The Nature of Predators - Sovlin’s Transcript (10/13)

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Memory transcription subject: Talpin, Gojid Activist

Date [standardized human time]: March 3, 2150

The predators hadn’t frightened me for a long time, but this would be my first return to Earth since the refugee camps were relocated from Sol to Skalga. I’d stuck to clawing through battles on Khoa and within the Sapient Coalition as a whole, and the human homeworld wasn’t in need of massive overhauls for basic accommodations; my fight wasn’t there. As many prey sapients that had moved to the so-called blue marble, there were a great many citizens that would think of Earth in the same breath as being lost in the wilderness. It was a dangerous place to the more conservative elements within the Sapient Coalition.

Rinio, a deaf Mazic teacher, was traveling to Earth for the first time after seven years of matrimony; he often said he’d found his soulmate in Lily. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the human homeworld, any more than a slight discomfort. His extended family and his wife’s place of origin were all there, as well as the culture that gave us our liberation. I doubted a prey creature could fall in love with an unsightly beast and hold onto such…reservations anyway. It was rather Lily who’d avoided going home since the bombing. I’d never forget finding her outside in the refugee camp, lying in the rain without her prosthetic. 

When I pushed them both to come with me, I knew why she stayed away. Lily’s city, the famous and iconic New York, had long since vanished. Her work as a UN sign interpreter had given her purpose in helping others, like me, to live a full life and seek better treatment. It felt invigorating that I was invited as the keynote speaker to Terra Technologies’ launch of the new translator patch. The update would incorporate hundreds of forms of sign language built for each species (including the ubiquitous tail language to help out human users); I wouldn’t even need my keyboard to talk to the hearing world. I could make gestures, and the meaning would be pressed into their brain without an interim. 

It’s the culmination of our journey, all that we’ve sought in terms of equality and accessibility. I suppose if a translator can derive meaning by decoding audio sounds, there’s no reason it couldn’t learn to unravel gestures.

Rinio signed with his trunk. “Tal, what are you going to say at your speech today?”

“I think I’ll talk about my heroes then, and my heroes today.” I returned with claw gestures, and nodded at Lily. “All that I am able to do is because of her. I will never forget the people who displayed compassion when no others would. Do you remember what you signed to me about Sovlin?”

The human hovered close to Rinio’s side. “We don’t stoop to a cruel person’s level. If we do, we’re no better than them.”

“Exactly. I took that to heart, especially after seeing that Terrans continued to live it even after Earth; I hope it’s comforting to see the fruits of you taking the high road. My sister is able to live as an independent Gojid without worrying about me, back on the rebuilt cradle; her confectionary was quite inspired by you! The candied fruits and taffies, the joy in her eyes. You’ve brought millions of people like me from darkness and abandon. This world is hope incarnate.”

“I’d like to think we’ll be appreciated one day. Our culture has spread far and wide, but influence…” Lily cast her gaze upward at the Space Needle, standing tall even among the skyscrapers. It was a symbol that humans would build to reach new heights and inspire their cohorts, the most defining feature of her kind. “Influence doesn’t make them comfortable with the real thing. Herbivores are waiting to condemn us, and not for the candied fruits and taffies. Hm. I wonder why you bring up the ‘cruel person’ adage now, in the context of your speech.”

“Oh, because Sovlin wasn’t the only cruel Gojid around. My entire society spat on me and treated me like a less-than. An obligation of the herd, which the predators would be logical, almost justified, to cull. There were some who said that it would be a mercy had I died to the Arxur. It’s sometimes hard to confront my people and those injustices, when even the hero I looked up to was as heartless as them. I see cruel people all around, every time we have to clamor for slight gains and any semblance of normalcy for ‘my kind.’”

“But we don’t stoop to their level,” Rinio finished. “That’s a good speech. You can say that instead, we climb like the Space Needle, and know that we—that humans—are far above them in the realm of kindness.”

“Exactly. I picked a better hero to look up to; someone persistent, in more than a cheeky claw flick to your infamous ancestral hunting ways. Someone who faced adversity with defiance and showed me that pushing past it was a sign of strength. Lily, I will always admire you. When I think to react in anger or without the durable patience that our outreach mandates, I ‘hear’ your words in spite of my deafness. And I choose to be better than the herd.”

Tears welled in Lily’s eyes, and she pressed a hand to her heart in the way humans did when moved. “When you put it like that, it’s a damn fine speech. Part of me wants to applaud you and insist on you using those words exactly, while another part of me feels your speech should be about you—celebrating your victory as the face of every deaf person who suffered under the Federation. I’m not the hero of this story, just a helper.”

“No. You’re my only hero who hasn’t disappointed or forsaken me. I wouldn’t have done any of this without my inspiration—the one who gave me the ability to start this journey in the first place. This victory is ours. I want to celebrate humanity, the helpers.”

“As do I. It’s an honor to walk on your soil, and finish our journey where it truly started,” Rinio added. “Welcome home, love.”

Lily smiled, dabbing at her eyes with her shirt sleeve. “Thank you. Everything that I did, it was only because you deserved better. The injustice is that we weren’t around to help sooner.”

“Your help would not have been trusted sooner. You were rejected when you tried. In that regard, you deserved far better than bastards like Captain Sovlin gave you too.”

Memory transcription subject: Sovlin, Gojid Retiree

Date [standardized human time]: May 10, 2151

I found the present ease of communication for deaf individuals, thanks to Terran initiatives, to be one of their most upstanding innovations. At least I wouldn’t be stuck waiting for a device to spit out the meaning, much like Noah and Sara when Tarva accepted their first contact hail; I wondered what those humans thought when the alien started talking back. Nowadays, I knew it wasn’t, “Ooh, yummy prey, bloodlust good.” It all must’ve been shocking. I knew that the primates didn’t think in terms of a predator/prey schism, so they were most certainly afraid of us—especially when they heard that I had come with war ships and would capture them at best.

Governor Tarva was very right on that matter; I wouldn’t have listened to predators coming “in peace” back then, and Doctor Zarn would’ve told me exactly who they were if a sliver of doubt crept in. The Gojids’ plans to attack Earth would’ve happened sooner, and they wouldn’t have had the chance to stop us. 

Tarva saved this world and humanity from me, though I knew better than to ask her forgiveness on this tour of old faces. The governor had been horrified and incensed, as someone who was present when Marcel was wheeled back on death’s door. She had wanted me jailed by her kind’s laws for Slanek, and rightfully so; I’d thrown an injured Venlil in a cell with a predator I was certain would eat him, out of rage for his defense of Marcel. I wouldn’t have believed humans, of course, but why couldn’t I at least have heard the Venlil out? A better captain would’ve consulted the proof from those empathy tests that I was offered.

“Yoo-hoo, Earth to Baldy. Are you sure that Talpin will react negatively to you?” Sam asked, as the call rang unanswered.

[Transcript date changed to October 18, 2136]

I could understand the deaf adolescent’s amazement that the predators’ hadn’t given me the punishment I deserved. He had looked so furious, stewing after I had told him the truth of what I’d done; that was how I should be looked at, not as a hero, so I was happy to squash my own mythos as much as I could. My shame suggested that I should hide away, since it was obvious they didn’t want to travel with me. However, I was very keen to hear how Talpin and Berna—along with the rest of my people saved from the cradle—had fared in the Gojid refugee camps.

“T-Talpin, I just want you to know…” I began, croaking a few words to get his translating device’s attention.

The deaf Gojid’s claws hovered over his keyboard, and he curled his lip at me—perhaps having grown fond of that gesture from the predators and their menacing teeth unveilings. “You betrayed everything I believed about you. You are a cruel savage that shouldn’t call yourself a Gojid; or maybe you should, since you’re just like all the horrible people. You are the worst monster of all. You have no right to argue for our welfare, and the Federation shouldn’t hear a word you say. I will never forgive what you’ve done, as long as you draw breath!”

[Transcript date changed to May 10, 2151]

I sighed, giving Sam a morose look through the screen. “Yes, he was unequivocal. I also understand that he gave a speech denouncing his old heroes just the past year, so time hasn’t cooled the embers that much. Perhaps Talpin is the only one who sees me as I am.”

“Sovlin, that’s not true. You’re a war hero to humanity, in spite of—” the human responded.

The holopad screen divided into two segments, as Talpin answered the call. “Hello, Samantha. You know, I’ve often felt sorry for you having to guard him, and negotiate with him just to determine how to help me.”

“Okay, cut the bullshit. It’s been fifteen years, and the grumpy old prick has tried to make things right. Why don’t you just let him apologize? You don’t have to accept it.”

“Back when Lily signed those words, you said that Sovlin deserved to live with what he’s done. He’s not. He got away with everything, living free and without the hatred his name should bring. I would never stoop to his level of cruelty, because I am better than him. That doesn’t mean his crimes deserved no punishment or disdain. Sovlin was the worst Gojid of them all.”

“Oh c’mon, he’s not—”

I keeled over, lowering my eyes in shame. “You’re right, Talpin. You’re right.”

The deaf Gojid seemed surprised. “What?”

“I know everything that I’ve done. My friend, Carlos—he was my fucking friend—told me that not seeing anyone too different as a person is the belief that makes monsters of us all. I suspect you know exactly what that means, from the herd not seeing you as a person. I’m a monster, not a hero—I just wanted to hurt someone because I hurt! You feel betrayed by the ugly person I am, and you have every right, Talpin. I’m sorry. I wish you never admired me.”

“I…monsters of us all. Is that really why everyone has always been so cruel? We’re all just monsters.”

“Yes. We can be. I let every dark emotion win. I made every bad decision I could and kept pushing further down this path. Whatever you accuse me of, I already know. If it gives you any comfort to know you’re not the only one who saw it, that’s why I extend this message. I’m a bad man.”

“Stop it!” Sam chastised me. “You’re not a bad man. You changed so much, Sovlin, and risked your life and limb to save the galaxy. I’m a hardass and I forgave you. Talpin’s problem is he saw you as an ideal, and can’t square that your crotchety, depressed ass got lucky on a suicide mission. That’s why you were propped up to fame in the first place.”

“Then revenge became the sedative that got me through the days.”

“Do you hear that, Talpin? Does that sound like someone living it up, or someone living with everything in his past every day? As a woman who lost her entire family, I know which one I fucking believe.”

The deaf Gojid didn’t return any sign language for a long moment. “I looked up to you. I needed hope, but this was clearly not a realistic picture. You know that you are cruel and you know why, so I suppose…you are not the worst Gojid. I can also see the merit in Sam’s arguments that you do live with what you’ve done, daily.”

“If you believe nothing else I say, hear this. Had I known that humans would spare and release me, I would’ve dropped myself out that airlock back on my ship,” I growled.

There was a long pause. “I believe you. Let us go our separate ways now, without any more hatred. Let us be…better than the herd.”

“That’s as low a bar as you can set.” I stared at the intelligent activist who’d pioneered so many new rights, and saw in his face—heard in the reminders of what the herd had done—the story of Jolvanis. Recel’s brother could’ve had a full life, if people like Talpin had finished their work before his birth. “I wish you well, Talpin. I always valued your life, as much as any other person.”

Doubt flashed in the deaf Gojid’s eyes, before he disconnected from the call. I noticed that the few bristles I had left were about to pop out of my spine, fearful from hearing many of the words that I’d known I deserved for a long time. My plan to be better than the herd started with sampling meat, but I needed to end on a friendly old-time face to pep myself up for that. Talpin and Berna hadn’t been our only company when we went to plead with Nikonus. Perhaps it was time to see what Cilany, the first alien citizen of Earth and a reporter with stalwart integrity, had to say about that visit to Aafa.

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A/N - Sovlin 10, double digits! We see what became of Talpin on Khoa, along with translator Lily from his side story, as they continued their activism and were key speakers for the unveiling of a sign language update to visual translators. Sovlin, Tal’s former hero, was replaced by Lily and humanity—who weren’t cruel like the here. The elderly Gojid remembers well how betrayed Tal felt, and tries to explain that he was never that heroic figure to begin with, just a man with a death wish. Sam defends Baldy, insisting to Tal that Sovlin is in his own daily hell.

What do you think about Talpin’s lasting bitterness toward Sovlin, and his eventual reluctant agreement to go their separate ways without it? Will the last guest on Sovlin’s tour (Cilany) hype him up for the meat tasting, or try to talk him down?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!