The Nature of Predators

Memory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Alien Liaison

Date [standardized human time]: December 25, 2160

It felt strange to utilize a sideswim again, rather than walking around. Water was very much tied to Bissems’ relaxation, as evidenced by the flotation tank salons that passed by on every street corner. Sitting at home, watching the livestream broadcasts, had proven unconducive to my recovery. The screens were all too happy to plaster the darkness of the world and the aliens in front of my face. The two were often intertwined, as evidenced by a group of Zurulian-and-human doctors working for charities, tending to victims on both sides in the war zones. Even in a story as grisly as that, there were helpers. There were good people in the stars. I just had to remember how to be one of them.

Maybe the irony was considering why aliens had been so captivating. It was about us more than them—how much I wanted to escape the world I’d come running back to. Ivrana was a flawed planet that I’d hoped could change with the waggle of a flipper, yet reality wasn’t so simple. I bore some personal responsibility for losing sight of what mattered. My work became more important than my family, almost like scanning the skies was my religion rather than the teachings of Hirs. I remember listening to the verse readings from the pulpit, with one that had sat framed on my FAI desk.

“The mysteries of the heavens are not as strange yet as the mysteries of the soul.”

My work belongings had been sent to my apartment in a box, and I’d stared at that plaque for quite a while. The Tassi that sat in an office all day had died with first contact, but maybe her optimism could live on. All of the politics and exploration in the world wasn’t going to make me feel whole, when what I truly wanted was to form a meaningful connection with someone else. I hadn’t spoken to my coworkers at Fishing for Alien Intelligence in months: not one of them. That was why I was heading to the fish guts bar where we used to go and drink on special occasions, hoping to run into a familiar face. I wondered how they felt about everything that had played out. Were they excited over the ubiquity of extraterrestrials?

Sivkits and Farsul both living on our world. That makes them accessible enough to the public, even without a spaceship to hop on.

“What’s the idea with letting those long ears squat in our backyard?” I heard a Bissem voice ask outside the bar, which gave me pause. “I’ve seen a couple walking down the streets and made sure to take the long way around. For all we know, they’re dusting the air with the cure.”

His conversation partner bobbed her flippers. “It’s no secret what they do to meat-eaters. Rest of the galaxy had the right idea letting them flounder. I mean, what the fuck is our government doing?”

“Moving every alien right on in. I don’t trust them, and I don’t see why we’re paying for them to get free housing. I don’t see Lassmin ponying up for us. Never see a Farsul working long days and nights, missing their fucking kids for a couple pence.”

“Have you ever actually spoken to a Farsul?” the words spilled from my mouth, before I could stop myself. “They’re displaced civilians who were locked on their own planet for all the shit you just mentioned—which they had nothing to do with.”

The male Vritala rounded on me, putting his beak inches from my face. “What kind of alien sympathizing scum do we have here?”

“She’s one of them FAI bastards. Rode with that bald animal in the car—she brought them here!” the other accused.

The door swung open, and I recognized a Vritala named Klasso came to stand protectively in front of me. “Is there a problem? Dr. Tassi did not bring the aliens here; they contacted us. As I remember it, the Lassian military came to our offices, shut the place down, and dragged her there.”

“And I do sympathize with aliens. People that come from space are still people,” I spat. “You just want a scapegoat. Someone to blame and hate for all your problems.”

“Tassi, get inside.” Klasso pulled me backward, into the safety of the pub. He stared down the two strutting Bissems for a moment. “Ignorant fools. Why don’t you pick on someone your own size next time?”

The former FAI staffer slammed the door shut in their faces, and I ducked my head with gratitude. He herded me over to a stool adjacent to his by the bar, resuming the sipping from his glass. Klasso had been a specialist in identifying astronomical phenomena, often able to rule out strange signals as the results of pulsars, magnetars, or other celestial bodies. There was talk around the office that he was a bit of a neuroholic, but he was typically kind and thoughtful at work. The Vritala lifted a flipper to flag down the bartender, before ordering a round for each of us. I held the glass in my grasp with uncertainty, always having been too straight-laced for day drinking.

Reminding myself that I was here to relax and destress, I chugged the stringy fluids; the oil taste linger in my mouth, as the neurotoxins absorbed into my bloodstream. There was a fish called the Memlifin on Ivrana, whose flesh was supposed to be poisonous. In small doses, however, it could have psychological effects on Bissems. Alien races would not be able to consume it, since it could have lethal consequences. I’d heard of at least one instance of humans having to be forcibly denied access to it multiple times, as they insisted it would be fine. Perhaps they believed it was the carnivore equivalent of alcohol, and while that was true socially, it was a rather different chemical compound. The primates shouldn’t be too keen to order death in a bottle.

Leaning back, I glanced up at the TV screen and the picture of an orange ocean. It was then I noticed the fluffy white mammals on a boat, and tilted my head in curiosity. Klasso followed my gaze, snickering.

“Bringing the Sivkits here was ingenious, Tassi. Turns out they have a taste for all of that algae that’s gotten us into a doom cycle,” the Vritala remarked. “An undo button to an insurmountable problem. There’s already been a noticeable decrease in the waters nearest to Nelmin.”

I gawked at the screen. “You’re kidding me! In that case, I hope the Tinsas issue won’t be sorted out so fast. I’m almost willing to turn a blind eye to the fact that they knew who was behind the Starlight Incident.”

“They what?!”

“Oh. That’s…not going to make that duo out there like the Farsul anymore. It’s probably for the best that I don’t elaborate.” I could already feel some airiness in my skull, as a complete lightweight. I had to push the conversation off of me, before I started spilling classified information and inflammatory tales like how the humans tried to blackmail me. “How’s life been treating you post-first contact?”

“Well, I don’t get a FAI paycheck anymore. A lot of the staff moved to either running scientific studies on aliens, or working for the diplomatic corps that has…hundreds of these guys to deal with. Many won’t talk to us directly, but I hear you’ve been changing that.”

“You flatter me, Klasso; I don’t think I had that much to do with it. You said a lot of the staff. I asked about you. Are you chasing a Sivkit down a sideswim with a lab needle?”

Klasso chuckled. “My specialty is listening to radio signals and matching them up with stars, not lifeguard duty on Nelmin. Which is a thing too—there’ve been several drowning incidents from the algae craze, which is why they’ve been given boats. And still drown hanging over them. Not the brightest bulbs.”

“The Federation dumbed them down on purpose, and it sounds like they once were just like us. I got to read a bit of their old theater. It was highbrow, very articulate and polished with ideas—sane worldviews. I want to throw their ambassador out an airlock, but I do think their species could improve. If we help in some small way…and you’re dodging my question about your job.”

The Vritala lifted his glass, downing it quickly and signaling for another. “My knowledge is useless now. I have a job as bouncer here now. Clearly, I’m doing it so well.”

“Klasso, are you sure it’s a good idea to be…you know. Around Memlifin all the time? I have connections. I could get you a job super far away from here, exciting as could be. Maybe talk to some observatory on Earth that’d take the first Bissem astronomer…”

“Not all of us are ready to pack up and leave Ivrana at a moment’s notice. I’m fine, but thanks for offering, Tassi. If I really wanted to, Hirs knows they’re recruiting half the damn planet—qualified or not—to deal with the alien diplomacy shit. Everyone who wanted to landed on their feet.”

I studied him with concern, shooting the bartender a look before they could bring the next round. “Change is hard, Klasso. I know you’re a smart guy, and I know the aliens are…more complicated than we expected. I’ve come home to take care of myself, because I neglected my personal life chasing what I thought I had to do. We never talked enough for me to know your story, but you shouldn’t be holding yourself together with tape and glue either.”

“You can’t save everyone. I’m gone, Tassi. You think they want a perpetually intoxicated scientist with obsolete skills running point on diplomacy, especially with how fucked it all is. I’d just make everything worse. You…you’re doing good. All of us from FAI are proud of you.”

“Don’t say that. There’s nothing to be proud of; I achieved absolutely nothing.”

“No, you just didn’t do everything you hoped for. The small victories add up, and then you turn them into big ones. I’ll take it you unraveled the bit about, if I understood, the Sivkits knowing that the Farsul attacked Ivrana.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Exactly, and you got the answers. Shit, that could wrap up the war here on Ivrana, since they’ll all want to point their guns at the ones who attacked us. Peace at home again…a common enemy that isn’t a scapegoat might do us some good. Remind us that we aren’t that different. I already heard there were talks about a treaty going down, ever since Aafa—something good came of that.”

I recoiled. “An entire planet wiped out is not a positive thing, Klasso. It’s like I said about the Farsul; we should care. They were people.”

“That’s not what I mean. I just meant even in the worst places, there’s a reason for hope. If I was up with those SC delegates, I’d get wrapped up in all the large-scale catastrophes and world-ending shit too. There’s nothing you did or could’ve done with that. You’ve found a little wiggle room to work; that’s all we can ask.”

“I…I’m tired. There’s only so many catastrophes one person can watch.”

“So don’t watch. Just put your feet up, relax, and stop trying to stop the bartender from handing me my way out.”

I shot Klasso a stern look. “I’ve resigned myself to making things better in small ways. One of those is not letting you rack up any more organ damage for today. A lot of Bissem areas of expertise are obsolete or outshadowed now, but we have to reinvent ourselves. Catch up and learn. Take control of our future!”

“Start over completely from scratch. Right. That’s totally plausible.”

“You at least want to talk to some humans; you never got the chance. Let me reach out and see if there’s any observatories that would take you. No one’s going to make you commit and leave Ivrana, but it might be a good thing for you.”

“If you insist. A free vacation to an alien planet is too good to pass up,” Klasso replied. “Besides, I was always jealous that you were the only one who got to chat up that curly-haired nerd. He and I are the same person practically.”

I found myself thinking about why Dustin had never ratted out Jones to the UN, and what Meier would do about it. “Dustin was…is a good guy. You’ll have fun with the humans, long as they show you their nice side.”

“Don’t tempt me. Now I have to bring out their mean streak: it’s an irresistible challenge.”

Be careful what you wish for Klasso. Just take the cushy observatory job and let them smile with innocence: trust me.

Engaging with a Bissem who wasn’t Naltor or Zalk, and had more grounded concerns than the developments of a war or an alien alliance, had been a relief. I felt like I might’ve been able to help my old colleague find his footing, after first contact had left him rudderless. There were flashes of ways that I could make a difference, even if the improvements to my surroundings were microscopic. It was assuring to know that my passionate cohorts at FAI looked up to the work I’d been doing, in spite of the tumultuous emotions I shouldered about how impossible it was. After a few days on Ivrana, I was ready to give humanity and the Sapient Coalition a second chance. My people were looking up to me to represent the average Bissem, and to pave the path for a future where we could thrive.