The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Glim, Venlil Rescue

Date [standardized human time]: December 6, 2136

Noah opted to give me some space once we returned to the facility. Despite my consent to speak to him, the Gaian realized I was confused about my feelings. The warmth of his arms lingered in my mind, along with the welcome promise that everything would be okay. Predators weren’t supposed to have compassion; my extermination mentor taught me that their existence was a threat.

A human knocked on my door, and peeked a helmeted head inside. I could tell from the broad shoulders and rich hands that it was Noah, checking on me. My instincts rekindled as he approached, but it was mixed with bizarre relief. Why was I happy that a deceitful hunter had come to visit?

“Hi Glim.” The Gaian spoke in a gravelly voice, and seated himself on the edge of my bed. “How are you feeling?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “S-sad. L-lonely.”

“Aw, you missed me, huh? It’s been a hectic few days for Tarva and I, but I’m happy to see you too.”

“Hectic…how?”

“We conducted a military raid against an Arxur sector. Word is, human forces liberated millions of farm captives.”

“You are bringing them to Earth?”

“No. The Mazics owe us, well, the continued existence of their homeworld. They’re handling a lot of the logistics.”

As sensational as the story was, the Kolshians had spearheaded an attack on Khoa a short time ago. The Terrans repelled the offensive, and supposedly talked the Federation down from orbital bombings. Humans could be rather persuasive, but I found it difficult to imagine them opening a chat mid-battle. Regardless, President Cupo fawned over the United Nation in the aftermath.

I read that the Mazics commissioned a statue of a “Captain Janice Monahan” in the capital. The humans protested this act, likely to maintain humble appearances.

I flicked my ears. “Is it true that you’re building colonies in their territory?”

“Zhao has a plan to have functional settlements up and running by the end of the calendar year,” Noah growled. “The infrastructure on abandoned Mazic worlds is a good start…even if it’s not built for us.”

“I’m surprised Cupo didn’t offer to help you build from scratch.”

“Ah, he did. Get a load of this: those ‘helpers’ showed up at a potential colony with antimatter bombs. They wanted to destroy the native ecosystem! Obviously, the humans they rendezvoused with got a bit riled up.”

“Why? Those Mazics were doing the bulk of the work…making it safe for habitation.”

“Please, tell me that’s not the colony work you did. Glim, you’re too good for that.”

“C-come again? I w-was a good exterminator.”

“Never mind. Before I ask what I came here to ask, how much do you know about our political situation?”

The Gaians had solidified an unlikely coalition, and put the infamous events of a predator refugee stampede (with explosions) to bed. The hyper-capitalist Fissans and Nevoks buried their rivalry enough to resupply the human fleet. The Takkans were major contributors to Earth’s manufacturing power as well. Their ambassador had been taken prisoner on Aafa over a sabotage incident, and that rubbed their brass the wrong way.

There were some parties in the human alliance, like the functionally-extinct Thafki and the distant Paltans and Sivkits, whose support was intangible. However, newcomers contributed enough to account for them. Neutrals like the Sulean-Iftali alliance rallied support, and flipped several non-aggressors to the Terran team. The occupied Harchen and Tilfish had their armadas co-opted, as part of their surrender agreements.

“I get the gist of it. You have a small core of allies,” I answered. “You would be better off, numbers-wise, if you could flip a few more neutrals to your side.”

Noah breathed a tentative sigh. “You’re right on the money. We’ve identified a handful of non-hostile marks, mainly those who voted for a temporary truce against the Arxur. There were 107, but our…interactions with the grays turned many against us.”

“The fact that you work with those demons is disgusting.”

“I don’t disagree. Our attack on the Arxur sector might be the diplomatic fuel we need with the Feds. We convince them that we’re gearing up for an eventual war with the Dominion—”

“And you think you can get more ships.”

“Yes. A few individuals from species we’re targeting as allies were liberated from this sector’s cattle farm; we want to return them as a sign of goodwill. We’d like the rescues to be friendly to humans, and convince their governments we’re different from the grays.”

Perhaps this was all some long con by the Gaians to strengthen their military. Noah just outright stated his motives with the Arxur attack; it could be collusion between the two predators, giving off the appearance of enmity. Were the humans just using the liberated cattle to gain a diplomatic edge? Would they reveal their true feelings toward us once they’d smooth-talked the neutrals?

White-hot anger scorched my chest. “Ridiculous. You have no idea what the Arxur did to people like us. How are you going to convince them to trust another predator, let alone like you?”

“I don’t know. This is a long-winded way of asking you, but we want your help,” the Gaian said.

My paws adhered to the smooth helmet, and I pulled it up off his face. Sincerity swirled in his piercing eyes, which bored into my skull. Part of me hated him, for reminding me of the grays’ pupils searching for their next meal. How many other cattle would have helpless thoughts jogged by this face? Hell, the humans’ features were more unsettling than the Arxur’s purely-predator countenance.

Maybe Noah really wants this to work, but he doesn’t understand our trauma. After years of captivity, most cattle want nothing to do with them.

“D-do…you know why t-they kept me alive?” I managed.

The Gaian’s wrinkled lips curved down. “I can imagine. I...I am so profoundly sorry. We found multiple DNA matches to you, from cattle raised in captivity. If you want to see them—”

“Those are not my kids! I didn’t choose to conceive them, and I don’t want to look at those abominations. And don’t tell me it’s not their fault, because I don’t fucking care.”

“Okay. I’m sorry I brought it up. I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Stop trying to be nice! Just because you Gaians show us a little kindness, that doesn’t make any of your flaws go away. You’re selfish to want those cattle to be your friends. You’re selfish to want me to be your friend.”

Ambassador Noah was silent for a long moment, at a loss for how to respond. The human pulled his helmet out of my paws, and tugged it over his head. What an impeccable actor he was, if he was playing us all. The emotionless veil obscured his feelings, but I could sense his pained expression. The bulky predator rose from my bed, before marching toward the door with hasty steps.

A twinge of guilt tugged at my heart. “I’m s-sorry, Noah. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No problem,” the Gaian rumbled. “I asked if you wanted me to steer clear of you, and you said no. I misunderstood.”

“You didn’t. What I meant to say was that we’re damaged goods…myself included. It’s difficult for me to be around you even now. We can’t just forget what happened. And I can’t make any cattle sing a predator’s praises.”

“You’re right. The UN has no right to use you as a political pawn. What I asked was unfair, Glim.”

“It was, but I’ll do it. I’ll try, and we’ll see what happens.”

“Oh, thank God. I should turn you down, but the Haysi situation’s got Sara in a rut. Maybe we could start with that small issue? Haysi won’t even eat…we had to hook her up to an IV.”

“Why didn’t you start with that? Take me there.”

The predator flexed his meaty fingers, in a way that seemed to beckon me forward. The back of his helmet spit my reflection at me, which I tried not to focus on. There were dozens of Gaians working with Venlil staff, often conferring in hushed tones. The humans kept their masks on near patients, but I could see them in their full brain-melting visages in break rooms.

My surroundings looked vaguely familiar, as we passed across the linoleum floor. Noah tested the door handle, and gestured for me to enter. A masked Gaian was seated just inside the doorway, huddled against the wall with a laptop. Complex equations were on her screen, and she was typing away with a vengeance. A tissue box sat right beside the primate.

That left the logical deduction that this was Sara, the other caretaker. I’d seen the female human at the train station, with her puffy hair and softer features. Both twin beds sat empty; one had belonged to me before my escapade. Haysi, my fellow refugee who’d once run the Venlil Museum of History, was nowhere to be seen. It took me a moment to hear her scratchy breathing, hiding under the bed.

“Sara, give Glim the rundown,” Noah barked.

The female human snorted. “Not much to it. Haysi saw us turn our heads to look at her, then locked herself in a closet. I felt pretty terrible for adding to her trauma.”

I eyed the Gaian warily. “You n-never meant for us to find out the truth. If it makes you feel better, you can’t have made it worse than Noah chasing me through the train station…shouting about his teeth.”

“Canine teeth,” the male predator corrected. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Sara chuckled. “Don’t fret, I won’t be replicating that with Haysi. I’d leave her alone, if that’s what she wanted. But I can’t watch her waste away like this.”

“Right. What else have you done to her?” I crouched next to the Gaian scientist, and ensured there was no Venlil blood residue on her suit. If she’d had a lapse and attacked, she wouldn’t admit it. “Haysi was lucid when I left. Something made her snap; don’t start lying again.”

“You have a dickish attitude, Glim, but I’d take that over how broken Haysi is. I got her to join a video chat, and she was speaking her thoughts then. She had me take off my mask…hasn’t said a word since. Something must’ve made it worse.”

Recalling my own disgust to the sandwich-munching Gaians, I could understand why Haysi was appalled. Perhaps it was those unpigmented eyes, or the furless cheeks infused with the tinge of their own blood. It could’ve simply been that looking at a predator brought back Haysi’s worst memories. That was a plight I could sympathize with, and was also why it was inane that Sara had planted herself in this room.

“So you know she’s upset, and you’re staying around her constantly?!” I scowled at the predator, praying she wouldn’t strike me down for my bravado. “W-why are you in here?”

Sara closed her laptop. “I did give Haysi space for days, but she was not eating or speaking. I thought maybe exposure therapy, just seeing that I wouldn’t go berserk, might snap her out of it. Kinda like the exchange program…”

“Those Venlil talked to Gaians for weeks before. They wanted to be there!”

“Yes, I know that, but the principle—”

“Get out! Get the fuck out of here!”

My stomach did somersaults, as it dawned on me how aggressive I’d been with the predator. What was I thinking, screaming orders in her face? This was provoking retaliation; I was certain the thought was playing at Sara’s mind. The human’s breathing hitched, and she slowly rose to her feet. The laptop was tucked beneath her arm.

While Sara was shorter than Noah, she still loomed over me. The male human was lurking behind me, capable of piling on to his packmate’s assault. I remembered the ease with which he shrugged off my blows at the train station. The Terrans could sling me around like a ragdoll, and unleash decades of combat mastery on me. For all I knew, mouthing off in their custody was a death sentence.

The Gaians are going to put me back into my place. Prey don’t get to boss around superior creatures.

Sara strode past me, helmet angled toward the doorway. I shied away from her, protecting my vulnerable areas. Noah glanced at me, before wrapping an arm around his packmate’s shoulder. The female scientist ducked her head, and the predators vanished from sight. I gaped in bewilderment, amazed that Sara just…left, exactly as I told her to.

My paws strode over to Haysi. I found the Venlil historian with her face pressed against the tile, and staring with unblinking detachment. It reminded me of Aunt Thima’s glassy gaze at the facility, devoid of thought. I knelt beside the bed, and reached out to intertwine my tail with hers.

Haysi screamed, as she felt physical contact. “NO!! STOP!”

“Easy! It’s me, Glim.” I yanked my tail back, and lowered my head to the floor. “Remember me? The one that got away?”

“I t-thought they k-killed you. Escape w-was…”

“A death sentence with t-the Arxur. Listen to me, the Venlil out there are happy. These Gaians allow a decency quality of life, and they passed an empathy test.”

“C-cheated.”

“Why do you say that? If you know something I don’t, we need to make a plan. We need to play the game, Haysi. What did the Gaians do?”

“I k-know what they are…the second I saw Sara’s face. H-human. Terrible.”

“Yes, their most common name is human. They told me too.”

“They didn’t tell me. I s-studied them…at the museum.”

Curiosity piqued my interest, and I wondered what exactly Haysi knew about our caretakers. The Federation had accrued evidence to support our extermination plans; humanity’s war-stained history wasn’t one they tried to hide. What could they do more atrocious than being a predator and killing each other? What had this Venlil seen that was so horrible that it stuck with her post-captivity?

“Just breathe. You can tell me everything.” I coaxed her out from under the bed, and squeezed her tail for comfort. “What did you see at the museum?”

“W-well. I wanted to create an exhibit on humans that was about more than just their wars,” Haysi explained. “T-the Federation…the Farsul Archives were happy to send over unfiltered broadcasts. Those m-monsters act like us one minute, but they are vicious beyond comprehension.”

“It’s okay. They’re not here now. Go on.”

“W-where do I start, describing pure evil? That was what my exhibit on humans was called: Pure Evil.”

“I would think that title is reserved for the Arxur.”

“T-the g-grays don’t pretend at least. Humans would talk about marriage and love, but I saw documentation of them physically beating the people they said they loved. They would talk about community, then talk about murderers on the loose for unfathomable crimes. They would say they loved nature, then mount animal heads on their walls.”

My eyes widened in horror. “What?!”

“That’s not the least of it, Glim. They treated their own kind like cattle throughout history; selling them, locking them up in pens, and forcing them to toil. Whether they eat us or not, they’re prepping the infrastructure now. They already know how to run sapient slaves just like the grays.”

“But…Noah isn’t like that. The empathy tests…”

“The empathy tests make it worse! They feel everything they say they do, then disregard that trait entirely. It makes them better manipulators, and that’s why they evolved it. Do you seriously trust this Noah?”

I leaned back on my haunches, thinking for a long moment. Haysi seemed lucid enough to me; she must’ve been dissociating around Sara. If she’d witnessed humanity performing such depraved acts, that explained why the mask reveal sent her spiraling. The Venlil historian was willing to consider that a predator might be okay, but not this particular species. Wasn’t that telling?

Noah admitted that he wanted to use the cattle to gain military assets. How do you know he wasn’t pretending to care about you?

“The fact that you didn’t answer immediately means the answer is no,” Haysi asserted.

I twitched my ear. “It m-means I’m not sure. Are you sure t-that they uniformly deserve death?”

“As an exterminator, you should have that answer. I’m certain that their presence is a bad thing, and they can’t behave like a civilized race for long.”

There was at least a grain of truth in her claims, proven by the ongoing war with the Federation. Humans needed to suppress empathy to work with child-eating Arxur at all. It was difficult to trust a species that displayed all the right cues, then turned to predatory wickedness without warning. Nonetheless, Noah had been the only steady presence on my homeworld; he comforted me when everything I loved was gone.

Maybe the Gaian was exploiting the fact that I had nothing left on Venlil Prime. That shrewd intelligence must’ve realized that my caretaker was the only sense of stability I had.

I cleared my throat. “I understand. You need to take better care of yourself, Haysi. You’re making them pay more attention to you with all this.”

“Why? What’s the point of anything, with humans infesting our home?” she hissed.

“If you’re right about their intentions, and t-they decide us cattle are too much trouble…they’ll just skip to the worst phase. We could eke out a few months of happiness, for millions of Venlil who’ve also suffered like us.”

“That happiness is a lie. This only ends with our t-torment.”

“It’s kinder than the grays, either way. Please, play along with this ‘rehabilitation.’ If not for yourself, do it for the others.”

The female Venlil thought for several minutes, before mumbling a reluctant agreement. I eased her onto the bed, and strode out to find Noah in a daze. Ascertaining humanity’s true intentions was my top priority; everything Haysi discussed must be researched. What bothered me most was that amidst atrocities, the Gaians proclaimed their emotional sensitivity. There could be no explanation for that behavior.

It would require calculation to determine whether to broach the subject with the Terran ambassador. Noah stated he was used to answering dark questions, but some subjects might cross the line. If the Gaians thought I knew too much of their history, that offer to help with cattle accommodations could vanish. The relative freedom I enjoyed now could be whisked away with it.

The suicidal side of my brain wanted to spill everything to the dark-skinned human all the same. I desired for him to hold me in his strong arms, and tell me that everything was going to be okay. It was no wonder the predators had enraptured Venlil Prime with their charm. Even a captive exterminator like myself couldn’t help but to fall for it.