The Nature of Predators - Zurulian Miniseries (3/5)

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Memory transcription subject: Doctor Wilen, Zurulian Hospital Fleet

Date [standardized human time]: October 27, 2136

Smoke wafted through the human’s lair, bearing an earthy aroma. I made my way to the table at his urging, and eyeballed the steaming plates he was carrying. A starchy mash and a dark-red fruit goop rested alongside the faux meat. Perhaps the human selected that particular jam because it was the shade of blood, at least on this world.

“Mashed potatoes and lingonberry sauce, like I promised.” Lars placed the mismatched meals in front of us, and then hurried over with some shot glasses. “Can you guys do alcohol? Y’know, fermentation?”

The human clapped his hands together at Fraysa’s nod. He poured a generous helping of a clear liquor, which smelled intense. I didn’t think that lowering my senses and inhibitions was a good idea, around a wild predator. Then again, intoxication was necessary to even put an eating utensil near flesh-flavored vegetables.

I gulped down the drink in a heartbeat, making a face at the burning sensation. Lars looked surprised at the sight of liquor dripping down my face. He tossed his shoulders, and refilled my cup. I suppose the predator was happy to supply a sedative dosage, if it made me more suggestible.

The human placed the bottle on the table, for easy access, before digging into his meal. My stomach churned as I eyed my own plate. Fraysa looked queasy too; her fork hovered over the meat for a long moment. She swallowed, before scooping the lingonberries instead.

“I heard you’re in the program too, Fraysa,” Lars mumbled through a mouthful of food, revealing half-eaten “meat” strips. “Tell me about your partner.”

The female Zurulian’s eyes lit up. “She’s from a country called South Korea, and her name is Kim Ji-yun. I didn’t know predators could make such lovely gardens; she sent me stunning pictures. Your kind would fit right in at Aafa’s School of the Flora.”

“Yeah, lots of humans enjoy tending to plants. I thought about getting one. Carnivorous plants, that’s my jam! There’s the Venus flytrap, which has some big-ass teeth that slam shut when anything goes in its mouth.”

I narrowed my eyes, not finding the human’s joke funny. Plants consuming meat was a laughable idea; predation was an animal concept. It was rude of Lars to mock Fraysa’s partner, who sounded much nicer than mine. The scientific oddity, of predators appreciating the beauty of vegetation, was curious though. I’d be interested to learn about that evolutionary development from a botany-loving anesthesiologist.

I wish I got paired with this “Kim Ji-yun”, instead of this brutish douchebag.

Fraysa laughed nervously. “Now you’re being ridiculous, Lars. A mouth on a flower? Plants don’t eat meat…they absorb nutrients through their roots.”

The human scrunched up his nose, and punched something into a holopad. He turned a video around to me and Fraysa. I watched as a plant on screen clapped its thorny leaves together; it actually moved. This had to be CGI from some Terran monster movie. Lars wanted to test how gullible we were.

“See what you’ve done?! Fraysa looks like she’s about to pass out!” I screamed. “We don’t want to see the demonic imaginings of your film industry.”

Lars scratched his head. “Oh, sorry. It is real, but they only eat like, insects. You’re fine.”

The female Zurulian pulled up her chat, and deferred the question to her civilized human. I leaned over the tablet, watching as the typing bubble appeared. The female doctor pushed her food around the plate, looking uncomfortable.

Another human is insisting that you have meat-eating plants on Earth. Is this true? Fraysa had asked.

Ji-yun took several seconds for her reply. There’s a few cases of carnivorous plants where soil is nutrient-poor. I don’t think this human should’ve divulged that so freely, though.

Why not? What if these things are growing in our forests? The implications this has for our extermination officers are staggering.

We’re…not supposed to talk about predation. We definitely don’t want to encourage further destruction of ecosystems. I’m going to notify my UN contact, and we’ll discuss this after.

I was unsettled by this new knowledge; it was tough to even fit such a concept within our definition of predators. From a scientific perspective, Terran botany could prove interesting. The thought of vegetation digesting animals did make me squeamish.

“Wilen, you haven’t touched your food!” Lars exclaimed. “Neither of you ate the fake chicken. C’mon, live a little!”

The human had almost cleaned his plate, with unnerving speed. The unappetizing “meat” cutlet was still sitting on my dish; I suspected Lars wouldn’t let us leave until someone sampled it. This was something that I had to do, to protect Fraysa from psychological damage.

After downing another liquor shot, I pried off a tiny “meat” shred. My paw shook as I tried to move the utensil. The fact that it was inches from my lips made my head swim; though maybe that was the alcohol. My eyes squeezed shut, and I shoved it in with a quick jab.

The flavor hit my tongue before I could spit the warm chunk out. It wasn’t the overpowering rot or sourness that I expected. It dissolved into my saliva, with a neutral, watery flavor. The smooth texture felt soft against my teeth, and my taste buds purred from the nutritious cleanser.

How could it taste rich yet light at the same time? Why did I like a flesh emulation?

“It’s sorta good?” My statement came out as a question, and I swallowed the bite in confusion. “It’s toasty, and a little plain. Like a tangy and wet root vegetable.”

Fraysa wrinkled her nose, and took a tiny nibble. Her brown eyes twinkled, with a bit of relief. I took a hearty bite this time, pairing it with the side dishes. The blends of starches, spices, and sweetness made my tail wag with pleasure.

“I knew there’d be a market for plant meats! Listen, we find a way to sell this across the Federation, and we’ll be rich,” Lars growled.

The gravity of what I’d done hit me like a truck, and I dropped my fork with haste. If I liked that mimicry, did that make me a predator? What kind of Zurulian enjoyed eating the skin of dead animals, or anything remotely resembling that? I was terrified that the next time I looked at a living creature, I’d feel hungry.

Actually, it was a matter of time before I became a mindless killer; it was possible I’d even resort to killing my own kind. After all, the Arxur seemed to think Zurulians tasted delightful. By delegating animals to the realm of food, I’d denigrated myself to the level of a mindless tormentor. Attacking another being wouldn’t be something I could forgive myself for.

Lars’ predator eyes widened in alarm, as I started bawling. I stumbled out of the kitchen on wobbly legs, and tried to burrow into his couch cushions. Raw shame and inadequacy washed over me; someone like me deserved to be put down. What I’d done was unthinkable.

The human raced over, flopping down on the couch. “Shh, don’t cry. What did I say?”

“I don’t want to be a predator!” I sobbed. “I’m horrible!”

“You’re not. Oh, there’s nothing wrong with your senses, or who you are as a person. Finding out you enjoy a certain taste isn’t a moral failing.”

“It’s the taste of c-corpses.”

“I assure you, that is a hollow replica of actual meat. The concentration is high in minerals and protein, which is why you like it. Why we like it, and why any Zurulian would.”

“Any Zurulian? I defiled my soul, and disgraced—”

“You’re normal, Wilen, and your body just reacted like it’s supposed to. The Federation has conditioned you to think this is wrong, but you didn’t do anything non-vegetarian, did you? Don’t feel bad about yourself.”

It occurred to me that the human was within striking distance. If I shifted my position so much as a whisker, his leg would be touching mine. His hand was shaking, as though he was barely restraining himself from striking. The recollections of him throwing punch after punch at an opposing “player” cycled through my mind. What if he lost control, and started beating me into a pulp?

The alcohol had dulled my fear too much, leaving me oblivious to the danger. The predator had just eaten, sure, but my weakness must be making him ravenous. The concern in his blue eyes could be over his waning restraint, not my display of sadness.

I tried to stand, but my motor impairment made me topple right into his chest. Lars chuckled, catching me with sturdy arms. His grip was tight and impenetrable, like a wire constricting around my neck. I screamed in a piercing wail, and flailed around.

The predator has me in his clutches…his heart is racing. He’s excited to eat me!

“Sad and drunk Zurulians are way too cute. It should be illegal.” Lars’ tone was patronizing, as he let me wriggle to the floor. “I really wanna scratch your little cub ears, but like, I respect your boundaries.”

“You do? Since when?!” I hissed.

“Now now, that’s not fair. I didn’t make you do anything, even if I twisted your arm a little. If you’re mad about coming here, I have a suggestion on how to handle that.”

“What? Sleep in your refrigerator with the other food? Go kill some fish with you?”

The human yanked a pillow off his couch, and waved it at me. He seemed to want me to take it from his hands. I grabbed it in my mouth hesitantly, and gave him a quizzical stare. His pink lips parted in a circular shape for a moment, before he returned to the devilish grin.

“Nah, my suggestion was violence! Go ‘head, hit me with the pillow,” Lars declared.

I was uncertain about assaulting a violent predator, but I was angry with him. He’d weaponized my emotions against me to earn my agreement, and pushed well past my comfort zone. On the second day of our pairing, nonetheless.

I tossed my head, whacking him on the ankle with a pillow. The human released a rattling laugh; crinkles extended from his binocular eyes. His icy gaze seemed to melt, as I held the couch decoration in my mouth.

Lars grabbed another pillow. “I’m ready. Hit me again, like you mean it!”

I swung the downy cushion at him, clubbing him on the shin. My lack of coordination made me stumble, and the human watched as I regained my balance. A surprised yelp burst from my lips, as he beaned me across the ear. It was obvious he was holding back; it seemed like a half-hearted swing, little more than a tap.

Without waiting for encouragement, I pranced toward him with the pillow. The human allowed himself to be felled by a shove; he was careful not to sit on me, as he dropped to all fours. I slapped him on the cheek, with as much force as I could muster. My own giggles resounded through the air, with shrill yips.

Lars reached out to the female medic with a clawless paw. “I am being murdered. Fraysa, help!”

Fraysa leapt out of her chair, and snagged the pillow he had abandoned. Those blue eyes widened in protest, as she joined in the fluff smackdown. His laughter morphed into hysterics, as we continued to pummel him. A tear rolled down his beet-red cheeks, and he struggled to catch his breath.

“See? Playing…aggression is fun,” Lars gasped.

The Terran beast was right; that comical moment had been rather enjoyable. I released the pillow from between my teeth, and circled myself atop it. Maybe I didn’t hate this monstrous-looking creature. He was scary and different, but he was just a playful predator at heart.

Lars snarled with fondness when I coiled up into a ball. It didn’t appear to be a cue he wanted to eat me, after all. He was happy we were in his humble abode, laughing and messing about. I don’t think this human meant to distress us at every turn; he just needed to navigate our sensitivities with more tact.

A forceful pounding shook the door to the apartment, and Lars squinted in confusion. That suggested the human hadn’t been expecting visitors; the banging on the door didn’t sound friendly. He gestured for us to stay put, walking to the entry with slow steps.

“Uh…” The Terran studied the three humans waiting outside with papers, who were sporting thick pelts on their torsos. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Lars Isaksson?” The trio pressed inside without an invitation, and grabbed my partner’s wrist. “You’re under arrest for ‘flagrant and willful’ violations of United Nations Emergency Order 56, pertaining to extraterrestrial communications.”

“What?!” The dentist scowled, as the newcomers chained his hands behind his back. “This is ridiculous. I’m a Swedish citizen; you have no right! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Did you read what you signed? The United Nations has the right to extradite you to an international court, should you cause aliens undue trauma or undermine humanity’s standing.”

“I have done neither! Look at them…ask them! Wilen, Fraysa! Just because I didn’t coddle them—”

“The rules are quite simple, and yet your disregard is singular. You can’t claim ignorance; all of this was spelled out multiple times during the interview process.”

Lars scuffed his shoes on the ground, cursing as two officers hauled him out by the elbows. His eyes watered as he glanced back at me; the human wanted us Zurulians to speak up. The question in his eyes was whether we had a budding friendship, and if I was interested in ever seeing him again. I hadn’t wanted my way out of the program to be like this.

“Good evening, Zurulians.” The third officer approached us, as a dejected Lars was hauled away. I could see how much my silence wounded him. “We sincerely apologize, on behalf of humanity, for any offense this man has caused. The last thing we want is a diplomatic incident with your people.”

“Uh, t-thanks? I mean…” I trailed off, watching the human prisoner vanish down the corridor. “No, this isn’t right. Let him go! You’re hurting him.”

Fraysa flicked her ears. “Stop this now! Lars never harmed us, or did anything that offended me. You’re not even letting him speak for himself!”

“I assure you, we are not hurting Mr. Isaksson or depriving him of his rights. Come with us; we’ll take you back to your ship.”

The policeman’s face left no room for argument, and his eyes widened as I stumbled. My apparent intoxication must be another strike against Lars, but I couldn’t walk in a straight line to save my life. My paws staggered toward the steps, searching for a glimpse of my partner. The human cop muttered a short apology, and opted to carry me down the stairs. I didn’t protest, since I doubted I could manage it without falling.

It shouldn’t sting to see a predator whisked away, one that had exposed me and Fraysa to the depths of depravity. Lars wasn’t someone I trusted, even on matters as basic as eating me while I slept. Every fiber of my being wanted nothing to do with him, other than during that brief moment of fooling around. Was it worth fighting to free a human who forced our pairing to fruition?

My ears cued into the fading sirens, taking my Terran partner out of sight and out of mind. I wondered if he’d even heard me request his release; for all I knew, he thought I’d forsaken him. The last thing the human would remember about his Zurulian “buddy” was that I hated him, and feared him.

That was an unacceptable method of terminating our partnership. There had to be some way I could get the Zurulian government to plead for his release. Ironically, it seemed my best shot was to convince the humans I wanted to interact with that traumatizing predator.

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A/N - Mini-series Part 3 is out! Shortly after Wilen is roped into the dinner party, Lars gets dragged off my UN officers for his shenanigans. Will our Zurulians find a way to free the human troublemaker?

As always, thanks for reading and supporting!