Is this possible?

I have been torn between wanting the company of the People and the knowledge that I could not survive as they do. My feet will not stand walking, I am all but helpless without the computer, and I have far less strength and skill than do they. I was happiest with Songbird, but I could not keep her separate from her people. Yet now she wishes to stay with me, along with Giraffe.

Rain Cloud and Dust Devil came together to the portico of my new home this morning, trailed by Songbird, Giraffe and Meerkat. They bowed low, much to my annoyance – I hate having my home treated as a temple. Then they began a long spiel, interrupting each other frequently, about how they wished to honor me but it was difficult when they would soon be moving on after the herds. That they had something in mind that they were not sure I would accept was obvious. Meerkat again?

Songbird had been rolling her eyes for some time when they paused for a moment and she broke in. (I am afraid she learned some very bad manners while she was staying with me.) “Giraffe and I would like to stay with you, to prepare your food and clothing,” she said.

My first reaction was delight. My second, almost as fast, was panic. Songbird is quite definitely pregnant, and I have no idea of how to deliver a baby. Would even the computer have any information on that? Babies are so rare with us that I really was not sure. Furthermore, I have already noticed that these people’s hips, even at their widest, are not as wide as those of a R’il’nian woman during pregnancy.

“Meerkat would stay, too,” she continued. “My mother says she has taught me what she could, but Meerkat has knowledge she does not. And her own clan does not need her – they have others skilled at helping new life into the world.

Skilled at helping new life into the world – a midwife? Suddenly the prospect brightened. Giraffe is an adequate hunter, especially paired with Patches, and I can supplement what he hunts with foodstuffs from places out of his reach. Between Songbird and Meerket that food will be far better cooked than I can manage myself, and with Meerkat as midwife and whatever is in the computer Songbird’s pregnancy is no longer so terrifying. With Songbird and Giraffe present Meerkat is unlikely to become a problem. I can once again devote my time to exploration, to learning as much as I can about this world.

Rain Cloud and Dust Devil were looking at me as if they expected me to strike them with lightning. “I would enjoy their company,” I said.

By my calendar, tomorrow will be the anniversary of Storm Cloud’s death. I think she would be pleased by this turn of events.

Year 4 Day 81

The gather is almost over for the year.

I keep telling myself, as the time for parting approaches, that they are clever animals, that their resemblance to my species is superficial, that I can have no real relationships with them.

I fool no one but myself, and I don’t do a very good job of that.

Meerkat, now plump again, has taken over the job of preparing my food and clothing. She is careful not to annoy me, but there are times, when she does not know I am watching her, that she looks strangely wistful. Did my refusal to accept her as an acolyte last year hurt her that much? She still has no real place with Rain Cloud’s group; they have taken her in because she has no place to go, but none of the males of that group would be willing to take her as a second mate. I am not sure why. Certainly her skills at cooking and clothing preparation are above average—far better than Songbird’s were when I first took her in, and even those were far better than mine. I suspect she is not willing to take second place.

This is an excerpt from Jarn’s Journal, the fictional journal of a fictional human-like alien stranded on Earth in Africa, 125,000 years ago. A longer version is on my main blog; the whole Journal to date is on my author site. For other science fiction and fantasy snippets, go to Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday–and we all love comments.

The gather is almost over for the year.

I keep telling myself, as the time for parting approaches, that they are clever animals, that their resemblance to my species is superficial, that I can have no real relationships with them.

I fool no one but myself, and I don’t do a very good job of that.

Meerkat, now plump again, has taken over the job of preparing my food and clothing. She is careful not to annoy me, but there are times, when she does not know I am watching her, that she looks strangely wistful. Did my refusal to accept her as an acolyte last year hurt her that much? She still has no real place with Rain Cloud’s group; they have taken her in because she has no place to go, but none of the males of that group would be willing to take her as a second mate. I am not sure why. Certainly her skills at cooking and clothing preparation are above average—far better than Songbird’s were when I first took her in, and even those were far better than mine. I suspect she is not willing to take second place.

I say were, because Songbird has learned a great deal from her mother since the days when she lived with me. Although Meerkat does most of the cooking, Songbird still prepares some of my favorites when she can coax me into bringing her the ingredients. Giraffe has become a good hunter, and is one of the few who seems able to work with Patches.

I will miss them, and the care they take of me.

Most of my writing work this past week has been reformatting and rereading my trilogy before sending it to my editor. I still like it, and might even start tweeting quotes from it–but not challenging people to name the context!

I think last year the gather was longer than usual, because of Storm Cloud’s illness and possibly because of my presence. This year I can see more clearly why they have these meetings, and that not all the scattered bands come. Two are here for the first time in several years, one sent word they were not coming, and three simply did not show up.

Mostly, the business of the gather is arranging matings, formalizing them, and recognizing and welcoming children born since the last gather. Beyond that, it seems a time for meeting old friends, exchanging information, and just plain partying.

Did I mention that they have discovered that certain half-rotted fruits affect them rather strongly? They don’t seem to affect me, and I don’t even care for the taste. Some of the young men, in particular, can get downright wild and irresponsible when indulging. I was pleased to observe that Giraffe was not among them.

I am getting quite spoiled by the cooked food they bring me, and I am doing my best to make returns by presenting them with things they have difficulty in procuring for themselves.

Jarn’s Journal is a fictional journal kept by a fictional human-like alien who was stranded on Earth, in Africa, 125,000 years ago. The climate was interglacial at the time; the People are our ancestors. I’m writing the Journal in bits as you see it here and on my main blog; each week’s episode is added to the long version on my author site. Jarn’s story is part of the backstory of the Jarnian Confederation, where my science fiction novels Homecoming and Tourist Trap are set.

By the way, Tourist Trap was reviewed in my local paper last week. I was really pleased by this: “Bowling is truly one of those authors whose books you devour, coming up sated but already hungering for another fix.”

I think last year the gather was longer than usual, because of Storm Cloud’s illness and possibly because of my presence. This year I can see more clearly why they have these meetings, and that not all the scattered bands come. Two are here for the first time in several years, one sent word they were not coming, and three simply did not show up.

Mostly, the business of the gather is arranging matings, formalizing them, and recognizing and welcoming children born since the last gather. Beyond that, it seems a time for meeting old friends, exchanging information, and just plain partying.

Did I mention that they have discovered that certain half-rotted fruits affect them rather strongly? They don’t seem to affect me, and I don’t even care for the taste. Some of the young men, in particular, can get downright wild and irresponsible when indulging. I was pleased to observe that Giraffe was not among them.

I am getting quite spoiled by the cooked food they bring me, and I am doing my best to make returns by presenting them with things they have difficulty in procuring for themselves. Salt and obsidian, I have found, are always welcome, as are foodstuffs from the jungle to the north. I have found a kind of tree in desert oases that produces a fruit even sweeter than figs, and these fruits, dried, last for months. The children love them. The men are adding water and trying to ferment them.

Songbird is quite definitely expecting. Strange — I almost feel like a grandfather-to-be. I hope the birth is not difficult for her, as some seem to be for these people. I suspect their heads have enlarged faster than their hips have broadened. The women of my people broaden far more in the hips when they are fertile, but only then. Songbird would have a hard time keeping up with her band if he hips had broadened enough to have a child easily.

This is part of the Journal of Jarn, a fictional human-like alien stranded in Africa 125,000 years ago, when the climate was much like today’s. As I complete each week’s episode, I add it to my author site. I apologize for the trimmed fronds on the date palm in the photograph. The ones Jarn found would obviously have been much shaggier, and the wild dates were probably smaller.

They’re here!

I’ve been expecting their return for the last two fivedays, and even resorted to flights over the surrounding countryside. I spotted the first group, a day or two away, three days ago, and have seen several since. There are things I can find more easily than they can, and I have laid in a good supply of salt, tropical fruits, and obsidian.

I need to trade for tanned skins and cooking. I can get foodstuffs easily enough, with Patches’ help, but the computer is not much help in telling me how to cook them.  Same problem as the architecture program, but worse: the recipes assume I have a cooker that needs only to be programmed.

Perhaps I should have accepted the offer of Meerkat’s help? Her cooking could not be as bad as mine. But her company ….

Jarn’s Journal is the fictional journal of a fictional alien who was stranded in Africa 125,000 years ago. His story is part of the back story of the Jarnian Confederation, in which my science fiction novels are set. This segment is a shortened version of the one that was on my main blog; Jarn’s story to date can be found on my author site.

Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday is a blog ring of science fiction and fantasy authors posting up to 10 sentences of their work each Saturday. Since the ring is defined by Saturday in the UK and I live in Alaska, my snippets are actually posted Friday night.

They’re here!

I’ve been expecting their return for the last two fivedays, and even resorted to flights over the surrounding countryside. I spotted the first group, a day or two away, three days ago, and have seen several since. There are things I can find more easily than they can, and I have laid in a good supply of salt, tropical fruits, and obsidian.

I need to trade for tanned skins and cooking. I can get foodstuffs easily enough, with Patches’ help, but the computer is not much help in telling me how to cook them.  Same problem as the architecture program, but worse: the recipes assume I have a cooker that needs only to be programmed.

Perhaps I should have accepted the offer of Meerkat’s help? Her cooking could not be as bad as mine. But her company …. Not to mention the assumptions she was quite willing to make! The People are better company than Patches, and I might as well admit that company has become more important to me than tanned hides and cooking, but they are not R’il’nian.

Songbird and Giraffe were, predictably, the first to wish to see my new home, and the most charmed by it. I’ve managed a small heat pump which keeps food cool, and Songbird was amazed and delighted to see how meat would keep fresh for a few days without salting, drying and smoking. They are to be mated at this gather, and I assumed they would be staying with Rain Cloud’s group, but they seemed a little hesitant about that. They could go back with Dust Devil’s group, but do not seem enthusiastic about that, either.

I hope they make up their minds soon, Unless I am very mistaken, Songbird will be a mother before the next gather.

Jarn’s Journal is part of the back story of the Jarnian Confederation, the setting for my science fiction novels. Jarn is a human-like alien, a R’il’nian, who was stranded on Earth, in Africa, about 125,000 years ago at the height of the penultimate interglacial period. He has met and is increasingly dependent on a group of primitive humans, the People. The parts of his story blogged to date are combined in my author site.

Visit the other Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday authors. And we all love comments.

 Year 4 Day 1

How strange it feels to write this date, and realize that in 116 days I will have been here for four years. It is the northward equinox again, a fitting day for my final move. The solar panels are installed, I have almost completed a crude generator, and I have moved everything I can possibly use from the old shelter. It seems strange to return there now and see nothing but the calendar.

The nomads will be here in a few fivedays, if they follow the same schedule they did last year. I wonder what they will think of my new home. It is not at all conspicuous, and I can at least hope they do not try to treat is as a temple.

I have to admit that I will be happy to see them again. I need to trade for more tanned skins and weaving, and I’m afraid my cooking has not improved with time.

And to tell the truth, I am increasingly lonely here.

How strange it feels to write this date, and realize that in 116 days I will have been here for four years. It is the northward equinox again, a fitting day for my final move. The solar panels are installed, I have almost completed a crude generator, and I have moved everything I can possibly use from the old shelter. It seems strange to return there now and see nothing but the calendar.

The nomads will be here in a few fivedays, if they follow the same schedule they did last year. I wonder what they will think of my new home. It is not at all conspicuous, and I can at least hope they do not try to treat is as a temple.

I have to admit that I will be happy to see them again. I need to trade for more tanned skins and weaving, and I’m afraid my cooking has not improved with time.

And to tell the truth, I am increasingly lonely here.

Jarn’s Journal is the fictional journal of a fictional human-like alien stranded on Earth, in Africa, 125,000 years ago. The complete story to date is on my author site.

Well, they’re gone again.

I shouldn’t be surprised. They follow the herds, and the herds had gone on. I think now that they stayed in one place much longer than usual when Songbird led them to me, perhaps because Storm Cloud wanted to learn what she could from me. But I will be seeing them again at the Gather.

Songbird and Giraffe will be formally mated there, and I would not be at all surprised if Songbird is pregnant by then. Not that it will make the least difference to anyone; it is considered rather a good omen if the fertility of the bride is proven.

Meanwhile I might as well start deciding what I want to take with me and what is the best way to manage power. The solar panels are limited, they will not last forever, and I have no way of building more, so some other kind of power generation will be necessary if I plan to stay on this planet. As if I had any choice!

In case you’re new to this, Jarn’s Jounal is the (fictional) journal of a (fictional) human-like alien stranded on Earth, in Africa, 125,000 years ago. A longer version is on my main blog; my author site has all of Jarn’s Journal to date.

Visit the other Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday authors. And we all love comments.

Well, they’re gone again.

I shouldn’t be surprised. They follow the herds, and the herds had gone on. I think now that they stayed in one place much longer than usual when Songbird led them to me, perhaps because Storm Cloud wanted to learn what she could from me. But I will be seeing them again at the Gather.

Songbird and Giraffe will be formally mated there, and I would not be at all surprised if Songbird is pregnant by then. Not that it will make the least difference to anyone; it is considered rather a good omen if the fertility of the bride is proven.

Meanwhile I might as well start deciding what I want to take with me and what is the best way to manage power. The solar panels are limited, they will not last forever, and I have no way of building more, so some other kind of power generation will be necessary if I plan to stay on this planet. As if I had any choice!

The computer needs electricity. It also has instructions on how to build a simple generator, though for that I will need to find copper and iron. Native copper is used by the People for ornaments, so it should be no real problem to form it into wires telekinetically. I may have to use some very delicate telekinesis to get iron from iron oxide, though.

The energy to run a generator? There are several possibilities. Direct heat from the sun, focused by a curved mirror, is one, and perhaps the best. A water wheel is a possibility as well, and the same spring that is supplying my drinking water runs into a stream flowing fast enough to use. I want something that will not require constant attention.

What to take with me? I am a little surprised at how much I have accumulated. Some of my first, rather crude containers can be left. The panels and insulation from the original escape capsule may still be useful, and of course clothing made by the People. My own crude attempts at tanning skins and using them for clothing can certainly be abandoned. Cooking utensils and the cooker from the capsule – yes, if I can manage electric power. I haven’t been using them here, but that’s because what power I have from the solar panels has to be used for the computer and lights.

I might as well start planning how to move the computer.

Jarn’s Journal is the fictional journal of a fictional alien stranded on Earth 125,000 years ago. His story is part of the remote background of my science fiction universe, the one in which Homecoming and Tourist Trap are set. The entire story to date is on my author site.

Year 3 Day 275

Songbird has become a woman.

I don’t know why I am so surprised. I knew that these people mature far faster than my own species, that the females are fertile quite often – they must be, to have several children of different ages at once. I had deduced that with them, pelvic width and breast development were not a sign of rare fertile periods, as is the case with my own people, but normal once sexual maturity was reached.

Somehow I had not applied that knowledge to Songbird.

I decided to go looking for Rain Cloud’s group, with the aid of Patches. She knows them, so I just levitated high enough I could see a day’s journey in all directions, and then teleported her to the vicinity of any concentrations of game I could see. Within three days she had located the group, and I flew to them, lowered myself to the surface and walked in.

They appeared pleased, if surprised, to see me. “Are you not staying by the lake?” Rain Cloud asked me.

“I have built a shelter there, but I have not yet moved everything I need,” I explained.

Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday is a web ring of science fiction/fantasy authors who post snippets of their work each Saturday (UK time.) Have a look at the other participants!

I don’t know why I am so surprised. I knew that these people mature far faster than my own species, that the females are fertile quite often – they must be, to have several children of different ages at once. I had deduced that with them, pelvic width and breast development were not a sign of rare fertile periods, as is the case with my own people, but normal once sexual maturity was reached.

Somehow I had not applied that knowledge to Songbird.

I decided to go looking for Rain Cloud’s group, with the aid of Patches. She knows them, so I just levitated high enough I could see a day’s journey in all directions, and then teleported her to the vicinity of any concentrations of game I could see. Within three days she had located the group, and I flew to them, lowered myself to the surface and walked in.

They appeared pleased, if surprised, to see me. “Are you not staying by the lake?” Rain Cloud asked me.

“I have built a shelter there, but I have not yet moved everything I need,” I explained.

They looked at me in utter bewilderment. Shelters, to them, are temporary things, intended to last no more than a few fivedays at most. Possessions are worn or carried. The idea of having more possessions than could be carried was totally foreign to their way of thinking.

I seem to need more than that: the computer, a safe and reliable water supply, protection from wild animals as well as the elements, and a place to sleep. And footwear, of course, which still totally puzzles them.

What will they think of my new dwelling?

Well, at least I had a chance to visit with old friends. Songbird seems quite happy with Giraffe, and they plan to be formally mated at the next Gather.

Why does that make me fell sad?

 Year 3 Day 270

My new home is almost finished – at least as far as the structure goes. I decided to cover most of it with soil and vegetation, for insulation. I do have windows, deep-set and transparent, looking in all directions, but from outside only the porch and entryway are obvious. The site is well above the lake, with both hot and cold springs supplying me with water. It’s wonderful to have a large soaking tub again!

So far it’s only a shell. I’ve been teleporting back and forth to the old shelter, recording my journal there and moving what I need at the moment to the new site. Today I found that the rains had started at the old site, so last year’s drought was a relatively short one.

Will Rain Cloud lead the group I know best back to the vicinity of my old shelter? From the steady drumming of the rain on the roof, the grass will soon begin growing and the animals should follow it to provide good hunting.

My new home is almost finished – at least as far as the structure goes. I decided to cover most of it with soil and vegetation, for insulation. I do have windows, deep-set and transparent, looking in all directions, but from outside only the porch and entryway are obvious. The site is well above the lake, with both hot and cold springs supplying me with water. It’s wonderful to have a large soaking tub again!

So far it’s only a shell. I’ve been teleporting back and forth to the old shelter, recording my journal there and moving what I need at the moment to the new site. Today I found that the rains had started at the old site, so last year’s drought was a relatively short one.

Will Rain Cloud lead the group I know best back to the vicinity of my old shelter? From the steady drumming of the rain on the roof, the grass will soon begin growing and the animals should follow it to provide good hunting. I will begin planning to move the rest of the solar panels and the computer soon, but might I not stay here long enough to see if my friends come?

Perhaps I should search the area for them? I must confess I am curious to see whether Songbird and Giraffe will make a pairing, and perhaps even have a child. Of course a pairing here is only a commitment on the part of the male to protect his mate and her children; these people have no concept of biological fatherhood and that is one thing about which I have no intention of enlightening them. But Songbird is no longer a child herself, and it would be pleasant to see hers.

I wish there were women of my own species here.

Year 3 Day 195

I think I’ve solved the light problem. I’ve been fusing the local soil for the main structure, and have gotten pretty good at it. It takes a lot of energy, and while I can get some of that energy from the waterfall, I am still limited to a small amount of building in a given day.

In a way this has been an advantage. Since I can do only a small amount a day, I’ve noticed that different soils give different colors to the fabric of the structure, and started searching for different raw materials, just out of curiosity. And I’ve found a pale sand that is translucent when fused. In fact, today I tried really increasing the fusion temperature, and found that if I heat it until it is all liquid and then cool it rapidly, it is transparent enough to see through. I can use it at strategic points to have a view of the lake and the mountains when I am indoors! I can even view the wildlife safely.

Happy Dance: I got back the ForeWord Clarion review of Tourist Trap, my book that won Fiction Book of the Year in the Reader Views contest. 5 stars, and they don’t give those often!

Jarn’s Journal is a snippet from the fictitious journal of an equally fictitious human-like alien who was stranded in Africa 125,000 years ago. The story may be found on my author website, and there is a longer version of this week’s episode on my main blog. Visit the Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday website  for snippets from other SFF authors.

I think I’ve solved the light problem. I’ve been fusing the local soil for the main structure, and have gotten pretty good at it. It takes a lot of energy, and while I can get some of that energy from the waterfall, I am still limited to a small amount of building in a given day.

In a way this has been an advantage. Since I can do only a small amount a day, I’ve noticed that different soils give different colors to the fabric of the structure, and started searching for different raw materials, just out of curiosity. And I’ve found a pale sand that is translucent when fused. In fact, today I tried really increasing the fusion temperature, and found that if I heat it until it is all liquid and then cool it rapidly, it is transparent enough to see through. I can use it at strategic points to have a view of the lake and the mountains when I am indoors!

According to the computer, this fusing followed by transparency is due in part to the fact that the liquid does not crystallize, but cools to a glassy, very viscous liquid state. I may have to reshape it periodically, but I will be able to see out. I may use it in other directions than toward the lake, as it will allow me to view the local wildlife from a place of safety.

Of course that only allows for light during the daytime. The solar panels and the lights from the emergency capsule will have to do at night, but since this shelter is to be larger than my old one, and much larger than the original capsule, I have lights and panels enough for only a single room. I may have to be content with firelight, as I am going to need the input from the solar panels for the computer.

I’m also rebuilding the calendar. This place is a good deal nearer the equator than my old one, though still in the southern hemisphere. But I can tell that today is the day of the southward equinox. I wonder—do the People wander back and forth, or in a circle that touches here only once a year?

Year 3 Day 136

The computer is no help at all.

Oh, it has an architectural module. I can play all I want with floor plans, wall finishes, furniture – anything like that. But it assumes I have access to finished materials, standard furnishings, and robot builders, none of which are available here.

What I do have is plant material in a wide variety of shapes, sizes and hardness, animal skins and bones, rocks of all sizes, and dirt. Lots of dirt. Can I use the architectural program to define the shape of what I want, and somehow build walls, roof and even furnishings from what I have?

I decided some time ago on a site. It is well above the lake, with a beautiful view. I wish I had some transparent material that would keep animals and insects out while allowing me to look out, but for the moment daylight will have to come from thinly scraped skins.

The computer is no help at all.

Oh, it has an architectural module. I can play all I want with floor plans, wall finishes, furniture – anything like that. But it assumes I have access to finished materials, standard furnishings, and robot builders, none of which are available here.

What I do have is plant material in a wide variety of shapes, sizes and hardness, animal skins and bones, rocks of all sizes, and dirt. Lots of dirt. Can I use the architectural program to define the shape of what I want, and somehow build walls, roof and even furnishings from what I have?

I decided some time ago on a site. It is well above the lake, with a beautiful view. I wish I had some transparent material that would keep animals and insects out while allowing me to look out, but for the moment daylight will have to come from thinly scraped skins. Beyond that, I’m still not sure what I’ll use to make a dwelling. Parts of the emergency capsule are still usable, and I’ll certainly teleport the computer and the solar panels to the new site, but there must be a better way to build a shelter!

This is one place where the people would be of little help, even if they were here. They simply do not build permanent shelters.

I wonder …. Is it possible to fuse dirt into something harder with my esper abilities?

Jarn’s Journal is the remote back story of my science fiction universe — really remote. Like about 125,000 years. It is the fictional journal of a human-like alien stranded in Africa during the penultimate interglacial, and the story to date can be found on my author website.

Year 3 Day 92

They bury their dead.

It seems terribly messy and unhygienic to me, leaving their bodies to be eaten by burrowing animals and worms, but they dressed Storm Cloud in all her shamanic regalia, wrapped her in a tanned antelope skin, and lowered her body into the pit they had dug. Then each of her descendants filed by the pit to add some small offering—mostly foodstuffs—before they filled in the pit with earth. I gave her the shell I had found by the sea.

By their beliefs, they are honoring her, just as we honor our dead by teleporting their bodies into our sun. It seems very strange to me, but our ways would clearly be impossible for them, and they must dispose of bodies in some way.

I teleported back to the shelter when the funeral was over, both to update this journal and to think. Does it make sense to stay here? I know now that this is beyond the range over which the People normally wander, even in good years. Would it not make more sense to move the solar panels and the computer to the vicinity of the lake?

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It seems terribly messy and unhygienic to me, leaving their bodies to be eaten by burrowing animals and worms, but they dressed Storm Cloud in all her shamanic regalia, wrapped her in a tanned antelope skin, and lowered her body into the pit they had dug. Then each of her descendants filed by the pit to add some small offering—mostly foodstuffs—before they filled in the pit with earth. I gave her the shell I had found by the sea.

By their beliefs, they are honoring her, just as we honor our dead by teleporting their bodies into our sun. It seems very strange to me, but our ways would clearly be impossible for them, and they must dispose of bodies in some way.

I teleported back to the shelter when the funeral was over, both to update this journal and to think. Does it make sense to stay here? I know now that this is beyond the range over which the People normally wander, even in good years. Would it not make more sense to move the solar panels and the computer to the vicinity of the lake? It is not quite as stable as here; the lake is in a rift valley. But I can perceive magma rising, and surely I could avoid eruptions.

Rain Cloud has told me that while they very the exact site of the gather, it is always somewhere along the shores of the lake, and if I chose to have a place there, they would find it much easier to locate me. He even suggested that Meerkat, who no longer has a group and cannot live by herself, could serve me. I am not so sure about that.

Storm Cloud is dead.

I am not sure how to react. Death among my people is so rare that all who know the deceased are shocked, stunned by something we do not expect.

These people see death as an enemy, yes, but as an enemy who will ultimately overcome everything alive. Everyone, they tell me, gets old and dies eventually, and Storm Cloud had lived for many years and had many daughters, daughters of daughters, and even their daughters, like Songbird. They grieve for her death, but they see it, not as a shocking surprise, but as the expected end of her life. Already they accept Rain Cloud as their leader and shaman.

I thought of offering to teleport her into the sun, as we honor our dead, but it was clear that they had their own plans. He daughters have been hidden in her shelter with her since she had died, and the men of the group, led by Rain Cloud, are digging a pit not far from the shore of the lake.

Could they be planning to cook and eat her body?

If you’re new to Science fiction and Fantasy Saturday, Jarn is a human-like alien, a R’il’nian, who was stranded in the Africa of 125,000 years ago when his experimental starship crashed. He has found and been befriended by a group of primitive humans, though he is somewhat annoyed by the fact that they insist on treating him as a god. His story is part of the remote back story of my published science fiction. This excerpt from his journal appears in a somewhat longer version on my main blog, and his entire journal (or as much as I have written to date) is on my author website.

Don’t forget to visit the other authors who post snippets of their work on Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday.

I am not sure how to react. Death among my people is so rare that all who know the deceased are shocked, stunned by something we do not expect.

These people see death as an enemy, yes, but as an enemy who will ultimately overcome everything alive. Everyone, they tell me, gets old and dies eventually, and Storm Cloud had lived for many years and had many daughters, daughters of daughters, and even their daughters, like Songbird. They grieve for her death, but they see it, not as a shocking surprise, but as the expected end of her life. Already they accept Rain Cloud as their leader and shaman.

I thought of offering to teleport her into the sun, as we honor our dead, but it was clear that they had their own plans. He daughters have been hidden in her shelter with her since she had died, and the men of the group, led by Rain Cloud, are digging a pit not far from the shore of the lake. A pit to roast an animal? But it didn’t look like that, somehow.

Could they be planning to cook and eat her body?

More often, of course, people just gradually disappeared, as I no doubt have to my friends. We grow tired of life, and careless, or we think too highly of our abilities to take care when care is needed, as I did. We leave no bodies behind. But we do not simply wear out, like objects and animals.

These people are not objects or animals. They are people. They think. They dream – perhaps more than I do. They create and feel beauty. But they wear out.

How can this be?

Yet there is no doubt Storm Cloud is wearing out. She asked me to stay, to watch over her people. She sleeps now, or did when I left her. I do not think she will awaken from this sleep.

Jarn’s Journal to date is on my author site.

These people age.

I know it, but I keep forgetting it. Animals age. My people don’t, but these People who have come to be so important to me age and die of that aging.

I knew Storm Cloud was old – her teeth are worn to stumps, her skin is wrinkled, and she moves with increasing difficulty, but somehow I didn’t realize she might be approaching her end. Until now.

Something has gone wrong in her brain, probably a blocked blood vessel. Her speech has become labored and slurred, and she cannot seem to move her left side. Songbird was sure I could help, but this is something quite different from setting a broken bone or fighting infection. I am no Healer, and I think even a Healer might not be able to help her beyond clearing the blockage.

For a longer version of this post, see my main blog. All of Jarn’s Journal to date is on my author site. And if you want to read more science fiction/fantasy snippets like this, or want to join in by posting your own, check out  Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday. And for glimpses into the world that results from Jarn’s actions, read my books.