16 June 2405
14.825337/106.495972/[2400]01:44:04.0/-15:56:15/3 Luculla
Voice log [Judith Hobson]
Narrative augmentation off
20:18:34
I've seen much more today. Katie showed me. She’s stopped trying to touch me, reluctantly. I'm still baffled by their behaviours. What am I missing?
I must catch up with the narrative log. None of this will make sense otherwise.
Narrative augmentation on
20:20:37
Dawn came sooner than I expected that morning. I was curled foetally on the floor, one hand reaching out to the canvas of the shelter as though to feel any vibrations that might herald the animal’s return. But nothing approached, and as the glow from outside spread to mock the emergency lights that had been burning all night, I became increasingly distracted by my own body’s needs.
Should I just wait for Raja? Where was he? I could not help concluding that he was dead: the shelter had a powerful automatic beacon that would have alerted his eno.
Quietly at first and then with increasing urgency, I searched the scattered survival kit for some weapon I could use beyond the perimeter. Unsuccessful, I scanned a selection of articles on the eno about defence against wild animals. Loud noises, making yourself seem large; it all seemed rather unlikely in the face of something that had already killed so viciously.
It was some hours later that I ventured forth. I had to have food and water. I could stand within the active perimeter with relative impunity; I tried to pierce the forest with my eyes to confirm the location of the camp, not trusting the guidance of the eno, while also trying to see in every direction for approaching danger.
Nothing stirred. I set out, crouched low and moving as quietly and quickly as I could.
It rapidly became clear that the camp was further than I had thought. Panic descended once more, instantly quashing the courage I had mustered during the morning. I twisted to look behind me.
And it was there.
My instincts, which only took in the low and lithe shape, saw a large pale cat; instantly a primeval switch tripped, and I fled. The other part of my mind, that a moment later reported seeing a young woman, had no effect; yet.
I blundered through the undergrowth. I had no breath to cry out, even when I shouldered out of a choking tangle to find myself falling.
I hit the water flailing, trying to reach out to the creepers overhanging the low cliff. But the flow was too strong, and sucked me away and under the surface. The water was cold. My trousers were quickly soaked to become lead weights. In blind terror I lost track of which way was the surface. Then I felt air against my face, and sucked a breath; but it was just a colder current.
White agony in my lungs, blind terror, and icy cold. Perhaps I blacked out; I recall nothing more of that terrible world.
*
Someone was pulling on my arm. Reflexively I tensed, and the touch disappeared. My eyes were shut tight against choking pain in my throat and chest; I was coughing, retching. As my awareness returned, I felt my feet still tugged by water, but my body was on hard sand. Someone had pulled me out. Raja?
The light was blinding as I twisted to see. At first there was only the bright sky and dark forest, and the glittering shards of the water. I blinked hard; and gradually, detail emerged.
This time, my expectation of a human being was matched before my reptile brain could react. She was close by, crouched, naked, regarding me, her head tilted. A girl? I stared. No; a small, young woman. Her hands were pressed to the ground, her knees either side. She lifted a little, her hands padding gently down to one side as her body followed. Fluid. Feline.
Perhaps I had no flight left in me, perhaps the biologist was all that was left, or perhaps my instincts were too confused; but I felt no fear, only fascination. I twisted for a better view, drawing my feet out of the water and lifting my torso painfully onto my arms.
She watched me, impassive. Her skin seemed so pale, until I realised that she was covered in fine white fur. She was either mutated, or wholly alien. When her hands lifted again I saw that her fingers were short, tipped with sharp claws, and bent backward so that the heel of her hands did not reach the ground.
This time she moved forward, with languid intent. My fright returned, and I tried to tuck my feet under me; but I was too weak and succeeded only in flopping to one side, catching myself painfully on my wrist.
Before I even looked up she was right there; her face inches from mine. I gasped and pulled away. One claw was hooked into the side of my vest, dragging it slightly around my torso. My heart hammered: what was she doing? She rippled closer again, those viciously-armed fingers gentle against the side of my breast. Her face pushed upward.
Was she trying to kiss me?
With that realisation I panicked, jerking around to try and gain my feet; and this time I deftly upended myself back into the river.
Unceremoniously she pulled me out again; and then returned to her position of observation a few metres away. Her poker-face was perfect, but I could feel her quizzical amusement. My spluttering turned inexorably to a giggle; then coughing laughter. How natural she was, how at home in the forest; how totally in contrast to my terrorised soaking slapstick.
After a few moments her eyes flicked to one side as though distracted. Perhaps my entertainment value was exhausted. She unfurled upward onto her feet, turned, and then leaped away into the lower branches of the nearest tree so swiftly I could barely follow the movement.
I sighed away the remnants of my laughter as I watched for any further sign. The sand was warm, and I was not yet inclined to order my wretched limbs into life. But before I could begin to consider my next move she was back; appearing from the trees like a ghost. She landed athletically, pinioning forward onto all fours, and approached warily. She checked before she reached me, perhaps with indecision, then curved her long torso to one side and padded a short way back to the forest.
I was absorbed with watching her move. So fluid, effortless. Her back was like a long spring; the interplay of muscles in hips and shoulders on either side so purposeful, so obviously powerful. Underneath, her abdomen rippled, and tiny breasts fractionally echoed each movement. How could this creature be anything but native to this environment? But, she was a predator: what did she eat?
She turned again. I suddenly realised her intentions, and smiled. Here I was, a zoologist with a completely new and completely perfect specimen, and she wanted me to follow her. My fright was not forgotten; but this creature, which had the tools and ample opportunity to eviscerate me, had actually saved my life. If anything, it seemed I would be safer with her, if we came across who or whatever had killed the professor.
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