The Nature of Predators 2-10 (Patreon)

Memory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Scientist

Date [standardized human time]: March 17, 2160

The spaceport appeared to be in the middle of several sprawling complexes, many of which were adorned with starkly different vegetation and were manned by guards of unique species. I took a moment to soak in as many of the beings as I could, recognizing that these were Sapient Coalition members; the décor on their embassies must be representative of their homeworld. What Naltor and I were gazing at was a snapshot of hundreds of worlds! Embassy Row was situated in the center of the city, replacing buildings that had stood there before. Further out from the unyielding street, and the surrounding diplomatic structures, was a city—with numerous humans bustling about.

How complex and unique each of them must be, every single one with a story to tell like Dustin! These aliens were just going about their lives, paying little mind to how many offworlders surrounded them. If this many sapient species had set up shop in Lassmin, I’d spend every day touring embassies, and talking with the staff: learning the nuances of their homes and cultures. They wouldn’t be able to get rid of me. With us landing in this diplomatic berth, I might have the opportunity to start making the rounds on Earth. This was my opportunity to discover as much information as possible…and to plan for our official introduction.

This is the first time many in the galaxy will see a Bissem, so it’s important to put a friendly flipper forward. I can see cameras waiting outside the docking port, though they’ve been kept back a ways.

“Naltor? Friendly talk only. I’ll handle this.” I scampered toward the exit as soon as the clamps fastened to the ship’s underside, and tried to calm my nerves. What if I said the wrong thing, compared to how Dustin had played the Bissem crowds like a flipperpad? The doors swung open, with Nulia aiding my escape, and I found myself blurting out the first thing on my mind. “Hi, humans. Your planet is…lovely! We’re delighted to be here, and to see everything you have to offer. We can learn so much from you, with your commitment to such a beautiful cause. It’s so nice to meet you, and…I can’t wait for the opportunity to meet every species!”

Naltor trudged out after me, looking uneasy at the crowd of aliens behind the barricades. “Um…how do you do? How many people are watching this?”

“Across all platforms and all planets? Twenty billion,” a human reporter answered.

“By Hirs, that is way too many eyes on us. I’m not sure we’re, um, prepared to make a statement.”

I raised my beak, feigning confidence. “It seems we have twenty billion friends out there already. That warms my heart…to know despite all of the aliens you’ve discovered, you’ll show the same interest in us that I feel about you. I’ve heard first contact is new to the Sapient Coalition, and obviously, this is my first skid across the ice too. We’re similar in a lot of ways, but I’m elated to figure out where we differ as well. Whatever happens, I promise that Bissems will work toward a place for ourselves in the galaxy.”

Haliska trotted out with twitching whiskers. “The Bissems will prepare their full statement for the official SC meeting, but we knew you wanted to film this moment. It’s obviously massive news for them, so we ask for some space and courtesy as they’re introduced to a vast many things!”

“Yes, it’s been quite the whirlwind, I imagine,” Dustin chuckled. “There’s plenty of people on Earth who know exactly how they feel. At the least, I hope we can be more welcoming and charitable than the Federation.”

“From what I know, that sounds like a low bar to clear,” Naltor grumbled.

“Ahem. I quite agree, but perhaps let’s not discuss this further here? Come along. We have to get scanned before the tour…it was part of our agreement.”

Scanned?

I spread my flippers out like a proper wingspan, trying to signal my positive intentions to the cameras. Several of the humans’ eyes widened in a strange, patronizing way, which I couldn’t interpret through my minimal knowledge of their body language. To dub it as “patronizing” could be applying my own filter to them, given how we misinterpreted their teeth baring as a threat display. Perhaps my nonverbal gesture meant something else to them? It might not have been wise to use a Bissem cue for friendliness in “open flippers.” I rubbed a flipper against my beak, feeling a bit mollified at my lack of judgment. Hopefully, that lapse wouldn’t come back to haunt me.

“What do you mean by scanned?” Naltor hissed. “Like a medical scan? I thought you said you couldn’t pass contagions to us!”

Dustin raised a placating hand. “We can’t. I don’t know how to say this, but in essence, we’re getting our brains scanned. From that data, our people can document how first contact went—without us having to film or write down any mission logs.”

“Back the fuck up. You can read minds?!”

“We can interpret the brain’s encoding of memories, Naltor. To know what you’re thinking right now, or to have any untoward influences on those thoughts, is another matter altogether. Artificial intelligence has come a long way from being able to pick out single images from our mind’s eye, but it’s a field of study we’ve been pursuing for over a century.”

“You can figure out what I’m thinking now, as soon as it’s in the past, by looking into my brain. Why would you give yourself the ability to do that?”

“Naltor, I don’t think you have a right to judge them. As unnerving as the prospect is, they have…sophisticated technology,” I commented, though I was apprehensive about my every thought being easily accessible. “It sounds like they’re doing it for historical documentation purposes.”

“That means there is zero privacy, to the very core of your consciousness. There must be things people don’t want the world to know. What right does anyone have to judge you for feelings you have no control over, and to expose your innermost thoughts? Why does nobody have moral qualms about this?”

Nulia waggled a claw. “Of course we do. The technology raised many ethical controversies and spawned a multitude of laws. However, there were many other concerns that made it worth pursuing. All brain scans of living individuals are completely voluntary, and even postmortem, we’ve put rights in place.”

“It’s logical to ask, ‘Just because we can, does that mean we should?’” Dustin turned to face Naltor, with his lips curving downward into a grimace. “You asked why, General, so let me rattle off a few reasons. You know how the Federation wiped anything predatory from a species’ history?”

“In something you might sympathize with, more than anyone, that included our natural drive to be in the water,” Haliska whispered. “They let our homeworld die because we liked to swim. Even if you weren’t carnivores, they would’ve hated you for that.”

“No more. I don’t want them to feel like there’s anything wrong with them, Hallie. The Federation were sick bastards. My point is that a lot of authentic history was lost, because some alien hotshots decided which parts of a species’ culture they could keep. Project Chronicle was what really poured research into these transcripts, because they were trying to piece together missing info. With anyone we have brain data on, we can cobble back information from the past: a biological, first-person source. Just as we are for your first contact.”

“Just slow down for a minute, please. I can’t hear myself think.” I felt my eyes water, as I tried to process everything I’d just heard; that AI could recreate entire lives from a brain scan, and that the Thafki had been left to die for swimming. How exactly was that predatory at all? “There’s so much I don’t understand about your past.”

“And does understanding history really make it worth violating people’s minds?” Naltor squawked. “Is that single reason good enough for such a personal procedure?”

Nulia chuckled. “If you want to know for certain we harbor no ill will, or evil master plans, Naltor…you’re welcome to read our transcripts. Though I imagine Dustin’s has a few intrusive thoughts about how adorable you are.”

“Don’t call me out like that! I would never say it aloud; it’s especially bad for me, since I’m obsessed with all kinds of animals,” the human grumbled. “Scans will be mandatory for us to undergo on a regular basis, due to our importance to the program. If you’d like to contribute, you’re welcome to, but nobody will force you. Should you receive a transcript, you’ll have full say over what to exclude.”

“With respect, I don’t feel comfortable with the entire world knowing my thoughts. Seeing through my eyes,” I answered.

“Of course. I’m only offering it, if you ever want to document your experiences for posterity. Before Naltor demands more reasons for its existence, I promise, there are some major gains to be had from this. Imagine if you get into an accident, and you lose your memories…or you have a memory-loss disease. These transcripts are a backup. They’re a tool into better understanding consciousness, and the brain; treating any dysfunction.”

“Remember Slanek, Doctor Tassi? The Federation captured him and tampered with his short-term memory. But there was an old transcript of him, made from a brain scan their scientists did to help destroy his mind,” Nulia commented. “Tech like this could’ve…restored a version from years ago, if the brain functionality was still there. Marcel—my adoptive father—mentioned trying that, before he went off the grid. It’d be top-secret if they did, I guess. I at least…hope that’s where they vanished to.”

Haliska placed her tail on Nulia’s wrist. “It’s a nice thought. I like the idea that, if I died today, there’d be something left of me. Maybe even a way to bring me back, eventually. This can’t be the end; I can’t just be gone forever, when there’s so many things I wished I did.”

“Are you seriously saying this could be used to bring people back from the dead?!” Naltor exclaimed.

“It can’t right now, but maybe one day, soon. We are our thoughts, like you said. I know if I could have one more moment with my loved ones, in any capacity, I would. My parents both drowned decades ago, trying to swim as far off-shore as they could: free from the Federation at last. They didn’t bank on how grueling it’d be to come back, and they didn’t have proper swim training. I like to think they died happy, being able to follow their hearts. I wish I could tell them about the things I’ve done. Just…talk.”

“We all have reasons we’re invested in preserving consciousness, for ourselves and others. This research could bring great advances for our societies,” Dustin finished, noticing that the Thafki was growing teary-eyed. “It’s a way to grasp things we could never experience for ourselves. What it feels like for a Duerten to fly, something I suspect Bissems would be interested in. What it’s like to be braindead, in a coma, or to die—nobody lives to tell that last one. What it’s like to experience schizophrenia, or the actual manifestations of dangerous thinking. Endless uses. Endless answers.”

The Selmer general looked stricken. “I’m still discomforted by the idea, but I must confess that some of those uses sound interesting to me. What a valuable interrogation asset it must be, as well.”

“And you just gave a reason why the Geneva Conventions—our warfare laws—probably need an update. Let us have our scans done, and we’ll move onto a more laid-back tour?”

Our posse had arrived in a secluded room, which had a metal basket with a few wires on the table: an unassuming device, for the insight its cursory overview would uncover. I watched with curious eyes, as each member of the first contact team placed it atop their craniums for a few seconds. Given how little hesitation there was, I imagined they’d done it before; having their thoughts dissected was normal to them. Would that ever be a decision that I would choose? Were my memories valuable enough to sacrifice my privacy, so that Bissems could see how our first steps into the stars played out? That was without even addressing my mixed emotions on reinstating my consciousness, beyond death or during life.

Haliska placed a paw on my shoulder. “That was it. Thanks for your patience, and for your tolerance of our…different standards of culture. How would you feel about a stroll down Embassy Row? I’m afraid the humans have sidewalks, not sideswims.”

“I figured as much. Whether humans love the ocean or not, they don’t seem born to swim.”

“You’d be surprised. We even have it as a sport; maybe we should’ve sent a swimmer, and not a xenobiologist, along for the landing party!” Dustin exclaimed. “C’mon. I know Tassi wants a peek at every species out there, before we show you to your accommodations.”

The human pranced out of the spaceport, teeth bared in jovial fashion. I turned my gaze upward, following him with my own childlike enthusiasm; I could feel the warm rays of an alien sun slapping the tan feathers on my face. As a Vritala, able to endure the most tropical weather, I appreciated that Vienna had a more temperate feel. The air had been crisp and breathable since we landed here, more like the known climate of Tseia Nomads’ homeland, Alsh. I couldn’t help myself, comparing every sensation to the world that I knew. What was there to measure my experiences by, except Ivrana? Earth was beautiful, but Ivrana was the very benchmark that influenced my judgments.

Nulia fell in beside me, as Naltor’s eyes darted around at each embassy. “The nearest embassies to the spaceport are the Key Species: starting with Earth’s original three allies, the Venlil, the Zurulians, and the Yotul. They spread out from there based on the order they opened diplomatic relations—so somewhat, you can argue it’s by importance. Some annexes you see are from outside the SC, whether it be from the Shield or from neutral parties.”

“There’s over 150 embassies here, so while I’m happy to walk you by all of them, it would be…a lot. We can just walk you through the most essential SC members and get your feet wet,” Dustin said. “How about we start with the Venlil? I lived with a Venlil family, on their world, for years, so it’s an easy one.”

“Are they going to oppose our entry?” Naltor blurted. “Are they a diplomatic threat?”

“Um, the Venlil shouldn’t be an issue. What you should know about them is that they're our neighbors. A highly emotional species, which sometimes correlates to aggression. The Federation didn’t like that, and crippled them. Yeah, Tassi, every time you hear the Federation in the past tense, just assume it’ll be something horrible. You’ll get used to it.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. It’s difficult to imagine why they would do that to innocent people. To an entire species.”

“Because they could,” Naltor sighed. “Why does any fiend do anything?”

“I can’t pretend to speak for the Federation, beyond them blaming a prion disease outbreak. The truth is, we’ll never know if it was more complicated than that.” Dustin breathed out a flustered sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “My point is that, if the Venlil were willing to accept us, when nobody believed we were anything more than heartless predators, they’re actually a safe bet for being allies. They saved our species back then, they have significant sway with the SC, and they’ve been linked to us for a long time. Just don’t find a way to piss them off, or you might regret it.”

“Noted,” I replied.

Creatures with bushy, curly fur watched from behind the Venlil embassy’s gates, plodding forward to observe us with interest. Some of the older ones had crooked legs, compared to much hardier-looking, young specimens; their coloration was primarily shades of gray, with a few exceptions. I was going to part my flippers in the same gesture from earlier, but stopped after recalling the humans’ strange reaction. One of the aliens seemed to notice me, watching them all awkward and tensed up, and swayed his tail in a greeting. At a loss for what to do, I mirrored the motion with a flipper.

“On the other side of the street, the Zurulians! If—Protector forbid—anything happens to you, they’ll be the ones who patch you up. Famous for their compassion, and the medical innovations that sprang from their kindness,” Nulia explained. “Shortly after we discovered Bissems, their Galactic Institute of Medicine requested all the anatomical data and medical literature we could find on you. They wouldn’t want any lives at risk that could’ve been saved if they studied you in advance.”

Naltor’s eyes were narrowed with skepticism. “Those tiny quadrupeds? They’d be the ones stitching me up?”

“You’d be surprised how crafty they are, and their robotic aides fill in where they lack strength. You’d be in good paws,” Haliska replied.

Dustin hesitated at the embassy ahead, presumably the third from their Key Species list: the Yotul. “Right. Let’s not make any ruckus as we pass here. If you want a diplomatic threat, the Technocracy thinks we never should’ve contacted you. They’re mistrustful of new members to begin with, but with you being an ‘uplift’, I imagine they’ll oppose your entry in any way possible.”

“A species that was bullied mercilessly, but had power dumped in their lap during the war,” Nulia finished. “Now they’re a force to be reckoned with, and brimming with paranoia. They also have a habit of spying, so I imagine they can throw around some blackmail to sway votes, if talking doesn’t work.”

The Selmer general raised his flippers in exasperation. “Well, they sound like pleasant fellows. Tassi, you want to march up to the gates and say hello?”

“I actually don’t see how it could hurt to try to smooth things over. Just because these Yotul have decided to be our enemies, doesn’t mean we have to give it back,” I commented.

“They’re not your enemies. They think they’re doing you a favor,” Dustin sighed. “I don’t imagine they want to exchange pleasantries, Tassi, so I advise keeping your head down. No need to risk a vitriolic bout making the rounds on the web.”

I cast a brief glance at the building, which had green sand rooting down tropical-looking trees at the gates. Further back, there were small, tan animals bounding around in the grass, which seemed to have been ferried in from a different climate altogether. These four-legged beasts had binocular eyes, something which was possessed by Terrans alone, so that told me they were not the Yotul. The fact that the Technocracy chose to have these animals present at the embassy must hold some meaning, though. The actual sapients were toting menacing guns, which immediately caused Naltor to stiffen; several of the digitigrade bipeds scowled at us, folding their reddish ears back.

So much for sneaking past without them noticing us. Dustin didn’t seem to think they’d take a shot at us, but I don’t see how posturing like they might is “doing us a favor.” Maybe I should’ve gotten that brain scan, just in case I need to be brought back from the dead.

“I’m sorry if we offended you,” I managed, causing the Yotul’s glowers to deepen. “We’re moving on. We won’t stand in front of your territory. I hope you have a pleasant day, and that you can forgive whatever we’ve done to upset you.”

One Yotul’s eyes shifted slightly, making it clear she was looking at Dustin. “We’re not angry with you, Bissem. Humanity’s stunt will fail, however, and we have the perfect ammunition. I’m regretful you’ll be caught in the crossfire. You never should’ve been.”

“Perfect ammunition?” the human echoed, curious in spite of himself. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, so you haven’t seen what the Tseia are saying about you? I think you should familiarize yourself with it. The Bissems don’t want you there. Stop being a fucking Fed. Because either way, when the Sapient Coalition sees what the Nomads said, they’ll know Bissems are fractured and dangerous. The anti-carnivores will have a field day, as you humans say!”

Naltor trudged forward with reluctance, a hint of worry in his eyes. “What did those shifty fucking Tseia do now? I won’t let them ruin things.”

“The Tseia expressed that they want nothing to do with aliens. Their official position is that xenos can’t be trusted. With how you humans decided to swoop in, and play Ralchi, I’d say they’re right. This is a disunified species that isn’t ready, and doesn’t need your salvation. We’ll show the whole SC that you’re not respecting their wishes. We’ll play the tapes for—”

Nulia grimaced, placing a paw on my back. “Let’s get moving. Now. We need to talk, in private at the hotel, about whatever the Tseia have done.”

“Agreed,” Naltor grumbled.

Cutting the tour short, as the Yotul continued to shout at us and insist that we’d never be admitted to the Coalition, the landing party hurried us away from the Technocracy embassy. I cast a glance over my shoulder, wondering what Dustin had meant by the fact that the former uplifts intended this opposition as a boon. Why were they so opposed to us getting a fair hearing at the Sapient Coalition, and becoming a part of the galaxy: a dream that sounded wonderful to me? Didn’t these Yotul know it’d be difficult enough for us, because of those anti-carnivores? With my joyful mood at visiting Earth erased, I walked toward our lodgings with defeated steps.

There was so much about various aliens, and their past, that left me disappointed to my very core. I just hoped that Bissems hadn’t generated a reason for me to be domestically disillusioned as well, with our own reactionary squabbles and in-fighting.

A/N - Chapter 10! Tassi and Naltor are captured landing at the spaceport on camera, as our favorite scientist proclaims her goodwill; they also witness the first contact team undergoing memory transcripts, as a sort of mission report, and have that groundbreaking technology...with its implications...explained. Our Bissem narrator doesn't want one just yet, but as we know by reading this, she does eventually get a scan.  What do you think of this technology's first appearance, at least that's not in the future? Which side of the ethical debate are you on?

The trip proceeds to Embassy Row, introducing the Key Species, but it derailed by Yotul hostility. What do you think of the Yotul's fierce opposition to the Bissem uplift, and their intentions? Will it affect Tassi's chances of making a good impression with the SC? What do you think inspired the Tseia to not welcome the alien visitors?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! Chapter 11 will release on Sunday, and it's a must-read, discussion starter that really flips the script and changes the entire tone; I hope it'll really fuel some shock, excitement, and discussion with the implications that are about to come to light. For those of you that haven't meshed with the Krev openers, laying a foundation, I think this'll be the chapter that it just clicks, so please do give it a look!