The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Glim, Venlil Rescue

Date [standardized human time]: November 29, 2136

Public transit on Venlil Prime was always behind schedule, and this tram station was no exception. I was stuck waiting for the next ride out. It was wonderful to see so many people walking around, in a bustling environment. There was still life in their eyes, hope that the humans hadn’t quenched yet.

Part of me wished I didn’t know the truth of the “Gaians.” Would they ever have told us their identity at all? Happiness wasn’t the worst thing to dupe myself into believing. It killed me to know that another predator species existed, one that was more warlike than the Arxur…

We were all doomed to a life of servitude and torment; no amount of rumination would fix that. Many cattle grew resigned to that reality, after dealing with the Arxur on a daily basis. But the exterminator in me craved a way to turn the tables. Colonies we landed on had infestations that were out of control too; so much that we mixed orbital actions with paws-on-the-ground. Could I accept that our home was beyond cleansing?

My thoughts wandered to Haysi, and whether her well-being was intact after my escape. When I was crawling up into the airduct, her shrill scream had permeated the vicinity. It wasn’t clear what the Gaians had done, to elicit such a fear response. Perhaps they dropped their ‘mask-wearing herbivore’ routine.

Forget Haysi now, I decided. You need to monitor every predator in the area.

My cursory head-count was five humans, though I was rechecking the area every minute. It was a matter of time before a predator singled me out; I was sorry-looking and isolated from the herd. Few other Venlil paid any mind to the Gaians, and no signs of stampede behavior emerged. I hoped this train arrived soon.

There was a breath of sanity in my surroundings, as I noticed a mother with three kids carve a wide berth around a human. The predator was entranced with its holopad, and didn’t even look up at the delicacies. I could picture it flashing its teeth as the pups screamed, and using its meaty paws to crush their fragile bones.

“Excuse me, mind if I sit here?” a chirpy voice asked.

A royal-blue Krakotl was eyeing my bench seat, and I flicked my tail in a ‘Go ahead’ gesture. My eyes never left the nearest human, who was talking animatedly into a device. The avian ruffled her feathers, before following my gaze toward the predator. A strange emotion swirled in her pupils, almost like sorrow.

The bird sighed. “Still afraid of humans, are you? I’m nervous to approach them myself. I was born on Venlil Prime, but I feel like they’d blame me for…you know.”

I measured my response. “I’ve been gone for a long time, and, er, w-woke up in the hospital yesterday. I don’t know why the predators are here. Everyone gets mad at me for acting normal toward them.”

“Oh dear. That’s not good. So you got into an accident before Noah and Sara showed up?”

My eyes widened with alarm, as I recognized the names of my slavemasters. Their concealing masks were etched into my memory. Noah’s boasts about the human ability to ‘manufacture anything’ stuck with me too. Those were not the words of a species that had moral qualms over bargaining with the Arxur.

“C-come again. Those names. Who are Noah and Sara?” I squeaked.

The Krakotl tilted her head. “The two astronauts piloting humanity’s first FTL ship. Everyone was hiding in bunkers for hours when they showed up. But they came in peace, my friend. Noah and Sara bent over backwards to prove they were harmless.”

“They are not harmless! I know t-this Noah and Sara…and Tarva, personally.”

“What?! No, you don’t. This isn’t a funny joke, man, and I don’t appreciate—”

“S-sorry. I’m not messing with you, I swear…please, I need the truth. I just, um…have a head injury? Maybe I’m misremembering.”

The avian squinted, scrutinizing me for several seconds. I didn’t back away from her direct stare, and tucked my ears back in a pleading gesture. This Krakotl had to understand sincerity, when it was plastered all over my features. None of her explanation made sense, but I had to hear this fabrication for myself.

Unless the names were an uncanny coincidence, Noah and Sara were the first to scout our home as their hunting ground. Could any Venlil actually believe a predator came in peace? My firsthand experience was ripe with displays of aggression; I could still hear the Arxur calling us animals.

My neck brand tingled, as I remembered them pressing a rod to my throat. Their eyes sparkled at my screams, but it was too hot to quiet myself. It felt like they were injecting molten lava into my skin. The restraints stopped me from thrashing, as an Arxur licked the newly-charred skin for fun.

“Please stop lying,” I pleaded, in a broken voice. “I heard the television, t-talking about war with the Federation. I know humans conquered us.”

The Krakotl squawked with alarm. “The Venlil are the closest allies humanity has! Humans adore you; just look around. That war started because the Federation has been gene-modding dozens of species, without their consent. Anyone who doesn’t fit their mold of a model herbivore gets ‘cured.’”

“I beg your pardon? That’s a total falsification. Humans lie, if that’s your source; I would know.”

“The Kolshian chief admitted it from the Federation summit, buddy. Also, my species spearheaded an orbital raid on the human homeworld, unprovoked. Killed a billion civilians, and that’s why they have so many refugees still here. It makes me ashamed to be a Krakotl.”

Of course the Federation tried to exterminate those monsters. Good for them, I thought. But what’s with this genetic tampering?

The light-rail train coasted into the station, and an automated voice announced that passengers should begin boarding. The Krakotl hopped off of the bench, leaving me to march after her. There was no telling how much of this story, if any, was true. However, she believed it with all of her heart. That meant the predators might’ve sold these falsehoods to the Venlil too.

I jostled the avian’s wing. “Hey, wait up! How many Venlil…d-do you think they’ve eaten so far?”

“Zero,” she replied, settling into a window seat. “Humans don’t eat sapients, and they see you as part of their pack.”

“You’re really trying to say it’s zero? I know it's a non-zero number. Has the whole world gone mad?”

“Yes, I guess it has. That’s enough questions. I don’t want the humans to think I’m one of those Krakotl…they probably do already.”

My gaze turned to the train cabin, as two ‘Gaians’ boarded together. Silent curses echoed through my mind, at the thought of having to ride with them. There was safety in numbers, since we had enough Venlil to form a herd. Still, I was hoping none of the predators would tag along for our voyage. It made me queasy to picture them ravaging the tram.

One human gazed directly at our seat for a long moment. My heart leapt further into my throat, before I realized that its pupils were on my Krakotl seatmate instead. The shaven beast seemed to be testing the bird, as it arched the hair over its nasty eyes. My avian partner raised a wing slightly, and lowered her head to appease the Gaians.

The Krakotl Alliance attacking the predators’ birthplace must have a shred of truth to it. That destructive event explained the ubiquitous invasion of our home; Gaians had been forced to flee their lair. It also meant humans weren’t as strong as Noah claimed. There was hope for the Federation to put them down yet.

Attention please. This line is now departing for Tonalu City. Enjoy a safe ride, and please come back soon!

The train doors started to seal, and I relaxed a bit. That was before I caught the blur of motion in my periphery, as a panicked human chased the tram. At first, I assigned menial lateness to the beast’s actions. Its brown eyes simmered with determination, and it flailed its arms at the conductor.

“STOP THE TRAIN!” the Gaian roared. “WE NEED TO SEARCH YOU!”

The Krakotl beside me gasped. “Sweet Ina…ah, not supposed to say that anymore. That’s Ambassador Noah!”

Excited chatter circulated through the train, and several Venlil flung themselves against the windows to film the incident. You would think it was a superstar celebrity, not an alien hunter. Noah’s lean torso made its pose intimidating, and its thin scalp gave it a hardened look. Its forward-facing irises popped against their white backdrop.

I could picture it speaking in a falsetto voice, as it squeezed my paw. That was the vicious face it had been hiding. Governor Tarva plodded up calmly beside it, with a curly-haired human next to her. The female ‘Gaian’ had thick eyebrows, which accentuated her wildness. Her mane was a total catastrophe, puffing out like windblown grass.

We apologize for this delay. Please remain seated as we speak with the Terran ambassador.

“No!” I screamed. “K-keep going!”

My avian seatmate flexed her talons. “You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

“I wanna see my family! I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE!”

Governor Tarva heard my commotion, and pointed toward the source with her metal tail. Noah waved at the conductor, as the reopened doors granted it entry. It prowled down the aisle, searching with singular intent. I leaned back against the Krakotl in terror, shaking from head to toe. This was like being captured by the Arxur all over again.

My team had descended a canyon, cleaning up native predators there. The region could become an abscess for a fledgling colony otherwise. It was supposed to be a simple job, but none of us realized we weren’t alone. The Arxur snuck a ship in under nightfall, and landed practically atop my unit. We all knew it was better to die than to be captured.

I scrambled to the truck to get my firearm, along with every Venlil that didn’t freeze. The grays were faster, covering ground with animalistic fervor. A tranquilizer dart embedded in my neck, pricking into my flesh. Sheer terror washed over me, because I knew what the darkness entailed.

“Glim! Tarva heard your voice.” The male Gaian worked its way down the aisle, and turned its head from side-to-side. “We’re all worried about you. Let us help you.”

I glared at Noah’s lumbering form. “T-this time, I’ll get it right. D-death before c-capture.”

I climbed over a number of seats, whacking disgruntled passengers with my tail. Noah spotted my haphazard escape, and chased after me. The human asked for passengers to intervene. Nearby Venlil didn’t hesitate to attempt a takedown.

Two of my own people grabbed at me, as I made it to the emergency hatch. My hindlegs kicked one assailant in the teeth, and I shook off the other with a sudden tug. My claws slid under the lever, pulling the panel open. I dove out the window like I was trying to land on my stomach.

The bulky predator took one look at the gap, before settling for the rear exit. My belly flop knocked the wind out of me, but adrenaline pushed me upright. I sprinted with all of my energy, heading in the opposite direction from Noah. Holopads captured my flight in real time.

“GLIM! Our eyes are…arboreal!” the Gaian panted. “Helps…judge…branch distances!”

The predator sounded out of breath, which meant it might give up the pursuit soon. I ignored its words, and hoisted myself up a flight of stairs. The human was quick despite its size, able to track me excellently. Tree-dwellers wouldn’t have such a knack for land pursuit, or such wide pupils.

Why is it still trying to lie? All it does is lie!

Noah crested the stairs on my tail. “And the canines…aren’t…for meat eating! They’re for fighting over mates.”

“That’s better?” I screamed.

“To you, yes! They’ve shrunk, from our ancestors…we don’t even do the mate-fighting bit now. Uh, not the biting part.”

I shoved my way by startled pedestrians, and Noah apologized as it followed. Several Venlil stared at the human chasing a rescue; we were creating quite a spectacle. Risking a glance over my shoulder, I saw sweat beads on its skin. The burning of its legs affected it less than me, though.

The predator was close on my heels, and outrunning it seemed a physical impossibility. I waited until right when its shadow dropped to a lunging stance, before doubling back. Noah tripped over itself, as I slithered between its lanky legs. The alien found its footing, and reversed its direction.

I’d managed to put a few paces between us again, but I hadn’t figured out my final act of defiance. Glim was not a number; Noah had been right, ironically. It wasn’t worth living as a monster’s cattle in a new place. I hopped onto the stair railing, and slid down. Gravity deposited me back in the terminal.

The human didn’t risk the quick descent, when the banister wasn’t meant to hold its weight. It was skipping steps all the same, bounding down three at a time. Acid seared through my leg muscles, but I willed myself onward. That tireless thing hit the ground at blinding speed too.

“I wanted to tell you…about us!” Noah called. “You deserve to feel safe.”

Its footsteps pounded against the concrete, and I bolted behind the stopped train’s caboose. Several passengers shouted pleas and exclamations. The Krakotl I’d been talking to tried to swoop down on me, but failed to catch an air current. Tarva and Sara simply watched the madness unfold with agape expressions.

I mounted another platform, as the rumble of an incoming train greeted my ears. The vehicle’s front side was visible, and I hoped that its weight would render me dead on impact. My legs stumbled, but I forced a few more steps out of them. Noah’s shadow stretched over me again; I could hear its ragged pants.

Turning into the train’s motion, I flung myself forward with desperate finality. My body hurtled headlong into a collision; we all knew being captured was the worse option. The human gasped in horror, and made a lunging dive with outstretched arms. It didn’t want its meal to get pulverized.

Thin fingers dug into my scruff, twisting into the soft flesh. Noah skidded on its knees, and contorted its body to tug me back. Its arm was nearly wrested from the socket, but it retained its grip. My forward momentum came to an abrupt halt, and I landed with my snout inches shy of the passing tram.

Tears streamed down my face, and I slumped my head in defeat. My body flailed weakly, but Noah had no difficulty restraining me. It was a superior creature in size and strength. I yipped in panic, swinging my claws at its face. The human shrugged off my frenzied blow, which barely nicked its skin.

“Easy, easy! You’re safe now, I told you.” Noah’s nimble digits began kneading my scruff, and it gently brought me against its chest. “We wanted to tell you everything slowly. This is my fault, and I’m sorry.”

I could feel its heart hammering, and the erratic rise and fall of its chest. The predator refused to let go, as it took a moment to catch its breath. Tarva and Sara hurried over, which caused its lips to curve up. It lifted its catch to show them; I fell limp in its arms with hopelessness. The female human passed a holopad to her counterpart, while the Venlil leader gawked.

“Noah! Are you okay?” the Venlil Governor asked, with a concerned head-tilt.

Noah nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got Glim from here; we need a road trip. Maybe you guys could take care of Haysi?”

“Of course. Her reaction left a lot to be desired,” Sara muttered.

My muscles quivered with fear, as every rumble of the predator’s chest rippled into my body. Noah strolled over to the help desk, earning open stares from several Venlil. Its sinewy arms were unwavering, though it hadn’t hurt me yet. I was trapped in its clutches, and I knew its ‘road trip’ was to a slaughterhouse.

Noah poked my neck with its nails. “Brighten up, Glim! Looks like the train to Celgel Falls arrives any minute. You were getting on the wrong one.”

I was speechless, but my chest shook with a despairing sob. The human stared with its binocular pupils, and its eyebrows pressed together. It wasn’t clear why the predator kept trying to engage me. Both of us knew the truth of this encounter.

“Your Aunt Thima moved to Celgel a year ago, according to our records. You want to see her, right?” Noah pressed.

My ears perked slightly. “T-t-t…th…Thima?”

“Yeah! A nice family reunion. I’m going to tag along to make sure you don’t hurt yourself, any other Venlil, or some poor Gaian out for a stroll.”

“H-human. N-not…Gaian.”

“No, Gaian wasn’t a lie. We have lots of names, Glim: Terran, human, Earthling, mankind, and Gaian. Gaian is just one of the lesser-known ones. Call us whatever you like…not predator, I hope.”

The predator delicately extended my wrist, and pressed the holopad it obtained from Sara against my claws. When I didn’t snatch the device away, Noah physically bent my toes around it. The Terran released its own grip on the electronic, after checking for several seconds that I wouldn’t drop it.

“It’s yours. Examine the facts for yourself,” the beast growled. “First contact, the peer-reviewed human empathy tests, my speech to the Federation, and our rescue of the cradle from the Arxur. That’s where I’d ask you to start.”

I eyed the device. “W-what?”

“You can see everything about us: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Our modern culture, our evolution and aggression, the extent of the Federation’s lies, how we grow meat in lab vats rather than hunting. Some of it might shock or scare you, but it’s all the truth.”

“M-monster. P-predator.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Listen, after you spend awhile with your family, I’m taking you back to the facility.”

“NO! NOT C-CATTLE!”

The Venlil screaming at the top of his lungs attracted more attention, and Noah blinked in frustration. I could sense the predator’s patience waning, so I hushed myself to avoid its ire. Perhaps these lies were kinder than the Arxur’s torment and degradation. Humans were different in that regard.

The alien beast heaved a sigh. “You need treatment. But if you never want to see a human again, just say so once we get back. You will never hear from me or any Terran volunteers again; not inside those walls.”

“I…w-want…never,” I croaked.

“Okay. It’s your choice. I’m just asking you to research honestly first. You can lock in your decision when we‘re back, and ask me anything you like on the ride.”

Noah boarded the arriving train with caution, while I was still trapped in its arms. The holopad beckoned to me, as a hint of curiosity crept in. The words ‘human empathy’ typed themselves, without conscious effort. It was an absurd notion, but I was interested to discover what supposed evidence existed.

Playing along with the Gaians’ game was harmless. A predator’s kindness couldn’t be that convincing, after all.