The Nature of Predators - Farsul Abductee (4/8)

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Memory transcription subject: Danny Palmer, Human Law Enforcement

Date [standardized human time]: E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!

Our desire to break out of the facility was sated by the new knowledge that neural decay was an inevitability. I discussed a pact with my fellow humans to monitor each other for symptoms, and report the earliest signs of feeling off. Ingratiating ourselves to the Farsul workers was the only way to prove that we were sapient. Veiq must’ve imparted the idea to be hospitable, because the staffers became more receptive to small talk. Days turned to weeks, working with the aliens to share our knowledge.

Shenanigans occasionally flared up among the Earthling populace, as camaraderie began to grow within our small group. We were bound by this common, unfair experience, and determined to shed light on the positives of our culture. Greg’s penchant for not treating any task as a serious matter wore on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to deny him happiness here. Losing our agency would be akin to death. I didn’t want to see my brother lose his spirit or his flair for troublesome behavior.

“So I got through listing everything I knew about cars. I was telling the dogs how I wanted a Mustang growing up, and how sports cars are slammin’. Gave them the lowdown on the oil crisis, how gas prices went through the roof,” Greg said, as he walked away from the archive chamber’s camera setup.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I wonder if the Farsul even have cars. For all we know, they fly around on spaceships or teleport.”

“I bet they have energy beams that woosh, suck them into the sky! This isn’t an awful gig, you know, but I miss the sunlight. Those sun lamps they have don’t jive with me. It’s like we’re in a zoo.”

“Believe me, I know. If I thought there was anywhere else to go or anyone else to turn to, I’d be looking for an out like Joel. I always felt responsible for you, Greg, and…”

“Close the shades. Nobody’s responsible for me, least of all you! This isn’t how I wanted us to make up, but it’s been nice to have my brother back.”

“Yeah, about what I said on the beach…you’ll always be my brother. It wasn’t right.”

“You trying to say ‘sorry’, Danny? I knew you were just woofin’; it’s all cool. Upside of this is, seeing aliens is mighty stellar. I’m sure you’re over there trying to calculate and analyze, every time you talk to that Veiq girl. I can see it in your eyes.”

The Farsul archivist coughed from beside us. “Did I hear my name?”

“Gah!” Greg sprang an inch off the ground, a petrified expression crossing his face. “Why do you have to sneak up on us?”

“I forget you have no peripheral vision. Other species would see me coming.”

“We don’t have no peripheral vision,” I objected.

“I just wanted to say, what you all have given us the past few days is remarkable. Juliana has taught us so much about human grooming habits, trends, and beauty standards…and how they’ve changed. Aya knows about the education system, thoughts on raising children, and English as a lingua franca. Joel knows a lot about military practices and aviation, even if he’s a bit paranoid.”

“You seem happy, sunshine,” Greg chimed in.

“Well, I love learning about you. Humans are more…complex than I thought. My point was, you two have been so insightful to familial relationships, and also, you’re just fun. You’re willing to step out of your boxes, and cover all sorts of things.”

“I’m just getting started. Tomorrow, I’m gonna tell you about comic books, and…shit, I never told you about bandanas and hippie fashion, did I? I know more about that than Juliana.”

I sighed in frustration. “You do know we’re representing all of humanity, right Greg? And that we’re trying to convince them our diet doesn’t mean we deserve to die?”

“Yeah, so I’m telling her about people for peace, and fun stuff!”

Veiq tilted her head. “I like seeing the different sides of you. All the little details, how you live—it’s like a tapestry that weaves itself. Would you be open to personal interviews?”

“You want to hear about us, as individuals?” I asked.

“Just as you’re analyzing me—I did hear that bit—I’d like to analyze you. It’ll be a way to remember you, how you really were. Maybe a few shots together too, with some light-hearted interactions? Overnight, you could discuss joint activities that would be suitable for the camera.”

“Oh, don’t encourage—”

Greg raised a triumphant fist in the air. “I’ll come up with something perfect, Veiq! Just you wait. I’m gonna steal the show.”

The Farsul stifled a chuckle. “I…look forward to seeing it. Get some rest; I presume you know the way back to your quarters.”

The archivist strolled up, and I thought about our rudimentary conversations during work hours. Veiq had initiated a handful of them, teaching me about the Archives and different galactic cultures. She also discussed her parents and her upbringing; she’d hardly seen either of her parents, since her mother and father were obsessed with their work. There was little I knew about the average Farsul’s day-to-day lives and activities.

“Hey Veiq? What’s your favorite thing about Talsk’s culture?” I called after her.

The alien stopped in her tracks, stiffening her shoulders. “In what way?”

“I mean, if there was one bit the galaxy knew about your civilization, what would you want it to be? What would you want to be remembered by?”

“I don’t know. Let me think about it.” A lengthy pause ensued, as the Farsul swished her tail from side-to-side. She suddenly perked up, and swiveled around. “Well, as the galaxy’s leading archaeologists, we have artifacts from all over the known universe. On Founders’ Day…a holiday celebrating our commitment to assimilating all cultures…every major city, the ones large enough for a full council of elders, sets out a massive display of artifacts. Some pieces have been in our possession for centuries.”

“That’s fascinating. Why did you pick that?”

“Every resident in each major town pitches in to ready the showcase, and we get visitors from across the galaxy. We help them digest their own history in a way that’s palatable and concise. I remember being told to handle parchment fragments with care, and polishing cases. That was the one day a year I got to spend with Mom. And…I wish you could see the celebration, Danny.”

Veiq darted off, before any supplemental questions could be lobbed at her. Leaving her reply on such an emotional note suggested that she was starting to like me. A faint smile spread across my face; I hadn’t been certain I could make the Farsul partial to me as an individual. Perhaps there had been some success on that front. Turning back toward the dormitories, I conferred with Greg about what we could say on camera. My brother needed coaching not to make a fool of himself, and possibly undo my progress in the process.

---

“We’ll do a short interview of both of you, followed by filming your interactions together. You’ll do great, Danny.” Veiq pressed a button to turn her video camera on, and I tried to relax my nerves. The new day in the Archives had rolled around too quickly; I felt like I was on trial. “Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

I scratched my neck in a self-soothing gesture. “I’m an FBI agent. I sort data to brief my superiors, so they can create plans to limit criminal activities. Ever since I was a kid, I loved reading—everything from fantasy fiction to technical magazines. Words and visuals just click with my brain. This job was a respectable application of my skillset; I thought I was a model employee. I always wanted to move up, and secure the American dream.”

“American dream?”

“It’s an idea that anyone, no matter who you are, can achieve great things through dedication. It’s a concept that always motivated people in my country, regardless of whether it was true. We’re one of the younger nations on Earth, so we have an unusually proud and patriotic, uh, dialogue about ourselves. Sorry…I just thought I could reap the fruits of hard work. That I could make my parents proud.”

“So that’s what drives you? It sounds like you’re living someone else’s dream.”

“No, it’s not like that. I couldn’t tell you what drives me, beyond a vague desire to settle down and start a family. That’s not happening now or ever, I suppose. A lot of people would say I’m straight-edged, but I’d say I work well within systems. I go to work for reasons beyond making friends…more interested in climbing the corporate ladder than the social one. I keep my head down and I give everything my all.”

“Not to enact my own judgment, but I’ve found you to be social during our work here. It seems odd to think you wouldn’t seek out human friendships back home.”

Plenty of people think I’m odd, just because they do the bare minimum and stand around like social butterflies on the clock. Am I the weird one? I like working, and I don’t care for inane chatter.

“I have friends, just outside of work. This place is different—I’m confused and have no social network, nothing recognizable, here,” I explained, after some hesitation. “It’s not a rigid job; it’s a flexible task I’m doing as a volunteer. Maybe it’s that I don’t want to be alone, or that I’m trying to figure things out. Maybe it’s that I’m not used to a lack of strict rules hovering over me; everything had to be perfect with my father. He preached that American dream spiel.”

“How did your father enforce that standard of perfection?”

“He pushed me harder than Greg. Said it was, ‘Because I was capable of it.’ It felt like no matter what I achieved, it fell short of his expectations.”

“I see. Perhaps this is why you resent Greg’s lackadaisical lifestyle—because of the double standards. Is that a fair assessment?”

“Greg told you that I resent him? Sure, I guess; he never had to take anything seriously. He never cared who he disappointed, where I felt the sting all the way!”

“I didn’t mean to upset—”

“This feels like an interrogation, Veiq. Hey, are you trying to trip me up?”

The Farsul archivist hovered a claw over the camera. “That’ll do for now. I’ll record your life story chronologically down the line. Would you send Greg over? I’ll summon you when it’s time for your shot together.”

I huffed, crossing my arms with contempt. My brother aired our personal grievances when representing humanity, to aliens that thought we were aggressive monstrosities. Broadcasting our dirty laundry would’ve been unacceptable even outside this context. Trying to have the memory of a goldfish, I whispered for him to head toward the camera. Hopefully, I could forget his loose-lipped disclosure before our joint interactions; showing future viewers that Earthlings could be fun and innocent was more important than my feelings.

---

“Alright, I’m ready when you are.” Veiq eyed us skeptically, as she began recording the dual shot at the end of the day. “Is there a reason you asked for a table to be brought in? If you’re tired of standing, you know about the multitude of chairs already in here.”

Greg issued a devious grin. “You’ll see. You’re going down, Danny!”

“Ha. I could kick your ass in my sleep,” I retorted.

The Farsul archivist recoiled with horror. “Oh no. Please don’t tell me you’re planning to fight!”

“Don’t worry, sunshine,” my brother purred. “We’re doing a civilized contest of strength and masculinity.”

It was all I could to do to avoid snorting, as the thin hippie planted his elbow on the table. I extended my corresponding hand, and slipped it into his with a locked arm position. Veiq looked beyond mystified, as Greg narrowed his eyes at me. We’d arm wrestled often as kids, though my strength outpaced his these days. My brother pushed against my wrist, straining with all his might to shove it to the table. I barely exerted myself, doing the bare minimum to resist his force.

This is too easy. He’s lucky we’re not betting on this, like I would’ve insisted back on Earth.

Greg gritted his teeth, while taut muscles bulged in his reddened face. I winked at Veiq, flashing a coy smile. Once I applied a slight pressure in return, it proved easy to bring his arm onto the table. The other humans were spectating our contest; they cheered like I’d just won the World Series, and stamped on the metal floor. I couldn’t help but laugh, seeing my brother pout at the camera. He spat accusations of cheating at me, demanding a redo.

The Farsul archivist observed us humans’ behavior with an increasingly puzzled expression. Eventually, she snickered at the raucous absurdity, and switched the camera off. The aliens did have a sense of humor, it seemed.

---

Time was breezing by, week after week; without any outside contact, I began to lose track of how long it had been. Veiq didn’t look the least bit scared of me anymore, even brightening up when I arrived to start the day’s work. Seeing the Farsul’s joy when I showed up was part of what encouraged me to aid their project. It warmed my heart to see someone taking an interest in the mundane aspects of my life. We’d begun to get to know each other, and I noticed many commonalities in our dedication to our work.

The alien staff still congregated at their own table during mealtimes, but I was determined to break the bubble. Rushing to gather my breakfast food, an assortment of berries and whole grains, I waited for Veiq to collect her own meal. My footsteps were quiet, as I tailed behind the archivist. A slight pang of guilt stabbed at my chest; I wasn’t sure it was ethical to get too close to her. Her people warned her not to grow attached to a human, perhaps because we were bound to die.

I don’t want to hurt Veiq, but if I’m going to meet my maker here, I’d want an alien friend. I do want her to care about humans, and to see us for what we are.

The Farsul sat down in her usual spot at the end of the table. Rather than allowing her coworker to slide onto the bench next to her, I slung my legs over the adjacent seat. Every alien at the table gawked at me, while I dug into my food like nothing was unusual. A few staffers moved to a separate table, though my chosen target made no attempt to leave. She merely stared at me with narrowed eyes.

“What are you doing?” Veiq hissed.

I feigned an oblivious look. “We’ve known each other long enough that we’re definitely friends. We should eat together.”

“Danny, I don’t think that’s a good idea, for me to be anywhere near you while you’re thinking about eating.”

I stopped mid-bite. “You genuinely think, after all this time, that I want to eat you? When has a human ever done that?”

“Never. I just…”

“Great, then we both agree I’m not a threat, so I think I’ll stay. No more talking about parents, career paths, or life goals. Let’s talk about things we’re interested in.”

“I…fine. Have I ever told you about the history of the Federation? I said it’s a galactic forum for any peaceful species, but I don’t think I went beyond that. It just fascinates me to think about how many worlds our organization has uplifted! The first species we met was the Krakotl—”

“The bird species?” I confirmed.

“Correct. I worked on their exhibits back in the public Archives…not that the entirety of first contact is covered there. Long story. I was a little disappointed I wasn’t assigned to their historical preservation here, not to say I don’t like working with you, Danny. I did accept this job at great personal risk. Anyhow, the Krakotl were very aggressive, so we asked them to sign onto some reforms in order to maintain galactic stability.”

“You told me that humanity was ‘staggeringly aggressive.’ Better or worse than the Krakotl?”

“You both have high designations on the ‘resistance to civilization-compatible behavior’ scale. From what I’ve seen, you humans do worse things, but the Krakotl are more likely to try to intimidate people. You’ve been quite polite…much of your ranking is from your violent culture, and all recorded behavior after the disease runs its course.”

“Right. What do you find special about the Krakotl then, Veiq?”

Please don’t tell me it’s just their aggression. It’s bad enough to have that pejorative looming over my species.

“There’s so many interesting quirks about their culture! They build their stilt-towers that can be entered from above, with a hatch that they can fly through.” Veiq’s eyes sparkled. “They were spacefaring on their own too; they were incentivized to look into aviation early, since it would help them fly long-distances. Ooh, and Krakotl flock together when taking to the skies outside cities. It protects them from predators, since the flock’s motions make it difficult to target a single prey.”

The Farsul’s face was glowing with delight; I could hear the passion and enthusiasm swelling through her voice. It reminded me of how I sounded, when discussing the plot of my favorite book. No wonder the archivist was willing to risk her life, from her vantage point signing the waiver, to learn more about humans. There was no question the alien had found her calling, studying other species’ history.

It was almost adorable, to see her rattling off information like she was racing against a clock. Perhaps, in my efforts to win over Veiq, I’d grown a bit fond of her myself.

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A/N - Part 4 is here! With the passing of time, Veiq warms to Danny and divulges some cultural tidbits; Danny and Greg also shares their life stories with the Archives...with a little arm wrestling thrown in. Will this "friendship" lead to tremendous heartache or fallout as the disease progresses? Has Danny convinced Veiq that humans aren't evil once and for all?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! 5 is a dramatic, emotional, highly experimental chapter that all of this has been building towards; you don't want to miss it!