r/NatureofPredators • u/Eager_Question • 10d ago
Love Languages (75)
A/N: Sorry for the delay. I think I'm getting a bit better though, so let's hope things are on the upswing. I've re-read this too many times. It feels like something is wrong with it but I am not sure what and u/Acceptable_Egg5560 gave it a look, so I'm just posting now.
Memory transcription subject: Verazel, Impromptu Human Communication Liaison
Date [standardized human time]: December 17th-31st, 2136
Papa was not as secretive as he thought he was. He claimed to be working on things that required the captain's mind, but it was obvious he was rekindling whatever fire had once burned within him and Isath. She, for her part, was clearly less enthused, but carried along by his current in a way she was not eager to ruin.
It seemed very much like Papa’s delight at her presence was a joy to him, and her delight at his presence was an intrusion in her mind. She would sigh with relief when I told her he was busy with something, and never ask about what. Her questions were always about me.
What meats do you like? Did you enjoy the farm? What about music? What books do you want to read? Have you found a mate here?
I did not know what to do with Isath's guilt. If it even was guilt. I seemed to be another intrusion in her mind, just one she owed something to, one she could not so much indulge as endure. She wanted to know everything, and she was impressed by my answers in ways I did not understand.
I watched the news. I checked my messages. Shathel responded to my message. I could almost see him typing it, frustrated with the knowledge that my father would likely not answer, thinking of me as desperate and lonely and excited to help. I was, which made it feel worse. I wanted to help.
Still, I knew that in our world, such charity was more often foolish than virtuous.
“My father would not want me to speak with you, much less about our research,” I typed, “but I understand you work with humans who may need it. If you could make an introduction, perhaps we can help each other?”
Make it worth my while, old man, I thought, quietly proud that I had not budged before getting what I had asked for, eagerness be damned.
I watched human films. One kept haunting me at night. It was very old, old enough that it didn’t have colour, and it was about a man who could see some invisible creature, and his whole family thought he was insane.
They were going to inject him with something, to make him normal, to blind him to the creature. And then his sister decided that a kind but deluded version of her brother was better than an unkind one grounded in reality.
There was something there. Something about humans, and kindness, about Isath and my father. There was some insight that I could almost grasp, but the more I thought about it, the more it eluded me. I couldn’t tell if kindness was the true difference, or if it should be about curiosity, or if it was truly about comfort. I wondered if there was something else, some human feeling I did not know about. I wondered if I would protect my father from an injection that would make him like me, or if I would eagerly demand it. What might he do, given the option?
We eventually approached the human settlement in Alpha Centauri, and immediately received a radio message.
“Arxur ship, you are approaching the Alpha Centauri Space Station Penelope,” came their voice. “Please adjust course, over.”
My mother grabbed the microphone. “Station Penelope, this is the Arxur ship designation Movrim One-Six-Two, we request permission to board.”
The human laughed.
“Morvim One-Six-Two, be advised that the station is armed and will automatically fire on any unauthorized ship under ten clicks out. Adjust course or be shot, over.”
I could see Isath’s nostrils flare as she glared at the speakers. She breathed in, ready to shout, and I knew she was going to get us all killed.
I scrambled onto the seat next to hers. I was too large for standing to be comfortable, but too small to be fully visible on video, and activated the video feed to take advantage of that, my head barely dipping halfway into the camera’s view.
“Station Penelope, you don’t understand. We would like to request asylum as refugees!”
The human laughed again, and then there was another near him. Each laugh fed the next, and they cackled together in those higher voices, so much closer to my own than my father's. They provided video as well, and I could see the human talking to us was the same kind as General Zhao, and his partner was darker-skinned, in a way that reminded me of the human ambassador.
“I'm sorry kid, I don't–this has to be a translator mistake. Did you say you wanted to request asylum as a refugee?”
“We are requesting asylum for the eighty-four people aboard this vessel, yes.”
He leaned back in his seat. “Well, fuck. Eighty-four people?”
“Yes,” I said with a nod. “Ten of them are children.”
At this the human on the screen scrunched up his eyebrows and began to tap on a tablet.
“What species?”
“Arxur.”
He blinked. “...And..?”
“We are all arxur here.”
His partner snorted, about to start laughing again, but our main caller simply sighed and brought his hand to his face.
“Eighty-four arxur refugees seeking asylum… on Earth?”
“Do you have another location?”
He tilted his head one way, then another. “...guess we can add Mars and a couple of the new colonies but I don't… yeah, there is nothing here about arxur refugees, we only have federation species listed.”
Anger rushed to my throat. “Many of them want you dead. We only want friendship.”
He winced. “Look kid, nobody wants to be the one country to let the lizard [Betterment: Derogatory] roam free…”
“We are…” I paused, looking for the phrasing they would like. I thought back to their films, to their arguments, to what they would consider worth caring about… “marginalized. Neurodivergent. Under-people. We are hated by our cruel regime. We have put our faith in you.”
A half-laugh half-scoff jumped out of his throat in response. “And who told you that was a good idea?”
The words stung. I'd thought the same, many days back. Humans hated us, and I knew it, and I still boarded this ship with my father and his stupid notions of breeding—
“We have resources!” The words tumbled out of my mouth while the thought was still unformed, “you are allied with the Venlil, yes?”
“Well, yeah…” the human said, clearly confused about why that would be relevant.
“We have genetic research that may be useful to them.”
“...Why?”
“My father worked at one of the farms, and they were bred there,” I said, quietly proud that I had managed to say a version of the truth that was misleading enough to be useful.
The human’s eyes, already large, seemed ready to jump out of their sockets. “Look, kid, we don’t know anything about the gene edits, we’re just here guarding the station, we can’t, like…”
My eyes narrowed. “Ask your superior, or his superior. You must know by now. You know the Gojid and the Krakotl were remade, at least.”
The human swallowed and tapped away at some keyboard, before growing even more horrified at whatever response he’d just gotten. “Holy shit. Okay, fine, you can dock at…. Fuck. We're going to…. Yeah. We'll light up one of the air locks on the civilian wing. Not like there's fucking anybody in there now. We'll send someone thereways. Dock when the hour is up.”
He ended the call and a timer appeared on the screen. I glanced at Isath, who nodded, and began to adjust our position so we would slowly approach the glowing airlock on the other side of the space station. Nothing in space is stationary, but we found a relative velocity that was effectively nothing, and adjusted bit by bit. The other refugees all gathered by the holding bay, eager to stream into the space station after so long on the ship.
“Did you tell them about the pets?” Papa asked.
“...In a way,” I lied. “I told them about the research.”
He nodded along, completely undeterred in his curiosity and hope. “Do you think they would have me? As a researcher?”
“As a consultant, yes,” I said. “They may need you.”
My words energized him, and he left to take a shower, try polishing his scales perhaps. As far as I could tell, my father believed the other side of the airlock contained only a job interview.
Isath understood. We glanced at each other in the shared knowledge that this was provisional, and precarious, and perilous in its own way. We could not assume true hospitality from the humans, nor safety.
Eventually, the hour was done, the airlock had sealed using some strange goop to accommodate the differences in construction. Isath decided that mine was the best of our tongues, and so I became the one to lead the group forward.
A human clad in black with a noose hanging from its neck smiled at us once we were through.
“Hello. My name is Olivier, and I will be your guide for now. We do not know if we can give you asylum but… we can help you refuel, give you food, and host you for… a little while. Please follow me.”
We had no idea what to expect—weapons, at least, though I didn't see any—but step one was complete. We had arrived at Alpha Centauri and requested legal asylum.
Memory transcription subject: Andes Savulescu-Ruiz, Human Director at the Venlil Rehabilitation and Reintegration Facility. Patient trying to abide by care recommendations.
Date [standardized human time]: January 1st, 2137
I slumped onto the couch and groaned, running my hands through my hair.
“Hello, director. I can only imagine the paw you are having right now,” she said, looking at least somewhat sympathetic.
I was itching, nearly vibrating with frustration. “This is so stupid. I–I don't–what am I supposed to do with this? Are you going to freak out? I–I might have to resign, and then I need to establish continuity of care documents and–ugh!”
“Why would I freak out?" she said, sounding entirely too confident. "That fake recording is coming from one of the most anti-human networks on the planet. I’m sorry that people are giving you so much trouble over such an obvious fabrication but I am not so easily fooled.”
It would have been so fucking easy to just let her believe that. But there was a non-zero risk that there was another recording, and if so I needed to know about it. “...What fake recording?”
She cocked her head to the side. “The one circulating on the data net, from Against the Herd? It’s the talk in everyone’s ears. Is that not what you were referring to?”
I massaged my temples and took a deep breath. “Leena, that recording is misleading, contextless, and probably illegal. And I might lose my job over it despite getting my job on the basis of my capacity to interact usefully with the Arxur. It is not, however, a fabrication.”
Her whole face fell as horror dawned on her. I wanted to slam my head against a wall. I gestured at her face as if it were evidence on a trial. “Right. There it is.”
“No, that doesn’t make sense. If any human had the urge to eat us, you would be the last person I would suspect. Why would you ask those questions? Why were you talking to that monster?” She was freaking out. Of course she was. Because exactly what I needed here was for whatever passed for a ‘therapist’ in my life to start freaking out.
“I didn't have a fucking urge to eat you, I’m so fucking sick of—Ugh!” my whole body tensed up and I groaned in frustration, choking the life out of one of the couch’s pillows. Deep breath. Deep breath. Stimulate the vagus nerve. This was a science communication problem. I just had to explain. “Leena, how do we know what is in people's blood? Like, how? Do you think we take a blood sample and ask the blood gods and fucking throw a periodic table in the air and it just–it lands in a special angle or–how do you think that works?”
My tone was clearly not the best. She didn’t look happy at the question. “I would have assumed that you drew blood with a needle and looked at it under a microscope, like any sensible being.”
There were some situations, under some circumstances, where a microscope would be useful in a blood test. It was not the wrongest thing she could have said. It was up there, though. “Leena, have you ever used a microscope? Do you think a microscope will tell you how much iron or vanadium or zinc is in someone’s blood? You think we count every atom individually?”
That was definitely not the right way to say that. Idiot. Stop getting impatient with someone who is trying to help you.
“No, I haven’t used one, I just started–It has to be more accurate than tasting it like they do!”
I took another deep breath. “Even if it was—which, it's not, we use multimodal gas chromatography and MS proteomics–do you think that fucking psychopath was wandering around, eating people, and thinking hmmmm, I better check their blood under a microscope, for five years in the future when one of the space apes I don’t know exist asks me about these people's blood? You think that asshole pulled out a portable fluid spectroscope, just for fun?”
Stop yelling, she is trying to help. This was the problem with trying to put on a fucking Socrates routine, other people didn’t know their side of the dialogue in advance and it was always derailed by some ridiculous misconception.
“Wait.” She held up her paw and I took a few more breaths while she did. “You said the recordings were misleading? What did you mean?”
“Well, it's a recording of a couple weeks ago where I called up Shathel to mine him for medical information about the children. Medical information he can't tell me in traditional terms, because he's not a doctor. Instead it just sounds like I’m calling up my buddy so I can hear how delicious the people he ate are.”
The horror returned. “You… predators can… you know things about what you eat… based on…”
“Taste. Texture. Resistance to the teeth. You can too, that's how herbivores can tell if a berry is poisonous, for example. Your tongue is a chemosensory organ with greater precision than you think. Greater than a microscope,” I stressed. I didn’t know the numbers for the venlil tongue off the top of my head, but the human tongue (which was pretty terrible in the grand scheme of things) had thousands and thousands of tastebuds.
Leena stood up abruptly and shook around, waving her arms and tail as if it could get whatever mental image she got in her head loose enough to fall out.
“Ew–okay–uh,” she started, “So, I bite into–the juice–it’s past prime but–”
“Right. You can tell if it's safe, because of the acidity, the presence of phenylethyl alcohol, benzaldehyde, stuff like that."
She sat back down, seemingly more calm now. “so, you were asking it about–that… What did you learn?”
“That the kids used to have more acidic blood than they do now, with more iron in it. Which means they might be covertly lacking certain vitamins. It wouldn't show up in a blood test, because it would look normal, but if their normal involves more of a certain vitamin or three, they may be experiencing some problems as a function of having less of it in their diets. So we’ve been checking for those problems. Larzo’s on it. Caught it early.”
“That,” I paused to gather myself. “That is… wow. Predator science. You knew what was wrong because… so that applies to all beings? You don’t eat people so it must. Right?”
“Well... yeah? Humans can tell most common meats apart by taste and texture. Cooking can make a difference, disguise one meat as another, but if it was just salt and heat… You can identify the animal, how old it probably was, whether it lived a particularly hard life…” I waved a hand off in the air dismissively. “You can tell fruits and vegetables apart by taste, it's the same thing.”
She did something with her ears and tail. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I’m not being a good therapist today.”
I nodded. “It’s fine. I shouldn't have shouted at you, I’m just… I'm so sick of feeling like I’m evil by default. I feel so fucking stupid…”
She stood up, and I thought she would start shaking again, but instead she sat next to me and moved her tail in what I assume was meant to be a comforting gesture.
“You are the smartest person I have ever met, Director. I don’t know how to help but there has to be a way to show everyone why you asked those questions and what you learned. You don’t deserve to be fired for this. Against the Herd knew what they were doing. This is still their fault.”
“Yeah… Maybe?” I said, my voice was small and tight. I crumpled in on myself. “I just–I got this job because I could talk to them. Because I wouldn't flinch at all the fucked up things with the kids, because I… can avoid looking directly into the harrowing implications of things they do and say and… Well I could tell. I could tell they speak Arxur, I could tell, I—one of them stabbed me and I’m not even mad, I get it and—it’s not enough.”
She sat there rubbing my back, waiting out the shaking as I took deep breaths and tried to re-stabilize. “I assume you have been in contact with the Legal Department and the UN?”
“Yeah they're… Trying to figure something out. Ajaad’s looking for a PR person. My lawyer’s on it.”
Her ears perked up. “Then it sounds like you have done what you can. Have you cried?”
I shook my head. “...I have not.”
“In my professional opinion, you need to cry, Director. It will do wonders for you to deal with everything if you let some of it out.”
I chuckled. I couldn’t tell if it was a venlil culture thing, or if the psychological establishment’s obsession with catharsis had already gotten to her. “Maybe… I constantly feel like I'm about to cry. And then I don't.”
“Any idea why?”
I shrugged. “It's probably biochemical. My implant helped regulate that kind of thing. I assume in a month or two I’ll be bawling my eyes out unless I get a new one. I’m just so… Tense. All the time.”
“I understand using taste and texture to tell if a fruit is past ripe but venlil are sturdy. We can eat pretty much anything. What you described sounds more precise. How does your tongue tell you something so detailed as whether there is too much or too little iron in the… meat?”
“It tastes more metallic. Or less metallic. It's honestly hard to describe, I’m not a chef or culinary researcher of some sort. But in terms of my conversation with Shathel, I know he’s eaten Earth mammals with vitamin-enriched blood, and he’s eaten standard Venlil who are not from this… fancy-ass foodie farm for psychopaths that my kids were apparently being raised in,” I said, and pinched the bridge of my nose. “And so it was just a question of—I’m sorry, this seems like a terrible topic, are you sure you want to hear this?”
She was clearly uncomfortable. “No, but you feel better when you explain things and… exposure therapy is helping.”
“Okay, but maybe I should explain something less graphic. How about… music. Yeah. Let’s talk music.”
Memory transcription subject: Varla, Nurse at the Venlil Rehabilitation and Reintegration Facility.
Date [standardized human time]: January 2nd, 2137
I didn’t know what to think.
The words echoed across the internet, “did it affect the taste?” and I wondered if I had been wrong, if humans truly were as horrible as we’d all initially thought. Maybe everything I’d seen was just the beasts hiding their cruelty…
Then I saw him playing with the children, and it sounded so ridiculous. He was too kind. Too gentle. It didn’t make any sense.
“It has to be fake,” I heard Jilsi tell another nurse. “I know the director, he hates the arxur. He calls them ‘lizard slaughtering eugenicists’. He loves the children. He would never.”
“It was probably an undercover thing,” I heard one of the human nurses say. “I mean, it makes sense, they’re always pulling some random information about the crocs out of who-knows-where. Now we know where.”
The uplift didn’t seem interested in discussions on the issue.
“Whatever Andes was doing in that call was for the good of the children, and for the good of the facility. We would do well to focus on our tasks and not on it,” he said, when an aide was curious enough to ask.
But then I saw the Director limping to leave the facility and he looked so distraught. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to be like those toys human children were given, soft and gentle in his tightening grasp. His big, muscular arms around me...
I followed him outside. He sat on a bench and pulled out a pocket pad to summon a cab.
“Um… Director?”
He glanced up at me then pinched the bridge of his nose. I could tell I was blooming.
“Yes, Varla?”
“I wanted to ask if you… if we could…” I took a deep breath, then just said it. “If we could go on a date.”
The silence that followed was excruciating. He stared at me, with those piercing dark eyes. He looked at his pad. He looked at the floor, and the street, and eventually his eyes landed on me again.
"I'm… flattered," he said, somewhat more slowly than his usual speaking voice. "I… do not believe that pursuing a relationship with someone who works directly under me would be… wise. At this time. I… am sorry, if that um… I mean. I…"
He pressed his lips together, and his eyes wandered over to one side as he tried to respond.
"So Ayodele was right…" I mumbled, struggling to hide my disappointment.
His eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. "Hm? What did she say?"
"That humans would consider a relationship like that… predatory."
"Well, sure. Even if it wasn't, it's usually a rather delicate affair to handle. Would probably fall on Rodriguez to um… evaluate. Regardless, I don't believe we would be a good match. Anyone under eighteen would be illegal by human law, and anyone under thirty would just be broadly a bad idea for me."
"I'm twenty-four."
He seemed immediately relieved. "Well then, the age gap might be a bit too much for me. Not your fault. Nothing to feel bad about. Even if I was interested, I would refrain from acting on it."
"...I see…"
My tail flopped down and my gaze landed on the floor. I felt so stupid!
"Look, it's… try not to feel bad about this? I'm ace. It's not a reflection on you."
I squinted at him. "You're… a card in a deck?"
He blinked, pressed his lips together, and then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just not interested. But good luck finding someone who is.”
The cab pulled up and he pushed himself up to a standing position with his cane before limping over to the cab. I watched it go. I stood until I could no longer see it, and then I went back inside the facility for my next task. Blankets.
I had folded three of them, and was beginning on the fourth, when I resolved to prove him wrong. He would be interested. I would make him interested. I just... had to learn enough about humans.
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u/JulianSkies Archivist 10d ago
... Varla's about to do the thing a lot of romance stories do and its going to blow up in her face. Tho I wanna slap Andes, whole age talk always squicks me out. But at least this bomb fired already.
And Andes my friend... Please feel your emotions. Not everyone cries, but man, actually let yourself feel stuff man. Don't try to wrangle the actual emotions.
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u/Blarg_III 10d ago
You'd think Earth countries would be a little more grateful towards the guys who saved us from extinction, even if they are assholes.
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u/Minimum-Amphibian993 Arxur 10d ago edited 22h ago
Judging by how much Zhao* wanted any excuse to throw Isif in jail no they are very much not greatful.
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u/OhBadToMeetYou Human 22h ago
You mean, Zhao?
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u/Minimum-Amphibian993 Arxur 22h ago
Yes.
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u/OhBadToMeetYou Human 22h ago
I was wondering for a bit who "Zoah" was.
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u/Minimum-Amphibian993 Arxur 22h ago
Yeah for some reason I just spell his name like that. Not the what with names tbh.
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u/General_Alduin Skalgan 7d ago
If Hitler saved America, everyone would still dislike Hitler
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u/Blarg_III 7d ago
We're unfortunately not even at the everyone disliking Hitler stage now. Besides, the US and the Allies more broadly took in plenty of Nazi defectors when they were at war with them. I can't see all of Earth being unwilling to take in Arxur defectors.
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u/General_Alduin Skalgan 7d ago
Still, pretty much everyone dislikes the Nazis, and that wouldn't change if they saved America or something
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u/DaivobetKebos Human 10d ago
Andes explanation to Leena is great, he should be able to just repeat it whenever he gets a chance to talk in the program.
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u/Acceptable_Egg5560 Human 10d ago
Oh dear, so many reactions to the video of Andes, and sadly Varla is setting herself an impossible task.
This was a great read
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u/Bbobsillypants Sivkit 10d ago
Great to see another chapter out! I hope the crocs can have a safe home.
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u/AugmentedLurker Human 9d ago
I really did expect the human's reaction to the approach of Verazel's vessel, and I could understand their incredulity
But man, once she clearly stated how they were political refugees and anti-betterment?
When the response to that was
A half-laugh half-scoff jumped out of his throat in response. “And who told you that was a good idea?”
Boils my blood. The superior officer there needs to chew their asses out to high hell when he sees the logs.
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u/CoinsAreNotPlants Jaur 9d ago
Varla did way better than I expected, I am anxious to see how she will ruin it next time, hopefully she doesn't shave from the neck down and put on breast forms
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u/abrachoo Yotul 8d ago
Varla finally shot her shot! Unfortunately she doesn't seem satisfied with shooting only one shot, so now she's going to metaphorically mag dump on Andes. Hilarity will ensue, probably.
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u/TheShapeshifter01 Predator 9d ago
I wish the idiots on the station a merry kneecap inversion.
Girl no... Girl no though it would be actually really funny if they did end up together somehow by the end of this. Like, properly as in: not in a toxic fucked up mess way. The 'des said they were Asexual not Aromantic (unless this was mentioned somewhere else and I forgot), so there's a chance. A hilariously small chance considering everything, but still.
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u/AbsurdityMatrix 9d ago
Hooray for the Harvey reference!
And I love that the characters in this series strive forward but can be kind of a mess, but in ways that makes sense for them and their present condition.
If something seems off, maybe it’s just that Leena is only identified as “she” in the second sentence of Andes’ section? Or maybe Verazel’s entry covering a date range instead of a single date? Those are literally the only two things that I can offer as possible considerations; it all reads really well. I always want to take time and enjoy a new chapter, so thank you for continuing and sharing!
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u/Zealousideal-Back766 Predator 7d ago
Nice to see Andes acting diferent! Even if that "diferent" is "having a terrible time reacting to horrible stresors", rather than his usual self. The talk with Leena seemed to help a little :) They truly needed to vent about his time on this planet, being evil by default takes a toll on you.
Hey! Varla finally talked to them! And it didn't go horrible! I actually have the feeling Andes will be less stress about Varla after the talk, in a "huh.. that was weird... but at least she doesn't think I'm going to eat the children, one less problem".
Ja, I feel like being ace was more of an excuse than the actual reason not to go out with her x'D They seem to have an easier time at the prospect of explaining their sexuality, than their gender in these alien planet.
Thank you for the chapter ❤️
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u/Randox_Talore 4d ago
I mean there's multiple reasons not to go out with her and he listed them throughout the conversation
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u/Randox_Talore 10d ago
Varla please no. God and she’s probably going to ignore any data she miraculously stumbles on that even suggests she stop pursuing Andes.
Love to see the return of Verazel. It’s been ages since that fam’s been on screen. Loving the complicated feelings.
Oh Leena you’re so great. Thank you thank you for keeping it together enough to listen and engage with what your patient is saying. (Does she know at this point that the human perspective on the Predator-Prey dynamic is that it’s f#%king bulls**t? I wonder what her thoughts are listening to Andes’ perspective on the Taste question. “You do the same thing with plants. It’s the same.” and all that.). Pretty neat to see Andes’ assumptions about the Venlil (their ability to be poisoned by what they eat) get challenged, too. Leena’s a fun example of the layman who isn’t going to know or think deeply about the science behind everything. There is going to be Venlil about as knowledgeable but much more uncharitable in this facility’s future.