Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: March 13, 2160
The sound of an alarm clock detonating by my bedside jolted me from a dreamless sleep, much too early.
I stumbled over to the sink and brushed my teeth, splashing some water in my face to wake myself up. The grimy mirror showed my binocular eyes, with twinkling blue irises, and the buzzcut attuned to the warm climate of this world. It was cooler and ventilated in the underground caverns, but when I traveled to the surface to hurry off the Krev, it would be punishing—and we couldn’t take off the layers for anything. I wondered how I’d gotten saddled with the role of payment ambassador in the first place. I hated those fucking aliens as much as anyone.
“It’d be too much to hope for, that we could just keep to ourselves. We send an ark ship to get away from aliens, and we find more of them,” I grumbled, knowing I’d have to put on a pleasant face in a few minutes.
When Ark Ship 3 carried us to this uninhabited, breathable world, I had been nine years old; suffice to say, I barely remembered Earth. We’d kept documentation with us of the threat, just in case future generations forgot why we had to be leery of aliens. Heading to the stars, we found a vast majority of herbivores who despised us and wished us dead. Hundreds of species, all plotting our extinction despite our efforts of peace. The lone other predator, seemingly a rarity, were child-eating monsters, who we wanted nothing to do with either—despite what those fuckwit Krakotl had thought.
Our homeworld, and the ten billion humans we left behind, were extinct, barring a miracle. The ark ships had been sent out in quiet fashion by the UN to ensure our species’ survival, and told never to contact home again. Starting civilization over from scratch with a few thousand people aboard wasn’t easy; it was as bad as when our kind almost died on our cradle, during an Ice Age. How long would it take us to bounce back to where we were? At least we had our knowledge and technology. We preserved our memories and keepsakes in vaults, a mere specter of what once was.
“Let’s get moving, Taylor.” Cherise Benson, a security officer, waved her rifle in a lazy gesture. She was already wearing full concealment gear. “Scaly fuckers are on their descent from orbit. We don’t need more protests from our own people, or for the xenos to stick around any more than necessary.”
I pressed a hand to my temple. “I’m not looking forward to this. The miners are behind schedule because of the strike, so we have to barter for a few extra days. Damn militia’s already used up all the last quarter’s shipments, and we can’t dip into that. Fucking hell.”
“Tell the Krev they’ll either get the payments in a few days, or they won’t get jackshit. They’re the ones profiting off our backs, taking what they haven’t put anything into; making us hide down here like rabbits in a burrow.”
“I…I wish I knew what it was like to feel the sun on my face. To stand in the rain. Sometimes, I wonder what it would…”
“That’s our job, Taylor: to stop people from doing anything impulsive. Much as I hate those Krev bastards, we can’t afford to fight them. Better to pay up than to have them kill us…or take us from our home.”
“I guess so. Wish we could just up and leave, but where else are we gonna go? There’s aliens everywhere. For all we know, the next ones are worse.”
“Given that the Federation and the Arxur are out there, that’s the truth. Makes the Krev Consortium not seem so bad. Now let’s go suit up, before they’ve got a chance to even wander from the landing pad.”
The arrangement between the Krev and us felt like it was hanging on by a thread sometimes, but it beat the alternative of having no home or fighting for our lives again. It didn’t mean resentment didn’t fester. We’d come to this system as our supplies were running out, and hydroponics contingencies meant to push us further had failed. This world, which we called Tellus (Earth in Latin), was our last hope; this was the place we had to settle. However, as we aligned our flight path for a landing, a warship dropped out from a gas giant’s gravity well—and broadcast a message that this was Consortium territory. They demanded that we leave, at least showing more gusto than “prey” races back home.
I don’t like those fuckers, but they aren’t scared of their own shadow. If anything, the Krev are emotionless, and all business; they’ve never seemed interested in sharing any details about themselves either.
Knowing how every alien we’d encountered back in the Orion Arm had reacted, we knew we couldn’t let any other race know what we were: predators. It would’ve been our preference not to speak to any aliens at all, but our quick-thinking captain had covered her face with scarves, looking something like a mummy on the call. She pleaded for the Krev to let us land, noting that our supplies were out and that thousands of settlers would die without the planet. Our ships’ language models interfaced during the hail, and allowed translator implants on both ends to facilitate communication. It was after a prolonged discussion that the Consortium struck the bargain I was carrying out now. They’d allow us to colonize the world, in exchange for a cut of the raw materials unearthed during our efforts.
We didn’t exactly have a choice; we were desperate, and not in a position to bargain out the terms. Our efforts went to building our city infrastructure underground; beneath the concealment of overhead soil, this was the only place that we could show our faces. Up on the surface, full disguises were required to avoid our predatory features being spotted through satellite imaging. The security guards locked the clasp on our inner cloth helmet, which looked something like a fencing mask, and that ensured nobody could get the reckless idea to remove it once they got up there. I’d had to put on the full garb now, before the elevator was unsealed.
“Well, let’s hope for the best. I get the sense they already want us gone. Krev seemed to have a stick up their ass lately, with their snide comments about our secrecy.” I yawned as we strolled past lit interiors, carved into the sides of the cavern, and passed several tired people through the cobblestone street. The subterranean metro was visible beyond the elevator’s sealed gates. “It’s not like they’re forthcoming themselves.”
Cherise stopped me with a hand, placing the cloth mask over my head and turning the key. “You know the drill, Taylor. Time to be…Mr. Cordiality. Charm the shit out of them.”
“If anyone can buy us time, it’ll be done. Let’s get this over with.”
I unslung the secondary cloth from my shoulder, and wrapped it around my forehead and chin for further concealment. Cherise shot a thumbs up at the control room, who watched up on the balcony; there was a buzzing noise as the gate sealing the elevator came undone. I called the lift, and shuffled inside as the doors chimed open. My security escort tailed behind me, tapping her fingers on the ascent button. I listened to the whirring noise of the gears, as we ascended up through the place of residence we’d carved out.
Aboveground wasn’t populated by many personnel, aside from the handful of top-world farmers and the militia people working with starships. I raised a hand in politeness as I passed a group of service technicians, who were tinkering with a gunship’s engines. Some days, I wished they’d fire up the guns, charge the incoming rent collector, and tell the Krev where to get off. A scowl creased my face beneath the mask, as I saw the alien ship touching down on our landing pad. Cherise and I quickened our strides, to ensure we were hovering by the alien ship as soon as they disembarked.
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Gress, who’d been the Krev’s rent collector for the past few years, strolled down the ramp with his usual unfriendly expression. His dark green scales brightened beneath the glow from the star, something we’d guessed meant they evolved in the jungle. Gress’ lengthy tail curled with distaste, and his tongue flitted with impatience. I found the quirky mammals a bit reminiscent of pangolins from Earth. That was what they were called, right? I wasn’t too stellar with knowing things from home…our true home.
“Gress! How are you doing?” I gushed, with fake enthusiasm.
The Krev sighed, a bored look on his face. “Taylor, is it? It’s difficult to recognize you, with you hiding beneath those masks.”
“It’s not polite to insult our way of life, and our culture. You know we’re a private people.”
“That’s one thing to call you. I suppose we should know better than to ask you to answer basic questions about yourself. We still don’t know who we’re dealing with.”
“Your attitude doesn’t seem in the interests of partnership, Gress. You’ve benefited from our toiling immensely.”
“I just…I swear I remember that this arrangement was supposed to be temporary. It’s starting to seem like it’s anything but.”
“Don’t you think it’s harsh to ask us to pack up and leave overnight? Whatever you think of our ways, humans haven’t undermined or harmed you in any way; we have the utmost gratitude for how you’ve allowed our settlers to make a life for themselves. Why ruin a good thing for us both?
Gress pawed at the ground, scowling. “I’d like to be anywhere but here, so let’s get a move on it. I don’t see the crates ready to load onto the cargo hold. Have you forgotten what day it is?”
“Of course not. Look…you know that we’ve been reliable. We’ve never missed any of our days before, which is another reason you should value how we honor our deals. I’m afraid that we’ve…experienced a setback in our mining efforts, and we need a bit of extra time.”
“Let me get this straight. You people let me land, with zero forewarning, then tell me you don’t have what I traveled hours to collect? What’s owed to us for our land?”
“I’d like to offer sincere apologies on behalf of humanity. Truly, we are a hardworking people, and I’m humiliated to say we’ve missed our deadlines; this is a rarity. An anomaly. But in the spirit of a reasonable response, perhaps we can come to an agreement. All we need is a few days, and we can tack on a little extra to make it worth the additional trip. Please, Gress.”
“Tell me what the reason is for this delay, and I will consider it.”
I hesitated, unsure how much Mayor Hathaway would want me to divulge to the Krev. The only way to ever get promoted away from this detail, perhaps to a leadership role in recognition of my silver tongue, was to stay on the head honcho’s good side. This alien probably wouldn’t be understanding about a strike due to our laborers resenting the very payments he was here to collect. We were going to have to work overtime just to get enough to pass along to him in a few days; I wasn’t sure I could fulfill the extra, but I’d needed to throw in something. I needed to sell him a line of total bullshit, since at least these xenos didn’t seem entirely devoid of sympathy.
Whatever it takes to make Gress go for it, I’ll go over to the mines myself, and make sure it’s delivered. We can’t fight them, and we can’t leave everything we’ve got left behind us. I truly hate this, but it gives humanity a chance.
“We had to replace a lot of our equipment due to safety concerns, and the overhauls took longer than expected. Computer glitches here and there,” I fibbed. “Three days should be plenty of time for us to get back to our normal production. How much will it take to right this wrong, Gress? I don’t want you feeling cheated or put off.”
The Krev squinted at me for several seconds. “Hm. You don’t have any materials in surplus, to give us now?”
“Not the standard materials we give you. But, if there’s something else you want…maybe we can hand over something now. I’m telling you, if there were any leftovers we could give you, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. I hate having to ask for charity.”
“As if letting you land on this world wasn’t charity enough. Hmph.”
“You know humans are in your debt. You know we’re good for it, in three days’ time. That’s not that long, in the big picture, and it’s nothing worth tearing up a deal that’s worked for decades. Decades, without anything going awry. We can come to an understanding here. I know you can give us some leniency: one exception.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. One exception. I want double our usual cut from you squatters, in three days’ time. You better have it.”
Cherise’s hands tightened around her gun. “Double? That’s rid—”
“That’s a deal, Gress. Thank you for your kindness and understanding,” I spoke, through gritted teeth. “You won’t regret your faith in us. I hope you have a safe voyage back home, and we look forward to delivering the goods in three days’ time.”
“In other words, you want to chase me off. Don’t worry; I’d rather be anywhere else than this desolate world, overrun by humans.” The Krev stalked back to his ship, keeping one side-facing eye trained on us. “Send the word back to your people. We are going to talk about setting an end date to your stay here. I don’t care if it’s years from now, but you’re not staying here forever.”
“I understand, and we can discuss that once we’re back on normal footing. Farewell!”
The Krev wandered back into his vessel, and with the engines still warm, he rocketed up from the landing pad as soon as he reached the cockpit. I watched the alien ship rise into the clouds, grateful that I’d managed to get him to agree to anything at all; Gress hadn’t given me the impression that they were willing to cut us any slack. When the interloper vanished up into the atmosphere, I finally allowed my emotions to shine through. I was all smiles, figuratively speaking, to his face, but I wanted to knock that rude prick’s lights out!
I kicked the sand with my boot, as soon as I was certain he couldn’t see. “Assholes. No good, fuckfaced—”
“Settle down, Taylor. You’re just getting yourself worked up,” Cherise admonished me. “You calm?”
“Yes.”
“Good, because now, it’s my turn to get pissed off. What the fuck were you thinking? Cranking the first shipment out would’ve been enough. You’re going to have to push the machinery to the absolute limits…pull double shifts, to bring two times the standard amount! I don’t even know if we can do it.”
“We can do it. We’ll work the main drill overtime, and blast as many damn rocks as humanly possible. I’m not giving those cold fucks any chance to kick us out. All the Krev need is one perceived slight, and I think they’re throwing us out. I can sense it.”
“You can sense it? That’s the second time you’ve said that! I know we’ve all been trapped underground too fucking long, but I think you’re losing your mind.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “Cherise, I’m not taking any chances. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s reading people, and Gress is all but done with us. Tellus is our home now, and we need to find some way to keep our foot in the door.”
“You want humans to break our backs to benefit those lazy fuckers, just to keep them from uprooting our lives? What happens if we can’t deliver?”
“We’ll deliver. Look, I’m not in horrid shape myself. I’m going to go in and supervise, be ready to jump in as an extra set of hands if needed. Maybe you could send any able-bodied security folks down there as well. We can do this, as a team. Nobody is taking our home; I’m not leaving another planet. It’ll be over my dead body.”
The security guard’s body language looked exhausted. “Fine, Taylor. You win. Just…good luck selling this plan to the miners and to Mayor Hathaway.”
“Nothing a few fabrications can’t fix. Mayor can tell ‘em it’s for urgent fixes to the military, since we want to be ready to scrap with the Krev. Any luck, and the miners will never know where we really sent the ore.”
“Lying? For them?”
“For us. I’m doing my job, and buying us time. If anyone else has a better idea, or if the Mayor wants to question my judgment, that’s his prerogative. I will do whatever it takes to keep us together. We’re the last of humanity left around, and I don’t want to do anything that’d squander that chance. Too many good people died back home!”
“Isn’t that the truth. It still blows my mind that they killed…all of those people,” Cherise murmured. “I’ll help you and keep my mouth shut, Taylor, but don’t think I support this. You better be right.”
“I will be. Now let’s get to the mines and put everyone to work; there’s no time to waste. Come on.”
I hustled back toward the elevator, suppressing my own groan of displeasure at the thought of heading down to the mines. Even with machinery to carry some of the load, it was still a gritty, exhausting job; I was probably going to be a bit short on shuteye, with the shifts we’d need to pull for these quantities of materials. Once we got the Krev off of our backs for this cycle, we could focus on making it to the next payment—with a more reasonable timeframe to complete our work. I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep the peace between humanity and the Consortium, but it would take a great deal of commitment to make this arrangement last much longer at all.