The Nature of Predators - Sovlin’s Transcript (7/13)

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Memory transcription subject: Anton Kozlov, Human Lawyer

Date [standardized human time]: October 1, 2136

It was difficult to have life on Earth proceed in business-as-usual fashion after we met them; it seeped into every part of the globe’s cycle. This was a case where the sensationalized headlines were somehow less dramatic than the truth. Beyond hating us by virtue of our very appearance, the aliens had actual plans to eradicate us that were pushed aside only because they believed we wiped ourselves out. Humanity was living on borrowed time, and the Marcel Fraser incident had been a taste of what was in store for our future. Unless Noah Williams and Tarva—who we hadn’t heard from in weeks—worked a miracle, we were living out the final days of mankind’s civilization.

Having practiced on the ICC’s List of Counsel for many years, I had friends in the United Nations who suggested that the internal projections were that we wouldn’t last to see the next Halloween. I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for their candor, when they weren’t releasing that to the public for fear of a panic. I had lived a full life, on the down stretch of it now, and couldn’t feel that I’d have too much snatched away from me. It was the new generation, being thrown up to the stars for a hopeless fight for survival, who I pitied. It was difficult to continue my work in international law, writing briefs and trial strategies as if the rule of law mattered now. We couldn’t have anarchy, then again, so I kept up my practice.

Why couldn’t the Federation put us on trial, if they’re so keen to charge us of crimes? Predators are just monsters that don’t deserve to speak in our own defense. How can we ever show them that we’re different than those wicked Arxur?

I knitted my eyebrows together, as I recognized the number of the Office of Public Counsel for defense. Whatever it was they wanted, there was no point in planning any trials months away, since that assumed our society’s continuance. What were they going to do to me anyway, should I choose not to answer? It was all pointless. Then again, I was quite friendly with the UN workers, and this might be the last chance to say goodbye; it’d do some good to speak to another human, instead of just waiting for the end. Maybe they wanted to pretend that life would go on. I heaved a downcast sigh, before swiping to accept the call.

“This is Anton Kozlov speaking,” I said.

“Excellent! We’re glad we could reach you.” The female voice on the other end of the line wasn’t familiar, which I immediately found odd: it was as if the call had been outsourced to someone higher up. I cradled the holopad against my ear, and frowned in confusion. “I’m Dr. Erin Kuemper, with Alien Affairs: don’t hang up! We have a…situation.”

“Alien Affairs?! Why would you be calling me, through the International Criminal Court’s lines, no less?”

“The orders come from the top of the United Nations; we have an unprecedented issue at hand. A Gojid war criminal of…great renown, named Captain Sovlin, has turned himself in. We’ve had contingencies in place, but this is the first time where any Federation citizen is actually in our custody. Sovlin will need proper representation, and Elias Meier himself wanted to see to it that counsel was found.”

I knitted my eyebrows together, unable to believe my ears. “I find it hard to believe the Gojid grew a magical conscience; how he regards us is all over the news. I know that Earth is on the precipice of annihilation, because of that alien outing our existence to the Federation. After everything that Sovlin did, just why do you think that I’d agree to spend my last days defending him?”

“I don’t. I called six lawyers before you, all of whom turned me down in no uncertain terms. Mr. Kozlov, if I may, the situation that humanity is in: that’s exactly why you should take the case. Showing that we can give even Sovlin a fair trial, that the principles of our civilization and law extend to those who have wronged us the most, might be our last chance at giving the Federation pause. If you can convince him to relay how decently we treated him, then…that could save our entire species.”

That caught my attention. “Wait. You really think they’ll do a 180 on mankind just because we kept our cool with one Gojid?”

“I think it’s possible. After all, even the stony captain had a change of heart from seeing our kindness on the cradle. While we don’t think highly of Sovlin, he’s a war hero to all of them; that kind of credibility on our side, after how publicly and viscerally he despised us…it’s a chip to play. We need any of those we can get.”

“Yes, we do. I get what you’re saying, but why me: why even use the ICC? It sounds like you could just wave a magic wand and make this all go away—that’s what you want, from what you’re saying.”

“No, there have to be consequences; we have to do this the right way, by the book. There’s a process. Even if we wanted to, humanity will want justice to be served, and there’d be an uproar if we just forgave him.” 

“I repeat, why me? Let your pretty UN staff coddle him and fight for his freedom, defend the indefensible.”

“It has to be a well-accomplished lawyer who is known to the ICC. Think about your legacy, Mr. Kozlov. I’ll go out on a limb and say you took an interest in law under the belief that everyone deserves a fair trial. And if you need a better reason than just listening to how the Federation talks about predators, well…just look at Sovlin’s file. See why the Arxur gave him textbook PTSD.”

I rested my head in my hands, and thought over what Erin Kuemper had said; she might’ve had a career as a lawyer in another life, with how well she laid out her arguments. Someone had to defend the indefensible, to ensure that the hand of justice fell in equitable fashion among sinners and saints—easier said than done, when the sinner thought our species were abominations that deserved a good ethnic cleansing. Then again, apart from not being human, Sovlin wasn’t even close to the worst war criminal to go in front of the ICC. 

I knew what I signed up for when I chose this profession, even if the aliens had made it all seem foolish. Guilty clients and treating them like any other person: it came with the territory. Assuming that I meant, in the depths of my soul, my earlier rumination pitying the younger generation, I should do the little I could to help avert the impending calamity.

“Send me the files, and tell me where you’re taking him. If I’m Sovlin’s duty counsel, I think I should meet him,” I decided.

Erin laughed on the other end of the line. “Oh, I am not sure he’ll like that, but he’s going to have to toughen up to us fast. I hope that you’re able to find an argument that helps Sovlin’s long-term interests. On behalf of the United Nations, I thank you for your self-sacrifice. Humanity needs people who do what has to be done.”

I drew a shaky breath as the Alien Affairs liaison hung up, and my holopad buzzed with the case files. I needed a minute before I thumbed through them, and jetted off to wherever Sovlin was going to be detained. It hadn’t crossed my wildest imagination that I’d ever be meeting an alien, even if it was one that was so thoroughly detested; these opportunities didn’t come to ordinary humans like me. This kind of otherworldly meeting happened to high-ranking officials and carefully-curated, Federation-palatable Venlil exchange participants. With any other client, I might’ve been excited.

It was my responsibility to curtail my qualms, and do just as Kuemper said: exactly what needed to be done. My interaction with Sovlin might be the very trial for humanity’s life that I’d wished that we’d been afforded. For that reason alone, I was going to muster as much kindness toward the Gojid tormentor as any human could, and mount the best defense that I could conjure up.

Memory transcription subject: Sovlin, Gojid Retiree

Date [standardized human time]: May 8, 2151

Unsurprisingly, Anton Kozlov—my lawyer when I was charged—was living on Earth, according to Sam’s United Nations contacts. He resided close to The Hague, for familiarity’s sake, despite being in his late nineties. He would be the oldest human I’d interacted with. I hadn’t seen Anton since I came to the agreement to enter humanity’s military service, a plea bargain that had been too good to be true. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined the Terrans were bringing me in to advise their own warships, when I surrendered expecting a torturous punishment. Instead, I got to help with retaking the cradle: the lone solace in knowing that I was the reason the Arxur got control of it in the first place.

I’m a very different Gojid than I was back then, and who knows what Anton will think to see me. Being on that warship, among humans entering combat, was petrifying. I remember being shocked seeing Sam eat a banana; I used a food delivery app to send her a banana split as a joke yesterday. I wonder if she understood?

In the days when I was a novice at interacting with humans and living among them on their homeworld, I would’ve never thought to ask how Anton felt about being assigned to my defense. Part of me wondered now why he’d taken the case, and what he’d done after wrapping up mine in tidy fashion. The lawyer had been terrified when I grew angry that the predators weren’t being cruel in response to my misdeeds, and trying to assure me that I could trust the Terrans not to execute Talpin back at the refugee camp. I should see how the deaf Gojid was doing, after this trip down memory lane with Anton; it would keep things chronological.

The thought of humans culling anyone with physically-limiting conditions was laughable now. In my time living in Columbus, I’d seen that accommodations for the disabled were codified into law, going out of their way while the Federation never had tailored their infrastructure to accessibility; it’d been even more noticeable when I fully relied on it myself. Special parking spaces were reserved for those unable to walk long distances, elevators and ramps allowed humans in wheelchairs (and lazy Gojids with walkers) to ascend, and handicapped seating at event venues…all so that we wouldn’t be left out of daily life. The predators did that.

I knocked on the door in the retirement community, and I stood waiting as I heard slow, shuffling footsteps. A man who was rather hunched over, with a wrinkly face, appeared as the door swung inward; the hair was the same white as it’d been the last time we met. He squinted at me for a long moment from behind his glasses, which suggested vision problems. I wished I could go back and tell brainwashed Sovlin about Braille, that it wasn’t just deaf people and sign language that had communication options for them to interpret language which required that missing sense. Anton was not blind, however, and eventually recognized me.

“Look who showed up at my doorstep. Father Time hasn’t been kind to you, Sovlin,” the retired attorney remarked.

I growled in irritation. Glad he’s still mentally sharp. “You walk better than I do, so consider me jealous. Humans get long legs that actually work for a living creature.”

The elderly predator laughed. “Living creature. I didn’t think I’d live this long when I last saw you, you know. I thought I’d be lucky to see one more birthday, since I’m tragically human.”

“‘Tragically human’ describes about all of my friends; it’s a shame. It’s…nice that we can laugh about that. Two old farts just reminiscing on the glory days of the war—that’s what I came here to do, and see how Father Time treated you. Mind if I come in?”

“Please. It seems you’ve acclimated well. I’d be happy to trade stories, especially now that your spines aren’t about to pop out from looking at me.”

“That’s because I don’t have any left,” I lamented. “My quills get shot off by a fucking turret, and my friends just make fun of me for being bald. They should be brought before the International Criminal Court.”

“Well, if they need a lawyer that’s well past their expiration date, give me a call. Now we’ve been standing up long enough; let’s get to my couch before anyone falls. Come on.”

I followed Anton Kozlov with curiosity, ready to get to know him as a person for the first time. Back then, motives were not chief among my concerns for the lawyer who’d defended me. It was a relief to see that he didn’t look down on me, though I had to know why: he’d been aware of the graphic details of what I’d done to Marcel, as much as my family when they read those awful pages of my memory transcript. Anton was someone that I wanted to talk with about what we’d been through then, and what had come next. As the first Terran attorney to defend an alien client, I was curious to learn how establishing that precedent had affected the rest of his career.

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A/N - Part 7! The next face on Sovlin’s memory lane tour is Anton Kozlov, his lawyer; we see the point of view of how the UN asked our attorney to defend the most infamous alien (then) on Earth. We also hear what Meier’s aspirations for turning him into an asset were at the time, hoping that his word might help stave off the worst. Sovlin finds him going strong late into his nineties, and plans to get to know him better without the fear.

What do you think about Kuemper’s arguments in favor of giving Sovlin a defense, as well as what was going through Kozlov’s head? What do you imagine Anton did after being the first human lawyer to represent an alien?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!