The Lesser Species

Sapien kids giggled condescendingly as Kargin made his way through the bustling crowd of New York City. His overtly small head sitting atop a large frame, with big arms and short legs made him a standout among the crowd of sapiens. Many avoided him, some looked at him with disgust and some were puzzled at his formal attire: a shirt and a pair of trousers, complemented with a checkered tie. While the rest of the neanderthals roamed around with a loincloth or a one-piece purchased from thrift stores, the sight of a fully covered Neanderthal in a civilized attire was perplexing to the sapiens.

What Kargin did not realize was that the mere sight of a pair of glasses perched atop his large nose and a clean-shaven protruded jaw perplexed the sapiens the most.

neanderthals or the ‘neans’ as they were racially referred to these days were the laborers, the farmers, the warriors. They lived in a world ruled by the superior sapiens. Their status as the lesser species meant they got the menial jobs on the planet. They could never be politicians, actors, painters or even drivers.

Kargin reached the building where he was supposed to meet The Director. He waited outside the main entrance as instructed. He was used to receiving instructions throughout his life. But he wasn’t used to the shock his instructors, be they his superiors at his workplace or a passerby, expressed when Kargin carried out those instructions diligently and to the T. sapiens weren’t used to such behavior from the neanderthals. The former always expected the latter ‘Lessers’ to fumble, be clumsy with the task and hear the order for a second time. A Nean as intellectual as Kargin was one in 14 billion.

He was the only neanderthal who could stand up to and surpass the intelligence of most sapiens on the planet.

The main doors opened. Kargin walked in and made his way to the rooftop. Members of species would have preferred to scale the walls of the structure to reach the top. Kargin took the elevator. 

The Director was standing very close to the parapet. He turned to look at Kargin when he stepped out of the elevator and walked through the door.

Pushing eighty, lanky and bald, the stern-faced, pointy-nosed sapien asked, “Well Kargin, do we have to face a rebellion from the neanderthals or do we have peace?”

“We have peace. Your intelligenc

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e was correct”, Kargin replied.

The Director raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe it. Your disguise fooled them all?”

“It was quite an effective sir. They’ve only ever seen me in sapien clothing. Nobody’s seen me don a loincloth over my crotch. And without my glasses, I’m just an ordinary neanderthal.”

“Yes, just like another douche of a nean. So, report?”

Kargin paused briefly. He swallowed and took a deep breath. “Over a hundred and fifty neanderthals had gathered in the basement of the Wooden Stone Club. None of them mistook me for that ‘traitor Kargin’. Many of them were revered leaders from our society. They spoke of overthrowing the sapiens and uprooting the apartheid for good. They had plans in place to influence the mechanics and workers in the army to take control of the artillery, the tanks, and the jets. They were all riled up. Some were even ready to pick up their clubs and maces and start whacking sapiens on the streets.”

“Did they now? So how come the rebellion was quenched before it began?”

Kargin sighed. “I just had to ask whether they knew to use guns or operate tanks or fly fighter jets. That seemed to bring them down to earth. Within minutes they were shouting at each other and resorted to consuming alcohol and called for the females to be brought down to the basement for a performance.” 

The Director began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that brought tears to his eyes. After he had exhausted his supply of air and breathed in a new one, he said “Well done, Kargin. You truly are an asset to us. You will be handsomely compensated. I’m thinking ‘Head of International Intelligence on neanderthals’. Unless you have something else in mind?” The Director took out his smartphone from his breast pocket and began to type.

“No, sir. I’d be grateful to accept what you just offered. And sir?”

The Director replied, still glued to his phone, “Yes Kargin?”

Kargin raised a fist that was bigger than The Director’s head and punched the sapien squarely on the jaw. The lanky fellow nearly fell over the parapet, but Kargin caught him by the collar. The Director was bleeding from the nose and mouth and his jaw was probably broken.

Kargin pulled the sapien towards him and whispered into his ear, “Never call us Neans. Else I’ll make sure they certainly club you to death first.”