The Nature of Predators - Arxur Cattle World Battle (3/6)

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Memory transcription subject: Zarn, Federation Infantry

Date [standardized human time]: March 1, 2137

My gun rested on the floor, within arm’s reach. It was pointed at the human; I only hoped I could fire it in time if he lunged at me. Despite the tiredness clouding my mind, I refused to close my eyes. Without a constant state of alertness, Dawson could stir and make a quick meal out of me. The predator’s breathing had leveled out, which meant that he was recovering. I just needed to stay awake a little longer, so I could interrogate him before…actually, what was I going to do with him?

Perhaps it would’ve been better to snatch his food stores and run.

I was on the brink of dozing off when movement flashed in the corner of my vision. Dawson lifted his head and studied his surroundings. The predator’s intense, dilated eyes locked on me, and a shudder rippled down my spine. He began to sit up, and without thinking, I reached for my gun.

“Don’t move!” I snarled, trying to keep my voice steady.

The human raised his hands slowly. “Easy, Zarn. Put the gun down.”

“Don’t use my name, predator,” I spat. “You’re lucky I don’t blow your brains out.”

“You won’t do that. We’re friends, aren’t we? You must have saved my life for a reason.”

“Stop trying to manipulate me.”

“I’m not. What have I done wrong, other than the fact that I’m a predator? Which mind you, I have no control over.”

“I saw you out in the battlefield! You’re a race of killers, just like the Arxur.”

“Just like the Arxur? You’re joking, right? Have they ever shown an ability to understand emotion? Do they ever speak to you, or show curiosity?”

Where was the human going with these questions? If anything, he was proving my point about predators. “No.”

Dawson nodded. “Can you acknowledge that I have done all three of those things, since we met?”

“I—I guess. But you’re just mimicking my behavior.”

“I’m not, but let’s say you’re right. The Arxur can’t even emulate emotion. Does that not already make humans different from them?”

“I guess.”

“But you said we’re just like them. You can’t have it both ways, Zarn.”

Dawson had a point, actually. The Arxur wouldn’t know what compassion meant if you clubbed them over the head with it. Meanwhile, the human had labeled their actions as cruel, without prompting. That required an understanding of the pain inflicted on our people, as well as comprehension of our moral code. At worst, he had the ability to maintain a civil veneer and logic, which was more than the enemy did.

“Fine. You’re not exactly the same.”

“Alright, we’re getting somewhere. So if you accept that, do you think it’s possible that we differ in other ways as well?”

“Yeah. It’s possible.”

“Okay. I know I look…scary to you, but I’m asking you to give me a chance. Please. Can you do that?”

If I were judging Dawson’s actions, not his appearance, he did seem to be a reasoned creature. These humans at least had basic emotional intelligence and impulse control. I hesitated, then slowly set the gun back on the ground.

Dawson visibly relaxed. “Cool. Can I have my mask back now?”

“Why? I already know what you look like,” I grumbled.

“Because I don’t want to frighten you on accident. Our briefings said you interpret our happy expression as wanting to eat you? Or something like that.”

“Er, show me this expression?”

The human’s lips curled back, revealing the polished fangs caged inside. Dawson looked happy alright…happy to have spotted an easy meal in his field of vision. Saliva glistened on a row of white canines, and his ringed eyes crinkled around the edges. Every instinct in my body screamed to run, and the soft spots on my throat suddenly felt very exposed.

“That w-will take some getting used to,” I stuttered. “But you don’t need to hide your face.”

“Alright. For what it’s worth, Zarn, thank you for saving my life. I hope you can learn to trust me again, in time.”

“We’ll see about that. I have so many questions. For starters, did your society develop through war? Like the Arxur?”

There was a moment of hesitation, as though Dawson was debating what to tell me. The fact that the answer wasn’t an immediate ‘no’ told me there was truth in my assumption.

“As I told you earlier, humans are a tribal species,” he said at last. “And our groups don’t always get along. Many disputes were resolved through warfare, and it did lead to some innovations. But communication, medicine, and agriculture helped us progress more, in my opinion.”

“Why would a supposedly ‘moral’ species be so fractured? So prone to violence?”

“People can be quite stubborn and opinionated. It’s more that we’re always competing with each other, and sometimes, we take it too far. We don’t always think about the consequences. That said, we’ve enjoyed an era of relative peace since the invention of computers. Humans are more interconnected than ever, and it’s helped us to understand each other.”

The response seemed honest, but I shuddered to think what might become of a Federation planet if the humans “took it too far” and regretted it later. By Dawson’s own admission, they were a hypercompetitive and reckless species. Maybe they didn’t delight in violence like the Arxur, but those matter-of-fact words told me they were just as capable of it.

The predator also hadn’t broken eye contact since he woke, which was beginning to grate on my nerves. Instinctually, my brain read this as an assertion of dominance. His gaze was unyielding, as though he was dissecting me limb-by-limb in his mind. What did Dawson think when he looked at me? For all his civility, how could he see anything other than weak, underfed prey?

“Why are you humans really here? What do you want?” I sighed.

“What we want is to help. We’re planning to raid the farms and drive out the Arxur.”

“Let’s say I believe you. You’ll never get close. They see you coming from miles away, and then they gun you down with their heavy artillery. If you try a direct assault, you’re sending men to their deaths.”

“That’s why we want to lure them to us. Candidly, the recon mission was meant to scout out the Federation more than the Arxur. We want to coordinate with you, but I don’t think your COs will work with us directly.”

“Then what’s your play?”

“Well, I was hoping you could serve as an intermediary, Zarn.” Dawson’s lips curved upward, hinting at a snarl. “Just tell your commanders they have new allies who can turn the tide. All we need is for you to advance on the Arxur bases, and our support will get you the rest of the way. As long as they don’t see our faces, your people might agree.”

“Why would I do that? For all I know, you’re trying to get us killed.”

Or worse, I thought. Why did I want to believe Dawson so badly? If I vouched for him, I would be responsible for any misfortune that ensued. Humans possessed the two traits the Arxur seemed to lack: intelligence and patience. We knew nothing about them beyond what they told us. These predators could just be trying to take the Arxur’s catch for themselves, without going through the hassle of rounding us up.

“The Federation is going to lose this planet, and the war, without a miracle. You need us. If we wanted to kill you…frankly, you’re going to die anyways. What have you got to lose?” The human raised an eyebrow at me, as though daring me to contradict him. “You can think about it. But for now, can I ask you something?”

My throat went dry. The predator was here to obtain information, after lulling a naïve soldier into a false sense of security. I hated myself for the pang of betrayal that stabbed through my chest. My instincts had told me the truth. At least now, my suspicions were confirmed, and I could put aside any silly notion of friendship. It was my duty to protect any sensitive information, no matter what methods were used to extort it.

“Ask,” I croaked.

Dawson crawled over to his satchel, and my hand inched back toward the gun. Was he grabbing a weapon? A torture device? It looked like two slender hooks clasped between his fingers, but with a fat end at the top. Maybe it was some sort of shock prong? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.

This was the moment of truth. The human bared his teeth at me, and my stomach somersaulted.

“Want to listen to some music?” he asked.

Next

A/N - The confrontation! Dawson persuades Zarn that he’s already shown he’s no Arxur, then tries to talk him into getting the Federation to accept human help so we can turn the tide. We also see some explanations of human culture, as well as a reluctant acceptance of Dawson’s smile and unfortunate facial features. What do you think about how proto-Zarn took his friend’s explanation and tried to accept him? Do you think intermediary Zarn is a good plan…or one that will work out?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! Let me know if you want to see more of this, these are the 3 chapters I was for sure sharing but I can show the continuation if this is enjoyable!