Alien students expected Earth to be dangerous because of storms, gravity, and wild predators. But the real lesson came later: humans kept those dangers alive by choice. The twist? Earth wasn’t called a deathworld because humans feared it—it was because humans had already learned to live with everything that should have killed them.

“Settle down, class,” Miss Riki said loudly, clapping her long clawed hands together. “Come now, it’s time to learn about Earth.”

 

Her students groaned. The young Yorel, Opticin, Carick, and Jin had little care for planetary lessons. Miss Riki pursed her bright yellow lips. Teaching adults was exhausting.

 

“Isn’t Earth’s history just made up?” a young blue Yorel mused, balancing a stylus on her nose. “I heard they all just look in giant gyms and are born in vats.”

 

“A bright pink Opticin rolled his eyes. “If they were born in vats, they wouldn’t have navels.”

 

“This is not about how humans are made,” Miss Riki stated, her head fronds twitching with annoyance. “We will be going over human cultures and biology later.”

 

Another collective groan.

 

“I’m sure you’ve all heard of the Folly that came before the Opticin visit to Earth,” Miss Riki growled out. All the Opticin grimaced, remembering the splash their first pilots made when they buried their craft into the dirt of Earth.

 

“That’s not going to change anything,” a male Yorel said. “They may be working out on that orbital platform, but their hearts still grow weak from lack of gravity. If the Opticin run too much, they risk heart failure.”

 

The Opticin came to their feet in outrage. “We do not need suits to be on Earth,” the pink male called out. “We can earn our way through strength like the rest of you.”

 

“A yellow female Optican rounded on the blue Yorel. “All of us have been working out. Our entire base converted into gravity chambers so we can toughen up.”

 

“You only hid and mined asteroids the entire war,” the Yorel shot back smugly.

 

Miss Riki slammed her thick hands against her own table. “That is enough. Sit down. I will not have this divisive talk in my classroom.”

 

The Yorel and Opticin saw her head fronds expanding, vibrating with rage. They all leaned back in their seats. Zamra may have been bookish, but they still had the ability to attack the mind if riled up enough.

 

“Earth is what many classify as a deathworld,” Miss Riki said, turning to the data screen.

 

“Is that because of how boring it is?” the blue Yorel quipped.

 

Miss Riki spun around, her fronds fully deployed, fixing the Yorel with a steely glare. The student named Mirak clapped her hands to her head, suddenly filled with dread.

 

“Be quiet,” Miss Riki said firmly over the Yorel’s cries, her draconic fronds quavering. Mirak writhed on the ground. “Okay, I’m sorry. Stop, stop!”

 

Miss Riki’s fronds slowly deflated as she looked around the room. “Anyone else wishing to disrupt my class?”

 

Many heads shook back and forth.

 

“Many classify Earth as a deathworld due to its abnormally high gravity and its inhabitants. Humans are an extremely militant race when compared to the rest of us, honing their skills for war by battling amongst themselves for thousands of years. Their gravity has allowed them to grow extremely thick muscles, and their strength is quite high.”

 

She tapped her fingers, making the screen flick through pictures of humans throwing Yorel like sacks of grain or bending Zamra nearly in half during combat trials.

 

“While they lack the focused intelligence that the rest of us possess, humans are highly dangerous predatory beings that can think extremely quickly and make calculations on the move that even Opticin struggle with.”

 

A juniper-colored Yorel raised his hand. “Then why haven’t humans taken over the Confederation? If they’re so powerful, why not do what the Darva tried?”

 

“It’s a fair question,” Miss Riki said, switching slides to show humans laughing with other races. “They are an extremely sociable race and appear to like us. They are only outwardly aggressive should they receive aggression first.”

 

“A female Jin raised her topmost arm. “Is that why the Zamra have a non-social engagement clause with the humans?”

 

Miss Riki blushed. “When we first made contact, the humans were enamored with us. Half the landing party went off-mission and have yet to even leave Earth. Our council feared it would cause a social death.”

 

“How curious,” the female Jin murmured. “A deathworld in more than one way.”

 

Miss Riki tapped through more slides. “Earth has multiple biomes due to humans not seeking to control their planet’s weather. Some areas can go as low as minus ninety-two degrees Fahrenheit. Others have been recorded as hot as one hundred thirty-four degrees Fahrenheit.”

 

“They don’t live in those areas, do they?” a male Yorel asked.

 

“Some of them actually do live in such locations, or vacation there for the challenge.”

 

“But why?” a Carick asked, not bothering to raise his hand.

 

Miss Riki shrugged. “Maybe because they mastered all the other predators of their planet and see the planet itself as their last remaining challenge.”

 

“What kind of sports do they have?” a female Jin called out excitedly. “Is there wrestling?”

 

“Oh yes. Quite a few. But human sports are outlawed for their death rate.”

 

“They have sports where they die?”

 

“Quite a few, actually. Humans climb rock faces with no safety equipment, ride waves on nothing but planks of wood, leap from great heights with only a sheet of nylon to arrest their fall.” She showed slides of each. “There is even extreme sparring where two humans batter each other until one is knocked unconscious.”

 

“You said they ride great beasts,” a gold-furred Yorel asked. “What kind of beasts? I thought all planets rid themselves of large predators for safety.”

 

Miss Riki laughed. “Yes, this is true. But humans do not abide by such rules.”

 

She tapped up the correct slide. The class recoiled.

 

“What is that?” a Jin called out, stepping backward.

 

“This is called a grizzly bear. It roams wild in the forests. It can reach speeds over thirty-five miles per hour, fast enough to chase down and catch a Yorel at top speed. Its bite strength can cleave through human bones.” She clicked through more slides. “Lions. Cheetahs. Killer whales. Sharks. Hippos. Tigers. All roaming in the open with no cages or gates.”

 

“Why do they even leave these things alive? They’re monsters,” a shaking male Yorel cried out.

 

Miss Riki shook her head calmly. “They keep these creatures around because, in their words, nature would lose its ‘pizzazz’ without them. Humans believe their world is healthier with these predators in place. Even if that means deaths of their own race.”

 

“Humans have been chased, killed, and eaten by these land predators before. Some as recent as last week, when a hiker was killed by a black bear.”

 

“Then they killed all the black bears, right?” a female Carick asked.

 

“They found that bear and killed it. Only that one bear.”

 

“What is the point of just sacrificing yourself to these animals?”

 

“I think humans need to keep their planet in its natural state to keep being as strong as they are,” Miss Riki said. “With danger lurking around every bush, they don’t fall complacent.”

 

She pulled up a Confederation newsletter. “Three Yorel engineers were found dead by a wolf attack. They went camping without a guide. They were found mauled to death inside their tent and partially eaten. This event happened only days after a Pouri was nearly mauled to death by a honey badger, having strayed off the path and mistaken the animal for a cat.”

 

A Jin raised her hand. “Did he live?”

 

“Barely. The creature severed several critical arteries. Humans had to apply pressure wraps to keep him from bleeding out.”

 

Miss Riki folded her arms. “Humans thrive in these conditions of danger. You are not built like humans and do not have their honed minds. There are even rumors of humans having a sixth sense—an innate way to know when danger is near without ever seeing it. We believe this was instilled in them by other creatures.”

 

She turned the slide to a horrifying creature sporting gnarled horns and grotesque dangling limbs.

 

“Creatures known as skin walkers. Traces of these beings have been found in a mountain range called the Appalachians. Stories lead us to believe they were the first true apex predator humans had to tackle.”

 

An Opticin gasped. “They’ve been dreaming of bringing back the giant lizards. I’ve seen the old recordings.”

 

“Humans are banned from bringing back the giant lizards,” Miss Riki held up a hand. “It has already been addressed. Nearly every citizen of the Confederation has seen what used to live on Earth via their historical recordings. No one is keen to see them back.”

 

The room murmured their thankfulness.

 

“Earth is the most dangerous planet known to the Confederation,” Miss Riki said loudly. “While you are allowed to go to Earth, you must do so under the careful watch of humans. This is to ensure no one else falls prey to the predators that roam the world freely. Yes, it is counterintuitive to keep such predators alive. But it is part of human culture to be predators that allow other predators to live.”

 

She tapped the screen. “Grizzly bears do not stay living because they are scary to humans. Humans allow them to live because they hold the power to delete them from existence overnight.”

 

The room was silent.

 

“From powerful predators such as humans comes the need to dominate. And this is the fourth reason why Earth is considered a deathworld. Humans themselves are a danger that must be met with keen intelligence. It is only their good-natured attitude and culture of friendship that keeps them from becoming the next great enemy of the Confederation.”

 

Miss Riki’s desk dinged. “That is all the time we have for today. You are all dismissed.”

 

When the classroom was empty, Miss Riki turned off the lights and made her way through the long hallways of the secondary space station orbiting Earth. She took a loop through zero gravity toward the living quarters, then walked past the bulkhead as gravity eased back to Earth-normal.

 

She placed her hand on her hab unit reader. The door unlocked with a sharp click.

 

Miss Riki stepped inside, grinning widely as the human inside turned around, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

 

“Well, well,” she said. “There’s my little space dragon. I got dinner ready. So come sit down. What were you teaching today?”

 

The man rolled his shoulder, throwing the towel into the sink. Miss Riki’s grin widened as she closed the door behind her, stepping into the kitchen with graceful sways of her hips.

 

“Oh, you know,” she said. “Just how dangerous humans are.”