Memory transcription subject: Alvi, Assistant Farm Technician

Date [standardized human time]: Sept 4th, 2136. 3rd Claw.

"So, here it is!"

Maeve swung the steel door toward us, her new apartment back lit by natural light from her sun-side window and skylight. The box in my arms rattled as I stepped over the threshold, looking around at the tall space. On the far side from the door laid a bed, chest high off the ground with storage beneath it. In the far right corner, beside the bed was a simple door leading to the bathroom, equipped with a standing shower and sitting waste removal. Against the wall on my left was a pillowy couch, while across from it along the right wall was a counter equipped with a heating coil above it, and a cooler below. On the left and right just by the door, and around the window above the couch, were shelves built into the walls.

"All this space for just one human?"

"Kind of." she answered breathlessly. She had spent the better part of a claw moving her stuff in, and my small box was one of the last. "Humans tend to share space really well, but we still have a minimum amount of space for necessities. What is it like for Venlil in the city?"

I set the box down along with the others on the bed, stepping over a large bag labeled Liberica as I did so. "Fairly similar. We have couches and counters and bathrooms; my bed was way smaller though. One thing is… uh… you guys do know about Galetime right??”

Mave took a glass orb out of one of her boxes and placed it on a shelf; as she moved it, there seemed to be snow on the inside. “I don’t, no, but the translator parsed that as ‘a very windy time’?”

My ears flicked affirmation, “That’s about it! Just before and right after The Night, we have three or four paws of strong winds at ground level. To prepare for that, we build our houses in a kind of leaf shape; tapered into and out of the wind. I don’t mean to be rude, but a Cube may not be the best idea…”

Maeve seemed to slump at the thought while she looked around the room, “Well, not much we can do about it now. I’ll just have to trust that Integration thought about that and built around it.” She pulled a stack of flexible books out of one of her boxes and placed them on a different shelf.

“Humans read? And you haven’t moved on to digital?” I pulled one of the remaining books out of the box. The cover depicted what looked to be a human in a spot of bright white light, standing at the threshold of a massive stone archway, a great metallic city stretching in the distance.

“Yes, we do read. Quite a lot actually.” I embarrassingly bloomed as I caught the exasperation in her voice, “And most of our works have gone digital, with anything new for the past fifty years or so having started that way. But many people still enjoy the physical presence of a book, so the industry still thrives.” She looked at the book in my paw, “Ah, Snowcrash! You have good taste.”

“What is it about?” I opened it to see simple glyphs, arranged with intention in large blocks.

“So that story was written while we were still theorizing many things about computation and the digital space, but also before we confirmed many of them. We call it Science Fiction, because it is a false tale told with a grounding in established science; how much science depends on the story. Snowcrash wasn’t the first, but it is considered an early trendsetter in the Cyberpunk genre.”

“How so?” I set the book on a shelf, and picked up a small glass case with a fuzzy green stone inside.

“Most of the story and plot events take place in Virtual Reality, a place where the people of that world can experience a non-real reality using a mask that supplements their senses. Really though, it has been popular for this long because of the commentary it makes and the story it tells.”

I waited for her to continue as I helped her unpack. “It was a commentary on the over-corporatization of our world at the time, warning people of the extremes of what could happen. It merged Sci-fi with supernatural by making the Virus a cybernetic Tower of Babel, an old story from an old faith. It emphasized the necessity of our essential laborers, because the whole system was held together by the poor and forgotten.”

She stopped for a moment, and looked at me breathlessly, “Do the Venlil have anything like that? What does your entertainment look like?”

I was about to answer, but my train of thought got completely derailed as I took what looked to be a metal knot from another box. “What is all this stuff?? Are all humans junk collectors??” I returned her gaze with confusion while she laughed at my struggle.

“Many yes, but I will admit I am pretty bad about it. You remember when I told you humans chew on stuff too?”

“...yeah…?” I held the contraption by the tips of my claws, which only made her laugh harder.

“Well that happens because people want to feel sensations; want to feel ‘busy’. That toy does the same thing, but for our hands; it’s called a Blacksmith’s Puzzle. There are tons of types, but they’re all some variation of 3D puzzle, usually made of twisted metal or rope. The way we use our hands, the mental strain to figure it out, and the catharsis of finishing it, are all very enriching. Want me to show you?” Maeve held out her hand invitingly, but I pulled away.

“So you're supposed to pull it apart?” I asked, fiddling with the mess while it tinked and clinked in my paws. I sat on the couch for a more comfortable position.

“That’s right. You want to separate this piece from this piece,” she pointed out at the different colored metals, “but the trick is to not use force. If you have to bend it or shove it with noticeable effort, that isn’t correct.”

She continued opening boxes and storing belongings, but my focus was totally on this infuriating device in my paws. I could see the exit, a large gap where the twisted metal bar met itself, but the gap wasn’t large enough for either of the loops to fit through. Maybe if I… then I turn this… now… what about… I brought the loops together, twisted downward, and they separated from each other! I bleated with glee and looked up to see Maeve lounging on her bed reading one of her books in the, I only now noticed, darker room.

My tail still curled in satisfaction, but my ears gave away my confusion, “W…Why did you turn down the lights?”

Maeve looked up from her story and smiled at me warmly, “I didn’t! The lights are on a timer in line with human’s natural sleep rhythm. You’ve been working on that thing for almost half a claw!” She placed a wooden slat in the book before setting it aside; her eyes glinted in mischief, like she knew a joke I didn’t.

“A half-claw?! I didn’t even notice! What is this thing??” I held up the toy like it was going to bite me.

She giggled at my surprise, “Very fun and engaging. I’ll try to keep an eye on the clock next time; though, if I’m honest, I lost track too.” Maeve moved away from the now cleared bed to join me on the couch; the emptied boxes were folded and stacked by the front door.

“Do humans do a lot of things to keep their hands ‘busy’?” I asked as I continued to turn the steel and copper toy in my paws.

“Many things! We call it Fidgeting, and once you know what it looks like you’ll see humans do it constantly, and a few Venlil too. It can come out as any way that we can’t stay still. Picking up random things, pulling on our hair or clothes, pacing or swaying… sticking rocks in our mouths.” She leaned into me playfully with that and I bloomed at the reminder.

“Our overall inability to sit still is sometimes credited with some of our greatest discoveries, but that may just be wishful thinking.” She was silent for a moment before barking a laugh. “Still doesn’t stop me from believing it!”

Could humans be as… fidgety as me? Was I really so strange? Was I strange among the Venlil? Was I… not? I paused my work on the puzzle and stared at nothing in particular, “Maeve… am I… Strange? I know you haven’t met many of us but am… am I ‘Venlil’?”

Maeve brought me closer to her on the couch, and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Based on what I've seen, yes. You are just like any other Venlil. You are incredible, intelligent, and perceptive, but you are not strange. Certainly no more than me! Though, I did leave my planet to meet with aliens that find me existentially terrifying, so… Okay, bad example.”

We both laughed for a moment before I noticed what looked like a stereo now sat on the counter.

“Oh you guys have music too?!” I hopped off the couch to look at the device. The only thing unusual about it was the interface; buttons and plugs in unfamiliar places and orders, though still very similar to ours.

“Oh, you have no idea. Humans have been making music since before we were ‘human’. Heavy bass never goes out of fashion, but the current trends are electronic instrumentals. We’ve experimented with all kinds throughout history though!” She picked up her pad and looked for something to play. “You’ve never heard human music before, so we can start off with something light. What is Venlil music like?”

“We like heavy melodies, but we won’t say no to a solid drum line.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Well, that is good to know… how about… This One.”

The song started with a heavy beat and a fast pace, almost like someone running. Human voices describe an argument; or conflict? With time itself?? The translator was getting in the way of my enjoyment, trying to make me understand the words but unable to keep up with the layered metaphors. My split attention was making my head spin, “Turn it off Maeve, please,” and she did.

“Not your style?”

“No, no,” I whispered through pained beeps, “I actually quite enjoyed it, but my translator couldn’t keep up and I got a headache.” I started nursing the spaces under and behind my ears.

“Ok, then let’s try something Less Poetic.”

Singing from the speakers was the sound of electric rain, pounding down on heavy canopy. Human voices joined it, indiscernible but foreboding, warning of what approached. A sharp voice and heavy beat flashed lightning across my forest, while the rain continued. I could feel my ears twitch in time to the repeating storm.

“I like this a lot!” I all but yelled through the screaming bridge. Maeve stood from the couch and pulled me up along with her. She jumped in place and nodded her head, making her hair a chaotic wave of scintillating motion. I followed along and jumped with her, dancing properly would be nearly impossible in this space. Maeve and I screamed out a final Thunderstruck! before collapsing on the couch, spent and breathless.

“Hoo! That is way more tiring in higher gravity. Do the Venlil have anything like that?” Maeve asked between gasps.

“We have music like that, but nothing so intense. We also have drums, but they sound different; harder, more impact and tone. Traditionally we used reed and flute most often; we were able to whistle along with them and create layered harmonies. These days Krakotl Club music is all the buzz, but I could never get used to their polyrhythms.”

“Incredible! Our earliest instruments were the drum and flute as well, but we have a very long history of string instruments. Here, lemme find something more classical.”

I look up in interest. “Classical? My translator seems confused about how to translate that. One of the translations is something with great respect, but another is just being… old.”

“Basically, yeah. Actually the song that I showed you was ‘classic rock’; it was written a little less than 150 years ago.” Maeve was at her pad again, looking for the next song to play. “This One is a solo flute piece that was written some 500 years ago, when humanity saw a cultural renaissance in scribed music."

Immediately I was enveloped by a taciturn melody; the air sound was full and large, like whistles from a Venlil twice my size and ten times as practiced. I could only hear one tone; it lacked the harmonies even a pup could conjure. The tune quickly moved up and down in patterns that sounded predictable but still continually surprised me. The spaces between notes were even and purposeful, almost mechanical. It continued to climb up and glide down, changing emotion as it wandered.

I spoke with a quiet voice through the wandering tones, “Why does this sound so different from the others you showed me? This seems much more complex, despite being just one sound.”

Maeve reduced the volume, and we spoke normally. “Oh, that’s a long one. For most of our history, we used music to entertain ourselves, our families, and others; sometimes even wildlife! But competition has always been a significant influence in our behavior both as a species and as individuals.”

She tilted her head, remembering the hows and whys of human culture. “There have been moments, in times of peace and plenty, when more people than normal could focus on artistic or scientific pursuits. We call these Renaissances. During one of these renaissances, there was a drive among many people to become the very best musician, composer, or conductor, or whatever else. So people pushed the boundaries on what was technically possible in music, resulting in very technically difficult pieces like what you just listened to.”

“Later on, around the time of the first song you listened to, we were in a time of significant political tension from a dozen different directions. That song was written from a place of emotion and trying to cope with the stresses of the time. The second song you listened to was written at a time that emphasized indulgence and fun, so it focused on loud sound and heavy rhythms; a song you can just let the emotions building in you loose!”

I thought for a long moment, something was missing… something… “Maeve? I know you aren’t like this but: wouldn’t a predator ‘letting their emotions loose’ cause a fight? I refuse to believe that every song is founded on bloodshed; what am I missing?”

Maeve smiled at the question, “You know, Valek asked me something very similar.”

My heart dropped when she said that name, and I hoped she didn’t notice. “You’re right that humans feel a lot, and you’re right that sometimes those emotions can lead to violence. We know this too, and have developed ways to live with it. One of which is Expression. We do something to push that emotion out of our bodies and into the world, and music is one of those ways, as well as art like painting and sculpture, and other ways, too. In fact…!”

Maeve stood up and pulled a drawer from under her bed, her body obscuring my view. “One of those ways to express ourselves is the fidgeting and biting I told you about, and like I said, we are very familiar with it. So! We got you these!”

Maeve pulled from the drawer a colorful bag, topped with crumpled paper and a woven ribbon. She stood to my side, gesturing ‘go on!’. I unwound the ribbon and removed the paper, and under it was a plastic bag labeled ‘Pistachios’. Maeve spoke above me, “That’s from me; well, Sam, actually. What you said about crackleberries sounded a lot like these!”

I took out the bag, easily a kilogram on its own, and ripped the top open. Immediately my mouth was full of decadent salt and almost fruity nut flavor, “You can split open the shells; some humans do so with their mouths so I thought you would like that. We don’t eat the shells, but it is largely because we can’t digest them; I have no idea if the Venlil can or should eat the shell or not.”

I picked a nut from the bag; It was small, no larger than my claw, and the tan shell was already partly split exposing the green treasure inside. I popped the whole thing in my mouth and savored the warm salty taste as it played across my tongue. I brought the nut to the back of my teeth and crushed the shell to shards with a satisfying Crunch, then ground the whole thing to a thin paste between my molars. Again I felt another wave of fresh salt across me, but this time mixed with an almost sweet taste. I dove my paw back into the bag to stuff my face with more, before Maeve stopped me.

“Hold on! I’m really glad you enjoy them, but there is more in the bag. This next one is from Valek.” My ears drooped before I could catch them, but I forced an excited wag to show my appreciation.

The next item was a large bag of crystal cuties! “Valek said that he really enjoyed these while he was away from home.”

I stopped still as I realized what this meant, “Did… did you tell him? About my-?”

Maeve laid a hand on my shoulder comfortingly, “I did, and he was sad to hear it. According to him, his parents had a hard time keeping him from stuffing his mouth with leaves or dirt, so they used these to keep him busy.”

My heart raced. Valek knew about me! He would drop me! Drop me and leave me just like the rest!

Just like Maeve?

My fur flared and my tail froze. A new voice… not mine from then, and not my mother’s… but Mine. From here and Now. My own.

Why would he give you this if he were afraid? What if he was honest, when he called you a friend?

Maeve had sat next to me again, her arm wrapped around my shoulder as she looked into my unfocused eye, “See? You’re not alone, not even among the Venlil. I am sorry for what you went through, but it won’t happen again. Not with us, not with anyone.”

We sat there for a time as my panic faded. When Maeve noticed I was breathing normally again, she added, “I know your urge to chew things is an impulse. It is important that you are able to process that impulse and let it pass. So what I want you to do is, whenever you have the urge to chew something, you use one of these, instead of whatever is in reach.” My tail flicked happily between us as I nodded in the human fashion. “And, if your urge is especially bad, you can use this…”

Maeve reached into the bag and around the candies to pull out a large rectangular plate, wider than it was long, and only a few centimeters thick. It seemed to be made of a soft flexible material, but its rigidity belied a solid core. “This is a human-rated oral anxiety therapy device; which is a very fancy way to say ‘chew toy’. This is specifically designed to take a beating from a human bite, and allow you to really dig into it, if things get really bad. I know it might be awkward, but would you like to try it?”

I held the device in my lap, nervous to start, and terrified to do this in front of Maeve. “So I… I just bite it?” -- “That’s right.”

I lifted the device to my mouth, and opened my jaw, letting it fall on my back molars. It was just wide enough to allow my paws to hold it on either side of my mouth, but not long enough to exit the front of my mouth; probably for the best, as my incisors would get in the way.

I bit down.

The pressure at the back of my jaw released a satisfying tension I didn’t know I had been holding, the relaxing feeling causing my eyelids to flutter half-closed. I applied more pressure, feeling the rubbery texture on my gums behind my molars. A small snap, and slight give from the core sent a delightful shiver down my spine as I sunk into the sensation.

eep!

My eyes snapped open in sudden awareness of my surroundings. My tail was curled around my own leg and my ears were relaxed flat behind me. Maeve was still beside me and a lovely smile formed on her face as she laughed kindly. She spoke in a soft voice, barely intruding on the gentle melody that still played, while her hand massaged the base of my ear, “I’m glad you like it.”

I opened my jaw, pulled it from my mouth, and stared at the device, the imprint of my bite fading as the rubber regained its shape. I stared at it in confusion and worry. “Wh… Why are you doing this? Everyone else just. Ran. I can’t be worth this, Maeve.”

“Alvi. You are my friend, and you are in pain; the absolute least I can do is help you, and accept you. You are safe here, and safe with me; and Valek, too. We are both here for you.” She wound her fingers through the fur on my crown, looking at me with that genuine affection I have seen from her so many times, and only then realized it was more than polite kindness.

“Thank you, Maeve. I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. You can take that to your room, or you can leave it here. Either way, I want you to know that this space is yours too. You are invited to come here, anytime, to visit, or stay, or retreat, or for any other reason. I welcome you to my home.”

I leaned into her hand, before standing from my seat and moving to her lap, and gave her a hug that rivaled our first, back in the orchard.

“Thank you, for being my friend.”