wytchcroft | on safari with hunter

Extracts from the personal journals and recordings of Phillius Joyce; being in the way of a rude account of my ventures to the heartland and my exploits therein.

Night upon the savannah, watching shooting stars burst into beauty above the horizon, flares to tempt the most hardened explorer; to make sentimental wishes and to follow those will-o’-the-wisps to wherever they lead - somewhere new, a path as yet un-beaten, undiscovered, unclaimed.

Again, call me sentimental, but I have earned the right. I have trod enough wastes, fought through enough battles in life and on a dozen worlds that I can be forgiven for savouring such moments.

Indeed earlier this very day I was stood here battling for my life against a horde of Raptors watching as they swarmed unto rage of my weapons and roaring to the last became metallic food for the shred ants.

Here on 5nor where the atmosphere is so often fractious and alive and electrical storms so common as to keep an aura blazing almost perpetually, the quiet of a wide dark night is to be savoured. Like the trail of the stars. I believe there is a tradition of making wishes under such circumstances - but there both my certainty and sentimentality end. And I can think of no wish in any case. My life is fulfilling enough.

Ah, indeed - you may well ask "why should we care?"

Well, if you have not found these records of interest, and myself therein personable enough by this point, then I cannot imagine why you would be reading - but for those that are, and with a view perhaps to posterity, I shall take this opportunity to make good on my promise and present myself more formally.

My name is Phillius Joyce, known to my friends as Phillius and those of a more modern turn of phrase as Phillius J.

I am an explorer and hunter and currently working, so I gather, for the Interspatial Forces Conglomerate.
I am writing, or more correctly compiling, these notes as well as my official log and reports at the behest of the NuTerran News Network, and my Agent and Editor. There is, I am informed, a good chance of publication. There is a thirst among the public for adventure and education.

Well, this world, 5nor, provides me with opportunities for both, and such experiences I am honoured to be asked to share.

5nor is an unruly world, left to develop alone and wild – but such was not always the case, for 5nor was in its time an active point of scientific research and, more importantly for you and I, a reclamation planet, by which I mean, a dump.

The particular form of waste dumped upon 5nor was those pieces of large mechanical, electronic or robotic manufacture whose usefulness had come to an end. Given the wide and sprawling nature of the Empire, the amount of waste demanded a small world be set aside – and of course such things are now quite common.

Less common, indeed one might say especially UN-common however are the traits, the quirks perhaps, which this intriguing planet continues to demonstrate.

As to the details of how I came to arrive at such a place, they may be given briefly thus:

Lodged between the gnashing teeth of the Decarras meteor belt is my club the Eumonides, a somewhat exclusive place (as you might imagine from its locale) that offers rest to those, like myself, that are often restless and who have gone without respite for great lengths of time. I was ensconced comfortably enough in the dark timbered lounge having retired there after finishing a fine evening of cards in the bridge room where I am often to be found.

In this instance however I had but recently returned from safari on the desert world of Argda Ve and for this reason spent much time in conversation retelling the most exciting elements of my excursion and listening to the same from the esteemed company around me, adventurous gentlemen to a tee.

I was, I believe, gazing meditatively into the warming image of the holo-fire when I heard a polite cough.

Turning my head I discovered a small, neatly dressed man peering up at me. In his hand was an attaché case. “Yes?” I asked, somewhat bluntly.

The man seemed taken aback by my size and forbidding exterior. I have frequently found this to be the case.

I beckoned him to one of the unused chairs, of which the club has many, in order to the put the man at his ease.

Presently the mouth closed and the eyes regained a more normal size and shape.

"You must excuse me," he said at length, "for though I had been informed of your imposing physique and demeanour, even so - I must confess myself shaken."

I hummed and hawed at this, pointing with a cigar towards the fire.

"The universe is wide and strange my friend and it takes a certain type of rugged individual to seek out its farthest corners and tame them. You are too easily cowed."

He nodded slowly. "Perhaps, indeed... Yes." The man had a narrow sandy haired moustache and he proceeded to tug the ends, this lent him a somewhat marsupial air.

I was somewhat afraid we would circle in such a fashion forever - but pulling himself together the man opened his case and produced a wallet, from which he removed several artefacts including charts, a map and some blurred photographs.

I could feel my natural curiosity stirring but there was a pause as the man collected his wits and gazed about the club.

"I have read of these antiquity clubs but never before set foot in one."

"That much is plain."

"I am impressed - the detail... so elaborate."

"Necessary surely? And of course when there is a genuine love for such things, well... For us at least, here - we can bide our time in a suitable fashion."

The man signalled his curiosity with an eyebrow.

"Your language..." drawing my attention to it, "your mode of speech..."

"What would you expect Sir? This club is manifest evidence of interests historical, a passion for a time when such as I - such as WE - that frequent this establishment would have been more at ease. The days of heroism Sir, of wild adventure, the last romances indeed were written on the threshold of a devouring century, a century in turn eaten by millennia."

The man smiled at that, "Ah, you are a philosopher?"

"Simply an explorer Sir, nothing more."

The visitor sighed and settled back into his chair. Finally he waved the documents, fanning them slowly outwards as a Gentleman might do to reveal a winning hand at cards.

"Then I believe these may be of interest," he said at last and with a glance that might, uncharitably, have been interpreted as sly.

I examined them, leaning down with some awkwardness to study the assortment f writings, photographs and maps that he was showing. The maps caught my eye, modern as they were – for the holograms dancing across them revealed bright sparks of electrical fire, glimpses of verdant wild land and, as now, humid cloud banks tinted to rose by a coming dawn.

Such clouds indeed are fast flying at this moment, and towards me it seems, from an horizon where but moments before there were stars.

I must perforce be brief in my recollections.

A clutch of documents, I could see as the man shuffled them, showed greater detail and a surprising contrast for here was coal-black sludge and leaning towers of iron in ragged formation, a far less appealing vista.

“Yes,” said the man – who had still to introduce himself, “this is refuse world number 54KALE4ghh#5nor aka 54KALE known as 5nor. Typical of its kind, you might think, looking at these.”

I pointed a finger. “But these are markedly different – two separate worlds surely?”

Satisfaction was creeping across his face. “Not at all," he said, "They are one and the same. It would appear that the wild has reclaimed the planet for the land has heaved up on its plate tectonics and spat land masses and vegetation, weather and wildlife where no were known before.”

“Hmm…” I could of course see why this stranger had come to me. “Whilst it is true Sir that my talent is the tracking and containment of the untamed and that many of the trophies here are my handiwork – even so, I have but lately returned here and am in need of rest and revitalization.”

He was not to be so easily gainsaid. “What better form of revitalization than the hunt – eh?”

“Perhaps, but I can do so at my leisure, and in any number of locales – why should I…”

He cut me off. “Because the wild creatures of 5nor are not merely game – these are no common beasts – they are unique and they should be of especial interest…”

“Why so?”

“Because they are machines.”

I tried to contain my reaction to this unexpected news.

“Indeed,” he pressed his point home eagerly, “machines such as you.”

This was the beginning of my mission which even now I am endeavouring to report as best I can.

................

there's been some interesting synchronicities with ths chapter so i'm posting it now.
Apologies for any typos my tiny monitor hasn''t revealed to me.
thanks to Alex ad Dr Nyman and diverse flisters as ever :))

Current Mood: awake
Current Location: my club, the planet 5nor
Current Music: the beatles - hey bungalow bill