The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: October 1, 2136

Our evacuation party was fortunate to skirt the orbital battle, and depart the system with a fair distance between us and the Arxur. The Terran transport unloaded its critically wounded passengers at a Venlil border outpost, while the rest of the posse trekked on to Earth. I wasn’t sure how the predators planned to deal with the terrified aliens upon arrival.

Marcel had been stabilized by onboard medics, and didn’t want to send Nulia to a refugee site run by predators without him. In fact, I got the feeling that he bore no intention of leaving her in a camp at all. Every Gojid on the vessel gawked at him yesterday, when he launched into a silly song about a twinkling star to put her to sleep.

Marcel was the reason I resisted the temptation to disembark, in the relative safety of a Venlil station. After every horror that befell him in space, I was uncertain if he’d ever return to the stars. Our separation could be permanent. The last thing I wanted was for our friendship to conclude with me showing fear and disgust toward his species.

If someone told me when I signed up for the humans’ first contact program that I would willingly go to their home world, I would’ve keeled over laughing. But I felt guilty over how my instincts ran amok on the Gojid cradle, and how quick I was to fault the predators for things they had no role in. Was my trust in humanity really that conditional? Were my prejudices still alive?

The mere sight of Marcel in the doorway had me in shambles, at our first meeting. Now, I don’t think about it when he snarls or picks me up. I don’t react to any humans’ eyes either, not even strangers or crowds. Maybe I’ve made more progress than I give myself credit for.

All sorts of bizarre ideas waltzed through my imagination, when I tried to envision Earth. I was the first Venlil to visit humanity’s home; not even the bravest scientists or diplomats would venture to the “blue marble.” It was a massive step, which might be a far cry from my preconceptions of society.

Landing on Terran soil would place me at the whims of their government, and expose me to the general populace. It would offer better insight into what the average predator was like, but was that a positive? I was woefully unprepared for what I had seen, mixing in with the UN military units.

As the spacecraft touched down, I tried to remind myself that it was too late to back out. This was not the time for second thoughts; my fright would only contribute to the other passengers’ panic.

“Gojid refugees, line up single file and prepare to exit the ship. Anyone who fails to follow the directions of UN soldiers will be hit with a tranquilizer dart, for your own safety,” a grating voice growled over the PA system. “Volunteers are handing out blankets, water, and dried fruit. If you require medication or special accommodations, approach the nearest human in a white coat or red cross insignia. You are safe here. Please do not panic.”

I snorted. Easier said than done.

The humans’ statements didn’t have the calming effect they desired; there wasn’t a single refugee that didn’t look petrified. One elderly Gojid collapsed with a thud, clutching her chest. The terror generated by this amount of predators could certainly cause a heart attack. Terran medics gestured for everyone to move back, and hurried to cart the cardiac victim out.

For the Gojids on board, it must appear they were being towed to a predators’ lair as cattle. Ferocious-looking soldiers with massive guns were corralling them into the open air. Who would believe a beast’s claim, that they would return anyone that wished to leave to a Gojid or Federation territory, as soon as they arranged terms with their government?

“Hi, Slanek,” Tyler said hesitantly.

The blond human took a timid approach, as if worried about frightening me. As traumatic as his table manners were, the big guy’s intentions were benevolent. He couldn’t help that his taste buds evolved with such a vile proclivity. Like Marcel explained, it was biology that was beyond their control.

I was aware that predators consumed meat by definition, and that didn’t negate everything I knew about their rich emotions. Humans weren’t like the Arxur, hunting living creatures; they cultivated cell samples in a lab. What was so amoral about that, other than the fact that it was appallingly gross?

It’s on the same level as consuming fecal matter. Don’t exactly want to share a table, or drink out of the same saucer. But it doesn’t have to shape my entire opinion of him. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Thanks for saving my life, Tyler. Sorry for freaking out back there.” I pinned my ears against my head, and saw his eyes soften at my scared expression. “It was a good idea on paper, for me to help humanity communicate with civilians. But I had no idea what I was signing up for. It was sensory overload, all the death, predation, and aggression.”

“It’s cool. I forget how much you guys hate predators sometimes. I know, Marcel doesn’t…but how could he?” the flesh-eater muttered.

Following Tyler’s sharp gaze, my own eyes landed on the redhead. I couldn’t help but notice the looks Marcel shot the Gojid adults throughout the ride. Clearly, his own species picked up on it too. This mission wasn’t the thrilling revenge jaunt he dreamed of.

My friend’s right limb was stuffed in a sling, while his dominant arm held the spiky child. He was clutching Nulia to his chest, like he expected someone to take her away. His hazel eyes were glazed over, as he watched the adult refugees stumble outside. A tear rolled down his cheek, which the young Gojid poked with a claw.

“Don’t cry,” she whimpered. “Why are you sad?”

The human pawed at his eyes. “I’m not. Just tired.”

The child tilted her head. “But you JUST slept for hours, Mawsle!”

“Marrrr-cel,” he enunciated, rolling the r sound with a reverberating growl. “You can say it, dear.”

“Mawah…sell.” Nulia hooked her claws into the corners of his lips, and tugged them upward. I gaped at her bravado, playing with a predator’s eating orifice. “There’s the happy snarl! Stay like that.”

Marcel flashed his teeth with genuine amusement. He glanced at me, noticing that Tyler and I were both watching with concern. The vegetarian struggled to his feet, limping toward us at the rear of the line. We shuffled to the exit as a pack, and my nerves surged through my veins. Warm sunlight struck my face, as I took my first look at humanity’s home.

The refugee camp was based in a decommissioned airport, judging by its appearance. Various structures had been converted to lodging, and tents dotted the runways. Humans were passing out supplies in what I thought was a former hangar bay. Doctors checked on any Gojids showing signs of life-threatening distress.

Camera crews were parked on the other side of a chain-link fence. A few predators shouted the word Venlil, trying to get my attention. For better or for worse, my image was as the first representative of my species here. I forced myself to straighten, and offered the most human-like wave I could muster.

UN guards manned the perimeter, allowing only cleared personnel through the gates either way. Alarm rocketed through my veins, as I spotted a ferocious, four-legged predator alongside them. The brown-and-black beast made the humans look cute and cuddly. I was sure its serrated fangs could puncture their flesh like pudding, but the primates seemed oblivious.

It sniffed the air with twitching nostrils, and eyed the armed Terrans with hungry pupils. I knew they had forward-facing vision, but how could they be that blind to their surroundings? How could the dangerous beast have drawn that close to them unnoticed?

My survival instincts leapt into overdrive. “RUN! PREDATOR! SAVE YOURSELVES! RUN, QUICK!”

Wait, Marcel can’t run. He’s going to get picked off first; him and Nulia are an easy target. The humans need to gun down the predator before it gets to us!

I bolted back toward the transport, overcome with a blinding terror. Tyler raced after me, closing the distance with long strides. He scooped me up despite my shrill, incoherent protests, and walked back to Marcel and the child.

“There’s a lot of predators here, Slanek,” Marcel sighed. “What, you’ve never seen a human before?”

I thrashed in Tyler’s grasp, trying to get him to put me down. My ability to formulate words other than “predator” or “run” was greatly diminished. A pitiful squeak escaped from my mouth, and I jabbed a claw at the monstrous quadruped. It was panting and slobbering over the humans’ boots! Were they the most clueless species in the galaxy?

Nulia screeched as she spotted the beast, and understanding flashed in Marcel’s eyes. He massaged the child’s neck, seeing her spines pop up. Why didn’t the human seem the least bit afraid? Why didn’t he call to the guards to shoot the predator?

“That is called a dog,” Marcel said slowly. “We domesticated them thousands of years ago…which means we trained them to be friendly to humans.”

Tyler grinned. “I have one at home! They helped us with hunting back in the old days, but now we keep them as p—”

“Companions,” my human interjected. “Dogs are loyal and obedient to us. They’re not sapient, but we have a close bond. Those UN guys have the ‘predator’ situation under control.”

I watched as a Terran soldier patted the dog on its head, and its tongue lolled out of its mouth. The human fished into his pocket, pulling out a cookie. He placed it into his hand, stretching his palm as flat as it could go, then offered it to the fanged predator. What was this madman doing? Trying to lose a limb?

The beast sniffed at the offering, and wagged its tail. Disbelief filled my chest as it snapped up the morsel, seizing the food without nicking the man’s hand. It barked at the Terrans, who were showering it with toddler-esque praise. Did that non-sapient predator understand their words?!

I can’t believe even humans tried to befriend that…thing. Conditioning dogs “to be friendly to humans” means they weren’t always friendly, I mused. And Tyler keeps one in his residence, like that is normal. How can he sleep with it around?

Tyler sensed that I calmed down enough, and placed me back on the ground. Was that how human hunting worked; co-opting other predators to do their dirty work? Marcel promised an answer once we were out of danger, but had yet to fulfill his vow. My outburst already drew a lot of unwanted attention though, so I decided not to say anything now.

One human took brisk strides toward us, flanked by a group of soldiers. His thinning salt-and-pepper mane, and crisp coat with a UN pin, looked familiar. Dear stars, it was the Secretary-General himself; I recognized him from our landing at the outpost. Was his entourage coming to arrest me for inciting panic?

“Slanek, isn’t it? Welcome to Earth!” Elias Meier leaned in, so close that I could feel his breath inside my ear. The air movement tickled the sensitive hairs, and I resisted the urge to paw at it. “Act natural and pose for the cameras for a moment. It’ll be bad PR for everyone if they think you’re afraid of us.”

The human official draped his arm across my neck, and I forced myself not to shy away. Why did the predators always have to grab for the vital areas? All he’d have to do would be to lock his elbow, to constrict my throat.

“I apologize for the canine presence.” The Secretary-General spoke the words in a booming tone, and I sensed that he was trying to tell the media that I hadn’t freaked out from the humans. “The dogs are necessary for security purposes.”

“Security from what?” I whispered.

Meier smiled, but did not answer. He slipped his arm from my shoulders, and gestured for us to follow him. I tailed behind the UN leader on shaky legs, terrified to traverse the checkpoint. Marcel and Tyler lurked at the rear, probably to seal off my escape route if I tried to run.

The dog was tethered by a thin rope, on closer inspection, but it seemed to be pulling the humans more than anything. Those awful eyes were watching me; its yellowed fangs were the size of my ear. I couldn’t stop hyperventilating. A predator like that could smell my fear, couldn’t it? What could the Terrans do if it lunged at me?

A tinted vehicle was waiting with a door ajar, and Meier flicked a hand toward the car. I didn’t need a second invitation to spring into the steel death trap. Marcel and Tyler squished in beside me, while the Secretary-General found a seat opposite us. The Gojid child was inconsolable after the dog sighting, sobbing into my human’s grimy uniform.

Meier raised his eyebrows. “Where are your parents, kid? They must be worried sick about you.”

“No they’re not!” Nulia wailed. “I called for my mommy and she never came back. She didn’t care if Mawsle or the bad monsters ate me.”

Marcel gave her head a gentle pat. “Your mother made a mistake, darling, because she was really scared. She loved you very much.”

Tyler nodded. “That’s right. You’re a good kid.”

Meier’s eyes lingered on Nulia for a moment. His thinly-veiled displeasure suggested he’d prefer if Gojid children weren’t roaming his planet. Evidently, he decided it wasn’t good PR to force Marcel to leave her behind either.

“Anyhow. Sorry about that mess, Slanek. I had no idea the Venlil were sending visitors, though don’t misunderstand me. We’re thrilled to have you here,” the Secretary-General said. “I’ll work out luxurious arrangements for all of you. If there’s anything you want, just ask.”

I cuddled up to my human. “T-thank you, sir.”

“Anything for our galactic neighbors. I’m pleased that you both returned alive, especially with how symbolic your connection has become here on Earth. Speaking of which…I have some positive news.”

Marcel leaned forward. “Positive news?”

“Sovlin has been arrested by UN forces. He’s being held in a clandestine facility for alien POWs, and is awaiting trial.”

My eyes widened, while my friend’s gaze narrowed. How had the Terrans tracked down the sadistic Gojid? Regardless of their methodology, I was relieved the captain wouldn’t get away with his wretched deeds. If the predators executed Sovlin, it would satisfy Marcel’s wish for his death. The anger boiling inside him was taking its toll on his kind soul.

“Take me there,” my human growled. “I want to see him.”

Secretary-General Meier exhaled, shaking his head in the negative. “That’s not a good idea.”

“So what? Pull some strings. I’m not going to do anything drastic,” Marcel said.

“And why would I risk the political fallout, if you did attack an alien prisoner in our custody? There is zero benefit to any party, and we aren’t prepared to host visitors there regardless. You’ll be able to see Sovlin in court.”

“C’mon! All I want is a short conversation, Meier.” The red-haired human’s expression was pleading, and his eyes searched the UN leader’s resolute face. “I’ll go along with whatever media strategy you want in return. You know I’m important to our propaganda efforts, at home and abroad.”

The UN leader stared out the window in thought. Was Marcel’s claim that he was that vital to the Terran narrative accurate? The Secretary-General crossed his arms with a resigned sigh, like he hated his next actions. A holopad found its way into his hands, and he began typing out a message.

“I’m sure I will regret this. I’ll let you peek at his cell from outside. You can enter only if Sovlin wants to see you,” Meier rumbled. “Understand?”

Marcel nodded. “Yes.”

My ears pinned back against my head. Those predatory eyes brewed with such a deep hatred, that it made me squirm. There was no telling whether the human could…or would restrain his aggression, once his tormentor was within grasping distance.

Whatever happened, my primary hope was that this confrontation would bring him peace, at last.