(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

As the Piper Cub skidded to a stop, Ray privately resolved never, never, ever to complain about the final approach to La Guardia Airport again. This close to the Lake Tele Community Reserve, airstrips were on the distinctly tiny side; you built where you could find solid enough ground to maintain your work. The La Guardia approach just dropped you over Jamaica Bay. This? Put you within smash-into range of trees that were probably older than the United States of America.

"It's all right," said Dr. Ndebele, catching sight of the look on Ray's face. "I hate small planes too."

"Was it that obvious?"

Ndebele pointed to Ray's hands; he'd gouged some neat little half-moons out of the seat, and there were bits of foam stuck under his fingernails.

"Whoops. Sorry."

Ndebele laughed. "It's all right. Come on, it's not far from here. . . Congratulations, by the way."

"On what?"

"On dressing like a sensible person. You have no idea how many travelers I've seen who had all the wrong ideas about how to prepare for swamp forest."

"I have a certain familiarity with the biome," said Ray, who'd never in his life imagined that he'd be thankful for his time in Nyissa. "There were more snakes last time, though."

"Hah. No, not so much of that here," said Ndebele. "The occasional water cobra or mamba, and some pythons. Though I would watch out for crocodiles, if I were you."

"That's all right. I get along pretty well with reptiles."

Ndebele gave him an odd look. "If you say so," he said. "Come. From here we have a great deal of walking to do."

'Walking' wasn't the right word for it. 'Slogging' was probably closer. The route Ndebele took passed through areas that hadn't seen dry ground in years; the forests were permanently flooded here, with the only variations being seasonal levels of muck. Ray had spent long enough in Nyissa that he'd packed along all kinds of insect repellents for the trip, but he couldn't avoid the thought of Nyissan river leeches, and whether they had any analogues here on Earth. Those suckers were nasty. As he tried to push the thought out of his mind, something brushed against his shoulder.

"Dr. Stantz," said Ndebele quietly, "don't move."

Ray froze. Sliding his eyes sideways, he spotted a blunt, reptilian head resting comfortably on his backpack strap. He'd have reached for Garion's amulet if he could, but… Well, at least it was next to his skin, anyway. It should still work. "Hey there," he said, very quietly.

Hey, the snake answered back amiably enough.

"Do you mind? We're just passing through."

Oh? Where're you going? inquired the snake. It didn't lift its head, but it flickered its tongue briefly.

"Dr. Stantz-"

"I'm working on it," Ray said. Then he turned his attention back to the snake as best he could without moving his head. "We're headed for the lake. Hey, you haven't seen anything the size of a couple of elephants stacked together lately, have you?"

Oh, the one who shakes the ground? the snake answered. Sure. I make a point of avoiding him, but he's come out of torpor. Be careful, he's dangerous.

"Thanks," said Ray, and the snake lifted its head and returned to the tree branch. Ndebele was staring at him. "What?"

"That," said Ndebele, "was a forest cobra. They don't like humans."

"I told you," said Ray, "I get along with reptiles. Lots and lots of practice. Shall we go?"

Ndebele shook his head, still eyeing Ray, and turned back to the path before them.

A few hours later Ray had had about as much of Earth's jungles as he ever really wanted to deal with. At least one of the Nyissan compounds had no discernible effect on the local insects. Nature, it seemed, still felt that he belonged in the city and was going out of her way to make that clear to him. Ndebele took it with amusement and a murmur of "You get used to it after a while. We all do," but it wasn't much comfort. "Are we almost there?" Ray asked.

"Oh, yes. Do you hear that?" Ndebele cocked his head in the direction of a low, grunting noise. "That would be the swamp monkeys. The bushmeat men go after them often- they had killed several the night of the encounter. . ."

Ray wasn't listening. He was peering up into the canopy at a tree that gave every impression of having been set aflame twenty feet above the ground, but doused by rain thereafter. Ndebele nodded. "There was fire that night," he said soberly. "It did not come from me, and it did not come from the hunters. And there was no lightning. The mokele-mbembe does not breathe fire, Dr. Stantz. None of the stories have ever made that claim."

If Venkman were there, he would've said something on the order of we're gonna need a bigger boat. Ray just gulped and nodded.

Comments

[zwol.livejournal.com]

[OOC: it's going to turn out to be Gojira, isn't it.]

[midnightlurker.livejournal.com]

(Either that or a fire-breathing Lloigor.)

[gone_byebye]

(nope. On both counts.)