by Olga Werby
Grock flew lower and settled on the terracotta roof. With Grock’s excellent eyesight, Kyle was able to identify the kitchen and dining area to the left of the back gate on the first floor. Next to the dining room was a recreation room with sofas, tables, and a TV. On the other side of the building were medical offices and administrative rooms. The patients appeared to be housed on the second floor. Most seemed to be double-occupancy, one was dormitory style with about ten beds, and there were about a dozen solitary rooms. Will, who had been deemed dangerous, would certainly be placed in one of those.
Grock flew back into the air and floated on a cushion of air, hardly moving his wings. Ravens could soar in place for a long time. It was as if they had been designed for surveillance. Kyle decided to split his attention, to return to Vikka and give her a quick update. He didn’t want her to get anxious and suddenly pull him out of Grock’s head.
“Kyle?” He heard her soft voice. Had she been calling to him for a while? Was that why he had thought of giving Vikka an update right now? He wasn’t sure and that bothered him.
“Oh, good, you’re back,” Vikka said. “Your batteries are running low.”
Kyle blinked a few times, readjusting to his human reality. The shift in color and perspective was jarring. “Already?”
“Yes. It’s been over two hours. What do you want to do?”
Two hours? It felt a lot shorter. “I have a solar pack in the back,” he said. He tried to get out of the cab of the truck, but his human body wasn’t yet responsive. His legs felt disconnected, full of cotton balls. Inside, he was still flying.
“Careful,” Vikka said, catching Kyle’s elbow and stabilizing him. “Can I remove your BBI headband? It might be easier—”
The rest of what she said was lost under a rush of panic and adrenaline. Just the suggestion of disrupting his connection to Grock distressed him. He took a few deep breaths and tried to pull himself together. Grock was fine on his own for a while. There was no reason not to unplug and help Vikka set up the solar array away from the shade of the trees hiding the truck. And yet…Kyle found that removing the connection was difficult. It took a real act of will to pull the plug.
“Are you all right?” Vikka asked. “Did you find Will?”
Kyle shook his head. The motion helped bring his human senses back online. “Didn’t see Will yet. And I’m fine. I guess my legs fell asleep,” he lied. He stomped his feet demonstrably. “That’s better. Let’s set up the array over here.” He hoped Vikka didn’t see his shaking hands inside the sleeves of his oversized black hoodie.
They gathered the portable solar panels from the truck bed and arranged them in a sunny spot. Kyle forced himself to be deliberate and methodical as he set up the panels and ran the wires to the backpack. He noticed that Vikka was surprisingly adept at handling the equipment.
“Done this before?” he asked, his voice strained.
Vikka smiled. “I know how to set up camp in under ten minutes. I can purify water and rewire a radio. Uncle Geo made me learn outdoor survival skills almost as soon as I was able to walk. He called them advantages.”
“Wow,” Kyle said, impressed.
“It was fun to do outdoorsy things, when I was a kid.” Vikka rolled a few rocks to secure the wires from pulling out of the solar array. “I feel bad that Toby’s never had that chance.”
The mood changed. Kyle knew that Vikka really cared for the girl. He did too. But she was what she was; everybody had to work with what they had and there was no point in pining for something that was never meant to be.
That had always been Kyle’s philosophy. Do the best with what you have. Except now that his best had changed in scope, he was starting to see more possibilities for Toby as well. Maybe she couldn’t do outdoorsy things as a human, but she could soar as a raven, she could scramble as a rat, she could run as a pig. And her ideas about whale riding…well, that was something Kyle would like to try too.
But first things first: they needed to get Will out of that facility.
They both climbed back into the cab of the truck. “Okay,” Kyle said, “I’ll try to find Will and figure out his condition.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s drugged,” Vikka said. “You should have seen him when he fired the gun. He was not okay. It’s like he completely snapped. When they said he was going to a mental hospital, I totally agreed.”
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “And yet you’re helping to break him out of there.”
“We need him. Toby needs him.” She shrugged as if their needs were enough to release a crazy man from a mental institution.
“Will you be able to handle him?” Kyle asked.
“I’m not that kind of doctor, but I’ll do what I can. Uncle Geo set me up with some sedatives. If Will becomes a problem…”
Kyle hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The Will he knew was a steady, diligent scientist and a dedicated—if a bit distracted—dad. With his wife dead and Toby sick—and that stupid drone attack—Kyle could understand why Will felt he needed to protect his daughter. Stupidly. Dangerously. Ineffectively. But maybe for all the right reasons. Who knows what happens to people under tremendous stress?
He slipped the headset back on and was back inside Grock, experiencing the raven’s world.
Grock was no longer hovering over the building. He was sitting on the roof, hanging out with five other ravens. Unlike Kyle, Grock made friends easily.
He felt his feathers ruffle as the bird closest to him cawed loudly. Anger rose up. They didn’t need to attract attention. Raven emotions were less suppressed, more raw, on the surface—and they made his human body react strongly as well. He needed to control himself, so he counted silently to ten and made Grock look around and check out his bird buddies.
The ravens looked very comfortable on the red tile roof. There were quite a few splotches of droppings around them, covering the tiles with white, black, and greenish goo. Some looked old; this gathering clearly wasn’t an anomaly. That was good—it meant Grock wouldn’t attract attention unless, of course, someone spotted the stupid blue light on the top of his head.
A man came out of the building and called to the ravens. As one, they flew up off the roof and down to the man. Grock was the only bird left on the roof. The man had a plate with scraps of meat that he threw at the birds. The ravens managed to snatch the treats right out of the air, fighting each other for the tastier bits.
Kyle felt Grock’s desire to grab some meat too. If Grock got really hungry, Kyle wouldn’t be able to control him—strong desires overrode even the cog-boost implant. Riding was always easiest if the human rider went along with the animal’s desires.
So Kyle made Grock take up into the air—that’s what the raven wanted to do—but then forced him to fly back to the truck.
“Groooock! Groooock!” the bird protested, but flew back anyway.
Kyle didn’t dare focus his attention away from Grock until he arrived back at the truck.
“Groooock!” Grock said, announcing his arrival. He hopped onto the truck’s roof, still agitated, head bobbing.
“Quick, give me the rest of the salami,” Kyle said to Vikka. His voice came out mechanical, almost flat, but his increased heart rate must have communicated his urgency, because Vikka moved quickly. She grabbed the backpack from the floor of the passenger seat and started rifling through it.
Vikka let out a small cry. “You carry a gun? Were you expecting to use it on someone?”
Vikka’s reaction surprised Kyle. He’d assumed her uncle would have taught her how to shoot—survival skills and all that. But apparently she didn’t like guns.
Ignoring the question, he put on the leather gardening glove he had tucked away in the glove compartment, then took the salami Vikka placed in his hand. He stepped out of the truck and presented the salty meat to Grock. The raven pretended not to see the salami and let out a cry in protest. Apparently he was still upset about being denied the treats offered by the man back at the building.
Kyle waved the salami back and forth in front of Grock. “Come on. You know you want it. I know you’re upset, buddy, but we work together. We’re a team. And sometimes that means not taking free food from strangers.” He spoke in the soothing voice that he practiced with Grock. It wasn’t high-pitched baby talk—Grock liked lower register voices—but it still had a sing-song quality. Regular human speech didn’t particularly excite the bird; Grock didn’t grok language, after all. But the raven always knew when Kyle was addressing him. For Grock, it was all about presentation.
Finally, Grock jumped down and none-too-gently snatched the piece of salami from Kyle. If Kyle weren’t wearing the glove, he would have received a nasty gash from Grock’s hard black beak. Or perhaps, Kyle thought, if he wasn’t wearing the glove, Grock would have taken the meat more gently.
“Don’t be mad at me, buddy. I have some water for you too.” Kyle pulled out a water bottle and a plastic cup. He poured a quarter cup of the liquid for Grock, then took a swig for himself from the bottle. “Here you go,” he said.
With Grock busy eating, Kyle returned to the cab, disconnected his BBI, and focused on Vikka. She sat as far away from him as the truck seat would allow.
“What’s the gun for?” she asked.
“Emergencies,” Kyle said. “I mean, we’re in the middle of nowhere trying to break out a madman from a lunatic asylum.”
“Will is not a madman,” Vikka said.
“I don’t think so either,” Kyle said. “But it could still be dangerous to get him out.”
“Did you manage to spot Will?”
“No, not yet. But Grock made a few friends. There were other ravens and crows there. Apparently someone from the kitchen has been feeding them regularly. Grock wasn’t thrilled that he didn’t get any, but we have an understanding.”
“And we have salami.”
“That too.”
Kyle pulled the backpack to his lap and Vikka tensed up again. He rummaged around—the gun was still in there—and pulled out a Tupperware box with hard-boiled eggs, crackers, and some cheese.
“Here,” he said. “And there are more water bottles in the back of the truck. They’ll be warm, but…”
“Thank you,” Vikka said. “I’m starving.” She grabbed an egg and some salt packets from the bottom of the container.
Kyle ate a few eggs too, and they shared the cheese and crackers. Kyle couldn’t resume his mission until Grock finished his salami anyway—and the raven was taking his time with it. Kyle suspected it was on purpose, as a punishment for taking him away from the raven feast back at the hospital. But since Grock’s brain implant needed recharging, it was all good.
It was just before three when Kyle and Grock took off again for the mental hospital. Grock flew fast this time, taking only a few minutes to cover the distance. On arrival, they found Grock’s raven companions still around, catching a bit of sun on the tile roof. The sun was important—it prevented mildew and parasites from growing among their feathers. They perched, preened, and cawed to each other.
Kyle made Grock take a long loop around the building before settling down on the roof among his friends. He wanted to see the location of the security cameras once again. He spotted cameras at the two gates, a few scattered along the perimeter fence, and one inside the courtyard. He had no doubt there were more inside, probably in stairwells and corridors. With so many cameras, there would be a security room—an office with monitors showing all the video feeds. Kyle suspected that such a room would be located on the first floor in the office wing, or in a basement if there was one.
The cameras in the courtyard and on the gates were mounted sideways, on the wall. That gave Kyle an idea. He made Grock sit on the edge of the roof, just over the camera next to the kitchen, and then focused on Grock’s digestive system.
The chunk of salami the raven had just eaten was a significant piece of meat. Birds’ didn’t have sphincter control; when the food was done traveling along their large intestine, the body expelled it. Birds had to keep their weight down to reduce the energy necessary to keep them flying; they didn’t retain spent waste inside their bodies.
Kyle made the raven aim for the smooth semicircular glass case of the security camera below—and tickled Grock’s desire to discharge.
He felt the forceful release and for a moment he worried that his human body might mirror the action. The thought made him pull his attention back into the cab of the truck. He glanced at Vikka; she smiled back. There was a nasty smell of sulfur in the cab. Kyle turned red and hoped it was just a fart. Unfortunately, he had no time to check on that now.
When he slipped back into Grock’s awareness, the raven was back among the other birds on the roof. He made Grock jump up into the air and take a quick peek at the security camera. While he hadn’t landed a direct hit, the mess was significant. Ravens are very big birds.
Some of the other ravens took to the air and started making noise. Grock’s performance had attracted attention. Ravens were among the smartest birds in the avian kingdom and Kyle was sure they had a wicked sense of humor. When the Far Side cartoon depicted the world from birds’ point of view, Gary Larson was right to make every human head a target.
Now he watched as raven after raven performed small feats of acrobatic flying to target the other security cameras on the hospital’s campus, trying to outdo each other in accuracy and spread. Kyle found the whole thing hysterical. And so did Grock.
“Kyle? Kyle?” He felt Vikka gently shaking him back to his human reality.
“Hmm?” he managed.
“What’s going on? You’re giggling…and before that…” Vikka’s voice was full of concern, but there was also a note of hilarity. Laughter was as contagious among mammals as yawning.
Kyle shook his head and focused on his human senses. The bad smell was gone—good. It must have just been gas, thank goodness. He felt a bit of drool sliding down his chin. He wiped it with the back of his sleeve. Poor Vikka, he thought. I’m quite a companion.
“I’m sorry—”
“No need to apologize. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She had a hand on his wrist, monitoring his pulse.
“Grock fouled one of the security cameras,” Kyle explained. “The other ravens thought it was funny. So they all did it. Not just security cameras, but windows, picnic tables, doorknobs. It’s a complete mess. A guard was screaming at them and waving a big white towel when I came back here.”
“Wow.”
“It’s a scene. But I have to go back to Grock now.”
“Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She said something else, but Kyle was already back with Grock.
He was impressed by the damage the birds had done. They were now circling overhead and screaming at the guards, who were shouting back at them. Kyle felt bad for the cook who’d fed the birds earlier—he was sure to get into trouble after this. And the ravens weren’t likely to get another free meal either. But it was an incredible bit of luck. Many of the security cameras were offline now—they needed a thorough cleaning.
Then Kyle had another stroke of good fortune. A guard stormed out of a side door and looked up at the sky—leaving the door open behind him. Swooping lower, trying his best to avoid the angry guard’s attention, Grock peered inside. The door led directly to the security room. He saw wall-to-wall monitors, many showing bird crap, but others showing interior hallways and rooms.
He landed near the open door and took a closer look. Four patient rooms were under camera observation and Will was in one of them. He was sitting on his bed looking out the windows at the commotion.
Kyle made Grock fly past the second-floor windows facing the courtyard, looking for Will’s room. The windows had some sort of treatment that made it difficult to see inside, but after a few passes, Kyle was able to spot Will’s window. He landed Grock on a ledge just outside and tapped at the glass with his beak. Will came over and he clearly recognized Grock right away.
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br /> To Will’s credit, he didn’t overreact. After an initial step back, he moved closer to the window and pretended to watch the ravens with amusement—not just Grock, but the other birds as well. When Grock flew down to a tree in the courtyard, then back up again, Will understood. He turned and left his room. Another bit of luck—Will wasn’t locked in his room; he had the run of the facility. That made Kyle’s job a lot easier.
Grock flew back down, sat on a high branch of the tree, and waited. As Grock watched, one of the guards brought out a ladder, a bucket of water, and some window cleaner. They were distracted. Kyle wouldn’t have a better opportunity to get Will out. It was time to improvise.
Will took his time. Kyle approved—people noticed hurried movements. A leisurely stroll to check out the commotion in the yard was a good cover. Other patients and even a doctor were looking out into the yard at the mess the birds had left behind.
Grock kept on twitching, trying to get back up in the air to join the other screeching ravens. It took a lot of concentration to keep the bird still. Kyle tried to make Grock think of this as a hunt, which would make the raven more patient.
“Grooock!” Kyle couldn’t stop his bird from screaming. One of the guards on cleanup duty threw a toilet brush at Grock. Not good. Kyle didn’t want to attract any attention. He forced his will on Grock and the raven stilled.
Kyle didn’t know how much time passed; birds and humans had a different perception of time. But finally Will appeared in a doorway. Another patient was with him and they were both looking up at the ravens.
