The Nature of Predators - Predator Disease (2/8)

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Memory transcription subject: Bonsen, Predator Disease Patient

Date [standardized human time]: December 20, 2136

Once I gained control of my limbs, I thrashed about in the predator’s grip. Its hands tightened with impossible strength, ensnaring me with the practice of a seasoned hunter. It searched through Derva’s effects; I could see the administrator knocked out on the floor, having been mauled by these humans. There were two others, who seemed larger and more muscular than the one holding me. If this monster couldn’t contain me, would I be passed off to the even more vicious beasts?

“Dr. Bahri, what about the collar?” one, presumably male, predator growled.

Its voice was like the scraping of two sheets of metal, an awful noise that drilled down to your eardrums. I was surprised that my translator implant understood its speech, but that meant the beasts’ language must’ve been transferred to our databases. It was remarkable that such creatures even had coherent ways to verbalize; then again, our translators used semantic meanings. It could be deciphering minimalist barks as full speech, though they did seem to be stringing many sounds together.

Something else it said…it called the one holding me Dr. Bahri, if I could gauge its intent by who it was staring at. Doctor. That was a nonsensical phrase; no predators would have medical physicians. Maybe this human was an expert in genealogy, which could be used for the heartless practice of breeding cattle. What were they doing at this facility? Were they looking for optimal farm animals?

They chose me. Administrator Derva, wake up! You’ve got to help.

Dr. Bahri exhaled heavily. “Search that Venlil’s personal effects, Paulo.”

I stopped my thrashing around, feeling my fur chilled as if I were stuck in an icebox. The humans were going to shock me for resisting; that was why they mentioned the collar. Tears rolled down my cheeks, realizing my life had become more of a nightmare than it already was. Looking at these creatures was enough to debase anyone’s sanity. Their pupils were dilated, two unmasked gobs of fury and hatred, jerking around the room in unnatural motions.

Paulo knelt by the downed technicians, and found the trigger for my shock collar. The predator’s lips curved down, as I screamed a desperate plea not to electrify me. That must’ve only pissed them off, I realized; you couldn’t appeal to a hunter’s mercy. Its eyebrows slanted downward, but it continued its search for something. It found a shiny object, and its lumbering gait carried it closer to me.

As it drew nearer, I could feel my stomach flipping. The “doctor” still had me caged in its arms too, and I could feel its warm breath beating onto my neck fur. Bahri could practically taste me…perhaps these humans were savoring their kill, and working up an appetite. Where did these alien monstrosities even come from? What had happened to the Venlil—oh no, was Venlil Prime a cattle world?

Paulo reached for my throat. I waited for the beast to snap my neck, or tear out the soft flesh with its pink claw deposits. Instead, it fitted the object it had retrieved from the technician into my collar: a key. There was a click as the band unfastened from my neck, and I could feel the free passage of air in a way I hadn’t in years. Why would predators remove a control mechanism from me? Hadn’t Derva saved them the trouble?

“W…what…w-what are you?” I stammered.

Paulo’s lips curved up in a slight snarl, a hint of its menacing intent. “We’re humans. I take it you didn’t see our first contact with the Venlil? We’re nothing like you know who…we’re friends.”

“We’re friends with the Zurulian government too,” another human chimed. “Our puzzle games went viral on Colia. Rubik’s cubes, jigsaws, sudoku. Oh, I’m Aqil, and that’s…”

“Bahri and Paulo,” I croaked.

Aqil bobbed its head. “Yeah! Look, we’re not going to hurt you. I’m sorry about our eyes, there’s not much we can do on that front. Er, should we put our visors back on?”

Bahri adjusted its grip on me, and I could see it place an obscuring band over its predator gaze. These placid words were confounding; Colia, the Zurulian homeworld, was friends with these creatures?! It was also confusing why they carried visors to conceal their forward-facing pupils. It didn’t matter that they concealed it; their heads were still on a swivel, pointing directly at whatever they wanted to look at. There was no hiding a human’s visual targeting system.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Bahri decided. “What’s your name?”

“B-Bonsen.”

“What an adorable name! Bonsen, I need you to trust us. I’ve learned enough about the Federation mentality to know we look like bloodthirsty creatures to you, and you probably think we want to eat you. We don’t, though I know we look angry now; you’re correct that we are angry. But actually, we’re just upset about this systemic, government-endorsed abuse of mental health, in flagrant violation of sapient rights.”

I tilted my head, which drew a strange crooning noise from Aqil. Had a predator race just discussed sapient rights, when their lot were known for cruelty and disregard for life? A small part of me was so desperate for anyone to show me kindness, and to make the treatment go away, that I fell limp in Bahri’s arms. The human was clean enough, apart from the blood on its lips.

I must have predator disease. The only thing that thinks I am not a threat is a born and bred killer.

Paulo and Aqil led the way out, as Bahri kept its grip gentle. I thought about trying to wiggle out of its hands, as soon as we reached the outdoors. However, realistically, I wasn’t going to outrun a hunter, after the shock treatment left me weak at the knees. The predators grew more incensed as we passed various rooms, spotting the bathing room. A Venlil was tied up and submerged in ice water; that was standard punishment for attempts to escape or an attack on the staff.

“We’ve got to come back, with a fucking army,” Aqil growled. “If there weren’t so many of them, I’d take them down now. We can’t be the only ones in the galaxy who think this is cruel!”

“These are the same people who take kids as soldiers, and don’t even view us as alive. Not the Venlil…aliens, I mean.” Paulo stifled a yawn, revealing canines that were unmistakable tools for flesh-tearing. “Ah, but we’re the monsters, man. Have you forgotten?”

Bahri quickened its pace toward the exit. “We’re all one decision away from becoming a monster. We can’t be dragged down to the Federation’s level. A word of advice.”

“I wish it were that simple, Doc. You do what has to be done; the morals are best saved for the philosophers. Things get hot on the ground. I know that. Aqil knows that.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s none of your business,” Aqil said coldly. “Paulo, shut your fucking mouth, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

The other male donned a smug snarl. “All I’m saying is, things get swept under the rug during wars. It’s more about whether they deserve it…and this poor teddy bear, these civilians, they don’t.”

The predatory undertones to their rhetoric were unmistakable. However, I couldn’t deny that there were certain words that a human should not have an equivalent to. Morals, philosophers, advice. Aqil threatening Paulo made me nervous, seeing that the two hunters were on the verge of dueling. Whatever Bahri said, the larger males were engaged in an obvious contest of dominance; these were savage aliens with tenuous control over their violent impulses.

Venlil staff scattered at the sight of the primates, who merely had to raise a fist back to clear a hallway. I could see the entrance, with the lone guard by it. He looked up in alarm, and rushed in to block the predators. Paulo barreled over him; the human’s weight flattened the herbivore. My fear chemicals were still in full force, as Bahri shouldered through the door behind the males. This was the moment I’d dreamed about, since my imprisonment here.

This was tantamount to being captured by the Arxur, so I doubted it was a lasting improvement to my circumstances. However, to feel the breeze buffeting my face, and to feel serene warmth cloaking me from the skies again, it was almost worth whatever the humans’ nefarious purpose might be. Tears poured down my cheeks, but this time, they were happy tears.

Memory transcription subject: Dr. Kiara Bahri, Human Psychologist

Date [standardized human time]: December 20, 2136

Bonsen was adorable, snuggled up in the car as far away from us as possible. Her velvety, cublike ears were melting my heart, alongside her button nose and bright eyes. I respected her personal space despite my desire to scoop her up, and tried to imagine how anyone could torment something so innocent. This wasn’t some dangerous Zurulian that was foaming at the mouth.

Paulo was resting his eyes as well, after the emotionally draining excursion. We’d slipped our masks off, making ourselves comfortable while Bonsen was asleep. I could see the puffiness in his eyelids, and the sheer exhaustion in his body language. Earth had taken its toll on all of us; from what I overheard in the heated exchange, the stoic Aqil wasn’t exempt from that. The Malaysian soldier kept his gaze fixed on the window, avoiding any conversation attempts.

We’re in for a reckoning when we get back to the UN. They simply can’t turn a blind eye to this cruelty, though.

“What even caused them to lock her up?” Paulo groaned, with his eyes still shut. “You should diagnose her yourself, Doctor Bahri.”

I frowned to myself. “Kiara is fine. We’re all equals here.”

“Educationally, no we ain’t, but whatever you say, Kiara. Med school isn’t for the faint of heart.”

“Neither is being a soldier, and putting your life on the line,” Aqil said idly. “I second Paulo’s curiosity on what Bonsen was flagged for. We should ask her about it, when she wakes up.”

I shook my head. “Let her sleep; she just got electroshocked, completely conscious without any sedatives, then learned about us. I can look over her chart and make my own conclusions.”

“You got her files?” Paulo’s eyes blinked open with interest, as I unfolded the sheet I’d snagged in that shock chamber. “You’re a fucking genius, Doc. I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but it’s in our interest to make sure she’s not…you know.”

“Actually, I don’t know. Enlighten me.”

“Well, psychotic. Or dangerous…not that I think she should be shocked, either way! I mean, shit, we found out alien serial killers do exist, with that Intestine-Eater debacle.”

“Paulo’s right. Can’t write teddies off as ‘not a threat’ just because they’re cute,” Aqil agreed. “Sapience opens the door to a laundry list of possibilities. Humans are a mixed basket ourselves.”

I beckoned with my index finger, and the two soldiers scooted closer to me. Bonsen’s eyes blinked open, as Paulo flopped down a bit too forcefully. I decided to review her chart before engaging with her, unless she addressed one of us. The Zurulian was watching us with interest, as we huddled over the paper like a campfire.

I had Aqil hold the chart steady, and ran a visual translator over its contents. A digitized version appeared on its layout; we scanned Bonsen’s history together. The poor thing was taken in at the age of ten, and had been a patient for five years. I didn’t know the Zurulians’ age of maturity off the top of my head, but that sounded young to my human ears.

Oh Lord, is she still a child now?! It’s worse, knowing they’d do those treatments to juveniles. Who knows how they treat the adults?

I skim-read the rest of the information, absorbing that Colia was her place of birth and that her parents were xenophysicians. My eyes landed on the bit we were searching for: the “Predator Disease” symptoms under the diagnosis section.  It read the following, in a neatly bulleted list:

• Fidgeting
• Lack of focus
• Interrupting and not listening to herdmates
• Forgetfulness
• Irregular daydreaming (psychosis)

My jaw almost dropped to the planetary core, and my hands shot to my head in horror. The visual translator slipped out of my fingers, tumbling to the car floor. That couldn’t be…it. My alarm had gotten worse, as the bone-chilling realization of what those symptoms described sunk in.

“Bonsen has ADHD. She’s the poster child for it,” I breathed.

The other humans processed my proclamation in shell-shocked silence, unable to believe their ears. There was no question Predator Disease was a targeted campaign against anyone different. The question was how to put a stop to these brutal practices, and how to help Bonsen with her own trauma.

I never imagined that I would be fixing the galaxy with Adderall.

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A/N - Part 2 of the series! Bonsen and the humans escape from the facility, with a promise to return, and Dr. Bahri discovers that our Zurulian narrator merely has what we consider ADHD. Will the therapist be able to give proper aid to our teddy bear friend? Will Bonsen accept the strange predators who rescued her?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!