The Nature of Predators - Predator Disease (3/8)

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Memory transcription subject: Bonsen, Predator Disease Patient

Date [standardized human time]: December 20, 2136

The predators were reading my chart when I woke up, which gave me a glimmer of hope. Maybe they considered me as one of their own, if they saw the clear proof of my disease. After trying to prove for years that I didn’t have predator disease, I was suddenly singing the opposite tune in the humans’ presence. It had been beautiful to see Venlil Prime, and to confirm that the cities were still standing.

Bahri proclaimed that I had something called “ADHD”, which caught my ears. My translator implant was confused for several seconds, and I expected the phrase to be untranslatable. It decided on impressing the meaning as a specific form of predator disease; I deflated in my seat, even though I should be happy the humans drew that conclusion. Aqil and Paulo seemed surprised, as if they hadn’t expected a prey animal to share their flawed minds.

Paulo pressed a hand to its forehead. “My God. I have ADHD.”

“This A-D-H-D…is a w-word for predator disease?” I prompted.

My parents were right to stop visiting me, and the doctors were right to lock me up. I don’t want to be born broken! I just wanted to live a normal life, go outside, and be with my friends! You can’t win by socializing in the facility. Either you’re socializing with someone very sick, and that means you’re extra sick too, or you’re not socializing enough.

Bahri crashed the bones of two fingers against each other, snapping me out of my thoughts. “It’s not predator disease. It’s not any bleak, dire outlook that makes you a monster. It’s called attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, and it entails difficulty with motivation and attention. I’m highly concerned, given how common it is in our own society, and what this means for untreated mental conditions across the board.”

“If the Venlil found out about my diagnosis, would they lock me up? We have to be careful with any neurodivergent humans stationed here…or anywhere else!” Paulo had odd shadows beneath its eyes, which made its skin seem like it was rotting. “Do you think it’s like this everywhere, Kiara?”

“I believe so. I spoke with a Gojid client, who detailed that ‘predator disease’ treatments included mind-altering drugs, sterilization, and electroshock therapy. Seeing it in person—you know, I assumed that they would sedate the poor people at least! We still use electroshock as a voluntary last-resort, but it’s done to a single part of the brain, with sedation!”

Voluntary? Humans choose to have that done to them?! They’re psychotic murder beasts, why would they even need to treat conditions? I don’t know what neurodivergent means, but it sounds like they have lots of words for predator disease. That means they must have lots of people with predator disease…

The supposed doctor’s voice was growing more emotional by the minute; its hands were curled into fists. Aqil hadn’t spoken a word, merely steaming in silence. There was no telling what an angry predator could do in the heat of the moment. I didn’t know why they were upset, but I knew that it had to do with me. Should I try to draw common ground with a predator, knowing that it would dig my own grave with Derva?

Maybe it could relate to my symptoms. The idea of having someone understand me and not cower in fear felt wonderful, but it was soured by the fact that “person” was a binocular-eyed predator. I’d just watched the self-proclaimed predator disease patient get into a stand-off with the other male! The aggression had manifested in its behavior.

With quivering ears, I focused on Paulo. “Y-you have this ADHD? I…w-wonder if you understand, er, w-what it’s like.”

“I do. I get bored at the drop of the hat, I fucking hate waiting in lines, and God help me if I need to sit still. Finishing projects is difficult, between chronic procrastination and the many distractions of my digital life.” The human’s pupils darted around, before it shifted in its seat with realization. “Oh, and listening to what people say; that’s a lifelong challenge. I try really hard not to interrupt, but it wasn’t so easy when I was a kid.”

Wow. That sounds like what I go through, to a tee. Paulo is lucky to have been born a predator, so its packmates aren’t afraid of it. Do I wish that I was born a predator? No, then, I’d eat flesh—these things eat flesh, don’t forget! I shouldn’t relate to it more than any of my peers!

“Um, okay. T-that all sounds familiar.” Too familiar. “I don’t know if you think it’s a p-problem, but…how do you m-manage it?”

“What, ADHD? Well, I take medication, every day,” the predator said. “It’s been helpful. I’d call it like taking the speed of thought down a few notches, you know? You and I, we can’t help it; there’s nothing wrong with needing something to calm you over.”

Bahri tried to soften its scowl. “Bonsen, I don’t think that your struggles are anything that couldn’t be solved with proper medication. You told Paulo his story sounded familiar. Would you like to discuss your experiences? This is a judgment-free environment.”

Of course it’s judgment-free. Their entire species slaughters animals! It’d be rich to call me out for drifting. I know you want to belong, Bonsen, but you don’t want to belong with them. These are monsters.

“Someone must’ve reported me, after I fell asleep during a math lesson. Maybe it was a student, maybe it was a teacher. The teachers said I was a problem.” My ears twitched with surprise, as I didn’t understand why the words tumbled from my mouth. Every bone in my body hated these humans, but it’d also been so long since I received any affection or verbal empathy. “The exterminators investigated, and t-there were enough extraneous behavior identifiers. They grabbed me, w-with flamethrowers inches from my head…I screamed for h-help, but nobody would listen…”

The lump in my throat proved impossible to swallow, and I burst into tears. The predators had comforted me before; their warm touch had been soothing, until I realized what they were. As I spilled my pain to them, they didn’t pounce on my weakness. Their faces contorted with what seemed to be sympathy, and I couldn’t comprehend that reaction. This meltdown was preylike weakness, plain and simple.

Paulo stiffened. “That’s horrible! Your parents just let them take you?”

Mucus streamed from my nose. “Y-yes.”

“Would you like a hug, sweetheart?” Bahri asked, hesitantly.

“Yes.”

The human “doctor” seemed almost relieved, as it reached out with delicate hands. It consoled me once again, demonstrating remarkable patience; it felt wonderful not to be an untouchable pariah. This predator could somehow massage stress away, enveloping me with protection. If they were truly friends with the Zurulian government, this must be how they accomplished it.

Paulo reached out to tickle my ears, throaty laughter booming from its throat. Its teeth flashed on full display, and the growling sounds of its chuckles also contradicted my translator’s implied happy mood. I shied away from it at first, but the claw scratches felt…nice. Even Aqil, whose expression had been darkening, relaxed a little.

Their behavior makes no sense if they want to kill us. What could they possibly gain from this? Do they truly understand what these words they toss around, like friendship, mean? Maybe they just picked up hugs from the emotional Venlil, and they’re trying to imitate it.

The moment was ruined by an insistent growl from my stomach, which was unsatisfied by the meager squares at the facility. I pinned my ears back in shame. That was going to remind the humans of their own appetite; it was obvious they’d heard that gurgle. I was famished, but I could ignore the pangs if it meant they’d forget about food.

“Aw, she’s hungry! I’m starving too,” Paulo declared, causing me to stiffen in horror. “Let’s go get some grub together.”

Bahri sighed. “We need to head back to our ship.”

“It can wait a few minutes! I heard there’s human street vendors here. You want some greasy, soul food, right? Besides, Bonsen should be taken care of.”

“Fine. We’ll share one meal together, quickly, and we’re not causing any more trouble…Aqil.”

The thought of watching the predators hunt down an animal killed my appetite in an instant. Even if they weren’t eating me, the last thing I wanted was to dine with them. After all, there had to be a way Bahri got the bloody stains on its lips. I tried to think of a polite way to decline their offer of food, but the ability to speak had eluded me for once.

“I’m fine, Kiara,” Aqil growled. “Just pissed off.”

Paulo’s snarl widened. “Better to be pissed off than pissed on.”

“True that. Eh, and I guess I’m a little hangry too. Would kill for a taste of home.”

Kill for?

“H-hangry?” I echoed, ignoring the latter word for the untranslated one.

Aqil bobbed its head. “You know. Hungry and angry about it?”

That was a horrifying statement…they had a single word for such an emotion? That anger was not something that encouraged my curiosity; I decided I should not be within a hundred-meter radius of them at mealtimes. This situation was spiraling out of control in a hurry. All of the humans but Bahri had professed hunger, which settled all doubts about whether I’d jostled their appetites.

I resigned myself to the traumatic experience of watching their hunting in action, and seeing their faces chin-deep in a carcass. This meal was likely going to end with me winding up as part of the main course.

Memory transcription subject: Dr. Kiara Bahri, Human Psychologist

Date [standardized human time]: December 20, 2136

I waited with Bonsen at a table, as Aqil and Paulo stood in line for a taco truck. Humans had been quick to mix popular cuisines with alien vegetables, creating fascinating new concoctions. The Zurulian was shaking in my lap, and seemed as terrified as when she first looked at me. Was it because we were bringing back food? Sovlin had detailed the aliens’ views on how we handled hunger, as if we barely resisted “bloodlust.”

Words like that made me want to roll my eyes at times, but I was a seasoned therapist; that was never an appropriate reaction. I couldn’t imagine how Bonsen was feeling, and while I didn’t know exact Zurulian ages, I got the distinct impression that she was a child. Extending just my pointer finger, I brushed it along her fluffy cheek. Her shaking intensified, and she squealed. I withdrew my hand, but realized her fear was due to Aqil and Paulo’s return.

Aqil had fallen into a brooding silence after the revelation, and it hadn’t escaped my memory that something less-than-scrupulous had happened with him during the fog of war. The last thing we needed was for things to get “hot on the ground” in the middle of Venlil Prime. The two soldiers were distracted by the warm food cartons now, which they were juggling in their muscular arms. Smoke wafted up from the neatly-arranged tacos, a tantalizing scent that tickled my nostrils.

Can Bonsen eat three tacos? That’s a human-sized portion, but I’m sure the boys will be happy to have seconds if she doesn’t.

Paulo placed two plates by us, and I eased Bonsen away to sit on her own. Inspecting the soft flour tortillas, crisply-fried cauliflower nuggets were resting within the shells. Michin beans, a Venlil crop, had been used in place of black beans; it provided a sweet flavor, rather than an earthy one. Alkaine lined the bottom, adding healthy greens with crunch. I had a feeling those items would become staples in various human dishes, assuming our society existed after the war. Not to be bleak, but that was hardly a guarantee.

Pickled onions were also snuck inside the tortillas, which offered a bit of tang. A drizzle of a creamy sauce rested on top of the cauliflower. If a human had a food license on Venlil Prime, that had to be vegan, so I didn’t concern myself with whether Bonsen could consume it. I palmed a tortilla, and took a hearty bite to sample it.

It was fresh, warm, and smoky; it melted in my mouth with decadent flavor. Aqil and Paulo seemed similarly impressed with the street food, as they devoured their first taco in record time. I tried to maintain more dignity than them, given that they were sucking the grease off their fingers. Decorum wasn’t that important, but I didn’t want our Zurulian friend thinking we couldn’t control ourselves.

Bonsen hadn’t even touched her tacos, as she balanced her forepaws on the table. Her eyes had stretched wide, and she stared at me with what seemed to be shock. I turned my attention to her, chewing slowly. The Zurulian pulled down one side of her own tacos, inspecting the contents as if checking for something.

“You eat plants. That explains so much. You eat plants.” A tentative claw peeled the breading off the cauliflower, before Bonsen visibly relaxed. She chuckled with incredulity. “I am so sorry. I…I’ve been mentally using ‘it’ to describe you; I didn’t realize you were genuine sapients. I thought you were predators…you look, act, and sound just like one.”

The Zurulian wagged her tail with happiness, and tore into her own tacos. Her face brightened even further, as she hummed in appreciation of the food. Paulo bore a crestfallen expression, and started to open his mouth as if to inform her we were predators. Apex predators. I shook my head at the Brazilian soldier. If this belief made Bonsen more comfortable and improved her sense of safety, it went against her best interests to inform her of our true nature at this time.

“We get that a lot,” I decided to offer. “We’re…an anomalous species. We don’t fit into a cookie-cutter category. Our evolution is a complicated matter, which I don’t think you need to concern yourself with.”

Aqil appeared to concur with my opinion. “How is your food, Bonsen?”

“It’s delicious! Thank you for this.” The tiny Zurulian had gone through an entire taco, despite her diminutive size. Perhaps she could finish the full helping. “I’ve only had those nasty squares at the facility for years. It’s like chewing on paper! I’m not sure why you heated the vegetables, but I can’t get enough of it. Oh, are these plants from your homeworld?”

Bonsen talks a mile a minute. It’s actually adorable.

“The cauliflower, the tortillas, the pickled onions, and the cilantro crema are,” the Malaysian soldier replied. “Humans are crafty with food. You’d like some of our dishes on Earth!”

“Do you make food like this, Aqil?” the Zurulian asked.

“Me personally? No, but I consider myself a foodie. Culinary crafting is an art form, from the plating, the seasoning, the ambience, and even the love that goes into it.”

“I guess it is pretty, with all the colors and the mixing-and-matching. Much more enticing than the animal I thought you were going to pick apart. Knowing that humans just look evil, I see why the Federation tolerates you.”

Paulo nearly choked on his food. “Ack…they most…certainly do not.”

Bonsen glanced up from her taco. “What do you mean?”

“They bombed our homeworld, because they hate us. Humanity barely survived; that’s why we’re here, as refugees. My…my boyfriend was killed in the blasts, and…I’m still grieving. It’s all a wicked pain that doesn’t let up. We fought the hateful fucks in orbit, knowing our civilization was on the line, and it wasn’t enough. We weren’t enough.”

The Brazilian turned his face away, as tears swelled. He’d suddenly lost interest in his taco, and left the half-eaten food sitting on his plate. Aqil gave him a rough slap on the back, while Paulo attempted to collect himself. I decided not to intervene, since it was a positive sign that he was expressing his emotions. The progress from his first session with me was apparent.

Bonsen tilted her head with sympathy. “I’m sorry. All that, for your eyes? That must be…horrible. I mean, I don’t understand why your eyes are like—”

“They’re arboreal. For judging branch distances and gauging depth in foliage clutter,” Aqil interjected.

“Oh. I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“Neither has most of the galaxy. Some of the Federation chose to befriend us. The others either didn’t believe us, or they believed us, but wanted us dead anyways.”

“Stars, I really misjudged you. I can’t imagine what that’s been like, but I promise I’ll try to get over your appearance. Uh, so we’re going back to your ship. Are you really bringing an army to the facility?”

“After what you just told us, Bonsen? Damn right, if I get my way. We have to go free the others, and…put a stop to this barbarism once and for all!”

“…okay then. You know I’m an escaped predator disease patient. Now that you’re not predators, I’m not certain you can protect me. I mean, you’re aggressive and scary, but…”

“You’re safe with us,” I assured the Zurulian.

“Okay. One more question. Like I said, I’m an escaped patient, so I’m sure t-they’re after us. Administrator Derva wanted to keep me forever, since I…wasn’t trying to get better.”

Paulo sniffled. “Was there a question in there?”

“Right! Question…do you think those exterminators are looking for us?”

Our heads snapped in the direction she pointed, to see four Venlil clad in flameproof gear marching straight toward us. Fear crept into my chest, seeing the flamethrowers in their grips. However, turning Bonsen over was out of the question. It was just as likely that we were wanted too, after assaulting the staff and busting out a patient. We should’ve high-tailed it back to the ship, despite our food cravings.

I shared a glance with the soldiers, and Aqil scooped Bonsen up with strong arms. We jumped up from the table, before dashing away from the exterminators. In the confusion, it took me a moment to realize something. We were fleeing in the opposite direction of our vehicle.

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A/N - Part 3! Bonsen shares her ADHD experiences with Paulo, and warms to human comfort. A street taco excursion further leads her to the conclusion that we are herbivores, which Bahri opts not to correct. However, wholesome bonding is cut short by an exterminator visit.

Will our wanted humans and Zurulian be able to escape? Was it right not to tell Bonsen humans are predators, in the interest of her comfort?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!