Bro.

I have placed the two Quadragnes in two observation cages, transparent only from the outside looking in, and separated by a temporary partition that is for the moment opaque. The cages are empty, except for a narrow orifice intended to receive their excrement. Food will be transmitted to them by matter decoder during their sleep: it is important for exactness of observation that the Quadragnes be completely unaware of me, for it is well known that the physical presence of an observer alters the behaviour of the creature under observation.

Brou.

I have observed the two Quadragnes for a major part of the cycle. Quadragne A passed the greater part of his time pacing back and forth in the cage. He ate voraciously the fruits of the eligourne and drank the milk of the adrache, but he refused the flesh of the bzigalgue: tomorrow I will have it cooked.

I saw him expel at two intervals a clear excremental fluid by means of his ventral tube: the first time against the wall of the cage, the second time into the hole reserved for this use, whose purpose he understood only after long contemplation.

Quadragne B has not touched her food. She has remained immobile in a corner of the cage, withdrawn into herself, all her limbs folded.

Bru.

The attitude of the two Quadragnes appears to evolve toward a norm of common activity: Quadragne B has drunk and eaten a little, has made several circuits of her cage, and has squatted over the hole to expel liquid and solid excrement. Quadragne A has behaved very similarly. He has shown himself considerably less agitated than B.

I still don't understand what is happening to me. They've put me in a completely empty room and taken away all my clothes. The walls are made of a weird silvery material that doesn't seem to be metal—it's hard to the touch, but it's warm and luminous. As far as the ceiling goes, I can't even tell whether it's high or low, solid or not. It looks like a sky with a low fog. It gives me a funny feeling, this ceiling. I'm almost afraid to look up.