The Nature of Predators

Memory Transcription Subject: Elias Meier, Former UN Secretary-General

Date [standardized human time]: September 26, 2160

Skalga, World of Death.

Seeing that sign at the spaceport had felt strange, as I’d traveled to the Venlil homeworld in search of old friends. Syba was handling most of the calls with the Shield, in the aftermath of our visit; the Sulean was unwavering in her glowing enthusiasm, and had lauded my speech during our journey back, long before we knew the results. She’d fired off the message I asked her to, apprising the Sapient Coalition of the Federation remnants’ unexpected presence and The Sailer’s unique nature. I found myself hoping against hope that we’d have something to show for our efforts, and that I’d made the right decision, speaking my own lines rather than Korajan’s ideations. As of today, there were still two planetary defenses to be mounted; I got a sense of deja vu, hearing that the Arxur rode into the rescue at Talsk.

“No, no way! There will not be emotional support animals on Skalga!” a furious voice hissed, charcoal-gray fur standing upright; the mouthy Venlil looked furious. “Yes, it’s just a ferret; that’s great, Justine. But if we allow one type of pet, you crazy fuckers will start putting crocodiles in your luggage. Just because I’m crippled doesn’t mean I can’t drop your predator ass at forty years young!”

“That’s enough, Rauln.” A middle-aged human cleared his throat, wearing a metallic-looking jacket. His black hair was slicked back, as if to hide some of the graying roots. “Don’t mind him. He’s having a mid-life crisis.”

“Mid-life crisis? Then what do I call you: entire life crisis? Because you—you have not aged gracefully, William Kane. You look like my couch cushions ate you for breakfast and barfed you up, you pasty porridge-faced man!”

Justine tried to creep past the spaceport security with the ferret, clearly wanting no part in the unhinged shouting match. Rauln’s hissing intensified, and he placed himself directly in front of the Terran tourist. The human visitor stepped over a few paces to the side, as the Venlil followed her, like a basketball guard trying to stop a shot. William smirked, folding his arms and making little effort to intercede. I’d never seen Venlil that were this feisty, and he wasn’t even part of the new generation of unmodded Skalgans. I was a little concerned about passing through security now, and not just because metal detectors would have a lot of problems with me. Perhaps I should contact the Terran embassy and ask if we’d established diplomatic immunity on Skalga…

“The ferret goes home, or the ferret burns,” Rauln said darkly, wiggling his claws in a threatening manner. “I know it’s a carnivore. The side-facing eyes don’t fool me. I’ll put it with the rest of the kindling!”

Justine moved the suitcase further away from the angry Venlil. “You wouldn’t. Fuzzy is a cute little guy…”

“Humans and fuzzy things. I see a flammable beast; I see more than one, if you keep giving me trouble!”

“Rauln, we haven’t carried flamethrowers for two decades. You haven’t been allowed to carry a weapon for ten years; that’s why we’re on spaceport duty,” William commented. “Don’t listen to him, ma’am. Take the ferret and keep going.”

Justine gulped, and walked past the angry Venlil, bumping shoulders with him. Rauln set his livid gaze on his partner, as the line of incoming passengers continued to back up. Flamethrowers…were these people exterminators? Apart from William’s metallic jacket, they didn’t look like a predator-burning crew; plus, I thought Skalga had gotten rid of that institution. This wasn’t who I expected to welcome us to the Venlil world at one of the most tourist-heavy spaceports. Knowing full well I was the next one up to deal with these individuals, I shuffled up to the security checkpoint with reluctant steps. The duo hadn’t even noticed me, through their fixation with each other.

“You undermined my authority, you long-pig slouch!” Rauln roared. “That was my moment. I never get to attack humans anymore! They say I can’t be trusted…ha. Me, the most reformed, progressive exterminator—I mean, I put up with you.”

William raised his eyebrows. “No, I put up with you, Puff the Magic Xeno. And look what you’ve done! This is why they don’t trust you. I count three holopads out recording us—”

“I will break their SIM cards, and their arms!” Two of the filming Terrans lowered their holopads, and Rauln made blistering eye contact with the last one, until they also relented. “That’s what I thought. I will find you if you post that!”

“You can’t call us exterminators anymore either.”

“Oh yeah, we’re the ‘Planetwatch.’ What mewlers made up that name?! I’m an exterminator, and as for the ‘no flamethrower’ claims, there’s more than one way to burn ferrets! Next.”

More than one way to burn ferrets. Is that the new “more than one way to skin a cat?”

I raised a hesitant hand, hopeful that my metal body would make me somewhat resistant to getting leveled. “Right here. Elias Meier. You might’ve seen me on the news recently.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed? Do you think you’re the first dead human I’ve seen up and about?” Rauln hissed.

“I…really hope so?”

William facepalmed, shaking his head. “Rauln had a very interesting acid trip at his thirtieth birthday party, and ever since then, he’s gone all Sheepbuster and believes in ghosts.”

“I can send you to the afterlife now if you don’t believe me. Then you’ll see,” the Venlil grumbled. “Fuck, Meier must’ve witnessed it to back me up; he came back from the dead. What was it like to be a ghost?”

I recoiled, as the Venlil knocked on the back of my hand to hear the sound. “Personal space? It wasn’t really like—”

“It’s definitely freaky to think they took your brain’s likeness and put it into a machine,” William interjected. “I got one of those brain scans a few years ago, for a museum exhibit on historical reform by that Curator Haysi; she’s old as dirt! Got a pretty penny for it, but now, I wonder if they could do…that to me. Or they could upload me to a USB, and I’d be, like, stuck in there.”

“How do you know you’re not in one right now?” Rauln countered. “Maybe the Venlil were never real.”

“Because no simulation could render a face as ugly as yours.”

“Aw. I thought you were gonna say no simulation could create the hideous face you saw in the mirror.”

“I can’t look in the mirror, Rauln. It broke from having to reflect your noseless face. You look like sludge that fell off a damn cement truck and hardened as fucked up as possible. The Farsul special.”

“Oh, you know all about the Farsul special, Willy the Lovestruck. She drags you around by the—”

An angry tourist cupped his hands to his face, shouting at the duo. “Hey, speed it up! We don’t have all day.”

“I’ll work at whatever pace I please. You’re on my fucking planet! You mangy gluttons are the ones who came to me!” Rauln screeched.

“I’m done waiting for you to sit there and bicker about ghosts. I’m leaving. We’re leaving, right now. They can’t stop all of us.”

The line behind me began to break up, as impatient tourists followed the heckler’s lead. The crowd bypassed Rauln and William’s checkpoint, ignoring the Venlil’s protests. I watched as they filtered out into the wider terminal, and the facial recognition cameras overhead struggled to keep up. My first inclination was to join them, but the two Planetwatch officers were standing in my direct path. The last thing I needed was to run over a Venlil civil servant, and enjoy the negative publicity that would bring upon synthetic lifeforms. I stood as still as possible, half-hoping they’d chase after the crowd and unblock my path. One of them seemed to be considering it, and it wasn’t the Terran. With an exasperated expression, the herbivore guard swung a paw into William’s bicep.

“What are you doing? Stop them!” the Venlil hissed to his human partner.

William shrugged with nonchalance. “He had a point. We can’t stop all of them.”

“Yes, you can! You have a weapon.”

“And if I pop civilians entering Skalga, I will join you in not having a weapon.”

“They’re violating our sovereignty. Trampling over order and the law!”

I cleared my throat, though that sound no longer produced a scratchy feeling on my tongue. “So can I go now?”

“Yes, yes. You know, there’s a club for paranormal enthusiasts here in Dayside—once a week, we give ghost tours, investigate sightings and activities, compile evidence. It’s at Kaulin’s Bar, super human-friendly place. You should come to our meeting later today; you’d be a hit.”

“I’ll think about it, if my schedule allows for it,” I fibbed. “Life of a diplomat.”

I hurried off into the rest of the crowd, swiping my luggage from the table next to the Planetwatch officers. Hopefully, the remainder of the journey to visit Tarva and Noah Williams would be less memorable. I couldn’t help thinking that the spaceport guards did have one excellent point. Anyone’s likeness could be uploaded into any machine with a recorded neural layout and enough processing power to house it: without a say or an escape. As torturous as this revival had been at times, it could’ve been much worse. There was the chance to continue my work and reconnect with old friends. I hoped the former governor would be pleased to see a robotic version of me, especially after the harrowing circumstances we’d parted under…and what I asked her to do. Knowing full well that dealing with the Arxur hurt her.

I remember seeing what was then-called Venlil Prime, with the fledgling embassy and refugee camps. Humans fled here desperate to get out of dodge with Kalsim on the way. So much has changed, mostly for the better.

While the population was still predominantly Venlil, our influence was evident. I passed a specialty shop within the spaceport called “Goods of Earth.” Certain souvenirs at other stores, like stuffed animals and snow globes, were clearly targeted at a Terran demographic. Some advertising to visitors seemed a bit too soon, offering a hotel package designed to recreate running from Earth’s bombing—with livable bunkers and exterminator actors. It was lost on me why people would want to recreate that, but given that several of my kind were gathered around the holographic ad and discussing interest in it, it must’ve been popular. A banner was hanging over the exit doors, reading in English and Venlil, “Proudly Celebrating 25 Years of the (Human-Venlil) Exchange Program! Sign Up for the 2161 Class Today.” I mused joining, imagining the shock it’d be for a modern Skalgan to get…me as a partner.

Even outside the tourist hub, I couldn’t help but notice that Venlil street vendors had special menus and offerings of condiments for humans. One stand was doing exterminator cooking, placing food inside special containers and blasting it with a flamethrower. The Skalgan performer was doing a host of tricks with the incendiary device, and had accrued a massive crowd and line for his nourishment. Further back, I could spot a history museum—perhaps where William had gotten his scan—advertising exhibits based on the Archives, and Venlil fighting back against Federation invaders. Part of me was also compelled to get the tourist experience in Dayside City, but I had to stay focused. I allowed myself a brief listen to the narrated teaser outside, regardless, as it moved to more modern affairs.

“The legacy of Governor Veln’s visor law: a short-lived, poorly-enforced, and unpopular mandate to cater to rural tastes. Humans were once uncommon in small communities on Skalga, and exposure to so-called predators remained limited in the countryside until the most recent decade,” the display outside narrated. “While it was repealed after Veln lost re-election, the discrimination lawsuits that followed against the Venlil government, and businesses or towns that enforced it, were the center of much media attention in the SC. The public fervor was enhanced by leaks of the former governor’s sordid exploits, notably involving affairs with human escorts. Streaming title The Trial of Veln captures the larger-than-life spectacle of his fall from grace.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at that explanation, comparing it internally to Tarva’s dignified mannerisms and open-minded acceptance of humanity. How had she lost an election to a clown like Veln? I supposed she had her own skeletons in her closet, having romantic involvement with the UN ambassador—who she picked out as our representative. Perhaps I would’ve scolded the two for it when I found out at the time, but that ship had sailed twenty-four years ago. My present hope was to find them both living well, and to see just how much their children took after them. I wandered toward the Governor’s District train; while Tarva longer lived in the leader’s mansion that I could see on the horizon, she did have an upscale home in the residential area near it. She must’ve been used to the local sights and amenities.

“Well, Virnt, if you’re watching now, I hope your patch for the motion sickness works,” I mumbled to myself. “This could be a long train ride if not.”

It dawned on me as I trundled onto the cart what was missing, which I hadn’t quite been able to put my finger on: the elevated sense of Skalga’s gravity, exacerbating aches and making me feel the extra pressure and weight on my skeleton. This synthetic form was much more durable, with a higher load bearing capacity. I wondered to myself if I was stronger now; perhaps I could out-bench press bodybuilders, something that would’ve been a laughable idea to me once. Maybe having my kind as firefighters and EMTs could save lives, if we had the power to lift cars off of a person. I made a mental note to test myself in a gym once I got back to Earth, before settling down in an empty seat. Several Venlil were openly staring, and whispered among themselves.

“Didn’t the exterminators scan him, after he died?” one questioned.

Their partner flicked an ear in agreement. “I don’t know how to feel about…how we even handle it. Are we just going to act like this is a normal Terran citizen? How do we know it’s really Elias Meier, not some…AI emulating him?”

“There’s no way to say for sure. I wouldn’t want some hollow copy of myself, walking around in some tin can body. The real me would be dead anyway, lights still gone out upstairs.”

I turned my head around toward them, frowning. “I can hear you, you know.”

“We’re…sorry. It doesn’t leave a positive taste in our mouth, that human tech companies are copy-pasting people’s brains!” one brayed in response.

“I know it’s unusual, and imagine how I feel. Elias would’ve agreed with you on a lot of it, but it’s still unkind to say that to a sapient being’s face. If there’s one thing I’d hope we have learned in the past two decades, it’s to try to be accepting, even of people we don’t understand—because one day, those people could be you.”

The two Venlil shared a glance, before switching over to an uncomfortable silence. I bit my lip, hearing several of their own questions and judgments rolling around in their head. The self-doubts had relented a bit around Syba, but being faced with opposition to my present existence always dug up those demons. I turned my eyes toward the window as the train began moving, noticing only nominal discomfort in my gut. A distraction in the form of what I spied in the passing streets would be quite welcome. I spotted a sign that said, “Skalga Counseling Center,” which returned a smile to my lips. After how the Venlil used to handle “predator disease” cases, I was elated to see that it’d changed for the better.

There has been a lot of progress here on Skalga, and it seems they’ve restored some of their roots. Is that a strange wrestling gym I see, whizzing by us? I swear, the Venlil I glimpsed inside were butting heads with each other.

I continued to observe my surroundings, noting the landmarks of each district, as we drew closer to the place I’d spent most of my time. The UN embassy had a great deal of foot traffic, with our flag flying proudly in the air alongside the similar Sapient Coalition one; any Venlil who had business with Earth seemed to visit here. We had full security checkpoints at the compound now, as beefy as the ones back in Vienna. I remembered when the human generals came to visit this place, with none other than Kam petrified of allowing us onto his world—fur sticking out from any unexpected noise. Despite the earlier commentary, it was a positive that the gossiping Venlil on the train at least seemed unafraid of me. That was better than what I’d encountered on The Sailer, regardless.

The scenery began to look a bit more familiar as I drew closer to Tarva’s home, until my gaze unmistakably latched onto a rowhouse that I remembered in vivid detail. There was some new construction added to it, likely to patch up the burn damage, but I was sucked back to a moment in time I didn’t want to be. After my resolution to reach out to the Federation visitors and pledging to form our own alien union, it’d seemed we were on the right track. I’d known that it was all crumbling down around me, as the dust irritated my lungs and air passageways. The terrible ringing in my ears—tinnitus that felt like a rattling screw was inside my eardrum. I pressed hands to my earlobes in the present time, keeling over.

The rowhouses were on fire in my mind, as chaos ensued: protestors clashing with UN officers, and the sounds of people screaming. The mangled injuries that I’d seen were utterly horrifying, except I hadn’t had time to process it after the fact. Tarva had looked at me with reproach, like humans were monsters, so disappointed by the chaos and violence unfolding around her. There had been regret swirling in her horizontal pupils, as if she wished she’d never brought us here at all. That was what she thought of us in my last moments alive; I hadn’t known how she could forgive us. My own pain and despondency had been like a stabbing pain in my heart, peeling off the fresh scab of the grief from Earth’s death toll.

Gunshots. A pop, causing me to stagger with Axsely in my arms. Her fur was soft. I’m falling forward into the car, and my dress shirt feels like I’ve spilled a drink on it.

I could feel shivers running down my spine in the present time, as I was left cold and fading. Tarva held me in her arms, while it was difficult to come by any thoughts. I remembered latching onto that conversation with Isif, where I’d also been alone and terrified in that dark Titan hotel room. The Venlil was gray, almost the same gray as Arxur scales—it’d been a funny thought, in that last gasp, yet not filling me with mirth at all. I didn’t want her to hate us. I didn’t want humanity’s hope for the future to fall apart; I’d been desperate to try to make things better! It was so difficult to speak, so difficult to move, so distant to watch from inside my own body…

Did Tarva think we were animals? The feeling of suffocation was so strong, as it became more difficult to draw breaths; past and present were one, but I knew that I couldn’t breathe now, and felt its absence become unbearable. I wanted to sob, with all of the emotions and images cycling around my brain. We were moving away from the rowhouses, just like we had en route to the hospital. There was no fighting the Reaper’s touch, with all of the uncertainties that entailed. My legacy was that I’d failed humanity and Earth; the gunshot sound played on loop, and my hand drifted to an imaginary wound on my stomach. The scenery had me locked in that moment, recalling the less peaceful side of death…

“Elias!” Virnt’s voice spoke into my ears, despite the fact the Tilfish was nowhere to be seen. “Snap out of it. Look at the ground. I believe seeing the place where you died again triggered some…memories, and not good ones. I’m sure it’s a difficult event to remember; Skalga holds a lot of baggage for you, and that’s okay. You’re fine. You’re okay.”

I realized that my mouth was hanging open, as I strickenly tried to suck in breaths and sat folded up against the window. The passengers were definitely staring at me now, so I raised a hand to assure them I was fine—despite the fact that I felt like I’d been running from a grizzly bear. I knew I couldn’t answer the Tilfish out loud, or they’d really think I was crazy, talking to myself. The first aliens to hear a human arguing aloud with themselves must’ve…well, that was neither here nor there.

Sorry, I got caught up in a memory cascade for a moment. Did you just speak inside my mind, Virnt?

“Yes. You seemed like you were spiraling and needed a jolt. It’s easy enough to transmit audio data straight to your sensors, since your ears are basically just a microphone—which I’m speaking into! How did you think the UN was going to communicate, if something went wrong out on the Sailer?” the scientist answered.

So I’m hearing voices that aren’t there now, thanks to your little technology. That’ll go over great. You can be inside my head whenever you…

“I respect your privacy typically, but I was just trying to help. I didn’t want you to have a breakdown on the train, Elias. Look, I’ll get out of your ear; why don’t you look at something to ground you? Transport yourself back to the Sailer instead. I know you kept the messages you got after that meeting, and you could listen to those to wind back down.”

Fine. That’s not a bad idea, but GET OUT!

I was glad that I could manually blink several times, as a way to try to snap myself out of it. It was unsettling to hear Virnt’s phantom voice in my skull, but it had been a better option than getting locked into replaying the moment of my death. It hadn’t even occurred to me that Skalga might cause all of it to come rushing back, with all of the fight-or-flight responses and overwhelming stimuli that were burned into my brain. Pulling up my messages on the holopad, I spotted a text from Syba; it read: “I need a robotic me, even if I’m still alive, to handle all the phone calls I’m getting. Can you ask the UN to speed up the Sulean clone assembly line?” In spite of myself, that earned a chuckle.

Trying to keep my mind focused on my current life, I thumbed through the recording I had of the call I received on the way back from the Sailer, and hit play. The results of my speech had offered something of a verdict on whether digital me was good enough, and whether I had failed humanity once more when we needed allies to survive.