BY GRAY WINSLER Unforgivable. That’s what she had said. Her own mother. How could she? I saved her. Shut up, Liwen thought, chastising herself. This was not the time. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on the world around her. You cannot drift in the jungle. Its forest of entangled mirrors, life crawling upon life. If you let yourself drift, you will lose the day trying to find your way back to where you have already been. If you make it back at all. Capo mrrrped from a branch high above. Liwen tried not to anthropomorphize life in the jungle. It was a game of survival. Instinct. There was no right or wrong — no scorn or guilt or condemnation. Only life, and death. But she had known Capo too long to not feel the judgment in her gaze, reminding her to keep her focus. She felt cats had perfected the glare of disappointment. “Are you sure this is the way back?” one of the members of her group asked. Tourists. Always afraid, Liwen thought. Fear can lead you to pick up on subtle cues, a moment’s hesitation that can betray indecision, a lack of confidence. She was their guide in the jungle. They looked to her as a light in the darkness. If she flickered for a moment, their stomachs would lurch with apprehension. They came here claiming they wanted adventure. But Liwen knew they wanted the adventure they see in movies. Scripted. Choreographed. Planned. And she knew as well as anyone that the jungle does not care about such plans. She turned and smiled, shouting to the group, “Just another half hour! I hope you’re working up an appetite — we’ve got a big feast planned for you tonight.” Unforgivable. Her mother’s words returned, echoing in her mind as they had for years. Liwen shook the thought away once again and followed Capo’s lead as she leapt from branch to branch overhead. She wondered what she would do without her feline companion. Would she have made it this far? Or would she have drifted too far from the river one day, lost herself in the jungle, and slowly starved until her flesh was eaten away by ants and beetles and worms? Would Mom miss me then? This was the real reason oncillas were sacred to her people. The elders might tell stories of how oncillas were the spirit animals of the Earth, physical manifestations of the Great Spirit that guides all life. But Liwen knew better. Oncillas were sacred because without their feline companions, her people would be as aimless as a compass on the North Pole. Together, Liwen and Capo led their group back to XPLOR’s basecamp. The camp was made up of a collection of million dollar tree houses, suspended in the air like giant ornaments on a Christmas tree. They were complete with all of the modern amenities — air conditioning, Wi-Fi, VR. Her people thought these luxuries did not belong in the jungle. They thought they were abominations, given to man by wretched spirits who wished to enslave mankind. Liwen had believed this for a time, but her opinions began to change when she discovered soft serve ice cream. She preferred ice cream to water after a long day in the jungle. After guiding her guests to the main dining hall, she and Capo found their way to the staff kitchen. She made her companion a plate of fresh fish and thanked her for her assistance, then levered herself a mugful of ice cream. “I’ve never seen someone eat ice cream quite like you,” Matthew said, appearing in the entryway behind her. “Thank you. It’s one of my many talents,” Liwen winked. He laughed uncomfortably. Matthew was a biologist at XPLOR. He was also a full-blown nerd, which Liwen found endearing. Choices of companions in the remote jungle were slim, but she enjoyed his company. Later that night they found themselves lying in bed together, bodies slick with sweat, practically sticking to each other as they stared absently at the fan above. “What do you have against A/C again?” Matthew asked. Liwen shrugged. “Old habits.” “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he sat up in bed to face her, “do you like your job?” “You want me to be honest?” she traced her hand along his arm. “Please.” “I love it.” “Really?” “Of course. I get paid to share my home with people. What’s not to love?” “I don’t know … I guess I just assumed there was something weird about serving outsiders.” “I don’t serve anyone.” “Of course, that’s not what I meant— ” Liwen smiled at him, bemused. “It is easy to make you squirm.” “Oh. Ha, ha.” “There are assholes, sure. The know-it-alls are the worst. The ones who think they know what they’re doing because they’ve led some Boy Scouts down a paved hiking trail in Indiana. They’re the dangerous ones, the ones you need to keep an eye on lest they drift into the jungle never to be seen again.” “Has that happened? Have you lost people?” “Me? No. But I’ve heard stories.” “I can’t tell if you’re just fucking with me.” Unforgivable. I don’t ever want to see you again. Her mothers words a constant intrusion, ordering her thoughts in a new direction like cordyceps ordering an asant to water, threatening to drown her. She saw her mother’s face in her mind’s eye. The contempt. The disdain. Their last moment together was like a nightmarish GIF on loop in her head. I saved you! She screamed inside at the pulsating image of her mother. Was she screaming? Or was she pleading? Begging her to understand? She had done what she had to — she must know that? “Liwen?” Matthew asked gently. “Hm? Sorry. Did you say something?” “Where do you go?” “Doesn’t matter,” getting out of bed she went to the railing, beyond which was the infinite jungle, screaming with life. A nightly orgy and massacre led by millions of organisms, some still to be discovered. He joined her, rubbing her back softly. The touch warmed her. She liked 21
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