Moon 514 || Blaze and the White Griffon

3 || Part 1: the Magic Woman

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Last revision: 2/15/2013

the Magic Woman

Dr. Boyd’s Mistaken Transmission

Moon 4 | Day 7

I didn’t believe it.  But there were a lot of things that I didn’t believe until I saw them with my own eyes.  Other people may have faith in things but I’m a scientist – or rather, I was a scientist.  I’m not sure what label should be placed upon me now.  Explorer perhaps.  Wanderer.  Vagabond?  I didn’t believe in flying snakes either.  They have them you know – they survived the Third Holocaust.  They spring from one tree to the next, slithering and flailing like a snake that swims, spreading their ribs and creating an indentation on the underside of their bodies that creates air pockets that they can manipulate.  Scientists technically refer to these as “gliding” snakes and I suppose that is accurate if flying means that you flap wings. 

But they didn’t see what I saw – the greenish-blue one. 

The one whose second set of ribs separated away from its body like a whole train of wings.  They didn’t see it glide over 100 yards on an even keel, undulating through the air on its spread appendages (wings if you want to call them that) until it landed on one of our junior scouts.  They didn’t see it coil up around his neck until his eyes bulged and his tongue hung out.  I did.  They didn’t see the fierce fight it gave before releasing the hapless fellow and slithering away in its newly crippled condition – riddled with knife cuts from the natives.  They didn’t see its separated joints like I did either.  They didn’t see its insides.  I did.  I dissected it.  The world’s only flying, constricting, poisonous viper.  One of the other natives got bit while trying to rescue his friend.  He was dead within twenty seconds – really: twenty.  What is the point of constricting your prey when you have poison like that?  I don’t know and I don’t suppose I’ll ever find out – or at least, I hope I never do.  I don’t want to see one ever again – did I mention it was over six feet long?

But flying snakes weren’t what awakened me from my scientific disbelief.  I analyzed the creature for days.  I measured it, I analyzed the innards before discarding them, I made sketches, I took samples, I even tried to tan the hide to preserve it.  It was a pathetic attempt but at least I preserved some of  the skin – it is quite beautiful – striking. 

Draco volans – the flying lizards didn’t make a believer out of me either – dragons some call them.  I thought that was quaint – of course, they would get that label.  That makes them sound exotic and inspiring and that generates better tourist revenues.  But they were really sort of boring in comparison with what I saw – they just glide from one tree to the next feeding on ants and termites and such.  The natives reported more ominous activities from these little creatures but they seemed more intent on selling tourist paraphernalia than real science – more intent on capitalizing off of the flying snake incident than protecting our crew.  With so few tourists, I suppose that I cannot blame them for capitalizing on freak incidents like the one we had with the flying snake.  They are just struggling to survive like everyone else outside of our Orders.  Of course, as opportunists, they were bound to exaggerate.

At least, that was what I guesstimated until I met her.

Not much taller than five feet, she was incredible in every way.  I found her when I went out on a hike on my own one evening.  I thought our chief scout was going to suffer from an anxiety attack when he saw me leaving on my own.  Our crew leader castigated me for wanting to venture out on my own but I reminded him that this was supposed to be a very safe area and that everything we had seen wreaked of funding issues – the scout just wanted a bonus for standing by my side – and the junior scouts’ comments about letting me die were surely similarly motivated.  So he let me go.  I hadn’t ventured more than eighty yards when I spotted her.