Oh Darkness without, Apollonia thought. What fresh hell was this?

In the last several hours she had sorted twenty-three totes. She had filled up two with expired chemical packets, and the rest had proven to be fine.

No matter how fast she tried to work, each tote seemed to take around ten minutes to sort.

She'd knelt for awhile, but now her knees hurt. She'd squatted but then her feet began to hurt. She was now sitting on an empty tote that she'd turned upside-down, but the ridges were biting into her butt.

And now, for the first time, she didn't know what to do with a packet.

"What do you mean 'status indeterminate'?" she asked the device. It did not answer.

The last tote had started having some packets that were a little different than the others; they were not silver, but a pale gold sort of color. They'd all scanned fine, until this one.

She scanned it again, but the same answer came up.

"Fine!" she said, grabbing a new tote and throwing it in there.

"You can just have your own bin."

She grabbed another. It was also indeterminate.

After twenty more, all but two of which came up that way, she was starting to think something was wrong.

Then she got a new one; 'status unindicated'.

"What the hell does that mean?!" she raged. She pulled up her system. "What does this error mean? Hell, what does status indeterminate mean?"

It was quiet a moment, then began to give her the dictionary definition of the words.

"Stop!" she yelled, standing up, throwing the chemical packet down.

"Stupid fucking things," she raged. "I could be at a party right now! But Darkness, Gohhian shitholes have to be such greedy little fucks that they make you lot so they can suck one more credit from-"

A strange clicking noise caught her attention.

It wasn't a mechanical sound, and the hackles on her neck raised as she looked for the chemical packet she had thrown.

Oh shit, what if it was unstable and was about to explode?

A vision of all of the chemical packets exploding came to her mind. The Craton in flames, gutted and tens of thousands dead. Because she'd lost her temper.

Her frantic scanning found the packet, where it was sitting benignly, not swelling or glowing or anything it ought not do.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I guess I'm not an idiot today."

She heard the click again, and turned, still feeling that stinging surge of adrenaline in her system.

"Who's there?" she called, hoping there wouldn't be an answer.

The lights turned off automatically in areas, and so she couldn't see much beyond a few meters.

But in the darkness she thought she could see things moving.

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They didn't move like drones; these were not flying or crawling. They seemed to be rising and falling, slowly moving closer. Strange, pointed lumps.

"Oh shit," she said. "Uh . . . lights!"

Her tablet heard her command, and the lights came on, revealing the intruders.

Now that she could see them she realized that her impression in the darkness had not been wrong; they were strange, pointed lumps.

Almost like fuzzy caterpillars, they appeared to move on stubby legs, but with clear, flattened faces, like some ancient dog breed. They had a little bit of a snout, and surprisingly large eyes, though she felt more freaked out by them than anything.

"What the hell . . ." she said, taking a step back.

There were seven of them, all staring at her.

"This is the bekbe I was talking about!" one barked. Its language was harsh and scratchy to her ears, but her system translated it clearly.

"Bekbe?" she repeated, defensively. "I don't know what that is, but I'm not it." It definitely sounded like an insult.

"Bekbe!" one of the creatures barked out. Another joined it, until all of them were barking the word at her.

"Stop it!" she yelled back. "What the hell are you, anyway?" she asked. She'd never seen these strange things on the Craton before!

Their bodies looked to be actually rather small, but they had . . . well, it wasn't fur, but dense spikes that seemed to move somewhat, growing from their bodies. It looked like hair under a microscope to her, but then there were crystalline spikes embedded in the hairs. They almost looked like moving brambles, and she imagined that brushing up against one could easily lead to a lot of cuts and scratches.

"What are you?" the closest one, who had first called her 'bekbe' said, its voice a sneer. "You're the stranger here!"

"I'm doing work!" she said, gesturing.

"Throwing stuff!" another said. "Like a stupid bekbe! Pak!"

"Stop using weird-ass words that can't be translated," she said. "I've never seen you guys on the ship before."

Reaching down, she raised a bar on her tablet, increasing the detail of translation. Usually it led to strange results, but right now they were using far too many words she did not know.

"We keep to ourselves, person who gives sub-standard effort that results in problems! I am displeased!"

Well, she thought. If that was the translation of 'bekbe', then . . . well, she almost was one. She turned the translation detail back down to normal.

"What the hell are these guys?" she asked her tablet.

"Boku-boku," her system informed her. "Twenty-seven live aboard the Craton, all working within Resources division."

So not that many. Maybe she'd even seen them before and not noticed them. They would barely be able to see over a table, anyway.

Angel came up next to her, growling a little.

Then she barked, and the Boku-boku all moved back slightly. She barked again.

"Pak!" one yelled.

"Pak!" another one answered.

Angel barked, and the Boku-boku yelled back that they were, in fact, quite displeased.

"Pak!"

Bark.

"Stop it!" Apollonia shouted. They ignored her, and the apparent argument between Boku-boku and the Ship Terrier carried on, unabated.

Neither side would ever win, she realized, as Angel kept barking, her entire little body bouncing with each one. The dog might have more sense than these little assholes.

"What the hell is going on here, Phadom?" Ham Sulp yelled.

For a moment, Apollonia thought it was another Boku word, but then realized it was a name.

The whole group of Boku-boku stopped yelling out 'pak', turning to look at Sulp. Their large eyes were even wider now.

"She was causing a problem!" the one called Phadom said.

"I was not! I was doing my work," Apollonia said.

"Lie!" one said. "She was throwing things like a stupid bekbe! Pak!"

"Pak!" They all started yelling the word again, and then looked at her, making thin, hissy sounds that reminded her of blowing a raspberry.

Then she realized they were actually spitting sand on her boots.

"Oh, ew, gross, Mr. Sulp they're spitting on me!"

"Stop it!" Sulp roared.

The pak-ing and spitting stopped immediately.

"I want all of you to return to your duties," Sulp said very slowly and threateningly. "I don't want you bothering the volunteer again. Even if she's doing something you don't like."

The Boku-boku all started to turn and move away, and despite their strange shapes, she could see in their body language a kind of dejected quality.

"Except you," Sulp said to Phadom. "Make up with her."

"That's . . . not necessary," Apollonia said.

"Yeah, it is, and you shut up too, you're not blameless here," Sulp growled.

Phadom stared at Sulp, his face scrunching up for a few moments before slowly trundling over to Apollonia.

He reared back, and she saw that he really did have multiple little stumpy limbs, sprawling out from his main body.

On the end of each short limb was a hand, like a human hand. A baby human hand.

"Pak! I don't like you because you're a stupid bekbe," he said, offering one of his little hands.

Apollonia looked at Sulp, who impatiently waved her forward.

She took his hand. It felt as weird as it looked.

"And your hands are like a creepy little baby," she told him.

Phadom jerked his hand back and turned. "Pak!" he said one more time, then waddled away.

"Good," Sulp said, walking over to her. "If he wasn't going to let this go he wouldn't have taken your hand."

"Even though I insulted him at the end?"

"They insult each other, themselves, everyone," he said. "Not all of them, but this culture at least. Just how they are."

"So . . . were they not really upset?"

"Oh, no, they were upset," Sulp said. "You're a stranger in their workplace, and you were throwing things. Then you yelled back at them. That set them off. They're going to be pak for the rest of the damn day."

"I didn't mean to pak them off," Apollonia said.

"Yeah, well, you did. Nothing to do about it now." He squatted and picked up the packet. "But don't ever throw things in Resources. Our whole goddamn purpose is making sure stuff like this doesn't get wasted!"

"Yes sir," she said. "I apologize."

Sulp seemed a little surprised and pleased to get that response. "Good. Now these were the bad ones?" He nudged a tote.

"Yeah. And these . . . I don't know. They were coming up as 'status indeterminate'. Then that one came up as 'status unindicated'! I didn't know what to do with them."

Sulp frowned, and took out a sensor wand. He waved it over them. It just flashed green.

He looked at her.

"I swear, it was being weird when I scanned it!" Apollonia said.

"Let me see your wand," Sulp grunted.

Apollonia felt a little disgruntled as she handed it over. If he checked the log he'd see that she had been scanning them!

"The battery is low," he said. "That's why. Oh, this is the one with the bad battery. Doesn't hold a charge." He looked back up to her. "Not sure how it got back in circulation. Oh well."

He turned, starting to walk away.

"Hey," Apollonia said. "What do I do now?"

"You haven't gotten a lot done, but you've been here long enough," he said. "You can leave now."