The Nature of Predators 2-12

Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: March 16, 2160

It turned out for the best that a security guard broadcasted our conversation with Gress to the colony; dozens of citizens overheard his outburst leveled at the Federation. There were still a few shocked expressions, even people cowering or instinctively turning their faces away, as we led the Krev rent collector out into the common area. His eyes scanned the city, marveling at the sights and sounds. I felt strange being pushed by Cherise in a wheelchair, and even stranger to see an alien so unfazed, surrounded by primates. The green scales on his tail reflected the artificial lighting, as he cautiously approached a roaming child.

“Hi!” Gress whispered, kneeling with soft eyes. “Look at you, running around, little girl.”

The kid stopped with a puzzled expression. “Mom says you would kill us if you saw our faces. Are you gonna kill us?”

“No. Parents are wrong sometimes. I…really like your faces, for what it’s worth.”

“You do? Thanks! I didn’t realize you were that big and scaly, but I like yours too. Can I touch your scales?”

“Maybe another time. Why don’t you go tell your mother, and anyone else willing to listen, that the Krev have no issue with your species? It’d be super helpful of you.”

“Okay! Bye Mr. Alien.”

The Krev chuckled to himself, as the young girl ran off. Mayor Hathaway studied him for several moments, as did I; for someone who’d only ever been rude in our interactions, Gress definitely could flip on a fatherly aura around children. I found myself feeling a lot more partial to him getting home to his daughter, Lecca. It never occurred to me that an alien species would see us for who we were, and want us to stay. My rash actions had somehow saved our home, assuming the rent collector was being straightforward with his promise to let us stick around. Their past deeds were a clever scheme, in hindsight, to force us out without violence through the constant demands.

If they hate the Federation like we do, I’m surprised they let us stick around at all. Wouldn’t they be worried, driving us out, that we’d report on the Consortium’s existence to those prey snots? I supposed if we missed a presumed check-in, or the Krev imagined a Federation party might come after us to check on us, it’d worsen the situation.

“You poor things. What did the Federation do to you?” Gress turned toward me, as if he wanted to hear it from my lips for some reason. He continued to tail the mayor, who was leading us to the nearest memory vault. “I can imagine how they treated you, but it sounds like it was…the unthinkable.”

I bowed my head in sorrow. “Gress, they wanted to kill us. As far as we know, they murdered the ten billion people on Earth: bombed them from space with zero remorse. We pleaded with them, bartered and begged until we were blue in the face: and it didn’t matter. Not one of their near three hundred members saw us as anything but monsters. When our ship left, they were marching an extermination fleet down on our homeworld. What you see in front of you, and the humble shops in that cavern…it’s all we have left of humanity.”

“We have videos and music. Images of our cities. Little pieces of that history Taylor described,” Cherise added. “Every species couldn’t bear the sight of us. So we swore never to show our faces again, and give aliens the incentive to slaughter us.”

The Krev’s eyes watered, as he swiped up on a hologram of Earth. “That’s awful. I am so unspeakably sorry. I had no idea. If your world had been in our space…I know it’s zero consolation, but it would’ve been different. I’m grateful you’ve decided to trust me to see what you once were.”

“We all work toward the colony. There’s not much room for expression or experimentation,” I sighed. “I feel as though I want something so much more, then feel guilty for wanting that shit.”

“You can have more, from here on out. With your permission, I’m going to bring this atrocity to the Consortium’s attention. The Krev can help you, friends; your refugees would even be welcome, if any of you wished to integrate with our society, on our homeworld, Avor. I understand you might not want any people leaving, with preserving your species in mind. We can help restore your numbers, build up this world, and provide you with anything you need. You won’t have to worry for a thing; you can express yourselves to your heart’s content!”

Mayor Hathaway narrowed his eyes. “With respect, how do you know that your people will go along with this?”

“Because I know they’ll love you! Even if you were a different species than primates, we’ll protect anyone who wants to avoid the Federation.”

“You say that like it’s a known fact. Does that imply that you’ve taken steps to help other species before?” I questioned.

“That’s…complicated, Taylor. The Consortium is committing to stopping any of our races from being found. I’ll say that, hearing what they did to you innocent humans—on the basis of your eyes and presumably, if you’re like our obors, your diet—I know we made the right decision with the Jaslips.”

“Jaslips? What decision? I want to know what exactly that means.”

“There are six species that are a part of our association, with the Jaslips being one. It means that we prevented the Federation from finding them. It was controversial at the time, but your story proves that it was a necessary evil. Why don’t I tell you the rest later, when I go over each of our allied species that you’ll meet?”

“Fine,” the mayor chimed in, cutting off my protests. “I’d like to hear this story, Gress. But you can take us to the obor first.”

The Krev rent collector’s features showed visible relief, as though he’d bought himself time to avoid an unpleasant subject. “Gladly. Can’t be that far, I assume?”

My mind was racing, weighing what Gress might mean by a controversial decision made to prevent the Federation from finding another species. “Necessary evil” wasn’t phraseology that my ears liked to hear. If after all of the leaps and bounds we’d made with these aliens, it turned out they’d killed them to stop the herbivores from finding them, that…well, our little colony on Tellus was fucked over by their protection. I couldn’t bear having to reckon with another genocidal alien group lording over us. Perhaps our experiences with the Federation had made us a bit too paranoid over xeno intentions; this Krev seemed like a normal guy.

Gress seems genuinely distraught over what happened to Earth, so it’s a stretch to assume he’d let us die. They let us land here because they didn’t want blood on their paws. He said it would’ve been different if Earth was in their territory.

“What are you looking at?” I cleared my throat, as I noticed the Krev pacing around me like I was a zoo exhibit to view from every angle. Gress tugged at my sleeve in response. “Ah. I see. I probably should explain one thing, before we have another misunderstanding. Our…body attire is something we legitimately wear, even among ourselves. You can see that we have negligible fur, and just, er, bare skin.”

“It’s considered highly…improper for us not to wear concealing attire in most situations, because of our unique biology,” Cherise chimed in.

“Yeah, we are genuinely a private culture; this isn’t about not trusting you. Check our relics from Earth and you’ll see it’s ubiquitous across our daily lives.”

Gress stepped away, trying to keep his paws to himself. “Noted. I was simply curious if they had some sort of special meaning, or if they doubled as armor.”

“It means warmth. Not getting sunburned. Not signaling less-than-public intentions. If you check our films, there’s a particular scenario where you’ll see us without garments. I’m not a bashful person, but I hope you won’t make me spell it out.”

“Less-than…oh. It’s part of your…no, I understand. Ahem. Uh…so who wants to feed Juvre? I’ve got a nice bag of dried insects for him in the kitchen. You can, uh, hold him, if you want? Very nice obor…and it’s an elevator! We’ll be at the ship soon! Time for a tour.”

Gress is easily embarrassed. That’s good to know. I’m glad he didn’t decide to keep playing twenty questions, for what it’s worth.

The four of us crowded into the elevator, as Mayor Hathaway gestured toward the metro tunnel—commenting that the drill accident site, and the mines were past that transit line. That brought back images I was trying to force out of my head, of the accident I’d caused and how Kabir was dead now because of that. I needed a more uplifting focus. My face turned skyward, waiting for the long-anticipated feeling of rays of natural warmth striking my skin. The ascent brought me new energy, as my antsy feet kicked against the supports of my wheelchair. When the doors swung open, I was ready to taste the outdoors on my lips, and to feel the sand between my toes. I bared my fangs in one of those toothy grins that the Federation thought were so ferocious, and slid off my boots with laughter.

Gress watched as, off-balance, I stomped around; curling my toes in the grainy earth, and pulling up clumps of it with my feet. Cherise hesitated, before crouching down, grabbing a handful of the sand; she let it slip between her fingers, without any gloves between her palm and the dirt. I whooped and hollered with delight, hearing the thunder of my voice echo into the distance. Several farmers and technicians who were out of the loop were gawking at us, masks pointed at us directly. My dizzy head caused me to stumble onto my knees, and like a madman, I kissed the coarse dirt against my lips. I felt alive. The Krev watched with a strange emotion in his eyes, before placing a paw on my back.

“You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be outside,” Gress guessed. “No wonder you don’t feel like you’re fully alive. It’s cruel to keep any primates penned in a small area for long.”

I dusted myself off, plopping back in the chair. “It feels…real. I want to run to the horizon; climb a mountain!”

“When you heal up, you can.”

The Krev waited for Cherise to drift back behind my wheelchair, before leading the way to the landing pad. With how quickly the alien tried to scurry off in the past, I hadn’t thought he would ever invite us to its interior. Gress paused by an entry airlock, opening it via a scale scan of his tail. The barrier zipped ajar with mechanical rapidity, and the rent collector stepped over the threshold. I admired the minimalist nature of the hallway to the cockpit; luxuries and supplies were kept exclusively to the wings, while the cargo bay was used to transport large shipments. There was no sign of a pet primate, though Gress was calling Juvre’s name. I wondered which variant the obors would be like: nothing too uncanny and violent like chimpanzees, I hoped.

The Krev seemed to take a scurrying noise to his left as a sign of Juvre’s presence, jogging into what appeared to be a kitchen. My eyes saw movement near the low ceilings, as a hairy creature with light auburn fur was scampering down from the cabinets. The obor couldn’t have been more than two feet tall, with a slender tail, a sunken nose on his pinkish face, and beady, binocular eyes. There had been no trickery to get back to the ship, like the cynical part of me suspected in the back of my mind. Gress truly had a pet primate; I supposed he couldn’t have faked the look that he wanted to smother us with love. I watched as the creature stared at us from the countertop, and his lips curved up in a happy smile.

Aw! Juvre recognizes us as primates. He likes us! Gress said I could hold him; that is too adorable. It makes me wish we still had our own pets, like we did on Earth.

I rose from my wheelchair, opening my arms and returning my own happy grin. “Come here—”

Juvre shrieked, lunging at me and latching onto my face. With an obor attached to my skull, I stumbled backward, and tried to pry him off with my hands. What the fuck was wrong with this thing; it’d been friendly moments before! Gress’ plan couldn’t have been for his pet to attack us, and take us out—he should’ve warned us if this was a junkyard obor. I yelped, as I crashed back into my wheelchair. My fall was awkward, while Cherise and the mayor tried to help me remove the stubborn fiend attached to me like sticky glue. The Krev gasped with what seemed to be alarm, throwing his own body forward.

“No, humans! Don’t hurt him,” Gress pleaded. “Juvre, NO! Bad obor! Come!”

The scaly mammal lunged forward, yanking at the obor’s tail; Juvre yelped, and relinquished his stranglehold on my head. Gress swooped him away from me, seeming to soothe his pet as though that terror was the victim. I grimaced, as Cherise helped me back into my wheelchair. Now that I didn’t have a living creature stapled to my head, I found myself fuming at the Krev. Forget goodwill toward his obor for being a fellow primate. It was an animal that attacked me out of nowhere, unprovoked! My enthusiasm for this tour was soured, as I prepared to round on Gress with a tirade.

“What the literal fuck?” I hissed.

Gress eyed Juvre, before placing the obor back on his shoulder. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’d think a primate, of all the sapient species out there, would know a fear grimace when you see one. He was terrified of you, and you flashed your teeth to assert dominance in response, then made like you wanted to grab him? That’s on you, Taylor. I have no words.”

“What? He was smiling! That’s…that expression means happiness. I thought it was cute.”

“Wait. You’re telling me that humans bare your teeth to signal that you’re happy?! I’ve seen relaxed mouth curvature that signifies submission in primates, but that extension makes zero sense. I thought that you were afraid of the sand, when you were baring your fangs outside; same for when you did it at me earlier. You’re the most bizarre primates I’ve ever heard of! ”

“I’m sorry that I, um, misunderstood. I should’ve asked if I could approach him.”

“It’s alright, Taylor. I’m sorry Juvre attacked you. He’s usually quite friendly with people, even aliens, but—”

“Primates don’t like other primates,” Mayor Hathaway chuckled. “And we’re territorial.”

I scowled at him. “Stop laughing! You’re not the one who got your head taken off.”

“Unfortunately for us, it’s still attached to your shoulders,” Cherise snickered.

Gress tried to mask his own amusement. “Are you alright, Taylor? I’m aware you had a preexisting head injury.”

“I’m fine. I’m just swell,” I grumbled.

“Good. I suppose you’ve gotten a taste of what it must’ve been like for early Krev to domesticate the obor! Primates are…known to be extremely aggressive and violent animals in the wild, which is why frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t club me over the head sooner, Taylor. I’m more willing to forgive the act with that in mind.”

“That’s not an excuse for us. We’re sapient. Whatever the Federation said about us, we’re not…out-of-control animals. We’re just a little prone to strong emotions.”

“I understand that. My point is, the obors weren’t easy to mellow out at all. They figured out they could use us for food, and their species was close to extinction, so…living with the Krev probably saved them. They’re lucky we’re stubborn shits. The first obors would bite as a form of communication, they were destructive as can be, and completely uncontrollable. If you weren’t domesticated over centuries, then I can imagine humans have those tendencies.”

Cherise smirked. “We actually are domesticated. Self-domesticated. We chose to select for more…docile behaviors over time. We even show forms of neoteny, which means—”

“Juvenile traits that stay until adulthood. That must be why you have so little fur, and such short canines! Little Juvre probably has bigger chompers than you. That’s why you’re so cute!”

I heaved a bewildered sigh. “Uh, thanks? I guess this beats having aliens tell us how terrifying our canines are, but it’s also kinda weird.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just excited. You’re so goofy, and furless, and you have all these weird traits; I’m getting carried away. It blows me away who was really under those masks, after all the awful things I imagined about you. Every Krev needs to know!”

“Then we need to know what you were talking about earlier with the Jaslips,” Hathaway interjected. “And we need to be briefed on every species in the Krev Consortium.”

“A deal is a deal. All I can hope is that you won’t judge us too harshly for our choices. We’ve only ever done what we thought was best for every species.”

I crossed my arms. “We’ve heard that before, from a group of species who did anything but what was best.”

“Taylor!” Cherise warned.

“No, I think that you need some time to process what you’ve learned about us; and Taylor needs time to rest and recover before we head to Avor,” Gress interjected. “I would like to have him accompany me home, and speak to the Consortium. Before this all blew up, he was a wonderful advocate for humanity.”

I gestured to my chest with incredulity. “Me? But I attacked you! This isn’t a ploy to whisk me off for punishment, is it?”

“It’s not. I want you to come with me, and show that we’re both willing to start over. I’m going to need some trust from all of you, but I’d like some time to think of how to explain our Jaslip rationale. I’d also like to send word home that I’m alright, so that they don’t send in a pissed off fleet. When Taylor is healed up and I’ve cleared your arrival with the Consortium, we can set sail—and then, it’ll be an appropriate time to brief you.”

My eyes rolled back in thought; given that I had been the one who stopped the Krev from speaking, right when he was about to divulge the truth, it might be best if I agreed to his terms. The entire whirlwind of waking up in the medical bay, the tense encounter with Gress, and discovering his true feelings on primates and the Federation had left me exhausted. The others would be fine, but if I was the one he insisted on bringing, I needed to be in a better state to process whatever he had to say on the Jaslips. The mayor seemed to see that I was in dire need of a rest, because he nodded in agreement with the Krev’s terms.

“Very well. I’ll send Taylor to Avor, to plead humanity’s case and request assistance, on one condition,” Hathaway said, after exchanging a look with Cherise. “You take Cherise Benson with you as well. I don’t feel right sending Taylor alone, with his recent behavior.”

The security guard raised her eyebrows. “Plus, he needs someone to protect him. We know nothing about what Avor is like.”

“And there’ll be no more delays with the scoop on your controversy. We’re sending our diplomats in blind enough as is.”

The Krev petted Juvre absent-mindedly. “Very well. I’ll spend some time getting to know your people—if you’ll have me. It’s long overdue. Taylor can find me when he’s back on his feet.”

“Well, I guess I have no say in getting shipped off to an alien planet,” I grumbled. “Nice of you to ask.”

“You owe us both,” the mayor challenged. “After all the problems you’ve caused, you’re due for a little service to fix humanity’s situation.”

“Heard. I’ll barter for our survival, and clear up any misunderstandings. You’ve got my word.”

“Good. Take him back, Benson. I have some things I’d like to discuss with Gress in private.”

Cherise nodded, before pivoting my wheelchair back toward the exit. I risked a glance over my shoulder, noticing Juvre seeming to giggle as I was carried away. I stuck my tongue out at the obor, who scowled back at me with an ugly expression. Riding on Gress’ ship with that nasty pet sounded unbearable; it was obvious that thing didn’t like me. If that obor ever tried to lay a paw on me again, I was going to teach it a lesson. No tiny monkey would get to antagonize me, just like nobody would ever oppress this colony and our species anymore!

Huffing to myself, I tried to contemplate what exactly I should say to the Krev Consortium, and what else we might find out about their ways. To my amazement, I found that I somewhat liked Gress; I hoped the full story about the Krev wouldn’t make me regret that generous assessment.

A/N - Part 12! Gress catches a glimpse of how the humans live, and learns the truth about why the ark fled: how (according to our narrators) Earth was destroyed by the Federation, and they're the last survivors trying to rebuild the human race. He vows that the Krev will protect and aid them, while cryptically mentioning something about a Jaslip decision, before leading the humans to the ship; Taylor relishes his first real taste of the outdoors in his memory, surprising some aboveground workers.

Will the Consortium prove helpful to elevating the ark colonists' conditions? Will the humans' spirits improve with an alien species finally accepting them, and the Krev showing pity toward their story? And just what is the truth about the Jaslips?

Then, of course, our narrator makes one of the most common mistakes that humans make with other primates...that was no smile, since our cousins aren't insane enough to signal submissiveness constantly to get along. Juvre misinterprets the bared teeth as an act of aggression; Gress chews Taylor out, before it's explained what happened. What do you think of our glimpse of an obor? What do you think of Gress' specific request to take Taylor to Avor, to request aid for humanity?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!