Memory transcription subject: Ambassador Tarva of the Venlil Republic
Date [standardized human time]: March 24, 2137
The first meeting of the Sapient Coalition was in the past, but now more than ever, my sights were set on the future. Humanity’s assortment of allies had been very receptive to the idea of fixing the Venlil’s hindrances, since in our case, it had nothing to do with us not being herbivores—it was about us not being meek, deformed herbivores that followed the Federation’s guidance. Noah and I returned to Skalga with a new lease on life; a week from today’s date, I was set to be the first Venlil to have my gene tampering reversed. It would be televised through a press conference, which Governor Veln insisted on being a part of for optics. My summons to the governor’s mansion had mainly been to brief our leader on what happened during the convention, but Veln saved the topic of today’s referendum for last.
Veln flicked his ears placidly. “Thank you both for coming to fill me in. I made sure to expedite a planetwide vote on the planet’s name, as promised; I’ll abide by the results, regardless of my distaste for Skalga. I’d also prefer not to keep Venlil Prime around, so the options were ‘Skalga’ versus ‘Other or Stay the Same.’”
“It’ll be wonderful to shed another part of the Federation’s influence. That was our point of mutual agreement,” I replied. “I was planning on submitting my vote online, as soon as we’re done here.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long. Noah, I can see your feet blatantly pointing toward the door. A sign of where you wish to be?”
The astronaut grimaced. “Do I have to answer that?”
“No, but may I remind you, I didn’t ask you to come. When Tarva brought you, I let you tag along as a sign of goodwill toward your people. I’d say I’d prefer to talk to my SC ambassador without a foreign government’s agent in the room, but I imagine she’ll tell you everything anyway.”
“For your information, I can keep my work separate, especially when Venlil interests are involved,” I hissed. “Noah wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t meant for UN ears, though; he’s honorable.”
A dark emotion flickered in Veln’s pupils, and he hesitated. “I must ask, how in the stars did you keep the humans at bay, Tarva? Insight would be…accepted from Noah, at this point. They have…ways of being persuasive, by coercing people to do what they want. Trapping you with your own words, finding every loophole and technicality in the law. Is that why you went along with everything they said? Was I wrong about your motives?”
“That doesn’t sound anything like the Terrans.”
“Oh, that sounds everything like us, love,” Noah growled, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Our diplomats are quite skilled at protecting our interests.”
“I understand what you’re capable of, and what you…can do when threatened. But contrary to what Veln thinks, we disagreed on plenty. I never felt pressured to do anything I didn’t want to.”
“Because you care about us, and we care about you. Everyone at the UN knew you had humanity’s back, so we had yours. We knew you wanted what was best for us, for Venlil, and for the entire galaxy; that was the one issue we had to agree on. It’s really that simple. Veln over there wants to play hardball and trade favors, so he’s asking for an entirely different relationship between us.”
The governor narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying not to ice humanity out. Venlil are my top priority, but I don’t mean any active harm to you!”
“If you watch out for the Venlil first, then the UN will elevate human interests above yours. Tarva considered us as much as Venlil, just as we considered you on the same level as us. It’s up to you what relationship you want with Earth, Veln, but the way you’re operating now won’t merit true brotherhood. We are fiercely loyal, but we also give what we get. I think you know that’s fair.”
“What I know is that I want us to be independent, and I don’t want anything dictated to us from outside our borders! It’s not personal, it’s just business.”
I stood from my chair, grabbing Noah’s hand. “It was always personal to me and them. Humans are sweet, but they’re not pushovers. What you told them was you didn’t want your talks to be personal, so they’ve taken emotion out of their decisions. It is just business now: I don’t see the issue?”
“The problem is their tactics are downright predatory, Tarva! They’re ruthless and manipulative!”
“Then you’re perfect for each other. And Veln, don’t ask my advice unless you want to know how to start treating the Terrans as friends again. Like I said, their welfare is personal to me. Let’s go, Noah.”
My human was trying not to laugh at the outraged look on the governor’s face; I suppose it could be viewed as audacity, that I’d spoken to Veln in that manner, but ousting me as ambassador would sour his political points. There was some curiosity in my mind about what humanity had done that the shifty Venlil found predatory. Still, it was enough to know that the United Nations was well-equipped to handle his self-centered schemes. I had noticed some major modifications on the visor law released to the public. My mind also harkened back to how Elias Meier had warned me about certain elements of his own government being “snakes in the grass”, which Noah agreed with.
Governor Veln invited out a side of humanity they’d been keeping away from us. With legislation being targeted at their species, it’s self-defense.
Noah allowed himself to smirk, once we reached our vehicle. “It was funny, but I’d advise not antagonizing Veln going forward. You’re not going to be able to get any favors from him, if you make an enemy of him.”
“You haven’t exactly welcomed Veln with open arms, and you made sure he knew you can’t stand him,” I protested.
“I was never that forthright, Tarva. You basically called him predatory; I’m pretty sure that’s the worst insult in your culture.”
“Only after Veln used it against humanity. That Venlil should not think himself above you.”
“I know, but I know how important it is to you to have breathing room with the Sapient Coalition. You don’t want Veln to put you on a short leash—uh, forgive the predatory metaphor.”
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
I flicked my ears in acknowledgement, digesting his point. Governor Veln had been willing to take some of my ideas under advisement, and he’d thrown his full support behind certain initiatives that mattered to me. The gene edit reversal and the Skalga referendum were genuine positives that’d sprouted from his rule, while there was little to gain from turning my successor into an enemy. Noah watched with curious eyes as I pulled out my holopad, eager to see our voting process in action. I completed a double retinal scan, authenticated my conscious decision to vote through a code sent to my email, and scanned my ID card in front of the camera. The two options—Skalga and Other/Stay the Same—showed as buttons in large font.
I tapped Skalga, clicked a checkbox to confirm my choice, and submitted the ballot after pressing “Yes” when asked if I intended to pass along the results. Noah smiled as I snuggled up to him, before prying the holopad from my grasp. The predator searched up the exit polls, and his teeth flashed vibrantly as he turned the screen around to face me. Overwhelming public sentiment was in favor of retaking our ancestral name, with over 75% of those surveyed being “Skalga” supporters. Veln’s attempts to dissuade the populace from bringing back the name the Federation stole from us failed. Though it wasn’t a certain guarantee, it gave me the assurance that one of my initiatives had been taken to heart.
Our child is going to grow up on Skalga, able to run, jump, and smell. They’ll be free of the instincts that have held us back too, if I have my way.
Noah’s eyes fluttered over to me. “What do you say, before the SC meeting next week, we finally take that vacation to Earth? We haven’t been able to go through with it for so long.”
“I’d love to see where you grew up. After all, I want to make sure our child is familiar with Earth; we’ll be spending plenty of time on human soil, as a family,” I purred.
“You’re really excited about that…step, aren’t you? I’ve been thinking about it too. Settling down and having kids just wasn’t ever in the cards for me. Exploring the universe was my calling, and that ruled out what might’ve been. The fact that we found extraterrestrials: it was like reaching the finish line of a race I thought I just started! It was the culmination of my dreams.”
“If you’re not excited about the idea of children, Noah, you don’t have to pretend for me. It’s okay. Your feelings are important too, and I don’t want you to be unhappy in silence out of kindness.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to say. I’m just explaining that it’s the first time I thought about this, and I have no idea what to do raising a kid—a kid from a different species, no less. You, meanwhile, have experience with parenting and have ideas about how you want to raise the little fella; I’m not sure I can contribute or be as prepared for it as you. It’s a huge responsibility, and the more I think about it, the more I know it.”
“You’re overwhelmed by the prospect.”
“Well, yeah. I had an amazing dad, and I want to be just like him. I’m not worried that I have the wrong temperament or anything, but I don’t want to undersell the work and commitment it’ll take from us both. The fact that it’ll be a massive undertaking as is…it’s why I’m worried to suggest the idea I can’t get out of my head.”
“Breathe. We’re going to figure out what’s best for us both, and it’ll be okay. What’s your idea?”
“It might be too much to ask. I don’t want to spoil your vision.”
“Noah, I sprung on you that I’m getting experimental gene mods and looking to have a kid with zero warning. I think we’ve already crossed ‘too much to ask.’”
The human’s hands were trembling from nerves, and I gently coiled my tail around his wrist to calm him down. Our conversation back at the Sapient Coalition meeting had been harrowing from my side, so if Noah was addressing a topic of that magnitude for our personal lives, I could understand his apprehension. He was worried about putting our relationship on the rocks or scaring me off. I gently cupped his chin with my paw, giving him my best look of affection. Whatever change he felt compelled to suggest to our plans, I was willing to listen. Both of us were from different cultures and lives, so we could handle opinion schisms in a mature way.
Maybe Noah’s not ready for the responsibility quite yet; he sounds stressed. We’re not getting younger, but I could wait a few years if it’ll make it more palatable for him to ease into. I want to do this together.
The astronaut drew a shaky breath. “Obviously, I’m not capable of giving birth, but…what if we adopted a human child?”
“Oh.” My voice came out flat, as I tried to keep my emotions from spilling over. The thought of splitting up with Noah cut me like a knife, but a difference in interests that severe would be difficult to overcome. “I…understand if raising a Venlil is not right for you, but the entire reason I wanted this was about having a child that can live the life I’ll never have. I can’t give that up, even for you.”
“No! I’m not saying not to have the Venlil child, at all; I’m sorry for being unclear. I’m talking about raising a human child, alongside our little fluffball—raising them together. It’s an added responsibility, I know, but I found the idea really…beautiful. A family that bridges the species gap.”
It was my turn to be taken off-guard by Noah’s suggestion toward our plans, though I didn’t feel averse to the idea. I could imagine a little primate and a tiny Venlil running around in the park, laughing as one big family. Of course, I had no idea what was needed to raise a human, but I supposed that put me in the same boat as my partner; he was clueless what went into rearing one of my species’ younglings. Having helpless sapients that were dependent on us to survive would mean we could learn about the other’s kind at a fundamental level. Calling a predator my own child, caring and loving them just as my astronaut would love a Venlil, felt right. It was a daunting challenge for us both, yet I couldn’t agree with the heartwarming idea fast enough.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Noah,” I replied. “Raising a human and a Venlil alongside each other, as siblings? I’ll love our little Earthborn…I don’t think I can call them a ‘goober.’ Can you suggest an adorable nickname?”
The Terran’s pearly fangs showed with a radiant smile. “You could call them a goober. But why go for that when you can say, ‘Our little vicious predator?’”
“Ah, yes. Humanity, the vicious species whose first contact with the Zurulians…was the visiting ambassador curling up on a human diplomat’s shoe.”
“A human diplomat’s vicious shoe.”
“How can a shoe be vicious?”
“I’m sure the Federation would drum up some evil intentions we have with our foot coverings. Obviously, we use it to harden our feet to kick prey animals, like this.” Noah lightly batted his shoe against my ankle, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Wait, I actually heard a story back at the embassy about someone throwing a shoe at a receptionist to distract security at a UN base. I don’t know how true that was.”
“You could’ve stopped with the first part, but you just have to correct your words, don’t you?”
“Accuracy is important. Science doesn’t mess around with truth, my love. I wouldn’t want anyone to say I omit unflattering aspects of the truth; I value my integrity.”
“I value your integrity, and everything else about you, Noah Williams. You’re the person who completes me, who gets me, and makes me feel like I am free to be happy again. I’m so glad the universe crossed our paths; I love you with all my heart.”
The human’s binocular eyes fixed on me with intense focus. “I love you too. Now, forever, and always. I’ll love you to the heat death of the universe.”
I rested my head against the predator’s sturdy chest, exhaling with contentment. All I’d hoped for in recent months was a peaceful future between us and humanity. While I couldn’t work as fervently toward that on the political stage, events in my personal life could align toward that sincere goal. My passion could also be devoted to returning the Venlil to our roots, and finding out what we were without the Federation. The referendum looked like a lock to return our name to Skalga, which meant the public was on the same page. Maybe after Noah and I paved the way for a post-gene reversal life, others would follow.
For the first time since my daughter’s death, I felt that the best days of my personal life were ahead. Humanity’s arrival was what gave me the chance to have a family again, freeing me from my ignorance and opening new doors into the future. I was grateful to have a partner who’d invested himself in my dreams, and morphed them into a joint effort that could give us a unique, wonderful opportunity. There was no telling what came next for us, but I was excited to see where the journey would lead.