The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Glim, Venlil Rescue

Date [standardized human time]: December 1, 2136

The half-day train journey kickstarted my confinement with the human. The more time passed, the less I was convinced that we were in Celgel Falls to see Aunt Thima. We stopped off at a hotel for rest, until the Venlil government brought us a car and a driver. It was clear Noah had our authorities at its beck and call.

I was impressed with how well the Gaian could control its instincts, and with how thorough its propaganda was. Reading about secret predators within the Federation was jaw-dropping; that rattled my worldview to the core. It was lunacy for the Kolshians to think flesh-eaters could be tamed! Any credibility the Terrans had gained was their fault.

Human behavior did prove curious, especially rescue footage of the Gojids. That was negated by the fact that they invaded the cradle; Earth was the aggressor in the conflict. A lackluster excuse about Prime Minister Piri staging an assault was their cover for their warmongering. It was an opportunity to conquer the lesser races, and begin an empire.

But as a former exterminator, I couldn’t say I didn’t feel a sliver of doubt. Gaians broke a lot of rules that I’d known since birth, whether they were lying or not. I hadn’t worked up the courage to ask Noah any questions yet. However, there were a lot of answers I wanted to hear, when the beast was forced to cook up spontaneous retorts.

Maybe I’m not in imminent danger of being devoured. Unless we’re going to a slaughterhouse.

“…giving Haysi space. She hasn’t been eating or drinking, and I think Sara visiting would be a trigger,” Tarva was speaking to Noah, through a video call.

The human pursed its lips. “We should give Haysi as much time as she needs. If she’s not even voicing her concerns, she’s not ready. Glim is trouble, but at least his mind is still there.”

“Just be careful, Noah. This isn’t the capital; it’s a rural area, where Venlil aren’t as open-minded. They don’t regularly interact with humans. You’re not exactly incognito either.”

“Are you worried about me? A monstrous predator like me can scare off a few fanatics.”

“Please, try not to scare anyone! The footage of you chasing Glim is making the rounds, and let’s just say…it’s a bad look. ‘Human ambassador hunts Venlil cattle in train station.’”

“It wasn’t like that! Glim could’ve hurt someone. I had to stop him.”

“I know, Noah. I like to be involved with things myself, but maybe we shouldn’t have gotten wrapped up in this at all. We’re too high profile to be ordinary helpers.”

The Gaian scowled. “It was your idea to sponsor a Venlil in the first place. You said it was good PR to ‘do our part.’”

“And you said you wanted to. Does it really matter whose fault it is?” Governor Tarva hissed.

“No. I just don’t want your media team to toss me under the bus.”

“Stars, I hate all of your idioms. ‘Kill two birds with one stone.’ ‘Cut to the chase.’ ‘Stabbed in the back.’ Are there any that aren’t about being maimed or killed?”

“One or two.”

“You’re infuriating. We’ll settle this later. Just be safe, okay?”

Noah bared its teeth to itself, as the Venlil leader abandoned the call. I studied the Gaian for a long moment, and considered the adoration in Tarva’s eyes. That emotion looked like love, but I didn’t understand how such strong feelings could arise toward a monster. Perhaps I should regard the beast with gendered pronouns, like he was a person.

Earth’s presence was less nefarious than Wriss’s Dominion, from what I could tell. The empathy tests were convincing, since it was difficult to fool scientists on a neurochemical level. Why had Noah lied to us though? His actions hadn’t been innocuous, conning and misleading us.

The Gaian ambassador was ignoring my presence, for now; I was certain he was avoiding direct eye contact. His focus drifted to a sign in the distance, which read ‘Celgel Retirement Home.’ His hand reached for a visor, and he pressed it across his paralyzing pupils. I wondered what that accomplished, when every Venlil here knew of his predatory identity.

“W-why do you w-wear your visor out here?” I gasped out.

The human palmed his chin. “Because, these are elderly Venlil. I don’t want to give anyone a heart attack. Any Venlil over 65 weren’t allowed in the exchange program, to avoid cardiac episodes.”

“T-thima…is how old? I don’t know h-how many…years—”

“She’s 74, Glim. You were gone for 11 years.”

“No…that’s not p-possible.”

“I’m sorry. I hate to spring this on you, but your aunt’s memory is fading. She’s in the late stages of dementia.”

My gaze shifted to the rural landscape, which stretched to the horizon opposite the assisted living facility. A family reunion where Thima forgot me hadn’t been in my imaginings. I was saddened that I hadn’t been there to help, and to visit her. Had her mind deteriorated because she was alone?

Noah hesitated, before moving a hand slowly. His fingers hovered over my wrist for several seconds, giving me a chance to pull away. The Gaian empathetically squeezed my forearm, like a Venlil would with their tail; his touch was delicate and frail. It was clear he was leaving the option for me to withdraw, since I knew from the train station that he was much stronger.

There were several things I’d read that weighed on my mind; I couldn’t succumb to believing the narrative. The humans were allies with the child-eating Arxur, even if they’d used that alignment to liberate Venlil captives. Their current objective was unraveling the Federation, and they were bestial hunters too. Apparently, Terran aggression had been documented by observers, prior to first contact.

I can’t remember learning about them in school, other than vaguely as an extinct predator race, I mused. The internet claims they’ve had over 10,000 battles in their history.

“H-hundreds of wars in just the century…after your w-world war. The first one,” I whined. “How c-could you ever…k-keep peace?”

Noah was quiet for several seconds. “We have to grow the fuck up. Humans want peace, yet we’ve only ever known competition. It doesn’t come naturally, but we’re starting to act like a united planet.”

“V-venlil, always…at peace.”

“I doubt that. The Kolshian gentling took hold, and the Farsul sanitized your past. I think you used to be feisty herbivores, until they convinced you of your weakness.”

“And…if we’re n-not s-strong?”

“We’ll teach you. We’ll protect you, with a fierceness you’ve never seen before.”

Noah’s lips curved up, and I dissociated myself from the rush of fear. Perhaps the constant snarling betrayed his deceit, since the gesture came off as subconscious. The human rushed to cover his mouth, like he knew he’d done something wrong. If threat displays were intuitive, that explained the full-face masks at the hospital.

I recalled how the Arxur would snarl just looking at us, licking their lips with appetite. Sapient predators used their teeth to assert dominance in conversation too, from what I could tell. The guards would flash fangs when contesting a particular catch, or boasting of their hunts. The Gaians possessed the same urges.

The Venlil driver parked the car outside the nursing home, and Noah opened the door. I felt paralyzed, befuddled by the paradoxical humans. It wasn’t clear what to think of them. Their motives were ambiguous, and their mannerisms flipped between hostility and sympathy on a dime.

“Smiling, or ‘snarling’ as you say, is a submissive gesture in primates. I understand it is not so for other animals,” Noah sighed.

I coaxed myself out of the car. “N-nonsense. H-how can t-teeth…baring…”

“Be friendly? It’s about their position. Teeth apart, jaw tension, and lips curled back; that’s actual hostility. But teeth together and lips relaxed shows we’re not about to attack.”

“S-so it’s saying you don’t want to bite?”

And predators need to communicate that constantly?!

The Gaian ambassador nodded. “Exactly. Venlil don’t understand the subtle difference. The few that try to replicate it usually just look constipated, man.”

I chuckled, in spite of myself. “You h-have these…answers well-rehearsed.”

“I’m used to explaining everything we do. If I’d explained us better in my speech, a billion people wouldn’t have died. Since then, I sifted through our evolution pretty thoroughly.”

Noah’s voice turned scratchy, and his ensuing cough sounded a bit congested. Did the Gaian consider himself responsible for the extermination attempt? He’d stated Earth’s case pretty well, for five minutes broken up by hecklers; guns had been trained on him the whole time too. A non-predator would’ve frozen in fear.

The fact that he gave anyone pause, over exterminating warlike horrors, is miraculous. Nobody in his position could’ve done better.

The human pawed at his nose, before opening the door to the lobby. He gagged at once, and muttered something about “disinfectant smell.” A middle-aged Venlil sat at a reception desk, startling at our appearance. Her eyes went wide with fear, and her ears pinned back. She snapped out of it enough to tap a notice with her tail.

A sign was taped to the desk, reading “No Humans Permitted” in several scripts. The Gaian crossed his arms, and leaned back with an intimidating frown. I observed the tightness of his jaw and the slant of his eyebrows; this was genuine hostility. It was worryingly easy to decipher the predator’s mouth contortions, once told what to look for.

Noah sighed. “See, Glim? Still think we run the show here?”

“I don’t know. You put up with a lot,” I muttered.

“W-what…you c-can’t be here,” the Venlil receptionist stammered. “You need to leave! T-the human, anyway.”

The Gaian lifted his visor. “I think you’ll make an exception for the Terran ambassador. I have powerful friends.”

“There’s s-security footage! Are you g-going…going to attack us to get t-through? You’re trespassing.”

“Glim wants to visit his Aunt Thima. Make that happen, and we’ll leave.”

“N-no. You’re not welcome here, Noah.”

The veins in the Gaian’s neck bulged, and his fingers clenched tighter. His lips curled back to his pink gums, while his eyes dilated. So that was what a primate’s aggressive snarl looked like. I skittered back, remembering Noah’s warning about intent to bite. I didn’t want to be within snacking distance.

My inner exterminator agreed that humans shouldn’t be prowling our streets, and wished for their non-existence. But my sentimental side remembered Noah tucking me in, and playing games with Haysi and I. If the predator was emulating empathy, he deserved an award. There was more to this conqueror than my Arxur tormentors.

The Venlil receptionist wasn’t backing down from her statement, and was gaining more confidence by the second. She bared her own teeth, reaching for a phone. Perhaps this employee intended to dial exterminators. I was increasingly worried about the Gaian biting this individual.

“Don’t talk to Noah like that!” A Zurulian nurse trotted into the room, and glared at the receptionist. “Please, forgive Carliva; she doesn’t think highly of your kind.”

“Those flesh-beasts drain our resources, and our taxes go to their meat factories! They set up their encampments anywhere, and litter our big cities. Some of them don’t even work!” the Venlil snapped back.

“Earth got bombed to oblivion. Those humans lost family members and everything they own. Wouldn’t you be grieving too?”

The quadruped flicked her ears, and Carliva slunk off with a look of loathing. The Zurulian nurse shook her head, before approaching Noah with cautious steps. The Gaian refitted his visor, and clasped his hands behind his back. He dipped his head, perhaps to show appreciation.

“Please listen, Ambassador Noah. I can’t allow you to interact with our patients,” the nurse said.

Noah hissed in exasperation. “What?! I thought you were on my side!”

“I am. Many of our residents have memory problems, and wouldn’t know what a human is. A scare at their advanced age could be deadly. You don’t want to kill someone, do you?”

“Of course not. But Glim’s been an Arxur captive for a decade. He needs to see his Aunt Thima.”

“Why don’t I take Glim to her room, and you wait here? Then you leave after, without any unwanted incidents.”

The predator paced for a few seconds, startling the Zurulian. Even with the visor on, I could sense his unnatural eyes on me. Noah was considering whether I’d run off at the first opportunity, which was a high possibility. He must be feigning deliberation to seem reasonable. Why would he let me out of his sight?

The human went to great lengths to track my escape, and hunted me in a public venue. He wouldn’t release his catch.

“Okay. Thanks for helping us, Nurse.” The Gaian sat in a chair, which was comically small for him. “I trust you, Glim. The question is if you trust me.”

I withheld a disbelieving hiss, and tried to make sense of my sudden release. Of course I didn’t trust a predator, after years as a cattle captive! Besides, his introduction started with deceit, which eliminated any chance of mutual trust. Concealing all information about his kind didn’t inspire positive thoughts.

Noah had done an admirable job of swaying me, when I scorned any nuance originally. But our first encounter proved he was a trickster. I followed the Zurulian down a hallway, and relaxed as the Gaian didn’t follow us. This was a pristine opportunity to escape captivity; I could evade detection better in this less-integrated town.

The Zurulian stopped outside one door, and gestured for me to enter. My ears perked up with hope, as I crept into the room. Thima wheezed on her side, and her facial fur was starkly snow white. The glassiness in her eyes reminded me of cattle Venlil; drool was running down her chin. An old sitcom played on a TV, which she blankly watched.

“Thima?” I whispered.

My aunt screeched. “HELP! There’s a s-strange man in my room!”

“It’s me, Glim. I came to visit you.”

“You’re not Glim. Glim was captured by the Arxur.”

“Y-yes, that was true for 11 years. The humans traded for me. See the neck brand?”

“Human? What kind of species name is that?”

“The aliens, Thima…the predators. They returned me, your nephew.”

“Lies! I want you gone. You’re not Glim!”

“S-stop playing. Don’t you recognize my voice?”

Aunt Thima glowered at me, before wailing for assistance. She began unplugging the wires from her arms in a fit, and knocked her drinking water from the nightstand. I gaped in horror, as the one person who loved me wanted me gone. Tears swelled in my eyes, and I rushed out of the room.

The Zurulian medic yelled at me to calm down, but my feet were moving on their own. I was blind to my direction and my surroundings; the facility was a blur. There was nothing left here on Venlil Prime, not even my family. The world had changed too much to process. All I wanted was for Thima to hold me, and whisper that it was alright.

My paws wrapped around something warm, and I clung on for dear life. Sobs rattled my body, so I pressed my face into a synthetic fabric. My hugging support tensed beneath my arms, and fleshy appendages tapped my back. I let go with horror, as I realized where I‘d run. My instincts went back to the predator for comfort.

Noah massaged my neck. “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“You don’t know what it’s like!” I screamed.

“Actually, I do. My dad had Alzheimer’s. I’d visit him every weekend, and he didn’t remember who I was. He’d tell me about his little boy, Noah, who wanted to be an astronaut…and I’d just smile.”

“But I…needed T-Thima. Take me back to the facility! Take me back. Anywhere but here.”

“I know it’s hard, but it’s not her fault. Are you sure you want to leave?”

“Please, get me out of here. I can’t lose anyone else. That’s not Thima anymore.”

“You don't mean that. Sometimes, she remembers and she’s there, Glim. Tarva’s people got her to record those messages for you. She was glad you’re home.”

The Gaian picked me up, a stoic expression on his face. My profession had always taught me that predators should be eradicated, but this was the nicest hunter I’d ever encountered. For some reason, my subconscious felt bonded to Noah. He was a steady presence, when everything else was crumbling.

I couldn’t ignore the evidence from our travels either. The way the Venlil receptionist spoke to my caretaker was irreverent and hostile. Judging from Tarva’s phone call, it sounded like open criticism was allowed on the internet too. Those attitudes wouldn’t be allowed to circulate, if humans conquered our home.

Furthermore, the oblivious Gaians at lunch had been discussing morals and sympathy. They had no way of knowing anyone was listening. With my exposure to the Arxur, I knew how different those pitying attitudes were. The grays considered keeping us as prey to be our rightful state, and they flaunted it.

“Glim, can you talk to Haysi?” Noah slid back into the car, and removed his visor. “You could help us explain it to the other refugees, better than we did for you.”

Tears dripped down my cheeks. “I don’t know. M-maybe.”

“Okay. And do you still want me to drop contact with you, when we get back?”

The Gaian stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath. It was as if the ambassador was bracing himself for rejection; that implied it would cause him pain if I answered in the negative. Noah’s body language betrayed that he cared what I thought of him. The torrent of fear since first contact seemed to have taken its toll.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” I croaked.

The human curved his lips. “Good. I haven’t taught you the half of our body language.”

My gaze darted out the window, and a shudder crept down my spine. I, of all Venlil, shouldn’t be trusting of a lying predator, but I was giving Noah a second chance. Human charisma had swayed my feelings a bit too much.