There
was a tense silence in Researcher Skai’s office as he pondered on
the situation.
“This
is a real conundrum, my scholar…” he mused as he absently rubbed
his talons on his wooden desk. “On one wing, Adwin is
absolutely entitled to getting more freedom. And if the human
mind is anything like ours, staying inside too long is definitely
psychologically unhealthy.”
“Yeah,
that’s what I was thinking.” Tski responded. “Even with his
small size, the tents are rather confining.”
“Yes…”
he allowed. “But there’s also the security aspect.” the
researcher sighed as he got up and walked to the window. “We’re
almost certain there are Pitang spies out there, among the populace.”
“Project
Frost-Fae is on a secluded, secure compound though.” the scholar
reminded her researcher.
“And
spies have telescopes.” the researcher reminded his scholar. It was
a bit paranoid of him to imagine a scenario of spies hiding in trees
just outside the compound, especially with how remote the forest they
were currently sequestered in was. But he had an above-top-secret
project to administer, so a bit of paranoia was not out of place.
“Perhaps
you should flap it to higher winds?” suggested Tski.
Not
a bad idea. Getting a general or someone in Lord Capield’s office
to make a decision instead would at least shield him in case
something goes wrong. However… “They would take the better part
of a season to get back to us.” he sighed. Kingdom bureaucracy
always took an almost obscene amount of time to process. Which was
probably why he, a highly respected and loyal servant of the kingdom,
was given such a level of autonomy on this project. In the end, he
was expected to make these kinds of decisions himself.
So
he pondered on it a few clegs more. “Has Adwin slept
recently?” he asked.
Tski,
mildly confused about the nature of the question, answered “No…”
then checked her timepiece. “I believe he will enter his rest
period in just under two bels.”
“And
his rest period lasts about thee bells, right?”
“Yes,
that’s correct.”
“Okay.
I’ll have the soldiers comb the surroundings while he sleeps. If
they give the all clear, we can let Adwin out for one bel
after he wakes up.”
“Yes
sir!” Tski chirped. “I’ll let him know!”
?
? ?
No
one could have picked a better time to explore the outside. The winds
were particularly low, just a comfortably light breeze blowing about
the region. It was also rather sunny, despite the rains just a few
bels ago. Almost everyone was gathered by the compound entrance,
Tski, Skai, Nalor, T’veo, Pito, and several others chirped
excitedly as they watched Adwin carefully walk out. His bare
feet tested each stone and red blade of grass he stepped over. He
looked heavenwards, putting his paw perpendicular to his forehead to
shield his eyes from the sun’s intense light. With a contented
smile, he inhaled deeply and stretched his arms upward and
outward. And then, he ran.
And
ran.
And
ran.
He
ran laps around the compound for almost five whole driks. Until he
finally slowed, then stopped. He let himself drop into the grass,
soaked with a mysterious moisture, panting heavily, but happily.
Happier than anyone had ever seen him since he arrived.
Tski
felt a sudden pang of guilt for keeping Adwin cloistered in
that tent for so long. Clearly, humans were built to run.
Aside from the psychological toll of staying indoors for too long,
she had somehow failed to consider the physiological effects. Any
lifeform as physically powerful as him would likely require regular
exercise. It was honestly embarrassingly obvious in hindsight, but
the scholar, no, the whole team, was just too focused on the project.
They should have treated Adwin as a person, instead of a
specimen.
Still,
it was remarkable to see how far and how fast he ran. Clearly, humans
were built for this, just as te-visk were built to glide, and fish
were built swim. He recovered fairly quickly, standing up and
swatting the back of his trousers to dust off a thin layer of dirt
that had accumulated there from his short rest on the ground.
“Thanks
you.” he said to Tski.
“You’re
quite welcome.” she replied sincerely.
Adwin
gazed off into to a nearby glade of trees, their natural crimson
beauty beckoning to him. He turned his face back toward Tski, the
unspoken question of further exploration practically screaming from
his eyes.
A
steady, disapproving glare and slight head tilt from the scholar
responded clearly in the negative, letting him know not to push it.
The
human acquiesced a with a shrug and mischievous smirk; it was
worth trying regardless.
Cheeky
attempts to get more out of this outing foiled, Adwin was
content to turn around and return to his tent for now. A short while
later he cleansed himself in the sanitation station, which was quite
welcome as he had developed a rather… distinctive odour, after his
run. After that the team continued their research for the next few
bels as normal, until Adwin
When
Adwin woke again, he was quite prepared for another run, or at
least there would have been, were it not for the heavy rains.
Everyone was quite disappointed, but no one can control the weather.
On
Adwin’s next cycle, the weather was much more agreeable. So
he ran again. This time the team was well prepared to measure the
speed and distance he ran. Honestly, these exercise periods provided
the research team with much more biometric data than any of the
experiments conducted in the tent. They discovered that the odorous
fluid that accumulated on his skin after physical exertion was called
“sweat”, and it facilitated cooling via evaporation. It
was one of many ingenious adaptations that allowed humans to
regulate their own body temperature.
And
so the time passed, deep rest cycle after deep rest cycle. But
on one occasion, Adwin
had
asked
to go out a second
time, a bit
later than
usual.
“Oh, do you want to exercise again?” asked
Tski.
The human
shook his head “Want to see
things.”
he clarified. “See… stɑ?z
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“Schtar-zuh…?”
the scholar echoed. Definitely a human word. Perhaps a word
for tree? He did seem interested in them several cycles ago. Well, no
matter. Tski asked him to wait for her to confirm with Skai. A few
short driks later, she returned with a positive reply, and Adwin
was allowed to go out again.
Strangely
enough, Adwin didn’t look over to the trees when he walked
out. Instead, he looked up, towards the sky. He shielded his eyes
from the sun’s rays as usual, but there was a grimace on his face
this time. He looked at his phone, then at Tski, confusion and
disappointment clear on his features. He looked up again for a
moment, then re-entered the tent with a defeated air.
The
next cycle, he asked to go out a second time again. This time, it was
a lot closer to the time he usually rested. Again, when he exited, he
seemed disappointed with the heavens.
Three
more cycles this continued, with Adwin wanting to leave the
tents to peek outside at random times, once even interrupting his
sleep cycle with his phone’s alarm function. Each time he
grew more distressed. Eventually he stopped trying to communicate his
frustrations with Team Frost-Fae, instead he just rambled his rage
his native tongue. Naturally, Professor Pito was called in.
Researcher
Skai, Professor Pito, Scholar Skai, and a couple security officers
had gathered in Adwin’shuman sat on the
floor, his legs twisted under him in a way no te’visk could
imitate. He was fidgeting, his unspoken agitation manifesting
physically.
“Adwin, w?ts r???”
the
linguist asked in human
The
human
didn’t respond immediately. All
this time one of his paws drummed his digits upon his leg in a
rhythmic sequence, while his other paw cupped his disquieted face.
“A?
d??nt n?? ha? l?? j?
de?z ɑ?.”
he
finally muttered.
Pito
seemed to have trouble understanding the sentence. “De?z?”
she named the untranslatable word.
“De?z!”
he repeated irately. “D?
ta?m ?t te?ks f?
s?n tu--”
he stopped himself abruptly, then closed his eyes for a moment as he
deliberately exhaled. “D?
ta?m ?t te?ks f?
w??ld t?
sp?n.”
he
said, much more calmly, while making an arcing motion with his arm.
The
linguist sat in silence for a few clegs, digesting the human’s
strange words. Then she turned to Researcher Skai. “He seems to
think the world should…” she tried to find the right word in
phuratan. “… rotate?”
The
researcher and his scholar looked at each other. “That’s
impossible.” Skai replied flatly. “We would have noticed some
kind of physical evidence if it did.”
“Like
the sun moving perhaps?” added Tski.
The
researcher looked at his Tski with stunned pride. “Yes! Very good
my scholar!”
While
Tski’s fore-feathers flared from her
researcher’s
adulation, Pito tried to forward the scientists’ conclusion to the
human. “If
w??ld sp?n, e?n s?n mu?v.
“Yes!”
barked Adwin.
“J?s,
e?
s?n ??d
?mu?v??!
Professor
Pito blinked. Then turned to the scientists. “He says that the sun
is supposed to move.”
The
scientists were silenced.
“How
often does he see the sun move?” asked Tski, curiosity finally
winning the wrestle against common-sense knowledge.
“S?n
mu?v… w?n?”
translated the linguist.
“??vri
de?!”
the human was using that unknown word again. He pulled out his phone,
and tapped and swiped until he found the
screen he wanted. It
displayed an array of short lines arranged in a circle, each directed
towards the centre. From that same centre there were
three
lines of varying lengths that radiated towards the circumference. The
longest one spun slowly within
the shape. “Twelve
a??z ?v
de?, Twelve
a??z ?v
na?t!
The
only noun that Professor Pito recognised was ‘twelve’.
Upon further inspection, she noticed that the short lines
circumnavigating the shape also numbered twelve. Her eyes followed
the long line lazily turning around the centre. A mote of
understanding formed in her mind. “Iz
e?s time?”
she tested her theory with a question.
“Yes!”
the human bobbed his head enthusiastically, his first positive
interaction in several bels. He shuffled closer to the academics and
showed them some numerical glyphs on the screen.
Tski
noticed two familiar blinking dots. “Those are… Seconds,
right?” she asked.
Adwin
acknowledged her observation with a hearty nod. “Correct! Yes!”
he had resumed speaking in phuratan.
Project
Frost-Fae was already well acquainted the concept of seconds,
one of which was approximately 2 clegs. However, Adwin now had
to introduce the units of minutesseconds, so
just under half a drik), hoursminutes, so just
under half a bel), and dayshours, so just
a bit more than ten and a half bels). A quick look at the data they
had acquired so far, and some simple numerical conversions, verified
that Adwin’s activity schedule did indeed correlate to a
twenty-four hour cycle. His long rest periods appeared to last
between six and eight hours
“S??,”
Adwin
continued in English, “??vri
twelve
a??z, e?
s?n mu?vz fr?m
i?st t?
w?st.”
He added even more untranslatable words while again making a wide,
arcing motion with his arm. “??n,
?r
twelve
a??z ?v
na?t.
Pito
grappled with the novel words and concepts for a few clegs. Gestures
and context were invaluable clues for processing what the human was
trying to communicate. “So, I think he’s saying that the sun
moves across the sky for twelve hours, then there’s another twelve
hour period called… Nai’T
The
scientists looked at each other again, silently mulling over the
impossible situation described to them. Eventually Researcher Skai
asked: “What happens to the sun after the first twelve hour
period?”
“W?t
?h?p?n s?n ?ɑ?ft? twelve?”
asked
Pito.
“It
s?ts.
There
was nothing to translate in that short fragment. “Pli?z
?ri??fre?z.”
Pito requested,
mildly frustrated.
“??
s?n—”
the human
held one paw horizontally, then moved his other paw in a downward
motion behind he first paw. “—dr?ps
b??l?? e?
h??ra?z?n.
Pito
had stopped trying to comprehend the absurdities Adwin was so
confidently spewing. She simply translated for the others: “He says
that it dips behind the horizon.”
The
scientists grunted and gestured in wordless incredulity. Even the
guards grimaced in confusion. “So, what?” scoffed Tski. “The
world goes completely dark for five bels?”
“N??
la?t ?ɑ?ft? tw?lv?”
asked the linguist?
“?M??stli.
??z
st?l e?
mu?n
stɑ?z.”
Two
more frustrating new
words.
“D??fa?n
mu?n.”
“A?…
Its…
?
mu?n. ?
?s?t?la?t. ?t ???b?ts ei
??θ. ?t r??fl?kts ?s?nla?t ?nd--
“St?p.”
The linguist held up a claw when she lost count of how many new words
the human
brought up. It was too much, she’d have to get back to that later.
“D??fa?n
stɑ?z.”
“??!
??a??nt b??lz ?v
?pl?zm? e?t…”
Adwin
stopped abruptly as every feather on Pito’s body frizzed as he
spoke. “De?
l?k la?k ?m?ni sm??l, sp?ks ?v la?t.”
he
finished meekly.
The
linguist could work with that. “Schtahz are small dots of
light.” she translated.
A
bit over a cleg passed before Tski chirped and bolted upward. She ran
towards her satchel and rummaged through it. After producing a
particular binder she ran back to the other academics and flipped
through the pages. Then she held out a particular photograph. It
presented an image of an uncommonly dark and clear sky, taken as far
dark-ward as a te-visk would dare go. Just above the horizon, where
the sky was darkest, hung a few dark-lights. She pointed at one.
“Schtahz?
“Yes!
Stɑ?z!”
he happily confirmed.
