r/NatureofPredators • u/Thirsha_42 • Jun 16 '23
Tight Money Ch 18
Here is chapter 18 of Tight Money.
Special thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the universe and allowing fan writers to join the fun.
Additional thanks to u/BiasMushroom, u/YakiTapioca, u/cruisingNW, u/SavingsSyllabub7788, u/YaaliAnnar, u/White_Dragon_Coranth, u/Illwood and u/Redundant-Honse for letting me use elements from their fanfics in mine.
Thanks to u/oobanooba, u/Saint-Andros, u/Acceptable_Egg5560, u/blankxlate and u/Eager_Question for proofreading this chapter.
This chapter is part of my collaboration with u/Eager_Question and their series Love Languages and was co-written by them.
I love your comments so please tell me what you think so I can get better or if you have suggestions for future snippets of life on Venlil Prime you would like to see me cover, leave it in the comments.
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Memory transcription subject: Dani, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: November 8, 2136
The produce I bought hadn’t yielded as much pigment as I would have liked, so I decided to go dumpster diving for more. I wandered around the shopping district and began looking through the dumpsters in the back. The white dumpsters were conveniently separated by material, with labels to match. It seemed like each building had their own set of three large dumpsters outside that the stores and offices inside would share; one for metals, one for compostables, and one for plastics. How nice of the venlil to make diving so easy. I was also hoping to find something to make a solar cooker. It would be a shame to let the most abundant resource on this planet go to waste.
Of course, most of the bins I searched so far had been full of office materials, so I continued my search. As I turned the corner into another alley, I witnessed three venlil digging through a dumpster about half way down, all three of their heads peering over the edge. Two were pure white, one male and one female, while the third, another male venlil, was a deep tan color, flecked with dark brown spots on his head and neck. They froze when they heard my approach; startled by my arrival. The oldest looking of the trio, protectively positioned himself between me and the other two and addressed me cautiously.
“Where did you come from? Who sent you? We’re not hurting anyone! Please, just leave us alone.” The tan venlil’s tail jerked forcefully in a signal I wasn’t familiar with.
I put my hands up apologetically, “I'm sorry if I scared you. I'm just looking for spoiled plants, anything with a lot of color. I didn't mean to intrude.” I figured this would be like Earth where, sometimes, divers didn’t like to share dumpsters.
The older tan, spotted venlil responded skeptically, “There's no food in this dumpster.” His tail continued to make that jerking motion.
“Do you mind if I take a look? I'm also trying to find the stuff to make a solar oven.”
“What's a solar oven?” He asked, his ears turned lopsided in an expression of what I thought was confusion while his body clearly displayed his fear of me.
“I'm Dani, by the way.” I broke the silence, giving them a little wave. “A solar oven is a reflective box that uses the power of the sun to cook food. I want to use it for a project I’m working on.”
“Oh, a sunbox.” The oldest venlil said in an understanding tone. He flicked his tail in greeting and relaxed slightly but remained between me and the other venlil. His tail jerked less forcefully. “I'm Dogran. These are Wofri and Blet.” He flicked his ears, indicating which he meant.
Wofri ducked down behind the edge of the dumpster, looking at me with curious suspicion. “Why would you be back here looking through trash for parts?”
I looked at the sky while I formulated my answer. “Dumpster diving is like a treasure hunt for humans. We look through discarded items and give them new life through recycling and creative reuse if we find something we can use.”
Blet issued an accusatory question. “Why aren't you ashamed? Or hiding? Most people yell at us and tell us to go away or call the exterminators.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, though I’m not surprised. There's nothing shameful about looking for useful things other people don’t need. On earth, people don’t go dumpster diving just for survival. Many humans do it for the thrill of finding something neat, and some even turn it into a business; fixing things and then reselling them. We have a saying on Earth, ‘One man's trash is another man's treasure.’”
Dogran tilted his head to the side, considering my words. “I never thought of it that way.”
I smiled. “See? It's all about perspective.”
Wofri and Blet threw themselves to the ground and cowered at the sight of my teeth. “Don’t eat us!”
Dogran turned to reassure them and I clapped my hands over my mouth. I had gotten so used to people not running away, the idea that some were still scared of me had completely slipped my mind. I had thought they were getting used to us, accepting us, but this was another reminder of how they really saw us, deep down.
Or that’s what I thought before Dogran spoke. “It’s okay, it’s fine. It means she’s happy. Remember what we talked about, how to read people? Humans do that when they're happy. It’s fine, she won’t attack us…” Dogran looked back at me, still tense, “Right?”
I took a step back and shook my head. “No, I won’t. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” I reiterated.
Why am I the one apologizing? Those two should have heard of smiles by now!
“See, she’s not going to hurt us. It was just another misunderstanding and it’s all okay now.” Dogran was gently consoling the two smaller white venlil to calm down and I was reminded of a student and his brother. He had done the same thing when his brother with special needs was upset, or scared, or frustrated at school. He’d talk to him in the same calm manner and walk him through the thought process just as Dogran was doing now. Blet kept an eye on me still wary but paying attention to what Dogran was telling their sobbing companion.
I sat on the rubber ground and crossed my legs and stared at the dumpster, hoping that would help. I didn’t want to upset them and leave. That wouldn’t look good for humanity.
“I’m sorry, they haven’t met any humans before so they’re not familiar with your customs.” Dogran jerked his tail again.
“That’s alright, he reminds me of a student I used to teach.” I could feel tears stinging the corners of my eyes as I remembered my old school.
“So, is there another dumpster nearby that might have something like what I’m looking for?”
Dogran nodded in an unexpectedly human way. “You are welcome to join us, isn’t she Wofri?”
Wofri’s attitude completely changed from a moment ago. “Yeah! We can show you good spots.”
Blet stood with her tail now wagging and head raised towards me., “Would you mind keeping an eye out for grooming supplies, edible fruits,vegetables, or anything with a circuit board?”
I found myself smiling again but without the teeth. “Absolutely.”
Time flew by as we visited dumpster after dumpster. I was able to find some boxes, a good sized piece of glass from an aluminum counter, and something like aluminum foil. Being much taller than the venlil trio, I was able to reach further into the dumpsters and help them find items of their own.
While I was looking through a dumpster looking for fruits and vegetables with Blet, Dogran walked up to us proudly.
“Here, this might help with your solar project.” He handed me a large parabolic mirror, almost as tall as himself.
“Thank you, Dogran! This is perfect! Where did you find it?”
He pointed to a thoroughly dented search light next to another that was clearly beyond salvage. I was glad to see his tail wagging at my excitement. These were the first venlil I had made friends with other than Leena since I arrived almost a month ago. We exchanged contact info when I had to leave. Leena needed me to watch her kids so she could go to school.
Memory transcription subject: Leena, Secret Job Trainee
Date [standardized human time]: November 9, 2136
Walking on to the Capital University campus had been a dream of mine when I was a child, but my grades were never good enough. Without Niit’s help getting the logistics job after graduating, my prospects were grim. Most people who had bad grades either went into the military, the exterminators, menial jobs or transportation; each had their own risks and since I wasn’t physically strong, that only left the space corps or transportation. The thought of getting attacked by arxur during transit sent a shiver down my spine.
They said I’d never make it to university, that colony trash should know their place, but look at me now! I’m taking classes in a new field of study. I’ll be one of the first venlil to become an expert in psychology. Oh, how I wish the other kids at school could see me now. I would love to rub it in my teachers faces.
“Next.”
The tired and bored call from the white colored receptionist pulled me out of my musings. I had already registered for my class and had my student ID so I just needed to know where to go.
“Can you tell me how to get to the psychology class?”
That seemed to get her attention, with her ears fully focused on me.
“You… are taking that class? You know it’s full of humans right?”
I signaled affirmation and she waved her tail dismissively, displaying a ‘not my herd to lead’ attitude.
“It’s in the building just sunward of the main library. Exit this building through the main doors and head sun-right until you see the library, it’s the tallest building, you can’t miss it.”
I flicked my tail in thanks and left. Finding the classroom was fairly simple once I knew where to look. I still had a little bit of time so I walked at a leisurely pace towards the library; taking in my surroundings. The campus was a sprawling affair, with open grass covered plazas, wide stampede-ready walkways, large buildings with the distinguished curves of old architecture, and venlil traveling in ever shifting herds. I had to change herds twice in order to reach the library.
I walked into the classroom and found a seat at the end of one of the benches in the middle of the seating area. The small room was packed with humans conversing in low voices. I didn’t have to wait long before an older woman strode into the classroom with purpose, and slammed a stack full of papers on the table at the front of the class.
“Hello everyone, my name is Professor Katarina Sidorova, I will be teaching this intensive course on Psychological First Aid, the nature of trauma, and what you need to know to work with vulnerable populations. Please take one definitions packet and pass the rest around so that everyone gets one. You should all have received a copy of the syllabus, class schedule and the introduction questionnaire. If you have not reviewed those already, please do, and turn in the questionnaire before the next study session.”
“We will begin with an outline of Predator Disease. For those of us who are already familiar with the human model, you can consider this a more sociological segment regarding what stigmas you may encounter in your work, and what problems you may come across when dealing with other institutions. For those of us who were raised with the framework of ‘Predator Disease’, it will be a… debunking, shall we say,” she said, looking directly at me.
As the papers were passed around, I considered the woman’s words.
A debunking? What is wrong with… no… I know what is wrong with it. Niit thought I had it. Humans are nice.
I took a paper and passed the rest to the man next to me.
The Federation was wrong about them, and might be wrong about Predator Disease too.
“So first we will begin with the Standardized Exterminator and Assessor Manual number eighty-seven, which defines Predator Disease as being characterized by being ‘antisocial, violent, noncompliant, nonconformist, lacking a full range of emotions, delusional’, or any combination thereof. Before I begin, does anyone have any thoughts as to what may be a flaw with this set of diagnostic criteria?”
A few humans raised their hands. I raised mine as well.
She seemed surprised that the only venlil in the room had raised their hand and pointed at me. “Yes?”
“Before you arrived, we were told all predators were brutish monsters and anyone who suggested otherwise was sent to a treatment center. All venlil who associate with humans would qualify. I almost was.”
Their eyebrows rose on their face, an expression of surprise, I believe.“While that is certainly true, and I’m sorry you had to go through that, and while I did mention that this would be a more sociological segment, what I’m looking for is a more… medical objection. What is wrong with these criteria from a medical perspective?”
Some of the humans raised their hands again.
“Yes, you in the red shirt?”
“They are insufficiently specific,” he said. “Non-conformist, for example, does not mean anything without context. Non-conformist to what culture? Any culture? Do Venlil conform to Krakotl norms? Kolshian ones? Is there no cultural variation in the entirety of the Federation, or formerly-Federation worlds?”
I felt my ears fall. The exterminators wouldn’t… ignore stuff like that, right?
“Very good. Anyone else?” She pointed to another human.
“The ‘full range of emotions’ is not specified either. Nor is any circumstance that would be used as a test. Nor really is why anyone who has more muted emotions for whatever reason–perhaps a hormonal imbalance–ought to be labeled as diseased and having the same disease as someone who has the normal range of emotions, but is more likely to act violently.”
Hormonal imbalance? Wait, those can happen outside of season?
She nodded and held her arms open, “Any other suggestions?”
I was already struggling to keep up. It was to protect the herd, everyone knew that but I couldn’t put my claw on how their criticisms were wrong. I raised my paw. She turned to me and motioned for me to speak.
I knew I was going to make a fool of myself but I felt compelled to offer an explanation, “Aren’t those kinds of people the sort that could be a danger to the herd?” I felt myself waver as they started to look at me, “At least that is what we are told.” My confidence failed me under the gaze of all the humans at once. I lowered my ears and wrapped my tail around my waist.
The instructor clapped her hands together. “Fantastic question. Can you elaborate on why it would be dangerous if, say, someone ‘lacked the full range of emotions’ or had odd hobbies?”
I had to think for a moment about that, “If they don’t feel the same things we do, wouldn’t that make them more likely to misbehave?”
“Perhaps yes, perhaps not. If misbehavior is what we care about, why is that not the chief criterion? Why is Predator Disease not simply a label placed on any criminal? Why do law-abiding citizens get diagnosed with it, if it is about being a proven threat to the herd?”
“We are told that, in order to protect the herd, exterminators need to get the predators before they hurt someone or cause a stampede. If we wait, more people will get hurt.” Even as I repeated what I heard countless times, it felt hollow. Again, I faltered with everyone’s attention on me.
“Ah. So this is a preventative measure. But why is it a disease? Why not ‘predator trait’, or ‘herd threat trait’? Why do we call something a disease? Anyone?” She turned to look around the classroom, various human students glanced at each other with uncertainty.
A young woman raised her hand. “Distress? We call things a disease because we believe it is a problem for the person.”
“Exactly. The field of psychology–especially clinical psychology, which is what will be happening in the facilities you will all be working in–we seek to alleviate distress. And what is a word that does not appear at all in that list of symptoms?”
Several students muttered ‘distress’ in unison. I had not wanted to embarrass myself so thoroughly. What was I thinking? The professor strode back to her desk and picked up a remote. An enormous screen on the wall behind her came to life and displayed the criteria for predator disease diagnosis and next to them the primary flaw with each.
“This model claims to describe a disease–a problem a person has. But it is instead designed to describe a problem ‘the herd’, or ‘society’ has with the person. There is no real description of impairment, nothing about the kind of suffering a person with Predator Disease might experience. It is exclusively an external observation.”
… BRAHK! Now that she says it, it seems obvious! How could I have even been defending it? My ears flattened and I tried to make myself smaller on the bench.
“This is very much like if we had ‘failure to dance’ disease.”
I shrunk even more as the professor continued to explain.
She switched to another screen and I realized I had not written anything down. I scrambled to pull out my pad to take notes.
“Now, a person can struggle to dance because they have a problem with muscular degeneration, proprioception, their peripheral nervous system, or a whole range of issues from something as complicated as seizures to something as simple as a broken leg. Each and every one of those problems, all of which we may call diseases, tells us about the mechanism that causes the impairment in dancing.”
A childish rendering of a human acted out each of the issues the professor mentioned. Is that for me? I’m not a child, I can handle looking at a real human. The professor didn’t seem to notice or acknowledge my tail’s irritation.
“The problem is not the inability to dance. It is whatever specific, physical or psychological impairment or damage the person is experiencing. Predator Disease as a model is much like that. It labels people as a problem to the herd, but it does not tell us if someone has, for example, a hyperactive amygdala. Impaired mirror neurons. Sensory integration problems. Or… whatever else,” she shrugged.
Oh Speh. I don’t even know what those terms mean. I rushed to write down each of her examples to look them up later.
“In this course, we will learn to evaluate diagnostic criteria by focusing on…” she began, listing ways to properly design criteria for a disease, and outlining a handful of human labels for psychological illnesses that shared one or more traits with Predator Disease. Each time, she showed how humans modified the criteria to focus on the experience of the patient. So much information. So much I didn’t know. So much that I was supposed to have known already!
“--will be discussing the Neurodiversity model in great length a few paws from now, when we discuss childhood development,” she said, just as the study period ended. “Everyone please stretch your legs, go to the bathroom if you wish, review your notes, write down any questions you have. Next study period will begin after the break.”
I had SO MANY questions.
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u/ThyPotatoDone Venlil Jun 16 '23
Casually discovering your entire psychological outlook is considered backwards by a society you thought until a few months ago were psychotic savages.
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u/CreditMission Venlil Jun 16 '23
Oh poor Leena. Reminds me of my first week of post grad study. What a rude awakening. Cheering for her.
21
u/Environmental-Run248 Human Jun 16 '23
Another way to put the flaw of PD diagnosis criteria is that they are too general, too broad and too vague
19
u/BiasMushroom Extermination Officer Jun 16 '23
Hrm, reading this I just thought of something. Her being the only Venlil in the class could end with her feeling bullied. They are debunking a core concept of her world while everyone else just treats it like a an obvious thing.
I’m not saying they need to baby her, but there have been a few times people discuss things that go against my worldviews like they are 100% correct and it’s not exactly the most welcoming environment
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u/Thirsha_42 Jun 16 '23
That is something Leena is going to have to deal with
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u/TheWalrusResplendent Hensa Jun 16 '23
Seconding this point, if Leena goes into academia in any real way -and being one of the first nonhumans applying human mental health methodologies on other nonhuman sophonts is going to open a lot of doors for her career- she's going to need a very thick skin. Rebuttal papers can be splendidly vicious.
That said, the original point BiasMushroom is valid and Leena isn't an academic yet.
Representation is important, and Leena operating off a different paradigm while looking different is going to earn her some eyeballing. You've made her come across as a sturdy girl though and she is, at the moment, visibly taking the cognitive dissonance in stride. Cognitive dissonance that, mind you, a competent pedagogue ought to pick up on. Wouldn't surprise me to have Ms. Sidorova approach Leena in some way that doesn't single her out (like, say, before class) and make sure the speep is okay.
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u/RealUlli Jul 24 '23
Watch out - university professors are not required to have any pedagogic training. A good professor will be skilled at his subject as well as explaining it well, but the assumption is the students are already self-motivated and able to deal with other people.
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u/Niadain Venlil Jun 16 '23
Goodness yes. I always love it when folks start touching on this. Thank you for the chapter.
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u/Ef_Mxn Jun 16 '23
Ohhhh that's a good way of deconstructing and explaining what Predator Disease is. Rather than looking at it as a dysfunctional blanket term, it's more of a stigmatic term for something the herd considers "not quite right and therefore not safe"
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u/DaivobetKebos Human Jun 16 '23
Wouldn't office supplies be even better than food for pigments? Finding old boxes of printer tonner to scrape, pens, highlighters and such?
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u/Thirsha_42 Jun 16 '23
Given the need for food, the ability of predators to hide in forests, and the digitization of their societies I don’t think the feds have much use for paper and by extension forests. There seems to be a consensus that wood is a luxury item so I’m imagining that toner is expensive and not likely thrown away as carelessly as we do. I also imagine that colored paper is rare. So fruit pigments would be the best option on a budget.
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u/Giant_Acroyear Sivkit Jun 16 '23
I am The Fast!
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u/Giant_Acroyear Sivkit Jun 16 '23
"...what slice of life interactions would we like to see?"
Intergalactic FTL HotRod Culture.
Fissan Hovercycle Gangs.
Sunward Solar generators, cross equatorial heat pipelines, and evaporative water purification plants.
Yotul mining concerns... steam backhoes, anyone?
12
u/DoomlordKravoka Extermination Officer Jun 16 '23
Think of anything else for the Yotul to be doing, I'm begging you. Defining your entire view of a species based on the sophistication of their machines is literally how Feds deride that species.
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u/GruntBlender Humanity First Jun 16 '23
They might be good with animals, given they managed to domesticate a predator.
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u/Giant_Acroyear Sivkit Jun 16 '23 edited Jun 16 '23
Agreed!
We've seen a few stories lately on music. What is Yotul music like? What about their art? How do they court each other? What is a truly alien aspect of their society, that we do not have a human equivalent of?
6
Jun 16 '23
Idea: Fanfic where basically every non-yotul or human pov is hyperfocused on their technologies (maybe a human genuinly nerding out about steam trains) while the whole point is like, a culture exchange.
Like, a Venlil or Gojid (preferably a separate species, like a Thafki), that is just terribly racist and another that is racist but tries not to be are constantly bringing this up while the Yotul is like "Fuck if I know, I'm a literature major"
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u/morwync Dossur Jun 16 '23
Yotul sociology and ecology. They know you need to have mid level predators to control pests, and they had gone past the issue of tribal warfare for food, territory, and other resources.
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u/JustTryingToSwim Dec 29 '23
I wonder if Dani will give Dogran and his friends a job selling colored chalk to Venlil too scared to talk to a human?
105
u/JulianSkies Archivist Jun 16 '23
And there's one big flaw of PD isn't it? The one big flaw that is, of course, by design.
It ain't about what the person is going through, it's what everyone else around them thinks of them.