How does it feel to be the most infamous man on the face of the Earth? Well, not very good, I can tell you that. The few Mesozoican guards working at Sing-Sing absolutely hate me...and I can't blame them. After all, I did just try to kill the closest person they have to a messiah. I mean, how would Muslims react if someone attempted to assassinate the Prophet Muhammad? Or Christians react to an attempted shooting of Jesus Christ?
In the five years I've been in prison, I've learned that the Mesozoicans aren't too different from us. They have the same hopes, dreams, fears and thoughts that we do. I'll admit, it was a bit of a difficult task seeing as they don't look anything like us. And every part of our instinct tells us that the creature in front of us with claws and fangs - even if the creature is wearing a diaper and talking - is a dangerous wild animal. I'm man enough to admit that, yes, I was afraid when I first saw them. After all, who wouldn't be?
But I'm also honest enough to admit that I let that fear control me. I saw the footage of the raptor survival course...and there, I thought I saw what Mesozoicans were really like under the civilized exterior: intelligent wild animals with an instinctive drive to hunt and kill. I was afraid then but I then rationalized my fear that they were confined to a remote compound in the Montana badlands. But when Chris Delameter said that he plans to open the compound and stage protests to ensure they're recognized as people, I didn't see the beginning of a new age. I saw the end of the world with the raptors hunting and eating Humans. I'll admit, now it seems far-fetched but back then, it felt as if the end of the world was in sight. And when you think the apocalypse is nigh, you lose all your inhibitions and try to stop it by any means possible. Did I realize what I was doing was wrong?
Yes, I was aware that I was going to commit premeditated murder of a perfect stranger. But I rationalized it away by telling myself that this man would spell the end of civilization if he were allowed to continue.
And that's how I ended up on the 39th floor of the Millennium Hilton New York One UN Plaza with my old hunting rifle on July 4th, 2050. Granted, I hadn't hunted since I was a boy but there are some things that you never forget how to do, no matter how long it's been.
My plan was, now looking back at it, completely batshit insane but at the time, I thought I was being clever. It was a two pronged maneuver: kill Chris so that he can't continue with his movement and let the Mesozoicans he fought so hard to defend fall prey to their instincts and eat him as he lay dying, thereby revealing that civilization can't hide their nature as wild animals and turning all of Humanity against them.
I hadn't counted on the fact the Mesozoicans could be as self-sacrificing as Humans as evidenced by the one who saved Chris from the single shot that didn't miss. At the time, I simply dismissed it as the act of a trained animal but looking back at it, Chris had a point. They're not monsters; they're people.
At first when the all-Human jury handed me a murder charge and a sentence of life without parole, I was angry. Angry that they classified the Mesozoican as a person. Angry at the jury for not realizing that I may have saved them from being raptor food. Angry at everyone in the courtroom for possibly dooming the Human race.
Of course, the judge sided with me saying that I can't be charged with Krtall's murder because he's not Human. My first thought was, "Finally, someone who agrees with me.'' That of course evaporated when she handed me a sentence of attempted murder along with whatever charges that the prosecutors threw at the wall and managed to make stick. Apparently, the jury didn't buy my defense that I was trying to kill Krtall, not Chris.
Did I expect a hero's welcome at Sing Sing? Of course not, I was just one of the many murderers, rapists and robbers there. I was just that "guy who shot a raptor'' much like the guy next to me in the cafeteria is the "guy who killed his dealer''. On my first day there, I was allowed to watch the news and what do you know, it's the footage of Krtall's funeral. At the time, I dismissed it as Chris and the other scientists having trained all these animals to mimic a funeral procession like they had trained them to talk, wear diapers and behave like Humans. And that there were handlers with leashes, whips, clickers and shock collar remotes out of view of the cameras.
I'm going to admit that at the time, I was too high on my own belief that the Mesozoicans would spell the end of the Human race with Chris as the unwilling (or possibly even willing) instigator to even consider that the Mesozoicans are actually people and not wild animals.
I'm not ashamed to admit that it took much longer than it should have for me to finally understand that Mesozoicans are people.
What prompted the change? Two things actually, TV news and a visit.
I'll start with the TV news. One of the few channels we're allowed in prison is the cable news channel. For a week since July 20th, 2050, it was basically 24/7 coverage about the opening of the Greenfield Genetics Compound to the public, which was now a town called Mesozoica. On the first day of the opening, I was expecting carnage with people thrown into the maws of hungry raptors but instead, it went along just like a fair at any Midwestern town. Indeed, the news was showing off several Mesozoican owned and operated businesses, including a smoothie bar named Pangaean Fruits and Drinks. It was then that I realized that no mere animal — regardless of training — could operate and run a business, let alone one that doesn't cater to even the same species.
I'd swear that the prison staff kept the channels on Mesozoican related news the whole time I was there, just to teach me a lesson. And it worked.
As for that visit, it was only a week after my sentencing. It was the first visitor I had gotten. Imagine my surprise when the visitor was a Mesozoican! I can still remember his appearance: green and red feathers, like a parrot, polished and groomed but still sharp claws, a Mexican style poncho and orange eyes. And even his name, Krktril.
To my surprise, the raptor didn't look angry. Admittedly, it was hard to read Mesozoican facial expressions but I can recall the look of disappointment on his muzzle. I'll try my best to reconstruct the conversation from memory:
Me: Who are you and what do you want?
Krktril: I'm Krktril from the N.A.A.M.C Citizens — National Association for the Advancement of Mesozoican Citizens — and I want to understand you.
Me: How can an animal hope to understand me?
Krktril: If you think of me as a simple animal, I'm afraid we won't get anywhere. But just give me one chance to show you something.
I'll admit, it was a bit weird to see Krktril take off his poncho and show off every part of his body. Including, yes, his diaper. But other than the diaper, there was no leash, no shock collar, no harness, no hobbles or for that matter, any other accoutrements associated with a trained animal.
Me: The fuck was that supposed to prove!?
Krktril: Did you notice anything?
Me: What, aside from your diaper?
Krktril: Exactly. I'm not wearing a shock collar, a leash, chains or anything you'd associate with a mere pet or circus animal. What does that tell you?
Me: Okay, what do you want from me?
Krktril: As I said, I want to understand why you shot Krtall.
Me: You want to know why I did it? I wasn't aiming at him! I was aiming at Chris!
Krktril: Why a Human? Why not one of the many N.A.A.M.C members with him?
Me: Because I wanted to prove you as nothing more than beasts who'll tear him apart once he's wounded.
Krktril: Let me tell you something. Humans are descended from chimpanzees. Their instinct when they see a male who is not a member of their troop is to slaughter them...brutally. Tell me, when you see another man, do you get your family and friends to beat him unconscious, castrate him and gouge out his eyes?
Me: What, no!
Krktril: How often do you see others doing that?
Me: Not that often.
Krktril: Exactly. Humans can control their instincts. Why should we Mesozoicans be any different?
Me: But...
Krktril: But what? My teeth and claws don't make me a killer any more than your hands or feet do. We both share the gift of intellect and can use that to override our instincts. It's a shame you didn't do so.
Me: The fuck are you getting at!?
Krktril: When animals are frightened, they'll lash out at anything within reach. That's what you did. You're the one who let their fear override their rational thought and gave in to their instincts. Even so, quite a bit of people — Human and Mesozoican alike — hate you for what you did, seeing you as a heartless killer.
Me: You wanna hate me, fine, go ahead!
Krktril: No. I can't hate you for what you did that day. You were merely a frightened animal then, acting solely on instinct.
The conversation I had with Krktril — and his demonstration — was a big crack in my belief that the Mesozoicans in the funeral were merely trained animals. Admittedly, I still clung desperately to my belief; I wanted to be right. Yes, his words stung and I resented him for a bit after that meeting but I realized that he was right. I wasn't motivated by a political or religious statement and I certainly didn't want to kill Chris for the sake of killing him. I tried to kill him because I was afraid of raptors eating people.
But guess what, it's never happened.
If I could meet my past self back on that sunny day on July 4th, 2050, I would have told him, ``Don't do it. There's nothing to save the world from. They're not monsters or wild animals; they're people just like us.''
Maybe if I had gotten to know the Mesozoicans better instead of just relying on survival course videos, I wouldn't have taken this path.
But what's done is done and I know I can't take back what I did five years ago and I don't expect anyone to forgive me for what I did. I certainly don't...and I'll be paying for what I did for the rest of my life in Sing Sing.
But I hope that people — of both species — can understand why I did it.
This is something new that I'm adding to the Mesozoica 'verse. It's not a story; rather it's an in-universe collection of essays titled A New Jurassic World - Reflections on the Mesozoican State of Affairs. What follows is the first essay in that collection. Each essay will be presented as its own chapter.
