Field Study

TerraWorld 3153 Report Notes

Project Investigator: Draco Ignatio Salva

[…]

Day 42 (morning)

Terrain: established woodland, temperate climate.

Organism identified: human, approx. 2 planetary orbits old, height about 1.5 claw lengths (I’ll measure it properly later, promise!)

It was small and brown, like a freshly baked pastry – but I mustn’t think of food, it’ll only make me peckish again. My supervisor always said I got distracted much too easily.

It screeched a lot – high shrill cries that could’ve shattered crystal. That might be a defence mechanism, as there’s been a sort of buzzing in my ears ever since. Like all the inhabitants here, it has no wings and no pyrotechnic capabilities. It did emit a pungent odour from one end when I picked it up though: another primitive defence mechanism perhaps? Its eyes are huge and a delightful emerald green colour. When I returned it to the ground I found that it can get quite a long way on two legs, but easily regresses to crawling when tired. I should perhaps add here that I truly was meaning to put it back where I found it. My supervisor has always stressed the importance of not getting involved – "you’re there to study and observe, that’s all" – but when I retreated to my interstellar habitation capsule to observe its behaviour I found it simply stayed within the clearing. Which was totally fine until the wolves appeared. I know we’re not meant to interfere with nature (and, trust me, the last thing I want is a repeat of the lizard-egg incident on the field trip to TerraWorld 3096), but this human hatchling was clearly not part of the indigenous ecosystem. I’ve been here now for a few dozen solar cycles and it’s quite clear that humans are moderately intelligent lifeforms with a well-established social hierarchy and possibly even a primitive form of communication (though if this hatchling is anything to go by “primitive” would seem to be the operative word). It did occur to me that rescuing an infant might be a great way of establishing friendly relations with the local populace too. Anyway, I popped it into the holding bay in my capsule. The pod is still camouflaged as a woodland cave with a forcefield blocking the entrance (the holographic programme has truly outdone itself this time) so the little creature should be perfectly safe. Will scout around a bit and see if I can find whoever’s lost it.

Day 42 (afternoon)

Lunch was delicious, but the only thing good about this afternoon. I did feel guilty eating when I had no food to offer the human hatchling, but I’m not entirely sure what they eat. They’re possibly omnivorous: when left to itself it demonstrates a spectacular degree of curiosity, and does eventually seem to try everything in its mouth.

Thin atmospheric haze and some nice headwinds for my survey flight, and it was great to stretch my wings for a bit. Full disclosure: I did accidentally ignite my map when I was making notes, but I’ll redraw the detail tomorrow. There’s a level four settlement just past the edge of the forest, which might be where the human hatchling came from. I don’t really see how it could have walked so far on its own, but perhaps it’s more tired than it looks. Will fly back this evening to return the hatchling – it’s far too much trouble to keep it here. Even if it doesn’t belong to the people at the settlement they’re sure to know who’s missing it.

Returning a lost child is always a great way to say hello, right?

Day 42 (evening)

I don’t understand it – I simply don’t understand it. I gave all the correct hailing signals (Professor Lucien Flambeau, Beyond Words: Communicating with the Unknown, pp. 351-5) but the locals didn’t seem to comprehend me at all. According to Professor Flambeau short bursts of flame shot into the sky, so the ash falls back on the unfortunate head of the originator, is a sure and irrefutable sign of friendship. All I got was an eye full of soot and an arrow through my wing when one of those confounded humans fired at me. And of course the much-lauded Prof Flambeau has no advice to offer when the lifeform in question responds unfavourably: I’ve got quite a few things to say to him that are more-of-a-comment-than-a-question at the next Xenobiology Conference. They didn’t even seem to notice the human hatchling I was carrying, and I had to retreat before they accidentally damaged it.

Fortunately I had the portable translation computer with me so was able to take some samples of the local dialect. If I leave the software running over night it should be able to approximate an audio translation of at least some of my Draconian by tomorrow, and then maybe I can persuade these angry little humans that I come in peace.

The hatchling seemed docile after the flight, and I’m sure things will all look a lot better after a good night’s sleep.

Day 43 (morning)

No sleep all night. I was wrong about it being placid – oh so terribly wrong! It began yowling shortly after lights-out and didn’t quieten down again until the sky was grey with the returning sun. Is this why they didn’t want it back? Do all human hatchlings do this? Is it ill? In pain? Possessed by demons?!

I tried returning it to the clearing and retreating to see if its hunting instincts would assert themselves, but the only thing it seemed interested in pursuing was me. Can these creatures look after themselves at this age? Or do they just adopt the nearest lifeform as their carer? Does it think I’m its parent now?! Eventually I capitulated and fed it some of the pureed protein meal from my stores. I know I’m not supposed to get involved! But it looked upset and it has these amazing huge eyes. I’m wondering if they might have some sort of hypnotic effect actually: when it stares up at me (like it is now) and starts babbling I feel irrationally like I’d hardly care if it trashed every console in the capsule and devoured every single packet of protein puree. I know everyone says I’m a sentimental old thing! But truly it is almost a shame I have to take it back – it is such an interesting little thing, and I’m sure I’d learn a great deal from being able to study it at close quarters.

But the translation software has just reported back that the key word it keeps repeating over and over, especially when it cries, is ‘Mama’. No wonder the poor chick looks so upset all the time! Its mother must be frantic. Clearly the arrows were just a misunderstanding: they probably hadn’t noticed that I had the hatchling with me, and were worried about what had happened to it. I shall simply have to return and try again.

Day 43 (afternoon)

Well that could have gone worse, but I can’t quite imagine how. It wasn’t all my fault – they started off by blowing loud trumpets, so naturally I thought they must be trying to communicate via large-scale soundwaves. I really did think we were making progress so eagerly roared back. Which to be fair would probably have worked better if I hadn’t gotten the hiccups halfway through: I always have been a little prone to indigestion in the afternoons. It doesn’t usually matter on Draconia where everything structural is fire-proofed (except for that one time in the chemistry lab, but that was fifteen years ago). Anyway, it turns out humans aren’t quite that advanced yet. I removed the smoldering roof at once to stop the fire spreading and singed my front claw a bit stamping it out, but do you know what I got for my trouble? Those ungrateful peasants actually started shooting more arrows at me! Well of course I dropped the smoking embers at once and made a complete tactical withdrawal. No sense sticking around to get shot full of splinters. They can put their own accidental fires out next time thank you very much. And one of their confounded little missiles nearly got the hatchling! Are they all this violent I wonder?

I should probably continue drafting my map of the local terrain, but I can’t hold the stylus with my claw injured like this. Will study the hatchling for a while instead – in any case it needs watching. Last time I took my eye off it for a moment it managed to break through the grill covering the ventilation chute that cools the habitation pod’s hologram projector. The ship flickered briefly between a volcano and a coral reef before I could switch the camouflage back to the woodland cave, but hopefully no one will have noticed.

Day 44 (morning)

Third attempt at returning the human. This time they hurled spears and fired some sort of giant catapult at me. I don’t understand why they wouldn’t want it back, it seems perfectly adorable. Until it screams of course (but such crises can usually be resolved by feeding one end or cleaning the other). Only very occasionally does it cry for no reason. It started to do this again last night, but a brief flight above the tree tops rendered it completely inaudible for at least twenty minutes. Truly, it is a most intriguing infant.

Day 44 (afternoon)

Joyous news! The hatchling’s mother is found at last! I’m not sure I’ve ever been so terrified in my life though: when she first jumped out at me with that sword waving my heart absolutely stopped. Fortunately I was halfway through helping the hatchling navigate the waterfall just outside the cave, and it was making that remarkably cheering sound that feels something like a cross between fairy-bells and a warm mug of cocoa. It’s probably just the human equivalent of laughter, but it’s extraordinarily soothing. Anyway, there was an awkward moment and my interspecies first-contact training course was absolutely useless (I am sooo going to message Professor Flambeau when I get the ship’s long-range transmitter working again). But the hatchling helped enormously: it scrambled over to its mother at once and started burbling away like any contented dragon chick. I took advantage of the hesitation to whip out the translator and at last, with a kick and a prayer, the software finally started functioning!

Maryam – that’s the mother – was delighted to find the child again (Ezmira, her name is, or Ezzy for short: so cute!). I missed the details of how they’d got separated, but she’d certainly encountered some of the wolves the day before yesterday and had been terribly afraid for her poor chick. Kept calling me a hero and all that, despite my modest protestations. Apparently they’re refugees from another small city situated a few miles away (or that might have been a few hundred miles away, the translator kept glitching). It sounds like they’d experienced a fairly standard category three conflict scenario: invading force oppressing the locals, women and intellectuals especially at risk of violent suppression, mass evacuation effort. It isn’t clear why they didn’t want her in the city I’m studying, but I think there may have been a language problem. These funny little sword and castle places have so many different local dialects! I mean just look how they reacted when I tried to say hello.

But now that the translation software has finally locked onto the indigenous vernacular everything should be fine. I’ve offered to take her back to the city tomorrow and try to talk to them on her behalf. Once they understand the situation, I’m sure they’ll want to help.

Day 45

Well that was a complete disaster. I sent Maryam on ahead this time, just to melt the ice. She looks so very thin and ragged, and ever so much in need of assistance. Of course the translator was no use at all: why do computers never work when you really need them to? I couldn’t work out what had gone wrong, and I had to scoop Maryam and Ezzy out of there when those perfectly delightful little townsfolk started hurling arrows and stones again. Absolute neighbors from hell! I even tried the long-distance semaphore alphabet that Professor Elliard recommends for interactions with tertiary-level socially-adapted life forms, but it was no use. I did endeavour to explain that I hadn’t ignited their building on purpose. Of course I realised afterwards that the translator was stuck on Maryam’s dialect at the time so perhaps that didn’t carry across quite so well. But surely these people must have hiccups themselves sometimes? Truly, their behaviour is most surprising.

Maryam cooked stew for us all tonight, and d’you know it was surprisingly delicious. I’m letting her stay in my habitation pod for now: goodness knows it’s big enough. I might have been over-optimistic classifying this place as a level four civilization when they abandon such talented cooks to the wilderness. But as I said to my supervisor that time I crashed a long-distance satellite probe into the surface of the gas giant we were studying, the bigger the mistake, the bigger the room for improvement. It’s only taken me one and a half lunar cycles to completely antagonise the local population, so I guess things can’t get much worse than they are now. Onwards and skywards!

Day 46

Ok, so I maybe spoke a bit too soon there, because apparently things actually weren’t yet quite as bad as they could be. But I’m getting ahead of myself here. I started the day with some basic reconnaissance. I’d edged round to observe the town from a distance, expertly concealed by the density of the forest canopy. Except that I got the hiccups again and soon there was lots of smoke everywhere and rather less tree canopy than there used to be (I guess there’s a reason that field study camouflage class was always my lowest grade).

Anyway, by the time the smoke cleared I could just see the town’s gate closing and a plump little figure stumbling down the highway in my direction. Wonderful! I thought – they’ve finally sent someone to have a proper conversation! I’m getting better at guessing human emotions now, and could tell from her wide eyes, pale complexion, and general shiveriness that she was rather nervous, but I did everything I could to put her at her ease: a friendly wing-waft, a brief chuckle of flame into the sky, a peaceful claw scratch across the dirt. And then she started screaming. I wondered at first if this was some new communication method, but I couldn’t make out any pattern to it and the translation headset got the most terrific feedback: my ears are still ringing.

I was working out how to respond when she spun on her heel and began to speed back to the city gate. I must confess that panic took complete hold of me at that moment. I simply couldn’t bear the thought of getting shot at again, but here was my one chance to communicate literally running away from me. I needed a plan, and all I could think of was to take her to Maryam to see if she could work out what was going on. So that was what I did. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant journey back, and there was a lot of tiresome shrieking. But she did seem to calm down a little when we landed back at the cave and she saw little Ezzy making patterns with a spare stylus and paper, and Maryam chopping up vegetables for dinner.

There were a few misunderstandings to begin with, but fortunately the new girl had atrocious aim and the only thing the knife hit was a holographic tree stump. The greatest shock came after Maryam had calmed her down enough to talk, then reported back with this startling revelation: "her name is Raina, and she thinks you’re going to eat her."

Never, in all my years of research, have I felt such consternation and horror.

"Eat her?" I echoed, my mouth flapping open like a startled goldfish, "eat her?! My goodness, don’t they realise I’m vegetarian?"

Further conversation revealed that the townsfolk not only expected me to devour this poor girl clothes hair and all (indeed they thought that was what had happened to Maryam) but they had sent her out to meet this fate because they actually thought she was the most expendable person in the city. Apparently her family had been paid handsomely to recompense them for her loss. A nice attitude from one’s own relations!

When we asked what her fate would be if she returned to the city to explain the situation she seemed nervous. After a while she admitted that she was previously to have been married to a successful merchant at least twice her age. Much as I would like to dispel the vicious rumors they are circulating about me, I couldn’t possibly leave the poor child to such a fate. It can be a little hard to tell with humans, but she barely looked old enough to have finished a first diploma (if they have such things here), never mind form a life-bond! Anyway, she’s staying with us for now. Though I have no idea how I’m going to explain all this to the Research Ethics Committee.

[…]

Day 67

As usual, there was another young lady waiting outside the city gates this morning, and also as usual she broke the sound barrier as soon as I flew off with her. Like all the others though, she calmed down as soon as we arrived back at the camp. Maryam was looking after Ezzy, but Raina and Sairi soon got her settled in. They’d made great progress with the treehouse while I was out and finally fixed the roof in place. I must admit I shall be glad to have a little more space and quiet inside my habitation pod. There must be two dozen of them in there now, and it is possible to be a little too close to one’s research topic.

Am beginning to wonder if this should be a sociological rather than a biological study – apparently they draw lots in the town square for who should be send out “to feed the dragon”, but actually the presiding authorities simply fish out the name of anyone who they think might upset the status-quo. Today’s young lady for instance, had been a blacksmith and vocal in her support for other women having practical careers. She used to offer shelter to women who fled home rather than be forced into marriage. I don’t even know how to tackle my report on this – these people encounter a perceived threat (me, embarrassingly) and they see it as an opportunity to get rid of anyone they don’t like? They are never going to believe this back on Draconia. But these days I feel like I can hardly help but turn up every morning, as I’m afraid for what might happen to these poor ladies if I don’t escort them to the safety of our growing enclave.

Perhaps I could pitch this to the Research Ethics Committee as an emergency intervention?

[…]

Day 93 (morning)

Where to begin today! My wing hurts like anything, and I have an absolutely frightful headache. But I had better go back to the start. The children were playing happily when I left (I still can’t believe they sent hatchlings to go and be "eaten by the dragon"), and the women were busy hammering the next treehouse together. Not before time either: since those refugees joined us last week we’re getting to be quite a large community now. We did think about sending a messenger back to the city to explain everything, but were rather afraid they might try to attack us again. They all seem to agree that at the moment I’m all that’s keeping them safe: me, who came dead-last in the featherweight wing boxing charity contest last orbital cycle back on Draconia! Hilarious isn’t it?

But the real problems started when I arrived at the city gates for my morning observations and instead of some poor nervous young lady I found something that looked rather like a sewage maintenance droid balanced on top of a quadruped (a horse I believe, though they are bit difficult to tell apart from the cows). It was metal all over with a big round thing strapped to one arm and a long pointy thing in the other (seriously, it looked just like the sort of tool those service droids poke down the drains back home). I soon realized my mistake though, when the sharp pointy thing came flying straight at me. I ducked of course, but not quite fast enough, hence the sore wing. For an agonising moment I wondered with horror if my scholarly brilliance had been completely duped by these people, and if the technological level of this place was actually much more advanced than I had believed.

It was such a relief when I finally realized that the metal thing was actually just one of the humans: apparently this is how their warriors dress for battle, head-to-toe in metal. I thought perhaps he had an anger management issue at first, he kept waving a sword around and challenging me to mortal combat (you should have heard some of the things he called me!). He definitely needed cooling off, so I flicked some water out of the stream and gave him a good sousing. The horse skittered like anything and clearly wanted to be somewhere else. By the time the second wave of water hit him he had to admit defeat (at least as far as the animal was concerned) and tumbled off onto the ground. The horse was halfway to the next city by the time he’d picked himself up again.

I took advantage of the opportunity to hurry back to the safety of the forest, and I nearly managed to lose him too. He was such a little chap I could have squashed him by accident and never noticed, but that wouldn’t have seemed entirely sporting. Plus he still had the sword.

Perhaps I should admit that by this point I was rather frantic – for the safety of the camp I mean. Maryam thinks I was just plain scared, but as I pointed out we dragons are complex and very sensitive individuals. The fact that I led the knight straight to us by running home was entirely unforeseen. Though it did actually turn out for the best.

The camp lookout had already spotted the commotion, and by the time I arrived back with the knight hot on my heels Raina had already got her defence team standing ready with swords in hand.

I couldn’t see the knight’s face because his visor was down, but I can only imagine it would have been an absolute study. His sword drooped in his hand and he froze.

The whole thing might still have turned nasty though, if Ezzy hadn’t suddenly crawled out of her play pen (she is such an escapologist) and wandered up between the knight and the women. Then with such beautiful pathos, the dear little thing pointed to my injured wing and cried out ‘Dracky hurt!’

Well that was it. The knight’s visor was up in a moment. ‘Excuse me,’ he said in a loud voice, ‘but would you mind telling me what the hell is going on here?’

Maryam took him off to one side after that, and Raina confiscated his sword. Ezzy brought me some wildflowers to make me feel better while Sairi bandaged my poor wing.

Day 93 (afternoon)

Maryam just got back from talking to the knight (Sir Yorj) and it’s good news – he’s a stranger in town and was just trying to help out. He was horrified when he heard about what’s really been happening here (though I suspect the idea of an extra-terrestrial dragon undertaking a research field trip was probably a bit more than his limited imagination could cope with – apparently the ladies just told him that I have a magical personality, or something like that).

Now he has a full understanding of the situation he actually seems like quite a decent sort of chap. He even came and apologized for injuring me and asked if he could do anything in recompense. Naturally I told him it was quite alright (although his insights will be very helpful for my research notes on human combat behaviour), and invited him to dinner. Should be an interesting evening.

Day 93 (evening)

Ok, so maybe a bit more interesting than I’d thought. Once our visitor got talking to the refugees and some of the other women he became quite agitated. Apparently he’s sworn to some honor code that requires its members to help all those in need and respect the rights of individuals to determine their own destinies (so he was pretty cross about the forced marriage thing). He’s been deep in conference with Maryam and some of the other leaders since we finished dinner, and I’m rather afraid they’re plotting something.

[…]

Day 94

I should say to begin with that I was totally against this action from the start (and if the Research Ethics Committee are listening to this recording, I really did try to point out the potential pitfalls). When Sir Yorj first suggested the idea of leading an armed delegation to reform the city I thought he’d had a bit too much of Sairi’s mead. It was quite a shock when I found he was serious. I warned them all about the arrows and the catapult, but there was no putting them off once they’d made their minds up. And, unsurprisingly, some of the women were rather cross at how they’d been treated. I was planning on leaving them to it – "don’t get involved" is, after all, absolutely my motto – but they were all so insistent.

Fortunately the city-dwellers were all too stunned to say anything when we arrived. I suppose it must be a shock to see all the people you’ve been sending to their deaths every day for the last two lunar cycles suddenly coming strolling back up to the gates brandishing swords. And this time I let Maryam and Yorj do all the talking (well, Yorj mostly – they actually seemed willing to listen to him for some reason). I stayed at the back with Ezzy perched safely behind my shoulder, trying very hard not to hiccup. It was all rather strange – the city-dwellers kept on shouting something about how the knight had “tamed” me, like I was some kind of pet. Ridiculous! On the other claw, I was just pleased they weren’t actually trying to murder me anymore.

Of course the city leaders were all still clearly terrified when they saw me, and when I leant down to explain how disgraceful I thought their behavior had been one of them actually fainted. Which was really quite interesting because I wasn’t sure until then if humans even could pass out. I made some sketches of the phenomenon while they talked: I must admit I only really tuned in again when someone suggested a feast. Which was wonderful because I was beginning to feel rather peckish.

After we’d eaten there were some speeches, which I struggled to follow (Ezzy was being so distractingly adorable playing with one of the castle dogs). But Maryam filled me in on all the detail later on. It seemed my accusation of bad conduct had actually made a profound impression on everyone – possibly because they believed I was a manifestation of divine displeasure, but I can’t help it if interstellar travel is beyond their intellectual capacity. The good news is they’re now convinced that a reformation is required, hence the ladies and refugees are all being treated like royalty. A new code of citizen’s rights is to be published tomorrow, and a people’s council established with Sairi and Maryam promoted to the position of councilors. The hierarchy here does seem rather volatile so who knows how long it will last, but it’s got to be a bit more civilised than what they had. They’ve even agreed to let me interview them on their social practices while I’m here! (the city-dwellers are calling it “confessing to the demon” but if it gets results…)

But I must leave it there for now: can barely keep my eyes open after all that lovely food. Oh, one last thing though – after dinner one of the refugees, Emreth, entertained us with a ballad from his homeland. The place has been ripped apart by war, and as he told us about his truly horrific experiences travelling here I could see Yorj was already getting fidgety. I did discretely advise him to do as I do and not get involved, but I’m not sure he was listening as just then he nearly choked on his wine. But the really interesting thing is that Emreth’s homeland specializes in aquatic farming (tiny molluscs used for dying cloth! Fascinating stuff!). I would love to see it, if only it were safe to visit. Though I’m fairly sure that Yorj is going to ignore me and march off to liberate the city anyway. So maybe I could just tag along, inconspicuously? Just to observe of course. Absolutely not to get involved…