Day 10
Ah, to
have enough leisure time to attend to my writings; it is simply divine. There is altogether so much to record that it
will be difficult to accurately recall all of the details. I must pay more attention to this endeavor. Where to begin ….
Ah, yes, Friday last. After exhuming my wardrobe, intent on dawning
an outfit suitable for the manual labor I have set out for myself, I found my
old collegiate laboratory attire and a cache of those old miniature cigars I
used to get so much pleasure from. It
was tucked away deep in the back of the crate, wrapped around my old walking
cane.
I was so pleased to have found it, and nearly
overcome by speculation if the ensemble still fit, I simply could not resist
the urge to try it on. In my excitement,
I lost control of my good sensibilities and myself and doffed my uniform
without adequately concealing my soft flesh.
I fear that I might have already been too long away from civilized
society that it took the stark nakedness of the local castaways, by way of
comparison, for me to even realize what had been done.
Nonetheless, I dressed head to toe, in the
fashion I had become so accustomed to wearing at my alma mater, that I almost instantaneously
dropped back into my old routines. Sliding
those old goggles over my eyes, I was surprised to discover that the specially
tented glass and diffraction grids were still intact and perfectly functional,
although, I suspect, in need of some calibration. It is so pleasant to see the rainbows of
light again.
With the tools of the trade intact, I believe
that with a little fiddling, I should be successfully able to begin a wide
range of spectroscopic analysis forth with.
Of special interest will be that fluid either collected or secreted from
the substantial flowering plant in the forest.
However, I must also begin my search for the sundry elements I will need
to analyze my samples.
Oh, and I have indeed collected my first
major sample, a spot of blood from a creature of unknown species. For which, I am re-opening my research
journal. As I said, previous habits and routines
seem to come so easily in my old lab coat.
So, I will be labeling the focus of my first study Subject Aleph.
So as to not confuse my studies on this
Island with previous entries, I have chosen to use the Phoenician alphabet.
I
was able to collect the sample after sometime spent observing a most frightful
display. I arrived to the town square in
the evening, intent on checking up on the progress of a young woman I hope to
soon train to be an assistant. She seems
a bit flighty at times, but I am beginning to believe that it is part of the
island’s natural effect on people. My
hope for her came from her shame at her own nakedness, the first on the island
to express such to me since arriving.
Also she has already agreed to keep a watchful eye on the woods.
I truly hope she has the good sense to not
linger too long away from the relative safety of the town, nor be foolish
enough to engage in field observations without the proper blinds or a good
place of concealment. I have lost one or
two assistants in the past to such foolishness.
However, we live in a Darwinian world; survival of the fittest. One day, I will find a suitable assistant that
has the good sense to not lose his or her head.
Having found her among a collection of
other denizens, I was eager to receive her report, but thought better of it
after examining a full spread of almost medieval torture devices, many in
use. The most curious portion of this
tale is that it seems that items once used to coax confessions out of
criminals, academics that had slighted the Church, and unfortunates mistaken
for one of the previous two categories, these devices seemed to be used for
pleasure. I have yet to fathom that, but "when in Rome" I suppose.
I chose to abstain, lacking the proper
education on such devices; a situation I should soon remedy hopefully with the
aid of the trainer of domestics. After
all, one must fully immerse one’s self in a foreign culture if one is to
understand it. I will speak with her on
that matter at the soonest availability, although I must be sure to find her at
her most attentive, and least foul mood lest someone else be able to collect my blood.
It was upon one such machine, once unattended,
that I was able to purloin a sample of the most peculiar humour I have
personally laid eyes upon. Much darker
than other samples, it stained my handkerchief a deep burgundy, and even after
being reconstituted in a solution of water retains a far darker shade than one
would typically expect to see. The
creature from which the sample was obtained, is a most unusual one indeed,
completely unknown to me, and I suspect to science as well (a more complete description
will be found in my research journal).
Needless to say, the means to satisfying my
curiosity was facilitated by a series of grievous wounds inflicted by the
most horrendous looking of the machines.
The lacerations were caused by a set of needle-like attachments that
pressed into the creature’s breasts.
Under usual circumstances, I would hesitate to say breasts, but I feel
that given her clearly hominid-like appearance, it gives that word a more
accurate description than dugs or gland lobules. Without dissection or at least more extensive
examination, one cannot be sure.
I was informed by a new acquaintance that the
level of mutilation allowed was completely determined by natural regenerative
properties of the subject in question.
So, it seems, even in their cruelty, they show some basic level
of humane treatment to their “slaves”.
With such a stock of human flesh and others, I would assume that
somewhere in their hall exists a fairly extensive collection of records
covering at least basic medical files on each.
That is far better than I can say for the Clinic’s records, which had scarcely
an entry on that poor creature.
My acquaintance did mention that there has
not been a staff doctor on the island in quite some time. It may be that the clinic's medical records lapsed
when no one qualified took her place.
Still, I found the clinic to be reasonably well stocked, but a far cry
from St. Thomas’s Hospital in London.
But, before I sally to far from that
evening, let me first note my new acquaintance.
By all appearances, she seems to be closely associated with the woman
with the speech impediment, perhaps a domestic, but of that, I am not
completely certain. She manifested in
her feline form on Wednesday. On Thursday,
she appeared to be in some half-form and was able to engage in reasonably
polite conversation. On Friday, she
looked to be in complete health. I am keen
to investigate her condition more fully.
Yesterday I managed to pass several hours
perusing the journal of the island’s previous doctor. While I have learned a bit from her writings,
I was unable to identify the species, genus, family or even order of Subject
Aleph. I am reasonably sure that she is mammalian,
but beyond that, nothing makes sense. I
was hoping to find a treasure trove of anatomic information, but it seems that
the scientific education on Glint is somewhat … lacking.
Nonetheless, the hours I spent there were
not wasted. I have a much better feel
for the clinic, the types of injuries that are common on the island, and a bit
of an understanding of the history of the previous corrupt government. I must look into the events that led to the destruction
of the old government building, and the subsequent exposure of the subterranean
passageway. ((This is not what actually happened,
but you’ll have to figure out what did on your own.))
I also have
discovered that with the rest of the rules of polite society, even the
tradition of binding books front to back has slid, as has proper narrative descriptions
in fiction. Now (whenever that happens
to be), it seems there are odd books, which have exchanged verbose descriptions
for pictures, and flow from the last page to the first. Although reading in this manner afflicts me
with a most horrendous headache, I will endeavor to complete the book and
return it to the shelves soon. It may
hold the key to identifying Subject Aleph.
What else to record here… Ah yes, the exchange. I might have rectified a bit of an oversight
in etiquette common on Glint. I have arranged
for a proper announcement when I enter a room.
A recent arrival to the island, apparently quite the troublemaker, was
in such a want for the slightest stitch of clothing that she was willing to
enter into my employ performing the announcing duties that should be carried
out by the head servant of the house.
All that it cost me was my old knickers.
I have the added benefit of not having to
avert my eyes from her utter nakedness every time she is about. Not that the sight of her is unpleasing;
quite the opposite, but that she, along with the other denizens of this island
seem so far removed from urbane discourse that most have forgone the civilized
practice of wearing clothing.
I do hope that she enjoys those old
bloomers. They served me very well, and
with the tie closures properly adjusted—no I cannot lie even to myself. Out in the air as they are, they look
horrible on her, far worse than they ever did on me. With any luck, she will soon be able to cover
that most practical garment with some fine cloth tailored properly to fit her
frame. Until then, I suppose having a
half-naked stand-in butler to attend to my entrance is a step up from a fully
nude one, and a damn sight better than having to introduce myself. It is so unseemly to be forced to speak of
oneself as often as I have had to in recent days.
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