Christopher Philips (Chris), 32-year-old Ecologist. Harem Hotel Goes Camping.

In a forest, a man in long cargo pants tucked into his socks seemed to wander aimlessly. He blindly threw a square made out of the thinnest PVC piping and elbows. That will be my sampling location, he thought. He looked at where it landed and started whacking his dragnet across it. Let's see what I find. Opening the net, he started putting all the small bugs and other arthropods inside containers in a large bin in a shaded area. Hearing a chirp from up in the branches, he looked up. With his camera, he tried to take a picture of the bird.

Looking at it, he said out loud: “Cypseloides niger... I think, looking at it. Man, my camera can’t keep up with the speed of those wing flaps even in burst mode." Glancing over the creeks and brooks, he noted, "I haven’t seen any waterfalls nearby. They must be migrating from one nesting ground to another. Will need to go in the impact report, though. Those asshats, over at Jackson and Sons development, will be happy to see it isn’t nesting here. Ryan will need to make a note of it though and recommend responses to minimise the impact on any migrating ones. Maybe a park corridor with a water catchment.”

Opening a laptop, he opened a spreadsheet labelled Project Site 2786 Species Catalogue. He navigated over from the invertebrates section to the birds and added Cypseloides niger to the logs. He added the insects, arachnids and more. He kept cataloguing the species he had found until he had catalogued them all. Occasionally, some of the nosier deer or raccoons showed up, and he took a picture, but sometimes it was something interesting like a snake or a lizard who were shyer. This continued until late afternoon.

Finishing the message, he started to cook on a small camping stove. Thinking to himself, this is the life: a job outdoors with plenty of activity, dinner outside, and returning home afterwards.

He started thinking about his life choices for the hundredth time. "Am I glad that Ryan and I started this consultancy job together? Ryan does most of the research, and I do the fieldwork. I don’t complain that he has normal hours. He doesn’t care that I work in bursts."

They made our hours for each project. Next week, Chris only needed to check the camera traps; the smaller critters didn’t move that much in a week. The week after that, he would be going here again for sampling like today. But that meant next week, he would have practically free time. He only needed to check in the morning and do inventory on the species and compare to see who lives in the area more permanently.

A simple burger with some pickled onions and other things that keep well without being preserved ended up being his dinner.

Checking back on his phone, he saw a message from Ryan:

After this exchange, Chris put on a timer with a birdcall as the alarm. Because he thought it was funny and could lure out a reaction. Starting to read a book by a green light, the book was old, read a thousand times, a second-hand copy of Gulliver's Travels. After the timer made a bird call of the Greater sage-grouse. Sadly, hearing no response. He started sampling again, walking back to his car. Sampling at least a dozen or more times as he went. This process took him another four hours, but otherwise, he wouldn’t get a good night sample of species. The man was glad he did. He wouldn’t have found half of those slugs if he did it during the day. For some of those newts, he needed to compare the pictures with reference images to see what species they were. He did so at home before bed, after a shower and a thorough check for ticks. Having your pants in your socks helped, but didn’t prevent them by a long shot. After confirming it wasn’t a protected species, he went to bed.

In a totally different forest with larger creeks ending in a lake with a large clearing next to a few large huts. An elf dressed in what could only be described as a park ranger uniform is making preparations. “Come on, I want to get this show on the road as soon as possible. Tents check, folding chairs check, decent deck chair with a good cushion check, cabin furnished check. Alexolyana, how are we on the backpacks with the basic tools and stuff?”

An elf dressed in an orange T-shirt with ‘HH-campgrounds’ emblazoned on it responded. “Six backpacks with phones, knives, hammers, axes, flint and steel, rope and flasks packed. All the potential weapons are enchanted to prevent harm to others and to let us know of the attack. I even added a minor enchantment to make the hammer go ‘bonk’ if it hits a human or elf. Ready for our campers, ma’am.”

“Good job. Initiative on the enchantments is appreciated. I think that we have all the things ready, or do you think I am forgetting something?” The elf dressed in the ranger uniform said.

“No, Lady Syldreth. The canteen is operational, and the bathhouse is ready as well. Activities can be planned and arranged as needed.” Alexolyana replied.

“Good, then let's start the show. Hello, ladies, gentlemen, gentlewomen, lads, lassos and anything in between. Welcome to a new season of Harem Hotel. This time we aren’t in a hotel, but we are instead camping out.” Syldreth says, waving around the campgrounds, which are currently still mostly empty. “The master will be staying in the only cabin on the ground. Whilst our contestants will be forced to set up their own tent. Let’s hope they know how to or dare to ask someone who does know, for help. Don’t worry, all tents come with their instructions. Now let’s meet our master.” The show rolled B-roll from Chris working in the forest, looking at plants and animals, taking pictures.

Chris stood at the entrance of a campground, the scent of an old forest with lots of life wafting over him: fungi, dead leaves being crushed, lots of water, and lots of wildflowers. Where he was greeted by a woman with pointy ears, a nonexistent chest, and decently wide hips, holding a clipboard. “Hello, let me check, Christopher Philips, I presume?”

He responded, “Yeah, that’s me?”

She cheerfully responded, “Good, then I didn’t screw up. My name is Alexolyana. But I heard that for humans, that might be hard, so you can just call me Alex. If you would follow me, my boss will explain everything once all our guests have arrived.”

She started guiding him down a path past what seemed to be a sanitary building, a canteen and finally a cabin. In front of which was a semi-circle with one normal deck chair flanked by 3 foldable canvas camping chairs on either side. She directed him to the deck chair. A different woman with pointy ears walked up to him. This time with at most a B-cup chest and more hips in a park ranger uniform. She said, “Hello Christopher, I am Syldreth, or you can call me Syl if you prefer, and you have been chosen to be the master in the new season of Harem Hotel, Harem Hotel Goes Camping. Care to introduce yourself to the audience?”

He asked, “What kind of weird dream is this? I never wanted a harem before. Why are there elves here? Who would I even put in my harem?”

“Can you answer the following questions: Who are you? What is your job? Hobbies? Last sexual encounter? Anything fun you want to add?” Syl asked.

Chris was magically compelled by the mic used by the host and responded, “I am Christopher Philips. I go by Chris most of the time, and am 32 years old. I am half of an ecological consultancy firm. So if you need advice or an assessment of species in an area where you might want to build or something like that. I check what lives there, and Ryan does the data analysis and the advising. As for hobbies, whittling wood, reading, drawing and anything I can do during my wait times for surveying. Though my friends say I am mildly obsessed with my job. The last time I had sex was 5 years ago. Before I saw my ex, Missy, getting fucked by some muscle idiot in her apartment when I went to pick her up for a cup of coffee during one of my breaks. The biodiversity of the area around the campgrounds seems pretty large on first look from where I am standing.” He shook his head afterwards.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you might be a tad work obsessed.” Syl quiped at his idea of a fun thing to add.

“Do what your passion is, I suppose. How did you make me answer those questions?” He asked, realising how weird it is that he answered the questions.

“Magic.” She responded dryly. “But now let's introduce our first contestant.”