The Nature of Predators

Memory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Scientist

Date [standardized human time]: March 17, 2160

The hotel was difficult to miss, seemingly tailored to extraterrestrial clientele; this venue must’ve been where diplomatic guests from across the galaxy were brought in. Certain floors even had unique environmental controls, from what Dustin explained—perhaps some of those could be useful for accommodating Bissem subspecies, who had varying climate preferences. The floor we were brought to was part of the “Standard” lodgings, suitable for most species, including humans. My beak parted with a bit of enthusiasm, as the Terran waved at an indoor pool. I could see primate guests and Thafki being the primary occupants, with the massive natives somehow finding buoyancy. It was strange to see how violently they kicked the water, while moving a single arm at a time in rotational fashion. Certainly not the most graceful-looking technique.

The Yotul’s vitriol left my feathers ruffled, though I was attempting to shake it off. How could I squander the first opportunity to absorb everything about Earth’s culture? One resentful species shouldn’t ruin the entirety of the trip. I would’ve loved to stop just for a brief moment, and enjoy a swim with Haliska, but the Thafki seemed engrossed in a joint call with Nulia. From the sound of it, my first inclination would’ve been to assume they were checking in with Ivrana…but how would instantaneous communication across light-years be possible? I decided to keep my thoughts to myself, until a proper opportunity to question our hosts arose.

The spaceships take time to “tunnel” through space, as best as I understand it. The only way I can imagine FTL comms working is quantum entanglement: some variant of it. That’s a bold assumption though. Even the Selmer, in their frigid polar environment, have trouble keeping it cold enough for quantum computers to function at all.

General Naltor certainly had a brooding look on his face, throughout the entirety of our trek to our quarters. Dustin, meanwhile, was busy going through a speech about having room service laid out in advance; the thought of testing Earth’s culinary delights excited me. After all of that walking, I was downright famished. I decided to trust our hosts, if he said that we could eat their food. The frozen fish they’d thawed out back on the ship hadn’t harmed us, even if the flavor was a bit reductive. The invention of modern fishing techniques was the cornerstone moment of Bissem history—I wondered when, and how, humans began trawling their oceans.

“Dustin, are you sure that Haliska will be alright, with fish being served to us? I don’t want to impact her trauma,” I remarked.

The human flashed his teeth. “Ah, that’s kind of you to consider. I’ll keep an eye on her, but she should be fine; she didn’t have a problem with my choice of food during our training. I think the problem partially was the knowledge that your food was a real, dead animal, not something lab-grown. Knowing that human meat is mainly vat-created has allowed us to…excuse it away.”

Naltor seemed to gag on his own tongue. “Lab-grown? I swear, you and your team threw those words around earlier, but I let you fiends distract me with cure this, predator that. Shit, I was ready to agree to anything to save Ivrana. ‘Vat-created?’ What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“We take stem cell samples from animal embryos, and trigger them to grow into muscles and fat in a lab. Nothing dies, nothing has to be raised: you can create as much as you want, from a small collection of viable cultures. It’s allowed us to supply food to a rapidly growing population, and give our oceans a rest.”

“Don’t tell me this is your plan for Ivrana! It sounds like these cells…metastasize. You’re feeding us fucking cancer! There’s no chance this unnatural shit is safe, or something I would’ve knowingly put in my beak.”

“It’s nothing like cancer: it’s inducing a natural, biological process. Cells for lifeforms are meant to replicate. Actually, the shit that causes cancer is probably the growth hormones you use in your farms. Our practices are sustainable, they save land we need for agriculture…and we can even control how much saturated fat winds up in the final product, making it healthier.”

I tilted my head in thought. “I can see several advantages, Naltor. We’re deeply overfishing our oceans, and this technology could help us. Plus, I doubt they’d eat it themselves if it was dangerous. If this makes Haliska less uncomfortable, then I’m all for it. We need to be mindful of our image, especially with certain statements making the rounds here.”

“We have done nothing to have an image problem, except exist!” the Selmer general challenged. “Though I don’t know what those Tseia fuckwits have done. I don’t think they’ve had any positive contributions to Ivrana, in our entire history.”

“You’re correct about existing, Naltor, but perhaps you should reconsider your hostility toward the Tseia. They probably don’t feel too positively about Selmer or Vritala, since you both tried to invade them. There used to be four subspecies of Bissems, hm? That was before the other nations pillaged Nelmin. Wouldn’t the Tseia have shared their fate, if you weren’t driven back?” Dustin countered.

“That was a long time ago. My country didn’t even exist back then, and the Vritala had a damn fiefdom in those days. I thought you weren’t here to judge our history: that you wanted us not to judge yours. That you’d made your own mistakes.”

“I’m not judging your mistakes. I’m encouraging you to understand a different perspective from your own. There’s no reason you can’t learn from the past’s lessons; failure to do so makes it inevitable that they’ll happen again.”

“That’s all well-and-dandy, but if you want to talk about the past: the Tseia are reclusive and sketchy as Kail. Lassmin is considered to be on good terms with those war-happy nomads just because they’ll humor conversations with us. I’ve always thought they were a threat to our peace; that they’d be the last to ever want Bissem Unity. Now, they’re proving me right by fucking up first contact!”

Concern caused me to clutch my flippers to my chest. “There’s no need to get so defensive, Naltor. We don’t even know what the Tseia have done.”

“It’s alright,” Dustin assured me. “We should wait to have all the facts. I just…I think I already know what I have to suggest. If it’s as bad as the Yotul say, we need to approach the Tseia, or all chances of getting into the Sapient Coalition will be gone. Arranging a parlay on Alsh, we can’t afford such biases. We have to go there.”

“That’s suicide.”

“So is letting Ivrana die,” I countered. “With the up-ice climb we already have, we can’t afford more opposition. I won’t let first contact be ruined.”

“I appreciate your passion. Haliska and Nulia are conferencing live with our monitoring station, back in Ivrana’s system.” Dustin’s words offered confirmation of FTL comms. Makes it much easier for them to communicate across the Coalition, I imagine; and it’ll help us stay in touch with Earth. “Let’s take this into a private venue; this is one of your rooms here. We’ll see what my teammates have to say, and we’ll make a plan to get all of the nations on our side.”

The Gojid sociologist was jotting down several notes for herself, while the Thafki seemed to be listening intently to the latest intel from Ivrana. I couldn’t help but wonder how the people back home were taking the news of first contact; it was clear, given how standoffish the Tseia were behaving, that not all Bissems were welcoming our visitors with open flippers. It was my hope that the Merlei Huddedom and the Confederation of Vrital were a bit more receptive to the aliens. The Lassian diplomats must be working overtime, banking on years of forged relations to make the other nations amenable. Did we have an in-road with the Tseia? How were the other countries handling the fact that the visitors only contacted us?

Haliska looks worried, and I don’t think it’s about the fish. That can’t be a positive sign.

Dustin clapped his hands, finding plates set out under metal trays. “Ah, food is here! The one with a green sticker is for you, Hallie. Dig in, please.”

Naltor didn’t look exhilarated about sampling the offerings, after learning how they were sourced, so I decided to set an open-minded example. My flippers grabbed a human culinary tool, and I dove into a tender fish cutlet; it was delectable, juicy and falling apart in my beak. Finally giving in to the pleas of his stomach, the Selmer general took some miserable bites from his own serving. The Sapient Coalition hosts picked at their meals, more focused on conferring among themselves. As we ate in relative silence, I absorbed the standard layout of a Terran lodging; the couch and television beckoned to me, granting access to an entire catalog of media. They hadn’t spared any expense. The suite was spacious enough to be an entire apartment, back home!

With my plate cleaned in record time, I found my willpower restored. “Thank you for the meal. It was lovely. We appreciate the generous accommodations—”

“Don’t mention it. We want you to see the best Earth has to offer. Need some reason for why you’d want to join us, with all our baggage,” Dustin chuckled.

“It seems we have our own problems too. If you don’t mind my forwardness, it’s my job to ensure that first contact goes smoothly. I need to know what’s going on back home with the Tseia Nomads, and the other nations.”

“Let’s start with the positives. The Merlei Huddledom and the Confederation of Vrital both are eager to speak with us, and have taken assurances of our goodwill well. I think we should send a representative from our team to both, alongside an analyst from the outpost who speaks their language and some Lassian diplomats. Emphasizing that we intend not to favoritize any faction, or to play kingmaker, is key.”

“I like the idea of opening channels with all nations. I’m sure you know, but be warned that the Huddledom are hypersocial—and their frigid environment would be hazardous to you.”

“We’re well aware,” Nulia answered. “There’s a reason the analysts we trained in each pole’s Huddle Tongue were Jaur. They’ll be able to handle the temperatures, whereas I was planning to volunteer as the landing party’s representative. I don’t mind wearing an environmental suit. Haliska can handle the Confederation of Vrital, who have the closest ties to your country. Hopefully, Lassmin can help coordinate our reception.”

General Naltor set down his fork. “I can make arrangements for your safe passage, but I can’t go with you to Selmer territory. The Huddledom…sees me as a traitor. I was the first officer of my country to defect to a nation created by Vritala. I wouldn’t be welcome there, though Tassi shouldn’t have the same issues.”

“We’ve done background research on you both,” Haliska commented. “The disclosure is appreciated, nevertheless.”

“Given that you read minds, I shouldn’t be surprised by your disregard for privacy.”

“I think they just wanted to know who they were dealing with,” I sighed. “They’d want something resembling a background check, for the first Bissems to cross their borders.”

Nulia drummed her claws on the table. “It’s also that understanding you on a personal level helps us, to avoid offending you. We’re setting the groundwork for relations between our species. If anything goes wrong between us, it could spell diplomatic catastrophe.”

“We’re committed to making sure this entire process goes as smoothly as possible. There’s enough complications as it is,” Dustin sighed. “Nulia, tell them what the Tseia said in their…public address.”

“I guess I get the joy of being the messenger.”

“I had to tell them about the Arxur, and Earth being almost knocked off. You’re getting a softball, compared to that.”

“You do have a point. The Tseia hadn’t been communicating through diplomatic channels, right up until the point they released a statement on their government’s account. In essence, they stated that Bissems shouldn’t trust the aliens, and that they’ll…defend their territory from threats from the stars. It’s in line with their standard distaste for outsiders, yet it’s brazen to outright threaten to shoot us on sight. Lassian diplomats haven’t been able to reach them since then, either, so we can’t even talk it through.”

How could the Tseia be so blind to the bigger picture, treating a non-Bissem intelligence like any other outsider to be shot down? There are too many opportunities for our entire planet. Like Dustin said in his speech, their medicine and mechanical prowess can save lives.

Naltor smashed his fork against the table, earning looks from all of us. “Now, do you see my point? You can’t just fly off for a civil conversation, Dustin. Tell me, how much research have you done on the Tseia? Did you observe more about them than we all know?”

“What Naltor is saying is that, even in the internet age, the Tseia haven’t linked up with the rest of us. They seem to have their own isolated network. The Nomads talk to our diplomats, but nobody lands on their soil. They put metal overhangs atop their cities, just to hide them from satellites. There’s not much we can tell you about their culture, apart from the fact they migrate from city to city, and have one home for each season,” I commented.

“Given how easily they acquired all of the data about us, I was hopeful our alien friends might be able to shed some light. Nobody can say why the Tseia do anything, but they’re fucking strange. During the old space race, never having tipped off any interest in the stars, they launched the first rocket to Ivrana’s orbit, before computers were invented. Then, they went to war with the world over Nelmin, when they’d always kept to themselves; suddenly, it was meant to be theirs. Tell me, does the Sapient Coalition have any inkling on the Tseia’s ways?”

Dustin grimaced. “Well…no. Those things are mysteries to us as much as you. We attempted to tap into their networks, but were unable to crack their encryption, even with quantum supercomputers. It’s impressive.”

The Selmer’s expression was priceless. “You’re telling me those nomads were unhackable, when you got through our military-grade encryption like it was nothing.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. We only learned their language through your databases.”

“Their computer technology exceeds what we would expect from Bissems, given its recent discovery,” Nulia commented. “It’s possible that your date, on the advent of computers, is wrong altogether. That would answer your rocket mystery.”

“And possibly why they’re reclusive. But not why they conceal their technology level from all of you.” Haliska lashed her tail, pushing a forkful of greens around her plate. “Again, we can only speculate. There must be some kind of reason, cultural or otherwise, for the isolationism.”

“And to find out, we need to talk to the Tseia. The way they’re threatening us…fearmongering about our arrival…I think they’re scared, just like Naltor and his military were.”

My mind was reeling from the aliens’ hypotheses, which suggested that the Tseia had made sophisticated advances and kept those for themselves. How could Bissem technology hold a candle to alien marvels, whose capabilities should’ve blown ours out of the water? It was a testament to how we’d underestimated the Nomads, beyond just the obvious case of the surprise rocket launch. My immediate thought was whether they’d tapped into the Sapient Coalition’s outpost network, and learned about the Federation; that was the most logical reason to be frightened. If the war’s horrors were released in an uncontrolled fashion, the effect on the Bissem public could be devastating. I hoped this was a case of isolationist paranoia, but if it wasn’t, I agreed with the human that we needed to get a handle on it.

I can picture the mass panic, learning about entire worlds being destroyed, carnivore hatred, and people being eaten. If I’m right, that’s the worst way the Tseia could’ve found out the galaxy’s history.

“I wasn’t scared. I was alarmed about your arrival,” Naltor grumbled.

Dustin’s eyes rotated up toward his brain. “Whatever you say. You know, I was tempted to wave at the snipers, but I don’t think they’d have liked that.”

“You knew about the snipers?”

“We have heat vision cameras. Just saying.”

“And your plan is to touch down on Alsh, where you can’t see the snipers? Where nobody is granted entrance…after they openly pledged to blow your brains out?”

“Yes and no. I was thinking more washing up on their shores, under a Lassian flag. You’re the only ones they talk to, and that means they might hold fire on a diplomatic vessel. I would’ve liked to have a longer holiday here on Earth, but I believe we need to turn back for Ivrana tomorrow. Every day this drags on, the Yotul’s case gets stronger.”

“Won’t it make you look bad, not honoring their request for you to stay away?” I murmured. “You told us you would’ve left, if that was our wish. I also believe they’re serious about their threat to kill you.”

“Hm. I will leave, should they ask politely in person. Perhaps we’re wrong not to respect their ‘Keep Out’ message, but they simply…must recant the public statements, for the sake of our mission. Ivrana is in dire straits. I’ll sleep fine at night, and to save an entire planet, I can stomach the risks.”

“I’ve come to like you, Dustin, and though he won’t admit it, Naltor does too. Neither of us want anything to happen to you. I would feel terrible if first contact ended in a tragedy, not to mention what it could mean between our two peoples. I want to fix this mess as much as you do, but perhaps it should be Lassian diplomats taking the plunge.”

“I agree with Dr. Tassi,” Nulia said, her spines half-raised in alarm. “There’s no reason for you to put yourself in such…grave peril.”

The human slammed a fist on the table. “The reason is that we need to communicate that we’re not a threat. Sending the Lassians alone could make us at fault for the next Global War, whereas if I go, it’s just one of their ships. I believe in Bissems. If I put myself at their mercy, they’ll see that they have the power. That there’s nothing to fear. It has to be me, and I won’t be dissuaded.”

“Then let us go with you,” Haliska countered, nervously preening her fur. “This could be my fault, for the meltdown at the feast. We’re a team; you don’t have to sacrifice yourself alone.”

“If they’re going to kill aliens on sight, there’s no reason for our whole first contact party to die. That level of carnage would give the United Nations pause, despite their commitment to help. I won’t risk our entire connection to the Bissems. There’s been too much blood, sweat, and tears into this program. A decade of our lives.”

My stomach churned, knowing I couldn’t let Dustin venture off alone. “Then I’m tagging along. This is my life’s work, and I have to do my part to protect you. I’ll make sure the Lassian government doesn’t seek retribution…in the event of our demise. I’m representing FAI, not them.”

”There’s not a chance in hell—”

“You’re like one of Kail’s cultists, trying to be a martyr,” Naltor interjected. “If you want a Lassian boat, you’re taking both Tassi and I with you. We’re…in this together now. For all Bissems. And don’t worry: I won’t go spewing my thoughts about the Tseia to their faces. We go the three of us, or we don’t go at all. Got it?”

“You could leave a little room for debate.” The human hesitated, a weary look in his eyes, but was unable to withstand the general’s authoritative assertions. “If you insist, but I don’t like it. Putting people in harm’s way isn’t something I’m used to.”

“That’s why you’re bringing a military man along. Too much naivety, between you and Tassi. This ocean crisis sounds like serious shit, and I won’t let a single country doom our planet. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Ivrana.”

“Thank you. I…guess I’ll have our people get in touch with Lassmin. We know how we’re handling each of the factions.”

Dustin stood from the table, clearly having lost his appetite during our discussion. The flavorful fish cutlet that I had devoured suddenly felt heavy as a rock in my stomach, as it occurred to me what I had insisted on; I’d been watching the human lay himself out on train tracks, and I couldn’t bear it. Just when Bissems discovered aliens, my life could be ending in a few days. There was some solace that I had lived to the point where we discovered extraterrestrial intelligence—and had been the first Bissem to see another planet—but there was still so much I wanted to learn. Sailing toward the continent known for torching unwanted visitors on sight was suicide, even if it was the only way to attempt to save diplomatic relations.

I rubbed the spot where my implant had been placed, feeling stress boiling within me. My first priority was to get a memory transcription before we departed for Tseia territory…in case this was my final week in the land of the living. I wanted people to know that I was willing to sacrifice myself for this cause, and to know how truly excited I was about these newcomers. When Dustin and Nulia got scanned before the ship launch tomorrow, I would quietly have my thoughts taken down. It would take a miracle of good faith from the nomads to depart alive, if the fact that they were “friendly” with Lassmin counted for anything. We had no other choice to find out why the third subspecies had hidden so much from the rest of Bissemkind.