The Nature of Predators - Krev Exchange Program (3/7)

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Memory Transcription Subject: Flevi, Krev Opinion Columnist

Date [standardized human time]: March 31, 2160

As opposed to the smaller obors, my exchange partner was so big in person that he looked perfect size to squeeze tightly. Maybe there was some way to get him to accept hugs? I could just tickle his belly with its little button in the middle, or rip off his boots to see those wiggly toes. It wasn’t that I’d missed what Indrek said about taking him seriously, but that his physical presence made that gargantuan hurdle all the more impossible. The last thing I wanted was to ruin this perfect day, with him planning to give a statement for an article and  visiting the obors. I’d sent him to a train station that was a few blocks away from a shelter, and I knew that the locals were going to fall over themselves at the sight of a whiskered, burly human.

“Welcome to Avor,” I told him, clasping my claws together tightly behind my back. “What do you think?”

Indrek looked around at the city of Risliv, with the vaulting Clocktower Arch making a statement on the skyline. “I think this is a place tourists come to. That looks…iconic.”

“It is. Risliv is known as the Romantic’s City. Many people take their love interest to the Clocktower Arch to propose, extending the betrothal branch when the overheard time matches the number of years in their relationship. I guess synchronicity has a strong place in Krev culture, as an omen of good luck. Objective, measurable harmony is very romanticized.”

“Betrothal Branch, not a wedding ring, huh? Why under the Arch specifically?”

Humans put little rings on their cute fingers? Oh my gosh! Keep it together. “Well, Clocktower Arch is old. It’s believed to be the first overhead timekeeping device; before it had those fancy digital displays, it marked time by casting light onto angled mirrors below. At the correct window, it bounces off the glass onto the smaller arch of gemstones which glow with direct UV light. Long story short, it’s an engineering marvel that took the ancient Prevan Empire two hundred years to build!”

“Was this Prevan Empire important?”

“I guess. They’re romanticized in popular culture, and their mythological beasts inspired most of our modern fantasy creatures. They ruled by sending storytellers out to far lands, making bizarre and fanciful claims about their history that had no basis in truth. They conquered by offering ‘protection’ from threats that didn’t exist! They built great things just to awe visiting foreigners, and sell their legends.”

“So they conned people into believing they slayed dragons.”

“More like slayed firefossils—massive skeletons that crawled up from the earth, awoken by the sunlight, and breathed out the sun’s fire. They’re strongest at midday.”

“That sounds similar enough to what I was thinking. But what do firefossils and myth makers have to do with a Romantic’s City? It can’t be just the Arch that earns that name; shit, that history makes it sound like City of Cons is a better fucking name.”

I chuckled. “It’s about the escapism. You stand in the Mirrored Palace, and you lose sight of reality. You stick close to the people you love. It’s the same for the Great Canal, which feeds through a gate that looks like a firefossil’s mouth, or Fountain of Flame. It’s larger than life, and hot as passion.”

“I see.” Indrek’s cheeks had turned rosy, and the flushed skin made them look tantalizingly colorful; I wanted to pinch them so much. “Pray, Flevi, why did you bring me to the Romantic’s City?”

“Oh. Oh, no, it’s not like that.” I pressed my claws over my eyes in embarrassment, peeking between them. “It’s because they have Avor’s largest obor shelter, and I thought you wanted a varied selection. Does the, um, location’s nickname bother you?”

“Not really, as long as that wasn’t what you meant. I don’t feel comfortable as the only human though, with so many aliens everywhere; suffice to say, I don’t trust xenos. You sure these Krev won’t try anything in this City of Cons?”

“They might try to pet you, especially children. I’ll try to keep them away.”

“No, I meant like…kidnap me and make me a fucking pet. No one would ever know.”

“Of course we wouldn’t do that! Though honestly, obors have it made; I wish I had someone pamper me for my whole life, while I sat on my ass.”

“Sounds like you should find a sugar daddy.”

“A what? Sugar father…a bakery parent, who spoils you with cookies?”

Indrek snickered. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.” 

“I don’t get what’s so funny. I think we should head to the shelter, before I figure out what obor enterprise you’re giggling about.”

“Fine by me, Flevi. I can’t wait to have an attack monkey to deal with my enemies.”

“Wait, what?”

The human grinned at me, offering a hand gesture that seemed to say, “Lead the way.” I prowled ahead with confidence, though I noticed every Krev gawking at the sapient primate—the telltale longing to scoop Indrek up in their claws. A few passersby snapped photographs of the gruff miner, which the selfish part of my brain realized would validate my story of talking with a Terran, once they got to social media. I forced my thoughts to shift to how he’d said he was uncomfortable being surrounded by aliens, and didn’t trust them not to turn him into a pet without any autonomy. This wasn’t a pleasant experience for him. Indrek, despite being stockier and a [foot] taller than me, strayed closer to me on instinct.

I can’t let anyone intrude on his space; I have to protect the scared, adorable primate. He’s doing a little fear grimace, trying to fake a smile. Humans always look so nervous, like they’re about to bite, with their lips curved up!

“It’s okay, Indrek,” I offered.

The human snorted, pretending to look insulted. “I didn’t say a word.”

“You don’t have to. Can’t make them stop staring, but you can give them something to stare at. Walk with a little pizazz! Strut like you’re a model at a beauty competition.”

Indrek laughed, surprised by what I’d just said. “Krev have models? I guess humans aren’t the only ones with a bit of vanity. I’ll strut like a model after you. You first, Flevi.”

I stood awkwardly for a moment, before raising an arm up and waving my claws in the air. Leaning fully into the fact that I had no clue what I was doing, I threw in some sassy head snaps, tail lashes, and swaying steps. The human doubled over and howled, all social shame thrown to the wind. There were now even more Krev filming his reddened cheeks and full teeth display; it wasn’t fair that his species had no fur, so we could see their skin change colors! Indrek was laughing so hard that tears were flowing from his eyes. I turned and did a 180, sauntering over to the flushed primate. Having fulfilled his request to demonstrate first, I gestured with a paw toward the cobblestone road in front of me.

“Your turn,” I told him, giving him a light shove ahead of me. “You said you’d strut after I did.”

Indrek wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. “What? That was drunk girl at a party, not model, Flevi!”

“Oh, so you’re the expert on modeling, huh?”

“I never claimed—”

“How do you know what a drunk girl at a party looks like?” I noticed the human’s smile falter, and scrambled to save the question. The last thing I wanted was to remind him the ark settlers hadn’t had a sliver of happiness or normalcy. “Is that what your mining strikes are like? I’d look at you very differently.”

“If you’d look at me differently, without those melty eyes, I should say yes. But I’m afraid it’s much more of walking out together and refusing to go back in. If that’s all humans will ever do with our lives, is there even a point to our species surviving?”

“But it’s not all you’ll ever do. You’re going to give me your ‘drunk girl at a party’ imitation. I’m not letting you out of this.”

Indrek made a pouty face at me, which stabbed at my heart like a flaming knife. It was almost physically painful to see the human’s lip wobbling, and his big eyes staring up at me. I was tempted to posture like I was going to spray him for attempting that manipulation, but I knew he wouldn’t understand what that was. I’d have to explain the ultimate form of disrespect, which was spraying anyone with the stink glands on our tail. Perhaps I should ask what his people’s closest equivalent to this was, since I’d only seen the folded arms and volatile verbal explosions. The sound of a chorus of aws from the watching Krev, as my exchange partner pretended to sniffle, brought me to scold him.

Does Indrek really think he can manipulate me? I can’t let him see that the baby obor eyes work; they are so big, just like our little pet primates…

Indrek clasped his hands together, seeming to beg. “Flevi, don’t do this to me.”

“Stop that!” I chastised the primate. “You look like an obor begging for table scraps.”

That snapped the human out of his routine. “They beg? Couldn’t they just…climb, or reach up to the table and grab it?”

“There’s a reason obor owners have tall stools and high tops. You’ll learn, with your new pet. I’m not taking you there, if you don’t come through on your end of the bargain. Don’t curl up into a ball. Are you scared of letting yourself go a little?”

Indrek huffed. “I’m not scared of walking like an idiot. Why would I…this is just a stupid idea. I don’t want to lower myself, with…”

“Everyone filming? It might get back to your buddies who think you’re all grim and serious?” I scowled at the primate, pinning my ears back. “‘Rrr, I’m Indrek. I’m going to stomp around and look mean, and war with the whole universe. We will not be friends; actually, I despise you. Dancing in the Avor streets is beneath a warlord like me. Have to learn about the enemy…’”

“I do not fucking sound like that! Don’t mock me.”

“‘Don’t mock me,’” I retorted, in the lowest growl I could muster.

“Oh, so you want me to impersonate you?” The human pressed the back of his palm to his hand, as if swooning, then spoke in the highest-pitched falsetto voice he could muster. “‘I’m Flevi. Humans should die, like suvrels, and yay to that!! Oh, wait, they’re cutie pies; I’m sowwy. I know you’re naturally violent and warlike, so everything you do is about that and that’s just science! I’m not judging you at all!’”

I should spray him. “That’s not how I talk. Quit stalling and distracting, or I’m going to blast stink gland chemicals right in your face. It won’t go away for days.”

“Wait, you can do that? Shit dude. That might help keep the Krev away.” Indrek raised his hands, as I lifted my tail at him. “Fine, fine. I just don’t want people to think I’m too cozy with xenos, that’s all. I’m not distancing myself from you enough.”

“I can distance myself from you and leave you all by your lonesome, if you want.”

“No, you can stay. I’m…tolerating your presence, for now.”

“Dance. Dance. Dance.” I waved at the growing crowd, who caught onto the idea of chanting along. “Drunk girl Indrek. Drunk girl Indrek!”

“Alright, alright, just stop your shouting! If you like trying to emasculate grown men that much…”

Gritting his teeth, the human threw his head back and jumped around while flailing his arms. The tall boots hugging up to his pinchable calves must have been loose, because one slipped off his foot and made him stumble. Indrek’s routine last for a mere second, before he returned to scowling after me with closed body language. The following crowd cheered at his performance, which only seemed to infuriate him more. I chuckled at him, marching over to pick up his shoe and hold onto it as a prize. I yelped as he stepped on my tail, with his bare foot, but it seemed to injure the primate more than me; he spewed a series of curses, holding his flat, ticklable paw in his hand. Serious pain spread across his face, and I rushed to his side with worry.

Indrek isn’t actually hurt, is he? I don’t like seeing him in pain. I don’t think he realized his tough Krev scales are, compared to how delicate his soft skin is.

“Gah, that’s like stepping on fucking LEGOs. That hurts!” the primate bellowed. “Why wouldn’t you warn me, Flevi? What is wrong with you?”

I scoffed. “You slammed your foot on me. I was supposed to know you were going to do that?”

“Yes! You should’ve predicted I’d do that, what with how violent humans are.”

“I’m confused. You wanted me to treat you like a person, and now you want me to expect you to attack me?”

“Gah. Twisting my words—fucking xenos.” He snatched his boot away from me with surprisingly quick reflexes, reinserted his foot, and hobbled forward with a heart-melting limp. Wounded primates had no right to be so gut-wrenchingly innocent; I wanted to protect him, and nurse the boo-boo. “That was not attacking you. That was playful!”

“Whatever you say, Indrek. What’s a LEGO?”

“It’s a little toy block that attaches together with other ones to build places, objects, and creatures. I snuck my kit into my bag when we…left Earth. It was the only thing I had of my old life, but I haven’t touched that in a long time. Off to the mines, and no more stepping on a blasted block in the middle of the night.”

“That’s so precious.” The thought of child Indrek using his grubby hands to piece blocks together, so creative and bright-eyed, was almost enough to break my composure. “Maybe we could mess around with that together?”

“It’s for children!”

“So?”

“So I’ve matured past that. I’ve outgrown it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Be as dismissive as you want, but I have serious concerns in my life; my whole species does. Infantilizing me, trying to say I should stick with childhood interests instead of finding proper outlets: not cool.”

“I was saying there’s nothing wrong with doing stuff that’s for kids.” I watched my words carefully, not wanting Indrek to get too worked up. We were only a block away from the sprawling obor shelter, and I didn’t want his explosive behavior to rub off on all of the pets. Obors would respond to another primate screaming or making angry gestures. “But it was just a suggestion. Tell me what you want to be your outlet. If you could’ve been anything back on Earth, what would you have done?”

Indrek spent a full minute thinking, as if it was something he’d never even considered as an option. That silence was heartbreaking. The human had no idea what to do with himself, now the mines weren’t his lot in life. He’d given up on whatever dreams he might’ve had as a young child. The primate hadn’t seen any bright future, any hope, in his reality, and hadn’t found a point in fixating on what he could never have. I had no idea what his interests or passions might’ve been, but he didn’t either. Maybe I could help him try all sorts of things, especially since I could bill adventures to the exchange program, and figure out what he enjoyed. There had to be some way I could give him that answer.

I don’t want Indrek to feel bad about not knowing, or worse, be stuck thinking about the functional society they lost back on Earth. Maybe I should tell him he doesn’t have to respond.

“If I could be anything at all, I’d like to be a movie star. Rich. Famous. My rugged attractiveness universally recognized by all of humanity,” he replied.

I recoiled in surprise. “You, a celebrity? I thought you hated the cameras. You don’t strike me as the acting type either.”

“I’m not, but action flicks would be fun! No real acting needed, just beating stuff up like a badass. As for the cameras—if you paid me that much, and I had a fucking mansion in the Hollywood hills, they could stare all they want. A glamorous life after the Tellus shithole, that’s paradise to me.” 

“You know what? I lived in the woods as a kid. Whatever these mansion-packed hills on Earth were, that sounds like paradise to me too.”

I drew to a halt outside the obor shelter, and watched a limping Indrek try to hide his relief that we’d made it here; walking wasn’t his favorite activity, after his failed tail stomp backfired. There was no telling how the obors would react to a big, sapient primate from another world, especially if my exchange partner was serious about trying to adopt one that was already of volatile temperament. For what it was worth, I hoped the pairing went well. Despite being a terrible idea, it would be too adorable to see the burly human carrying another primate around.

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A/N - Chapter 3! Flevi takes Indrek to the Romantic’s City, where Avor’s largest obor shelter is, and explains a bit about the landmarks and ancient Krev empires that conquered by inventing monsters to slay. The duo lightens up a bit, with both impersonating the other and the human hinting that he wants a personal attack monkey; Flevi tries to get him to ignore the stares by strutting about like a fool, and Indrek learns Krev scales are a lot harder than he previously thought. 

What do you think about the new bits of Krev lore we learned here, and how the shelter visit will go? How do you feel about Flevi and Indrek’s interactions in this chapter?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!