The Nature of Predators - Krev Exchange Program (2/?) (Patreon)

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Memory Transcription Subject: Flevi, Krev Opinion Columnist

Date [standardized human time]: March 30, 2160

There was no set date for the participants to meet up, like there had been in the Venlil exchange program. In-person introductions were supposed to happen organically, though as part of the signup deal, the Krev government would compensate travel plans and other expenses if we submitted them. I had to figure out a way to get Indrek to speak with me again; we’d barely scratched the surface of sharing our personal lives! I’d published an article about being chosen for the exchange program, which had gotten a lot of engagement—but many on the internet were doubtful of my claim that I’d been selected, let alone paired with the miners’ strike leader. 

Posting the video of our first conversation, without Indrek’s permission, might piss him off and ensure he’d never agree to participate in a feature. I couldn’t risk the human stumbling across it. Not to mention that the contents would humiliate me, and remind the readers that I’d championed the idea of blowing these primates to bits. However, my editor was clamoring for me to show proof that Indrek was a real person; the accusations that I’d invented him were gaining traction with each day that passed. Hadn’t my exchange partner said he wanted to acquire information about “the enemy?” How could he accomplish his goals without doing that? He hadn’t answered any of my apologetic messages, or timid questions. I had to tell him something new, to give me a chance of winning him over. 

The clock is ticking on my career, and he might never answer me, so if he wants out for good, I need to make him say it. I can send a possible truth that creates a sense of urgency, right?

I drummed my claws against the keyboard. >Hi, Indrek. Look, if you don’t talk to me, the exchange program will be terminated. The Krev see inactivity and will determine it’s a failed pairing. Is that what you want? I only ask because I thought you wanted this chance to learn about us.

Within a few seconds of sitting back from the keyboard, I saw a typing indicator, which gave me a jolt of hope. >>I learned a lot from that patronizing, degrading way you treated me. Don’t see what I’ll get from talking, when I told you that we won’t be friends—and you won’t be honest with me. You want to know my whole life story, is that right? Isn’t that fucking cliche?

>I do want to know about you, Indrek, and I don’t care if it’s cliche. Maybe that’s something to you. It’s not about trying to patronize you, though I must admit, you’re melting my heart. My reactions weren’t intended. I do care enough to inquire about your past, and I think a lot of people would. You deserve for someone to hear everything you say and feel. Remember what I promised about a platform. Your words could reach every Krev home by this time tomorrow. What do you say?

The human began typing, before the indicator paused. I was worried I might’ve scared him off with something I said, but an incoming video call request assuaged my fears. It was breathtaking how a creature could be this adorable, pressing all the right cuteness buttons. Indrek was wearing a shirt with plaid patterns, which left little branch-like lines intersected and pointing up to his chin fur; the beard looked so soft and pettable! The effort it took not to coo at him was only made possible when I realized he’d disconnect on the spot. There was interest in his blue eyes, and like any abused obor at the kennel, I didn’t want to spook him. I forced a scowl onto my face, in the hopes I’d look somewhat serious.

“How do I know you won’t censor me? Cut what I’m saying into pieces to look adorable?” Indrek questioned. “I don’t trust you one bit.”

I cleared my throat, using my claws to cover fawning mouth shape. “You can see for yourself what I post; you can look it over before I finalize it. What reason do I have to post misleading footage of you? Why would I burn you as a source, when I really do want to keep talking to you?”

“Maybe that’s true, but you’ll just dismiss what I’m saying as primates being ‘angry’ and ‘violent.’ What’s to make your readers, who’d be the ones who would’ve agreed with your shitty takes, any different?”

“What I meant was that violence is a part of you and your history, which we see and accept—very unlike the Federation! It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and it wasn’t said in judgment. I’ll be very forthright, since you think I’m not honest with you. The readers will feel sympathy for you, and how you’ve suffered. I imagine they’ll want to reach out and help you. Surely you can see we’ve all reversed our stance on humans.”

Indrek flashed his teeth, the strange expression of his species; it was as if they wanted to show off how proud they were of their clean teeth, with their baby canines and flat incisors. It looked much more free than an obor’s fear grimace, but with enough of the same markers that I wanted to scoop the anxious darling up in my arms. I realized from the snort that it was a disbelieving laugh. His lips sealed back over his dentures much too soon, and I returned my musings to what he thought was funny. Had I said something wrong again? I didn’t want my exchange partner to leave, when I hadn’t had a chance to redeem myself to him—and the Krev public—yet.

“What’s so funny?” I prompted him cautiously.

The human sighed. “It’s a cosmic joke. We hide our faces, you fuck us over like every other alien, and now you act like we’re adorable munchkins. That ‘stance reversal’ makes it all okay. We’re just supposed to roll over and forget, like good little boys!”

“I don’t want you to forget anything. I just want to try to fix it, and make it better. We can’t change what we did, only the future. What can I do to make this right, Indrek? Tell me and I’ll do it. I want you to be happy.”

“I need to think on that. Same for what statement I’ll give to you and your little tribune.”

“That’s good. Wait, don’t go! Why don’t I answer more of your questions? You want info on us, and I want to talk. I won’t fuck it up, like the last time.”

The human arched his eyebrows, seeing to catch my pleading desperation. “Good heavens, Flevi. You really want to talk to me that much?”

“Yes. Ask me anything—anything at all!”

“Hmph. Well, I have to wonder. Do any Krev not like obors? It’s like they’re all innocent and fucking perfect to you, but then you go out and say they’re violent. Mixed messaging.”

“Oh, an untrained obor is incredibly destructive,” I answered. “Some Krev don’t want to have one because of that. It’s why assholes who get frustrated with their baby oborling send them out in the streets, and you wind up with strays.”

“I don’t know how you get an animal and just turn ‘em loose on the street. That’s a right shame. Almost as bad at the people who mistreat their pets…or is that just violent humans who do that?”

“It’s awful to think about, but there’s Krev who tie their obors to trees or physically abuse them. I guess to fully answer your original question, there are also people who don’t like them or find them cute, usually because they’ve been the victim of an obor attack. Obors who are violent—too aggressive—can’t be rehomed and get put down.”

Indrek’s lips curved down in the most heartwarming way, making his precious mouth shaped like a rainbow. “If I wanted to rescue an aggressive obor, how might I go about doing that?”

“You’d have to visit a shelter on Avor, but you wouldn’t want to do that. I think you’d be absolutely precious with an obor, but I hope that’s a hypothetical. If you really want to look into adoption, get a nice, harmless obor. That is, unless humans, with your primate ancestry, want your pets to be violent and true to your roots.”

“This again? Fuck you!”

“Hey. I’m not judging, just uh—help me understand. I really…I’m not trying to upset you. Would you be happier if I just agree with your suggestions, no commentary at all?”

“What? No! The last thing I want’s a fucking yes man—er, woman. I want you to treat me like a human being, not some big, dumb red-blooded ape! You owe me that basic courtesy.”

I raised my claws defensively. “I don’t know what it even means to treat you like a human being. You won’t tell me!”

“For fuck’s sake. You’re a horrible person, you know that? I can’t stand you.”

I flinched as Indrek spat those last words, working himself back up into a rage at me. He hated any time I lumped him in with primates, but what I said couldn’t have been that bad. Did he think that I was irredeemable because of my articles? Maybe I deserved that, profiting off of cute primates’ suffering; I was the same as the monsters who abused obors. I helped feed the very attitudes that made Gress push the humans into overdoing their drill output, and injured this man’s friends. Whatever could be said about me, the thought that I was a murderer, and that the adorable, scruffy miner couldn’t stand the sight of me, stung worse than I could bear. There was nothing I could say. Tears welled in my eyes, as I turned away from the camera.

I told him I was sorry, and that I really wanted to talk to him. I care about him, yet I’m trying to use him to save my journalism career.

“You’re right. I can’t stand me either, not after the things I said in my articles. Rage baiting people, getting my fame selling hatred,” I responded, hanging my head. “My career is utterly fucked, because nobody gives a shit what I think about topics aside from humans. Even now, I persuaded you to make a statement so my editor would stop pushing me; and I’m pushing you. I do want to help, but I don’t know how the fuck to do that. It’s just…not what I do. I manufacture outrage, not charity or cute interviews.”

For the first time, there was the hint of something softer in Indrek’s eyes. “It’s okay, Flevi. I mean, it’s not fucking okay, but…don’t cry. Please don’t. That was good, right there, being honest. Answer me this. Do you even like what you do?”

“I like that people are interested in what I have to say, and talking about my ideas. I like being needed by my website, congratulated on how well the pieces are doing, and being invited to prestigious events. It’s not like I’ll ever get nominated for an Illuminatory Award, since I don’t do real journalism. I get clicks.”

“You’re not proud of that. What’s stopping you from doing ‘real journalism?’ What even made you get into this line of work in the first place? Like, if you want to create charity or…bleh, I can’t believe I’m suggesting this…cute videos of humans peeling bananas, then go and just fucking do it.”

“It’s not that easy. There’s no market for that kind of thing, and I want to be successful, not selling my scales to put food on the table. I worked hard, and fought a ton of obstacles and prejudices to get here. I grew up without anything, Indrek, not even a roof over my head. My mother died during childbirth, and my dad got injured in a construction accident—took him years to get the government to approve his disability pay, with the nerve damage to his left forearm. He couldn’t do physical labor anymore and didn’t have the education for much else.”

The hatred and hostility were absent, as the primate’s mesmerizing pupils stared at me. “You understand what the miners are going through then.”

“I do. I don’t want to see them get thrown in the gutter like my dad. There might be a chance for that not to happen here, because humans are cute: right or wrong, it helps you. I meant that you deserved to get your message out, even if my motives are a bit selfish. I don’t want to see you let yourself go, and die much too young from an overdose of pain pills. I…hate thinking…”

“Well, shit. I thought you had some easy, gift-wrapped life with a golden spoon. I guess there’s more to you than meets the eye. Your Paps, wherever he is, I hope he’s at peace.”

“I wish he could’ve picked himself up, and seen me make something of myself. He always told me that he wanted me to go places. When I tell you I grew up without a roof over my head—we lived in the old forest, inside hollowed-out tree trunks like some ancient Krev foragers. I’d show up to that dumb, rural school muddied up. They said I was a cira. It’s hard to explain the concept, but basically a sorceress that lives out in the woods.”

“A witch. No, I get the idea. That must’ve been difficult on you. You were just a child, and you had less shelter than we did in our caverns. I…shouldn’t have envied you.”

“Ha, you would’ve hated it all. The stares. The pointing. I was a real object for people’s amusement, an oddity. I got so sick of the giggles and rumors of being a cira that I went along with it, scared them off on purpose. Would just sit and burn stick dolls ominously.”

Indrek flashed his teeth with amusement. “That’s amazing! They already made up their minds, so fuck ‘em; confirm what they think. That’s what we should’ve done with the Feddies, crying how we’re monstrous predators. Just pull a real power move and chug on a juice packet that looks like blood.”

“It wasn’t a ‘power move’ to me. I hated feeling like an outsider. Knowing they’d judged me before they ever knew a thing about me, and that I’d never be more than that to them.”

“You do understand that you’re doing the same thing to me, with the ‘precious baby’ bullshittery, right?”

“I’m not judging you in a negative light, or looking down on you. It’d be wonderful to know more about you!”

“Flevi.” Indrek closed his eyes, somehow looking even more vulnerable and innocuous with his gaze sealed shut. He drew a slow breath, before the blue irises blinked back open. “You’re not seeing me for who I am. You don’t take me seriously; even when you act like you feel bad for what’s happened to humans, it’s because we’re cute to you. Do you want to be treated like a full adult?”

“Yeah. I feel bad that you lost your home, and were terrified we’d hate you. It’s made worse because you’re cute, to us, but I don’t mean that it’s actually worse. I’ll try to take you more seriously, although it’s…so hard to read anything negative in you.”

“I have a lot of negative feelings, so you’re not understanding me if you don’t read the darkness.”

Indrek was being much more receptive to what I was saying to him, since I’d opened up about myself; this was how the exchange program was supposed to go, pouring one’s heart and backstory out to a soul from another species! There was a kindness within the human, even if he’d sealed it off from me. It would take a long time for him to trust an alien, but I thought we’d made some real progress. Maybe he’d consider rescinding what he said about not being friends, if I could handle myself better around him? I didn’t dare to push my luck today. After what I’d admitted about my articles, there was no doubt that I’d burned my chances of saving my career—yet I felt so much better. 

He had a point about learning to do real journalism, which I could be proud of. I’m lucky the primate showed sympathy after admitting that I’d been trying to save my career.

“To answer your question about why I want to rescue an aggressive obor, I want to save the ones everyone else has written off as a lost cause. They don’t deserve to be put to death for being firecrackers,” Indrek sighed. “I could see something more in them than the Krev do. Your people are shitty judges of character, y’know. I’d like to pick out one little guy, where they say, ‘Not that one,’ and I’d like to do it as soon as possible.”

I drew a shaky breath. “If you’re serious and that’s what you want, then I respect your goals. I could take you to a shelter on Avor tomorrow, and the exchange program would cover it. You’ll need someone to tell you a little about obors.”

“And you’ll need me to tell you what you better put down in your damn tribune. If you want to do real journalism, maybe we could work our way up to a full video interview.”

“You mean it?! I thought you’d…”

Indrek’s lips curved up, closed this time. “You weren’t wrong that it’d help me to make a statement. There’s no reason this can’t be a chance to reinvent yourself.”

“I don’t know what to…thank you! Are you going to be upset if I say I’m excited to see you in person?”

“As long as it’s not so you can try to pet my beard, no.” Darn it, he’s onto me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Flevi.”

The human disconnected from the call, and I sat back with a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest. I was going to see one of the adorable, furless apes in the flesh! Best of all, Indrek hadn’t seemed like he hated me, or viewed me as the enemy, after I bared my heart to him. Despite the rocky start to our exchange pairing, I was hopeful that this might work out as a true friendship going forward.

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A/N - Part 2! Flevi has to supply proof that she contacted a human, to try to save her career, so she attempts to get Indrek to talk to her once more. However, her diplomacy is foiled after she questions why he’d wanted to rescue an obor that’s too violent to be adopted. Our narrator admits that she hates herself for writing rage bait, and explains the hardships she faced growing up that made her leave any scruples of “real journalism” behind. Indrek, in turn, shows some sympathy toward her, explains why she’s offended him, and agrees to visit Avor to pick out an obor and still help with her article.

Does this change your opinion of Flevi, learning why she got into this line of work? How do you think Indrek will handle himself on Avor, since he still resents the Krev? Will it, in fact, be possible for the two to carve out a friendship going forward?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!