by Perrin Briar
Greisha shook her head.
“This is wrong,” she said.
“And yet I’m going to do it anyway,” Sturgess said.
“If you’re going to do this, you’d better not do it alone,” Greisha said. “Better to share the blame if you can.”
“So you’re giving me your blessing?” Sturgess said.
“Is there any point in trying to stop you?” Greisha said.
“No,” Sturgess said with a grin, and wrapped his arms around his wife. “But it helps that you’ve got my back, as always.”
“Forever and always,” Greisha said.
21.
NEITHER CASSIE nor Aaron would leave the chick’s side. They couldn’t, not if they wanted to stand a chance of survival against the fully grown Humungos. The problem was, the parent birds never left the hatchling alone either, nor their other eggs, after their first had been swiped from under their beaks. They had no intention of losing the rest of the hatchlings the same way.
But that didn’t stop Cassie from making plans to take possession of the rest of the hatchlings herself, to build up her defenses. They would need to marshall their resources if they were to be successful in distracting the parent bird on duty, so they might get in close enough to whisper the magic ‘wark’ password in the hatchlings’ ear and bypass the tens of thousands of years of evolution and hijack the creatures.
Their giant chick had a small tuft of purple feathers on the top of his head. He leaned down and rubbed it against Aaron, who ran his fingers through the thin plumage.
“He’s not so bad,” Aaron said, scratching the chick behind the neck.
“He’ll get bigger,” Cassie said. “Try not to get too attached. We’re out of here the first chance we get.”
“I know,” Aaron said, before grinning like an idiot and scratching the chick’s belly.
Each time the parents attempted to lure the chick away, Cassie and Aaron were on hand to keep the chick with them. The parents eventually gave up attempting to get their kid back. In truth, Cassie suspected they knew the chick would eventually return to them anyway. There were too many differences between Aaron and the chick for it not to realize the truth one day.
But it hadn’t realized yet. Aaron and Cassie gave what little food they had to the little chick. There was little else they could offer, but that, along with a whole lot of love and affection, appeared to be enough. For now.
It worked like a charm, and the little chick ignored its biological parents. Cassie kept a close eye on the eggs, on how the cracks were forming, how they were weakening. Once they hatched, Cassie had no idea what would transpire. But it likely wouldn’t be in their favor.
“You know we can’t rely on your little chick forever?” Cassie said. “Once his brothers and sisters wake up he’ll realize there’s something wrong with him.”
“Not necessarily,” Aaron said.
“Yes, necessarily,” Cassie said. “And if he doesn’t follow them, they will attack him and kill him.”
“Why?” Aaron said. “He’s just a baby.”
“They’re wild animals,” Cassie said. “They don’t think like that.”
“You don’t know how they think,” Aaron said. “They’ve evolved differently down here than they have up on the surface.”
“They aren’t writing books or making movies,” Cassie said. “They haven’t developed that much. Evolution still operates down here, and nature still has a foothold on how things go.”
The bird is following Aaron, like he might really be his mother. Aaron puts his fingers down his throat.
“Are you choking?” Cassie said.
“No,” Aaron said, pressing his fingers down his throat again.
“Then what are you doing?” Cassie said.
“Making myself sick,” Aaron said, dry heaving.
“What for?” Cassie said.
“To feed Wayward,” Aaron said.
“Wayward?” Cassie said. “What’s that?”
Aaron nodded to the chick.
“You named it?” Cassie said.
“Everyone should have a name,” Aaron said.
“Why Wayward?” Cassie said.
“Because his eyes point in different directions,” Aaron said.
“This is a bad idea,” Cassie said.
“This whole thing is a bad idea,” Aaron said. “Anyway, I think he likes his name.”
He turned to the chick.
“Don’t you, Wayward?” he said.
“Don’t call him that,” Cassie said.
“Too late,” Aaron said.
Cassie clenched her fists and growled. Aaron choked on his fingers again.
“What are you doing now?” Cassie said.
“Feeding him,” Aaron said. “You said I need to regurgitate for him.”
“I was joking, you sicko!” Cassie said.
“Oh,” Aaron said. “I thought it was a good idea.”
He put his fingers to the back of his throat again.
“Will you stop doing that?” Cassie said.
“Wayward’s hungry,” Aaron said.
“So, give him some food!” Cassie said.
“I think he prefers his meals like this,” Aaron said.
“Mash it up,” Cassie said. “It’s practically the same. Here.”
She dropped to her knees and put some of their food in a bowl fashioned from the hood of a giant acorn, and set to mashing it up with a short thick stick, turning it into a paste.
Wayward crowded around, watching. He rested his chin on Cassie’s shoulder. Cassie shrugged him off. Wayward tweeted, moving to Cassie’s other side. He put his head on her shoulder again. Cassie sighed.
“I’m certain he’s yours,” she said. “He has your irritating traits.”
Finished, Cassie stood up and moved to an area of the nest they had designated as Wayward’s feeding location. She spooned the paste onto the floor of the nest. Wayward was on it before Cassie had time to shovel it all out.
“Wait a minute!” Cassie said.
But it was no good. Wayward knocked Cassie aside, sending her sprawling. He scooped the food up and straightened his neck. The food ran down his gullet. He ate like this until he’d eaten it all.
“He’ll get big fast,” Cassie said.
“There’s no time to waste in this place, I guess,” Aaron said. “You get big and strong fast, or you die.”
“But this has to be some kind of record,” Cassie said. “He only hatched a day ago.”
“I saw a documentary about gazelles,” Aaron said. “They take a day to learn to stand, and the next day they can run faster than a racehorse.”
“Wayward isn’t a gazelle,” Cassie said.
“But the same ability to grow fast might still work,” Aaron said. “All it takes is the right stimulus.”
“We’ll be able to fly away on him at this rate,” Cassie said.
She blinked. Sometimes the best ideas came from the blue. She turned to look at Aaron.
“We could fly him away from here!” she said.
“Not for some time, I should think,” Aaron said.
“Will you let me have this moment of self delusion, please?” Cassie said. “Thanks.”
“Self delusion doesn’t help anyone,” Aaron said. “That’s what Mrs. Fletcher used to say.”
“It helps me,” Cassie said.
It felt strange to think about a teacher from the surface. Cassie wondered what she was doing at that moment. Maybe she was marking papers, tests, or preparing more classes. It might have been the middle of the night and she was fast asleep. But none of that mattered much to Cassie. It did her good to think of the surface, of the life she had inhabited, the kind of person she had been. So petty, small minded and superficial. She didn’t know where that girl went, but she knew she wasn’t present any longer.
Cassie and Aaron were alone. They had to rely on themselves if they were to get out of there. But how?
22.
“GET DOW
N!” Zoe said.
“What for?” Bryan said.
“Just do it!” Zoe said.
Bryan frowned and turned to look around. Zoe reached up and dragged him down.
“Hey!” Bryan said. “So I’m down. Now what?”
“Now we creep and peek over the side to see if it’s still there,” Zoe said.
“If what’s still there?” Bryan said. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”
Zoe didn’t. She crawled on her hands and knees to peer over the side of the mound they were hidden behind, careful not to raise her head too far. When Bryan looked over the side, he immediately lowered his head back down again.
“It’s one of the big birds,” Bryan said.
“Yes,” Zoe said.
“What is it doing here?” Bryan said.
“Why don’t you go ask it?” Zoe said. “Who cares what it’s here for? It’s here. That’s all that matters.”
“Is it one of the ones that took the kids, do you think?” Bryan said.
“How should I know?” Zoe said. “But it might be able to lead us back to wherever their nests are.”
“So what do we do now?” Bryan said.
“We do what it tried to do to us before,” Zoe said.
“We carry it away?” Bryan said.
“We catch it,” Zoe said, exasperated. “And then we ride it, or at least get it to lead us to its nest.”
“Sounds great,” Bryan said. “But how do you suggest we do that?”
“We leverage the element of surprise,” Zoe said. “We jump on it when it’s least expecting it.”
“But what does that look like in real life?” Bryan said. “In real, manageable steps?”
“It looks a lot like an ambush,” Zoe said after a moment’s thought. “Are you ready for this? We’ll get to our feet, run over the side and jump on it. It’ll be surprised and won’t respond quickly.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Bryan said.
They got to their knees, standing as high as they could under the circumstances, and looked at one another. They blew out a puff of air and then nodded. They got to their feet and ran over the bluff. They didn’t shout or scream, and only pumped their legs to run as fast as possible.
They were rounding the crest when the bird began to notice them. It was a little earlier than Zoe would have liked, and partially negated their advantage, but there was no way around that, except to run faster.
The large bird turned and flapped its wings. It didn’t know what it was doing, in a panic. It spun on the spot, its eyes wide and scared. It squawked and flapped its wings, turning tail. Zoe didn’t know if it was the same Humungo bird or not, one that had taken their babies, but she was willing to take the risk and follow it in any case.
They waved their arms. The bird did likewise. It was going to take off if they didn’t hurry. They needed to be quick if they wanted to get the drop on it. It had several large rocks in its mouth, scavenging amongst the ruins at its feet.
Zoe pushed herself hard, throwing her arms back and forth in a swinging motion, forcing her legs out as long as they were capable. She gained on the great lumbering beast. It was going to take off soon.
“No!” Zoe screamed as she threw herself forward.
She tried to grip the bird by the neck, missed, and couldn’t reach it. She grabbed it instead by the wing. The bird honked and turned its head to snap at her. Zoe pulled her head first one way, and then another in an attempt to escape its snapping jaws. It kicked and flapped to get loose, and each time it succeeded in pulling away, Zoe was there to pull it in again, getting it back under control.
She was going to lose control. And it would fly from her grasp. The bird was just too big and powerful. She couldn’t maintain her grip.
Bryan leapt and grabbed a length of vine from an overhanging tree branch. He pulled it free. He snapped it loose and looped one end, never breaking stride. He ran at the bird and tossed the slipknot over its head to its collarbone and pulled. The rope caught and pulled tight. The bird was big and kicked Zoe and Bryan away with its thick feet.
The bird flapped its great wings and began to pull away. The rope slipped through Bryan’s hands. He gripped tight, hands snapping around the last inch of rope. The rope pulled up vertical. Bryan grunted as he rose off the ground, floating like he had his own set of wings. The bird squawked, shunting back, but only flapped harder.
Zoe chased after Bryan, grabbing at his legs. She could only reach his pants. They pulled down as the bird pulled away. Bryan couldn’t hold on any longer, daren’t hold on, or else get carried away like the kids had been. He let go, and fell to the ground.
Zoe was following close behind, trailing the rope. She tripped on Bryan and fell over him.
They looked up to see the bird flap and rise into the darkening sky.
23.
THE LATEST shipment of Gravitas was prepared, piled high on the delivery platform. It would rise into the sky at midnight, to deliver to the Merchant’s warehouse. None of the miners had ever seen the warehouse, but they all imagined a huge facility with thousands of workers picking over their findings.
This haul had been organized by Sturgess himself. He’d altered it in such a way as to provide him with a small space to hide. It was large enough for half a dozen miners, but he wasn’t yet sure who would be joining him.
The platform was the only piece of Gravitas they had that they didn’t need to send to the Merchants. It was square and flat with no distinguishing marks. It was large, twenty-five yards square. Every week or two the village would stack their haul of Gravitas onto it and it would automatically rise into the sky at the stroke of midnight. It would float into the sky, rising ever higher until it was lost from view, and then it would return again by the next morning.
What the Merchants used Gravitas for, none of the miners knew. There were rumors, of course. How wild the rumors were depended on who you spoke to. That was one reason why Sturgess, when he called the secret meeting, had been careful not to invite the more unstable personalities. Despite all their complaints, they would fight to the teeth to protect the lifestyle they had. When you had very little, you tended to try to protect what you did have.
The team leaders gathered in the mine after hours, away from prying eyes. If anyone was going to do anything, it was from within this room. Looking around now, it was difficult for Sturgess to envision these men and women picking up the mantel. There were even one or two he thought might even make things difficult for him.
“So, what are we here for?” Old Man Marley said.
“I’ve called a meeting,” Sturgess said.
“That much we can see, thanks,” Old Man Marley said.
They had to keep their voices down, for fear of attracting attention. Only Old Man Marley, with his natural croaky voice, didn’t have to alter how he spoke. Of all the team leaders, Old Man Marley held the greatest sway. It was him the others listened to when there was any doubt. His years of experience had led them well in the past, and they all assumed his instincts would continue to do so in the future too. But what they faced now wasn’t a cave-in or a stubborn rock no one else could shift. This was about something greater, the world, and Sturgess didn’t know if Old Man Marley could see that far.
“Times are tough,” Sturgess said. “It’s getting harder and harder to harvest Gravitas, harder and harder to meet our quota, and we have to dig deeper and deeper to get it. It’s resulting in this magma being released into the world, and one of these days it’s going to be too much. It’s going to burst, drowning us.”
“Poppycock,” Old Man Marley said. “It’s never happened before. Why should it happen now?”
“Because it is already happening,” Sturgess said. “And has been for a long time. You know I’m right. You’ve all seen the warning signs. We have to try. We have to do something. We can’t go on like this. We can’t live this way, knowing what we’re doing to this world, knowing we’re destroying the only home we have, the only way w
e can survive. And yet we’re doing it anyway, because we fear those who we work for. But they don’t care about us, what happens to us. They likely don’t even know what’s happening here.”
“What would you intend on doing?” Old Man Marley said.
“We tell them the way things are down here, how we’re suffering,” Sturgess said. “We won’t have much of a world if we don’t stop. And they won’t get anything back from it either. No more Gravitas.”
“We’ve told them what it’s like down here before,” Old Man Marley said. “And look where that got us.”
“Key,” Sturgess said. “He tried to speak to them, to warn them, about what was happening down here. We all stood and watched him do it, speaking to the Merchants’ guards.”
“And we all saw what happened to him because of it,” Old Man Marley said. “My daughter still has nightmares about it.”
So did Sturgess, but not for the same reason as Old Man Marley’s daughter.
“We should have stood up for him,” Sturgess said. “We should have been his axe, should have defended him when he needed us. We’re strong, brave people. We go into the darkness where others fear to tread, we break boulders and destroy mountains. But we lack the courage to stand up to our oppressors. We need to rebel.”
Upon the word ‘rebel’, all the team leaders burst out, speaking at once, running over one another. Half were for the motion, the other half against. Sturgess raised his hands to quieten them, but they were too busy in their heated debate. Only Old Man Marley said nothing. He sat thinking deeply, eyes focused on Sturgess.
Finally he stood up, and the others quietened down. He directed himself at Sturgess.
“And what’s to stop them from doing to us what they did to Key?” he said.
“When was the last time we saw the guards?” Sturgess said. “When was the last time they were here?”
“That doesn’t mean they don’t see us,” Old Man Marley said. “They have ways.”
“Then they will come down to meet us, and we will speak to them,” Sturgess said.
“And if they don’t?” Old Man Marley said.