The Nature of Predators - Venlil Foster Program (1/2)
Table of Contents
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
Chapter 1
Memory transcription subject: Callsi, Venlil Bartender
Date [standardized human time]: October 15, 2136
The young Venlil sat at his desk, vibrant markers in paw. His cream-colored cowlick fell into his eyes, concealing the emotions in his horizontal pupils. It was striking how closely he resembled his father, down to the expression quirks. The drooping of his ears, which had grown too fast for his body, revealed when he was upset. That’s how I knew he was pouting now.
I idled in the doorway. “Jimek, you understand why we have to do this. Right?”
Jimek was twelve years old, more than two-thirds of the way to Venlil adulthood. The personnel at the pairing agency commented how they’d assign a similarly-aged predator. My boy was afraid that this human’s arrival would lead to more bullying, just at home. This was the only place he felt safe, with how cruel others were to him.
I knew he didn’t like to talk about the cuts on his upper lip, or the torn-up drawings he had in his school locker. There was nothing wrong with my son; he just liked to doodle and spend time in his own head. The other Venlil resented Jimek because he was talented and intelligent. How could I expect a soft-spoken child to hold his own, with a Terran? However much I needed the cash, I wouldn’t let this beast victimize my boy.
“Jimek, look at me.” I removed the marker from his grip, and peered down at his drawing. It was a blotchy sketch, abstract and full of anger. “Costs are rising, since we left the Federation. This program is the only way I can pay for your art classes.”
“I get it, Mom. But to have it living here, all the time…” he whined.
“Please don’t use ‘it’, sweetie. If the human feels discriminated against, we could be kicked out the program.”
“Discriminated against? The second he hears what people think of me, he’ll join right in. Meaner than them too.”
“I won’t let him terrorize you. We’ll keep the human as separate from us as possible, okay?”
My boy snatched his marker back, and returned to coloring in a huff. With Jimek’s emotions in shambles, I couldn’t process my own feelings about giving a predator a lair, in my home. The government’s presentation, persuading us to sign up, was rich with all the standard ‘Human Positivity.’ They provided every example of Terrans’ cross-species bonds, drilling home their empathy on repeat.
The transport service from Earth was supposed to arrive any minute. I made my way to the front door, and tried to keep myself from shaking. How certain was I that an immature predator could control themselves, living around prey all day? There wasn’t going to be any access to flesh meals, like this alien was reliant on.
It’s a crazy idea, to think Venlil can foster these things. I just need to save up money for a few weeks.
I stared out the window for several minutes. All I could imagine was forward-facing eyes, hovering over my son as he slept. As the van rolled up in my driveway, I knew that it was too late to turn back. The creature that hopped out was as tall as me, and he wasn’t a fully grown specimen. This was the first time I’d seen a human in person; even adolescents were terrifying.
The Terran child was sporting a visor, but I could tell that he was staring at our bungalow. My home was a modest dwelling, with crumbling siding and chipped paint; the predator must be judging us already. His furless hands carried a small bag, full of keepsakes from Earth. Had the Venlil government searched that case for weapons? Could I let this thing in without checking?
A Venlil officer scampered out of the vehicle, and urged the human along. The refugee seemed shy on approach, but he made it to my porch quick enough. The Venlil chaperone pulled my door-whistle, waiting with an expectant look. Steeling my nerves, I tugged open the door. Perspiration congealed on the predators’ pallid skin.
“Hello, Miss Callsi. This is Dustin Curtis, an orphan from the Canadian tribe.” The Venlil shoved a clipboard at me, and thrust a pen into my hands. “Sign here, and I’ll leave you to it.”
I inspected the document, recognizing this as my last chance to back out. Skimming the text, several worrying clauses popped out. For starters, it listed an agreement not to hold any government entity liable, should the predator cause ‘bodily harm’ during his stay here. It also stated that we were responsible to provide the same level of care as the law mandated for a Venlil.
The care officer tapped her foot impatiently, and I jotted a few scribbles onto the page. My heart was racing, with a human standing right across from me. I knew I was supposed to invite Dustin in, but the words wouldn’t come to me. The Venlil chaperone pushed the predator over the threshold, fearless to manhandle a beast. She clicked the door shut behind us, in a rush to move along.
Dustin shifted on his paws. “Um, hi.”
“Hi?” I squeaked. “L-let me s-show you…to…your lair.”
The human ducked his head, revealing a messy, brown mane. Freckles dotted his cheeks, unhidden due to a stark lack of fur. I tried not to look at him, and managed to stumble toward the back of the house. His chin swiveled from side-to-side, taking in the floral wallpaper and the indoor garden. His quietness was unnerving; it must be some form of calculation.
I took him to a storage room, which I’d cleared out enough to fit a water mattress. It was all I could do not to think about how Jimek would be sleeping two doors down the hall. That notion tempted me to throw Dustin out of my house, here and now. But if humans could control themselves during the exchange program, surely there wouldn’t be an immediate incident.
“Thanks.” The Terran tucked his bag on the floor, and coughed. “What are the house rules?”
“N-no drinking or drugs, c-clean up after yourself, no vulgarity, and show r-respect to me,” I answered shakily. “Also, you’re expected to work hard on your studies.”
Keep your visor on, and don’t interact with my son, I wanted to add.
Dustin tilted his head, with uncanny similarity to a Venlil. “Wait, I’m going to school, on Venlil Prime?!”
“Well, we all hope you’re not here long. Hopefully just a few days…d-depending what happens on Earth. But Tarva w-wants the kids to go to school, if you’re here m-more than a week,” I stammered.
“I understand. I’ll do whatever you tell me, ma’am.”
“Good. Well, I’m going to…s-serve d-dinner soon. Uh, you want some? It’s…salad…”
“Okay. I am kinda hungry.”
Panic swelled in my chest, as I wondered how long it’d been since the human had eaten. I sprinted into the kitchen, and pulled salad leftovers out of the fridge. I hurled shovelfuls into the bowl as quickly as I could; it struck me how inadequate this meal was. Alkaine was a popular leaf vegetable here, but greens couldn’t possibly be enough for him. The ulinberries added natural sugars, while the michin beans and cozan root offered fiber. Would this dish hold a candle to meat?
The Venlil government assured me that humans could subsist off an herbivore diet, for short durations. But even if Dustin could handle prey food for a day or two, he would start to crave flesh eventually. Was it a good idea to have an unsated predator eat around me? I made sure to serve the human double the portion I’d give Jimek.
I almost threw the dish on the table, ignoring the clang as it landed. The Terran orphan approached with caution, and watched as I scurried backward. I gestured to the plate, noticing how my ears were pinned against my head. The predator settled down by the salad, and stared at it for several seconds. He must be disappointed with this offering.
Dustin cleared his throat. “Um…do you have utensils?”
In my haste to serve the human food, I’d forgotten to give him cutlery. It was surprising that a predator wouldn’t just bury their face in the meal, and chow down with those suitable fangs. I retrieved a longpick with a shaking paw, handing the single-pronged device to the creature. Dustin accepted it slowly, and inspected it.
A relieved exhale trickled from my mouth, as the human stabbed through an alkaine leaf. It felt unnatural to see a predator consuming vegetation, especially when he didn’t spit it out. Trying to remember my manners, I retrieved a glass of isuel juice from the fridge. Venlil liked something to drink with meals, though it wasn’t clear if predators let flavors linger. I knew the Arxur liked to savor their kills.
“This is really good,” the human growled, through a mouthful of food. “Thank you.”
I quietly fixed helpings for Jimek and myself. “You’re w-welcome.”
“Ma’am, uh, am I bothering you by eating out here? I could go to my room if you prefer.”
The pamphlet says that ‘feasting’ is a human communal activity. Dustin could report solitary eating as abuse…we have to act normal.
“N-no, of course not. We Venlil, just, uh like to stand up.” I lied.
The human bobbed his shoulders. “Okay. I just feel like I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“Jimek? Dinner’s ready. Come out.”
The little Venlil shuffled into the kitchen, and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. He strayed as far from the table as he could, taking his salad bowl from me. I didn’t need to tell him not to sit with Dustin; Jimek leaned against the counter by me. My son picked at his food, tears swelling in his eyes. His pupils kept darting toward the leaf-eating Terran.
Dustin’s head swiveled with interest. “This is your son, Miss Callsi?”
“Yes…his name is Jimek,” I answered flatly.
“Hi Jimek. I’m Dustin. Thanks for letting me share your home.”
The little Venlil slammed his salad bowl down. “I don’t want you here! Go away!”
Before I could stop him, my son ran back to his bedroom. His dinner sat barely touched on the counter, and my sensitive ears could hear him bawling. Dustin flinched, before returning to his own food with less enthusiasm. The predator didn’t offer any further conversation; I think he’d picked up on my tentative approach.
My meal tasted bland and nauseating, with the amount of fear I was experiencing. Jimek had just gotten on the human’s bad side…he’d screamed at a predator. That all but guaranteed this creature was going to seek retribution, and turn his life into a living nightmare. It was foolhardy to lob such vitriol at Dustin. Now, I really hoped this alien was only here for a few days.
The Terran stood up from the table abruptly, and I startled. My own bowl tumbled out of my hands, spilling food all over the floor. I heaved an exasperated sigh, unable to cope with my terrifying reality. How could Governor Tarva send this thing to a school, around Venlil children? Did she want to traumatize the youth?
The human child lowered his head, and brought his bowl to the sink in silence. I was amazed to see he’d flown through the double-portion so quickly; he didn’t seem to be rushing. That revealed how much food could fit in those carnivorous jaws at once. Dustin rinsed out his dish, finding the soap under the sink without asking. He dried it with nimble hands, and shuffled off to his lair without a word.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I muttered to myself. “This is nothing like caring for a Venlil child.”
Ultimately, Dustin hadn’t done anything wrong. It was his mere presence that spooked me, not anything threatening about his actions. I needed to find a way to normalize and minimize our encounters; perhaps the child needed a violent hobby to occupy himself with. That might keep him out of our fur, other than for basic necessities.
I knelt on the floor, and cleaned up my salad with a sigh. The government stipends weren’t adequate compensation for this hassle, but I needed the cash. Other Venlil must have learned tolerance somehow. This human child was under my roof for a few days, at least, and I had to find a way to smooth things over between us.
A/N
The promised new miniseries, following the 'Venmom' bartender from Part 82! Callsi takes in Dustin to save for Jimek's art school, but her bullied son is less than thrilled about the idea. How can our human makes in-roads with his hosts?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Chapter 2
Memory transcription subject: Callsi, Venlil Bartender
Date [standardized human time]: October 20, 2136
The human confined himself to his room of his own volition, and we settled into an uneasy rhythm. I would bring Dustin meals and beverages at regular times, but he wouldn’t give any acknowledgment. Sure enough, the bowls would disappear when I wasn’t watching. I’d find plates sitting empty in the hallway, or clumsily rinsed out in the bathroom sink. I also brought him a box of snacks, just in case he got hungry before meals.
Today was the true test, as I had no choice but to return to work. I’d drained my sick time to surveil the human, and my coworkers were tired of covering my shifts. That meant leaving the predator unattended, with no one to make sure he didn’t delve around our possessions. I thought about padlocking him in his room, but that seemed harsh. What if there was an emergency?
When the mass transit dropped me off, in the outer-ring suburbs, I sprinted back to my home. It wouldn’t have surprised me to find the place wrecked, or for Dustin to have caught some prey in the backyard. No matter what, I had to be home before Jimek returned from school; the bus’ return time coincided with my own. My son couldn’t be alone with a predator.
Faint vibrations hit my ears from the driveway, and I worried startling the predator would trigger his fight reflex. I crept in through the front door, careful not to make any sudden noises. Dustin’s hair was visible above the couch; his eyes must be glued to the screen. I cringed as I realized he was watching a rerun of The Exterminators.
The Harchen investigator fiddled her papers. “The Sivkits wander from world to world. It was a matter of time before they stumbled across something they couldn’t handle.”
“So you’re telling me this colony beast has gained a rudimentary sapience?” the male strategist replied.
“It built a hut out of bones, Fibalo. This is like the human situation all over again: primitive filth starting to spread.”
“Then they’ll kill themselves off, same as the apes. Predators are aggressive and self-destructive, and—”
Jimek slammed the door upon his entry, and nearly bowled me over. The human startled at the noise, like he’d been caught doing something wrong. Dustin bolted off the couch, receding into his lair. Orange droplets hit the tile behind me, and I swiveled around to face my son. Terror rushed through my veins, as I remembered life-fluids attracted predators.
The little Venlil’s cheeks were tear-stained, and I coaxed him to sit on the floor. Checking that the predator didn’t circle back, I fetched a first aid kit. The blood stemmed from Jimek’s ear; it looked like someone deliberately raked claws across his soft flesh. My heart cracked, dabbing the wound with a dry cloth.
“Why do they hate me?” Jimek croaked.
I ruffled his beige cowlick. “Because they’re awful. Who did this to you? We should report them for predator disease.”
“NO! D-don’t. I tried that, and now it’s…worse.”
I wrapped a swath of bandages around his ear, and watched as the gauze took an orange tinge. Thinking quickly, I grabbed strong-smelling pilamon herb, and threw a pawful on his ear. Jimek made a face, but didn’t question disguising the blood scent. He was always an intelligent kid.
Chills danced across my neck, whispering that I was being watched. Those instincts existed to caution my ancestors of a predator’s eyes on them. Swiveling toward my blind spot, I spotted Dustin peering around a wall. The human was scouting a potential target! He scampered away, once he realized he’d been spotted.
“Go to the kitchen, Jimek, and dial the exterminators if I don’t come back,” I whispered. “If the human comes at you, you run. Understand?”
My son nodded. “Yes, mom. Why don’t we call the officers now?”
“I don’t want to kill Dustin. Maybe I can work him down from the blood frenzy. He’s been harmless otherwise.”
“He’s intrigued by this. He thinks it’s hilarious that I’m hurt!”
“Did he say that?”
“No, but—”
“Have you even spoken to him?”
“No, of cour—”
“Wait here, Jimek. I love you.”
Mustering up my courage, I strolled toward the human’s den. After the abysmal results to the Battle of Earth, it was unlikely that Dustin could be sent home any time soon. The city of Montreal was leveled, and unfortunately for me, that was the location of his orphanage. For stars’ sake, the creature was supposed to start school in two days. How could I send him there, after seeing him drawn to Jimek’s blood?
I don’t know how long we’re supposed to keep him around, I thought. The government is following up in a week, but that’s awhile away.
I creaked open the storage closet, and Dustin’s head popped off the pillow. He wasn’t wearing his visor, which gave me my first glimpse at his face. Other Venlil had described that initial feeling in their interviews, but the sensation was irrepressible. Imminent peril was communicated by his gaze; humans had evolved so their eye movements were particularly visible. Unnatural white framed blue irises, and dark pupils were nestled at the center.
Fear chemicals rushed to my head, and I swayed on my feet. The next thing I knew, I was splayed out on the floor. Panic quickened my breathing, as I realized the predator’s shadow hung over me. Dustin was already triggered by the blood incident, and now, he had an unconscious Venlil collapsing in his territory. My pupils darted up, expecting to see slobber oozing from his lips.
Instead, I saw the human had retrieved his visor. His nimble hand landed on my shoulder, and his own demeanor seemed alarmed. Dustin fell back onto the water mattress, burying his face in his hands. Was that my imagination, or were tears seeping under the visor? The Terran child was…upset?
“I’m sorry for spying on you, and watching the TV,” he sniffled. “I d-don’t wear the visor in here.”
I struggled upright, calming my breathing. “Of course…you…you d-don’t. I intruded on your privacy…I s-should’ve knocked.”
“I just wanted to see if Jimek is ok. I didn’t mean anything by it, but everything is ruined now. You’re going to send me back, like everyone else!”
“What? What do you mean, ‘like everyone else?’”
“You think I haven’t bounced from foster home to foster home? My own parents dropped me outside the local police station, and left without a word. It’s my fault. Nobody wants me. Nobody loves me!”
Dustin was becoming hysterical, with his cheeks turning a flushed red. Full-throated sobs racked his chest, broken up by the occasional gasp for air. Tears were flowing nonstop, while mucus bubbled within his long nose. The sudden burst of emotion surprised me, and I tried to process what he just said. Pity clenched at my chest, thinking of him as a child who felt abandoned and unloved.
I seated myself on the edge of the bed, and shoved my fear down. Dustin was right; I’d been planning to get rid of him at the first opportunity. All of a sudden, that notion brought a tinge of guilt. Reaching out with a shaking paw, I wrapped an arm around his neck. My heart hammered, but I tugged the predator’s head against my fur.
The human hesitated, before he squeezed back. “I’m sorry for scaring you, Callsi.”
“No…I’m sorry, Dustin. I’ve never seen human eyes before,” I whispered. “But you don’t need the visor in my house.”
I released him from our embrace, and noted that his crying had died down. My paw extended cautiously, lifting the cold metal off his forehead. His binocular eyes were red with irritation, while a coating of saline threatened to spill over. My brain screamed that this was a predator, but my empathetic side ached at his sorrow. I slowly pressed my pads against his eyelids, and wiped the tears away.
The human drew a shuddering breath, curling up next to me. For the first time, I tried to look at the alien. We’d driven a child to hide away in his room, and made no attempts to include him in our activities. Every action he took was put under a microscope; Jimek and I were waiting for him to snap. Meanwhile, Dustin had no emotional support, as he learned that his planet had lost hundreds of cities.
It was time to start treating the Terran like an actual member of the family. My son wouldn’t appreciate this change of heart, but it was the right thing to do. I wasn’t pleased about an innocent kid crying because of me. Dustin didn’t deserve to internalize such negative emotions, and to feel as though he didn’t belong here. Predator or not, his words were eerily Venlil-like.
“I was going to fix some jams and veggies for dinner. You want to help set up?” I asked.
Dustin eyed me warily. “Yeah, I would. Is Jimek alright? You never told me.”
“Jimek…is fine. The kids at school are horrible to him. He’s quiet and bright, with creativity to boot. They know he’s going somewhere, and they envy that.”
“They’re physically harming him! That’s a lousy way to feel better than someone. Teachers, parents…someone should intervene.”
“Jimek says they don’t. They don’t care.”
The human was silent, a brooding look on his face. We made our way to the kitchen, where a panicked Jimek clutched his holopad. I issued a frantic gesture to put it down, and the Venlil squeaked at the beast’s unmasked eyes. Betrayal sparked in his gaze, as I began tail signaling my message.
Predator eats with us. Be nice, I signed.
Jimek shuddered. No! Refuse!
I sighed aloud. “Jimek, sit down at the table and behave. You’ll do what I say, or you won’t go to art school.”
“The only reason we got this thing is for art school! Why are you being like this?” he hissed.
“You don’t talk back to me! You will not be rude to Dustin again. Are we clear, young man?!”
“I hate you!”
My son stormed over to the table, and glared out the window. Dustin’s eyes had gone wide, but I steered the human into the pantry. My paws opened several jars of jam, and I instructed the human to put a few dollops on each plate. It felt unnatural to order a predator around, even if this one was obedient.
After accruing some vegetables for dipping, I carried the plates to the table. I seated Dustin next to me, but opposite from Jimek’s position. In hindsight, I realized that may not have been the best idea. That left the binocular eyes staring right at my son. The human cautiously settled down, and dug into his food.
“I don’t want it.” Jimek pushed his plate away, and his body shook with fear. “The predator touched it.”
Dustin crunched down on a veggie stick. “Your mom asked me to help. Listen, I’m only here because I have nowhere else to go. I can’t live on my own.”
“They were supposed to find somewhere else, and get rid of you soon. My school doesn’t need more predators.”
“I heard what happened today. I’m sorry.”
“Predatorshit! You might fool my mother with your act, but I know what you’ll do when no one’s looking!”
I slammed a paw on the table. “Dustin hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s a guest in our house, and you’ll treat him as such.”
“Mom—”
“The human is going through a lot too, and he didn’t take it out on you. You know my rule about cursing. On second thought, go to your room and think about what you’ve done.”
Jimek wriggled out of his chair, and shot a look of absolute loathing at the Terran. I was surprised Dustin hadn’t reciprocated the hostility, but I couldn’t count on him to tolerate insults forever. I was responsible for the predator’s emotional welfare too. But my son came first, even if he was the instigator; that left me with a serious conundrum.
There were also concerns about how the human would fare when he was whisked off to school. Education was important for children, but bonding with Venlil would be difficult. It wasn’t clear what his prior academia consisted of; our curriculum might be foreign to him. For all I knew, Terran schools consisted of war strategy and projectile physics classes.
I needed to broach the subject in a tactful, inoffensive way. There were two days to ensure he was prepared.
“What was your favorite class back home?” I asked.
Dustin licked jam off his fingers. “Art, I guess. We had a cool teacher.”
“I’m not talking about extracurricular activities, darling. What about your actual education?”
“I…don’t follow. That was the class we had right after lunch, before chemistry.”
“Art, taught alongside sciences? You’re saying it was graded like other subjects?”
“Uh, yeah. Did I say something wrong?”
I leaned back in my chair, mystified by the human’s claim. “No. I’m just surprised art would be mandatory for you. It’s creative…it’s recreation.”
It made little sense that predators would instruct all children in creative endeavors. Shouldn’t they be more pragmatic than us, in teaching skills that were important to society? Only Venlil with a passion for the subject, and a means to pay for it, received artistic training. It would cost a pretty credit for Jimek to enhance his abilities.
Admittedly, there was something idealistic about all children being taught art. It meant humans considered creative expression important on their world, and labeled it a valuable skill to teach to their offspring. Perhaps these predators did appreciate natural beauty. It was clear they honed emotional values from birth, to develop away from militarism.
Dustin might have the complexity to thrive in Venlil schools after all.
A/N
Part 2 of the miniseries! With Dustin's introduction to school imminent, Callsi learns of his heartbreaking insecurity. The foster mom attempts to treat him as a normal kid, but Jimek still openly despises him. Will the bullied Venlil ever warm to a predator?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Chapter 3
Memory transcription subject: Callsi, Venlil Bartender
Date [standardized human time]: October 22, 2136
It was my foster son’s first day of Venlil education. I’d packed Dustin and Jimek matching lunches, and sent them on their way. I intended to work my normal shift, and rendezvous with both children at home. However, fate interrupted my simplistic plan.
When the school called to tell me that there was a problem with Dustin, I expected him to have scared some poor Venlil. It wasn’t the best idea to expose children to humans without any buildup. I heard several parents objected to having their kids in the same classes as a predator. Even the staff were leery, uncertain how to protect students in the event of a hunting episode.
What I saw when I arrived at the school was nothing so mundane. Police and exterminators were forming a perimeter, and herding terrified Venlil out of the building. Parents were rushing to pick up their kids, and news cameras captured the scene. I could see flashing lights outside the administration office, though I didn’t have the depth perception to determine which emergency service it was.
Other human children had been quarantined with their belongings, and I could see the fear on their faces. Exterminators were holding them hostage, speaking in agitated voices. Panicked UN peacekeepers were on the scene too, demanding to know why flamethrowers were pointed at Terran kids.
“The fuck is wrong with you? Nobody threatens our children!” one peacekeeper roared.
A Venlil exterminator stood his ground. “There’s been a predator attack. We’re conducting an investigation.”
“Your investigation is shit. Were these humans here involved in any way?”
“W-well, we don’t think so—”
“Let the kids go, or I’ll show you a predator attack! And if you ‘put down’ the one who was involved, God help me…I’ll bash your fucking skull in.”
It chilled my bones to hear a “friendly” predator threatening to attack, even if I chalked it up to protectiveness. Dustin was notably absent from the Terran pack…and I couldn’t see Jimek anywhere either. I would’ve normally been worried for my foster child, but all I could think about was Jimek. Terror filled my chest, as I wondered what happened to him.
Sprinting closer to the school, I could see that the flashing lights were from an ambulance. What if Jimek had been right, about his weakness provoking Dustin into attacking him? Had the human sought my son out the moment I was not around…right after I let my guard down?
A Venlil kid was lying on a stretcher, and paramedics tended to him. To my relief, the charcoal-colored fur showed this was not Jimek. His jaw had been bashed out of place; it was crooked and stuck agape. Orange blood was smattered all over his features, like he’d been mauled.
Had one of the humans really done this to him? These Terrans were just children, but perhaps Predator Disease had slipped through the cracks. There were rumors that those ailments could fester in their genes too. It couldn’t have been our Dustin, launching an unprovoked assault. He was no raving psychopath; someone else had committed this unthinkable attack.
Maybe Dustin intervened, and got into a sparring match with a more violent predator. Stars, I hope he’s okay!
“The b-beast came…out of nowhere,” a witness gulped, recounting her own tale. “It had Cylek p-pinned before we c-could react. It w-wouldn’t stop.”
The exterminator taking her statement jotted something down. “How did you get the human off of him?”
“It just went b-ballistic! It was s-screaming obscenities…threatening us. It s-stopped to chase me, ‘cause I f-froze…”
“It’s okay, you poor thing. Do you remember anything else?”
“It seemed tireless. But the p-predator had turned a little red, and it clutched its hand l-like it was hurt. It stopped chasing me…and w-went back for Jimek.”
My eyes widened in panic, and I barreled into the administrative office. My parental instincts screamed to get Jimek away from the threat, if there was any safe option. If my son wasn’t outside with the other victims, did that mean he was eaten alive? What if there was nothing left of his body, or he was dead?
The receptionist shouted at me, pleading for my presence in a locked office. I didn’t register her words, instead following where she pointed to. Chairs and tables were jammed against the door handle, forming a haphazard barricade. My heart sank even further, as I peered through a window. This had to be a nightmare.
Dustin was locked inside a nurse’s room, and was holding one hand with gingerness. Orange blood was smeared across his pelts, sickening me to my stomach. Some had splattered onto his face, while his mane was bedraggled from the scuffle. This looked like a wild hominid back from his first hunt; it couldn’t be more true to my worst imaginings.
Why had Dustin gone after some random Venlil? What had he done to my Jimek, after he finished mangling Cylek’s jaw?
The human child leapt to his feet, as his paralyzing eyes spotted me. He walked up to the glass, and I could faintly make out him shouting my name. The beast was deploying the piteous act, but that wasn’t enough to override his bloodstained appearance. His hands reached out to me; however delicate those puny fingers looked, it was clear the predator could do serious damage with them.
The school receptionist whimpered. “C-callsi, p-please…do something. It’s your house g-guest. Get t-the predator out of here.”
“I want him sent back! I’m done with the program!” I screeched, in a hyperventilating panic. “I don’t know what happened, but I just want to see Jimek.”
“T-take the predator off our p-property, and you can d-do whatever you want with it. Please. There’s k-kids here.”
“One of those kids is my son, and I’m taking him! I tried to include the human in our activities. I trusted Dustin, and he proves he’s a violent, unhinged beast on day one! WHERE IS JIMEK?”
I noticed the Terran backing away from the glass pane, and slumping into a chair. The human was careful to flinch at my words, trying to sow seeds of guilt. But all I felt toward the creature was disgust. This was why predators were all dangerous, and why it was folly to treat them like Venlil. Perhaps the first contact astronauts had been manipulating Tarva’s empathy, just like Dustin played me.
This was my fault, for not listening to Jimek’s repeated fears about sheltering a human. Why had I thought any government stipend was worth endangering my son? I’d signed away my right to demand compensation for any ‘bodily harm’ on the first day. A better mother would’ve found another way to afford art school. It was hubris to think I could manage a wild animal for weeks.
“J-Jimek is in the break room. T-two doors to your right, down the hallway,” the Venlil receptionist stammered.
I followed her directions, and shot occasional glances back to ensure Dustin’s barricade held. Fear consumed my thoughts, without a clue what condition my son was in. There was no chance he’d survived a predator attack unscathed, but I hoped he’d escaped permanent damage. Before I could reach my son, the front entrance crashed open. Human barks echoed behind me, along with the screams of fleeing Venlil staff.
My instincts told me to join the stampede, since I would be the only Venlil left in the vicinity. But I wrestled against the itch in my paws; I’d never forgive myself if I left my child behind. My body was shaking uncontrollably, as I flung open the break room door. Jimek was curled up on a cot, with his tail twitching in his sleep. That told me he was alive…and all I saw was a reopened wound on his ear.
“Jimek!” I cried in relief. “I’m so happy you’re okay!”
The Venlil popped his head up. “M-mom? Where’s Dustin?”
“I’m s-so, so sorry I let him into our lives. You were right, about everything. Please forgive me.”
“What are you talking about? The human saved me. See, I’m fine!”
“You’re not thinking clearly. Let’s get out of here; t-there’s soldiers breaking in here now.”
The little Venlil looked confused, but hopped onto his feet. I hugged him closer to me, unwilling to let go of him for any predator. If my higher brain functions were lost to a stampede, I didn’t want to take the chance of losing Jimek. We would run from the humans together, though perhaps I should stay cogent long enough to appeal to their ‘empathy.’
Two predators in UN gear, whose heads were ducked awkwardly to avoid the ceiling, wrenched the barricade away like it was nothing. The only species I could think that was taller than them were the Mazics; the caloric needs of large animals were staggering. That was some indicator of just how much hominids hunted, and was why I’d fed Dustin massive portions.
Still hunched over, one of the Terrans took a running start. The beast seemed a bit winded, perhaps slowed by the strain of our gravity. Their foot planted against the wooden frame, like they expected to demolish structures with pure strength. Even without full lung capacity, the human kicked the door off its hinges with ease. I stood no chance of fending off such a creature.
Another human tensed her grip on a weapon, and glared at me. “Who the fuck are you?”
“P-please let us go! Your hellspawn attacked my s-son!” I wailed. “W-who the fuck are you?”
The beast relaxed slightly. “Lisa Reynolds, with the UN’s Venlil Prime Response Team. You can leave.”
The UN soldiers escorted Dustin into the lobby, after checking him for injuries. I gawked as the bloodstained beast staggered just meters away, and avoided eye contact with me. Jimek wriggled out of my grip, while I was distracted by the Terran adult interrogating me. The little Venlil ran toward the predator child, which almost stopped my heart. I swooned, as Jimek wrapped his arms around Dustin.
What on Venlil Prime is he doing? Why is he not more frightened, after this predator just mauled other kids?
“Thank you,” my son sniffled. “Nobody ever sticks up for me. I don’t know what they would’ve done to me.”
Dustin patted Jimek’s neck gently. “Don’t mention it. Those assholes got what was coming to them. I just wanted to protect you…”
Peacekeeper Reynolds squinted at me. “You all know each other?”
“They’re my, uh, foster family. Not anymore, I guess.”
My fear was mixed with utter confusion, watching the exchange between Jimek and Dustin. Was my son implying that the Terran child attacked Cylek, because of a bullying incident? That wasn’t exactly what I wanted from Dustin; this was a vicious, horrendous assault. However, if it was the predator-diseased mongrels that tormented my son, I felt a lot less sorry for them.
The massive soldiers traipsed around the office, and bumped into a lot of objects. It was amusing how clumsy they were in tight spaces; they probably couldn’t chase any Venlil around our buildings. One male human with glasses tapped at a computer, which the fleeing receptionist had abandoned. He shouted something about security footage, and tapped away at the keys.
“Let’s see what happened here,” Lisa muttered. “Do you want to see, Miss…?”
“Callsi.”
Despite the screaming of my instincts, I crept closer to the alien hunters that could end my existence with ease. The Terran with the glasses was scrubbing the footage, and rewound to the incident’s context. I watched with interest, trying not to think about Jimek and Dustin mingling together. My son showed no inclination to separate from the predator.
The footage was a welcome distraction, though not a pleasant scenario to behold. Cylek was laughing maniacally, as he twirled a knife in his paws. The female child who’d been giving the witness statement was there too, and she was circling a building pillar in a predatory way. I could see a sobbing Jimek tied to the support, begging them to stop. The bullies crouched beside him, and inspected the scar on his ear.
“I don’t think I finished the job,” Cylek cackled. “I think I’m going to carve my name this time, Remsi.”
The female Venlil flicked her ears. “I’d like to practice my art on his other ear. Isn’t that what Jimek likes? Art?”
Remsi tugged a sketchbook from Jimek’s knapsack, and began ripping out the pages one-by-one. My son screamed at them to stop, while the tears quickened. My heart twisted, witnessing their cruelty firsthand. I had no idea the bullying was this severe; it was unfathomable that someone would do this to my baby. On second thought, I had zero sympathy for these monsters.
Other Venlil goaded the instigators on, with a few filming on their holopads. Cylek traced the knife across my son’s scar tissue, and the bindings prevented Jimek from thrashing. The bully was basking in the limelight, not rushing a moment. I noticed the UN soldiers’ expressions becoming increasingly predatory and grotesque.
Dustin appeared on camera, sprinting with surprising speed for a gangly creature. The human hit Cylek with a full-body tackle, and twisted his wrist so the knife was dropped. He looked like a terrifying fiend, a visceral snarl on his face. The Terran rained haymakers on the downed Venlil, whaling his jaw without relenting.
“Why don’t you…gah, pick on someone your own…size!” the predator grunted, between punches.
Cylek screamed with pure terror, and tried to shield his face. One of the Venlil bystanders, who’d been cheering on Jimek’s torment seconds earlier, went to pull Dustin away. The human slid his backpack down his arm in one fluid motion, and swung it with impossible speed. It clobbered the interloper in the head, knocking him out with a hard reset.
The Terran child abandoned Cylek, satisfied with him whimpering on the floor. His head snapped around in an unnerving gesture, and those binocular eyes scanned for his next prey. He saw Remsi holding Jimek’s sketchbook, and bolted after her. The Venlil scrambled backward, surrendering the drawings to the beast.
“D-don’t eat me!” she mewled.
Dustin shoved her to the ground. “You ever mess with Jimek again, and I will END YOU! You fucking understand?”
The female Venlil cowered, and slunk away as soon as the predator turned his back. The Terran untied Jimek, returning the sketchbook to him. The little Venlil was unresponsive, and concern was visible in my foster child’s eyes. Dustin carried him toward the nurse’s office, which must’ve been how they ended up here.
None of Jimek’s wounds were caused by Dustin. I…I should’ve never said those things about the human, I lamented to myself. He deserves a better guardian.
“Let me say, Dustin Curtis, you just created one hell of a diplomatic mess. But in my book, you did a good thing.” Lisa Reynolds crossed her arms, leaning against the wall to lower her height. “Bondarenko, download that footage. We want a copy of it.”
The predator with the glasses obliged the order. “Yes, ma’am. What now?”
“We should take him to the embassy, until we sort this shit out. If I understand correctly, Callsi wishes to relinquish custody of the kiddo.”
“No!” I yelped hastily. “Please, d-don’t take Dustin away.”
Bondarenko adjusted his glasses. “You just called him a ‘hellspawn.’”
“I’m sorry…it all looked terrible. Jimek was hurt, there was an ambulance with a mangled kid and witnesses, and Dustin was covered in blood. I didn’t mean it. If he c-can’t forgive me…I’ll help find him a new home. I’m really sorry for what I said; I wasn’t thinking.”
The Terran child shrugged. “I’ve heard worse, Callsi. I understand, er, and I know I’m a burden. But I don’t wanna move again.”
The UN peacekeepers exchanged glances, before beckoning toward the exit. Jimek wrapped his bushy tail around Dustin’s wrist, and the human seemed taken aback. I don’t think he had a clue how to respond. The skin around his knuckles was red, indicating the force of his punch. The Venlil staff here hadn’t offered ice to ease the swelling.
The human soldiers were pushing the pace, however, not leaving me time to root out any supplies. The giant predators were sending chills down my spine, but I didn’t want them to leave me behind. I might never see Dustin again. As the Terran warriors hustled toward their van, I stuck close to them. They took care to avoid reporters, and ward off potentially hostile Venlil.
Guilt threatened to swallow me whole, as we slid into the backseat. No matter what I saw back there, it was unthinkable to assume the timid orphan was a cutthroat predator. The hurtful words I’d spoken could never be rescinded. It was my responsibility to make up for my failures, and earn Dustin’s trust again.
A/N
Part 3 of the miniseries! Dustin's first day of school ends with an extreme emergency response, after he smacks down Jimek's bullies. While Callsi regressed to old thought patterns, the Venlil kid seems to be won over. Will our foster family be able to unify after this incident?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Chapter 4
Memory transcription subject: Callsi, Venlil Bartender
Date [standardized human time]: October 22, 2136
It was suffocating to be trapped in an enclosed space with predators, while coasting along Venlil roads. The UN soldiers had a vehicle that drove itself, without any user input. Automated functions were one thing, but humans entrusting all decisions to a machine didn’t sit right with me. Then again, with their limited field of vision, I didn’t want them behind the wheel.
Dustin watched as Jimek shared his drawings, and took particular interest in one of himself. Something about the sketch was amusing to him, judging by the low growls. The Canadian orphan pulled a pencil from his book bag, and hastily sketched out a human face. I was impressed with the crude likeness he conjured; it was clear the predator enjoyed drawing too.
“See the difference? You have my teeth pulled back to the gums, not a gentle smile. And you didn’t give me any eyelids, bro,” Dustin chuckled.
Jimek inspected the sketch. “I…I was trying to show you were mean. It’s a little uncanny to draw humans, anyways.”
“Maybe you should draw the eyes last? Or you can try tracing actual photos of humans, so it becomes memory.”
“Good idea, thanks. You’re actually pretty good at drawing.”
“The only thing I have from my dad…it’s a coloring book. I still have it. I should hate art, but it’s the only thing that makes me feel less alone.”
Pity clenched at my heart, hearing his voice crack. Dustin had voiced that he felt unloved earlier, and I’d given those insecurities a basis at the school. I wanted to say that I loved him, but it would be dishonest. It would take time to learn how to accept him, predatory traits and all. My silence was deafening, as Jimek moved his tail back to Dustin’s wrist.
Lisa’s head swiveled around to the kid, startling me. “If you ever need company, come ask for us at the embassy. We’re all here. You’d have to put up with Oleksiy and his tin foil hat though.”
Bondarenko straightened his glasses. “UFOs are real. The Federation visited us, and obviously, they started abducting humans. They probed us because we’re predators!”
“You think those cowards would abduct us? I’m more likely to believe they killed specimens.”
“I’m sure they did that too. The point is, a few ships crashed along the way; humankind knew they were observing us. The question is why the government covered it up. The deep state knew everything.”
“And that’s why they were completely unprepared for the Krakotl attack? Earth is literally burning now.” Reynolds snorted to herself, before snarling at the kids. “Dustin, you see, however hopeless things seem, at least you’re a sane guy. I’ll give you my number if you ever want to talk to someone.”
“Me too. I can teach you the truth!”
I tilted my head in confusion, wondering if what Oleksiy said had any truth to it. Had the Federation actually experimented on humans? It didn’t sound like something we would do; the prey species were more interested in bombing Earth than learning about them. If it wasn’t true, that meant Terrans invented tales of aliens kidnapping them with a twisted imagination.
Perhaps the stories were far-fetched exaggerations, but we had visited them during their industrial era. It was possible a primitive human sighted our crafts, and the legends spiraled downhill from there. The Federation might’ve influenced the predators’ culture without ever contacting them. I hadn’t expected Terrans to be so obsessed with extraterrestrial life.
Dustin bared his teeth. “Why would the Federation probe us, Olek? They just, um, want us dead. They hate us.”
“They sure do! The Federation was testing how to kill us properly, and probing our genes for anything that helped,” the male soldier replied. “If you want to make better rat poison, what do you do? Test it on rats!”
A sick analogy. Why are they making poison for rodents?
Dustin raised his eyebrows. “…okay, but how do you know it wasn’t the Arxur beaming us up? I mean, the aliens in the stories were literally called the grays. It could be them, testing if we’re predators.”
“You’re right…could be! I didn’t think of that,” Olek replied. “The Arxur mighta got inconclusive results, so they wouldn’t tell their government about us. That tells us why UFOs travel alone too.”
Reynolds heaved an exasperated sigh. “Well, you two just hit it off. For the last time, UFOs were spy planes and drones! Militaries test technology.”
“I don’t understand half of what you’re saying, but the grays definitely didn’t visit you. They would’ve enslaved or eaten you,” I offered.
“See? And we’re here, so everyone be on your best behavior. Act normal or something?”
The chatter died down, as Lisa flashed her credentials at the UN embassy gate. The chancery’s architecture was harsh and angular, a stout contraption that was made for functionality alone. Even the exterior color was a boring silver, apart from a blue icon of Earth’s continents. The main complex’s annexes seemed like living areas, where humans exhibited more casual behavior. Armed predators waved us on, but I noticed their thick torso armor with unease.
Did fights regularly break out on human turf? This was the beasts’ corner of our world. It was foolish of me to accompany Dustin here; it was likely Jimek and I would be the only Venlil on the premises. We would be trapped in the embassy, at the mercy of some bickering soldiers. At least the Terrans seemed chill enough, for now.
“How d-do we get Dustin back to school?” I asked.
Reynolds scratched her scalp. “Fuck if I know. Right now, we’re trying to keep him out of prison…or worse. Have to wait ‘til this works its way up to Governor Tarva.”
“What?! T-the leader of your planet is involved? I just punched one kid who deserved it,” Dustin muttered.
Bondarenko bobbed his shoulders. “That’s why we downloaded the footage. A look at that should squash the ‘predator attack’ nonsense. Just need to give us time.”
I hovered close to Dustin, as the soldiers showed us inside the embassy chancery. Artwork was placed around the entryway, alongside photographs and factoids about Earth. Jaw-dropping canyons, snow-capped mountains, and ancient buildings presented a pleasant view of the predators’ world. It saddened me to think of the antimatter strikes against their home.
The Terrans had constructed a memorial wall for their staff, with a plaque that read “In Loving Memory” in Venlil and human script. Flowers lined the floor, placed there as a gorgeous tribute to the dead. Tears swelled in my eyes, touched by the sentimentality. I felt sorrow for a world I was afraid of, and truly grasped the suffering these people endured.
The raw statistics weren’t just a staggering number, and this display reminded me that each monster was a feeling sapient. Every human had a lot more on their minds than hunger; they had families and friends. The predators weren’t built as differently if I imagined. I didn’t know how the UN Peacekeepers were able to carry on, after the magnitude of the tragedy they faced.
I couldn’t dwell on the names and images taped to the memorial wall; it put the incalculable number of deaths into faces. There were kids who looked younger than Dustin up there. There were predator couples sitting together on beaches, and large friend groups at social gatherings. The way humans mourned for the fallen couldn’t be more different than the Arxur.
“I’m sorry about Earth,” I said sincerely. “I hope your families are safe.”
Reynolds lowered her head. “Me too. My sister was studying in Barcelona, but I’m not putting her picture up there. We don’t know that she’s dead, and I’m not giving up on her.”
“Maybe she went back to the States, when she heard about the attack,” Olek offered.
“Yeah…but enough about me. We’re here for the kid.”
The lumbering predator continued onward without a word. I ruffled Dustin’s hair protectively, and the orphan shied away on instinct. While the kid had no family to call his own, Montreal, the place he grew up, was obliterated. His friends and teachers, and the scenery he was familiar with, were lost forever. If his orphanage wasn’t sent to Venlil Prime, he would be scattered to ashes too.
Jimek seemed attached to Dustin at the hip, matching his steps. I’d been concerned about a human living near a Venlil child, but that worry was based on preconceived notions. I was glad to see the two kids bonding, over their shared love of art and their isolation. My son needed a friend, and I just hoped he wouldn’t scare the Terran off with his clinginess.
Reynolds continued to walk us through the facility, and explained that Ambassador Noah’s office was on the second story. Bondarenko shared conspiratorial whispers about how an astronaut became lead diplomat, which earned an elbow from his superior. This predator liked to read elaborate schemes into everything. Were Terran governments truly that conniving?
Rows of desks sat in the embassy’s open space, with about a third occupied. Jimek squealed happily, and threw himself into an empty chair with wheels. Dustin began pushing him around, and I chased after them frantically. The children were disturbing the predators during their work! I didn’t want to see the Terran version of discipline.
Bondarenko stopped me with a light touch. “Let them play. After the past few days, we all need this.”
“I see. This place is more…empty, than I thought. Your staff must be taking time off to mourn.”
“A few, but more are throwing themselves into work. We’re diurnal, and not used to the variance in your sleep schedules,” Lisa explained. “We split the day up into thirds, to have adequate staff on call at all times.”
Dustin wheeled Jimek back to a desk, before chiming in. “I have no sense of time here. I’ve been, um, having trouble sleeping.”
“What?” I perked my ears in alarm. “You didn’t say anything.”
“You just started talking to me, and Jimek didn’t want me around. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful.”
“Your health and your rest is important. Maybe we can simulate the day-night cycle. Do you want me to cover up your skylight?”
“M-maybe some blackout curtains…if it’s not too much trouble, Callsi.”
“Of course not. I’ll look into what those curtains are exactly.”
Jimek flattened his ears. “How can you stand the dark, Dustin? You can’t see predators sneaking up on you!”
“Lots of kids are afraid of the dark, but there’s no reason to be,” the Terran child decided. “It’s different from light, not actually bad. It just looks scary…like humans.”
My eyes scanned the humans around me, who were just going about their daily routine. The ambassadorial staff’s binocular eyes were used to read emails, from their sedentary desk jobs. Even the UN peacekeepers were easygoing, once they determined I wasn’t a threat to Dustin.
It was unsettling to face prolonged exposure to Terrans, exactly like darkness. But the supposed “predator attack” taught me how wrong my gut responses were. Dustin had snarled when he was playing with Jimek, but he already proved he was protective of my son. How difficult must it be for him to adjust to this alien world? The poor kid had his very sleep disrupted, and never complained.
Maybe you should bring a little of Earth to our home. That means learning about the predators…not doing the minimum for a stipend.
Bondarenko and Reynolds led us to a visitors’ room, now that the children had settled down. They showed us to a drawer of carefully-vetted snacks, which included a salty puffball called ‘popcorn.’ It was crunchy between my teeth, with a peculiar texture. This wasn’t awful, for predator food. In fact, they shared our sporadic cravings for salt.
“I have a lot of questions about human culture. I feel like I should start with the basics: your identity. Why do you have two names?” I asked.
Lisa tapped her foot. “A few cultures on Earth have a single name, like you. But most humans have a personal name and a family name. Professionally, we refer to each other by title and family name.”
“That’s odd. So you’re saying everyone in your family is called Reynolds?”
“No…it’s more complicated than that. My mom’s side of the family has a different name. It’s customary in many human cultures for a wife to take the husband’s name, although not everyone handles things that way these days.”
“Huh? You change names with marriage to show that you’re one family?”
“In essence.”
Dustin flashed his teeth. “Actually, a lot of us have three names. I have a middle name too: Leo. Dustin Leo Curtis.”
Jimek scrunched his ears. “I am not calling you that. You can’t possibly have that many names!”
“Well, I do. Deal with it!”
The Terran stuck out his pink tongue at the Venlil, and it took me a moment to decide what the expression meant. It seemed like a teasing gesture; it looked less nefarious than the infamous teeth-baring, anyways. Deciphering human cues and body language was a challenging endeavor, since they were more alien than any other race. It was tough to get a correct read on the child’s emotions.
“I don’t get how we’re the only species that developed surnames.” Dustin’s binocular eyes swiveled toward me, with sudden seriousness. “How does your society function without them?”
“The government uses date of birth. We all have an identification number too.”
“Forget about official business. What about like, news and talk shows? Or if there were two Jimeks in the embassy, and you want one’s attention?”
“We’d use some trait that’s specific to him. Jimek, son of Callsi…or Jimek with the beige tuft.”
“I see. Sorry if I asked too many questions, I, uh, was just curious.”
“You don’t have to worry about doing something wrong, Dustin. You can ask me anything about Venlil Prime.”
Olek leaned against a wall menacingly. “We’re an open book too, Callsi. If you have any more questions about humans, you should ask us now. Including embarrassing subjects.”
“Taking care of a human is a lot of work,” Lisa growled. “You’re doing a good thing, Callsi, with a few hiccups.”
The UN soldiers were blocking our exit, which tickled my subconscious. At least Bondarenko’s glasses made him look more benign, since they obstructed his eyes. I wondered how big Dustin would become, and what he wanted to do at adulthood. Lisa’s words made me inspect his furless form with further scrutiny; human caretaking didn’t seem like any extra work compared to Jimek.
“What do you mean, a lot of work?” I asked.
Lisa tilted her head. “Humans have different needs than Venlil. You…you know that, right? Vitamins, clean clothes, exercise, sunlight and gravity therapy?”
“What?! I wasn’t told any of that. The pamphlet just said to give him the same level of care as a Venlil. Dustin, why didn’t you say anything?”
The kid shifted on his feet. “I didn’t want you to send me back, because I was too much trouble.”
“I’m not going to abandon you because of basic necessities! When we get clearance to go home, you’re going to teach me everything. Okay?”
The Terran child nodded, which I recognized as a sign of agreement. The trust still hadn’t returned to his eyes. When I looked past those chilling pupils and saccadic movements, I could see a sadness beyond his age. This 14-year-old human was the equivalent of Jimek, according to his documents. Why didn’t Dustin deserve a loving environment too?
I was committed to earning the human’s trust, and doing right by him. The fact was, Montreal wasn’t going to be habitable any time soon. The foster program would be needed longer than expected. I hadn’t signed up for the long haul, but rehoming him now would be too cruel.
The school incident could bring us closer together, since it’d revealed the error of my thinking. Dustin would be wanted in my home from this point on, not just a ticket to a paycheck. With Jimek accepting him now, we could be a welcoming family. Whatever was required for the predator’s welfare, I was willing to put in the time.
A/N
Miniseries Part 4! Jimek and Dustin have begun to play and draw together, moving past early tensions. Meanwhile, Callsi learns more about Earth, our customs, and human caretaking at the Terran embassy. Will she be able to do things right by Dustin in the future?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Chapter 5
Memory transcription subject: Callsi, Venlil Bartender
Date [standardized human time]: October 23, 2136
The Terran soldiers at the embassy provided a detailed list of Dustin’s needs, with full explanations. It was a daunting compilation, but I was determined to fulfill his care routine. At least the situation at the school was resolved; Dustin was given a week-long suspension, and would not be facing criminal charges or expulsion. Governor Tarva released a statement on social media, applauding my foster son’s strong sense of justice.
I suppose humanity’s protectiveness was why she trusted their astronauts from the beginning. Earth pledged to defend us from the grays, at least at first contact; the predators hated seeing atrocities committed against us. Dustin standing up to Cylek and his crew wasn’t that different. Jimek was no more able to take on the bullies, than our cowardly race could hold a candle to the Arxur.
I fetched a pair of scissors with forced excitement. “Okay, here goes nothing! We’re going to have you looking nice and spiffy.”
“Please be careful. You’re, uh, not scared or anything?” my foster son asked.
Kernels of fear settled in my heart, as my paws gripped the predator’s earlobes. Human ears had an unusual, curved shape, which folded inward to amplify sounds. In their not-so-distant past, this must’ve evolved to help them locate the source of a noise. I could only imagine the stimuli they cued in on were prey movements; their entire evolution was geared toward hunting people like me.
Dustin’s eyes were studying me in the mirror, a concerned glint in his pupils. I’d never been this close to a predator before. Maybe I should dwell on the fragility of the human form, rather than the murderous aspects of their build. For instance, their ears were flat against the head’s side, which helped to hear sounds behind them. Terrans must be susceptible to ambushes too, since their ancestors were preyed upon like us.
I blinked slowly. “No, of course not. I’ve just never done this. For Venlil, we shed on our own.”
“Is that why I find fur in random places?” he asked.
“Probably. I need you to hold really still, okay?”
It was peculiar that the furless primates wouldn’t let some hair grow in, but I was told many found the upkeep ‘cumbersome.’ Apparently, Dustin shouldn’t have his ‘bangs’ in his eyes either; it would interfere with his binocular vision. Humans had a limited field of view to start with, so I could understand why obstructions would cripple them.
I moved a paw across his warm forehead, shivering as his oily skin brushed my pads. The scissors were mobilized to the task, and I took care not to hurt Dustin on accident. Snagging a tuft of hair, I trimmed a few inches off as instructed. Their manes must take a lot of maintenance, with how quickly the predators told me it would grow back.
I checked that the cut wasn’t uneven. “How’s that? I have no idea about human styling.”
“It’s fine. Thanks,” Dustin replied, sticking his thumb up.
With slow motions, I brought the scissors to the back of his skull. The predator child’s trust mesmerized me, given that I was holding a sharp object close to his neck. Even Jimek would squirm in this scenario, and he had the periphery to watch me. How did the human suppress survival instincts so easily? If my paws shook and the scissors slipped…
That’s why you’re being careful. You don’t want to hurt the poor kid, or prolong this miserable experience.
Dustin’s mane felt silky beneath my paws, and I couldn’t help but think it was a shame to lop it off. The humans with longer hair looked more natural to me. The kid sat obediently still, as I trimmed away the excess fur. Once I finished the grueling task, I knelt to the floor to collect the clippings. To his credit, the Canadian orphan stooped to help as well.
“Whoa! This is like walking on ice, dude.” Jimek bounded into the kitchen, nearly slipping on the slick tile. My son was wearing a mismatched pair of Dustin’s ‘socks’, for an unknown reason. “How in the stars do you balance?”
“You’re not supposed to run. They’re just warm and comfy,” the predator grunted.
“Why are you cutting your fur, if you want to be warm? Humans are weird, with the baldness everywhere.”
I scowled at the Venlil. “Jimek! Don’t insult him.”
“It’s okay,” Dustin said. “I think we lost our fur for like, sweating? Some of our primate relatives still have a full coat.”
Jimek flicked his ears. “Ooh, I wanna see! Can you find a picture?”
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You don’t want to see wild animal versions of us.”
“Aw, c’mon. Please show me. I’m not scared of you anymore.”
Dustin shot a questioning glance at me, and I gave him a human-like nod. The orphan swiped his holopad off the table, cautiously booting up an archive of Earth’s internet. My heart rate accelerated, as I began to imagine a less-civilized version of Terrans. Maybe I didn’t want to see what my foster child descended from…but hadn’t I promised to learn about his people?
Dustin tapped on an image, and beckoned for Jimek and I to move closer. The human explained something about a ‘chimpanzee’, but the blood rushing in my ears drowned him out. This creature had shaggy, jet-black hair everywhere except its sickly face. Its jaw jutted out from its head harshly, and gave it leeway for chomping on prey. To make matters worse, its nose was smushed into its skull.
That demonic non-sapient looked like it had taken a rock between the eyes. Its binocular vision was somehow worse than the humans, due to the lack of those startling whites. Without the sclera highlighting their movements, primate eyes were dark, soulless pits. This monstrosity was related to Dustin’s kind?! I almost swooned from a cocktail of horror and terror.
“…and humans share 99% of the same DNA! Chimps are our closest relative,” Dustin finished. “The big difference is that they’re quadrupeds, and their brains are smaller.”
That’s the big difference? I don’t want to think that my foster son is only 1% different from that…that thing.
I averted my eyes. “H-how…how do…you k-know all this?”
“I kinda wanna be a zoologist. One of my foster parents worked at a zoo. Oh, yeah…uh, I probably shouldn’t explain what that is.”
“Probably not. On s-second thought, I like you better without the hair.”
“M-me too.” A deflated Jimek pulled his tail out beneath his legs, and quietly removed the socks from his paws. “I…can’t believe how mean it looks.”
“Like I said, they’re wild. They’re stronger and more aggressive. They’d beat us in a fight, hands down,” Dustin offered.
“T-that’s not encouraging. You’re very aggressive.”
“Bah, we’re actually nice for primates. Primates are six times more aggressive than the average mammal on Earth, and humans fit—”
I pushed down a rising panic attack. “DUSTIN, THAT’S ENOUGH!”
The human child looked crestfallen, and shriveled under my raised voice. He tugged his arms close to his chest, lowering his head with a sad expression. I realized it was harsh to take the wind out of his sails, when this was a subject he professed passion for. However, the last thing I needed was confirmation that Terrans were predisposed to violence.
Of course, I was aware of their wars…but that wasn’t something I wanted to learn about on an academic level. It was better to focus on their emotional complexity and endearing traits. Giving Dustin a loving environment wouldn’t be possible if I thought of him like a mindless chimpanzee.
“I’m sorry, guess I did it again,” Dustin croaked. “I got carried away, and I…well I, um, just...”
Mom! Yelling bad, Jimek signed with dejected tail swipes. Predator sad now.
“My outburst was harsh, and I apologize. I don’t want to stifle you from talking about things you like.” I pressed a paw on the human’s shoulder. “But I’m not ready to learn about wild predators yet. Maybe we can start with easier topics, and work up slowly?”
The predator gave a hasty nod. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“Since when do you love animals? I thought your passion was art?”
“That’s just a hobby. I draw for fun, because, uh, it’s like an outlet. Is it okay to say that?”
“You can be honest about your feelings, Dustin.”
“Honestly, animals are just simple. When an animal rejects their young, we can study the reason. They don’t leave you wondering, and ping-ponging…and stupidly, stupidly showing Venlil pictures of our meaner cousins.”
The orphan swiped a hand across his binocular eyes. Why couldn’t I swallow my discomfort for a few minutes? It wasn’t like my son hadn’t asked to see those pictures; my permission was requested before Dustin obliged, too. The human just answered truthfully, and in greater detail than I’d like. It wasn’t like an image could do anything worse than stick in my brain.
Unfortunately, Dustin took every reprimand as a sign that I would send him back. I felt guilty for my behavior, knowing he was this worried about upsetting us. My goal was to be more open-minded around humans, and to assuage his insecurities. This wasn’t the cue I hoped to send through our new chores.
None of this changes who Dustin is as a person. He’s a predator who cares about Jimek, and is also affection-starved.
“I still love you. You’re my chimpanzee,” Jimek squeaked.
The Terran knitted his eyebrows. “Thanks? But, uh, Jimek. Please…don’t ever say that again.”
“That I love you? Of course, it’s socially bad to—”
“The chimpanzee part. Humans use the animals in the primate family as, uh, really bad insults for each other.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a conception that they’re dumb. Which is like, so not true….er, sorry. I won’t get into it.”
Jimek scratched his neck. “I just meant that I don’t care what you are. You’re my brother.”
“Hey, I love you too, little bro,” Dustin growled.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Jimek show attachments to anyone, or even demonstrate happiness. Watching the little Venlil ensnare the human in a hug was heartwarming; that was worth all of the discomfort in the world. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to bring joy to my son’s life. I hadn’t imagined our family dynamic including a predator, but Dustin was a much-needed big brother.
It was obvious the Terran wasn’t a danger to us, and that meant we just needed to adjust to his quirks. The Canadian orphan had done nothing but attempt to conform to Venlil standards. The chances of Dustin eating us, after all that effort, were minimal. There was solace in knowing that he’d imprinted on us, and wouldn’t lose control of his instincts easily.
Lisa had been right about the extra hassle in caring for humans, though; they were high-maintenance aliens. The next chore on the list was ‘washing clothes’, since the predators shed oily skin and dripped sweat daily. Adding the cleaning of inanimate objects, alongside other hygiene, seemed like an unnecessary step. Perhaps Dustin was cold without artificial pelts? Terrans no longer had the hairy forms of chimps and other apes.
“Right. Well, let’s give the washing a whirl.” I cautiously scooped up the pile of dirty clothes, which the human had collected in a basket. “Do you really have to go through all of these? You’ve been here a week.”
“Uh, I…yes?” Dustin murmured.
I exhaled heavily through my mouth, and grabbed a shirt that was wadded up. I submerged it in the sink, which I’d filled with soapy water. Jimek and Dustin jumped in to help, wringing their own articles. My eyes darted back to the paper, reading the scribbles by this item. It seemed the Terran soldiers had tacked on a little more than instructions.
DO NOT ASK HIM DETAILS ABOUT THIS ONE, Olek had written in permanent marker. (The visual translator inferred an angry tone, which I hadn’t seen assigned to penned form before.)
Lisa’s delicate handwriting was scrawled below. Awkward subject for humans to discuss. It’s a social faux-pas not to use coverings, and it can have some inappropriate connotations. Leave it at that, for Dustin’s sake.
“So do you humans wear these because you’re ashamed of your bodies? That’s sad,” Jimek said. “You don’t have to do that here.”
Dustin’s face turned bright red. “Uh…yeah, I…I do have to. It would, um, like m-make, er…things visible…and you know, not having them signals, uh…”
“Dustin!” I interjected. “How dare you discuss sexual activities around my innocent Jimek?”
The human’s jaw dropped wide open, and he buried his face in his hands. The socks he’d been washing sunk to the bottom of the sink. I could see the red shade on his cheeks deepening, while his posture hunched over. The predator looked like he wanted to curl up beneath a rock and hide. Jimek swished his tail at me suspiciously, but said nothing.
I couldn’t withhold a howl of laughter any longer, and my tail swatted Dustin on the arm. His look of utter misery was amusing. The primate’s lips were half-parted, and he raised an eyebrow at me. The orphan’s cheeks were still puffed out with embarrassment, but there was a hint of relief visible. It was clear humans had values of modesty deeply ingrained.
“I’m messing with you,” I chuckled. “Jimek’s hardly innocent, anyways.”
Dustin scowled. “That wasn’t funny! C’mon Callsi...Jimek, back me up here.”
“It’s pretty funny. I mean, damn! Your face looked like you were going to pass out,” the little Venlil chortled.
“If it’s so funny, I guess I should tell your mom about those web—”
“SHUT UP! Stupid predator.”
The human kid gave a more relaxed snarl, and fished the socks out of the sink. I admired the clothesline I’d set up outside, where we’d hang these items to dry when they were done. While bantering with the predator, a tinge of attachment had crept under my reservations. I realized with surprise that I liked Dustin.
It was sneaky how humans could ingratiate themselves; we’d come a long way from being terrified of him. Maybe those silly pamphlets the foster program gave us were right. Once the focus was directed away from their predator side, these primates were cute and dorky. These little activities transpiring under my roof felt like progress.
I hoped Dustin was getting closer to forgiving me, for my words back at the school. Rectifying my hurtful behaviors was my top priority; I wanted the human to know this was about more than funding Jimek’s art. This was about helping a child who’d had a difficult life, and needed a sense of belonging. It didn’t matter that he was a predator anymore.
A/N
Part 5! Callsi tackles the subtleties of human caretaking, after the school incident is settled. Our Venlil family learns about primates, and our narrator makes certain to embarrass Dustin. What do you think of the progress Jimek and Callsi have actualized?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
It's almost time to start thinking about next month's content; time flies! One of the popular options on Discord was a continuation of these characters (possibly with Venlil school from Dustin's perspective). I'm open to something new too, such as the human exterminators in the Venlil capital. Let me know your thoughts and requests!
Chapter 6
Memory transcription subject: Callsi, Venlil Bartender
Date [standardized human time]: October 25, 2136
Dustin began to come out of his shell, and I tried to encourage authentic expression. The UN provided vitamins free of charge; I administered them during our first meal of the day. My new renovations proved more suitable to human physiology too. It chilled me how dark his lair was with the curtains, but I wasn’t going to tell him how the lighting reminded me of Arxur tendencies.
Today was an off day, so I didn’t have to head into the bar. Jimek and Dustin had fared well yesterday, left to their own devices during my shift. The predator’s integration was successful enough that I wasn’t preoccupied at work; the imaginings of my son being eaten alive had diminished. Somehow, I’d come to believe that the Terran cared about us.
“Where are we going, Callsi?” Dustin nudged Jimek with his shoulder, and the little Venlil shoved back. The two children couldn’t sit still in the suddenly-vacant public train. “You haven’t told us.”
Other than his ill-fated school day, the human hadn’t traveled outside my humble abode. I felt like heading into the capital’s inner ring, and browsing the local entertainment. My first inclination was to take Jimek alone, since few establishments rejoiced at the sight of predators. However, I wasn’t going to let prejudice stand in the way of including Dustin. The last thing I wanted was to feed his abandonment complex.
We disembarked outside the shops district. The Terran child looked a bit nervous, if I’d gauged the lip biting gesture correctly. Meanwhile, Jimek was enthused about the excursion, since it was a rare treat. His days off from school didn’t coincide with my work schedule often. With how tight our fiscal situation was, we didn’t have many credits to spend on leisure anyways.
The first stipend for Dustin was double what was promised, I recalled. I hope that trend continues, but if they chose to pay us extra…a lot of foster families must’ve dropped out.
The fortunate news was that I wouldn’t have to penny-pinch to afford Jimek’s art school. The down payment, which was a hefty lump sum, was within reach; I hoped to enroll him as a surprise for his birthday. Hopefully Dustin wouldn’t take the gift the wrong way, since my son outright told him that we “got this thing for art school.” What could I do to ease the Terran’s fear of abandonment?
I hoped fun activities as a family unit would help. The workings of the human mind were elusive, so there was no telling how Dustin would react to anything. I could only do my best, and follow any directives given to me by other predators. Perhaps it would be wise to seek advice on his psychological welfare from the UN embassy. It was a frightening prospect to go back there alone, but I’d established a rapport with Olek and Lisa.
I flicked my ears at my son. “Jimek, venture a guess where we’re heading?”
“The gravity arcade?” the little Venlil asked, in a hopeful voice.
“We sure are, and with the souvenir pass. That means you can go to the special exhibit, where you paint in zero g.”
“Stars, you’re the best, Mom! Dustin, you’re gonna love it. All of your human hunting is gonna look boring by comparison!”
Jimek grabbed Dustin by the wrists, and began bouncing up and down. The Venlil was openly squealing, with his ears straight up. The human was flummoxed by this excitement, though he offered an awkward snarl. I thought about telling my son to temper the theatrics, but it was nice to instill happiness. Who cared what any passersby thought?
The predator’s eyes twinkled, as he got his first look at the Venlil capital. The foster program carted him to my place, straight from the spaceport. Dustin had little chance to explore our world and sate his curiosity. From the kid’s perspective, he’d learned aliens existed mere months ago. Now, he was living among extraterrestrials on another planet.
That paradigm shift must be a lot to absorb. Then, Dustin had to worry about censoring behaviors which were natural to humans. His mandate was to overwrite his heritage, or to be shunned by the Venlil. The more I considered his perspective, the more I realized how demanding this arrangement was on a child’s psyche.
“What did you think of us at first contact, Dustin?” I asked softly. “What was that like?”
“It was Friday. They pulled everyone out of class, right after I got the news banner on my holopad.” The kid’s binocular eyes peered into a furniture store. “I remember the teachers were agitated. A SETI researcher—”
“SETI?” Jimek interrupted.
“Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence….hell of a message that day. Humanity wasn’t alone in the universe, not by a long shot. There was an entire Federation, and a war raging with sadistic Arxur monsters. The United Nations would follow the people’s will, because this moment changed our history as a species.”
“Whoa, that’s intense, dude! But you didn’t answer what you thought of us.”
“I don’t think we knew in that moment. It was so quiet in the auditorium, you could hear a pin drop. When they began listing the Arxur’s crimes, I felt hatred. So did a lot of folks, but with the Venlil, uh…”
I swished my tail encouragingly. “Go on. You won’t offend me.”
“I pitied you. Listening to these serious people explain why Venlil were petrified of humans…it made you seem, uh, precious? We wanted to show you that we weren’t scary. We wanted to be friends.”
“You’re doing a great job at that. Isn’t he, Jim—hey, get back here! Wait for us!”
Jimek sauntered up to the ticket booth, and waved for Dustin to join him. The Venlil employee’s face fell, as the predator made himself visible. I forced an authoritative posture, and jammed my paw into the window. The worker was trying to close the pane on us, but I wasn’t letting him deny us service.
“Hi there! We’ll take three passes, souvenir level.” I squinted at his name tag, while forcing a cheery tone. “Darev, is it? That’s a unique name.”
The Venlil employee cowered. “It’s P-Paltan. T-th…there’s other…b-booths.”
“No, Darev, you’re going to sell us the passes. The longer we argue about it, the longer the predator is here. So just sell it and we’ll leave.”
Dustin ducked his head. “Told you I needed the mask, Callsi. I, uh, can go stand somewhere else.”
“No! You’re staying right here with us. What will it be, Darev?”
The Venlil worker gulped, and threw himself at the holoscreen. He printed out three wristbands, as I scanned the credits chip. I fastened one pass to Dustin’s arm, while giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. The human seemed nervous to be out in public; it was like he felt guilty for causing alarm. My foster son did nothing wrong, and he needed to know that.
Jimek donned his own wristband, still bubbling with excitement. The little Venlil dragged the predator toward the entrance, unfazed by close contact. I followed after them, while Darev fell on the floor sobbing. Encountering a human sent him into a nervous breakdown. I couldn’t imagine how it felt for Dustin, to garner such reactions by showing his face.
We wanted to show you we weren’t scary. We wanted to be friends, the orphan’s words echoed in my head.
Very few Venlil were keen on that idea, especially at this popular attraction. There was a lengthy wait to get in the door, as the ticket scanning process resulted in a bottleneck. However, when the entrants spotted Dustin’s approach, they parted like an Iftali hoof. Most Venlil mounted a desperate attempt at a getaway, which bordered on a stampede.
“Awesome, I hate lines! Mom, we should take Dustin places more often! We’ll never wait again,” Jimek cheered.
Dustin gritted his teeth. “I don’t want to scare people off. What did I even do?”
“You did absolutely nothing.” I jogged to catch up to the children, and ruffled his mane reassuringly. “They just don’t know what a lovely young man you are. That’s their loss.”
“You two should go without me. I’m going to ruin your fun, and scare more people, and…”
“We both want you here. We’re not going to let some spoilsports ruin Jimek’s day, are we? He’s bursting to show you around.”
Dustin met Jimek’s eyes, and his petrifying features softened. The three of us scanned our wristbands, ignoring the audible gasps of employees. My son whirled around, so quickly that his bushy tail slapped the human in the mouth. The Canadian orphan hesitated, before chasing after the overeager Venlil.
It should’ve horrified me to see a predator sprinting after my only child. Instead, my heart felt light and airy, and I wondered if the gravity manipulation extended to the lobby. Come to think of it, witnessing other Venlil mistreat Dustin triggered my maternal instincts. How was it possible to feel such emotions toward a beast?
The children entered the first exhibit, through a mock airlock. I peered through the observation window, and chuckled as Dustin’s eyes went wide. The human was in awe, diving into the gravity-free zone. This must be my foster child’s first experience with weightlessness.
Jimek grabbed at the ceiling ropes, and slung himself around. The predator mimicked the Venlil’s example, and did an awkward flip through the air. I barely noticed the panicked reactions of the others in the chamber. All I saw was the childlike wonder in those hunter pupils. The Terran orphan bared his teeth, and surveyed his floating legs with disbelief.
A female shriek sounded behind me. “What the fuck is that thing doing here? Because of it, my poor baby is drinking through a straw!”
I swiveled around, and vaguely recognized the figure as Vana, Cylek’s mother. Her family accumulated a small fortune in the flamethrower business, which lent connections to the exterminator guild. With her son “mauled”, it was no wonder so many exterminators turned up to the school. It was fortunate that Tarva’s orders superseded this Venlil’s ties.
“Cylek got what he deserved. He tormented Jimek for months,” I hissed. “You did nothing.”
“That is pure slander! Cylek is a bright young boy, and he would never hurt a fly. I won’t let some hideous predator ruin him!”
“So you’re not even going to address the physical marks on Jimek?”
“Jimek is odd, and I think he knows few people would miss him. Cylek has a future; it makes the freaks jealous. So your little artist did those things to himself, blaming my darling to get attention.”
“The bullying was caught on video, bitch. And how dare you say those things about my son?!”
“It’s just the truth. That’s the thing about low-income children; they rarely exceed their parents’ position. It’s not like Jimek’s had a good example to learn from, or a mother who’s actually around.”
I recoiled as though I’d been slapped, while anger surged through my veins. If Dustin tumbled out of the gravity chamber and broke Vana’s jaw, I might applaud him now. Acquiring a large inheritance didn’t make this Venlil a better mother than me. Though it was often a struggle to make ends meet, I did everything in my power to give Jimek opportunities.
I narrowed my eyes. “Wow. I feel sorry for Cylek, having a mother like you. It’s no wonder he turned out to be such a predator-diseased blight on society.”
“You’re one to talk about predator disease! Your son is the one living with…playing with a slobbering human. If I had a face like Dustin, I’d throw myself in front of a flamethrower.”
“Then why don’t you? Dustin’s a predator, yes, and he’s still more attractive than you.”
“Real funny, you pathetic whore. Humans can’t do anything besides kill and reproduce. We’d be doing the galaxy a favor, if we made Dustin into a charcoal pile. That mongrel should’ve been liquified on Earth with the rest of its breed!”
“Oh, go rot in an Arxur farm!” I placed my snout inches from her face, and suppressed the burning in my chest. “You will NEVER talk about my son that way again!”
Vana snickered. “Your son?! That’s hysterical! Oh Callsi, I’m going to tell everyone you called a human your child! No one will ever take you seriously again.”
Cylek’s mother stalked off, lifting her chin in a haughty gesture. The flamethrower magnate collected her son, who was in the VR spaceship simulator. From Cylek’s bored look, you’d think he came here every week…which he probably did. Spotting the brat made me want to impede his jaw’s healing.
Of course, that bully and his mom had to be here. Luckily, Jimek didn’t see them; that would’ve killed his enthusiasm.
During my conversation, Jimek and Dustin had snuck into the souvenir room. The impatient children should’ve waited to make their painting; however, I imagined my biological son couldn’t contain his excitement. My paws carried me to the alternate exit, which led from the artistry room. I tried not to let Vana possess my thoughts, as I waited for the kids to reappear.
“Uh…Callsi?” The exit door creaked half-open, and Dustin stayed hidden behind the frame. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“Great. I hope you two had fun,” I muttered.
“What? Did you hear me? I said not to, um, be mad…I thought you’d ask what I did.”
“Sorry, I’m a bit distracted. What did you do? Oh stars, please tell me you didn’t punch anyone else.”
“Nothing like that. You see, uh, there was paint, and well, we didn’t mean, er, y’know—”
“Whatever it is, just tell me.”
“Alright. Jimek? Why don’t you come out now?”
Dustin ducked out into the walkway, with one arm wrapped around the Venlil. Pink paint dripped from the human’s mane, leaving random splotches in his scalp. Some coloring was smeared on his shirt too, and it dried onto his hands as well. The predator looked like he’d gone on a rampage in an art school.
The Terran cringed under my glare. “Uh, I can explain…”
My eyes turned to Jimek next, who was slinking out with sheepish steps. The Venlil was slathered in paint, like a walking sliver of a color wheel. A horrified gasp escaped my lips, as I saw my sons were thoroughly drenched. My ire shifted away from Vana, and turned against the shy human instead.
“Dustin Leo Curtis. Why in the stars is Jimek purple?!” I shrieked.
The Terran orphan blanched, and averted his eyes. With fury simmering at full force, I resigned myself to teaching the boys a lesson.
A/N
Part 6 is here! Callsi takes the children for an excursion, and the group quickly runs into some prejudiced Venlil. While the kids manage to have fun, a heated exchange with Cylek's classist mother ruins the outing for our narrator.
Will there be ramifications for referring to Dustin as her son? More importantly, what's the proper punishment for Jimek being purple?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting! The votes from the poll are in; VFP will be continuing into next month!
Chapter 7
Memory transcription subject: Callsi, Venlil Bartender
Date [standardized human time]: October 26, 2136
Regular showering was insufficient for paint removal, much to my chagrin. It took a considerable deal of scrubbing and dish soap to remove the purple add-ons to Jimek’s fur. Dustin prattled on about how humans dyed their manes “flashy” colors; I would’ve thought he was joking, if I hadn’t seen a predator with neon blue hair walking near the UN embassy. Whatever was acceptable in Terran culture, I didn’t appreciate my son’s violet splotches.
The predator issued dozens of apologies on the ride home, and seemed keenly aware of the stares. How the Terran managed to get into mischief in such a short time frame was beyond me. It was partially my fault for not supervising the alien beast, but I still was steaming. If this was how they were going to act without my watchful eye, then they were going to tag along to work today.
Vana’s promise to spread my attachment to Dustin stuck with me; there was no question she meant to ruin my reputation. I might as well get ahead of the gossip, by openly flaunting the Terran’s presence. While this would punish the children, it would also allow me to spin the narrative. Any customers driven off by a predator in the back…well, I hoped my boss, Kaulin, agreed with my strategy.
“Listen, you two are going to make up the work you’re missing at school. Education is important,” I hissed, as we entered through the back door.
Dustin pulled textbooks from his backpack. “Yes, Callsi.”
“And you’re going to sit back here, and NOT make a ruckus.”
Kaulin gasped, as he walked by to greet me. The dark-furred Venlil’s eyes bulged, seeing a predator in his establishment. I hadn’t pressed my boss on his opinions of humans; it was tough to know his true thoughts on any matter. He had a habit of agreeing with whatever the prevailing belief was in a group, as a form of ingratiation.
“W-what…why did…you brought your human?” Kaulin hissed. “You’re going to scare off the customers, especially after the mauling incident! Oh, hi Jimek.”
Jimek tilted his head. “We’ll be good, Kaulin. Mom doesn’t trust us to be alone.”
“Your mother should’ve asked me, instead of just bringing it…him here. Humans have a way of scaring entire establishments off. A lot of our customers aren’t happy with the refugees prowling about everywhere.”
I pinned my ears back. “That’s not the Terrans’ fault.”
“There’s a reason other bars don’t let them in, and it goes beyond politics. Drunk humans get rowdy and they fight!”
“Sounds like you need a bouncer,” Dustin chimed in.
All three of us squinted at the orphan in confusion. Was this “bouncer” profession meant to stop predatory aggression from flaring up? Kaulin had a point about banning Terran clientele; I could see the issue with lowering their inhibitions. No Venlil in the universe would interfere in a human duel, and risk them turning on us.
Even the humans know they need to contain their violence, if they have “bouncers” at bars. Maybe I should scrap this plan.
However, there was too much at stake to back out now. My boss was adjusting to the human quicker than most, but I could tell from his demeanor that he wasn’t pleased. Bringing Dustin could’ve resulted in serious discipline; it was fortunate that my employer hadn’t blown his top. Kaulin seemed on the fence about sending us home, and I hoped I could dissuade him with his pocketbook.
“Hear me out. We know Venlil have been spending less, since we broke with the Federation.” I swished my tail assertively, and showed Dustin to a break table. “Rebranding ourselves as human-friendly…being a trailblazer, could be a good business move.”
Kaulin sighed in exasperation. “Tell me, how the fuck is that a good business move?”
“Those Terran refugees have a little cash to spend. With everything going on, you think they might want a drink?” I asked. “It’s an untapped market. With everyone else turning them away, where are they going to go?”
“Does it matter? We need Venlil business too. Tarva could tell these predators to pack their bags tomorrow, and we’d have nothing.”
“What about the pro-human Venlil going out on the town? The ones who want to take their pals out, or not be surrounded by prejudice? They’re not the majority now, but I suspect that will change.”
The dark gray Venlil palmed his chin, and paced back and forth. I could picture the calculations occurring in his mind, as he debated my argument’s merit. We had turned away several human customers this week, so it would take active outreach to bring them back. That meant that I could be roped into marketing toward predators.
“You’ll be the one serving them, Callsi. Suit yourself,” Kaulin grumbled.
I relaxed my muscles. “Thank you, s—"
“This doesn’t work out, you’re getting canned. Same for if you let those predators kill anyone. They’re your responsibility now.”
So much for job security. This could be the dumbest gamble of my life.
My boss shoved me toward the front counter, where impatient customers were shouting for drinks. I gave tail signals to Jimek, ordering him to start his homework. Dustin looked confused by the signs, and I reminded myself to teach him later. At the moment, my sole focus was serving the patrons. The regulars got my attention first, since I could fix up their beverages in a hurry.
Nobody addressed the literal predator in the room, at least at first. A few Venlil spotted the Canadian orphan eventually, as he pored over an arithmetic textbook. Tibek, a grumpy war veteran, seemed more outraged than afraid. On multiple occasions, I’d heard him launch into rhetoric about the humans deceiving us. When word spread that I enlisted in the foster program, he went on a graphic tirade.
Think of your son! he said then. Think about what his innards will look like on your walls…and how his flesh will taste in the predators’ gullet.
“How dare you bring this thing to a respectable establishment?” Tibek spat. “It’s convinced you it’s a child, hasn’t it?”
I slid him a drink. “Well, he hasn’t eaten Jimek. You were wrong about that.”
“It hasn’t eaten Jimek yet! This is child endangerment…this whole fucking program is abuse!”
The disgruntled veteran curled his lip, and stalked out of the bar. Tibek hadn’t even paid his bill, but I decided not to chase after him. It was obvious we would lose a few customers, yet surely everyone here wouldn’t turn on us. Why was nobody speaking up for me? Shouldn’t at least one individual be on my side?
Another regular, Nalva, who worked in construction, hissed in disgust. She grabbed her drink glass, and hurled it onto the floor. I jumped at the sound of shattering glass; Dustin stiffened in the back as well. The Venlil customer leaned over the counter, and clenched her paw around my neck. Pain seared through my skin, as I struggled to break her grip.
Nalva bared her teeth. “Did I consent to be in the same room as a predator? Tarva’s tyranny is crushing our free will!”
“Let…l-let go!” I gasped.
“What Vana said about you was true. You consider that demon an equal to Jimek; you referred to it as your child. How can you do that to your real son?”
My oxygen supply was beginning to diminish, as my windpipe was crushed by the stronger Venlil. Kaulin watched with apprehension; it hadn’t taken long for our customer base to revolt. I heard a chime from the front door, and could only imagine what the new arrival thought of this scene. Tears swelled in my eyes, while I pawed for Nalva to release me.
Vana spreads this one rumor, and my regulars go full predator disease on me. I’ve got to escape.
The construction worker’s vice-like grip relaxed suddenly, and a shadow descended over the bar counter. My knees buckled; I retched to recover my breath. Oleksiy Bondarenko’s hulking form had pounced upon Nalva, flexing arm muscles the size of fruits. He ripped her away like she was a paperweight, and carried her with confident strides. The predator flung her out the main entrance, in unceremonious style.
“Well, that was unpleasant.” The UN soldier dusted off his hands, and adjusted his glasses. He squinted at me, before his face brightened. “Wait, Callsi?! Shit, it’s sure good to see you!”
The other Venlil patrons cleared out in a hurry, seeing the massive beast chatting it up with me. Only a single person lingered, and they were passed out in their chair. I wanted to slump over in defeat; Kaulin’s disapproving glower was visible in my periphery. But Olek didn’t deserve to see me pouting, even if he just drove off every customer in sight.
“Hi, Olek,” I sighed. “Dustin, Jimek! Come say hello to the nice soldier.”
Dustin trotted up to a bar stool, still lugging his math textbook. After landing on my bad side, the orphan was following my orders in earnest. The little Venlil was right behind him, and swished his tail at Olek. The massive human bared his teeth at the children, before hastily closing his mouth. I didn’t understand why Terrans snarled so much.
Peacekeeper Bondarenko lowered his eyes. “Sorry for chasing off your customers. It looked like you needed a hand there.”
“It’s alright. Thanks for the assist,” I muttered. “What can I do for you?”
“Wait…you’re actually gonna serve me? I’ll leave if you want, Callsi, you won’t offend me. It’s business.”
I reached under the counter, and pulled out a bottle of low-strength liquor. Hopefully, Olek wouldn’t be offended by me starting him easy. A predator might take it as an insult to his strength, but I just didn’t know enough about human physiology. The last thing I wanted was to alter his biochemistry in unintended ways.
The predator accepted the shot glass, and offered his credit chip. I lashed my tail, rejecting his payment method. After this UN soldier resolved Dustin’s predicament, gave me caretaking advice, and intervened in the bar assault, I figured I owed him a drink. Olek fixed his binocular eyes on the liquid, before dipping his head with gratitude.
I tapped the counter. “This one’s on the house.”
“Really? Thanks,” the human adult growled. “I’ve been to twelve different bars tonight, and not a one would give me a drink. Three of them pulled a gun on me. I didn’t like that much.”
“I’m sorry. During my shifts, we won’t be turning your kind away. I can’t speak for other workers, but I respect you Terrans.”
“It’s nice to hear that. Actually, there was one bar that served my buddy a drink…with a little intimidation on his part. I didn’t wanna get in like that. You’re not doing this ‘cause you’re scared of me, right?”
“No. Now drink your drink. It’s not there to collect dust.”
Olek flashed his teeth again, and raised his glass to me. The Terran chugged the drink in a single gulp, before the veins in his binocular eyes popped. He slumped against the counter, grasping at his throat. Gargling and gasping noises came from his gullet, which concerned me. The predator recovered quickly, and slapped the counter with a wild howl.
“Holy shit! That was strong,” he hollered. “You trying to put me on the floor, Callsi?”
I blinked in confusion. “That was…a lighter brew. It’s only 50% alcohol.”
“Only…I did not hear that right. I thought the Venlil were posturing, talking about your booze. But you may want to dilute that for human customers.”
Dustin cleared his throat. “The Venlil have one of the strongest alcohol tolerances in the galaxy. They process it quite efficiently, since they eat a lot of fruits.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “And how do you know this?”
“I might’ve already read the xenobiology textbook…for fun…”
“Nerd!” Jimek teased. “Why don’t you write my essay for me?”
“Okay, if you’ll write the bull…predatorshit diagram on environmental science for me. I refuse to write about the reasons behind extermination.”
I glared at Dustin. “What did I say about cursing?”
“Sorry, uh, it slip—"
“That was no slip. Go in the back, and write your damn paper! You don’t have to agree with the ideas to regurgitate them!”
The children scampered off, returning to their tucked-away seating. Kaulin looked both displeased with kids roaming the storefront, and annoyed by the muscular beast at the counter. It was a relief that inebriation hadn’t turned Olek into a territorial animal, like the dueling humans we’d heard about. I had noticed how easily he discarded Nalva.
Let’s just hope that he stays docile. There’s no telling what predators are like under the influence.
The Terran soldier inspected the bottles on the wall, and nodded to himself. A Venlil customer started to enter the bar, but ducked out at the predator sighting. Emotion flashed in Olek’s brown irises, though he suppressed it with more ease than Dustin. Something told me this human was taught to bottle his feelings.
“Olek, is everything alright?” I cautiously placed a paw on his meaty hand, and checked if he shied away from the contact. “Is there a reason you were so hellbent on a drink tonight?”
The Terran conspiracy theorist sighed. “It’s…it’s my twentieth birthday, in Earth years. My pal, Fedir, wanted to celebrate. I meant to have fun, but now…I ditched my best friend, ‘cause he was being an ass. I’m a little down in the dumps.”
The predator wiggled his fingers, and I assessed that as a summons for another shot. Recalling his earlier advice, I diluted the liquor serving with water. Bondarenko smirked, as he saw me mellowing out his drink. It wasn’t my goal to have the big guy pass out; I couldn’t lug him out of here, in that happenstance.
“Happy birthday,” I said quietly. “Jimek’s birthday is right around the corner too. He’s turning 13…two years from adulthood. Grew up so fast.”
Olek raised an eyebrow. “Two years from…ah, never mind. Here’s to Jimek.”
“To Jimek,” Kaulin hissed sarcastically. “The only Venlil left in the store.”
I resisted the urge to shush my boss. “Don’t mind the negativity, human. Hey, if you can keep a secret, I’m putting Jimek in art school. Finally did it.”
“You don’t sound excited,” the Peacekeeper noted. “I thought you’d be happy about that.”
“I’m worried Dustin will take it personally. He likes art too, but the program costs quite a bit. It’s not like I can enroll them both. He won’t get to see Jimek as much either, and I’m worried he’ll…raise his guard again.”
Olek stared at his now-empty glass, and drummed his fingers on the table. His binocular eyes made direct contact with mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I wasn’t sure why I was confessing our troubles to a human, but these predators were good at listening. Their chilling focus also made you aware that they were paying attention.
So that’s why I feel like they care. It’s all in the forward-facing eyes.
“Well, easy fix. Let’s put Dustin in art school, huh?” Olek decided. “I’m sure the soldiers at the embassy will chip in. We all love him.”
The human fished into a sewn bag on his leg pelts, and retrieved a credit voucher. Olek’s lips curved up, before he pressed a signed slip into my paw. I gasped as I read the amount he extended, pushing it back to him. The predator shook his head insistently, and shoved it in my direction once more. It felt shameful to secure it in my grasp.
“I must be hanging around Lisa Reynolds too much. I’m tipping bartenders like a blasted American!” he chuckled.
My ears pinned back. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know I don’t. But we’ll cover the amount, one way or another. Us humans gotta stick together.”
Bondarenko pushed himself upright, and his eyes darted over to Kaulin. My boss squirmed under his stare, before making himself scarce. Olek staggered to the exit, raising a fleshy hand at me. I mirrored his farewell with my tail, still touched by his kindness. There was no reason for this guy to rally UN soldiers’ support for a random kid.
Humans were a compassionate species; there was no question about it. I was elated to surprise both Dustin and Jimek, and give them an extracurricular activity that would bring us closer together. My son deserved a wonderful birthday, and my foster child wasn’t going to be left out either. Terran generosity was granting us more than I could have dreamed of.
A/N
Part 7 is here! Dustin and Jimek tag along on a "bring your kid to work" excursion, and Callsi deals with the kickback. She persuades her boss to encourage human customers, and her first one is Olek. How will Dustin react to his art school being funded as well? Will Jimek's birthday be a success?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!