to—

Various of the crew were yelling. Mei moved around the other side of me. "Take the pack off. And turn around."

"I will not!" My voice, my vocal cords, but not me. "I am your commanding officer, I order you—"

"Let me rephrase. Take the pack off before I break all four of the arms and remove it myself."

The thing controlling me opened its mouth and hissed, glaring through the green haze, but it was bluff and everyone knew it. It let the pack fall to the floor.

More shouting and screaming. I heard someone say multilegs, I heard someone else say worm.

"You are going to release my commander's body," Mei said, "or else I am going to rip you out, tentacle by tentacle, and then rip you apart, segment by segment. You have access to some of Sikasa's mind. Did I ever tell her what humans do to bugs?" The last word was unfamiliar. A human language.

I saw, out of the corner of one eye, Medic making his way through the crew, snapping at people who got in his way. I also saw Mei moving around to look me straight in the face. She showed her teeth.

Humans don't do that around other people. Not usually. Apparently it's sometimes a friend signal in some of their cultures. It wasn't this time, and I could tell. "We squash them," she hissed. "We poison them. We engineer them to rip their own kind apart. I knew how to pull off a tick before I learned written language, and if you think I'm going to balk at a bigger tick—"

She stopped herself. Went calm, somehow. It didn't matter. I knew what I had seen. What I don't think very few sapients report back about. A human about to lose their temper.

It wasn't like an adventure story, where someone untrained would have to get the thing off me and there might be a declaration of romantic love. Medic got me in the neck with a syringe and cut each of the tendrils out, and Medic wasn't about to declare romantic love to anyone, since his species doesn't have that. I woke up with Talak hanging over me, endured Medic's check, and then sat up. "Where's Mei?"

"In the convenience," Talak said, and then wrinkled its snout in alarm. "You don't think—"

They helped me up and we staggered to the convenience. My stomach swooped and dropped as I thought of violating taboo, but on the other hand—I used my override code and opened the door.

That day I learned: humans can purge the entire contents of their stomach. It is graphic, ugly, and very painful looking.

Mei grabbed a wipe and got the last of the sickening fluid off her lips as we came in. Talak made a horrified noise at the smell, which even I could detect. Acid. "What's wrong? Is this a disease?" I blurted.

"Nope." Mei leaned back against the garbage disposal and stretched her lips slightly, a gesture usually meant to be reassuring. "Delayed emotional reaction. Don't worry about it."

I blinked. Then blinked again. "I've never heard of—delayed emotion, how—"

"Not everyone's as brave as you, 'Kasa." I was going to protest that I wasn't, that my species was a bunch of insectivores for heaven's sake, but she went on. "Some of us can't afford to feel all the emotions in the moment, or we'd fall apart. So we lock in and squash it down and that has consequences." She stood up, not as smoothly as usual. I noticed that her skin, which is always a pale tan, was paler than usual. "Don't spread it around too much? It's a bit embarrassing and I think it might be useful to the crew, thinking I always have it together."

The rest of that mission is on file. How we got ourselves out alive, how we rescued two of the Tu'ul, how we nearly got killed by several more Tu'ul, which was also how we found out that the parasites pilot dead bodies as well as live ones. As far as we can tell, they simply ride a live body until it dies, and then keep doing it until it falls apart. Ki'ikarnath is now under a Known Biological Menace Interdict.

I kept Mei's secret. But I think this information might help you understand what's going on this time. Humans don't lack emotion. They defer it. They can take a boiling rage or a burning fear and crush it into a tiny, compressed space at the back of their mind until the emergency is over. But it exists. It has to be faced sooner or later.

And, Captain—if it isn't faced, your human friend could break. You can't let that happen.