Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: March 20, 2160

There was no sensation of being yanked to Avor, despite our downward trajectory. Without any view from inside the tunnel, it was impossible to differentiate between this rapid descent and any other train ride. That also meant that we couldn’t steal a peek of the passing atmosphere, thanks to the enclosure blocking our view altogether. I supposed that was an experience I could get on a spaceship instead, without seeing the ground rushing up to meet me. Quickly becoming bored of the travel time, I understood how it was mundane to the Krev. Needing something else to hold my attention, I studied the emerald-scaled alien seated across from us.

Gress seemed focused on texting someone via his holopad, and I wished I could read the curly script to spy on him a little. His gaze would occasionally shift toward me, as though he was trying to work up the courage to relay a message. The Krev clipped his device back to his workbelt, before clearing his throat; he waited until Cherise and I were both zeroed in on him. The xeno’s gaze drifted for a moment, and it was only then that I noticed that the security guard had placed her hand atop mine—comforting me while I’d been fearful over the train. I thought about removing it, but instead, raised an eyebrow at Gress, daring him to comment.

I’m glad that Cherise came with me. I couldn’t imagine doing this alone, and…we’ve always handled the Krev together. It’s right that she’s backing me up on Avor, and keeping an eye on me. Holding me accountable.

Gress pointed to his holopad with a claw. “I have a favor to ask of you two. When Lecca heard you were landing in Tonvos, our capital, she wanted to come see you in person. Her mother brought her half an hour for a special trip, just to catch a peek of you. Before we duck into the secured area, could you say hello—spare just a minute? It would make her day, and by extension, mine. This could be her only chance to meet you. I’m well aware you have more important things on your plate, but—”

“Yeah, no problem, Gress. We’d love to meet her,” Cherise said. “I bet she’ll be an adorable little munchkin.”

“Lecca is down there? And you’re just telling us now, when we’re almost to the ground?” I blinked, blindsided by the prospect of meeting Gress’ daughter now—and not from a distance, in a performance audience. After how delicate he’d been with the human child back on Tellus, I was worried my abilities with kids would let him down. “I thought we were going to her dance recital. I’m not saying we won’t do it, but it’s not her only chance to meet us.”

The Krev sighed. “I had more important things to discuss with you first; I didn’t want to distract you. I’ve decided not to bring you to the recital though. It’d distract them from the show, and you’d have kids running all over you. It’d be overwhelming for either of you. There’s no pressure if you’re not up for it, but just saying hi to Lecca…”

“Yeah. No problem. Quick and easy introductions: we can do that.”

Cherise grinned. “Who are you convincing: Gress or yourself?”

“A little of both.”

“It sounds like Lecca adores primates, from everything we’ve heard. Just be gentle, and she’ll love you.”

“I second being gentle.” Gress’ jaw locked, and he leaned forward in his seat with intensity. “I’m an understanding guy, and I’ll keep an eye on Lecca; I know you must be feeling a lot of things. I’ll be keeping an eye on you though too. If you hurt or berate my daughter in any way, Taylor—and you know why I’m jawing just at you—I will make you wish you met Federation exterminators, not me.”

“Do your claws light on fire or something? I think your threats are getting a bit detached from reality, Gressy boy,” I quipped.

“I’m not joking. You won’t hurt her. If you have something to say, say it to me when she’s gone. I don’t want to have to explain to Lecca how you can’t keep a handle on your temper. I sure as shit won’t stand for anybody harming the light of my world.”

“It’s not like I’d hurt a child. If I did, I’d deserve to have Krev exterminators kicking down my door, flaming claws and all.”

“I believe you’re a good person, Taylor. I want her to meet you both. I’m just not taking any chances with my little girl, and I know you have a mean streak—that some primates communicate through violence. Normally, I like and respect that, but not with her. If there’s one time I do expect you to put on a happy face, it’s here.”

“Of course, buddy. I’ll be cool and patient, no matter what the kiddo does. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I know there’s not. I’m here to help your species because I love what little I know about the real humanity, and I appreciate you doing something extra for my sake. We can do excellent work together, and make a kid’s day. With that said, welcome to Avor!”

The train had slowed to a halt at the bottom of the tunnel, without me noticing; the doors swung open, revealing radiant sunlight striking the cobblestone platform. Gress led Cherise and me out into the open air, while toting Juvre’s crate, and I sucked in the smells of city life: trash, street food, and vehicle exhaust. None of those things were especially pleasant, but Tonvos felt like a return to what Earth was like. Before us were maglev trains that ran horizontally, connecting the city, along with moving sidewalk strips that carried pedestrians along the street for close travel. A vast number of Krev were heading into the building behind us, which was positively massive. I knew the instant I laid eyes on it that it was iconic, and likely where we’d meet the planetary board.

The sleek pyramid defied what I believed to be architecturally possible, in terms of weight standing atop a planet’s gravitational pull. The gravity on Avor was no slouch either, seeming to be a bit stronger than what I’d grown used to on Tellus: granted, our new colony had a bit less of a downward tug than Earth, but the point stood. This deranged structure stretched up for not hundreds of meters, but over two kilometers, scraping close to the hovering outline of the Space Rings; this pyramid reached beyond tall buildings back home such as the Jeddah Tower or the Peach Trust Spire. This pyramid kept climbing past…double their height, if the eye test served me right…and its base’s length on the ground stretched for kilometers.

Several skyscrapers were housed inside the pyramidal shell, either dangling from the massive ceiling or rising up from the ground. Elevators traveled on an incline up the external trusses, able to go all the way to where the structure’s tip pierced the indigo sky. There appeared to be park-like green spaces built into the pyramid at certain intervals, and viewing balconies where Krev could overlook their city. Of all the entrances on the ground, leading into whichever skyscraper passersby were heading for, this one had but a single, heavily-guarded route to an ornate tower, which was “only” a few stories tall.

This whole contraption makes the Great Pyramid back on Earth look like a two-story house. Good God: do the Krev always go for broke when they build shit?

“That’s a tall building,” I commented.

Gress chuckled in amusement. “It sure is. It can house a million people, and it’s completely self-sustaining; just like you two loved the sun on your face, so does Tonvos Pyramid. Anyhow, we’re right outside Delegates Tower, so we’ll go through the security checkpoint in a moment. Let me just try to spot Lecca…”

“No rush, Gress. We’re happy to take in the view,” Cherise murmured. “Taylor’s ‘tall building’ remark is an understatement. It’s like saying Earth’s bombing was an unfortunate day.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course it’s an understatement, but what am I even supposed to say? We’ve got to haul the human architects who worked on our cavern out here. They’ll have a fucking meltdown when they see this gigapyramid. Holy shit.”

“Let her in! The kid!” The Krev waved his claws at someone, before shooting me a stern look. “No more cursing; I see her. The police perimeter was keeping my little one back, until they saw me waving her in. You kind of require an invite or clearance to be in this area.”

Gress moved closer to where security was keeping a few curious pedestrians back, and wrapped his tail around his legs as he waited. I couldn’t help but smile as a much smaller Krev leapt onto his tail, and snuggled up against his scales; the resemblance was undeniable. Lecca closed her eyes, digging her claws in for a ride over to us. The child’s limbs were tiny, as was her thin tail, with her body being the size of a squirrel at most. Cherise turned melty-eyed, crouching on the platform to not tower over the youngster. I followed her lead, not wanting to seem scary in lieu of Gress’ warning.

“Aw, they’re so cute!” Lecca squealed, sliding off her father’s tail. “Do they bite, Daddy?”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Gress chuckled. “No, they’re friendly, darling.”

“Then why is Juvre in his cage?”

“You know how jealous obors can get, sweet berry. Juvre might see the humans—especially the male—as competition for my affection. We don’t want him misbehaving.”

“I guess not, but that’s sad. It’d be so cute for the big primates to hold him!”

“Yeah, that figures. I’ve heard you like Juvre a lot.” I bit my lip shooting down her suggestion, despite the fact that I had no interest in rocking Juvre to sleep. What had Gress said, when one of our kids asked to touch his scales? “Maybe another time, Lecca. I’m Taylor. I’m a friend of your father.”

“A talking primate? I always wanted to be able to talk to an obor! Taylor’s even better than Juvre!”

“Yeah, I’m a lot better than Juvre,” I agreed.

My human companion snorted. “Is that your new life goal: to be superior to an obor? Lecca, I think you shouldn’t compare us to Juvre; he’s very different from us. I’m Cherise.”

“Hi Cherise! You humans don’t have much fur.”

“We don’t. Our ancestors did have full pelts, but we lost ours over time, and started wearing artificial fabrics instead.”

“The little curtains you wear are so cute! I’ve never petted a bald primate.”

Lecca darted forward before Gress could stop her, and sunk her claws into my pant leg. I kept as still as possible as she shimmied up my calf, and balanced atop my thigh; her paw pressed my wrist with fascination, earning a squeal of delight. The texture of her palm felt strange against my skin, though I didn’t interfere for fear of hurting her. I thought about asking Gress to step in, but she looked so delighted that I couldn’t bring myself to. There were some mutual feelings of cuteness overload, though I wasn’t sure how her father would feel if I patted her tiny head or tickled her chin with a finger.

After all the times that Gress has confessed to wanting to smother us with pets and hugs, I hardly think he’d have the right to judge. Still, I don’t think I should do anything that might be offensive.

Lecca’s eyes twinkled. “He has little hairs on his arm; they’re almost invisible! Look, Daddy!”

“I see, dear,” Gress replied, leaning down to pick her up and pull her away. “Why don’t you thank the nice human for his kindness? Taylor doesn’t like being touched without asking, so don’t do that again.”

“It’s alright,” I offered. “Don’t worry about it.”

Cherise extended her arms, smiling. “My turn. Can I hold her, Gress? Would she like that?”

“Just for a brief moment…I don’t want you to drop her.” Gress passed his daughter into the security guard’s hands, careful to ensure Cherise had a firm grip before letting go. Lecca burrowed her nose into the crook of my companion’s elbow. “Easy does it. Lecca, sit still; you’re going to wriggle out of her grasp! Okay, that’s it, I’m taking you back.”

“No!” Lecca protested, as her father snatched her up again. “I like the big obors. They’re nice creatures! Can we keep them?”

“Absolutely not! The humans are people. How would you like being ‘kept?’”

“That’s what you and Mom do to me.”

Gress’ face looked horrified, enough so that it was comical. “You’re not a possession!”

“Then I can leave?”

“No!”

“So you’re keeping me ‘hostage’, just like the people you were supposed to help free at your old job.”

“No, that’s not…you’re a child. We’re responsible for you until you get old enough to understand things, like how anything that talks isn’t something that belongs to you.”

“PLEEEASE keep them? I’ll take such good care of them—”

“The answer is no! You’re going back to your mother, right now. Run along! Now, or you won’t get to see Juvre for [a month]!”

“You’re so mean. The humans are way better than you. Bye Taylor! Bye Cherise!”

“We’ll see you later, Lecca,” Cherise said, while I struggled with the fact the child thought it was okay to keep us like obors. “Good luck at your dance recital.”

“Thanks!”

The tiny child scampered off, returning to where her mother was waiting; Gress pressed his claws to his face in embarrassment, clearly mortified by everything Lecca had said. An apologetic glint flashed in his eyes, as he finally looked back at us. I stood up, hearing a loud pop from my stiff knees, and waited for the Krev to say the first word. He was silent for a few steps, herding us toward a security checkpoint by Delegates Tower. Cherise seemed amused by the entire debacle, and seeing her on the verge of laughter lifted my mood as well. It was pretty amusing, to hear a child compare being controlled by parents to being a hostage.

“I’m sorry about that.” Gress spoke at last, stopping us just shy of the checkpoint. “I know it sounded awful, but Lecca doesn’t know what she’s saying. I’ll have a talk with her about humans being people, and make sure this never happens again.”

Cherise’s lips curved up further. “Kids say the damnedest things. Don’t worry about it. I actually thought it was pretty funny.”

“And I think we should free Lecca,” I joked.

“You can’t help but have fun at my expense, can you?” Gress sighed.

“No, I cannot.”

“We should change the saying ‘obor enterprise’ to ‘human enterprise.’”

“What’s the holdup?” A towering pink avian approached, causing me to feel some level of intimidation. She definitely had a few feet of height on me, and from what Gress told us about the Reskets, I didn’t want to pick a fight with one. “Excuse me, but you can’t loiter in this area. The Board is expecting you, so I suggest you complete your scans and get moving.”

“This is a sensitive first contact, and they’ve been a private people for a long time. I relayed ahead to the Consortium about my concerns; this is a unique scenario. Perhaps we can skip the brain scans, just this once?”

“There are two decades of tensions between the humans and us. Your request was received and denied. They’ll complete the scans, no exceptions, if they wish to see the Board.”

Gress winced, before turning a sheepish look on Cherise and I. “I’m sorry. It’s going to…scan your mind for any psychological warning signs, and your memories for whether you have any hostile intent toward the Krev. It’s really nothing to worry about. Just step in that gate, stand there for a few seconds, and we can move on to getting aid for Tellus.”

“Back the fuck up,” I hissed. “That machine is going to—can—read my mind at a glance? That’s not info I want any alien knowing…sensitive things about humans, revealed? Why the fuck are you just telling us now?”

Cherise raised her eyebrows. “I agree. There’s nothing we can keep secret, or to ourselves, if we step in there. That’s putting a lot of faith in the Krev to have our best interests at heart. Being told now—”

“It’s being sprung on you, much too fast,” Gress finished. “I only didn’t tell you because I thought it’d be avoided, in light of your circumstances…and your unfamiliarity with us. If it’s any consolation, every diplomat and visitor does this; the machine only flags warning signs of violence. It’s a way of predicting anyone who’d attack our leaders, and while it’s mainly for the Jaslips, we apply it equally. I have nothing to hide, so I’ll go first.”

After leaving Juvre with security, the Krev walked into the gate, which scanned him for a brief moment; his identification flashed up on the guard’s console, and after the machine announced that no threats were detected, she buzzed him on. Should I follow, forsaking all notions of privacy, or risk offending our hosts by refusing and booking it back to the train? My mind was racing, hoping to do what was best for all of humanity—for our future. The fact was that we needed the Consortium’s help, and given their tech level, if they wanted to hurt us, we were through. If this was a necessary part of diplomatic relations with them, we’d have to bite the bullet eventually.

I ambled forward, as the Resket guard fixed me with an impatient look. Gress seemed relieved that I went along with it, and perhaps a little surprised. That Krev must have a certain opinion on my obstinance. I stood inside of the chamber, trying to keep as still as possible; my head turned back in the direction I’d come from. Cherise gave me a reassuring smile, showing support for my decision. I wasn’t sure what the machine would do to me, because unlike Gress, it would be unable to recognize my biometrics or my species at all. I waited, feeling my heart rate accelerate.

This is a bad experience for anyone who’s claustrophobic. It’s smaller than the lift we rode to Tellus’ surface, though it has quite a bit of height to accommodate Reskets…

“Error: species not recognized,” a mechanical voice stated. “Please wait. Scanning. Requesting operator input for species name.”

The Resket leaned over her console, tapping a microphone. “Human.”

“Biometric data classified. The subject is showing high levels of brain activity consistent with stress. Rising pulse suggests duress. Should we pause the scan?”

“No.”

I clasped my sweaty palms together, waiting as it scanned the contents of my brain. “Can we just…get this over with? Gress’ ordeal was a lot faster.”

“Well, it must not like something it sees with you,” the Resket responded.

“Wonderful. Do enlighten me on my thought crimes.”

The machine flashed an abysmal red color, as if in response to me. “Alert. Subject is presently showing signs of head trauma and post-traumatic stress disorder. There are numerous instances of contemplating violence upon Krev representatives, including one case of a tangible assault. The following problems have also been flagged: resentment toward the Krev government, fantasies of revenge, severe disillusionment, and xenophobia toward all alien lifeforms.”

I scratched my neck. “That’s a nice party trick. So I can go in?”

“Those fantasies of violence toward the Krev aren’t current,” Gress interjected. “It said nothing about present inclinations toward violence. Come on, let him through.”

The Resket guard hesitated, before pressing a wing against the console to grant me authorization. I hurried over to Gress, grateful for his aid getting me out of that box; I’d felt pretty vulnerable, with it somehow picking apart my every desire and past deed. The Krev rent collector looked a little concerned for me, perhaps having heard the machine label me as a poster child for PTSD. I guessed that answered the question about whether the Consortium called everything predator disease. Either way, it wasn’t a topic I wished to discuss; Cherise loped into the scanning chamber, with some hesitation, and I waited for it to slap labels on her.

“Unknown individual from the species, human. Cataloging,” the machine pronounced. “The subject shows moderate levels of resentment toward the Krev Consortium. No history of violent behavior or recurring fantasies.”

The Resket stared at Cherise for an extra second, beak parting in thought, before granting her entry. Gress steered us through the lobby of the tower, eager to get away from the bird’s scrutiny. The Krev led us further back into the building, descending a flight of stairs into a “basement” below the tower. We passed by a series of offices, for what I ventured were like government department heads; security increased as we moved further toward the back, though they all waved us on. Our guide only stopped as we strolled into a meeting room, where members of all six species waited on ergonomic “thrones” of sorts. I tried to clear my head, realizing that this was our destination.

These were the leaders of the Consortium: the ones I needed to convince to aid us, and to help bring humanity back from the brink of extinction. The five aside from the Krev representative wouldn’t be moved by us being primates, so I couldn’t use that as a fallback. With our very future in the balance, I waited for the delegates to speak their first words to an unmasked human.