The Nature of Predators - Sovlin’s Transcript (6/13)

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Memory transcription subject: Rumi, Gojid Refugee

Date [standardized human time]: December 16, 2136

Getting in touch with a human proved easier said than done with how few species wanted to take in Gojid refugees. The Terrans had tried, but I missed the boat, since they weren’t able to care for us with their world burning. The Federation hadn’t bailed us out, and Venlil Prime, the easiest choice to locate predators on a prey world, couldn’t take us in with all of the primate refugees after the attack on Earth. The Mazics were persuaded to help us, in exchange for the debt they owed to the hunters for saving Khoa; it seemed many civilized herbivores owed mankind their lives, though that fact was often overlooked.

It was too late for talking with the humans to bring peace, so I wondered what good it would do. My thanks would mean very little, and in all likelihood, I’ll become another petrified creature that they have to coddle beneath their eyes.

The galaxy had changed in so many ways since our first encounter with the simians, and the omnivore reveal had renewed my determination to connect with them. My species’ military had disbanded, since almost every ship but ours was destroyed against the Arxur raid; Gojids were a shattered species, after finding out how horrid our own roots were. For all of our vengeful hatred against the humans, we were exactly like them in our original diet. That was proof to me that not all meat-eaters could be mindless, blood-driven savages. 

So I’d gone to Mazic space, knowing there had to be humans there since they were allies. With that said, I didn’t want to walk into the Terran embassy on Khoa where they had to put on a harmless exterior. I found a job listing for communicating with Mazic authorities on behalf of the United Nations, from a planetary colony they were building with President Cupo’s blessing. The predators wanted a prey species to take the role and handle the direct interaction, since locals were frightened of them. The posting had gone unanswered for quite awhile, since no one wanted to live on a world that humans were taking over and beginning their expansion on.

“I must be a little mad to go and interview for this,” I mumbled to myself; I was unsure I actually wanted the position, but I didn’t have any money to my name or work prospects. It was in my field, yet it wouldn’t be anything like my military work. “It won’t be like Captain Sovlin, where I could challenge him and he’d willingly counter my arguments. Humans won’t keep up the docile facade all day on their turf, and I might be the only non-predator there.”

Did I want to speak with the Terrans and understand why they pitied us, rather than craving suffering like the Arxur? I thought about their fearlessness as they saved Gojid children on the cradle, the terrifying passion in those binocular eyes. They were protectors, much in the sense that the true Great Protector had likely been, but they might be a bit too feral to be true friends. All in all, any creature that was capable of caring for us and extended a peaceful appendage should get a chance. Nobody had run to help them with a simple task like forwarding messages, just so Mazics wouldn’t panic. After what they’d done for us, I had to take this position.

“This is Liberty’s Bastion,” the nervous Mazic pilot said, from the front of the bulky shuttle. “Hurry up. I’d like to get off the ground, before those things get any closer to my ship.”

I trudged out onto the landing pad, and noticed how the ship wasted no time lifting safely back into orbit. Were prey that interacted with humans that afraid of them?! My peripheral vision took in the hab modules and in-progress construction that formed a small settlement, not dissimilar from anything we would build. There were hundreds of hunter laborers scattered across this area, shipping construction materials and painting structures. While a few dockworkers were looking at me, no one had come to greet me or direct me where to go. I’d have to approach them and ask.

It was harmless among normal people to pose a question about where to go, right? It was expected from someone new who had no clue where to go. Humans should be…understanding. Accepting that a) I was trapped with no way off-world, and b) freaking out would not help or accomplish what I’d sought to in any way, I tried to steel my nerves. I saw a group of Terrans sitting at a picnic table in a shaded area, eating triangle-shaped sandwiches. My spines bristled and my blood felt like lighter fluid, but I remembered that Sovlin had gone to their homeworld as a hated figure. Despite everything, he’d gone with them to confront Nikonus.

This was just a conversation with…other omnivores minding their own business. I was going to do this. My paws stormed over to the table before I could change my mind, and I cleared my throat for their attention. The humans gawked at me with eyes that were incomprehensible horrors: pupils so darkened and focused that they looked dead, and uncolored sclera that made it feel like the eyeballs themselves would lunge at me. They were overtly staring, as if my incursion was shocking and unexpected. I could hear the sounds of them chewing and see the movements of their jaw muscles, while they crushed their food into mush. The pink slabs tucked between the bread were made from carcasses.

“Why hello. You might not want to be here,” a predator ventured, dusting the crumbs off of his stubby chin with a napkin—such a civilized gesture in comparison to what he’d just swallowed. “We weren’t expecting company, so we don’t have masks now.”

My body went stiff as a board. I was cold despite standing out in the hot sun, and seeing the sweat soaking their reddened skin. I focused on what I remembered of the radio chatter, and the humans being the only thing that stopped the entire cradle from having its populace devoured by the Arxur. If they resisted all of that blood, then surely they could handle me while they already had another food source in their hands.

“I’m Rumi,” I offered, forcing myself not to shy away. “I’m here for an interview with Terra Technologies for the communication specialist position.”

The man’s lips curved upward in that menacing fashion Terrans were known for. “Ah yes, I was actually supposed to oversee your interview. I’m Jake. Your credentials looked stalwart—almost too good to be true—and aside from the bristling quills, you hardly seem bashful. Most of your…contemporaries are concerned about being around us when we’re eating.”

“That’s the time they should be least afraid, since you already have another meal.” Surprisingly tame and well-spoken, even when outright succumbing to his…appetite. “I saw what you did on the cradle. I saw that you wanted to help us before that, but the Federation wouldn’t listen. I tried to convince them to talk to you…”

Jake leaned forward with intrigue, and he scooted over on the bench. “Please, join us. We’d love to hear the story of literally anyone other than Tarva who’d want to give us a chance.”

I settled in next to the human, as he scarfed down the last of his sandwich and washed it down; I wasn’t sure if he was ravenous, or finishing it quickly for my sake. Hesitancy lingered in my mind at the idea of telling them that I’d been on Sovlin’s ship, even though I had protested the captain’s actions. The predators could check my service record though, and perhaps already planned to do so. There were a lot of them congregated at this table. While I noticed that their postures were relaxed and weary, seated with no intent of getting up, they could change in an instant. I had no idea how to actually have a conversation with humans!

“My captain was very outspoken against predators: he demanded your extinction, prodded Piri to war, and wanted the prisoner—Marcel—to suffer. He thought you were irredeemable, cruel people, and implored us to protect our colony over our military assets when you attacked our border outposts,” I commented, finding my voice surprisingly level. “You couldn’t resist slaughtering unguarded civilians, didn’t you know that?”

Jake’s expression soured. “What did you think?”

“I overheard your radio chatter, and the humans didn’t seem to…want to attack us at all. You felt like you had to do it, because we would kill your cities without thinking—and you were right. I am so sorry for that. Anyhow, I challenged the captain on the bridge, begged him to open a channel. He said the Federation would’ve seen something worth saving if you weren’t irredeemable, and that if I was so hellbent on talking to predators, to go fly a shuttle to you and chitchat. Well, um, here I am, doing that now.”

“You’re handling yourself very well. I take it you didn’t fly a shuttle back then?”

“No. It seemed…suicidal.”

“Hm, that’s alright. Cheers to you for speaking up for us. Whole galaxy thinks we’re right monsters with no saving grace. Too far on the predator end for Nikonus to fix, yeah?”

I winced, finding myself falling into comfortable patter with the beast. “Sore subject. Everything we ever knew was a lie, and we’re the worst things in the natural world ourselves. You can imagine a lot of people aren’t handling that news well. I’m…compartmentalizing, if you’re familiar with the concept.”

“Compartmentalizing? You and me both, brother.” Weariness flashed on Jake’s face along with the glow of his pearly white teeth, giving me a view of the food stuck to his daunting canines. I didn’t know how to feel about a predator calling me his sibling in a jovial manner, or claiming to be doing the same balancing act with his emotions. “Well, Terra Technologies hasn’t had an easy go hiring, and you haven’t wigged out at us feasting, so I’m ready to sign you on. That good with you?”

“Yeah, I think so, but I need to know what I’m doing, and whether I’ll have…accommodations.”

“Just hit up the locals and play messenger, nothing hard. We learned what Gojids need from the refugees, and yes, I know you’re politely asking about food. You’ll be handsomely compensated for the trouble, and TTHQ will want to ensure you have a good experience; you’re their first ET hire. They have big ambitions.”

My heart dropped a bit, hearing those words. “Uh, what do you mean? This colony is…only the start?”

“Quite certainly; this place was just contracted out for us to build by the UN. After everything that happened, the top robotics and AI companies on Earth merged to unite for…you know, the common good. ‘A global presence on an interplanetary stage,’ that’s the motto. Those little translator implants have given us a door into the mind, Rumi.”

A lightbulb flicked on in my brain, and despite which species was saying the words, it made me rather giddy. “You’re researching neural interfaces! I wrote my thesis on the potential of machines interpreting active cognition.”

The human wagged a finger with excitement. “It might even allow you to mechanically recreate a human—uh, or Gojid—being. Digital immortality, Rumi; we won’t even need these fucking buildings. Or the predatory sandwiches. Our colonies will be within the silicon we all carry around.”

“That’s crazy talk…and I love it.”

“In that case, if your stint here goes well for a few months, we might have a long-term job for you on Earth. We have an eye for forward-thinking individuals: visionaries.”

That prospect had escalated quickly, and should have been an idea that I rejected on the spot, yet a part of me hummed with excitement; if the humans had the drive and could get funding for such an idea, that sounded much more exciting than handling a few calls. I was well-qualified but young, so I wasn’t going to get an offer like that elsewhere. Terrans were a species that couldn’t be selective, and also perhaps the only ones not locked into the traditional mindsets enforced by the Federation. All the same, could I live on a homeworld where predation was baked into every building block of their society?

“I can’t decide something like that on the spot. Let me see how I ease into living around humans here first,” I responded.

Jake leaned back. “You’ll find we’re not half as scary as the Federation imagined.”

Remembering what Captain Sovlin had spouted on the bridge, I thought the predator was quite right. The Terrans’ intentions seemed to be set much higher than mere cruelty and debauchery.

Memory transcription subject: Sovlin, Gojid Retiree

Date [standardized human time]: May 6, 2151

I found it difficult to concentrate as I saw Rumi gnawing the flesh straight off a chicken drumstick, not thinking anything of the skeletal piece that was printed below that; it resembled what was beneath an animal’s skin, and this Gojid didn’t care at all! I’d never been able to get past the hurdle of knowing what meat was, but this Terra Technologies employee had no such issues. Was the devouring of carcasses really so rapturous that all restraint was thrown to the wind? I didn’t know how to let go of the apprehension that it might poison my mind and seed diabolical thoughts, even if I accepted the humans’ nasty lifestyle. 

“That’s how I first got in touch with humans!” Rumi retrieved his holopad, where the pages of his transcript were pulled up. He didn’t appear to have any reservations about sharing those private details, even embarrassing ones. “I loved their nerd culture, and never looked back. The scientists on Libastion were so clever and introspective, it blew me away. I would’ve never thought a ‘predator’ could have so many insightful things to say.”

I picked at my basket of fries timidly, ignoring the chicken bucket Tyler and Rumi were sharing. “So just like that, you moved to Earth?”

“It was scary at first: a lot more humans than just Jake and the handful of guys in the Space Traffic Control tower. I knew I wanted to be a part of this. It’s hard for some people to just pack up everything, to risk all prospects on a chance to try at something meaningful. I had lost all that could be imagined and my prospects were zero. That was my one shot.”

Rumi passed me back a selected passage of his transcripts after his first day, musing on working in an office full of binocular-eyed beasts. I took the holopad and read the words quietly to myself.

The creatures were most often lost in their own heads, in the mundane and ordinary tasks set before them. The silence squished in the elevator, when I felt like I was suffocating, yet no one acknowledged each other’s presence; many of their piercing stares were tired and disinterested, hiding behind their holopads. They sat idly scrolling on their breaks, aside from the occasional chatterbox that’d pass by with a loud (but not sinister) phone conversation. It was even more difficult to be afraid in an afternoon meeting, as their prattling on and grandstanding over menial tasks lulled me into a sleepy trance.

Humans were just making it through the day and waiting to go home. There wasn’t any aptitude for violence or unfriendliness; it began not to matter that they surrounded me, and walked around to visit their coffeepots. I studied silly trinkets and photographs that personalized their workspaces; the lazing beasts only seemed to perk up out of curiosity over me, otherwise showing little aptitude to do much of anything. I was invested in my research, though I likely had a more stimulating task than some filling in cubicles. 

The Terrans solicited feedback through impersonal emails, with my team’s manager checking in every now and then—not in the intimidating way I’d expect from a predator leader. This was no ferocious nightmare from The Exterminators, but rather a quiet routine to earn one’s keep. In my estimation, the inflammatory thoughts that prey believed went through a human’s head were nonexistent in reality.

I bit my lip, finding it hard to believe what I once thought went through those ugly skulls. “I’m glad you weren’t held back, Rumi. You were…a lot brighter than me. I hurt my crew by not listening to you; I’m the reason you had nothing. It’s kind of you to act happy to see me, but I don’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

“At the time, I thought you made good points. I know you believed you were doing what was best, and you did listen; you just didn’t agree. Most captains wouldn’t have even done the first. Let’s not dwell on the past—only the future. That’s what Terra Technologies stands for.”

Tyler squinted his eyes. “Dude, back up to that Libastion shit. What was Jake telling you about digital immortality? Sounds like the transcripts aren’t the full deal.”

“It’s…an idea to replicate the mind’s processes. It’s proven immensely complex, but we’re going to keep working on it. Humanity’s ultimate war is with death—so far, an undefeated enemy. You’re stubborn though; my money’s on you, persistence predators.”

I flicked my claws in agreement. “Look what they’ve accomplished in such a short timespan, since finding the wider galaxy. If anyone can do it, it’ll be humanity. There’s no mountain too high.”

After seeing that Rumi had wound up working alongside humanity on a groundbreaking project, and learning that he didn’t hold a grudge against me, it was like a great weight had been lifted off my chest. Perhaps this was a sign that it’d be worthwhile to connect with others from my past, and find closure on what became of them. Whatever the case, I wished Terra Technologies the best of luck on what they were trying to spin these new-fangled memory transcripts into—even humans would need it. I wasn’t the visionary they were looking for, but it intrigued me to see the scope of the primates’ imagination.

It was humanity’s drive to transcend their own limitations that made them singular, and even in the most fantastical of aspirations, this old Gojid knew better than to bet against them.

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A/N - Part 6! We hear Rumi’s story about where he went with the Gojid military collapsing, looking courageously into a Terra Technologies job posting on Libastion, away from other prey; he even approaches a picnic table of humans eating meat on his first time meeting a predator, which impresses Jake. Rumi is intrigued to learn of the ambitions to achieve digital immortality, springboarding off of the advances in neural science from the translators. We then see in the present that he’s far from being afraid of sandwiches, after minding humans to be rather mundane.

Do you think the catharsis of learning what happened to Rumi will be good for Sovlin and his lingering guilt? What do you think of the surprising courage from a Fed-brained individual? Who else do you think Sovlin should catch up with?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!