The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: December 9, 2136

It was obvious that the human was resisting the urge to comfort Haysi; even while the Venlil rescue was immobilized, her eyes screamed misery. Sara acted as my support pillar, giving me the courage to peer out the window. The Venlil capital had been plunged into chaos, with a free-for-all dash to the bunkers. Erratic driving was rampant, and the wrecks would soon cause a traffic jam that made road travel impossible.

Our Venlil driver cursed, spotting a multi-car pileup down the street. After thinking for a moment, he steered us up onto the sidewalk. The chauffeur yanked the steering whistle, and crept along slowly to give pedestrians time to move out of the way. We rolled down the sidewalk at a crawl; other vehicles began to act upon the same idea. I wished my driver hadn’t decided I deserved special treatment for being the governor.

The crowd congregated in our path, and I noticed a few humans among those walking. The predators remained their normal selves amidst the chaos, evidenced by them shooting middle fingers at our car. One Terran even slammed the hood of my vehicle, though he stopped when he recognized me and Sara. Word traveled that Tarva and an Odyssey astronaut were the passengers, and the pedestrians parted.

We swerved back onto the road, past the massive wreck that would’ve delayed us. The tunnel up ahead was the site of the nearest bunker, so we had cleared the distance in a few minutes. I checked my holopad for updates, and hoped Kam would apprise me of the situation soon. Who was attacking us, and what were their goals?

“Oh, Tarva…this is apocalyptic!” Sara pointed to a handful of flaming vehicles, and stampede corpses near the bunker. “There’s so many dead, for no reason at all. Where are your emergency services?”

I heaved a sigh. “Honestly, this looks like less stampede casualties than usual. There will be no responses from EMS until the l-lockdown has passed. They’re trying to get to the bunkers, same as everyone else.”

“People are going to bleed out in the streets, not getting medical aid. Someone has to help!”

“It’s little solace, b-but I think humans have helped, just by being here. You stopped Venlil from panicking. You kept your wits and directed your friends.”

A horrified expression took over Sara’s face, and her eyes were wide with disbelief. The UN security barked at us to disembark, since it would be quicker to clear the final meters on foot. My scientist friend scooped up Haysi, kneading her scruff to comfort her. That gesture had the opposite effect, but the predator kept trying. We hopped out into the smoky air, and I studied the burning wrecks of the cars.

One foot in front of the other—that was the mantra I told myself. The flames crackling around me reminded me of the human stampede, and that awful day that Elias Meier was taken away from us. Venlil were trapped within the car wrecks, and many languished on the ground with gruesome injuries. I could see in the Terrans’ faces that they wished to help, but they prioritized getting me to safety.

Human instincts encourage them to help strangers in trouble. Can Haysi recognize their empathy’s manifestation for what it is?

A screeching wail pierced the air, just enough that my ears picked it up; a few devices mirrored its sound close behind. Flashing lights appeared in my periphery, as the hum played up and down. The noises sped to quick bursts, followed by the deeper sound of a blaring horn. Massive trucks were coming from the direction of the hospital, emblazoned with the logo of the UN.

“W-what is that?” Haysi cried. “H-hunting signal?”

Sara’s lips curved up. “Just look, sweetie. Please…look.”

My own eyes widened with disbelief, as an entire armada of predators rushed to the scene. Humans in bulky, reflective pelts and hard helmets exited a red truck. They readied a massive hose, and began spraying gallons of water onto a burning car. I watched as they battled the blaze, tackling it with determination. More of their guild arrived to extinguish other flames.

Boxy trucks were also in the area, with stretchers descending from their back hatches. Human paramedics never ran, but their steps were purposeful and well-intentioned. Somehow, they were collected amidst pure chaos; the external stressors rolled right off of them. The Terrans began tending to the critically wounded, providing life-saving measures.

Why were these humans not getting themselves to safety? How could they stay on duty with the threat of antimatter annihilation hanging over them? To think that they would risk their lives, for Venlil who had gotten wounded in our own panic…

Haysi gawked, as security encouraged us to keep moving. Perhaps it surprised her that humans were trained in medicine at all. These actions were selfless and altruistic, risking their own hides to save others. This was the epitome of why I fought for their species, and why I thought the Earthlings had good hearts. They were heroes in their best moments.

Sara sighed, as we joined a waiting queue by the bunker’s massive elevator. “Any update, Tarva?”

The doors chimed open within a few seconds, and I kept my eyes on my holopad. My tail flicked in the negative; the human nodded, understanding. Terran paramedics shouted for us to hold the lift, before wheeling a patient into the car. Without further ado, we hurtled down to the bunker’s underground hideout. I huddled next to Sara, trying not to think of how cramped it was.

The predator EMTs began setting up a makeshift hospital, and I reminded myself to commend their efforts if we survived. Haysi’s eyes darted around the bunker; I could tell that her sedative had begun to wear off. The rescue wriggled her legs, earning Sara’s attention. Had I been thinking clearer at the facility, it would’ve occurred to me to pack another dose.

The paramedics might have something to knock her out, if it came to that. Haysi wasn’t the only rescued Venlil spiraling; a few individuals from the program had fainted or gone catatonic. Others were engaged in full-blown panic attacks, or cowering near-catatonic at masked humans’ feet. Terran civilians comprised about 10% of the bunker’s population, so there was no avoiding the sight of them.

“I’m going to put you down, Haysi. Just stay put, okay?” Sara still had the Museum of History photos under her arm. She shifted them into her hands with deft motions, and flipped through them. “You let the Farsul show you footage of us. Don’t you think it’s fair to let us show footage of us?”

Haysi whined feebly. “W-who t-told you? F-fucking Glim?!”

“Answer my question. Are you that opposed to seeing things which contradict what you already know? You’ve decided we’re evil.”

“Haysi, you thought it yourself, all the way back then. There’s more to humans than wars and violence,” I said.

Sara latched onto my contribution. “You heard us talk about all those good things: love, community, nature. You just saw evidence, with your own eyes, of our desire to help. Let me show you a little more proof. Let me show you how we present our history.”

The Venlil rescue trained her eyes on the paramedics, who were giving blood transfusions to an individual with critical wounds. Her gaze wandered, as if she were counting the number of Gaians in the room. Haysi noticed that some Terrans were scared; many were crying or showing signs of distress. Human children clung to their parents, and even a few Venlil were comforting the predator young.

One Earthborn kid tugged at his mother’s pelt. “Not again! I wanna go home. P-please.”

“M-manipulation?” Haysi asked, pointing at the child. “It d-doesn’t want to r-resist its hunger again? C-can’t be scared.”

Sara fiddled with her curls. “I’m scared shitless too. This brings back a lot of memories, of being caged in a bunker for days on Earth. As billions…died, and we didn’t know if we’d be next. It was traumatic, and that kid doesn’t know if this is any different.”

The human scientist tugged out two photographs, and passed one to Haysi. The rescue cringed, touching the same paper as Sara. I leaned over the predator’s shoulder, inspecting the image. It was a timeline of early civilizations on Earth, including ancient settlements and hunting methods. Ancient philosophers were depicted, along with temples and pyramids.

“How do you think that humans would define the start of civilization?” Sara asked.

Haysi choked on phlegm. “F-first hunting tools.”

“No. Read the part at the top of that exhibit, Haysi.”

“A h-healed femur…is the earliest…”

“Sign of civilization. Why? Because it takes months to recover from that injury, and requires help from others to survive. That is how humans define civilization: helping others.”

“W-when did w-wounded people stop being l-left to die, human? A few d-decades ago?”

“The first archaeological evidence of a healed femur is from 15,000 years ago. Someone had to care for that person…and nurse them back to health. We never stopped caring, Haysi, not even in our darkest moments. Whenever you look for compassionate heroes among humans, you will find them. That is my promise to you.”

Huddled in the bunker with thousands of others, I absorbed that lesson alongside Haysi. It was a nice benchmark to ascribe to civilization—a scientific way to quantify when a species started caring. The Venlil historian squinted at the photograph, before handing it back to Sara. Her ragged frame was quivering, while her voice was still fraught with terror.

Haysi cleared her throat. “W-what was the other p-photo?”

“It’s the exhibit of our accomplishments as a spacefaring species. It applies to the Venlil and every alien race. It’s proof that we reached out in open friendship, long before we knew there was anyone out there. You think we’re terrifying predators, but really, we’re sad, lonely primates screaming into the void.”

“P-please explain.”

“We sent manned missions to our moon, in the name of progress. We sent rovers to explore the planets within our system, and took images of every orbital body. We love knowledge, Haysi; we’ll run to the end of the universe for a drop of it. But none of that searching turned up anything.”

“B-but you didn’t g-give up. You s-say you invented FTL…on your own?”

“We did. I’m proud to have been on our first planetary survey mission. But, before that, we would scan the skies for signals from aliens. We sent a probe out of our solar system, with information about our world and greetings–it was called Voyager.”

The Venlil rescue inspected the blurb about the Voyager probe, and I squinted with equal fascination. Seeing humanity’s innocent curiosity had wiped away my dread, despite the threat of an imminent attack. Images of their planet, music, sounds of nature, and mathematical schema were sent to the stars. Greetings were also recorded from 55 Earth tribes, wishing peace and good health.

The UN Secretary-General of those early days had inscribed words of peace and friendship, which I could envision Elias Meier himself stating. I could hear them spoken in Elias’ voice, acknowledging that Earth was but a small corner of the universe. Putting forth humanity’s desire to learn from alien cultures, and their willingness to share from their own library of knowledge as well.

“It wasn’t going to reach any planetary system for forty thousand years, Haysi. Long after any of the humans involved in it could benefit from manipulation,” Sara said. “The simplest explanation is that we wanted friends…and that we wished you well before we ever knew you.”

Haysi threw the picture down. “How c-can you prove that you d-didn’t invent this? Or c-compile it after making contact with the V-Venlil?”

“You can calculate where Voyager is today as well as we can. The weathering of time should be evident on it. Actually, the UN wanted to encourage Tarva to go pick it up. It was meant for aliens to hear, and there couldn’t be a better recipient than our first friends. It would be…sentimental for us.”

I chuckled. “I’ll do it. Well, assuming we don’t all die today.”

“Tarva! My God, you can’t go around saying that!”

“I am merely accepting the possibility. I’m hopeful it won’t come to that. But if the end is near, I’m thankful to spend this time learning about the species I love. It would be an honor to give your Voyager greeting a proper look-over.”

“It’s beautiful,” Haysi admitted. “T-there’s no reason to t-tell so much about yourselves, and open yourself up to s-scrutiny. To d-danger.”

A wistful sigh was all I could muster. “They reached out to the stars, and expected the galaxy to do the same. They couldn’t help themselves. It’s simply who humanity is as a species.”

My holopad buzzed, alerting me to an incoming message. I snapped my focus away from Sara, and ignored stares from across the bunker. The human and I were recognizable figures on Venlil Prime; it was our security who kept strangers from approaching. The people expected answers from me, and I hoped I had them soon.

Call me at your earliest convenience, General Kam had texted. General Jones of the United Nations has pressing information.

These details could be sensitive, but there was no privacy within the bunker’s main area. Thankfully, my earbuds were available to keep the words secret. I dispatched video communications to Kam at once, fumbling with the keystrokes. The Venlil military official appeared on screen, a worried glint in his eyes. He added Jones to our call, and the high-ranking human studied me with her usual bravado.

The predator flashed her teeth. “Governor Tarva. Thank you for allowing me to phone in. I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances.”

“W-what?” Heart-wrenching concern permeated my awareness, and my thoughts leapt to the gorgeous settlements of my homeworld. “Is V-Venlil Prime safe? Were our cities hit? How d-did the battle go, and who is attacking us, and why?!”

Kam raised a placating paw, a human-eseque gesture he’d absorbed. “Venlil Prime has not been hit by any missiles at this time. There were a few hundred ships, seemingly hailing from Aafa. We’ve taken care of most of the Kolshian bastards, and we should be able to clean up the rest without issue.”

“So we can s-stop them short of orbital?”

“Well short of orbital range, ma’am. Our advanced warning systems did their duty, and our defensive fleet outnumbered theirs by a substantial margin. Throw in humans being humans…the Kolshians got ‘pancaked.’ I’m hopeful we can give the all clear within the hour.”

“We just can’t rescind the emergency until the last enemy is dispatched. I understand, and it’s a weight off my chest. Thank you, Kam.”

“It’s not how well their attack went that concerns me,” General Jones interjected. “It’s why they went through with it in the first place. It wasn’t with the intent of succeeding.”

I tilted my head in confusion, unable to decipher the predator’s meaning. Perhaps Sara would grasp an attack meant to fail; I couldn’t see the objective, other than as spiteful revenge spurred by “fight instincts.” Then again, it was positive news that Venlil Prime was unlikely to suffer any damage today. The last thing I wanted was to tell my citizenry that the Federation harmed our home.

Also, how could it be herbivores, and not the Arxur, assaulting our space? It was difficult to process what Kam had stated, though I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it. I realized that the Venlil Republic was a treasonous enemy to the Kolshians; siding with humanity put us at odds with the Federation by default. It was simply unlike the tentacled manipulators to go on the offensive.

Prey only defend what is theirs; isn’t that their view on warfare? Why the sudden aggression?

I swished my prosthetic tail. “I’m not certain what point they’re trying to prove, General Jones. I am only happy that their ships lie in ruin, and that you have protected us again.”

“Allow me to share some intel that was passed along our novel FTL comms. Each of our allies is reporting a similar incursion in their home system: all failures, none with a convincing show of force. That leads me to believe that the Kolshians were testing our defenses. This was just recon.”

“W-what does that mean? P-please, tell me if I should worry.”

“It means shit is about to hit the fan. The Kolshians are assessing the weakest targets, and also gathering intel for the planning stage. The intelligence community on Earth analyzed the most-likely targets, and Venlil Prime isn’t high on the list. However, I don’t think preemptive buffs to your defenses could hurt.”

“Okay. W-we have the upgrades you gave us, and we’ll bring in more ships.”

“We’ll help you too, since you’re a priority to the UN. But humanity can’t protect everywhere at once. We need goals beyond defensive measures—a forward strategy if you will—and that means earning more allies. I sure hope the Duerten, or someone, comes around.”

“I’ll keep my ears peeled on that matter. T-thank you for the information, Generals. I’m going to c-calm down the people here, and try to fix the fallout with the cattle rescues. Many saw your faces for the first time.”

“That’s a good idea. We don’t need any domestic situations arising for you. The United Nations and its subsidiaries will be in touch. Please keep us apprised of any developments.”

General Kam dipped his head. “Take care, Governor. We’ll see you soon.”

The call fizzled out to a blank screen, and I pondered what I’d learned. My mouth moved to inform Sara, Haysi, and the bunker’s other occupants that we should vanquish this incursion. However, the words were passed along on autopilot. From the sound of what General Jones discussed, the Kolshians were bringing a massive force to our alliance’s weakest link.

The Federation was attempting to regain control forcibly, after humanity scored two crushing victories. I feared that another planet could become a casualty of this war, before the tide turned; there were no positives in dead civilians on any world. It was up to the predators to ascertain the Kolshians’ game plan, and to get ahead of their next move.