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The Nature of Predators - Wild West (9/11)
🕑 Added 2024-06-12 11:00:10 +0000 UTCMemory Transcription Subject: Nilrie, Takkan Smuggler
Date [standardized human time]: April 19, 2158
The aerial view during the shuttle ride had shown a very different planet: one with roads carving through the once untamed desert and wooded hills, as well as power lines and infrastructure crossing geological boundaries. Surveying the changes offered a welcome distraction from being packed in with predators. The natives appeared to be taking me to a bigger city called Portland, where they claimed to have more resources, as well as proper specialists in xenomedicine. A far cry from the rundown shacks in Blake’s time, Portland had towers that soared into the sky—hunters could have genuine architects. Mountains rolled behind the sprawling metropolis; I felt uneasy being around so many predators, even if this place looked much more civilized than the night in the woods.
What will Blake Donovan think, seeing what became of the frontier? Not to mention, with vehicles, there’s no horses to be seen in this city.
Upon our arrival, the hospital looked to have modern comforts, with electric lighting and the very welcome blast of air conditioning. The humans’ behavior was more docile than those of the rowdy mob that had insisted I was a demon; few paid me any attention, with many more eyes gawking at the cryopod. There were sporadic aliens scattered about, who didn’t seem distressed about being in the care of predators. I didn’t have a chance to pull them aside and question them, as Blake was separated from me—I’d prayed to Preacher Collins’ deity that he’d survive, because I knew the sheriff believed in that entity. My battered face was shown to a practitioner, in order to mend the damage Marlow’s boot had done. It felt strange allowing a binocular-eyed monster to check my wounds with a quick handheld scanner, determining the skeletal damage to my snout.
The beast had cleaned the wounds with diligence, but I’d felt my blood pressure spike as her gloved hands made contact with me. She was wearing some blue mask over her nose, perhaps not to be driven mad by blood scent all day. Why would a human study healing prey aliens, unless Matteo had been right about them being highly empathetic creatures? Where my logic totally ground to a halt was the contradiction in that statement. If these “half-prey” hunters had strong senses of empathy, then why would they kill animals at all? Why would they practice manifest destiny and enslave their own kind in my era? Even Blake himself was a contradiction, with the ease he slipped into violence and earned that “Bullseye” nickname from—he was a killer. Yet he saved me, and showed a full range of emotions.
“I thought what you felt was a fainter, stunted version of our emotions, yet the humans here claimed to feel strongly.” I spoke to Blake idly, watching the machine make his chest rise and fall; the doctors had hooked him up to several IVs and medical machines, also swapping out his attire for a gown. Seeing him without his hat felt unnatural. “You said you were upset and afraid, and I never even asked. I hope you won’t feel that way when you wake up…but I’m going to ask this time.”
The humans at the hospital said they’d have a translator implant ready, but wouldn’t install it until Blake consented to it. I could hear the sheriff’s voice in my head, calling that technology “a brain-bendin’ kerfuffle” or something like that. They had been kind enough to set up a place I could stay in his room, and the doctors had given me an update: saying that they’d given him blood transfusions, removed the bullet, and stitched the wound. According to them, his vitals were holding steady, and the prognosis was optimistic. I had a screen playing on the far wall, tuned to popular livestreams, to kill the time. They’d given me a new and improved holopad as well, but I’d scrolled enough information about humans and their galactic introduction. I had the audio translator function on, so I could speak to Sheriff Donovan.
“I can show you the entire universe, Blake; your home is so much smaller than you know. Just wake up,” I continued. “I’ll answer all of your questions about blue blood, the different kinds of…star men, or about how I grew up. I don’t want to be rid of you. You’re my favorite monster.”
The human emitted a weak groan, earning my undivided attention; a single binocular eye began to flutter. “Nilrie…sometimes I think ya wanna get punched in the darn face. Almost as great as when you said we ‘evolved’ for more violence ‘en brain pow’r…whatever ya meant by evolved.”
“You don’t know what evolution is?!”
“Fer once, ye could just ‘splain, not treat me like no idiot. I’s very patient with you.” Blake’s terrible pupils blinked open, and his expression quickly morphed to alarm. “Where the hell am I?! What kinda space med’cin’s this?! How’d ya even…we blew up yer ship!”
I raised my paws placatingly, as the sheriff’s narrow gaze raced around. “Easy. I can explain everything.”
“Ya stuck needles in my arm, and yer pumpin’ me full of…clear shit. Get it off; ya ain’t get to stick nothin’ in me!” Blake’s heart rate monitor had spiked, before he began ripping the wires out of his arm, to my alarm. That “shit” saved your life, idiot. “Why the hell’d ye take my clothes? There’s more…videos on the wall, and them glass candles in the roof ain’t look like no fire. I ain’t likin’ this.”
The human had slung his bare, hairy legs over the edge of the bed, as his features contorted into a hideous mask of suspicion. He gritted his teeth, pressing a hand to his wounded stomach while he stumbled. I was nervous to approach Blake in this spooked state—much as he had been when I was skittish around him. His binocular eyes turned toward the window, earning a sharp gasp at the sight of steel buildings and vehicles zipping across roads surrounding him. The sheriff was almost doubled over at this point, but hobbled back in my direction for another moment. For a man who’d been so sure in the face of a deadly confrontation with Marlow, he looked terrified, and utterly unable to understand his new home. Would Bullseye Blake lose it at me when I explained what I’d done, and told him when he was?
“This…yer world?” the predator choked out, eyes bulging wider by the minute.
“No, it’s yours,” I replied cautiously. “Look at the TV…um, the glass playing the videos. See, it’s mostly humans on there.”
“Ya tricked me. Ye got other fire kites.”
“That’s not rational. Calm down, and I’ll tell you what Cornelia and I decided to save you.”
“Cornelia? Where is she? I know she’d come an’ visit, and I don’t see her none. I ain’t playin’, Nilrie.”
It’s a good thing the Federation weren’t the ones who woke Blake up. If they saw a big, ugly beast acting irrationally, primitively, and aggressively, as soon as he woke up, they’d have put him down in a heartbeat. What was I thinking?
I fumbled for what I could say to the simplistic hunter, wondering why he’d turned on me—distrusted me—so suddenly. I thought about how Blake had told me his world had turned upside-down, and how he was terrified of what “star folk” could do; he didn’t know how to deal with it. It was about time I tried to be as empathetic as possible toward him, and offer a better shoulder to cry on. Cornelia had begged me to take care of him, and help him navigate the future, so I couldn’t let her down. He was still the kind man who helped me; he was just overwhelmed and confused. Maybe Sheriff Donovan could understand if I explained with patience, just like he’d suggested.
“Look, I know this is a strange place to you, and you’re afraid. I owe you everything, and I c-care about you…I came up with the only thing I could think of to save your life. Like you told me, I never meant to scare you, only to help.” I inched closer to the human, ignoring his erratic, animalistic pupil motions. “Cornelia…isn’t going to be able to come here, Blake. The last thing she said to me was to tell you she loved you. I’m sorry.”
The fear burned brighter, along with the locking of his jaw. “No. Who hurt my wife? Was it ye—ya shot ‘er, thinkin’ she was a bandit, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t hurt her. Time did, Blake.”
Horror and realization flashed alongside each other. “The cryopod. Notta licka progress…til…yer plucked out real far in the future. That’s exactly how ya put it.”
“Yes.” Blake is decently capable of learning and figuring out the gist of a technology when things are explained to him. “See? Your world.”
“My wife. My kids. Their kids too?” His voice had climbed in pitch, sounding a bit choked with emotion.
I understood the question lurking in those broken fragments. “Yes. Everyone…I knew also. There’s nothing to go home to.”
Human nurses came hurrying in, wearing their scrubs and trying to coax Blake back to his bed. The sheriff seemed to deflate entirely as he saw his own kind, shrinking into the same mask of grief I’d seen with Bourbon—but amplified a hundredfold. My heart broke as the gunslinger collapsed into himself, and his legs gave out alongside his willpower. I’d shuffled close enough to catch him, and pull him against my chest—lending a literal shoulder to cry on. Tears poured freely from the predator’s eyes, and the rattling of his chest reverberated into my bones. His body had gone completely limp, nearly knocking me over as he put zero effort into holding himself upright.
“It’s okay, big guy. It’s my turn to protect you,” I murmured, patting his greasy mane.
“Why would ya do this to me?” Blake grunted in irritation; his face had grown red, as the nurses moved him back to the bed. “Take me ‘way from ever’one I know, and the life I know…the folks I wanna protect! I ain’t want this. Why?!”
“Blake…I offered my cryopod to Cornelia. I knew you’d want her with you, and I was willing to…give up my last hope for you. You deserved to live, and be happy with her, but she wanted to stay and watch your children grow up. I didn’t have my medicine to save you, so this was the only way to have any chance of your survival. She told me to do it. She couldn’t bear losing you, and…I think it made it a little better for her, to know you might continue on some day. I thought that was what you’d want.”
The beast grimaced, lips curving downward. “I…I dunno.”
“Maybe some food would make you feel better? You don’t need hunger weighing on you, when you’re already distressed. This hospital has herbivore meals too, and they have all kinds of foods thanks to refrigeration! I liked the salad bar, which is a great idea. You eat plants, um, so maybe you would too? Or I’m pretty sure they have carcass food for humans.”
“I ain’t hungry. I just wanna be…alone. And have that damn yappin’ video off.”
With a dejected sigh, I turned off the television and trudged out of Blake’s hospital room. I didn’t want to leave him alone, but I intended to honor his wishes; he needed time to process how changed Earth was. Had I done what was right for him? Cornelia had said it couldn’t be sinful to save the people you cared about, but I’d felt guilty when he hurled whys and accusations at me. Maybe the dream of taking him to the stars had been foolish, given how he reacted believing he was on Marna. I assumed he’d be more curious, but he seemed fearful or disinterested at best right now. With the stark differences between humans today and the filthy primitives of his time, it might not be possible for him to acclimate to a technological world.
Or maybe, more simply, since the only family I cared about had died long ago, I had underestimated Blake’s ability to move on from the people he cared about.
---
I sat out in the lobby with a heavy heart for what must’ve been hours, when a nurse came to tell me that the sheriff asked for me. I perked up when I heard that Blake was willing to chat; I’d wanted to tell him everything Matteo Bernardi and internet searches had told me—I’d have to explain the internet bit—and see if he believed it was possible for his kind to have created an “era of peace.” Sheriff Donovan told me that humans had been warring as far back as they existed as a species, and it was difficult to believe they’d suddenly turned from their predatory ways. They still consumed meat and were tainted by it, after all. I wondered if we’d ever have such earnest conversations about Earth and its people again.
My friend was lying haphazardly on his back, a glazed look in his eyes. He didn’t pay me much attention as I entered, looking like a shell of the determined man I knew back in his time.
“Blake?” I called. “Your people have come a long way. I think this time period might have some things you’ll like. For starters, they have plumbing, which means running water and proper fixtures. I can show you what a sink is.”
The human snorted. “I think I done know what a sink is. We had plumbin’ too, just only in them cities, with their big hotels and fancy houses.”
He sounds more like himself, but he’s clearly still shaken up about it. Talking like we used to might be good, to get his mind off his grief.
“You didn’t look like you had any technology more sophisticated than lanterns,” I stated. “I mean, you had horses because you didn’t have vehicles.”
Blake huffed, the fog clearing from his eyes a little. “That ain’t true. We had railroads cross-country, y’know, steam engines that powered them locomotives and the boats. We got telegraphs and daguerreotypes, so we could send messages far off and take photos too. Just like yer all-knowin’ pad.”
Definitely sounds more like himself. Comparing a device that can send terabytes of data in any language or media format, across a solar system, to primitive electric pulses that have to be deciphered is a stretch.
“You want to try to use the pad? I could teach you,” I said. “I don’t think I ever explained the internet. You can ask it anything, and it’ll know the answers…an instant library. Lots of people can all talk to or do activities with each other, live.”
The human’s eyes narrowed. “Why ain’t they do it in person? I wouldn’t wanna have a drink over no fancy telegraph.”
“It’s less like a telegraph, and more like having all of the same input you would have from being here…seeing me, hearing me, cooperating toward a common goal, synchronously…without having to be here. An imitation of being present. A convincing illusion, if you’re cynical about digital interactions.”
“Guess I’m cynical then. That ain’t real if yer just lookin’ at moving pictures of each other and tradin’ ‘em.”
“I think it’s different than being face-to-face, but it is real. Any way you’re connecting with another person is real. Just like it’d be real if you received…letters from your kids, right?”
Blake went quiet again, as I realized my mistake: reminding him of his children. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“I just meant you might like some of the new tech. It lets you do pretty much anything!” Fix this, Nilrie. You’re the idiot. “Here’s some good news, Bullseye Blake. I was wrong about the other aliens…star folk…not talking to you. You have friends who got over your eyes and predation. Also, the Arxur are gone, so none of us have to worry about their attacks. You don’t have to fret how to protect the good humans on Earth!”
“Is that all the good news ye done got?”
I racked my brain, eyes rolling back in thought. “I’m convinced you have medicine now. No really, there must be a lot less sickness and disease. Humans lived in squalor back in your day; I don’t know how you could stand it. You have no excuse to be so stinky anymore.”
Blake lifted his head slightly off the pillow, indignation pushing away the darkness. “I beg yer pardon?”
“You heard me. Running water is the best thing that happened to your species. I can’t have your reek in a spaceship, when I take you on a fire kite to see the stars.”
“Huh? I ain’t sure ‘bout that. How mucha the time do they crash an’ burn? I saw yer wreck.”
“Are you telling me none of your primitive boats or locomotives crashed? You wouldn’t assume they all have accidents because of that.”
“I done hate the way ye frame yer words. Ain’t nobody else I’s taken such insults from.”
“Speaking of which, there’s a better way to insult you than through this rune box. You can have a direct translator injected, so we can have a conversation like normal people. It’s how I understand your words…like a middle man skipping this extra audio step, and putting my words straight into your brain.”
“Naw, that’s witchcraft. Ye are a demon. They’d uh burned ya at the stake a couple uh centuries before me.”
“You burn suspected demons? Why didn’t you warn me earlier? And why would they use immolation?”
“What’s there to say? Fire’s got cleansin’ power. Gets rid uh the impure.”
An LED turned on in my brain. “Like the exterminators?”
Humans did have a primitive understanding of contamination. How ironic: they couldn’t see who to really use it on.
“Who?” Sheriff Donovan barked.
“They…um…burn predators. To purify your contamination. It’s a very similar idea.”
The hunter looked aghast. “They ain’t the least bit sim’lar! Why didn’t you warn me of this earlier?”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hi, my people think you should be burned alive.’ Clearly, you weren’t eager to share that sentiment in the return.”
“Yer people are awful!”
“So are yours. Common ground, monster. I guess we were meant to be friends.”
The human bared his teeth, but after seeing Marlow’s snarl, it was obvious Blake was more amused than anything. I still wasn’t sure why he emoted with such a hostile gesture, but then again, he was a predator. I was glad to have cheered him up a little, and looking forward to showing him the most wondrous parts of the universe—without any clunky box between us. Despite my earlier doubts, I could now feel a bit of hope that my friend was strong enough to find a way forward, and adapt to the transformed world he’d found himself in. We both had nothing left in this radically different galaxy, except trading our weird brand of cultural education with each other.
A/N - Chapter 9! Blake wakes up in the hospital, and is confused to find himself in a major metropolis, with technology and medicine he doesn’t recognize. After an initial freakout, he eventually reaches the conclusion that Nilrie put him in a cryopod; our Takkan tries to explain why he chose to freeze the sheriff, as the cowboy is devastated to realize everyone he loves is long gone. Blake eventually summons Nilrie back. Our smuggler tries to cheer up break by talking about technology like old times and hassling him…and also suggesting a “fire kite” ride.
What do you think of Blake’s reaction to waking up in the future, and whether he’ll be able to come to terms with his new reality? Did Nilrie and Cornelia do the right thing by saving him? Will our cowboy get to go to space, and what would he think of those sights?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting! Krakotl child soldier will release next week, after this series ends, as per your vote!
Comments
Yannis Morris
Nirle doesn't know about sterile medical procedures confirmed (/j. I'm sure he's just being racist)
EliasArt2Life
He learned it from Nilrie earlier in the story. Though, I admit he’s learned how to properly use it quickly.
David Bollinger
I don't think Blake would know the word "video" to be able to use it.
jetpacksuperman
NO NOT PORTLAND
