Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic
Date [standardized human time]: November 29, 2136
The hospital was placed on lockdown, until every crevice was accounted for. Haysi was found barricaded in a janitor’s closet, requiring human volunteers to bust down the door. Venlil took charge of the situation from there, and escorted the historian back to proper lodgings. The predators stayed away, since the female rescue was inconsolable with them nearby.
Sara decided to give Haysi space, but asked Venlil helpers to leave a holopad in the room. The Terran scientist posited that a call was the best chance to plead her case. However, our most pressing priority was Glim; the exterminator was nowhere to be found. I could only imagine his reaction to what lurked outside these premises.
The UN has sent out search parties, but they’ve found nothing. We need to help.
At my request, a Venlil driver arrived to ferry us to the local extermination office. Noah suggested to start the search with Glim’s guild, and I agreed with his reasoning. However, barging into that venue with two famous humans would be awkward. UN representatives usually stayed out of the exterminators’ way; that avoidance was a two-way street.
“Noah, I’m begging you, please don’t stir up any trouble. We just want to find Glim,” I said.
The human snorted. “I’ll try. But I hate those people, and I won’t lie about it. I wish you’d dismantle their office.”
“Change happens slowly. I understand about obligate carnivores now; it’s not their fault. Still, I can’t take the risk of Venlil being hunted on the street.”
“I’m not saying to let predators roam your settlements! Even we wouldn’t, er, mostly. But driving entire species to extinction, burning them alive…”
“If you find an animal that you can guarantee won’t attack us, I’ll spare it. But lesser creatures don’t have your agency or restraint…and I can’t take chances. Now stop lecturing me. I never tell you what to do on your planet!”
Sara raised an eyebrow at our spat. The female human muttered something about ecological damage, and I pretended not to hear. While her personality was less confrontational, she had railed against exterminations to any scientific outlet that would listen. Her latest attempts included examples of human farmers enacting similar measures, and discussions of zoonotic diseases.
“Look, I’m sorry for lashing out,” I sighed. “But it can feel like humans are bossing the Venlil around, in our own backyard. We’re different than you, and the past few months have been a massive culture shock. I’ve shaken things up enough.”
Sara forced a smile. “We both understand that change doesn’t happen overnight, and that you can only rock the boat so much. Right, Noah?”
The male human struck a sullen pose, but nodded. “Sorry, Tarva. No problems with the exterminators; I promise.”
Noah opened the car door for me, while Sara occupied the front seat. It was a bit disturbing that the predators’ referred to that position as “shotgun.” Was it a standard practice to gun down passerbys, when motor vehicles were first invented on Earth? I didn’t understand why the preferrable seat was associated with a weapon.
Sara rotated a holopad in her hands, a sad look in her eyes. I could see she wanted to contact Haysi, but was afraid of worsening the situation. Our car sped off down the road, and I whacked my prosthetic tail against her seat. Her gaze darted back over her shoulder, locking with mine. Though their interactions spanned a day, it was apparent the human and Haysi had grown attached.
“Put your mask on, and try to talk to Haysi. I bet she’s scared silly, and losing any newfound hope of freedom,” I whispered. “You can’t hurt her through a call, right?”
The Terran scientist twisted her dark curls. “I don’t know. The way she looked at us…”
“I looked at you the same way when we first met, and now here I am, using Noah as a pillow. It’s worth a shot with Haysi. Have a little faith in her.”
Sara took a deep breath, and slipped her face covering back on. The ‘Gaian’ extended a video call to Haysi’s device, waiting with bated breath. The request went unanswered for agonizing seconds, and rang until reaching the default voicemail. It seemed the Venlil rescue wasn’t in a talking mood.
The scientist was quiet for a long moment, swallowing hard. The human steadied her face in the frame, and dialed the number once more. I waved in the background, hoping the preview would make Haysi curious. The voicemail began to play again, before coming to an abrupt halt.
A timid Venlil face appeared on screen. “Venlil Prime has f-fallen. I…should be…resigned t-to this. Why did you have…to give me hope?”
“Haysi, please, just hear me out. We’re here because our home was attacked. Our largest cities are destroyed,” Sara pleaded. “Governor Tarva was kind enough to take Gaian refugees, so we offered to help you as a way to give back. It’s not what you think.”
“I t-trusted you.”
“I am sorry you found out like this. The truth is, my species has forward-facing eyes, and we’re territorial. Because of those two things, everyone assumes we’re like the Arxur. Including the Arxur.”
“M-mask.”
“We wore the masks because we didn’t want to scare you. We’re aware how Venlil react to us. It wasn’t meant as deception.”
“No. T-take the mask off.”
Sara lowered her head, before reaching for the straps. She pulled the mask over her skull, and straightened her dark hair. The Venlil historian froze at the predatory creature on screen. The Terran scientist’s eyebrows knitted together with concern. Perhaps it was my imagination, but her binocular eyes seemed to tear up too.
Haysi pressed a paw to her mouth, squeaking incoherently. I could see her swoon on her feet, as the current of fear almost swept her away. When the rescue snapped out of her stupor, she lunged for the holopad. It was a blur of panicked motion, a scramble to terminate the call. There wasn’t a good-bye, or even a vocalization of her fear.
Well, that went poorly. Now our historian friend has a face to put with the nightmare.
With Haysi disconnecting, Sara cast a blank stare at her own reflection. I unclipped my seatbelt, hugging the predator from behind. Her lips curved upward, and she squeezed my paw. Noah offered a sympathetic smile, as he met his coworker’s eyes. These two humans were my closest friends; I didn’t want to see them hurt by Venlil.
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“Are you okay, Sara?” I signaled ‘I love you’ with my prosthetic, hoping the scientist had learned a bit of our tail language. “It’s not your fault.”
She offered a grateful nod. “I feel terrible for adding to Haysi’s trauma. Now, I’m just another monster to her. What she went through with the Arxur…she doesn’t need anything else to fear.”
“These people have serious issues, that have nothing to do with humans. You’re part of our society now. They’d have to learn to deal with you, regardless.”
Noah sighed. “I don’t know if we can ask them to deal with predators. It feels wrong. We remind them of a deeply traumatic experience.”
“Exactly. We have no right to force ourselves into their lives,” Sara agreed.
“Well, that’s a decision they can make for themselves,” I said. “Humans have been an immense help for this program, and you did nothing wrong. Venlil infrastructure would collapse without you chipping in.”
“It’s the least we could do, Tarva. We want the best for these people. Nobody deserves to be treated like an animal.”
The shriek of a siren pierced the air, as our vehicle neared the extermination office. Venlil wearing flameproof attire stood in a flatbed, with other equipment tucked behind them. A chill crept down my spine, wondering what they were responding to. Was there really a major infestation, so close to the capital? Government affairs might have to be placed on temporary hiatus, or moved to an emergency bunker.
The humans gazed out the window, expressions tinged with apprehension. Our stop was a building full of professionals, whose sole purpose was to wipe out predators. There was a reason I’d tried to keep the guild from interacting with UN personnel. The strongest opposition to the Terrans came from within exterminator ranks; Venlil Prime was a staging ground for their political statements.
When refugees from Earth first arrived, most ‘predator sightings’ turned out to be humans. Terrans were involved in isolated cases of petty crime, though nothing beyond Venlil malfeasance. Vandalism, assault, and robbery weren’t constructs of the primates.
However, witnesses had a tendency to phone exterminators about Terran criminals, rather than standard police. It was a miracle that none of the confrontations ended with a toasted human, so far.
I told the exterminators to defer details of human cases to police. To use guns, not flamethrowers, if necessary and unavoidable. The question is if everyone listens…
Sara grimaced. “Do you really think Glim is here?”
“Could be. Only one way to find out,” Noah answered.
I swished my prosthetic tail in agreement. “This wasn’t where Glim worked, but it would be a familiar place. Noah told him that exterminator was a controversial profession; he might seek answers from the guild.”
The chocolate-skinned human exited the vehicle, and I wriggled out behind him. The Terran ambassador took my paw in his hand, bringing me close. Sara fell in beside us as well, with a tentative smile. It was clear the predators wanted to show unity, since exterminators would be less hostile to their governor. Then again, I wasn’t a popular figure to their guild.
The exterminator’s workplace was modest from the outside. The stucco exterior was painted a neutral gray, which made the octagonal building look like a smokestack. The front door bore a “Now hiring” sign, along with a list of dangerous Earth animals to report. Some of the images sent a shudder down my spine; still, I was relieved to see that humans weren’t on this montage.
A Venlil was seated at the welcome desk, and she looked up as we entered the building. Her eyes widened at the two humans in her lobby.
“Ambassador Noah, Science Officer Sara, and Governor Tarva?” The Venlil exhaled in confusion, though she didn’t seem afraid. “This is a surprise. I’m Volek, with the public relations department. I’ll be happy to arrange a tour, if you’ll wait a moment.”
Noah scrunched his nose. “You’re used to seeing humans?”
“Of course. This is the capital of Venlil Prime, where most human refugees live. Many stop by to challenge or protest our work, and we hope they leave educated on the necessity of our services. We even hired a few Terrans for pest control: an interesting concept, by the way.”
“Hold on, Volek. You don’t want us all dead?” Sara asked.
“Not unless a specific human starts hunting here…ah, don’t worry about that. I’m sure that won’t happen, right? We’re a progressive office, so we’ve terminated any employees who discriminate against you. This month, we also implemented a total ban on flamethrowers against infant animals!”
The Terran astronauts looked flabbergasted, at a loss for words. Even I hadn’t heard that the extermination officers were recruiting human employees, and scaling back incendiary devices. Perhaps co-existence between the guild and the predators was possible. It just would take time for other Venlil outposts to fall in line.
Noah shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where was the truck we saw going?”
“Don’t get me started. We’ve told you people time and again not to bring your pets, and humans still sneak them in!” Volek flailed her tail in an animated gesture, before calming down. “Another report of a ‘cat’ loose on a street. Those things are monstrosities!”
“Wait. What is a cat?” I chimed in.
“One of the most invasive, destructive predators on Earth. If you get humans to be open, they’ll admit that cats have driven multiple species extinct. That felines hunt for fun, and are still common pets.”
My eyes widened in horror. The United Nations obscured the human penchant for entertainment animals during first contact; it only became known after widespread interactions with Terran civilians. Noah insisted the practice was about companionship and pack-bonding, with non-sapients. However, this cat didn’t sound anything like the innocuous descriptors he assigned to pets.
My expression morphed into a scowl. “Are you kidding me, Noah? Is this true?”
“Pretty accurate, yeah,” he grumbled.
Sara scratched her head. “I’m not even going to argue whether cats are a problem. Our own ecologists agree with Volek.”
“Then why do you keep them as pets?!”
“Because they’re cute and cuddly?” Noah offered.
I huffed in irritation. “I hate you.”
“Thanks.”
Volek gathered up some pamphlets, and acted bored by the response to the cat rationale. Noah’s answer must be standard for a human; it was baffling that our friends saw dangerous predators as cute. It defied all self-preservation that primates should possess. If their ancestors were prey, shouldn’t their instincts spark wariness of feral beasts?
“Here you go,” the exterminator said, passing the brochures out. “It’s a full explanation of the scope of our operations.”
Noah took a step back. “Thanks, Volek? Listen, we’re just here to ask you a few questions.”
“Happy to answer! Before you ask about me, I joined the guild ten years ago. We have a job that not many people want to do, but we know how integral we are to protecting our loved ones and our homes. Animal suffering is not the goal—”
“I’m sorry, we’ve gotten off-topic here. That’s completely on us. We’re looking for someone.”
The Terran ambassador swiped at his holopad, showing Volek a recent photograph of Glim. The public relations specialist studied the image, and her pupils lingered on his neck brand. Realization flashed in her gaze, as she put the pieces together. The cattle exchange was a publicized success story, with the credit attributed to Secretary-General Zhao.
Volek flicked her ears. “I don’t recognize him. This, um, rescue escaped? Why would you think he’s here?”
“Because Glim used to be an extermination officer,” Sara replied. “I don’t know how much he suspected us, but it was enough to run off. There’s no telling where he is, or what he’ll do.”
I cleared my throat. “Even if he’s not here now, it’s possible he’ll turn up. We’d appreciate your help.”
“Absolutely, I understand. I’d like a copy of your contact information, and that photo,” Volek said. “If any of our people see him, we’ll notify you.”
Noah nodded. “Thank you. I guess we’re back at square one.”
The Venlil straightened her tail, imploring the humans to wait. She scanned a map on her holodisplay, and zoomed in on the hospital. From there, the exterminator obtained a route to the closest public transportation. I watched with interest, as she selected a tram station.
Volek pointed with her tail. “If I were you, I would ask around here. Lots of people on the run try to get as far away as possible. But nobody is going to make it far on foot, of course; a mile is a miracle. Assuming Glim knows the capital’s layout, he might look for public transit.”
“That’s actually a good idea. Thanks,” Noah said.
Sara cleared her throat. “Volek, how did you arrive at that conclusion so fast?”
“We track a few people ourselves. Investigating reports of predator disease, you know.”
The male human gritted his teeth. “Yes, we do know. Let’s get going, Tarva.”
The Terrans departed the office, and we hustled back toward our vehicle. A few pedestrians spotted the most famous humans leaving the extermination headquarters. Noah and Sara paid no mind to the holopad photos taken of them. Both were used to stares, whenever they made an appearance.
The three of us hopped into the car, and set a course for the train station. If we didn’t locate Glim soon, he could wind up anywhere on the planet. The rescue would become untraceable, a needle in a vast haystack. Perhaps he would reunite with the less “progressive” extermination sects.
It wasn’t in humanity’s best interest to let a wild card slip away.