by Susan Klaus
Shail sat up. “In the sacred mountain, Kari discovered such proof on a disc and planned to give it to a man called Watkins.”
“Dr. Watkins has the disc and I have seen it, but there has been no time to expose it.” She stood and stared out the balcony. “All of Henry’s well-laid plans to save the harpies fell apart. The beetles, once only a threat to the timber, turned deadly. The town of Terrance was destroyed. Henry was under pressure to kill the beetles or evacuate the planet. Then hunters captured you, and Henry feared my depression would return if you were killed. Henry’s heart was weak and had plagued him for many seasons. His heart, that gave me so much love, gave out from the stress. I hid his death and had Dr. Watkins bid on you at the auction. I did not want the senators to know that the governor’s wife had bought a golden harpy. It might arouse their suspicions.”
Free of the tranquilizer, Shail stood and walked to her. “I am sorry for your loss,” he said and hugged her. “I must leave now and find Kari before the swarms strike the city. I fear she refused to leave.”
“The swarms destroy Hampton as we speak, but Kari is safe and taken to the mountains.”
“How do you know?”
“Aron faithfully slept at the foot of your bed all night. After he sent Kari to the mountains, he went against your wishes and decided to rescue you. When Dr. Watkins and two other men took you from the hunting range, he and his flock followed the vehicle here. Not knowing you had been saved, Aron and the harpies descended on the vehicle. I revealed myself and stopped them from harming the men who work for me.” She took Shail’s hand and led him out on the balcony. “Look upon your flock, Shail. They have gathered here and await their ruler.”
Shail gazed upon several thousand male harpies. Seeing him and his golden mother, the harpies lowered their heads and knelt. “Aron is among them?”
“No, he has gone to find Turner and save him from the swarms,” she said. “Why, Shail? Why do you protect such a man who killed your father and caused your capture?”
“Turner is not evil, but very protective. My father wanted to take Turner’s mate and daughter away. I can understand such anger if it were done to me. And I was a threat, wanting Kari. Fearing for her safety, he sought us, risking his own life. Though misguided, he is a good man. For many seasons he defended me and my harpies from hunters on his lands and tried to right a wrong by taking me from the hunting range. He has courage and honor. If I died, I asked him to protect my son, knowing he would not fail. For these reasons I want him alive.”
She placed her hands around his head. “Never again will I question your leadership. You are wise and fair. Despite all your suffering, you still see the truth.”
“Am I a good ruler?” Shail said. “I chose to let the beetles flourish, and now innocent humans are dead. I shall never rest easy with such a decision.”
“You did not choose their deaths, only to drive them from the land,” she said. “The beetles changed things, and the blame lies with the humans. If they had not killed the harpies and loca eagles, the humans would not face the swarms now. With the death of the last harpy, the swarms would have come. Your decision has saved your flock and the jungle.”
“Your words are true, but I feel no pride. I shall always be haunted by the faces of the compassionate women and children who gazed upon me at the hunting range. The hate had spared me from this remorse.” Shail stretched his wings and stared at his flock. “I must go to my males and give them confidence. The lights ahead shall be hard, and some of those males shall die when we attack the swarms.”
Shail hopped up on the balcony railing and extended his wings. The morning rays turned his creamy feathers into a bright gold. He glided down and landed among the brown heads and wings. Shail raised his head and walked through the crowd. Each harpy submissively lowered his head and moved out of his way, giving him a wide berth. He sensed their relief and high esteem for him.
Shail saw Ribot, the teenager who had found him at the range. The young male still held his golden flight feather. “You did good to spread my words, but a time of danger draws near. I do not want you among us when we fly into the swarms.”
“But, Master, I can fly very fast—faster than any here,” said Ribot.
An adult male seized the teen’s shoulder and shoved him to the ground. “Forgive my son,” he said and knelt. “He was raised in the east and has never seen a golden. He does not know his place.”
Shail leaned down and pulled up Ribot by his arm. “I am aware of his rude nature, but he has done me a great service by saving my mate. I now ask of his services again.” He turned to the teenager. “You can deliver my words and claim to fly fast. I shall send you on a great errand. Do you know the way to the mountains where my mate and others hide?”
Ribot’s face lit up. “I know it, Master. My mother and sisters are there.”
“Go swiftly and tell my mate that I am alive and free. She hopes for this important news. I shall come to her when swarms are gone and the land safe.”
Ribot extended his wings, and Shail placed his hand on the wing feathers. “Also tell her I love her.”
20
John held the two frightened fledglings and saw the first beetles enter the demolished vehicle by burrowing though a hole in the plastic floorboards. He plugged the hole with his shoe, but ten more holes soon formed. He heard a thump on the roof and then another. The beetles were scrambling off the transport, and light filtered into the darkened cab. Through a window, he saw the flash of brown feathers. A harpy bent down and gazed at him and then beckoned with his hand.
John slowly opened the door. Standing on the roof, Aron and two male harpies stared down at him. John reached back in the vehicle, grabbed the fledglings, and handed them to one of the males, who rapidly flew away with his precious cargo. John tried to climb out, avoiding the ground that was knee-deep in beetles. Aron and the other male grasped John’s arms and pulled him up to vehicle roof. Aron took a gluey sap from a large leaf and smeared it on John’s shoes and lower pants.
John saw the same green sap on the harpies’ feet. “This keeps the beetles off?” he asked.
Aron nodded and gestured toward the sky.
John returned the nod. “I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” Aron took ahold of one of John’s arms and the large older male grabbed the other. The harpies furiously flapped their wings and lifted John into the air. With the beetles beneath, they traveled north over the blackened buildings. John literally had a bird’s-eye view of the destruction. Hampton was under siege, and no section or neighborhood had been spared from the black death. John wondered how long Aron and the other harpy could carry him. Surely they didn’t have the wing strength to take him to the mountains.
In the distance John spotted colorful trees and below recognized the northbound road that led to the governor’s estate. He saw the white mansion surrounded by the vast park. The building had been spared from the swarms. Flying into view, he understood why. Hundreds of harpies covered the grounds beyond the front doors. As Aron and the harpy descended on the mansion, John glanced back at Hampton. The capital of Dora would soon be gone.
* * *
Shail spoke with the flock leaders to coordinate the attack on the beetles. More and more males were arriving after their long flights over the continent. The harpy gathering was steadily growing.
A harpy flew in carrying two small fledglings. He landed near Shail and set the fledglings on the ground. “Seth, my flock leader, and a harpy named Aron soon come,” he relayed to Shail. “They bring a man called Turner. We saved him from the swarms as he saved these fledglings.”
Shail glanced at the twin male fledglings nestled under another male’s wings. The male licked and cuddled them and was obviously their father. “Turner saved them?” Shail asked.
“He took them out of the hunting range,” the male relayed.
Shail knew why Turner had gone to the range, and it was not to save fledglings. Unaware that Shail had left, Turner had co
me to free him. Over the treetops Aron and a harpy appeared holding a man. Their frantically flapping wings showed that they struggled with the big man’s weight. They fluttered over the building steps and set Turner down on his feet.
* * *
“Thanks, Aron,” John said, and Aron nodded before flying away. Walking up the steps, John approached the front door and knocked. A man opened the door, and John recognized him from the previous com call.
“Mr. Turner,” the man said with surprise. “You kept your appointment.”
John shook his head at the pencil pusher. “Yes, the city is falling down around our ears, but I keep my appointments.” He walked inside. “Now where is Henry? There isn’t much time.”
A beautiful woman in a white gown entered the foyer. “Time for what, John Turner?” she asked.
“Didn’t this idiot deliver my message last night?” John growled. “There’s a golden harpy who can stop the swarms, but he’s been taken on a spaceship. The governor can order the return of that ship.”
“Governor Blake can’t help you. He died three days ago,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want this golden for his wings? You’ve already killed two golden harpies and nearly three others.”
“I don’t want his wings,” John said, “and I’ve only killed one harpy. Anyway, who are you?”
“I am Henry’s wife, and you are a liar,” she said bitterly.
John realized it was a lie. He had killed Shail’s father and his wife—both golden harpies—and he’d nearly killed his own daughter and Shail. Who was this fifth golden harpy? He stared into her brilliant blue eyes that seemed to peer into his mind. “How do you know if I’ve killed two or ten goldens?”
“She is harpy and my mother, Turner,” answered a soft male voice.
John wheeled around and saw Shail standing in the doorway with Aron. “Thank God, you’re okay.” The piece of the puzzle came together and he turned to Shail’s mother. “You’re the fifth golden and the anonymous high bidder of the auction.”
“I am,” she answered. “I almost died when you killed my mate, but Henry saved me, and I bought Shail’s freedom. I never would allow my son to suffer the same fate as his father.”
John lowered his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry to both you and Shail.”
Shail approached John. “Let us not dwell in these past regrets, for I, too, am guilty. Though I chose not to harm, I unleashed the swarms, and they caused all to perish in the city. It is a heavy burden to carry.”
“They’re not dead, Shail,” John said. “The people are hiding in the metal spaceport. There isn’t much food, but once the swarms leave, they should be okay.”
“With the smell of so much flesh, swarms shall stay until they find a way in. All those humans shall die,” Shail said. He turned and gazed out the door at his harpies, faced with the decision to save the humans or let them die.
John watched Kari’s streamlined mate wrestle with his uncertainty. He lightly paced across the smooth floor. Abused and raped, Shail had good reason not to save the humans who had slaughtered his harpies for years, and once the humans were saved, harpy hunting could continue. John walked to the handsome golden male. “Shail, I understand why you shouldn’t destroy the swarms and save those people. If I were you, I honestly don’t know if I would lift a finger to help them, but most of those people are good and would never hurt a harpy.”
“If only women, children, and good men dwelled in the port, I would protect them,” Shail said, “but the senators who long to kill us are there, and the hunters who want our wings. If I let all die, only I shall suffer the grief of my decision. If I save them, my flock shall suffer. I must first think of my harpies and let the beetles do their work. The hunting ends with the humans’ death.”
Dr. Watkins entered the room. “There’s another way to end the hunting without those people dying,” he said and held up the disc containing the old captain’s log. “It’s solid proof that harpies are a race related to humans, and I have the DNA evidence to back it. The harpies can’t be hunted as game animals any longer.”
Shail stared at Dr. Watkins. “I am no fool, Watkins. Those senators who make your human laws have known for many seasons that harpies carry human blood but have lied about us, so the hunting would continue. I do not trust them. To save themselves, the senators would lie again, saying the hunting stops, but once saved, they would allow the killing of harpies. There is little honor among humans.”
“He makes a good point,” John said to Watkins and turned to Shail. “You told me I had honor and asked me to protect your son. Do you trust me?”
“I do,” Shail said. “You are a man of your word and a great protector.”
“Then let me try to protect those people and your harpies,” John said. “There’s a way that both can be done. Right now you control the lives of everyone on the planet. That’s power, Shail. If used wisely, the power can give you what you want. I could go to the port with your demands, and Dr. Watkins could bring proof that harpies are gentle mortals, not dangerous animals. This proof exposes the senators and their lies. That’s what the senators have always feared. The senate could be bypassed, and the people in the port hold a majority of the planet’s population. Those people could vote on the laws and a treaty that ends harpy hunting and grant your flock equal human rights. I think you should also ask for your own land, say the outback and the islands. Your jungle trees and animals would also be protected from men. I’m a businessman, Shail, and I’d look out for your interests, making sure you got a fair shake.”
“It sounds fair,” Shail said, “but laws and treaties can be changed and broken. I have seen men’s greed and watched one man kill two others, breaking your human laws.”
John nodded. “There’re always a few men who don’t respect our laws and could harm your harpies, but if caught, these men would face a cage. When you save the humans, they’ll be very grateful to the harpies, and they know you hold the power of the swarms. If betrayed, you can unleash the beetles again.”
Shail glanced down at his damaged wrists, cut from resisting the bondages of shackles and chains. “I vowed my son would never suffer as I have,” he said quietly. “My hate for humans slowly fades, but it is still there. It lies in wait, waiting to be called back with a vengeance that would slay all humans, but Turner, your words hold wisdom and have given me choices. I must go and think of this decision that frees or destroys my flock and spares or kills the humans.” He walked to the open doorway.
Aron approached Shail at the threshold. “I shall go with you,” he relayed.
“No, the decision is mine alone,” Shail relayed.
Aron wrapped his arms around Shail’s neck and nuzzled him. “May your choice be wise.”
Watkins stood next to John as Shail spread his wings and flew from the mansion. “He knew all about the senators, our laws, and human nature,” said Watkins. “I never dreamed that harpies were equally intelligent to men.”
“Equal?” John said, and watched Kari’s young husband disappear beyond the treetops. “With a harpy’s instincts, they surpass men. The humans have been fortunate all these years that they dealt with passive mortals who chose to run rather than fight, but Shail is not like other harpies. That plucky golden male is fearless, and he’s been badly abused, giving him good reason to wipe out humans. If I were him, I wouldn’t have the compassion to save those people. I’d tell mankind to go to hell.”
* * *
Soaring along the border between the city of Hampton and the jungle, Shail glanced to the left of his wing and saw massive swarms quickly consuming the buildings. In the distance he distinguished the large doomed port, heavily cloaked with beetles. Similar to bees drawn to honey, they sought a way through the metal to get at the humans. The highway’s inns, stores, and small towns brought many swarms that followed the bread crumbs rapidly east. Shail had planned to slow the beetle’s pace and let the humans flee on ships to the stars, but he was captured, and the harp
y river gathering fell apart, allowing the swarms to move at will. With no time to escape, the vast majority of the humans were trapped with ocean at their backs.
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.
