Specimen Days

'What do you expect to find, exactly?' 'Animals here, yes?'

'Some. Maybe. They say some of the hardier specimens are still around. Rats. Squirrels. Raccoons.'

She said, 'I go. I look.'

'You're telling me you think you can catch something out there?'

'I look.'

'By all means.'

Catareen slipped out of the truck's cab and seemed to vanish instantly among the trees. Simon and Luke got out, too. They strolled, stretching their limbs. Overhead, among the branches, stars were manifest.

Luke said, 'She's probably a good hunter.'

Simon thought of her talons. He thought of her teeth. 'Who knows?'

'I seem to remember,' Luke said, 'when I was little, there was a vid on Nadian customs.'

'That must have been an old one.'

'I remember some rodent thing they were fond of.'

'I have vague recollections. A gray hairless thing about the size of a gopher. Long tail. Very long tail.'

'Right. They cooked it with some sort of hairy brown vegetable.'

'Like a pinecone with fur. If you stewed one of those rodents with the hairy vegetable for five or six hours, you could eat it.'

'It was one of their delicacies.'

'Right.'

Luke said, 'They do have souls, you know.'

'I'm not all that big on the whole soul concept, frankly.'

'Because you're biomechanical?'

'What makes you say that?'

'Your eyes. It's subtle, but I can always spot it.'

'What about my eyes?'

'Hard to explain. There's nothing technically wrong with them.'

'They're biological' Simon said.

'I know that. Like I said, it's subtle. There's just a certain sense of two camera apertures expanding and contracting. Something lensish. The eyes of biological humans are sort of juicier. Or more skittish or something. It's not a question of the visual apparatus, more like what's behind it. Anyway, I can tell.'

'You're a smart kid, huh? How old are you anyway?'

'I'm around eleven. Maybe twelve. Does it matter? I've always had this heightened perception thing.'

'Through me many long dumb voices,' Simon said.

'The business with the poetry is interesting.'

'I hate it.'

'You dream, right?'

'In my way.'

'Do you like being alive?'

'Let's say I feel attached to it.'

'Do you worry about dying?'

'Programmed to. There's a survival chip.'

'Well, we're all programmed, don't you think? By our makers?'

'I'm not feeling all that philosophical at the moment. So, you're Exedrol?'

'Yep. When my mother got pregnant with me, she took a few handfuls.'

'Deliberately?'

'She thought Exedrol had some kind of program. Monthly reparation checks. I don't know who told her that.'

'She intentionally took a drug that would deform her child?'

'What can I say? She was always looking for a scam. She was that kind of person. I don't blame her.'

'Come on.'

'She gave me life. Gratitude is the only appropriate response to everything that happens.'

'Biologicals are mysterious.'

'A couple of years ago she and I joined this group that called themselves Holy Fire. Creepy bunch, really. Those were a few of the more intelligent specimens you met back there.'

'She was a Christian.'

'She was whatever it took to get set up for a while. The Christians will feed you if you take the vows.'

'Is your mother still with them?'

'Naw. She met a guy. A roofer the tabernacle had leaks. I haven't heard from her in almost a year.'

'She left you behind?'

'Roofer wasn't interested in fatherhood. She figured the Christians would take better care of me than she could. They're the ones that named me Luke. Biblical, you know.'

'Your real name being?'

'My real name is Luke. My old name was Blitzen. Like one of Santa's reindeer? Mom was… never mind what Mom was.'

'And you pretended to believe in their god.'

'Oh, I do believe in their god. I just don't like their methods.'

'Seriously.'

'I couldn't be more serious. I've had the Holy Spirit in me for almost a year now.'

'Oh. Well. I guess that's nice for you.'

' 'Nice' is probably not the best word for what it is.'

Simon and Luke had returned to the Winnebago and were sitting with their backs propped against its right rear tire when Catareen returned. She was surprisingly quiet. There had been no footfall, no snap of twig. She was suddenly there. She held something behind her back.

She said, 'I find.'

'You mean you really did catch something?' Simon said.

'Yes.'

'What is it?' Luke asked.

Catareen hesitated. Her eyes glowed in the darkness. She said, 'I fix on other side.'

'You don't want to show us?' Simon asked.

'I fix on other side,' she said. She took whatever it was she held and went to the far side of the vehicle.

'What's the matter with her?' Luke asked Simon. 'She's embarrassed,' he answered.

'Why would she be embarrassed? If she really went out there and caught something we can eat, she's a hero.'

'She doesn't want to look like an animal to us.' 'She's not an animal.'

'No. She's not. But she's not human, either. It's strange for her, living here.'

'How would you know?' 'I can imagine. That's all.'

Soon Catareen returned. She held the neatly skinned and filleted carcasses of two squirrels. She had removed their heads, feet, and tails. Her eyes dimmed and lidded, she offered them to Simon and the boy. Her cape was flecked with blood that shone darkly against the pale cloth. Simon hoped she didn't see him notice it.

He said, 'Thank you.'

'We'll be eating them raw, then,' Luke said.

'I have an idea,' Simon said.

He raised the hood of the Winnebago and lifted the housing of the minireactor that had been nested into the place where a battery once resided. It put out a pale green glow. The squirrel carcasses would be mildly contaminated but not enough to cause serious harm.

He took them from Catareen. They were warm and slick. They were clearly things that had been alive. He experienced briefly something like what Catareen must have experienced, catching and killing the squirrels. There was an inner click. He could put no other word to it. There was hunger and a click, a small, electrical trill inside his chest. He looked at her.