Microstory 898: Gerrafy and Nanomouse

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Research log, July 31. A lot of people know that only one species of giraffa exists in modern day, but what I’m the only one who knows is that that is not true. There is another, extremely rare, but very much alive species that I have named the gerrafy. The few I’ve encountered were seven meters tall, but they were all female, and—based on giraffe sexual dimorphism—I believe they can reach upwards of eight and a half meters. I discovered the first specimen living in the depths of none other than the Amazon rainforest. If ever you were going to find an animal no one knew existed, it would be there, so I was not surprised. What I was surprised to find was a second hitherto unheard of species of mouse that I believe to now hold the record for the smallest in the world. The African pygmy mouse comes in at a length of only a few centimeters, but the shipayan nanomouse is barely one centimeter long, and I do not currently possess a scale sensitive enough to measure its weight. Even more interesting, these two phenomenal species seem to enjoy a symbiotic relationship between them. The gerrafy protects the nanomouse from predators, while the mouse rids the gerrafy’s fur of parasites, and other pests, which seem to be particularly fond of the oils its skin excretes. I’ve by now found a couple dozen specimens of gerrafy, and I’ve yet to find one that does not keep a nanomouse with her at all times. I’ve also never seen one of the mice away from its gerrafy companion. One would think there would be a population discrepancy between them, but I have not seen evidence of that yet. I will continue to study these beautiful creatures. I’ve taken one pair of them to the abandoned Museum Salinas, which was the only location I could find large enough to accommodate the beast. They have broken free of their cage, and are racing down the hallways. I believe they have made their way into my colleague’s truck. I will update tomorrow.

Microstory 628: Scourge of the Carriers

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Over the centuries, and back in the history of the old worlds, science and medicine has progressed greatly. We’ve not cured every disease in the universe, but scientists believe we’ve knocked a significant portion of them out. The problem is that, upon reaching a new planet, there is always a new host of dangers. There’s a certain way to approach a world that has not yet been experienced. Surveys, tests, and experiments are required if anyone plans on staying there for an extended period of time. Each time we come across a new world, we risk unleashing a disease that has never been seen before. This happens all the time, though, and the people who normally settle new worlds have gotten pretty good at handling whatever it throws at them. This is not what happened here. Not long after the replacement for Eido Feivel, Agantai Bauriter left her homeplanet of Haplen, an infestation began spreading across the surface. Some researchers now believe these pesky creatures—which live in their victim’s hair, and overheat their head—to have been surviving in some kind of dormant state deep under the ground. They were supposedly accidentally released into the population, carrying with them all kinds of previously unknown diseases. This is something many never thought would happen on a central world like Haplen. It’s no surprise to those of us who understand, believe in, and trust the taikon, though. The Book of Light predicts an inexplicable scourge of a carrier species that has not existed before. We do not believe they came from the ground, but that nature created them from nothing. It cannot be a coincidence that they surfaced at the perfect time to match with the taikon order, and no one will be able to convince us otherwise. As for the diseases themselves, they were quickly eradicated. Only a few hundred people died first. The scripture does not say what kind of people would be attacked, or whether it would be good or bad, but it turned out to have been rather irrelevant.