u/kofolarz

First | Last

38.5 hours.

That's how long the hostage rescue team's bodycam footage remained confidential.

Now every news channel on Earth was playing it on repeat.

So I watched as the gray-and-black figures once more encircled the doorway I'd been blocking.

'Identify yourself!' I heard again, even though I had muted the TV ten minutes before.

It was half past nine in the morning, and I just stared at the flat-screen like a shellshocked war veteran.

Sitting in the kitchen, unshaven, wearing sweatpants and yesterday's T-shirt.

Sipping on a coffee that had already gone cold.

Because why would I care anymore? I'd been all but fired just two days before.

At least I no longer had to bother with schedules.

On-screen, I kept explaining that I was not, in fact, currently being torn to pieces by the Ha'wurr ambassador, and those well-trained idiots just stared at me as if I myself were an alien..

The news banner below read:

UN DENIES 'ALIEN HOSTAGE' CLAIMS

Then cut to the news anchor, as the video kept replaying beside her. She was talking animatedly about something, probably about my career funeral.

I grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, reaching for my phone instead.

Of course.

The very same footage now appeared every fifth video on the reel.

"Yup. I'm cooked," I muttered.

I swiped down from the top.

Six missed calls.

Twenty-seven notifications.

One from my mom announcing that she'd just introduced herself to an internet subculture, with some image attached.

I decided not to open it and swiped back up to check out the news feed.

Scrolling through headlines, I could see no less than thirty competing, mutually exclusive narratives.

UN Envoy Defends Class-3 Predator During Security Incident

Did a Human Official Just STRANGLE an Alien?

Bodycam Leak Shows Man Interfering With Rescue Procedure

Earth's Diplomat 'Presumably Dead,' Galactic Council Reports

I Tested The Internet's Secret For Getting The Most Pop out of Microwave Popcorn

Experts Warn of Risks as Debate over Emotional Expression Intensifies

I sighed.

Of course I had to be also reminded about that previous failure.

I will never recover from this.

I rested my head on the table and hid my face in the crook of my elbow.

The phone buzzed.

It buzzed again.

I didn't know how long I was sitting like that, but at that point the coffee was probably becoming biologically interesting.

This time the caller number actually had a name to it.

It was the Undersecretary-General of my now-former posting.

I sat upright a little too quickly and accepted the call.

"Special Envoy Badura," the Undersecretary replied. "Am I reaching you at a workable time?"

"Yes," I lied.

"I'll skip the formalities," he said, "but your current position has become untenable."

He gave me time to process this.

"So," I started to fill the silence, "in other words, I'm out?"

"Not necessarily," the Undersecretary drew that word. "Even when your recent behaviour has complicated the UN's standing on the galactic political stage."

Well, that's an understatement and a half.

Over the call I heard papers shuffle.

"Now, here's the decision. Effective immediately, you are no longer to perform the duties of UNSEESDA, and the position is now pending replacement."

"I see," I said it as if I realized it just then.

"...At the same time, however," he continued, "the Ha'wurr delegation to the Galactic Council formally commended you this morning."

"You can't be serious."

"As a result, you are being reassigned as a permanent diplomatic liaison to the Ha'wurr ambassador."

"Because I pet the diplomat."

"Don't ever phrase it like that again."

"…Sorry."

"I want you to report to my office at your earliest convenience," my superior said.

Which was bureaucratic code for 'move it right now, or else.'

I exhaled slowly.

"So, when am I back in the game?"

"Preferably tomorrow morning."

"That fast? What about the funding?"

"Lukas," the Undersecretary-General said tiredly. "You have, regrettably, become a valuable asset."

Uh-oh.

I say nothing.

"The Ha'wurr ambassador has already declined three substitute representatives, she kept asking if you were available. And the decision to appoint you passed literally... ten minutes ago."

"...She what."

"She told one of them," he continued, "that 'she'd already built a rapport with a human'. And the Security Council agrees that trust can be influential in negotiations..."

* * *

The terminal screen embedded into the wall of my ambassadorial quarters emits a soft chime as I awaken the dormant machine spirit.

Which, in a way, human computers almost appear to be.

The display then shows a two-dimensional representation of a radiant teal orb. The shape seems to turn and shift through more than three dimensions at the same time.

"Good evening, Ambassador Howlshade," an indeterminate voice greets me, its heavy English accent contrasting with eerily flawless pronunciation. "How can I assist you tonight?"

The voice is pleasant but clearly artificial, slightly flowing, slightly harmonizing with itself.

Not that the humans lack the ability to somehow synthesize voices that sound absurdly real.

They can do that.

But in this case they chose not to, so that I can easily recognize when I speak with an actual person on the other end.

"Is there a problem, Ambassador?" The terminal intones. "I can call for help should you require it."

"No, thank you, I just... A lot has happened lately," I say slowly, "and I'm still processing it all."

"Understood," it says. "So, how can I assist you tonight?"

It repeats itself with exactly the same prosody.

I'm straight up talking to a machine.

How bizarre the human approach to computers is.

"...I would like to know how humanity reacted to my recent... situation, that one with those men with weapons."

"A fully objective study of it is all but impossible, I'm afraid," the not-person says. "However, I can provide representative samples of your chosen type of content available on humanity's primary information exchange network."

On screen appear four options to choose from, arranged in a grid.

Mainstream news coverage,

Official government statements,

Social media reactions,

Political analyses.

One option intrigues me in particular.

"Define social media."

I wait a couple of seconds, and a definition appears on the screen word after word, immediately narrated by the machine's voice.

"Social media consists of large-scale public communication platforms where humans voluntarily share opinions, humor, emotions, arguments, misinformation, personal experiences, artwork, recordings, and pictures of animals."

"Elaborate," I say.

"Social media, while still shaped by algorithms, moderation, and social incentives, is often one of the fastest and least institutionally filtered large-scale indicators of public emotional reaction, allowing for a broad, though imperfect, reflection of public opinion."

I ponder on it for a moment.

"Show me the social media reactions then."

"I will now aggregate sample reactions to multiple instances of closely-matched human-made content published on a variety of internet communities. Shall I apply any of these content type filters?"

It provides a multiple selection list with percentage breakdown.

I'm surprised 'supportive' is the top option here as, judging by everyone involved, Lukas' attitude towards me could have been an anomaly.

'Speculative,' 'hostile,' 'fearful,' and 'conspiracy' all make sense to me, more or less.

I stare at the fourth option from the top.

"Sexually explicit?" I ask.

"An inseparable part of becoming globally famous," the assistant replies.

"But... why?" I say.

"Humanity often asks 'why not?' instead," the phrase doesn't translate naturally but I get the gist of it. "From what I know, there's some digital art of this kind with me as the centerpiece."

"But you don't even possess a physical form."

"That doesn't appear to pose an obstacle," the assistant concludes. "So, shall I apply any of these content type filters?"

"Exclude explicit," I order, suddenly embarrassed, and the selected option changes opacity.

Following my confirmation, the entire screen fills with videos. Images. Images with text.

The most popular media item on the screen is what looks like the leaked bodycam footage.

Almost three billion views globally.

I see myself from the response team leader's perspective for the first time.

I never realized how close to whimpering I looked back then.

In hindsight, I'm surprised that the responders didn't even mock me for it. That must have taken a lot of restraint.

I reluctantly scroll to the comment section.

@​redHotOwen
Aw man,, she looked terrified when they came in

Mockery. There it is.

u​/Massive_Ferret_5837
She looks scared shirtless, why did they have to do it to her??

A reply to this comment is a picture of a gesticulating human with a black mess of hair and one word at the bottom:

'ALIENS'

"They're making fun of how I looked," I say.

But why did not wearing a shirt make me look afraid?

"To me and, likely, to most humans," the machine says, "both comments rather express supportive concern."

Oh.

I see it now.

Another comment thread, probably from yet another service.

janiejerzy
Mirki, this is a setup... They barged in, did c---a, and just left? And look how this badura defends an alien when he barely met her, no normal person would behave like that

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ MECHAKITKU
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ @​janiejerzy yes, and the groundhog sits there and wraps them in tinfoil

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ derPschemeck
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ @​janiejerzy szur szur

I understand nothing.

"...What?"

"My translation service has partially failed for this exchange," the machine says, "However, phrases involving 'tinfoil' appear statistically associated with ridicule of paranoid or conspiratorial beliefs."

Another incredibly popular video from the incident is the fragment where Lukas talks the armed men down, with added music.

"Can you explain this video to me?"

"The song's lyrics concern resisting violence from law enforcement officers," I get an answer. "This edited footage aims to draw attention to the Special Envoy and imply that his behavior was heroic."

Most comments underneath appear to confirm this.

The next thing that catches my eye is a computer drawing of me, slightly cross-eyed, wearing an oversized long-sleeved pink piece of clothing.

The image is titled "AM DANGER, FEAR ME".

In the comment section, all comments consist of just two symbols:

🫳
🐺

I make an inquisitive hum.

"In this post, everyone involved simply thinks you're cute," the machine explains.

"Cute?"

"The following video should provide you enough context," the disembodied voice says, putting yet another video on screen.

It shows a reenactment of the armed men entering. Six men carry polymer weapon replicas, and a woman wearing a wolf mask sits in my place.

But the cameraman, instead of giving the woman orders for compliance, gently pats her head.

I recognize the symbolism.

I've seen enough dog videos to know what it means.

"They... It's not just Lukas, then. So many humans just want me to be safe."

"That conclusion appears statistically supported."

Suddenly, the displayed content shifts as the computer forces a new image to appear on the side of the screen.

"You would probably find it entertaining to monitor this post for new comments," it says.

It's a photograph of a computer screen with a still frame of me and Lukas hugging, obtained from the meeting's recording equipment.

Published eight minutes ago.

One comment.

@​aTanAnt
Teefies!!!

First | Last

Scritch.

Scritch scritch.

This feels... nice, yes.

But this time it's different.

Now it provides no comfort.

No shivers of warmth flowing down my spine, down to the tip of my tail.

Nothing.

I miss him.

I take my declawed hand away from my ear.

In a way, I envy Lukas. He never had to remove parts of himself to represent his species.

I sigh with resignation.

I wasn't meant to be sent to Earth.

Nor to be a diplomat.

I'm here only because I begged, time and again, to see the humans with my own eyes.

The High Speaker noticed how excited I was about the massive cultural data dump the humans had published for all to see.

The way he saw it, I was the most knowledgeable among us all about those newly discovered aliens.

And, likely, he was not wrong.

I did not dare to change his mind.

So he chose me to bear the burden of diplomacy.

Diplomacy, which failed with my reaction to the human's gesture of friendship.

But even then, he called me a friend...

I stretch my legs slowly, feeling every muscle, from thigh to toe, first tense, extend, and then relax.

My submission to my instincts. It should not have happened.

It must not have happened.

It put both him and me in so much danger.

All because of me.

Because I just wanted the humans to accept me.

Because I thought behaving like them was a good idea.

"That was... was that really a mistake?" I say slowly to myself. Alone. Lying on the bedding in my quarters, struggling to fall asleep.

I liked how it felt.

I really did.

And that scares me.

I enjoyed every moment of contact with the human.

Even if it went against the Teachings.

Against what our kind considers acceptable.

What we consider safe.

For ourselves.

For others.

By the Sisters, my human security staff advised me not to interact with anyone on Earth for a day or two, until this... incident dies down in the media.

They said it's for my safety.

And I believe them.

I agreed for Lukas to hug me - I hugged that alien - only because I saw the humans casually do that.

Everywhere. Regardless of social or political standing.

I saw how normal it was for them to...

No, now I'm just making excuses.

Yet the High Speaker did not condemn me.

On the contrary.

He outright ordered me to be more like the humans.

He all but encouraged me to do that again.

But why? Is he himself such a deviant like I am?

Why does he, of all Ha'wurr, support my perversion?

Does he think it can be safe for us to lose control over our deadly instincts like that?

Why did I feel none of them when, embracing Lukas, I saw the panicked faces of the Galactic Observers?

Did the sensation of outright melting in Lukas' arms simply overwhelm my senses?

That's rather unlikely... Such a reaction to cognitive overload is not well documented. The instincts tend to manifest regardless.

Was I being rapacious with him? Did my subconscious consider him my catch, my prey?

No. He was...

He was...

I have no idea what to compare him to.

Maybe because I was relaxed?

That can't be right.

We practice self-control specifically so that others do not have to fear us. So they don't run away at the mere sight of us.

Or because of Lukas being a human?

No. That just makes no sense.

I had the same tingling feeling when I saw him uncomfortable during our meeting.

The urge to jump on him.

To restrain his arms, to lock his legs, to sink my teeth in his-

I do not let that thought complete.

Sisters forbid, I would never forgive myself.

...I did not act on it. I suppressed it well.

I hope so, at least.

Well enough not to show it on my face.

I roll onto my side and hug my tail over my stomach.

At the same time, I failed to hide my disappointment.

In myself.

In my belief in the humans.

That, after all, they also appeared to treat us like everyone else does.

And my reaction resulted in

Lukas opening his arms

and making me feel

like we just did

something

that felt

right

. . .

. .

.

* * *

It was just a smile.

Just a friendly smile from Humanity's Special Envoy.

Now I couldn't stop thinking of the common variant of my former UN title like a bad joke.

I still could not forgive myself for the previous incident with the... rabbit-people guy, I couldn't recall what he called his species.

That smile singlehandedly shaped relations between our two species for generations to come.

For worse.

Even though, later on, I'd shown him recordings of monkeys, gorillas - all herbivores - smile and react similarly to us humans.

But that didn't seem to help.

The whole thing earned me a formal warning from my superiors and an entire shelf's worth of paperwork.

And now, this...

I stared at the dark ceiling as if it could stare back.

The situation with that Ha'wurr diplomat was my final nail in the coffin.

What was I thinking?

I'd known the risk involved.

I'd known that her species was renowned for thoroughly suppressing its hunter instincts.

I'd known I could have, most literally, lost my damn head to the husky-like lady.

I probably should have felt lucky I hadn't.

But I did not.

So irresponsibly close to, reportedly, the most dangerous specimen in our part of the galaxy, I felt... at peace.

Or was she more wolf-like?

No, she was too fluf-

I bit my tongue to stop myself from thinking about her.

During the debriefing, I was, officially, only suspended. Temporarily.

Unofficially, I was vaguely promised relegation to another posting.

A more appropriate one for my skills, they said.

Something better-suited for my temper, they said.

I sighed.

I knew very well what that meant.

The implications went without saying, given that my today's snuggles involved a rapid deployment unit.

Guess I'll be promoted to janitor.

I was outright ordered to stay at home for a week at least, as if I had just survived an attempted assassination.

Even though I had probably just dismantled one.

Not on me.

On her.

I cupped my hands around my eyes.

They would have killed her like a rabid beast.

Even when, thus far, she had done nothing wrong.

And I was damn sure they would. There was precedent for such a tragic escalation.

This time, though, it would have been because of a series of misunderstandings of my own making.

Now that I had the time to think of it... all of this could have been avoided.

Had I managed my emotions better... the meeting would have continued as normal.

I just had to be reckless and take things further.

To sate my urge for comfort...

...no. To comfort her.

To treat her like a person, not like a threat waiting to manifest itself.

But if I didn't, if I held my feelings back, the negotiations would have gone on as planned.

Was that really the right thing to do, in ​the grand scheme of things?

I shifted under the duvet and curled into a fetal position.

I could only hope she was okay.