Flight of the Golden Harpy (50 page)

BOOK: Flight of the Golden Harpy
12.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Shail fluttered and gazed at the destruction. “Can I be harpy again?” he wondered. “Can I forgive and be a protector of life, even human life?” He thought of the women and children that had come to the hunting range and were saddened by his captivity. He dwelled on gentle Mollie and George, the kind old guard, and the young police officer who protected him from Bill. Then there was Doc. He had saved Shail’s life, and the wise Indian, Charlie, who understood him and his harpies, and Turner, whose honor and courage matched his own. How many humans like these inhabited the doomed port?

Wrestling with the dilemma, he flew to the soothing jungle. After a few miles, he spotted a winding stream, glided down, and landed on its pebbled bank. He waded until knee deep in the clear, gushing, flow and splashed cool water on his face and body, hoping to rinse off the worry. Dripping wet, he glanced up and beheld the towering trees and their colorful foliage. They were magnificent, and he realized his mother was right. His hollow soul felt the awe of the all-inspiring jungle and its freedom.

A twig snapped under a fern, and Shail jumped and whirled around. He saw two small children who hid and peered out at him.

“Look, Tom,” the little girl whispered. “It’s the harpy with yellow wings we saw last Saturday. I’m so glad he’s out of the cage.”

“Quiet, Anna,” the boy whispered. “He’ll get us. Dad said he’s dangerous.”

“Well, Mom liked him,” said Anna and crept out from under the fern. “Come here, harpy. I have something for you.”

Shail left the stream and took a few steps toward her.

“Get back here, Anna,” Tom called.

Anna ignored her brother and approached Shail. “Do you like flowers? I have one for you.” Her outstretched hand held a tiny flower, wilted and partially crushed.

Shail crouched down to the girl’s eye level and took the pink flower. He brought it to his nose and smelled it.

“He likes my flower, Tom.” Anna smiled. “He’s so pretty. Mom cried when she saw him in the cage.”

Shail realized their mother had concealed the truth of his coming death from her virtuous children.

“Dad, Dad, come quick,” the boy shouted. “Anna’s messing with a harpy.”

Shail heard the approach of running footsteps that crunched the vegetation. In the past he would have fled, but he stood up straight and waited. A man appeared, his clothes muddy and his face sweaty. Shail sensed his terror.

“Come here, Anna!” the man said.

“He won’t hurt me, Daddy,” said Anna. “I gave him my flower.”

“Do as I say!” the man ordered. Anna reluctantly obeyed, and he grabbed her up in his arms.

“She speaks true,” Shail said softly. “I would not hurt her or your family.”

The man staggered back. “I didn’t know harpies could talk.”

“There is much not known of one another,” Shail said, “but perhaps we should learn.”

The man placed Anna on the ground, and her brother joined them. “We just moved to Dora, but what I’ve heard about harpies doesn’t seem to be true. You’re kind of like us.”

Shail glanced at Anna. “Yes, like you, I long to raise my offspring in safety and live in peace.”

The man wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I wouldn’t call this planet peaceful or safe. We were heading to the port because of the swarms. I took the wrong road, and when the swarms flew overhead, I got cut off, so I drove into the jungle. My vehicle is stuck over there, got wedged between two trees, and we’re lost. Now I’m talking to a harpy.” He shook his head. “It’s been a heck of day.”

A woman emerged from the trees.

“Look, Mom,” said Anna. “It’s the golden harpy.”

The man took his wife’s hand. “It’s okay, honey. The harpy’s all right.” He asked Shail, “Can you tell us the way back to the city?”

“Your city is gone. The swarms dwell there. Follow this water west, and it shall lead you from danger.”

“But we don’t have any food,” said the man.

Shail pointed to the yellow fruit in a tree. “Those can be eaten. The jungle shall provide.”

“Thanks for your help.” The man walked to Shail and offered his hand.

Perplexed, Shail stared at the man’s hand.

The man grinned. “When we meet a friend, we shake one another’s hand.”

“You call me friend?” Shail asked, and slowly extended his hand.

The man grasped Shail’s hand and shook it. “Sure, why not? I hope I see you again.”

“I, too, shall have this hope,” Shail said to the man and watched the human family walk upstream, disappearing among the trees. He gazed at the little flower in his hand; the flower could have been an olive branch. Is it only fear and ignorance that separates harpy from human? he wondered. Must so many die because we do not know one another? While I hold the power, I shall make this peace offering. He was also plagued by a previous conversation with Kari. Even if the Dora humans were driven away or killed, many others dwelled in the stars. Once they learned how to destroy the swarms, they would return to his jungle, and he or his son would again face the hunting threat. He spread his wings and flew toward the governor’s mansion.

It was midafternoon when Shail sailed over his flock and landed near the mansion doors. Aron spotted Shail and joined him, entering the building together. John and Dr. Watkins jumped up from their chairs and approached the harpies as Windy entered the room. All were anxious about Shail’s decision.

Shail deeply sighed. “Though uneasy, I shall give peace a chance,” he said to all in the room.

Aron sniffled and walked in a circle around Shail. “You trust the humans after what they have done?” he relayed. “Let the swarms take them and be done with this threat.” The brown ruffled his feathers and lightly stepped around the golden.

“We would not be done, Aron,” Shail relayed silently. “The threat would grow. After we defeat the swarms, we again would confront the humans who dwell among the stars, and they shall come and blame us for all the death, knowing we rule the swarms. It shall be worse than now. I do not trust humans, but I trust Turner, and his words are wise. While I have power, I must use it.”

Aron stopped in front of Shail. “I am committed to you and stand by your decision, but if I ruled, I would let the humans die. Once rid of swarms, we shall not have to wait for the star threat. It shall already be here. The humans we saved shall pick up their weapons and continue the hunt.”

“There is a chance of betrayal,” Shail relayed, “but I must risk it.”

Aron walked away and leaned against the doorjamb, staring out at the flock that relied on Shail.

John went to Shail. “Aron is obviously not happy with your decision.”

“I am not happy with it,” Shail said. “All my life I have longed to be rid of the humans, but now I compromise and save them. Am I foolish or wise?”

“Wise,” John said. “Today marks the beginning of peace between our two races and ends a tyranny that would eventually destroy your flock. Dr. Watkins and I will use one of the governor’s hovercrafts and go to the port. I promise it will work, Shail.”

Watkins approached them with a folder. “When the people see the disc and blood evidence that proves harpies and humans are close to the same species, they’ll end the hunting.”

“The same?” Shail whirled around, facing Watkins. “Never speak such lies. Like birds, harpies have gentle natures, and lack human cruelty, but don’t mistake our gentleness for weakness. Even a bird turns vicious when defending her chicks. If peace fails, I shall become that mother bird.” The fire in his blue eyes conveyed a smoldering rage, ready to ignite if he were provoked or betrayed.

*   *   *

John and Watkins loaded up in the hover, and Aron provided them with the sap that kept off beetles. After John explained the harpy demands, Shail would come to the port as living proof that harpies weren’t ignorant animals. Shail had his own agenda. If he detected one hint of treachery in the human leaders’ minds, his decision of peace would change.

John flew to the spaceport, and Watkins dropped the sap near the doors where the hover would set down. “I hope these beetles stay put,” John said. “If they take flight, we’re in trouble.”

Hearing the hovercraft, the men inside the port cracked open the doors and peered out. John and Watkins made a dash through the beetles for the doors. The men slid the doors open, allowing the two men inside.

“Who’s in charge?” John asked the men.

“The lieutenant governor and a few senators,” said a man. “They’re in the offices, trying to contact some spaceships.”

John pushed through the crowded room and walked toward the offices. A police officer stood by the door. “It’s urgent I speak with the lieutenant governor. My name is John Turner.”

The officer opened the door and conveyed John’s message.

A tall middle-aged man with jet-black hair came to the door. “I’m Sam Waters, the lieutenant governor. I’m in charge until we reach Governor Blake, but we’re unsure if he escaped the swarms. What’s your urgent information, Mr. Turner?”

“Blake is dead,” John said. “You’re in charge.”

Waters swept back his hair from his forehead. “I feared as much. The governor’s heart condition had grown worse, and he had asked me to take over temporarily. Is that your urgent news?”

“No,” said John. “I know of a way to destroy the swarms, but it comes at a price.”

“We’re desperate. The beetles are blanketing the solar panels for the generator and have penetrated the water system. They’re burrowing through the wooden door sliders, and the nearest spaceship is weeks away. All these people are going to die. Name your price, Mr. Turner.”

“It’s not a matter of money,” John said. “The harpies can destroy the swarms, and in return, they want laws passed that end harpy hunting and gives them equal human rights. Also, a land treaty must be drawn up that gives them title to the outback and islands.”

Waters frowned. “This isn’t the time for jokes. Harpies are animals.”

Watkins stepped forward. “That’s not necessarily true. Actually harpies should be recategorized as another mortal species. They’re part human and very intelligent. I’m Dr. Watkins, and I was hired by Governor Blake to research harpies. I have the scientific evidence and an old disc that explains their ancestry and proves harpies are genetically related to men.”

Waters looked at John and Watkins. “You two are serious?”

“Very serious,” John said.

“Fine,” said Waters, “I don’t care what they are, if they can kill the swarms. Tell them I agree to their terms.”

“No,” said John. “This won’t be handled with a handshake or your word of promise. The laws must be voted on, passed, and signed and the treaty drawn up, guaranteeing their rights and land. I’m here to make sure everything is legal. The harpies have been on the losing end for too long.”

“That will take time, and we don’t have that kind of time,” said Waters.

“Well, Governor Waters, I suggest you get busy,” said John, “because the harpies have plenty of time. They can sit back, watch humans die, and then claim the whole planet for themselves. They made this offer because they have more empathy than we do. Now that the tables have turned, it proves we’re the inferior race. Their ruler will be here shortly, and after years of harpy hunting, his patience is worn thin. You’d better have something to offer him, and don’t consider manipulation. He’s enough animal to sense deceit.”

“I need the senate’s approval,” said Waters.

“Don’t bother,” said John. “The senators have their reputation and their office to lose if the truth comes out about their promotion of harpy extermination. Those men won’t propose or pass a law that helps harpies. I suggest an amendment, and take the vote straight to the people.”

“That’s highly irregular,” said Waters. “I’m sure the senators will pass a law if it means saving human lives.” He grabbed a microphone and walked up on the loading dock. Waters brought the room to a hush and then explained the harpies’ demands. The room erupted with the crowd’s voices and noisy arguments.

Senator Peterson stomped onto the loading dock. “Harpies are winged beasts, and they can’t kill the swarm,” he shouted to the crowd. “By tomorrow the swarms will be gone.”

Waters fired back. “Suppose the swarms don’t leave. Dr. Watkins has proof that harpies are intelligent mortals. What can it hurt if we pass some laws to protect them and give up some land? The only thing we have to lose is our lives.” Heated debates ensued, and the place fell into chaos. Two hours slipped by with nothing accomplished. Waters was at his wit’s end.

John pulled Waters aside. “I told you you’d waste time with the senate, but there’s one who can dispel all doubts and convince the people that the harpies are part human and sincere with their offer.” John walked to the doors and Waters followed. John slightly opened the door and looked at the brown harpy sitting on the hover. “Bring Shail,” he said to the harpy. The harpy flew away, and shortly Shail fluttered and landed near the doors.

“Come in, Shail,” John said and opened the door. Shail entered the port with poise and grace. Mystified by the enchanting creature, the people in the enormous room fell silent. They huddled closer to see his sweeping yellow wings that drifted across the floor, held up by his scantily dressed sleek frame. Shail flung his blond locks from his blue eyes that glittered with confidence and superiority. John smiled. Kari’s husband was utterly magnificent.

“Shail, this is the new governor, Governor Waters,” John said. “He’d like to give you your demands, but the senators are against it, and the people are confused.”

“You rule all these?” Shail asked Waters.

Waters was taken aback by the captivating and speaking harpy. “Yes, yes, I’m the governor now. You speak English?”

“Yes, I speak your words,” Shail said, “perhaps better than you, since your humans remain confused. It is a simple question you need ask them. Do they wish to live or die?”

Waters regained his composure. “Of course they want to live.”

“My harpies also want to live. It is trust we lack. I shall save your humans from the swarms if you save my harpies from hunters.” Shail gazed at the crowd. “It is time to end uncertainty and replace it with understanding.” He leaped into the air and lit on a large crate ten feet above the packed human assembly. Shail folded in his wings and looked down at the gawking people. “I come here to offer you life,” Shail said, forcing his soft voice to be heard. “In return the harpies want peace, equality, and the western jungle. If you do not accept the trade, then greed seals your fate, for the beetles shall stay here. I can and shall destroy the swarms, but it is your decision if it be done before or after your deaths. By next light you must decide.” He glided down and landed near the doors.

Other books

White Eagles Over Serbia by Lawrence Durrell
Compromising Positions by Mary Whitney
Where Is Janice Gantry? by John D. MacDonald
Running on Empty by Sandra Balzo
Web of Deceit by Katherine Howell
Ready to Kill by Andrew Peterson
Drive Time by Hank Phillippi Ryan
Atoning by Kelley Armstrong