The Nature of Predators - Wild West (3/11)

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Memory Transcription Subject: Nilrie, Takkan Smuggler

Date [standardized human time]: April 6, 1851

The sheriff’s wife seemed surprised by our swift retreat back into their home, but clearly, Blake thought the “bandit” was a threat to me. Marlow had little reaction at all to seeing an alien, which was a bit peculiar; there was no question he was predator-diseased, and not someone who should be part of the herd. Then again, these humans didn’t seem advanced enough to have facilities. Why did diseased behavior look so natural on this species though? I could intuit that they were a threat to my welfare, and sense that there was something off about them.

“That
Marlow didn’t show any emotion at seeing me, not even surprise,” I told the sheriff.

Blake narrowed his intolerable eyes. “If yer lookin’ for emotion from that sociopath, yer not gonna find it. He’s seein’ dollar signs. Yer his gold mine, a real big score. Steer clear of ‘im.”

“He sounds like the Fissans and the Nevoks.”

“I dunno who or what those are.”

“Two species always looking for an angle for monetary gain.”

“Hmph, I already don’t like ‘em. Don’t sound too different from us.”

Maybe that’s all that’s wrong with them
just primitive hypercapitalists.

I still avoided looking at the human, seeing the piercing gaze of a hunter in his misleading eyes. “Ahem. Why don’t you, um, tell me about yourself? Do you have any children?”

“We sure do,” he grunted, putting his hat back on the counter; he’d already shed his footwear. “They all grown up and moved out by now, but we got two of ‘em. Our oldest, Audrey, she done moved out to marry some farmer boy in Virginia. Our boy, Jesse, he stayed local when he settled down—comes home an’ visits for Christmas and all. He’s just a few towns over, so you’ll meet ‘im if you’re here long enough.”

See, they’re not at all like predators. They raised their children, and the kids stay in touch out of sentiment. Marlow is the dangerous one, that’s all.

“What is this place?” I asked.

The human spread his hands. “This ‘ere is Corvallis, Oregon. We’re the frontier, pushing west an’ tryin’ to settle more uh the land the USA’s got. Untapped territory, a chance to make it big and grow our say-so.”

“You haven’t even settled your entire planet yet?! This is hopeless.”

“Hey, why ya judgin’ me? You telling me you carved out every ol’ corner of yer land back home?”

“Yes, as well as other worlds. When the Arxur
happened, a lot of my people wanted to flee as far away as possible, which means going
many, many stars away, Blake. It was a whole mess, and millions of our people fled in what we call the Diaspora—either going to other prey species’ homes, or just running into the unknown. Takkans that stayed behind had to try to defend what was left.”

“I see. You talk to these
other prey species on the regular?”

“Our governments work together, and we’re in regular communication; we talk about how to handle predator threats, and how to live together peacefully and preserve civilization.”

Blake pursed his lips. “Would they talk to us? These spacefolk?”

“I don’t know. How do I put this? Your
your face is problematic. Your eyes are genuinely horrifying; I get a knot in my stomach when they look at me. I don’t mean to insult you, but you should know
being reminded of predators while talking is a tough sell. I am sorry that the universe cursed you with these looks: it’s not your fault.”

The human seemed taken aback, not knowing how to react to that statement. I couldn’t blame him, but I felt obligated to crush his hopes from the start. Those eyes would strike fear and dread into any prey creature’s heart; I didn’t know how they managed to look in the mirror each morning. Blake’s hand tightened, suggesting my comments had upset him. The appendage uncurled to grab his hat, and he issued a long sigh. The primitive shuffled back toward the door, disinterested in conversation. I felt a bit guilty, but it wasn’t meant to be unkind—only to portray the reality of their predator resemblance.

“Why don’t ye go keep to yer quarters? We need some time to ourselves, process all this,” Blake said in a deflated voice. “Don’t lay a finger
or whatever that three-fold shit is called
on my wife while I’m gone.”

I tilted my head. “Where are you going? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings; I was just trying to be upfront with you.”

“I’m gonna go talk to the other deputies, see if I can wrangle up some help to keep ya safe from Marlow. I
there’s a lot that needs to be said, Nilrie, if we’re gonna try an’ protect ourselves from all this. Just do what I said an’ keep low, okay?”

“Okay. I
I’ll give you some space. Thank you for everything, truly.”

“Thank Cornelia. This all been her idea.”

Blake turned swiftly, and I noticed that he hadn’t been looking at me for the last bit of the conversation; the poor thing must’ve taken my comment about the eyes to heart. I shouldn’t have told him that the Federation wouldn’t accept him
or at least not suggested the exact reason why. Remembering that he said to leave his wife alone, I didn’t dare approach Cornelia to chat or offer apologies. Truth be told, I was afraid of the sheriff. Prey or not, I couldn’t deal with him if he started to look angry, or switched into that authoritative voice he used with Marlow. 

With guilt racking my heart, I climbed into bed and tried to think about how to make things right with the humans.

---

I must’ve drifted off while scrolling through a holobook, because I was woken by voices. My ears perked up, realizing Blake had returned from his trip into town. The male was speaking with his spouse in a hushed voice, which caught my attention. Trying to be careful with my noise level, I crept out toward the kitchen; part of me still was suspicious of what they didn’t want me to find out. What if they were plotting to abandon me to Marlow, because I’d insulted their eyes? No, that couldn’t be—prey wouldn’t abandon a herd member in need. Eyes watering, I inched closer.

“Cornelia, I’m telling ya, we need to make sure he don’t come out ‘ere. Cuff him back to the bed
barricade the door,” Donovan grumbled. “Ya ain’t heard what he said. Not all of it.”

The female human sighed. “Locking Nilrie back up again won’t make him react any more positively to us. Maybe we should just tell him. I’d do it; I have a gentler touch, Blake.”

“He can’t even look at us because our eyes remind ‘im of predators. He gonna find out and treat us like a buncha coyotes. No, I won’t let ya put yerself ‘round him. Lord knows what he’ll do.”

“What did your deputies have to say?”

“I was keen on movin’ him out of our house, to the jail, where they can deal with Marlow and his folk. I got the feelin’ my men ain’t gonna protect Nilrie. Preacher Collins is goin’ around sayin’ that the spaceman’s a demon, and the townfolk are pretty worked up. We got a real problem on our hands.”

“That’s
not good. We have to figure out a new plan, as much as I’d like him to stay here. I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way.”

“I don’t wanna be in harm’s way neither; even less do I want you runnin’ into some scoundrels. Let’s just eat, ‘fore he wakes up. Keep yer eyes and ears peeled.”

“Secrecy isn’t the best approach.”

“It’s the best one I done got for now. I’m done talkin’ ‘bout this.”

I could hear the sounds of silverware scraping plates, and wondered why they were eating without me. Blake said that they wanted time to themselves to reckon with all that they’d learned, but my curiosity outweighed my respect for that request. A heartfelt apology was the least I could do; he couldn’t resent me for that. I crept forward as stealthily as possible, not wanting them to hear me coming, in case they offered up any other useful information. I also wanted to figure out what the secrecy was about. The humans in the town thought I was a “demon?” Perhaps they were too primitive to understand aliens, yet the sheriff and his wife seemed to at least get the concept of “other people from the stars.” 

I finally peeked around the corner, and my heart dropped in my chest. Blake and Cornelia Donovan were chowing down on something definitively more sinister than oats; the urge to retch warred with the sensation to scream, as I saw these humans gnawing at a pink cutlet that was some kind of
charred animal tissue. I’d had it right the first time, when I knew their faces belonged to a predator! Why would a beast lower itself to eat plants—that demon had tricked me, and it worked like a charm! I spilled everything about our values and technology, even showing it an Arxur raid that it could model; it’d probably told its deputies to spread the word to begin planning for a distant future.

These are monsters, with no qualms about filling their stomach with dead animal bits; I ate off their fucking cutlery. I’ve got to get out here before I’ve exhausted my purposes. This is the most unsafe place I could be
Marlow is what they really are, toying with prey, and it just couldn’t control itself.

Blake stood up, slamming its bony fist on the table. “Come out, Nilrie. I can hear ya sniveling, fallin’ all over yerself. Face me like a man.”

I crawled out with my belly pressed to the ground, shaking from what I had just seen; they were going to kill me now that I knew their secret. These predators were hungry and eating flesh right now, so how could they resist diving into an exotic catch like me? I fell on the floor, weeping, and managing to beg for mercy. That was a stupid thing to do, since that was the sort of behavior predators got their laughs on; what else could I do? I couldn’t believe I listened to a word this primitive, disgusting, repulsive, binocular-eyed abomination said. It was a violent beast, and I crafted excuses for it, for its obviously faulty act.

“Is this what ya wanted, Cornelia? Ya wanted ‘im to know?” Blake hissed at its wife.

The female placed a hand on the male’s wrist, as if restraining him. “Calm your tone. Let’s just talk this out. Look how terrified the poor thing is.”

“He told me we’re horrifying to look at. He seen us ‘eat flesh.’ There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

“Just try, please.”

The sheriff’s calculating eyes turned to eviscerating slits, and it jabbed a finger in my direction, marking me for the kill. “You think I’m a monster, after everything I done for ye. Put ya under my roof, fed ya, saved yer life. I ain’t done nothin’ to ya.”

“You are
a m-monster. You m-must
k-kill each other, enslaving w-weaker individuals, wars
instincts for b-blood and suffering,” I stammered. “You live by k-killing, carcass-muncher. And what, you ‘protect’ killers from w-worse fiends?”

“We AIN’T like them Arxur. I keep order, order instead of lawlessness. I don’t wanna hear no more of that talk and disrespect.”

“B-because I’m right.” 

“Because ya insult me in my own home when I’m the reason yer not bled out in no sand. You came to our home and we done took ya in. Ya wanna go fend for yerself? Be my guest. Walk out that door; ye won’t make it a day.”

Blake returned to munching on its flesh cutlet, hideous eyes searing into my skull like a challenge. I sealed my gaze shut, not wanting to see that depraved savage wolf down flesh bits. Its words connected in my brain, at least the part about “not making it a day.” The sheriff had claimed me as its plaything, and was warding off the openly-snarling fiends who couldn’t even imitate emotions. How long could I evade a planet of sapient predators hunting me down, without Donovan’s protection? Hadn’t it just said the entire town wanted to maul me because of their blood cult preacher working them into a frenzy? I had no choice but to rely on this abomination. 

“P-please help me,” I whimpered. “I don’t w-want to be eaten alive.”

“You’re just scaring Nilrie more, Blake.” Cornelia stood from the table, approaching me. “We should be making him feel better. Turn the other cheek, remember?”

The sheriff’s eyes widened with alarm, and he hurried after his wife. “Cornelia, what are you doing? Get back; he is dangerous!”

My sobbing intensified as the female human approached, and I shied away from the beast. Her eyebrows furrowed, while its lips curved down in consternation; it placed a hand ever so gently on my shoulder, and dabbed at the tears with a handkerchief. It murmured assurances that I would be okay, and that they didn’t want to hurt me. That mystified me, enough to ease my tears a little. Blake seemed furious and frightened at the same time, pulling Cornelia away from me with a sudden burst of strength. The sheriff placed its wife behind it, and panted for several seconds. It was a beast guarding a possession, surely.

Why was Cornelia playing nice; did it think that simple trick would convince me?

“Nilrie, my plan was to move ya, and no time like the present. I’m packing a few supplies and gettin’ my rifle, then we’re leavin’, right now,” Blake growled. 

I forced myself to stand, not wanting to get torn apart for Cornelia approaching me. “Y-yes. Okay. T-thanks.”

Out of my unwilling periphery, I noticed something I didn’t expect to see next to the remains of that slaughtered animal; the humans were eating plants with their carcasses, despite the fact they hadn’t needed a performance for me. It didn’t make sense for a hunter to sustain itself on leaves. What the literal fuck were these freaks? It was almost as if their behavior was half-prey, half-vile predator. Their settlements were more social by nature than the Arxur, so perhaps they had some rudimentary herd instincts. They’d demonstrated a simplistic ability to read my feelings.

Blake stomped out the door, all but pushing me out with it. I noticed its eye movements jerking around more than normal, and the accelerated pace of its breathing. Either it was in a bloodlusting state of mind from earlier having been eating creatures from my part of the food chain, or it was afraid of me. I thought about the way its mouth twitched when I confirmed it was a monster, and stared at the creases next to its eye. Was this nightmarish fiend upset, hurt even, that I called it out for what it was?

“W-why are you p-protecting me?” I choked out.

The human slumped its shoulders. “Because it’s the right thing to do. It’s what I do.”

“I s-shouldn’t have talked about your species’ k-killing. Yeah. T-that was wrong, sure.”

“No. I seen the worst in people, Nilrie. We do real terrible shit to each other. I still believe most folk are good at heart, tryin’ to do the right thing, but it don’t always seem so obvious. I just try to keep the monsters at bay, and be an honest man. Ye ain’t gotta hate me. I wish you
wouldn’t.”

The predator stalked toward its horse, a prey animal it’d made into a slave. There was sincerity even through that grating, blood-curdling register; maybe Blake Donovan was trying to be as “moral” as a hunter could be, though there was only so much of the animal it could cage. If it truly believed what it said about keeping order among a bunch of violent primitives, it had an impossible task in front of it. The human had to be tough and dominant to get the other savages in line. Still, moments before, I’d seen this terror gorging itself on prey skin—it couldn’t be trusted. It was not prey, even if it tried to cancel out the blood’s derangement effect with plants.

“Going somewhere?” a cold voice barked behind us.

I turned to see a mob of diabolical beasts pushing their way through the streets, guided by none other than Marlow. The bandit had its lips curved upward, gleeful at the prospect of having us at its mercy. Another human tailed close behind, wielding a black book in front of it like a shield; that was an assumption, that these simple beasts could even read or write. If it was literature, it was likely about the best ways to capture and skin prey. The book-grasper was wearing long black attire, with a white collar; it seemed to be some authority figure, since it was leading alongside Marlow.

Suddenly more than willing to put my loyalties with the sheriff, I moved closer to Blake Donovan and hoped that he’d strike down this lawless throng.

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A/N - Part 3! After learning a bit about the frontier, Marlow, and telling Blake his eyes are horrid, Nilrie discover the truth about humanity
after spotting a meal that’s not oats. The sheriff isn’t pleased with the insults after he saved Nilrie’s life, and decides our Takkan needs to go somewhere else, for Cornelia’s safety. Our narrator is unsure what to make of his savior, who admits that he’s seen the worst of humans, before he’s greeted by our troublesome bandit—now returned with a preacher and a mob. How will Sheriff Donovan get out of this predicament, if he can at all; and what will he do with Nilrie even if they do escape? Will Nilrie ever accept humanity, after the recent things he has witnessed?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!