The human had a warning sign on their quarters: "Do not enter without mask". They had sealed their air vent and brought in their own supply. When one of the crew came in, they understood. The human was hand-pollinating a hybrid plant they were trying to develop, and was taking all precautions. -- BKF
Humans know they're dangerous when they're bored. Those knowing they were destined for long-haul travel got involved in long-term hobbies. Alternately, Humans who have long-term hobbies are destined for long-haul travel. It's hard to tell. They find each other nevertheless.
Human Keefe's hobby was botany. There was a bonsai that he coddled like a fussy child, and an entire lab's worth of strangely interesting plants.
Including carnivorous ones because some Deathworlders really like to rub it in.
Of course Keefe took every precaution he could to be sure the crew were perfectly safe from his hobby. Terrariums, technologically-contained enclosures, and add-on air scrubbers for the arboretum that passed for Keefe's quarters. Because of pollen, allergens, and generally weird reactions caused by Deathworlder plants.
Needless to say, Keefe's quarters were posted with various warnings. Including the one about carnivorous plants. And the seemingly mandatory "Feed me, Seymour" sticker because Terran humour is strange and incomprehensible to others. A temporary magnetic warning stood by the door, entreating visitors to please knock and ring the bell before opening it. Since it was next to the biohazard sticker, Companion Throk took it very seriously. They noted the "Mask required prior to entry" and donned one of the complimentary ones set up in a nearby niche.
It was a full face model with eye protection.
There was a plastic bubble around Keefe's workbench, where Keefe labored inside whilst wearing a full clean suit. There was also a field cleansing cubicle at the zipper door to the bubble.
"Oh. This is treble serious," said Throk.
"Not how reduplication works, Throk," singsonged Keefe. "We say them both and emphasise the first. This is serious serious. See? No need for a third. But yes, it also is. Moment."
'Moment' never meant an actual passage of time. It was Human Keefe's shorthand for, Let me finish what I'm doing so that it's in a safe state before I deal with your thing. Which was a lot of meaning to pack into two syllables.
Throkk took up a seat on the heating pad Keefe put in his quarters for guests. They watched the small, slow movements of delicate work in progress.
The sigh of relief and satisfaction could have paid a soul out of purgatory, as Throkk understood things. They still had to wait patiently while Keefe left the bubble, cleaned the suit, took off the suit, and cleaned himself before entering the more normal atmosphere. "Working on a tricky hybridisation. If it works, I might have some flavours Deathworlders can share with Havenworlders."
"Does the project need nursing?" asked Throk. "We are almost at our destination for planetary survey."
"No, if it takes, it takes. But I do have to move them to their own terrarium before we go down."
"Excellent. What flavour were you working on?"
"What else? Chocolate!"
[Photo by Adrian Diaz-Sieckel on Unsplash]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends! Or visit my hub site to see what else I'm up to.
My Prompt Forum is currently down, but if you want to send me a prompt, post it on my Discord's emergency prompt supply.