Flight of the Golden Harpy (51 page)

John and Waters walked to him. Waters smiled. “I do believe you ended their confusion and made things very clear.”

“I shall return with the dawn,” Shail said. “Do not fail, new ruler. There are many females and young here. I do not wish their deaths, but if there is no protective law, no treaty for my harpies, the innocent blood shall be on your hands as well as mine.” He shoved the sliding doors open and stepped outside. In a flash, he was gone.

*   *   *

“My God, he’s charismatic,” said Waters, “and direct.”

John nodded. “Shail looks like an elegant fowl, but just remember, Governor, under those feathers, he’s tough as nails and means every word he says. Don’t make the mistake of screwing him over.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please don’t listen to the harpy,” said a voice on a microphone. Senator Blackwell stood on the loading platform and addressed the crowd.

John glared at Blackwell, the same stubby senator who had bid against him at the auction. “How did that asshole get into office?” he said to Waters.

“Money,” Waters said, and moved toward the platform.

Blackwell grinned and spoke to the audience. “Sure, the harpy is handsome, but a talking harpy is a freak of nature, and he’s the same despicable golden that murdered three men and raped the woman at the hunting range. It’s a trick to get us out of the port. He wants the men dead, so his harpies can molest our women. If he really can wipe out the swarms, that means he set this plague upon us. Harpies are evil creatures. We shouldn’t trust them. The beetles will leave when there’s nothing left to eat. Just give it some time.”

John and Waters walked up to the platform, and Waters spoke into the microphone. “Senator Blackwell, I think the people should hear both sides of this issue. I personally don’t know anything about harpies, but a port supervisor told me that the harpies warned us about the coming swarms, giving us time to secure the port. If not for their warning, the ventilation systems would be clogged and the wooden doors penetrated. We would all be dead. Next to me is Mr. Turner. He knows quite a bit about harpies and should be allowed to speak before we rule out their demands.”

Blackwell grinned at John. “Of course I have no objection to letting John Turner speak. He’s a well-known harpy hunter and holds the record for the largest pair of golden wings.” Blackwell handed the microphone to John.

John took a deep, nervous breath. “My name is John Turner,” he said, “and I did kill a male harpy twenty years ago, but I regret it. I’ve since discovered the truth about male harpies. First of all, you should know I was married to a harpy, and my daughter is half harpy.”

The people’s voices rumbled through the giant room.

“It’s true,” John said. “Female harpies have no wings and appear human. Since Dora was colonized they have secretly walked among us, living in our cities, towns, and farms. Their disguise saved their species, but now their males face extinction because of overhunting. Their last refuge, the western islands, is being plundered, and soon the shy, gentle race will be lost. They are a race of winged humans. You saw and heard their golden ruler. He’s as intelligent as any person in this room and surely can’t be called a game animal.”

John pointed down at the crowd. “Down there is Dr. Watkins. He was hired by our late governor, Henry Blake, to research harpies. He has the scientific proof that harpies carry human DNA, and he has a three-hundred-year-old ship log, discovered in the western mountains. It explains the harpies’ ancestry, and everyone in this port should see the disc. The fact is the harpies are our blood brothers, and they have never stolen or raped our women. These lies were started by the Dorial explorers, the ancestors of our senators. You might wonder why Senator Blackwell and the other senators are reluctant to pass a law that protects harpies. Why they have openly promoted harpy hunting. It’s a cover-up to protect their reputation and the reputation of their famous Dorial forebears. When the Dorials came to the planet, they captured and molested the female harpies, and the males were slaughtered when they attempted to rescue their mates. The women who were supposedly taken and molested by harpies were really female harpies who were trying to get back to their mates and the jungle. Our senators know this fact and wish to hide it.”

“That’s a lie!” Blackwell shouted. “I don’t know of any such rubbish, and male harpies are the rapists. Your precious golden ruler recently raped that poor woman at the hunting range. I know her, and she’s no harpy.”

“Senator Blackwell,” Mollie called from the crowd.

“Here she is,” said Blackwell. “Come up, Mollie. It’s important that we hear the truth about the vicious harpy.”

Mollie moved through the people and was visibly shaken when she stood on the platform.

John gave her the microphone.

“Last Saturday night I was attacked and raped,” she said. Her voice trembled and tears wet her black eyes. “But the harpy didn’t do it. Gus Simpson and his two men raped me and tried to kill me. They planned to blame my murder on the golden harpy so the hunters would bid higher at the auction. The harpy pulled Gus off of me and saved my life. Those men had a knife and cornered the harpy. He had no choice but to kill in self-defense. I lied to the police because Gus’s brother, Bill Simpson, threatened to kill me if I told the truth, but I must tell the truth now. I’ve worked with caged harpies, and they’re sweet and timid creatures. They deserve some peace.” She lowered her head and handed the microphone back to John and left the platform.

Senator Blackwell grabbed the microphone out of John’s hand. “Well, one of those timid creatures had the nerve to kill three men. The harpies are seeking revenge. If it’s true that harpies can destroy the swarms, why didn’t they do it sooner? I’m telling you they caused this plague, and now they want us out of the protected port to kill us. We should wait and see if the swarms leave before giving in to those devils.”

John took hold of the microphone and eyed the senator. “I wasn’t quite finished,” he said.

Blackwell looked up, handed the microphone to John, and backed away.

“Look, everyone, the swarms aren’t leaving,” John said. “They smell us and will stay at the port until they get in. We don’t have the water or food to wait them out or for a ship to arrive. There is a connection between the harpies and the swarms. For decades the harpies have protected their jungle by preventing the beetles from multiplying. The protection was stopped when the harpies were faced with extinction. We allowed hunters to reduce their flocks. We are the plague and broke the chain in nature. Without harpies, the swarms would multiply and obliterate the planet, and there’d be nothing to stop them.”

John turned and looked at Blackwell. “What Senator Blackwell suggests doesn’t make sense. If the harpies want us dead, why did they warn us about the coming swarms so we could prepare this port? Why would their ruler come here and offer a truce that could save us when he could do nothing and watch us die? If they destroy the swarm to get our women, they would still face our weapons and be slaughtered None of this adds up unless you understand the harpies’ motives. They long for peace, and pride themselves in protecting life, even human life that has threatened their existence. Harpies will die when they attack these swarms. What kind of race are we to deny them some rights, and land, when they’re willing to forgive and protect us? As their ruler said, if we’re that greedy, we have sealed our own fate.”

The people broke into noisy chatter. “Give the harpies their demands!” several men yelled.

Waters took the microphone. “As governor, I’m issuing a state-of-emergency bill, and we’ll vote on it by a show of hands. I assume I have the senate’s approval.”

Blackwell shrugged and several senators nodded.

“Raise your hand if you want to pass a law prohibiting harpy hunting, granting the harpies human rights, and endorsing the treaty, giving the harpies the entire outback, the land west of the city once known as Terrance, and the western islands.”

The massive domed room became a sea of raised hands.

“Those opposed?” Waters asked.

Blackwell and the other senators raised their hands, and there were a few scattered raised hands in the crowd.

“It’s almost unanimous. We’ll give the harpies their demands,” Waters said, and a roar of cheers rose from the crowd. He turned to John. “Without your compelling speech, we might have lost the vote. You should have been in politics.”

“No thanks.” John grinned. “No offense, but I’m too bad at lying to be in your line of work. Besides, it wasn’t me that convinced them. They voted for Shail.”

“I’ll draw up the new law and treaty,” said Waters. “When I’m done, you can read it over before I sign it. I just hope your friend, Shail, doesn’t change his mind.”

“He won’t,” said John. “Harpies are very honest and reliable.”

Governor Waters motioned to Watkins to come up on the platform. “This would be a good time to play the disc on the monitors and answer any questions.”

“It’s an extraordinary ship log. It shows the creation of a new species,” said Watkins. “The disc is loaded and ready to play.”

Waters announced to the people that the monitors would show the ancient captain’s log. All eyes focused on the large screens normally used for incoming and outgoing ship times and cargo. The story of Captain James, his crew, and his ill-fated freighter,
The Princess,
played for the Hampton people. The port was quiet, and women shed tears when the elderly James expressed his love for his harpy children and grandchildren. When the disc was over, men shook their heads and grumbled, disgusted that the harpies had been so misjudged and mistreated. A new admiration rose for the harpies that were named after Jack Harper, a lonely young crewman with the compassion to save an animal called a loca eagle.

Governor Waters sighed. “It’s unbelievable,” he said to John and Watkins. “For a century and a half an entire race has suffered and died because of a few lying men. The Dorial monument will crumble, and the senators have no hope of reelection after this scandal. Regardless of the swarm threat, the harpies should have been protected all these years.”

John nodded. “Being afraid and uniformed creates a prejudice that’s a tough mountain to overcome, and a few rotten men can stop the climb. Your predecessor, Governor Blake, wanted to expose the truth and help the harpies, but his wife was the real hidden agenda. She’s a harpy and Shail’s mother.”

“I’ll be darned,” said Waters. “I always wondered how Henry managed to get a beautiful young wife. I’d better go into an office and start drawing up the bill and treaty. I have only until morning. I’m eager to get to know Shail.”

“You’re a fair man,” said John. “Once he gets to know you, I think you’ll get along fine.”

Through the night Waters and his staff worked on the documents. John wandered through the port of people that attempted to sleep in the cramped quarters. Even with the thick metal walls, they heard the dreadful buzz and hum of the beetles. Most of the water was gone, and the crowd worried. After all the atrocities inflicted on his flock, would the golden ruler keep his word and save them?

*   *   *

After his trip to the port, Shail returned to the governor’s mansion and his ever-growing male flock. All knew of the single surviving golden who ruled, but many had never seen Shail. The eastern flocks lived nocturnal lives and dwelled just outside of the large city of Hampton. The strategy had saved them, since the hunters were oblivious to their existence. The river harpies also had adjusted their lifestyle. Abandoning the trees, they learned to live and conceal themselves in the open swampland. The hunters believed the eastern harpies were extinct, and the river area held a few scattered flocks. As a result, Aron and Shail’s western males took the full heat; the hunters journeyed west for their harpy prey. When Shail looked at the huge gathering, he was surprised by the numbers. He ruled a flock of several thousand.

Shail walked inside the mansion, and his mother embraced him and kissed his cheek. “I am very proud of you,” she said.

“You think it wise I choose to save the humans?”

“I know many who are good in the port, and I would mourn their loss if you chose differently, but your decision must be for the welfare of your flock.”

“I have considered all the ways, and I believe this is the best path. If the humans agree to a truce, I shall save them. I gave my word.”

After eating a curious human food of nut bread, Shail curled up on a soft rug in the main living room. His mother sat on the floor and stroked his back. He relaxed and stared at the leaping flames in the fireplace. The fear of sleeping in a human dwelling had long passed. Little could frighten him now.

He drifted to sleep under his cream wings and sought Kari in the illusionary state. They connected telepathically, and he embraced his mate. Feeling contentment, he slowly was becoming whole again, the scars of abuse fleeting.

The first rays of dawn filtered through the windows and woke Shail. He went outside and watched the mass of harpies stir in and beneath the surrounding trees. Aron approached and handed him some fruit.

“The next few lights shall be hard on all here,” Shail said and nibbled. “Have them rest. I soon go to the port and learn if the humans accept our demands. I shall return before mid-light.”

With the repellent sap wrapped in a large leaf, Shail spread his wings and flew south to the domed port. He reached the doors, fluttered, and poured the sap in front of the threshold. The beetles scurried away, and he landed and tapped lightly against the doors.

A man peeked out the door. “He’s here!” he yelled to the room of people and slid the door open.

Shail stepped inside, and the bedded-down humans clamored to their feet and quietly stared at him. He waited near the door as John and Waters walked toward him.

“They have agreed to the truce and the new laws,” Waters said.

Shail looked at John, seeking validation. “It’s true, Shail,” John said. “The harpies are protected by law. There’s no more hunting. You have the same rights as humans, and the western outback and islands, even my estate, belongs to the harpies.”