The Tigress and Hugh Freight-EZ

The Tigress and Hugh Freight-EZ

Caution: this story contains mature language, scenes of violence and sex (eventually). This is a work of fiction and you read this at your own risk. All rights reserved 1999 David White

The story takes place today (very near future) in the mystery that is India. Comments are welcome, as are suggestions and corrections.

The Tigress and Hugh Freight-EZ

Houston (Hugh) Dallas was trying to get some sleep. He had just spent last 16 hours flying nonstop between Mumbai, India and Calcutta and was beat. Moe, his co-pilot, was at the controls at the moment letting him get a little shuteye. They were about three hours out of Calcutta on the way to Dibrugarh and then on to a little shit-stain village not far from the Myanmar (Burma) border, where they were to land and meet up with a documentary film crew headed up by some guy named Gunther Schmidt. Gunther and his merry band were planning on carting almost three tons of camera equipment and supplies into the deepest darkest jungles of India to film some butterflies or something. That was fine by him, as long as their check cleared the bank.
The DC-3 Dakota was a venerable old bird that had seen a lot in her almost 60 years. She had been built in 1944 and sent to England on the Lend-Lease program during World War II. She saw service as a troop transport and was used to drop Canadian and British paratroopers during D-Day. After the war, she was sold to India where she was converted into an airliner and served for many years. Later, she was converted to flying mail and cargo up until the late seventies. She was then sold and converted into a private business aircraft for some mid sized mining operation based out of Mysore until 1992 or so when the company went out of business. She was sold and used to smuggle drugs from Burma (called Myanmar now) and Thailand. She was confiscated by the Indian government and put in storage around 1996. Hugh had found the old ex-warbird sitting in a hanger in Hyderabad and had bought her for a little bit of nothing and rebuilt her from the ground up to be the flagship of the Hugh Freight-EZ transport company. He had spent the better part of two years tearing down the aircraft and bringing it back to airworthiness. During that time, he had hired on a local mechanic, Moe, to help him with the plane. He found out later that Moe was a former Indian Air Force pilot who had seen action over Pakistan and Kashmir. He had received a medical discharge after he had ejected from his Mig-21 over Kashmir. He had been targeted by an anti-aircraft missile and in the process of evading the missile, he had attempted to release chaff, unfortunately the ordinance exploded inside the dispenser. This resulted in the rapid disintegration of the ass end of his aircraft. He managed to eject an instant before the missile hit but he took a piece of shrapnel which resulted in the removal of his left kidney and a portion of his small intestine. He had not fully recovered from his injuries when Hugh met him. He was working as a part-time mechanic at the Hyderabad airport where Hugh was rebuilding the DC 3. Hugh had taken and instant liking to him and hired him on the spot. Turns out, he was a damn good mechanic and was an outstanding pilot. He also found that he was fluent in seven languages, had studied at Oxford before quitting and joining the Indian Air Force and was a lousy poker player. His real name was Mohar Prabhakar (which means "charming source of luster" or something like that) but went by the name Moe. He had earned the name Moe during his days at Oxford, not because of his first name but because of a particularly bad haircut he had once received which left him looking like a member of the Three Stooges.
The Dakota was the second aircraft to bear the name Hugh Freight Ease on its nose. The first was a C-119 Flying Box Car that ended up in the scrap heap after a nasty belly landing a few years ago. He had learned from his mistakes on his first aircraft and didn't cut any corners this time. Sure, sometimes you had to make do with what you had available on a 50+ yr. old airplane, but you do your best to keep it has mechanically sound as possible. That's why he knew the aircraft as well or better than the people who built her did. Fortunately, there were still quite a few DC-3s still flying and parts are easier to get than the old Boxcar.
That's what was keeping him awake. He realized there were something wrong with the sound of the number two engine. It had taken a while for the wrongness of its sound to penetrate the fog of exhaustion. He was fully awake now and he pulled himself out of the nest he had made out of some suitcases and duffel bags in the cargo compartment. He made his way toward the cockpit easing himself around the strapped in camera equipment. He was crawling his way over a crate of canned asparagus when he heard Moe call him over the intercom with his slightly stilted English, " Hugh, wake-up and get your lily white ass up here. Houston, we have a problem!" Hugh felt like strangling Tom Hanks every time someone used that tired old joke.
About that time, Hugh noticed a change in the sound and felt an unusual vibration coming up the through the deck plates. He scrambled his way into the cockpit seconds later. The first thing he did was to make a quick scan of the instruments. He didn't find anything unusual there so he took a look out of the cockpit window at the number two engine. He noticed a white stream of smoke coming from beneath the engine cowling. He then looked back at the engine instruments a little closer and still couldn't see anything wrong. Engine temperature was good, manifold pressure was dead on, fuel pressure was good, rpm was in the green, oil pressure was good... hold on a minute. He reached up and tapped the manifold pressure gauge with his knuckle and the needle shot well into the red. "Jesus!" he yelled, " Moe, kill and feather the starboard engine. I think we are about to throw a piston."
Moe glanced nervously at the engine, then proceeded to cut off the engine and feather the propeller blades. They had to get the propellers to stop turning before the engine came apart. While he was doing that, Hugh wedged himself into the pilot's seat. He strapped himself in and slipped his headphones on. He reached down between his legs to retrieve his clipboard that had a copy of the navigational chart and flight plan. That's when it happened. The engine exploded, causing the aircraft to veer sharply and shutter violently. This caused Hugh to smack his forehead against the yoke and brought a flurry of stars into his vision. It stunned him for a few seconds. He noticed a whistling noise coming from somewhere behind him. Once his vision began to clear up, he looked around to see what had happened. He saw Moe with his hands limply at his sides staring out of the cockpit window, his mouth moving as if he were trying to say something but no sound could be heard. "Damn it Moe, are you all right?" He grabbed the yoke and tried to gain control of the aircraft. He fought the controls until he finally got it where the plane was somewhat under control and not falling like a stone. He looked over at Moe again and saw that he was still staring out the window, his brown face oddly serene. "Hey Moe, what are you looking at? That was one hell of a bang back there, looks like we blew off one of the jugs... that's going to set us back a bit, hopefully Gunther's check will cover the damage."
Hugh reached over and shook Moe's shoulder. By doing that, it allowed Moe's head to fall forward revealing the 6 in. piece of valve stem sticking out of the back of Moe's head. It had been pinning his head to the back of the chair. He was amazed to find there wasn't a drop of blood anywhere. The world sort of tuned itself out and all he could do was stare at the polished chrome valve stem sticking out of his friend's skull. There was only the shining reflection of the chrome marred only by an orange flicker of light. Orange light?
It was the reflected light of the flames engulfing the number two engine that woke Houston from his initial shock. Some primitive part of his brain kicked in and screamed "fire". That was when he noticed the fire alarms going off. That brought him back to the here and now and he went back to the business of saving his sorry hide. He reached up and pulled the extinguishers that were designed to put out the flames of an engine fire. There was a billowing of white smoke that obscured the number two engine nacelle for a few seconds and then nothing. The fire was out, thank god.
A DC-3 will fly on one engine, just not very well. A heavily loaded DC-3 like his will not fly hardly at all. He had the remaining engine revved up to full throttle and leaned out as much as he dared. As it stood, he was holding altitude but just barely. He was flying at about 1500 ft above dense green jungle without any sign of civilization. Just great, he thought. He tried the radio and managed to get a mayday call to the Gauhati tower but was at a loss when they asked his location. Best he could figure he was somewhere near the Khasi Hills near the Bangladesh border. He gave them his current altitude and heading and a rough guess as to his position. He was too low to show up on their radar. He lost contact with them a few minutes later when he dropped below the horizon. He was in trouble and it wasn't obvious at first. Although the altimeter was setting dead on 1500 ft, the ground was rising to meet him. He estimated his actual altitude at about 700-ft. He was running out of sky in a hurry. He tried to make a slow banking turn but he lost even more altitude.
He was running out of options fast. He tried looking for someplace to put her down and wasn't finding any. Sweat was pouring down his forehead and down the back of his neck. He could see the tops of individual trees by now and his passage was scaring up flights of birds from their roosts. Nothing but trees. He had to find somewhere to land, anywhere but in the treetops. He dumped his fuel, what was left of it anyway. It lightened the aircraft some and made it a bit easier to fly, but it wasn't enough. He delayed the inevitable for as long as he could, searching for somewhere to land. Far too soon the number one engine started to sputter from lack of fuel. "That's it then," he thought as he feathered the remaining engine and he was struck by the sudden silence. He dropped his flaps a few degrees to try to prevent a stall as he tried to settle the aircraft as gently as he could into the treetops. Once he was just a few feet above the trees, he dropped his flaps and pulled hard back on the control yoke. This produced a stall, which effectively bled off his forward motion and caused the plane to nose up and settle into the top of a large tree. The sounds of the branches against the fuselage were like a thousand fingernails being scraped across a huge blackboard. Soon the plane stopped falling and came to rest a hundred feet in the air, tangled in the branches of a rainforest giant.
A blizzard of leaves were falling outside the plane and the voices of hundreds of terrified birds, monkeys and other animals screamed and squawked in terror. The sound caught the attention of something large and hungry in the forest and it came looking for an easy meal. It licked its fangs in anticipation of a meal of bloody meat.
Another heard the sound and was attracted to it as well, but motivated more by curiosity than hunger. It licked its massive fangs in anticipation of something new in this never changing forest. Its eyes burning brightly, it padded silently toward the disturbance as well.

End Part One
David White a.k.a. Kathmandu
October 3, 1999

The Tigress and Hugh Freight-EZ

Part two.

Hugh pulled his arms down from in front of his face,' I can't believe I'm still alive,' he thought to himself as he looked around. 'I can't believe I pulled that off,' he added for good measure. He looked out the cockpit windows seeing only leaves and a few branches here and there mixed with the falling leaves that his fall into the trees produced. The plane was still swaying prodigiously in the branches of the forest giant. He could feel more than hear the smaller branches cracking and popping as the weight of the aircraft settled into the top of the tree.

Fearing the possibility of the aircraft falling out of the tree, Hugh remained strapped in while he tried to look up through the clear astrodome mounted in the cockpit's overhead. He could barely make out the fact that the plane had come to rest below the canopy of leaves and probably would not be visible from the air. Just fabulous he thought.

Soon the swaying of the branches began to ease a bit and the sound of breaking branches was not quite as deafening as it was a few minutes ago. He might survive this yet, he thought himself as he eased himself over to the left side of the windshield and tried to look down to gauge how far off the ground he was. He couldn't really tell from where he was sitting but he could guess it was a long way down. At that point he decided the best thing to do would be to sit tight for a while to make sure the airplane wasn't going to continue falling.

A few minutes later, the swaying almost completely stopped and the falling leaves were replaced by myriad varieties of winged insects. God, I hate bugs, he thought as he watched thousands or perhaps millions of insects buzzing around the airplane angry at the disturbance. That's about the time he noticed the clinging dampness of his flight suit's crotch, the result of him voiding his bladder on the way in. He chuckled to himself; it wasn't the first time he'd done that crash-landing an aircraft.

He looked over at his dead copilot slumped in his seat, straining against the seat belts. The valve stem had buried itself further into Moe's skull as a result of the violent landing. Hugh felt nauseous looking at his dead friend so he looked away. He pulled out the chart he had been looking at before the crash and tried to figure out where he was. After a few minutes Hugh realized he had landed in a remote hidden valley surrounded by mountains called Shiva's Eye. There were no settlements nearby nor were there any roads. The nearest villages were over the mountains and could be anywhere from 10 to 30 miles away depending on where in the valley he was. That included a lot of tiger infested jungle. Joy.

That motivated him to try the radio. It was dead until he switched to the emergency power bus. It came to life then, filling the cabin with static. He tried several frequencies trying to raise anyone with his mayday calls. Due to the surrounding mountains, the signal was blocked. He quit after a while, shutting the power off after he smelled something electrical getting hot. Fire would be a bad thing in the top of a tree.

And it was a bad thing too. The burning insulation smell didn't stop when he killed the power. Smoke began to drift out from behind the instrument panel. This worried Hugh, it worried him a lot. He reached for the fire extinguisher behind him as he unfastened his seat belt. Or at least that was what he started to do just before the nose section of the aircraft snapped off cleanly like a condemned man's head after meeting Dr. Guillotine’s invention. Hugh could do nothing but watch as the cockpit fell away from the fuselage. He was weightless as the nose section fell away. "Oh shit," he said rather calmly as the fuselage recede away. He wondered how bad dying would hurt.

He had the presence of mind to pull himself to the back of the pilots seat and grabbed the seat belts. They wouldn't buckle so he tied them around his waist as he pressed his back against the seat. He then willed his body to go limp just as it struck a branch and slowed then tumbled as it struck another. His body was alternately stretched then twisted as the hull careened through the branches. He couldn't help but think of the Pachinko machines he had seen while he was in Japan a few years ago. He lost consciousness when a limb punctured the aluminum skin of the cockpit and punctured his lung. It was good in a way because he didn't feel the impact with the ground and the shattering of five vertebrae or the second and third degree burns on his back and hands.

Hugh hurt badly, the pain was indescribable. He opened his eyes and saw orange flame curling around the burned stub of his left hand. He screamed, or tried to as his punctured lung limited it to a gurgling moan, bloody froth spilled from his mouth. That's when he felt something grab him by the right arm and drag him from the wreckage. The jarring caused such pain that Hugh passed out.

A short while later, Hugh regained consciousness in a sea of pain once again. He was lying on his back and all he could see was the dark green canopy above him. He felt a presents somewhere near him, probably his rescuer. He looked to the side and watched as the wreckage smoldered a few yards away. He heard a rustling to the right and turned his head. If he had anything left he would have voided his bladder again as he watched the tiger sitting near him quietly eating. It was making a mess as it tore into Moe with abandon. Blood covered it's muzzle as it cracked the ribs like match sticks. Hugh looked in horror then tried to move but found his legs wouldn't work and his arms were clumsy, he couldn't do much more than writhe on the ground. The tiger looked up for a second then went back to eating. Presently, a second tiger appeared and walked up to Hugh, watching him with glittering eyes. Hugh now knew how a mouse felt and did his best not to slip back into unconsciousness. The second tiger seemed to be a bit smaller than the first. It looked at him for a while as he tried vainly to get away then seemed to come to some sort of decision then grabbed him by the leg and started dragging him into the jungle. Hugh prayed it would be over quick. His terror finally overcame him and he passed out.

Hugh awoke a few hours later to find himself in some sort of cave. Light filtered through a tangle of vines covering the entrance. He looked wildly around for the tigers he remembered suddenly, fear returning full force. He seemed to be alone in the cave thankfully. He looked at himself as best he could. His left arm was ruined and charred. The skin was sloughing off in places. He looked at his right and found it swollen but functional. He propped himself up a bit and looked at the rest of himself. His chest was burned in places, his shirt almost completely burned away. The wound in his chest caused by the limb had been cauterized by the burns, probably saving his life. For a little while at least. His legs looked fine but he couldn't move them, paralyzed by some injury. He was in terrible pain that threatened to overwhelm him any second but he had to know.

He was a dead man no matter how he looked at it. The tiger was just quicker. He would starve or die of thirst if the infections in his wounds didn't kill him right off or the blood in his lungs didn't drown him first. Hell, being eaten sounded down right pleasant compared to the alternatives. Calmness washed over him as he realized he was not going to leave the valley. Accepting his fate, Hugh hoped the tiger wasn't planning on letting him ripen much more before turning him into lunch. He lay back and relaxed, waiting for the inevitable. Relaxing as he did eased the pain some and allowed him to sleep.

He awoke again, feeling dizzy and disorientated, his body feverish. He heard something move in the cave and his heart started racing. The tiger was back. He could smell it's musky cat odor above the smell of burned flesh and cloth mixed with blood. The cave was dark and the sky outside glowed with either dusk or dawn, no way for him to tell. He felt the tiger approach and looked frantically for it in the gloom. He saw it's eyes glittering right next to him, looking at him quietly. Hugh closed his eyes and steeled himself for the end he was expecting, wondering how it could possibly hurt much more than he did now. He waited. And he waited some more. "Please get it over with," was all he could think of.

After a while Hugh chanced a peek and found the big cat was still looking at him. He closed his eyes again and tilted his head back hoping the kitty would get the hint. No such luck. Now, the human mind is a complicated and sometimes unfathomable thing. Add a great deal of pain, the prospect of dying in a variety of very ugly ways and a high fever to top it all off and you are likely to find it will develop some very weird logic. Hugh was no exception. He kept waiting for the tiger to kill him and when it didn't, he got angry. At first he began yelling at the tiger for it to kill him.

"Come on you big dummy, kill me," he yelled. The tiger just looked at him. He stretched his neck out again, "Hey Morris, din din!" The tiger tilted its head a little, probably in amusement. "Damn it, you stupid cat, you know you want to. Please, you have to, I can't stand this much longer!" He propped himself as best he could on his bad left arm and began hitting the tiger with his right. The blows were like a kitten batting a bowling ball as weak as Hugh was. "What's wrong with you, fucking pussy!" He grabbed a hand full of fur and tried to pull the tiger to him. At that point, Hugh started coughing. A foamy mixture of fluids and blood began dribbling from his mouth and nose. The pain was a burning fire in his chest and the punctured lung began sucking through the reopened wound. He sagged against the animal, his remaining strength seeping into the ground and onto the tiger's fur.

The tiger reacted by opening its mouth and encircling his head, its fangs lightly touching his scalp. It gently laid Hue's head back down on the ground. Hugh could do nothing but continue coughing, struggling for breath, not even realizing his face was covered by the tiger's huge maw. It didn't really matter since he was choking and drowning in his own blood. He passed into oblivion as his breathing turned into a horrible gurgling sound then stopped. His last thought was the idea of becoming a tiger turd.

The tiger became rather animated at that point, its tail thrashing wildly as it paced back and fourth next to Hugh. It then growled fiercely as his breathing stopped. It then looked at Hugh for a time then lunged at him, taking his shoulder into its mouth and bit down. Its fangs punctured the skin but no further. It then began licking the wound rather gently, tasting a light trickle of blood. Having made the decision, good or ill, the tiger padded out of the cave and into the night.

Hugh suddenly started breathing again, the gurgling was still there but it was diminishing with each breath. Soon he was breathing normally again. The virus was doing damage control, making sure it has a living host because a dead host was a dead virus. It was such a rare occurrence to be able to expand into a new host, the opportunity would not be lost. It had a lot of work to do, and it would take time but it's collective consciousness knew this was a good, worthy host.

Hugh awoke feeling better, a great deal better in fact. He opened his eyes and found himself still in the tiger's den. He closed his eyes again and cursed. He supposed keeping him alive was better than refrigeration. It was daylight outside, no telling how long he had been out. He looked down at his chest and was surprised to find raw pink flesh glistening with viscous fluids. Sounds bad but it was a remarkable improvement over the charred, burned tissues that were there yesterday. He looked at his left arm and found the stump was bright pink and clean as well. His legs still refused to respond though. What surprised him most was the absence of pain. He was laying flat on his back in the dirt and didn't really feel uncomfortable even. He did notice dirt was covering his wounds where they contacted the ground mixing with the fluids making a disgusting crust. Not that he could do anything about it anyway. It was a wonder he wasn't a seething puddle of puss by now or a corpse.

As he lay there, time passed slowly. He dozed off an on during the day. He awoke to a really awful smell toward dusk and realized he had soiled himself. Oh yuck. He tried to move but he really couldn't do much. He idly wondered if the smell had run off the tiger. He would flee too if he could. Oddly, there were no flies.

About that time, the tiger entered the cave. Hugh just looked at it, marveling at its fierce beauty. The tiger walked over to him and he could tell the big cat was not pleased, probably with the smell. He wasn't happy either, welcome to the club. The tiger growled and approached him. Hugh didn't really feel frightened as it approached, more apprehensive than afraid. He figured the cat would have killed him at anytime if it wanted to so he figured it had other plans. He wasn't going anywhere and he was at this crazy cat's mercy anyway. He became rather afraid though when the orange monster buried its muzzle into his groin and then pulled. His pants ripped away easily leaving him exposed to the world. He was doing ok until he was stripped naked. Getting eaten didn't bother him near as much as being naked in front of this killing machine. Silly but true.

The tiger promptly left the cave with the tattered remnants of his clothing, probably to bury them. Not that it was a bad idea, he just hope the cat didn't decide to bury him too as bad as he smelled. He tried to move but found he was still paralyzed except for his neck up. The big cat reentered the cave again and walked over to Hugh. He watched as the cat approached and said, "Hey, sorry about that. Not like I could do anything about it." The tiger just sort of huffed then grabbed him by the foot and drug him out of the cave. At that point Hugh started cussing and swearing as his head bumped along the soft dirt of the cave. Presently he was outside the cave and being dragged along a worn path. Before long he heard the sound of splashing water and the saw a small waterfall running down the side of the cliff not too far from the entrance to the cave. He noticed the path was behind the falling water. The cat stopped and looked down the side of the cliff, then like a child tossing a rag doll, the tiger threw Hugh over the side of the cliff. He really wished the cat had a better appetite about that time. He sailed off into the air helpless to do anything but scream. The water from the falls hit him and caused his body to spin slightly and as he did, he could see a pool of crystal clear water beneath him perhaps twenty feet below.

He yelled on his way down, "You stupid cat, I can't move. I'm going to drown....!" He hit the water feet first and plunged like an arrow to the bottom. He collided with the fine gravel at the bottom of the pool rather abruptly. He looked around frantically for anything to save him but there was nothing but a few small fish. He bounced along the bottom a bit then just floated a couple of feet off the gravel bottom, utterly helpless. "Now that's a hell of a note," Hugh thought as he hovered there. With the damaged lung and the other injuries he figured he wouldn't be able to hold his breath more than a few seconds if at all. He tried to move anything at all but he was still very paralyzed.

What really surprised him was the fact he didn't feel uncomfortable at all. Even after two minutes, his lungs felt just fine. After five minutes he felt a little light headed but no big deal, he also felt something strange happening in his chest. It felt like tearing or pulling. No pain really, just felt weird. Soon after he felt the need to cough. He held off as long as he could but his body overpowered his will and he coughed, expelling all the air in his lungs in huge bubbles. Soon there was nothing left to cough up and his body was forcing him to breathe in. His eyes were wide as he realized this was it, he could fight no longer. He breathed in the cool river water and prepared for the end. He exhaled and a few bubbles escaped his mouth as the water passed out and then he breathed in again. He continued breathing and felt... just fine. His flooded lungs seemed to be working although it felt wierd to say the least. With the last of his air went his buoyancy and he settled on the bottom looking at the surface.

One of the benefits of being in this situation is the time to think. The explanation was simple, that goddamn tiger had done something to him. That was no ordinary tiger, which was obvious from the start. The animal has gone to a lot of trouble to save his sorry butt just to let him drown so it knew this would happen. That is awful smart for an animal. That is when he remembered an old Hindu superstition about weretigers and then remembered the cat biting him as he felt himself dying in the cave. Oh shit! My god, I'm a monster. Images of the larger tiger eating Moe's body began flashing before his eyes. He refused to believe he was somehow turned into a shape-shifting monster that would go around killing people. It wasn't possible, but then he was breathing water at the bottom of a pond and that wasn't possible either. "Why the hell didn't I die in the crash?"

He heard a splash and looked to his right and saw the tiger swimming toward him. Again he tried to move anything at all but he was at the mercy of the tiger once again. The tiger grabbed a foot in it's mouth and swam for the surface. Hugh tilted his head and watched as the tiger swam with powerful strokes toward the shore. It's tail kept swatting him in the face. Soon Hugh felt the ever so familiar feeling of his head bouncing across the ground once they reached the shore of the pond. As the tiger pulled him out of the water, Hugh couldn't help but notice the cat was female. Didn't change anything, he still felt like beating the crap out the sadistic tiger bitch. The tigress drug him over to a large rock in the shade not too far from the water. She set his foot down gently then turned and watched Hugh expel the water from his lungs and return to breathing air. As soon as he could, Hugh started screaming profanities at the cat. "What the hell are you, damn it? I know you can
understand me bitch, what the fuck have you done to me? You turned me into some sort of monster like yourself didn't you. Am I going to start killing children when the moon is full? Goddamn it, why didn't you let me die?" The tigress lowered her head some then turned and left, her tail almost between her legs. The tigress disappeared into the jungle.

Hugh was rather surprised by the big cat's reaction. He couldn't believe he had hurt the hulking carnivore’s feelings. It did confirm his suspicions that she understood what he was saying and that there was something unearthly about that tiger. Well duh. For some reason he felt bad about what he had said, coming to the conclusion that the tigress was trying to help him the best way it could. He also realized she had left him alone and naked in a jungle with at least one other tiger who has a taste for long pork and all he could do was spit at it and give it dirty looks.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I am grateful you saved me. Please come back. I..." he stopped and stared at what appeared out of the jungle where the cat had just left. There, standing upright was a woman. Well, sort of a woman. It was, in fact, a cross between a woman and a tiger really. She had the body of a human covered in tiger fur and a tiger's head with long orange and black hair. She also sported a tail and had retractable claws on both her feet and hands. She wasn't wearing any clothes but the fur hid everything just as effectively although Hugh noticed she was very muscular and graceful. She was rather shapely in fact and she had a pair of small but firm breasts. The total package, although frightening, was not unattractive.

It was also quite obvious she had been crying and still was. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said between sniffles, "I know this is all rather fantastic but you are not turning into a monster although I am one." She spoke with a surprisingly refined English accent. "I am not normally moved to such emotion, but your words stung."

"I...I'm sorry...I..." Hugh stammered, not really believing this creature was speaking to him.

"No need to apologize since you have no idea of what is happening to you. First off, my name is Sandra Hewlett and I am not some sort of magical monster who steals children in the night, nor am I a were-beast out to kill under a full moon. I am no longer human in form, but I am no savage killer. As for yourself, you were very badly injured and dying. I saved your life and started your healing. The paralysis is temporary and should be gone in a couple of days and you should have a hand again before it is done. The pain would be far too much to endure as the changes are made to your body in addition to healing." She looked into my eyes and said, "I took a terrible chance saving you, and it was against my better judgment in fact."

"Then why? I practically begged you to kill me. Hell, I was a dead man ten ways to Sunday. You just needed to wait a few minutes and I would not have been a problem."

"I don't know really, compassion and loneliness I suppose. It is very hard to let someone die when you have the means to save them. I just couldn't bare the thought of just doing nothing. I couldn't let someone who could strike a wild tiger in the face in hopes it would eat them just expire." She smiled a little at that, "Din Din, Morris?"

"I was crazy with pain and the prospect of slowly dying of infection or starvation sounded a lot worse than ending up in your belly." She cringed a little at that.

"I assure you sir, that was never a possibility. Just the thought sickens me."

"The name is Hugh, Houston Dallas and that is good to know. What about the other tiger, it didn't seem to mind a little human flesh. My god he was eating my friend." The memory made him a little sick himself.

Sandra had a sad expression as she said, "Hugh, the moment your friend died he became meat. He was dead long before your machine crashed and the other tiger was starving. His name is Aladdin and he is a real tiger who is not picky about where the meat comes from. He will not kill a human but will eat one that is freshly dead if he is hungry enough. I'm sorry you saw that, I was hoping you hadn't. I raised Aladdin from a cub and is rather well behaved for a tiger. He wouldn't harm you unless provoked I assure you." She looked around, "He is out there sulking right now. I've run him off until you are better. One tiger is bad enough I would say Mr. Dallas."

"Uh, good idea. Hard for me to move out of his way." Hugh lifted his head up and looked at Sandra, "Ok, tiger lady, what the hell have you done to me? You say you are healing me, fine but that doesn't explain the fact you threw me into this puddle and I just spent ten minutes breathing underwater. What the hell was that all about and why didn't I drown?"

"I must apologies for that, I hadn't intended to leave you in so long but Aladdin put in an appearance and delayed me. I'm afraid I was angry and I took it out on you when I entered the cave and almost gagged from your stench. Not your fault but I was still very angry at a certain thirty stone tiger. It won't happen again. As to why you didn't drown is...well...a long story."

"I'm not going anywhere," Hugh said, somewhat irritated.

"Indeed. Are you aware that there are organisms so small that they are invisible?"

"Yeah, they are called microbes or germs, why?"

"Well, unknown to you perhaps is the existence of even smaller organisms who prey upon these germs and on the very cells of our body."

"Yeah, they are called viruses. Every school kid knows that, I've even seen pictures of them."

"Viruses? Fitting name. They didn't know of their existence when I was in school."

Hugh looked at her with wide eyes, "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know, a long time. What year is it?"

"It's May, 2003. Not sure of the day though."

"Good Lord, I've been here since 1894." She had a lost look to her eyes.

"Well, you look pretty good for a hundred plus. Even with the stripes."

"One hundred and twenty nine to be precise Mr. Dallas. I hadn't realized it had been so long. They have done well preventing my aging. Incredible."

"Who are 'they'? Are they behind my healing and whatever?"

"Yes, 'they' are. They are the Sereph and they are um 'viruses?' I believe. They are intelligent after a fashion and once they establish enough of them in your body, they will communicate with you. I was hoping they would have made their presents known before now but they are more concerned with healing you."

"Intelligent virus? Are they native to earth or are they extraterrestrial? Got to be alien...and you have infected me with an alien virus. Oh God." He flopped his head down on the rock, not even feeling it. "What have you done to me?" Images of the movie "The Andromeda Strain" danced through his head.

"Don't fret so, Mr. Dallas. They are doing their utmost to help you and your continued well-being is their only concern. You see, as long as you live, they live. It is a symbiotic relationship really. You are essentially immortal as long as you are not consumed in fire, the brain is terribly damaged or you are torn to pieces. You cannot be harmed by water or cold, the lack of air will not bother you much either. Wounds will heal almost instantly and diseases are a thing of the past. All they ask for in exchange is your body as host. They are from another world and they are made things, really. The Sereph were used to allow travelers between worlds to survive the journey and the often hostile environs they encountered. They are all that is left of a ship that crashed here a very long time ago. They apparently have no memory of any events before finding themselves hosted by a tiger over 300 years ago. They do have knowledge of who made them and what they are but they say it is a part of them."

"Preprogrammed virus sized nanites used for improved survival in interstellar travel and exploration essentially making me immortal. Ok, I can buy that, especially since my little demonstration at the bottom of the lake there."

"Nanites?" Her head tilted quizzically to the side. "Preprogrammed?"

"Nanites are very tiny machines and the machine's instructions put in by the builders is referred to as a program."

"You understand the concept of ah...nanites? The idea of interstellar travel doesn't seem to be an outlandish notion either? I and the Sereph are somewhat amazed. By the looks of your primitive flying machine, I would have thought such concepts would be totally foreign. Tell me, how do you know of such things?"

"Well, first off my aircraft was ancient and not the leading edge of technology. It was built over sixty years ago and wasn't that advanced then but it was very safe, easy to maintain and dependable. We went to the moon over thirty years ago, sent probes to all the planets and we have a space station in orbit around the earth. We have machines that use controlled atomic fission for power and we have hydrogen fusion weapons. We have machines that can perform billions of calculations per second that can fit in your hand, hundreds of trillions that fit in a room and I can talk to almost anyone in the world instantly. Did you ever see a telephone?"

"Yes, they had one in the consulate back in London, I even had the opportunity to speak to my father who was across town on it. Quite a novelty."

"With a satellite phone, I can talk to anyone in the world who has a phone from anywhere in the world. There is one in the wreckage, maybe it survived."

"It seems the Sereph are surprised to learn of the hydrogen fusion weapons. They ask if they have been used in warfare?"

"No, they have only tested a few of them. They did use two nuclear fission weapons in the same war where my aircraft was built. 1945 in fact, it ended the second world war."

She sat back a bit and looked sort of dazed. She noticed I was looking at her and said, "Sorry, the Sereph were explaining some of the concepts you described to me. They cannot seem to believe the notion that humans have gone from the relatively backward and unsophisticated technology of my time to space flight and hydrogen weapons in less than 100 years."

"Oh yeah? How long did it take the Sereph?"

"The Sereph didn't, they are made things but their makers took almost a thousand years from steam to space, they never built hydrogen weapons but they could have."

"Why not?"

"They didn't hate anyone that badly."

"Oh..."

"Is there nanite technology in use now?"

"As far as I know, the technology is a bit out of our reach now but science is working on it. They have managed to make some darned small machines but not to the scale of the Sereph." Hugh laid his head back and looked up into the green canopy above. "I understand what is happening to me a little but what about you? What's with the tiger bit?"

"The Sereph are nothing as individuals, just cogs in a larger machine. They won't reproduce on their own with a population under a million or so. They speculate that somehow a concentration of them was sprayed over a large area, probably vaporized in the crash. They were picked up in the local eco system and became just a harmless virus in their host. Their concentrations began to increase as the hosts were eaten by creatures higher on the food chain that in turn became hosts themselves. Eventually concentrations became high enough at the top of the food chain that they became sentient again. Unfortunately tigers are not the best hosts and they were not thrilled with the prospect of being hosted by the savage creatures. They also knew the danger of creating a smarter, immortal tiger so they did not interfere with the tiger's lives. They passed themselves from generation to generation until they came across their first human, me.

My father and I were traveling to Burma from Gwahati, India. My father had been appointed to the British consulate in Myitkyina, Burma. Our train was attacked by a band of muslim separatists and my father and I were kidnapped and forced into the jungle. They held us for ransom in order to get one of their leaders out of prison. They received a reply message from the consulate a couple of weeks later. Unfortunately for us, the worthy had died in prison a month before. They did unspeakable things to me and my father after they found out. They beat and tortured my father until he died then they had their way with me, tortured me horribly then left me in the jungle to die.

A while later, as I lay bleeding in the jungle, a Sereph host tiger came by looking for an easy meal. Since they were not actively involved in the tiger's life much, it took a while for them to exert their control and stop the tiger. It managed to maul me horribly and came close to killing me before they could stop it. They transferred a population to my body and did much the same thing to me as they are doing to you. They saved my life and put me back together as best they could. They only knew tiger biology so they sort of melded the human with the tiger. They said it was temporary until they learned my body and could return me to myself. It took them a while to learn my ladder."

Hugh looked at her with a blank expression, "Your what?"

"Ladder, I cannot pronounce the Sereph term but it looks like a twisted ladder. It is the code which all life is based."

"Ah, DNA or deoxyribonucleic acid. They had to learn human DNA well enough to put you back together so they left you a tiger until then?"

"Well, basically like you see me now, a combination of the two. It worked well and I became used to my form as I learned more and more about the Sereph. Later, when they said they could change me back, I told them to leave me as I was. They then told me they could transform me into either a full tiger, a full human or what I am now. I can change at will but it takes me a very long time to change from one full form to the other but I can do the combination to tiger and back quickly just from practice. The fully human form is a bit difficult since I haven't performed it very often. Rather pointless out here and leaves me rather vulnerable."

"So what have you been doing for the last 120 years? Surly living in the jungle would have become extremely boring after the first dozen years or so, especially alone."

"I haven't been awake that long Mr. Dallas. As I said, it took the Sereph a long time to learn my ladder, or DNA, but it also took a long time to change my body. I have been awake for perhaps twenty-five or so years. Also, I am never alone; I have the Sereph with me at all times. They have shown me things, other worlds and fantastic machines. They are used as teachers and companions for their hosts as well as tools for survival."

"Is it going to take that long for me?"

"No, it shouldn't take more than a day or so longer. Your DNA is not that much different than mine and they are used to working with the human body now. The ability to change shape could take much longer but you really don't need the ability. Your Sereph will discuss it with you once there are enough of them in your body."