The Nature of Predators - Cilany's Adventures (4/7)

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Memory transcription subject: Cilany, Harchen Reporter

Date [standardized human time]: December 1, 2136

The park was packed all the way to the gate, where a queue of predators waited for entry. The Terran visitors ranged in age, and it didn’t take long for pointing and head swivels to occur. Lars didn’t bat an eye, waving to the onlookers as though the attention was meant for him. The blond human was relishing the binocular gazes on us, much more than I was.

The attractions that greeted us stretched dozens of meters into the cerulean sky; they were breathtaking and horrifying. I heard the piercing screams and trundling of rail carts long before I understood where they were coming from. The human shrieks seemed to drill through my skull, in  headache-inducing fashion. What was happening to make the predators so afraid? Had the Arxur decided to raid planet Earth?

Lars coaxed me to an optimal vantage point, where the screams seemed to be approaching us. I moved closer to my tour guide for comfort, and struggled to interpret my surroundings. The track, which was similar to ones I’d seen Terrans riding in the distance, not only reached nauseating heights, but also twisted so that passing cars would flip upside-down. Was I hallucinating? People wouldn’t come here willingly if they knew the ride was meant to plunge them to their deaths.

An elongated cart hurtled toward us at breakneck speeds, and the oblivious riders were grinning from ear-to-ear. Many were enjoying the acceleration, raising their flimsy arms above their head. I felt sick, watching the incoming disaster. Despite my fear toward the Terrans, I didn’t want to see them splatter on the pavement in front of me.

I pointed frantically. “Do something! You have to stop the ride! They’re gonna fall off, and die.”

“Nah,” Lars chuckled. “Haven’t you heard? Humans don’t take fall damage!”

“What? I don’t know if this is some kind of joke, but I didn’t come here to see civilians die! Is this what you want to be reported about your society?”

“I’m giving you shit. Don’t worry, everything’s cool. This is what a roller coaster is.”

The ride rocketed up a track, and crested t the ascent toward the fatal loop. The eardrum-bursting screams grew louder, as the Terrans realized they were on a death trap. I couldn’t imagine what predator had designed this, meaning to lure human children to a swift death…for their amusement. The name “amusement park” suddenly took on a sick, twisted meaning. If they’d kill their own for giggles, I didn’t know how goofy Lars could vouch for my safety here.

He seemed empathetic during the car ride, but now, death happening in front of us is a joke to him. I see why Emergency Order 56 banned such heartless contraptions from being discussed.

My eyes were glued to it though, in the way a reporter was trained to observe any disaster. I cringed, as the ride turned on itself in a dizzying motion. The predators defied gravity, dangling from the cart for a fraction of a second. The car reoriented itself, but didn’t let up for a second. It launched into a drop straight down, sending the humans rushing toward the ground in a near free fall. They had to be going faster than an average road vehicle, while exposed to open air! I was surprised none of the Terrans vomited from the sudden descent.

Lars was beaming, a look that imparted, “Told you so.” I brought out my notepad in stupefied silence, clueless as to what determination I should draw on this activity. Perhaps I’d misinterpreted a torture chamber for a death trap; it could be intended to inflict trauma on the passengers. The amusement could be part of a Terran’s base desire for others’ suffering; therefore, they were whimsical at the prospect of seeing peers be afraid, in the face of simulated danger?

“Explain. Just…why?” I whispered.

The human bobbed his shoulders. “I wouldn’t expect you Feddies to understand, since you hate being afraid. But for us, I don’t know, adrenaline and danger makes us feel alive. We do plenty of activities to induce fear, and willingly shove scary stuff in our faces, for fun.”

“That makes no sense. Fear is a negative sensation. It causes physical discomfort, and clouds your judgment.”

“Yeah, totally agree. It’s about the thrill. The rush.”

“…so it falls under this Order 56 because it’s a dangerous activity?”

“I’d assume so; they didn’t mention coasters by name, just ‘fear-inducing entertainment’ in general, so I have wiggle room. Maybe they think it comes across as mocking your instincts, or you wouldn’t see it as anything but negative because of the fear element? And who knows…it’s possible the reason we like thrills traces back to the thrill of the chase…back to hunting. Same chemical is released, I think. Anything that has a chance of bringing that up, they don’t like it.”

“You’re trying to release hunting chemicals in your children?! Are…those people going to chase me, while they’re in that s-state?”

“Nobody wants to eat you. Gosh, you’re like Wilen. First question about my dentist job was if any patient tried to eat my hand. If flesh is in a human’s mouth, we just lose all control!”

“Don’t mock me. You just said this ride was to simulate the sensation of hunting.”

“The good feeling of it, not the act. We’re not mindless beasts who lose control. I feel…I think…I choose what I do and I have reasons for why I do it. Don’t demean me by treating humanity like a wild animal.”

Lars’ blue eyes looked a little deflated, and the whimsical grin was long gone. Even realizing that he was a predator I barely knew, it was difficult to register him as a threat. My mind had labeled him an oversized child with forward-facing eyes. It was important to take an honest inventory of my surroundings, out of fairness for him. I was immersed in a sea of Terrans, and none had taken any aggressive actions toward me. There was no Federation reference for what “hunting chemicals” felt like, besides the vague notion of bloodlust. All fears of a human attack were unfounded, based on propaganda with no scientific backing.

My job was to determine the truth about humanity, not to propagate falsehoods. Perhaps Terrans entered a state of heightened awareness, or it made them feel in control of their lives. If Lars viewed it as fun and games for kids, then maybe I should chalk it up as just that. Prying behind the curtains of UN restrictions meant encountering dangerous events, from a culture that was fundamentally different. No journalist should label a society as evil, when there was no proof the actions caused any harm.

What I can concretely include in my article is that fear chemicals can be a positive experience for humans. It explains their behavior here, and may be due to predator physiology.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause offense, but it’s tough for me to understand,” I offered.

Lars’ eyes flashed with mischief. “All good. Best way to learn is through doing! We’re gonna put you on it, for the firsthand experience.”

“No fucking way. I’m not doing that, not a chance.” I wouldn’t want to be wedged between screaming Terrans, while feeling like I’m going to die. “I’m sorry that you wasted your currency, but I have zero interest in doing that. Watching is stressful enough.”

“I’ll go with you. We’ll overcome it! That’s what humans do. We take on challenges, and we do things that are hard, because they’re hard.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not human. I said I don’t want to.”

“Okay, okay. Why don’t we go up to the line, and you can talk to some people? If you don’t feel brave enough by the time we get there, we’ll bow out.”

“Cilany won’t pass the height requirements, dipshit.” A suited man, who had the look of one of Zhao’s stalker guards, materialized behind us. “It’d be dangerous for her, with a good chance she’d fall out of the harness. Also, for the love of God, don’t push her to do things she doesn’t want to.”

Lars shriveled away from the stranger. “Oh shit. Big brother’s watching you. Okay, okay, no coasters. Just the entertainment and the Ferris wheel. That’s cool, right? Don’t arrest me or nothing, please.”

The likely-UN employee stalked off with a scoff, and it seemed clear he’d still be keeping an eye on us. I was relieved by his intercession, which stopped Lars from pressuring me into the queue. The Secretary-General wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt me, even if the adrenaline rush did set a random human off. I followed Mr. Isaksson with less tension, and mulled over questions to ask him. His commentary on challenges caught my attention.

“What sort of real-world challenges do humans take on?” I asked. “An illusory danger doesn’t seem difficult enough to be an accomplishment.”

Lars pursed his lips. “Someone tells us we can’t do something, we want to do it. FTL was impossible, so we worked our asses off to bring it from science fiction to science reality. Humans…feel it’s our destiny, to push as far as we can go, both individually and as a species. This is our planet, our system, and we’ll be damned if anything stands in the way of progress. No environment or hardship is too extreme to deter us.”

“Environment? Do you mean how you settled all climates? I’ve heard you have polar research stations, similar to how the bravest Venlil use vacuum suits to visit the untamed night side of their world.”

“I mean, sure, we had expeditions to the poles. But you know how I said earlier, we see a mountain, and we climb it ‘cause it’s there? The highest peak on our world is called Mount Everest. Thousands of humans go every year, just to say they scaled it. Do you know how dangerous it is?”

“Let me guess. Unreasonably so?”

“Yep. There’s an area so high up, it’s literally called the death zone. They don’t even retrieve the bodies, because the conditions are too extreme and the effort’s too intense to bring them down. Oxygen is so limited that your cells begin to die, and you can’t replenish your breath faster than you use it. Hundreds of us have died making the trek, through altitude illness, falls, or hazards. If humans are dying of exhaustion, after climbing for days, other species don’t stand a chance of such feats.”

“Climbing for days…up an entire mountain? Stop messing with me. That’s not physically possible.”

“I’ll just break it to you flat out: humans’ specialty is endurance. We’re adapted to run in hot weather, and if you don’t believe me, look up marathons. The world record for how far one of us has run, non-stop, is like 80 hours straight, if I recall correctly.”

I stopped in my tracks, inspecting Lars with suspicion. He’d been following a park map on his holopad, navigating away from the dreadful coasters. My legs were beginning to ache, but the human’s forehead was barely damp with perspiration. I’d chalked that up to him being fit and having longer legs than me; now that I focused on it, I realized few other species wouldn’t be slightly winded. Their shaven skin suddenly had a more menacing purpose than just making them look squishy.

It’s coming together. Simulating the thrill of the chase…being able to run for hours without growing bored…oh no. They are far worse than I even thought; that is diabolical.

The Terrans performed arduous stunts because it was hardwired into them; this might be conclusive proof that latent instincts lingered. It was too absurd of a statement for Lars to be making it up with a straight face, though I suppose I was grateful for his honesty. Now that I’d identified this elusive drive, I must determine how pervasive it was in Earth’s culture. My promise to uncover the truth about humanity was more important than ever; the galaxy needed to know the full scope of what they were.

“You good, Cilany?” Lars asked.

I drew a shaky breath. “Still processing that.”

“If it makes you feel any better, most modern humans lead a very sedentary life. I’m too lazy to get off the couch on the weekends, and I’m pretty in shape.”

The Terran cautiously herded me toward a line, and I attempted to reorient myself. The more information I could gather for my story, reflecting both sides of the issue, the better. My gaze focused on a stage in the distance, where I could see human musicians cranking out live tunes. Predators gathered to listen and dance with their lanky bodies; their affinity for the artistic realm was clear. I believed that they’d come to the stars in peace, and that Lars and the broader government wished me no harm. Nobody said learning the hidden side of them would be easy.

“I need to do my own research and thinking, but I’ll ask you more about this later,” I said.

Lars nodded. “Sure! Remember, it’s more about carrying on and surviving, than anything blood and guts. You feel me?”

“Your odds during the Krakotl-led raid were hopeless, yet you persisted.”

“We believed we’d make it, some way, somehow. With enough willpower, you can do anything you put your mind to. Even if we didn’t win, we were gonna make them fight us to our last breaths. This is our home! Giving up is not in our fucking evolution.”

“I suppose I can see the non-predatory benefits of being able to keep going, past the point of pain and exhaustion. I will give what you said fair consideration.”

“I knew you’d get it! Do think it over with an open mind, but right now, just relax. When we’re up on the Ferris wheel, shut your brain off and enjoy the sights. I promise, it’s super tame and slow. Maybe you’ll come to think of Earth as beautiful, not just some monstrous land that birthed us.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know, but you thought it. I might seem like a goober; I do pick up on shit though. It’s okay. We’ll love you ‘til you love us back.”

Knowing the human had seen through me already, I opted not to argue with his assumption. Lars had been kinder than I deserved, not to mention his instrumental role in my investigation. My eyes followed his frosty gaze, which was aligned with a massive wheel with carriages that were rotating in glacial fashion. After a quiet wait, we shuffled to the front of the line. This ride was more tranquil than the roller coasters, but it still transported a passenger to a towering height.

In the background, Terran music told stories of deep emotions, evoking passion that transcended what a predator should be capable of. I stepped into the carriage, and found myself sandwiched right next to Lars. The human’s snarl didn’t convey a threat anymore. My muscles relaxed as we glided into the air. Pinkness bathed the horizon, and light from Sol’s sinking fireball washed over the sprawling complex. The predators didn’t look like fiends of endurance from above; they were small dots winding through artificial paths. From our vantage point, everything seemed like a figurine on a grand stage.

Tears welled in my eyes, along with a shiver down my spine. My guide had been right: Earth was alive and beautiful. Lars leaned back on the bench, and gestured for me to scoot closer. The splendor of the vista compelled me to obey, tilting my head into his sturdy chest. Warmth radiated beneath his jacket, and to my surprise, my fear was manageable. He gasped in amazement, as I changed my skin to the same navy blue as his sleeves; it felt like a way to blend in. I’d often wondered how Venlil exchange participants could cozy up to a predator, heaping themselves into their personal space. Now, I understood how comforting a Terran’s presence—their strength—could be.

“I wish I could capture this feeling, and bottle it up forever. You humans do such perilous, shocking, and risky things, then you build something so beautiful right next to it,” I whispered.

Lars chuckled. “Ferris wheels are a winner then. But, on the topic of contradiction, I guess that gives you a title for your article. The duality of man. Beauty in one hand, chaos in the other.”

“That concept is part of it. I still feel like I’m missing a lot of the puzzle, though.”

“You’re missing living in the moment, Cilany. You can’t always understand everything, and tie it up into a neat little story.”

The wheel was drifting back down toward the earth, but I decided not to separate myself from the predator. Trust clicked back into place, resolute in my belief that Lars was benevolent. Humans were strange creatures, who had yet to amount to the threats that their genetic makeup heralded. Every new revelation about their kind brought alarm, but there was unexpected altruism even in the untamed. The predators’ culture really was a dichotomy between the serene and the savage, just as my guide suggested.

I want to see Earth’s darker side the way he puts it, with a candid yet generous interpretation. His optimism is unfailing; it’s contagious.

I yawned. “Maybe I can never understand you. But I’ll try to get as close as possible.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Lars growled. “Let’s explore a few of the tamer attractions and the entertainment, and then I’ll let you crash at my place, yeah?”

“Sounds good, TheZurulianAddict12.”

The Terran helped me disembark the ride with a hearty laugh, and we wandered off to finish the day’s exploration. Something told me this park was only the first item on the United Nations’ prohibited list that Lars would show me. My article was shaping up to be a hard-hitting piece, which, with the right delivery, might have an impact on the galaxy’s perception of humans.

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A/N - Part 4 is here! Cilany reacts to roller coasters, and learns a bit about other human thrill-seeking behaviors and their origins. What will Lars have in store for her next? How are you enjoying her fledgling bond with our Swedish friend?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!