The Nature of Predators - Why the Caged Bird Sings (3/11) (Patreon)

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Memory Transcription Subject: Cala, Krakotl Child Prisoner

Date [standardized human time]: July 21, 2137

The stuffed animals that Andrew brought me to teach me zoo-all-ogy were really cool!  His ideas about predators being necessary to the environment were kind of funny; Mama would’ve said they were predator-diseased, but then again, the exterminators were wrong about a lot and did bad things. I probably shouldn’t believe that part of what Mama told me either. What the human said about meat-eaters hunting to survive, not because of bloodlust, made a little sense. If it was between flesh and starving, or they needed some carcass chemical, then I understood why they did it. I’d studied really hard when he’d shown me stuff about the food chain, and I was listening as closely as possible about how “prey populations getting out of control” could destroy the environment.

“Krakotl are a prey population, Andy,” I told the human, parting my beak in thought. “Does that mean us living is…bad? That we should let predators eat us?”

The guard had shook his head, which I’d learned was a gesture for no. “Of course not, Cala. People can have devastating impacts on the environment, but Krakotl aren’t simple animals. Prey aren’t necessarily even supposed to get eaten, any more than predators are supposed to burn. Prey evolve to avoid getting eaten, and have strategies for survival—they don’t make it easy on the hunters. It’s really a contest of who can play their role better.”

“But you’re saying the exterminators stopping predators from eating prey animals is bad. That they hurt Nishtal.”

“Yes, Cala. The ecosystem hinges on balance. Too many predators, too skilled of predators, or simply predators where they don’t belong can have devastating effects as well. Prey can be killed faster than they can reproduce, and go extinct—then the predators starve as well. A total collapse…like ripping out the bottom blocks in those towers you built.”

I thought back to how I’d tried to recreate the marsh stilt towers from home, and how easy they were to knock over. “I think I get it. If there’s too many prey, they eat all the plants. If there’s too many predators, they eat all the prey!”

“Very good! Now, did you follow the pictures of the three types of animals?”

I practiced the motions with my beak, trying to make sure I said the words right. “Omnivore. Herbivore. Carnivore. I already knew the last two!”

“That makes this easy to remember, since omnivore just means both. They eat both plants and meat, which makes it a bit more complicated than going herbivore…prey…and carnivore…predator.”

“Then would omnivores be both predator and prey?”

Andrew nodded. “Pretty much. They can factor in on both sides of the balance equation: eating too many plants or too much prey. Not all creatures who eat meat are even predators. It’s not simple the way the exterminators teach you.”

“You’re tricking me, to see if I’m smart. Predators eat animals, dead or alive—the animals have to die.”

“A ‘predator’ is a creature that hunts, Cala. What if the meat-eater didn’t kill the animals, but just ate whatever it found? That’s what we call a ‘scavenger.’ Does that make sense?”

“I guess so. I’ve never heard of any of this before.”

“The exterminators weren’t interested in understanding anything that wasn’t strictly an herbivore; they just wanted to kill it with fire. They’ll tell you predators can’t care about anything, when that’s just not true. There’s solitary and pack predators, and the latter form bonds and cooperate to provide for themselves.”

“We know about pack predators! Mama said humans had packs.”

Andrew drew a weary breath. “Well, Cala, your mother wasn’t wrong on that. We are pack predators. It’s just more complicated than us being mindless monsters. We’re omnivores, who started eating meat because it was the only way our…brains could function. We needed a very specific vitamin we can’t make ourselves, or we literally die.”

I cast a horrified glance at the guard; had he really just admitted to being a predator? Predators were supposed to be angry, people-eating creatures, who’d stop at nothing—like the Arxur. If humans were both prey and predator…somehow snacking on plants and dead animals…maybe the exterminators hadn’t lied. Then again, Andrew claimed Mama and her friends were killing hunters because they didn’t understand them; I knew for sure that they hadn’t known about omnivores, and anything more complicated than predator-and-prey. I didn’t really believe Andy would eat me, and he didn’t seem to like suffering. If he was at least partially an herbivore, but would die without flesh; I didn’t want him to die. 

Why is Andrew being nice to me, if he just wants to raid Nishtal and kill Krakotl? He’s not doing very good at the side of him that has a…role to kill prey. I’m trying to listen and understand, but he’s definitely tasted blood. Does that make him contaminated? What about if he has instincts that show up every now and then?

“I killed…half-prey?” I squawked uncertainly.

Andrew frowned, slumping his shoulders. “That’s right, Cala. Omnivores. It’s why I guess we understand both sides of the coin. Our ancestors hunted, and were hunted. Eventually, we played both roles so well that nobody could contend with us. We don’t even have to hunt anymore; we print meat the way you would print a perch.”

“Do you…have predator instincts? Be honest, please.”

“To kill? No. We like chasing things for fun, searching for hidden stuff or people, or just sneaking up on other creatures to startle them as a joke. It doesn’t hurt anyone, but it originates from hunting behavior. Our pack instincts, seeking bonds and social approval, are honestly much stronger.”

“Is that why you’re nice to me? For…bonds?”

“Our nurture instinct is pretty strong with children, Cala, but yes, we can pack-bond with things that aren’t human. We have a strong sense of empathy.”

“You have empathy, but kill and eat animals? How can you do that and not feel bad, even if it’s to survive?”

Andrew tilted his head. “You eat plants, Cala. They have feelings, you know. Would you eat a plant that could talk to you?”

“No.”

“Exactly. We don’t eat animals that can talk, because that means they’re people. We prioritize empathy for people.”

“That’s why you won’t eat Krakotl.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. The thought makes me want to puke. Look, I have to tell you one more thing that you won’t like, about omnivores. The Krakotl…are half-prey too. Before the Federation found you, your people ate meat and plants, just like us.”

I laughed in the predator’s face, thinking that Andrew was telling an unbelievable joke; however, my chuckles fizzled out as his features remained solemn and serious. That didn’t make any sense, so he must be wrong. I knew that I ate plants, and that eating flesh was bad. We had the best exterminators in the galaxy, and the grown-ups hated and feared hunters. We didn’t raid other planets, like violent predators were supposed to…unless I counted Earth. The Krakotl wanted to stop the humans from spreading through the galaxy, because they were “omnivores.” Why would we be so opposed to “half-prey” if that’s what we were? Why didn’t the Federation kill us, the way they wouldn’t put up with the humans? I tilted my head, not understanding.

Krakotl don’t have hunting instincts; I know, because I am one. We’re not hungry thinking about meat, and we don’t have binocular eyes.

“Krakotl would occasionally go for fish,” Andrew continued, his voice a deep rumble. “The leader of the Federation admitted it, and we found some documentation to support it.”

I shoved the holopad he pushed toward me away, but not before I could see an image of a Krakotl, talons extended, snatching a living creature from the water. “No! I don’t want to hunt. That’s not what we do. Predators don’t stop being predators.”

“I don’t want to hunt any more than you do, Cala. If someone makes predators allergic to meat—which means it’ll kill them if they eat it—they won’t eat it. The Federation forced you to be herbivores and lied to you, while the exterminator guild passed on those lies. They passed them on really well, making you forget it’s even possible to be omnivores.”

“So we’re…bad? Killers?”

“Absolutely not! All living creatures have a role to play; predators aren’t supposed to burn, or without any good qualities. You know that you have empathy and feelings, which is why it’s not so crazy that humans would too. We’re the same, and there’s nothing wrong with either of us. I think…it’s cool to be an omnivore. You know why?”

I shook my head at Andrew, mirroring the human gesture I’d learned. He smiled, clearly appreciating that.

“Because we can be whatever we want, Cala. We come balanced on the inside, just the way nature should be,” the omnivore said. “We appreciate all sides of life. I told you, all along, we just wanted friends—we cared about them being people, not what diet they followed. Do you think that’s bad?”

Once more, I tossed my head from side-to-side in the negative.

Andrew flashed his teeth. “Good. Then I think we both should be given a chance.”

“I can agree with that!” I chirped. “But I don’t get why you have the evil eyes, and we don’t…if we’re both predators.”

“Binocular eyes don’t exclusively define predator and prey, Cala.” Andrew picked up a bright green stuffed animal from his box, which looked a bit like a noodle; he must’ve been planning this part of the lesson. “This is a snake. Snakes are carnivores, so not even half-prey. They’re venomous, they swallow animals whole—very predatory and dangerous! They’re actually an animal we naturally fear, because they used to eat us; they’re one of humans’ natural predators. See how we’ve been prey?”

I stared at the snake, noticing that it had side-facing, Arxur-like eyes. “How could snakes eat you? They don’t have legs. You could just run away.”

“Well, they could bite you from the grass, and some of their venom paralyzes you or slowly stops your heart. If you’re thinking that’s scary, I’d tend to agree. They also slither way faster than you’d think…as fast as we can run. Some are much bigger than this stuffed animal.”

“I don’t like snakes. This predator should burn, at least?” I folded my wings back, noticing how disappointed Andy looked. “Does the snake even have a useful role, if it hunts you? You said people shouldn’t get eaten.”

“We don’t let humans get eaten; nothing that kept going after us is still alive today, let’s say. We are apex, Cala, for a reason—because we don’t let anyone mess with us. But we don’t burn things because we’re afraid of them. Without snakes, rodent populations would go off the rails. Our crops would die, because the herbivores would eat them. Additionally, snakes are prey for different types of animals—birds being pretty commonly their predators. You’d scare a snake.”

“I wouldn’t eat that gross thing…with ven-um. Yuck!”

“Focus. My point was that their eyes have nothing to do with what they eat, or their character. Neither do ours. Humans lived in trees long ago, and needed depth perception to swing from tree-to-tree. That’s why our eyes are like this. A lot of predators have them too, but it’s for that same reason—judging distances. As birds with a sky view, it suits you to see as wide around as possible, and find a needle in a haystack. So Krakotl eat fish, but have side-facing eyes.”

“We don’t fly around looking for stuff anymore.”

“And we don’t live in trees anymore. Unless there’s evolutionary pressure for our eyes to change, they won’t. I guess that’s my last item to teach you today. Are you familiar with natural selection: ‘the survival of the fittest?’”

I jabbed a wingtip toward him in accusatory fashion. “I know those words! Mama talked about the Ark-sur. Predators leave people who can’t survive on their own to die instead of helping them, and call it ‘survival of the fittest!’”

“That is not what it means; we view human life as valuable, and take care of our own. Let’s say we lived in the wilds though, and snakes were still hunting us. Imagine they’re less likely to eat humans with…blond hair, for some reason. Less chance of being attacked, less chance of them dying to snake predation compared to the others. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Blond hair would be an advantageous trait, right?”

“You mean it’d help not to get eaten, Andy?”

“That is what I mean. So if blond hair helps survive from snake attacks, then these people are more likely to be…alive, to have cute kids like you. Then, there’s a higher percentage of the next generation that has that good trait. That’s all natural selection means: that having the best traits possible to survive means you get increasingly more of those traits going forward, because they’re the best ones for surviving.”

“So you just meant our eyes would change if it really helped Krakotl survive better?”

“You get it, Cala! Very good. It doesn’t mean that we let anyone die. It just means they have better odds against nature, which is a lot less forgiving when you don’t have controlled cities, machines, and antibiotics.”

“Okay.” Feeling tired of the lesson, I played with the snake, dragging it across the floor to imagine how it slithered. “Can I color now?”

“Sure, if you want to. Or…now that you know about humans and animals better, we could watch cartoons on my holopad? It might help you understand life on Earth better.”

“Really? You’d let me do that?” I never got to watch cartoons with Papa, so I had to sneak episodes of Young Exterminators at the guild, when Mama went away on the truck. They thought kids’ entertainment was annoying and silly; watching stuff like that meant I wasn’t mature, or ready to be in the guild. “You’d watch kid stuff with me?”

“Of course I would.”

“I didn’t know grown-ups did that. Papa said it’d teach me to be more loud, and he didn’t want to listen to it. He said…I ruined everything.”

Andrew’s eyes darkened, almost as much as when I first told him my age. “That’s not true, Cala. You were a very good kid, and it’s not your fault that your father was mean. There’s nothing wrong with doing stuff that’s fun for you, and most rational adults like seeing you happy. You deserve to be a kid, and I’d say you’ve more than earned it. I picked out a few of my favorites from years ago. Come here.”

I dropped the snake immediately, hopping onto the seated human’s lap. Andrew chuckled as I bounced up and down, trilling with excitement. The hunter ran a hand down my neck feathers, which felt nice and soothing; I liked Andy’s “nurture instincts.” Even if he was only half-prey, the guard hadn’t seemed that different from us; I guess that made sense if we both were omnivores. I wanted to keep making him proud of how fast I was learning, so he’d bring me more cool toys and fun stuff! My new papa had made me much less lonely, and he was the only reason my days weren’t cold and empty; plus, he knew everything, with answers that were much more thorough than the exterminators’ teachings. Maybe if I got better enough, he could forget the bad thing I did and be happy again.

Since the humans had only wanted to be friends and bring mangoes, I thought it was wrong to hurt them. Whatever Mama said, not all predators were supposed to burn—I was sure of it.

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A/N - Part 3! Andy has been busy teaching Cala zoology: explaining what omnivores were, ecosystem roles, and which traits actually identified predator versus prey, beyond the simplistic Federation divide. He explains that humans are both omnivores and pack predators, while also breaking the news that Krakotl were omnivores; Cala agrees with his explanation that she’s not evil, so humans could have feelings too. Andrew concludes the lesson by talking about natural selection, and an example of a predator with side-facing eyes: the murder noodle.

What do you think of how Andrew is teaching Cala, and her responses to what she’s learned so far? Do you think our narrator finally getting to be a child, and being allowed to play and enjoy kids’ entertainment, will endear her further to her “new papa?”

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!