Flight of the Golden Harpy

by Susan Klaus

  Senator Blackwell was standing by the exit door. As John and Kari approached, he reached out and petted her head. “Poor little thing, she could die of depression when her mate is killed. I understand why you wanted the stud, John. You’d own the last golden breeding pair. I’ll give you a million for the female and take the risk of losing her.”

  John leered at Blackwell. “Get your stinking hand off of her,” he growled, fighting the temptation to sock the senator.

  Blackwell backed out of reach, seeing John’s temper. “I take it she’s not for sale,” he said as John and Kari passed through the door. “Well, you’d better keep her on a short leash,” he called. “She’s an animal and fair game to all.”

  Kari had announced to the worst harpy hunters in the galaxy that the golden male was her husband. Many like Senator Blackwell knew she was a female harpy. In seconds she had recklessly tossed away her human rights and become a game animal. John hurried her out of the hunting range.

  * * *

  Bill Simpson spoke into the microphone while John and Kari walked outside. “Gentlemen, please. You know how male harpies affect women. The ladies lose their minds and blubber over these pretty males. We plan to stock our range with harpies, and hope you’ll all return for an exciting hunt.”

  Most of the crowd ignored Bill’s comments and focused on the male harpy. Once the girl had left, he curled up and covered himself with feathers almost as if he were mourning.

  Bill went to his cage and tapped the bars with his rod. “Get up!” he yelled. The harpy paid no heed of him and lay quietly. “He’s upset he couldn’t rape that girl.” He saw the men, his future customers, didn’t buy his explanation for the subdued harpy. He whispered toward the harpy, knowing it understood English. “It obvious she’s not a woman, but your harpy mate.”

  Shail lifted his head, incensed.

  “I bet she’s pregnant,” Bill went on. “It would be worth a trip to the Turner Estate to snatch her.”

  Shail sprang up and crashed against the bars.

  Bill had moved out of reach expecting his response. “I can’t wait to hang you,” he said. “Then I’ll get your female. Every time I fuck her, I’ll think of you.”

  With all other men out of earshot, Shail spoke to Bill. “You shall soon be dead and unable to touch her.” He lowered himself in the bedding.

  * * *

  The crowd left the room and wandered out into the night. Shail watched them leave and bitterly thought, When they seek me in the range, many shall die.

  George came up to his cage. “I wish I could give you back to the girl. She really loves you.”

  Shail moved closer to the bars, so George could pet him. The other employees were busy folding chairs and hauling them away. Shail stared up at George with indecision while the man stroked his hair. “You are very kind,” Shail said softly. “I shall return this kindness with a warning.”

  George’s eyes widened. “Simpson was right. You can speak.”

  “Hear my words and heed their warning: The swarms soon come to this city and all here shall die. I do not want you among them. Travel this darkness to the northern mountains.” Shail plucked a small feather from his wing and handed it to George. “Show this to the harpies and tell them you have my protection. They shall help you.”

  George took the feather. “You told Bill he would be killed in a few days. Is this what you meant?”

  “Yes. Do not linger with the knowledge and warning I give you. The swarms shall come within two lights.”

  “Thank you.” George glanced around at the men. “I wish I could get you out of here.”

  “Knowing I have saved a worthy man heals my black heart. It is thanks enough.”

  George nodded and patted his shoulder.

  Seeing the old guard pet the harpy, one guard called, “George, are you friends with that creature?”

  George removed his hand from the cage. “Yes. Tell Simpson, I quit.” He walked toward the front doors.

  * * *

  A well-dressed man stopped George in the doorway. “Excuse me,” said the middle-aged man. “Can you tell me where I can find Mr. Simpson?”

  George pointed. “He’s the big guy with the cattle prod,” he grumbled and left the building.

  The man walked through the room toward Bill. “Mr. Simpson, I’m the agent representing the highest bidder. You received the faxed credit voucher, but I need to examine the harpy and get his paperwork in order for shipping.”

  “Shipping?” Bill said. “You mean your client isn’t hunting the harpy here?”

  “No, sir,” the agent said. “My client has his own private range. As soon as I certify that the creature is healthy, he’ll be loaded into a truck outside.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Bill said. “This harpy has to be hunted at my range. He’s very dangerous, and we know how to handle him.”

  “Apparently your handling is inadequate. The harpy managed to injure and kill several men, one of whom was your brother. I’m sorry for your loss, but we’re perfectly capable of dealing with wild animals. Furthermore, I’ve read your purchase agreement. There are no clauses that state the harpy must be hunted at your range. Now, if you please, I’m rather anxious to move him. It’s a long journey to the other planet.”

  “Fine,” Bill growled. “I’ll be happy to get rid of the murdering little bastard.”

  In his office, Bill transferred the ownership papers into the agent’s name and left for the large room. By the display cage, two men stood with a narrow shipping cage with padded bars.

  “He’s wearing a shock collar,” Bill said and pulled a remote out of his pocket as he and the agent neared the harpy cage. “I’ll set it to high and knock him down. It’s the only way to get near him.”

  “That’s not necessary. One of my men brought in a stun gun. It’s less painful and traumatic compared to an electric shock, and I have a heart stimulant in case of an adverse affect. After he’s stunned, he’ll be kept on tranquilizers. For three million credits, the harpy can’t be stressed or injured.”

  Shail nervously paced, studying his new adversary. He saw the narrow shipping cage and the small gun.

  The agent gazed up at the moody harpy that light-footedly pranced back and forth, constantly extending and ruffling its wings to threaten. “So this is a golden harpy,” the agent said. “He’s exquisite, absolutely stunning.” The harpy hissed at him. “He’s also flamboyant; definitely not a coward. His new owner will be very pleased.” He retrieved a small stun gun and pointed it at the harpy.

  Shail froze and sniffled at the weapon. Kari had taught him about guns, and when the man pulled the trigger, Shail plunged into the straw. The stunner hit a bar behind him.

  Bill laughed. “Hope his new owner has better aim than you. You’re lucky he’s caged.”

  Shail sprang to his feet and angrily seethed.

  “He is very fast,” said the agent and carefully took aim again.

  Shail jumped sideways and the stun hit his feathers. He felt the numb prick through the feather veins. He shook his hair with animosity.

  “He’s watching when I pull the trigger,” said the agent. “He’s not only quick, but smart.” The agent moved closer to the bars, ensuring his next shot would hit the elusive creature.

  The man was close enough, and Shail dove at the bars, grabbing the man’s hand and weapon. Shail twisted the wrist to retrieve the weapon, but he suddenly felt the full voltage of the electrical collar that sapped his neck. He let go of the weapon and fell in the straw, tossing and rolling with pain. He frantically pulled on the collar as powerful shocks ravaged his body. He curled up in a tight ball, gasping, and the hurt forced tears to run down his cheeks. This is the end, he thought before falling unconscious.

  The agent saw the harpy and turned to Bill. “Stop!” he screamed. “You’re killing him.”

  Bill smiled and released the remote key. “Thought you could handle him?” He smirked.

  “Open the cage!” shouted the
agent. A guard unlocked it, and the agent scrambled in and knelt by the comatose harpy. “You damn fool!” he raged, examining the precious animal. “You nearly stopped his heart.”

  “Mister, I saved your life,” said Bill. “That harpy had you and the gun. I wasn’t taking any chances.”

  “Let’s get him out of this wretched place,” said the agent to his two men. Shail was placed in the small cage and loaded into the waiting transport truck. The truck drove down the wet streets and disappeared around a corner.

  * * *

  Kari and John walked toward the small park. Ted and Charlie followed in silence. There was no more to say. When they reached the hover, a dark shadow stepped from a cluster of trees. Kari broke free of her father’s sheltering arm and ran to Aron. She hugged him and cried. There was no need to explain that she had failed to free Shail.

  Aron held Kari and glanced with distress at the hunting range. She detected Aron’s thoughts and frustrations. Shail was so close, but so far. Aron turned away from the range and looked down at her. “You must leave, Kari,” he relayed. “Shail’s fate is out of your hands.” He sniffled toward the trees, and two male harpies emerged from the dark, keeping some space from the men. “Have the metal bird follow these harpies. They shall lead you to sanctuary in the northern mountains.”

  “We must follow the harpies now,” Kari said to her father.

  “She’ll be safe?” John asked.

  Aron made a slight nod.

  “Kari, you and Charlie will go in the hover with the harpies,” John said. “I’ll stay and get Shail out.”

  “How?” asked Kari.

  John shook his head. “If there weren’t so many guards, I’d break in and take him, but there might be a better way. The governor, Henry Blake, and I were once friends. I believe I can convince him to release Shail. The high bidder was off-planet, and I doubt he’ll hunt or ship Shail until tomorrow. If I can contact Henry tonight, I’ll have enough time.”

  Charlie stepped forward. “John, don’t build her hopes. Tell her of this governor.”

  John sighed. “Like I said, we were once friends, but we parted ways when I banned harpy hunting on the estate ten years ago. Henry called and voiced his disapproval, and our words were heated, but he knows me, Kari, and knows I don’t lie. He’ll believe me when I tell him that only Shail can stop the swarms and save the human population.”

  “But the swarms will be here soon, Dad,” Kari said. “I couldn’t bear to lose Shail and you.”

  “Have a little faith in your old man,” John said. “The swarms won’t get me, and I promised to save your mate. Besides I couldn’t run off like a coward and leave Shail and all these people behind to face the swarms.”

  Kari hugged her father. “Please be careful, Dad. I love you and don’t blame you anymore for what has happened. I know you chose not to hurt Shail.”

  John sighed. “I can’t forgive myself. You’re my whole life, Kari, and I want you to have the same happiness I shared with your mother.” He pulled away from her. “Now you must go.”

  Charlie approached John. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I’m old, but still handy with a weapon.”

  “No, Charlie, just take good care of my baby,” John said and shook his hand.

  Kari kissed Ted on the cheek and thanked him before she climbed into the hovercraft with Charlie. The rain had stopped, and a cool wind blew through the little park. Steering the hover, Charlie forced it up into the starry sky. The two harpies spread their long wings and leaped into the air. They flew north over the doomed city with the hover on their heels; its headlights flooded their chocolate wings.

  * * *

  John, Ted, and Aron watched the hover lights slowly disappear. John stepped in front of Aron and Ted. “If something happens to Shail and me, I am asking both of you to protect Kari and help her raise her son. My grandson will be both harpy and man, and he should know about both races. You two are the best of role models.” John placed his hand on Ted’s shoulder. “This man is called Ted,” he said to Aron. “He is a good man and will be a friend to the harpies. And Ted, this brown harpy is Aron. He has faithfully guarded Kari. I gave Shail my word that I would look after his son. I’m asking the same promise of you.”

  Aron looked at Ted, the man who would take Turner’s place if he died. Aron lowered his head to Turner in agreement.

  “Sure, Mr. Turner,” Ted said. “You know I would do anything for Kari and her kid.”

  “Good, good.” John glanced at Ted’s late-model terrain vehicle. “Does your com work in that vehicle?”

  “It works,” Ted answered.

  John walked to the vehicle, opened the driver-side door, and sat down in the seat. He flipped on the com. “The governor’s mansion,” he said to the operator.

  A man appeared on the screen. “Governor’s residence.”

  “My name is John Turner. It’s imperative I speak with Governor Blake tonight.”

  “What does it concern?” the man asked.

  “I have information the swarms will soon strike Hampton, but there’s a way to prevent it. I need the governor’s cooperation, and it must be done tonight.”

  “One moment; I’ll see if he’s available to take your call,” the man said. After a few minutes, the man returned to the screen. “You are the same John Turner who owns the Turner timber estate in the outback?”

  “Yes,” John answered.

  “He has given you an appointment for ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s too late,” John said. “There’s a golden harpy that can stop the swarms, but his head is on the chopping block. I have to talk to Henry now.”

  “A harpy?” The man smirked. “I’m sorry, Mr. Turner, your appointment is tomorrow or not at all.”

  “This is an emergency.” John yelled.

  “Good night, Mr. Turner.” The communication shut down.

  Ted was leaning against the outside of the vehicle when John climbed out. “Where is Aron?” John asked.

  “He took off,” Ted said.

  John thought for a moment. “The spaceport is the only metal building in Hampton that the beetles can’t devour, but it’ll take some securing. If the inside dome is cleared of cargo, ships, and equipment, it is big enough to hold the residents of the city. Let’s go.”

  “You really believe the swarms are coming?”

  “Harpies are as honest as the day is long. If they say the swarms are coming, it’s fact. There isn’t much time.”

  John and Ted climbed into the vehicle and were soon racing through the dark streets toward the spaceport.

  Arriving at the port, they parked and ran inside. Ted hurried to a group of men working the graveyard shift. He explained that Mr. Turner had absolute proof that the swarms were coming to Hampton and might strike by the next day.

  “Ted, we have no authority to move those big freighters outside along with all the cargo,” said an employee.

  “Fine, just stay out of my way,” said Ted. “I’ll move them. I have a ground pilot license to move ships to the landing strip.”

  A supervisor walked toward them. “What is this, break time? We’re behind schedule as it is.”

  “Ted says the swarms are coming tomorrow and wants us to move the ships and cargo out and prepare the dome,” said a man.

  “Is he drunk?” asked the supervisor “Get your ass out of here, Ted. You’re not on the clock. Furthermore—”

  John cut in on the supervisor’s tongue-lashing unleashed on Ted. “May I talk to you alone?”

  The man huffed and walked aside with John.

  “I have reliable information that the swarms will be here tomorrow or the next day.” John pulled a piece of paper from his pants pocket. “This is a bank voucher for two and a half million credits. If I’m wrong, the money is yours for all your trouble, but if I’m right, we’re going to save a lot of lives with the work we do here tonight. What’s it going to be?”

  The supervisor examined the vou
cher and glanced up, studying John’s face. “This is a lot of money. You’re either crazy or serious.”

  “Try dead serious,” John said.

  “All right, mister,” said the supervisor. “We’ll prepare the port for an attack, and I’ll call in the day shift and other supervisors. We’ll move the ships and lumber stacks outside and reinforce the wooden doors and sliders with metal. The air ventilation and water flow will need protecting. This is an all-night job.”

  “I figured as much,” said John. “You won’t regret it.”

  Thirty men frantically worked throughout the night on the port, and as dawn broke, the place was secured. The supervisor rushed out of an office toward John. “Mr. Turner, you were right. The first satellite report just came in, and there’re massive swarms a hundred miles west and on a collision course with Hampton. The alarm is going out, and I’ve notified the authorities that we’ve secured the spaceport. How did you know?”

  “The harpies warned me,” John said.

  The supervisor frowned at him.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but true,” said John. “The people of Hampton owe their lives to the winged hosts of Dora.”

  In droves, the panicked town people arrived at the doomed port. If the swarms stayed on their present course and speed, the satellites estimated their time of arrival in Hampton would be midmorning, but men and equipment were hardly capable of predicting the intentions of an insect. Only a creature, in tune with nature like a harpy, could prophesize the beetles’ movement.

  John watched the swarm reports on wall monitors, but suddenly the monitors and lights went out. People screamed in the dark, eerie building. “Relax, everyone,” said a booming man’s voice. “The generators will kick in shortly.” In a minute the lights came on, and people quieted down.

  Ted came up to John. “The solar generator came on,” he said. “That means a swarm must’ve taken out the windmill power station. That’s only twenty-five miles south, on the coast.”

  “Ted, I need to borrow a hovercraft,” John said. “Your vehicle is useless. The roads are jammed. I’ve been waiting for the governor to show up here, but even if he does, he’ll be too late to help Shail. I have to get to the hunting range. Most of the range security guards will be gone, saving their own hides.”