The Nature of Predators - Veiq's Story (One-Shot #14) (Patreon)

Farsul Abductee - The following is a follow-up to the Farsul Abductee miniseries: spoilers ahead. To the enthusiastic fans of Veiq, as a complex character, this one is dedicated to you!

Memory transcription subject: Veiq, Farsul Archivist

Date [standardized human time]: March 23, 2137

When archivists volunteered for assignment to the human chamber, we received training on how to handle their species. Our knowledge was based on mistakes that were made with past batches, with the current guidance designed to keep us safe. I’d been terrified all the same, when Danny Palmer first woke up and began talking; he was a predator, after all! The protocol stated not to keep the Terrans locked inside their cells, unless they showed active signs of violence. We’d wanted to earn their trust…we could save them! I replayed that first day, in years when I was much younger than today, often—it’d been on my mind, when the human I loved showed up and screamed that he hated me.

Years. I’d spent years missing Danny more than I could describe. Having him reappear in my life, sane and cognizant, like I’d fantasized about since sticking him in that cryopod: it was a dream come true. The analytically-minded human was preserved, just as he’d been over a decade ago; while my whiskers were starting to become gray, my passion for him hadn’t waned a bit. If there was any way I could’ve helped him, I would’ve. What I did had saved Agent Palmer, and it was the only method I thought of at the time to rescue him. The risk to my life hadn’t even factored into the equation.

I knew from the start that others who documented “species 243-G” didn’t come out the same. I’d understood that The Hunger would catch up to my subject just the same, unless we could find a cure. Watching Danny slowly wither and lose his mind had been unbearable; my heart ached so badly every day, as I wished I could reverse the course of his degradation. The human didn’t remember basic things, and he was irrational through suffocating pain. If I could’ve taken his agony and transferred it onto myself, there wouldn’t have been a moment’s hesitation.

Danny’s rejection stung worse than anything he had said in the throes of The Hunger. It was how he truly felt about me: that I was a monster he wanted nothing to do with. When I learned that there was a rudimentary way to keep herbivore humans alive, with a single vitamin, part of me agreed with his assessment. That fact all but made me lose the will to live. Those Terrans, like carefree, weed-aficionado Greg Palmer, had died for nothing. It was a preventable tragedy that our actions ushered in; seeing the back of Danny’s tawny scalp disappearing for good, I felt a chasm in my chest. When the UN soldiers stormed the Archives, I thought they’d understand we were trying to help save their kind.

I’d hoped that Danny would eventually understand that I did everything I could—that he didn’t mean what he said, about wishing that I’d die like Greg. If that was what he wanted, I wished I had a way to oblige; there was no purpose, rotting in a prison cell, day after day. The man I loved called into question the entire purpose of my profession, that arranging of history that enraptured me. He was horrified by what we’d done to hundreds of species, when he realized the full scope of it. Was converting omnivores…wrong? They didn’t die in our care like humans did. What was wrong with assimilating all cultures into our union, when it made their beliefs compatible with peace?

Danny had yet to contact me again to explain. At this point, I believed he never would. There was nothing I wouldn’t do, if it meant the idea of me wouldn’t put such disgust in his binocular pupils. It was as if any mutual affection had flamed out in an instant, on his end.

Danny is alive, Veiq. That’s what matters…I wish I could know anything about what he's doing. Adjusting to over 150 years worth of new technology is a tall order.

When I was ushered into the visitor’s room today, where the glass pane had once so cruelly separated me from the love of my life, I was hopeful that Danny had returned at long last. Energy pulsed through my veins for the first time in weeks, though it fizzled out when I saw an unfamiliar human in a chair. There was a shrewd look in her glittering eyes, and she had a dust-colored bowl cut—I knew all about human mane hygiene from hair stylist Juliana. I still remembered the day they put her down: a fate that would’ve been Danny’s, had I not whisked him away. The apprehension I felt, when I lied to my supervisors, wasn’t for the fact that I’d be killed if they found out; it was that the FBI agent would be ripped out of his cryopod, and sentenced to execution.

Maybe this primate had shown up to sentence me to execution. I wouldn’t argue, since it was Danny’s wish. If my death would make him happy, I’d jump at the chance to be put out of my misery.

“Hi, Veiq,” the human said, with an eerie smile. “My name is General Jones. I’m here to offer you an opportunity.”

I scrunched my ears in confusion. “I don’t understand what you want.”

“The United Nations is launching an initiative called Project Chronicle. We’re utilizing machine learning to craft entirely new curriculums, built from your documentation of authentic, unfiltered history. However, the AI requires some user input to extrapolate what’s important, and to review its findings. The programs can come to understand what we’re looking for, with some slight guidance.”

“Why are you using computers at all? It sounds like you have to tell it what you’re looking for anyway. We compiled and organized it all.”

“You had centuries, Veiq. There would be too many challenges in sifting through millions of hours of footage, for hundreds of species. The manpower required is astronomical, and humanity doesn’t have enough historians to devote to the cause; I’m afraid the ongoing fight for our existence takes precedence over post-war restoration.”

“We never wanted humanity to go extinct. I was devastated when the Farsul joined the extermination fleet. In the Archives, we never gave up on the Terrans we had.”

“I’m not here to litigate the Battle of Earth. I’m here to explain Project Chronicle all the way through. Humanity will be involved with rectifying each race’s beliefs as much as we can. We brought in cryopod aliens to document the truth, and we’ll be approaching other Archives staffers. With whatever capacity we can generate, we intend to devote the bulk of our efforts to our official SC allies. We’ll be bringing in their own specialists to review and notate the material as well. We’re not just looking to be the latest curators of their history.”

I shriveled away from that accusation. “It wasn’t like that. All of the species were happy and prosperous, freed from the worst attributes of their species. What is it you even want with me?”

“Suffice to say, the best people to help with unscrambling Farsul inventions are the ones who’ve worked on it for years. You’re the perfect candidate, as someone with sympathy for humans, and a genuine passion for history. You manned the front desk, so you should have a cursory knowledge of many species. Before you tell me you’re not interested…I can give you the one thing you want. Danny.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You brought him here? You have to know, I loved Danny—I risked my life to put him back in that cryopod. Help me find a way to make him not…hate me, to look at me with anything other than contempt, and I’ll do whatever you want!”

“You have to understand that you lied to him about why he was there, for years,” General Jones replied. “You did nothing to save Greg either.”

“I tried to tell Danny about my reservations—that sometimes, I felt like we were killing humans. Greg was already contained in solitary, because of his aggression symptoms. How was I supposed to break him out?”

“Would you say that, if it’s a person you loved, you should’ve told Danny the full truth? That your species captured him, that it was over a hundred years later, and that you infected him with a disease in your attempts to ‘cure’ his entire race of eating meat. That those Kolshians were your partners in crime? That this was the only way you saw him as a true sapient, capable of resisting bloodlust? You never told him anything of substance. There’s nothing I can or will do to make him want to forgive you.”

I thought I was saving him, and all of humanity, every step of the way. I didn’t want him to hate me…or blame me: the guilt I felt when he said it wasn’t my fault. He deserved the truth…but analytical mind or not, he’s a predator, who might’ve lashed out and gotten himself killed!

Jones’ accusation of me, thinking Danny wasn’t a true sapient, stung particularly. As long as he was subsisting on plants and in his right mind, of course I did; I loved the person beneath all of the predatory issues. It was easy to predict what he would do, and his whole life’s story was something I knew like the back of my paw. To think I’d been afraid of the binocular eyes that now mesmerized me, when he first confronted me in the cafeteria. I might not have been comfortable around Terrans for awhile, but I’d been diligent in documenting human culture. I believed that they had empathy and complexity, even without external reshaping.

“I was just doing what he asked of me, by getting to know him. Humans frightened me, at first. I only came to care on the level of a personal connection later. I told your soldiers everything because deep down, I wanted you to help the Terrans in the cryopods!” I shouted, eyes watering with emotion.

General Jones pursed her lips. “I know that.”

“You said you could give me Danny, then told me that you won’t even try to get him to forgive me! You got my hopes up when I have none. Without him, I have no reason to help your silly project, reverting everyone to a state of depravity. History, to me, is supposed to be about protecting people from their past.”

“No. History is just the story we tell ourselves about the past…to suit the narrative of whoever is in charge. A series of convenient lies. We’d like to inject a bit of…inconvenience, in the form of honesty. It teaches nothing to keep the galaxy in ignorance. As for Danny, take a look at this. Quickly, please: you can linger on specific moments on your own time.”

The primate passed a holopad, which had its functions restricted to a single media gallery, through a slit in the glass pane. I accepted the device, to find a collection of six files uploaded to its archives. The image staring at me was of Danny, seated within an urban apartment, flashing his teeth at the camera. I clung to the tablet as if it were my source of life, scrutinizing every minute detail of his expression. His face looked much healthier, after care in the hospital and a renewed willpower to eat. The intelligence was back in his gaze, along with the attention to grooming that’d gone by the wayside.

There was a computer in the backdrop, with a chatting program open on the screen. A physical, 2D picture of a Paltan, with dingy yellow fur and massive eyes, sat next to his desktop; I found that an odd choice, especially since I would expect Danny to want nothing to do with aliens. The human was holding his thumb up beside the frame, which I believed was an expression of approval or positivity in his part of Earth. After seeing his furious mask of rage, when he berated me in this prison, the snarl of genuine happiness made his features glow. My cured Terran looked so happy that it made my heart twist into knots.

Look how delighted Danny is just to be home, even in this distant future. How could we have taken him away from Earth? This must be all he wanted for years, but we told him he could never go back.

I swiped to the next item, which was a clip of Danny speaking to a crowd of young humans—possibly at a university? He stood behind a podium, talking about what it was like to find his world under such drastic changes. The intelligence analyst pivoted to an explanation of why he joined the exchange program, to rid himself of hate and bitterness—I caused him to feel that way.  That realization made me want to wilt like an unwatered flower; the last thing I’d ever wanted was to hurt Danny. The next part of his speech explained the picture on his desktop, with measured words that gripped me.

“When I joined the Paltan exchange program, I didn’t know what to expect—but I was hoping to replace my festering memories with something positive. And guess what? My partner, Tlev, was kidnapped by the Farsul too. I didn’t get someone who thought I was a monster; I met a kindred soul with the same struggles as me. I understand that many people are struggling here: with a sudden influx of new info, with losing everyone you love, and with the terrible things done to us,” Danny narrated.

I wept into my paws, sorrow beating me into submission. “I’m sorry, Danny. I’m so sorry.”

“All I can say is that, we make a choice to get back up and not wallow…in hate, in self-pity. I don’t want to be that kind of person. I want to be who I was, before they tried to change me; if we let them change us, they win! That’s what they wanted, and it’s why I was kidnapped. Tlev taught me that their boot heel has been on the necks of all these aliens, turning them into something unrecognizable. They’ve been taught to hate, and I think we can’t let ourselves go down that path by choice!”

That appeared to be the tail end of Danny’s speech, since the listeners jumped up to offer rousing applause. The video ended much too soon, and I felt General Jones’ piercing eyes picking my emotions apart. I knew the human visitor had told me not to delay, but I hadn’t been able to help myself. The moment I saw Danny’s face, I was like a drug addict going through withdrawal, with my physiology needing the new dose sitting before me. I forced myself to preview the next few items in quicker fashion, as much as I’d like to replay every one.

There was an interview on a podcast, where Danny poured his heart out about how he felt, after seeing a clip of his mother begging for her children’s return. I wished there was some way I could comfort him, through the unimaginable realization that everyone he ever knew was long dead, except for me. I moved onto a clip of Danny, walking through a history museum, commenting on a disastrous mission called Apollo 13. He spoke about the early days of the space program, and how it felt when the first human touched down on the moon—it’d captivated the entire planet. For a culture that supposedly needed fixing, the “one step” quote was quite collectivist.

Behind-the-scenes footage from the set of a television show, where Danny appeared to be consulting on past era staging, caught my eye. I could listen to him talk about his time period for hours; it was what I’d done back at the Archives, recording everything and anything he knew. His experience detailing human culture must’ve prepared him for such lively explanations. His mind and his memory had returned. I could see him laughing with one of the producers, as the two shared a joke about an absurd prop.

“Veiq, are you—” General Jones began.

A growl rumbled in my throat. “There’s one more, and I’m going to look at it. I need this.”

Not allowing the human to object, I switched over to the final video in the multimedia assortment. There was no sign of Danny in the clip, which left me puzzled; it appeared to be a government press briefing from the United Nations, announcing the first wave of human volunteers for an experimental cure reversal. A horrified gasp came from my throat, as I heard the name “Danny Palmer” read out second-to-last. Not only was it dangerous and unproven…but it meant my love would go right back to being a flesh-eating predator. That was what he wanted, even after years away from it.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll always be a predator, and I just have to accept that. Danny’s happy, and he’s himself.

“Seeing that he’s doing well…it’s a weight from my shoulders. I’d do anything to be a part of his life,” I breathed.

General Jones’ smile deepened. “There’s lots more where that comes from. Full tapes, some quite long, of his speeches and endeavors. His chats with journalists, CCTV footage, his initial screening and check-ins for the exchange program. It’s beyond redeeming yourself. You work for Project Chronicle and I can ensure you have a continuous supply of updates about Danny. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

“How do I agree? I’ll do everything you ask: above and beyond! I’m a great student of history, and I’ve been to enough Founder’s Day exhibitions to know a lot about many species. Before they let us join the human team, we usually start in the Letian chamber. You know, because they glide silently at people, and tend to look at them with both eyes. If we can’t handle them, we can’t sell our act to a human. My greatest knowledge will be about the Letians.”

“The species who you spread the rumors that they all have predator disease?”

“The Letians, a lot like humans if you got uplifted, had too many unnerving attributes that were like predators. It’s probably why you’re allies; with your…eyes, there would’ve been a similar story about you. It helped in the Letians’ case that they’re crepuscular—creatures of dusk and dawn—as that’s an authentic anti-predator adaptation. Most predators are at their peak activity, foraging at night or at midday, with the full sun to see by. Um, which one are you?”

Jones blinked in confusion. “I didn’t anticipate the burst of enthusiasm. We’re all of the above. It’s come to my attention that we sleep the least of any primate—do with that what you will.”

“That might’ve been the perfect cover for humans. You evolved to sleep less than all of your ancestors, due to the constant threat of predation. Anyway, I promise, I’ll do everything I can on this assignment. I can motivate myself! Any update to know Danny is okay, after he reverses the cure, would be enough. I just want to see he’s safe and sound.”

“If it’s any assurance, our simulations give no cause for concern. Welcome to Project Chronicle, Veiq.”

“Thanks! Just say the word, and I’ll get started. If you want me on the Letian team, I can start with the origins of the elevation-based caste system, tracing back to a prehistoric empire. It’s quite a mountainous world, so travel wasn’t possible by straight-through passages. The caste system still spread across the planet, since it was expensive to build structures higher up. You have semi-vertical cities for quick access—”

“I get it. I’ll advise the project lead to put you on the Letian curriculum, but you need to meet your fellow historians first. I’m going to show you out of your cell, and to a new underground facility. You’ll still be a prisoner, but it’ll be a bit nicer than this POW hole.”

My tail wagged with delight as a human guard showed me out through the metal door; I was being transported to an exciting form of captivity. The one downside was that Danny wouldn’t know where to find me, if he ever wanted to visit, but maybe the UN would tell him what I was doing. Any time he wished to find me, they could direct him if he asked, just like they had when I was in prison. This was another way to put my passion to use, piecing together a narrative from the historical data. Even when a species’ past was ridden with uncivilized acts of aggression, I loved learning about it all.

By helping the United Nations with their mission to undo my life’s work, I could have a purpose again. Maybe one day, Danny would decide I wasn’t a monster, but I was just delighted to have a second chance to observe his hopes and actions.

A/N - Veiq follow-up! Veiq has been miserable in prison, ever since Danny rebuffed her, until a certain General Jones comes knocking with the promise of the one thing she wants; the slightest hint of being involved in Danny's life again.  Jones is recruiting Veiq to work on Project Chronicle, a program to create curricula that align with each species' authentic history: undoing the Farsul's work. Our archivist explains a bit about how she got involved with humans in the Archives, and we see how she thinks about her work. She's not thrilled that Danny has decided to return to eating meat, but she's happy to see him in good spirits and healthy.

Does the glimpse at Veiq's perspective affect your opinion on her character? What do you think of Project Chronicle; is recruiting archivists a good move from Jones? What do you think of what Danny has done with his life, from the brief snapshots we got of that?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! Our next bonus post is none other than a sequel to the most popular miniseries...Venlil Foster Program...perhaps there's some surprises for returning characters, and we'll pick up on Jimek's story as touched on in Human Exterminators 2!