Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic
Date [standardized human time]: March 7, 2137
With election day drawing closer, the final debate could be crucial to winning over undecided voters; the polls were neck-and-neck. Veln was savvy with the mass appeal items on his docket, and I trusted that he would maintain his suave demeanor on stage before a live audience. While, at least before the arrival of humanity, I’d been regarded as personable, this venue would be playing into my opponent’s forte. It was one thing to deliver organized speeches that Cheln curated, but no matter how much I rehearsed for expected questions, off-the-cuff replies and the head-to-head format of a debate weren’t my strengths. So much was at stake for the fate of Skalga, so I needed to put on the best performance of my life.
Venlil debates were usually simple affairs, with a few minutes devoted to back-and-forths on each policy issue. However, with the human and Federation issues at the crux of the debate, Veln and I struck a mutual accord to devote the entire first half of the schedule to those topics. The other issues could be condensed, as this point was the true schism of this election. I knew how contentious our membership in the Sapient Coalition, and our close ties with Earth were; for would-be voters, everything else was unimportant compared to the millions of predators living among us. For the primates who’d been granted citizenship, attempts to have courts block their voting privileges had mixed success, from one jurisdiction to another. In this cycle, I couldn’t rely on the Terran vote saving me.
I steadied my paws on the podium, and gazed out at the assembled crowd. Most non-pundit attendees were Venlil, though I could see a masked Noah sitting all the way at the back for moral support. The human noticed me looking at him, and raised a single thumb in a gesture I assumed was encouraging. I gave the slightest tail swish back, wishing I understood all of the Terrans’ non-verbal cues. Their communication was so unique compared to other species, but they were expressive and animated if one knew what to look for.
This debate is nothing compared to Noah’s speech on Aafa; I have no right to be this nerve-wracked, when he was so brave with rifles trained on his face, trapped on a hostile world. If I can’t sell Skalga on my love for humanity, I don’t deserve to win.
Veln, as the challenger, mounted the stage second, relishing the crowd’s cheers beneath a façade of modest, dismissive tail waves. His slate gray fur was perfectly smoothed out on his chest, while his tail had been puffed out for a regal appearance. His ears wiggled with enthusiasm, as he offered the audience a sweeping tail swish. My opponent wandered away from the podium, leaning down toward the first row to wave to a particularly-enthusiastic supporter. When I took the stage, my reception had been more mixed and tepid; my supporters were more the “stay the course” types than the gamechangers. Those who were against me, despised me—and hatred was something Veln could weaponize into passion for himself.
“Hello!” Veln said into the microphone, clearly studying me with a direct, side-on gaze. I’d kept my impassive composure, and swiveled an ear toward my rival with politeness. “It’s an honor to have this opportunity to discuss my ideas in a comparative format with Governor Tarva. I do hope that we’ll have an excellent, enlightening discourse!”
I flicked my ear in acknowledgment. “Likewise, I look forward to engaging with the pressing issues of our time. I believe that the candidate with the best ideas will rise in this format, and I’m grateful that so many of the voters are listening to what we each have to say tonight. Major decisions for the future of our society are at paw.”
The Venlil moderator, a journalist named Jonek, straightened his notecards. “Now that the candidates are both here, let’s launch into the issue on everyone’s minds: humanity. Tarva, as the defending governor, you open this segment; thirty seconds for your reply. Why do you believe that your friendly policies toward Earth are ideal for Venlil society?”
“That’s an important question, Jonek,” I said, adding in a practiced pause. “We’ve seen the worst of what is out in the stars. The Arxur. The Federation, who’ve hidden their atrocities for centuries. Humanity came seeking genuine friendship, and have defended us on multiple occasions, at the cost of many of their own. We would never have known what was done to us, never have woken up to our own manipulation without the so-called predators. Now more than ever, us Venlil need true allies and comrades, because how can we afford to be alone with so many threats out there?”
The crowd seemed pleased with my reply, issuing a few whistles of agreement. Noah mashed his meaty hands together, and gave the thumbs-up gesture again. I tried not to focus on the human for too long, not wanting to be caught staring at him on live television. With the first question done, I could feel myself begin to lighten up on the anxiety. Veln waited for the audience’s response to cool off, before leaning toward the microphone. Moderator Jonek gave him the ear flick to go ahead with his thirty second rebuttal.
Veln pointedly trained both his pupils on me. “That’s a wonderful set of lines, Governor, but it’s not indicative of reality. If we need to entangle our society with humanity, and their values, to attain their friendship, then they are just as bad as the Federation. We have known them for the sum of a few months, so I would not bet the direction of the Venlil people on such a small sample size, and such limited knowledge. Terrans are not one entity with us, and we are not responsible for saving them. Under my leadership, we would seek more separation from the Earthlings, for the sake of our autonomy.
If I might add one more thing that doesn’t add up? If you recognize the threat of the Federation, why have you placed us into a new one with many of their former members? We don’t need to be beholden to anyone who wishes to determine our future and our choices for us. My slogan is very simple: No More Federations!”
I waited for his round of cheers to die down, signing “argue” in tail language to tell Jonek I wished for a counter-rebuttal. “Let me impart some thoughts of my own on ‘reality.’ The reality is, right now, we can’t defend ourselves from the Federation on our own. My platform focuses on building up our military so that we can stand on our own, without leaving ourselves vulnerable to outside attacks. I lost my daughter to a raid, as the Arxur bombed schools—targeted children. I saw how furious that made the Terrans, so I know enough about them, even in this short time, to know that they’ll stand fast beside us.
Veln, how do you expect the Venlil to stand a fighting chance, alone? You think the Federation will just let us leave, or do you imagine they’ll seize on our vulnerability to snuff us out and send a message to humanity. They’ll do anything to get back anyone who helped the predators, or is important to them. We have no choice but to stick together; that’s what the herd is for!”
Veln’s ears straightened, sensing his chance to reply. “Since you asked, I don’t think that asking others to solve our problems is the answer. Humans have a fundamentally different culture to us. I’m not proposing to fully go it alone; I’m proposing to be more responsible with the alliances and commitments we get ourselves into. Who out there helps carry the burden of predator refugees, or has had their child exposed to the sight of carcass food? We shouldn’t accept this on Venlil Prime. A strategic alliance is fine, because Terrans are excellent at fighting, but we don’t need to be joined at the hip—something I imagine you and Ambassador Noah know about.”
“What is that supposed to mean?! Campaigning by starting unfounded rumors: it’s unbecoming of someone who wants to lead an entire planet.”
“Ah, I don’t mean to insinuate anything, but you two spend a lot of time together outside typical work hours. I’ve seen him at the governor’s mansion in a month more than any other species’ ambassador visits in a year. Extraordinary circumstances, I know, but I think your judgment might be clouded. It’s a conflict of interests if you’re elevating human interests so highly, compared to Venlil priorities. Should I elaborate more? I want to make sure nothing is misconstrued, of course.”
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“I care deeply for Ambassador Noah, but I’m shocked that you would weaponize my empathy for how much he’s endured, as the face of humanity, into a negative attribute. We’ve been through many stressful situations together, from nearly getting shot down en route to Aafa, to our efforts to stop the genocide of Earth, to working hand-in-paw with the cattle rescues that my government and his bargained for the release of, and now to our collaboration for the Summit! It’s brought us both into a special and cherished bond, and I won’t let you shame me for it.”
Veln lashed his tail with smug satisfaction. “I’m only suggesting the people have a right to know about any special bonds. You make decisions for all of us. The citizenry should be certain who you’d protect, if it came to us or them, and that certainty should be beyond a shadow of a doubt. I know I’d fight for our own. Regardless, I don’t want to stall on this topic, moderator, so shall we move on?”
It was all I could do to conceal how much I was fuming on the inside; it was a clever way to lob a personal attack at me, and one that was difficult to defend. I was well-aware that the strongest criticisms against me were that humanity was pulling the strings on my agenda. Ever since I shut down the predator disease facilities on Terran urgings, my dissidents claimed that I wouldn’t stand up to them. While I had a refutation prepared for that specific line, going after my ties to Noah wasn’t an attack I wanted Veln to expand upon. Defending myself against a valid accusation left me with few options.
I’m not ashamed of how close I am with Noah, but what would happen if that got into the media? Glim, for one, was outright told we’re together; I’m lucky he’s working with me as a campaign advisor, or he could give Veln a juicy scoop. That rescue has been dispirited since fainting before Isif at the Summit.
Jonek read the second question on his card. “Veln. You’ve learned about the gene editing the Farsul forced on our ancestors, yet you’ve been outspoken against Tarva’s proposals for a voluntary instinct suppression program, and for returning Venlil Prime’s name to Skalga through a referendum. Why are you against these options for returning our planet to its natural state?”
“First off, the Governor and I agree on reversing the gene edits. It’ll be a priority in either agenda, so let’s set that part aside,” Veln began. “Now, I find that Tarva rushes into drastic changes with haste. Slanek was the first subject of a program like what she proposes, and he became a violent assassin! We don’t understand the consequences of the psychological changes we’re making to ourselves, so we should take the time to do so—especially before we raise the government’s spending even further.
The programs formed since first contact have tanked our economy, and have been a massive drain on our system and resources. I love the idea of saving the cattle rescues, but the fiscal mismanagement—we don’t have infinite money. It comes from somewhere, just like the instinct program would. Now, I know I’m over my time, so let me be quick on why I don’t want ‘Skalga.’
I don’t like the name ‘World of Death.’ We can do better.”
As laughs rippled through the crowd, I donned the look of a mother who wasn’t amused by a child’s shenanigans. “I sure hope you don’t make all your decisions based on whether you personally like, or dislike, something, Veln. The choice of whether the citizens like the name Skalga should be left up to the people themselves, not just forbidden by your decree. As our moderator pointed out, the instincts program is also voluntary. I dream of a future where we’re strong, not weak like the Federation claims, but my entire platform is about choice.
Slanek was an incident caused by military training and prolonged exposure to the horrors of war; I want my people to not live in artificial fear. It won’t cost the average citizen a credit, because it’s taken from bloated exterminator budgets and the power bills of electroshock machines. That is wasteful spending which could go to improving and saving lives. Before you cut me off, Veln, since you can’t conform to the time constraints, allow me to tack on a little extra too.
The loyal members of the exterminators’ guild want accountability for their actions. They want a better understanding of predator attacks, and real predator disease, to limit violence on the streets. They want people who abuse their title ousted, so that they can maintain a true force that protects people. If there’s science that can keep them well-informed on animal threats, and ways for them to be safer and not damage property on missions—”
“You’re well over your allotted time, Tarva,” Jonek interjected.
“Exterminators want those improvements, because they want to make their planet proud,” I spewed hastily.
Veln pinned his ears back with disbelief. “The guild devoted to fighting predators doesn’t support you, Tarva. Let’s not waste time pretending they do. You’ve shoved humans down their throats, while allowing them to be mocked, and by your own admission, you slashed their budgets. The money they need to defend us and themselves. Those are heroes, and I’m not ashamed to say it. But you wouldn’t say those words, because behind your pandering, you question everything they do.
Humans matter more to you than exterminators ever have. You basically said so in your own words. The guild’s budget is not wasteful spending, because their job is about improving and saving lives. I won’t let them apologize for burning creatures that’d threaten and eat our children! Furthermore, I’ll give them every credit they ask for, and I’ll talk about raising their salaries for the thankless work they do.
Save your cheers; I’m not done! It’s funny how you condemn predator disease treatments, and leave us impotent to defend against ‘predator attacks.’ We learned that predator disease was more prevalent than ever, with those twisted Venlil who live among us, and conceal conniving, predatory minds. We knew they were dangerous, but we didn’t know they struck so often. How can you see that evidence, and close the facilities? Do you—”
Jonek cleared his throat. “Veln, you’re also past your time.”
“Don’t worry. The question’s to Tarva,” my opponent countered. “Do you really think that talking about your feelings can make these monsters herd safe?”
“If the treatments made Venlil safe before, why were there so many attacks?” I shot back. “The methods we have now are clearly, by the evidence, unreliable for detecting threats. Look at the distress for family members, who’ve had a harmless loved one hauled away and tortured for being different—when the real murderers roamed free. Why would we ever want that to continue?”
“Because our search isn’t thorough enough. I don’t buy into your argument of humans being predators, so they can identify predator behavior. In the next breath, you tell us they’re friendly and innocent, not at all like predators are! The reality is, and I don’t say this out of dislike for Terrans, but asking predators to identify dangerous predatory behavior is like asking us to qualify what’s extreme prey behavior. Their boundaries are much looser than ours.”
“Our boundaries of acceptable behavior are engineered by the Federation. That’s the difference. Humans are civilized people who haven’t been told how to think. They have a better idea than we do of what’s actually predator behavior, and what was just an instrument of Kolshian-Farsul control. Every part of our society was engineered so that the conspirators could keep us subservient and mock us. Veln, I don’t want to listen to a single word those cripplers said, especially when innocent lives are involved. This planet deserves a leader who doesn’t buy into those centuries-old lies.”
Judging by the crowd’s enthusiastic cheers, I’d come out ahead in that exchange; resenting the Federation's lies was a convincing reason to overhaul every tenet of the system. It was clear after what we learned the Farsul did to our ancestors that nothing they forced on us had good intentions. Predator disease was their creation to stop us from resisting, and I was certain enough of the populace could see that. My opponent likely agreed with my logic deep down, though he had to be contrarian to demonstrate his opposition to radical change. Veln seemed to be weighing whether to concede that argument, and move on to a different topic. However, it was a moot point, as Jonek jumped in.
“That was certainly a spirited exchange, but that is all the time we have available for human and Federation-focused topics,” the moderator said. “We’ll take a short break, and move on to the other issues on your ticket: including infrastructure, schools, and tax policies. Stay tuned!”
I relaxed as the cameras switched off, and studied my opponent out of my periphery. In this crucial debate, it was a good sign that Veln wasn’t walking all over me; I was pleased with how I’d stood up for my actions and beliefs. My gaze turned outward, past the various Venlil spectators who chatted among themselves. The human ambassador lifted his mask for a brief second, when my eyes reached him; his pearly teeth flashed all the way from the back of the auditorium. Noah quietly clapped, ducking his head as a commendation. His approval filled me with confidence; if the silver-tongued predator believed in what I was saying, my words must be enough to resonate with others.
The question now was whether this final appeal to the Venlil citizenry would carry me to reelection.