You know, sometimes you talk to someone, say goodbye after a meeting, and then that person just disappears. Just like that. And it’s unclear where they’ve gone. They’re not dead, and they didn’t leave home. Their relatives assure that the apartment is locked from the inside, but the person is gone. They file a missing person report and try to find motives for the disappearance. Well, yes, debts. They think about how one could physically disappear: leave with just an internal passport to Russia, and from there—anywhere. There’s no registration at the border with Russia if you’re traveling by train or bus. But the passport was left in the drawer. And so were their clothes, shoes, and even their toothbrush.
In the garage, there will now always be an unfinished pack of cigarettes sitting on the shelf, as no one in the family smokes anymore, but no one can bring themselves to throw it away. There will also be work clothes hanging on a hook, and a book he was reading will remain open.
Three years will pass, and the heirs will inherit, as the missing person who has not been found will be legally considered dead.
And only a couple of weeks after everyone realized the man was missing, after the heavy pressure of interrogations and inquiries had subsided, you suddenly remember what exactly you talked about with him the last time. You told the investigators that you were just sitting and chatting about various things, as two people might do in the evening. But they latch onto it, asking for specifics about what you discussed. They have to dig deeper. You’re the last person who saw him. An hour later, his wife called at his house, but she couldn’t get in with her key—the door was locked from the inside. It’s a relief that they don’t suspect you. Or if they do, they don’t say anything. They just keep asking questions: “What did you talk about before you left?”
Talking to him was very interesting. He was a behavioral zoologist specializing in the aspects of predator behavior. The investigators are unlikely to find the topics of our conversations interesting. And they probably won’t be able to draw the right conclusions from them either.
He could talk for hours, passionately explaining why certain animals are at the top of the food chain and what allows them to maintain their position. He said that predators have a reproductive rate that enables them to thrive on their available food sources. At the same time, their low numbers prevent species that feed on them from surviving, as there simply isn’t enough food for the higher-level consumers. He provided examples showing that any population of any species does not reproduce uncontrollably, but rather depends on either the predators above or the food sources below. In any case, he said, if a species reproduces intensively enough, it becomes an attractive ecological niche and, over time, a link in the food chain.
He also mentioned that the longer a species lived freely and without natural enemies, the more unexpected and devastating the appearance of predators was for them. Often, predators possessed traits that the species simply could not cope with, leading to their extinction and leaving behind a somehow adapted and evolved offspring. At first, the prey is often unable to notice the predator. It mimics, deceives the prey’s sensory organs, moves in “blind spots,” and approaches from downwind. The prey is unaware of the predator’s presence, and at the beginning of the evolutionary arms race, it even lacks the ability to detect or recognize the predator and to defend itself afterward.
The emergence of dragonflies completely changed the landscape of insect life. Insects developed armor and venom, began to spend most of their lives in hiding, increased their reaction speed, and even those that continued to fly learned to do so in a way that made their flight paths difficult for predators to predict.
The emergence of large cats completely transformed the appearance of animals in the steppes and savannas. Now, we can’t imagine herbivores without horns, hooves, and swift legs. Yet, before horns, hooves, and fast running appeared, the animals that chose herbivores as their food had no problems at all. They simply approached and consumed the unfrightened animal. It was only later that they developed hunting tactics, such as herding, tracking, separating the weak from the herd, and acquired claws, manes, signals, and skills for stalking.
In areas where humans evolved separately from the surrounding animals, they were seen as “unknown creatures,” and the animals and birds would trustingly approach them, not perceiving any danger.
Touching upon humans as a species, the scientist noted that humans are essentially the only exception—they are at the top of the food chain while also representing a rich food source for potential predators. He argued that a predator for humans either already exists or will emerge soon. There is simply too much delicious and trusting meat walking around the planet.
He suggested interesting ideas, that such a predator should have the ability to mimic, disguising itself either as other people or as everyday objects. It’s also possible that such a predator has simply learned to be invisible to us because our perception does not provide us with a complete picture of the world. People are generally not inclined to see what does not fit into their life experience.
Such a predator must possess a very strong intellect. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a form of consciousness; rather, it is likely the ability to extrapolate events well. Additionally, this ability to extrapolate should teach the predator to carefully monitor the transfer of knowledge among humans, so that people cannot inform each other about the existence of such a predator. This predator should, to some extent, understand human language and leave no traces of its activities. Victims should simply vanish without a trace to those around them. Evolution should drive such predators to develop skills in “preventive camouflage.” Those who were unable to engage in this kind of extrapolation and trace-free behavior were simply hunted down by humans, who then created legends about vampires and ghouls.
The scientist noted that such predators, if they exist, may not be able to keep up with scientific and technological progress, and that the rapid changes in the surrounding reality, such as information technology, should deprive them of the ability to hunt peacefully.
The last thing he said before we parted was: “Understand, Roma, in this situation, it’s good to have such predators. Otherwise, the ecological paradox of a large human herd’s existence would have to be explained by the presence of shepherds protecting it, which violates Occam’s principle and leads to the conclusion that we are being raised for slaughter.”
I haven’t seen him since. And the door to his house was locked from the inside.