Hypothetically, a universe where keratin (our hair and fingernails) is a rare and valuable resource. Accounting for the sugar walls from a previous story it would potentially be considered a strong, nonreactive material.
Seeing humans with it on must be like watching someone walk around with steel-tipped claws and spun-titanium jewellery. Yeah it’s a small fortune but a) the person it’s attached to must be scary as all get-out and b) it’s practically a weapon in its own right, you’re not going to mess with them even if they are carrying enough to finance a small spaceship crew.
Space was dangerous. Just going up there was an exercise requiring years of training, conditioning, and a certain amount of armour. Srisi knew this, because she was obsessed with space. And this… thing… that had landed in her Uncle’s fallow paddock had come from space.
Srisi had gone to check the fire, with the special anti-fire suit in her pack and a couple of barrels of fire retardant on the saddles of her mount, Bleerh. But none of that proved necessary, because something by the fire was already putting it out.
She watched from hiding, of course. This creature was immense. Taller than a building, and the craft, half-buried in the soil at the end of a very long furrow, appeared to be made out of metal.
Metal! One of the few substances that could cut pure sucrose, once it had set! The most precious of substances, in a structure big enough to be a city for her fellow Ariaseans. Srisi watched in amazement as it pulled up entire Stonehide trees and ripped them to pieces with its hands.
It took four strong males and special tools to down a Stonehide tree.
This was a monster.
But, instead of going on a rampage, the giant creature built a controlled fire and started talking to itself.
As the light faded, Srisi realised that it was inside metal armour. That did not make it any less terrifying.
She turned tail and ran for her Uncle.
*
Once inside the sterile environment, a converted hangar for immense blimp-ships, the Hoomin female was only too glad to shed her metal suit.
Srisi found herself the next best thing to an expert on the Hoomin despite avoiding contact with her. Srisi stayed on the other side of a re-enforced Plex barrier while she and the Hoomin took turns trying to write to each other. Backwards.
So far, they were up to numbers.
Dot was one. Line was two. Triangle, three… and so on. After four, the Hoomin made stars with five and six, but seven was a square and a triangle, one inside the other.
They were obviously limited by their artistic skills.
Words came through, of course. Some were easier than others. Hoomins could eat sucrose. She said it was sweet. Hoomins grew keratin. Naturally! So far, the Ariaseans had only manufactured keratin in labs, and there was a certain amount of stunned amazement to watch the Hoomin casually clip her fingers, toes and hair into the special basket before it went through a rigorous cleansing process.
A small fortune in keratin on a weekly basis.
Srisi’s nation of Yarine went from an also-ran to a major contender in the space of a season. All because the Hoomin clipped her nails.
Her name was Lyn. Srisi spent as much time learning to say it as Lyn did trying to pronounce hers. They became friends, of a sort. Even though they could never touch.
The bacteria that inhabited Lyn’s skin was deadly to Ariaseans. As were the enzymes in Lyn’s saliva. Srisi learned a new word. Deathworlder. Someone who had undergone evolution on a planet that was actively trying to kill them.
Srisi encouraged the efforts to replicate Lyn’s hair growing capabilities in the lab. Cheered when they had nailed down the keratin nails. But when she found out they were trying to weaponise Lyn’s bacteria and enzymes…
That’s when she hatched the escape plan.
Lyn could do weird things with her body. Including making it appear as if she could detach her thumb from her hand. It was that trick that had the guards in panic attacks, and allowed them to make it all the way to Lyn’s restored ship.
It was for the best that Srisi stayed behind.
Space was dangerous, and Lyn was proof.
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