The Nature of Predators - Arxur Cattle World Battle (6/6)

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Memory transcription subject: Zarn, Federation Infantry

Date [standardized human time]: March 4, 2137

The claustrophobia inside the Terran aircraft was unbearable. There was nowhere to sit that wasn’t within lunging distance of a predator, especially with two other humans in the cockpit. I scooted as far away from any of them as possible, trying to sink into the interior wall. They could abduct us, and nobody in the Federation would know a thing, I thought darkly. They could chop us up and scatter our remains across this stellar system.

Rumi, on the other hand, was chumming it up with Dawson. I winced seeing him sitting side-by-side with the human. His tail was resting over the predator’s leg, which was a gesture of familiarity reserved for close friends. You’d think he was talking to a long-lost brother, not a born-and-bred killing machine.

“…snuck liquor into the camp, and was sharing with everyone in our unit. I thought to myself, ‘This new recruit is crazy,’ and it was love at first sight,” Rumi said. “I decided then and there that I was going to make him my best mate. Zarn was more fun before we deployed, you know.”

The human tilted his head. “Really?! I didn’t get the party animal vibe from him at all.”

“The war got to the best of us, man.” Sadness clouded Rumi’s eyes. It was obvious he was recalling soldiers we lost and the friends we buried. “There’s not much to celebrate…and alcohol is a lot harder to come by too. I mean, we can’t even get food on the front lines.”

“When was the last time you went home? How long have you been here?” Dawson asked.

“I lost track at two and a half years. It’s been several more since then. The letters from home stopped coming, and that was the only way I knew the stellar date. We haven’t left this hellhole for a single day since we shipped out. I figured I’d die here.”

“The folks at home stopped writing you? Why?”

“I don’t know. My parents wouldn’t have just ghosted me. Either the Arxur bombed our planet, or the Federation got so desperate that they drafted the elders too. I don’t know which is worse.”

“I’m sorry.” Dawson wrapped an arm around Rumi’s neck, massaging his shoulder. Seeing the predator’s meaty paws so close to his vital areas made me cringe. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. You deserve closure.”

“Yeah, I wish I could just go back to the way things were. Maybe you understand. What did you do before you got drafted, Dawson?”

“I wasn’t drafted. I joined voluntarily.”

“What? Why?!”

“I don’t know. I always wanted to be a soldier.”

“Nobody wants to be a soldier.”

“I guess we’re the exception. It seemed heroic to protect our home. The Arxur needed killing, and I was happy to take the first crack at it.”

“Your kind does seem attuned to killing. You were terrifying today, you know.”

“Yes…we know. Anyway, what about you? What would you do if you weren’t a soldier?”

“I had a job lined up at a local university after graduation, but then the Federation drafted us. I wanted to be a history teacher.”

“Are you talking Takkan history or alien history? What was your specialty?”

“I wrote my thesis on the development of predators. The Arxur’s warfare is sobering, but it’s been dissected in academia for years. My fascination was with the other ones.”

“The other ones?”

“The humans, from a Class-3 world called Earth. It’s alright, most people haven’t heard of them. The Federation doesn’t want anyone to realize that predators are more than a single instance, so it’s glossed over. They’re doing us a disservice. What we need is to study predators, so we can adapt to their bloodthirsty mindsets.”

My ears perked up with interest. So that’s why the planet name “Earth” sounded familiar; Rumi had mentioned it in one of his nerdy tangents. Maybe it would have served me well to listen in the past, instead of tuning him out whenever he discussed anything historical.

“What were these humans like?” Dawson asked, leaning closer.

“Well, the Federation just saw the humans’ cruel side. Don’t get me wrong, they were a tormented species. But I browsed their broadcasts and radio shows, and really listened. They weren’t a carbon copy of the Arxur. They wanted more than endless war and the taste of blood on their lips. They had real hopes and dreams.”

“Such as?”

“I kid you not, I heard them talk about love and freedom.  There are so many depictions in their visual media of family bonding, romantic connections, good-natured jokes. There was evidence they were spacefaring, on their own, too. Primitive chemical rockets, but still. It shows they were capable of cooperation and scientific achievement.”

“You keep using the past tense. What happened to them?”

“Their predator instincts made them territorial, and they killed themselves with radioactive weapons. I think they were aware what they were doing was wrong, but they couldn’t overcome their aggression. They couldn’t stop fighting with each other. The Federation was relieved at their self-destruction, but to me, it’s a tragic fate that could’ve been avoided. I wish I could’ve spoken to them.”

“Why? You just said they were territorial and aggressive.”

“So that I could understand. I think they were capable of learning, but they needed a push in the right direction. The Federation tried to uplift the wrong predators; the humans might have listened to us. I think they would help us fight the Arxur, and their insight would be invaluable. Instead, the Federation planned to kill the hu—”

“Rumi, stop talking,” I snapped.

He raised his eye-ridges, annoyed at the interruption. “What? Not everyone is bored by predator history. You’re just jealous, aren’t you?”

“No. Talk about any other topic, please.”

“Why? I’m perfectly happy with this one.”

“You do what you want, but you’re telling him about his own people.”

As nice as it had been to hear unfiltered views on the enigmatic humans, it sounded like he was about to snitch on the Federation. Realization flashed in Rumi’s eyes as he surveyed the primate’s form, and he swallowed with nervousness.

“Shit. How did I not see the resemblance?” His voice dropped to a squeaky whisper, and he slowly withdrew his tail from the primate’s lap. “You’re them, aren’t you? T-the humans?”

Dawson lifted his goggles, just enough that his forward-facing eyes were visible. “Guilty.”

It was one thing to speak about predators in the abstract, and another to be sitting across from one. I knew from experience how disorienting that stare was the first time, and how it made our instincts go haywire. Rumi’s breathing devolved into sporadic gasps. His eyes swiveled over to me; subconsciously, his brain craved familiarity and reassurance. The rush of fear chemicals had him quivering like a leaf. To his credit, he managed not to move away, but I wondered if he was going to pass out.

The human, observing his terror, leaned back. “It’s alright.  We don’t want to hurt you. Like you said, we’re here to fight the Arxur.”

“I…the—that’s why you have overkill w-weaponry,” Rumi stuttered. “S-sorry.”

“For what?” Dawson asked.

The Takkan closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. “My brain is telling me you’re a threat. I can’t help it.”

“I know. You’re calmer than most.”

“How did humans survive? I have to know. You irradiated your planet.”

“You guys are wrong about that. One of the few things we agreed on was not nuking each other.”

“Our computers detected hundreds of nuclear explosions.”

“That must have been tests. We’re stupid, but not that stupid. Governments contained the real weapons to unpopulated areas…for the most part.”

“I’m glad you’re alive, for what it’s worth. I hope I didn’t offend you with anything I said.”

“Not at all. Your take was more nuanced than the Federation’s.”

“And I hope I was right. You can do a lot of good, you know, if you use your power the right way.”

“We’re trying.”

“Thank you for trying.” Rumi snuggled up to the human again, leaning his head against the primate’s chest. With how relaxed his body language was, his instincts must have quieted down. “You have a kind heart, Dawson, I can sense it. Don’t let anyone change that.”

I was floored at the utter lack of self-preservation on display. Had Rumi lost his mind?! Why would he leave himself in a vulnerable position, knowing that Dawson was a predator?

The human’s eyes widened with surprise. It was clear from how he tensed up that the physical contact caught him off guard, given the predator reveal. Dawson looked awkward, and didn’t appear to know whether to return the gesture. He seemed hesitant to breathe, as though worried any sudden movements would spook the Takkan. His hand hovered over the alien for a second, but it was withdrawn after further thought.

Rumi noticed the human’s reservation, however, and settled the dilemma for him. The Takkan grabbed Dawson’s hand, and placed it right over his rib cage. The rust-colored soldier sighed with content, nestling into the padded combat vest.

It was settled, then; my best friend was out of his damn mind. There was no chance the predator couldn’t feel his heartbeat. I wouldn’t even blame Dawson for losing control here, since this bordered on teasing his instincts. The rhythmic pulse was a constant reminder of the warm lifeblood coursing through a prey animal’s veins. It screamed, “Hey, my vital organs are here!” If Rumi didn’t get gobbled up as a snack, he needed some serious mental help.

The possibility of bonding with predators terrified me. I worried that one day, I would be delusional enough to place myself in the clutches of a beast, too.

A/N – More AU! Zarn’s friend, Rumi, has studied the history of the dastardly little known predators from Earth, then realizes who he is flying with…and has an unconventional reaction. What do you think about how Rumi took the news.

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! I hope you’re enjoying something brand freaking new with Prisoners of Sol!