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

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Memory transcription subject: William Kane, Human Exterminator

Date [standardized human time]: January 19, 2137

Fyron sat beside me for the entire ride, using me as a human shield from Rauln. The Farsul exterminator had been my first friend on the force, and though I respected her honesty, the lingering knowledge that her species participated in Earth’s raid weighed on me more with time. The smoke-furred Venlil’s anger was understandable now, after I’d skimmed the bulk of the revelations Tarva had released at her last campaign stop. My original thinking had been that the Krakotl were the worst offenders, but Talsk’s natives were equally culpable. If anything, the Farsul were the reason the birds had swooped down on us at all.

My leg bounced with impatience, wishing we were at the crime scene. “So what are your plans for the next off-day, Fyron? If you say the words ‘book club’, you’re gonna be the next body found in a dumpster.”

“You can’t just threaten people like that, even if you are a predator,” she sighed. “Is that a normal thing on Earth?”

Rauln’s paw moved to his sidearm. “Is kidnapping children a normal thing on Talsk?”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“But you were talking, and therein lies the problem. You don’t deserve a voice.”

I tensed. “Hey, I initiated the conversation, so take it up with me! Go eyeball the tasty grass over there, or whatever you Venlil do with your rabbit palate.”

“Will, maybe we shouldn’t talk,” Fyron offered. “I don’t want to cause trouble. It’s trouble enough that I happened to be born a Farsul.”

“Nonsense. I’m bored, and I’m trying not to fly off the handle about more human discrimination on this rock! Tell me your plans.”

“Well, I know you said not to say these words, but after the looks I’ve been getting today, it’s probably best if I skip book club for a while. Maybe I’ll have time to work on my fanfiction—fuck.”

“You have a fanfic of The Yotul Primitive? That book should be blacklisted for the title alone.”

“Like I said, I shouldn’t have said anything, um, it’s not very good and you wouldn’t like it!”

“Oh, you wanted to get me to read this racist bestseller. Not my thing. But a spin-off you wrote? This is what I’m willing to read! C’mon, tell me what it’s about. How do I find it?”

“Er, it’s a…uh…” The Farsul buried her head in her paws, and scrunched her ears with what seemed like embarrassment. “It’s a sequel, sort of, with a love triangle between Rilar the Yotul and…”

“And?” I prompted, a sly grin on my face.

“…a human.”

“What, so this chick tries to civilize the human too? Rilar is boring now that he’s pacified?”

“Like I said, you don’t want to read it, you seemed to think the Yotul part was offensive! You don’t get it!”

“No, no, I definitely want to read this. I’m not letting you off the hook. Send me the link—you have to, now that you told me.”

“…later. Look, we’re here!”

Fyron seemed delighted to escape the conversation, bolting out of the truck like I was going to pull a Rauln on her. I was a little curious to see how the book nerd wrote her human character; it could be telling that she thought we needed to be “civilized.” How much of my culture did my supposed friend view as primitive? Or was this a more humorous fantasy, with cringeworthy parts that would be hysterical? Regardless, it would be amusing to see what she imagined we were like behind closed doors.

Rauln and Luala banded together, taking the initiative to cordon off the crime scene. Word of a death in the area had been enough to clear interloping civilians from the vicinity, especially with trains being diverted from this station. I checked the file notes to see who had called it in, and ordered Fyron to track that individual down. Human crime scene techs were on stand-by, wearing full gear to avoid contaminating the scene. I approached the bunch, issuing a friendly wave rather than a handshake.

These guys seem pretty restless; I hope they can offer some insight for this case. Since they’re the actual experts, I should follow their direction.

“Hi there. I’m William Kane,” I introduced myself.

An irate mid-thirties woman shook her head. “Althea Enriquez. You took your time getting here.”

“Appreciate the friendly greeting! Guess we’re going straight to business. Any idea who the stiff is?”

“We haven’t even looked at the body, but obviously, we’ll look to see if there’s an ID. You can come, but don’t touch anything…and don’t get in our way.”

“Right.”

I gagged at the mixing stench of trash and decay, which made my stomach churn; Rauln was lucky not to be able to smell a thing, in this particular instance. Luala was puking up the remains of her morning seeds. It seemed no amount of sighting death could help her hold down her stomach contents. Flies buzzed around the rusted metal bin, where a dead human male had been thrown atop the rubbish without care. I’d managed to maintain my composure with the alien corpses, but spotting a human dead hit differently. It made my nerves tingle with horror, and a queasy feeling overtook my willpower.

The Venlil and the Krakotl gawked, as I spewed my breakfast over the pavement. Althea heaved an irritated sigh when I stooped over, trying to spit out the remnants and wipe my mouth on my shirt sleeve. I suppose I’d been premature in mocking Luala’s sensitive disposition to gore; it meant the bird didn’t see a Terran body as just a dead predator, I suppose. It bothered her, so I suppose that should’ve scored points in my book. Raising a finger at the CSI tech, I collected myself and inched forward.

“First time…seeing a dead human,” I croaked, still feeling light-headed.

“Pull yourself together. We have work to do, without having to babysit an amateur.” Althea had moved into position with a camera, snapping photos from various angles. “Gunshot to the back of the head. Do you need me to tell you what that means?”

“Either he didn’t see it coming, or he was lined up execution style. Clearly was shot somewhere else.”

“Judging by the blood pattern, I’d say you’re right. No defense wounds visible. No extraneous cuts or bruises that we can see. No drag marks or crimson footprints, which either means someone is strong enough to carry him…”

“Or there’s multiple people involved.”

“Right. From the state of decomposition, this couldn’t have happened too long ago—and by extension, the site of the murder couldn’t be too far away. We’ll have to ID the victim, and search the scene for any fingerprints, fur, or DNA.”

“Skip the fingerprints. This was a hate crime.”

“We don’t know that. Never assume anything; ask questions and see where the answers take you. Whoever did this was smart or lucky enough to move the victim to a camera deadzone. Can you handle questioning witnesses?”

“Of course I can. You this eager to run me off?”

“It’s your job to do the menial footwork, William. You and your friends might torch the body if you stay too long. I know how your side of the office operates.”

I huffed, inspecting the body despite the dizzying ringing in my ears. Althea shouldn’t speak down to me, while I was doing the dangerous work and gathering testimony. Red splotches were visible on the victim’s legs, though the snarky tech hadn’t pointed that out as a wound; I’d heard that corpses could turn purple, so I assumed this was related to that process. One odd accessory caught my eye, begging a closer look. The victim had a navy blue ring on his middle finger, rather than the traditional digit.

“He’s wearing a ring on his ‘flipping people the bird’ finger. Do you think it means anything?” I questioned.

Althea chuckled. “Colors of Earth on the middle finger. You really don’t know what that symbolizes?”

“That you’re being needlessly confrontational? That I’d like to give you the finger?”

“No. It’s the symbol of allegiance to Humanity First. Could well be the motive for why he was targeted.”

Humanity First. Did some haughty Venlil knock him off for drawing the same logical conclusions I did? Hell, maybe it could be a self-righteous UN type.

I raised my eyebrows. “And how do you know that?”

“It’s not relevant,” she muttered.

“Of course. You are, or maybe were, with them, weren’t you?”

“I have a family member who is. I don’t approve, but I’m not ratting them out. If you want to help ID’ing the victim, HF might be the ones to ask. However, they might not be willing to talk to…us ‘xeno-appeasing scum.’ Especially if you bring your present company along.”

“Just tell me how to find them, and I’ll handle the rest. They might have the info to crack the case wide open. They’d know what this guy was doing that got himself popped.”

“William, what if they’re the ones responsible?”

“I mean, it’s possible, but it doesn’t make sense for them to hit one of their own. They’re about putting humanity’s interests first. They’re not the mob. Now, unless you want an anonymous tip sent to the embassy about your relative, how do I find them?!”

Althea breathed a flustered sigh. “I heard they quietly recruit out of Kaulin’s bar, down in the business district. It’s alien-run, but it was one of the first human-friendly installations. Always a crowd of Earthlings drinking their problems away. Good way to charm, or as I call it, radicalize people. That’s all I know; you’ll have to do some actual detective work. Again, ditch your alien pals or they won’t even look at you.”

“Not a problem. I was meaning to leave the bird behind, on a permanent basis, anyways,” I quipped. “Anyhow, I’m off!”

It was all I could do to prevent a smile from spreading across my face; after researching what Humanity First stood for, I had wished I could get in contact with them. There might be some personal incentives, beyond just hunting down clues for the case. All I had to do was prove that I wasn’t a traitor to my kind, assuming they recognized me, and perhaps they’d welcome a kindred spirit. We had a common belief that Terrans shouldn’t kowtow to cowardly xenos who treated us like monsters. Besides, wouldn’t HF want to avenge one of their own?

Calling them terrorists is ridiculous. That’s the UN discrediting them. They’re people like me, who believe that humanity should be in charge because of our superior culture, and are willing to do what needs to be done.

Rauln bounded up to me, tilting his head with curiosity. “I never thought I’d see a predator vomit from gore. How did your kind ever hunt?”

“We didn’t hunt other humans, Rauln, contrary to common beliefs about our society. You’re under the impression that I see bloated corpses on a daily basis…oh, and that they look so appetizing,” I retorted.

“I mean, you told me you don’t have those instincts, but I didn’t really believe you. Kind of like I don’t believe that you’re not stealing my crunchcakes.”

“Well, I’m not stealing them. You put food in plain sight on a counter in our common area, you clearly want to share. That’s not stealing, it’s accepting generosity. Don’t act like I’m the bad guy.”

“What kind of Sivkit-brained reasoning is that?! They’re not yours! I shouldn’t have to hide my food because the stupid, pasty predator can’t control his appetite!”

“Aw, look who’s prissy today—”

Luala flapped her wings with impatience. “Are you two done? Some of us are trying to work.”

“I don’t see you working,” I snapped. “I see you standing around, scratching your ass.”

“I’m standing around waiting on you to grow up. I’ve been waiting a long time…something tells me that’ll never happen.”

Rauln narrowed his eyes. “I agree that Will’s a disaster, obviously, but the way you’re saying it—you’re being as much of an ass as him, Luala. What’s your problem?”

“After Nam, I’d think you know what it’s like to find out someone isn’t who you thought they were. Will looks down on all of us, you included.”

“Rauln is my little brother, birdie, and I’d protect him over ten of you,” I countered. “You wanna work, so why don’t you fuck off and start questioning witnesses? Your chirpy voice could be put to better use elsewhere.”

“Yeah, it could. Talking to you is a waste of breath.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Luala stomped off in a huff, and I glared at her with unrestrained contempt. After everything the Krakotl had done to Earth, why didn’t I have the right to look down on her species in particular? Why should I take any verbal abuse from aliens I despised from the core of my being? My need to transfer the bird was as strong as Rauln’s desire to avoid contact with Fyron. The scrappy Venlil never failed to remind me of myself, as if he were my actual brother.

I can respect the Venlil more, knowing they weren’t always this pathetic mess. It still doesn’t excuse how they treat humans, but Rauln doesn’t snivel like a lot of his brethren. I can sympathize with why he thinks certain things.

My roommate looked taken aback by Luala and I’s vitriolic exchange, and I ruffled his scruff fur to reassure him. Rauln ducked away, hissing with displeasure. If there was one alien I was protective of, above all others, it was him; the Krakotl had no right to accuse me of harboring condescension toward the goofy teenager. I loved him and was willing to overlook him being a xeno. I’d helped him regain his confidence after Nam stabbed him, and soothed him after the nightmares that plagued him for months.

“She calls me inconsiderate, yet she has the nerve to bring Nam back up to you,” I grumbled. “You okay, buddy?”

Rauln flicked his tail in the affirmative. “Couldn’t be better. I’m not done with the crunchcakes scandal; you’re getting scolded more tonight. Where are we going?”

“I am going to ask if Humanity First knows this fella, ‘cause it looks like they might. You should stay here, make sure Luala doesn’t bungle the witness statements. She might fuck it up just to spite me. I trust her as far as I can throw her.”

“I…I don’t think you should be talking to Humanity First. I know you support them.”

“So?”

“I worry what kind of influence they might have on you. You want to hurt the people who hurt you, and they might direct it in the wrong places. With Derva, I’ve seen how volatile you can be, Will, and I don’t ever want to see you let loose on a Venlil again.”

“That sadistic predator deserved what she got, and it sent a message to the system. Everyone I hurt deserves it. I’m not gonna blow up a school from asking HF a few questions.”

“If you say so…just be careful. I’ve got you covered here.”

The Venlil followed in Luala’s wake, heeding my request to monitor the Krakotl and her interviews. I hustled back to the exterminator truck, and was relieved to find the keys still in the ignition; I didn’t want to have to ask the avian to hand them over. Since joining the exterminators, I’d picked up enough about driving to make it a few blocks. Excitement coursed through my veins, tantalized by the prospect of connecting with Humanity First. After failing to protect my family, or enlist in search of vengeance, standing up for Terran interests would be a way of redeeming myself for my cowardice.

I was interested to hear what the recruiters at Kaulin’s bar had to say about a lot more than the case.

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A/N - Part 2! Will observes the crime scene, while receiving some derision from the CSI techs, and learns that the victim was a member of Humanity First. Rauln's feud with Fyron manages not to interfere; the Venlil expresses concern when he finds out Will is going to seek out Humanity First. What do you expect he'll find at Kaulin's bar? Who do you think left our victim in a dumpster...and do the latest clues give you a new theory?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!