Memory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Scientist
Date [standardized human time]: March 14, 2160
The human settled next to me at the table, fiddling with the utensils as if to gauge their weight. He’d spent much of the time while FAI scientists were trickling in explaining basics, which had already been passed along to Naltor and I. Haliska, meanwhile, was doing her best attempt to sink into a chair, while Nulia seemed to be watching the reactions as real-time quality control. I noticed the Gojid speaking up, each time Dustin’s words were misinterpreted or unclear to some Bissems. Perhaps I could encourage her to take the lead, and get her to open up a little about her personal life. The Terran xenobiologist had seemed like any other person, when he spoke of his past as an orphan.
“You say you were raised by a human, Nulia?” I prompted. “How did that lead you to become a sociologist, and to wind up in this first contact party?”
Nulia leaned back, hesitating. “My home life was…difficult, at times. It’s a long story, but much like Dustin, I wound up living on Skalga—home of the Venlil.”
“Hold on. I thought Dustin was from Earth?”
“He is. He was…forced to evacuate from his planet, like many other humans, due to unforeseeable events. Don’t ask me. Stayed with a Venlil as a temporary refugee, and wound up getting permanently adopted. Without his adoptive mother encouraging him and a part-time job studying wildlife with the exterminators—another long story—I doubt he would’ve pursued his passion fully. If you’d like more details, I suggest you ask him.”
“I apologize for getting sidetracked. I was asking about you, Nulia. We’d like to get to know all of you.”
“There’s not much to tell about me. I had a lot of resentment toward my own people, and the human soldier that rescued me also got stuck caring for a Venlil friend. Slanek, his name was; he had a few years where he got better, before there was nothing the doctors could do. Once I understood what was happening, I didn’t want to be around and watch that decline. Poured myself into studies; to graduating and getting far away from Skalga. I started learning Vrit before I’d ever gotten my certificates…perhaps that’s a selfish motivation.”
“You don’t want to open up to people, because you’re afraid of losing them,” I guessed. “That’s understandable.”
“That’s for you to judge. I was one of the youngest Gojids to graduate with a degree in my field. Whatever my personal issues, I can assure I’m both qualified and stable enough to analyze your society.”
“I’m not worried about your qualifications. I’ve just started to get this crazy fantasy in my head that we could become…friends. We could bond.”
“I’m happy to get to know more about Bissems, and see where it goes from here. Do you ever just people watch, Doctor? Just look around and make observations like you’re some omniscient narrator?”
“I can’t say I do.”
“Perhaps I understand,” Naltor chimed in, from a few seats down. “Always watch the exits. Count the potential threats. You never know when a situation could go sideways.”
Nulia waggled a claw. “That isn’t what I mean at all. I just mean, you look at a person’s behavior and imagine what they’re feeling. What their life might’ve been like. I do that on a microscopic scale, and it follows that, as a sociologist, that’s what I’m doing on a wider scale.”
“Any observations you can share about how our development compares to your own?” I prompted.
“As things stand, you have a lot less…outside interference. On a less bleak note, Bissem flightlessness influencing religion is one of the more intriguing topics I’ve found. How you must’ve compared yourselves to other birds, to the point of one faith proclaiming that Kail took that ability away from you.”
Haliska glanced up for a brief moment. “I find it interesting that Bissems view it as flight being taken away, rather than swimming being given to them. There’s nothing more joyful than splashing around in the waves on a hot day.”
“I’ll agree with that. It’s too fucking hot here,” Naltor commented, gesturing to his Selmer blubber meant for the arctic. “If there wasn’t water, I’d melt into a damn bubble.”
“The Bissems love water, Haliska, but the reason for their comparisons is simple. We often do not appreciate what we have, and we want that which is not within our grasp,” Nulia commented, ignoring the Selmer. “That’s why I’ve spent so much of my life wishing my mother hadn’t abandoned me, despite having a chaperone who nurtured me to the best of his ability. It’s natural.”
I tapped my tan flipper on the table, watching out of my periphery as platters of food were carried into room. “I’ve spent a lot of time, wishing that aliens would arrive and solve all of our problems. Do you think that means I don’t appreciate Ivrana? I most certainly love our homeworld; I just want it to the best it can be.”
“Forgive my honest answer, but I suspect it reflects on what you believe about Bissem nature. You think that you need fixing because of your flaws. Accepting imperfection is…difficult, in general, whether it’s wishing for flight or wishing for more love in the world. Sometimes, it’s easier to believe there’s a magical fix.”
My eyes lowered toward the ground, weighing the truth in Nulia’s words. Given that she’d devoted her career to studying different societal motivations, and her professed affinity for watching people’s behavior, I shouldn’t be surprised that her assessments were so spot on. While I was a half-hearted believer in Hirs, and an afterlife at the center of Ivrana, I could recognize the validity of Haliska’s comment on Kail as well. Instead of despairing at our own flightlessness, we could marvel at how swimming gave us the means to create a society; if we hadn’t been driven to fish and circumnavigate the seas, we wouldn’t have developed many of our gifts so soon. What would Bissems even be without fishing?
Those other alien birds that Dustin mentioned before could fly, but if I could trade places, I wouldn’t. For all our flaws, and all my hopes that we can behave in peaceful fashion, there is so much that I love about Bissem culture. We’re unique, and blessed to be joining a sea of diverse cultures.
Haliska’s expression looked a bit queasy, as several fish cutlets sat in front of her. “That’s a…real dead animal in front of me. Not something grown in a lab.”
“You knew that,” Nulia warned. “Pull yourself together.”
Naltor leveled a direct stare at the Thafki. “There’s vegetable dishes as well, per Dustin’s request. Is there something I can get you?”
“No. Thanks,” the blue-gray mammal murmured. “Maybe, just…no one t-talk to me for a minute? Please? I need to breathe.”
The human turned away from his back-and-forth with FAI scientists, who were hanging on his every word. “What a bounty you guys have laid out for us! I see that you even cooked one of the trays; that must’ve been Tassi’s doing. You listened when I said we heat our meals.”
“Of course I listened. There’s nothing I want more than to learn everything about your species,” I replied. “I hope it’s to your liking. Please, help yourself; as our guests, we’d like you to eat first.”
“Well, I’m not one to turn down something that smells so delightful. I appreciate all of your effort and the special accommodations; all of you staying late, on the last day before the weekend, away from your homes and families, just to spend time with us. Now, I’m not just the first xenobiologist on your world; I’ll be the first to sample your food! The flavors of Ivrana will be a blessing to my tastebuds, I have no doubt.”
“Now watch him spit it out,” Naltor joked, as Dustin heaped a preshfish cutlet and a scoop of greens onto his plate.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than surströmming. Fermented fish some crazy folks at home eat, despite the fact it smells like a rotten corpse! I better stop talking, or I’ll kill my own appetite.”
Haliska was pulling at her rounded ears, after the human’s jovial remarks, and batted Nulia’s paw away as the Gojid tried to intervene. I was about ready to step in on the Thafki’s behalf, despite the fact I didn’t know for certain what I was witnessing; my gut was telling me that she shouldn’t be anywhere near this table. Cameras were streaming her erratic behavior to the world. I decided not to spoil the moment, and break up the festivities, until Dustin had enjoyed our offerings. The human’s eyes twinkled, as he sliced off a meager bite of meat and inserted it into his jaw. He pushed it around on his tongue for a moment, before his lips curved up in approval.
Nulia shot a concerned look at Haliska, before grabbing a preshfish cutlet for herself. That seemed to be the snapping point for the Thafki, who bolted from the table with manic eyes. Several FAI scientists gasped in alarm, while Naltor attempted to stop her; the blue-gray alien ducked his grasp, with the advantage of her short height. I watched in disbelief as she ran off, toward where the public was lurking. She couldn’t just roam our streets at first contact; I knew the Selmer general was thinking the same thing. Outside of a controlled environment, there was no guarantee of her safety, or from the military’s point of view, ours. There was nothing to stop reporters from cornering her either.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Dustin stood from his chair. “Haliska! You can’t run off. This is their planet; we’re their guests! We don’t have permission to wander…Hallie! Stop! You’re causing a scene in front of hundreds of cameras. You can’t run away from the Bissems on their own world. Ah, damn it!”
“I can’t have an alien roaming loose on the streets. What the fuck has gotten into her?” Naltor spat.
“Please, don’t hurt her. I know she has no right to scamper off, when we’re just building trust, but she’s having a panic attack. I beg you to forgive her transgression.”
“I’ll have my men collect Haliska, but you can forget waiting until tomorrow to give us the full story. I want to know why she did that, right now.”
“Not here. Let’s take it somewhere private; Dr. Tassi can come as well, if she wants. For those watching, the Thafki species has some…residual trauma that caused Haliska to react in such a way. I’d rather not spell out something so sad to everyone as part of our introduction.”
The Selmer general narrowed his eyes. “Fine. If you’re not truthful though, I might have to find a reason to detain Haliska for questioning.”
“General Naltor! That is crossing the line,” I spat.
“I don’t care. I’m not having any detail left out when it’s information Bissems need to know, and when it’s affecting their self-control.”
“There’s no need for us to get ruffled feathers. We can settle this privately, like adults.” Dustin wolfed down a few more bites of his food, before abandoning his plate. “Please, show me to a secluded spot. I’ll be more than forthcoming.”
Naltor rose from the table, seeming to weigh bringing security along for the conversation, before deciding that he could handle the human’s unimpressive physique. Nulia shared a few whispers with Dustin; the Terran asked the Gojid to stay with the other FAI scientists, and try to smooth things over for the cameras—as well as to soothe Haliska if she was brought back in our absence. I followed with my own reluctant curiosity; while I wanted answers to what happened in that atrocious war, and how it tied into a feast, it felt wrong to threaten the human’s teammate to ensure his cooperation. The Selmer general was just lashing out from fear, since whatever hypotheticals he was conjuring about the missing details were likely getting more sinister by the minute.
Haliska didn’t like seeing the fish brought out, and she definitely didn’t like Dustin and Nulia putting cutlets on their plates. The human said it was a panic attack, and that the Thafki had “trauma.” Does Haliska see herself as the fish, somehow? That’s a deranged conclusion, isn’t it?
Dustin waited as Naltor shut the door to an unassuming office, before sitting down in a chair. The human’s expression looked crestfallen; I could see that he was distraught over how the dinner had fallen apart. He knew as well as we both did how the populace would be reacting to Haliska’s sudden departure. It made the aliens look emotional and unstable, as Ivrana’s first impression of how they’d interact with us Bissems. Speculation must be running rampant about the Thafki’s behavior, and we’d have to make a statement about it sooner rather than later. The Selmer general had a point about getting to the bottom of this without any further delays.
“I’m going to tell you everything, without any exclusions, but I’m begging you not to freak out, Naltor,” Dustin sighed. “We need to try to…get through this, together. Humanity will help you every step of the way.”
The Selmer folded his flippers with a cross expression. “I have a feeling I’m going to love what you’re about to say.”
“You’re not. The thing about galactic history is, it’s an absolute clusterfuck. It just gets worse the more you hear. If it’s any solace, we had to jump right into it with nobody to turn to, when it was still an ongoing phenomenon: not just a thing of the past.”
Nerves constricted my throat. “You’re doing an excellent job at instilling…dread, over how dark this story might be.”
“I’m sorry, Tassi, but I’m trying to break it to you straight, without inspiring panic. So here it goes. That species that wiped out the Thafki homeworld? They’re called the Arxur, and they perpetrated hundreds of gruesome raids, which were…tailored toward collecting sapient cattle.” Dustin waited as a gasp escaped from my beak, and Naltor leaned in with disbelief. What kind of abominable civilization would hold thinking people as livestock? “Yeah. It’s ugly. Haliska’s kind only had 12,000 free individuals, while millions were only just liberated and brought to the Commune as part of the Treaty of Sol.”
“I…that’s beyond horrible. Why would anyone want to eat other sapient species?!” I shrieked, before noticing Dustin wince at my volume. “Sorry. I just…the feast brings up memories of this Arxur species’ atrocities toward her kind?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that. When humans came to space, we were considered…abominations by the Federation, the ruling entity that saw ‘predators’ as monsters. They had quite the liberal definition of predators, but our binocular eyes made us especially offensive. Many still consider it disgusting that we eat meat, even today. Now, the…founders of this Federation would abduct members of pre-FTL species, and use them in genetic experiments to ‘cure’ them. To make them…allergic to meat, and wipe everything predatory from their past.”
Naltor’s brain seemed to be freezing, or so his dumbfounded expression would imply. “I’m sorry, what? What the actual fuck? When you were saying our first contact would’ve been different, you’re saying they would’ve…cured us.”
“Nulia’s species was cured, and you uncured her,” I added, feeling my head hurt as the gears turned. “She mentioned it to Haliska.”
“We helped undo the gene edits forced on many races. We’ve tried to uncover every species’ true history, and give it back to them. Prejudice against us has been something we’ve struggled with. Humanity was nearly wiped out when we achieved FTL, and it was the Federation that tried to kill us, because of what we were. They tried to cure us, and it failed by their own ineptitude. Like they would’ve failed with you, because you’re obligate carnivores.”
“So they would’ve just killed us?” Naltor chirped. “That’s fucking great. Are these species still a threat? This is something the military needs to know about!”
“We won that war. We have control of this sector, and have neutralized or assimilated parties that might be a threat to you. Candidly, the threats you’re facing are more…diplomatic in nature. We’ll support your efforts and protect you, if anyone raises a wing against you. However, there are many who will compare you to the Arxur: the now-exiled species that ate sapients and fed on cruelty. Bissems are the only other obligate carnivores we know of. These prejudices will lead to a challenging and unfair introduction, no matter how much we try to step in.”
I felt as though the human had kicked ice into my eyes, a cold shock that threatened to pull out my emotions via tears. After all of my fantasies about putting forth a good first impression of Ivrana, Dustin laid out that aliens would be prejudiced against us…because the other sapient carnivores fucking ate people. How could we convince them that Bissems wouldn’t do that, if they’d studied us for so long and still not arrived at that conclusion? Fishing was such a central part of our culture, that I’d never even considered that it was what triggered Haliska’s fright.
For all my fantasies about what aliens would be like, and how eager I’d been at Dustin’s speech for what they could teach us, I’m not sure there’s a place for us in this Sapient Coalition. Besides, Ivrana isn’t ready to hear that other spacefaring species would’ve killed us, if we’d been discovered before humanity!
“All of my life, I wanted to find you.” My voice sounded broken, discouraged, and defeated, as the realization that Bissems were incompatible with friendship in the stars sunk in. “I wanted to learn about you, but not like this. Not such an unspeakable past.”
Dustin pursed his lips. “I know we’re…they’re not ready to contact you, but we couldn’t wait. Your overfishing on Ivrana has reached the point of no return; without outside help, there will be global consequences and mass starvation. I won’t sugarcoat it. You’re amidst a complete marine ecosystem collapse. Your oceans are acidifying, and they store fifty times more CO2 than the atmosphere. It’ll start making much of Ivrana uninhabitable to boot. Bissem scientists know this, Tassi; I think you do too.”
“I know the oceans are dying. The waters are becoming more orange, polluted with algae, than ever. I don’t see what I can do about—”
“We need to come in with lab-grown meat, so that you ease the burden of fishing on your environment: beyond what farms can do. We’ll help you clean your oceans. We have robots that can scour for plastic, and we can help reintroduce endangered species, before it’s too late. There’s zero time for inaction. All of our simulations have shown this. We don’t need all Bissems to cooperate with each other, but we need you to cooperate with us.”
“That’s your plan? You said yourself you didn’t know how the Tseia would react! That you didn’t want an ICBM in your hull!” Naltor challenged.
“That’s…part of my plan. I want you and Tassi to help us establish relations with the Merlei Huddledom, the Confederation of Vrital, and the Tseia Nomads. And if you can accept the unpleasant truth of the galaxy’s past, we can plan your introduction to the Sapient Coalition. Humans defeated prejudices that were much stronger and more nefarious, so there’s no reason you can’t prove yourselves too. We could take you to many worlds, and you can learn so much about what’s out there. Do you still want that?”
I drew a shaky breath. “I reckon we want to keep humanity in our corner. If there’s something I can do to help our first impression, I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try.”
“If we didn’t try.” Naltor’s eyes were unwavering, reflecting that there was no room for argument. “If you’re taking Tassi on a joyride across the galaxy, I wouldn’t want to miss out on whatever she learns. I feel obligated to protect Lassmin…and all Bissems’ interests.”
“Great. Then I say we give it a week or two for your diplomatic corps to give us some pointers, and make any advance calls that’ll help us. My team can survey reactions to first contact from our outpost, to shape our decisions. In the meantime, I can take the two of you to see Earth; to be the first Bissems on another planet, as our guests. Does that sound like a plan?” Dustin asked.
I composed myself, finding my resolve. “It does. Thank you for…giving us the full explanation, Dustin. We’re glad that Earth survived for us to visit.”
“We’re glad you’re willing to give us a chance, even after all that you’ve learned. I’m excited to see where our friendship will lead.”
General Naltor dipped his head in acknowledgment, before leading the human out of our conference—satisfied with the explanation of the galaxy’s history. I ensured that my expression didn’t betray shock or sorrow, before following the duo back toward the feast. The Selmer military official spotted a sniveling Haliska standing with a group of soldiers, and in a rare display of tact, he ferried her into the private room where we’d been: away from the feasting, cameras, and commotion. I tried not to slip into mourning for my dream, when there was still one prospect to be excited about. Friendly aliens had invited me to visit their planet, and that meant in a short time, I’d be standing on soil that was light years away from Ivrana!
Ingratiating ourselves to the Sapient Coalition might’ve become more daunting than it already was before, but with the fate of our homeworld on the line, I wasn’t backing away from the challenge.