The Nature of Predators - Human Exterminators 2 (3/9)

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Memory transcription subject: William Kane, Human Exterminator

Date [standardized human time]: January 19, 2137

This bar was a place I’d heard about through the grapevine; a Venlil employee was the first participant in the human foster program to file for full adoption, which endeared the Terran clientele to her. The institution had served “predators” before that was common practice, but I avoided it despite it being popular among the refugees. After weeks of using alcohol to drown my feelings post-Earth, I had tried to stay on the wagon since Volek demanded I sober up. The last thing I needed was to return to wandering the streets, and nearly smashing windows. I slouched with discomfort, as a wall of fragrant liquor greeted me upon entry.

My eyes turned away from the bar, searching for anyone with a blue ring or that fit the Humanity First bill. A familiar face was sitting at a table in the corner, and a grin spread across his rosy lips when he spotted me. He waved, revealing the symbolic ring on his middle finger. Paulo, the soldier I met from the predator disease facility. As I approached his position, the Brazilian leapt up and embraced me in a hug. One of his arms was in a sling; I could vaguely recall him injuring a limb during the chase.

“William! Please, let me buy you a drink,” Paulo chuckled. “You saved my life, pushing me in the direction of HF. You inspired me.”

I blinked in confusion, but grabbed a chair at his table. “You look…much happier. The UN let you join HF?”

“I’m on light duty. The people leading Earth are a bunch of moralist hypocrites, you know. I saw that when they were more worried about offending Tarva than saving kids. How many more days did Noah want Bonsen to suffer, just so he didn’t rock the boat? What do they stand for, other than, like you said, kissing alien ass?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“That’s right! I told everyone back at headquarters how fucking brilliant you were, Will, the star power you have. A man of action. Blunt, to the point, and unapologetically human. They respect what you said in that interview, after the Intestine-Eater case. I watched it too; mighty fine stuff.”

“…really? I thought HF wouldn’t want anything to do with me, since I work with aliens.”

“There’s lots of camps on aliens, but most of us don’t want them dead. The fact is, their inferior culture shouldn’t be dictating a word to us; we’re better, and we should be in charge. You get that humans are number one. Like you said to the cameras, we’ll fix it all, and they’ve done enough—we don’t need them. We call the shots.”

I grinned like an idiot. “Cheers to that. So…HF gets that I’m protecting our interests? Getting xenos to do things our way?”

“How could they not? You refused to cover for the exterminators, and you told the truth on live TV. No cover-ups. No backing down and apologizing. You shine a light on their sick ways, and call out the fucking bullshit they do. You’re one of us.”

“I’m just tired of being treated like shit. I’m tired of the UN rolling over, letting us suffer for xenos’ sake. We should be first in our leaders’ minds.”

“And even now, we’re not. Callsi! Come here; I’ve got a very special guest.”

A Venlil hustled out from behind the bar, and the immediate attention suggested that Paulo was one of her regular, more generous patrons. Callsi gave off a motherly air, strangely reminiscent of my own mother; I could see her eyes occasionally darting back at a young Venlil, to ensure that he kept scribbling at a stack of papers. There was no sign of hostility or fear to an unfamiliar human like me. It was the hospitality I’d expect back at an Earth establishment, where we used to be treated as people rather than ticking time-bombs. I offered a friendly smile, and she flicked her ears in greeting.

“A special guest with one of my favorite customers?” the employee asked. “What’s his name? Is he a special someone, Paulo love?”

Paulo quickly shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Will gave me direction during a dark time in my life, and for that, I’m grateful. How’re Dustin and Jimek?”

“Bah, what do you humans say? ‘Boys will be boys?’ Dustin was teaching Jimek about…voodoo dolls, I think you call it, and they were sticking pins in a mock-up of Cylek.”

I blinked in surprise. “Cylek?”

“A bully who tormented Jimek,” Paulo explained. “Tore up his drawings, and tried to carve his own ‘drawings’ into the poor Venlil’s ears.”

“Ah, but Venlil are peaceful prey, huh? In that case, I’d be fine with Dustin and Jimek sticking some pins in the actual guy. Cylek’s lucky it’s just a doll. Shit, I’ve already kicked one teenage Venlil’s ass, so why don’t you just give me his home address.”

I expected Callsi to rebuke me, but she looked tempted. “I’ll consider it. What can I get for you, Will?”

“Just water, please.”

Humanity First can’t hate aliens if they’re on such good terms with a Venlil. Besides, this is Paulo, you know he’s on the same wavelength as you. These are patriots, salt of the earth folks.

“Nonsense!” Paulo protested. “Man, I owe you a ton. Let me at least get you a beer.”

“Beer versus water? What’s the difference?” Callsi whispered, nigh inaudible.

I shook my head. “Guys, I don’t drink anymore. I’ve been fighting that itch for months. Tryna be better, you know?”

The Brazilian recoiled. “Then what the fuck are you doing in a bar?”

“Ah, ‘fraid I’m here on work business. I’ll get to that, but I don’t want to show Callsi the ghastly reason for my visit. Even she probably wouldn’t be too fond of bloody pictures; unfortunately, it’s not Cylek.”

“I didn’t say I wished death upon him,” the Venlil bartender protested. “I’ll leave you to it, and circle back with some water in few minutes.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to meet you.”

I fished my holopad out of my pocket, and searched for the hastily-snapped image I had of the victim. Paulo leaned over the table inquisitively, so I passed him the device without a word. His eyes widened with horror, along with a glimmer of recognition. That left no doubt in my mind that our unlucky human was with Humanity First. I could admit to myself that I was a little distracted by the presence of an organization I spent an unhealthy amount of time fantasizing about; however, I wanted to solve this case for the same reason this movement intrigued me.

It was high time that someone stood up for the interests of our species, and decided we weren’t going to take slights anymore. The cold-blooded murder of a human, whether for his eyes or his ideological beliefs, couldn’t go unpunished. I was nobody’s doormat, and I was ready to fight back against alien cruelty. What if this case was the universe’s way of giving me a second chance, to face the terrifying conflict rather than run? To derive meaning from my family’s death, light-years away on Earth?

“Paulo, you know who this is?” I prompted.

“Yeah. I do.” The soldier’s face had turned ashen, and he wiped sweat from his forehead. He slid the device back across the table, pursing his lips. “That’s Luca Ricci. One of ours. He ran deliveries of…well, I don’t know if I should tell you. You’re technically with the authorities…”

I coughed pointedly. “He’s dead. I want to catch whoever did this. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about some black market shit.”

“Right. We, uh, smuggle some lab-grown meat shipments out of the factories on Skalga. They were meant for the Arxur, but no one noticed us skimming a little. Luca delivered real food to refugees interested in buying, and it helps us fund the more…charitable side of the group. Everyone wins.”

“Except Luca.”

“You had to go there?”

“It’s true. Real shit though, could you hook me up with these shipments? I’m perfectly ok with blowing my paycheck on a juicy, bloody burger that hits the spot.”

“I’ll set you up, man. Anyhow, figure I answered your questions, but you really should come to our meeting tomorrow night. It’s at the refugee camp, in the home supply store after it closes. You could help us destroy the guild from the inside, make a real difference.”

I’m not sure I want to destroy the exterminators, not after they gave me a new lease on life. But Paulo was talking about reforms earlier, so I’m sure that’s what he meant—change for my people, and a takedown of the other branches who haven’t adapted.

I lowered my eyes, nodding along. “Right. I take it if the store’s closed, you need an invitation to get in?”

“Sort of. Just in case I’m not there, take this, as a gift.” Paulo pulled a small object from his pocket, and extended his hand. He placed a rubber ring into my palm; I knew it was HF-blue without looking. “Knowing your leanings, I assume you know which digit to put it on. It’s adjustable. Drop my name if anyone at the meetup gives you trouble, but I doubt they will.”

I fitted the band on my middle finger, and admired my outstretched hand for several seconds. Just like that, I was part of the secret club, waging a quiet war on behalf of humanity. It felt wonderful to have the acceptance and belonging I desired; that was the missing piece, ever since I’d fled to Skalga. Rauln’s concerns over Humanity First hung in my ears, and I couldn’t help but scoff at his foolishness. My roommate would never approve of me going to this meeting, but that was exactly why I was planning on it. These were more my people than xenos could ever be.

“Appreciate it. I’ll be there; and please, for the love of all that’s good about Earth, get me those burgers. I’ll pay you whatever,” I pleaded.

Paulo chuckled to himself. “Good luck with the case. I don’t know who’d do this…”

“Someone who thought he should die for the crime of selling flesh. It was crystal clear to me the moment you said that. We’re not free on this planet, not if we act genuinely human.”

“You’re preaching to the choir. I can’t go home, because I was punished for stopping a kid from getting electroshocked. There’s nothing keeping you here, and yet you stay. Why?”

“That’s…a good question. I guess I have nothing to go back to.” Maybe I’m a little scared we’ll be attacked again, and the whole world will be blown to smithereens this time. “Earth’s not the same. It won’t ever be. If I go home, it makes it real.”

“Fair enough. I wish I could pretend it wasn’t real…I feel guilty for surviving, instead of my boyfriend, to the point it keeps me up at night. I should’ve been there, on the ground, and that…that’s real. It’ll always be, no matter where I am.”

“I’m sorry. That guilt’s exactly how I feel about my family. I wish I could trade places…I wish I never came to this dump of a planet. I should’ve been there with them too, protecting my little sis.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to be a downer, man. I hear you, ‘cause it’s hard to carry a burden like that around. Fact is, we’re both here now, and we gotta make something of it. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“You betcha. Keep fighting the good fight.”

I swung by the bar, chugging the water glass Callsi had prepared so I hadn’t wasted her time. Jimek was still working on his homework, a cream-colored cowlick falling into his eyes. A mess of drawings were arrayed near his backpack, several of a human kid with curly hair. One notably had Dustin, I presumed, punching a Venlil kid in the jaw. The art was pretty high quality, though it was surprising how much orange blood he’d added. I leaned over to impart a few words about the voodoo doll his mother mentioned.

“What you want is revenge, huh? Then do to this bully of yours what he did to you,” I whispered. “Anyone who hurts you deserves to suffer.”

Jimek tightened his grip on his pencil. “I know. It would be a shame if someone set his house on fire. Must’ve been exterminator business, I guess.”

“Ha, I work for the guild, kid. If you’re serious, drop by my desk and ask for a flamethrower. I don’t use mine. You’d put it to better use.”

“I…think about doing it, but I’m not sure if I mean it? I mean, that’s a violent thing to fantasize…”

“But he deserves it. You know Cylek deserves it.”

“Yeah.”

“Then that settles it.”

“Hey, what are you saying to Jimek?” Callsi called.

I offered a nonchalant shrug. “Kid’s got talent with his art. I have connections with the guild, so he should come see me. We fund a lot of artsy-fartsy stuff.”

“The exterminator guild? The ones who held a bunch of human kids at flamethrower point on their first day of school?”

“Uh, that might’ve been my partner. Rauln’s a good kid…he was just being angsty.”

“How in the blazes can you defend him, let alone work with him? You’re human, and he threatened—”

“Ah, I’d love to chat, but I’ve really got to get back. Super violent murders today, and I’m the city’s only hope with my incredible detective skills. Later!”

I rushed out the door, relieved to escape the task of defending Rauln’s threats against Terran kids. The smoke-furred Venlil truly was horrible to my species when we first met, even if I’d painted our introduction rosier in my mind. Given that he pointed both a flamethrower and a gun at me day one, I couldn’t tell Callsi in good faith that he hadn’t hated humans. After everything we’d been through, he still told me at the crime scene that he didn’t believe we lacked bloodlust. How many times had I been around him when he was wounded? More than once!

Why did Rauln want you to protect him, if he was scared to be alone? Why would he want to live with a creature he thought craved blood?!

Wringing my hands in irritation, I dialed the smoky-furred exterminator. It would put my mind at ease if he gave me his insights on the case; maybe he’d picked up something from the witnesses. Someone had to pass along the victim’s identity to Althea, and I’d prefer to avoid interacting with that snotty tech where possible. She looked down on me for being an exterminator, the way all Venlil frowned upon me for being a predator. Paulo hadn’t done that. Humanity First welcomed me, no judgment or questions asked.

“Hey buddy!” I spoke with forced enthusiasm, as the Venlil teen accepted my call. “What’d you find with Cordon Bleu?”

“Let me guess: that’s some kind of chicken dish? And I’m not supposed to be concerned about how many ways you humans conjured up to eat one type of flesh? It’s almost impressive. Almost,” Rauln sighed.

“You do have deductive reasoning! Variety is the spice of life, my friend, and—”

“I don’t want to know about your flesh rituals, or how wonderful carcasses taste to you. If chicken dishes were that good, you wouldn’t have needed to swipe my crunchcakes.”

“Chicken and crunchcakes; that’d be like with waffles, but crunchier. You should let me cook for you.”

“Never in a million years. Why would you ruin my food with your stomach’s vile…desires?”

“Variety. You brought up the crunchcakes. Tell me what you found out from the witnesses, and I won’t have to teach you about five-star cuisine, ‘cause your salads ain’t it.”

Rauln’s hiss was audible over the phone. “Right. The witnesses. Couldn’t find anybody who saw much. Luala asked what train stops were scheduled to go through, and it was just a few regular commuters. Some workers sweeping the floors. Small group of human buskers passing by. Mostly people getting off and on the trains, hurrying about their day.”

“So you struck out, and have nothing useful to tell me.”

“Now you know how I feel, hearing about the expansive list of girls who dumped you.”

“At least I’ve been in a relationship. Your most intimate connection is with your flamethrower, and you can’t even ask that contraption out.”

“Oh, fuck you! Will, let’s get to business so I can hang up. Fyron talked to the guy who called it in, but since he’s a Sivkit, we don’t think he’s capable of this. He’d be more likely to hide in a dumpster than hide a body in one.”

“…that was pretty racist, but I wholeheartedly agree. So we have no suspects at all.”

“Unless you turned something up. Are you gonna make me beg, to learn what the bomb-makers told you?”

“They’re not bomb-makers! That was one person, and everyone blanket-condemns HF for it.”

Without being able to gauge his expression, I could still sense a scowl spreading across the Venlil’s face. Several seconds of silence permeated the airwaves, as if Rauln was picking his words carefully. If my roommate had the nerve to tell me he was disappointed in me, after Luala had gone through the same song and dance, I was going to blow a gasket. It wasn’t an alien’s business to tell me how to live my life; this was what xenos always did to humans!

“What did they tell you, William?” Rauln growled.

I sighed. “Pass this along to the CSI folks; the victim’s name is Luca Ricci. He was affiliated with them, helped them raise money for charity work.”

“That’s all they had to say?”

HF’s meat-smuggling business probably got Luca killed…and Paulo invited me to their meeting.

“That’s all,” I lied. “I didn’t dawdle…don’t wanna be tempted to drink. See, you got all worried for nothing! Maybe you’re jealous, because unlike you, I found some info that’ll move the case along.”

There was another long pause. “I’m not jealous. Remember how you told me to stop whaling on Fyron, because it’s ‘what you would do?’ This is one of those moments where I worry what Will Kane would do. We think alike on…things. I want to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.

“You’re projecting your present anger onto me. I’m stable. I did my job—nothing more, nothing less.”

“Good. There’s a first time for everything.”

“Come up with some new lines. Your wit’s kinda fell off, man. I’ll see you at your place.”

I hung up without another word, and exhaled a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in. Rauln didn’t seem to have seen through my deception on Humanity First, but I could imagine how critical he would’ve been if he had. Every word he said about them was derisive, not accounting for any nuance or granting them any validity! The fact was, I would have to lie to my roommate about where I was going after work tomorrow. It wasn’t fair that I had to slink around in the shadows to be with people like me.

Whatever happened next with the case and my extracurricular activities, it was glaringly obvious that I couldn’t look to any xenos for true acceptance, even the ones that were said to be my friends.

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A/N - Hope you guys enjoyed the ambitious Part 3, including characters from two separate stories in a single chapter. William recognizes the HF recruiter as the soldier who agreed with his talk in Predator Disease, and is also introduced to the one and only Callsi...and has a brief exchange with a brooding Jimek, who clearly still has it out for Cylek. As for the main event, Will is given an invite to an HF meeting, and the victim was part of a secret HF meat-smuggling business. Will our narrator wake up, before his hatred leads him down even darker roads?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! More spicy banter, fun interactions, perhaps even excerpts of Fyron's fanfic ahead? VFP characters might make another appearance too. Stay tuned!