Memory transcription subject: Estala, Prestige Extermination Officer, Krakotl to Venlil Extermination training leader.
Date [standardized human time]: May 8th, 2134
“Welcome everyone. Thank you for your time and presence today.”
I tried to keep my voice as enthusiastic as possible, even as the weeks and months weighed on me. Venlil Prime was… rough. The constant sunlight and oppressive gravity was draining me of any energy I had, straining my feigned attempt at positivity.
“This is a mandatory training event on how to properly diagnose predator disease after a confirmed report from one or more members of the public. I am Prestige Exterminator Estala, otherwise known as the ‘Hero of Voyak’. Before I start, do we have any questions?”
I looked out into the sea of mostly Venlil faces staring back at me, bored tail flicks and uninterested expressions filling the otherwise sparsely furnished Predator Disease test viewing room. A computer with the results of the already complete analysis was shown on the monitor to my left, and a one way glass plane filled the entire wall behind me, allowing us to see the patient in question.
One of the Venlil, an Officer Purdal slowly raised a paw, standing out from the crowd of Exterminators packed into this small room. I’d made sure to gather at least one Exterminator from each district on Venlil Prime, which led to a veritable herd of people packed together in one place.
Also, all I can smell right now is fur. The Venlil’s lack of smell is very apparent.
“Why are we here?” Purdal asked slowly, getting a few bleats of agreement as he spoke. “Just because Dawn Creek made a mistake doesn’t mean the rest of us are incompetent as well.”
“I’m not saying you are incompetent,” Although you probably are. “But with the impact of negative perception on our roles, the guild wishes to ensure all its members are trained in the latest legal requirements. That’s why I’m here from Nishtal.”
I tried to keep my voice professional, but even that was a task considering the sheer number of… issues I’d seen with the Venlil Prime Exterminator’s guild. Nishtal had its fair share of Exterminators who weren’t quite fit for the uniform, but the Venlil seemed to attract entire herds of them; their general weak, skittish nature causing even those who wanted to be Exterminators to end up… subpar.
“We’re going to go through an example case, to discuss exactly what went wrong with the Tarlim case, and how to avoid it.”
I gave a stretch as I felt several parts of my spine pop and crack, complaining about the constant pressure placed upon the bones; The gravity never ended on Venlil Prime. My first time trying to fly had resulted in me immediately face planting into the ground. I pointed my wing towards the glass window and the patient beyond, the Venlil still remaining motionless on the reclined seating, making no movements as always, a blank expression on their face ears and tail.
“This is Tradiv, a 17-year-old male Venlil, reported by his brother for possible type C predator Disease, or a lack of a proper emotional response to predators and the herd. Two weeks ago, I applied an empathy test to Tradiv which came back positive. Who can tell me what was the first mistake made in the Tarlim situation, which we have avoided here?”
“You applied an empathy test, ma’am?”
I gave a sad sigh as a voice answered from the crowd. It really was that simple.
“Exactly. Dawn Creek failed so hard in this case, that they literally stumbled before takeoff.”
“But didn’t they apply a ‘Herd Standard’ test? Isn’t that enough?”
I turned to look at the new offending voice, an Officer Garvad who had just said the dumbest thing imaginable. I gave him a withering glare which caused the Venlil to shrink back.
“The ‘Herd Standard’ is not a method of diagnosing predator disease! To provide an example: Garvad, please answer yes or no to the following questions. Do you spend long periods of time not interacting with a herd?”
“No.”
“Work does not count, as that’s an enforced herd.”
“Well… yes, but I spend all my time-”
I interrupted him with a triumphant glee in my voice.
“They are yes or no questions. Do you find yourself often being treated differently from others in the herd?”
“Well I'm a known exterminator, so yes.”
“Yes or no Garvad. Lastly, do you spend your time near predators?”
“...I'm an Exterminator, what do you think!?”
I saw Garvad throw his paws up in frustration, tail darting around as I drove my point home. It was a flawed test, not designed for an official diagnosis.
“I'm afraid that according to the ‘Herd Standard’, you have predator disease, along with basically every Exterminator,” I said mockingly to a small smattering of nervous laughs as I made it quite clear I wasn't actually accusing him of having PD. “The ‘Herd Standard’ is a simple diagnostic tool for inexperienced lay people to use, such as a family member or teacher, to see if Exterminator follow up is required. The only way to properly diagnose Predator Disease is through an empathy test.”
At this point I motioned towards the monitor to my left, drawing people's attention to the results.
“Here, I applied a standard empathy test to Tradiv. Now, who can give an example when a non-standard test plan should be applied?”
I scanned the crowd, feeling a wave of relief as I spotted at least one raised paw from an Officer Taral. I motioned towards the young Venlil with my wing, prompting her to speak up.
“If the person being tested is an Exterminator?”
“Correct! Exterminators are expected to have a lower fear response to predators because of our work. A doctor may have a lower empathy and fear response to injured prey, or many other reasons the standard program will not be fit for an individual test subject. Always be on the lookout for external factors that might require using one of the five other programs.”
Feeling a little better that someone was able to provide at least some knowledge on how to be an Exterminator, I pushed onwards with my explanation.
“So this is the second empathy test applied to Tradiv, with the last being the prescribed test [2 weeks] before. The original test, as well as this latest one, both came back positive for type C predator disease. I technically have ran this test three times, as I assumed the original device was broken from its readings due to a lack of proper emotional response of any kind. This is one of the most severe cases of type C I’ve seen,” I paused for a moment as I saw a raised paw appear from the crowd. “Officer Bahten, You have a question?”
“Uhm, why bother with the second test? The first came back positive, he has predator disease.”
I felt my mood drop again, resisting the urge to sigh as the Exterminator asked about what should be standard knowledge.
There are no such thing as stupid questions, there are no such thing as stupid questions, there are no such thing as stupid questions…
“Who here applies a second empathy test before giving a diagnosis?”
Nothing. The room went completely silent as not a single paw or even tail was raised up. I felt an urge to start shouting at people for not following basic and clearly described procedures, a feeling I pushed down in order to teach these people better.
“OK, who here can provide a possible reason that a second empathy test is needed?”
More blank looks, a few tails moving slowly in confusion, causing me to hold my head in my wing for a moment.
By Inatala, how is ‘this’ the best this planet can muster for Exterminators?
“OK, there are three reasons why you do a second test. The first is to remove error. The device might be broken or might have been applied incorrectly to the patient. This can cause an inconsistent result. It's rare, but does happen.”
Sending false positives to a facility was just bad for everyone, the person themselves going through the false worry of having predator disease and wasting the facility’s time in processing then discharging a patient they didn't need.
“The second is a matter of consistency. Everyone has moments of anger or uncertainty, that in itself is not Predator Disease. The environment of an empathy test itself can cause these feelings. Fear while having a piece of technology strapped to your head, anger after being accused of having PD. A second test allows the subject to calm down and get used to the process. Remember, Predator Disease is a consistent deviation from the herd, not momentary.”
Like how seeing a sea of blank and bored faces clearly not understanding my teaching filled me with momentary rage.
You are exterminators, act like it!
“Lastly, it's your Inatala damned job!” Suddenly, the group collectively jumped and started paying more attention. “Two tests is the legal standard, and if a PD diagnosis is later deemed to be invalid, the Exterminator in charge could be held legally liable if you didn’t do this. You know, like what just happened with the Tarlim case.”
Finally, a few of them seemed to take notice. Hopefully the threat of financial and legal ruin was enough to get some of them to pay attention. I got the feeling that my next few years here on Venlil Prime were going to be very long, not just because of the gravity.
“So, we’ve correctly deduced that our subject has Predator Disease, what is the next step?”
Finally, the group seemed to become more sure of themselves, a few of the Venlil shouting out what they believed would be the next step as paws and tails were raised up to grab my attention.
“Put a behaviour control collar on them before they can hurt you!”
“Tranq dart them so they can’t taint you!”
“Stun them with a baton before they tear you apart!”
I looked on, horrified, at the suggestions the crowd were making, snippets of fear creeping into their voices as they treated the Venlil inside as if he was a rabid Arxur.
“No!” I responded, cutting off their suggestions “By Inatala’s talons, no! This guy has low level type C Predator Disease and has not been aggressive or combative in any way! We’re taking him for treatment for the long term sake of the herd, not because he’s an immediate danger.”
He hadn’t really been… anything. Getting any words out of the poor Venlil other than basic conversation had been impossible, like all the life had been pulled out of him. His fur was unkempt, and a slightly hefty weight suggested a complete lethargy as the Predator Disease taint did its work.
“Remember, we’re here to make them better. This person is a victim of a terrible disease. I’m going to go in there, explain his diagnosis calmly, organize transport to a facility, and let the latest in Federation medical knowledge make him better and ready to be reintegrated into the herd. It’s very simple.”
That was the important thing to remember: Most people with Predator Disease were just people who needed our help.
“There’s no need to be scared or to overcomplicate it. Everything is going to be fine.”
—-----------------------
Memory transcription subject: Joseph Adler, Head of research for the ‘Predatory Pest Control on Skalga’ project.
Date [standardized human time]: March 9th, 2137
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
The apartment was dark as I opened the door, the curtains closed and the lights off, creating a near pitch black void as I entered the abode. I stumbled for a moment, only the light shining from the hallway letting me see further inside. I could hear noises from inside the apartment, a Krakotl speaking softly, their words indiscernible from this position.
With confused and worried steps I moved deeper into the apartment, a settling feeling of unease filling my body as something about the area felt off. The sound of quiet Krakotl sobbing could be heard as I walked through the landing, an even deeper feeling of despair gripping my heart as I stood on something that only spelled bad tidings: A clump of bright blue feathers.
Estala has been pulling feathers again, that’s not good.
“Estala, you OK?”
I spoke softly, not wanting to startle the poor Exterminator in whatever mental state I was about to find her, every step closer allowing me to hear that the Krakotl’s voice was Estala’s, speaking about Predator Disease and how to diagnose it. The strangest part was she didn’t sound distraught, but neutral. And there was a hint of a digital tone that made me wonder if it was a recording.
Going to be honest, this is creepy as hell.
Eventually I came to the source of the noise and the person I expected to find: Estala, slumped in the corner, her upper torso lit up slightly as she watched something on her pad. That’s where her voice was coming from, a video I recognized watching a few months ago: some training thing Estala did, where she went over how to properly administer a Predator Disease test on some Venlil that was clearly suffering from extreme depression.
Of course, I’d seen all of these videos before, all of the speeches she’d given and media appearances she’d been through. I’d found and watched all of these soon after our second meeting. I wasn’t stupid, as soon as I’d realized the strange Krakotl was coming back to our meeting location in the forest, I’d searched for any mention of the Exterminator on the Federation internet. Better safe than sorry, lest I ended up turned to ash by some anti-human Federation-addled bird.
In retrospect, it was heartbreaking to hear Estala explain the fake pseudo-science that was Predator Disease, knowing that the well-meaning Krakotl Exterminator was sucked into lies and deception by generations of propaganda and fake science. Which led to the question: Why was Estala watching these?
“Estala, what are you doing?”
The Exterminator gave no response, her full attention clearly transfixed on the screen in front of her beak, while the younger Estala explained to the Venlil that the next step was for them to be placed within a facility. I didn’t want to think about what probably happened to that person, as like all things in the universe humanity had found themselves in, it probably wasn’t good.
Based on the feather pulling and gentle sobbing, I imagine Estala is punishing herself by reliving her old mistakes. The question is why?
Since she was so engrossed in her past self, still not noticing my presence, I instead fumbled around for a moment in the dimly lit living room until I found the light switch, banishing the dark in an instant. Estala gave an adorable squawk of surprise as she jumped from the intrusion, the pad in her wings going tumbling as she glanced around in shock and surprise, a look of guilt covering her features as she recognised me.
My feelings of worry about Estala's mental health were replaced with worry about her physical health. The Krakotl looked like someone had taken a baseball bat to their head, cuts and bruises adorning the avian’s face. Medical attention had been clearly applied, a fresh transparent cast replacing the old one, but I still reacted with concern.
“Jesus Christ Estala, are you OK!? What the hell happened!”
I found myself rushing to her aid, worried about her as I looked over the Krakotl’s injuries.
“I'm fine, it's nothing.”
“Nothing!? It doesn't look like nothing! Who did this to you? If it was a human we can contact the UN, they're really on top of this kind of thing.”
She seemed OK as I looked over her injuries, although I didn’t really know of the signs of a concussion on a Krakotl. Still, she seemed to have been seen by a medical professional, so was presumably OK.
“It wasn’t a human. It was a Venlil, and I deserved it.”
Ah, something must have happened. Self punishment through watching old videos, feather pulling, her general… demeanour. I hadn’t seen her in this much of a state since the first time she’d gone through the information on FederationColdCases. It was an unfortunate side effect of humanity removing the lies of the universe, so many people having their mental state and entire world view ripped away from them in an instant.
The poor little Exterminator needed calm words and an understanding person to speak to her right now. I gently brushed several misplaced feathers along the top of her head back into place, hoping to calm her down with a soft touch and soft voice.
“Whatever happened Estala, let’s just calm down, I’ll go get some mangos from the fridge, and we can discuss whatever happened. I’m certain you didn’t deserve to get hurt.”
“I deserved it. I deserved more.” There was a little moment of conviction in Estala’s words, before she looked up at me in a sad bird way, breaking my heart seeing her this distressed. “Why do humans keep trying with us? You must think we’re monsters, having spent generations hurting each other in ways you solved centuries ago. Why are you still here when you know what I’ve done?”
Of course, I knew what Estala had done. On the one hand, she was someone who had directly contributed to the ecological demise of at least 6 planets, was part of a system that sent the mentally ill to some kind of Victorian era asylum, and had actively supported and progressed an ideology that wanted to set me on fire. However, everything else I saw in Estala suggested she was a good person with a desire to protect and help others, trapped in a bad system created long before her birth.
“I’m here because I know you’re a good person. Come on, what happened, what’s caused all of this self hating all of a sudden.”
“I… I was investigating the heartbreak killer, and I met someone I had previously diagnosed with predator disease. I ruined his life, I destroyed who he was by sending him to that place. How can I be a ‘good person’ when I did that!?”
Ah. All of a sudden Estala’s behaviour made sense, her past actions catching up with her in the worst kind of way, leading to a spiral of self loathing. Part of me wanted to mention that she shouldn’t be investigating anything while on medical leave, but I quickly realized that this wasn’t the time.
“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known what you were doing at the time. All we can do is make the best of the information we have.”
“But I should have known!” Estala’s voice raised as he squawked out the exclamation, getting up to her feet in her objection. “I saw it with Dawn Creek, it was on my list of things to do, to ensure the other facilities weren’t the same! I just pushed the task back because I was busy, I should have investigated, I should have done better!”
Estala was… slightly right here, although I knew from experience that it wasn’t that simple. From what I understood the state of the Predator Disease facilities was an open secret, nobody was trying to hide what was happening, but nobody was looking either.
This was hardly anything new: Throughout history people had always avoided looking at how the sausage was made. Whether it was the conditions of the workers who made devices they used to access the internet, or the abusive way mass-produced factory farm animals had been treated before the invention of lab grown varieties, entire societies had accepted the tried and true method of not looking too closely at issues like this.
“I’m not going to lie and say it’s good. The entire universe is messed up, and that isn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for not changing an entire ingrained societal ideology on your own.”
“So what am I supposed to say to the guy I hurt!? ‘Whoops, my bad?’ He was fine when I first met him, and now he looks like a Sunbliss addict after what I did to him!”
I waited a few moments as the translator explained what Sunbliss was: Some kind of drug, containing… oh boy, nobody should be ingesting that. Still, I got the idea.
“You didn't do anything to him. A system created by authoritarian weirdos long before you were born, provided you with no choice in the matter. You can’t change what happened. Heck, often what happened doesn’t even have anyone at fault, an avalanche of bad decisions by hundreds of people causing a tragedy. All you can really do is learn from it, and make sure to do better in the future, a little bit at a time.”
“That’s easy for humans to say! You’ve already solved the problem!” I could hear the exacerbation in Estala’s voice as she got more agitated. “You’ve only just arrived and somehow have solved all these issues that we didn’t even know we had!”
“Well, humanity has had its issues as well, you-”
“I already know about the war the Farsul found.” Estala interrupted me, a look of despair on her face as she continued. “But that was over 200 years ago! I’ve read the UN data dump, about how all these issues of discrimination and ‘predator disease’ got fixed ages ago! Most of my time is dealing with people harassing humans for no reason and you people don’t do anything in return. Even Humanity First was created because we couldn’t stop treating you badly!”
I watched as Estala ran out of steam, slumping back over, defeated against the mountain of issues she was trying to fix. I could understand her point, it must be demoralizing to constantly interact with a humanity that didn’t have any of these Federation caused problems, that had seemingly fixed all their societal woes generations ago. That it was just so easy and that the only reason the ex-Federation hadn’t managed to do the same was a moral failing.
The problem was, that vision of humanity was a lie.
“That’s, that not true.” I started, gathering the courage to basically break international law … intergalactic law? In order to provide my friend with the context she so desperately needed. “What do you know about the UN Emergency Order 56?”
I saw Estala tilt her head with confusion “Isn’t that just ‘don’t talk about eating meat around any pathetic Federation species because they can’t handle something as simple as that?’”
“It’s a legal order to hide everything negative about humanity, including the problems we have internally. Everything you’re going through, we’ve been through as well, and are to some extent, still going through.” I take a moment to connect my pad to the Earth-based FTL communication, the standard legal warnings telling me that showing unauthorized material to humans could be a crime. “I’m going to show you some things to give you some contex about humanityt, but I need you to promise not to tell anyone. If anyone finds out I’m showing you this, I’m one hundred percent going to jail.”
The enforcement of Order 56 had lessened over the last few months: they’d stopped arresting people for turns of phrases or stating things most aliens already knew about. However, what I was about to show Estala was not within that category.
“Of course, I won’t tell anyone.”
I quickly navigated to the video I was looking for, handing it over to the Krakotl as I watched her expression drop. I knew what it was she was looking at: Victims of those who had been born to those on Rexopoletine, deformed with distorted bodies and limbs, misshapen skulls pressing on the brain and other facial organs.
“30 years ago, there was a new wonder drug that cured forms of blood cancer like leukaemia called Rexopoletine. It was considered a major breakthrough and was quickly taken up by the medical profession. Unfortunately it later turned out that all children sired by those who had taken the drug would be afflicted with what would later be called Rexopoletine syndrome: Incorrect bone development caused a variety of issues in children born to people who had used the drug. By the time the medical community realized what was happening, around fifty thousand people had effectively been sterilized by the treatement, with thousands of children already born with the condition.”
It was a major issue that was still legally and medically being dealt with today and had sparked the creation of many movies and documentaries about the practice. I could see the shock in the flared up feathers on Estala’s neck.
“Even worse, the creators knew before everyone else and didn’t tell anyone to make more money. That’s not the only medical care that ended up hurting people. The 21st century had the opioid crisis, and the 20th century had their own… issues. In 1949, the Nobel Prize in medicine was awarded for the new breakthrough procedure of lobotomy. Those who diagnosed and provided the treatments weren’t evil, they were people being tricked, or just ignorant of later science.”
“That’s… but that was still thirty years ago.”
I gave an even deeper sigh, taking the pad back and searching for the next video I was going to show. The sounds of fighting and shouting filled the air as I showed Estala the second clip. This one was newer, the sounds of a recent protest in Chicago back on Earth, which had resulted in an over the top response by police.
“This was the end result of a peaceful protest about a month ago, ironically about the authoritarian method in which Order 56 was implemented. Police, who are basically the human version of the Exterminators, overreacted in a way that’s not uncommon enough.”
“But that’s not what I’ve experienced, every human I’ve worked with has been nothing but professional, and all of the TV series you showed me…”
I could see the look of distrust and worry in the avian’s eyes, as I reached over to take the pad back.
“Because they aren’t sending your average investigator to work with you, and fictional TV is just that: fiction. The problem of Exterminator reform and overreach of powers… we know all about that, we still struggle with it, just under a different name.”
That was the real issue with Order 56. Either it was apparent that humanity was full of shit, or you ended up with the situation of an unfortunate Exterminator believing an unobtainable version of humanity was the real one. Slowly, I selected the last piece of media I needed to make my point. This one was bad, really bad, even though the video was censored enough for news channels it was still some of the worst humanity had to offer. An Extermination fleet ship had crashed into the Mongolian wilderness, and the local population had… responded.
“By Inatala, what the fuck?”
“It’s a human execution method called ‘crucifixion’. You nail a victim’s hands and feet to a raised cross, and this position causes asphyxiation as the shoulder blades push into the lungs due to gravity. We also found out that it doesn’t work on aliens because of differences in anatomy. There was a lot of that kind of thing going on after the battle for Earth that doesn’t get talked about.”
I finally took my pad back from Estala, who was looking a little sick now, having gone from self loathing to full on shock.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“To show you that we’re exactly like you. There’s no mythical human superiority that you’re failing to reach. There’s a reason we’re so horrified by what’s going on in the Federation: because we get it. The fact that the Tilfish used to eat their unborn young is so alien that it doesn’t register in my mind as a moral or immoral thing. But the problems you have: police overreach and brutality, medical treatments that cause more harm than good, hate and fear causing people to do terrible things. We understand those problems, because even today we still struggle with them.”
There was a moment’s pause as we both just sat there, wallowing in the amount of pain and suffering in the universe, a never ending cycle of mistake after mistake, until Estala finally spoke once more.
“If you people have dealt with all this, then how did any of you fix it? Or do anything to make up for the harm already done?”
“Well, we punish those who are responsible, which for the record isn’t you, but the shadow Kolshians or whoever that put these measures in place knowing the harm they created. And you make sure that those who were impacted get the treatment and resources needed to properly heal and move on from the harm. Sometimes it’s money to allow them to recover, medical support, or just simply an acknowledgement that what happened was wrong.”
That was the issue, wasn’t it? You couldn’t unharm someone, you can’t go back in time and never hurt the person in the first place. All you could do was try to make it better in whatever way you could, and to make sure it didn’t happen again.
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“Your best.” I responded simply, grabbing her wing and looking the Krakotl in the eyes as I spoke. “You can’t change what you’ve done, or anything in the past. You’re never going to be able to fix everything as it’s more work than a million good-natured people could handle, let alone just one sad Krakotl. All you can do is learn from it, move forwards, and hopefully next time you’ll make fewer mistakes, making the world a little better than it was before. Can you do that for me, Estala?”
I gave her a soft smile as eventually the little Krakotl gave a small nod.
“I guess I can.”