The Nature of Predators - Venlil Foster Program (4/14)

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Memory transcription subject: Callsi, Venlil Bartender

Date [standardized human time]: October 22, 2136

It was suffocating to be trapped in an enclosed space with predators, while coasting along Venlil roads. The UN soldiers had a vehicle that drove itself, without any user input. Automated functions were one thing, but humans entrusting all decisions to a machine didn’t sit right with me. Then again, with their limited field of vision, I didn’t want them behind the wheel.

Dustin watched as Jimek shared his drawings, and took particular interest in one of himself. Something about the sketch was amusing to him, judging by the low growls. The Canadian orphan pulled a pencil from his book bag, and hastily sketched out a human face. I was impressed with the crude likeness he conjured; it was clear the predator enjoyed drawing too.

“See the difference? You have my teeth pulled back to the gums, not a gentle smile. And you didn’t give me any eyelids, bro,” Dustin chuckled.

Jimek inspected the sketch. “I…I was trying to show you were mean. It’s a little uncanny to draw humans, anyways.”

“Maybe you should draw the eyes last? Or you can try tracing actual photos of humans, so it becomes memory.”

“Good idea, thanks. You’re actually pretty good at drawing.”

“The only thing I have from my dad…it’s a coloring book. I still have it. I should hate art, but it’s the only thing that makes me feel less alone.”

Pity clenched at my heart, hearing his voice crack. Dustin had voiced that he felt unloved earlier, and I’d given those insecurities a basis at the school. I wanted to say that I loved him, but it would be dishonest. It would take time to learn how to accept him, predatory traits and all. My silence was deafening, as Jimek moved his tail back to Dustin’s wrist.

Lisa’s head swiveled around to the kid, startling me. “If you ever need company, come ask for us at the embassy. We’re all here. You’d have to put up with Oleksiy and his tin foil hat though.”

Bondarenko straightened his glasses. “UFOs are real. The Federation visited us, and obviously, they started abducting humans. They probed us because we’re predators!”

“You think those cowards would abduct us? I’m more likely to believe they killed specimens.”

“I’m sure they did that too. The point is, a few ships crashed along the way; humankind knew they were observing us. The question is why the government covered it up. The deep state knew everything.”

“And that’s why they were completely unprepared for the Krakotl attack? Earth is literally burning now.” Reynolds snorted to herself, before snarling at the kids. “Dustin, you see, however hopeless things seem, at least you’re a sane guy. I’ll give you my number if you ever want to talk to someone.”

“Me too. I can teach you the truth!”

I tilted my head in confusion, wondering if what Oleksiy said had any truth to it. Had the Federation actually experimented on humans? It didn’t sound like something we would do; the prey species were more interested in bombing Earth than learning about them. If it wasn’t true, that meant Terrans invented tales of aliens kidnapping them with a twisted imagination.

Perhaps the stories were far-fetched exaggerations, but we had visited them during their industrial era. It was possible a primitive human sighted our crafts, and the legends spiraled downhill from there. The Federation might’ve influenced the predators’ culture without ever contacting them. I hadn’t expected Terrans to be so obsessed with extraterrestrial life.

Dustin bared his teeth. “Why would the Federation probe us, Olek? They just, um, want us dead. They hate us.”

“They sure do! The Federation was testing how to kill us properly, and probing our genes for anything that helped,” the male soldier replied. “If you want to make better rat poison, what do you do? Test it on rats!”

A sick analogy. Why are they making poison for rodents?

Dustin raised his eyebrows. “…okay, but how do you know it wasn’t the Arxur beaming us up? I mean, the aliens in the stories were literally called the grays. It could be them, testing if we’re predators.”

“You’re right…could be! I didn’t think of that,” Olek replied. “The Arxur mighta got inconclusive results, so they wouldn’t tell their government about us. That tells us why UFOs travel alone too.”

Reynolds heaved an exasperated sigh. “Well, you two just hit it off. For the last time, UFOs were spy planes and drones! Militaries test technology.”

“I don’t understand half of what you’re saying, but the grays definitely didn’t visit you. They would’ve enslaved or eaten you,” I offered.

“See? And we’re here, so everyone be on your best behavior. Act normal or something?”

The chatter died down, as Lisa flashed her credentials at the UN embassy gate. The chancery’s architecture was harsh and angular, a stout contraption that was made for functionality alone. Even the exterior color was a boring silver, apart from a blue icon of Earth’s continents. The main complex’s annexes seemed like  living areas, where humans exhibited more casual behavior. Armed predators waved us on, but I noticed their thick torso armor with unease.

Did fights regularly break out on human turf? This was the beasts’ corner of our world. It was foolish of me to accompany Dustin here; it was likely Jimek and I would be the only Venlil on the premises. We would be trapped in the embassy, at the mercy of some bickering soldiers. At least the Terrans seemed chill enough, for now.

“How d-do we get Dustin back to school?” I asked.

Reynolds scratched her scalp. “Fuck if I know. Right now, we’re trying to keep him out of prison…or worse. Have to wait ‘til this works its way up to Governor Tarva.”

“What?! T-the leader of your planet is involved? I just punched one kid who deserved it,” Dustin muttered.

Bondarenko bobbed his shoulders. “That’s why we downloaded the footage. A look at that should squash the ‘predator attack’ nonsense. Just need to give us time.”

I hovered close to Dustin, as the soldiers showed us inside the embassy chancery. Artwork was placed around the entryway, alongside photographs and factoids about Earth. Jaw-dropping canyons, snow-capped mountains, and ancient buildings presented a pleasant view of the predators’ world. It saddened me to think of the antimatter strikes against their home.

The Terrans had constructed a memorial wall for their staff, with a plaque that read “In Loving Memory” in Venlil and human script. Flowers lined the floor, placed there as a gorgeous tribute to the dead. Tears swelled in my eyes, touched by the sentimentality. I felt sorrow for a world I was afraid of, and truly grasped the suffering these people endured.

The raw statistics weren’t just a staggering number, and this display reminded me that each monster was a feeling sapient. Every human had a lot more on their minds than hunger; they had families and friends. The predators weren’t built as differently if I imagined. I didn’t know how the UN Peacekeepers were able to carry on, after the magnitude of the tragedy they faced.

I couldn’t dwell on the names and images taped to the memorial wall; it put the incalculable number of deaths into faces. There were kids who looked younger than Dustin up there. There were predator couples sitting together on beaches, and large friend groups at social gatherings. The way humans mourned for the fallen couldn’t be more different than the Arxur.

“I’m sorry about Earth,” I said sincerely. “I hope your families are safe.”

Reynolds lowered her head. “Me too. My sister was studying in Barcelona, but I’m not putting her picture up there. We don’t know that she’s dead, and I’m not giving up on her.”

“Maybe she went back to the States, when she heard about the attack,” Olek offered.

“Yeah…but enough about me. We’re here for the kid.”

The lumbering predator continued onward without a word. I ruffled Dustin’s hair protectively, and the orphan shied away on instinct. While the kid had no family to call his own, Montreal, the place he grew up, was obliterated. His friends and teachers, and the scenery he was familiar with, were lost forever. If his orphanage wasn’t sent to Venlil Prime, he would be scattered to ashes too.

Jimek seemed attached to Dustin at the hip, matching his steps. I’d been concerned about a human living near a Venlil child, but that worry was based on preconceived notions. I was glad to see the two kids bonding, over their shared love of art and their isolation. My son needed a friend, and I just hoped he wouldn’t scare the Terran off with his clinginess.

Reynolds continued to walk us through the facility, and explained that Ambassador Noah’s office was on the second story. Bondarenko shared conspiratorial whispers about how an astronaut became lead diplomat, which earned an elbow from his superior. This predator liked to read elaborate schemes into everything. Were Terran governments truly that conniving?

Rows of desks sat in the embassy’s open space, with about a third occupied. Jimek squealed happily, and threw himself into an empty chair with wheels. Dustin began pushing him around, and I chased after them frantically. The children were disturbing the predators during their work! I didn’t want to see the Terran version of discipline.

Bondarenko stopped me with a light touch. “Let them play. After the past few days, we all need this.”

“I see. This place is more…empty, than I thought. Your staff must be taking time off to mourn.”

“A few, but more are throwing themselves into work. We’re diurnal, and not used to the variance in your sleep schedules,” Lisa explained. “We split the day up into thirds, to have adequate staff on call at all times.”

Dustin wheeled Jimek back to a desk, before chiming in. “I have no sense of time here. I’ve been, um, having trouble sleeping.”

“What?” I perked my ears in alarm. “You didn’t say anything.”

“You just started talking to me, and Jimek didn’t want me around. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful.”

“Your health and your rest is important. Maybe we can simulate the day-night cycle. Do you want me to cover up your skylight?”

“M-maybe some blackout curtains…if it’s not too much trouble, Callsi.”

“Of course not. I’ll look into what those curtains are exactly.”

Jimek flattened his ears. “How can you stand the dark, Dustin? You can’t see predators sneaking up on you!”

“Lots of kids are afraid of the dark, but there’s no reason to be,” the Terran child decided. “It’s different from light, not actually bad. It just looks scary…like humans.”

My eyes scanned the humans around me, who were just going about their daily routine. The ambassadorial staff’s binocular eyes were used to read emails, from their sedentary desk jobs. Even the UN peacekeepers were easygoing, once they determined I wasn’t a threat to Dustin.

It was unsettling to face prolonged exposure to Terrans, exactly like darkness. But the supposed “predator attack” taught me how wrong my gut responses were. Dustin had snarled when he was playing with Jimek, but he already proved he was protective of my son. How difficult must it be for him to adjust to this alien world? The poor kid had his very sleep disrupted, and never complained.

Maybe you should bring a little of Earth to our home. That means learning about the predators…not doing the minimum for a stipend.

Bondarenko and Reynolds led us to a visitors’ room, now that the children had settled down. They showed us to a drawer of carefully-vetted snacks, which included a salty puffball called ‘popcorn.’ It was crunchy between my teeth, with a peculiar texture. This wasn’t awful, for predator food. In fact, they shared our sporadic cravings for salt.

“I have a lot of questions about human culture. I feel like I should start with the basics: your identity. Why do you have two names?” I asked.

Lisa tapped her foot. “A few cultures on Earth have a single name, like you. But most humans have a personal name and a family name. Professionally, we refer to each other by title and family name.”

“That’s odd. So you’re saying everyone in your family is called Reynolds?”

“No…it’s more complicated than that. My mom’s side of the family has a different name. It’s customary in many human cultures for a wife to take the husband’s name, although not everyone handles things that way these days.”

“Huh? You change names with marriage to show that you’re one family?”

“In essence.”

Dustin flashed his teeth. “Actually, a lot of us have three names. I have a middle name too: Leo. Dustin Leo Curtis.”

Jimek scrunched his ears. “I am not calling you that. You can’t possibly have that many names!”

“Well, I do. Deal with it!”

The Terran stuck out his pink tongue at the Venlil, and it took me a moment to decide what the expression meant. It seemed like a teasing gesture; it looked less nefarious than the infamous teeth-baring, anyways. Deciphering human cues and body language was a challenging endeavor, since they were more alien than any other race. It was tough to get a correct read on the child’s emotions.

“I don’t get how we’re the only species that developed surnames.” Dustin’s binocular eyes swiveled toward me, with sudden seriousness. “How does your society function without them?”

“The government uses date of birth. We all have an identification number too.”

“Forget about official business. What about like, news and talk shows? Or if there were two Jimeks in the embassy, and you want one’s attention?”

“We’d use some trait that’s specific to him. Jimek, son of Callsi…or Jimek with the beige tuft.”

“I see. Sorry if I asked too many questions, I, uh, was just curious.”

“You don’t have to worry about doing something wrong, Dustin. You can ask me anything about Venlil Prime.”

Olek leaned against a wall menacingly. “We’re an open book too, Callsi. If you have any more questions about humans, you should ask us now. Including embarrassing subjects.”

“Taking care of a human is a lot of work,” Lisa growled. “You’re doing a good thing, Callsi, with a few hiccups.”

The UN soldiers were blocking our exit, which tickled my subconscious. At least Bondarenko’s glasses made him look more benign, since they obstructed his eyes. I wondered how big Dustin would become, and what he wanted to do at adulthood. Lisa’s words made me inspect his furless form with further scrutiny; human caretaking didn’t seem like any extra work compared to Jimek.

“What do you mean, a lot of work?” I asked.

Lisa tilted her head. “Humans have different needs than Venlil. You…you know that, right? Vitamins, clean clothes, exercise, sunlight and gravity therapy?”

“What?! I wasn’t told any of that. The pamphlet just said to give him the same level of care as a Venlil. Dustin, why didn’t you say anything?”

The kid shifted on his feet. “I didn’t want you to send me back, because I was too much trouble.”

“I’m not going to abandon you because of basic necessities! When we get clearance to go home, you’re going to teach me everything. Okay?”

The Terran child nodded, which I recognized as a sign of agreement. The trust still hadn’t returned to his eyes. When I looked past those chilling pupils and saccadic movements, I could see a sadness beyond his age. This 14-year-old human was the equivalent of Jimek, according to his documents. Why didn’t Dustin deserve a loving environment too?

I was committed to earning the human’s trust, and doing right by him. The fact was, Montreal wasn’t going to be habitable any time soon. The foster program would be needed longer than expected. I hadn’t signed up for the long haul, but rehoming him now would be too cruel.

The school incident could bring us closer together, since it’d revealed the error of my thinking. Dustin would be wanted in my home from this point on, not just a ticket to a paycheck. With Jimek accepting him now, we could be a welcoming family. Whatever was required for the predator’s welfare, I was willing to put in the time.

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A/N - Miniseries Part 4! Jimek and Dustin have begun to play and draw together, moving past early tensions. Meanwhile, Callsi learns more about Earth, our customs, and human caretaking at the Terran embassy. Will she be able to do things right by Dustin in the future?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!