No Good Deed

An Apex Short Story

-by Ninmast Nunyabiz-

Most cultures have a saying, in one version or another. You can't see the mountain from the inside, for instance. Measuring the ocean from the reef is a popular one, too. Admiring the view from the valley is another. The variations are as diverse as the people they come from.

For Humans, it's that you can't see the forest for the trees, the sophists.

However it's said, it always comes down to the same rough translation: Sometimes, you're too close to the problem to see it.

Far away from Earth, many light years distant, the Galactic Union was an alliance of species and civilizations spanning dozens of systems. Somewhere within its borders, in two different places and, by sheer coincidence, at roughly the same time, two people were studying the newest civilized race to be discovered, in two very different ways.

At one location, a geologist studied the planet they came from. Coming into it, he expected to find pretty much the galactic standard for planets that evolve sapient life. The planet would be safe enough, and stable enough, to support the development of complex life without promptly killing it off. The biodiversity would be relatively standardized across the settled portion. A tame and gentle sun would bathe it in life-giving warmth.

At another location, a biologist studied the species' physical attributes. Similar to the geologist, he, too, had a series of expectations, some of which were met before he ever began. Parallel evolution was rampant across the galaxy, leading most advanced lifeforms to adopt nearly identical forms despite being from entirely different planets. Early biologists had taken it as a sign of panspermia, the artificial seeding of life from a single entity across the galaxy, and there were more than a few theologians that still held to it.

Both were destined to find their expectations, and even their very worldviews, shattered by the anomaly that was Humanity.

* * *

The problems with the planet started to become obvious the moment you even entered the system. With three asteroid belts and the number of planets approaching double digits, especially depending on how you defined the word, to call the system "cluttered" would be like saying an ocean had water in it. With so much mass in a relative space, it was no surprise that there wasn't a single rocky planet that didn't show extensive signs of meteorite, or even asteroid bombardment.

Sol-3, locally called Earth, wasn't any different in this distinction, but a strong upper atmosphere actually crushed most meteorites, causing them to implode and burn up before ever reaching the ground. Holding onto such a deep atmosphere was only possible because of the strength of the magnetic field generated by the centrifugal force of its core, itself a defense against powerful solar winds.

It turned out the Earth's sun, Sol, while still a yellow sun like that of most cradle world systems, was actually excessively violent for such a star. It raged and blasted, roaring its fury into the vacuum of space, and all of the inner planets suffered for its wrath. Gusts of solar wind that would strip a lesser planet of its precious atmosphere and ionic solar flares that would burn them away weren't even the worst threats it posed. It bathed every world in its system with deadly ultraviolet radiation so intense that it even penetrated Earth's mighty defenses.

Even Earth, itself, wasn't on her children's side. It was incredibly tectonically active, with near-constant earthquakes of varying intensity and whole chains of volcanos. Its plates moved at radically different speeds, as well, all the way up to a blazing ten meters a decade. Whole islands were birthed and then ground away to nothing by the endless waves just by the planet dragging its own crust across its surface like a child with a dirty blanket.

Furthermore, three-quarters of its surface was covered by water in various forms, leaving limited land for its surface life to even use. With that same land constantly changing, nothing could be considered a true constant over evolutionary time frames. On top of that, most of that water was heavily salinated, making it not just unusable, but especially unwelcoming to most life as the galaxy knew it. And most of the land was scattered across completely different biomes, ranging from bone dry deserts to frozen wastelands, fetid swamps to sweltering jungles, open plains devoid of cover to dense forests shadowed even in the height of day.

So how did life evolve in such a hellscape? Surely, the varying climate alone would region-lock developing life until its chosen environment sank into the sea from the constant tectonic movement? By any metric of biodiversity, Sol III life took a "brute force" approach to survival. While most planets are considered diverse with a million or so different organisms, initial bioscans indicated a number for Earth exceeding a trillion, a million million millions, with a massive percentage of that being microbial or insectile. Viruses were the most successful form of life, by number of species, by a nearly unfathomable margin.

The planet was, against all odds, absolutely thick with life, forcing everything to become hyper-competitive to survive. Nearly everything was toxic, or disease-ridden, or had plague levels of propagation. Usually, some combination of all three. Predators were bigger, meaner, smarter. Plant growth was aggressive and destructive, actively strangling its competition. Thorns and spikes, thick bark and impenetrable hides formed defenses against claws, fangs and endless, rapidly evolving biological warfare. The entire planet's circle of life was locked in a battle royale to be the last one standing.

And this was the world that birthed Humanity.

With shaking limbs, the geologist rushed to report a reclassification of Earth. It needed to be barred, barricaded and quarantined. It was no garden world, and how a species lasted long enough to become civilized was beyond his field of consideration. Sol III was to be recategorized, effective immediately, as the highest-ranking Death World on Union record.

* * *

The problems with humans as a species were much harder to notice. Indeed, the general consensus was to compare them to the physically similar Undpani, another primate species. Superficially, this was perfectly serviceable, with the number of apparent similarities seeming greater than their differences. Both possessed head hair as their only noteworthy fur, both had rounded ears, and they had similar physiques and facial profiles. Hide an Undpan's tail, and you could practically pass them off as a Human. What few visual differences there were would be covered by shoes, hairstyle, ... and by rarely smiling, the Undpan's flat teeth an insurmountable give-away.

Socially, they were both outgoing, highly expressive, and physically communicative. The Undpani were ... moreso, but to most Union species, having that tuned down would be a welcome difference. They were very friendly, but they simply tended to be ... a bit too much ... everything.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The average person, indeed, the average biologist, would be mostly content to leave the matter there. This one, however, got that itch of curiosity, and just had to look deeper. It would be an engrossing project as he found himself unable to look away from the growing paperwork and physicals from their one sample. He had no way of knowing when he started that the night before he finished would be the last time he'd sleep soundly without medicinal assistance.

Humans, it turned out, were not much like Undpani at all. For one thing, they were omnivores, while Undpani were obligate herbivores. That, in and of itself, wasn't much of a red flag. There were other omnivorous Union species, and it didn't automatically mean that you were a predator. The Chisay, for example, had a diet consisting largely of nuts, berries, fruits, vegetables, some leafy greens, and insects. Furthermore, most mammalian species ended up with a dairy industry, technically making them somewhat omnivorous even if they never actually ate any meat.

Humans also had excellent night vision, able to see a single flame from a distance they called a mile in total darkness. Night vision wasn't nearly as common among Union species, but it wasn't unheard of. All of their other senses were also excellent, most notably their hearing and sense of smell. This would have been more of a red flag on its own, but in a species with already strong senses, it didn't stick out.

Their stomach acid was particularly potent, capable of breaking down even solid iron, but this was most likely the explanation behind their diverse diet. Humans were able to eat nearly anything, even to the point of enjoying things like spiciness that were supposed to be defense mechanisms. This was typical of species that evolved as scavengers, however, even if the strength of the trait was exceptional, and again, it was passed over without particularly deep thought.

The first time something really caught his attention, it was the muscle fibers. That was the first thing that didn't make sense. Human strength - their power to weight ratio - was only a little above the Union average, good but nothing particularly exceptional. But that was why the fibers didn't make any sense. By all reason, with the performance per fiber and the density they came in, a given Human should have as much power as a primate four times their weight. With some rough calculations, that would have put Humans at the high end of strength among Union species, not barely breaking average.

That soon led him to their bones. Their lattice construction made them lightweight for their material density, and yet they were stronger than the very same iron their stomach acid was capable of dissolving. Their material construction would further render them immune to electric shock, unable to be burned, and nearly impossible to melt with acid. They were a natural armor against stressors the biologist couldn't possibly imagine.

And yet those muscles should have been able to snap the very bones they were anchored to in two. He told himself that he must have made a mistake with the math, but didn't dare do it again.

Humans were endurance performers, excellent ones at that. They had numerous ways to get fuel to their muscles, even if they couldn't get enough oxygen to them. Like most endurance performers, this meant slower muscles that used less energy without sacrificing power. Humans definitely had those ... but they possessed a strange dual-type musculature that threaded fast-twitch ones in, as well. It was almost as if they were built for long distances, but could launch off at a moment's notice.

Those could be for fleeing danger, or responding to a rapidly changing situation, and it was hard to argue against the defensive trait of running for longer than your pursuer can give chase.

But the biologist began to feel a cold lump in his chest as he reviewed the documentation and remembered the strong senses. The varied diet. The strange shoulder structure that enabled superior throwing and the precision of Human movement tracking.

As the pieces came together, he went through the documentation one more time, each page outlined in a new, horrifying light. He only got halfway through before he threw the files from his lap and staggered toward the phone.

He had to tell them. He had to tell someone. Humans might be the deadliest predator Union space had ever seen.

* * *

As this was transpiring, Ashley Jones, the lone Human in all of Union space, was blissfully unaware of any of it.

She had recently been admitted into a Union university on a refugee scholarship, where she would be doing a remedial course to make sure she was up to par, akin to a G.E.D. Then she'd be enrolled in the university proper, well on her way to a career in AI studies.

She was walking home with two friends she had made. It was late, but they hoped their presence in numbers would dissuade any trouble. Buddy system and all that.

It wasn't to be.

It was under a particular lamp post that a large man stepped out ahead of them, causing them to stop. His grin showed serrated teeth and there was a dagger in his hand.

Behind them, two more stepped out to enclose them in a triangle.

"Ladies," the one in front greeted them. "It's late out! Why don't you come back home with us for dinner?"

"Sorry, you boys aren't our type." The retort was out of the human's mouth before it even needed to be thought about.

"Spunky one, aren't you?" he asked back, and narrowed his eyes at her own. "Those eyes ... those are interesting eyes you've got for a Prey."

Preys and Preds. The dynamic defined the largest divide in Union society. It had never occurred to Ashley, and no one had thought to explain it to her beyond caution, but the Galactic Union believed that only prey species that evolved a Herd Mentality before achieving sapience could become a civilized species. Predator species were considered sociopaths, unable to form the bonds necessary for civilization.

This was in no small part due to Preds, predator species that had evolved sapience, but continued to prey on other sapients. Not all predator species were Preds, but all Preds were predators, and it was considered only enlightened egoism that could permit a predator species to engage with society within the bounds of law at all.

She didn't bother correcting the predator, anyway. Instead, she glanced back to the two girls behind her. "When I say go," she said quietly, "run to the side. Run and escape. Get help."

"What are you going to do," one of them asked back, her voice shaking.

"I'm going to be a distraction."

"No! They'll tear you apart!"

"Then you'd better hurry back with that help, hadn't you?"

The leader took a step forward. "What are you whispering about over there?"

Ashley turned her gaze back to him. "I was just telling them, you should step over here and take a closer look, we'll see what happens to you."

He let out a low growl. "You sure throw around a lot of shit for a primate, girly."

She couldn't help it. The absurdity of the comment made her laugh even as she stared at him to gauge if he was serious. "Wow. Either you've got a great sense of humor, or you've never met primates from my planet."

He growled again, bent down, prepared to lunge ...

"GO!" Ashley shouted and dashed forward toward the leader.

She felt a piercing pain in her side as the dagger went in, but focused on slamming a shoulder into his chest, anyway.

One of the others went to run for the other girls, so she ripped the dagger back out without a thought and hurled it at him.

The third was coming for her, but the adrenaline was pumping through her, and he seemed nothing but slow. She ducked under his clawed swing, gripped the arm of his second, and slammed her forehead into his.

The leader was starting to rise, and she wheeled about and kicked him across the head, sending him back down again.

She was breathing heavily, looking around for the next one to move. Slowly, it dawned on her that none of them did.

"What the hell ...?" she gasped, her right hand finding the wound in her side and clamping over it. "Why were they so weak?"

Blood loss and pain finally brought her to one knee, but she heard sirens coming. The girls must have found someone.

"Ashley!" one of them called out as they rounded the corner.

"I'm okay," she assured them, but any further words froze in her throat as two squads of Defenders busted around the corner, as well. One of them pulled her fellow students back, but the rest moved to surround her.

One young woman, surrounded by three dead preds, one with a skull crushed like an egg, another with a neck snapped by torsion, and a third with a dagger jutting from his jugular. The cops all trained their weapons on her.

"Put your hands up where we can see them," one demanded.

"I can't," she called back, annoyed. "I'm injured!"

"I said hands where we can see them! We will not repeat the order!"

So she did as they said, slowly pulling her hand away from the wound and getting down on the other knee so she no longer needed the other hand to support herself, and raised both into the air.

Mutters went around quickly. Apparently, they hadn't believed she was actually hurt until they saw it.

"She sounded more pissed than hurt," one said.

"That's a serious wound," another observed.

"She said she was okay," a third recalled.

"Lay down on your stomach and put your hands behind your back," the one that had been giving orders to her demanded next.

She complied, albeit tenderly.

"What's going on?!" one of the girls demanded off to the side. "What are you doing?! We were the ones that were attacked!"

"Please stay back away from the predator, ma'am."

"The predator?! No, she's a student! She's with us!"

"Please," the other begged as two officers held the human against the ground and a third cuffed her, just to haul her up off of the ground again.

"She was only trying to help!"