The Nature of Predators

Chapter 62



Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: October 22, 2136

The fact that the Arxur came to Earth’s rescue caused less of an uproar than I expected. It became a fact that was conveniently ignored by my government at large; instead, we celebrated the brave Venlil who hurled themselves in the Krakotl’s path. Many talking heads were happy to sell the narrative that the grays were taken for fools, assuming the newest predators shared their wickedness. The general public were unaware of the looming deadline to trade for our cattle victims.

That ticking hourglass was on my mind, as I accompanied Noah to the United Nations’ remembrance speech. The event was open to human refugees; I hoped that I could find the strength to treat the upset primates with kindness. The shock of the heartbreaking images on Earth was beginning to wane, but my soul still ached for our friends. It was terrible to see an innocent species suffering without cause.

“This has all been so sudden, and I know you’ve had pushback from your opponents. Have we outstayed our welcome here, Tarva?” Noah asked.

I pressed my cheek against his forearm. “Never. There’s a few people that want you shipped off our world, soon as possible, but they’re a minority. I’ll always fight for you.”

“Fight, huh? All that’s left is fighting. My pops used to say space was our ticket to a better future. I’m glad he didn’t see me fuck it all up. How disappointed he must be, if he’s watching from the afterlife.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sure he’d be so proud of you, and the man you are. There was nothing else you could’ve said to the Federation. What happened to Earth has nothing to do with your speech. Nothing, you hear me?”

“I appreciate you saying that. I do. And if you don’t mind me saying so, you look beautiful today.”

I had no idea how to respond to such a forward remark, coming from a human, but it did warm my heart. The dynamic between Noah, an alien predator, and myself was not something to address at this particular moment. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I tried to track down Elias Meier. Earth’s chief diplomat proceeded with grace in the past, but a nudge toward sensibility might be necessary. It was my hope that he lacked conviction in any violent rhetoric he touted.

The last time I saw the Secretary-General was when word of Earth’s devastation reached Venlil Prime. The fact that their militaries tallied such a miserable failure, and left their home at the Arxur’s mercy, morphed the dignitary into someone else. The distraught Meier had promised to ‘rend every enemy from limb to limb’, before rushing off for an audience with that ghastly Chief Hunter. I hadn’t been sure he’d survive an encounter with a predator that openly called me ‘dinner’ in our brief encounter.

But the gray-haired human here now, mingling with alien dignitaries, was the person I knew. Meier had spent his lifetime building relationships with unique cultures. The only aspect he was unaccustomed to was the constant terror prey felt. But he was mindful enough, careful not to show his teeth to non-Venlil. His hands were kept in his pockets, to avoid gesticulating.

“—glad you asked about the Arxur,” Meier was saying to Cupo. “When I spoke with them, face-to-face, their hotel room was pitch black. I couldn’t make out much of anything, other than a massive shadow looming over me. There’s a group of them, lying in wait, sizing me up like a cut of meat.”

“And you still went in?! When you wanted to run away?” the Mazic president asked.

“What choice did I have? Our instincts are nothing compared to yours, but I was thoroughly creeped out. I do hope that you can forgive us for accepting their tête-à-tête…with ten thousand warships surrounding Earth, a dialogue felt much more palatable than subjugation.”

The other Federation representatives were crowding the Secretary-General, eavesdropping. It was a relief, and a bit of a surprise, to see him conversing with those who didn’t aid Earth. That smooth-tongued dialogue seeking the Mazic’s forgiveness, not the other way around, was stunning. I had expected him to launch into accusations over the indifference of their allies.

The way Meier was acting a week ago, I thought Earth was going to isolate from everyone but us and the Zurulians. I don’t know what made him come to his senses, but this is a positive sign.

Cupo stepped forward on all four paws, shadowing the human leader with his bulky stature. I snorted with amusement, as I noticed Elias shuffle back. He tried to play it off as fidgeting, but the predator seemed nervous about the Mazic’s size. I don’t think the sand-colored mammal realized the Terrans were equally intimidated by him. The Earthborn diplomats were well aware that a single kick of panic could cause serious skeletal damage.

“I appreciate your explanation, but it still leaves me worried that you’re turning on us,” Cupo said.

Meier coughed pointedly. “There’s a billion dead humans, and nothing will ever be the same again. Humanity stood alone, apart from the kindness of the Venlil, the Zurulians, and yes, the Arxur. Perhaps there would have been other options, if we received more help from our neighbors.”

“I have never been dishonest with you: I don’t trust you. I think humans should be given a chance, because you are our only hope. But placing my people in harm’s way for predators, when that friendship is still a hypothetical, is unthinkable. Let alone raising arms against known sapients, who share centuries of partnered history with us.”

The Mazic tensed as he breathed out the last word, expecting the predator to fly into a rage. The other alien diplomats listened with interest, perhaps because they held similar reasons. The Secretary-General’s pupils darted around, and his lips curved down with disdain. Was it my imagination, or did his hair look whiter than last I saw him?

“That’s valid. It would have been easy for you to choose them over us, when it came down to the wire. I suppose doing nothing is a concession of itself,” Meier growled.

Cupo blinked in surprise. “What? I expected you to disown us.”

“That’s not why I’m here. Humanity, under UN leadership, will found our own Federation. I want as many members in our alliance as possible. I’ve started a project, with promising results, to weed out alien fear responses. The Mazics are one of the races I think have the most potential; you could lead this initiative.”

“This would require leaving the current Federation? I would want to retain membership in both…if I’d even roll in the dirt with you at all.”

Tossa, the Nevok diplomat, flicked her cream-colored ears. “I wouldn’t do anything that causes further risk to our trading networks.”

“We can discuss this on a case-by-case basis,” Meier said. “What I need right now is for each of you to step up, and bring the thousands of Gojid refugees we saved to shelters. Their colonies are also without a government and supplies; who knows how long the Arxur recognize our ‘claim’ to them. We no longer have the power to do anything about that.”

Cupo flapped his big ears. “I can handle that, predator. The Gojids deserve help.”

“Good. Beyond that, we politely request that you send aid shipments to Earth. Anything you can spare out of generosity to get us back on our feet. I hate having to beg so plainly, but my cities were turned into irradiated soup.”

The Secretary-General’s eyes darted over to the Sivkit ambassador, who had leapt into a wastebin at the first sight of humans. Perhaps it was time to confront her on her skittishness, though that would require a more private setting. While Meier was on the topic of aid shipments, this was the perfect time to slip to his side unnoticed.

The Nevok ambassador pounced on Elias’ perceived weakness, and was rattling off a laundry list of terms. Tossa had attempted to barter for ownership of Luna and the asteroid belt, in the wake of the attack; this was an obvious nonstarter for the United Nations. This time, she was offering to manufacture ships and airdrop food in exchange for trade exclusivity. That was her true goal: to stop the Fissan Compact from landing advantageous deals.

The Fissans often undercut the Nevok’s prices, and their trade war has spiraled to new heights. The fact that both of them reached out to actual predators, solely to screw the other over…

Halmina, the Fissan representative, pointed her horn in a threatening manner. “I landed here two days ago, after our first representative died, and you’re trying to fuck me over? Human Meier, I’ll give you a month’s worth of food shipments free, with no strings attached. Just don’t agree to that.”

“Predators, the Fissans’ll steal anything proprietary right under your noses,” Tossa hissed. “Do you want a species known for corporate espionage on your turf? Accessing military blueprints at the first opportunity?”

“We didn’t steal your technology. We built it better and cheaper, and you can’t accept that. You used your monopoly to rip people off, so you can’t stand competition.”

“We turn a profit, which we deserve for the hard work of our brilliant engineers. You upstarts might as well be uplifts, with shoddy—"

“SHUT UP!” Noah roared. “Is now the time for your stupid feuds? What about Earth? If you want shit from humanity down the road, try helping us for the sake of helping us.”

The tension that fell over the conference hall was so thick, that you could cut it with a knife. Sivkit ambassador Axsely was banging her head against the wastebin, wailing at the predatory outburst. The representatives were lucky the media cameras weren’t rolling, and that the human refugee audience hadn’t been allowed in the auditorium yet.

Meier scratched his head with discomfort. “Well, I agree with him. A little charity and unity would be nice. I find the behavior of capitalizing on our misfortune rather, shall I say, predatory?”

The Nevok recoiled in shock, floored by a literal flesh-eater directing that insult at her. Halmina at least had the decency to look shameful, pawing at the mane on her long neck. Something flashed in Noah’s eyes as he inspected her silver horn; he muttered something about Fissans ‘only needing hooves.’ I was beginning to wonder if my friend was losing it.

Meier glanced at a wristband, then gestured for everyone to find their position. He curled his lip at Axsely’s trash-can hideout, and pushed the squealing grazer into a backroom. The auditorium doors were unlocked for public entry, and human spectators shoved their way inside. It blew my mind to see this many predators in one spot, on my own planet.

I leaned over to the Secretary-General’s ear. “I want to talk to you, friend. You deserve an overview of how we’re treating your refugees.”

“Not right now, Governor, but I have urgent information on the Arxur. You won’t believe what Isif actually said,” he replied.

The gray-haired primate’s eyes flitted to the entryway, and widened in alarm. I wondered what spooked him about the incoming Terran refugees. There was nothing to make any of these people look more predatory than the others. If someone tried to charge the Secretary-General, I’m sure his bodyguards would intercept them. It seemed paranoid to travel with armed soldiers nearby at all times, but humans were poor at assessing danger.

“Tarva, where the hell is the event security?” Meier hissed, through gritted teeth. “There are a lot of important figures in one place.”

I snorted. “You actually think people would march through that door, and attack a public gathering?”

“I…yes, I do. Damnit, you told us this was a secure venue! Get every diplomat to leave, only a few at a time. We don’t want to incite panic.”

“You think danger is lurking around every corner. Humans are safe here, Elias. I’ve guaranteed that nobody will try to exterminate your packs.”

“You misunderstand; I’m worried for you. Any of us are capable of violence when pushed. You’re dealing with humans who have lost everything, and are looking for anyone to blame. Especially aliens, and especially the UN, understand?”

My focus turned to the incoming humans. Many were holding printed images of their cities or loved ones, and their predator eyes were stained with tears. Several Terrans were comforting each other, with light embraces or hand squeezes. These people looked devastated and heartbroken, nothing like angry beasts planning to maul the fluffy aliens. Regardless, it wasn’t like Venlil executed the attack.

However, the level of jumpiness Meier was displaying was going to interfere with his speaking ability. If he required muscle to assuage his paranoia, it was better than seeming unstable on a live broadcast. Who would be cruel enough to target an event with such a gut-wrenching focus? I hadn’t thought Elias a man with delusions of grandeur, but maybe the recent power bestowed in him had gone to his head.

The purpose of this was to console the hurting humans, and honor Earth’s memory. Even I know these predators don’t just attack out of hunger.

“We’ll postpone the ceremony, if you insist,” I whispered. “But you can tell it to our Federation guests.”

Elias sped off. The human exchanged words with the Fissans and the Paltans; they were the only two to send a replacement for the deceased ambassadors. Perhaps the Takkans, Dossur, and Thafki were weighing their options…or they doubted the predators’ message. Regardless, the Secretary-General made it a priority to evacuate the newcomers first. I suppose he didn’t want to risk them losing another diplomat to a violent end.

Whatever Meier told the duo, it scared them sufficiently. Fearful expressions stretched across the aliens’ faces, and they bolted from the auditorium without hesitation. Was that predacious delivery necessary? I glared at the human, willing him to be more tactful.

Cupo stomped up to the UN leader. “What are you up to? Is there a reason two ambassadors spoke with you, and immediately saw themselves out?”

“Keep your voice down!” Meier hissed.

“You damn predators always keep me in the dark! We’re in danger, aren’t we? I am sick of having threats concealed right in front of my trunk!”

Nervous chatter swelled from the primarily-human audience, as the Mazic president made a scene. The fire alarm was activated by a bystander, and visceral screams echoed through the sprinkler-doused room. Several Terrans made a beeline for the exit, pushing and shoving each other to get out. It seemed like the predators were verging on a stampede, which I didn’t know was within their capability.

“THE BACKPACK! It’s blinking!” A human’s thunderous voice permeated the chaos. “Run!”

Ambassador Noah wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and hurried me toward our emergency exit. I had no idea what had just happened, but it was tugging at my own panicky instincts. Through the chemical fog, I worried that someone was going to get trampled in this madness.

Elias was irresponsible. We should’ve just proceeded with the speech, instead of—

A deafening blast rocked my eardrums, and the subsequent shockwave sent me and Noah flying. The impact rattled me down to the bone marrow, making every nerve tingle. Vision slipped away, and my addled brain could only register an incessant ringing. Pain flared in my tail. Something sharp, like a needle or a glass shard, had impaled itself in the bushy appendage.

I coughed weakly, trying to move my arms. My pupils flicked out toward the sitting area, where a charcoal-colored mist shrouded the vicinity. Humans closest to the blast area were soaked in blood, and some seemed to be missing limbs. Their open mouths suggested they were screaming for help. I still couldn’t hear anything but high-pitched reverberations.

Meier crawled over, his attire caked in dust. The aged predator was sporting cuts across his wrinkled forehead, but his eyes were something alien. I’d never seen a human in combat mode in person; that dilated stare jolted some life into my veins. My brain recognized him as an animal, with the erratic eye movements and strained breathing.

The Secretary-General stopped adjacent to me, and jostled the shoulder of a facedown human. Horror flooded my chest, as I realized it was Noah beside me. Elias punched at the Ambassador’s chest several times, until glassy brown eyes blinked open. The elder Terran slapped the astronaut across the cheek, trying to snap him awake.

Meier’s gaze searched for other survivors, before resting on me. His lips moved, but I could only make out hints of the sound. I think he was telling me to run away. The only reason I suppressed my fear of the adrenaline-fueled predator, was concern for Noah. That worry was a sickening knot in my stomach; I needed to see him stand up.

“T…va,” the human ambassador croaked. “Get…here.”

I had no idea if he was saying get out of here, or get over here, but I took it as the latter. My paws rushed over to his side, and his glazed eyes drifted to my tail. Horror flashed in his pupils; concern crossed Meier’s taut grimace as well. The injury must be worse than I thought, but I decided not to look. I didn’t want to pass out now.

Noah struggled upright, fueled by worry for me. His hands steered me onward, and his wobbly steps became more certain. My mind hadn’t yet processed that humans had attacked their own remembrance ceremony. Right now, I prayed that there wouldn’t be a follow-up strike from whatever deranged predator plotted this.


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