The Nature of Predators - Human Exterminators 2 (8/9)

First | Prev | Next

Memory transcription subject: William Kane, Human Exterminator

Date [standardized human time]: January 31, 2137

My wounds from when Rauln and I traded blows looked superficial, compared to my banged-up condition after a brief captivity at Humanity First’s hands. It kept me out of commission for over a week, though part of that was me lacking the mental fortitude to face my employer, knowing that I’d betrayed the guild. As remorse gnawed at my heart, I’d forwarded a confession to Volek of what I gave Malthe’s crew; I would’ve offered my resignation, but I wanted the punitive justice of being fired. It was possible the PR specialist had already known, especially if Paulo had spilled the beans.

My nose was in a splint, and the fractured ribs made it painful when I took a breath. The crutches were digging into my armpits, courtesy of my swollen leg where I’d gotten stabbed. What wasn’t damaged goods was the question. I certainly looked ostensibly worse for wear; Venlil were avoiding me on the streets, like they had when I’d been an unhygienic alcoholic. There was no way a human could take such a beating, if it wasn’t a violent predator, right?

As my face hardened into a familiar scowl, I nearly stabbed at the furry mass on the stairs with a crutch. Fyron was laying across the middle step, on her side, pulling on her floppy ears. The Farsul bore the look of defeat, just as I had when I’d given up on life. That was one emotion I pitied above all others, the feeling of being treated as a monster and having lost everything. After my crew had rescued me from drowning in my hubris, perhaps I could try to be supportive and return the favor. Had I not been worried about getting back up, I would’ve sat by her side.

“Hey, I got a question. Let me guess…everyone at the office is saying Malthe showed humanity’s ‘true predator side?’” I whispered.

The Farsul was unresponsive, and up close, I could see that she was weeping. Her paws dug into her ears with enough force that I was worried she’d rip them off, coming unstitched like a stuffed animal. I racked my mind for what could’ve happened to her; I hadn’t had the heart to consult the news, so it was possible more details from the Archives had been given to the public. Rauln could’ve been antagonizing her in my absence, and been leaving that out during his hospital visits. I couldn’t see any fresh wounds on the cocker-spaniel alien, but even if it was verbal harassment, I’d have to lay out my roommate.

Fyron looks completely broken. How many other exterminators have seen her here and walked by? I have to snap her out of this, get her inside, and hide her away from prying eyes.

I tapped my chin, considering a different approach. “Fine, don’t answer then. I know it’s true. Question two. Is Ryan based on me?”

“…what?” Fyron’s head snapped up in surprise; that question caught her off-guard, enough to snap her out of her piteous trance. Her puffy eyes blinked rapidly. “My book characters have nothing to do with you. I’d have zero interest in…courting you!”

“Why not?”

“You’re a prick. It’s b-basically your nickname.”

“Ouch. Then who’s the lucky man?”

“Nobody! I don’t expect humans to understand.”

“Try me.”

“Uh, it’s just like, I don’t know, a vague interest in what it would be like to be with, uh, monsters.”

“Surprise, we totally get it. Look up vampires, Fyron. That’s what you want…hell, you could make a story about Venlil vampires, and get some human readers. Shit, that’s the twist you put in your book! Ryan is a vampire.”

“A what?”

“Drinks blood, immortal, hates the sun and fire, infects people by biting them in the neck. Totally seems like a ‘you’ thing. You can be inside researching that, and not crying on the stairs. You’re blocking my fucking crutches.”

The Farsul gave me a once-over, before determining that I was considerably wounded. She hopped up to her feet, and opened the front door to help me enter. I lingered on the middle step, feigning like I was too tired to carry on. My banter had failed to address the root of Fyron’s issues, and while I was horrific at boosting people’s emotional welfare, it was an excuse to stall getting fired by Volek. Hell, for what I did, I could even be arrested; it wasn’t known to me where Venlil law stood on data theft and cybercrime.

It's clear that they consider Humanity First terrorists, and my attempts to associate with them are another mark against me, both for work and criminal concerns. It’s not so easy to face the music, when it’s about to be cranked up in your face.

I grimaced, as a sharp pain stabbed through my ribcage. “Now, we’re gonna do the whole ‘talk about our feelings’ bullshit, okay? This could be the last time we talk.”

“Last time. W-why?” Fyron stammered.

“I was on probation, and that was before I ran off to join HF. I know what I did, and I’m real fuckin’ sorry, but that isn’t worth a damn. I’m expecting to get shitcanned at best. So, tell your human bestie what’s troubling you, as a goodbye present? You don’t cry tears like that because you stubbed your toe.”

“I can’t, Will…it was humans! Humans fucking did it, and now I’ll never go home, see my family again, or even taste a damn fruit from the ground. My relatives are in a planet-wide prison, and every expat Farsul that’s left is going to be an outcast. We’re all banned from the galaxy; what happens when they start rounding us up? How do we even talk to our relatives—it’s like they’re dead.”

“Slow down. What happened? Humans, uh, did we do something after the Archives?”

“Yes! A debris field strewn around the planet, impenetrable to ship travel. A cage, no, a quarantine, like me and my loved ones are a disease. I haven’t agreed with any of what my people did, Will, it’s why the fuck I left. Everything is gone, but I’m just supposed to stay here, and be treated worse than any species was, including yours.”

“Nobody’s calling you a non-sapient that should be burned alive. Nobody’s telling you that you don’t have feelings.”

“Well, they feared you. They hate me! I don’t want to be a Farsul, Will…I want to be from a different place, at a different time, in a different universe. I hate my fucking species too.”

I leaned onto my crutches with one arm, and gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “We’re at war, Fyron, but…for what it’s worth, I don’t see you as one of them. People aren’t a blanket group, anymore than humans are all predatory sadists ‘cause of those HF boys. Rauln is wrong, to hate every Farsul that ever lived. Like I was wrong about Luala.”

“Say that again? My ears are playing tricks on me. I swear, you just admitted you treated our Krakotl friend like shit.”

“I was starting to like her, and I hated that I liked her. The Krakotl killed my family, and I owed it to them to hate her, even if it’s wrong—Rauln’s the same, ‘cause he blames you for killing his mom. My point is, that you and your family didn’t have any more power to stop this shit than we did. It didn’t have to fucking be like this, but it ain’t your fault. And…I’m sorry you can never go home. I know what that’s like.”

Drawing a deep breath, I limped past Fyron; the Farsul seemed to be processing my words, her brain lagging well behind her ears. I hoped that for once in my life, I’d said the right assurances. The last thing I wanted was to hurt anyone else with my careless mouth. It could be my imagination, but there was a bit more life in Fyron’s eyes. Perhaps it was time to admit that I cared about her, and the rest of my crew, with no strings attached. They’d had no strings attached in saving my life.

Friends are there for each other when times are rough, and when they need each other. After all the shit I’ve put my buddies through, I can only hope I get the chance to make up for it.

Volek was glowering at me, wordlessly pointing at the Venlil clock on the wall. That gesture transcended any culture; it was obvious my pit stop to console Fyron had resulted in me being late. Rather than throwing the Farsul under the bus, I gestured up-and-down the length of my battered body. Many sets of eyes were on me, as most exterminators had never seen a human on crutches before. It was likely that several were concerned about a wounded predator passing them. Had I not been committed to penance, I might’ve imitated a biting motion to make them jump.

We marched into the conference room, and my palms felt sweaty against my crutch handles. The Venlil receptionist took her usual chair, and for once, seemed more tired than fiery. I eased myself into an adjacent seat, and waited for the chips to fall. After what I’d chosen to do, Volek was within her rights to award punitive measures. I remembered that first day, when I screamed at her in a drunken haze; she was insistent that I heard what she had to say in response. Her lack of fear had always struck me as odd, but this was the lone instance I saw her look at me like I was a monster.

“Why, William? I never imagined you’d sell us out to an extremist group on a whim,” Volek sighed.

I nursed my aching ribs. “I wanted reforms, and I could see I wasn’t going to get ‘em the traditional way. I…wanted to change the guild, not to hurt or destroy it. Putting everyone at risk—HF really meant it, when they said they want to kill xenos. I didn’t see it, because I don’t think that harsh and all, and I’m deeply sorry.”

“We’re cutting back on flamethrower use. We set up entire new departments at your behest, and tore down institutions that stood centuries. Is that not radical enough for you?”

“It’s not, boss, and I won’t add insult to injury by lying to you now. I am embarrassed about how easily I was convinced to turn on my friends. I thought it was a good fuckin’ cause, but even if that had been right, it was theft and spying. My…mother would’ve been ashamed, if she saw the man I’ve become.”

Volek slammed a paw on the table, startling me. “Will, I’ve put up with so much shit and given you so many chances. I’ve had my own reasons, granted, but I was trying to help you get on your feet. You insist on throwing away every chance you’re given, every helping paw you get! How can we ever trust you again?!”

“You can’t, boss. You warned me that there wouldn’t be a next time, and I only created more of a clusterfuck than ever. I don’t listen, I don’t learn, and I don’t think near enough. It took a brush with death to realize the people I cared about were right there, all the time. Whatever you think you must do, I deserve it.”

“Shit, I’m beyond words. I need to think this over. You’re going to do something for me, and if you have any decency, you won’t fuck it up. Can you handle that?”

“Anything, Volek.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near that HF guy we captured, but it can’t be helped. We need to close the case, and find out exactly why Luca was killed, not just who did it. Paulo says he’ll only talk to you, so you’re going to do this thing with a fucking friendly snarl on your face. Finish what you started.”

“Right on. Take me to Paulo, and I’ll do my best.”

“Fine. We’ll talk about your future with…or without the guild after.”

I nodded in acknowledgement. Volek guided me through the refurbished human sectors of the guild, as quickly as my injuries allowed me to follow. The exterminators had a proper lockup section now, rather than just hauling any quirky individuals off to a predator disease facility. This arrangement was until we could finish investigation questioning, and pass them off to the legal system for arraignment. Most cells I walked by held Venlil or other aliens, since the UN generally swooped in to take custody of human rabble-rousers. Even at a more “liberal” branch run by our own people, I wouldn’t leave a predator in the guild’s domain either.

However, I could see Paulo pacing in a far cell at the end of the hall; several of the other inmates were shooting furtive glances at the caged predator. I gave him a once-over to ensure that no funny business had ensued, but he looked unharmed and well-fed. It was a safe assumption no bumbling idiot had given him meager Venlil rations. Having witnessed Rauln’s “three-credit” fruit salads, I found them inadequate to feed a squirrel, let alone a human soldier. Not all of us could subsist on acorns and grass.

Jokes aside, I wonder why he insisted on speaking to me. I have mixed feelings on Paulo—he was clearly playing me and lying about Luca, but he also stood up for me to Malthe…and saved Luala. Damn, I’m actually happy the Krakotl lived.

Paulo wrapped his fingers around the bars, leaning forward. “William. I’m glad you’re alright. I’m sorry about what happened to you; I knew you were on our side, and I didn’t think Malthe would…well, we’re both fucked six ways to Sunday now. I didn’t want anyone getting hurt. I am sorry.”

“I’m here because Volek’s got some wacky idea that you’ll only talk to me. Tell me what you know about Luca Ricci’s death. ‘Cause you did know when I showed you those pics at the bar, yeah? And you know why it went down too.”

“I always knew, William, but I figured Malthe made the right judgment about Luca. I mean, maybe he would’ve reported us. Ricci must’ve been sick of the back alley dealings, and must’ve gotten a bit too close to the aliens whose palms he greased. Word came through the grapevine that Luca wanted out, I passed it along, and Mr. Hansen told me he’d take care of it.”

“Taking care of someone? You know what the fuck that means in big bad talk.”

“I thought he’d…talk him down, I swear it! When you showed me that picture, I realized…and I realized I’d gotten Luca killed. I knew it would destroy the organization, and we’d all go down if I spoke up anyways. If it was a special case…”

“Murder is okay? God, there’s lines even I don’t cross.”

“There were lines I’d never cross, but that was before what happened to Earth. A billion humans dead has a way of changing your perspective. You know that.”

“I’m done making excuses for me—so is everyone else. For all that talk about being better than xenos, when push came to shove, you and I proved we’re not. Either have some scruples or don’t; I don’t give a flying fuck. Just don’t try to fit your morals with what happened…you can’t have your crunchcakes and eat ‘em too.”

“…crunchcakes?”

“Heh, you wouldn’t understand. Well if that’s all you know about the case, then I’m gonna go let Volek kick me to the curb. I do hope you turn things around, Paulo. I hope we both do.”

“That’s all you want to say? Please, don’t go! I’m gonna lose my mind, staring at these four walls…ugh!”

“With respect, I didn’t really want to talk to you at all. You’re the jackass that led me into a trap, almost got me killed. I can’t help you.”

I turned on my heel, and observing my eagerness to leave, Volek padded back down the path we came from. The Venlil walked much slower on the return trip, perhaps disappointed that I’d completed her request with Paulo at a breakneck pace. I suspected she wanted more time to think and sort through what to do about me. The snail-speed stroll was fine, since it was hard to hop anywhere in a hurry on crutches. The workers in the human sector stared at me, though they pretended to be focused on their computer screens when I returned the favor.

I pretended not to notice the worried-looking Krakotl waiting by my desk, like she wanted to ambush me. Luala perked up, spotting me ducking into the conference room; I chided myself to impart a friendly gesture for once. My hand raised in a wave, and the bird tossed her beak at Volek. Dammit, Fyron must’ve told her that I might be getting a pink slip. It took a monumental effort to conceal my nerves, but I offered a nonchalant shrug. I should try not to have selfish thoughts just this once, since it would probably be best for everyone if I wasn’t around the office anymore.

Volek seemed more frustrated than before, as she threw herself back down in her customary chair. “No snarky comments, William?”

“Not today. I’m saving them all for Rauln.”

“Respecting authority is a new thing. It’s a little late to heed that…‘get with the program’ advice.”

“Er, better late than never? I’m more changed than the Krakotl genome.”

“…there’s the Will I know. If you said Venlil, I would’ve kicked your ass; sore subject. For the record, I’m meaner than Rauln. You’ll never make me afraid of you either, you know.”

“Why’s that? Look how ginormous my canines are.”

“You could have Arxur teeth, and I wouldn’t feel a thing. How do you feel about that?”

“I believe you, boss. I’ve had an inkling you’re neurodivergent since day one.”

Volek’s eyes lowered in thought. “I…was worried you’d think I’m a sociopath. I’m not! I did some research, after we had true access to Earth’s information. I believe I have something similar to Urbach-Wiethe Disease. It’s rare in humans…perhaps also in Venlil, but who really knows, since it’s all called predator disease.”

“Alright.” I racked my brain for an appropriate thing to say, knowing I often lacked tact. “First off, I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”

“I’m stalling for time to finalize my decision. Also, I know your position on mental conditions, and I’ve been itching to tell someone for years.”

“Okay. Uh, Volek, I don’t know what that disease is? Never even heard of it.”

“I don’t feel fear. In the testing, it didn’t register in my brain. Empathy…sure, but not fear. Never those famed instincts you hate so much. I find the way they reacted to human eyes as absurd as you did.”

“It’s fucking nuts. It’s not like my dreamy gaze can hurt you. And, whatever you decide on the job, I’ll take your secret to my grave if you want me to. I’m sure those tests you mentioned were less than fun, and I wouldn’t send Kalsim for predator disease treatments.”

“Pfft, you would strap Kalsim to the shock machines yourself. And just to be clear, my choice to confide in you has no bearing on my selected punishment. Remember, I don’t feel fear.”

“Noted. ‘Selected punishment’…does that mean you’ve made a decision?”

“On what to do about your betrayal? Yes.”

I drew in a sharp breath, and felt the saliva in my mouth dry up in an instant. Time slowed to a crawl, as I leaned forward in anticipation of her verdict. The Venlil picked up a pen, and tapped it on the table with a foreboding aura. Whatever punishment was awarded to me, I was going to try to take it on the chin. It remained to be seen if, congruent to my predictions, this was my last day as an employee of the exterminator guild.

First | Prev

A/N - The penultimate episode! Will recovers from his wounds, and comes clean to Volek out of guilt; his repentant attitude might be way too late to save his job. Fyron mourns the blockade of Talsk, and Mr. Kane attempts to cheer her up. Volek sends Will on an expedition to close the cause, via interrogating a certain someone in a jail cell; she also explains her mental differences from an average Venlil, as an attempt to stall. What would you do in Volek's position...and what do you think she will do? Do you believe the changed William will last?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!