Heating Up
Looking at Earth from space in the year 2068, it looked much the same as it had in the year 2018.
Still, Casey Bracket knew the truth. The world wasn't the same. There were a lot more humans, and a lot less plant and animal life. There was slightly less coast, slightly more cloud cover, and a lot more desert. And while she couldn't make up the cities that composed the planet's 9,801,205 inhabitants, she knew that society had changed as well. The rich were richer. The poor were poorer, least if you measured poverty as discrepancy between the haves and have-nots. And back in her day, when she'd still had it in her to vote, oligarchy was frowned upon. Now, with mega-corporations like Weyland Industries and the Yutani Corporation running the show, calling this out led you to be called anything from an anarchist to a communist.
She wished she could stand here and just be above it all. The human race had already spread to the moon, Mars, and within the decade, they were looking at their first extra-solar colonies. If mankind's eyes were forever outward, what use were her eyes in being forever downward? Still, she was only human, approaching her 82nd year. Within this century, she'd be dead. She'd like to think that the world she left behind would be somewhat better than the world she'd been born into.
"Doctor Bracket?"
Of course, what defined "better" varied between cultures, or even between people. She turned to the aide.
"Hmm?"
"The board is ready to see you now."
Casey nodded, giving one last look at mother Earth. In spite of everything, she knew it could have been worse. Peter Weyland might have been one of those people that ever straddled the line between madman and genius, but looking at his works objectively, it was hard to find fault with the results. His synthetic atmosphere project had mitigated the impacts of climate change. He'd developed technologies to carry out carbon sequestration. No-one could claim that Earth was some haven of biodiversity, but it at least hadn't become a post-apocalyptic hothouse that some feared it might. And if there was one thing the universe had taught her, it was to take what victories she could.
Walking into the boardroom, she wasn't sure if today's meeting with the powers that be would give her a victory. In honesty, she wasn't sure if she even wanted one.
"Doctor Bracket."
She didn't bother smiling as she walked into the room, taking a seat at the end of the wooden table. Why there was a wooden table on Freedom Station she wasn't sure – wood was expensive to harvest, and expensive to ship. She knew the USSF had a budget bigger than the Army and Air Force combined, but still…wood. Actual honest to god wood.
"Let it be shown for the record that all those attending have level five clearance."
Everyone, Casey included, put their thumb on the table. A light ran through it like some kind of fairy magic doing magical things in magical trees. In reality, it was just a fingerprint scan that confirmed that everyone in the room had the right to be here. To be aware that there were wolves among the stars.
"Level five confirmed then," said the head honcho. Peering at his name tag, Casey saw the word BUNNING written on it in nice shiny letters. "We'll begin."
Casey didn't say anything as the others got their folders out. She was the oldest person in the room, yet right now, being the only one with a data pad, felt the youngest.
"Doctor Bracket," said Bunning. "Before be begin this audit into the expenditures of Project Stargazer, we're prepared to let you make an opening statement."
"That's magnanimous of you."
Looking at the assembled faces in the room, she could tell that at least one of the people gathered didn't know what "magnanimous" meant. Just because humanity as a whole had achieved spaceflight, it didn't mean that idiots couldn't tag along for the ride. Regardless, she got up and began to pace around.
"You know, I actually had a number of speeches planned," Casey said. "I mean, here I am, expected to justify the continued existence of Project Stargazer to men and women representing the United States Space Force. A body that's got more funding than the Army and Navy combined, representing a country that outspends the next nine countries on their own defence spendings combined, and has so far operated for three-plus decades without a single space engagement." She smirked as she saw frowns appear on some of the higher ups. "There's even talk of the USSF effectively buying out the navy, under the premise that a space navy and a wet navy are the same things at the end of the day."
"Doctor Bracket, we aren't here to discuss the USSF's funding," said one of them.
"Oh I know…Mitambuzi," Casey said, struggling to read the officer's name tag.
"Mitumbazi."
Whatever. "I mean, yes, we're here to discuss Project Stargazer, which given its subject matter, falls under the USSF nowadays since we're both dedicated to issues beyond Earth. I mean, I know the USSF just spent five trillion on a pair of Charybdis-class destroyers, purchased from the Yutani Corporation, so obviously, you need to cut costs somewhere."
"Miss Bracket-"
"Fine," she said, holding up her hands in defence. "Fine. I'm here to defend Project Stargazer, not audit your own spending." She paused for effect.
"Miss Bracket, we're still waiting for that defence," said Bunning.
"Yes, thing about that…" She took her seat back. "I'm not going to propose that Project Stargazer continue to operate. I'm merely going to petition that its staff get folded into the USSF, and continue to operate in a manner befitting Stargazer's original purpose."
The suits gave glances – at her, and each other. Whispers as well.
"Miss Bracket…" Bunning began. "This is…"
"What you wanted?" she asked. She leant back in her chair. "I mean, let's face it – it'll cost far less to employ ex-Stargazer staff than have it operate as its own unit."
Bunning glanced at one of the suits. The suit gave him a nod.
"Fair enough," Bunning said. "But I must admit, when I got a call from the moon to come up to Freedom Station, I expected you to make more of a case."
"Yes, that's what a few other people expected of me as well."
"Then why aren't you? You're the head scientist. You run the program at this point."
"And I'll soon be dead." She let that fact linger for a moment. "Also, I've got no love for Stargazer. The people there tried to kill me on my first day on the job. Twice."
"But you love aliens don't you?" asked one of the suits. She opened her binder. "I mean, your latter to the president back in ninety-one made that clear."
Casey's face went pale. "You…"
"Dear Mistah Pwezident. My name is Casey Bwackett and I'm five years old. My dweam is to one day make contact with an awien."
Casey buried her face in her hands.
"So if you ewa find and awien, pwease let me know." She closed the folder, moving at the speed of a turtle that had been turned over in the desert and asked questions about its mother.
"Just establishing your prior interest in extra-terrestrial life for the record," the suit said.
I'll kill you for this.
"Amusing," Bunning said. He turned back to Casey, and she could see that the bastard was smirking. "Fine. Fair enough. Project Stargazer has operated for a century, and has nothing to show for it." He leant back in his chair. "Still, since we've shifted the goal posts, I might as well ask why we need even bother with your staff at all."
"The Yutani Corporation has accomplished much less with alien tech that they've had longer," Casey murmured.
"Weyland and Yutani have things to offer us," Bunning snapped. "What do you have?"
"Experience," Casey said. "Knowledge."
"To do what?"
"To survive."
Snorts and scoffs echoed throughout the room. Casey, for her part, drew out a flash drive. "May I?" she asked.
Bunning gave her a nod. She plugged it into a socket in the desk, and up popped a cube-shaped hologram. Each side of the cube showed the same graph – time on the X axis, with "encounters" on the Y axis.
"This is a list of Predator visits within recorded history," Casey said. "3600BC to the present day. If we follow this graph, we can see that Predator visits have increased in frequency over time. Especially so since the year 1760." She paused, waiting for the fact to sink in.
"The industrial revolution."
"Oh," said Bunning. "And since then?"
"Since then?" She chuckled. "Since then, the average temperature of the world has gone up by two degrees. Since then, the amount of Predator visits has increased exponentially." She traced her finger along the line on her side. "You might be saying that it's only due to us being more aware of their visits. But even factoring that in, the trend remains."
The trend, as it was, resembled the average temperature – remaining steady, then shooting up. Even beyond 2016.
"Here's the thing though," Casey said. "Their visits have kept rising, even after the orbital mirror project stabilized rising temperatures. So, we can assume that they're going to keep coming." She paused. "You can thank Project Stargazer for this at least."
"But why keep coming?" Bunning asked. "If Stargazer's theory that the Predators prefer a climate warmer than ours…"
She shrugged. "Might have been the plan once. Might be because we're just so damn good at picking up the pieces…metaphorically and literally." She paused, letting the image sink in. "Or maybe it's because they like the challenge. We've reached space, and on the sidelines, developed all kinds of better weapons to keep killing ourselves with. Or aliens."
"But if it's not conquest-"
"It isn't conquest," Casey said – Bunning had caught on, but she didn't want anyone else getting any ideas. "Based on what we've seen, the Predators could wipe us out today if they so wanted to. But they don't. We're good enough to give them a challenge, but not so good that we can threaten them. And I don't think we ever will be."
She could see some of the suits' faces shift at that. Trillions of dollars spent on warships that could accomplish jack point shit if the Predators ever showed up in force.
It had occurred to Casey that there might have been other considerations of course. From what they could tell, Predator tech had remained stagnant for centuries, if not millennia. Maybe there was some kind of technological apex a species could reach. Maybe their culture simply wasn't conducive to scientific discovery. Maybe they simply didn't have the numbers to change their situation. What they knew of the Predators consisted only of those that had come to Earth – for all she knew, there was some kind of "Save the Humans!" campaign going on on the Predator homeworld. Certainly there was at least one of them that had delivered them the Predator Suit, though that had amounted to nothing – like cavemen trying to find out how a starship worked.
"And," she said, pressing her advantage. "There's the question of what happens as we expand into space. The moon, Mars, beyond…do they keep coming to Earth? Or do they start hunting us out there as well?"
No-one answered.
"Think about it," Casey said, deactivating the hologram. "I certainly do."
A/N
So, I know Alien/Predator canon is kind of a mess, but watching The Predator, and listening to Traeger give his theories as to why the yautja were visiting Earth more, I was reminded of tie-in lore for Prometheus, how Weyland effectively managed to put a halt to global warming in the 2010s (alternate timelines r us). So, on one hand, Earth avoids a hothouse state, even if it's a wasteland by the timeframe of Requiem. On the other, the yautja apparently keep coming, at least in humanity's extra-solar colonies. Hence, drabbling this up.
And yes, this is all assuming that the Alien/Predator/Prometheus/Alien vs. Predator films are really in continuity at all (which is a big "maybe" at this point), but honestly, I'd be fine with the yautja showing up if we could actually avert the worst effects of climate change, because right now we're doing a terrible job at it. :(