After the scene in the cargo hold, Nairobi and I no longer argued. In fact, we got along exceptionally well. For the next few days, I carefully went about the plane, collecting all traces of my research. In cleaning the plane (the first time it had been cleaned since the 1970's), I found the suitcase I had brought with me on the flight. It was still sealed, and the lock was jammed, so I was forced to break it. When I saw the contents of the suitcase, my heart stopped for a moment.

Inside the suitcase, albeit a bit mixed up, were all of the things I had planned to bring with me to China. There were photos of Samantha and myself, a blank journal, my government ID card, and a broken two-way radio. One thing in particular really got my attention: There was a slightly wrinkled black leather jacket below all of the other items. Oh joy! I could finally wear something other than the tattered, stained lab coat which I had been stuck with since the crash. After all, it was indeed unusual for a giant fox to wear a lab coat. In fact, I probably looked like I had eaten a scientist and stolen his clothes (a misunderstanding I did not want to encounter). Under the jacket, I found a neatly folded pair of pants (Alas, irony!). I put on the jacket, carefully packed away the other items into my warped suitcase, and turned my attention to the journal. It was exactly what I needed. For the next week, I worked day and night carefully copying the whole of my research into the journal. At the end of the week, I started a bonfire on the beach and let all of the stray papers burn. Nairobi and I even sang a few rounds of “Kumbaya” over it. The only existing copy of my research was now in the journal which I kept tucked away inside my jacket. I was determined that my research would never fall into the wrong hands again.

One evening, about two weeks after I had explained my predicament to Nairobi, he showed up at the plane again.

“So, Doc... I've been wondering... How exactly do you plan to get away from this place?” He asked. This caught me by surprise.
“You'll see...” I replied, smugly. It struck me that in my enthusiasm, I had carefully prepared to leave the island but I hadn't given a thought as to how. Nairobi called my bluff.
“You have no idea, do you?” He said.
“Not a one, old friend.” I replied, smiling at him. He looked discouraged.
“CAN you get away?” He asked.
“Follow me.” I said.

I proceeded to walk out of the plane and head toward the beach. It was low tide so I walked about 100 feet out and stood on the sandbar. The sun was setting and it cast an orange light on the ground. After a few moments, Nairobi finally caught up with me.

“You see, all I have to do is travel in that direction.” I said. “Yup... probably 2000 to 3000 miles...” I pointed at the horizon and Nairobi looked astonished.
“But you don't have a plane... or... or a boat... or ANYTHING!” He said.
I smiled and replied “Not yet.”
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“Be patient.” I said.

We stood and stared at the horizon for a while and Nairobi finally walked off, probably to get some sleep. I remained for hours. How was I going to get away? Looking back at the island, I was beginning to feel imprisoned, wondering if perhaps the price of peace was this stagnation. I stared into the distance and pondered my situation. It was definitely impossible to build a plane or a boat from materials on the island and a raft simply wouldn't cut it because of the huge distance I needed to cross. Additionally, the plane had been in the middle of the Pacific when it crashed and my location must have indeed been remote since I had never seen so much as a plane on the horizon. I felt totally alone.

Later in the evening, I had an epiphany. I decided that my only chance of escape would be to try and contact someone. I remembered the broken two-way radio from my suitcase but quickly realized it would need to be about 100 times stronger to have a chance of reaching anyone. For a moment, I felt hopeless again. “But hold on”, I thought. Perhaps there could still be hope. After all, I did have a lot of equipment still strewn about the plane and something was bound to contain the necessary components... I stopped in mid-thought when I began to feel strange. It was becoming increasingly difficult to move my tail. I looked down and noticed that my tail was swishing back and forth under about six inches of water. I had been sitting on the sandbar for so long that the tide was beginning to rise. When I looked back toward the shore, I cursed under my breath. The tide HAD risen and I was standing on a tiny patch of sand, 100 feet from the beach. On that night, in the near-darkness, I learned that it is very difficult to swim as a foxtaur. After some time, I finally made it back to the beach, sopping wet, with my journal clutched in my jaws. I shook myself dry and walked off, rather dejectedly, back to my plane. I threw myself on the hard metal floor and nodded off, determined to get an early start the next day.

Something was wrong... Samantha was calling for me. I saw a normal human hand reach out for her but she drew farther and farther away. I screamed for her but no sound came...The scene melted away as I yelled in vain... My surroundings were different now. I was in a harsh-looking corridor. I approached a door and opened it with my clawed hand... There was McKinley, laughing madly. He clutched a red syringe with “19” printed clearly on the side. He looked at me and I froze, unable to move. “You didn't really think you could win Moreau... You stupid animal...” He said, with the taint of malice in his voice. I struggled wildly but couldn't speak. As the scene faded away, all I could see were the deep set wrinkles in McKinley's face and the expression of twisted satisfaction he wore... I reached for the syringe... He was still laughing...

I awoke in a panic, breathing heavily. I realized that I was still on the cold metal floor of the fuselage and the “syringe” I had been clutching was actually my left forepaw. I felt stiff and damp, not exactly prime condition for a fox. Upon collecting myself, I stood up and walked out into the daylight hoping it would dry my fur. I slumped down on the sand and tried to think, pushing the disturbing images out of my mind.

Inside the plane, I had several useful pieces of equipment, including the two-way radio, an oscilloscope, and a set of speakers. There were also many pieces of twisted metal still laying around the island. I began to consider the notion of trying to repair the radio and somehow connect it to a makeshift antenna. I could even use my cracked solar panels to power the rig. “Yes”, I thought. It could indeed be functional. Just as I considered getting up to go find some of the parts for my radio, I noticed Nairobi approaching from the opposite end of the beach. I sat up and waited for him to arrive.

“Whoa. Doc. You don't look so good...” He said. I paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“Well Nairobi, I didn't have the best time last night...” I replied, still feeling shaky. He looked surprised.
“You mean you had the dream too?” He asked.
“And what dream would that be?” I said.
“The one with Samantha and that nasty man you told me about... It kept me up all night...” He replied. I couldn't bring myself to answer him right away. In fact, I was actually quite unnerved.
“Well... It's OK Doc... Things like this used to happen to Kitsune all the time...” He said, trailing off.
“So... we had the same dream...” I said. “And this is normal?” Nairobi suddenly perked up.
“Were you LISTENING when I told you all about the Kitsune?” He asked.
“Oh, sure... sure... I must have zoned out during that part.” I said.
“You really are just like the ancient Kitsune you know.” He said.
“That's great...” I said. “Too bad I couldn't just flick my tail, part the ocean, and walk to civilization huh?”

Nairobi was glaring at me. He always seemed to get very testy whenever I insulted his legend, albeit I really did think it was ridiculous that I was supposed to be some kind of mythical creature. Of course, after a few moments, I began to feel bad for him. I looked down at my paws and chuckled.

“I guess I really shouldn't be arguing with you huh?” I asked.

Nairobi softened his expression but said nothing. I was beginning to believe that there could be some truth in the legend. After all, he and I did seem to have some kind of unusual connection (perhaps because we shared the same DNA). I felt sad when I realized that I couldn't ask him to leave the island with me. In the most basic sense, I was almost afraid to leave him behind. After being trapped on the island for decades, Nairobi was a part of me. I tried to clear my mind and walked back to the plane. Nairobi followed me inside this time. He curled up and went to sleep on my distorted metal desk while I pored over the broken radio. Surprisingly, it was not in terrible condition. I was able to salvage a few transistors from a piece of the cockpit radio (I found it, half disintegrated in the woods). I used a bent piece of metal and some copper wire to fashion a transformer, which I attached to the solar panel hanging from the fuselage. Later in the day, I crossed my fingers and turned it on. Despite the occasional loud “crack” from the speaker which made me jump, it was working. Every once and a while, Nairobi woke up to ask me how I was doing. I would always start to explain the technical details and he would immediately nod off again. By the end of the day, I had a mess of circuit boards, speakers, and dials spread all over my table. The pile of components made up a very crude, but adjustable, radio. All I had to do was to build an antenna, but it was getting late. I put my head down on Nairobi (yes I actually used him as a pillow, he deserved it) and fell asleep.

I was trapped inside a large cage of some sort. In fact, I felt strange. I looked down at my hands, but they weren't hands at all. They were the ordinary paws of a fox. I walked over and peered into a shallow metal dish in the corner of the cage and recoiled in surprise. I was Nairobi. Just then, I saw the face of Dr. Feng peering at me. He began the monologue I knew so well.

“I don't know if you can understand me, little fox. But I know there is something unique about you. It has come to my knowledge that you are special in many ways, and I have concluded that I mustn't allow the scientific community to abuse you. Your past must forever remain secret. I am a fool of a scientist, for it is not the discovery that I love, it is the thrill of legend. The legend has become part of me and, you see, I can never let it die.”

The man who was speaking to me was Dr. Feng, but he seemed so different. This Feng was far more wrinkled and taxed looking than the one I remembered from the College de Sorbonne. The figure moved away from me, almost out of sight and I could hear angry words exchanged in Japanese. Someone was threatening him. I tried to call out... ...but I was only a fox... Everything went blank...

I woke with a start once more and lifted my head off of Nairobi. He stirred slowly and we both just stared at each other. I spoke first.

“Well, at least you can't blame me for the disturbing dreams anymore... After all, I'm quite confident that one was yours...” I said. He smiled sheepishly.
“I guess so...” He replied, seeming a bit off.
“What's the matter?” I asked.
“I... I just don't like missing out on a good night's sleep...” He said.

Nairobi really didn't look too good, so I decided to let him rest. Once he had passed out on the metal table again, I left the plane in search of parts for my antenna. However, I quickly lost ambition and began to wander about.

I couldn't stop wondering about the Kitsune and Nairobi's mysterious DNA (which I was now using). The algorithm in this DNA was indeed fascinating, although I knew I didn't have the resources on this little island to fully decipher it. As much as I wanted to leave the island, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. I wondered what the world would be like now. How had it changed? One thing was for certain though: If I did return to civilization, in of a nation of 290 million, I would be the only foxtaur... The only one... At the deepest level, I couldn't think of anything more frightening than being one of a kind.

But still, there was another argument boiling inside my head. What did I have to live for on La Isla? The answer was obviously very little. As I picked up what appeared to be a metal coil in the sand, I couldn't help but realize: Even if I did spend my last few years on this island with Nairobi, would I be doing him any favors? Why not risk a trip back to civilization? Perhaps I still had a chance at uncovering the corrupted agency that destroyed my life. “But wait.”, I thought. McKinley's organization didn't really destroy my life... I did. I began to straighten out the coil with my claws. On the bright side, if I did get back to the U.S., I sure wouldn't have any trouble attracting attention... I thought of Feng's words again. “Always truth in the untruth, huh?” I thought. Perhaps there was more to this legend than I thought. In fact, maybe Feng was right (and perhaps he could explain to me exactly what I was). But it all seemed so ridiculous... The chances that I could ever find Feng were quite remote. I didn't even know if he was still alive. In fact, I figured that I probably wouldn't even live long enough to gather the resources I would need to locate him. Little did I know, Nairobi's DNA had done more to me that I had thought. I would come to have a painfully long life in which to find my answer...

I looked down at the coil. It was now VERY straight. After snapping out of my reverie, I decided to get back to the matter at hand. I dragged a piece of sheet metal over to the plane and stood it up (It had been curled into a cone and partially melted in the crash). I continued to build a tower out of scrap metal until it was about 15 feet high. Although I could stand very tall on my hind legs, I had to build the rickety tower in stages. It was very thin and wiry, but it would do. All I needed was a large metal object to pick up stray radio waves. I found a set of (what appeared to be) jumper cables in the cargo hold and ran them from the antenna to my makeshift radio. When I came into the plane once more, holding the giant alligator clips, Nairobi stirred.

“What is that thing?” He said, looking out a crack in the wall at the antenna.
“You'll see...” I said, acting like I was going to put the clips on his whiskers.
“Hey! Not funny!” He said. He sat up and looked at me, but quickly curled up again.

I firmly attached the clips to the radio and sat on my haunches at the desk. Then, I tapped Nairobi on the side. He looked up.

“This is the moment of truth you know. I thought you'd want to be awake for it.” I said. Nairobi sat up and looked interested.

I crossed my fingers (and even my forepaws, just for extra luck) and proceeded to turn on the radio. BANG! It jolted to life, followed by a very unexciting reading on my oscilloscope. I started to turn a dial which I had calibrated to change the frequency, very slowly. There were little “blips” of static here and there, but no sound. Nairobi finally gave up and went to sleep on my desk. I spent the rest of the morning slowly running through the frequencies. At about 3:00PM, six hours after I had started, still nothing. Nairobi looked up at me discouraged.

“Well, you can't win all of the time old friend...” I said to him, ears drooping.

I went to sit back in my chair (forgetting that I wasn't in a chair) and fell backwards, over my hind legs, onto the corrugated floor. I just laid there, utterly exhausted. Nairobi jumped off the desk and landed on me.

“Are you alright?” He asked.
“No I'm not alright! I appear to be absolutely covered in fur...” I said, chuckling a bit.
“It's OK Doc...” He said. “At least you tried.”

I reached over to the shelf directly behind me and pulled out a piece of hardtack from the army rations. It was the only ration I hadn't eaten... and was still as hard as ever. With great difficulty, I broke it in half and gave a piece to Nairobi. I laughed when I saw him trying to crack it with his teeth. However, I didn't laugh when I tried to eat it myself. Finally, I managed to work on it long enough to get it down. It must have taken Nairobi 40 minutes to finish his. Nairobi curled up between my forepaws. I just sat there, petting him and thinking quietly. After what seemed like hours (really only about 2) I was caught totally by surprise. An unfamiliar voice rang throughout the plane. It bounced off of every surface and made loose parts of the walls vibrate.

“This is the S.S. Ultima Speranza, U.S. freight vessel #14809 reporting ETA of about 2 weeks, 3 days. Over.”

The sound came from my radio. There was definitely someone on the other end of the transmission but I could barely hear them. They were too far away. I leapt to my feet with such enthusiasm that I accidentally sent Nairobi to the ground. He shook it off in a flash and joined me at the radio. He was as excited as I was. I picked up the microphone (scavenged from parts as well) and spoke into it, almost hysterically.

“Ultima Speranza, do you read me?” I said. Nothing but crackling... I waited a few moments.
“Ultima Speranza, do you read?” I repeated. Silence.

I slumped back onto my haunches and prepared to give up hope. Several minutes passed...

“Ultima Speranza acknowledges, who is this? Over.” The man said. I picked up the receiver once more.
“This is Dr. Miles Moreau” I said. “I'm stranded on a nearby island! I need your help! Over.”
“Negative, there are no islands in our vicinity... Over.” He said. I felt exasperated.
“Look, can you tell which direction this signal is coming from?...... Over?” I said.
There was an awkward pause.
“Affirmative, your signal is coming from the South...” He said.
“Alright...” I said. “Now you're going to have to trust me. I've been on this island for decades. It IS here. I've been stranded ever since I can remember. I need you to come and rescue me!”
Another pause... I could hear confused voices chattering in the background. Several moments passed before the Ultima Speranza replied.
“Understood. Since there are no other ships in the area, we are coming to investigate. Keep your transceiver on and expect us by morning... This better not be a joke... Over.” The man said.
“Oh no, no... I assure you it isn't a joke! Over.” I said, probably sounding absolutely giddy.

For the rest of the night, I continued to chat with the man aboard the Ultima Speranza. After a few hours, he finally did believe that I was really a stranded scientist, although I neglected to tell him that I was... ...rather unusual. I couldn't sleep at all that night (although Nairobi could). I tried not to think about having to say goodbye to him, but nonetheless I felt sad and overjoyed at the same time. Many hours later, just as the sun had begun to rise, I saw the hulking figure of a ship in the horizon. It was HUGE, a Panamax freighter. It was the largest ship I had ever seen. The radio acted up once more.

“We are approaching the unidentified island. Can you see us? Over.” The voice said. I ran into the plane and picked up the receiver for the last time.
“YES! I CAN SEE YOU!” I shouted joyously.
“Relax. Relax.” The man said, good naturedly. “We'll be sending a landing party by soon! Over.”

I watched in awe as a tiny life-boat was lowered from the ship (which was still considerably far away) and two figures stepped into it. The boat began to make its way slowly across the glassy water. Strangely enough, I began to feel nervous. “They're going to see me!”, I thought. Nairobi had his muzzle pressed against one of the foggy portholes in the plane. I watched nervously from the safety of my fuselage. After some time, the boat hit land and two figures stepped out. My keen fox-senses allowed me to hear them, although they were not near the plane. One man was very tall and heavy. He had black hair and a pair of harsh eyes. The other man was very skinny. He had a thin face and a thoughtful mannerism about himself. He was wearing a rather formal jacket with a stained blue shirt under it. I could tell this one was a real character. They took a few steps across the beach and stopped when they saw the wreckage of my plane and the shrapnel that was littered about. I took special care to hide Nairobi so they wouldn't see us. The thin man spoke up.

“My.......... Someone's been here a long time.” He said, in awe.
“I'll say.” The fatter man said, rather coldly. “You sure someone could really be alive on this island?”

I immediately realized that the thin man was the one I had been talking to.

“I don't doubt it Nick...” The thin man said. “Look, I'm gonna poke around a bit. We'll split up and search the island.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Arik.” Nick replied, in a monotonous way. Captain Arik began to walk away in the other direction with a curious expression on his face.

My heart stopped, Nick was coming this way. There was something I didn't like about him. He seemed cold and unfriendly and I was nervous to have him see me. I did the only thing I could think of. I told Nairobi to hide in the plane and I tried to slip outside unnoticed. Yeah, right... a foxtaur go unnoticed... As I tried to get through a small crack in the fuselage and duck behind the plane, Nick caught a brief glimpse of me. I heard him shout.

“Oh my God! What was that?” He said. He sounded terrified. He must have had a better look at me than I thought.

I decided that it would do no good to run. I sheepishly stepped out from behind the plane. This was a bad idea. I heard a shout of terror as he pulled a revolver from under his shirt. I froze.

“Captain!... Captain!” I heard him shout hysterically. Captain Arik was nowhere to be found.

I tried to take a careful step forward and he cocked the gun. We both stared into each other's eyes.