#too bad we got'em check it out

[abbi-normals-brain]

A Credible Threat

An interview between a human from Australia, and a highly credulous alien tasked with cataloging and rating potential threats and hazards throughout the galaxy. Derived loosely from a recent writing prompt I saw lurking Reddit. I don't post there, so here it is.

"We had a war with them, you know."

The human puts the "cigarette" to his mouth again. The smoke activates the extractors, which are calibrated to remove all toxins from the atmousphere almost as soon as they appear.  You scroll through your notes with one tentacle, looking for a mention of whom he's referring to.

"A war? With the...the large criminal faction typically referred to as 'The English', I presume? I understand your people were exiled from--"

The human interupts you with a harsh laugh, like the sounds made by the dogs you'd unsuccessfully tried to interview earlier in this experiment. You make a note to re-open the issue of whether these sounds may  constitute a spoken language after all.

"A 'criminal faction'! Ha, that's a good one! But Nah, mate. I didn't mean England. I mean the damn emus."

"...emus?"

"Emus." Ash falls from the glowing tip, and you nervously check your notes. Who let him have that thing? It must constitute some kind of hazard rating. The preliminary analysis from the lab decribes the item as 'a thin tube of bleached fibrous material containing dried plant matter of the Earth genus Nicotiana which has typically been impregnated with preservatives and other compounds. Nicotiana is very toxic in large enough doses, and alters neurochemical makeup with consistant exposure, but it is vanishingly difficult to expose oneself to these conditions unintentionally, particularly in a well-ventilated space. One end is hot when in use, but the items were judged largely harmless and placed in the lowest threat category.' Hm. Fine. Doesn't seem right, but the lab technicians generally know what they're doing.

"Expand on this, please."

"They're bloody emus! What else is there to say?! You mean to tell me you guys went cruising around in your little UFO grabbing up randos from all over Australia--"

"We  actually took samples from an evenly distributes pattern of points across the surface of your world."

"And NONE of them told you about emus?!"

"No."

The human snorted and shakes his head. You enter a few notes, waiting for him to continue, and when he doesn't, you do.

"You are the first subject to mention them. Frankly, the first to mention war with an non-human animal at all, and I can't say I'm not suspicious of your claims."

"Suspicious? Mate, it's just how the place is. First thing people think of when they think of Australia."

"The Galactic Travel Guide is familiar with many of Earth's most dangerous predators outside of yourselves. We've heard about the lions. We've heard about the hippos, and how they're actually much more dangerous than the lions. We've heard quite a lot about the moose. We've even heard of your screaming, spitting black and white geese. We've even heard of the small population of flightless dragons with necrotic saliva.  But the idea of creatures such as these attempting to make war on the dominant sapients of the planet--"

"It was a little more than an attempt, mate," the human muttered.

"You don't mean to suggest--"

"Yeah. Yeah, they won."

"..."

"Twice."

"Is it something about your treatment aboard ship that makes you so obstructionist in these interviews? You know that if you simply answer our questions about the hazards your species navigate on your planet, we will return you to your home. Most of our other samples have completed this task, been mindwiped of the experience, and returned to their normal lives."

"Nah, the food's great. The room's comfortable. I'm not 'obstructionist'. I'm just tellin' you what's out there."

"And what else is there?"

"Kangaroos."

"Go on."

"Long tail. They can stand on it a little. Hops along on its back feet as fast as a car, but can't move backwards. Massive, vicious sharp claws too. Tall as a man, almost, and punches like a freight train. And they breed pretty fast, enough they're pests in some parts."

"Pests as in, an animal populous enough to cause damage to human settlements?"

"Yeah, they put up special fences in some places to keep them out."

"Fortifications?! Just for these creatures?!"

"We also got'em for crocodiles."

"We've heard of them before, from a subject in..." you check your notes, "Egypt."

"Ours are bigger. And meaner. World famous for it, really."

"So you say."

"And I bet that guy didn't tell you the kicker about crocodiles. If you're looking for a threat rating, well... See, they just...keep growing. Most of them come in at an average size, but sometimes there's one....as long as they have enough food to support themselves, they literally never stop growing, AND they don't age like you and m--well, like me. So they could hypothetically get to be older than dirt and bigger than a bus if you fed 'em enough."

"Right. Moving on. Setting aside macrofauna, how would you describe the toxicology profile of your land? Insects, plant and fungal life, etc?"

"Extensive! World famous for that too!"

"Of course you are."

"It's not all bad. Some of our animals carry their babies inside--"

"Yes, we're aware of the ordeal that is mammallian reproduction and would thank you not to bring it up."

"No no, the marsupials. Like the kangaroos. The babies are born as just this tiny fetus that crawls by itself into its mother's pocket until its got hair and stuff."

"So now you're saying the kangaroos wear clothes?"

"No, the pocket is in the skin."

"For Glob's sake, if you think I'm such a fool that I'd enter this in the GTG databases--which 100's of bargillions of S'zezdars rely on for their very lives as they attempt to avoid the many deadly threats in the galaxy--"

"Can't be that deadly out there, if you're this scared of kangaroos."

The thick mane of barbed spines down your back rattled against each other as they rose up straight--"like a porcupine" a different human subject had said. You were starting to lose patience.

"Human." you said with a measured firmness that made the human pause and look warily at you, shifting eye contact between your various ocular organs as they bulged, pulsing with pale yellow light. "What the GTG does may seem silly to you, or pedantic, or useless. To be quite frank, this is because you as a species live on a tiny ball of spittle and haven't even been to the bottoms of your own oceans yet. Out here, in the vastness of all space, where the species like us who have earned the privilege, this is a literal matter of life and death. Living, thinking, sapient being in numbers that your species literally can't comprehend depend on accurate up to date information on the unimaginable array of threats that await them off-world."

"Mate, I'm sorry, I'm really not here to condescend. I'm actually trying to help you."

With a conscious effort, you pull your spines back down into a relaxed position. They make a single simultaneous clacking sound, like an old mechanical lockbox.

"Then please give my work the gravity it deserves."

The human put the "cigarette" in his mouth again, and exhaled thoughtfully., giving you a curious look.

"...so, uh. I take that means you don't wanna hear about the platypus?" You're about done with this subject. He's been holding up the experimental process for days. His claims get more and more outlandish and obtuse with each interview. Clearly you're not going to get accurate information about this subject's natural environment from the subject himself. An away mission will be necessary to verify details first hand.

Your tentacles flex and curl nervously. But what if what he said was true, or at least had a grain of truth to it? You consider it for a moment and discard the idea. If the location were really that dangerous, they would be downplaying it to exaggerate their own power over such a hostile environment. Clearly they're doing the opposite, trying to exaggerate the danger. Or more likely, fabricate dangers completely. He must know the land has no natural defenses and doesn't want to be overrun by hostile Galactic faction. Or maybe they just want adventure tourist dollars--this is for a travel guide after all. You decide in an instant that you're calling his bluff here and now. 

Either way, this subject is being ejected from the study post-haste. You release the thin panel of a screen you'd been taking notes on, and grasp the microphone of the voice COM in your desk firmly among your suckers.

"Guard." you say flatly. A heavily armed and armoured S'zezdar slithers into the room immediately. "Take this one for mindwiping and send him home. We're going to have to check out the local flora and fauna on the surface ourselves." You distantly worried about the tongues-lashing your supervisor would give you about it, and about how you handled this subject in general, but getting out on an away mission again would be worth it.

The guard looked surprised.

"Without even a preliminary threat rating for the area?"

"Don't worry. I'm expecting no problems at all."

The guard grabbed the human by one of his upper appendages. The other appendage crushed the synthetic foam filter of his "cigarette" device into the table. The human didn't resist as the guard pulled him up out of the chair. Instead, the human stretched out its mouth. Sideways. You almost feel like it could reach his ears if he tried. You've seen no record of this facial expression in humans. You don't like it. It shows too many teeth.

"A'right, bye then, mate. Good talkin' to ya..." The human... (you cast about for the word for a moment) laughs. As the guard drags him to the medical bay, he calls back once more over his shoulder.

"Good luck with the emus!"