Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: March 16, 2160
There were several stares from unmasked passersby cast upon us, as concealed medics toted Gress to an isolated room. There were even a few cheers from miners who were happy, seeing the scaly alien knocked out. I’d allowed the stretcher to ferry me to the bottom of the elevator, before pushing my way off the platform. Doctor Adebayo was waiting alongside Mayor Hathaway, with both sporting full cloth masks to hide their features, in case the Krev awoke. I could sense the mayor’s immediate withering glare, as he saw me pushing my way into the room, desperate to correct my blackout moment. My head ducked with shame, as I tried to focus on the physician feeling the Krev’s neck vertebrae.
“Well, the good news is that Taylor didn’t get much power on the swing, and didn’t hit anything critical. Drew a bit of blue blood here, but for a minor head injury, I expect Gress to awaken a few minutes after the blow. So, soon,” Doctor Adebayo commented. “I’ll let you handle the fallout, but don’t be too hard on your buddy. He’s concussed. His judgment is impaired.”
I crossed my arms. “That’s the least concussed thing I’ve done all day! I’ve wanted to do that for so long. He was kicking us off of our own planet!”
“I’m going to see myself out. I have other patients to tend to. Make sure security keeps prying eyes out.”
Mayor Hathaway tapped at his mask, waiting for the doctor to leave. “Goddammit, Taylor. After everything I’ve told you about what it’s like to have an entire alien race come down on your head, you go do something like this?! This is your fault, not controlling yourself when there’s things much bigger than you at stake. I trusted you not to fuck us!”
“I’m sorry, sir. Gress wasn’t listening, and he was being totally unreasonable, and I just…I lost it,” I whispered. “Maybe I can talk him into letting it go?”
“You’re done talking to anyone! We both agreed our militia couldn’t fight off a paintball team, but now, these aliens will come looking for revenge. What happens when Gress doesn’t return? What happens if we do let him go back? We, humanity, have to start leaving, right now. You’ve basically forced me to hold this guy prisoner, in the hopes that we can negotiate something that doesn’t involve us all being killed, should they come knocking.”
“I don’t think we should hold him hostage, sir. That’ll just worsen the situation.”
“I don’t want advice from you. Get out! Get the fuck out!”
Cherise raised a finger. “Hold on. I think Taylor should stay. Gress knows who swung at him, and if there’s any chance we can fix this, it’d be by his aggressor apologizing…us showing we’ll hold him accountable. The Krev does know that Taylor has a head injury, so maybe it will be understandable that he wasn’t thinking straight?”
“You want me to hand Taylor over as a sacrificial lamb? I can’t do that, because then, Gress takes off his mask and sees what we are!”
“We can hold Taylor to our own justice, locking him up and proving it: through an ankle monitor, or something? That’s only if it comes to it. Do you have a better plan than just starting out with Taylor begging for forgiveness? Because I don’t.”
The mayor sighed. “No. I don’t have a clue what to do now. I swear to God, Trench, if you do anything else that fucks us over, I’ll have you executed. You will stay and kiss up to this Krev, whatever it takes, and I don’t care if it humiliates you. Our species dies if we get into it with these guys. We’ve been hiding ourselves for so long for a reason.”
“I’ll do my best to fix this. If…if it’ll appease Gress, I know you can’t hand me over, but I understand if, maybe, you can cut off my fingers…or execute me. I deserve some form of punishment, no matter how brutal, for what I’ve cost humanity,” I murmured. “That would show how seriously you take my offense.”
“We’re not doing that! Beyond how repugnant that would be, it also would make us look like violent, sadistic predators more than your assault already did. Gress will be waking up any minute, and I won’t be hearing any more of you trying to lay yourself out on the train tracks. I’m pissed at you, but I don’t want you dead, you fuckwit. Just shut up until you’re needed to show some damn remorse.”
“I will.”
Cherise turned her face to address Hathaway. “Sir, we have a problem. I’m seeing an ongoing broadcast on my holopad. Someone in my department’s tapped into this room’s security feeds, and is sharing them with the entire city. They want everyone to see what we’re asking the Krev.”
“We don’t have time to move him! We don’t need to be airing our dirty laundry in front of the whole group.”
“For what it’s worth, maybe we should try to get some answers from Gress, about who they are. After all the prying the Krev have done into us, it would be fitting.”
“I’ll…see what he has to say. Believe me, it’s really fucking hard to protect humanity from aliens we know nothing about! We’re trying to fix this, and to keep people safe.”
“We’ve kept them safe, and failed to keep them happy,” I sighed, earning nasty looks—I could sense them through the masks. “I know I’m not happy. Life at one percent.”
Cherise clenched her fist. “Taylor? Shut the fuck up.”
I performed a sarcastic salute, and stewed in my own self-hatred. The silence between our posse was painful, as I could feel my friends’ fury at me emanating into my bones. I tried to focus on what I could do to fix the situation, which I bore the full responsibility for. The Krev was laid out helpless in the operating chair, to be surrounded by the three of us for when he came to; I was hopeful that it was, in fact, a minor injury that I’d inflicted. As much of a failure to humanity as I was, I wasn’t a murderer—or someone that took joy in maiming a living creature. Just as the doctor suggested, Gress’ eyes blinked open in a daze, before his features took on a startled expression.
Gress didn’t expect me to attack him, or he would’ve never turned his back. He believed we’d just leave without any fight. Now, I can see it in his eyes; he’s afraid of us. Perhaps he already suspects humans are predators?
The Krev’s nostrils twitched with anxiety. “Hey, um, I can see that tempers flared. You don’t have to do this. Just let me go, and we can all forget this ever happened. You don’t want to do this; you can empathize with family, right? I have a child back home, who needs me in her life. I’m supposed to have custody of her this weekend, and she has a dance performance; her name’s Lecca. I love her with all my heart, and I want to get back to her. Please.”
“You try to pull on our heartstrings, when you couldn’t show any empathy for us?” I spat.
Cherise cracked her knuckles. “Taylor, shut the fuck up, or I’ll make you shut up.”
“Taylor Trench was in an accident, and his head injury seems to have made him prone to outbursts. Please forgive his aggression,” Hathaway said. “We don’t want any bad blood between our people, and it wasn’t the will of this polity for you to be uncivilly assaulted.”
Gress’ eyes narrowed. “Head injury or not, let him speak. It’s what he really thinks, isn’t it? Let him say what’s on his mind.”
“I think dozens of people wouldn’t have been hurt or killed, if you hadn’t pushed us to fork over a quantity that was well beyond what was reasonably due. You were just waiting for any opportunity to kick us out,” I growled.
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“Of course we were, but that doesn’t mean we wanted for anyone to get hurt! You abused our empathy to let you land in the first place, because we couldn’t bear to play a part in people dying: even people like you. We wouldn’t let anyone starve in space.”
“People like us?” Mayor Hathaway stiffened, as Cherise and I recoiled in shock; all three of us had immediate concerns that the Krev did, in fact, realize that we were predators. “What does that mean?”
“Forget I said anything.”
“Nah, we heard you loud and clear. How exactly is it ‘empathy’ to rake us over the coals with the fees you charge?” I prompted.
Gress’ narrow tongue poked out of his mouth in thought. “Those fees were intended to get you to leave of your own free will, because we didn’t want to fight with you. We didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. This has been an ongoing arrangement for years, when it was always meant to be temporary; I’d say your group of colonists have sufficient resources to move on. It is our planet, and we weren’t going to let you have it for nothing.”
“We know you were looking for any excuse to kick us out. That doesn’t surprise us,” Hathaway sighed. “The question is what you mean by people like us?”
Cherise nodded. “That rhetoric is quite charged from aliens who were happy to profit off of us, and take advantage of our desperation.”
“Your desperation? That’s fucking ridiculous,” Gress grumbled. “You always want to take more from others. It’s never enough with you! We just want you to leave us alone.”
“What is it you think you know about us? Tell us what the fuck you mean.”
Righteous anger was shining in the Krev’s eyes, as if he believed his species had a legitimate grievance with us; that was an emotion I’d seen in the miners’ eyes. There was some trepidation swelling in my heart, at the thought that our efforts were in vain, and these aliens figured out we were predators from day one. I supposed our shitty treatment as glorified indentured servants was an upgrade from being wiped out. Still, it boiled my blood to think we’d hidden away underground when our secret was out. This would be the least fearful I’d ever seen an alien at the truth.
What does he mean by it “never being enough” with us? All we ever asked for from the Krev was a home, so unless he knows the full extent of conquest and exploitation in Earth’s past, that’s a baseless accusation.
“I mean that you people are fucking CRAZY!” Gress screamed, hurting my eardrums. “We saw where your subspace trail came from. Don’t you have enough space in the Federation? You have to come and take what’s ours? All we wanted was to stay away from you!”
Mayor Hathaway seemed stunned. “I beg your pardon? You…you don’t like us, because you think we’re from the Federation?”
“Obviously! We sent an expedition to your delusional corner of space, and we like our group just fine without your unscientific brainrot. We saw exactly what you do and what you stand for; let me say, you people should be ashamed of yourselves! The Krev Consortium just wants to avoid you, and fighting with your overpopulated herd. So much so, that we’ve hidden our signals, stopped expanding our territory, and haven’t accepted new members beyond our original six. So yes, we’re a little zealous in driving out outsiders, but we just want you to leave us the fuck alone!”
“I don’t think you understand—”
“Oh, I think I understand perfectly. You humans are like the Sivkits, but worse? And that’s why you’ve come here, an invasive species carried to our shores? We had no choice but to meet you with a warship, to contest your claim, when you showed up one system away from our homeworld. There was no hiding. And frankly, I don’t give an obor’s ass what the Consortium says; I’m done hiding reality to appease you people, with your shifty culture. We are herbivores, but we’re real herbivores—because real herbivores eat meat every now and then. So go ahead: burn me and get it over with.”
The three of us sat in stunned silence, staring at a quivering Gress. The Krev seemed to be finished with his rant, and slumped his head back against his shoulders. Tears swelled up in his eyes from the force of his emotions, which were mirrored by my own. I couldn’t process what he’d just unloaded on us. The Consortium had discovered the Federation, and hid away their entire society just to avoid them? If there was a single motive that I could understand for their stand-offish behavior, it was steering clear of those bastards; it was the same fear that had us chasing them off, and hiding beneath these masks even now. I also couldn’t believe that I’d heard another sapient race claim to eat meat.
How would the Krev react if they saw our binocular eyes, and realized that we’re predators? Gress seems to agree with our scientists on what an herbivore is, but his kind are still preyfolk. He already sees us as shifty.
I crossed my arms. “We’re not with the Federation. We’re…running away from them.”
“Taylor! Shut the fuck up,” Mayor Hathaway warned. “You’ve done enough.”
“This time, I think I’m doing the right thing. You heard what Gress just told us; he hates them as much as we do. Him seeing proof that we’re nothing like them; maybe it wouldn’t scare the Krev, sir. Maybe they’d understand why we…had no choice but to come here.”
The Krev squinted in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I could show you. If…if my colleague, Cherise, would be willing to give me the key. I think we’ve been afraid of—angry at—each other for the exact same reasons. Maybe it’s time for us all to take a step outside of that…fear.”
Cherise stared at me for a long moment, hesitating over what she knew I was asking. I extended my palm in a simple gesture, and with a flustered sigh, the security guard pulled the key out of her pocket. Mayor Hathaway raised a hand to stop me, before seeming to reconsider, and standing back to watch it unfold. If Gress reacted poorly to what we were, then I’d miscalculated; however, we could hold him here, and he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone back in the Consortium. This might be the one final chance to earn their mercy, and I wouldn’t pass up a third opportunity.
I gently plucked the key from Cherise’s hand. “You don’t have to be afraid of us, Gress. We’re the same people we always were. Some people in the Federation think we’re monsters, but…we don’t want to hurt anyone. We just want a chance to survive, and we can’t change certain things about ourselves. Heaven knows, I wish we could.”
“You’re finally going to show me your face? Drop the privacy bullshit?” the Krev asked.
“Yes. In a few moments, you’ll know exactly why we kept up that…bullshit.”
I cast a final glance at Cherise for encouragement, and noticed that she’d turned her head, unable to watch from nerves. I drew a deep breath, knowing full well that this next action went against everything we’d been taught about how aliens reacted to the sight of us. This was an herbivore from an alien conglomerate who’d taken us to the cleaners; we shouldn’t trust him. Somehow, I managed to fit the key into the lock, and turn it loose. I slowly raised the face covering over my head, staring straight at Gress with the full weight of my binocular gaze.
Shock spread across the Krev’s face, once he glimpsed my cut-and-beaten skull; there were no screams at the intensity of my pupils, accelerated breaths at my harsh features, or any motor reaction that belied fear. Gress simply seemed stunned by our true appearance, and soaked it in for several minutes. I felt vulnerable and exposed, under his judgment—waiting for him to pronounce what he thought of our species. The surprise, and strange amount of disbelief, hadn’t left his eyes. Wordlessly, he gestured with his tail to my gloves. I thought I understood, slipping them off of my hands and revealing my feeble fingers.
“You’re…you’re…” Gress struggled to speak, and I waited for him to call us the pejorative word we despised. Predators? “Primates. The hands confirm it. How did I not recognize your appendage structure?”
The mayor hesitated, lifting his mask off to reveal a skeptical expression. “You know what primates are?”
“We do. We definitely do.”
“There’s other primates out there?” I asked.
“Yes. I know you just clubbed me over the head, and were absolutely furious with me, but you’re adorable, Taylor.” What the fuck?! “How could I speak to you like that? Now I feel so guilty! Uh, I’m sorry, I probably should explain before I make a fool of myself. To be clear, I’m quite aware that you’re sapient, and this might be weird, but…you know the obors? They’re…nonsapient primates from our home, and we…domesticated them. We keep them as pets.”
“You…what? I didn’t see this coming, at all. I’m not sure what the fuck I’m supposed to say to that.”
“Obors are such sensitive, loyal creatures. I have one of the cute little fellas on my ship; I take precious Juvre everywhere. I was worried who was going to look after him while I was stuck down here. Maybe you want to meet an obor? Unless that’s a really weird thing to say, in which case, I’ll shut up.”
Mayor Hathaway pondered it for a moment. “Okay. We…domesticate animals too, or at least, we used to, so we understand. Take us to your ship, but don’t touch any buttons.”
“Splendid! Frankly, now that I know you’re primates, you can stay forever. I can’t believe it; real primate people. It’s a dream! You’re not prepared for how much the Krev are going to want to…help. Well, pet your fuzzy hair spot; we’ve never seen primates as furless and babyish as you. Uh, I just said that out loud, didn’t I? Pretend I didn’t. Let’s go introduce you to Juvre!”
“Lead the way. We’ll show you part of the city, while you’re at it.”
Cherise undid her mask, turning to face me. “Are you going to be alright to walk, Taylor?”
“I’d like to come, but I could, um, use some help,” I admitted.
“Okay. We’ll get you a wheelchair, or something. I imagine you’d kick yourself, not being able to feel the sun on your face at long last.”
“You know me too well. Thank you.”
For the first time since ‘36, I allowed a glimmer of genuine hope into my heart, that we could carve out an open life similar to our culture on Earth. It seemed that the Krev had misjudged humanity, and that we’d misread their attitudes toward our colonists from the beginning; we’d never needed to hide our faces at all, by the sound of it. Perhaps from what had been a powder keg waiting to explode, humanity could finally get some help in our quest to survive and rebuild our species. We could learn more about these alien neighbors—ones that weren’t delusional like the Federation—and we could tell the truth about why we’d come to this system in the first place.