

Blue Dawn Jay of Aves

by

Gary J. Davies

Published by Gary J. Davies at Smashwords

Blue Dawn Jay of Aves

Copyright 2013 Gary J. Davies

Smashwords Edition License Notes

Thank you for downloading this science fiction e-book. This book is the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be copied or reproduced without the written consent of the author.

With the exception of certain authorized library distributions, this e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com (or affiliated authorized e-book distributor) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This novel is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to places, events or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to my wife Susan, who puts up with my time consuming hobbies, to my daughter/novice birder Kristin and my music and book loving daughter Kimberly, and to my favorite author James P. Blaylock for his enchanting early elven fantasy novels. Also I thank William Shatner for his inspiring writing efforts; I reason that if he can write novels, so can anyone else. Special thanks to my artist-brother Robert Davies for help with the cover. Thanks also to Microsoft for their spell-checker; which enables the formation of recognizable words even by engineers. Finally, I express greatest thanks to the amazing birds of Earth for inspiring this particular novel. Sing and fly free, birds of Earth!

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CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1: THE QUEST FOR SONG FLAME

CHAPTER 2: KATE ON AVES

CHAPTER 3: BROWNIE

CHAPTER 4: JOHN AND THE ROC

CHAPTER 5: RESEARCH BEGINS

CHAPTER 6: FLIGHT

CHAPTER 7: RAPTORS

CHAPTER 8: STORIES AT THE ROC

CHAPTER 9: TALONS AND BEAKS

CHAPTER 10: RAPTOR'S DEN

CHAPTER 11: ATTACK

CHAPTER 12: A NEW QUEST

CHAPTER 13: SCOURGE

CHAPTER 14: RESCUE

CHAPTER 15: STRANGE CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 16: FLIGHT TO SONG WOOD

CHAPTER 17: THE OLD ONE AT COUNCIL

CHAPTER 18: WORMS THREATEN

CHAPTER 19: PREPARATIONS

CHAPTER 20: THE BATTLE FOR AVES

CHAPTER 21: NEW BEGINNINGS

About the Author and Pending Novels

INTRODUCTION

Why did I write this book? I make no claim to be a birder; I've seen actual birder naturalists in action and respect and marvel at their superior bird knowledge and bird observation skills. I do however harbor a great deal of wonder, awe, and affection for birds, such that writing a novel based on these amazing creatures was highly compelling. From the perspective of clumsy, pampered, Earth-bound humans, birds are incredible!

Wikipedia indicates that Birds (class Aves) are feathered, winged, bipedal, endothermic (warm-blooded), egg-laying, vertebrate animals with around 10,000 living species, and that the fossil record indicates that birds emerged within theropod dinosaurs during the Jurassic period, around 150 million years ago. Thus it is argued that strictly speaking birds ARE dinosaurs, not merely dinosaur descendants. So perhaps a novel with 'dinosaur-sized' birds is not much of a stretch after all, since even normal Earth birds are already dinosaur sized by definition. However some serious anatomical redesign was necessary in this novel for them to plausibly be giant-sized, sentient, and flight-capable.

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CHAPTER 1

THE QUEST FOR SONG FLAME

In the dim gray of the early dawn, before the dual-orbs of blazing yellow fire that brighten the World had yet been sung into direct view by waking songbirds, Blue Dawn Jay flew high over the dense, misty, Southern Forest. In the thick, cool, damp air he glided down to treetop level, boldly daring to cross the hunting territories of both the lingering raptors of night and the emerging raptors of day.

The rising suns were already producing nearly as much illumination as a still visible moon and countless twinkling stars, such that there was finally enough light for Blue to clearly perceive individual trees and tree branches. Shifting strong, young, outstretched feathered wings to convert more forward motion to vertical, he soared slightly higher to gracefully land atop the tallest and grandest great oak in the immediate area, where he brazenly perched upon the uppermost branch sturdy enough to bear his weight. There, with senses honed sharp by a dozen season-cycles of alert forest living, he continued to cautiously look and listen for raptors. He sensed no nearby motion, and only a few scattered hoots of owls and chirps of earliest waking songbirds broke the silence of the great, still resting forest.

The tiny Third Moon and distant twinkling stars had for long hours dimly lit the night and guided his flight, but now with growing anticipation Blue watched as the blackened sky slowly brightened to dull gray and then teasing hints of rich blue, and the moon and stars faded from view. The sky this fine morning was mostly clear of clouds, and only the most gentle of breezes teased his blue, white, gray, and black feathers and caused the great tree beneath him to ever so slightly sway. As the sky brightened, the forest awoke around him; hundreds of resting songbirds stretched and preened and joyfully sang in the dawn of a new day ripe with promise. Life unending burst forth, renewed with their song. This had always been Blue Dawn's favorite time of day; so much so that after his first few cycles of seasons his parents made the dawn part of his name, along with the signature color that favored both sky and jay.

Blue had flown through half of the long night and was somewhat weary and wing-sore. The comfortable branch Blue grasped with his powerful grasping toes was dewy damp, cool and reassuringly solid. He would have liked to simply preen and then rest atop the oak while fully enjoying such a fine morning, but he could not, for he was in new territory and on an urgent quest. As he had done on many other questing days, he would nap in the afternoon and early evening, after he had concluded his business here.

In accordance with Law and the Pact of Jays that his kind had with the other songbirds, Blue announced in Plain Song his arrival to the surrounding forest, his loud harsh voice cutting through those of hundreds of other day-singers that proclaimed the end of the long night and the beginning of another joyous day.

"SHAAACK! Yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw! Hear my song, morning bringers! I am Blue Dawn Jay; crest-feathered blue as clear sky, shoulders and under-wings gray as storm clouds, sky blue wings and tail-top banded black as night and white as snow am I.

"Strong as hawk, swift as falcon, cunning as crow am I. But fear me not, winged brothers and sisters, for by The Pact of Jays I am your protector, for I am a blue jay, yaw-yaw!

"A song master also am I. The joyful songs of you all I sing; songs of thrush, chickadee, nuthatch, finch, tanager, grosbeak, and more. Songs of warm suns, soft winds, fat juicy nuts and crawlers, gentle rains and forests green, mixed with song of harsh stormy wind and crushing thunder overcome with the strength of beating wings and hearts. Songs of the joy of life, love of mate, and Freedom of Flight I sing, but never songs of fear. Your songs are mine and mine yours, for you are the World and I am prince of the World; all the World is mine, and I belong to all the World.

"By The Pact of the Jays I pledge wing and beak and claw to protect you, winged brothers and sisters. Songbirds need not fear of owls, hawks or crows when I am near.

"In return, friend songbirds, and my jay brothers and sisters, I merely ask your leave during my short visit here, to seek fruit of vine, seed and nut of tree, and flesh of crawlers in your dominion. Crawlers, beware my swift beak; for I am your winged death, and you are my food, yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw."

The unusually long and audaciously boisterous greeting had taken only moments to sing. Blue paused, cocked his head so that he was looking towards the glorious rising suns, and listened attentively to the chorus of replies to his bold declaration, to a hundred songs in dozens of bird-languages that came from all around him, many simultaneously sung.

Some responses were as plain and simple as those who sang them, while other responses were complex and subtle. A red-bellied woodpecker answered with unusual skill but openly, without even a hint of guile or hidden content, as befit her stoic nature. Wood and hermit thrushes, brown threshers, and other song masters gave cryptic answers hidden beneath and within layers of hundreds of richly patterned notes, obscure passages that included references to well-known song master songs that included references to yet other less known songs, which only another true song master could even hope to decipher. These were clearly intended as tests of Blue's audacious boast to be a song master, which was a very unusual claim for a jay to make.

Some of the replies were friendly, some were mocking, and some curt and indifferent, but at least no songs were overtly hostile, as they were all from other songbirds. That was to be expected; blackbirds and raptors outside the Law would of course not see fit to answer at all.

Included were very brief greetings from several nearby jays. Their replies tended to be neutral declarations of identity; whatever thoughts they had of a stranger jay entering the territory of their flock they kept to themselves for now. However, Blue knew that their interest in his arrival would be intense. With many birds, competition between members of the same species tended to be the most extreme, and so it often was with jays. The local jays would have to be dealt with promptly, so that he could both avoid conflict and quickly gain their aid to accomplish his quest.

It took Blue several minutes to sing a brief individual reply to each bird, abandoning Plain Song to mimic their voices and species-specific song styles perfectly, thanking them for their comradeship and flattering unmercifully their songs, their wisdom, and their fine forest. For the song masters, there were complex and obscure replies to what had been layered deep within their own songs: subtle, twisted references and logic that answered most ageless riddles by posing yet deeper ones, hidden in note patterns that were harmonic variations of themes that they had supplied to Blue.

When Blue's replies finally ended there were numerous brief squawks of approval from the surrounding trees, as song, for both its beauty of sound and its deeper content, was as important to most birds as food or mates. From the forest floor far below, one creative brown thresher chirped a highly complex and original compliment which compared Blue's effort favorably to those of master brown and sage threshers, before returning to the more pressing morning business of greeting the day with fresh new songs of her own, and surprising careless ground crawlers.

Blue glided down a dozen meters to rest upon a slightly lower branch of the great oak, as he continually surveyed his surroundings for predators. Far above, a gigantic red tailed hawk circled slowly on gentle morning breezes but appeared to ignore Blue. Though the hawk needed to be watched, fat, hairy ground crawlers in clearings were far easier prey than feisty jays or songbirds protected by jays. Most of the great raptors, though they disdained the Law, seldom took songbirds unless the prey bird was injured or alone. Small healthy birds could too easily evade a big raptor, and the ever vigilant and protective jays could deliver painful bill-blows.

Blue was much more concerned about the smaller, swifter predators that prowled within the treetops, particularly the falcons and small owls. A small raptor could quietly rush in from close quarters and strike before being noticed. After his boisterous greeting an enraged predator might even come looking for Blue in particular. Such things had happened to jays before. None other than the high soaring great hawk were currently evident, but Blue Dawn knew that there were likely to be other raptors hiding nearby, hoping to discover a careless songbird within their striking range.

Blackbirds also needed to be watched. Though they usually followed the Law they were opportunists that twisted or broke the Law when it suited them and they felt that they could get away with it. Aged, sick, juvenile, or isolated songbirds and their eggs were always at risk to the wondering flocks of crafty bullying crows and grackles.

As a healthy adult jay, Blue knew that he was an unlikely target himself. Easier prey than jays for raptors or blackbirds were everywhere. A little yellow-rumped warbler flitted onto the branch of a nearby fir tree, scooped up a small many-legged crawler, and trilled musically after swallowing it whole. Several tiny blue-gray gnatcatchers swept through the morning air, snatching up winged, flying crawlers. They lighted on several different branches of the oak, and then dashed about on sturdy little legs, rapidly plucking up small crawlers while contentedly uttering wheezy high pitched notes and twangy pinging sounds.

Blue glimpsed other birds through the branches, and quickly identified each species by their appearance, behavior and song. Though he was less familiar with a few of the South Forest species than he was with all the types of birds that lived in his own territory in the North Forest, here as in the hillier, more open woodlands of his homeland, the Pact of Jays that had become part of the Law was firmly held. If he observed a predator threatening a songbird, Blue would try to drive it away. He would fight to the death to save a songbird, if necessary, for this was the place of jays in the World, according to the Pact.

Cautiously, he dropped still lower in the great oak. For the meeting that he would now set in motion, Blue wanted to place himself properly. At this time of day many jays would be high enough in the forest canopy to survey the upper levels where falcons might prey on small songbirds, but not so high as to draw unwanted attention to themselves. Those birds he was about to summon to him needed the opportunity to perch at a proper level.

Blue began to emit the unique, eerie rallying call of the jays, which derived from ancient mating cries. A loud, penetrating, ringing tone of many reverberating frequencies, it was punctuated by harsh, attention getting squawks. "Tull-ull-ull-ull-ull-ull-ull! Yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw."

Within seconds his efforts were rewarded; a jay flew in from a neighboring tree and perched on a nearby branch. "Yaw-yaw," the new arrival squawked, providing through secondary frequencies his name and status within his flock. A second jay, obviously his mate, followed close behind and also announced herself. Others soon flew in from all directions, until Blue was surrounded by a flock of three dozen squawking blue jays. Blue relaxed his raptor vigilance somewhat, as no predator would dare attack a flock of jays. It was the other jays that Blue needed to focus on now, for to them he was a stranger jay.

Finally the leader of the group, an enormous individual nearly as great in size as Blue, squawked greetings cordially, dropped onto the perch directly in front of the visitor, and cocked his head to one side to better study Blue more directly with one of his big eyes. A deep gash above the left eye, long since healed, indicated the source of his name. "You would be Blue Dawn from the far North Forest," said Scar, singing in the quick, sharp, no-nonsense jay language. "We hear songs of you, young jay. You quest far from your summer nesting."

"Far quest; far, far, far!" echoed the gathered jays as they bobbed their heads, indicating that they followed the conversation and agreed with their spokesman. More, through such repetition and movement they were subtly affirming Scar's firm leadership of their flock and his right to sing for them all.

"I thank you deeply for allowing my visit, and for responding to my gathering-call," sang Blue in reply, then sang right to business. "I seek a questing brother, wise flock leader Scar: an old bird, feeble in wing but strong in song and spirit. A bird judged wise among even the wise, a bird that perches high in the Great Council."

"Great Council, Council, Council," echoed the others, heads bobbing excitedly at the mere mention of the Great Council of Songbirds.

"So it is sung," replied Scar. "Songs passed from distant forests tell of a young jay, a jay as rich in song lure as a thresher, who recklessly quests endlessly through the forest, seeking a great wise bird of the Council. Yet this bird you seek is not your mate, song master?"

Coming from a jay flock leader, Blue wasn't sure if he had been called a song master as a complement or a rebuke. Jays loved song as much as other birds, but true mastery of song bore no relationship to the jay Pact. Singing wasn't a jay's primary business, as his own father and flock leader had reminded him many times. "I seek not mate, not family, not even jay, but a good friend," he replied.

Scar cocked his head expressively. "Not mate, not even jay? Do you quest to these woods on official Council business then?"

The other jays squawked in astonishment at the very suggestion. All birds knew of the Great Council of Songbirds, but few had ever experienced any direct contact with it, or had even met with any bird that had.

Scar's logic was evident to them all. A solitary stranger jay flying about the woods was unusual, although not unheard of. There were infrequent quests beyond flock territorial boundaries for new mates or missing mates, for lost siblings, or even for new songs for males to interest fickle females, but most such quests tended to be short forays that occurred early in Spring, when the pulse of life in the forest caused even jays to temporarily forsake some flock duties for a brief time in order to seek their mate and continue the great cycle of life. Only during the yearly winter migration to the South-East Islands did northern jays such as Blue normally travel far from their home nesting forest. Questing in mid-summer was rare indeed.

Only Council business cut across all territories and happened at any time of year. Council business would thus be a logical reason for such a quest, though a jay questing on Council business was also rare. It was not the typical jay's niche in bird society to be flying about on Council business.

"No, no!" replied Blue. "Mine is not a quest for Council, this quest is mine only, by Freedom of Flight," he explained. "I seek my friend, wise Song Flame the Cardinal."

The older jay nodded slowly. The principle of Freedom of Flight was an old one, far older than the Pact and even The Law. Some sang that it was as old as birds. "I have met many cardinals in my youth and while on migration, but none summer here," stated Scar. The flock leader stared this way and that, shaking his head, as though some deep memory was stirring him, before continuing. "Song Flame the Cardinal. Yes, I have heard that name sung. They are fine songsters, cardinals are, but they rarely nest or quest in the South Forest, as they prefer the seeds of the North Forest. Why would such a bird quest here, and what could it have to do with a jay, or even the Council? The Council deals with small and silly matters: nesting rights, song interpretations, and the like. Such things are not of particular interest to jays, nestling. The true business of jays is to keep the Pact in their own nesting grounds."

Blue ignored the clear rebuke. So many others had criticized his quest and sought to dissuade him from continuing it that he didn't even bother arguing anymore. "This cardinal went on a long quest to the Far South Forest, and did not return. I seek my friend and mentor, and I need your help. Have you seen or heard of such a bird, wise Scar? Or have any members of your flock?"

"Not I," sang Scar.

"Not I, not I, not I," echoed most of the others, but one pair remained silent until after all the others had answered. "What does this cardinal look like?" asked the male.

Blue noted that both jays of the pair were even younger than himself and may have never been introduced to cardinals. Jays didn't necessarily migrate in the winter such that they would meet with birds of other regions. "This bird is less than half your size, with a head crested like a jay, but is all red like the head of a great woodpecker or a male scarlet tanager in spring."

"It could be him," nodded the female.

"Could be him, could be him, could be him," agreed the nodding male.

Elated, Blue's feathers puffed out, but he was puzzled. If it was indeed Song Flame, how could the presence of a great one such as he not be well known among the local jay flock? "Is it Song Flame?" asked Blue. There had been many false leads and hopes over the last two months, but he had strong feelings about this one, feelings of hope mixed with dread. "Surely this bird must have sung you his name."

"Too weak is the bird we sing of," explained Bob, the young male jay.

"Weak, and perhaps without song to even sing his name properly," added his mate Nod. "He may be red of feather, or the red we have seen may be all blood."

"Blood, blood, blood," echoed Bob.

Blue's sudden elation turned just as quickly to terrible dread. "Quickly, where is this bird?" he demanded.

"On deathwatch," chorused the nodding pair.

"There is an old injured bird on deathwatch near our nesting tree," added Nod.

"Deathwatch, deathwatch, deathwatch!" echoed the jay flock, solemnly.

"We must return and rejoin the deathwatch, for there the blackbirds gather," sang Bob. "Too many blackbirds this year; far too many."

"Come. Fly to see if it is your friend," invited the young female. "Follow us."

Nod and her mate Bob flew off, followed closely by Blue, after he chirped a hasty thank-you to Scar and his flock.

Scar screamed a curt note of dismissal and he and the rest of the jay flock scattered quickly, returning to their normal morning routine. Already, half his flock had abandoned their songbird neighbors for far too long, thought Scar. True jay business was to enforce the Pact. His flock had already put up with more than their share of unusual problems and strange rumors this season.

As Blue followed Bob and Nod through the thick of the forest, he guessed the source of the names that the young pair held. Bob, the male, constantly bobbed up and down in flight, dodging limb and leaf with what appeared to be reckless abandon, while Nod flew more cautiously behind him, but moved her head constantly up and down as her eyes anxiously followed the erratic movement of her mate. Despite their odd styles, they were superb woodland flyers, and Blue had to use all of his flying skills to keep up with them.

They had flown only a few dozen great tree widths when Blue sensed a change in the mood of the forest. Gone were the joyful songs of morning; ahead and below an ominous silence reigned, broken only by harsh, toneless "CAW, CAW" sounds. The trio flew straight towards the source of the awful sounding noise, increasing their speed.

In a small clearing atop a small tree stump roost near ground level, a brown-red clump of twisted, broken feathers lay still. On the forest floor around it strutted a dozen huge, hulking crows, each at least four or five times the weight of an average jay. Overhead a pair of jays circled closely, soon joined by Bob and Nod, squawking "deathwatch, deathwatch," but several of the blackbirds squawked back at them defiantly, while the others insolently ignored them completely. Several additional crows circled high above the jays.

The big blackbirds were clearly not waiting for the ailing songbird to officially be declared dead by the jay deathwatch. The big crows on the ground were edging slowly towards the low stump, cautious of the jays but clearly confident in their superior numbers and strength.

Even as Blue took this all in, a monstrous crow landed within the tightening circle of marching crows and stepped decisively towards the stump, only to be diverted by a tiny brown figure that scrambled rapidly out from its base, cheeping loudly as it thrashed tiny flapping wings and pecked with its long thin beak at the towering crow's massive legs.

The huge crow paused to look down at the miniature bird that attacked it. The tiny creature was no larger than the crow's head, and its pecking hadn't even broken any skin. Surprise had given the crow pause, not injury.

Blue knew exactly what the big crow was thinking. This small bird was normally under the protection of Law, but now that it had attacked him, the First Law took precedence. If attacked, any bird could lawfully defend itself to the death; that was the First Law. With a gleeful squawk, the crow prepared to strike down at its diminutive attacker, which Blue now recognized to be a brown creeper.

"KEEEEEEE!" Blue screamed in his red tailed hawk voice, as he dove at the crow. One of his wings glanced solidly off the right shoulder of the big bird, such that it stumbled a bird-length away from the creeper, but was not knocked off of its feet. A moment later the jay perched astride the bloodied pile of feathers atop the stump and turned to face the monstrous black bird.

The crow, fully recovered after being merely thrown off balance for a moment, hissed open-mouthed at Blue, while his startled, squawking companions, still glancing about for a hawk, scrambled awkwardly away from the stump in confusion and extended their wings as though considering flight. Meanwhile the tiny creeper rapidly spiraled its way up the stump using its bark-gripping toes, and flattened itself out fearfully under Blue's legs and next to the red pile of feathers, panting open-beaked and wide-eyed. The little bird was both terrified and exhausted.

The lead crow appraised Blue with cold unblinking eyes. Blue had never before seen such a huge crow. Cocked head held high, the big bird's black head was almost level with Blue's, despite Blue's position atop the stump. "Away, little cousin, this does not concern you," the crow hissed in plain language without even a hint of song skill. "Your Law has no hold on the dead or those that eat of them." His head turned slightly to glare directly at the creeper. "Nor does the Law protect those who attack us as we go about our proper business."

"If this old bird is not yet dead, a blue jay deathwatch should be held by Law," replied Blue. "Perhaps you would have made the mistake of breaking the Law. Perhaps this small brown bird only seeks your well-being then, wise crow, by saving you from such inadvertent error."

The crow flock, which had by now calmed down and crowded closer to the stump than ever, cawed loudly in laughter. Though crows were killers, no other bird had a stronger sense of humor, dark and twisted though it was.

The lead crow did not laugh. "You seem witty enough, young egg eater, to know death when you see it, though also reckless enough that you may soon know it better," he hissed. "Our flock heard some of your silly, boastful song earlier, stranger jay. Song master or not, you must follow the Law. Look for yourself at the pile of feathers that you stand over, young prince of the forest, and see if by Law it still holds a true songbird, egg-eater."

Blue's eyes flashed and his head cocked back and prepared to strike when he was called an egg eater, for there was no greater insult to a jay. Long ages ago, before the Pact of Jays with the songbirds, when partnered in ancient times with blackbirds, jays also ate songbird eggs; to call a jay an egg-eater now was to call them a traitor to the Pact of Jays. But Blue held his temper to better use his wits, for he knew that not by force alone could he prevail against a flock of huge crows.

He glanced up and saw that there were now six more jays circling above them, but the balance of power was still tilted strongly in favor of the larger and more numerous crows, particularly since if what Blue was doing wasn't even supported by Law, it wasn't certain what the other jays would support him.

"Tull-ull-ull-ull-ull-ull-ull! Yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw," sang Bob and Nod, calling for more jays to gather, and showing that for now they backed Blue.

"Squawk," responded the lead crow in anger.

"Hold, wise crow," placated Blue. "This pile of feathers may indeed hold your breakfast. Stay back and be quiet now, and let me check to see if your meal is ready for you yet."

The crows cackled laughter again, and as they did, Blue stepped aside and took his first good look at what he had been risking his life to protect. The feathers could have been red, but so many were stuck together with brown mud and darker, dried blood, it was difficult to judge their original color. They were sticking out in all directions without discernible order as might be expected of a creature with wings and tail, such that it was at first not even clear which end of the pile might hold rump or head. Blue didn't think that this could possibly be Song Flame, he wasn't even sure it was a cardinal.

"Hello, Blue," whispered a weak and plain but shockingly familiar voice from the near end of the feather pile.

Anxiously, Blue gently pushed aside lose, broken feathers to reveal the short, stout, seed-cracking beak and small blinking right eye of his missing friend and mentor, old Song Flame. Near the eye a blood-sucking crawler was attached to the skin. Before Blue could react, the little brown creeper's slim bill shot forward almost swifter than could be seen, and the crawler was gone. The cardinal's small eye blinked weakly as though in gratitude, a blood stained tear running from it.

"Song Flame lives," declared Blue loudly, as he turned and stood tall to again face the great crow.

The crow's cruel answering laughter cackled through the little clearing. "Lives? It lives you say? I think not. The poor broken thing weakly breathes perhaps, and croaks softly a plain word or two, but by Law that is not life for a bird of song. If it lives, why do we not hear its life-song? If it is a bird why does it not fly? Without its life-song or flight it is dead and open to claim as crow food. That is your own Law, egg-eater. Now be gone."

Blue's feathers fluffed out, making him appear even larger, and he held his wings half out and crouched lower on his sturdy legs, poised to leap out upon the crow. "SHAAACK," he screamed angrily. "Nest robber! Carrion lover! Dung eater! Songless, croaking, colorless, slow flying, crawler cousin! In this I have my own law! I eat the eyes of crows that insult the jay! Give this bird a chance to sing and fly to discover what is right by Law, or look now your last upon blue death!"

"Law, Law, Law, Law," came a noisy chorus from above, and all glanced up to see dozens of blue jays arriving and gathering above them. The full jay flock of Scar had arrived. Most circled noisily and closely above the heads of the crows, but Scar and several others landed at the base of the stump, placing themselves between the crows and their intended prey. The crows took a small step back, then stood firm. "Like this stranger jay that visits my forest, I too would hear the old bird's life-song, Black Heart," said Scar, as he cocked his head to look up at the towering lead crow.

Blue blinked when he heard the name, for there was not a bird in all the World that did not know the crow name Black Heart, a legendary name sung in fear by songbirds from the time they are chicks. Black Heart would eat the weak chicks, it was sung. Black Heart would eat migration stragglers and the old. Black Heart would harshly sing the strength from the strongest songbird, and claim them as prey. It was the name given to only one crow in each generation; a name given to the leader of all the crows and other blackbirds of the World. This crow was the strongest, cleverest, and cruelest of the entire world-wide Black Flock, and their supreme leader.

Black Heart nodded once and cackled. "Very well, my old friend Scar, I too will pause to listen to the bird's song. But if we do not soon hear its life-song or see flight, then the dead red body is ours. Also, if this brown bird and jay try to stop us again, they too will be outside your Law and will be ours to take. Do you not agree, learned Scar, my little blue friend?"

Scar shook his head and spat in disgust. "No jay will ever be your friend, crow, but what you sing is agreed to, for that is the Law. This bird's life-song or his flight is needed for him to be alive. Quiet now all! Quiet!" Hopping closer to the tree trunk, he looked up at his young jay visitor and sang quietly, so that he would only be heard by Blue. "You have three minutes. Then the death watch ends and the jay flock will leave if there is no life-song or flight from this small broken one."

On the stump, Blue bent over his friend anxiously and sang softly. "Do you hear them, Song Flame? Sing for your life and for mine, for while you have any breath in you at all I will not leave you to be food for crows."

"You are too good a student this day, Blue," replied Song Flame, his voice only a plain quiet whisper, yet it still held wisdom. It was Song Flame's rebellious teachings on what defined life and death that was keeping Blue with him, the old bird reasoned, for he didn't agree with the Law on this point. Something that breathed was alive, Song Flame had argued often to the Council, to no avail. "In addition, laws change," he would argue. "Ways can and must change, through growth in wisdom," he had told Blue. "Why, jays used to fly with the blackbirds, long, long ago, and obeyed their savage laws. When they left them they established the Pact of Blue Jays, to make up for the evil they had done. Know your history, Blue, not so that you can simply re-live it, but so that you can improve upon it."

Now with his last strength Song Flame was trying to teach yet another hard lesson to his young apprentice. "You must live, Blue," he spoke, though every softly spoken word was for him a massive labor. "You must live to tell the Council what I tell you now. After I tell you, you must leave me to die and go to them."

"I can't leave you," insisted Blue. "I've searched for you since spring, foolish old bird, to the east, west, north and south. Sing your song of life now, and then after you rest and feed you can sing me your stories. When you molt new feathers and are well enough, I will escort you to Song Wood and you can sing your news to the entire Council yourself."

"You searched for me since spring? You were supposed to rejoin your flock and find a mate this year, Blue! You promised!" Song Flame paused often, catching his breath, while whispering plain words only one or two at a time. "But it is well that you found me. Listen now, young friend. There are strange new crawlers in the Far South Forest, large crawlers the size of mid-sized songbirds, and clever beyond the ken of birds."

As the Cardinal whispered Blue looked him over more carefully, poking the red feathers about, and was appalled at the condition of his friend and mentor. Blood dribbled from a dozen open gashes where his body had been deeply clawed, and where his head had been severely pecked. Many feathers were gone, and of those that remained many were broken and loose, and obviously hadn't been properly preened in days. It was certain that he had been attacked by birds, likely by the same crows that wanted him now.

Blue also listened to the old bird's quietly sung words, but the words were nonsense. Large clever crawlers? Crawlers more clever than birds? These were senseless words. Only one thing mattered now; Song Flame had to sing or fly to prove that he lived! "Save your strength for your life-song, old one, more crows gather."

High overhead, above the thin flock of jays, hundreds of crows now circled, cawing loudly. Crows always flocked, but usually no more than a dozen or two dozen gathered together through the summer. Here there were more crows than Blue had ever seen in one flock before, even during migrations. The crow that faced him must truly be the Black Heart of legend, to command such an immense following. The balance of power had shifted decisively to the advantage of the crows. Blue doubted that there were enough jays within a full day's flight to combat this Black Flock.

Song Flame continued whispering nonsense, though slower and quieter, as his strength further failed him. "Listen Blue; they clear the land of trees. They destroy the Great Balance. You must warn Council. Also the blackbirds are up to something evil; I don't know what. They hunt both me and the creeper." Each word came even slower now, as if the wise bird was running out of them. "The strange crawlers are the Old Ones returned, Blue, I have seen them."

Blue shook his head. Of all the strange things that Song Flame had said, this was the strangest. The Old Ones? That was merely a story sung to frighten chicks!

"You must leave me now, dear friend; I can sing no more. Go!"

Blue nodded slowly, and tears ran from his own eyes. By now he had judged for himself that his friend was indeed dying. But he had also decided that he would not leave while breath remained in the old bird. Death was no stranger to Blue, but this was his teacher and best friend, and he could not abandon him to the hated crows. Not while he himself drew breath!

Blue abruptly started singing; not using the loud harsh voice of a jay, but the sweeter, softer voice of a cardinal. "Purde, purde, purde, whit-whit-whit-whit! Song of morning's flame of light, I sing a song to all's delight; a bright flame of song to light the heart, to tease the mind, to warm and raise bird spirits to greatest heights!"

At that point song words ended and a rich assemblage of colorful wordless melody erupted from Blue, carrying deep within it echoes of sunlight and wind and flight. Now and then, soft harmonic phrases were added that spoke of the mystery and beauty of life. All the other birds quieted to better listen. This was the singing of a true song master, a master cardinal, mimicked perfectly by the jay. Even the crows paused their impatient strutting and cackling, transfixed. The song went on for over a minute but at last ended, leaving only silence and the flutter of wings.

"A clever trick, jay," hissed Black Heart, nodding, untouched even by the beauty of bird song. "I do concede that we demanded this bird's life-song, and that you have indeed provided it yourself. It was a good but useless jest." Black Heart cawed cruel crow laughter, echoed by the surrounding multitude.

"And now I recall more of you, young Blue Dawn Jay. You are the jay that abandoned your own flock and jay Pact duties to mimic the song of your betters, and to learn false nonsense from this old fool cardinal that had also forsaken his own honest flock. Flock deserters, the both of you!"

The big crow's great harsh voice had grown loud enough to be heard by all, above even the sound of big flapping crow wings. There were at least three hundred crows now, flying above and around the jays, and more were arriving by the dozen. Everyone, even the jays, listened attentively to Black Heart. There was something almost hypnotic in his taunting words of accusation, sang harshly but with a measure of logic and with such strength and conviction that they rang of truth, a damning truth that seemed undeniable.

Black Heart shook his head slowly as though it pained him to sing such of a fellow bird. "Look where this misbegotten flight has taken you now, cousin jay. You flaunt the Law and the Pact of Jays. Even your Great Council sings of your foolishness, prince of fools. Is it true that though grown to full breeding age these past three springs you have chosen to not pair with a mate?"

The crows cawed in laughter while the jays standing around the stump shuffled their feet uncomfortably, and softly squawked among themselves in astonishment. How could any young bird in their right mind choose to not pair? It was inconceivable! Some older birds that have lost long time mates chose not to find another, or sometimes illness or injury intervened, but how could any healthy young bird come of age and simply choose to not mate? It was unnatural. There had to be something deeply wrong with him!

"Should you follow the lead of such a bird, friend Scar?" asked Black Heart.

"I follow my own lead, crow," squawked Scar, scathingly. "And I follow the Law, to keep The Balance."

"Of course you do," agreed Black Heart. "And we crows respect that. You jays have a truly noble calling. After all, where would we all be without The Great Balance as supported by the Law? But we crows play our part in The Balance too, distasteful as that part may seem at times to some of our dear pretty little blue cousins. It's a savage, bird-eat-bird world, cousins!"

"Caw, caw, caw," cried the hundreds of crows that were now flying in the air, perching in trees and strutting about the stump. There were ten crows and more for every jay.

"We rid the World of the weak, the sick, and the dead, leaving the strong room to live, to mate and sing, and to fly free! Jays, would you rather have dead songbirds eaten by crawlers?"

"No, no, no," squawked the jays, and their heads shook and their feathers bristled, for nothing could be worse than that, to be eaten by crawlers. Crawlers were songless, featherless and strange, usually had six legs, and were fit only to be bird food.

Black Heart stooped to face Scar eye-to-eye. "Friend Scar, is it not true that in Law a poor broken creature that cannot fly or sing is not alive and not a bird?"

Scar nodded reluctantly. "It is true. Have patience for a brief time crow, and this will yet be resolved without blood of crow or jay."

With a flap of his wings, Scar flew up to perch beside Blue at the top of the tree stump, where he bent over Song Flame and poked at the limp body. "Sing or fly now, old one," he said gently. There was no response. Scar shook his head and turned to Blue to speak quietly. "By Law this bird is dead, Blue. I will declare that deathwatch is concluded. I must. There can be no jay protection within the Law."

"My friend still breaths," said Blue.

Scar shook his head. "I am sorry, but we jays must go. The crows may have him, as is their right. The Law cannot help him now. Come with us, Blue; you cannot face these crows alone. You are very young; you will have more chances to fight blackbirds, and to mate, and to make other friends, be they jays or cardinals or any other birds you like."

"None others are like Song Flame."

"We must all die at some time, young Blue. This is his time. Do not also make it yours."

"Go," said a pitifully weak voice. It was Song Flame. Blue looked and saw that with a tremendous effort the old bird had lifted his head to stare at him with blood stained eyes. "Go now. Be a bird of all flocks, Blue; sing a song of all birds, and fly free, nestling."

"No, old friend," said Blue firmly, "I stay." Song Flame shuttered and his head lay down again. His breath came in tortured, shallow gasps.

Scar shook his head, turned away, and spread his wings wide. "Jay, jay, jay, yaw, yaw, yaw," he cried aloud, as he lifted off the ground and circled away slowly, followed by all the other jays of his flock. "Deathwatch is over, yaw, yaw, yaw."

Blue stood alone.

"Caw, caw, caw," cried all the crows in triumph.

"This is your very last chance for your own miserable life, Blue Dawn Jay," hissed Black Heart. "Leave here now or die."

The big jay matched stares with the huge blackbird leader. "I'll take you with me to endless skies, crow," he squawked.

In the long, tense, silent moment that followed Blue felt movement underneath him. He thought at first that it was the brown creeper fleeing, but instead of the tiny brown bird it was a dull red mass of twisted feathers that shot out from under him and flew up awkwardly, rapidly flapping what must have once been wings that now shed broken bits of blood covered red feathers. "Purde, purde, purde," Song Flame chirped.

Elation shot through Blue, for Song Flame was both flying and singing! Then all sound and wing motion stopped, and the totally limp body of the cardinal dropped straight down, striking the moss-covered ground with a sickening thud at the very feet of Black Heart.

With a triumphant scream Black Heart struck down with his massive beak at the already lifeless body with crushing force, and in moments he and a half-dozen other crows were tearing the cardinal apart.

Blue stood stunned for the few short, terrible seconds that it took for all of this to happen. Most crows were focused on the death scene also, but a few flew towards Blue's perch. Blue didn't even notice them. He had just witnessed the death of his best friend and mentor. He felt as if every part of his body and soul had been struck numb by some monstrous bolt of dark lightning. Dim awareness only returned when, with a loud cheep, the brown creeper shot out from under him and flapped frantically away from the scene, pursued closely by cawing crows that snapped and clawed at the little bird.

The crows were awkward fliers, but would quickly wear down the already exhausted little bird, Blue knew. They would wear him down and surely kill him just as they had killed Song Flame.

"SKREEEEEEEEEE," Blue screamed in pain and rage, a noise beyond description that he and the other birds had never heard before, as with his anger a hideous strength returned to him, beak and wing. He launched himself after the defenseless creeper and its pursuers, wings beating furiously. "Yaw, yaw, yaw!" he cried, as he dodged between and struck painful blows with his sharp beak at the crows to catch up with the fleeing creeper.

Some of Song Flame's strange words were beginning to make sense to Blue; at least he believed the part about crows hunting down the old cardinal. But why would the king of the crows and hundreds of his followers go to so much trouble to hunt down a cardinal? And why were they still so determined to kill the brown creeper? Song Flame had sung that the crows also pursued the creeper, and it appeared now that he was correct.

Blue didn't have time to think about it. As he followed the erratically flying creeper through the forest dozens more of the crows followed, and from the way they attacked it was soon made clear that Blue was fighting for his own life, as well as that of the creeper.

Uncharacteristically, the crows attacked methodically, similar to the way that jays fought in the air. It was as if they had trained to do so, had done it before, and done it often. They took turns attacking, two or three at a time. An average jay would have been quickly overwhelmed.

Blue was no ordinary jay, and he was in no ordinary state of mind. "Yaw, yaw!" he cried angrily as he struck savagely at the big attacking blackbirds, using his superior speed, maneuverability and striking power. A key food of his kind were solid acorns and other hard shelled nuts, which jays cracked open with blows almost as powerful as could be delivered by big woodpeckers. Blue followed the First Law and held nothing back, cracking skulls, gouging out eyes, and crippling wings left and right, leaving a trail of bloody dead, dying and mangled crows on the forest floor below.

A dozen and more huge blackbirds fell, but still more came. Alone, Blue could have out-flown the awkward crows through the trees, but he refused to abandon the little brown creeper that had so courageously defended Song Flame. He twisted and turned acrobatically again and again to intercept any crows that approached the creeper or himself.

But the already exhausted brown creeper was tiring further, and so was Blue. Some of his blows weren't landing as soundly, and the crows were beginning to get in some awkward but ponderously powerful blows of their own. None had yet done serious damage to Blue, but soon they would.

Diving down swiftly from above, a daring crow got past Blue and struck a glancing blow at the creeper, knocking the tiny bird towards the ground below. Screaming in rage, Blue followed the faltering little brown bird down, after gouging an eye of his black attacker and driving his sharp bill into the crow's brain.

The dead crow dropped to the ground next to the terrified creeper, and Blue perched atop the still twitching black body, decreasing the height advantage of the half-dozen crows that promptly landed around them. On the ground the huge crows clearly had the advantage.

"Yaw, Yaw!" screamed Blue, above the cawing of the crows, his beak dripping with crow blood. "Come meet blue death, crows!"

The great strutting black crows came, cawing and hissing.

****

CHAPTER 2

KATE ON AVES

After a solid but surprisingly gentle bump and deep thumping sound announced successful planet-fall, the deafening, unrelenting, bone-rattling man-made thunder abruptly faded away, and all sensation of motion and vibration vanished. Young scientist Katherine Deborg savored the moment. After a week of rocket powered deceleration, the stillness and near silence were heavenly. Only the deep faint hum of the disengaged but ever active anti-matter powered quantum warp engines remained.

Cargo spacecraft such as this one were simply not designed for comfort, Kate reflected. In addition to numbing noise and vibration for much of the trip, living space was claustrophobic. Fuel and space-warping hyper-drive and rocket apparatus and fuel occupied about fifty percent of the ship's volume, and about forty-nine percent was cargo space, currently occupied by logging and farming related machinery and other much needed supplies for the planet Aves that were too difficult to cost-effectively fabricate on-planet.

A mere one percent of the spacecraft's volume was designed to continuously support human life, and much of that consisted of storage bins, narrow access conduits, and control stations for the tiny six person crew. Three dozen Spartan, one-room, makeshift passenger quarters were kludged from scattered, odd-shaped spaces between storage and engine compartments, and connected by twisting, narrow, dull-gray corridors. The two dozen horizontally arranged habitable sectors were further connected by twin vertical cargo elevator shafts that traversed the four-hundred meter length of the ship.

The over-all cylindrical shape of the ship somewhat resembled that of space-ships depicted in ancient science fiction B-grade movies. When on-planet, the ship's squat, hydraulically adjusted legs supported an enormous vertical cylinder that suggestively pointed skyward. The ship was massive; built of the strongest available steels and composites, with a constantly running gravity warping core that helped keep it from collapsing when stressed by planetary or acceleration induced gravity. Built to haul great cargos in addition to heavy liquid fuel loads and enormous rocket and space warping engines, the ships were in a very real sense universes unto themselves when in full warp-drive mode. However, futurists regarded these ships as temporary kludges that would be replaced within a few decades. They envisioned ships with better warp control that would need no rocket propulsion at all and require a much less robust physical structure.

Each rounded end of the cylinder contained a flight control station. The top deck contained the forward flight control station, which was normally used for the first part of a voyage. By pointing the ship's center axis along the direction of acceleration/ deceleration, except for the several disorienting minutes needed to turn a ship around after completing hyper drive, the same sense of 'up and down' relative to the ship could be maintained throughout the lengthy rocket powered portions of the trip that occurred before and after hyper drive. This meant that for the last portion of the trip the ship appeared to be traveling backwards as it decelerated, controlled from the aft flight control station that was wedged between giant rocket thrusters on the rear of the ship.

Kate took a deep breath of cold stale air that despite exhaustive filtering smelled too strongly of wood and other past cargo. Elite professionals such as scientists usually traveled to Aves aboard one of the more comfortable and better-equipped passenger flights; Kate would have done that herself, if her employer the Federation Space Directorate hadn't been so anxious for her to get to Aves.

"More the pity; time to leave these wonderful accommodations," she declared to herself sarcastically. After a month on-board she had gotten used to talking aloud to herself. As she unstrapped and pushed herself out of her contour seat she surveyed her tiny suite for the last time, and felt lucky to be a smaller than average person.

At the push of a button one wall of the suite became fully mirrored, and she again inspected her appearance. After all, she was reporting to Aves for work, and wanted to make favorable first impressions with her new scientist colleagues. She smiled at herself, quite satisfied that she looked sharp in her standard, medium blue, tight fitting but formal Space Directorate laboratory uniform. The uniform showed to advantage her trim but well curved, athletic, twenty-seven Earth-years old figure. Her light brown hair wasn't quite as short as she liked it, but still within regulation guidelines, and it lay neat and natural to frame her oval face and large, soft blue eyes. Even without bio-enhancement, she didn't need makeup to be a cut or two above average in appearance. No makeup known to woman could stand up to Aves heat and humidity anyway. "Good enough for Directorate work," she muttered out of habit, though she had only worked for the Space Directorate for the past six months since earning her doctorate.

She made sure to put the message stick she had been creating over the past few days into her uniform pocket. It contained several hours of three-D video that her parents and siblings would hopefully soon enjoy at home on Mars. She was long used to living apart from them, but not to being light-decades away. Fortunately the same space/time-warping hyper-drive technology that powered travel between star systems supported near-instantaneous communication, though data rates were limited and even one-way messages were very expensive. This message would cost Kate a week's pay, but it was worth it to keep in touch with her family.

Gathering up her suitcase, she stepped out of the cabin and wheeled it across the aisle to a doorway that opened to the 'down' elevator shaft. She paused and took several slow deep breaths. She had a healthy respect for gravity, and millions of years of instincts that didn't know anything about anti-gravity technology. After again assuring herself that the bright green lights around the doorway indicated that the elevator was operative, she steeled herself to step boldly into the emptiness of the shaft without looking down.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the warp-engine idle-mode powered gravity field provided immediate weightlessness. She and her suitcase drifted to a slowly circulating tether line which she grasped with her free hand, and the line began to pull her steadily downward towards the bottom deck two hundred meters below. The cavernous fifteen-meter wide shaft seemed to be deserted except for herself, and she wasn't about to risk a disturbing bout of vertigo by searching for other passengers by looking up or down the shaft.

To keep her mind off the fact that she was floating in mid-air hundreds of meters above the shaft bottom without any visible means of support, she counted the hatches as she moved past them. She passed more than a dozen smallish hatches that like hers were open to passenger levels, but saw nobody else. The other passengers were probably already down and off the ship by now, she suspected. She also passed nearly a dozen cargo levels, as evidenced by huge cargo doors that would only be opened and utilized after the passengers were unloaded, thank the gods! She would be in full panic if the shaft was crowded with hundreds of tons of floating farm and tree harvesting machinery. She didn't envy the coming job of the cargo crew. What would it be like to drive a hundred-ton harvesting machine into the yawning chasm of the elevator shaft?

The journey down the shaft seemed to take forever, but at last she was relieved to land gently at the bottom. As the slow moving floor-way moved her out of the elevator she felt her weight gradually return, and she soon found herself in a crowded aisle with the other 59 passengers and their luggage. Like her, each passenger had only one large suitcase. Additional clothes and other items would be cost-effectively fabricated on-planet from planet raw materials.

Most passengers engaged in happy, excited banter and appeared to be very happy that the voyage was coming to an end. Kate couldn't stop smiling herself; she was so excited to be on Aves. This was the sort of assignment she had dreamed of since she was a child: an alien world full of alien life to study! Being back on a planet would take some getting used too, however. Despite her spare, wiry build, Kate felt heavy, for although gravity was only about seven-tenths Earth-norm, she had spent most of the previous month in zero-gravity hyper-flight, and before that had spent most of her life on Mars. But even the relatively heavy gravity couldn't keep the bounce out of her step as she pressed towards the ship exit end of the crowded corridor, anxious to catch her first glimpse of Aves.

"Have your IDs ready," echoed a proclamation from near the passenger sector exit hatch. Kate couldn't see its source through the throng of passengers, but recognized the voice of the first officer. "And be ready for final identification and decontamination prior to debarkation."

The 60 passengers collectively groaned. "Fudge," muttered Kate, her perfect happy mood broken. "More than enough is enough already, I would have hoped."

Other passengers voiced similar complaints. They had all been under close observation within a space ship for a month; surely who they were had already been established many times over. They had also been thoroughly decontaminated a dozen times over. Nevertheless, over the next two hours each individual still had to suffer a disinfectant shower, multiphase scanning, sonic scrub, radiation bombardment, and internal flushing via chemical antibiotics, plus a DNA ID check. All of that took about five minutes per person, four at a time; the rest of the time involved waiting in line in the hallway while all passengers and their luggage were processed. At least Kate managed to submit the message for her parents to the ship crew for transmission, so the waiting wasn't a complete waste of time.

As a biologist, Kate understood the importance of avoiding contamination of this planet, but as a human being she felt a bit like a lab rat, and she couldn't avoid feeling that the Space Directorate overdid decontamination just a bit. At least while she was on assignment here for the next Earth-year she would hopefully be able to avoid the indignity of further formal decontamination procedures, though she would still be required to ingest chemical supplements to make up for the loss of the billions of tiny creatures that normally inhabited humans and in various ways contributed to their health, and to also combat local pathogens and discourage local insect-life.

Personal in-body biological and robotic enhancements, long in vogue among the wealthy and certain professionals, were prohibited on Aves. She suspected that her selection for this assignment was largely due to the fact that she had never acquired any of those. As a professional biologist, she felt that the human body was already complex enough.

At least as a biologist and an adult, Kate understood the need for decontamination measures. She pitied the children on the flight that were too young to understand. However, she had noticed that very few of the passengers were children, which wasn't unusual for interplanetary space travel. Aves was a frontier world, where work-capable adults were wanted; sexually capable adults who could also be relied upon to reproduce and expand the sparse planetary work force, without further recourse to expensive technology based methods of increasing the working population such as providing light-years of transportation, or to socially unacceptable methods such as cloning.

Finally the passengers were allowed to disembark. The big cargo hatches weren't opened; they would leave the ship one-by-one through a small human-proportioned hatchway. The hatch slid aside and they filed out of the cold, cramped, sterile spacecraft environment and into an uncomfortably hot, open world teeming with life.

Kate sampled the Aves atmosphere even before she reached the hatchway. The air was so thick and damp that it almost seemed to Kate to be liquid, and smelled so rich with life that she was reminded of the great arboretums on Mars, where she had begun her formal study of biology. "Fantastic!" she exclaimed aloud, grinning. "Aves smells like a zoo!" As well it should, she realized. She recalled reading an estimate that Aves was home to more than ten-thousand cubic kilometers of living material, over ten-times the amount of life ever found on Earth.

It also crossed her mind that she was now inhaling airborne alien microbes and other tiny alien life forms. Though she had started taking the prescribed protective chemicals at the conclusion of her final decontamination, she felt a little spooked. However, such concerns were overwhelmed by the exhilaration of being on a new world teaming with life.

Kate had intended to pause and gaze at the Aves panorama when it was her turn to step outside, but the twin suns were so bright that she had to focus on walking down the landing ramp, keeping ahead of the excited passengers behind her, and keeping her heavy two-wheeled suitcase under reasonable control.

At the base of the ramp a smiling, black bearded, middle aged, scruffy looking little man shook each arrival's hand and muttered greetings as they stepped off the short ramp and onto the concrete landing apron. The greeter's penetrating brown eyes caught Kate's as he reached for her free hand and shook it firmly.

"Welcome to Aves, Dr. Deborg," he said, as Kate blinked under the brilliance of Aves' twin suns, and marveled at the vastness of the habitable living space that a planet could provide. "Please wait for me and I'll walk with you to the tram that will take us to the Operations building. By the way folks," continued the man, loud enough now for all the new arrivals to hear, "I'm George Keto, Governor of Aves."

As the astonished Kate waited nearby, the small man turned to eagerly greet a handsome young man that wore severely plain clothes of black and gray. He was tall and muscular, and moved with the easy grace of an athlete. On his broad back he carried a plain black fabric backpack, in contrast to the brightly colored, wheeled composite suitcases that the other passengers used. "You're of the Brethren, aren't you?" Governor Keto asked him.

"Yes Governor, praise be to our holy cause," enthused the young man. "Josh Whitcom be my name."

"Welcome aboard, Josh," Keto replied. "You'll find the town's Brethren Meeting House a half-kilo past the Operations building. Look for the steeple.

"As you know, the mustering locations for all of you are identified by your visa files, just follow the signs from the Op-Center," Keto announced, raising his voice again so that all the new arrivals could hear him. "Don't worry about getting lost. Aves is a big planet but Space Port City is a very small town."

Curious, Kate stepped further aside with her suitcase and watched the Governor greet the remaining passengers one by one. She had never even seen a planetary governor in person before, much less spoken with one. She had half expected some sort of official greeting, but certainly not from the Governor himself. She was after all merely a junior grade scientist. On the other hand, the man was greeting everyone, not only her. It must be something that he normally does, she realized. After all, there were only a few thousand humans on this planet, so in theory he could actually greet and meet each one as they arrived. Maybe he was merely friendly, or more likely, local elections were going to be held soon. In any case, she liked it. On Earth and even Mars, elected officials were for all practical purposes mere holographic or flat screen images.

Meanwhile the young Brethren man, Josh what's-his-name, marched past her without even offering her a glance. That was unusual behavior for any man between fourteen and a hundred fourteen Earth-years of age, and Kate wondered if she had lost her reasonably good looks somewhere between star systems, or if the guy simply had abnormal gene sequences and hormone levels for some reason or other. More likely, it was simply abnormal thought processes, honed by years of fanatical religious falter-garb. The Brethren were only one of thousands of fringe religious groups still active on Earth despite being overshadowed by centuries of ever advancing and all-encompassing fact-based, science established knowledge. They were pacifists and relatively harmless though, as far as Kate knew.

The man serenely stared straight ahead as he walked away, perhaps already looking for the Meeting House, where he would probably immediately re-submerge himself in mind-numbing Brethren chants and song. Compared with Earth and Mars, Aves frontier life was no-frills, low-tech, and involved a lot of physical labor. Now that Kate thought about it she realized that the Brethren were probably a perfect fit for frontier life on Aves.

For a few ridiculous moments Kate fanaticized herself paired with Josh, singing and muttering goofy phrases that sounded righteous and special because of the use of arcane, poetic sounding language, washing clothes by hand and cooking food prepared from scratch. Then sanity resumed and she laughed at the whole crazy idea. Still, he was tall, handsome, and athletic looking, and Kate wondered how it was that she had not even noticed him during the flight. His severe wardrobe alone, everything black or gray, should have made him stand out among the other passengers, who wore mostly flashy greens and reds in keeping with current Earth fashions. However as one of the Brethren, he wouldn't have been mixing with the other passengers any more than she had been.

Kate had conversed with several of the other passengers, particularly early in the flight, but found no one that she had very much in common with, knew any details about Aves, or even had a decent sense of humor. Her fellow passengers were mostly stoic farmers and other skilled laborers and technicians hired to become farmers, mechanics, or loggers. Most would help grow food crops or harvest timber. They were picked by a combination of screening and lotteries, as there were millions of applicants for each available position.

Nearly all of them were young couples that would help produce more Aves workers in their spare time. As a result there were very few unattached men on the flight or on Aves. Not that Kate was looking for one, or so she told herself. So far her skirmishes with the opposite sex hadn't been particularly promising, at least in an emotional or practical sense. Her focus in recent years was on her career, not on her love-life.

Rather than socializing, Kate had spent much of her flight time studying Aves, or at least attempting to study Aves. She had anticipated that the ship computer system would contain plenty of detailed information on Aves, including even scientific reports. That was standard procedure for any ship journeying to another planet, or so she had thought. She had been surprised and disappointed to find only a few superficial training briefs on Aves in the ship's computer system.

She peered around eagerly now at Aves, the wonder planet. After two centuries of active space exploration beyond Earth's solar system, mankind had finally hit the jackpot, for, although Aves was a new frontier, it was not a totally unfamiliar one. It was an amazingly Earth-like planet, already bursting with Earth-like life, and ripe for immediate colonization by humanity, and for growing food much needed on overcrowded Earth and throughout the Federation. Despite advances in synthetic food fabrication, naturally grown food was still aesthetically preferred and more nutritious. Soon because of Aves it would also be more economical.

From where she stood now, Space Port City, the capital of Aves, looked much like any Earth-side spaceport, though she knew that it was populated by only a few thousand settlers. The prominent feature of the immediate area, besides the hot, heavy, pungent atmosphere, was scorched concrete. Kilometers of landing field stretched in all directions, upon which towered hundreds of titanic cargo vessels similar to the one she had arrived on. This port hosted an enormous number of ships, far more than she had ever seen in one port, even on Earth or Mars.

The upright ships towered suggestively towards a deep blue sky, which except for having two yellow suns and being deeper blue, looked very much like an Earth sky, complete with scattered bits of fluffy white clouds slowly moving with the gentle breeze.

The atmosphere was much thicker here then on Earth, particularly in terms of nitrogen, but oxygen and carbon dioxide levels were not much above the Earth-norm. The air was incredibly clean compared to Earth's, though it was full of life byproducts, and very moist, particularly when compared to Mars. The air actually felt damp to her exposed skin, but so far the special, finely woven clothing she wore was doing a good job of wicking away sweat and letting heat escape from her body. Her hair covered head would pose the biggest problem. Though her head-hair was only about ten centimeters long, she already decided that she should definitely cut it even shorter. Fashions be damned!

Kate was looking forward to experiencing rain; she had experienced natural rain only twice in her life, both times on Earth. In the winter it would even snow here, something she had never experienced. The monstrous winter was a long time away, however, due to Aves years being more than twenty Earth-months long. Currently it was just past mid-summer and Aves temperatures were near their peak.

She could see in the distance beyond the edges of the landing area huge space-craft hangars, warehouses, grain storage buildings, and lumber yards. On the side of the landing field opposite the town a rich green wall of fields and trees rose. It was so far away that she couldn't make out individual trees, but this was definitely more living green than she had ever seen before.

As for the amazing giant birds that were responsible for the name of the planet, Kate was disappointed to find that none were immediately evident.

"You're going to work with John Weltman, Dr. Deborg? Isn't that correct?" asked the Governor, after he had greeted the last arrival and caught up with Kate.

"Yes sir, that's my assignment," she replied, as she matched the Governor's slow walking pace in the direction that the others had taken.

"Were you told anything else about your assignment? If it doesn't break your protocol to tell me, of course? Oh, and call me George or simply Keto, everyone does. We're pretty informal here on Aves."

Kate shook her head, still puzzled as to why she was talking to a Governor. "Sure, then call me Kate. The Directorate seemed anxious to send me, yes, but no, they didn't tell me anything specific. However, I'm an exoplanetary biologist and this is a newly discovered planet teaming with life, so I'm sure that there will be plenty for me to do."

"Of course, of course," agreed Keto, not sounding convinced. "It's just that as you do perform your duties, whatever those may be, you should keep in mind the general situation. I wanted to be sure that you understood that."

"I'm sorry, understand what?"

"The importance of our work here on Aves, Kate: the big picture. Our first big grain crop will be ripe and ready to ship to a hungry Earth in about a month or so. Harvest will continue then for several more months."

"Yes, your first big food crop is the top news on Earth, and the top news in the orientation materials shown on the flight. It's quite impressive, after only four Aves-years since the discovery of this planet. Enough food is expected from your first year of crops to feed a billion people on Earth for an Earth-standard-year, I understand."

"Yes, and that's only the beginning. This will mean a vast improvement in diet for humanity. Far less fabricated synthetic food will be necessary."

"And it's being grown by a few thousand pioneering settlers on a strange new world. The work involved must be incredible."

"You can't begin to imagine the half of it."

"Of course," agreed Kate, as she wondered why a busy planetary Governor was going over material with her that had been gone over a dozen times during her flight.

"I ask that you be sensitive to our situation here, Kate, that's all. For instance, you can't make public announcements about Aves or make reports to the Space Directorate unless they are cleared through my office. Also, all substantial reports including scientific ones must first go through the proper Corporation channels. That's our protocol here.

"This is a Corporation planet, not a public one. Access to even private interplanetary communications is through my office. Just work through Weltman while you're here and hopefully we'll be OK on that score. Weltman usually follows protocol, but then of course he didn't do that when he got you sent here, did he?"

"He didn't?"

"No, he certainly didn't. He went outside the Planetary Government and the Star Corporation and straight to the Space Directorate to get you, and the Corporation in particular isn't happy about it."

"They aren't? The Directorate often loans specialized personnel to the big corporations to aid in off-Earth studies. I didn't realize there was anything unusual in my case." It wasn't quite true. The Space Directorate Head herself had briefed Kate for this assignment, and that in itself was extremely unusual. The Directorate Head had informed Kate that she would be only the second Directorate scientist working on Aves. That was an extraordinary situation, but the Star Corporation had a lot of political pull, and had gone to extraordinary lengths to avoid scrutiny by anyone outside of Star. Why that was the case was one of the things the Directorate wanted to know. But that was all that the Directorate Head could or would tell her. Now she was having a similarly obscure conversation with a governor.

Keto slowed his pace and shook his head in astonishment. "They really haven't told you much, have they?"

Kate shrugged. "I studied a few superficial briefs on Aves during the flight in, and that's about it. I actually found more information about Aves before leaving Moon-Base 3 than I could find during the flight here."

Keto sighed. "Well, in that case I'll defer the rest of our discussion until after you've gotten your feet wet here. Fair enough?"

"Of course, Governor." Kate stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the still distant Operations Center and what stood beside it. "By the Gods!" she exclaimed. Her attention had been mostly directed at Keto. It had taken several minutes for what she had been glancing at in the distance to fully register. The Op Center that she had at first assumed to be a modest single story structure was really a large five-story office building, and the solitary tree that towered over it wasn't simply a big tree, it was titanic. It was three or four hundred meters tall, she estimated, tall as a spacecraft, and its girth far surpassed that of even the largest trees that centuries ago had thrived on Earth.

Keto chuckled. "You've just fully realized the true size of the tree near the Op Center. Everyone has a similar reaction when they see their first grown–up native tree in person. You've seen visuals of Aves trees in news stories and training briefs probably, but it's not quite the same as seeing them in person. You've seen our wood products on Earth or Mars of course?"

"Of course. Little souvenirs to start with, but now they're even making furniture out of the stuff. Mostly wood chairs, much like the ones seen in Earth museums, though much stronger. However, on Earth or Mars an Aves chair costs a month's salary."

"After we ship the food out, we'll be shipping plenty more lumber that we've had curing. Wood prices will drop rapidly, once our lumber processing operation is in full swing."

"Cheap wood? Even with all of the expenses involved?"

"Shipping costs are falling, due to mass production of trans-warp hyper-drive spacecraft and anti-matter."

"What about decontamination?"

"Wood decontamination? It's cheaper than you'd think. There's plenty of free radiation and vacuum in space to expose the wood to before it even leaves the Aves system. Food decontamination will actually be a bit trickier but still cheap. Radiation spewing twin suns come with certain advantages."

"And what about the environmental impact to Aves?"

"Trivial, compared to the total planetary system. This planet has twice the land that Earth has, and most of it is wooded. We plan to clear only a small fraction of the total land area. Besides, we're not simply clear-cutting, we're leaving plenty of forest intact. But then you're probably the expert in the environmental impact field."

"Hardly. I'm a novice. But the scientific research opportunities for study on Aves are enormous, and I'm really excited about being here and being part of it."

Keto's smile faded. "Research opportunities? Yes, of course. You'll need to discuss that aspect of your stay with Weltman." Kate had the distinct impression that he was holding back something that was important.

They approached the tram. It was similar to a museum bus that Kate had seen once during her childhood, but larger. She noted that wheels two meters in diameter were used instead of electromagnetic hovering. Wheels were primitive but very energy efficient. Kate remembered reading that most fuel on Aves is derived from the fermentation of native plant-life that is being cleared away. Gasoline they called it, based on old tradition, but it was actually largely alcohol.

All the other passengers were already in their seats by the time Kate and George climbed aboard the tram. It was partially air-conditioned, thank the Gods; it was shady and at least ten degrees cooler in the bus. Though it was still early morning it was already uncomfortably hot outside, and Kate felt that the ride would have been unbearable without air-conditioning.

George spoke into his wrist-COM and the auto-piloted tram started to ponderously roll towards the Op Center, which must have been still at least two kilometers away, even though it was at the apex of a peninsula of buildings and green that jutted far out onto the vast concrete landing field.

From her front seat next to the Governor, Kate observed the wondrously huge tree as the big tram approached the OP Center. She had of course seen trees before; scattered remnants of Earth's forests were still cultivated in protective enclosures by a few rich collectors and by a few local governments on both Earth and Mars. She had studied old books on trees, and she had even seen a forty-meter specimen once, alleged to be the largest remaining tree on Earth, in an arboretum in New Chicago.

She had seen a somewhat larger tree on Mars, where much more consideration was given to plant life, due to dependence on plants, fungus and bacteria to accomplish much of the vast Mars terraforming project. Paradoxically, oxygen production on Earth was now predominantly artificial, while Mars oxygen production was predominantly natural. Biological terraforming methods had proven to be even more effective than nanotechnology, though tiny nano-bots accomplished much of the initial physical rendering of Mars rock material. The latest projections estimated completion of the Mars Project in only three more centuries. Born and raised on Mars, Kate often dreamed of being able to go about outdoors on Mars without breathing apparatus. On Earth, breathing filters were common because of pollutants and disease. Not having to use any breathing gear was a rare luxury for any human anywhere.

The tree she was looking at had to mass over a thousand times as great as the largest Mars tree. When the bus pulled to a stop at the Op-Center Kate and many of the other newcomers walked towards the tree wide-eyed and gawking, drawn by its awesome size and natural beauty, to gather at the edge of the wide patch of short-trimmed grass that surrounded it. A few partly dried leaves one to two meters across were scattered on the ground, and with difficulty Kate picked one up. It felt like a gigantic centimeter-thick rubbery mat, but looked amazingly familiar. "This is a tulip tree leaf," she mumbled, puzzled.

"You'll find that many life forms here are very similar to some Earth counterpart," said Governor Keto, who had appeared next to her.

Kate dropped the heavy leaf onto the grass. "I had expected similarity of course, due to convergent evolution in an environment similar to that of Earth, but not virtual identity of species. Except of course for the size, I've seen tulip trees on Earth and Mars exactly like this one. I simply can't imagine that even convergent evolution could account for this degree of similarity."

Keto looked uncomfortable. "That's a problem for the science staff, Kate. But even they are much more interested in the Earth corn, wheat, soybean and rice crops we grow than in local life forms. In our view and in the view of Earth it doesn't matter much what the local life forms are or where they are originally from. What matters is bringing in the food crop for hungry Earth bellies."

Kate was familiar with speculation that Aves life originated on Earth or visa-versa, but she also knew that such theories had been quickly denied by the Aves scientific community and played down by the Federation and the official press. Now that she was seeing Aves first-hand, her first impression was that such speculation could have merit. Standard techniques such as genetic analysis must have quickly settled the issue, but as far as she knew no solid scientific results had been made public. Why?

She would have discussed the issue with Keto, but several of the new arrivals were staring up into the tree and pointing. Kate followed their gaze and was startled to see, thirty meters above them on the lowest set of branches, what looked like several huge birds staring back at the humans.

"They're shy now folks; too many people," said a uniformed man carrying a large plastic bag who had come out of the Op-Center to greet the new recruits. "But if you'll stay quiet and avoid fast movements, I'll show you what they look like up-close." With that he walked out onto the lawn, dumped from the large bag dozens of rolls and loaves of bread over the grass, and returned to the crowd of newcomers.

There were startled gasps from several people, and Kate looked up again to see one of the birds dropping gracefully down from the tree. It was huge. It had a wingspan of over three meters, and even with a stooped stance it stood more than a meter tall when it landed next to the bread. As it cocked its head and trained a large eye on the crowd, Kate recognized it to be some sort of sparrow, but hundreds of times larger than the tiny creatures she had seen in exhibits and aviaries on Earth and Mars.

"CHEEEP," it said shrilly, and four others immediately dropped down from above and joined it. In less than half a minute all the bread was gone; either gulped down in big chunks or carried off in huge beaks. Strangely, the first bird hadn't taken any bread at all, but instead kept watch on its surroundings, including the humans. As it stood between them and the other birds, it cheeped almost continuously. It only flew away after the others had gone, following them towards a distant line of trees.

"That was a sparrow, George," Kate stated.

"Yes, I've been told by others that they do look a lot like Earth sparrows," agreed Keto. "Whatever they are, they're harmless to humans, and they eat the damn bugs. You can't yet imagine what a blessing that is."

"They're wonderful," said an excited woman standing nearby. Kate recognized her as one of the new farmers. "But they scare the hell out of me, they're so big. Even with feathers, they must mass over thirty kilos apiece."

"Yeh," seconded another farmer, a big hairy man with a deep booming voice. "In our training they said there used to be trouble with the birds, but now things are OK. Can you tell us more about that, Governor?"

"Certainly. Some of the bigger birds used to be dangerous, but they've learned to stay away from us, and we've pretty much learned to stay away from them. The smaller ones come around regularly, but they don't cause trouble. To the contrary, for about two Aves years now we've had a sort of understanding with them. We don't kill birds anymore except in self-defense, and we let them eat the bugs and rodents in the fields and in our towns. They eat some of our crop also of course, but they protect a lot more for us to harvest. They let us clear the land and have most of the grain we grow. It benefits both us and the birds."

"An understanding with them?" asked the first woman. "That sounds like they're intelligent."

"To a degree, they have to be," said the uniformed man. "Smart as Earth dogs, perhaps. But they're wild animals; never forget that."

"I seen real bees once," said another woman, grinning. "My mama says there used to be bees all over Earth when she was a kid, and they could sting people. But if you let them be, they'd just go about their business and not bother folks. That's what the training said to do with the birds and bugs here."

"Exactly right," agreed the uniformed man. "I've been here almost two years, but I've followed that protocol and I've never had any trouble at all with birds or bugs. It takes a little while to get used to seeing them, that's all."

"They flew away. Will they come back?" asked a man.

"Not today," replied the uniformed man. "No more ships coming in. They come when they see a ship land, because they know I'll be out here with the bread, doing my little demo for newcomers like you folks. This close to the spaceport we chemically repel and if necessary poison the bugs, and there isn't much plant-life except for this one tree, so the birds don't have much to eat here. You'll be getting some more lectures on insects and other nasty creatures, by the way. They're actually more dangerous than the birds."

"Right. We heard that the bugs are big here too," said a woman.

"They'll probably give you nightmares for a while," confided the uniformed man. "But if you keep up with your daily protocol of bug repellent pills, they won't come closer to you than several meters."

"What about that bird?" asked one of the men, who pointed up into the tree. Standing motionless on a lower branch as it stared back at the humans was a totally black bird, considerably larger than the other birds that they had previously seen.

"Oh, that's just Blackie," laughed the uniformed man. "He just hangs out here a lot, watching. Nobody knows why."

The crowd gradually dispersed on foot, following directions provided on signs posted outside the Op-Center. Keto had disappeared. Kate stayed for a few more minutes, studying the tree and the lawn and the soil that they grew in. Soil was key from a biology perspective, she knew. On Mars, solar and chemically powered nanotechnology helped to break up rock, and bio-engineered microscopic life forms were used to provide most of the complex chemical changes, but here on Aves, Earth-like soil already existed in great abundance. Soil which, curiously enough, supported food crop plants imported from Earth to grow on Aves.

As complex and specific as plant nutrient requirements were, how was such a thing possible? On Earth soil dwelling micro-organisms and plant life co-evolved over a couple of billion years in close symbiosis. How could the soil here be Earth-plant friendly? The odds against it seemed astronomical. Yet Earth crops thrived here which were intended for human consumption. How could crops that absorbed alien biologicals and associated chemicals be both safe and nutritious for Earth humans? The publicly stated explanation was again convergent evolution, which was said to result in life all over the universe that was by necessity very similar, given a strong similarity in environments.

The required degree of convergence seemed absurd to Kate. Even if the general form of life on the two similar planets was very similar, the odds were strongly against multiple individual species on different worlds being identical except for size. Arbitrary differences in history should have led to some significant differences in basic life chemistry, as well as differences in the basic physical forms that the life took. Identity at the species level was totally absurd. But what she had seen so far appeared to be identical species except for size. Why?

Kate's visa assigned no place for her to go; it only named Weltman as her point of contact. Location was probably omitted because it was so obvious, she reasoned, as she continued along the road beyond the Operations Center. She saw no more birds, but she encountered dozens of people wearing work clothes; Corporation uniforms color coded to signify job and rank. Most wore wide brimmed hats that helped shade the bright suns. All of them were on their way somewhere; on foot, in primitive electric powered or alcohol powered vehicles, or even using human powered bicycles of a design centuries old.

Noticeably absent from the people she encountered were the electronic ear-ware and eye-ware devices that billions of Earth people were addicted to. These people were not 'networked' the way that most Earth people were. On Aves they didn't have the infrastructure or time for such things. This was a frontier planet like Mars, where almost everyone was busy working. Kate liked that. On Earth most people sat on their duffs most of the time, and either wore rags or trendy, flashy clothes along with escapist networking devices. Earth was a dying planet, and not only because of ecology problems. Earth was mostly one gigantic, polluted slum, and the human spirit suffered as a result. 'Failure to thrive' is what the psychologists called it. Centuries earlier, the phenomenon was seen mostly within the big city slums, but now it was rampant everywhere on Earth. People were depressed; the entire human civilization on Earth was depressed. Off Earth everyone worked, and had survival and an improving future to thrive towards.

Like Mars, Aves was a fresh, exciting new world. But there was something very strange about Aves, something that already bothered Kate. As she walked she realized what it was. Aves was far too much like Earth, or rather, too much like Earth probably was many hundreds of years ago. She felt at home here far too quickly. She couldn't trust it; it seemed too good to be true.

Kate hadn't bothered to inquire for more information on her assignment at the Operations Center, since she knew exactly where she would have to be working. At five stories high the massive steel, glass, and ceramic Science Building towered over every other building in sight, and was only a short distance up the main road from the Operations Center. The building was simple in construction and new, reminding Kate of the utilitarian architecture on Mars.

She entered and found herself in a small lobby, and in the presence of a bored looking, middle-aged woman receptionist sitting behind a small wooden desk. Posting a living receptionist behind a wooden desk seemed downright medieval. "Can I help you?" she asked Kate, with a too-wide smile.

"Yes, thank you; I'm Dr. Katherine Deborg. I'm supposed to report to John Weltman."

"Yes, we've heard you were coming to Aves. Dr. Helmins wanted to see you personally if you happened to came here. I'll ring him for you."

They heard she was coming? Dr. Helmins wanted to see her? If she happened to come here? Wasn't she supposed to report here? She had heard that the entire science staff of Aves had offices and laboratories in this building; where else would she go? She knew that Dr. Helmins was the chief Corporation scientist and lead Corporation executive on Aves, since he appeared frequently in Federation-wide news stories. At some point she had hoped to meet him, but hadn't expected to do so on her first day. The Governor, and now his counterpart in the Star Corporation's bureaucracy, both wanted to see her. Why was she getting VIP treatment? "What about John Weltman? Is he available?"

The woman again smiled but shrugged. "Oh, I wouldn't know about that."

Before Kate could respond, a tall, thin, smiling, middle aged man appeared from out of the depths of the building. She recognized him immediately from training videos and from Earth and Mars-side news releases. "Dr. Deborg? Welcome to Aves. I'm Mark Helmins." He held out his hand.

Kate returned his smile, stepped towards him, and shook his hand firmly. "Thank you, Dr. Helmins; I'm very excited to be here on Aves. It's a great honor to meet you, sir."

"George tells me that you don't know why you're here."

"He also said that I didn't get assigned here through normal channels. As to what I'll be doing, I'm of course anxious to know the details of my scientific assignment now that I'm here."

"Scientific assignment? In that regard I may have some unsettling news for you, I'm afraid."

"Unsettling?"

Helmins ushered Kate into an office off the lobby, closed the door, then sat down in a wooden chair behind a small wooden desk, and motioned for her to sit in the chair that faced the desk. The office was small and bare; obviously not Helmins' actual workplace. Still, he looked more comfortable sitting behind a desk. "Yes. I'm afraid that your assignment is not a scientific one; or at least it is not an assignment within our Corporation scientific community here."

Kate felt like she had been slapped across the face. Her assignment was not a scientific one? "I don't understand; there must be some mistake."

"I'm afraid not. I wanted to greet you as a matter of professional courtesy, but you are not being assigned to work with my science staff. Do you even know who John Weltman is? Have you ever heard of him?"

"No. I just naturally assumed that he was part of your senior science staff and that he had an office and laboratory in this building."

"I'm afraid not. John Weltman is our Sheriff here on Aves."

"Your what?"

"Sheriff. An antiquated term. An elected official that is supposed to keep the peace."

"You mean a public arbitrator? A policeman?"

"More or less. Mostly less, actually; most of the real policing on Aves is done by the Corporation security force. The Sheriff position is largely an honorary one."

Kate was still in a state of shock. "But I don't understand. What am I doing here?"

"Weltman has some strange ideas, I'm afraid. He wanted us to help him with them, but it wasn't anything that the Corporation was interested in pursuing with him. So he took advantage of a little known Federation law that allows any off-Earth elected official to ask directly for help from the Space Directorate."

"Help? Help for what? What strange ideas?"

"I think he should be the one to tell you those details. But let me ask you something, if I may. Do you know why the Space Directorate picked you for this assignment?"

"Right now I don't have the slightest idea."

"Our sources say that your doctorate is in exoplanetary biology. What is your specialization?"

"I wouldn't say that I even have one yet."

"I see. But you find Aves life interesting?"

She nodded. "Of course I do. Very interesting, but also very puzzling. Since I got here, I've seen nothing but Earth species, or at least outwardly they look exactly like Earth species, though in gigantic form. How can that possibly be explained?"

"We have some ideas on that, but I'm not at liberty to divulge them."

"You're not at liberty to divulge them?"

"I'm afraid not. Doing science within a corporation is a little different from doing it in a university or government environment. Eventually, when we're sure about our facts, we'll publish our findings, of course. But I believe George also mentioned the need to go through channels here?"

"He did so most explicitly."

"Well, in addition to that, you won't generally have access to our scientific work here, which is proprietary to the Corporation, though if you do have specific questions, feel free to get in touch with my office and I'll see what I can do." He stood up, shook Kate's hand, and ushered her out of the office and into the lobby, signaling an abrupt end to a very unsettling discussion. "Good luck!" he added, as he departed through a door into the bowels of the building.

Dismissed, Kate was left alone in the lobby. She stood in shock for a few minutes before moving towards the exit.

"The Sheriff Office is easy to find; simply continue along this road to the edge of town and you can't miss it," added the receptionist with the fake smile when Kate walked past her desk. Kate was too numb to respond.

She exited the Science Center shaking her head, so stunned that anger came only slowly as she mentally digested her situation. No access to scientific work? So why the hell was she here on Aves? What did a sheriff need a scientist for? She had been looking forward to this assignment as something that would be truly extraordinary, something that would advance her career. Now those hopes had been shattered.

As she walked away she happened to look across the narrow street at the Brethren Meeting House, taking in its old-fashioned appearance. It looked exactly like the Brethren Meeting Houses on Earth, all gaudy with steeples and spires. It struck her that it was a large church, given the sparse population of Aves.

Only thirty meters from her atop one of the lower church spires perched Blackie, or a bird very similar to Blackie. This close she could see it in frightening detail. It was all black, but in the full light of the suns the feathers had a green and purplish sheen to them, which she knew was caused by the diffraction of sunlight by its feathers. The bird looked amazingly like a once-common Earth blackbird, the grackle. Its size was startling; its body mass must have been at least twice that of a large man, though the layers of feathers that covered it made it appear much larger. Its thirty centimeter-long beak looked capable of deadly force, as did the powerful talon-tipped toes that it used to cling to the spire.

Even more startling, as Kate looked at it in wonder she quickly realized that it was staring back at her ... a sharp piercing gaze that suggested keen alien intelligence. The bird's cold eyes followed her every footstep away from the Science Center.

****

CHAPTER 3

BROWNIE

"Caw, caw, caw," cried the crows angrily. "Crow killer, crow killer, crow killer." Angry but clearly concerned about Blue's demonstrated fighting skills, the six crows paused their attack. "Blue death, blue death," one of them squacked.

This was a jay the like of which they had never seen before. He stood tall before them, atop the body of his latest kill, legs spread, feathers ruffled, eyes cold and beak covered with crow blood, ready to strike and kill or maim still more of them.

He tensed as if to spring at them and the crows cowered back, stumbling, half turning away from Blue and holding wings up while ducking their vulnerable heads low and behind a screen of black feathers. Four of the crows were very young, Blue noticed.

One of the more mature crows suddenly cried out loudly in plain language. "The New Order," she crowed, over and over. The others soon took up the strange chant, and as they did they seemed to rediscover their courage. They turned again towards Blue and held themselves erect, eyes on the jay and beaks open as they chanted together. Then as one, all six again advanced on Blue.

"KEEEEEE," came the sudden call of multiple red tailed hawks from above, as three blue bodies came hurtling down from the trees to knock three of the crows off their feet and away from Blue. The largest of the attacking jays hopped close to Blue while the other two flapped wings and yawed angrily at the scattering crows. The big jay was Scar, and the other two were Bob and Nod. "Fly away from this place, Blue Dawn Jay," ordered Scar. "The crows will regroup soon. Follow me."

"I can't leave this exhausted creeper," said Blue, nodding towards the panting, open beaked, wide eyed little brown bird that huddled behind and underneath him.

"Carry him then," replied Scar. "You're big enough." With that he hopped into the air and flew off, low and fast.

Blue had never carried another bird in flight. He had seen songbird parents carry their downed chicks to safety, but never did one adult bird carry another, except as prey. It was a thing that raptors did, not songbirds. Still, Blue didn't hesitate a moment. He grasped the creeper at the base of one wing with his left foot and hopped awkwardly up with his right leg while executing a strong downward wing stroke.

They were airborne, barely. Blue's grasp of the creeper held, despite the slipperiness of the little bird's feathers. They flew safely over the reaching heads of the regrouping crows before the awkward black birds could take wing, but the creeper suddenly thrashed about violently and cried out in panic: an uncontrollable reaction to being grasped like prey and carried off. "Hold still," Blue admonished repeatedly, as he pumped wings furiously to catch up with Scar, with Bob and Nod following close behind. The little bird's struggles subsided but did not cease.

Scar dodged around tree trunks and branches skillfully, while Blue awkwardly followed, the squirming creeper providing unaccustomed wind resistance as well as extra weight. Blue's dodging of obstacles in the dense growth was especially difficult, as he had to take into account both the added weight and the dimensions of the dangling creeper. Worse, the small bird still squirmed. Just as Blue's tenuous grasp of the tiny bird was nearly lost, he managed to grasp one of the bird's tiny kicking legs firmly with his other foot. Though it was now upside down, the creeper's struggles further subsided, and Blue became more accustomed to his feathered burden.

A dozen cawing crows pursued the fleeing songbirds. Twice when crows tried to close on Blue, they were driven off by Bob and Nod, who both turned out to be very skilled fighters, and whose loud cries also helped hold the pursuing flock at bay. Scar expertly dispatched several crows that tried to get ahead of the fleeing songbirds.

Familiar with the area, the jay flock leader quickly led them directly into a stand of much smaller trees, where they had to dodge through very dense foliage. Though flying was problematic for Blue, it was totally impossible for the big awkward crows, who finally had to give up the chase.

Frustrated crow cawing was far behind them before Scar finally landed on the ground below dense undergrowth. Nod and Bob flew away yawing loudly, to lead away any potential crow pursuit. On foot, Scar led Blue deeper into thicket while the stunned creeper, following in Blue's shadow, scrambled along at the bigger bird's feet, often nearly tripping him.

Not being able to see very far through the dense leaves and twigs concerned Blue, as crows could be flying silently overhead close by, but at least now they were well hidden from above. After they finally stopped, Scar and Blue whispered quietly to each other while the exhausted, traumatized creeper huddled between them on a bed of leaves and immediately fell asleep.

"I am again in your debt, flock leader," said Blue, when he had caught his breath.

"Only doing our duty, young Blue. I watched it all from above. They didn't have cause to attack you or the creeper, not after they got the cardinal they wanted. Never have I seen such determination and ferocity in crows. I saw them attack you in flight!"

"They were trained to fight while in flight. Well trained, though many of them are very young."

Blue jays were not born with the agility and speed to be natural great fighters and flyers; they needed to train extensively to have any chance at defending against raptors and blackbirds. Raptors could count on superior inherent abilities, while blackbirds counted on wit and numbers. Training among blackbirds was unheard of until now.

"I agree. Fortunately you were trained even better. Never have I seen a jay fight so well, or show more dedication to protecting other birds. Of course you were pushing the limits of Law just a bit, but in our favor. Black Heart was wrong when he said you had abandoned the Pact of the Jays to be merely a songbird, and though I am myself no song master, I intend to sing a song or two myself about you and this day, if we live through it."

Blue was embarrassed. He had only done what he had to do. "I am jay," he explained simply.

Scar nodded. "Indeed. That much is certain. But the rest is muddled. Why was the leader of all crows in the World so determined to get at that particular cardinal? Why are they now so determined to get at you and the brown creeper? And how do I rid my woods of a flock of hungry crows so big that it threatens all other bird life within it?"

"I thought it the raving of an old sick bird at the time, but before he died Song Flame told me many strange things." Blue rapidly repeated to Scar what Song Flame had told him, note for note.

Scar shook his head. "I do not understand much of it, it is beyond me. I am simply a common forest jay, I have never even seen a Council member before, except for one early acquaintance of mine who later rose to perch in the Council. Was that old cardinal truly of the Great Council?"

"He was; and there he sang well for all birds. But he was very old and badly injured. I don't know if his mind was sound, at the end. Four months ago he went on a peculiar quest alone, following rumors of strange happenings in the Far South Forest. Birds sing."

Scar nodded. "Yes, birds sing. I too have heard dire rumors that the Law and the Balance have been forgotten, further south. There are rumors of other things so strange that there is no song that can be sung of them, including discordant notes of Old Ones. I thought it was all just odd song, maybe from young, loose singing, free-flyers, meant to shake up the nesting oldsters, as the young often have a mind to do, but now given the blackbird situation and the cardinal's story I am convinced that there is something truly odd actually happening, something very strange and very dangerous.

"What is this 'New Order' business that the crows were singing of?" Scar asked. "The crows are involved in the trouble in the Far South Forest somehow, I'd wager spring eggs on it. Besides, there have been far more blackbirds in the forest this season, even before you came, Blue Dawn. And they all fly in from the Far South Forest, mostly very young crows and grackles, as you have also noted, as though from a great recent hatching."

Blue nodded agreement. "Something is not right in the Far South Forest. There must be some measure of truth in what Song Flame sang."

Scar nodded his agreement. "If there is the slightest chance that the Old Ones have really returned, the Council should be told. And they should be told of our suspicions about the blackbirds also. The Council will then understand what is happening and know what should be done about it."

That's the way it's supposed to work, but Blue had seen too much of the Council to have Scar's apparent naïve faith in it. Scar's earlier digging remarks concerning the Council's preoccupation with trivia were uncomfortably close to the mark. Nevertheless, Song Flame had wanted Blue to carry his last song to the Council. It was the old bird's last wish. Blue had experienced enough questing to suit him for a long time, but he had no choice. "I will rest today and leave for the Council early tomorrow."

"Well sung, Blue Dawn. It will be dangerous alone, but I would be reluctant to order any of my own jays to go on such a quest so close after hatching time, given the crow situation here. We have already lost far too many eggs and hatchlings to crows and grackles, more than in the ten previous seasons. The Council must do something." Scar twisted his head as though a sudden new thought perplexed him. "Tell me, does Strike True still sing in the Council?"

"He does," replied Blue, who did not volunteer that he was the son of Strike True.

"Tell him of your encounter with me then, and that I said that this matter is very important."

"You know him then?"

Scar nodded. "From a long time ago, Blue, but I think he will still remember me. The Council is not the true work of most jays, but tell him also that I am very proud that he serves on the Great Council."

"That I will do," agreed Blue, though he was taken aback by the personal tone of the message.

"Fly low and fast then, young jay," said Scar. "The crows will still be looking for you."

"I am not afraid of crows," replied Blue. "I am jay."

Scar laughed, as he turned and hopped away. "Fly free, Blue Dawn Jay, and be always welcome to join my flock." It was the highest compliment that a flock leader could give to someone outside his own flock.

"Fly free, great Flock Leader Scar," returned Blue, not knowing what else to sing.

After Scar had gone, Blue foraged around the immediate area while the creeper rested, for it was mid-morning and Blue still hadn't had an opportunity to eat anything. He quickly found that there were many berries, a few acorns, many fat crawlers, both legged and non-legged, and even a small stream nearby. Occasionally Blue heard dozens of crows high above, sweeping the area, but he remained safely hidden by forest growth as he ate. Scar had taken Blue and the creeper to a perfect refuge.

However, judging from the cawing sounds, the big blackbirds had not left the vicinity, but were even now perched high above in practically every great forest tree, watching, waiting, and judging from the sounds made by terrified song birds and defending jays, attempting to feed on anything they found.

Blue crushed and brought a few crawlers back for the creeper, as creepers seldom ate anything but crawlers, but didn't wake him, as at the moment the little bird was obviously more tired than hungry. The tiny brown bird was a mystery. What was he doing with Song Flame in the first place? Perhaps if the little bird woke up before he left, Blue would ask him, though he doubted that he would get much of a response. Brown creepers weren't known for their intelligence.

Near dusk, when it was nearly time to sing away the light, the little bird woke up on his own, wide eyed and shaking with fear.

"You are safe, little one," Blue reassured him quietly in plain language. "We can sing now, but only using very soft tones, for crows may be near. What is your name?"

"Name is Brownie."

Blue nodded politely. Probably half the brown creepers in the World were named Brown or Brownie, though the names could be sung in hundreds of different ways in their own language, such that individuals could easily be identified.

"You should stay here for five days. Hide quietly and stay safe from the crows. Rest. Feed. Grow strong again. Listen for a day in which you hear no crows. Then fly away to your home flock; fly low and fast, under the cover of tree and bush, and fly very far."

The little bird apparently understood, as he nodded while he ate some of the crawlers that Blue had brought him. "Our friend is dead," said the creeper presently, after he had finally eaten his fill.

Blue nodded his head. He had been avoiding thinking of it, but there was no way around it. Song Flame, his closest friend and teacher, was indeed gone. "Song Flame was your friend also?"

The little bird nodded in agreement. "Song Flame friend, Jack friend, blackbirds not friends."

The creeper had sung the odd and meaningless word 'Jack' very strangely. Creepers are fairly accomplished little singers, but this note was sung very plain and thick. "Who is Jack?"

"Jack is human. Jack feed Brownie. Give songbirds nesting place safe from bad blackbirds."

"Hu-man?" This had been sung very strangely also; slow and very plain. "What is human?"

"Slow, plain singer, but very smart."

"Can you sing their song?"

The little bird nodded. Then he quietly sang a very strange song, full of very dull sounds much like 'Jack' and 'human'. Blue had never heard anything like it before. It reminded him of common Plain Song or crow song, though it seemed to be much, much slower and even duller. There was no beauty at all to it, no subtle messages hidden within complex sub-frequencies, and nothing at all that Blue could match with his extensive knowledge of bird songs. It was by far the strangest thing he had ever heard.

"That is human song? What does it mean?"

"Brownie sings 'I am a hungry bird, give me food.' Then Brownie gets food from Jack or friends of Jack. Brownie eats little crawlers, but big crawlers give Brownie human food."

"Big crawlers?"

"Humans be crawlers, not birds. No wings. No feathers. Four legs like furry crawlers but they walk on only two large back legs. Jack be crawler. Jack has big, big crawler nest. Big like big tree. Flat-faced featherless crawler named Jack gives songbirds food and shares his safe nest and food with many songbirds."

Shock of understanding hit Blue. Humans were the big strange crawlers that Song Flame had sang of as being Old Ones, and Brownie had actually sung with and lived among them! Remarkable! That behavior didn't seem to fit with the ancient songs of the Old Ones, however. In the end, the Old Ones fought great battles with the birds, according to the old songs. The birds finally triumphed and wiped out the Old Ones forever, or perhaps only drove them away; it was unclear which. "Are there many humans?"

"Yes, many; a great flock of humans with great nests, many places with nests. Great, big crawler nests, not bird nests."

The answer chilled Blue further. The Old One songs described huge, strange nests. "Are humans the Old Ones returned?"

Brownie didn't answer for a long time. "Brownie not know. Humans be humans. Big strange crawlers. Smart. Very smart. Brownie see humans. Humans sing. Brownie hear. Brownie learn to sing human song. Brownie not see Old Ones, not sing with them. Brownie not know what Old Ones be."

"Did Song Flame sing with humans?"

"No. Song Flame see humans, hear humans. Song Flame very frightened. Not sing with humans. Not live with them like Brownie."

Blue could understand why Song Flame was frightened of these legendary monsters. The Old Ones could not be trusted, it was sung. The Old Ones were first friends and masters to birds, and then they became deadly enemies, according to the oldest songs. "Do other birds sing with humans?"

"Grackles sing with humans."

Grackles. Jay-sized blackbirds, smaller than crows, but just as black hearted, clever, and shifty, and sometimes allied with their larger cousins the crows, when it suited them or Black Heart ordered it. Blue was startled by the notion of blackbirds singing with humans. What were they up to? "Do crows sing with humans?"

"Brownie not know."

"What about jays? Do blue jays sing with humans?"

"No. No jays live where humans live. Many blackbirds, many starlings, many cow birds, some songbirds, no jays."

The statement stunned Blue. Blue jays lived everywhere in the World, or so he had been taught. "Who protects the songbirds if there are no jays?"

"No birds protect songbirds," Brownie shuttered softly. "We die. Blackbirds hunt us."

Blue's head spun. This was a true horror story. "Do you know the song about The New Order?"

Brownie shivered. "Crow song. Grackle song. Bad for most other birds. Good for blackbirds. Also good for starlings and cowbirds that work for blackbirds and humans in the Far South Forest. Bad for other songbirds. Very bad for blue jays. Brownie has heard this bad song many times."

"Is it a human song?"

"No. Crow song, grackle song. Brownie tired now; Brownie sleep." The tiny bird immediately curled up into a little ball again and closed his eyes.

Blue studied the little bird. Brown creepers, like most tiny birds, were usually non-stop bundles of energy. This one had been through a lot though, escaping the crows with Song Flame. He was obviously of unusually high intelligence, for a creeper. Blue could well imagine Song Flame becoming acquainted with such an interesting little bird. Song Flame was a bird of all flocks.

Painful thoughts of Song Flame and his death filled Blue again. He felt lost. He would need to return to his own flock and lead a normal life, now that Song Flame was no more, but there would always be an enormous void in his life, from this point on.

First his new quest to reach Council had to be concluded. Blue nodded his head slowly as he stared at and further considered the little creeper. Now he knew why the crows wanted Brownie, and why Song Flame was flying with him. This little bird from the South Forest was full of information that the crows did not want the Council to know. Song Flame had merely seen the humans from a distance; Brownie had sung and lived with them. Already Blue had learned much information from him, much of it horrific.

Blue couldn't leave the creeper behind; he'd have to take the tiny bird with him, for three reasons: First, because the crows would still be after the tiny bird. Second, because he was needed as a witness. Blue hadn't seen or sung with these strange new crawlers, or witnessed that there were no jays to protect songbirds, but Brownie had. Blue needed to take Brownie to the Council. That must be what Song Flame was trying to do.

Most important, Brownie had been Song Flame's friend. Tiny Brownie, though exhausted and terrified, had actually attacked the evil king of all the crows of the World to defend the old cardinal. Blue promised himself that he would sing many songs of the little bird's amazing heroics when he had the chance, songs that would echo through all the forests of the World for all time. But first they had to escape, and they had to do it together.

How could that be done? The tiny bird was still far too weak to openly flee from even the clumsy crows. Worse, what if grackles joined the hunt for them? The grackles were evidently allied with these crows. Grackles were as swift and maneuverable as jays, and averaged sligtly larger than jays. He couldn't wait for the creeper to fully rest himself, for the crows, possibly with grackle help, could mount a ground search long before then.

Also, as Scar had said, the crows were a terrible danger to this forest. Such a huge flock had to feed, and would feed on anything and everything if they stayed here for long. Even now, the dusk was ominously silent. Songbirds in the area were not singing away the great light, and probably would not sing the return of the light at dawn either. Blue could sense a tension in the air, as if a great storm were threatening.

Suddenly Blue heard the soft sound of wings nearby, and then the rustle of something at ground level, walking towards them quietly. Blue stood alert, poised to fight whatever came.

"Yaw-Yaw," sang both of the new arrivals, though it was whispered very quietly, almost as quiet and sweet as a tender love song of a jay to a beloved mate. "Blue Dawn Jay, it is Nod and Bob!"

Blue relaxed as the two jays hopped into view. "What are you two doing here?"

"We came to join your quest," answered Bob.

"Quest, quest," echoed Nod.

"I am not your flock leader; I am a stranger jay."

"You are jay, we are jay," answered Bob.

"We helped you escape today, we can help you escape tomorrow," explained Nod.

"But it is still hatchling time!"

"Egg eating crows," hissed Nod, angrily.

"Crows, crows, crows," hissed Bob, with bitter anger. "Two months ago. Too many to stop. Crows ate our eggs. Too many crows this season; too, too many."

"Too many, too many," echoed Nod. "We would go with you to Council, to sing that there are too many crows. We have seen them. They have eaten our eggs."

"You are a great warrior, let us join your flock," said Bob. "We will help you fight the crows."

Blue considered it. Without them, he would have to fly defenselessly as he carried Brownie. He needed them, but there were serious problems with the idea. "I am not a flock leader," he explained. Indeed, that was a big problem for him personally. It was at the root of his difficulties with his father. He had forsaken his opportunities to become a jay flock leader to learn wisdom at the wing of Song Flame.

"For this quest, by Freedom of Flight, we sing that you are our flock leader, Blue Dawn," said Nod with conviction.

"Flock leader Blue, flock leader Blue," seconded Bob.

It was certainly not unheard of for birds to pick a flock leader in this way. But if a bird was already committed to a flock, it was a very serious matter to leave it, as Blue knew from personal experience. "You are of Scar's flock. You are needed here by Scar."

"We have Scar's leave to go with you; we sang to him of our plan earlier," explained Bob.

"Our nest is empty, this season we have no hatchlings to care for," lamented Nod. "Also, it is Freedom of Flight. Scar agrees."

Blue was stunned by the honor being given to him by these fine jays. At last he nodded in agreement, and his spirits improved greatly. "Then it is so. You do me a very great honor. Sleep well, my flock. We leave at the dawn of twin lights."

Blue slept fitfully. He despaired greatly over Song Flame's death. Also, the night sounds were unusual; the screech of hunting owls was far more frequent than he had ever heard before. The night time predators usually sought hairy crawlers that came out in nighttime, but Blue had a feeling that many birds would also not live to see the suns. Were the owls also in league with the crows, or where they merely taking advantage of the chaos caused by them? Or were they actually attacking the blackbirds? Blue didn't know. He was beginning to suspect that after finally finding Song Flame, and seeing his best friend die and be eaten by crows, he had embarked on a second, far more dangerous quest.

****

CHAPTER 4

JOHN AND THE ROC

It took Kate more than an hour to walk to the Sheriff's Office. By speaking with fellow pedestrians she first confirmed that it was located at the far edge of Space Port City, at least three kilometers away from all Corporation office buildings, storage warehouses, lumber yards, and apartments. The landscape she walked was dominated by small, primitive wooden houses and bicycle paths, an occasional huge tree or two, and at least one small bar for about every couple of dozen houses. It all reminded Kate most of old pictures and video she had seen of Earth centuries ago; Space Port City could have almost passed for a nineteenth century Earth town of perhaps five to ten thousand persons.

The abundance of drinking establishments was no surprise. The whole planet was advertised to be 'dry' alcohol-wise, but in true frontier style, the make-shift bars openly advertised boot-legged beer and whisky. Though it was more than an hour before noon, as she walked by several bars she heard loud music and glimpsed through open doors patrons already occupying many of the barstools.

Hot, hungry, thirsty, and tired of walking and lugging around a suitcase through the heavy wet atmosphere and high gravity, she was more than once tempted to stop at one of the less seedy looking bars. One man even whistled at her as she walked by and shouted some sort of suggestion that she didn't quite totally catch but could imagine. She smiled at that, the incident made her think of her frontier hometown on Mars. Men were men wherever they were, which had both its good points and bad.

The widely scattered houses were tiny, hastily constructed structures that reminded Kate of some of the shanty-towns on Mars, though here the houses were made of wood instead of heat-fused ceramics, except for the ceramic chimneys. Stacks of cut wood in every yard indicated that wood was actually used as fuel, something that had been inconceivable on Earth for hundreds of years. No smoke exited any of the chimneys, however; besides the fact that it was mid-summer and heating was only needed for cooking, the chimneys were doubtlessly equipped with scrubbers designed to remove nearly all particulates.

Other than the early-lunchtime bar crowd there were few people to be seen, and Kate reasoned that most inhabitants must be at work, which on Aves consisted largely of construction, logging, or farming. Walkers and bicyclers far outnumbered those with powered carts, so at least she didn't feel too out of place as she wheeled her suitcase down the road, occasionally dodging slow moving traffic.

She paused frequently to study wildlife and take still photos and videos with her COM. The further she got from the center of Space Port City, the more birds she saw. A few were sparrows similar to those she had seen at the Port, but other 'small' birds were more prevalent, particularly flocks of starlings and family groups of cow birds. On Earth most of these types of birds had lived in forest clearings and then in farmed areas, and finally in human cities and suburbs, where they eventually suffered near extinction. They seemed right at home here.

The birds were evidently patrolling the shanty-town for insects, which like the birds were enormous, many of them larger than her hand. A few were as big as cats or dogs. Most looked familiar, and she immediately entertained the outrageous notion that they were all of Earth origin, just as the birds and trees appeared to be. Whatever their origins they were fascinating; frightfully huge and ugly, but ornately colorful, odd, and of a size to easily observe.

A few meters ahead, Kate noticed dozens of arm-long chunks of tree bark mysteriously moving through the grass towards a meter-high mound of loose earth. When she got closer she realized that huge rat-sized ants were carrying the bark towards the mound, then up and into a hole at its top. She stood farther back and watched, alarmed by the size of the creatures, but fascinated.

Moments later a bird cried out from above and there was a flutter of great wings as half a dozen screaming starlings landed among the ants and stuck at them with sharp bills. The starlings were bigger than the sparrows and quick as Earth-leopards, and their blows were powerful and deadly. The ants immediately retreated towards their hole, where a few escaped, but the birds quickly killed most of them. A few of the insects were eaten, but most were picked up in strong bills and flown out of sight. Kate, stunned by the sudden violent episode, was relieved to see them gone, both ants and birds.

She could see why the birds were tolerated by humans despite their frightening size and power. The enormous insects they helped control were revolting, and besides being likely consumers of human crops and food, must be very dangerous. The training materials had emphasized bees, spiders, and other venomous creatures, but some of these creatures appeared to Kate to be large enough to attack and perhaps kill humans even without use of massive amounts of poisons. She felt extremely fortunate that the preparation regimen on the space ship had included ingestion of chemicals to repel all insect-like creatures. The ants were monstrous, and probably nearly all poisonous, to some degree, and carriers of all manner of pathogens. She shuttered to think about what sort of toxins and diseases that even an ant might carry.

She continued to see occasional grackles. These huge birds ate a few insects, but seemed for the most part to be occupied watching the other birds, as if they were overseeing their actions. Often they appeared to be squawking orders to starlings and cow-birds. Twice she saw grackles chasing sparrows away, while tolerating the cowbirds and starlings.

Several times she noticed a big black grackle watching her. The birds looked so much alike that it could have been Blackie, still following her, but she couldn't tell for sure if it was him or not. She assured herself that it was absurd to imagine that she was being followed by the same bird that she had seen at the Op-Center.

Although Kate was particularly fascinated by the birds and anxious to study them, she also felt strong apprehension, particularly with regard to the grackles. Was there a malevolent intelligence behind their dark stares? Seeing the huge, powerful birds in action was frightening. She had to keep reminding herself that they weren't hostile, and that they were only birds. But what did being only a bird mean here on Aves? The man at the port had said they might be as smart as dogs. Had their intelligence been determined scientifically? They were definitely exhibiting social behavior, though much of it could be instinctual. Had that been studied? On Earth or Mars she would simply access the applicable science via COM accessible computer networks; here on Aves she was apparently prohibited from doing that.

Ahead of her, the shanty town ended and a field of some sort of waist-high grain stretched into the distance for several kilometers to a distant line of trees. Scattered throughout the field hundreds of near human-sized black, gray, and gray and brown-headed figures strode purposefully, occasionally pausing and swiftly plunging their heads down into the grain. It took only a moment to realize that these were yet more birds, again starlings and cowbirds judging from the closer ones, feeding on insects in the fields. Scattered among the cowbirds and starlings were dozens of much larger grackles. The blackbirds strutted about pompously, heads bobbing, obviously watching the other birds and squawking at them, again as if they were directing their actions.

As she watched, a grackle loudly squawked and hundreds of starlings noisily took to the air on wings that spanned over four meters, and in seconds relocated to a new section of the field, where they resumed feeding. The scene reminded her of old videos of Earth birds feeding on lawn insects and worms, except that the scale here was skewed towards a surreal gigantism. These birds were each more than a thousand times more massive than their counterparts on Earth.

They were occasionally eating grain as well as insects, Kate noticed. She also noticed that hers appeared to be the only human eyes watching them. Most of the people she saw didn't pay much attention to any of the birds. This was obviously an example of the cooperation with the birds that Keto had spoken of, but advanced to an incredible degree. It was becoming increasingly apparent to Kate how so vast a crop could be raised by only a small number of humans. For each human farmer, there were hundreds of giant birds controlling hordes of ravenous insects.

At the edge of the field, where the road she had been walking on ended, stood a shockingly ramshackle building the size of a typical shanty home that featured a crude hand-painted sign over the porch that said simply "Sheriff's Office".

Any faint hopes she had of salvaging her assignment on Aves were shattered at that moment. She had a strong impulse to not even bother going in, but the door was open, so she walked to the doorway and looked inside.

A hairy, burly, mountain of a man wearing a cowboy hat and a star-shaped badge on his dirty tan work shirt lounged with his huge boot-clad feet propped up on a desk that faced the door at the front of the room. Kate said a silent prayer, hoping that this was not John Weltman. Behind him were three primitive jail cells, wire cages really. Two of them were occupied by filthy looking, snoring men stretched out on cots, the third cell was empty. As Kate stepped inside and out of the hot suns, one of the sleepers woke up, burped loudly, stumbled to the toilet along the rear of the cell, unzipped his pants and peed into the toilet with his back to her.

"You've got to be Mrs. Furly," stated the big man at the desk, sporting a wide smile. He was truly enormous; he must have massed two hundred kilos, most of it muscle.

"Furly?" Kate responded.

"Wife of the guy in cell two," he explained, pointing with a huge thumb to the middle cell in back of him, which held the still-sleeping, snoring man. "You called and said you'd come get him, assuming he can walk yet. He had a big night of drinking, if you catch my drift, but nothing unusual, him being a farmer. We made sure he got his anti-hangover pills, so he should come out of it fine. In a few weeks when the harvest starts the poor bastard won't have time for bars no more, so go easy on him; that's my advice to all you farmer wives."

"I'm not his wife. My name is Dr. Katherine Deborg, and I'm looking for John Weltman. Would that be you?"

"Nope," said the huge man, grinning as he rose from his chair and reached out to shake Kate's hand. Her hand and her arm halfway to her elbow disappeared in his surprisingly gentle grip. "Sorry, I should have known you ain't Furly from your Directorate scientist uniform, but I ain't seen its like in years. I'm John's deputy, Harold Forge, but folks call me Tiny, for obvious reasons. Sheriff Weltman had a bad night his own self. That's him in cell one." He pointed to the tan-haired, still peeing man that stood with his back to them. "John, there's a lady doctor here looking for you," said Tiny loudly over the sound of splashing urine.

"A what?" The man zipped up and turned to look wide-eyed at Kate, than shook his head as if trying to clear it. He was a relatively tall and perhaps handsome man in his early thirties that badly needed a shave and a bath. "Is this Thursday, Tiny? I told you to wake me when it was Thursday."

Kate's heart sunk when she noted that he wore a small, star shaped badge on his dirty work-shirt. Tiny wasn't kidding. This disheveled man was indeed Sherriff John Weltman, the man she had traveled half a hundred light-years to work with.

Tiny shrugged his giant shoulders. "Sorry boss. Guess I lost track too."

The sheriff shook his head again to clear it as he washed his hands and face in a small sink. "Lady, are you a scientist from the Space Directorate?"

"That's right."

"Shit. I was going to meet the Ship, and shave and so forth first."

"The ship disembarked passengers almost three hours ago," Kate noted.

"Sorry. Are you a bird expert, like I asked for? Where's the rest of your science team?" He hurriedly dried his hands and exited the cell by pushing the barred door open. The cell door wasn't locked. Neither was Furly's, Kate noticed.

Kate shook his still somewhat damp hand reluctantly. "I don't know what you asked for, but I'm a biologist, and I do know quite a lot about Earth birds. I don't know what 'team' you're referring to; the Directorate sent only me, as far as I know."

"They sent only you? You've got to be kidding! Hey, you're too young, and you don't even look like a scientist."

"What do scientists look like? You don't look like a sheriff to me."

"You ever see a sheriff before?"

"No. You ever see a scientist?"

"Too damn many. Most of them not worth spit."

"Well I certainly wouldn't want to change your notions of scientists Sheriff, so I'll just be on my way." Kate turned on her heel and walked out, considering for a moment if she should bother to stop at the Science Center and humbly beg Helmins for work, or head straight for the Op-Center for a ticket straight home. Straight home, she decided. The Directorate would be pissed; they would likely fire her when she got home. But the hell with it. Right now she was too angry to care.

This whole thing was crazy. Was she expected to work out of a jail cell, if she could find one not already occupied by drunk farmers or peeing sheriffs? What she thought was going to be the most exciting career experience imaginable had turned into a stupid bureaucratic fuck-up of some kind, one that had already cost her a month of her life to get here and would cost her another month to get back home.

Weltman was suddenly at her shoulder, walking along with her. "Hey, not so fast, Doc. Listen, I'm very sorry about the screw-up, but now that you're here, what's the rush?"

"I'm tired, hot, and pissed off, but I wouldn't want to miss a flight out."

"Not likely. No flights leaving Aves for at least a month."

Kate stopped dead in her tracks. "A month?"  
"Right. Or maybe even two months. By the way, the months here are twenty eight days so they're similar to Earth months, though the days are a bit longer. Can't help the years being so long, there are twenty months to an Aves year, and a couple leap-days in the mix also."

"Up to two months until an out-flight? Why?"

"Within two months they'll start to ship the crop out, once it's picked and processed. They're sort of collecting ships on Aves till then. Almost all the trans-warp transport ships that humanity has got are here already, as a matter of fact. In the meantime, how about doing some biology for me? You know, like I requested and you were assigned to do?"

"I don't know what you requested, but I don't think that it would be possible."

"Why not? You're a biologist, right? And you know about birds? I requested bird experts."

"I'm not an ornithologist. As a matter of fact there aren't very many of those, since there are damn few birds anymore, except here. But I do happen to know quite a lot about birds, much more than most biologists. Some of my undergraduate work was done at New Princeton on Mars. As you probably know, Mars indoor habitats harbor a lot of Earth flora and fauna. They have a huge aviary there, and most of my projects including my PhD thesis involved the study of actual living birds."

"Well, we've got plenty of actual living birds for you to study here on Aves, that's for damn sure. Big ones!"

She shook her head. "You don't understand. Helmins says that I won't have access to the research of his science staff. I'd be starting from scratch. Worse, I have almost no science equipment, or laboratory techs to perform specialized analysis. Science is something a team of people do, building on what other scientists have already done and are doing. I can't do it alone and working out of my suitcase."

"That reminds me," he said, as he reached into a pants pocket and unfolded some sort of hand-held electronic gizmo. He stepped closer to Kate and pointed it at her and then at her suitcase. It started to buzz loudly.

Abruptly he reached out to her shirt collar and yanked off a button, and before she could react he threw it onto the road and smashed it against the stones with his boot heel.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kate asked, outraged.

Weltman picked up the smashed button and showed it to her. Tiny strands of wire and other odd electronic bits spilled out of the broken button. "You were wired. Probably switched buttons with you on the ship. There's more in your suitcase too."

Stunned, she opened her suitcase and the Sheriff quickly found other 'bugs' on each of her shirts, which Kate smashed herself. "Son of a bitch!" she muttered angrily. "Bugging people that way is illegal, even for governments and law enforcement organizations."

"At least there don't seem to be any implants."

"Implants! You suspected I might have illegal bio-tech implants?"

"Stranger things have happened," he replied. "Now, where were we? What if I can get you some stuff?"

"Stuff?"

"An office to work in and some data, to start with. Some scientific reports too, probably. And someone to work with you in the field."

"How? And who?"

"Don't ask how. Maybe I have some connections. As to who, you're looking at him."

"You?"

"I'll do what I can. Listen, I have a degree in flight engineering. I was part of the original expedition that discovered and explored Aves, back when folks still talked to each other openly about what they were finding here and what they thought about it. I've lived here for seven Earth-years. I know more about this planet than the Corporation wants me to know, believe you me."

"You were part of the original Aves exploration team?"

"The co-pilot. The Corporation picked me up after I did a four Earth-year hitch in the Space Directorate, looking for smugglers ferrying drugs and what-not between the Earth and the Moon."

"So you know Frank Lambert then, the Directorate scientist already stationed here?"

"Sure. We're drinking buddies. I'll take you to see him, for all the good it will do us. He's not wrapped too tight, if you catch my meaning."

"They didn't tell me that. But then they didn't tell me much at all."
"I know about as much as anyone about the birds, too."

"OK, Aves expert, if you know so much, what do you need me for?"

Weltman looked all around, scanning nearby houses and trees. His searching eyes stopped when they found a grackle, staring back at him from a nearby roof top. "Come with me to where we can talk more freely, Doctor."

Kate followed his gaze then laughed. "You don't want to talk in front of that bird?"

"Correct," he replied, coldly serious. "Especially not in front of a blackbird. You get into the habit of being careful, if you want to live on Aves for long. Come with me, and we'll talk about it." He nodded to indicate a side street.

Kate hesitated. "I still haven't agreed to do anything for you, Sheriff, so what would be the point?"

"Listen, just let me buy you lunch, talk, and then you can make up your mind. What do you have to lose? You can't get off Aves for two months anyway. Besides, you've come a very long way to see Aves; why don't you relax and let me show you a little bit of it? I imagine that this place is a biologist's dream."

"Or nightmare." But she shrugged, her anger waning. OK, he was right, what did she have to lose? Besides, she was tired and starving. "All right," she agreed.

Weltman led the way up a well-traveled side-street. "It's not far."

"If it's air conditioned I'll like it just fine."

"Like a lot of places on Aves it's sort of partly air conditioned, by Earth standards. I'd offer to wheel your bag Doctor, but you seem like the independent type."

Kate pulled the suitcase handle over to him. "Not that independent. And call me Kate."

He smiled a little as he grasped her bag. "Call me John then, Kate. You'll find the place where we're going to eat lunch pretty damn interesting itself. It's owned by another of the original expedition crew. The expedition leader, as a matter of fact: Captain Jack Martin."

"THE Jack Martin? I remember seeing him in the early Aves news releases. He owns a bar now?"

"Not just a bar, THE bar. Wait until you see it."

"I've just walked past maybe a dozen bars. What's unusual about his?"

"First and foremost, it's got Jack in it, and besides being an interesting guy and a truly great man Jack knows about as much about Aves and its birds as anyone alive. Second, there's the decor."

"What about it?"

John Weltman laughed. "You'll just have to see it."

The rest of the walk involved small talk, mostly. John was particularly interested in hearing about Mars. Despite his pilot profession while in the Directorate and the Corporation, he had never set foot on Mars, and was immensely curious to find out more about it from a Mars native.

Weltman didn't want to talk a great deal about himself, but Kate was able to pick up bits and pieces that led her to believe that after the discovery of Aves he had some sort of personal and professional difficulties and a serious falling out with the Corporation. They would have shipped him off Aves a dozen times over, except that like Jack Martin, his being part of the original expedition gave him the legal right to stay as long as he wanted to.

Weltman explained that the blue collar workers that elected him Sheriff liked the idea of a man that wasn't in the Corporation's pocket. The Corporation didn't mind him being Sheriff as long as he didn't seriously cross them. He was definitely in hot water with them over directly requesting scientists from the Space Directorate, but he didn't give a shit. Kate liked his attitude.

After a short time she couldn't help but notice that they were walking towards a large stand of trees that stood between the outskirts of Spaceport City and a huge field of what looked like waist-high Earth corn. The trees were immense; many of them far exceeded in size the one at the OP-Center. This relatively small patch of forest encompassed more living material than she ever imagined.

Traffic picked up again the further they went; most of it still men and women on bicycles or walking, and much of it headed in the same direction that they were going. There were also motorized carts, but only a few. Most powered vehicles were constructed of solar energy absorbing composites that powered nearly silent electric motors.

Everyone they came across smiled and waved at Weltman, and many warmly greeted him verbally and shook his hand. He responded in kind. Kate's opinion of the Sheriff gradually improved. Besides, when smiling, he was almost handsome.

At the edge of the grove of trees the gravel road that they had been walking on abruptly stopped and was replaced by one made of some sort of dark brown chunky substance. Kate picked up a piece of it before she realized that it was tree bark. Other chunks were wood chips.

"The Captain says they used to use tree scraps this way on Earth too," commented Weltman, "years ago, before most of the Earth trees were gone. On Aves it's used for most of the roads. It won't hold up as good as stone or ceramics, because it composts into dirt and some of the damn bugs eat it away quickly, but as long as the lumber industry is going strong it's probably going to be the road material of choice. Stone is pretty hard to come by, in most areas, and the birds are always eating it, if it's the right size for them to use in their gizzards. South of here we found the ancient rocky remains of an extinct volcano that furnished most material for the concrete landing field. Having a good source of stone is one big reason that we built the port here. But bark and chips is better than mud anyway. In the Spring we have melting snow and rain on much of Aves like you wouldn't believe."

They walked past a large hand-painted sign:

'THE ROC BAR.

Thirsty friends with credits welcome,

Official Corporation business PROHIBITED.

Private Property; stay on the paths,

and if possible try to NOT feed

or disturb THE DAMN BIRDS.'

"This is the largest patch of privately owned land on Aves," explained John. "It includes the grove of trees and the surrounding corn field. The Captain got it by right of discovery in accordance with Directorate laws; if it was up to the Corporation he'd be long gone."

"He's a troublemaker like you?"

John laughed. "Not exactly. He's a troublemaker in a class by himself. Even the Corporation has to respect him. He's an icon, an institution. I'm just a minor elected official. Very minor."

She glanced back at the sign. "What does the Captain have against birds?"

"If you were here several Aves years ago, you wouldn't have to ask that question. We old timers have all lost friends and loved ones to bird attacks. Not to mention fingers, ears, arms, legs, etc. The birds were damn near as bad as the bugs. But the Captain has made his peace with the birds, or at least with some of them."

"What have you lost?"

Weltman suddenly sobered and tensed, as hate and perhaps despair filled his brown eyes. "Plenty," he said coldly, almost spitting the word. "Enough so that I don't care to talk about it, not even to myself. Especially to myself."

Conversation stalled awkwardly at that point, and Kate focused more on the forest, and made remarks about what she observed to the sullen Weltman. Gradually he began to calm down and discuss Aves with her again.

The trees and other life forms were indeed remarkable. Acorns the size of coconuts littered the ground beneath impossibly huge Oak trees. Pine-cones as big as watermelons lay beneath pine trees. Golf-ball sized wild berries grew on bushes bigger than houses. Startlingly loud birdcalls of several types came from tree and bush, and Kate fleetingly saw several huge birds, busily pursuing and eating the frightfully large insects that crawled, hopped, and flew everyplace, and eating berries and other plant life.

She recognized immediately that the insects were again ants, beetles, flies, and other familiar Earth insect types, though of gigantic size. She wasn't an insect expert, but to her all of them certainly looked like Earth creatures. Several dragonflies with meter and a half wingspans darted among the birds, catching flies nearly as large as earth rats. Despite her scientific training to view nature objectively, her skin crawled at the sight of them. She glanced about nervously, anxious that the bugs would attack her and Weltman, but they all remained several meters away from the humans, as advertised.

"Yep, it's the bugs that bug everyone the worst," said Weltman, observing her reactions. "A bee sting or spider bite can be fatal. Before the biochemists came up with effective bug repellent, it was touch and go here, between the bugs and the birds. They damn near named this planet Bug World, but I heard that the Corporation wisely axed that bright idea. That would have made it a lot tougher to get settlers to come here, that's for damn sure."

Kate identified additional bird species, including finches, warblers, a squat little brown wren that seemed to have an over-sized head, and an even smaller bird with prominent green coloring that hovered before one huge flower after another, acquiring nectar using its long beak. The rapid flapping of its wings made a strange deep sound. "That's a male ruby-throated hummingbird, but it's big as an Earth eagle!" she exclaimed. "Just think how big an Aves eagle would be!"

John smiled widely at her remark, and Kate was glad to see that he was fully out of his earlier gruff mood.

She heard The Roc Bar before she could see it, in the form of retro-rock electric guitar, drum, and synthesizer noise that emanated from deeper within the forest. Turning a curve in the path she saw that filling a small clearing ahead was the oddest building that she had ever seen in her life. It looked like it may have started as an unusually large but conventional wooden house, but on top of it and all around it were dozens of strange additions, many of them larger than the original building.

No two sections of the resulting structure matched in terms of architecture or color. The building was a crazy-quilt patchwork of boxy multi-colored cubes, cylindrical spires and rough-planked rectangular barns. There were stained-glass windows and doors leading to a dozen haphazardly protruding wood decks. This was more processed wood than she had ever before seen in one place, Kate realized, with the exception of the titanic stacks of curing lumber she had glimpsed closer to the space port. A few of the Corporation buildings at the port were larger, particularly the warehouses and grain storage bins, but they were constructed of metal and ceramic composites, not wood.

The entrance at the end of the driveway they were following was almost totally blocked by an assemblage of dozens of bicycles and motorized carts of all sizes. Open double doors led into a barn-like section that appeared to be the largest part of the structure.

As she stepped into the dimly lit building Kate first noticed the air-conditioning. The air was at least ten degrees cooler and much drier inside. Though still hotter and damper than she was used to, it was much more comfortable here than outside.

Her attention was immediately drawn to the crowded bar at the left side of the huge room, the half-dozen motley looking musicians to the right side of the room, and the even more motley looking couple of dozen patrons scattered between them, standing or sitting at wooden tables, talking, laughing and guzzling beer while they largely ignored the band. Practically everything was made of real wood, instead of plastics or ceramics. Tables, chairs, floor, bar; everything was wood. After standing there gawking for a few moments a mischievously grinning Weltman grasped the top of her head and gently tilted her gaze upward.

"By the gods!" she muttered as she stumbled back several steps. A meter above and in front of her face, talon-tipped, yellowish toes larger than a man's legs were open and poised to plunge down and grab her. A second equally motionless, massive, four-toed, sharp-taloned foot hung five meters from the first. They were part of a dead creature, she realized almost immediately, but her heart was still racing.

Her gaze moved further upward, to the immense, brownish, feathered body, and finally to the hellish, open beak and huge, cruel, hate-filled eyes that stared down at her. Golden feathers flared out from the neck and back of the head like a crown. From sharp tip of beak to end of tail feather the body had to be over ten meters long, and the wings, swept back and up as though the beast were plunging down towards the bar patrons, would have spanned well over twenty-five meters if spread fully. Hung from the ceiling by strong plexicord, the huge stuffed bird filled the entire middle of the big room. "Is it real?"

"Damn right it's real!" Weltman replied. "It ain't as impressive dead and stuffed, but believe you me, we can all be happy that damn thing is dead and stuffed. It killed and ate a dozen of the crew before we finally brought it down with a laser cannon."

"But it's incredible! Why haven't I seen it in news reports?"

"How many immigrants would we get if this thing was publicized? The Corporation has a complete news blackout on T-rex sized predator birds, among other things. Besides, we don't often see them around here anymore. This one probably originated in the mountains far west of here. There are some larger than human-sized rodents there that they seem to feed on, not to mention some monster bugs. There are even larger water birds, near the oceans and in areas of large rivers or lakes. That's one of the reasons we settled inland."

There were photos on a wall that showed the bird being stuffed and mounted which Kate reviewed with interest while Weltman got her a sandwich and a mug of beer from the bar.

"Impressed by the Roc of the Roc Bar?" he asked when he rejoined her.

"Very, especially considering that it is probably not even a particularly large specimen."

"How so?"

"First it's a male, and with predatory birds males are usually smaller, if you can call five Earth-side tons of bird small. Second, notice the white feathers at the base of the wings and tail? That means that this was a juvenile bird."

Weltman whistled as they sat down at an empty table. "No shit! Wait until I tell the Captain. But what you are telling me is based on knowledge of Earth birds, and this is Aves."

She shook her head. "Aves or not, this IS a golden eagle. I did a paper on them once. All damn day I've been seeing giant Earth birds and other life-forms, there can be no doubt about it. If birds were still widely populating Earth, everyone on this planet would easily recognize the creatures on Aves for what they are." She took off her uniform jacket and lay it atop her suitcase, so that she could better savor the relative coolness of the bar.

"Amen sister," said a gruff voice. "That's what I've been saying for years." A big imposing man in his late fifties, with head and face covered in long gray hair that seemed to sprout from everywhere except his piercing gray eyes and red nose and lips, was approaching them from the direction of the bar. He limped using his right leg and crutches; his left pant-leg ended about where his left knee should have been.

A handsomely feathered 'little' bird hopped along a few steps in back of him. The top of its head was black, as was the front of its neck. Its cheeks and the back of its neck were white, while most of the rest of it was Gray. Kate recognized it immediately as a black-capped chickadee. Though one of the smallest birds she had seen on Aves, up close and inside a building it still seemed to be enormous.

Weltman popped to his feet, snapping to attention. "Good day, Captain. This is Doctor Kate Deborg from the Space Directorate. Kate, this is Captain Jack Martin. Oh, and the bird is Cheepers.""

"At ease, John. Captain Jack or Captain or simply Jack, Kate," he said with a warm smile, as he reached out to shake firmly her small smooth hand in his huge rough one. Then he pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable at their table. "Well, scientist, what do you think of my Eagle?" He grinned and waved a big hand towards the huge hanging bird.

Weltman repeated what Kate had told him. The Captain didn't seem to be surprised at the assertion that it was a juvenile male. "We don't usually tell folks that this was really one of the smaller eagles that we encountered. They're scared enough of this one. But the important point is that you already think that these are really Earth birds, though giant ones?"

"It looks that way to me. North American birds, to be precise. I'll know for sure once I do a genetic analysis."

"The Corporation must have done that a hundred times over; they just won't tell anyone the results," said Weltman.

"Of course they would have examined genetic structure," agreed Kate. I'll be starting my own analysis today."

"Well young lady, you're a real fire brand," said Jack. "No wonder you have George all worked up."

"Governor George Keto?"

"Yep. He came in here about a half-hour back to warn me not to cooperate with you."

"He did?"

"Of course he did. That's what the Corporation told him to tell me."

"So will you cooperate with me?"

"Of course I will. I don't work for the damned Corporation anymore, and I sure as hell don't take orders from my old cook."

"Your cook?"

"George Keto was ship's cook on our discovery voyage," explained John.

Captain Jack shook his head and laughed. "That little weasel! He makes a damned good Corporation puppet."

"He seemed pleasant enough to me," remarked Kate.

The Captain shrugged. "He really isn't a bad sort, compared with actual Corporation management. George likes to think of himself as the people's man, though he equates Corporation interests totally with those of the people. But tell me Doctor, if your studies do show that these are Earth birds and plants and so-forth, what will it mean? How could something like that be explained?"

"I don't know Captain, but have you thought of the alternative?" Kate asked.

"Which is?"

"That the life here is completely alien, though it must have been made to outwardly appear to be copies of Earth life."

Jack nodded. "Sure I thought of it, but in either case I'd want to know how and who and why, but the Corporation doesn't want to know, or at least it doesn't want the public to ask."

"Why?"

"That's an easy one," said the Sheriff. "At the very least, there could be a public and scientific uproar that would upset agriculture and logging schedules. In their worst case scenario, the Corporation could totally lose control of the planet, especially because they've kept the whole question relatively quiet for so long. Everything being done here on Aves could be in jeopardy."

"That could mean a loss of trillions of credits," said Kate.

"Which is why the Corporation doesn't want even its own scientists doing much science," said Jack.

Kate shook her head. "But it's so obvious, even to a non-scientist! How can they ever expect to keep this a secret? How have they kept it a secret this long?"

Jack shrugged. "We're a long ways from Earth, Kate. Then there's the timing of it. Do the math."

"After this first big crop comes in, they won't have to keep it secret," explained Weltman. "There'll be so much pressure to settle Aves and get even more food products to Earth that nobody will care about how life on Aves got started or anything else."

"As to how they've kept secrets so far," said Jack, "it's a combination of three things, besides distance from Earth. First, there's damn few people on Aves with more than an elementary school education, and they screen and oversee the professionals very carefully. Second, they control all information coming in and out of Aves. You won't find any references on Earth birds here on Aves, except maybe in the science buildings, and most folks can't get to those. And third, hardly anyone from Earth or Mars has ever even seen a live Earth bird or forests. You're a very rare exception."

"Oh, and one more major factor, probably the biggest of all," added Weltman. "People want to succeed here on Aves, and so they want the Corporation to succeed. They've been told that if they let the cat out of the bag they'll lose their homes and jobs here. So they very much want to believe the standard Corporation line about parallel convergent evolution and so-forth. It's practically an article of faith here on Aves."

Jack laughed. "Kate, my old grand-daddy told me that when he was a kid there were lots of folks that didn't even believe that evolution happened on Earth. Unbelievable, but true. Even now, there are some religious groups that believe only what they want to, instead of believing what they see, what makes logical sense, and what science says."

"There was a Human Brethren member on my flight in. What's with that?"

"They make great farm laborers," explained Jack, with a shrug. "They're used to farming and living primitively. And they pay no attention at all to scientific or political questions. I can do the math. The Corporation loves them."

"So what do you gentleman want with this scientist? Do you want me to somehow get word out to the Space Directorate and the public about this stuff?"

"Absolutely not," said Weltman emphatically, with his Captain nodding in agreement. "Not yet, anyway. That's why I destroyed your electronic bugs without bothering to find out if they were Corporation or Directorate bugs. We want Aves to succeed too. That means that for now we want the Corporation to succeed; with no big scandals, at least until after the harvest. So as tempted as you might be to somehow communicate to the Directorate how hosed things are here on Aves, we'd prefer that you not do that. Besides, the Directorate leadership back on Earth is probably riddled with Corporation infiltrators working to squash any such stories. You'd just get yourself in trouble."

"Then why am I here?" Kate asked.

Weltman and his Captain both settled back in their chairs and chugged down some beer. "Bad shit's happening," declared the Sheriff, grimly. "The Birds are behaving well, these last two years, but maybe too damn well, and there are things happening with them that we don't understand. But by far our biggest problem is that people are disappearing mysteriously."

"Disappearing?"

"Disappearing without a trace. It started two Aves-years ago, in late summer. It was much worse last summer."

"And lots of birds have been disappearing too," said Captain Jack. "The blackbirds are building up to something, and I'm not sure that even the Corporation knows what it is."

"You talk as if they're intelligent, even sentient."

"I think they just might be," said Jack, "but just how sentient they are is one of the things we want you to find out."

Weltman finished his current mug and signaled the barkeeper for more beer. "As for me, I don't give a rat's ass about science. I want you to help me solve my missing people problem. I've pretty much eliminated humans as suspects, so I know that the birds must be involved somehow. They're the only likely possibility. That's where you come in, bird expert."

"Isn't the Corporation interested in missing people?"

"Not openly, and they want me out of it. They want me dealing only with the small stuff. Drunks, juvenile crime, drunk and disorderly loggers and farmers, unpaid rent: that sort of thing. Any serious crime can get to be political, and they want the Corporation cops to quietly deal with it. Because of restrictions, they're the only ones with access to decent crime-fighting technology. But this one has even them stumped."

"The missing people problem, you mean?"

"Right."

"Why do you think that birds are doing it?"

Captain Jack laughed. "You can see how big they are, and you haven't been here long, if you think these are dumb animals. First let me show you a couple of things." He turned to look at the Chickadee, which had been hanging back a few meters from the table, watching them closely. "Come here, Cheepers," he said.

The little bird hoped over to him. "Jack feed Cheepers?" it asked, in a clear sing-song voice.

"Good God, it talks!" said Kate, astonished.

The bird turned a bright eye towards Kate. "Kate friend? Kate feed Cheepers?" it asked her clearly.

"It knows my name!"

"It was listening to us talk," explained Captain Jack. "It figures a customer's name out, than asks them for food using their name. That's how it makes its living here in the bar." Kate had only a crust of bread left from her sandwich, but Jack reached into a bulging pants pocket, pulled out a huge roll and handed it to her. "Just hold it out towards him; he won't hurt you."

Kate held the roll out at beak level, which was about waist high. Even this relatively small bird was likely capable of biting her hand off. The bird hopped forward, snatched the roll from her gently, and then hopped away, disappearing through a back doorway.

"Damn," said Kate, disappointed to see it go. "What else can it say?"

"Many dozens of words. I had a little brown bird here up until a few weeks ago that I swear could converse like a human, using thousands of words. One more thing to show you." He stood up, then picked up his full beer mug before walking off. "You bring your brew too, Doc, you'll probably need it."

The Captain led them through a door behind the bar, a kitchen and a labyrinth of hallways before they entered a second huge barn-like room. Dozens of stuffed birds lined the walls. Kate's jaw dropped open and she gasped. Mounted here were great hawks, owls and dozens of smaller birds of all sorts. "I can truthfully tell newcomers that the Eagle out front is from hundreds of kilos west of here, and maybe they won't have nightmares. Besides, without using it as a draw I'd have probably gone out of business. But these bruisers were local to this area. Some still are."

"Holy smokes," Kate said, stepping forward to examine the massive stuffed owl that stood in the center of the room. It stood over seven meters tall on great taloned feet that looked as wicked as those of the eagle.

"This is my rogue's gallery, and that great horned owl is the one that got my leg," said the Captain, with a grim smile. "We had been here a year and I was being a bit careless, out where we were clearing land. That bastard massed about four metric tons in life, and was faster than you would believe. But at least hawks and owls generally act as individuals or in pairs. It's the ones that flock that worry me the most. Like that grackle." He pointed to the stuffed blackbird that stood over two meters tall and must have massed at least a couple of hundred kilograms in life. "You've probably seen these around town. They're smart and sneaky. Sometimes they seem cowardly maybe, but they're opportunists. Don't trust them, that's my best advice. Don't ever turn your back on a grackle.

"But in the early days the most deadly hunter of humans were these beauties." He pointed to the magnificent specimen that was mounted next to the grackle. "I still advise that they be shot on sight." Compared to the grackle this bird had a shorter, heavier bill and neck, but generally matched the big blackbird in size. However, this bird's blue, white, gray, and black feathers were incredibly beautiful.

Captain Martin shook his head, perhaps remembering parts of the past that he didn't want to. "These things are fast and smart and deadly. They attacked us in flocks. Well coordinated attacks. Yeah, in that first year the damn blue jays were the worst by far." The Captain glanced at John Weltman, and Kate followed his gaze. The Sheriff was staring at the stunning blue jay with undisguised loathing.

****

CHAPTER 5

RESEARCH BEGINS

After changing from her uniform into lighter weight, more comfortable clothing, Kate spent the rest of that first day studying birds, stuffed and alive, in and around the Roc Bar. For a while the Sheriff and his Captain accompanied her to acquaint her with the Bar and surrounding area and to answer questions, but COM messages from his office finally pulled John away, and Bar business odds and ends gradually reclaimed Captain Jack.

Kate hardly even noticed them go, she was so intrigued by Aves wildlife including its birds. The awesome, miraculous trees towered around her, more magnificent than anything that had ever lived on Earth. Time and again she walked up to a huge tree and simply ran her hands over the rough bark, marveling that such a huge living thing could exist. Outside the inn there were insects in abundance, though thankfully they kept themselves several meters away from her. Though revolting they were fascinating. They were so large that all their incredibly colorful body parts could be easily seen. She was so driven by wonder and discovery that she hardly even noticed the stifling heat and thick wet air anymore.

Cheepers the chickadee visited her several times, singing and asking her for food. She tried to actually have a conversation with it, but it was either unable or uninterested, and simply kept asking for food. She did get it to use several dozen words, enough to indicate at least a sub-human intelligence level. It was definitely smarter than an Earth dog, but the exact extent and nature of that intelligence could not readily be determined.

Whenever it became apparent that she wasn't going to feed it anymore, the bird vanished into the catacombs of the odd building. Curious, Kate followed it. She heard bird sounds behind a closed door and opened it, assuming that she'd found Cheepers.

The room obviously used to be a bedroom for humans, but now it was cluttered with a half-dozen bird nests complete with nesting females and juveniles. Both females and juveniles were gray/brown, striped with off-white, virtually identical to dozens of sparrow and finch species, but the raspberry coloring of the few adult males present was unmistakable, as was the metallic "tick, tack," of their calls of alarm. She had no doubt; these were purple finches. Not wanting to disturb them further, she closed the door quietly.

Continuing to explore, she found that one entire wing of the Roc Bar and Inn was overrun with birds. There were several bird-filled hotel rooms, each occupied by a distinct species of songbird. The rooms had obviously been altered by humans to better suit the feathered boarders. Windows had been removed and then partly boarded up again using stout timbers. This still allowed access by the smaller songbirds, but made entrance by larger birds such as grackles impossible. It was the same technique people used on Earth to build bird houses that were exclusively for small birds, she realized; small holes were made for small birds.

Human technology was being used to keep the feathered tenants comfortable. Most of the outside decks featured Jacuzzis with running water that served as birdbaths. Air was constantly circulated by fans that sucked in air from the outside and out through vents, a feature that helped keep tolerable temperatures in the rooms despite the summer heat. Water was kept running continuously into sinks, for drinking. What had originally been built to be a boarding house for humans had been fully adapted for bird use. The Captain had made his peace with the birds all right, and then some.

Though she didn't have access to the top-notch equipment of a full-scale lab, she retrieved her specialized COM unit from her utility belt and put it to work. It may have looked similar to the simple audio and video communications devices or hand-held computers of centuries earlier, but this 'scientific' model had evolved significantly. In addition to the communications, positioning by satellite, and general purpose computing capabilities provided by any ordinary COM unit, this special 'scientific' model featured a wide-band image scanner that served as telescope or microscope, and also provided relatively crude chemical and electrical analysis capabilities. It was a sort of 'Swiss-army knife' for scientists working in the field. With it she recorded images of live and mounted birds as well as bird song that she would analyze more fully later.

Fortunately she had down-loaded onto the unit considerable reference material on Earth birds before leaving for Aves. What she was able to confirm immediately was that except for their huge size, in terms of outward appearance these were indeed Earth birds or nearly perfect copies. All of the birds encountered closely matched corresponding North American bird species in terms of coloring and general proportions, including several species now extinct on Earth.

"This already proves the Earth connection, as far as I'm concerned," she announced to Captain Jack, when he brought her sandwiches and beer for dinner. "I'll be starting some basic genetic matching tests soon that will cinch it for sure, but the general anatomical features are an exact match with those of corresponding Earth birds, well within bounds statistically of individual variation and measurement error. With one obvious exception so far: disproportional brain case enlargement. These creatures may be even more intelligent than you know."

Jack nodded. "Bigger birds and even bigger bird brains. That's what we figured, when we studied bird remains that first year."

"Studied? Biological study was done on these birds that early?" she asked, glancing around the rogues gallery.

"Of course it was. Can you even begin to imagine the level of scientific interest? Study was intensive by Corporation scientists, until the Corporation pulled most of them off studying Aves native life and onto studying how to grow Earth crops here for feeding Earth. With most of the scientists doing other work, me and John and some of early settlers did most of the taxidermy work you see here, but we cubed lots of video and so forth. We display only a few of the less gory photos out by the bar. Too much blood and guts isn't good for the bar and restaurant business."

"Do you have any data on bird brains?"

"Sure. For example we have videos that include some volume and mass measurements on-cube here someplace." He limped into a side-room and reappeared a few minutes later, carrying a small bag containing hundreds of data cubes. "You can keep these; I made copies for you months ago, soon after John requested Directorate help. But don't let the Corporation get at them; they think that they confiscated all of this stuff years ago. They try to corner the market on all Aves scientific data, not that much of this stuff is particularly scientific." He handed her a data cube. "Try this one maybe, for a start."

Kate slid the small cube into her COM and holding the unit to her eyes, scanned through the contents file, which seemed to be a jumble of cryptic descriptors. 'Log Camp 7' said one, 'Joe's bad day' said another. "How is this data arranged?" she asked, perplexed.

"It isn't," confessed Jack. "We took turns recording everything we thought was interesting. It's much more the log of our expedition than a science data collection, but the Corporation science staff was supposed to put it in order and study it as part of their tasking. I have no idea what they've done with it, if anything. I figure at some point the Corporation will sell this stuff to entertainment and academic folks Earth-side for millions of credits."

The Captain went back to his restaurant business while Kate scanned cubes with her COM. Excited, she skimmed through a sample of the cubes in chronological order, watching a minute or so of sample files on each one.

They showed gigantic forests being explored and cleared, monstrous mountains being climbed, and even human social activities such as birthday parties being held, but there were also violent bird scenes in virtually every sequence. Early on, birds were hunted, killed, butchered and eaten.

But it wasn't a one-sided slaughter. Many birds attacked; swooping down at the explorers without warning to rip them with talons and beaks. Most attacks were by individual birds, often huge owls or hawks big enough to easily carry away their human prey. Well-armed humans standing guard usually cut them down before they could do any damage, providing plenty of action-packed footage. The Captain was right, this stuff had huge Earth-side box office potential, all right. Billions of credits worth, probably.

Hours after she started viewing, she found a file that showed dozens of jays simultaneously and methodically attacking a fully armed human hunting party, and only being driven off after tremendous carnage on both sides. The Captain returned as she watched the last of the file. "I can see why you fear the jays," Kate remarked, putting down the COM unit. "Have they given you trouble lately?"

The Captain shook his head. "We're not entirely sure. We haven't even seen any jays in nearly two years. But our people have been mysteriously disappearing, as they work in the fields on summer afternoons. My best guess is it's a rogue raptor or two, but it's being done so carefully that we really don't know. Could also be clever jays, or even those sneaky blackbirds. As John explained to you, that's why you're here, Kate. Help John figure it out the sooner the better, since soon we'll be soon reaching the peak of summer heat when most attacks have happened in the past."

"The birds I've seen here don't seem to fear humans. Aren't they hunted anymore?"

The Captain shook his head. "Been a total ban on hunting birds for a couple years now. We've found that it's better for us that we let them eat the damn bugs in peace. Pouching still happens occasionally, as fresh meat is so hard to come by here otherwise, other than fish, but for the most part we leave them be, and they leave us be. What do you think of the cubes so far?"

Kate shook her head. Her COM unit had a general purpose search engine application, as well as an automated data reorganization application, but she had quickly found that the volume and complexity of this information was far beyond their capabilities to assimilate. Her examination of this information would have to be essentially manual. "It could take me weeks to even figure out which cubes to look at, and more weeks of reviewing them after that to extract meaningful scientific data."

"So you've decided to work the case then?" asked John Weltman, who had walked up behind Kate and Captain Jack without them noticing. He was carrying a full pitcher of beer and three chilled mugs. He quickly filled the mugs and passed them around.

Kate shrugged. "I'm not a cop or a forensic scientist. Why didn't you ask for those instead of bird experts?"

"Because we already have cops and I already think that it's the birds that are behind this," stated John. "Plus, the Corporation has already applied forensic science without result."

"Couldn't it be a human serial killer?"

John shook his head. "I'm a good enough cop to have eliminated that as a possibility, and that leaves the birds as the most likely possibility. The bird situation is very complex. One thing you may have noticed is the bossy, nosy blackbirds. A couple of years back they seem to have taken over the bird world, at least around here."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"To the contrary, so far it seems to be a good thing," stated John. "The damned jays and raptors are gone and we've had peace."

"At a price," inserted the Captain. "We've noticed a big drop in most other types of birds. There used to be much more variety. Now it's mostly starlings, cow birds and the damn sneaky grackles. I call them junk birds, and I don't let them come around my bar." He took a big chug of beer. "Peace bringers or not, I never liked the grackle attitude. I can do the math. The grackles come, and the other birds suffer. Cocky bastards, every last one of them. I had a cook in my command with their attitude once, a real shit-head of a guy, and he ended up as a politician. I just don't trust them. I usually threaten to shoot the bastards when I see them, ban or no ban."

"Birds or politicians?" asked Kate, beginning to feel the effects of the beer.

The men laughed. "Let's just focus on the bird problem for right now," Jack replied.

Kate took another swig of brew. It was slightly cool and mild, just the way she liked it, not bitter – and it obviously had plenty of alcohol in it. It was a very suitable beverage for a frontier planet with sweltering summer days, Kate decided.

Some people got nasty when they got drunk; Kate got happy and silly. She was feeling much better about everything already. She was on Aves and having a hell of a good time studying giant birds. Now they wanted her solve murder mysteries? Sure, why the hell not? She fought to retain her professional composure. "And what am I supposed to do about it? The shift in bird populations you describe sounds a lot like ordinary bird territorial stuff. The land here has been cleared, giving certain species an edge that they're merely taking advantage of. Sounds only natural to me. OK, so you have missing people, but my first guess is, it's not the birds."

John shrugged. "Maybe. I can't put my finger on it, but there's stuff going on here with the birds that we don't understand. And we can't stand for missing people every summer, that's certain. In the past two summers we've had seventy-four missing persons, with most disappearing last summer. If this third summer is that bad, it will be a disaster, what with the first big crop due in soon and all."

"On Mars and Earth many thousands of people go missing every year, despite modern identification and surveillance," Kate pointed out. "People beat the system."

John shook his head. "Aves is different. Seventy-four people out of a few thousand is a lot of people to lose. Everyone has lost family or close friends. We're still sort of one big frontier community. Many of us know each other, at least the old-timers like Jack and me do. Besides, there's nowhere else to go on Aves except the wilderness."

"So then, maybe that's the answer," reasoned Kate. "Maybe these folks went native on you; they decided the hell with the Corporation and hard work farming and lumbering and set out for unsettled territory."

John shook his head, grim faced. "That happens some. But then we notice and they take supplies and equipment with them, and they tend to leave in groups, and hell, we even throw them going away parties with no hard feelings. You see, there isn't really any need to sneak away, if going native is what you want to do. The Corporation has even tried to sponsor private exploration and establishment of satellite communities, so most of the adventurous types can actually do their adventuring with full Corporation backing. Equipment, supplies and everything. And if you don't want their backing you can still do it on your own if you're crazy enough to, and there isn't even any law against it. But going out on your own or doing exploration isn't done very much. Too dangerous."

"Why? There's a whole damn planet to settle and explore. Think of the opportunities."

The Captain shook his head sadly. "Even most of our official expeditions don't return, and almost all of our maverick explorers are never heard from again."

"That's mostly birds for sure," said John. "Away from human settled areas there is no truce with the birds, we reckon. But that's not what worries us. We've had seventy-four folks disappear unexpectedly from fields well within settlement boundaries, leaving grieving loved ones and so forth. We have our squabbles, but nothing to make all those people leave our little community one or two at a time. We had one group of eight disappear in a field last year without a trace, leaving behind dozens of grieving close friends and family." John chugged some beer, then shut his eyes as though trying to shut away bad memories. "No, they're taken against their will, that's certain. It happens in the heat of mid to late summer, in weather just like we're starting to get now."

"What's the Corporation position on all this?" Kate asked.

"Ha!" laughed Captain Jack. "The usual. Denial that anything strange or terrible is happening. Assurances that everything is under control. The usual official bull-shit."

John nodded. "Spin control and cover-up. Lots of bull-shit. But under it they're as concerned as we are, or at least some of the Corporation cops are. I've got some close friends on the security team that are going nuts over this, and their bosses in the Corporation are royally pissed-off that they haven't solved this thing. In fact, I heard from a couple security types already today that heard about you arriving here, and they say they'll help you in any way they can. Unofficially of course."

"What about the Corporation science people? What about their boss?"

Captain Jack laughed. "Mark Helmins? He's the damn Corporation boss on Aves, more than he's a scientist. The fact that he has science credentials has helped shield the Corporation from the Directorate. He provides a persona of science, but his real job here in terms of science is to keep science from happening or at least the results from leaking out to Earth. The Corporation sure as hell knows more about Aves than they tell Earth or us, that's for sure. Helmins was so pissed off at John for requesting Directorate help, we were hopeful that he'd have a coronary."

"No damn luck there," said John, grinning. The alcohol was making him a little giddy also. He refilled Kate's mug, and the Captain's.

"You two guys are terrible," said Kate, giggling. She was feeling pretty zonked herself, and wondered clinically what the alcohol content of the beer that they were drinking was. Super high: over ten percent maybe?

The two men looked at each other and grinned. "She's found us out already," said the Captain.

John nodded. "It usually takes a couple of weeks for someone new to figure out what shit-heads we are Kate, you're a sharp one all-right. That's why we need you. The Captain has some empty rooms here, even air conditioned ones, without humans or even birds settled in them. For now you can stay right here at the Roc and study birds and data cubes and whatever. You can be your own boss, and we'll feed you and help you as much as we can. We can even get you some inside dope from the Corporation's disgruntled science staff."

"Free room and board with all the free beer you want," inserted Captain Jack, winking. "Good, home-made brew, not that imported swill with the fake damned alcohol substitute in it. Sound OK to you, kid?"

Kate shrugged. "So then, all you want me to do over the next couple of months is figure out all this stuff that you and hundred Corporation cops and scientists couldn't figure out over the last four Aves-years? Is that all?"

John chugged down the rest of his beer. "And maybe get drunk with us once in a while. Yep. That's about it in a nut-shell."

"OK, you've got yourself a scientist, gentlemen," Kate vowed, though she hoped she'd still approve of her decision when she was sober.

****

The next morning, Kate's COM alarm woke her before dawn. The surrounding bedrooms were quiet; she had apparently accomplished her objective of waking before the birds did. She took another pill to reduce the effects of hangover and got dressed. With her COM lighting the way she tiptoed downstairs to an already lit kitchen and was surprised to discover Captain Jack, cooking potato slices and pancakes on the big Bar grill. It smelled wonderful.

"Morning Kate," he said, beaming at her. "I figured that being a bird person you'd be looking for an early start. Me, I always got to get up early anyway. Old habit from the military."

"And also because of your feathered tenants?"

"Right. In another twenty minutes they'll be all carrying on like you wouldn't believe. Best not to fight it, I've found. Not too good for my human business though."

"What about John?"

"The man sleeps like a damn log. Dynamite couldn't get him up before mid-morning."

"Morning folks," said John, stepping in behind Kate with a cheerful smile on his face. Too drunk to walk home; John had slept in a room down the hall from Kate. "Ready to look at more birds?"

Kate almost didn't recognize him. He had obviously somehow showered and shaved since last night, and found clean clothing to wear.

Jack's jaw dropped open. "Well I'll be damned," he muttered, smiling and shaking his hairy head. "Guess I better flap us up some more jacks."

Fifteen minutes later they were all fed and sitting side-by side in the dark on lawn chairs on a balcony that faced the forest. Kate sat between the two men expectantly, listening to a symphony of night sounds. The sky was unusually clear and full of stars. Even with the thick atmosphere stars could be seen better here than from most places on Earth. The damp atmosphere of Aves was still, clean, and smelled of life that teamed all around them, croaking, screeching, slithering insects, frogs, lizards, and rodents, all hunted by nocturnal birds.

"Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will," sang a bird of obvious type from somewhere deep in the woods. In the clear area above the Roc Bar Kate saw shadows against the stars, and heard rapid chattering sounds and wing flapping, possibly swifts in search of flying insects. Through her infrared COM receptor they were slim-winged shadows too swift to be identified. There were plenty of flying insects, many of them gigantic. Some moths had wingspans greater than a meter.

"Whooooooo-uoo-uoo-uoo," cried an owl from nearby. Kate looked through her COM infra-red receptor and saw an owl with feather tufts that looked like ears, a hellish, bear-sized apparition that flew swiftly down from a tree perch to grab a sheep-sized rodent of some-sort from ground level and disappear with it back into the trees.

"Screech-owl captures mouse," whispered Captain Jack into Kate's COM unit.

"Damn," muttered Kate, awe struck. And that was only a small screech owl! She tried to imagine what it would be like to be hunted by one of the larger owls, or even a screech owl, for that matter. A tiny screech owl in the Princeton Aviary had sometimes attacked her when she entered its territory. Such aggressive behavior from oversized Aves owls would prove deadly to humans. John and Jack didn't seem to be overly concerned, though she had noticed that they were both wearing side arms and had shotguns at their feet. Bird watching on Aves wasn't always the safe, relaxing activity that it used to be on Earth.

"I didn't realize that there are giant mammals also! What about that mouse; are there many mammals?" she asked.

"Only small rodents of various types," said John. "Of course, when I say small, that's relative. None around here are larger than thirty or forty kilos and they aren't very smart or aggressive. Unless they break into a food storage bin they're hardly noticed."

"But they are basically Earth style mice and so-forth, only bigger?"

"Right."

"Does anything else eat them? What about snakes?" She envisioned black rat snakes twenty-five meters long.

"There are Earth-like frogs, lizards, and snakes, but they too are relatively small species, at least around here, and they eat mostly insects. But there are still vast unexplored regions of Aves where I suppose there could be almost anything. The birds and bugs made it too dangerous to explore much beyond the area that we've colonized. Besides, our main focus is local farming and logging."

The sky was graying slowly from black, and so was everything else. Trees that had been indistinct dark areas against the starry sky gained form. Bushes appeared out of the gloom. Nothing had color yet, everything was still dark gray. Human eyesight didn't register color at such low light levels.

Abruptly the trio heard rustling in the building behind them, and the sound of dozens of clawed feet scraping hard-wood floors and bodies bumping into walls, amid chirping and cackling.

Through the partly boarded-up window to their left a chickadee head poked out, followed by the entire bird. The cuddly looking bird sang a cheery "hello," to the humans. It was Cheepers. He looked about apprehensively, then uttered a loud squawk.

It was a cue for dozens of other chickadees to emerge from the inn. "Chickadee-dee-dee-dee, fee-hee, fee-hee, fe-hee-hee, they sang, with variations. Sparrows and other finches emerged from other windows, squawking and chirping their own songs, and began to spread out from the building and into trees and onto the forest floor, singing as they went. A pair of white-breasted nuthatches walked head-first down the trunk of a nearby tree, picking insects out of deep folds in the rough bark with their sharp, pointed beaks.

Kate noticed that all the birds seemed to be taking turns singing to some degree. Each seemed to sing for a few moments as the others ate and listened. They suddenly all paused for several seconds while a mystery bird sang from high in the trees. "Per-cha-cha-cha-cha, per-cha-cha-cha-cha; chep-chep-ree-chep, chep-chep-ree-chep; Pee-che-che-che-pee-che, Pee-che-che-che-pee-che," it sang, never repeating the same pair of phrases twice. Other birds joined in, though they were clearly outclassed. "Possible Brown Thresher," Kate reverently whispered into her COM. However, she had listened to Earth-type threshers, and their songs were nowhere near the complexity of what she was hearing here. Here multiple notes were sung at a time, instead of a single stream of notes, resulting in harmonic layers of sound that reminded Kate of several musical instruments playing at once.

Meanwhile the night-shift was going into a final frenzy. Birds flying too fast to be seen clearly in the dim light skimmed through the air, snatching up insects as they flew.

Gradually objects gained color, though due to the trees the suns still couldn't be seen, and everything was still well shaded by the forest. The forest gradually quieted down, though many birds still sang sporadically.

Suddenly a loud commotion could be heard, rapidly approaching them. Soon dozens of birds were squawking in alarm as they flew full tilt towards the Roc Bar from all directions. A dozen great grackles were pursuing them, yaw-yaw-yawing loudly. Small birds landed by the dozen and gathered on the decks of the Inn, jostling in panic to pop one-by-one through window openings and into the Roc.

The three humans found themselves standing on the center deck surrounded by terrified squawking finches, sparrows, and chickadees, and about to be dive-bombed by the blackbirds. John snatched up his shot-gun, while Jack grabbed a long pole that he swept the air with as he shouted and cursed. The big blackbirds pulled up and seemed to hover for a moment squawking, as if deciding what to do.

John helped them decide, or rather two quick, deafening shotgun blasts into the air did. The big birds diverted to surrounding trees and to the Roc rooftop, where they angrily squawked and strutted about while the rest of the songbirds escaped into the building.

After the songbirds were all safely inside the blackbirds abruptly flew away, except for a single grackle in a nearby tree that squawked angrily at the humans before leaving. Kate recorded every squawk with her COM unit.

"Those damn things get bolder every day," said Captain Jack. "I can do the math. One of these days they won't turn-tail when they run up against humans."

"At that point we'll be bird food," said John. "We better arm ourselves better."

"They were clearly trying to attack the other birds," said Kate. "Have they always done this?"

"Heck no," Jack replied. "That's one of the side issues I hoped you could shed some light on. There used to be fewer birds here when I moved in about three years ago, but a much greater variety. The jays were the worst, but we gradually wiped them out, us and the grackles. I've seen grackles gang up on jays and tear them apart. About two years ago, other species began to thin out, and I noticed grackles chasing them away. About that time, all the birds seemed to stop attacking humans altogether, except for a few big raptors, and we humans killed or drove them away. The grackles always just sort of watched us, same as they do now, so it got so that gradually we didn't worry about them much ourselves. There's a big bunch of grackles nesting in my woods now, always raising hell with the other birds.

"So I started letting the smaller birds stay inside the Roc for their protection. The grackles don't like that, for sure. The place has literally gone to the birds since then. Actually, I thought they'd stink up the place, but it hasn't turned out to be so bad. For one thing, they defecate outside, far away from the building, except for the baby birds, and the adults change their bedding frequently. I've got some recordings of that."

"Incredible," said Kate. "What about nasty insects? Earth birds are full of parasites; lice, fleas, ticks; you name it. There are mite species that specialize in eating specific bird parts such as feathers."

The Captain shook his head. "Not a problem. When they aren't eating or sleeping, they're preening themselves and each other. Dead ones we've stuffed or fixed to eat don't usually have a bug on them. The nastiest of parasites that you mentioned mostly don't seem to exist here on Aves, thank goodness. No fleas, lice, mites or ticks. No mosquitoes or blood-sucking flies either. Other bugs try to fill those niches, but aren't near as good at it. Off the top of your head Kate, do you have any ideas on the grackle behavior we just saw?"

Kate considered the situation. "Their behavior doesn't totally match up with that of Earth birds, but there seem to be similarities. My guess is that grackle population is increasing because of the open farmlands of food that we humans are establishing. But they still need trees to rest and nest in. Your grove of trees here is prime roosting grounds for them, surrounded as it is by open farmland. Driving off other birds is probably a territorial thing. They regard the others as competition for food and roosting spots and so-forth. You and your hotel might be disturbing that balance, you know."

"That's about what I figured," said the Captain. "But I like the little guys, and never could feel close to grackles. I don't trust the damned, shifty-eyed bastards. That little brown bird that used to live here always said he was very afraid of the grackles. I can do the math. I suspect the grackles got little Brownie at last. Damn shame. I really liked that little bird."

"At least the grackles keep the jays away," said John. "Most folks figure that as long as they do that, they don't care what they do to other birds. In fact, they seem to keep all the other birds in line. Along with owls that patrol at night I suspect they also help control rodents, lizards, frogs and so-forth. They're opportunists, and capable of anything, but official policy says that grackles are our friends."

"Well, I don't like the damn things, regardless," declared Captain Jack, "and I don't regard them to be friends of mine."

"I wonder just how the hell they regard us," said John, as he finished reloading his shotgun. He held it ready to shoot as he scanned the area for blackbirds. "Until I know the answer to that one I'm going to carry this old scattergun with me."

****

All that second day, Kate explored the wooded area around the bar. The richness of the wildlife was astonishing. Attached to a giant tree not far from the bar she encountered a ten-meter-across web. A ladder-like pattern of extra-heavyweight webbing ran vertically through the center of the web. Testing it, she found that the plastic-like strands were strong enough to hold twenty kilograms of mass, at least.

Suddenly a strikingly colored black and yellow monster spider scrambled towards her from the top of the web, stopped abruptly only a meter from her, and then retreated another meter further away. Its legs spanned over a meter and it must have massed at least ten kilograms.

"Argiope spider, correct?" asked John Weltman, who had approached while she was focused on the spider.

Kate slowly backed away from the creature, despite an almost overwhelming impulse to run, and mumbled praise for whoever had invented the chemicals in her body that had stopped this monster in its tracks. "You know your spiders. Poisonous too, of course?"

"Certainly, Kate. Any spider and most everything else that crawls, to some degree."

"Including ants."

"Sure."

"Why couldn't it be ants that account for your missing people? I imagine that it would take a few dozen ants the size of Earth rats only a short time to kill and dismember a human."

Weltman shook his head. "Unfortunately, exactly that sort of thing did happen with several people before we perfected the repellent, so I can tell you from first-hand experience that what you describe takes a couple hours, at least, and all we old-timers know what to look for when it happens, unfortunately. Besides, the people that disappeared used repellent all the time."

"Insects have a way of adapting to poisons and repellents."

"Over time, yes. The Corporation has a team of folks that are constantly testing for that. Repellent-proof insects would have been noticed. Besides, for ants the size we have, ant trails aren't invisible. There would be chemical evidence also. Formic acid and such, left on soil and bones. No Kate, it doesn't seem to be insects, though I suppose that we can't dismiss that possibility totally."

"Oh!" he exclaimed suddenly, his eyes widening. "I don't suppose that you noticed that big lizard behind you."

Kate turned to look but saw nothing.

"On the tree trunk," Weltman added, pointing.

"Oh my God!" Kate exclaimed, when she finally distinguished motionless, brown bodied, blue tailed lizard from tree trunk. It had to be at least two meters long and thirty kilograms in mass. It was only ten meters from her but at least it was facing up the tree rather than towards her.

"Relax, it's only a juvenile skink," John said calmly. "They can give a really nasty bite but our repellents work with them, frogs and pretty much everything else except mammals and birds."

Kate moved further away from the big lizard anyway. As a fifty kilogram, human, she wasn't anxious to tangle with a thirty kilogram lizard. "Which again suggests birds."

"Right. They are number one on my suspect list, by far. Birds could strike fast and carry the victims out of sight without a trace. One or more big raptors could do it. Either that or the jays have gotten even trickier."

"Any other evidence pointing to raptors?"

"Disappearances always happen in or near areas cleared for farming," explained John. "Just the sort of area where a hawk or eagle might stalk their prey."

"And be seen."

"That's right. That's where that theory falls apart. We have automated radar detection for raptors, even two years after any known bird attack. The radar automatically tracks and targets large high flying birds. But that's only one possibility. Maybe it's a low-flying hawk or owl. That's actually a good guess. An owl could fly in fast from the trees, strike, and be gone quickly. Of course, this one attacks in the daytime. I don't know, maybe it has eye problems and has to hunt in the daytime. Maybe it has simply become fond of the taste of humans, like one of those Earth tigers in India in the old days."

"Owls aren't always nocturnal. But whatever the species, no doubt you've looked for such an animal."

"Unsuccessfully, so far," John admitted. "But these are smart animals, not dumb Earth birds. Individual rogue tigers used to kill dozens of folks on Earth and get away with it. These creatures are at least as smart as tigers, and more powerful and swift than tigers as well. But it wouldn't have to even be a raptor or group of raptors. Maybe the jays are back. Jays look like they also might be big enough to carry off a human for a short distance, and we already know that they attack in groups. How else could eight humans be so quickly overcome that they didn't even report being attacked? Jays act in groups, so they have to be as high on the suspect list as owls. Higher, since my single rogue raptor theory doesn't explain the eight victims at once scenario we had late last summer, and we've never seen raptors flock and fight in a coordinated manner. A group of jays fits the bill perfectly."

"So might the grackles. Grackles flock."

"True. I never trusted the blackbirds. It could be them as well, picking us off a little at a time. There are too damn many suspects, when it comes to birds. I was hoping for a whole team of bird experts to help me sort things out."

"And you got only me. I can understand your disappointment."

Weltman smiled. "Oh, I don't know. You haven't disappointed me yet."

****

CHAPTER 6

FLIGHT

At dawn, Blue noted that the forest songbirds were still frightened, silent, and in hiding. Without bird song to call forth the light, the great forest was eerily quiet, except for the shuffle and buzz of unhindered crawlers.

Stealthily, the fugitive blue jays and the brown creeper ate crawlers and seeds, and did a quick preening. When it was barely bright enough for them to clearly see the tree branches that crisscrossed potential flight paths, they prepared to fly north. Blue wrapped a vine snugly around Brownie's middle so that he could carry him upright and comfortably instead of upside down. This suited the little bird so well that he 'peeped' loudly in appreciation, drawing a silencing warning hiss from Blue.

Finally, they were underway. Bob flew in the lead acting as guide, followed by Blue and Brownie. Nod flew rear guard. They flew almost at ground level under even the small trees, hoping to avoid the prying eyes of crows roosting in the upper forest canopy.

Going was difficult from a flying standpoint and also risky from a discovery standpoint, for they had to focus primarily on dodging branches in order to make reasonable progress through the foliage, rather than on locating their enemies. Therefore for the most part they couldn't tell exactly what was ahead until they were already flying past it. They surprised many hushed, nervous, low-perching songbirds that were in hiding. It seemed likely that eventually they would similarly surprise some low searching blackbirds, but the jays could think of no better strategy to travel unnoticed.

After working their way tediously through the trees for several hours, with the sounds of searching blackbirds constantly above them, their luck finally ran out. They abruptly burst into a small clearing and found themselves flying just over the heads of dozens of crows walking in a wing-to-wing line on the ground.

The startled crows cawed in surprise, and then the chase was on. Dodging through the trees, the nimbler jays had no problem evading the clumsy blackbirds, but all the searchers in area treetops had now been alerted, and gathered above them in even greater numbers.

Most disturbing, in addition to hearing the caw-caws of the crows, they heard the chuck-chucks and cack-cacks of gathering grackles. Escape from the nimble grackles would be much more difficult. Fortunately, these blackbirds were more prone to song than the more taciturn crows, though their course voices were scarcely musical. Their nearly constant singing was extremely useful to the fleeing jays, who dodged any that approached them on their level before they even came into sight.

The grackles were flying complex search patterns however, and at one point were converging on the jays at all levels of the forest, with no escape route evident. "Cack-cack, cack-cack," sang Blue, in uncanny imitation of the grackles, startling even his companions. Unlike most bird messages, this one did not designate individual or flock identity, as grackles had such a loosely knit society that such information typically had no meaning. Through sub-frequencies Blue sang in perfect grackle fashion simply what he had heard the grackles saying, that the fugitives were not to be seen where he flew. As Blue hoped, the approaching grackles didn't notice the addition to their group, but actually turned to avoid the jays, thinking that the area where they heard Blue's message coming from was already covered. It had been a close call.

After another hour of intense flying the jays at last heard no more crows or grackles. They continued on at low level for yet another hour however, before finally resting for a short time. Blue was tiring from carrying the creeper. For the next leg Bob carried the little brown bird while Nod led, and at Blues' direction they flew more easily through the upper canopy, though they still avoided flight in totally open areas where they could be seen from afar.

At last they found themselves flying in woods where the daily activities of the local birds were normal and blackbirds were more scarce. They sang greetings to the local jays they encountered and warned them that flocks of crows and grackles were at large, but only stopped to rest, feed for brief periods, and exchange Brownie. Because he was much stronger, Blue took turns carrying the creeper that were twice as long as those of Bob and Nod.

That evening the exhausted group found a thick patch of berry bushes were they fed modestly and slept soundly until morning, when they were pleased to hear songbirds singing in the dawn normally. They heard no crows or grackles at all, but of course those birds were normally widely dispersed in the deep forest. There still could be lesser numbers of searching blackbirds in the area. Overall though, these were relatively cheerful surroundings.

Blue did not feel cheered. The joyful songbird singing reminded him again of Song Flame, and of Song Flame's death. While fleeing on the previous day he had been too busy to think of it very much. It was a wilt-feathered Blue that approached the brown creeper with the vine, and stated his intent to again carry him.

This time the little bird protested. "Brownie fly, Brownie fly," he sang. "Blue tired." True, the plucky little bird looked much better today, especially after preening, but he was still wobbly on his feet. He would be just as wobbly on the wing, Blue judged.

Blue didn't know exactly what the tiny bird had gone through with Song Flame, but it must have been horrific. Now Song Flame was dead, thought Blue, gloomily. Song Flame, his best friend and mentor, would never sing again.

"Blue not eat," observed the stubborn little bird. "Blue not preen. Blue have loss shock, like Brownie."

"It's true, you did not eat much at all yesterday, Blue, and nothing this morning," agreed Nod, who looked over his big companion carefully. "Nor did you preen today at all. I had not thought on it, but I think the creeper may be right. You have shock of loss."

"I didn't eat or preen?" sang Blue, in surprise. Was that true? Shock? Normally a bird ate and preened automatically. With loss of a mate, parent, sibling, or close flock-friend, a bird sometimes fell into an unhealthy stupor that could last for weeks, occasionally resulting in death. Death was sometimes from direct starvation, but more often from predators that sensed weakness and carelessness.

"Aye flock leader," agreed Bob. "You think now of losing your friend, is this not true?"

Blue shook his head. "Yes. But is it loss shock? I don't know." He had suffered shock when he was a youngster, from loss of his mother to a falcon. He hadn't eaten in days before his also grieving father noticed and intervened. The intervention strategy was an unusual one; Strike True introduced Blue to Song Flame. Blue was so intrigued by the old cardinal's odd song that he was soon again eating and preening without even noticing his own recovery. Song Flame had saved his life.

"You wouldn't know," said Nod. "Shock brings a haze that covers clear thought. We two were in its grip ourselves not long ago, after losing our unborn chicks, so we understand it all too well. Scar persuaded us to do our duty to flock and to fight our foes; that is what saved us from its grasp. We need you now to do the same, flock leader Blue Dawn."

"I do my duty," protested Blue. Many seasons ago after recovering from his earlier bout of shock loss, he had pledged to himself never again to give in to fear or despair. He was stronger than that. He was a jay and son to Strike True, the greatest jay flock leader of the North Forest.

"Of course. But do you remember eating or preening this morning?"

"No. But we're all very tired."

"We're all tired, but you are more than tired. The rest of us ate and preened on waking, even the creeper. We did not note it at the time, but it is true, you have barely eaten or preened since we joined you."

Blue craned his neck and looked himself over. They were right, he looked a mess, though appearance was the least of it. Preening was necessary for good flight and protection from the elements. "I will preen now." He began to run his beak through his feathers.

"And eat," said Bob.

"I don't feel like eating."

"We said the same thing, when we lost our young ones, and were in shock," sang Nod. "Flock leader, we all have need of your great strength and wisdom. You must eat."

"Then I will eat," agreed Blue at last. After preening, the sad jay forced himself to eat berries and crawlers. He felt more energized after eating, as he again approached the creeper with the vine. "Today you ride again, small wise one. Tomorrow, perhaps you will fly with your own wings. Today we will not fly as hard as yesterday. We can't afford to wear ourselves out. We have perhaps four more days of flying to reach the Council."

The other jays nodded in agreement. Contrary to their frequent boastful claims, jays weren't high souring, swift, long distance flyers. They were average flyers at best and trained vigorously to enhance flight agility, speed, and endurance. When migrating they generally flew less than fifty kilometers a day, resting and eating frequently as they went. Also, this wasn't yet migration season, so they hadn't fattened themselves up in preparation, or worked themselves up for it psychologically. In this regard Blue had a slight advantage over Bob and Nod, since for several weeks he had been flying through the forest looking for Song Flame, and except for his state of shock, was well conditioned physically and mentally for travel.

Blue sometimes covered significant distances by flying at night as high above the trees as he could reach, above the night-hunting owls. But neither he nor his flock-mates could carry Brownie high enough to completely avoid raptor or blackbird notice, and four birds flying at more moderate altitudes at night would be far too conspicuous. They had to continue traveling in the daytime at modest altitudes.

Blue was glad to be underway again, to push swiftly through the thick damp air, keeping busy such that again he had little time to dwell upon the death of his friend. Today they flew at treetop level, and even though they were flying at a much more leisurely pace and took longer rests, they still covered as much distance as they had the day before, due to less tree dodging and back-tracking to avoid clearings.

At dusk however, as they fed near the base of an old oak tree, they were dismayed to see approaching high overhead a huge flock consisting of thousands of dark colored birds of two distinct sizes, flying swiftly north. They were flying at perhaps a thousand meters above tree level, too high in the waning light to immediately make out what type of bird they were.

As they watched, several dozen of the birds trickled away from the main flock, dropping down to roost in nearby forest trees, cawing and cackling. There could be no doubt; they were both crows and grackles.

Hawks could also be seen soaring both above and below the main flock, but the jays couldn't tell if they intended to attack the blackbird entourage, or simply following it. "They are doing both," concluded Blue, after the main flock was almost out of sight. "They hunt down stragglers, but otherwise do not attack the flock." Indeed, as he sang this they could see stragglers being knocked out of the sky by the swifter raptors, but otherwise there were no attacks.

"Yes," agreed Nod. "They could also very easily strike at the main flock from above. As they do not do so, perhaps the raptors have some agreement with the blackbirds."

"Or perhaps the raptors have an agreement among themselves as to strategy," reasoned Blue. "Their aim may be to merely stress the flock by following it, causing more stragglers that are then easily taken."

Either explanation was not a comforting one. Raptors were flocking. Powerful prey birds of many sizes and colors could be seen, many dozens of them. The flocking of predator birds to attack others was nearly as disturbing as the other things that the jays were questing to the Council to report. The Balance hinged on the fact that the swift, powerful predator birds tended to act as individuals, pairs, or at most very small groups, and could therefore be countered through the coordinated efforts of smaller birds, led by the jays.

"This raptor behavior must also be reported to Council, if we reach Council," remarked Bob.

"WHEN we reach Council," countered Blue. "Rest now; tomorrow we fly low again, and to the east."

"But the Council is north," said Nod in surprise.

"Yes, but so also is the main blackbird flock," explained Blue. "We will try to go around it. It will require that we fly further, but we will make better time and with greater safety."

The next morning Blue again consciously fed and preened, while carefully being watched by his companions as though he were a hatchling. Then they flew very low, slow, and cautiously east, concerned at first more with stealth than with speed. Now that they were out of the area that Bob and Nod were familiar with, it was much more difficult to determine a route devoid of clearings that featured a lower canopy to provide cover.

Though twice they enlisted the help of local jays to guide them, progress was slow on this third day. Scattered crows and grackles forced them to be constantly alert. Often they encountered clearings or areas with only an upper canopy where they had to back-track and try different routes. By mid-afternoon they were again weary, and there still seemed to be no end to the watching blackbirds.

"Cack-cack," cried a grackle in sudden alarm as it flew around a bush and almost collided with Blue. Blue sang nothing in return, but swept around quickly to attack the grackle before it could fully react. One quick blow to its head from Blue and the stunned grackle fell limp to the forest floor.

"Come," urged Blue, and they all continued on as swiftly as possible, as more crows and grackles converged noisily behind them. The startling incident may have actually helped them, for after a short time all the blackbirds seemed to be far behind them, still focusing on the area immediately surrounding the brief encounter. Blue decided to take advantage of the situation by gaining altitude when he saw and heard no more enemies, and they flew full-tilt at treetop level for the remainder of the afternoon. The creeper was carried much of the time, for even though he seemed to be fully recovered he tired more quickly than the jays.

So went the long day, the group flying east to evade the path that the blackbirds had seemed to take, and not north directly towards the Council. For several days after that, they would then move north.

When there was opportunity, Blue sang with Brownie, learning all that the small bird knew of human song and ways. It was odd song and information to know, Blue reflected, but not disturbing. Humans could evidently be friends to birds.

By dusk of the fourth day of their quest they were no more than half way to the Council, and were more exhausted than ever. In the near darkness they encountered a large body of water that discouraged further progress, and at last settled down for the night under a large bush at water's edge. They had not encountered the blackbirds again, but the forest was too quiet to suit Blue. Even here, far from the troubled Far South Forest, things were not right.

****

CHAPTER 7

RAPTORS

At dawn a still weary Blue stepped out from under the bush to look about and decide what their exact route. Standing quietly a few meters from him and staring at him intently was the largest bird of prey that he had ever seen. Its head was white while most of the rest of it was dark brown. A bald eagle. He had seen them several times in his life at safe distances, but never this close. Being this close to any raptor invited swift death. The eagle faced him silently, fixing him with huge, pitiless, forward peering eyes. Blue yawed loudly in surprise, and quickly ducked back into the bush.

"Come out and sing with me, small blue one," sang the eagle, in course, plain language. "I seek song from you, not your flesh."

Blue stepped out from bush cautiously, after telling the others to stay hidden. He had confidence that even as weary as he was, he could dodge an eagle attack. "Fly free, great one," he said, in what he hoped was a friendly greeting.

"Yes, little blue soldier of the forest, that we raptors do, at least for today. It is tomorrow and the following tomorrows that worry us. I am Great Beak, flock leader of the East for all bald eagles. Tell me, are you the one that the blackbirds sing of? Are you the one that flung nasty words at Black Heart, and killed his black solders by the flock?"

"I am Blue Dawn Jay, a defender of the Law and Balance."

The big Eagle nodded his white-feathered head. "That is what I thought when I saw you and your companions fly here at dusk. You had the look of weary birds being chased. It is lucky for you that you were not being hunted as prey by me or mine, as it was easy for them to see and follow your flight these last few days, Blue Dawn Jay, and sing of you to me. Your name I recall from events long before these. Birds sing. You are the young jay warrior turned student. What news of your great teacher Song Flame?"

Blue choked back a cry of pain before replying. "Song Flame is dead, by blackbird beak and claw."

The huge bird ruffled his feathers, then lifted his head to the skies and shrieked loud and mournfully. For a time the huge bird stood silently, before at last returning his attentions to the startled jay. "In many past seasons that small red one cheered us with his songs," the eagle sang quietly. "He helped keep the Great Balance through wit and wisdom as well as melody. We eagles do not sing well, but that does not mean that we do not appreciate song. That one's song will be greatly missed by raptors, and even more, his great wisdom will be missed by all birds."

"You knew him well then," remarked Blue, astonished by this entire conversation.

"He was not of one flock, as you, his apprentice, would well know. He indeed sang a song of all birds and flocks, as he was fond of singing."

"True, but I didn't know that he had even eagle friends."

"You knew him as well as any bird, but closely apprenticed with him for less than four cycles. Alas, there is much then that you and others will never know of him. Still, it is well that you joined him when you did, so that at least some of his lore may better be passed on to future flocks, such that they may follow his flight."

"How do you know so much about me?"

"Birds sing. In spring I heard that you were on a quest to find Song Flame. As for your heroics against the blackbirds, I ate a crow yesterday that sang a bit about you, Blue Death, before I tore her head off." The eagle sang a harsh, squealing cackle, apparently laughter. "We also have a mutual acquaintance on the Talon Council."

"The Talon Council exists? I thought that it dissolved long ago after the Law and Balance were established."

"That is the naive songbird view, small one, one that is cultivated by us because it makes you songbirds feel more secure and therefore become easier prey. I can see that Song Flame did not have time to complete your education, Blue. Of course the Talon Council still exists! The Law and Balance put into place primarily by the songbird Great Council wouldn't endure were it not for the continued work of both the Great Council of songbirds and the Talon Council of raptors. There are many bird councils, but the Great Council and the Talon Council are chief among them.

"Law and the Balance are not static, they evolve and respond to new pressures and new ideas, and with each new generation need to be re-sung and renewed. There will always be the need for councils among all types of birds. You songbirds call us predators lawless ones, but that is simplification for the newly hatched. True, we have a much freer flying code of conduct than do you, little blue soldier, but we do have one. And we do have collective interests. Our collective interests and the following of our code are looked after by the Talon Council."

"You said we have a mutual acquaintance? Is it Red Claw?"

"Of course. I salute your clever deduction, small one. What better links could exist between our two councils than a great horned owl that nests near the Great Council grounds, and a little red songbird eccentric enough to regularly visit him and live, though still remain respected enough among songbirds to perch in their Great Council. That was Song Flame; for many seasons he helped keep a balance between song birds and raptors. Now at this critical time when we all need him most, for his wisdom and for providing the link between us, Song Flame is no more."

"Critical time?"

The big bird nodded and hissed. "A time of great change, nestling, the greatest in a hundred-hundred lifetimes, for the Old Ones have returned."

"Song Flame sang of this to me, before he died. You have seen them also?"

"From afar I have seen them all too well: strange, ugly, flat-faced, featherless crawlers. They carry death in their hands for hunting birds, death that can strike at great distances from themselves. They came four cycles ago. They destroy the forests of the Far South Forest, making great open areas wherein they grow great quantities of their strange, tiny seeds. They come to our World from far away in great hollow flying mountains that spew thunderous fire. They flew for a time in our skies, carried within giant hollow, noisy, lifeless nests that they commanded. We raptors stopped that affront, but in the lands that they control they still move ponderously on the ground within other lifeless traveling nests. At first they killed many birds, but now they flock with the blackbirds."

Blue shook his head in bewilderment. "How are such things possible?"

The eagle shrugged. "They are very clever, and in some ways more deadly than any bird, but they are not Gods. My sister and brother hunting raptors have killed and fed on them. I am told that they taste much like the long-tailed hairy crawlers of the mountains. Sadly it is reported that they do not taste like fish." The eagle cackled/laughed. As every bird knew, though bald eagles ate anything they wanted to, they ate mostly fish.

"You sing that they flock with the blackbirds? How do you know this?"

"From afar I have seen the grackle fly into their lands. The Old Ones do not hunt the grackle, though they hunt the raptors. I conclude then through straight-forward logic that there is some pact between Old Ones and blackbirds."

"What sort of pact?"

The eagle shrugged. "The black ones keep their own council; but they grow in numbers beyond counting and flock together. They raise far more young than ever before. They break the Balance and Law by hunting other birds."

"They openly hunt live birds?"

"They do. Some smaller cousin birds such as starlings and cow-birds they tolerate, to a degree, when they can be bent to their purposes. But they kill those they cannot control, including especially your kind, blue one."

Blue was stunned. "Like raptors they prey even on jays?"

The Eagle hissed. "No, not like raptors. They do it not to feed themselves or their young; they kill far more than they need to fill their many fat bellies. They kill to remove enemies and to claim territory. Now they claim as theirs what had once been the Far South Forest, but we think they plan to breed even further and claim all the World as their territory."

Blue shook his head. Some competition within and between species that ate the same things was common, but not to the extent suggested by the eagle. "But why? The Balance is then broken. How can they hope to live without keeping the Great Balance?"

"They would build a new great balance of their own making."

Blue nodded. "One they call the New Order, I suspect. But exactly what would this new balance be?"

"That I do not know for certain, though it seems that it would benefit Old Ones and blackbirds, and not most other birds. As I have said, they keep their own council. I too have heard them sing of a New Order, but do not know exactly what it means. Blackbirds deal with others only as it suits them, and now they deal with the Old Ones as it suits them. I suspect that their New Order will result in a new great balance that is balanced far more in their own favor."

"I must ask another question of you, great one. If you know all this, why have you not told Red Claw and the Songbird Council long before now?"

"An excellent question, young Blue. What I have told you has only recently been assembled from bits and pieces of knowledge from many raptors. News sometimes travels only very slowly among raptors, for we hold Freedom of Flight and song between mates above all. Some key raptors chose early on to hold most such knowledge to themselves. Raptors can be as selfish, prideful, and headstrong as any other birds. More so, perhaps. The Old Ones arrived four cycles ago, but the full Talon Council learned all this mere days ago."

Blue shook his head. "I must fly to the Great Council and sing of all this. I do not know what can be done, but I must try."

The great eagle nodded. "I had hoped that was your plan, Blue Dawn Jay. I wish you to also take to them a message from the Talon Council. Tell them that with Song Flame gone, you, Blue Dawn, will now be our new link to the Great Council. Tell them also that we of bloody beak and claw now gather into flocks. Now we but menace the Black Flock at its edges, but before the fall migration time we plan to strike at its center. We wish to defeat them. But tell your Council that we raptors cannot do this without their help, for the Black Flock has grown too great, and we are too few. The songbirds need also to fight the Black Flock to keep the Great Balance. Tell them that Great Beak, the leader of the Talon Council, tells them these things."

"The jays and perhaps the others will fight the blackbirds with you," Blue noted. "The Black Flock will fall."

"Perhaps. But there is still the other great problem, songbird. What of the Old Ones?"

"Birds have dealt with the Old Ones before."

"Yes, small one, but the blackbirds and crawlers fed then for weeks on bird dead, and there were many bad years that followed, before the Great Balance was established. We hunters have much respect for the Great Balance, songbird. If we kill too much prey, we starve in the next cycle. Such wisdom is in our old songs. If we fight the Old Ones, and surely we must, to preserve the Balance, will we not with our own blood also destroy that balance?"

"What then is the answer?"

"We do not know. It seems to be a riddle without answer, a paradox without solution. You must take Song Flame's place at your Great Council and let us know what the songbirds think we should do together about the Old Ones."

Blue shook his head. "I can try, but I am not of the Council."

"Your father is."

Blue started, shocked. Bird lineage was a fairly private thing, particularly outside the flock. "Is there anything you do not know about me?"

The great eagle laughed its harsh laughter. "Much. But I know enough, son of Strike True. Now, how did you plan to get to Song Wood?"

Blue shook his head. "Song Wood is north and west, but the Black Flock now lies between us and the Council. They will greatly slow us, as we must fly cautiously under cover of bush and tree."

"Also you have two blue companions, and carry a small brown bird. They also slow you."

"The brown creeper from the Far South Forest was fleeing the Black Flock with Song Flame. He speaks the language of the Old Ones, and has seen the grackles sing with them."

"He is a highly valuable witness then, though a tiny one. It is good. Your Great Council will ask for one that has seen and heard things themselves, rather than merely heard a song that has been passed through many voices. They may need to send many birds to their deaths, and that will be a very hard thing for them. Still, carrying or flying with the little brown one makes your quest all the harder."

"And yet it must be done."

"Perhaps there is another way. Yesterday when our Talon Council met together near here a member said that if you were to be found, she should be told so that she can help you in your quest to reach the Council. She flies near here. I will have her come to you now, if you agree to consider her help."

Getting help from a predator went against all of Blue's instincts and experience. But he trusted Song Flame totally, and now he felt that he must in turn trust Great Beak. Besides, he knew that he and the others had been extremely lucky so far, and he feared that their luck would not last when they again flew through woods where the Black Flock searched for them. "I would sing with her of this, to learn if she can indeed help."

"It is well. She soars nearby, small one. Wait here for my return."

The Eagle spread her vast wings and gracefully pulled her enormous body skyward. The huge wings seemed to flap almost in slow motion, but the big bird rose rapidly and so high that she was out of sight in an amazingly short time. While she was gone Blue talked to his little flock, who had overheard the conversation he had with the eagle.

"I do not trust eagles," stated Bob bluntly.

"I hear your song," said Blue, "but more important than how we feel about raptors is our great need to swiftly reach the Council. I will sing with this second raptor who claims that she would help us and then decide what to do."

After only a few minutes two huge raptors dropped from the sky towards them at fantastic speed on swept-back wings; Great Beak and a mostly gold-brown eagle that was equally huge. Blue had never seen one before, but he knew immediately what it was. This was a golden eagle of the Western Mountains. This bird ate anything and everything it could catch; no raptor was more powerful. The two great birds extended their wings, rapidly slowing their decent, and landed gracefully in front of Blue, towering over him.

"I am Yellow Claw, small blue one," announced the golden eagle using loud, raspy Plain Song. "I am Flock Leader of all golden eagles of the West. I would aid you in your quest." The name fit; this eagle's claws were pale yellow; except for her golden tipped neck feathers and enormous cold, staring, yellow eyes, the huge claws were perhaps her most distinctive feature, as well as her most deadly. Her voice was even more raspy than that of the bald eagle; Blue recalled hearing that eagles never truly sang. How could a bird not sing? He never understood raptors, and he feared them the more for it. It took steely resolve simply to stand in their terrible presence.

"Though we would appreciate aid of course, I do not see how you can help. As mighty as you are, great one, you are but one bird, and the Black Flock are many. If they find us, not all the eagles in the World would stop them."

"Then they must not find you," replied the eagle, enigmatically.

"We have been lucky, in that regard, but it cannot last. We have at least four more days of flying ahead of us. Six days is more likely, since we will have to fly very low and cautiously through the trees."

"I can have you at Song Wood by nightfall today."

Blue's head cocked sideways. "You mean then to carry us?"

"Of course. I propose to carry two of you; you and the small brown bird." She glanced towards Browne, and the tiny bird cheeped weakly in fear as it hid behind Nod, who was hiding behind Blue.

"In your great claws?" Blue asked.

The huge bird nodded with its terrible beak. "Of course."

Blue looked in dismay at the huge yellow talons. These were the Eagles' most powerful weapons; those claws could easily crush a jay in a moment or rip to bits any bird. For a songbird to willingly place themselves within those claws was insane. But the swift, high flying eagle could probably do it; she could fly them so swift and high above the Black Flock that they would never even be noticed. He and Browne could actually be in Song Wood by evening.

"If you and the creeper do this," said Nod, "Bob and I could still fly north also, and meet you later at the Great Council."

"That is a good plan," agreed Blue. "By splitting up we are assured that the Council will be reached by at least two of us."

Blue turned to look up into the eyes of the Eagle. "We songbirds have good reason to fear you hunters, but it is sung that you are birds that live true to your song. Eagle, do we have your pledge that we will be delivered to Song Wood unharmed?"

With its great cruel beak the golden eagle seemed to smile. "You have my pledge that I will deliver you and your tiny friend to Song Wood unharmed, small one. I pledge that I will not harm you."

"Then we accept your offer," said Blue. Blue thanked Great Beak for her help, and then persuaded Brownie to stand with him before Yellow Claw. "Fly free," he told Nod and Bob, as the huge golden eagle spread her wings, lifted off the ground, and moved towards them. A moment later he and Brownie were snatched firmly but gently by the great yellow claws, and lifted up and away.

Blue was astonished by the power of the giant eagle. In a short time they were far higher than he had ever been before, and flying faster than he could imagine. He was even more astonished to still be alive while being carried by a great raptor, but as the minutes passed, his fear gradually abated.

On the ground Bob and Nod also departed, while with her huge eyes Great Beak watched the Golden Eagle disappear into the clouds far above. She squawked a sharp command and two much smaller raptors swept gracefully out of nearby bushes and perched near her. "You heard?" she asked them.

The two nodded. "We still do not fully trust her, Great One. She has not been the same since her youngest died at the hands of the Old Ones. She long concealed the secret of the coming of the Old Ones from the rest of the Raptor Council for her own reasons. In addition, the fact that she already knew details about the fleeing songbirds is very odd. Yet we can't dispute your logic; if you had openly denied her in this it might have broken alliances with the great Golden Ones."

"Besides," said the second bird, "as she has sung, she is the logical one to take them. None can fly so swift and high as her, at least not for such great distances while carrying the songbirds. Except for us of course."

"And her hatred of the Old Ones is undeniable," said the first.

"And despite her oath to deliver them safely you are still concerned?" asked Great Beak.

"Yes," they replied in unison.

The great eagle nodded. "I agree. We need to do something. Far too much is at stake."

****

CHAPTER 8

STORIES AT THE ROC

Over the next few days Kate settled into a routine that included meeting Sheriff John and Captain Jack each evening at the Roc bar. John, Jack and their friends seemed to take great pleasure in telling their ever-curious newcomer of their experiences on Aves, which were often bizarre. Besides providing an opportunity to relax and socialize, Kate learned a great deal about the wonder planet.

Having learned a painful lesson following the first night, Kate drank much less beer, but on the pretext that hard weeks of harvesting would soon begin, most of her companions were determined to get lousy drunk and succeeded masterfully. This probably loosened their tongues, but blurred the shared information considerably. Half the time Kate couldn't tell if they were telling her truth, or simply tall tales. After a few beers, they couldn't very well tell either. In any case, their stories tended to confirm that Aves was indeed a very amazing and dangerous place.

"Other worlds have been discovered that resemble Earth; what makes Aves so special?" a new farmer asked John, between sips of beer.

"The climate and the ecology," John explained to the newcomer. "Aves isn't much smaller than Earth, so Earth humans can easily adapt to its gravity. It tilts less on its axis than Earth and the atmosphere is thicker, so the winters are relatively mild and the temperature varies less seasonally. There are several moons, but they are small compared to the Earth moon, and tidal effects are slight, yet they provide dim light nightly. Oceans are smaller and land area is roughly twice that of Earth, and most of the land is forested and capable of supporting Earth crops when cleared. Of course some of the native life is nasty."

"I seen spiders as big as a man, and as strong as a whole work crew," claimed Luke, a scarred veteran of several seasons on Aves. "Sticky webs as strong as steel wire, too tough to cut quick enough even with a hunting knife. Get stuck on one of them, and the best thing is to very quietly burn your way free. You can't struggle or you bring on the beast. If you don't have a double-dose of repellent in you, you've had it. One snip of its jaws and your head is off. Or worse, it'll paralyze you with a bite, wrap you up alive and suck you dry over a couple of days as you die slow and your repellent fades away. Them big spiders even eat some of the birds, and birds is way stronger than humans."

Kate smiled and shook her head in disbelief. "I've seen some big spiders here, massing several kilos, but nothing nearly as big as a man."

A man who until now had sat each night quietly listening and drinking his beer stood on alcohol weakened legs and approached Kate. "It is truth you hear young lady. In the tropics one specimen of Goliath spider massed a hundred and fifty kilos. Some Wolf spiders are even larger, but they don't build webs, they just leave a trail of webbing where they walk."

"Right," inserted Luke. "That's the good news: no hanging web to get tangled in. The bad news is this: their sticky webs can be lying unnoticed anywhere on the ground, and stepping on it is like stepping onto fly-paper."

"True," agreed the other man. "Giant tropical spiders are one of the reasons we settled a bit further north. Sometimes they jump a man and kill him before they notice the anti-bug chemicals. Tropical beetles can be just as massive and when in flight can knock down a small plane."

"Goliath beetles, for example?" Kate asked.

The man smiled. "Cute as a button and you know your Earth insects too! Yes, Goliath beetles, giant water bugs, rhinoceros beetles, and others. I'm Doctor Peter Grimes, by the way, and insects are my specialty."

Peter looked to be about forty years old and was of middle height and slim build, and sported a will trimmed mustache to match his short brown hair. In his neat Corporation researcher's uniform he looked very much like a scientist. "Very glad to meet you, Peter. I'm Kate."

"Of course. The government biologist I'm not supposed to talk to. Well, screw that, you're too cute not to talk to. Most everything I could say will be released to the public soon after the harvest anyway. Ask me anything you want, and I'll answer it, if I'm drunk enough but not too drunk." Smiling, he chugged down more beer.

"OK, Peter. Do each of the bugs here match an Earth species?"

"More or less."

"But that's simply not possible. Insect physiology wouldn't support such gigantism. Circulatory and respiratory systems, for example, are much too inefficient to work for such large creatures. Even the ants here are impossibly large."

"That was my first reaction also," agreed Peter. "Upon study however, subtitle design changes are evident. Lots of them. Circulation, for example. Though they still don't have hearts like vertebrates do, they have some big improvements."

"Improvements in the dorsal vessel and the pulsatile organs?"

"Say, you do know your insects!" He smiled, took another big swig of beer, and belched loudly.

"I remember a few basic things. Significant improvements, you say?"

"Significant and necessary," added Peter.

"That's your professional opinion, Doctor?"

"That's it. You are right. Insects that size couldn't live without the extensive modifications."

"Or walk or fly I'd wager," inserted John Weltman, who had just returned to the table with a re-filled pitcher of frothy brew. "From an engineering standpoint giant flying bugs and birds are impossible, by Earth animal standards, even with reduced gravity and thicker air. They shouldn't be able to fly, any more than we would be able to fly if we attached wings to our arms. Not even our legs would be strong enough. It's that thing that Leonardo de Vinci or Archimedes or some other ancient architect worked out more than thousand years ago about the strength of structures increasing as the square of the cross section of the structure but mass and weight increasing as the cube of its dimensions. That sets natural upper limits on the maximum sizes that things can reach, alive or dead."

"Quite so," agreed Peter. "But bird and insect muscles, bones and ligaments have been redesigned too, for much greater strength per cross section than in their Earth counter-parts. All life on Aves is like that, including wood and other living materials. Their building material is stronger by a factor of at least five compared to their Earth counter-parts. Energy collection through photosynthesis, energy chemical storage, and consumption rate is also greatly enhanced, supporting greater plant biomass energy density then on Earth, and big, strong, energetic animal life-forms that eat those plants. Anyway, the net result of this underlying science is that we can have giant trees and flying ten-ton eagles that are roughly ten times as strong as a five-ton Earth T-rex must have been."

"Swell. So a twenty-kilo bug is at least as strong as a hundred kilo man?" Kate reasoned.

"Damn straight, and then some," agreed Luke. "In the old days we had our hands full with those beasties. Strong as sons-a-bitches, and full of claws and jaws and stingers. Then Peter here came up with the stink pills, saving our butts from bugs, and the Brethren worked things out with the damn birds."

"You came up with the bug repellent, Peter?" exclaimed Kate. "In that case, I want to buy you a drink!"

Peter smiled. "Of course you do. That's why I hang around here, sitting on a super strong wood bar-stool so I can drink a super massive amount of beer. Grateful folks buy me drinks all damn night. I haven't had to buy my own drinks in years."

"You say the Brethren worked out things with the birds?" Kate asked, to return the conversation to things of even greater bird relevance.

"That's the rumor," said John.

"More than a rumor," added Luke. "I seen-um together once, one of the Brethren and one of them big black devil birds, when they thought they was alone. It sure seemed to me that they was talking to each other, all right."

"What did they say?" asked John, with great interest. He even set aside his beer. "Could you make out their words?"

The scruffy woodsman shook his shaggy head. "Not a one; I wasn't close enough. I high-tailed it out of there. I don't traffic with the Brethren or them devil birds."

Weltman sighed in exasperation. "There has to be communication between the Corporation and those birds somehow. Our relationship with the birds is too damn perfect to explain any other way. Of course, the Corporation denies it. If the birds were acknowledged to be sentient, all hell could break loose Earth-side. The whole relationship between Earth and Aves would have to be reconsidered."

"Interesting," said Kate. "But getting back to physiology, redesign seems to have been carried a step further with the birds. Would you all agree?"

"In what way, cutie?" asked Grimes.

"We've been talking about things necessary for survival for giant-sized transported Earth life, like new bug circulatory systems and much stronger bones and muscles. But what about bird intelligence? They don't need to be as smart as they are just to survive, but they are highly intelligent. How do you explain that one, Mr. Corporation scientist?"

Peter Grimes shrugged. "Humans ancestors became more intelligent than they needed to be. It worked out so well that the trend continued."

"True. But that happened through evolution over many millions of years, to various families of species and to differing degrees. Our ape cousins are damn near human in intelligence and genes, and they're several millions of years separated from the human linage. But super-high intelligence is a pretty rare occurrence, or at least it has been on Earth. Given how similar Aves life is to Earth life, the life here had to have been introduced from Earth relatively recently, from a geological and evolutionary standpoint. Well within a few million Earth years, I'd wager; perhaps only a few thousand years. That's a blink of the eye, in terms of evolution. So how and why did all these DIFFERENT bird species get to be intelligent in so short a time? Evolution simply doesn't work that way, or that quick. Not that fast and not in the same specific direction for hundreds of species at once. That's far too much of a coincidence to swallow."

Luke laughed heartily, and finally stopped drinking beer long enough to rejoin the conversation. "True enough, science lady, but there's one another thing that's even more peculiar than all them smart birds, aside from the fact they're from Earth, and a hell of a lot more fucking obvious. Fundamental, you science types might say."

"And that would be?" Peter asked.

"BIG fucking birds! Big bugs, big trees, big every damn thing. Everything bigger by the exact same amount, no exceptions. Nothing is only twice as big, or five times as big. Every damn thing, plant and animal, is a dozen times bigger than they was on Earth. Every single damn thing! Now ain't that just a bit peculiar?"

"You're right," agreed Kate. "Peculiar as hell. But I'll give you another fundamental one, Mr. woodsman. Much of the microscopic life is also from Earth.

"Damn, you're good," said Peter. "Yes, that's why all this transplanted big Earth stuff can survive here. A whole damn ecosystem was brought to Aves from Earth and redesigned to work together, including microscopic life, which stayed the same size to be able to function properly and make soil and so-forth. It's not a dozen times bigger because that wouldn't have worked; viruses and bacteria and so forth can only thrive near the minimum allowable size limits for life. The pills you take since you got here aren't to kill off Aves microbes, they add Earth microbes back into your system after you've been cleared of them by the Directorate before you arrived on Aves. There are some native Aves microbes, but so far they've all been harmless to us."

"My big point is," said Kate, "Earth life wasn't simply dropped off here and left to evolve, it couldn't have been. Everything macroscopic to begin with wouldn't have gotten bigger, and gotten bigger by the same amount, or stronger or smarter by the same amount, and so forth. Evolution doesn't work that way. So life here was all purposely redesigned to be bigger, stronger, and smarter too, in the case of the birds. Hell, it was all ENGINEERED to be that way, engineered species by species in the same timeframe, for thousands of individual species."

"Genetic fucking engineering, right?" asked Luke, looking back and forth at the two scientists.

"Actually that and much more," said Kate. "Genes more or less program what gets built from basic building blocks, but you could screw with Earth genes from here to Sunday and not get most of this stuff. You need some whole new building blocks, basic ones having to do with the fundamental chemical and physical structure of different cells and organs. You'd have to radically mess with the mitosis processes and building process that the genes work with, in addition to just the genes that map out how they're applied. You need whole new proteins and other components at the molecular level that can produce stronger muscles and bones. You need chemical structures that more efficiently gather, store, and convert energy. Someone tinkered with the whole damn engine of creation, so to speak, for thousands of different individual species simultaneously. Do you agree Doctor Grimes?"

"I'd be a lousy scientist if I didn't. What do you say Denise?" Grimes had spoken to one of the people that had been quietly listening to the conversation, a dire, warn looking middle aged woman.

"I generally don't say very much Pete, even when I'm drinking, but what the hell!" She reached far without getting up to shake Kate's hand. "I'm Denise Roberts, lead genetic designer for the Corporation on Aves, Kate. Glad to meet you." She took a bug swig of beer. "You folks are pretty much covering the same ground as I did, a couple years back. I was supposed to tweak the genetics of the Earth crops that we were introducing here. It was expected to be a huge job. Everything we brought with us had evolved and been genetically modified to grow well on Earth, of course, so we didn't expect it to thrive here on Aves. Corn, wheat, and so forth. We should have had a possibly impossible task to adopt Earth crop plants to Aves soil. But we didn't have to change a damn thing. The soil was already composed of Earth viruses, and bacteria, and fungus, and associated chemicals, minerals, and so forth. Everything we introduce from Earth grows just fine here.

"I was damn near out of a job. My new job is to figure out how we might modify our Earth crop plants to acquire Aves size and robustness, and to introduce Aves plants to Earth."

"Holy crap," said Luke.

"Not so hard to do as you might think," Roberts said. "Mostly we've just got a lot of legally required protective protocols to work out. Red tape science really, since the stuff growing here is already safe for introduction on Earth. I spend most of my time anticipating what the objections of the anti-genetic modification lobby on Earth are likely to be, and coming up with counter-arguments. We already went through some anti-alien phobia Earth-side, when we shipped our first sample wood and food samples to Earth last year. But we got through that mess."

Peter nodded. "There were somewhat legitimate concerns about genetic modification a few centuries ago, when it was new. But of course there is nothing inherently evil or dangerous about genetic modification. It took a while to establish standard safety protocols to follow that ensure that there are no nasty side effects, but such concerns have all been worked out many times over. What we found here on Aves is evidence of modification of life forms far beyond anything ever attempted on Earth. But fortunately whoever modified stuff here on Aves did an incredible job. Their modifications were incredibly extensive but done in a way that preserved compatibility and stability across their ecosystem and even maintained compatibility with ours. The bottom line is that Earth crops and humans can live safely here and Aves life could live safely on Earth, if it weren't for the pollution and so-forth there."

Kate was stunned as the implications of what they were talking about sank into her alcohol slowed brain. "Energy, that's the key. Photosynthesis that's more efficient. Food that pound for pound packs several times the energy. Muscles that are stronger. Maybe brain capability is even enhanced here on Aves! The potential for utilization of all this stuff on Earth is beyond huge! Aves is going to transform Earth more than Earth transforms Aves!"

Roberts shook her head in agreement. "You begin to understand the potential. Before too long instead of growing Earth crops here on Aves we'll be growing Aves crops both here and on Earth, and we'll be making genetic enhancements of other species back on Earth. But it won't be easy. Years, decades or maybe even centuries of research are needed. We're only beginning to understand what has been done to the life that we find here. The science behind all this is mind-boggling."

"Can you hear what you're saying?" Kate asked. "Don't you see what this all means? It can only mean aliens, with smart as hell damned alien science far in advance of ours. Though it looks like the aliens cleared out ages ago, they probably left artifacts. So why haven't both the Directorate and the Corporation flooded this planet with scientists to track down alien technology?"

"Well, that's us, I guess," admitted Grimes. "The life we find here is the alien technology that we study. If we had found any direct physical evidence like space ships or alien dwellings or skeletons or whatever, there'd be tons more scientists, military, and so forth here on Aves, but we haven't found a damn thing, and we tend to keep our suspicions of aliens under wraps."

"That and the whole concept that life here has been essentially re-created," concluded Kate. "You've kept that secret."

"Right," agreed Grimes. "And the Brethren agree with you, on the creation part."

"They what?"

"They understand the basic situation too, from a general science perspective, even though the hypocrites don't approve of science. They think that Aves is some kind of Eden. To them Aves is a religious miracle; this planet and the life on it had to be designed and built by God for humans, they figure. That's why so many of them come to Aves. They figure God did all this, and did it for them. It's proof of God and of God giving humans a second chance at Eden. That's why they're so committed to the Aves project."

"Eden? What shit!" said Luke. "Would we have the bugs we have if this was bloody Eden? Why, in the tropics, besides giant spiders, there are centipedes, millipedes, and walking sticks with bodies near three meters long! We don't find them half that big this far north, but they're plenty big enough to get together and take out humans, especially them poisonous ones like wasps, ants, spiders, and such, not to mention the pain in the ass flies and beetles. Forget to take Peter's stink pills and you're a goner. Especially in the wilds."

"Aye," agreed another man. "If you ask me, it's the bugs and not the birds you should be studying, to solve our disappearing people mystery. Maybe some bug out there don't care no more if we take our stink pills."

"We'd have seen signs if it was bugs," disagreed Luke.

"We'd have seen signs if it was birds," argued the other man.

"Well anyway," said Luke, "we at least all agree that we don't know shit, and our beer's getting warm from all the hot air we been making here."

"I'll drink to that," said his companion, and everyone chugged down more brew.

****

CHAPTER 9

TALONS AND BEAKS

Blue Dawn Jay knew that eagles and many other great birds were strong flyers, but he never imagined how incredibly high they flew. They were high above many clouds now, where the air was thin and it was incredibly cold, even with the heat of both suns. Yellow Claw's wings flapped deliberately and with immense power, and although they seemed to be flying slowly based on glimpses of the ground far below, Blue knew that they were actually making rapid progress north.

"Crows don't fly even half this high, do they?" Blue asked. "Why are we so high?"

"To fly faster."

"How can you tell where we are?"  
"Eagle eyes."

"Of course, and judging by the suns, even I can see that we are flying in the right direction."

"Of course. Silence now. I fly, I do not sing."

With that curt rebuff, Blue kept his silence, though he had many other questions. The creeper kept silent also, though Blue saw him peek out from within the eagle's giant talons occasionally. The bird was so small that it huddled within the great bird's encircling clawed toes as if it were a snug nest. Blue's body was grasped snugly, though not so snugly that he had any difficulty breathing.

Time went by slowly, as the eagle flew hour after hour without stop. For long periods it soared on air currents without flapping its great wings, while at other times its wings pumped up and down steadily. Blue would ordinarily have napped during mid-day, but under the circumstances he found that he could not. At every moment he was frightfully aware that an incredibly powerful creature that sometimes ate other birds was holding him.

He knew that if this experience went against his own instincts, it had to also go doubly hard against the instincts of the great raptor. If the eagle had a change of heart, the creature could easily crush him in a moment, eat him in mid-air, and then fly home to the Western Mountains, leaving only blue jay feathers to scatter in the wind. Nobody would ever learn his true fate. He looked down, and could make out hills and rivers, but not well enough to identify any specific locations. The eagle could see what passed below much clearer, of course, with its huge eyes.

Twice Blue spied two other birds flying behind them at the same altitude as they were, but they were too far away for him to identify their species before they disappeared again into the clouds.

Once Blue saw a giant silvery bird flying high above them. Its wings were stiff and a thin cloud trailed behind it, as if it was breathing the cloud out of its strange body as it flew. "It is the Old Ones," rasped the eagle, hatefully, breaking her silence. "They only dare fly rarely, within their flying nests far above our reach." She dodged a bit lower into the clouds then, and when they emerged minutes later the silver bird was gone. They flew on then as if nothing had happened.

Morning led to afternoon, midafternoon, and finally late afternoon, and still the eagle flew on. There were storm clouds ahead, great black mountains of clouds that towered before and above them. The great bird stopped flapping its mighty wings, and started to drift slowly downward. "Kreeeeeeeee," it screamed loudly, above the sound of distant thunder.

"Are we going to rest-out the storm?" asked Blue.

"No, fool bird, we have arrived at Song Wood."

Sure enough, as they dropped lower, Blue at last began to recognize landmarks, though he had never before seen them from so high. The pattern of streams, trees, and hills was unmistakable. "That large oak on the hill to the right is Council Tree," he said, though it was clear that the big bird was already acquainted with Song Wood.

"Kreeeeeeeeeeeeee," was the big bird's only answer.

"Queeedle, queeedle," cried Blue happily, hoping to alert and reassure his father's jay flock through sub-frequencies that this was not an attack by the great eagle.

As they neared the Wood the forest was oddly silent; perhaps despite his cries of greeting, apprehension about the eagle remained with the songbirds. To Blue's relief, at least there was no blue jay attack. Strangely, there were no birds at all in sight, and none could even be heard singing of the coming storm, which had already brought on a gathering darkness and gusts of moist air from the west. At last the great bird landed in the small clearing at the foot of the tree, but instead of releasing Blue and Brownie, the eagle landed on the soft ground with its knuckles, and held his passengers more firmly than ever.

Blue couldn't see far or wide, but what he could see puzzled him all the more. He saw no other birds at all!

"I bring Blue Dawn Jay and the brown creeper," announced the eagle, in a loud harsh voice that cut through the violent rustling of summer leaves.

"Caw, caw, caw; cack, cack, cack," sang a hundred blackbirds in reply, as they hopped out from behind trees and bushes and stepped towards the trio.

"Fly! It's a trap," sang Blue, but the eagle stood motionless. Blue struggled with all his strength to free himself, but Yellow Claw didn't even seem to notice.

"Indeed it is a trap, blue fool," said the particularly large crow that faced them.

"I have kept my part of our bargain, Black Heart, I expect you to keep yours," rasped Yellow Claw.

"I will keep mine, golden one; within two weeks time, you will have the one you seek."

The eagle stooped and twisted her head to look Blue in the eye. "And I have also kept my word with you, blue one, for you and the little brown bird have arrived safe at Song Wood, unharmed by me." The giant talons loosened to release Blue and Brownie, but a dozen strong blackbird beaks seized each of them before they could move a feather. Meanwhile the eagle spread its great wings and slowly lifted her great body up and away. "See that you keep your word, Black Heart," she rasped, "or no number of your puny black minions will keep my talons from crushing your little black body."

A thousand crows and grackles called out defiantly in response, as the eagle rapidly rose and flew away. Then their attention quickly returned to Blue.

Black Heart lowered his head until his long, thick, black beak was in the face of the helpless jay. "So, here is the famous blackbird killer that some now call the Blue Death. The boastful prince of the forest has come to sing before the Great Council. It is hard to believe that a bird so puny could cause so much trouble. I have had to revise my plans because of you and your little creeper friend, but the result will still be the same."

"The result will still be your death, black maggot," said Blue, fighting the pain from many cruel beaks that held him fast despite his struggles, and worrying about exactly what had become of the Council.

Black Heart cackled with laughter. "You jays are all the same stubborn idiots, and that will be the final undoing of you all. When the strange crawlers came four cycles ago, and killed songbirds, you jays foolishly attacked them, and we watched you die. The strangers killed many of the jays in the South Forest for us. We killed the rest. Most important, we cut off any escape or massagers sent to get help. Foolish jays they were, to turn their backs on us! The Council was stubborn too, so it had to be destroyed, and earlier than originally planned, because of you. We would have rather waited until the human crops were riper."

Lightning streaked across the sky, as if giving support to Black Heart's terrible words, and all the blackbirds trembled, except for Black Heart himself. The crow leader and his cruel words seemed to be part of the storm, a living extension of the dark, violent clouds.

"The Council was destroyed early because of you and your meddling cardinal friend. For all his over-rated wisdom your teacher was an ignorant fool, locked into foolish notions like Balance and Law. The greater truth is that only power counts in the end. We blackbirds always adapt to change and seek power. We have vision. We take advantage of whatever becomes available." His harsh voice rose with the sound of rising wind. "We are the rightful masters of the World."

"You are traitors to all birds," sang Blue.

The Black One cackled again. "We are traitors to none, stupid one, as we have only ever owed alliance to ourselves. You with your silly blue jay Pact are too stupid to understand such things. It is well that you jays left our flock long ago, for your thinking is muddled with songbird notions. No, we are not traitors to ourselves, and it is you that threaten our rightful New Order. That pitiful threat will die now with you, little blue cousin." He drew himself up to his full height, poised to strike down at the helpless jay with a mighty killing blow. "Sing your last, blue fool."

"WEEchew, WEEchew," came a cry descending swiftly from overhead. No sound was more feared, and the crows and grackles acted instinctively, scattering, squawking and flapping their wings in alarm, forgetting Blue and Brownie. Blue felt the sudden release and then a rush of wind and the shock of sharp talons biting into his left leg and back and jerking him roughly up into the air and away.

Blue had gone from certain death to death itself, for he knew from the cry of the attacker that he was being carried off as prey of a peregrine falcon, the most dangerous of all flying predators. Usually found in the lake country to the east and south, where they preyed on big water birds, Blue had never seen or heard one, but he had heard songs of them since he was a chick. This falcon was an incomparable flyer, with a body a bit larger than that of Black Heart but with enormous wings and powerful talons. Even though burdened awkwardly by Blue, they were soon so far away from the pursuing blackbirds that their angry cries couldn't even be heard.

Once struck by the powerful talons Blue had gone into a state of shock, but he presently began to struggle in earnest when he realized that he was still alive and that the falcon had not seriously injured him. Gusts of storm-wrought wind also helped Blue to twist in the grasp of the falcon.

"Hold still prey bird, or I'll lose my grip, and your blackbird friends will kill you for sure," said the falcon. "Heavy as a fat dove you are, and probably as tasty."

"Who kills me now?" asked Blue.

"Friends of Great Beak," said another falcon voice from behind and below. "Hold still, fool prey bird, and live. You are being rescued from the Black Flock."

Blue twisted his head and saw that a second cruel-eyed falcon followed closely, and carried the battered form of the tiny brown creeper in its talons. At that moment the little bird opened his eyes and cheeped weakly. The plucky little bird lived also, but for how long? A sudden wind-blown gust of rain struck, and Blue's falcon cried out and partly folded back its wings. The falcon dropped rapidly, soon more than matching the speed of falling raindrops. Falcons attacked in this fashion, dropping down from above at fantastic speeds to maul prey with sharp talons and knock flying prey out of the sky. This seemed to be an attempt at a slower, more controlled dissent, but it was still terrifying to Blue, to drop so quickly in the near-darkness of a great storm towards the forest below. All his instincts told him to spread wings and slow down.

"I'll try not to break your neck, prey bird," said the falcon carrying Blue, and then it laughed, as the trees rushed up to meet them. The raptor abruptly spread its wings fully and set its talons more cruelly than ever and pulled up on Blue mightily. As Blue lost consciousness the last thing that he heard was thunder and the terrifying scream of falcons.

****

CHAPTER 10

RAPTOR'S DEN

Blue woke to pain throughout his body and to unfamiliar song from birds very close by. It was similar to the red tailed hawk language, though richer in sub-frequencies, so Blue was able to understand most of it almost immediately.

"The landing was perfection itself, you must admit," sang the female falcon. "A consummate entrance it was, despite darkness of a storm and gale-force winds, and there is not a broken feather on either of us. Now that's flying!"

"And the prey bird still lives," sang the male falcon. "A most unusual and delicate task, unprecedented in deed or song."

"Quite so my love, quite so," replied the female. "Especially given the darkness. Winds we can master, blindness we cannot. We don't have the night-faring equipment of our esteemed host."

"All right then," said a third, gruff, far deeper voice in plain language from even closer. "Not bad flying for falcons, given the storm. IF the jay will live."

This harsh voice was one that Blue had heard before. He opened his eyes. Poised above him in the dim light was a terrifying apparition for any songbird to behold. It was a huge hunting bird, with mottled brown and gray feathers with white patches that fluffed out to make it appear titanic in size. Its forward-looking eyes were enormous and wide-spaced.

Blue recognized this particular raptor. He recognized also where he was; he was in the hollowed out trunk of the great tree that served as the nesting place of this, the greatest killer of Song Wood. Crawlers of the night, and many an unwary bird had ended up here as food for this terrible creature. "Red Claw," Blue sang, in a weak voice that didn't sound like his own.

"So then, you do live, Blue Dawn Jay," replied the Great Horned Owl. She lifted one sharp taloned foot and patted the top of Blue's head gently. Her claws were yellow, as they were not stained red with blood at the moment.

"Of course the jay lives," said the male falcon. "We were instructed to keep it alive. A bit of a trick, that was, not killing prey. Odd feel to it, you know. Unnatural. Most unnatural. And not at all good for a bird's reputation."

"They squirmed as most prey do if not properly killed when struck, both of them," complained the female. "It was all we could do to keep from eating them en route."

Blue eyed the falcon pair warily. Even in the dim light he could make out the distinctive patterns and coloring of their feathers and out of habit committed them to memory, along with nuances of their harsh song. As he knew hundreds of other types of birds, he now knew the peregrine falcon. And feared them. These birds preyed almost exclusively on other birds. "The creeper?" asked Blue, gaining more of his voice.

"Lying close beside you," said Red Claw. "In a tizzy, but apparently well enough physically. It won't leave your side."

Blue felt something small and warm lying against his side. He twisted his head around a bit and confirmed that it was indeed the creeper stretched out beside him, staring wide-eyed at the huge owl that towered above them, and shivering in terror. Blue struggled to a standing position and assessed his own condition in the process. The leg that the falcon had held in her talons was throbbing in pain, but Blue could put weight on it, so at least it wasn't broken. His shoulder was sore, but didn't seem to be seriously injured. He wasn't entirely sure yet about the rest of himself, but he doubted that the crow and grackle bites were too serious. Had the blackbird attack continued but a few seconds longer the story would have been different. He'd have to try it to be sure, but he suspected that he could even fly.

The little creeper scooted to be squarely underneath him, and peeped in terror, but also seemed fit. It could have been worse, much worse. He turned to face the two falcons. "Thank you both for saving us," he stated, switching to falcon common language. "I am Blue Dawn Jay of Song Wood. Who are you?"

"Amusing. Prey asks who we are, love," said the male.

"Clever little thing. It even speaks tolerably well falcon for a food bird," said the female, nodding in approval. "I am Swift Wing."

"And I am of course Mate to Swift Wing," said her mate, who was named in the manner of male raptors.

"You sang that Great Beak sent you?"

"A reasonably accurate statement," agreed the male. "We had reason to believe that Yellow Claw could not be trusted to be totally rational when it came to dealing with the invaders."

"And Great Beak apparently has reason to believe that it is important that you live," added the female. "I myself am not fully convinced of that. I find it hard to believe that any number of blackbirds could stand any chance against us raptors. We rule the air. We have no need of song bird help."

"Help from prey birds is needed to protect us raptors, according to Great Beak," said Mate to Swift Wing, cocking his head to better watch Red Claw's reaction to such a strange statement.

To everyone's surprise the great owl slowly nodded in agreement. "And the songbirds need the raptors," he added, switching the conversation back to Plain Song. "Great Beak is right. We will all need each other, I believe, before this is over."

"You astonish me, mighty Red Claw," said Swift Wing. "Surely you can not doubt your own prowess. What possible threat could cowardly blackbirds be to you?"

"The storm is past, and light of the twin orbs returns for a short time, falcons," she replied. "Look to the ground outside my tree for what your small falcon eyes missed earlier in the near-darkness of the storm."

The falcons hopped to the hollow tree's opening, now bright with evening sunlight, and looked outside. "Caw-caw-caw, yaw-yaw-yaw," sang dozens of blackbirds from the surrounding trees, but the falcons hardly glanced at them. They primarily looked down, in wide-eyed disbelief. Curious, Blue poked his head out between the falcons and followed their gaze. Far below at the base of the great tree, heaps of twisted, broken black bodies lay. The sun glinted on some of the smaller bodies, causing them to show tinges of green and purple. These were grackles, while the larger bodies were crows. Other feathers of various colors lay scattered here and there, twisting in the wind, bloodied and broken. Some were blue jay feathers, Blue noticed with dismay.

"They came at mid-morning, driving all songbirds before them," sang the owl soberly. "The jays fought for every song bird and tree, but there were ten blackbirds and more for every one of them. I stood where you now stand, watching and trying to make sense of it, when they saw me and attacked."

"They dared to attack you in your own nesting place?" asked Swift Wing, incredulous.

"Dozens of them. I crushed them and tore them apart, but still more came, singing the same nonsense song, over and over, as though they had gone mad."

"Their song of the New Order," stated Blue.

"To the south-east in the wetlands we too have heard that song," said Mate to Swift Wing.

"As has Great Beak, along the rivers near her range," added Swift Wing.

"Yes, the New Order," nodded Red Claw. That is what they sang of as they attacked me. But what does it mean? What do they want? Does even wise Great Beak know?"

"Not entirely," said Swift Wing. "At present she knows only for certain that they must be stopped. She suspects, however, that they mean to take over the World. The blackbirds are allied with the invaders, the Old Ones, and they destroy the Great Balance."

"The Old Ones have truly returned?" said Red Claw, voice only a hissing whisper, as though even the mighty owl feared to speak of such things aloud. "I heard rumors, but there are always some such stories. Birds sing nonsense as much as truth. More, perhaps."

"It is more than rumor," said Blue. "This creeper calls them humans." He sang the strange word in the strange language that the creeper had shown him. "They have a strange, slow, plain, primitive language that the grackles and crows have apparently mastered, if they are their allies. The creeper has learned the language and has taught much of it to me. But he also sings of a human that befriended him against the blackbirds."

"Captain Jack is friend," piped the creeper, from where he hid underneath Blue. "Captain Jack helps small birds flee from the blackbirds."

"Captain Jack is an Old One?" asked Red Claw, repeating the strange name, though poorly.

"Is human," sang the creeper. "Big crawler that walks on two legs, like a bird. Smaller set of front legs with claws used for picking up things. No wings, no feathers. They have many strange things they have made that they use to help them do many things. That be humans. Big clever crawlers. Brownie not know what is an Old One."

"Indeed," said Mate to Swift Wing, clearly amused to be speaking with the tiny songbird. "Wisdom from tiny prey! How can any of us be sure what is or is not an Old One? Far too many seasons have occurred since their passing to know them well. We have ancient songs of Old Ones, but nothing more. I have seen these crawlers for myself from a safe distance, and know that they are different from birds, but very clever, and very dangerous. They kill for no reason. They match in some ways what is sung of the Old Ones, in other ways they may differ. Most noticeably they clear the land of forest, whereas the Old Ones are said to have created the forest. That would be a contradiction, would it not?"

"OOOOO," hooted Red Claw mournfully. "To destroy the forest is madness. What of the Scourge?"

"The Scourge was real?" asked Blue. Giant crawlers that eat everything? He thought it was just an old story to scare nestlings into learning to fly and do their duties.

"As real as the Old Ones themselves, song bird," stated Swift Wing. "Whatever these strangers are, they destroy the Balance and are therefore evil. With the Balance destroyed, according to old songs, the Scourge will indeed return. Yet this prey bird sings of one of them that is a friend to songbirds and opposes blackbirds. Why would some ally themselves with blackbirds, and others with songbirds? Perhaps they have Freedom of Flight as do birds, though without flight? Are they as birds, with some that prey on certain creatures, as raptors prey on other birds, and some that do not? There is much we do not understand of them."

"We must know more about them," said Red Claw. "There is strength gained from knowledge. What do the Old Ones and the blackbirds plan, and when?"

"Two weeks," piped up the creeper again.

"Yes, two weeks," repeated Blue. "That is what Black Heart sang. Some important thing is to happen in two weeks. At that time Yellow Claw is to be repaid by the blackbirds for our capture."

"What will happen?" demanded the owl.

"He did not sing what will happen," replied Blue.

Red Claw shook her shaggy head. "Blackbirds have always kept their own council. But we must find out what we can, though I don't know what we'll be able to do about it. Two weeks is too soon."

Swift Wing nodded. "We raptors gather even now, heeding the call of our Talon Council, but the full gathering is not to be complete for several weeks. Of course, that gathering could be accelerated, given great enough cause."

"We should send word immediately to do so," said Red Claw. "Events are indeed accelerating. We might not have even two weeks."

"What of the Great Council of Songbirds?" asked Blue of Red Claw. "Black Heart sang that he destroyed it. What does it mean? Has there been news of survivors?"

The great owl shook his head slowly. "I do not know what has become of your Council and those that sang in it. You were yourself to Song Wood, Blue, you may know more about the fate of the Council than do I. I know only that what Black Heart or any blackbird sings and what is true are not always the same thing. Blackbird is the most devious blackbird of them all. Always he squawks to gain his own advantage, not to enlighten others."

Blue cocked his head thoughtfully. "That the blackbirds have successfully attacked the Council I have seen for myself, but crows and even grackles are clumsy fliers compared with many songbirds. I am certain that many escaped. Not even the jays would all fight to the death, given hopeless odds and some chance to escape. Therefore it follows that survivors may be scattered throughout Song Wood thickets. Besides, birds sing. Word of the attack must be now spreading through the forest. Flocks of jays will counter attack soon, of that I am very certain."

Blue hopped to the tree opening and peered at the surrounding trees. Blackbirds seemed to number as leaves on those trees, and still more were arriving. He could feel hundreds of their black eyes looking at him. There were too many, and they knew where he was. "The jays will not gather in time or in great enough numbers to help me and the small bird soon enough, and the blackbirds know we are here. They will attack today, perhaps when their own numbers are even greater."

"They number too many already for my taste," said Swift Wing. "Shall we do something about these impudent prey, my love?"

"Kreeeeee," answered her mate, and before anything else could be sung both falcons launched themselves out of the owl den, racing towards the closest tree full of blackbirds. Dozens of crows and grackles took to the air in all directions, their screams and frantic wing flapping almost sounding as if the storm had returned. Blue saw the falcons begin to strike down blackbirds one at a time with their powerful talons and beaks, and for a few wondrous moments it appeared as though the entire Black Flock was in full retreat. Then almost as one the blackbirds turned and attacked; massive groups of birds so dense that their numbers could not be seen. "Kill, kill, kill!" they screamed. "For the New Order."

In seconds it was the falcons that were retreating as they dodged the noisy, charging mass of screaming blackbirds. The crows were slower and far more awkward than the falcons, but they were so numerous and potentially dangerous that the falcons needed to dodge their heavy bodies almost constantly. The grackles were an even greater threat because of their agility. The falcons tried to escape upwards but swirling black bodies blocked their path. Soon the two falcons were desperately fighting for their lives.

"Stay here and guard the creeper," Blue told Red Claw impudently, as he too leapt from the den. In moments he was among them, striking deadly or crippling blows to one blackbird after another, screaming the fighting cries of the red hawk and of the jay, and breaking through to the falcons.

As had happened when the falcons attacked, several blackbirds initially panicked and flew off squawking in alarm, and most of their flock-mates immediately followed them, leaving the falcons and Blue hovering together almost alone. Blue heard several of the panicked blackbirds sing of the Blue Death. "To the den!" Blue sang to the falcons, who seemed to be winded and disoriented, though they followed the retreat of their foes with angry flashing eyes.

For a moment, the furious falcons seemed to consider attacking again rather than retreating, but they wisely turned and flew towards the owl den, followed by Blue, followed by a hundred blackbirds, who had quickly regrouped and were rapidly closing on the retreating trio. Two grackles blocked their retreat, but were struck down easily by the bloody talons of the angry falcons, as they dove into the owl den, followed by Blue. The trio landed on top of each other in a tumble but rose to their feet almost immediately, expecting a deluge of enemies to follow.

None followed. In the opening to her den with her massive back to Blue and the falcons Red Claw stood, baring entry with talons, beak, and bulk. Outside, the blackbirds squawked, swarmed, and attacked. Around the heaving sides of Red Claw Blue caught glimpses of them, a black mass of fluttering wings, open beaks and angry eyes, as they hovered and awkwardly struck at the big owl.

If instead they chose to withdraw and dive swiftly at the big raptor one or two at a time, their attack may have been much more effective. As it was, with her wings bracing her in the opening to her den, the owl was able to hold them back. She struck the screaming blackbirds down one by one with massive beak and claws, crushing skulls, tearing throats, and ripping wings. Blue could hear dozens of them chant about the New Order as they attacked. He could also hear their death squawks, as they fell to the ground far below.

Occasionally a crow or grackle head would poke its way past the owl, where it was quickly dispatched by one of the falcons or by Blue. Otherwise it was the owl that did all of the fighting, for it was the den of Red Claw that was being attacked.

The carnage continued beyond all belief and reason. There seemed to be no end to the Black Flock, but at last as darkness fell the attack finally stopped. It was a battle-weary owl that at last turned to re-enter her den, covered from beak to talon in blackbird blood. "I will rest briefly and preen, then I will call my fellow owls and we will show them what owls can do at night," squawked the owl, obviously much more angry than weary.

As the great owl preened, Blue, Brownie, and the falcons, who where equally weary, preened also before seeking sleep. It was a fitful sleep. At one point Blue woke to sounds of fighting outside, and stumbled wearily to the den opening. Mate to Swift Wing stood guard silently, listening and watching, though the raptor's night vision was nearly as poor as Blue's. "What is happening?" Blue asked.

"Raptor revenge, song bird, by the sound of it. The owls are busy tonight."

Blue poked his head out of the den. The night was alive with intermittent fluttering of wings, hooting of owls, and screams of dying blackbirds. Blue occasionally glimpsed dark shapes flying about, but couldn't tell if it was Owls or their prey that he saw.

"Away from the opening, blue one, lest you be mistaken for the enemy," advised Mate to Swift Wing after a short time. "Sleep well, little blue warrior, for we guard the den. There are blackbirds attempting to fly at night, so desperately do they seek sanctuary from our cousins the owls. The only sanctuary they will find here is swift death."

It was blackbird wings that could be heard, Blue realized, as owls in flight were silent. The owls could both hear and see their prey, while the blackbirds could only blindly flee. The jay at last withdrew and returned to lie next to the creeper and gain rest, but could not sleep deeply.

At early dawn Red Claw returned carrying a big crow carcass, which she began to tear up and devour in huge chunks. "Wake and eat, birds," she commanded, between bites. The falcons quickly joined in the meal, while Blue and Brownie watched on, hoping that these raptors wouldn't get carried away with blood lust and eat them too. In a short time almost nothing remained of the crow. Using one set of massive claws to gather remains, and the other to hop to the den opening, Red Claw tossed the pile of bloody bones and feathers out of her den and again addressed her guests. "We killed many hundreds of blackbirds, but there are thousands more. They are scattered now, but they will soon regroup and return for you, Blue. If any of you plan to leave here you should do so now. What do all of you plan to do?"

"A very interesting question indeed," said Swift Wing. "We were to see that the Blue one reached his Council safely, but now it appears that the Council is no more."

"A most distressing loss of tasty prey birds," commented Mate to Swift Wing. "An appalling waste of feathered food."

"And a distressing disruption of the Great Balance, that is sure," said Red Claw. "The Great Council and all its members may be lost."

"Strike True lives," stated Blue.

"How do you know that?" asked Red Claw.

Blue wasn't sure how; but he knew that it was true. "I will find him. I must find him. If any jay can organize the songbirds against the Black Flock it is him. The raptors and songbirds must cooperate in whatever will come."

Red Claw shook his great head. "Agreed. However, if the Black Flock is allied with the Old Ones, raptors and song birds together may not prove enough to defeat them."

Blue shrugged. "I know that Dark Heart is my enemy, I am not yet so sure of these Old Ones. In the oldest songs the Old Ones and birds were allies against the Scourge, before the Final Battle. Song Flame said that these Old Ones are clever. Perhaps they can be reasoned with."

"Captain Jack be song bird friend," stated the creeper meekly.

"Crawlers as friends?" squawked Swift Wing. "Impossible."

"Allies need not be friends," said Blue, glancing from raptor to raptor pointedly, "but total strangers can never be even allies. I will suggest to the Council that the Old Ones be sought out. We should try using song before using claw and beak."

"That has been attempted several times by raptors," said Swift Wing. "The Old Ones killed raptors that approached them for discussions, using strange powers."

"The Old Ones are small and weak, but carry strange fire-sticks which they use to kill without honor any raptor they see," said Mate to Swift Wing, his head bobbing in agreement. "The strange sticks kill at a distance. Some make a loud noise and throw tiny pebbles hard enough to puncture the body and even break bones. Other sticks they carry make a bright light like lightning that burns holes through birds at even greater distances."

"They fly in strange noisy dens," continued Swift Wing. "The dens are not alive, yet they have great powers. Some fly without old ones within them. How such things are possible is not understood by any bird. Some nests are huge and have wings and move higher and swifter than even the falcon. They can kill with these also, even the great eagle."

"They fly these much less often now, as even their great flying dens can be destroyed by a strong, clever raptor," said Mate to Swift Wing, "though often at the price of their own life."

"All very interesting and disturbing," said Red Claw. "At least now that Great Beak leads the Talon Council, song about these matters is at last being heard. When Yellow Claw led the Talon Council, there was more silence than song. But such song must wait, for you must leave soon."

"I will today search within the thickets for the Great Council and Strike True," said Blue. "It is a job ill-suited for great-winged falcons."

Swift Wing nodded in agreement. "Yet we must return word from your council to ours, if yours exists and can be found. I propose that we falcons fly high above Song Wood with falcon eyes, to learn what we may, and return here to roost in this den at dusk this night and tomorrow night, awaiting word from you of your Council. We will doubtless encounter other falcons. Thus we can send word also to Great Beak to further accelerate the gathering of raptors, for it is clear that war has already begun."

"That is agreed," said Red Claw. "Blue, tell your Council that songbirds must also gather. We must coordinate an attack on the Black Flock, but where and when will require more information, and a council of war between raptors and songbirds to work out details."

"More important than details at this stage, you must give us some word from your Great Council of their support," continued Swift Wing.

"I will return here with word from the Council, if I am able," agreed Blue.

"If you do not return by the second night, we will still take word of what has happened to the Talon Council," said Swift Wing. "If you return later with word of the Great Council, they can at least begin planning with Red Claw."

"I will leave at once," said Blue.

"And what of the creeper?" asked Red Claw. "Will the tiny one stay with me?"

Blue eyed the little brown bird, which had crouched trembling underneath him the whole time. "No, he can go with me, assuming he can fly. In the thickets he will not slow me down. Besides, I have noticed that he is a little nervous around raptors."

The great owl squawked with laughter. "Fly free, Blue Dawn Jay," she said solemnly, nodding towards the den exit.

"Fly free, prey birds," echoed Swift Wing and Mate to Swift Wing.

Blue nodded at the raptors, then dropped quietly from the owl's den to fly from the area at nearly ground level. As he expected, Brownie followed him competently, and they were soon deep in the forest. They flew slowly and cautiously, staying under cover of leaf as much as possible. Nearby thickets were avoided, as it possible that they harbored hiding or convalescing blackbirds.

In open patches of forest they saw that the ground was littered grotesquely with scores of dead blackbirds and songbirds, their bodies already being eaten by marching armies and winged swarms of unimpeded crawlers. The relative silence was as terrible; no songbirds sang, only flying crawlers buzzed among the dead, and the only birds they heard were crows and grackles overhead, moving back to re-establish themselves as the greatly outnumbered owls retreated to their dens.

When they were nearly halfway to Council Tree, the crows and grackles were becoming too numerous and bold for them to continue flying. Blue led the creeper to heavy thickets near home-nesting grounds that he was very familiar with.

As he expected, under the heavy cover of dense tangled growth, several tired, beat-up looking songbirds huddled wearily within the thicket, resting. None were jays. Seeing immediately that he and the creeper were not blackbirds, the tired birds ignored them. Blue recognized the red bellied woodpecker; years ago they had frolicked together as nestlings. Blue hopped close to the bird, who continued to ignore him. "What news, Thunk?"

The woodpecker lifted his head slowly and looked more carefully at the newcomers. "Blue? Blue Dawn Jay? It is you!" She hopped over to him and affectionately butted the side of his head with the side of hers. Most birds affectionately pecked each other's heads with their bills, but not woodpeckers – that would be much too dangerous a habit for them. "I heard that you were gone far away on a quest."

"I'm still on a quest, or perhaps we all are. Have you seen any of the Council? Or any jays?"

"No. Not since the blackbirds attacked yesterday. What is happening? Have they all gone mad?"

"Worse. The blackbirds have gone to war and threaten the Great Balance. You say you have seen no jays since yesterday?"

"The blackbirds seemed to be focusing on them. Jays told us to hide here, then they returned to the battle. They did not return to us. We fear that they have all been killed."

A black-capped chickadee hopped closer to the singing pair. "Happy to see a jay. I was at the Council Tree when the blackbird attack came. Council was in session. I saw the Council and the jay flock-fight the blackbirds, then flee. There were too many blackbirds, far too many."

"Too many, too many," echoed several other birds with quiet voices, nodding wearily.

"Do you know where the Council went?"

"No. Possibly some went with the jays. Some died, for sure. They are probably hiding in no one place. We scattered, we all did, and soon did not see others."

"I must find jays. Where are they?"

"Don't know, sorry," sang the Chickadee. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, echoed the others."

The birds shook their heads sadly and returned to their napping. This was the usual bird response to trouble: to find a safe place to rest quietly, and stay there until the trouble passed. Rest until the storm is over. Hide until the predators are gone. Wait for spring. Blue wished that he could do the same.

From above, the harsh cries of the blackbirds grew closer.

****

CHAPTER 11

ATTACK

After a few days, Kate fell into a routine. She would wake before dawn each morning to observe the birds, beginning with their emergence from their roosts in the Roc bar. After two hours of data collection she would focus more on analysis, though she would often do so on an outside deck, which allowed her to still keep track of the local birds.

Fortunately, shade giving trees still surrounded the Roc Inn and Bar, but by noon the suns were directly overhead and there was no escaping their effect. The heat reminded Kate of Earth, where she had studied for several years, but because of the dense atmosphere and high humidity, summer days on Aves were even more oppressive. On most afternoons she moved inside to her air-conditioned rooms to rest or to analyze data.

She continued her investigations on bird intelligence, including examination of brain size and structure. She relied heavily on the dozens of recorded dissections carried out in the first year after the planet was discovered. Like the Aves pioneers, she was startled and intrigued with the findings. The most astonishing fact was that Aves birdbrains were structured similar to those of Earth birds, though enormously enlarged, with some brain areas enlarged much more than others.

The rear or lower 'primitive' section of the brain was expanded well beyond proportional enlargement and highly complex in appearance. The cerebellum, which controls muscles and movement, was comparable in size to that of similarly sized Earth mammals, making it proportionally much larger than in Earth birds. This suggested that Aves birds were capable of skilled movements. Most striking, the medulla oblongata was enormous, suggesting greatly enhanced vocal and hearing capabilities.

The optic lobes of the midbrain were large, though not disproportional to other enlargements. Kate supposed that the visual capabilities of Aves birds far surpassed even those of Earth birds, given the huge size and wide spacing of the eyes.

The front of the brain was perhaps most interesting. The basal ganglia was huge, suggesting capabilities of an unknown nature. She had witnessed bird songs of incredible complexity, perhaps this enlargement was related to sound production and listening. Most startling however, was that unlike Earth birds, these birds had cerebral cortex structures. These structures appeared to be fully as large and complex as those of humans. In some cases, they appeared to exceed those of humans. Conclusion: these creatures had to be highly intelligent. But in what way? That could only be determined with certainty through the study of bird behavior.

She also learned that instead of having two voice boxes like Earth birds, Aves birds had eight that were each highly complex.

In the log, Kate found the human behavior that was documented to be very interesting also. The recordings showed a great deal of Captain Jack. Bigger than life, the Captain was at the center of everything, leading the pioneering expedition skillfully in those early years. It was easy to see why he was so highly respected. By way of contrast, Helmins was a shadowy figure in the background who gradually emerged and refocused efforts from exploration to Corporation food production.

In the early records John Weltman seemed almost like another person. Outgoing, competent, confident, and cheerful, the Weltman of the first two Aves years was clearly Captain Jack's right-hand man. When there was a problem to solve or a battle to be fought, Weltman was usually the person to handle it successfully.

In the more recent records Weltman virtually disappeared from the recordings, aside from occasional incidental glimpses of him as an almost unrecognizable, wasted, drunken shadow of his former self.

Though the historical record was interesting, Kate's primary focus was science, and any serious biological investigation had to include genetics. Hampered by equipment limitations, her genetic investigation was proceeding very slowly, with samples being processed as background tasks on her COM unit. The COM unit capability was limited such that she could only process about two samples a day, but these had already produced startling results. The fact that what was claimed by the Corporation to be alien life forms had Earth-like genetic based life at all was itself an astonishing find, but Kate confirmed that their DNA matched that of the corresponding Earth species by close to 90%, though the remaining 10% didn't match any known Earth DNA. There could be no doubt that ancestry was common for Earth and Aves species, and there could also be no doubt that Corporation scientists had known this from the very beginning and lied to Earth about it. The modifications done to the Aves species were enormous, however, far greater than had ever been attempted by Earth scientists.

Besides match-testing the DNA for two bird species, Kate had also tested a tree and three small creatures. All species tested except one turned out to be primarily Earth organisms, though significantly modified. A revoltingly ugly, many-legged-worm tested as 100% non-Earth-like in its genetic structure. Was this an error in processing or was this a true alien species? She observed birds eating the creatures eagerly without adverse effects, but she didn't have enough data to fully understand the significance of that. Did they eat them only because they were outwardly similar to Earth-prey, or did they derive nutritive value from eating them? More bird study was needed.

More study was needed on the worm itself. She dissected it, and found totally unfamiliar anatomical structures. The very basics of how it lived were unknown, making it very interesting.

She also encountered several gigantic mushrooms that were oddly formed and colored. She wasn't yet sure if these were based on an Earth-like species or were totally native to Aves.

More study was needed on everything. She had barely scratched the surface so far, and she was busy, far too busy. Though she had at first worried about not having access to enough data, now she worried about having far too much data. Raw data. Each day she collected far more observations than she could analyze, including bird calls, size measurements, tissue samples, and behavioral observations. Even the archive of mission data would probably take many years to review thoroughly, and she was adding new data daily. Weltman also gave her several files of data that he collected as part of his investigations. These turned out to be mostly photographic and verbal descriptions of the missing and general descriptions of the circumstances of their disappearances. None of it seemed to be useful to her scientific efforts.

In other words, her general situation was pretty much as she had expected it would be. She was having the time of her life, but her effort was disorderly and progress was far too slow for Weltman's needs. The late-summer temperature was peaking, and the alleged bird attacks on humans might begin again at any time. Weltman needed scientific knowledge immediately that would be of practical value to him. She was finding out astounding things, but for Weltman she needed to move past science to application.

Kate hadn't even bothered to tell anyone the results of her brain studies and genetic matching efforts. Knowing that the birds were from Earth and were intelligent was interesting, but didn't seem to be either unexpected news or relevant to Weltman. She kept looking for some direct linkage between her findings and the disappearances, but could find none.

In the two months she had agreed to stay or even in twenty months, she could not possibly understand Aves or even its birds on her own. She needed shortcuts. If she was to achieve a practical level of understanding of Aves and its birds quickly she needed more than raw data, she needed to know what other scientists had determined about Aves and why. Her bar-room talks with Peter were tremendously fruitful, but she needed more. This morning, she hoped to be further enlightened, for Weltman was to take her to meet the only other Space Directorate scientist on Aves, Dr. Frank Lambert.

Before the sheriff arrived, Captain Jack visited. Instead of launching into morning pleasantries or inquiries about her progress as he usually did, he was strangely silent, and Kate sensed that something serious was on his mind, something that he was hesitant to discuss. Kate let it build up in the man until it finally burst out.

"Kate, I notice that you get on well with John. Maybe too well. He's my best friend in the world, but there are some things I think you should know about Weltman. Things that he isn't likely to talk about."

Kate slowly nodded. "The first day we met, he was telling me that some people on Aves have lost a lot, and I asked him what he had lost."

"And he told you?"

"No, he wouldn't talk about it. But from his moody reaction I knew he had been personally devastated by something. The mission historical data also suggests that something terrible happened to him a couple of years ago."

"Two Aves years ago his wife was among the first to mysteriously disappear."

"That's horrible!"

"She was a biologist, an insect specialist. She was studying insect life in the crop fields being constructed when she disappeared. They had just gotten married the month before that. She disappeared two Aves years ago next week."

"He has deep scars."

"Damn right he does. John is still the best damn man on Aves, in my opinion, but he's only a shadow of what he used to be. After his wife disappeared he started drinking and not caring about anything. Based on what he used to be, and with my backing, he won the sheriff's job, but compared to the man he used to be, he's mostly just been coasting along.

"The main thing keeping him going lately has been his investigation of the disappearances. It's become almost an obsession, but it has brought him around some. He figures it's the birds, and wants to prove it. He saw a lot of action against birds in those early years, saw a lot of friends killed by birds, and he thinks they took his wife. But he needs help."

"I'm doing all that I can."

"Right. Actually, you're helping him maybe more than you know. Hey, I see the way you two get on and I can do the math, but I'm not sure he's ready. I like you Kate, and wouldn't want to see you getting hurt, or him either. So I just thought you should know."

Oh my God, thought Kate! Jack was talking about her and John being romantically involved! She liked John well enough, but Jack was delusional. Wasn't he?

"Know what?" asked Weltman, as he entered the room.

"Every damn thing there is to know, John," replied Jack with a smile. "That's why you're going to visit Frank with her, right?"

"Right," agreed John. "Sure thing, Captain. We're visiting Frank in order to know every damn thing there is to know."

****

Frank Lambert lived only a short distance away, in a small house that was built of stone, of all things. The windows were made of steel bars. He didn't answer Weltman's knocking or shouting, but the sturdy metal door was unlocked, and the sheriff led Kate inside.

"Kate, this is Dr. Frank Lambert," announced John. "Frank, wake the hell up; this is Dr.Kate Deborg, the Directorate scientist they sent to help us." Kate stood at John's side, taking in everything with growing dismay; the strange, filthy, trash filled cabin, the empty liquor bottles, the sewer smell, and above all the hairy, filthy little man that sat slumped before them in a disgusting recliner. He seemed to be in ten times worse shape than Weltman had been in, when she first met him. On Mars, with its enclosed and controlled environments, this man would have been decontaminated and arrested, then shipped back to Earth for major therapy.

The man's eyes opened halfway, but couldn't seem to focus. "Leave me the fuck alone." he mumbled tersely, before he closed his eyes again, and lifted to his lips a whisky bottle that he picked up in shaking hands.

John let him take one big swallow, and then snatched the bottle away.

Lambert's eyes popped wide open, blazing with anger, as he launched himself awkwardly out of his chair and stumbled towards the bottle, not paying attention to anything else. "Give it back to me, you thieving bastard!"

John held the bottle behind him with one hand, and easily restrained Lambert with the other. "After we talk, Frank. Now pull yourself together, this is important. Try to be a scientist for a few minutes, OK? Tell us what you know about Aves."

His strength spent, the man fell backward into his chair. "I don't know any more, why can't you bastards just leave me alone? Why won't you let me leave this fucking death trap of a planet? You can't keep me here, I'm a goddamn citizen and a goddamn Space Directorate employee! I don't gave a shit about your fucking Corporation one way or another."

"Frank, it's not the Corporation, it's me, Johnny."

His eyes seemed to focus for the first time on the sheriff. "Johnny? Where the hell you been? I'm almost out of squeeze."

"Later Frank, this is Kate Deborg, the biologist the Space Directorate sent to me. She wants to talk to you."

He seemed to notice Kate for the first time, his eyes wandering up and down her body openly before finding her face. "Damn. That's just a little girl, though a pretty damn good looking one, and she's no damn senior scientist, that's for sure. They can say they sent you someone Johnny, but you needed a whole damn independent team of scientists of all types, top people, not just a young sprig of a girl. Young lady, you're being used, same as me. The Directorate sent you so they can say they responded to John's request, but we're just their political cover. The Corporation has the Directive bought off, and we're both the proof of it. Not that it matters much, but what is your specialty?"

"I am an exoplanetary biologist," retorted Kate.

"Shit, a biologist. And a bird expert too, I bet. I told you Johnny, birds ain't the key. Interesting as hell, sure, but you have got to look at the bigger picture. It's bigger than birds."

"And I told you before, Frank, I just want to solve the murders, I don't want to figure out the whole damn planet!"

"The murders are tied to the whole damn planet, you idiot! The whole damn thing is going to hell, I tell you! Where it's all headed is clear from the fucking geology! Here, look at this." He pointed to the thermometer on the wall. "Almost forty degrees Celsius. Did it ever get that hot when this was forest? No damn way! The ground temperature is way-up, out there in the summer sun, in the open fields, away from the trees. We've boosted the damn C-O-2 already, and cleared too much forest. There'll be a price to pay, for undoing their work."

"Whose work?" asked Kate. "What do you mean?"

Fear suddenly filled his eyes. "I don't know, I tell you. I really don't. Anything I say is just the fucking booze talking. Get me out of here, Johnny, anywhere off Aves. Just get me the hell away from here. Please Johnny? I just want to forget this place."

"There are no flights off-planet until after harvest, Frank, you know that. Just relax until then. After the Corporation pulls the harvest off, they won't care where you go or what you say to anybody. I'll put you on the first flight out myself, I promise."

Frank started laughing hysterically, as if Weltman had just told a big joke. "Aves will harvest US first Johnny, we're the fucking harvest! And it's too damn late to fix it."

John grabbed him by the shoulders. "What is too late to fix, Frank? What is?"

Frank's laughter stopped, and he seemed to sober up again, but his eyes were wild. "Head for the mountains, if you can, Johnny. Get yourself a good woman and some supplies and head for the mountains right now, before it gets any hotter."

"Why Frank, why should I head for the hills?"

"Don't know, exactly." Frank suddenly grabbed the whisky bottle out of John's hands and ran with it to the corner of the room, laughing as he guzzled it down. "Don't know, don't know, don't know," he babbled. "But it's happening anyway!"

John tried to talk with him further, but it was no use, the interview was over. It took half an hour to calm Frank down and get him to take a nap. Then John and Kate left the sleeping scientist and walked back towards the Roc.

"What happened to Lambert, John?"

Weltman shrugged. "Aves happened to him. He used to be a top-notch geologist, him and his wife."

"His wife is here on Aves too?" She regretted asking when she saw the hurt showing in Weltman's face. He had to be thinking of his own wife, and losing her, she realized.

He turned away from her as he answered; perhaps not wanting to expose what he has feeling, but it was useless, his pain was too obvious. "His wife only lasted a month, before the birds got her. That was in the first year. It was a bird war then; the damn birds were everywhere. No mysterious disappearances yet, but the birds simply attacked day and night. He saw her ripped to pieces by them. And now he drinks to forget."

"He's an alcoholic; so why do you give him alcohol?"

"Because I'd rather he got it from me. I spike it with medicines that counter the worst effects of the alcohol. Besides that, I've been cutting way back on how much real alcohol that I give him; what he gets from me is less than ten percent real. If he got real liquor from somebody else that would be a big problem. Believe it or not, he's in better shape now than he used to be. At this rate he'll be totally off alcohol in maybe three more months and still have a healthy liver."

"I see."

"I have to hide what I'm doing from the Corporation. They want to keep Frank a drunk alcoholic."

"Lambert seemed more worried about the heat than the birds. What was that all about?"

The sheriff shook his head. "Don't know. That's as much as he ever says. More than usual, even. We could never figure out anything from it. Just crazy talk, we figure. The heat talk started when the disappearances picked up steam last summer. The disappearances relate to the hot weather somehow, he's probably right about that much."

"So, he freaked out when his wife was killed?"

"No. True, he generally went to shit after she was killed, but never anything this bad. When the disappearances started up again last summer he suddenly got much, much worse. He advised all his friends to leave the planet. Then he tried to transfer off of Aves himself, but even the Federation wanted him to stay here, him being their only representative on the planet. The Corporation wanted him to stay also, for political cover. Almost anyone that would replace him would be more competent and hence more of a problem to the Corporation. Now he won't even leave his damned house. You noticed the floor and walls?"

"Looks like some sort of stone and cement, under all the trash."

"Right. He built this stone cabin, and he keeps reinforcing it, one bag of cement and a couple steel rods at a time. What passes for cement on Aves isn't cheap either, since we don't have limestone and or much gravel either. Every few days he gets sober enough to call me up and have Tiny drop off a bag of the stuff along with his food supplies and just enough booze to keep him going. We figure he's building some kind of earthquake proof shelter."

"Earthquake? What has he told you about Aves geology?"

"He is mystified by it; we all have been from the beginning. I guess because Aves outwardly seems so much like Earth, we expected the geology to be similar, but it isn't. The pieces just don't fit."

"In what ways?"

"There are surface stone deposits scattered all about that the birds use. The geologists have no explanation for them. The biologists seem to think that the birds created the deposits somehow, but it's an unsolved mystery in my book."

"Aside from that, sedimentary rocks are just about impossible to find. Stones are mostly igneous, those few that can be found."

"That doesn't make any sense. There's soil and life all over the place. There should be millions of years of sediment and sedimentary rock. Hundreds of millions actually, like on Earth, if any sort of life actually evolved here."

"There is sediment, plenty of it, but it hasn't congealed into rock, at least not on the continent. There are impossible depths of top-soil, many hundreds of meters deep in places, all alive with microbes and mysteriously churned up except for the top ten meters or so. Much of the soil bacteria and other life in the first few meters looks like it is from Earth, by the way, but the deeper life forms are mostly native."

"I found a big many-legged worm that appears to be native."

"Those are found at all depths that we have explored. Maybe there are enough of such beasts to churn the soil, but what do the soil creatures eat ultimately?"

"Microorganisms, probably, but the ecosystem must derive energy from the suns, ultimately, via trees and other plants that in turn feed the soil."

"That much is understood, but that only explains a few tens of meters of soil, not hundreds of meters. For hundreds of meters Aves soil hasn't formed into rock. It's as if it hasn't been allowed to form into rock layers.

Kate's mind was still spinning. Many hundreds of meters of top soil? There has been life here for many millions of years after all! On earth it would take hundreds of years to form a few centimeters of top-soil. Here on Aves it might happen faster, but it still must have taken countless millions of years to build hundreds of meters of it. But that didn't fit. The birds had to have been brought here within the last million years or so, or they wouldn't so closely match Earth birds from a genetic standpoint. So the current bird-dominated ecosystem hadn't formed most of the sediment. "What of fossils and evolution?"

"Fossils are very rare. The planetary astronomy folks were surprised to find highly evolved life forms in a two-star system at all. Usually planet orbits in multi-star systems are unstable and don't last for the billions of years needed to evolve complex life-forms. Here there is no evidence of billions of years of evolution, or of even the last few million years. For example, I've heard that no fossils of birds have been found."

"No fossils of birds at all? But this is the bird planet! What fossils have been found?"

"There are some really old worm type fossils, maybe a hundred million years or so old, plus some primitive plant life. Huge mushroom type things, mostly, and algae on land and in the water. But no birds or bird ancestors. And of course you're right, that's impossible. After all this is Aves, the bird planet." He looked at Kate. "Hey, you don't even seem surprised."

Grinning, Kate told him about her gene matching results.

"No shit!" he exclaimed. "So it's true then. I thought so since my first day on Aves. That the fucking Corporation has managed to keep it secret this long is amazing enough, but how the hell did Earth life get here in the first place?"

"You tell me; you're the spaceship pilot."

"In the Space Directorate and among commercial pilots there rumors of UFO sightings. Alien spaceships so advanced that for centuries they have evaded our study."

Weltman's communicator buzzed and he put it to his ear and listened for several seconds before responding. "I'll be there pronto. Get our gear ready, and we'll fly." He doubled his walking pace after signing off, his face stern. "That was Tiny. Two more people are missing from a field north of here; both of them old friends of mine."

They walked rapidly without speaking, John thinking of his missing friends, Kate struggling to keep pace while trying unsuccessfully to put together in her mind a scientific overview of Aves that made any sense. Meanwhile the twin suns pounded heat down on them relentlessly, and walking through the thick, moist air was almost like pushing through water. On Aves humans have to pace themselves, and they were pushing it to the limit. The walkers were both sweating profusely from the extra effort by the time they reached the Sheriff's office. They walked to the back of the building where Tiny waited for John with armfuls of guns and what looked like camping gear.

Kate was surprised to see parked next to the gear what appeared to be an impossibly tiny, primitive looking aircraft that faced towards a short stretch of open field. It looked more like an oversized homemade toy than something that was designed to carry people; it had a ceramic composite tubular frame over which was stretched heavy fabric that covered delta-shaped, overhead wings and a rudder control surface. The material also completed small enclosed areas at the front and back of the fuselage, apparently designed to provide storage. Some of the fabric was yellow or orange, but the fabric covering most of the wings and the cockpit area was transparent. Transparency would be an advantage when flying in a world with giant birds that can attack from any direction, Kate reasoned.

Aft of the rear storage compartment a small fuel burning combustion engine sat in front of a rear facing, four bladed propeller less than a meter across which was housed inside a flimsy looking protective housing. What looked like two bicycle seats with safety straps, control-laden handlebars and foot rests occupied the middle part of the fuselage behind a clear windshield. The front seat, obviously that of the pilot, had the most control switches and displays, and controlled a bicycle-like front wheel in true bicycle fashion. Two widely spaced fixed rear bicycle wheels supported most of the scooter's weight.

Generally only a layer of fabric separated a passenger from the outside of the vehicle. A helmet was sitting on each of the small seats.

After a few moments, Kate to regained speech. "I thought that airplanes weren't used on Aves. Of course, this looks more like a kite or bicycle than an airplane."

Weltman smiled. "We tried using lots of unmanned drones, early on, but the birds made short work of most of those. There are only a few automated high-altitude unmanned scout craft still in use, which fly above raptor capabilities. Flying manned aircraft is suicidal. Still, certain idiots use manned planes like this one in an emergency. We call this a two-man air scooter. Tiny and I need to get to New Saint Louis immediately; that's near the northern extreme of the settlements, two hundred kilos by air or four hundred by poor roads. Besides, I want to do some searching for possible survivors and murderers from the air. Given our truce with the birds, it's a chance I'm willing to take."

"What about me?"

"You can drive up in our ground tram, if you want to. In fact, if you could haul equipment for us, it will save us the trouble of hiring someone. Assuming you don't get too lost, you should get there by nightfall. The roads are lousy, by Earth or Mars standards."

She shook her head. "Tiny can drive the ground tram. I need to get to the crime scene and help you. I can't drive a big tram over strange roads, but I can fly as a passenger just fine."

"No way. It's too damn dangerous, Kate! The smallest bird could knock us out of the sky. Hell, maybe even a butterfly could, on this planet. Besides, you aren't ready to go and Tiny is."

"I can pack and be ready in twenty minutes. We'll more than make that time up due to our reduced flight weight."

"She's right about that, boss," said Tiny. "The scooter will be faster and more maneuverable without me in it. Plus, I could start to coordinate a ground search from the tram as I drive, and bring most of the heavy gear, which isn't even packed yet. If she drives she'll get herself lost for sure, and she don't know what to bring, even if she were strong enough to pack it and drive the tram."

Weltman apprised Tiny's massive frame thoughtfully. He didn't like the idea but they were right. The tiny plane would be heavily burdened carrying the big man. "Alright, you drive the heavy gear up, Tiny, but we'll carry full survival gear and weapons on the scooter. I ain't flying this thing into the outback without that. I'll take the zoom and infrared scope extensions too; Kate can attach them to her COM. I want to start the search before I land. We should have at least two hours of light left when we get there. Fit Dr. Deborg here with a glide suit pronto, Tiny. We leave in ten minutes."

"But I have to pack," objected Kate, as Tiny, grinning, sized up Kate visually for a few moments before rushing off towards the Sheriff's Office.

Weltman was busy going through the gear, setting items aside that Tiny could tram to New Saint. "No time for you to pack, Kate. This isn't a vacation. We already have survival gear packed including provisions; we can pick up more supplies tonight in New Saint, if we need too. I assume that fancy COM unit you always carry has about all that you need, science equipment wise?"

"I could use some more empty data cubes and some type-three power packs."

"We have those on the scooter already." He resumed rummaging through the equipment that was piled next to the plane and putting selected items into the storage bin behind the passenger seat. "Anything else?"

"Got motion sickness pills?"

Grinning, Weltman pulled a small pillbox from his shirt pocket and opened it. Kate glimpsed a couple of dozen tiny pills of various colors. He picked out two blue ones, popped one into his own mouth, and handed the second one to Kate. As he did so, he looked past her with a frown at a large, noisy land-vehicle that was rapidly approaching the station. Kate followed his gaze and observed Governor George Keto emerge from the big, black, ancient but opulent auto. He was smiling, his face the impenetrable mask of a politician.

"Weltman, it's a good thing I caught up with you," he said after a nod of greeting to Kate and the application of a handkerchief to his sweating forehead. "I've just heard from Zeke Thomas. He doesn't want you tramping around New Saint and destroying evidence that he needs to track down Conners and Smith with, and I agree."

Weltman returned to the task of packing equipment onto the scooter. "Me mess up evidence? Me? I could say the same of him and his Corporation cops. What's your point?"

"Just this John. I'm ordering you to stay out of this. Let the Corporation police do their jobs. Zeke is already on-site."

"Shit. Then they've probably already fucked things up, if it's being handled personally by Zeke. I'll have to try to pick up the pieces again."

"Did you hear me John? You aren't going. And you're surely not flying in this death-trap of an invention, even if by some miracle you are sober."

Weltman stared up at Keto, cold-eyed. "Just how you expect to stop me from doing my job George?"

"I'm declaring emergency powers. It's in our constitution."

Weltman laughed. "Emergency? So, at least you finally acknowledge that there is a problem? That's progress, of a sort. But frankly George, I don't give a shit what's in the constitution. I'm going out to find Conners and Smith. Period."

"I half expected that would be your reaction. Well, you and Tiny will be killed in that thing, that's for damn sure."

"Tiny is driving the tram. Kate and I are flying."

Keto's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious. Frankly, I won't miss you one bit, Weltman, but the political repercussions of losing a Federation scientist at this point would be unacceptable."

"I hadn't planned on losing her."

"I insist on going," said Kate. "John is against it."

Keto turned his attentions to Kate. "You're new here, Doctor Deborg, so maybe you don't fully appreciate the dangers. Flying airplanes on Aves is total lunacy."

"So I've been told by this other lunatic." She pointed at Weltman.

"Besides, you'd be missing a unique opportunity," the governor said. "I've just had a long talk with Mark Helmins about giving you full access to the Corporation's scientific efforts and he has agreed that it can be done."

It was Kate's turn to be surprised. "Full access?"

"Access to more data and reports than you can imagine."

"Unlimited access?"

Keto nodded hesitantly. "Unlimited if you agree to standard Corporation terms."

Weltman laughed. "Including non-disclosure agreements?"

Keto shrugged.

"So I can see everything if I agree not to say anything to anybody about it?"

"Only until after the harvest. Then you can scoop everyone by reporting anything you find out. We'll give you the science news exclusive."

"So in other words," said Weltman, "since you figure that Aves secrets are coming out soon anyway, you might as well make sure that Kate is under your control until then and help shape the news when it does come out."

Keto's smile broadened and he shrugged his shoulders, but he didn't bother to otherwise respond.

Kate tried to imagine what that would do to her career. In two or three months she could be flying towards sol with the inside story on the greatest planetary discovery in history. So what if she essentially became a Corporation geek temporarily? It was a damned good deal, an incredible deal. Most scientists would sell their souls for such an opportunity. And that is obviously what it was, a deal to keep her from snooping around on her own and finding embarrassing dirt on the Corporation over the next two months while helping Weltman.

"I couldn't tell anything I find out even to Weltman for those two months?" she asked.

"Correct."

Weltman snickered. "Then what has this got to do with solving our missing people problem?"

Keto shrugged again. "I'm not at liberty to say, but I couldn't make any promises that there is any connection at all. Frankly, our scientists haven't made much direct progress in the missing person area. However, there are a lot of very important scientific findings that you would have access to, Kate. Incredible things. Things you could hardly begin to imagine."

Kate's head was spinning. "I just don't know, Governor. Why don't we discuss this after I've returned from New Saint?"

Keto shook his head. "Helmins wants it to happen now. If you go with Weltman to New Saint, the deal is off. Do you want to be working with dozens of top Corporation scientists, or do you want to go off on this wild goose chase with Weltman? You can't have it both ways. Work with Helmins or work with Weltman and Lambert. You talked with Frank Lambert today; did he tell you that the world is ending? The man is a loon."

"A drunken loon," corrected Weltman, "but he's still worth ten of you or Helmins. Well, Kate? What will it be?"

Kate sighed. "Governor, I came here to help Weltman; that's my assignment from the Directorate. I don't see how I can do that unless I go with him now. Regrettably, I have to refuse this offer."

Weltman smiled.

Keto looked genuinely surprised; the last visages of his smile disappeared, but then he simply shrugged. Kate expected an argument, but didn't get one. "It's your funeral," is all that the Governor said, before turning on his heal, getting into his vehicle and driving away.

As they finished packing, Weltman provided an explanation. "Keto probably didn't push it further because he figures we won't survive this little trip. So he ain't very worried about either one of us making further trouble. He'll take some heat from your death, but it will be said to be all due to my recklessness, and we'll both be out of the Corporation's hair."

"Great."

"Got other questions before we take off?"

"One practical one. How much flight-time have you logged with this thing?"

"Half an hour once. It seems to work. We had similar rigs before this one during the first year, but the birds quickly destroyed them all. Raptors attack them on sight."

"Super. This gets better and better. In that case, what the hell is a glide suit?"

"We use them instead of parachutes. Normal parachutes are too easy for birds to get at and foul up. These suits provide a sort of webbing that stretches between your arms and legs to sort of give you little wings. You land hard, but usually live."

"Usually. Well, that's very comforting. Sort of like bat wings?"

"Right. On Earth they use them to maneuver while sky diving. On Aves the atmosphere is so thick you don't even need a chute. You can even maneuver in them, if you're good at it, and try to evade whatever is attacking you. Only problem is, you can't very easily shoot and glide at the same time."

"Shoot?"

He reached into the storage bin, pulled out some kind of short barreled rifle and handed it to her. She held it gingerly, afraid that the damn thing would go off in her hands and kill somebody. "In addition to being co-pilot and observer, you're going to be the tail-gunner. Ever shoot a gun?"

She shook her head. "I've never even seen one in person before coming to Aves. They're totally banned on Mars."

"Sure, with windowed habitats like they have on Mars, guns had to be banned. That gun is the easiest one to use. It's an old-fashioned scattergun that holds a ten-shot clip. It shoots a cloud of tiny pellets that at close range can take out almost any bird. But aim for the solid parts of a wing. Wound it almost anywhere else and it can still fly and come after you. If you can't get a vulnerable part of the wing and the bird is really close, go for the eyes. Just be careful not to shoot me up or shoot apart the damn airplane." He proceeded to show her how to load, aim and shoot the scattergun, although they didn't fire any practice shots.

In the meantime Tiny returned carrying two bright-orange colored outfits and handed them to John and Kate. Kate repacked the gun in the storage bin and turned her attention to the strange clothing. It was surprisingly light and had a slick, plastic feel to it. Unfolding it, she quickly realized that it was a single-piece, full-body outfit that zipped up the front. Similar yellow tinted translucent fabric stretched between the arms and legs. Weltman already had his shoes off and was removing his shirt. "You ever use a glide suit?" Tiny asked.

"No, of course not. On Mars you'd fall like a rock in one of these. And I'm not really anxious to wear one now."

"This suit also keeps the wind off your skin and serves as light body armor," explained the big man. "It wicks sweat and isn't at hot to wear as you might think. It's pretty much bug proof and it would take a tough bird to rip through this material; it's the same stuff we used for the scooter wings. Besides, it isn't hard to glide. You spread out your arms and legs, pulling the fabric tight on each side. Sort of like swimming in air. Put your arms and legs way back so that the wings are in back of you and you glide face-down. Try to land in a clearing and on your feet though, or you'll bust your head to mush, even with a helmet."

"How do I land on my feet if I'm flying head-first?"

"OK, I guess that's a little tricky for a non-pilot," admitted Tiny. "On Earth there are vertical wind tunnels where people practice up for sky-diving. You sort of pull up at the last second, pointing your head and arms forward and up, and you just sort of rotate and find your feet pointing down and hitting the ground. Practice a couple times in mid-flight to get the hang of it."

"Swell." It sounded totally suicidal. No way could she do fancy maneuvers like that, but she started to pull on the suit anyway. Hopefully it wouldn't be needed.

"Sometimes Doc, folks are more comfortable if they take off all their other clothes first," suggested Tiny, grinning at her wide-eyed.

Kate smiled back at the big man as she pulled the suit over her jeans and t-shirt. "Too bad I'm going then, Tiny, and not you. I'd have liked seeing a big strong man like you strip down." The deputy had sized her up perfectly, her suit fit her snugly, but not too tight.

Tiny laughed while handing her a helmet. "Yeah, too bad Doc. Maybe next time. And don't you worry. There ain't been no bird attacks in two years that we know of, and you'll be flying with the best damn pilot there is, so you won't be needing a glide suit anyway."

Weltman put on his helmet and climbed onto the front seat. "There haven't been any recent bird attacks that we've been able to prove, but that's about to change. We'll track down the sneaky bastards from the air, and solve this thing once and for all. Climb aboard Kate, and strap in good. Could be a bit bumpy at first."

She straddled the seat and Tiny helped her strap in. "This thing doesn't look very sturdy," she remarked. She glanced down at her feet. Centimeters below them thin fabric stretched. If a foot slipped off the footrest it looked like it would go right through the bottom of the airplane.

"Sure it's sturdy," said Tiny. "Me and the Boss built it ourselves." He laughed at the face she made. Then, to Kate's surprise, he rolled out transparent fabric from the forward compartment that pulled back over the passengers and snapped to the outside frame, forming a flimsy looking but more streamlined passenger cabin. When the big man stepped away from the scooter, its engine sputtered to life. It wasn't nearly as loud as Kate feared it would be, but she was still thankful that the helmet muzzled most of the noise.

"Ready for take-off," said Weltman's voice, from inside her helmet. "You'll find helmet voice controls above your left ear. Oh, and Tiny put some water and sandwiches in that little compartment to your left. That will be your lunch, I'm afraid." The engine wined slightly louder and the scooter started to roll forward slowly on its three bicycle-like wheels, bumping along a dirt path that let straight towards the open fields of crops that lay behind the sheriff's office.

"Want me to get out and push?" she shouted.

"Just keep your feet from dragging, please, and I'll do the rest."

The engine suddenly roared to full power, and the scooter immediately lurched down the path and accelerated, rattling and bumping so violently that Kate feared that the contrivance would tear itself apart. It took all her strength to hold on well enough to avoid being thrashed by the jolting scooter frame to each side of her. Glancing up at the delta-shaped wings overhead she could see them billowing out in the thick air, pulling up on craft ever harder. They seemed impossibly small for the task, but with the thick Aves atmosphere and lower than Earth gravity, wings didn't need to be very large.

The scooter was suddenly not bumping around as much, but instead seemed to be yanked violently in several directions at once. Kate looked down and was astonished to see that they were already airborne, though still only a meter or two above the broad cornfield. Through the transparent skin of the plane she could see birds in the field scatter to each side from their path, squawking and staring up wide-eyed at the plane. They seemed to be as surprised as she was that it worked.

Even though they were only a few dozen meters above the field, Kate was already having second thoughts about her insistence that she fly with Weltman. What was she thinking? This was worse than being in an anti-gravity elevator, far worse! A thousand things could go wrong and cause the airplane to plunge her and Weltman to their deaths.

A flying beetle the size of her head plopped onto the rigid cockpit windshield in front of John but slid off the hard surface and onto the overhead fabric. Even with its sharp, powerful mandibles it was unable to gain purchase on the tough, fine-woven fabric, and it slid rapidly over their heads and towards the rear propellers. Kate turned quickly to see if would cause problems and was relieved to see it slide harmlessly over the porous canopy that housed the propellers before disappearing behind it.

Kate's attention was soon drawn to the vista that rapidly opened up around and below her as they gained altitude. Behind them was the town and spaceport. She picked out the science building, gigantic lumber yards, a biochemical plant and in the far distance, a rocky outcropping riddled by roads that had to be the colony's source for rock materials. In every other direction for several kilometers green fields of human-sown crops stretched, attended by thousands of birds scattered throughout. In the far distance giant trees loomed, but as the plane climbed still higher Kate could see that this was merely a narrow strip of forest, beyond which stretched another broad green cultivated field. It was an incredible sight. Her fear of heights abated, to a degree, as time passed and she continued to focus on Aves instead of her mortality.

As they climbed still higher, she noted that what she saw within the nearest few kilometers was part of a larger pattern of fields and thin strips of forest that stretched many tens of kilometers in all directions. Of human structures only roads and additional enormous lumber-yards could be distinguished. Behind them and already fading from view through the haze of the thick Aves atmosphere was the town, and beyond that stretched the spaceport, where hundreds of gigantic spacecraft, some looming taller than even the trees, gathered in rows in preparation to carry away the bounty of Aves. She could see birds flying far below, and felt relieved that the airplane was apparently flying above their range.

"It's magnificent," said Kate, not sure if her intercom unit was on or not. "Are we above the bird danger now?"

Weltman's voice replied to her clearly via the helmet speakers. "It is a beautiful place, even where we humans have screwed with it," he agreed. "As for birds, look above us and to our left." Weltman pointed with a wicked looking short-barreled shotgun that he held with one hand as he flew with the other.

Kate looked to here he pointed and was startled to see a big dark shadow flying perhaps fifty meters from the plane, apparently matching the plane's progress with minimal effort, its wings pumping slowly.

"Grackle," said Weltman. "That's our old friend Blackie, or one like him. Been following us since we took off. I've gotten damn popular with them. They've been following me non-stop for a couple of days now."

****

CHAPTER 12

A NEW QUEST

Blue and the creeper flew wearily towards the next thicket to continue their seemingly endless search for Strike True and the Council. It was the second day of Blue's slow, stealthy search and time was growing short. Though it was late in the day, the twin suns still rained enough energy down to make it stiflingly hot, even within the shady forest. In the summer birds normally rested frequently during the heat of the day, but there would be no rest for Blue and Brownie. There were still thousands of thickets to search.

The search was agonizingly slow. Normally, any birds in an area could be easily located through use of song, but Blue and the hiding songbirds were fearfully silent now as they tried to avoid the attention of the Black Flock that patrolled relentlessly overhead. Without open use of song the task seemed hopeless. The forest was eerily silent. Only the occasional harsh cries of blackbirds could be heard above the sound of leaves fluttering in the gentle summer breeze and the buzzing of flying crawlers that were busily devouring the dead.

Blue and Brownie found many living but terrified songbirds in the thickets they visited, and far too many wounded or dead birds. Death was a natural part of Blue's world, and he had seen it many times, but never anything like this. Death normally happened because of old age, sickness, disease, hunger, predator, careless accident, or natural disaster. It usually happened to one bird at a time. It was understandable when it occurred, perhaps even reasonable. This holocaust was mindless, senseless, wasteful and disgusting. Many hundreds of birds had died, many of them jays. The fact that there were more dead blackbirds than dead jays was little consolation.

Blue examined each dead jay he found with growing dread, fearing that he would discover the remains of one of his close friends or of his father Strike True. He was upset when even without their song he did recognize several lifeless members of Strike True's flock, including two jays that he had numbered as close friends. But there was no sign of Strike True.

They encountered no living jays. However, from snippets of information obtained from the hiding songbirds, Blue gradually pieced together what had happened. Large flocks of blackbirds had quietly and unhindered approached the Council from the south had attacked without warning. The ensuing battle between the Strike True's jay flock and the Black Flock was fierce and fairly even until additional, greater blackbird flocks arrived.

At that point the jays retreated south, while advising other songbirds to hide. Most birds the Blue encountered reasoned that they should be safe, as the jays and Council members seemed to be the primary targets. On the other hand, they also correctly reasoned that the Black Flock had no idea which songbirds were Council members, and were probably killing every bird in the area to make sure that the Council was destroyed.

There were many reports that jays in particular were targeted by the blackbirds. That made grim sense to Blue. Since the jays would provide the strongest and most organized resistance, it was only natural that the Black Flock would specifically target them first. With destruction of the Council and defeat of the jays, Song Wood would be conquered, and organized resistance from songbirds anywhere in this part of the World would become much less likely. News of the disaster would travel throughout the World, striking terror in the hearts of all songbirds.

The fate of Strike True and what remained of his flock was unknown. Several songbirds reported seeing lone jay scouts since the attack, so Blue reasoned that finding other jays was simply a matter of time. However, although Blue originally had assumed that he would find Strike True and the Council before his rendezvous with the falcons, hope of finding them was fast waning. He and Brownie were already working their way back towards Red Claw's den for their planned rendezvous, without having found a single surviving jay or Council member. Encountering blackbirds was much more likely. Blue had already twice crossed the paths of lone grackles and managed to kill them swiftly, before they could raise an alarm.

As Blue and Brownie landed inside the next thicket, a commotion arose deep in the woods behind them. Several grackles and crows could be heard, raising a ruckus. Among the strident blackbird squawking, Blue clearly heard the rallying cries of a jay, fighting for its life.

"Stay here in this thicket Brownie, and rest," he told the creeper. "I'll come back for you soon."

"Brownie stay here," agreed the creeper. The little bird seemed not at all displeased with the prospect of resting, foraging for food, and preening.

Blue flew swift and low towards the increasingly loud sounds of escalating battle. The fighting was moving towards him, and Blue closed upon the participants quickly. Abruptly in the clearing just ahead, he saw a lone jay and a small brown bird fleeing half a dozen noisy blackbirds. The brown bird was a creeper, Blue realized. The jay flew skillfully behind the tiny brown bird, alternately intercepting each of two grackles that tried to attack the creeper, driving them back again and again. Four big crows awkwardly trailed them, calling to them with their noisy cawing.

"It is the Blue Death, we have found him and the brown bird," Blue heard the crows squawking. The crows had mistaken these unfortunate fugitives for himself and Brownie. A very stupid error, Blue realized, since the fleeing jay was obviously female.

"KEEEEEE" cried Blue, once again imitating the red tailed hawk's harsh cry as he flew into battle. He pecked the eye from a startled grackle as he flew past it and in another moment had scattered the crows before wheeling to follow the jay and creeper. Taking advantage of being one-on-one with the second grackle, the female jay skillfully struck a crippling blow to its wing, sending it spiraling to the ground.

"Yaw, yaw," Blue introduced himself as he joined the fleeing pair, using subtle sub frequencies that the crows would not understand to tell her both his name and that he sought Strike True.

"Follow us," she sang in reply, as she took up position behind the fleeing creeper again. She was Fly Free of South Meadow Flock, and though three seasons Blue's junior, she flew with great skill behind the darting little creeper as it negotiated its way through the trees. The crows, without the aid of the more maneuverable grackles, were forced to fly considerably above them, where they noisily called for reinforcements.

The little creeper flew straight to Brownie's thicket and landed next to him, where the two creepers exchanged song excitedly. Meanwhile Blue and Fly Free perched in the bush above them and sized each other up.

Fly Free was well above average in size and feather tone, Blue noticed, as she sang to him. Her very name was intriguing. "Well flown," she sang. "You two are the ones that the black ones seek, are you not?" Blue liked the clear bright tones of her song and found her strikingly attractive.

"Yes. It is important that we find the Great Council, if it exists, and its jay member, flock leader Strike True."

"Of the Council I know not, but our flock received song of the blackbird attack at Song Wood and gathers with other area jay flocks to counter attack their spreading blight. We heard also that jays have retreated to this very thicket. Several of us set out to investigate this song, traveling individually by different routes to better gather information, but on the way I encountered a fleeing creeper. It is sung that the blackbirds seek out all brown creepers as well as jays, and kill them on sight. This I could not let happen." She cocked her head towards the creepers, who were still merrily chattering away together with subdued song.

"You did well," said Blue. She had much spirit for such a young jay, he reflected. Her spirit well matched her provocative name.

"I merely did my duty under the Pact. You however, have long been on a strange quest. Is it true also that you are a song master?" Softly she sang a brief complex song that indicated that she too was a far more talented songster than most jays. Deep within her song she also indicated that she had no pair partner.

Blue softly answered a brief response her that expanded upon the themes of her song. He was astonished. He hadn't ever encountered another jay that was so well versed in song! Perhaps that is why his response to her included indications that he too had no pair partner, but was very interested in gaining one.

Fly Free switched back to plain song. "It is sung also that death flies with you in the form of the Black Flock. These are all strange things, Blue Dawn Jay. Can you sing of them further?"

"Sing of them to me also," sang a familiar voice. Blue knew who it was before he turned to see him standing tall and proud, older but nearly a mirror image of himself. Strike True had arrived on silent wing, as often was his way, and perched only a few wing lengths from his son.

"Father!" sang Blue, squawking in delight. He hopped up to perch beside the flock leader, pecking him playfully on the head and getting pecked still more soundly in return.

"We must all soon sing of what is happening, but first we need flee from this thicket," ordered Strike True. "The crows above will soon bring others, and we are not yet ready to openly oppose them, as we have painfully learned. For now we will quietly flee this place before they are too many. Follow me."

Strike True dropped to the ground and hopped deeper into the thicket, followed by Blue, Fly Free, and the creepers. As they went, Blue noticed that Strike True favored his left leg, and that there were signs of dried blood in his feathers that had been only partly preened away. Blue hadn't even thought of it until that moment, but he realized that he was of similar appearance himself, including a limp.

Shortly they arrived at a gathering of more than three dozen birds in the center of the thicket. Nearly half were jays, Blue noted happily, while the others were a great mixture of mature songbirds. Like Strike True, they all looked like they had been through a terrible battle. They all turned to gaze at the new arrivals.

Blue sized up the group of songbirds. There were several types of woodpeckers and a wood thrush, brown thresher, bluebird, nuthatch, swallow, titmouse, chickadee, and goldfinch. There was even a pair of colorfully exotic parrots that hailed from distant jungles of the far-side of the World. It was the Great Council of Songbirds, or at least much of it! Against enormous odds, Strike True and his flock had managed to save the Council! Blue was so overjoyed that he nearly burst into spontaneous song.

"Before we again flee, what news of Song Flame?" asked Strike True.

"He sings and flies free in endless skies," chirped Blue sadly.

A discordant murmur swept the gathering.

"Though mortally wounded and dying, he bravely died on the wing while singing his last breath, to save the lives of this brown creeper and myself."

"That part at least is well, Blue Dawn," said Strike True. "Now we flee this place."

"I have not time to explain," said Blue, "but if possible we should flee north-east, at least for tonight."

"It will be done," agreed Strike True, without even asking for an explanation.

"Hop and I would stay to create a diversion," said one of the jays. Blue recognized Smooth Wing and Hop, two of his father's best fighting jays.

"It is well," agreed Strike True. "They will be expecting to find at least two jays, so let them find you two here, but make sure that you then escape them. We have lost too many fine jays already."

"We will show ourselves and lead them away as you flee, before evading them," said Hop, "but not before we send more of them to endless skies."

Smooth Wing and Hop flew up and south, drawing away and then attacking the crows that were calling out the alarm. It seemed to work; Blue could hear the other approaching blackbirds divert towards the fracas, which moved further away through the forest, following the fighting, fleeing jays.

Led by Strike True, the others left the thicket on foot at first, and then on the wing, low and slow. As they went, Blue could not help thinking again of what a wonderful name Fly Free was, or keep from looking at her and noting what a handsome female she was. He noticed that she often looked his way also, and he found himself wishing that he was better preened.

When they were perhaps half way to Red Claw's den, Strike True halted the group and the Council held an impromptu meeting, with Blue as key witness.

Before the astonished group Blue told his story quickly but thoroughly. It was by far the strangest story sung since the founding of the Council. The Old Ones returned? Blackbirds destroying the Balance? The Talon Council needed songbird help to fight a war against the Black Flock?

Predictably, the Council's reaction was confusion and uncertainty. "I do not understand any of this," sang the goldfinch. "Personally, I joined the Council to promote free song exchange. None other in my area of the forest was interested in joining the Council, so I was easily approved. Now we have been attacked and are fugitives, and that itself is far too strange for me to comprehend. Being allies with raptors and the Old Ones returning, those concepts are too strange to even imagine."

Many other Council members nodded in agreement.

"You sing of going to war," said a woodpecker. "Now war is something that we understand somewhat better, through the old songs, and now through our experience with the blackbirds. Even after many hundreds of generations, the chaos before the time of Law and the Great Balance is still remembered. We all learned as chicks that war was the worst part of that time of chaos, and that war should be avoided at all costs. So I for one sing that war is not needed now. This madness of the blackbirds will soon pass. They have basic needs like the rest of us, needs that will drive them naturally towards the wisdom of the Balance. In the fall at the latest, most of them will leave here and flock to the south and east for the winter like many of the rest of us, and the Balance will again shift into place. We need only quietly wait."

A few of the other birds nodded in agreement.

"As for Old Ones," continued the woodpecker, "you have not even seen them yourself. We had already heard confused song of a strange new crawler in the Far South Forest, but that is very far away. Song can change over great distances. What the second bird sings to the third is often not what was sung by the first." Most of the Council birds nodded their agreement. Embellishment of stories was a valued art form among many birds.

"It is true that I have not myself seen the Old Ones," admitted Blue, "but I have talked to several birds that have, including the Great Council member Song Flame and the leader of the Talon Council. The raptors think that the strange crawlers are indeed the Old Ones. Song Flame saw them and told me they are the Old Ones. And this brown creeper has lived and sang with these Old Ones, who he calls humans. He is the key witness here, not I." With that, Blue pushed the nervous little creeper forward to testify.

"Well? Have you seen them, creeper?" asked Strike True.

"Brownie see humans, not know what is 'Old One' that you sing of," replied the creeper.

"Do these humans war with songbirds?" asked a woodpecker.

"No. Most humans ignore birds. Some humans help songbirds. Humans war with the forest, blackbirds war with songbirds."

"We have this day seen blackbirds war with songbirds, but how do humans war with the forest?" asked the woodpecker, who leaned forward with new interest. "Do they eat the trees in the manner of many crawlers?"

"No. Not eat of trees, except some fruit. They kill many trees; more than any can eat. They break dead trees into many pieces and take them far, far away. They build great ground nests with dead tree pieces. Other tree pieces sit to make great mountains, waiting to be carried away to the human world, far away. Most of the Far South Forest is gone. Maybe there will be no South Forest soon."

Birds gasped and shook. "Gone?" asked the woodpecker. "The great Far South Forest? How can that be?"

"Humans take. They cut down and kill nearly all trees. Most of that great forest is gone. The land there is giant meadows now, growing seed food for humans and blackbirds."

"I do not believe that such a thing is possible," said the woodpecker. "In my youth I quested to the Far South Forests, by freedom of flight. The South Wood is even denser than the North. Nothing could possibly destroy it. This creeper sings total nonsense."

"Perhaps," sang the wood thrush. "Yet it is certain that something is greatly amiss in the Far South Forest. For three seasons we have heard song of it, none of it making sense to us. Yet membership from the Far South Forest on this council has dwindled in the last three seasons. Note that now we have no members among us at all from the Far South Forest."

The birds looked around at each other. "That is true," sang the nuthatch. "None of this Council is from the Far South Forest. I cannot recall that such a thing has ever happened before. I also recall hearing strange stories from South Forest birds during migration, but like the ones you sing to us now, the stories were far too strange to understand or believe. Song Flame quested to discover the truth behind the stories."

The thrush continued in his rich singing voice. "We have turned away from such things as from a discordant note, and we have tried to sing the problem away. But it has not gone away."

"The discord has flown now to our own nesting places, birds of Council," sang Strike True. "It has the form of blackbirds and the testimony of Blue Dawn and this creeper. The Black Flock breaks Law and the Balance. We are forced to accept at least that much, as we have experienced it ourselves."

"But what is there to do about it?" asked the little bluebird. "Flocking to fight other birds would also break the Law. Thus to flock and fight a war against the blackbirds would itself go against the Balance. Can evil ever be defeated by more evil?"

A philosophical discussion followed, which grew in volume and irrelevance as it grew more heated. Blue Dawn feared that the patrolling blackbirds would hear. "Quiet," he squawked softly, breaking radically with Council protocol. "The blackbirds do not debate this; they attack and kill us. We songbirds must defend ourselves. The right of self-protection is the First Law."

"Well sung, young jay," sang the thresher. "And by the Pact jays provide protection to songbirds. I sing that the jays should flock from all the woods to better guard against the blackbirds. Not a war yet, but a great battle to drive away those that have attacked us. Do we all agree?"

All agreed.

Blue was only slightly encouraged, as he quickly realized that the Council had merely agreed to something that the jays were already doing themselves anyway. "That would begin to address the problem but it is not enough," sang Blue diplomatically. "In the Black Flock there are many young birds, many of them still brown colored juveniles. I suspect that the blackbirds have been over-breeding for at least three seasons to increase their numbers, and that their flocks far outnumber anything we jays could fight and defeat. More than just the jays must go to fight them. As the Talon Council says, all songbirds are needed for war. And we will have to coordinate our efforts with the raptors."

The group of birds visibly shivered and several squawked in fear. All songbirds fight a war? Fighting was the job of jays. Coordinate with raptors? Raptors were death on the wing. What Blue proposed was insane.

"Raptors saved my life," added Blue.

"So you have sung, young jay," chirped the goldfinch. "Strange and wonderful, an exciting song for the ages, but what does it mean?"

"It means that as all birds once flocked together to defeat the Old Ones and to form the Law and Council, all songbirds, including jays, must now for a time flock with raptors to restore the Balance," explained Blue.

The council members, clearly upset by Blue's radical suggestions, shivered and squawked. It was altogether too much to contemplate.

"With destruction of the Balance, the raptors also fear that the Scourge will return," added Blue.

The Council birds were stunned into silence at mere mention of the Scourge, and most bobbed their heads nervously. To even bring up the subject of the Scourge was far too disturbing. It was much too disturbing to sing about openly.

"This Council will decide what must be done, young jay," chirped the little nuthatch finally. "We have heard your testimony, now you should leave us so we can decide what to do."

Many Council members squawked in assent, and Blue and the creeper were prompted by the jay guard to move to another part of the thicket.

There Blue fed and preened as he waited anxiously for the Council to conclude. He could hear much chirping and squawking, though the members were too distant to be understood. It was nearly dusk and he would soon need to fly to Red Claw's den, whether or not the Council had made any decisions.

The jays except for Strike True were standing guard, including Fly Free. "Will you return to your flock?" Blue asked her.

"Yes, when I have learned what the Council has determined. Will you stay now with yours?"

"Not yet. I have one more obligation of my quest to fulfill, and I must leave soon to do it."

"Perhaps more than one obligation," sang Strike True, as he also joined them. "Though terrified and confused, the Council has decided several things, Blue Dawn. First, the jays will flock together and be ready to fight, but not the other songbirds. Not yet, anyway, though they will all be put on high alert and began to gather. Second, you and I will fly to Red Claw's den tonight to hold discussions with the raptors."

Blue felt many things. He felt relief that something was being done, pride that he has part of it, and happiness that he and his father would be doing something together. But it was not yet enough.

"I will then have the job of gathering and leading the jays and preparing for war, should war prove necessary," continued Strike True. "The jays shall gather here, than we will move on the heart of Song Wood, driving the Black Flock from the Council Tree, so that all songbirds may see that their Council endures. We have approval to do that much, at least. Fly Free, I ask that you go now, and spread word to your flock of this, and that they spread it to other jay flocks, far and wide. Jays in the thousands are needed."

"I will do so," pledged Fly Free. Her eyes lingered for a moment on Blue before she hopped away, the flock leader noted.

Strike True led his son a few hops away from the others so they could sing alone. "She fancies you, Blue," he sang, "and you her."

"We have only just met, Father."

"What has that to do with it? That has always been your problem, at least until now; too much thought and song and not enough jay flocking."

"So you have frequently told me. I admit to what you say but there is no time for such issues now. But at least now we will fight side by side, as you have always wanted," sang Blue.

"No my son, though I would be proud to do so. You have done well, but Council has now given you a more difficult and dangerous job, a quest unlike any other in memory or song. Before committing all songbirds to war, the Council wants to know more, and they want to sing long before they commit to shedding songbird blood by beak and claw."

"Am I then to further scout the situation?" asked Blue.

"That and more, after we visit your raptor friends. You are to witness for yourself what has been done to the Far South Forest, and you are to bring to the Council yet another witness for testimony, in addition to yourself."

"Who?"

"An Old One. The Council wants to sing directly with an Old One."

Blue was struck songless. He was to bring an Old One to Council?

Strike True led Blue and Brownie to Red Claw's den. Blue was not surprised that Strike True knew its location. After all, it was the business of local jays to know such things. He was surprised however, when the Flock leader exchanged familiar greetings with the huge owl. He had thought that Song Flame and himself were the only songbirds that had ever dared such intimacy with the great night raptor. There were clearly things that he didn't know about his own sire.

In Red Claw's den the meeting between the Council as represented by Strike True and the raptors as represented chiefly by Red Claw went swiftly and smoothly but accomplished little of additional substance, for the Council had already deferred the biggest pending decisions until Blue's return from his newly assigned quest.

Yes, the Council agreed that there was a crisis and that cooperation with raptors may be necessary, but no, it was uncertain as to exactly what should be done. The only exact actions agreed to by the Council were that Blue and Brownie would flee south to confirm the situation and obtain for the Council an Old One as witness, while Strike True would gather jay forces and liberate and protect a re-assembled Great Council.

The raptors agreed that Swift Wing and mate would carry information about what was happening to the Talon Council. It was also agreed that on their way to see Great Beak the powerful falcons would carry Blue and Brownie south to the edge of the area that the Old Ones occupied, and then, after visiting Great Beak, would return to the drop-off point to wait for the questing songbirds and the Old One that would visit the Great Council.

Having the swift falcons transport the songbirds most of the way south and then north again would be the only way that Blue could accomplish his quest quickly enough, for he must finish it within a week. That would leave only the following week for the songbirds to possibly prepare for war, as the Black Flock apparently planned to attack in less than two weeks.

The plan had far too many holes to suit Blue. "How do I find an Old One? How do I bring an Old One to the Council? What if the Old Ones simply want to kill us? After the falcons deposit me far south, how do I evade the Black Flock, which dominates the areas of the Old Ones?" Unfortunately, there were no answers, and it was time to rest.

Blue, Strike True, and Brownie spent the night in Red Claw's den with the falcons, while Red Claw again went out to hunt blackbirds. Sound sleep was not possible. Battle sounds could be heard throughout the forest as owls again waged war on the Black Flock. The owls were killing many, but the night raptors were far too few to drive the Black Flock from Song Wood, Blue knew.

At dawn, Blue woke to find that Red Claw had already returned and was preening, along with her guests. Strike True was preparing to return to the Council. This morning the jay leader looked less haggard but still weary; the task ahead of him of driving the Black Flock from Song Wood was no less a daunting one than Blue's quest, and Blue realized that neither one of them might survive the next few days and weeks.

"There is something else I must tell you, father," sang Blue. "There are two jays, Nod and Bob by name, who are flying to Song Wood to seek the Council. They have declared themselves to be of my flock by Freedom of Flight. Tell them that I give them leave to join your flock until I return. If I do not return, tell them that they may rejoin Scar's flock."

"You will return, Blue," stated Strike True. He cocked his head oddly. "The jay flock leader you sang of earlier, who helped in your quest, his name is Scar? Does he bear a scar above his right eye?"

"Yes. He said that he knew you long ago. He sends you his greetings, and told me to tell you that this business is important and that he is proud that you are a member of the Great Council."

Strike True shook his head as though stunned. "He sang that? Was he well, this bird Scar?"

"Yes, well in spirit and in good health. A strong, capable flock leader."

Strike True nodded his head again thoughtfully. "He is well and leads a flock. That is good."

"You remember him then? He sang that you might."

"As well I should. Remember him? We were hatchlings together, he and I. He is my sibling, and your uncle."

"Scar is my uncle? But he lives so far from Song Wood!"

"My fault, as much as his. We were very close when fledglings, the best of friends, but as we grew we became bitter rivals in many things, as your mother could tell you, if she were still alive. One flock could not hold all of our foolish pride, and we parted company angrily, long ago, he flying south and me north, with your mother. The scar he bears is from my own beak, much to my regret. It is good now to hear of him, very good, and I am very glad he is well. Sing him that, if you see him again."

"Enough song," interrupted Red Claw. "I have killed most of the blackbirds around my den. You must all leave now before they regroup. It is time to do more than sing, songbirds."

****

CHAPTER 13

SCOURGE

The flight to New Saint Louis took John and Kate nearly five hours. The tiny gasoline powered engine constantly strained to push the scooter through the heavy air at the slowest pace Kate had ever experienced in an aircraft. Because of the high density of the Aves atmosphere, the trip could also have been a turbulent one, Weltman told her. Thankfully, the weather was clear and calm, and the ride was surprisingly smooth.

Except when she hurriedly ate and drank her lunch, Kate held her COM unit in her hands the entire trip, recording her observations and using its digital zoom-focus to view things as through a telescope. She recorded in visual and infrared, both still and dynamic images. In addition to observations of the ground, she made several recordings of the grackle that shadowed them. The creature turned its head frequently to watch the airplane with big dark eyes, probably enjoying much better visual acuity than even the enhanced COM unit. By the time she returned to the Roc Bar, Kate would have several more cubes of data to examine.

This was data of a new type for her to study. From an altitude of several thousand meters she viewed from a radically different perspective the forests and the human cultivated areas of Aves. Viewed from Port City at ground level the forests that bordered the cultivated areas had loomed tall and of unknown depth. From the air she could see that the amount of land that remained forested was shockingly small, perhaps as little as ten percent. This had to be having an enormous impact on the ecosystem, she reasoned, even if many conservation measures were being practiced.

On the other hand, she saw thousands of birds in the fields, apparently participating in a symbiotic relationship with the humans. The birds ate the crawlers and a small portion of the crop itself, leaving most of it for the humans. The Corporation would doubtlessly argue that this was an idyllic merging of Aves and human interests, one that reduced the need for chemical and biological intervention, an approach that minimally impacted the local ecosphere. The birds that worked the fields certainly benefited from the arrangement; and for every human there were obviously many hundreds of birds.

The cultivated areas were each several square kilometers in size and rectangular shaped, intersected by roads that radiated out from the space port and scattered, smaller human towns. Very few dwellings were isolated from the towns.

The fields were various shades of green, depending on the particular crop, while the narrow strips of forest that bordered the cultivated areas were generally a rich, dark green. Compared with Mars and even old Earth, the sheer volume of living matter was staggering, even with most of the forest removed.

In a few of the fields there were scattered, barren brown patches of earth that she didn't understand. The areas were irregular, but with sharply defined edges. They appeared to be completely devoid of vegetation. "What are those bare brown areas?" she asked Weltman, over the sound of rushing wind.

"Don't know, exactly, but they spell trouble," he shouted back, not bothering to use the COM link. "There should be nothing but crops in every field, but there are scattered conspicuous bare patches. Got to be the work of birds or bugs, I suppose. You'll be seeing one close up soon, as that's what the missing men were investigating when they disappeared. Here's New Saint Louis coming up."

Kate looked ahead and to the right and saw at the intersection of several roads a tiny settlement of perhaps three-dozen residences, a pair of huge garages and several giant grain silos. One of the silos was still under construction. Two small streams joined at the center of the settlement, perhaps serving as counterparts for the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers on Earth, otherwise she had no idea why the tiny town might have been named after the old Earth city. The little plane began a sharp decent. Glancing up Kate saw the ever-present grackle follow them down, gliding effortlessly without having to even flap its wings.

Only a few hundred meters above the ground, they flew past a small landing strip and continued to fly north of the town. "The spot they disappeared from should be just up ahead," explained Weltman. "We'll survey it from the air first; get your COM ready to record."

A dozen or so vehicles were parked along the road ahead, several of them yellow security vehicles, and Kate could make out perhaps forty people scattered throughout the surrounding field, most of them arranged in irregular lines and walking about slowly, apparently looking for signs of the missing colonists and for clues. There were dozens of grackles in the area also, watching the humans.

What most captured Kate's attention however, was the astonishingly bare brown area near the road. At first glance, it looked like bulldozers had torn up several acres of wheat field. In zoom mode however, she saw no machinery tracks, only soil that was shaped into huge rounded mounds and folds. She recorded the strange spectacle using several COM scan modes. For several minutes John than spiraled the scooter around and away from the bare spot as Kate continued to record images. Finally they flew back towards the landing strip. "Make a quick copy of your scans for the Corporation cops, Kate," Weltman said, as they began their final decent. "And make an extra copy for us too, one that you hide really good someplace. Hide both the original and our copy right away."

The landing was surprisingly smooth, and the tiny plane was soon taxing up to a large hangar at one end. Through a hangar door she saw huge complex machines without wings: farming equipment, she soon realized. The building wasn't an aircraft hangar, it was a garage for farm machinery. Some of the machines were partly disassembled, she noticed, they were probably being assembled and serviced in preparation for the coming harvest efforts. As a couple of Corporation farm workers helped Kate and John out of the scooter, a big scowling man stepped from the shadows of the open hangar and marched towards the new arrivals. "I'm heading this investigation, Weltman," he announced. "I don't want you disturbing evidence."

Weltman smiled. "Is that why you have every available colonist marching around through the fields, making footprints and so-forth? Oh, by the way Kate, this is Zeke Thomas, head of Corporation Security on Aves. Thomas, this is Dr. Kate Deborg, Directorate scientist. She'll be helping me with my investigation."

Kate was still adjusting to being safe on the ground. She resisted an urge to drop down on the ground and kiss it. Instead she reached out to shake the Corporation cop's hand, but was ignored.

Thomas merely glanced at Kate and laughed. "I figured as much, and it doesn't change shit, Weltman. Stay the hell out of my way, both of you."

"I figured we'd all cooperate, Zeke, you know, put aside our differences," Weltman explained. "The goal is to find Mark and Ken, right?"

"That's high on my list. My list, not yours. Getting the hell home is high on yours." He glanced at the COM that Kate held. "I'm betting you took some observations when you flew over the site, girl, is that right?"

"That's right," said Kate. "And my name is Dr. Deborg," she added coldly.

"Your name is whatever the hell I want it to be. I want your COM memory cubes. Hand them over."

Kate didn't move.

"In the spirit of cooperation we can make you copies," said Weltman, winking at Kate without Thomas seeing.

"Fuck you Weltman; I want the originals and I want them right now."

"Then we'll make copies for ourselves," said Weltman, protesting angrily.

"I said now." He held out his hand to Kate.

Kate looked at Weltman, who nodded grimly. She opened the COM unit, pulled out the cube, and dropped the copy into Thomas's big hand. "For the record," she said coldly, "I'll be filing an official Directorate protest against your company, Mr. Thomas, for impeding an official Directorate investigation and impounding Directorate equipment. You're damn well personally going to be hauled to Earth and in front of a Space Directorate Board of Inquiry, I personally guarantee it."

Thomas smirked, but he was struck speechless for several seconds, and Kate thought that his sun darkened face paled just a little. "Fuck the Directorate," he said finally, spun on his heal, and marched away.

"I'll quote that in my report, ass-hole," declared Kate to his receding back, "and you can feel free to quote me."

John Weltman gave Kate a big smile. "Well played, Kate. He drew enough blood to satisfy his ego but I don't think we'll have any more trouble from him for now. Are you really going to file some kind of official charges?"

"No. Aves is under Corporation jurisdiction. But it never hurts to try to bluff a moron like him. What did he want our scans for anyway? I assume the Corporation has satellite scans of better resolution than we could possibly collect."

"No doubt they do. Zeke just wants to impede our investigation and to bug me. Or to put it in your terms, he's an ass-hole and likes showing it. He was probably never schooled beyond kindergarten, but he's Helmins' son-in-law and the old man trusts him." He motioned Kate to follow him into the deserted hangar. The people normally working in the hanger were probably out searching for the missing farmers, she realized. The hangar wasn't air conditioned, but it was still a tremendous relief simply to be out of the heat of the twin suns. John unfolded a meter-square portable view screen that he pulled from his pack and propped it up against a wall. "Did you do an infrared scan of the brown zone?"

"Sure." Kate linked her COM into the screen and within a few seconds they were staring at an infrared image of the mysterious barren area outside of New Saint Louis.

Weltman whistled. "Look at that temperature gradient!"

"Makes sense," said Kate. "Without plants to convert energy into plant biomass and evaporate water, the dark, bare soil is absorbing most of the radiation from the suns. The several degree temperature difference makes sense. The wheat-covered areas are somewhat cooler, while the soil temperature in the surrounding woods is even lower. The entire blown patch is downright hot. Oops. Except for this part of it." She pointed an area along one edge. "That's actually even cooler than the wheat covered area. Why would that be?"

"Let's get out of these glide suits and go see."

In minutes they had peeled off the glide suits and stored them in the scooter. John handed Kate a wide-brimmed visor and hooded poncho made of extraordinarily light material with a reflective metallic sheen to it. Kate had seen some of the other Aves people wearing them. "This is standard gear for field hands," he explained. "It will reflect away most of the heat and light from the suns. Take this too." He handed her a short-barreled rifle, tucked away in a fabric holster that was obviously to be worn around the waist. "Standard gear for us old timers that remember the bird wars." He dressed himself similarly, except that he wore two guns, a thick, short-barreled scattergun and a rifle. With backpacks full of food, ammunition, water, and other gear, they left the scooter and walked the hundred meters from the hangar into town.

A multi-wheeled yellow Corporation security vehicle was waiting for them. Out of it climbed a tall, thin, wiry, black skinned individual with a wide, teeth-filled smile. "Real good to see you, John," he said warmly, as he shook Weltman's hand vigorously before turning to Kate. "And this has got to be the infamous Dr Deborg. Damn! I heard she was a real looker and I heard right!" Still grinning, he shook her hand also.

Weltman laughed. "Forget it Frank, she's smart too. Kate, this toad is Lieutenant Frank Jackson, the REAL head of Aves Corporation Security as far as doing anything useful goes, and a sucker for any female between eighteen and eighty."

"Heck no, I ain't that particular! Hey, it's a new planet and we all got to do our best to populate it," Jackson explained, but then his smile disappeared. "On the other hand, somebody or something wants to depopulate it, that's for damn certain." He motioned them towards the vehicle. "Hop in and I'll take you guys the scene of the crime while I fill you in."

"Zeke has gone back to Port?" asked Weltman.

"Yeah, thank goodness. He just came out to see things for himself, get in our way, and hassle you a bit. He's headed back to Port where he'll doubtless set his lazy ass behind his fancy desk. You know Zeke. Now that he's gone we can all get back to actual work."

"Tell us what happened."

"Well, the townies say that they first noticed a disturbed area of wheat three days ago. The men started to stand guard out in the field. Mark and Ken had the morning shift today. When the afternoon shift showed up Mark and Ken where nowhere to be found, but the area of disturbed gound got bigger.."

"Did they try tracking footprints and so-forth before Zeke had you guys wondering all around the place?"

"First thing. Joe Felden followed their trail via IR imaging and DNA sniffer. The trail ended abruptly on the far edge of the disturbed area. They disappeared without a trace, just like the others.

"In the cooler area," interjected Kate.

"Right. Pretty sharp! You guys COMed that from the plane, right? Good work, but you're crazy as hell to fly. I never did trust these damn birds." Without looking, he pointed out of the car window at two grackles that were flying alongside.

"One followed us in from Port, Frank," John noted. "The other one must be yours. You get a promotion or something?"

Frank laughed. "Nope. I'm still just a lieutenant, but they've been following me for a couple weeks now. They must be up to something, like you and Captain Jack say, but I'll be damned if I know what it is."

"What caused the disturbed ground?" asked Kate. "Any ideas?"

"Lots of ideas, none of them worth shit," replied Frank. "What do you think, John?"

"I'm not sure anymore. We noticed some disturbances in the previous two years, but we were plowing and bulldozing most of the fields so much we didn't think it had anything to do with the disappearances. Now with the crops planted, the disturbed areas are obvious for the first time. My theory had always been birds rooting around, taking advantage of our digging. That didn't ever quite fit, since there doesn't ever seem to be bird sign, but what else could it possibly be?"

"Birds are still as good a theory as any," said Frank. "The other theory is that it's made by some kind of ground-borrowing insects or something. But wait until you get a closer look; it would have to be some damn big bugs."

They parked among the other vehicles at the site and got out, and the new arrivals got their first close look at the disturbed area. Over an area of at least ten acres, what was once a nearly flat wheat field now looked like a construction site gone haywire, with mounds several meters across and high, and troughs of soil several meters wide and deep and dozens of meters long. Several grackles hopped among the mounds and troughs, apparently also studying them.

"Damn!" exclaimed Kate.

"That's just what the farmers said, I imagine," said Frank. "This is only a fraction of a percent of the crops; so far it's no big deal in that regard, but what if it keeps spreading?"

John whistled and was clearly shocked. "This disturbance is much more radical than anything last year, or we would have noticed it. Look at the size of those mounds! It would take heavy earth-moving equipment hours to do all that; I don't see how even flocks of birds could possibly do it. Look, the mounds dwarf those grackles. There are much bigger birds of course, sea birds and even storks, in other parts of Aves, but we'd see them if they were here. Damn it, I just can't see how birds could have done this!"

"From the scooter we saw several other areas like this on the way here," said Kate.

"Right," nodded Frank. "They started appearing late last week, but the size of the mounds has been increasing every day, and the disturbed areas double daily in size. Maybe we had some of these last year, but the disturbances couldn't have been this bad, or like you say, we would have noticed. And of course there was only that one case that we know of two years ago, and the whole area was being bulldozed to make flat fields at that point." He glanced over to Weltman. "Sorry John."

Kate realized that Frank had to be referring to the disappearance of Weltman's wife.

The sheriff took a deep breath, and then continued. "So then, significant soil disturbance could have occurred in the case of every unexplained human disappearance. There has to be a connection." Out of habit, he scanned the sky. His hand suddenly went to his holstered shotgun. "Damn! Will you look at all the blackbirds!"

They all followed his gaze. Hundreds of grackles were circling lazily only a hundred meters above the cleared area.

"I don't like it," said John. "What are they doing here? Maybe it's them. Maybe they're getting ready to attack us!"

Frank shrugged. "Take it easy, John; they haven't ever attacked people, at least as far as we know."

John said nothing, but he kept one hand on his holstered shotgun and frequently glanced up at the circling birds.

They had walked right to the edge of the devastated area. Kate kicked a massive rounded mound of soil with her boot to no effect. The soil wasn't loose, it was solidly formed as though by a giant mold. "Are the mounds always formed like this?" she asked. "The mounds look like they've been formed by compressing soil into huge round molds of different sizes. Some molds were several meters across, some were less than a half of a meter across." She took off her backpack and pulled out a ceramic tube, scraped some of the compacted soil into it.

"Hard to say," said Weltman. "There may have been patterns in the soil similar to this last year, but they couldn't have been anywhere near this huge."

Kate placed the soil filled tube into a slot on her COM unit and made some keyset entries.

"You know," said Frank, "it looks like the mounds are the remains of compressed tubes of dirt, but the dirt looks changed to me." He climbed up the nearest mound and kicked at it hard with his foot. A small piece broke off and crumbled when it landed at the base of the mound. "It don't look as rich and black as where it ain't been disturbed. It looks sort of different, somehow. Too brown, not as black as regular soil. It's as if much of the living stuff is gone." Kate took soil samples from what Frank had kicked from the mound along with control samples from outside the mounded area, before being joined by John and Frank.

"My COM measures an 80% decrease in organic material for the mound samples," she announced. "What the hell? The remaining organic material is mostly dead. Live organics have been extracted and replaced by simpler compounds. It's like the soil has been processed. Digested."

"Shit!" exclaimed Frank.

"Exactly," said Kate. "Huge tubes of it."

The trio suddenly felt rather than heard a trembling in the Earth, like a sound too deep to hear. "What the hell was that?" asked John, as he pulled his short shotgun out. Overhead, hundreds of gathering grackles started screaming. "Earthquake?"

Somewhere nearby a woman screamed. Kate could see a dozen search party members standing a hundred meters away in a field on the other side of the disturbed area, shouting and looking around. Several of them had drawn their guns, but like Weltman, had no idea where to point them. Suddenly, as she watched, the ground heaved up beneath the group's feet, and most of them fell and dropped out of sight in the waist-tall wheat, as a bus-sized, dark mass pushed up from the ground in their midst. Some of the human screams were cut short.

Kate tried to make sense of what she was seeing. It rose two, ten, and finally twenty meters above the torn ground, a massive black/brown cylindrical unknown something, appearing for a few seconds like a shiny, smooth-barked tree trunk three meters in diameter, though it was rounded at the protruding end. An indeterminate number of barrel thick, short, stubby protrusions were visible on it thing also. Suddenly the entire length of the thing curved down sharply, and plunged down towards the field like a sounding whale, taking two more colonists with it. They were all thrown to their knees onto the bare brown earth when the creature rammed its front-end back into the ground with a sound like thunder that mixed with the sound of gunfire and screaming people and birds. Meanwhile more of it continued to emerge from the ground.

The damn thing was alive, Kate realized, it was a monstrous snake or worm! Standing next to her, Weltman drew the rifle from its holster and shot at the monster, while Frank shouted orders into his COM unit.

Had any of the far search party escaped? Kate looked but couldn't tell. A huge loop of the thing was still emerging steadily, exposing itself, and slipping back into the ground just as quickly. Finally the blunt tail-end of the creature slid up and then disappeared beneath the surface, trailing a rounded tube of soil behind it. It had to have been fifty meters long, at least! Other worm-creatures were emerging around the first one, most of them smaller, but a few monstrously larger. Kate looked around and saw that in nearly all directions big worms were emerging out of the fields, dozens and then hundreds of them!

Kate's concern for other searchers was soon forgotten as the earth under Frank, John, and herself began to contort wildly, pushed and pulled by unimaginable forces below them. Kate saw a three-meter diameter circle of wheat a few steps behind her suddenly sink down and disappear into the gaping mouth of an emerging, truck-sized head that had come up almost underneath them. The entire front end of the thing was an open mouth! John and Frank blazed away at this closest monster worm with their guns, but the head rose steadily until it was fifteen meters above them, where it was attacked by a half-dozen screaming grackles.

Appearing not to even notice humans, bullets or birds, the huge beast plunged down into the earth, meter after impossible meter of it burrowing downward again with relentless power. Smaller worms were dragging themselves along the surface, gulping down wheat and battling birds that attacked them furiously from above with beak and claw.

Grackles, starlings, cowbirds, sparrows, and a sprinkling of other small birds seemed driven mad at the sight of the worms; they attacked them with abandon from the air and on the ground. The smaller worms, some less than human in size, were torn apart by the birds, but the larger creatures struck back and sucked bird after screaming bird into cavernous worm mouths. The entire front end of each worm was a mouth, fringed and circled within by what appeared to be row upon row of fist-sized protuberances that must have served as teeth.

Kate suddenly realized that she had seen these worms before, or at least their smaller cousins. It was the worm-like thing she had ran her gene match on! These were native Aves creatures, not genetically altered imports from Earth!

Nearby worms lifted their heads and seemed to look around, though no eyes or other sensing organs were evident. Several moved towards the three humans in mass. He and Frank stood to either side of Kate, pumping lead into the advancing worms. "Shoot the smaller ones," she heard John shout. "Dodge the big ones; it's the only thing we can do!"

They came with mouths open, crawling on stubby legs and slithering on slimy bodies. Bullet after bullet passed right through them, producing oozing holes without much immediate effect, but gradually the creatures slowed down and collapsed, dying. However, it took too many gunshots to stop even the smallest worms. There were far too many of them to shoot, Kate realized, and the birds weren't attacking the worms that were attacking her and her two companions.

"Use your gun," John admonished Kate.

Before now she had been 'shooting' the worms with only her COM unit, and had not even touched her holstered scattergun. Now she quickly pulled it out and made up for lost time. Two nearby grackles attacking small worms near her retreated away when she drew out her gun, she noticed. The human trio killed several more of the smaller worms, blasting terrible bloody chunks from their grotesque, squirming bodies, but other, bigger worms kept coming, and they soon run out of ammunition. Kate knew that they had to try something else. "Put the guns down on the ground and back away from them quietly," she instructed.

John and Frank and looked at Kate, at their useless empty guns, then shrugged and complied. Kate especially made a big show of placing her gun on the ground as the trio backed further into the brown zone, away from the surging worms.

The response came in a matter of seconds. As more worms squirmed towards them, dozens of blackbirds dropped out of the sky, bills spearing and tearing at the monsters. The human trio moved further away from the field and into the brown zone, helping each other over giant brown mounds of soil, until deep in the mounds they found themselves to be away from the fighting and no longer pursued.

From a vantage point atop a large mound Kate took out her COM again and slowly swept it around, recording the worm/bird battle that still raged. Hundreds more birds arrived; dozens more worms erupted from the earth. Kate heard no more gunshots, but guns were mostly irrelevant anyway. Birds fought and died, though many more carried away huge chunks of worm flesh. Worms ate both birds and the dead of their own kind, sucking them into their huge cylindrical bodies.

The worms focused on the edges of the brown area, enlarging it, while generally avoiding revisiting areas they had previously covered. That made sense to Kate. They had no interest in areas they had already eaten.

After only a few more terrible minutes, the fighting stopped. A scattering of surviving birds remained flying above, but the worms were gone. The humans approached the newly devastated area cautiously, acutely aware that they were completely unarmed. They were shocked by what they discovered. The brown area had been expanded by dozens of acres. What had been wheat field only minutes earlier was a maze of monstrous rounded brown mounds of worm-digested soil.

Surprisingly, despite the carnage there were no dead or wounded birds or humans in sight; evidently the worms had consumed them. There were no dead worms in sight either; what the worms didn't take the birds did; hundreds of blackbirds and songbirds were still flying away from the scene carrying big chunks of worm-flesh. Most evidence quickly disappeared.

"That was quick thinking back there, Doc," said Frank. "Our guns were killing a few of the damn things, but keeping away the birds. If we hadn't run out of ammo and put down our guns to let the birds attack, we would have been over-run by those monsters." He shook his head sadly. "I guess now we know for sure what's been carrying our folks off. Hell, they must have got a couple dozen more people this time." He was standing atop a dirt mound, scanning the area. There were only a few survivors to be seen, most searchers had fallen victim to the sudden worm attack.

"I've seen those damn things lots of times before, up to a meter or two long," added a very shaken up John Weltman. He was sitting atop another mound, staring blankly at the newly decimated field. "To me it was just another creepy Aves thing."

"I gene sampled one of them that was only a couple of centimeters long," said Kate. "Unlike the birds and most of the plants I sampled, it's not of terrestrial origin."

"I don't give a damn where they're from," said John angrily, "and neither did Mary."

Mary. His wife; his lost love. Kate didn't know what to say.

Weltman slid off the mound and began pacing in circles. "It was the God damn worms, all the time! Why didn't I realize what it was? I could have warned her! I could have stopped her!"

"And keep her from her work?" Kate countered. "Based on what? That early on you couldn't have known it was the worms, and even if you suspected, you couldn't have had proof. And you couldn't have stopped her; she wouldn't let you."

Weltman looked at her as if he just noticed she was there. "Kate, what are you talking about? You didn't even know her!"

"No, but I know you, John Weltman. If you married her she must have had enough going for her to not be stopped by anything you could say about it. I mean, you couldn't have stopped me, either, if I wanted to do my work."

Weltman was speechless, and his shoulders slumped as the rage seemed to slowly drain from him.

"Well? Am I right?" she asked quietly.

"Maybe. Maybe you are."

"So OK," said Frank, "now that we do know about them, how the hell are we going to stop them?"

"First things first," replied Weltman. "Let's search for survivors and get them back to town before those things attack again."

After twenty minutes of frantic searching it appeared that all survivors that would be found quickly had been found. People had either escaped the attack with only minor injuries or were gone completely. Shocked survivors of the small community helped Weltman compile a list of names of the missing. Twenty-five people were unaccounted for. Kate didn't recognize any of the names, but it was obvious that Weltman and Jackson knew several of them. The stunned survivors were in mourning.

"Frank, why don't you get a planet-wide warning out, and Kate and I will go get the plane and scan from the air," announced Weltman. "There could still be injured people that need help hidden in the mounds or in the crops. Frank, if you can stay here in case we spot someone, we'll vector you in to recover them."

Frank Jackson nodded in agreement as John and Kate walked with him back to the Corporation car. When they got to the vehicles they were in for another shock. Among worm mounds, they found their yellow Corporation car and several others smashed and overturned.

"At least they don't eat cars, just bang them up some," said John.

"Not yet, anyway," said Kate. "The new mounds are bigger than ever, suggesting ever bigger worms. If they get even bigger, who knows what they might munch on?"

They hitched a ride to town with a badly shaken farmer whose vehicle had weathered the attack. "They got my son," he told them, in tears. "Swallowed him up right next to me and there wasn't a damn thing I could do." Kate was glad when they reached the airfield and she had something to do besides listen to the grief-stricken farmer and something to think about besides the monster worms and the carnage that she had just witnessed.

Tiny met them at the hangar. He must have driven the tram like a madman to get there so quickly. The big deputy helped his sheriff refuel the plane as they talked. "I got the giant worm story by COM, Boss. Helmins is talking about moving up the harvest."

Weltman's jaw dropped. "He's what?"

"Most crops can be chemically ripened in days. He figures to finish the whole harvest within a week or two, before worms take it all. The crop will be reduced by at least another ten percent, and lose its organic rating, but most of it will be saved."

"He wants to put farmers with harvesting equipment in the fields with those monsters?"

"Nights and early mornings, with Corporation security forces guarding them. Word is, the worms only attack in the heat of late morning or afternoon."

Weltman shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. What do you think, Kate?"

Kate had loaded a fresh data cube into her COM and was busily pulling her flight suit on. "Much too soon to say, John. We only discovered these creatures today."

Weltman nodded as he started putting his own flight suit on. "I agree. It's too big a risk. We need to find out more about the worms first, but I don't see how folks would go for this plan anyway. Don't they know what happened out here? How would security forces make a difference? Our weapons were almost useless. We lost 25 people today, dead and gone, in addition to the first two. Eaten in front of our eyes in a matter of minutes, damn it! Shit, Joe Barns was one of them, Tiny, Joe Barns! And Sylvia Fremont and her son Joey! People that have lived here for years!"

Tiny's jaw dropped. "We lost 25 more people? The broadcast report said that several people were injured, and that Corporation security forces quickly drove the worms away."

Weltman climbed aboard the plane and motioned Kate to do the same. "That's grade-A Corporation bull-shit, Tiny. More likely the worms had enough to eat for now and dove back under the surface to digest their victims in peace. The birds were much more effective against the worms than guns but even they had no chance against the biggest monsters.

"Kate and I will deal with getting out the true story when we get back to Space Port City, Tiny. We have a search for survivors to complete before dark first. Tomorrow we'll fly south and have it out with the Corporation. In the meantime, I want you to help Frank keep all civilians away from the scene and from other fields for as long as you can."

"Sure thing Boss. Hey, let me give you a hand with that." The big man easily pushed the airplane out of the hangar, and pointed its nose into the wind. The scooter motor started easily for Weltman, and after a few seconds of warm-up he and Kate were soon airborne once again. Kate was still frightened of heights, but she actually felt safer in this instance to be airborne and out of reach of any monster worms.

As they soared into the air Kate took note that she and John were still being shadowed by a grackle, despite the disturbing worm attack. However watching for worms took precedence over everything else for most of the blackbirds; dozens of them still circled lazily above the brown area, apparently waiting for the leviathans to return. Why? Many birds had lost their lives in the counterattack. Were they defending the humans, or the crops, or was there some other motive behind their aggressive anti-worm behavior? Kate had no idea.

From above, the increased size of the attacked area was shockingly apparent. The brown area of worm-formed, mounded soil had at least doubled, and the newly tilled sections registered slightly cooler than the sun baked surroundings, due to the soil mixing effect so recently accomplished by the worms. After a few hours of sunshine however, Kate realized that disturbed areas would be sunbaked and hotter than ever, possibly stimulating more worm growth, emergence, and attacks.

As John skillfully circled, Kate swept the tilled area and the surrounding fields carefully, looking for human-produced infrared heat signatures. She found none, except for Frank and two of his men. As they had surmised from the ground, people had either escaped or were gone completely, consumed by the ravenous leviathans of the deep Aves soil. Grimly, Weltman COMed Frank that there was nobody left to rescue and turned the small craft towards Space Port City.

The flight to that point had been smooth, but soon the wind, pushed by darkening clouds that were sweeping in from the southwest, began to build. The highflying craft gradually lost groundspeed and began to buck and bounce. "Hell, Kate, I'm sorry," shouted Weltman. "I haven't paid enough attention to the weather, and now we're in for it bad."

Directly ahead of them a titanic black wall of clouds towered, lightning streaks dancing across its surface. Deep thunder shook the plane. Kate realized that she would finally witness her first summer rainstorm on Aves, possibly from inside the storm itself. Though still several kilometers away, it was bearing down on them with incredible speed.

Weltman turned the plane, intending to return to New Saint Louis. The wind both aided and opposed this endeavor, for although it enhanced their eastward progress it also tended to blow them off course and too far towards the north. Their blackbird escort still followed them, but needed to flap its wings strongly to do so.

The plane increasingly tossed and twisted, buffeted by ever more erratic winds; several times Kate would have been thrown from the plane if not for the seatbelt. A rash of huge amorphous droplets of water suddenly struck, pushing down on the craft and reminding Kate that raindrop size was huge on Aves, at least an ounce a drop. Lightning crashed to the right of them, a deafening tower of white flame unlike anything she had ever seen.

The storms of Aves' thick atmosphere dwarfed those of Earth, Kate soon realized. This storm was immeasurably greater than even the towering dust storms she had experienced on Mars. Terrified, she tightly gripped the plane's frame with both hands, though the tiny, flimsy aircraft seemed to offer little protection from the titanic power of the storm.

"We need to land now!" shouted Weltman. His words whipped past her, barely audible above the noise of thunder, wind, rain, and the shuddering scooter. The plane dropped ground-ward, but dimly through the falling sheets of water Kate saw that they had already been swept past the open fields and were now flying perilously close to forest treetops that whipped about wildly in the wind. "Hell," yelled Weltman as he pulled back on the controls at full throttle. The airplane seemed to hardly notice his efforts; it still languished awkwardly among huge thrashing treetops which threatened to swat the tiny craft as if it were a bothersome buzzing insect.

As he dodged around the animated crowns of huge trees, the aircraft slowly gained in altitude, though intermittent sheets of water threatened to batter it down again.

They slowly made headway, and the rain and turbulence gradually diminished as they climbed again above the trees and away from the storm. Weltman had changed strategy, Kate realized. They couldn't possibly land, not in this forest and this wind; they had no choice but to remain airborne, so he had turned the airplane to now travel with the wind and was using the fore-winds of the storm itself to race ahead of it. As they worked their way out of the pounding rain and regained more altitude, their ground speed was tripled by the fierce tailwind; they were soon flying north at a high rate of speed above a great virgin forest: an unknown wilderness far from human civilization. The flash of lightning and terrifying crash of thunder receded, but still chased behind them.

Things could be worse, Kate reasoned. They were still alive.

A quarter of an hour later, things did get worse. When a dark shadow glanced across the scooter, Kate looked up and saw a dozen blackbirds, flying high above them. The grackle that still followed the scooter broke away and rose towards them.

Kate had assumed that the high flying blackbirds were also grackles, but when their grackle reached them she realized that these birds were much larger. The wingspan of each of them was twice that of the grackle. Crows?

"Caw, caw, caw," they cried, confirming their identity, as they dove towards the plane.

****

CHAPTER 14

RESCUE

Strike True flew back to his flock while Blue was carried south by Swift Wing, tethered by vines that the raptor held with her strong talons. Mate to Swift Wing similarly carried Brownie. The little bird seemed more relaxed today, perhaps it was getting used to mad adventures such as this.

They flew hour after hour, souring high above the forest and lesser birds, while the falcons chattered on and on about catching this updraft or that one, or about what sort of prey-bird tasted best. They seemed to prefer to eat fat doves and great water birds instead of smaller songbirds, Blue was relieved to learn.

Blue remained silent as he worried about his new quest. Eventually the talkative falcons noticed this, and as the day slipped away towards evening the worried jay received much unsought advice from the great raptors. "You should go into this with a better attitude, prey bird," Swift Wing sang, "not all droopy feathered and sullen. Now, we raptors are always on a quest of sorts, flying flock-free. Perhaps as a jay you are not as accustomed to true Freedom of Flight, as you jays tend to flock and be plodding and controlled."

"Not to mention slow of wing and thought," added Mate to Swift Wing. "What fun would a quest be if you had every little thing about it planned out?"

"None at all, of course," answered Swift Wing. "A quest must thoroughly challenge the bird, body and spirit, like flying through a rain storm. Life worth living is always an adventure."

Blue wasn't comforted. If he failed in his quest he wouldn't simply be losing a meal or nesting place. The fate of all the songbirds of the World might depend on what he would accomplish over the next few days.

"Singing of rainstorms," said Mate to Swift Wing, "a storm approaches rapidly from the south and west.

Sure enough, in the distance, Blue could indeed see that in the south-western sky, stretching high above the forest, was an advancing wall of black boiling clouds, flickering with great bolts of lightning.

"Too high to fly over, my love," sang Mate to Swift Wing. "If we fly swiftly south yet east, we might yet both stay ahead of it and fly around it. If not, we will need land until it passes."

"We fly south and east then," decided Swift Wing, as the great bird changed course and beat its wings with new urgency. "More work this way, but much more interesting to try to out-fly it than to sit huddled wet in the rain like a helpless prey bird." Blue bent his own tail feathers, so that his body turned with that of the falcon towards the setting suns, remaining forward facing and streamlined.

As they flew, Blue watched the advancing storm with interest. Many times he had witnessed such storms, but never from a vantage point such as this. Bolt after bolt of lightning danced along the raging cloud-front, each flash followed by a bellowing roll of thunder that shook the air. The interval between flash and sound became shorter and shorter as the storm came closer, he noticed. Song Flame had spent an evening singing to him about this once, early in his apprenticeship, and now the old bird's explanation, which seemed incomprehensible at the time, seemed perfectly obvious to him. The sound of something moved fast, but slower than the sight of it. It was simple and obvious conclusion, once it was reasoned out, but he never would have thought of doing that before meeting the wise cardinal.

Now, when the old bird's cleverness and wisdom was needed most, he was gone. If he were here, Song Flame would calmly think his way through this quest somehow, Blue knew. Also the red bird would have very much enjoyed flying high and swift, and observing the spectacular storm they were skirting, without giving a thought to danger or possible failure. Every day of his life the old bird had been on a great quest of sorts, Blue realized, even when he stayed home in his nest. Studying ancient song, singing with raptors, or flying to the distant Far South Forest to investigate reports of Old Ones, the old bird carried out his fearless, selfless pursuit of knowledge, even while many of his fellow songbirds laughed at him. That was true Freedom of Flight, he reasoned, and true courage. Now he, Blue, must find the same sort of courage.

Ahead of them and closer to the storm Blue noticed something strange. Far below them something bright orange and yellow flew, and was also racing to stay ahead of the storm. The colors caught his attention, as there were no birds of that color that he knew of, and few that would fly through the dangerous winds that preceded such a storm, rather than simply landing and taking shelter. As he watched the strange object, he saw that a dozen other birds were converging on it. Blackbirds. "Your eyes are better than mine, Swift Wing, what is happening ahead and below?"

"Crows converge on something very odd indeed," replied Swift Wing. "It flies but is not shaped like a bird. I do not know what it is."

"You don't?"

"I believe that I heard raptors sing of seeing things such as this more than three years ago, love," volunteered Mate to Swift Wing. "I suspect it is a creature of the Old Ones, one of their flying things, alive yet not alive, but a very small and slow one. I see what must be two Old Ones riding in it."

"Old Ones here!" blurted Blue, astonished. They hadn't even reached the cleared areas yet, yet they had already encountered the mysterious humans! He stared at the object but could see only a few tiny bits of orange and yellow, parts of a larger, indistinct shape, all moving together. It was as long as it was wide, with odd, swept-back wings. As he watched, a larger, black shape, one of the crows, approached it. Carried on the wind he could hear the cries of the big blackbirds, though not well enough to make out what they were singing, but he could also hear a very strange sound, something like the swiftly beating wings of a flying crawler or a hummingbird. It must be the song of the flying thing of the humans, Blue realized, fascinated. "We must get closer."

Just then a sharp noise erupted from below, and the crow closest to the humans dropped away for a few moments, before launching itself at the flying thing with even greater vigor. "Bang, bang, bang," the strange noise happened again, and the crow dropped away towards the ground, screaming as it died. The other crows screamed also, in anger, and dove towards the flying thing.

"That noise is the killing sticks of the Old Ones, young jay," sang Swift Wing. "The Old Ones kill raptors on sight, and jays also. Now they kill attacking blackbirds. Let our enemies kill each other, if that is what they would do. We are close enough to see what happens, but should not interfere."

"Yaw, yaw, yaw," came the cry of attacking jays from far below, and Blue saw two tiny blue shapes rise from the forest, flying towards the crows, obviously intending to attack them.

From their cries, Blue immediately knew the identity of the attacking jays. Almost without thinking, he released his hold on the tethers held by the great raptor, and dropped swiftly towards the fray.

****

It came screaming at the plane from above and behind, straight towards Kate as she fumbled to put away her COM and retrieve her holstered weapon. Weltman glanced back at the swooping bird and shouted curses as he desperately worked the controls. The plane lurched clumsily down and sideways, but the creature easily compensated. In moments a half-meter long beak poked through torn wing fabric almost above Kate's head, even as her scattergun discharged, striking the bird's head a glancing blow but also enlarging the wing-hole with most of the pellets.

The bird squawked and dropped behind the plane, but Kate's relief was short-lived. Screaming, the enraged bird flapped strongly to catch up and renew the attack, this time focusing on the orange rudder at the tail-end of the scooter.

It was a good tactic for the bird to use, Kate realized with dismay; even minor rudder damage could bring the scooter down. She opened fire again with the scattergun, this time remembering advice from Weltman and focusing on hitting the base of a wing. However, the plane was bucking violently in the turbulent wind, such that most of her shots went wild. Finally, while firing during a brief moment of scooter stability, she was rewarded by the sight of the crippled bird dropping away, screaming shrilly. She had blasted away one of its eyes.

"Caw, caw, caw," screamed the others, who, far from being discouraged, seemed only further enraged by the loss of their flock-mate. With startling speed and precision, the remaining crows split up and completely surrounded the scooter, blocking any possible escape. Then while several blackbirds held their positions, several others came in at the scooter simultaneously, through a hail of gunfire from both Kate and John Weltman.

Again the guns were ineffective, but Kate heard a new harsh cry along with the cawing, and suddenly two of the closest crows disappeared in a tangle of black and blue. "Jays," yelled Weltman, "attacking the damn crows! What the hell!" Then they were both too busy firing again at the remaining attacking crows. They got off shot after shot, but despite the huge size of the creatures, hitting them in a vulnerable spot or even hitting them at all was almost impossible. The scooter and the birds were being tossed about like leaves in the turbulent wind, and it was hard enough to keep their seats in the scooter, let along take careful aim with a weapon.

The scooter shuttered as a crow wing struck a glancing blow near the front of the craft, and then immediately lurched again as another struck the rudder. The craft went into a steady downward spin. John, no longer firing his gun, wrestled with the controls to no avail. "Rudder's jammed, we're going down," John yelled. "We'll bail out and glide down together, Kate." He freed himself from his seat and half stood up, turning to Kate with an outstretched hand.

She holstered her gun and started fumbling with her seatbelt, her head suddenly filled with terrifying thoughts of falling through the air to be speared by tree limbs far below, if she wasn't first torn apart by giant black-feathered monsters.

A monstrous squawking crow appeared suddenly between the two humans, blacker than the storm, one huge, clawed foot clutching the frame next to each of them, throwing the plane into a more violent death spiral due to a thousand kilos of added mass and much added wind resistance, while a thick bill half a meter long struck down at John's head, striking only a glancing blow but knocking the man off of the plane completely. John slipped out of sight, screaming. A second crow dove after him.

Kate was also screaming as the big bird turned its attentions to her. To the astonished Kate, the big bird clearly squawked "we'll take the man alive, but you will die now, human," before drawing back its head for a killing blow.

Abruptly, the massive crow was yanked away from her, and its head was struck a bone-cracking blow by a big bird that grasped its shoulders. Kate gasped, for it was a huge jay, wild eyed and magnificent blue, white, gray, and black in color, much larger than the one in the Captain's museum and definitely very much alive. The stricken crow dropped away limply, while the jay was away immediately also, striking at another crow that had grasped the prow of the scooter in its talons. That crow too fell away, but still another moved to take its place, though for only a brief instant. An enormous raptor struck it suddenly from above, knocking it down and away. Kate had a glimpse of white chest and white and gray under-belly and wings, and huge angry raptor eyes set to either side of a cruel curved beak, and then it too was gone.

The aircraft spun down faster. The gigantic trees though still far below were much closer; Kate could see their top branches waving like wheat in a wind-swept field. There were huge drops of rain scattered in the wind, and lightning boomed all around them. Struggling in the twirling scooter, Kate finally managed to loosen her seatbelt and push away from the shattered wreckage. Then she was falling free separate from the tumbling plane, with the thick air pressing against her freely tumbling body.

Terminal velocity for a falling human body was a hundred kilometers an hour on Aves, not nearly as high as on Earth but more than enough to kill. Kate remembered to spread out her arms and legs to let the glide suit do its work, but the heavy air pushed so hard that her arms were bent back too far to properly catch the air; the 'wing' material was mostly just flapping about uselessly as she continued to tumble, while still falling much too fast, ever closer to a rising green tide of swirling trees.

More rain had arrived also, droplets large as golf balls and small as peas were falling alongside her, joining together into great irregular, baseball-sized globs before being broken up again by the heavy, turbulent air. Air swept past too violently for Kate to even catch a good breath, she couldn't even begin to scream, though she knew that in a few seconds, since she hadn't gotten the glide suit to work properly, she would hit the treetops violently and be torn to bits by wind driven branches made of super-strong wood and wind-whipped leaves the size of table-tops.

Immediately above her a bird screamed, then something powerful abruptly grasped both of her upper arms and she was yanked up violently, as great feathered wings beat the air around her a few times, then stopped. Looking about she found that she was suspended above the forest, already below the upper forest canopy but descending much slower. A giant bird held her; she looked up to see that its underside was mostly white and grey. At least it was not a crow; it was a huge jay that held her tightly as it glided forward and down through the gusty wet air. Numbly looking down, Kate realized she was still hundreds of meters above the ground and still dropping too fast for comfort.

"Yaw, yaw, yaw, wailed her jay with ear numbing loudness. Its cry was answered by another of its kind below and ahead of them. Her jay changed direction slightly, dodging between great swaying tree branches agilely as it continued to call back and forth with the other bird, while they homed in on each other's calls.

They swung abruptly into a small clearing, where Kate was startled to see a human shape below, encased in bright orange; it was John, lying on the ground motionless at the feet of two other jays while huge scattered rain droplets began to pelt them in the increasing wind. She was still coming down fairly fast, but the bird carrying her flapped powerfully when they were close to the ground, such that when Kate was abruptly released from the jay's grip her feet gently landed on soft forest moss after falling only a few inches.

Not so much from the physical impact as the emotional one, Kate collapsed face-first onto the thick green moss carpet. The spongy moss was softer than Earth grass and several inches thick; it was a perfect place to land, she realized. She turned over to see the gigantic jay standing over her, staring at her intently for a few moments before hopping a few meters away to stand over John. John was alive, she saw, his chest slowly rising and falling, though his head was covered in rain water streaked with blood. The big bird squawked and hopped to join the other jays, while still staring intently at the humans.

Kate lay catching her breath and assessing the situation, shaken and fearful but elated to be alive and not to be bird food, at least so far. Though very shaken up and her arms were sore from her rescuer's grip, she wasn't otherwise injured.

Rain came with a gust of wind. John coughed, and Kate realized that exposed to the gigantic raindrops he could soon be in danger of drowning. She crawled closer to him and cupped a hand over his mouth and nose to shield the rain. Rain from the fast approaching storm was still intermittent, but based on the increasing darkness and growing wind and noise, soon there would be a full deluge. The little moss clearing was a wonderfully soft place to land, but too exposed to the rain. She and John needed shelter. Looking around, she saw moss, more moss, and some small flowers and wild strawberries. Further away, there were five meter tall ferns, and trees of various types and sizes.

The three jays stood not far from the humans squawking at each other until two of them flew off again. The remaining bird, the one that had saved her and was by far the biggest jay, returned to stand again over her and John, looking down at them with huge alien eyes. Though wet and disarrayed it was a truly magnificent creature. It was enormous for a jay; it would have weighed perhaps six hundred pounds on Earth, she estimated. It was squawking so loudly that it hurt her ears. Afraid that it would eat John, she rolled away as a diversion. The jay followed her, studying her intently, its features illuminated by flashes of lightning. The blue crest that crowned its head was raised high, meaning it was excited.

What came next? She still half expected the powerful jay to strike down at her; split her skull as it had done to the crow. Kate still didn't know if they were food to these jays or what, but the savage blue birds had clearly saved them from the crows and weren't killing them, at least for now. The big jay squawked and returned to John. In response Kate also returned to John's side and knelt on her hands and knees over him to shield him from the worst of the rain and the gaze of the jay. "John, are you alright?" Kate asked anxiously, though quietly, so not to startle the bird. She had hoped John would regain consciousness by now, but he clearly hadn't. He was still unconscious and blood and water drenched his head. She zipped open her glide suit, tore a strip of cloth from her tee-shirt, and whipped his face and hair as best she could, and was relieved that the cut on his left temple wasn't as bad as it first seemed, though he had lost too much blood. "I've got to keep the rain off you!" she muttered.

To her astonishment the jay that stood above her spread it's great wings, sheltering her and John from the rain.

She anxiously felt for John's pulse and was reassured to find that he clearly had a strong one, though it was too rapid. She examined his legs and arms and torso and found no obvious damage; as far as she could tell, concussion and blood loss appeared to be the main problem. She had to stop the loss of blood and keep him warm. How? Night and the brunt of the storm were coming soon and the chilling rain had already cooled and wetted everything.

There was a brief break in the rain again and from where she lay Kate looked up at the huge jay that still stood above them. It had folded its wings to take advantage of a brief pause in the rain. It was watching her with one, huge dark eye. What was it thinking? Were she and John food, or trophies, or what? It was big enough to completely eat a human. She had seen the historic record of these savage creatures fighting humans to the death. The jays had been the most dangerous of the birds to humans; now she and John were completely at the mercy of this powerful creature. Instead, remarkably, it again spread its great wings over her and John as the rain resumed, acting as a living umbrella to shield her from much of the rising wind and raindrops. Harder rain was coming however, she could hear it battering the forest nearby and raging ever closer. In the coming deluge, not even the jay's wings would provide much shelter; she and John would be drenched and battered.

Only a few meters away a great tree stood. If she could move John there, under the sheltering leaves and to the lee of the wind next to the trunk, perhaps he stood a chance. Would the jay let her move John? She looked up at the jay and pointed first at John and then at the trunk of the tree. The bird remained motionless but attentive. Continuing to watch for adverse reaction from the creature, she crawled and then crouched over John's legs, and wrapping her arms around both boots, half stood and lifted them at the same time, feeling dizzy from the effort. He was far too heavy; she had lifted his legs and tugged on them but nothing else moved. She stood over him, a foot on each side of his body, straining hopelessly.

Suddenly something powerful grasped the collar of her flight suit and lifted up on her and pulled her towards the tree. It was the big jay, grasping her flight suit in its strong beak, slowly moving both humans towards shelter with incredible strength, while it continued to block the rain with its wings. In a few seconds they were all under the tree, out of the rain and most of the wind, where the big bird released her and shook itself off.

"Thank you," she muttered automatically, as she dropped exhausted next to the still unconscious sheriff.

"Glad to help, human," squawked the jay clearly.

Before she could respond, a load cry marked the arrival of first the other two jays, which hopped under the tree to stand near the big jay, and then two huge, screaming, terrifying raptors. Each must mass close to two metric tons and have a thirteen-meter wingspan, she estimated. They were peregrine falcons, Kate realized, frightening and magnificent. The larger one carried a dead crow nearly as massive as itself, while the other one carried a tangle of vines wrapped around a small brown bird. Both raptors hopped close to the sheltering tree also, screaming all the while, while the big jay screamed back at them. The big jay held its ground, while the two other jays glanced nervously back and forth at the falcons and the humans, and tried unsuccessfully to put the larger jay between themselves and both perceived threats.

What did the falcons want, she wondered? What was going on here? Kate held her breath but the birds seemed to be communicating, rather than fighting. The big jay seemed to be doing most of the 'talking'.

The brunt of the storm finally struck, with terrible lightning, wind, and rain. The humans and birds were well sheltered, however. After only a few minutes the rain stopped and the two falcons carried the dead crow further away and started ripping it to bits and eating it, while the two smaller jays preened themselves, less concerned now with the raptors, but frequently glancing nervously at Kate and John. The dark clouds above receded and filtered sunlight illuminated the forest.

The big jay hopped to where the little brown bird had been released by the falcon, and with beak and claw started fussing with the tangle of vines that were wrapped around it. The little bird cheeped excitedly and the jay responded; the two birds actually seemed to be conversing. As soon as it was free of the vines the brown bird stood up and shook water off of itself. It was a brown creeper, Kate realized. Still cheeping excitedly, it hopped towards her and John, frightening her again. It was small, by Aves standards, but was still huge by Earth standards, and had a long sharp bill.

"Hello, hello," it said cheerily. "Me Brownie. Brownie Captain Jack friend. Brownie Sheriff John friend. You friend to Captain Jack and Sheriff John? What is your name, human female? Is Sheriff John hurt?"

****

CHAPTER 15

STRANGE CONVERSATIONS

Brownie? Captain Jack friend? Kate realized that the little brown creeper had to be the Captain's missing brown bird, the friendly one that he had claimed could talk so well! "Kate. Kate is my name. Yes, Sheriff John is hurt, but I think he will be alright. Yes, Kate is Captain Jack's friend. Captain Jack has told me about his good friend Brownie."

"Kate is new friend for Captain Jack. Brownie did not see Kate at big human nest of Captain Jack. Did Kate come from far away? Come in big flying home from human world far away?"

"Yes. I came from very far away. I arrived in a space ship a few days ago, a big flying home." Kate's head was spinning. The little bird was actually using decently structured sentences and discussing space travel with her!

The jay squawked loudly and hopped closer, and the brown creeper peeped something in reply. Kate, realizing that she was missing profound data, retrieved her COM from her belt and activated it.

"What word for this color?" the creeper asked Kate, as it poked the jay's wing with its long, pointy beak.

"Blue," Kate replied, as she warily watched the jay. One stroke of that powerful bill could kill. "And we call the bird a blue jay."

"Blue Dawn Jay is my name," squawked the big jay abruptly. "Brownie is friend of Blue. Brownie sings human song, and Blue learns. Kate should sing more human song, and Blue will learn human song more."

"Sing? Oh, you mean talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes. We are talking now. Human singing is something else."

"Show the something else that is human singing."

Kate sang 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,' very poorly. The jay repeated it accurately, mimicking it so well that it sounded like a recording of her awkward effort, then the jay squawked with the creeper for a short time.

"Blue does know now; Brownie did explain. Human talk is Plain Song. No other notes to know, is only Plain Song. Human singing also plain, but with notes, so is better than plain talk. Human talk is like the crow song, not good. Human voice is plain and slow, always."

"I have a poor voice, but I am not a singer, I am a scientist. Some human singers have good voices."

The big bird bobbed its head. "Blue understands. Some humans are singers, not Kate. Is true for birds also. Kate is a scientist human, not a song human. What is a scientist?"

"Scientists try to know things, to understand how things work. My job is to understand living things on new worlds, to understand how they live, to know how their bodies work. My job is to understand birds, to know many things about the birds of this world."

The jay squawked in clear excitement. "Blue is a scientist bird. The job of Blue now is to understand humans, to understand many things. Blue is a singer also. Brownie sings that humans have other songs, good songs that do not use human singing. Songs without voice. Brownie sings that some humans use things not alive to make songs, and do not use human singing. This is a new thing to know. Can Kate make other songs? Song made from other things?"

Kate was perplexed. Things used to make song?

"Guitar," squawked Brownie. "Drum. Violin. Kate can make their song with small box." The clever little bird pointed its long beak at the COM that hung from Kate's belt. It seemed an odd request to get from giant birds, after sitting out a rainstorm in a great forest.

Nodding, Kate retrieved the unit. As if on cue, the rainstorm moved on further and the sound of it receded as she searched the COM for recorded music. In the relative quiet, Vivaldi's Four Seasons suddenly burst from the little box. She was glad now she had paid extra for True Sound and decent amplification, for the little COM unit gave a good accounting. The effect on the birds was astonishing. Blue stared at the box intently, wondering how on earth the tiny thing could sing, as did the other jays. Brownie bobbed his head with the music. Even the falcons stopped preening and feeding on the dead crow and hopped closer to listen, transfixed by the exotic, unworldly music that emanated mysteriously from the tiny box. Kate stopped it after one movement however, as she was worried about conserving the COM unit's energy reserves.

"Good song," nodded Blue. "Good box. Humans clever. Is very good, that humans sing." Then it was again Kate's turn to be amazed, for the jay sang several minutes of orchestra music back to her, note for note, mimicking the various instrument sections so closely that they were easily recognizable. Kate was astonished. The bird nodded its head. "Is good song, but no words in the song. This new song is plain, with no words inside it, but is very good plain song." The big bird glanced around, taking in the other birds who watched their every move, then nodded its head. He breathed a long sigh that seemed to Kate could signify regret. "No time now for more human song. Blue is sad of this. Now need human plain song that you call talk."

"Yes, we should talk," agreed Kate. "Is Blue a friend to Kate?"

"Blue does not know. Blue and Kate need talk now to know this."

"Fair enough. Why did you save us?"

"Blue does not know," said Blue. He squawked with the other jays for several seconds. "My flock Bob and Nod did hear crows attack humans. They did hear the names of the crows. These were the same crows that killed their young eggs, so they did attack to kill the crows. From above I saw them fight crows and so I came to help my flock fight. Also, I did see humans. I am on a quest to find humans. I must sing with humans, learn knowledge of humans as scientist bird. When I find humans being attacked by crows, I decide that I must keep humans safe to sing with them."

"What about the falcons?" She nodded towards the raptors, who had gone back to preening but still stood next to Blue, towering above him.

"Falcons are not friends to crows. Jays are not friends to crows. Blue, falcons sing of this. Falcons help Blue; Blue help Falcons."

"Interesting," said Kate. "An alliance. Not friend, but not enemy, but allies. The jays and falcons are allies against the crows."

The blue bird nodded his head human-like in agreement. "These jays and these falcons are allies. The crows are enemies to songbirds and falcons. Songbirds and falcons sing, and be allies. Are humans enemies or allies with songbirds?"

Kate took a deep breath. She could be on shaky ground here. This jay seemed to be sophisticated though; she decided to be truthful. "Not friends and not allies, not yet, but not enemies. Humans came to this world to grow food for humans, not to be the enemies of birds. There was fighting with birds when humans first came, but the fighting has stopped. Captain Jack is a friend to most songbirds. John and I do not want to be your enemy. I want to be a friend to all birds. Perhaps humans and birds should try to be friends, not simply allies. Friends would be better than allies."

The jay cocked its head to one side, as if considering the concepts. "Yes, to be friends is always better than to be only allies, but much is there to know first. Humans come from far world in big ships to find food?"

"Yes. There are many more humans far away on our world. Humans on our home world need more food. We will take the food we grow here on this world to our home world in our big ships."

"Human home world is far away? Home world is at other star: twinkle, twinkle little star world, far away, as in song? Ships are large homes that carry food to human world from bird world?"

Kate nodded her head in amazement. This was all happening astonishingly fast. Too fast. This creature was extraordinarily intelligent, the way it was putting everything together so quickly. How was that possible? They didn't seem to have any science or technology, certainly no astronomy. How did they know of other worlds? What if she was telling this clever jay something that she shouldn't? She decided to change the subject. "Now I must help my friend John, and rest. We need food, water, and to be warm and dry. Can you help us?"

The big jay squawked to Brownie and then to the other two jays, who had been standing a few meters away, silently watching. The jays hopped away into the forest as Blue returned his attentions to Kate. "We will help. You eat and rest soon, when it will be dark. At dawn we talk most, Kate, but talk more now also, for Blue is a scientist."

"What do you want to know?"

"Humans are here on this world how long?"

"Four years."

Blue and Browne squawked back and forth. "Four cycles of seasons only? Humans were not here long ago? First humans come to this world only four years before now?"

"Yes. The first humans came here four years ago. John was one of the first humans to come here, in the first ship from Earth."

This time Blue turned and squawked with the falcons for several seconds. "Humans have names for birds. Humans call my kind of bird blue jay. Where do humans find these names?"

"On our world there are small birds that look like you. We use their names for the large birds of this world."

"There are birds like us on your world far away at other star?"

"They look like you but they are much, much smaller than you. They do not talk, and they are not intelligent like you. Wait, my COM box can show you." Kate pulled her collapsible screen from her pocket, plugged it into her COM, and spread it on the ground before Blue. After a quick search the COM displayed an earth blue jay in a cage, sitting next to a human in a white laboratory outfit.

Fascinated, the jays and falcons stared at the screen as a strange voice spoke about blue jays, using some strange human words. Shortly, Kate turned off the presentation, and there was a flurry of song between the birds, after which Blue turned to regard Kate once again. "These are birds on your far world? How can we see them here?"

Kate explained recording basics, using analogies with the memories of living creatures, after which the birds all squawked to each other again.

"This explains your music also," noted Blue astutely. "Are there other recordings in this box which you may show to birds? Recordings of human ships and homes? Recordings of places on this world where you grow plants and live?"

"Yes, I can show you many recordings. I can show you far away homes of humans on the human world and the settlements of the humans here on this world."

While the birds squawked together excitedly for several minutes, Kate checked on John, who was still unconscious. In the meantime, the two other jays returned, carrying folded leaves, which they lay gently at Kate's feet. Unfolding them, Kate found that one contained several huge cracked nuts and berries, while the other contained water. She splashed a handful of the clear liquid on John's face, and was rewarded when his eyes opened and looked up dully at her. He drank water from her cupped hands, and when he became aware of the nearby birds, tried to sit up.

"What's happening?" he asked weakly.

"It's all right, John, these birds are friendly. They saved both of our lives."

"Crows attacked us."

"They were defeated by these birds."

John stared in the direction that Kate pointed. The suns had set, but the storm clouds were gone and light from one of the Aves' moons already provided dim light. Suddenly he reached for his holstered gun, pulling it out in one smooth motion, and pointed it towards the birds. It was a long barreled handgun with a shoulder brace that folded out, turning it into a short-barreled rifle. "Get behind me Kate," he whispered urgently.

"John," said Kate. "Put the gun away. I told you, they saved our lives."

He kept the gun pointed at the birds. "It's jays, Kate, blue jays and raptors!"

"I know that, John. I just had a long conversation with one of the jays. They saved us and brought us food and water. They've had plenty of chances to kill us, if they wanted to."

"You don't understand!" he protested.

"No John, you don't understand," she countered firmly. "Trust me: we're safe. Now put the gun down."

A bird broke from the group and came hopping towards them rapidly, cheeping excitedly. Weltman shoved Kate aside and took aim at the charging creature.

"Sheriff Johnny! Sheriff Johnny!" it peeped shrilly. For a moment, Kate thought that Weltman would shoot the advancing bird, but he lowered the gun to his side.

"Brownie?" he asked, as the little creeper bounced into him, knocking him to the ground before plopping down on him in a mass of flopping feathers.

Kate gently pulled the little bird off of him, and was relieved to find the battered sheriff actually smiling. The smile disappeared however, as he looked past her at the huge bird that suddenly loomed over them both.

"Sheriff John, I am Blue Dawn Jay," it announced clearly.

Weltman had the gun in his hand again, pointed at the jay. "Stay away from us," he ordered sternly.

The bird moved away one step. "You are a friend of other humans, sings Brownie, and friend to songbirds. You protect humans. It is the job of jays to stop others from hurting songbirds. Jays protect all songbirds. This is the Pact of the Jays to all songbirds."

"The job of all the jays?" asked Kate. "The job of all jays is to protect all other songbirds? All jays?"

"All jays will fight to save other songbirds," stated the bird. "Jays will fight and die if they must, to save other birds."

"My God!" said Kate. "John, don't you see what that means?"

Weltman kneeled slack jawed, staring at the big jay, shaking his head, still trying to comprehend that this bird was actually talking.

"The jays were only protecting the other birds! Humans were killing birds, eating birds, those first years. The jays had to attack humans, you gave them no choice!"

"They're devils, Kate. You don't understand; you weren't there. They attacked us like nothing else mattered."

"You hunted them, you killed them. For two years you ate them, for God's sake!"

"They were just dumb birds, Kate, that's what we thought."

"And you were wrong. That was the Corporation line. If they weren't just dumb birds, their claim to the planet would be null and void."

"But we tried to be peaceful with them, lots of times. It never worked, Kate. They hated us. They attacked us again and again. It was overwhelming, the hate and the violence."

"Old Ones," said Blue. "Jays hear the old songs, and hate and fear Old Ones. Humans are the Old Ones returned, that is what all jays would know."

"Who are the Old Ones?" asked Kate.

"Old bird songs tell of Old Ones. Old Ones make birds, make trees, make much on this world. Bring birds and trees come from other world, a world far away with one star. The Old Ones are crawlers, not birds. The Old Ones have big nests, fly in ships from far stars. They are very clever. Then long ago the Old Ones killed birds. Not for food, only to kill. Birds then did fight to kill the Old Ones."

"A war," said Kate.

"War," agreed Blue. "Killing with no reason. Bad. Many birds were killed. All the Old Ones were then gone, but some birds lived to sing of the Old Ones. Songs of crawlers that walk on two legs, do not fly, fly only using things that they make. Clever crawlers with clever nests that fly to worlds far, far away near other stars. The humans are the Old Ones returned, birds would know, when they see humans. Birds fear the Old Ones, attack the Old Ones. Jays would fight against Old Ones."

"It all fits," said Kate. "The first jays encountered didn't want to talk things over peacefully any more than the humans did. We humans were the Old Ones to them, an ancient enemy returned, again bringing death to birds. The humans didn't want to find that birds might be sentient, or they would lose the new world they had found. The birds lack technology; it was easy for humans to rationalize away their obvious intelligence. A war between birds and those they thought were Old Ones started all over again."

The jay nodded its head. "Kate is clever. Blackbirds are clever too. Blackbirds did understand a new way to grow strong, using humans. Blackbirds did see humans grow food. Blackbirds did sing that they will be friends to humans, signs Brownie. This blackbird song is not true; for Blackbirds are only friends to other blackbirds. They will be allies with humans only while it is good for blackbirds. Allies, never friends."

Weltman shook his head, and still kneeled with the gun pointed at Blue. "Wait just a minute! The blackbirds have never attacked humans that I know of, except for those crows today. They have been working with humans, helping with our crops. I never liked them or trusted them, but until today I never had any real trouble with them. On the other hand, many humans have been attacked by jays and raptors and killed by jays and raptors. How do we know you aren't talking to us now to prepare for war against us? Why should we trust anything that you tell us?"

"Yes, that is clever thought, human," replied the jay. "And why now should birds trust humans?"

"OK, OK," said Weltman. "So we don't trust each other. Fair enough. Now what?"

"A human must talk Plain Song to the Great Council of Songbirds. Show human clever box to Council. The Great Council will decide what to do."

"What is the Great Council?" Kate asked.

"Birds from all of this World you call Aves," explained Blue. "Council will decide what Aves songbirds will do."

"I'll be damned!" exclaimed Weltman. "Not only are they sentient, they have some sort of planet-wide government."

"Kate will come to Council with Blue," stated the jay.

"Kate will come?" spat Weltman, his hand tightening on the gun. "With you? I don't think so! Certainly not without me."

The jay named Blue Dawn nodded its head. "Brownie sang of Sheriff John. A friend to Captain Jack, but a human that hates the jay, and always carries sticks that kill. Small Kate can be carried high and far, it is not so easy to carry Sheriff John. Sheriff John is heavy to carry far. Strong falcons could carry John, but John also is hurt, John should rest. Sheriff John will stay here with Brownie, Bob and Nod. Kate and Blue will fly together tomorrow. Falcons will carry Blue and Kate. Two falcons to carry only two riders. Only two riders can come. One must be Blue, one must be Kate."

John's head was throbbing, but he had to see this through. "What if I won't let you take her? You know what I am holding. I could kill you with this, and your other bird friends, if you try to take her." He doubted that he could stop all of them. He could stop one or two of them if he was lucky, before the others would overwhelm him.

"No, John," said Kate, sternly.

Blue's head drooped. "That would be bad; bad for many birds; bad for humans. Humans need plain talk with bird leaders. Brownie sings Sheriff John is good human, friend to birds, friend to Brownie. Blue is friend to Brownie. John will not kill Blue. John will be ally to Blue."

Weltman shook his head. "Kate is my responsibility. I am the human leader here. I need to protect her; that is my job."

The jay nodded. "I understand. You are flock leader for Kate. I ask you now that she goes with me." The jay stood tall, his feathers fluffed such that he looked huge, with the tuft on his head pointing up. "I, Blue Dawn Jay, will protect Kate. Blue will return Kate safe to Sheriff John. This I sing to you, from this flock leader Blue to flock leader John."

"Yes, I will go," stated Kate, before Weltman could respond.

John's jaw dropped. "I can't let you be carried off by jays and raptors Kate, I can't!"

"John, I came to Aves to study birds, and this is the chance of a lifetime. I've already learned more from talking with them in a few minutes then I learned since I got here. I have to go, and you have to let me go."

"Kate wants to fly free, away from her flock," said Blue. "This is the right of any bird, to fly free, as Freedom of Flight. Is this true also for humans?"
"Kate, I spent years fighting jays and raptors, they can't be trusted!" His gun still pointed at Blue.

"I am jay," said Blue. "Jays always sing true."

Brownie stepped forward again, placing his small brown body between the gun and Blue. "Blue Dawn Jay is best bird for Brownie, save life of this small bird many times. Kill many bad blackbirds. Kate is safe with Blue, Blue is best bird ever. Blue is friend to raptors. Blue is friend to great eagle and great owl, keep Brownie safe from blackbirds. Blue always sings true, Blue will keep Kate safe. If you kill Blue, kill Brownie first. Black birds will kill Brownie if Blue is killed."

It was the longest speech Weltman had ever heard from the plucky little Brown bird. With a deep sigh, he lowered the gun and holstered it. "You win. But this has to be only for a short time."

Blue cocked his head thoughtfully. "Blue does agree; it must be a short time only. Three days, at most. Blackbirds will attack songbirds soon."

"Three days then," agreed Weltman. "After that I'm coming to get you, Kate. And not just to get back to help with the monster worm situation."

"What is monster worm?" asked Blue.

A stream of excited chirps erupted from Brownie.

"How big is worm?" asked Blue. "Are there many worms?"

"Bigger than humans, most of them, and there are thousands of them," said Kate. "As large as a large tree, some of them."

Blue squawked several times, and then all of the birds erupted in excited chatter.

"Does box of Kate carry pictures of worms?" asked Blue.

Kate nodded as she unfolded the COM screen again and held it up. On the screen a scene of terror suddenly appeared, monster worms erupting from the earth, and grackles attacking them, screaming. Humans were glimpsed also, fleeing and firing guns at the monstrous worms with little effect. Blue and all the other birds watched attentively, and Kate could sense their immediate agitation. Within a few seconds the birds were hissing, screaming, pawing the ground, and flapping their wings, prompting Kate to turn off the COM.

"Kreeeee, kreeeeeee," screamed the falcons.

"Is bad, bad, bad," sang Brownie, as he squatted under Blue, shivering in fear.

****

CHAPTER 16

FLIGHT TO SONG WOOD

In dim light Blue watched the feeding humans with great interest. They were not at all what he had expected. These creatures seemed so ... weak and helpless! Though the Old One legends hadn't precisely defined their size, he expected them to be much bigger, stronger and somehow more grand and threatening. Instead, they seemed to exhibit an incredibly strange collection of weaknesses and contradictions. Perhaps they truly were not the Old Ones after all!

Their song was abysmally crude. Even the music that used strange and wondrous tools lacked the depth of bird song, though it was very interesting. But it was only plain sounds, with no inner content, no deeper meaning. Human vocal capability seemed worse even than that of crows or raptors. Song was the core of heart and mind for bird society. How could allegedly superior beings possibly be so inept when it came to song?

Their appearance was equally shocking. Blue had expected that they would resemble to some degree birds or some crawler that he was familiar with, but these creatures were completely strange, unlike anything he could have ever imagined. They had no feathers and only a little hair, a fact that he confirmed with Brownie, who explained that their actual skin was soft and seemed to be virtually naked, except for a few small patches of hair. To make up for their lack of feathers they usually covered their skin with strange, thin materials that were not alive, hiding their true skin almost entirely, leaving only head and front paws exposed.

Blue couldn't imagine living a meaningful life without feathers. Besides allowing flight, feathers kept their bearer warm or cool, protected from beaks, claws, and most crawlers, and provided color patterns necessary to establish identity and attract mates. Practicality aside, these creatures were downright ugly, due largely to their bare skin. Especially the male.

They were strange and unattractive in other ways. Their fleshy, beakless mouths were mere slits, located below small, soft protuberances through which they apparently breathed. Their jaws were weak; the woman had to use a rock and log to further crack open the nut that they now shared. Inside their mouths Blue had glimpsed thick, short, flat tongues and small, dull looking bony structures. Some types of crawlers had teeth, so he knew what these were, just as he had recognized hair. Blue was thankful that the humans kept most of their misshapen bodies covered.

Brownie explained that humans, like crawlers, swallowed no stones, so apparently chewing of food using teeth was necessary prior to swallowing. This strange eating process was obviously inconvenient; eating took a very long time for the humans. Brownie also mentioned that they preferred to burn most of their food with fire before eating it, a very strange habit indeed. Fire had been one of Song Flame's research interests, so Blue knew more about it than did most other birds, including what all birds knew: fire was hot, dangerous, and destructive; a thing to be avoided.

The humans' upper appendages featured digits that were capable of performing delicate manipulations; this was the only clear human body advantage that Blue noted relative to birds. The small upper legs probably weren't very strong though, especially those of the female. Their lower legs looked stronger, but strangely weren't capable of grasping anything, unless talons were hidden beneath the objects they wore over the ends of their feet. They had no tails at all, a situation that required them to stand almost vertical; not a streamlined posture at all for pushing through the air. These creatures were designed for ground dwelling, he reasoned, and perhaps limited climbing in trees.

They seemed to be bright enough, but not overwhelmingly so. In thought as well as speech, they seemed abysmally slow. All in all, it was puzzling that they were somehow capable of clearing great areas of forest, building great nests, and accomplishing other wonders.

Most remarkable were the non-living devices that they used, such as the airplane that carried them and the box that sang and showed things that weren't really there. Had humans actually made these things, or had they gotten them from someone else? From the real Old Ones, perhaps?

Altogether, they were very small and frail, and not the imposing menace suggested by songs of the bloody war with the Old Ones, at least not physically. Especially the female, who was barely half the size of the male. Though larger, the male was only half the weight of an average jay, and lacked beak and claw. However, even the great raptors feared human fire-sticks, another of their amazing tools. Cleverness and tools used by their hands must be the keys to their success, Blue reasoned.

Such considerations, though interesting, weren't Blue's key concerns. Could humans be trusted, or was their plain talk twisted like the song of the blackbird? Despite what the humans had said or looked like, they still could be the Old Ones, Blue reasoned. They could be lying. Or they might even be Old Ones and not know it. However, if they were not the Old Ones, how could the fact that the human home world was inhabited by miniature duplicates of the birds of this world be explained? After singing with these strange creatures, there seemed to be more questions than ever.

Understanding other types of birds was hard enough; understanding humans would be much more difficult, Blue reasoned. However, the humans at least had song, strange and primitive as it was, and that was in their favor. Blue wished to hear more of the human music made using tools. Though it lacked words it was otherwise quite sophisticated. He was also intrigued that the female was a searcher for knowledge, perhaps much as Song Flame had been. Such areas of common ground, in accumulation, would perhaps allow greater understanding to be shared over time.

Encountering these humans had been extremely fortunate. Blue had convinced the falcons that he and the female human should be flown to the Great Council immediately, and had gotten even the humans to cooperate. Assuming that pictures shown by Kate's box were sufficient as evidence, he now didn't have to travel further to the south to examine the forests. If the Council could make decisions sooner, the falcons could carry solid news to the raptors, while the songbirds prepared for the battles to come.

The creeper rested at Blue's feet, already asleep. More than any other factor, the tiny bird had been instrumental in allowing dialogue to occur with these humans. Without prior knowledge of human speech, Blue doubted that he would have been able to communicate with these strange creatures. In addition, the small bird had twice intervened with the male human, preventing use of the strange death stick that he carried.

What fearful quests the little bird must have endured with Song Flame, even before joining up with Blue! Blue saw a biting crawler climb onto the sleeping creeper, and he skillfully plucked it off and ate it without waking the little bird.

The humans ate their fill of berries and nuts, and then took turns walking into the forest and relieving themselves. The male was still weak and unsteady on his feet but managed. Each returned carrying a collection of small leaves which they then used to fashion primitive nests. Huddled close to each other for warmth or emotional need, the two strange creatures finally slept.

Overhead and very near, Bob and Nod roosted. Raptors and humans could not be trusted, the pair of jays had decided. They took turns sleeping, watching over Blue, Brownie, and themselves. Not far above them slept the raptors, swift and savage death on the wing. These birds slept more soundly, confident in their supreme powers.

Blue at last closed his weary eyes, but had trouble sleeping. To the already dire threats presented by the Black Flock and the Old Ones another had been added, an even more serious one. Scourge threatened the entire World, Blue knew. Many old songs warned of its dangers, songs telling of monster worms more dangerous and destructive than even the Old Ones. At last, deep into the night, sleep came to him.

****

In the gray light of dawn Kate woke to the sound of Blue squawking bird talk and then talking human. She was surprised when she realized that John lay sleeping pressed warmly against her, spooning her close as she lay on her right side. They had gone to sleep back-to-back, but had both unconsciously shifted about during the night. Her head was tucked under his, and she could feel the press of his chin and his show steady breaths on the top of her head. His left arm lay over hers, and his left leg lay over her right leg. Most noticeably, the entire length of his body was snuggled warmly against hers, separated only by thin layers of flight suits and clothes. She felt sore but very comfortable.

In front of Blue stood the two other jays attentively, as he rattled off word after word to them, interspersed with bursts of 'bird talk'. The big jay was evidently teaching human-speech to Bob and Nod.

Realizing this to be a tremendous research opportunity, Kate gently separated herself from John, retrieved her COM unit, and recorded the exchange. Hundreds of words were being 'taught', with amazing rapidity, in just a few minutes. If jays could learn a human language so quickly they were remarkable creatures indeed.

The falcons preened on a nearby tree limb, perhaps also listening to Blue. The raptors were splendid and frightful, and every gesture hinted of savage independence and power. Were they as intelligent as the others? Could they also learn human speech?

Finally, Kate turned to gaze at Blue. In the light of day, the big jay was even more spectacular, and seemed larger and covered with finer feathers. He had preened, she realized. He concluded his language lesson and turned his attentions to Kate.

"Greetings this morning of sunlight, Kate," chirped Blue. "Bob and Nod know much human talk now. They be good flyers and blackbird fighters. Sheriff John will be safe with them." He squawked to the jays, and the pair hopped off into the bushes together and disappeared into the forest. "They bring food and water soon. Humans eat. Then Kate and Blue go with falcons."

"You said that Bob and Nod saved us because the crows attacked us had killed their chick eggs. Are Bob and Nod mates then?"

"Yes. Their eggs were eaten by those crows. Bob and Nod are a pair, male and female. Mates is word for this? Are Kate and John mates?"

Kate laughed and shook her head as she stretched and stood up. She felt a bit sore in spots but well rested. "No, no, we just work together."

"Work together; do job together, be of the same flock. John is flock leader for Kate."

"Yes, I suppose he is, in a way."

"You will wake him now? We will have Plain Song again, flock leader to flock leader."

Kate did as she was asked. She was relieved to see that John was more alert and less pale. He even smiled for a moment, when he first saw her and sat up, but his expression turned grim when he fixed his attentions on the huge jay that stood behind her.

"Greetings this morning, flock leader Sheriff John. Soon I fly with Kate. Yesterday we plain talked of keeping your flock member Kate safe. Now we must plain talk of my flock members Bob and Nod."

"What is there to say?" he asked, as he stood up to better confront the jay. His felt dizzy and his head still throbbed where the crow struck him yesterday. Standing tiny and injured before the giant jay he felt powerless and helpless. Worse, realization of what Kate faced crashed in on him. She was going to fly off alone with these birds.

"I, flock leader for Bob and Nod, need plain talk from you. I go with Kate, Bob and Nod stay here. They sing that they will protect you from harm. I ask you to talk that you will do them no harm. They are good, good birds."

"Very well. I will do them no harm, if they do me no harm."

"You sing true?"

"My word is true."

Human like, the big jay nodded his head. "Small bird Brownie stays with you also. Brownie is good, good bird. You will do him no harm?"

"Of course not; he is my friend."

"You will protect him and the jays from harm?"

"Yes, if it comes to that, I'll do what I can."

Blue again nodded his head slowly. "Is good."

"Do you again pledge to protect Kate as well?" asked John.

"Yes, I am jay; my word is true," replied the bird.

Bob and Nod arrived with breakfast, hopping from the forest carrying folded leaves again, and Blue withdrew to sing with the raptors. "Greetings of morning suns, humans. Water for humans drink," squawked Bob.

"Berries for humans eat," added Nod. The grapefruit-sized blackberries, cantaloupe-sized wild grapes, and gulf-ball sized huckleberries looked particularly good.

"Thank you," answered Kate, amazed at the language proficiency exhibited by the birds. "And thank you both, for saving us from the crows yesterday. You are brave fighters and friends."

"Friends is good," replied Bob.

"Is good, good, good," repeated Nod, nodding her head repeatedly. They both seemed to be much more at ease, now that they could directly communicate with the humans.

Weltman shook his head in wonder and bewilderment. He could hardly believe this was happening. Since the previous morning his world had been turned upside down. First there were the giant worms, now this. Attacked by blackbirds, saved by jays and raptors! Fed by jays! Talking with jays! Too much was happening, much too fast. What was behind the crow attack? Was it an isolated incident or part of something more insidious? Worst of all by far, what was Kate getting herself into with the big jay and his raptor friends? Could they really be trusted?

"Have you tried the COM this morning?" John asked Kate, hoping for some sort of development that would change her plans.

"Twice," she replied. "We're clearly out of range."

"Searchers should home in on the plane's emergency beacon eventually, if it still functions, but that could take several days, maybe longer, assuming the worms are their main concern by now. Besides, we were blown far off course. You should take my gun with you, Kate." Kate had lost her own weapon during the blackbird attack. John detached his holstered weapon and held it out to her.

She wouldn't take it. "You're a much better shot, John. You should keep it, if it makes you feel safer. I'll have Blue and the raptors protecting me."

John shrugged. He knew that Kate was too stubborn for him to change her mind. Besides, she was probably right. Gun or no gun, they were both at the mercy of these huge, powerful birds. "What about the bug repellent? Where do you stand on that?"

Kate opened a tiny COM unit storage compartment and examined the little bottle of pills it contained. "Five days-worth, then I'm an insect lunch. My various anti-disease inoculations are good for three more weeks though. How about you?"

"Only three days of anti-bug pills. That's going to be our main problem, but I plan to look for the scooter; we have survival gear stowed on it, including a two week supply of pills that we'll probably need, not to mention the radios. What's the communications range on your COM unit?"

"Very limited, only meant to augment science team communications in the field. Transmission range is only about ten or twenty kilos, and that uses a lot of juice. Sunlight will keep it charged, if I limit use. Reception is a bit better, and I have it set to trigger an alarm if it senses anything at all. I expected it to have triggered already; doesn't Aves have a satellite communications network?"

"A partial network, and we're out of the coverage area."

"Figures."

"Kate, I still don't want you to go."

"I have to. It's only for a couple days."

"And what if you don't come back? Kate, I can't make you stay, but I don't want you to go."

"I'll be back. You rest up here and recover from that head wound. Find that scooter and see if its COM works. Talk with Brownie, Bob and Nod. You'll be so busy you'll hardly notice I'm gone."

"I notice already."

She smiled and looked into his eyes, and it was enough of a signal for him to take a chance. His lips were suddenly on hers, surprising her. She didn't pull away, surprising him. It was a short kiss, but while it lasted it caused the rest of universe to spin away and disappear.

"You take care of yourself, John Weltman," Kate told him. He was downright handsome when he smiled, she decided.

"You too, Kate," he replied awkwardly, as surprised and amazed at his own feelings as he was with hers.

The birds all stood around them, watching attentively. "We go now, Kate, on long flight," announced Blue. "These are raptor allies, Swift Wing and her mate, Mate to Swift Wing. We have vines. Kate can be in vines held by Mate to Swift Wing." Mate to Swift Wing hopped forward to stand before Kate, a length of vine held in his talons. Swift Wing watched attentively, her head twisted nearly upside down.

Weltman shook his head. "Instead, what if she rides on his back, holding onto feathers, with a vine around his neck and tied to her as a safety measure? That way his talons are free to land or to fight blackbirds, if the need arises." And she would be out of reach of those cruel raptor talons also, he didn't add.

"Yes," squawked Mate to Swift Wing, with a deep raspy voice, surprising the humans. "That is good. Kate can hold feathers strong?"

"Yes, with the help of vines," replied Kate, awed by the language ability of the raptor. It had a deep, raspy voice, but its speech was easily intelligible. "It sounds safer."

"Is warmer, also," added Swift Wing. "Humans have no feathers to be warm. It will be cold in the high sky. Can Blue prey bird ride this way also? Use claw and beak?"

"I will try it," said Blue. "Without vines."

As Mate to Swift Wing stood before them John and Kate arranged the vine harness. The falcon made sure the vine was not too tight around his neck, but otherwise let the humans set it up the way they wanted it.

"You should not worry, crawler Kate," said the huge falcon. "If you fall off, I will catch you in the air like this." He held out in front of her a cantaloupe-sized grape in his powerful talons. He tossed it a meter into the air, caught it, and immediately crushed it to mush, causing blue-tinged juice to gush and squirt. "Khhe, khhe, Khheeeeee," he cried then, as did his mate, as they watched the shocked reaction of Kate.

"Raptor humor," explained little Brownie, to the wide eyed humans, who looked at each other and then also laughed.

Blue, who had been recently held firmly by falcon talons, did not think it so funny, but he was glad to have learned for certain that humans had a sense of humor. "It is time to go," he announced.

Kate turned to John and looked up and deep into his eyes. "Take care," she said. She reached up and pulled his lips down to hers, intending another short but meaningful kiss, but the kiss stretched out much longer than she intended. She soon found that his arms were holding her tight against him and not letting go. She liked it, and didn't want it to ever stop, but finally she pushed away. It was time to go.

"You too," he said. Then he boosted her up onto the falcon's back and then reluctantly stepped away, forcing a smile and wave as she looked down at him. He was still weak and she wanted to stay with him, but for the love of God, she thought, she was taking to the air again, and was already experiencing vertigo just from being atop the falcon's back!

"WEEchew, WEEchew," cried both Falcons, as they spread their great wings, and Blue hopped onto the back of Swift Wing. Kate held on for dear life while the great beast beneath her flapped its wings powerfully and rose swiftly up into the thick air, past bush and tree. She could feel the rippling of its great muscles, pushing them forward and up through the thick air.

Peeking over the great bird's shoulder Kate saw that they were already above the great trees and still rising at an impossible rate. These creatures flew much better than the scooter ever could, that was immediately obvious. They soured above a rocky hill and apparently caught an updraft, in which they circled for several minutes, souring, climbing much higher without even flapping wings. Thousands of meters above the forest, the air was indeed cooler and thinner. Kate was grateful for the warmth of the flight suit and the feathers that she nestled in, and for the heat that radiated from the body of the great beast she rode. "WEEchew," cried Swift wing, and the two birds turned north as one, wings pumping steadily, focused now on forward motion rather than gaining altitude.

"You like to fly?" asked the falcon that carried her.

"Yes," said Kate, hoping that she could be heard through the wind. "I'm starting to like it very much." She liked it much better after the first minute or two of flight, when she had determined that she could confidently hold on to her mount well enough, and her heart slowed to a near-normal rate.

"It is a fine trick of the Great Maker, that you like to fly, but have no wings. Do humans believe in a Great Maker of all?"

"Yes, many of us believe in a Great Maker, but many do not."

"Kheeeeee, they do not fly then. If they would fly high and free, and see the great green living world, and feel the air through feathered wings, then they would believe."

"Yes, you are very wise," replied Kate, astonished to be discussing religion with a giant bird.

"We raptor birds sing much of such things with mates and siblings and offsping, as we fly for long times, searching for prey. Do humans sing of such things?"

"Yes, many humans do," she replied.

"In this you are like us, the raptors, and not like most songbirds. Most songbirds sing only of simple things. We raptors use much Plain Song. Much complex thinking, less complex sound. Is this how humans learn? Through their use of Plain Song?"

"Yes, if by that you mean words said without singing notes, we mostly use Plain Song, but more than that, we read."

"Explain what is read."

Kate explained as best she could the concept of Plain Song being represented by markings made on flat sheets, and how these could be remembered in COM units. She also talked of schools that showed all human children how to read, and how to do many things, such as building COM boxes and space ships.

"This explains many things," replied the raptor, after a period of silence. "Wise words are not lost through careless song, but seen and used again and again by others, and made yet more wise. More thought and more thought, unending, and growing almost without limit. Cleverness and wisdom, shared and saved, made greater with each new generation. It is clever and good for you humans, to write and to read. Very clever and very good."

Yes, it did indeed explain much, thought Blue, who had been listening attentively to the entire exchange. This was clearly a major key to human success, and something that birds lacked. For birds the closest parallel was the song of the song masters that was passed on, generation to generation. Yet as the falcon hinted, song had limitations.

"Do raptors belong to the Great Council?" Kate asked.

"Khhheee, khheee, khhhheeeee," both falcons laughed. "No, human. We raptors keep our own great council. It is best that we take you to the songbird Great Council and not the Raptor Council. At our council you would only be a very small meal. Kheee, Khhee, Khhheeee."

Conversation slackened then, as the travelers focused on flight. Kate used the suns to gage their direction. The falcons flew north generally, but they explained that they read the clouds and the feel of air on their wings to often tack to the east or west of that course to take advantage of tail winds and uplifting thermals. On an Earth sea, Kate had once ridden on a wind-driven sailboat. That had been an incredible experience, but it was nothing compared to the current one. She was flying many thousands of meters over an alien landscape, on the back of a giant, sentient, predatory bird. Beneath her, she could feel its massive muscles flex, and with her head pressed against its back, she could even feel its great heart beating. Only the fact that the components that made up their bones, muscles and other parts were five times stronger than in Earth life could account for their incredible flying ability, even in the thicker air of Aves. The creature she rode upon was much stronger than an ancient Earth T-rex, she realized, though it was much less massive.

As the hours wore on, however, wonder gradually gave way to weariness. The air, though thinner than at ground level, was cold and pressed against Kate endlessly, trying to slide her off of her feathered perch. She had fixed the vines to her belt and twined it about her shoulders and one arm, but her hands and arms were sore and cramped from clutching vines and feathers. She had dug her way between and under feathers as much as possible, for warmth and for streamlining, and also because it helped her hold her position on the bird, but she was still becoming increasingly tired, hungry, thirsty, and cold.

"WEEchew, WEEchew," cried Swift Wing abruptly, startling Kate.

"WEEchew," cried Mate to Swift Wing.

"Yaw, yaw, yaw," replied Blue.

"What is happening?" asked Kate.

"We are over Song Wood, human," explained Mate to Swift Wing. "Birds fight and die below, the blackbirds and the blue. Many raptors fight the Black Flock also. Hold tighter. We too will fight!"

"WEEEEEEEE," cried Swift Wing, as both falcons folded their wings close in to their bodies and dropped swiftly downward.

Kate dug further into Mate to Swift Wing's feathers as well as she could, as now that they were in free-fall, she couldn't use her weight to help her stay on the falcon. Through the noise of rushing air, as she clung to the raptor for her life, she heard the angry screams of thousands of birds fighting and dying below them.

****

CHAPTER 17

THE OLD ONE AT COUNCIL

With her fingers and wrists wrapped around the base of huge feathers Kate clung to Mate to Swift Wing's shoulders as the falcon struck its first victim, some sort of blackbird Kate could only assume, since her face was pushed into the falcon's back. "WEEchew," screamed the big bird, as his talons struck and tore into his victim. Kate was jolted hard and almost bounced totally off the falcon, but managed to hold on. She was thankful for the vines around the bird's neck and herself which served as a safety-system, but was determined not to test them, and dug her feet even deeper under the bird's back feathers, and renewed her hand-grips.

Her relief at having survived the falcon's attack was short-lived. A moment later her mount shot up with a powerful wing-stroke, then slid sideways, folded its wings and dove down to strike a second victim ... a crow, judging from its death scream. Without pause the big raptor moved on to yet another victim. Kate was glad that she was in back of the powerful bird, where she could not witness the carnage that it wrought with beak and claw, although it meant that she didn't know when the next jolt would occur.

As Mate to Swift Wing repeatedly dodged and struck, Kate was overwhelmed by the chaos of battle that surrounded her. Countless birds black, blue, and brown swirled in the air around her, and the sound of their beating wings and screaming was deafening.

She couldn't begin to comprehend the aerobatics that her nimble mount performed. Left, right, up and down lost all meaning; Kate felt as if she was being churned around inside a tornado or a giant clothes-dryer as the mighty bird twisted and spun, dived and soared, bucked and dove, while it screamed and cackled, grasped and ripped, crushed and tore his enemies. Feathers and blood droplets filled the air from the hundreds of life and death struggles going on around them.

She was helpless to do anything but hang on with every bit of strength that she had. Wind and feathers buffeted her relentlessly, trying to pull her from the safety of Mate to Swift Wing's back. Inertia and gravity, she couldn't tell which, yanked her, this way, and then that. So far the feathers she grasped and her fingers held, but how much more pulling would they take, before the feathers were pulled out, or there was no more strength left in her tiring, numbing fingers? She could only hope that she wouldn't find out.

Countless times Kate was slapped soundly by flapping feathered wings, and several times she was mashed soundly against her mount by another huge bird. After a particularly rough mashing, Mate to Swift Wing suddenly seemed to lift away from the fray, and the sounds of battle faded. "Are you alright, human?" he asked. "You aren't screaming your war-song as much."

War-song? She had been screaming in terror, before she became too exhausted to do so. Now she was far too tired to even laugh. "I can't take much more of this. I'm out of breath and almost too weak to hold on to you," she managed to explain.

"No matter, the battle is won, Kate; those blackbirds that still live flee," said a familiar voice from above her.

Kate looked up to see Blue Dawn Jay flying nearby. Far above, a scattering of blackbirds retreated rapidly, pursued by several swift falcons. Far below her, a new, happy sounding chorus rose from the victorious jays. This was followed by a far greater chorus, as all the gathering songbirds in Song Wood erupted into joyous song.

"Kreeeeeeeeeeeeee," screamed Mate to Swift Wing. The call was answered by one of the falcons high above them; Swift Wing broke off from chasing the blackbirds and dropped towards her mate.

The trio of birds again flew as one as they slowly glided down gently towards a great oak tree that stood higher than the other trees of the forest.

"Queeedle, queeedle," sang Blue joyfully, joining the other birds in song. Thousands of blue jays and songbirds of all types were converging on the great tree, filling its branches colorfully from top to bottom, like the living ornaments of an immense Christmas tree. The tree sheltered one end of a small clearing, around which still more of the great assembled host, filling the branches of all surrounding trees and bushes.

Not all the song was joyous. Haunting, plaintive cries of sorrow and pain were mixed in with those of triumph. On the bloody ground lay hundreds of dead and wounded, mostly blackbirds but also many blue, casualties of the great battle that had just been fought. Victory had come at a terrible price. There were even a few raptor bodies, as great numbers of smaller foes could overcome even the mightiest raptor. Injured ground-bound birds that could limp about were doing so; jays moved towards the oak-end of the glade, while ground-bound wounded blackbirds cowered away from the converging songbirds and jays. The injured enemies were allowed to limp away unhindered. The battle was over.

Blue, Swift Wing and her Mate landed on a lower branch of the Great Oak, Blue landing next to another great jay that had preceded them, who playfully pecked at Blue. Around them perched the Great Council members, exhausted and overwhelmed, but glad to be back. Still filling the thick air with joy and sorrow, all living birds sang and sang.

"My quest is complete, father," sang Blue, to the bird beside him. "I have returned to the Council to present what I have found."

"You returned early and in time to help drive away the Black Flock, Blue Dawn," noted Strike True. "I will listen with interest to your accounting of how you completed your task in so impossibly short a time. Is that small, strange, frail looking creature atop Mate to Swift Wing truly an Old One?"

"Perhaps not an Old One, but it is a human, father, and it is friendly and anxious to sing with the Council."

"Queeedle, queeedle," sang Strike True loudly, to announce the beginning of a Council meeting, and after only a few moments relative silence reined, as thousands of birds quieted their voices in response. Soon only the sound of a few flapping wings could be heard.

"In joy and with great relief the Great Council of songbirds again meets," sang Strike True loudly. "True to our pledge, we jays have flocked to defeat the Black Flock which had attacked the Council. We also sing with sorrow and thanks to those brave jays that now fly endless skies, so that we that remain may enjoy freedom of song and flight."

A burst of loud affirmation erupted for several seconds.

"We sing also in gratitude to the many raptors who have helped us defeat the Black Flock," continued Strike True, "to owls, hawks and falcons. Without them, we could not have won this day."

"Skreeeeeee," sang the harsh voices of dozens of raptors in agreement, most from high overhead, as most hawks and their swift falcon cousins only now were returning from chasing the fleeing blackbirds. There were also many hoots from the surrounding trees, where most of the darkness loving owls kept to the deep shadows. There followed unprecedented songs of grateful praise for raptors, from all the jays and other songbirds.

At last the song died down, and the assembled birds again listened attentively for whatever would come next. "We invite all of you here to take part in our Council," Strike True sang to the huge throng of birds that surrounded the clearing. "We have won a great victory, but I fear that we are not yet through with fighting. This may only be the beginning. Many surviving blackbirds fly south. Many more blackbirds flew south already, before our battle with them started. They must be massing in the far South, in far greater numbers than we defeated here today. We have won a great victory, but there may be a much greater battle ahead."

"They will fear us now and flee," sang a Council woodpecker. "I say it is finished."

"Perhaps," sang Strike True, "but before we can sing such glad tidings we must know far more. Most of the Black Flock flew south before the battle. Why did they leave before the battle, and risk losing Song Wood? No, I fear that it is not finished, and there is much happening that we do not yet understand. My son Blue Dawn was sent on a long quest to learn more. He has already returned, and he has brought with him someone that may help us understand what is happening."

Blue Dawn sang strangely then, plain noises that held no meaning to nearly all of the assembled birds. From off the back of the falcon that stood near him a strange crawler climbed out from were it had been partly hidden under feathers and slid down off the falcon awkwardly to stand erect on two feet. The crawler was small compared to most birds and unimpressive, but incredibly odd.

"What is that strange crawler?" sang a finch.

"It's an Old One!" sang a thrush shrilly, the alarm in its voice plain.

Startled song erupted from hundreds of feathered throats, and several birds edged further away from Kate. "Old One! Old One!" Many raised voices showed fear, but curiosity was stronger still, as thousands of birds trained their attentions on the small, odd looking crawler that most of them were only just now noticing.

"Quiet! Quiet!" admonished Strike True. "Let Blue Dawn sing first, and tell how his quest fared."

Using plain language Blue dawn sang for several long minutes, of how Falcons had carried him south, of how he had seen the crows attacking the humans, of how the jays and falcons had rescued the humans, of becoming acquainted with the humans and their song, and of how humans had come to be on Aves.

Mate to Swift Wing translated some of Blue's report into Human language for Kate, but only a bare outline of it, as even Plain Song of birds was a much more efficient means communications than was human speech.

The gathered birds tried to listen quietly, but couldn't help squawking, whistling, and chirping on numerous occasions, as heads bobbed, wings stretched, and feet shuffled, while the astonishing tale unfolded. At several points members of the Council asked questions, and Blue had to amplify and explain particularly vexing concepts. The humans had things that moved without being alive? They had songs and ideas recorded for following generations to see and hear? They had boxes that produced song and scenes of things from memory? They rode in great homes that moved between twinkling stars? Many things that Blue understood easily were difficult for most of the Council members and the others gathered to comprehend. Blue's apprenticeship with Song Flame had rendered him uniquely capable of understanding many such things. At last, however, Blue thought that he had provided sufficient background to introduce Kate.

"I object," stated a Council woodpecker, "on the grounds that the Council is for songbirds, not crawlers. Does this crawler song or fly?"

"It flies only with help from birds or strange non-living things that they make, but it sings a Plain Song of its own making," replied Blue. "I believe it is too slow to learn good bird-song."

"Then we must understand its own Plain Song, if it is to sing with us," stated the thrush. The other Council birds nodded and chirped in agreement.

Blue nodded his head, and again sang, this time alternating between the plain language of the birds and the equivalent but much slower human words and phrases, though sung much faster than would humans. Kate realized that, astonishingly, Blue was teaching rudimentary Human language to thousands of birds, as he had previously done with Bob, Nod, and the falcons. She was very glad that she was recording all of this with her COM.

"These birds learn human song now," confirmed Mate to Swift Wing to her softly. "Smart birds like Blue will learn all; not so smart birds learn less."

It took close to half an hour, but the birds seemed to have an endless thirst for 'song'. At last Blue stopped singing, and Strike True hopped closer to Kate.

"Welcome to Song Wood, Kate human. I am Flock Leader Strike True, father of Blue Dawn. Welcome to the Great Council of songbirds. As you are friend to Blue Dawn, you are also friend to Strike True."

"Thank you, Flock Leader Strike True," Kate replied with a loud voice. "Blue Dawn and his friends and raptor allies saved my life. I am very happy to be here and to sing in friendship to all of you."

Strike True nodded his head and returned his attention to the Council. "Kate will sing to Council now. Sing about humans on Aves. Sing about Old Ones. Sing about Earth and birds on Earth. Sing about blackbirds. Sing about worms."

"I object still," sang the thrush, this time in the human language. "Plain song is good enough for raptors and crows, but this is a council for songbirds. Blue sang that humans have good song, though without words. I would hear such song first. Only those that sing may be heard at a Songbird Council."

Kate shrugged and fiddled with her COM. Then for the next half hour the sound of the Mozart Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major filled the glen. Thousands of giant birds silently listened, transfixed by every alien sounding note and passage.

When it was finished, thousands of birds sang their approval. "I drop my objection," conceded the thrush. "Good song. Slow, simple, plain, but very good. Many humans made this song, using many instruments? I count 42 separate sources of song."

"Yes. Many humans must work together to make such music," Kate acknowledged.

"It is good, for humans to have song called music," added the thrush. "As many humans are needed to make music, they must work very hard and closely together to make such song. I conclude that song must be very important to humans."

"Yes, it is," agreed Kate.

There were squawks and nods of approval from the other birds.

"Now Kate, sing about humans," said Strike True.

Painfully aware that she was acting as spokesperson for all humanity, Kate carefully outlined the discovery of Aves and what humans were doing and why. She held nothing back, including descriptions of the deadly strife that happened between birds and humans for the first two years, and the more recent cooperation of the blackbirds with humans.

She told also of the deep mystery regarding the origins the birds on Aves; as Aves birds were copies of small birds on Earth, and her suspicion that long ago the Old Ones, not humans, brought life from Earth to Aves and changed it for reasons unknown to be huge, compared to life on Earth. She told them that she was on a quest for a great council of humans on Earth that wished to learn the truth about Aves and its birds.

The silently listening birds became highly agitated when she told of the monster worms. "It is the Scourge!" sang an excited woodpecker. "The humans have brought the Scourge!"

"Perhaps they have caused it to happen now, but it was here on Aves long before humans and even birds," sang Blue. "They did not bring it. Further, if what they have done has caused the Scourge to now come, they did not knowingly do this. The humans and their food were attacked by Scourge."

"That is true," said Kate. "We humans want to stop the worms. They are our common enemy. We should be allies to fight them together."

"I agree," sang the thrush. "Consider, that if humans are not the Old Ones, they did not know of the Scourge. Only birds of Aves knew. The humans have done great harm, but out of ignorance. Yet they are at fault. They should now be held accountable and help keep the Great Balance."

"Perhaps then the Scourge is a plan of the blackbirds," suggested the goldfinch.

"No," said Kate. "The blackbirds saved humans by attacking the worms. That was strange, if they are our enemies."

"Perhaps not so strange," sang Strike True. "Perhaps that is why most of the Black Flock flew south. Perhaps they have done so to attack the Scourge. All birds must fight Scourge when it is seen. Perhaps they would do their duty to kill the worms, but to also keep the food they share with the humans for themselves."

"Perhaps," sang Blue, but he sang of doubt in sub-frequencies.

"Perhaps this is the New Order they sing of," sang Strike True. "Humans and blackbirds sharing the world. A world without songbirds."

"Almost correct, jay," sang a deep voice. Several jays scrambled from their perches on a nearby holly tree to make room for a huge owl that swept down from the shadowy forest.

"Red Claw," exclaimed several songbirds nervously. Kate was herself unnerved as the largest living raptor she had ever seen landed close to where she stood. The great horned owl was mostly shades of brown and tan but it was also spattered with much red blood. In one huge set of talons it carried a grackle that appeared to be in much worse shape than itself.

"Red Claw, Red Claw, Red Claw," acknowledged the other raptors present, from the sky above and the surrounding forest.

"I sing for the raptors and the Raptor Council," announced the great owl, in human.

"We welcome you in peace, great one," said a Council woodpecker nervously. No objections rose that the raptor was not a songbird.

"Of what would you sing?" asked Strike True.

"Of blackbird treachery and of the Scourge," replied Red Claw, who turned her full attention to Kate.

"You sing human song very well," noted Blue, who knew that he had not included the word 'treachery' in his recent lesson. "How is this so?"

"I have not seen a human until now, Blue. I learned human song from this sorry creature." He shook the grackle slightly, and Kate saw it lift its head and look at her, as the owl also studied her openly. "Ugly, but not very frightening, humans are. And evidently very puny."

"They are clever," said Blue.

"Yes, they are very clever," agreed the owl. "I do not mean to sing unkindness, human, but we birds see things differently from your kind. What is your name? Do you speak for the humans, small one?"

"My name is Kate. I am not a human leader, but I do my best to speak for humans, as I am the only human here."

Red Claw nodded. "It is good, that birds and humans sing together at last. Too much fighting, too much death. Too much raptor food wasted. Killing should only be for food. Wars are bad for all, even though sometimes they can't be avoided."

"Wars are bad, bad, bad," sang several of the Council birds in agreement.

"You carry a box that saves song and sight," stated the owl, nodding towards Kate's COM unit. "Does it save what we now sing, to show other humans?"

"Yes," responded Kate in surprise. The intelligence and insight of these creatures was astonishing.

"Good," replied Red Claw. "Then save for human ears and eyes what the one you call 'Blackie' sings now."

Blackie? From Spaceport City? Kate tried to identify the battered, blood covered grackle that Red Claw held in front of her, but couldn't.

"Sing, blackbird," commanded Red Claw, as she shook roughly the blackbird that she held in her terrible talons. "Tell them what you told me, and maybe you will live, for now. Use human song."

"Too late, raptor," croaked the blackbird. "The New Order comes, and you will all die, songbirds and humans, and even raptors."

"Humans are to die?" asked Blue. This was something new! "Explain."

"The Black Flock flies now against the humans. In the third coming morning all the humans will be dead and all the food they grow will be ours. Humans will also be our food! Worms and humans die, and blackbirds will eat well, and be too strong and many for songbirds or raptors to stop."

"In only a little more than two days?" asked Kate, in disbelief.

"So sings Black Heart," hissed the grackle. "He leads the Black Flock against the humans and the worms. The humans will all come to the fields in early morning, as is his plan. Stupid humans!"

"Why kill us?" asked Kate. "Humans and birds have been helping each other."

"Why not, stupid human? Humans are no longer needed. Blackbirds have learned how to plant seeds for food and to clear away forests. Blackbirds will finish what the humans have started. All of this world will become a world of grain for blackbirds. A blackbird world. Those few birds that we let survive will only serve as our slaves and our food."

"More humans will come," said Kate.

"Perhaps," replied Blackie, "but not many and not soon. Most spaceships of humans are on Aves now, and there will soon be no humans to fly them home."

"You will fail, black one," stated Strike True. "In the south the blackbirds will fail, as you have failed here."

"I have not failed here," sang the blackbird. "I was to stay behind and occupy the attention of our enemies and weaken them, and this I have done. It is now too late for you to do anything against our plan. Jays cannot fly so swiftly from here to stop it, and are too few even if they could. The raptors also are too few. I have succeeded very well."

"He is right," said Red Claw. "The Black Flock is too strong and flies a day ahead of us, and for most of us it is too far to fly in two days and three nights anyway, at least by third morning."

"It is not too far for us," sang Swift Wing.

"Yes, my sweet," agreed Mate to Swift Wing. "But not even all the falcons here could worry the Black Flock. And besides that, it is not clear that we should interfere. Perhaps it would be best for Aves if the blackbirds and the humans destroy each other."

"Yes," agreed a woodpecker. "Perhaps the Black Flock will be too weak to attack us if they attack the humans first. Also, the humans destroy the forest."

"I see no solution to save the humans," sang Red Claw. "The humans will be blackbird food in two days, and we are powerless to prevent it. What remains of the Black Flock will then return to finish the Council and any others that stand against them. Perhaps, if we can rally the raptors and all songbirds, we will win a second time, but it will be a battle far worse than today's battle, and it will come too late to save the humans."

"Far worse still will be the revenge of the humans, if what the blackbirds plan does take place," said Kate firmly. "The grackle is right, it will take time for more humans to arrive from Earth, a year or more perhaps, but there are many more hungry humans on Earth than there are birds on Aves. Humans will come to Aves again, but when they come it will not be as farmers of food and loggers of trees. Human warriors will come seeking vengeance as destroyers with weapons of death so terrible you can not imagine them. Humans have weapons that could kill all birds here in Song Wood in a moment. I would not be surprised if in their anger they were to kill all the birds of Aves."

"Do you speak of fire-sticks?" asked Swift Wing. "Even the raptors avoid humans because of fire sticks."

"Fire sticks, or guns, are only very small human weapons, they are not true weapons of war for humans. Humans have weapons of war powerful enough to destroy entire forests full of bird life. They could strike like thunder and destroy all of Song Wood in a flash of fire as hot as the suns. They could poison the air you breathe and the water you drink. They could make sound so loud and terrible that it kills you. They could make you all sick and die without even coming near you, all of you, and then take what is left of Aves after you are gone forever."

"We are not hatchlings, to be frightened by mere song," sang the goldfinch, though he was shaking with fear.

"I sing the truth," replied Kate. "Most humans do not like war, but there are always some humans, like your crow and grackle leaders, that want war, are ready for war, like to kill, and will take advantage of war to do so and to take for themselves what they have not destroyed. Until now there has been some conflict between humans and birds, yes, but not all-out war. Humans have war machines that are more deadly than a thousand thousand crows. Attacking the humans on Aves would force humans on Earth to go to war against Aves birds. Here, I'll show you one weapon."

With her COM unit, she found and displayed an historical viewing of an early nuclear bomb test. The shocked birds watched an atomic blast devastate dummy houses and other buildings and produce a titanic mushroom cloud that soon towered over the desert landscape. "Humans keep these weapons only for emergencies now, but in their anger could use them here to kill all birds.

"But if war can be stopped now and the humans saved, and it is understood on Earth that birds on Aves are intelligent and friendly, then your voice in the great councils of Earth will be strong. Earth will still need food from Aves, but Earth humans will work with you to get it. You will learn much from us and we will learn much from you. If instead the humans are attacked and killed, it will make no difference that you are intelligent. You will be seen to be dangerous enemies, and even more dangerous because of your intelligence. They will have all the reasons they need to go to war and destroy you all."

"So then, to save the humans now would be to save ourselves," concluded Blue.

"That is what I believe," agreed Kate.

"There is also the problem of the Scourge," said Strike True. "If we birds war among ourselves, who will stop the Scourge? If the Scourge is not stopped, there will be no forest or birds for humans to war against. The Scourge will destroy all."

"So say the old songs," agreed the thrasher song master.

Blue turned an eye towards Blackie, who was still held in the harsh grip of Red Claw. "Blackbirds also hate Scourge. What does your master Black Heart sing of the Scourge, grackle?"

"We will kill the humans before the Scourge strikes, than kill the worms. Nothing can stop us."

"Are you sure of that? How big are the worms?" asked Blue.

"I can show you how big they were a few days ago." said Kate. She again unfolded her portable COM screen and positioned the proper data cube into it. In a short time the Council was seeing and hearing monster worms attacking humans and grackles attacking worms. The frenzied birds destroyed the smaller worms, but the larger worms mostly fed on the blackbirds, rather than the other way around. Hundreds of grackles died. The largest worms didn't seem to be bothered by the blackbirds at all.

The birds watched, transfixed by the carnage being shown. Death screams of humans and birds filled the air. At last it was over.

"Here is a memory of a great human nesting place on Earth," said Kate, as she displayed New York City. The view zoomed in on a busy street teaming with thousands of people and vehicles, then zoomed out to show hundreds of buildings that towered higher than the great trees of Aves. "This is only one of hundreds of such places. The weapon I showed you can destroy such a place and kill all life."

The huge owl was first to break the shocked silence that followed. "I believe your song, human," sang Red Claw. "The worms will soon grow too large for birds or humans to stop them. I also believe your song of other things. Killing humans now would mean war with humans later. There must be humans beyond counting on the Earth world where great flying ships can be made, and great weapons are very possible for creatures as clever as humans. We must seek human friendship and not human wrath. No, killing the few humans here on Aves would not be good. But I see no way to stop the Black Flock in time to save the humans. By my reckoning most of us would arrive several hours too late, except for perhaps a small handful of our very swiftest fliers."

"Perhaps there is still hope," sang Blue. "I have a plan."

****

CHAPTER 18

WORMS THREATEN

Mark Helmins shook his head in incomprehension and handed the report to the Dr. Ed Dreshman, who sat to the right of him at a round conference table. Preparing for the harvest was an immense effort. Helmins had an intense headache, and this interruption by the young geologist who now sat nervously in front of his desk wasn't helping. If this man didn't have a reputation for incredible brilliance, he wouldn't have been granted an audience and his report would have been funneled through normal channels. Within a few days he and Dreshman would have gotten the report anyway.

At times like this, Helmins wished that and his top men were fitted with COM implants. It would go against the senseless edicts that required low technology on new worlds, but he and the Corporation could have gotten past that. Instead, he had opted against it. This was a small human community that lacked the fast-paced back-stabbing, competitive bullshit of an Earth assignment. Usually. COM implants and other technologies weren't needed; or so he had thought. Right now they would have come in handy.

"Get to the point, Doctor Lexter. We've been recording seismic activity since we landed on Aves. What's so interesting about these recent read-outs?" He dropped the report on the table in front of Lexter. It was printed on paper, a substance they had in abundance on Aves, but had been out of fashion for many decades, given the near extinction of trees on Earth. Synthetic paper could be produced, of course, but it was almost as expensive as synthetic body parts. Printed paper was still however, an excellent means of conveying information that you didn't want to be hacked and spread all over the data net. Its use was largely a security measure.

"Yes sir, of course." The young man fumbled through the report to a graph that showed seismic activity levels over the last four years. "Aves seismic activity has always been low, by Earth standards, but has been gradually increasing over the last three years, particularly in mid-summer. We felt that we would need longer term data to work out exactly what's happening."

"Tell me something I don't know; don't lecture me on basics," Helmins insisted. "I've read and approved every Aves science report that exists."

"Yes sir. The latest seismic activity correlates positively with brown-patch formation, as I reported yesterday. We are certain now that instead of normal Earth-like geologic activity we have mostly been recording worm movement."

"Also predictable, given what we've recently learned about the worms. And?"

"The areas of disturbance are expanding."

"Also to be expected, which is why we are moving up the harvest. We'll get the crops in before the damn worms do."

"Yes, but what this latest data suggests is a rapid expansion in their activities that goes far beyond the crop zones. I thought you should know."

"You mean beyond the fields themselves?"

"Yes."

Helmins shook his head in denial. "I think you exaggerate the situation. All incidents over the last three summers have been in crop areas."

"A temporary situation. If I am correctly interpreting the geological evidence, the worms are spreading too quickly to be contained within the field areas. I believe that the worms are the obvious explanation for a nearly total lack of sedimentary stratification on Aves."

"Yes, of course," Helmins agreed. "Many of us made that connection days ago when the worms were discovered. Worm activity over millions of years accounts for the thick soil layer on Ave."

The young man shook his head. "But I just realized the full significance today. We have been unable to find any stratification at all, no differences between ten meters down and a thousand meters down. For everywhere except the highest mountains the same situation applies. Don't you see what that implies?"

"Lots of monster worms for many millions of years, long before the Earth-like life got here."

"Yes, but it implies far more. Until approximately ten thousand Earth- years ago, over almost the entire land mass of Aves, the entire soil layer was completely stirred up regularly from top to bottom over a very short cycle period, geologically speaking. Probably over a single year, or at most over a very few years. It's a catastrophic phenomenon, not a constant or gradual one."

Helmins again shook his head. "Catastrophic? That's the same impossible crap that Frank Lambert came up with, though he didn't know the cause."

"And in my view we have to a high degree of certainty confirmed his findings. Lambert deduced that some unknown catastrophic agent had to be involved, an agent that he felt was now returning in successive summers, due to something that we colonists must have done, and that the event was increasing in intensity exponentially. The fact that the reoccurrence of this phenomenon coincides with our arrival on Aves simply can't be coincidental. After all, it has been roughly ten thousand years since the last previous catastrophic episode."

"And we have all maintained his theory to be nonsense," protested Helmins. "The past geological record has to be due to some massive, natural mechanisms that we have nothing to do with, since we just got here. Glaciations perhaps. We can't be triggering a geological catastrophe; we haven't changed this planet that much."

"But we haven't found a geological mechanism to explain the rapid, catastrophic mixing of soil. Now I hypothesize that the agent is biological."

Helmins' jaw dropped. "The worms? Throughout the entire land mass? All the soil of Aves disrupted by them, top to bottom for thousands of meters in depth, in a single year? Is that what you are suggesting?"

"Yes, that's it exactly."

"That's crazy. I could see them destroying a lot of crops, but you're talking about even more. You're saying that it will happen even here? In Spaceport City?"

"Everywhere except the mountains. Spaceport City certainly. There are now seismic indications that the worms are already below parts of this city. Everything is at risk; all towns, all forested areas planet-wide, even the spaceport itself. In my view, that's what the seismic data suggests, and it's the only hypothesis that fits with the lack of stratification observed."

"That's crazy. Thousands of meters of soil cycled planet-wide by those things in a single year?"

"That is indeed the worst case scenario, but it's the only one that matches all the data."

Helmins turned to Dr. Ed Dreshman, who had been sitting to the side quietly listening to the entire exchange. "Any thoughts, Ed?"

"It all fits together with the alien hypothesis, I believe. Roughly ten thousand years ago aliens reworked the entire ecology of Aves to their liking, creating forests and birds and so-forth and suppressing the native worm cycles. But they didn't totally do away with life below the surface of Aves. In reduced numbers stunted worms continued to live on, waiting for temperatures and food availability to be adequate. Now we've enabled the worms to re-establish themselves. They'll eat their way through everything, including us and everything we've built here."

Helmins shook his head. "Not the landing field, surely. The landing field is essentially a five-meter thick slab of fused quartz. No living creature could break through that!"

"We still don't know how big those things get," noted Lextor. "The worms that attacked today were even bigger than the ones that hit near New Saint Louis yesterday, and it's still only late mid-summer. If last year is any guide, the phenomenon will increase rapidly and won't peek for several weeks. Except that this year the phenomenon is orders of magnitude greater in amplitude than it was last year. Judging from the exponential rate of growth exhibited, this year will probably be the cataclysmic year."

Helmins shook his head in denial. "But why would they come here to the town or to the landing field? There isn't any crop for them to eat here. Surely such massive creatures require sustenance on a huge scale."

Lextor shrugged. "I'm a geologist, not a soil biologist, but don't earthworms eat microscopic life in the soil? Maybe surface growth is mere icing on their cake, or maybe they need to surface periodically for other reasons, such as mating, once they are fully mature. But their main food source is obvious. We are sitting on thousands of meters of soil that is several percent living material. Thousands of years ago, native mushroom-like fungi thrived throughout the soil to great depths. They carried energy to those depths. We have recently found that the fungus is not extinct, but has still been gradually enriching the sub-soil for all these years. A huge worm bloom is long overdue. Roughly half the organic material near the surface is of Earth origin, I understand, and the other half is indigenous. Judging from their behavior, the worms thrive on both. In the areas we've farmed we've decreased the biomass by reducing the forest, but we've increased soil temperatures beyond some tipping point that triggers worm activity."

Helmins wracked his brain for reasons why this couldn't be happening. "But you are implying that the worms eat their way through the entire soil layer. Because of lower gravity, soil here is much less compacted than is Earth soil, but I still find it impossible to comprehend how any living thing could plow through soil thousands of meters deep."

Lextor shrugged. "Like the Earth-like life here on Aves the worms are made of stronger materials. The biologists are working on such questions, but right now the biological science that explains exactly how they do it is of secondary importance. We've seen them do it, so we know that they can. Our geological data has already identified the magnitude of the problem and predicted the limit of its progression. Our data shows that there are worms throughout the soil, from top to bottom, and they are rapidly growing and spreading, now that surface temperatures have finally reached the point for them to swarm. Maybe it's similar to cicada or locust swarming on Earth."

"If you're right, when do you think we can expect them to attack the rest of the crops and the city?"

"There isn't enough data to estimate accurately, but the data shows alarming growth. Within days, perhaps. Within two weeks, certainly."

"I agree," added Dreshman. "The data is clear."

Helmins sat back in his chair, at last defeated. He had to accept the situation, he had no choice. "Shit. We need at least two weeks to get most of the crops in, even if we start in only a couple of days. We're already started chemically accelerating maturation for an early harvest, but harvesting this early this will mean 10% crop-loss and a non-organic product designation. That's billions of credits lost off the top, and from what you're telling me that's a best case scenario that we probably can't meet."

"We can only do the best we can, sir," noted the young geologist. Dreshman nodded in agreement.

Helmins smiled for a moment, and shook Lextor's hand. "Good job." It made no sense to burden Lextor with all this, the big picture was his own burden. This harvest had to succeed or the Aves colonization effort and his career would be demolished. "I've called another meeting of the full science council and security for this evening. We are going to discuss worm control strategies for use in the fields. How to protect workers and that sort of thing. Some of the farm crew is sitting in. Perhaps you should attend also."

"Do you want me to present my findings to them?" Lextor asked.

"Has anyone else seen this data?"

"No, only the two of you, myself, and George, my technician."

"Good. Don't even come then. I don't want to start a panic, so don't disclose this data to anyone else yet. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"The last thing we need is a panic."

"Of course."

"We have to be able to track these things accurately, and predict attacks. That's your highest priority now. The harvest has to be successful. We can disclose everything after the harvest."

"We're on it. Of course more attacks will have to take place for us to collect the requisite data to accurately predict additional attacks."

"Requisite data? Within a couple of days the whole farm workforce will start harvesting, working double shifts during the cooler hours. I'm afraid there will soon be more data on attacks than you need."

"I fear so also, sir. Yet as you say, the harvest must go on. There is nothing else we can do, is there?"

"No, there isn't. Get back to work then, Lexter."

"Yes sir," the young geologist said, as he exited the room.

Dreshman stood and also slowly exited the room. He and a select handful of other scientists focused on the alien issue but had accomplished very little. Except for the unmistakable fact of Earth origins and genetic re-design for the Earth-like Aves inhabitants, no evidence of aliens had been found on Aves. Now there was further indirect evidence to consider. Were the giant birds established here to combat the giant worms? Giant birds to eat giant worms? That seemed too much a cliché to be true. Maybe the aliens had a sense of humor.

A short time later, at the request of Helmins, a third guest visited him. Instead of wearing a Corporation orange, green, or red outfit designed for the heat and humidity of Aves, this tall, thin, angular man wore only black, from his boots to his wide-brimmed hat. How the Brethren could stand dressing this way all year in the heat and humidity of Aves, Helmins couldn't fathom. On the other hand, the color of their clothes apparently appealed to the grackles. The blackbirds refused to talk directly with anyone else.

"Brother Martin, thank you for coming."

"Always my pleasure, Doctor." They shook hands.

"Have you contacted our feathered friends?"

"Yes, at long last, through God's grace. They've been rather busy, but I spoke with their leader this morning."

"The lead grackle? That one that the Port staff calls Blackie?"

"No, Blackie wasn't available. I spoke with his leader. A crow. Quite an impressive fellow, and a true believer."

"A crow? I've been on Aves for three-and-a-half Aves-years I don't believe I've ever even seen a crow."

"They're rather shy, but I gather that they're pretty much the top rung when it comes to Aves bird society. This crow claims that he controls all the blackbirds on the planet, including crows and grackles."

"All of them? That is impressive. Do the crows agree with our grackle treaty?"

"Of course. It turns out that the grackles are mere middle men, so to speak. We've actually been dealing with the crows all along."

"Really? Why have the crows stayed in the background?"

"Like I say, they're rather shy, and cautious as well. My notion is that they didn't trust us at the start. Remember, we were eating quite a few birds at the time."

"We can figure out bird psychology later. What did he tell you about the worms?"

"That they were as surprised by the worm attacks as we were. They have legends of these things, centuries old stories sung from generation to generation, but they've not seen worms of this size for many generations of bird verbal history."

"And you believe him?"

"They never lied to us before, that I can tell, and I have no reason to disbelieve them now."

"No reason? They're supposed to be our partners. This is their world, so they must have known of the threat. Why didn't they warn us about this earlier?"

"Warn us of their ancient legends? Perhaps it would be like us warning them about the boogie-man. But no, the real answer lies in their lack of the true religion until now. Through the Brethren have they learned of both God and Satan, such that now they are able to know that which is of Satan. The worms from hell are devil spawn, of course."

Helmins sighed. He had found from previous discussions with Brethren members that it was better not to get into any useless discussions of religious matters with them. "Will there be yet more attacks?"

"They think so, but details on how the worms operate have been lost over the centuries."

"Great. Will his birds again attack the worms when they surface?"

"Some of my followers witnessed their frenzied attacks on the worms. The birds seem compelled by God to attack the worms on sight. Hundreds of these birds of God have died fighting those monster worms of Satan."

"No doubt saving human lives in the process."

"Some of your men say that saving humans is incidental, that all birds simply seem compelled to attack the monster worms on sight, through some quirk of bird biology or psychology. But nothing is accidental in the World, all is but part of a divine plan. Like us, these birds were sent by God. That is also why these birds contacted the Brethren, of course; even their primitive souls could sense our special link with God, as they must to some degree be linked to God also. We and the birds have a destiny on this planet, a destiny chosen by God that won't be denied. The birds are compelled, yes, but they are compelled by God."

Or by another mystery of bird psychology that can be put aside for now, Helmins thought but didn't bother to voice. He didn't understand his black cloaked human allies any better than he understood his feathered allies, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now except the only thing that had ever mattered: getting the crop in. "Did you tell the crow of our plan to pick the crops early?"

"Yes. He seemed pleased. He said he would himself lead a great flock of blackbirds to watch over our workers. Within two days he promised to provide more than ten crows and grackles for every human, praise the Lord."

"Excellent. These crows are rather large birds, I take it."

"Yes, much larger than grackles. The leader must mass well over a thousand kilos. They should be even more effective against the worms than the grackles are."

"Good. That will provide some measure of safety, at least. Did the crow say anything else of note?"

"Yes, two things. First, that in response to your request the blackbirds are already searching for our missing Sheriff and biologist."

"Good. Frankly, we can't afford the manpower to do it ourselves. Not that we're in any hurry to find that pair of trouble makers." Actually with the harvest being accelerated he wanted Deborg to join his science staff as soon as possible. She would provide some political cover when the Star Corporation went public about bird sentience. She had surprised him so far. He had expected her to abandon Weltman within days of meeting that worthless drunkard. Subsequently he had certainly expected her to eagerly accept the offer that George Keto had conveyed to her. Instead she refused it. The woman was unpredictable and possibly in league with that trouble-maker Captain Jack. He should have had the Space Directorate send one of the Corporation operatives that secretly worked in the Directorate to Aves, instead of a junior scientist that was assumed to be malleable.

"Second, at dawn in two days the crow leader wants to meet with you, myself, the Governor, and all Aves humans that can be made available, in the large field just north of town," the Brethren leader continued.

"The crow wants to meet with all humans? Why?"

"He knows very well that I only lead the Brethren. I got the feeling that he wants to meet his human counterparts in person, as well as present himself and his followers to the human public at large. I gather that it's good politics for him among his own followers as well."

"Very well; I had been thinking of holding some sort of get together soon to kick-off the harvest anyway." Also, at last he would be able deal directly with the blackbird leadership without having to go through Brother Martin. He didn't fully trust religious zealots. "We'll have most of our security forces with us though. I hope he'll understand that."

"He will. In fact, he made a point of inviting as many humans as possible, including those with weapons. He thinks it will improve human/bird relations for us all to see the bird leader and the human leaders cooperating together."

"It might at that. Very well. Fully sentient birds will come as quite a shock to some, but that cat is soon fully out of the bag anyway. As long as we can keep it from leaking to Earth for a couple more weeks we should be fine. We'll make a public ceremony of it, and use the meeting to kick off the harvest. But it will have to be a short meeting. We all have a lot of work to do. How many birds will come?"

Brother Martin smiled. "The crow will bring enough followers to convince humans that he speaks for them all, I suppose. Hundreds, perhaps thousands."

Only after Brother Martin had left him did another question occur to Helmins. An odd and disturbing one. When they got here, what would so many blackbirds eat?

****

CHAPTER 19

PREPARATIONS

Lt Frank Jackson slammed his fist down on his boss's big wooden desk. "That's pure crazy! The big lasers, the few of them we have, OK; it makes sense for trained security personnel to carefully use them on the biggest worms. But giving machine guns and our extra small arms over to untrained civilians is a recipe for disaster. Besides, small-scale projectile weapons are only effective on the smallest of worms, the same ones the birds can handle with no problem. The farmers will shoot themselves up and shoot us up as much as they shoot worms, or just as bad, they'll shoot some birds. Do you want to have both the worms and the birds attacking us? Either way, we're worse off."

"The workers want to be armed, or they won't go out there to pick crops," replied Zeke Thomas. "Thanks to your buddy Tiny and some other loudmouths, everyone knows we've lost over fifty people in the last two days."

"That could never be covered up in the first place, Zeke, not for a single day. You were crazy to try. The people we lost all had friends and family, and this is a small community. Practically everyone on Aves knew what really happened within an hour or two."

Zeke's cheeks were becaming puffed up and red. "The bottom line is this: the Corporation wants to keep this situation under control. This is a Corporation run planet. You and everyone else simply need to follow orders. Corporation orders. My orders!

"No, the real clincher is this: during both attacks the birds wouldn't join in until we humans put away our weapons. Bring out the guns, and we'll have no bird help. When the blackbirds see all those yahoos with guns they won't help, and I won't blame them. I'm going to be terrified myself of guns in the hands of untrained, scared to death civilians. Why, most of them have never even seen a gun!

"And without the birds, we have no chance against the worms. The birds are a hell of a lot more effective than small arms fire. I've seen two attacks; I know what I'm saying. The best tactic is for our workers to run out of the way at the first sign of worms and let us professionals and the birds do our jobs. We'll try to selectively use the lasers on the bigger worms without scaring off the birds."

"Wrong. You have your orders. Now carry them out."

"That's your answer to everything, isn't it Zeke, no matter how stupid the order is. Or maybe you simply can't tell when an order is stupid."

Zeke Thomas shook his head and sneered, his red face and shifty eyes bulging. "How long have you worked for the Corporation, Jackson?"

"Three years."

"And before that you were a damn Government cop."

"I was a damn good, REAL cop."

"Working in a hell-hole of an Earth city for close to minimum wage."

"Your point being?"

"Your job here is to follow Corporation orders as I give them to you. Period. Now get to work or get fired."

Steaming, Frank stomped out of the security office and to the nearby gun impalement where the last set of the twin 13MM machine-guns were already being removed by Tiny and Captain Jack.

"I don't suppose Zeke listened to reason," said the Captain.

"Not a word. Stupidity doesn't need reason."

"You did what you could. If I had weighed in, it would have only been worse. You know what Zeke and I think of each other."

"Yeah, sure Captain, I know." He helped Tiny and Jack carry the heavy machine guns to Jack's jeep. Probably half of all such weapons in existence were on Aves, as they were outlawed nearly everywhere else in the Federation. "Well, at least I've tried to get the bigger guns to the most responsible folks, mostly old-timers like you guys. By the way, mounting those things on the back of your truck is a good idea. I'm going to do that with the lasers."

"I don't like it," said Tiny. "We're setting up our biggest weapons to cover only surface targets. We got nothing left in case of bad birds. There's still eagles and jays out there someplace, and I for one sure as hell still don't trust the blackbirds."

"The blackbirds have proven themselves once and for all these last two days, by fighting the worms," said Jackson. "That's the Corporation line, anyway."

"And I still don't like it," said Tiny. "Sheriff John said he'd never trust them. Say, Did you ask Zeke about the Sheriff and Kate? We sure as hell need them now."

"I didn't have to. First thing he did was reiterate to me that all search efforts have been suspended."

"And have they?" asked Captain Jack.

"You know better. I've got Mike over at OPs reviewing satellite images, and Sally and George searching the woods north of where we last saw them."

"Good."

"You know how their chances add up though, Jack. They were obviously blown far from humanized territory, deep into hostile, bird-controlled forest. Nobody comes back from beyond the outback."

"Sure, I can do the math. Kate couldn't have a better guide and protector, though. John knows as much about fighting off birds and bugs as any man alive. If anyone can get them out of any jam they're in, it's John Weltman."

****

John Weltman smiled and shook his head in disbelief, than lobbed the grapefruit-sized acorn back to Bob, who caught it expertly in his beak and tossed it to Nod. Somehow today's language lesson had stumbled onto the subject of games. As it turned out, 'playing catch' was one the few games that were common to both humans and birds. So here he was, playing catch with a couple of giant jays. Unbelievable!

He had to admit that once he had gotten used to them, these jays were OK. Of course, the fact that they had saved Kate and him was a huge factor, but beyond that he had to admit he was beginning to actually like them. They were playful and clever, with tremendous curiosity and intelligence. Their hearing and eyesight were uncanny, allowing them to find his downed aircraft almost immediately, halfway up in the forest canopy. As shown by their ability to untangle it from its resting place and carry it down to the ground gently, their strength was superhuman. Each of these jays must have been ten times as strong as he was.

Not that the demolished aircraft did him much good. He retrieved food and drugs, but the COM gear was smashed. The rest was a hopeless tangle of bent, broken, and torn parts. He had the big birds place it in a small clearing however, where perhaps satellites could identify it from above, greatly increasing the probability of rescue. If they were watching now, the Corporation satellite team would also be able to see him playing catch with two jays. What would they make of that?

"Your friend Blue seems to be very intelligent," he remarked.

"Yes, yes," nodded Nod.

"Has he always been your leader?"

"No. Only for a few days, by Freedom of Flight. It is a great quest he is on. Jays, all songbirds, have great need now, but none have greater need for our help than him. Blue Dawn is a great leader in great need. We chose to help him by Freedom of Flight."

"He's only been your leader for a few days?"

"Yes."

"But you knew him before that, right?"

"No. Blue Dawn was a stranger jay."

"Stranger?"

"Stranger to our flock, our forest. We met him for the first time a few days ago."

"Yet you trust him?"

"Trust him? He is jay."

"And jays tell the truth?"

"Yes. Sometimes jays are wrong, but always they try to sing what is true. That is Law. Except when joking in play, to not sing what is true is not possible for a jay."

Bob chirped for a moment, than both birds squawked shrilly, a sound that by now Weltman recognized as laughter. Nod, her jaws convulsing uncontrollably, dropped the acorn they had been playing with to the ground.

"What's so funny?" the intrigued human asked.

"Sorry," said Bob. "You worry for Kate. You like Kate, we think."

Weltman took a deep breath. He might as well admit to himself that he more than 'liked' her. He hadn't been consciously looking for that, but now he couldn't escape it. "Yes, I do. Very much." And yet he had let her go off on a dangerous quest with a jay and raptors!

"You don't trust Blue?"

"I worry about Kate."

"But you humans have been close to blackbirds for more than two season-cycles, and trust blackbirds."

"Yes, it seems that way."

The two jays laughed again.

"Is that funny?"

"Yes," said Nod, throwing the acorn to the human. "You trust blackbirds! Is funny! Humans are very funny." She laughed.

Bob explained. "It is an old song, all songbirds learn as chicks, that the bird who trusts blackbirds will be soon blackbird food!" Bob laughed, and even Weltman laughed briefly. Personally he had never trusted blackbirds. Now his concerns were verified by jays that he had long feared more than any other birds. He could appreciate the irony. He didn't like the implications though. If the blackbirds were such nasty pieces of work, why were they helping humans?

"It is good," declared Nod, "that humans can laugh."

"Humans be poor singers, but good laughers," teased Bob.

Suddenly, both jays became silent and attentively looked up into the patch of blue sky over the tiny clearing they were in.

"What is it?" asked Weltman. "Blackbirds?"

"Kreeeeee!" The entire patch of open sky above them was abruptly filled with the biggest golden eagle John had ever seen, screaming as it dropped talons-first at him with startling speed.

"Yellow Claw," exclaimed Bob, as he and his mate hopped towards Weltman. They were at his side in moments, but Yellow Claw was there before them.

"You were there," screamed the Eagle, as one set of its great talon-tipped toes wrapped around the startled Sheriff and lifted him off the ground. Weltman pushed and squirmed, to absolutely no effect. The claws held him firmly, yet did not crush him. Instead the bird bent it's wickedly beaked head down to stare at her tiny human captive with cup-sized eyes and to scream some more in plain language. "You were one of the Old Ones that killed my son. To fulfill my bargain with them the blackbirds told me where to look for you. I wish you could understand why you will die now!"

Bob and Nod, also screaming, launched themselves at the towering Eagle but the immense creature effortlessly swept them away with one of its huge wings.

"No," squeaked a tiny voice in plain language, "John be friend to birds!" Brownie fluttered in front of the eagle's face. Yellow Claw struck out at him with her deadly beak, and the little bird barely managed to dodge out of reach.

"So, tiny one, the blackbirds were right," said the Eagle in plain language to Brownie. "You escaped them also. They told me to search here for this human and his small flying machine so that I may gain my revenge as they had promised me, but I did not expect to find you with him. If it is true that you can sing with Old Ones, tell this one I hold why I will kill him now." The tiny bird flew down to where Weltman was held and pecked at the eagle's talons with its sharp beak, but the eagle appeared not to even notice.

"Tell him yourself," sang Nod. "We could teach you to speak his language, then you could insult and tease him before you kill him. You waited this long; wouldn't it be worth waiting a little longer so that your enemy knows that your cause is just before you kill him? Only then would your revenge be complete."

"We learned their song quickly, you can learn it too, great one," added Bob. "Unless perhaps you are not as smart as jays?"

"Mock me no more jays, if you would have this Old One live long enough to hear me sing to it, or yourselves live long enough to teach me its song. Sing its song to me now."

From the moment he saw the huge raptor dropping down from the sky at him, Sheriff John Weltman knew that he was a dead man. This gigantic monster was the most powerful predator on Aves, as powerful as half a dozen Earth T-rex dinosaurs. Within moments he would be crushed, torn apart, and in this monster's belly, being mashed to mush by the rocks in its gizzard.

The jays came to his aid. At first he had hoped that the jays would distract it and cause it to drop him, but then he saw them fail and quickly give up their attack.

He couldn't blame them. This dinosaur-sized raptor was far too powerful for them. Yellow Claw, they had called it. So, this was the rogue eagle that had betrayed Blue and Brownie to the blackbirds. Now it had him, and he would die. Then what would happen to Kate? Of course what would happen to Kate was out of his hands anyway. He had failed her, himself, and everyone else. What a fool he had been to have the aircraft placed in a clearing, where sharp blackbird or raptor eyes could see it!

He was still alive, though. Why? The birds were talking to each other, he realized, the jays and the Eagle. What could it mean? Then he heard the jays speak human language. He thought at first that they had to be talking to him, but he couldn't understand what they were trying to say. Human words, then bird talk, then human words again, and again, and again, at incredible speed. It sounded like high-speed gibberish.

Suddenly he realized that Bob and Nod were teaching human speech to the eagle! "Tell the eagle she's squeezing me too hard," he gasped. "I can't breathe."

The jays never paused their jabbering to the eagle, but the giant bird loosened its grip on him slightly, such that he could breathe more freely.

"Son-of-a-bitch," John muttered. Then he tried to figure out what he would tell this eagle, if he got the chance. Whatever it was, it had better be good.

****

"As foretold, we shall all go to the fields in the morning, every man, woman and child of us," preached Brother Martin to his congregation. "There we shall bear witness as God smites evil."

"Amen," chanted his congregation in response. The entire church was filled with all the Brethren of Aves.

"We shall ALL wear black, so that ALL who look upon us may know that we are of the Brethren of God, each and every one of us."

"Amen."

"And HE shall send forth his avenging angels, the birds that wear the black of our order, and they shall wipe away all that is unclean from the face of this new Earth," he shouted, "sparing only the true believers."

"AMEN," they shouted.

"And the children of our Lord, man and bird, shall inhabit all of this new Earth, our new Eden. Shout hallelujah!"

"Hallelujah!"

"Shout hallelujah!"

"Hallelujah!"

"Shout hallelujah!"

"Hallelujah!"

"Go now, my brethren, and prepare yourself for a new day, and the New Order."

Brother Martin smiled. Only he among the Brethren knew exactly what was coming. The bird called Black Heart had told him that the Brethren's prophesy of the new Eden was coming to pass. Come unarmed and dressed in black, he had said, and the Brethren would be saved from all evil.

"What of the other humans?" he had asked.

"We cannot save all. We can save only the pure, only the Brethren," Black Heart replied. "It is God's judgment day for the others."

Brother Martin nodded in understanding. He had expected something like this all of his life, and now it was finally happening. Armageddon!

Brother Martin made his way to a church back room where a rope-bound prisoner was being closely guarded by two of his most trusted deacons. The man has dressed in red and green; he had been forced to surrender the black garments of the Order.

Tied firmly to a chair, the man didn't look very threatening, but looks could be deceiving, Brother Martin knew. Josh had been discovered spying on several people, using electronic tools of Satan. It had taken a dozen strong men to overpower him. He was someone's highly trained operative; the Corporation probably, or the Government. Worse, he was a blasphemer. "I give you one last chance to save your body and soul, Josh Whitcomb. Who do you work for and why are you here?"

"I can tell you this much," replied Whitcomb. "The Brethren are not my mission. Your betrayal of the other colonists is not really my concern. Destruction of the colony would be a set-back, but not a game-changer in the larger scheme of things. Your communications with the birds is what I was sent here to exploit."

Martin picked up the COM unit that sat on the table next to the prisoner. "You were using this to spy on people, including me."

And it hadn't been easy, Whitcomb reflected. He was spying on Deborg and several key Corporation people, in addition to bugging Martin and several other Brethren. None of them knew much. He had spied on Deborg during the flight to Aves and found her to be totally ignorant. The key, if there was one, was the birds. "Of course. We've been through all of this before. My mission is simple. I'm looking for alien technology. The birds you communicate with can help me find it. The survival of humanity may depend on our ability to assimilate alien technology hidden somewhere on this planet."

Brother Martin shook his head. "Technology is never the answer, my son. Aves is a gift from God to humanity. God made Aves what it is, not alien technology. You seek false idols, and you lie to us and yourself. Look deep into your soul to see past the petty scheming of mankind and find the truth."

"The truth is, if you help me work with your bird friends, I can see that you are well rewarded. In the meantime take over the planet with the crows, if you wish; that is of little consequence. Afterwards I can make you all rich, if you help me."

"You are a non-believer sent by the Devil to tempt and betray us. Confess and seek God's forgiveness and perhaps you will be spared His wrath."

Whitcomb sighed and shook his head. These people couldn't be reasoned with rationally. His bosses on Earth were right, Aves was a screwed up disaster. The damned Star Corporation was almost as incompetent as the Directorate, to let these cultist screwballs run rampant on Aves. He resumed his steady rubbing of the ropes that bound him. He felt another strand of rope fray and break. He was making progress. He was determined to escape before the blackbirds came for him.

Brother Martin said a short prayer for the man's soul and left with him still tied to the chair. He had done what he could. God's avenging blackbirds would soon have his body. God would decide what to do with his soul.

****

North of the human-cultivated lands, the Black Flock arrived and gathered. Tens of thousands of crows and grackles were there from all around the World. Many were very young birds from the Far South Forest, born locally within the last two cycles, but they were all hungry and dedicated to the cause of the New Order.

Tomorrow they would feed on both the humans and the Scourge. The jays and raptors, if any survived the battle at Song Wood, were too far away and too few to interfere. Tomorrow the New Order would be established. Fed by ever expanding fields of grain, the blackbird flock would then expand still more, until it covered the entire World. For a time they would keep the human Brethren as slaves and food, as they kept the cowbirds and starlings, but eventually all Old Ones would die, as would all birds but blackbirds.

Black Heart sat high in a great elm tree, surveying his great Black Flock, cawing in pleasure, and going over his plans. Despite minor setbacks, everything was falling into place. Most of the humans would gather in the fields at dawn. The worms wouldn't attack right away, they would appear later in the day, when it was hottest. Long before the worms come, his flock would kill and consume the humans.

Each puny human was to be surrounded by several blackbirds. Then he would signal the attack. The humans were even being nice enough to install sound systems that would allow him to easily signal the entire Flock when to attack.

All the armed humans were to die before they could effectively counter-attack. With most weapons captured by his blackbirds, any remaining humans would be helpless and would be quickly hunted down. Only the unarmed Brethren were to be temporarily spared, to aid in the use of human tools. Grain would be harvested and stored as planned by the humans, but instead of being shipped to Earth it would feed the Black Flock through the long Aves winter. In the spring they would expand the territory they controlled, and in three or four seasons they would control all of Aves,

The fact that during the first big worm attack Blackie had managed to hold his flock back from attacking the worms effectively until the humans put down their guns was extremely fortunate. They did the same thing the next day, and spoke of it to the Brethren. The humans were now certain that they needed to lay down their guns in order to get birds to come near enough to sing with them and to protect against worms. When they did that, they would be helpless to defend themselves against his blackbirds.

As a back-up plan, if the worms did came before his birds attacked the humans, the humans would take up their weapons and try to defend themselves. The human use of guns would help him restrain his Flock until the worms and Old Ones destroyed each other. Afterwards his great flock would consume what remained of both the Scourge and the humans. In some ways, this was the better alternative, since the great worms would be weakened in destroying the humans.

There was some risk however, that he would be unable to restrain his flock from attacking the worms, and that the combination of gun-wielding humans and worms would be dangerous to the Flock. Also, in the expected chaos many of the Brethren could be lost, though they were expendable. In the end however, it would all still come out the same, since the Black Flock was all-powerful. The blackbirds will reign supreme, and Black Heart will rule over all of Aves.

Black Heart laughed at the clever irony of it. He had learned much from the Brethren, including the human concept of slavery that he was establishing with sparrows and cowbirds and would soon use with the Brethren. He had learned about human guns and wars and petty rivalries. He had memorized revealing passages of the Bible that Blackie had sung to him over the last two years.

Humans were a curious mix of both sentimental nonsense and ruthlessness. Many humans lied and cheated. In short, they were far too much like blackbirds to tolerate. They were rivals. All of them, including eventually the Brethren, would have to die.

****

High above the forest two peregrine falcons flew steadily south, frequently shifting direction and altitude to catch the most favorable winds. Each great raptor carried a smaller, very unusual passenger: one a blue jay and the other a human. All worried about the impending disaster that they would soon try to stop, and the improbability of stopping it.

Blue worried most of all, as it was his plan that everything depended on, and his plan depended most of all on Song Flame's teachings to him about crows and about bird history.

****

CHAPTER 20

THE BATTLE FOR AVES

George Keto was exhausted. The Corporation, that is to say Mark Helmins, was technically in charge of preparations for the great gathering that was about to happen, but George had been up almost all night helping to work out details and making sure things actually happened in a satisfactory way physically and of course politically. "Certainly other groups besides the Brethren will be represented and introduced to the head crow," he reassured his constituents. "Yes, all participants will receive overtime and hazardous duty pay," he assured everyone.

How many seats and how many bird perches were needed on the stage, and how should they be arranged? How many portable-potties for more than ten thousand humans? What about drinks for the thirsty? Should they provide seed, water, and perches for the birds? How many birds? What about first harvesting enough of the field to accommodate the crowd and provide some bird food? What about transportation to and from the event for outlying personnel?

Unfortunately, preparing for the morning extravaganza was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Full scale harvesting was to start immediately after the ceremony. Humans running huge harvest machines, protected mostly by birds, were to harvest thousands of acres of crops as quickly as possible. Grain harvest and transport equipment had been serviced and moved into place over the last two days, many weeks ahead of schedule. All harvesters, grain trucks, fuel, and other needed supplies were ready to go.

Too soon now, after only two days of preparation, the gathering was finally going to happen. The first dull glow of dawn was still on the eastern horizon when twelve thousand men, women, and children, over ninety percent of the human population of Aves, including nearly everyone from Spaceport City and surrounding towns, began arriving and assembling in the field.

Despite the recent worm attacks, people were in an almost festive mood. It was a psychological thing, he knew. They were excited about meeting with each other and the birds and with kicking-off the harvest. They also felt safer being all together like that, particularly since many of the adults were armed with guns.

If like him they had seen videos of the worm attacks, they wouldn't feel so safe. Keto had watched all the available videos several times. Captain Jack was right; small arms were useless against all but the smallest worms.

Four hundred unarmed people dressed completely in black approached the stage as a coherent group. The Brethren had arrived. A tall, lean man separated from the group and approached the Governor. Brother Martin nodded at George Keto, then walked past him, mounted the stage and sat down in the chair to the immediate left of the Governor's seat.

That aspect of the seating arrangements had particularly upset the head of the labor union. George didn't much like it either; there were many more voting union members than there were Brethren; but it couldn't be helped. When the blackbird leaders reached the stage, they had to see the man they had met with before, side by side with Helmins and himself.

Mark Helmins appeared out of the crowd, followed by the heavily armed Zeke Thomas. He was grinning as he approached the sullen Governor Keto. "What's the matter George? Why the frown? It looks to me like everything is going very well, considering."

"Mark, I still don't like concentrating everyone in one place this way. A morning worm attack would be catastrophic."

"You've been listening to your old ship captain too much. The worms have always attacked in the afternoon, or late morning at the earliest. We'll have this ceremony completed and personnel dispersed before the worms know it. Besides, the geology team will COM us at the first sign of local worm movement. We'll all be perfectly safe, just as in future mornings and evenings we will be safe as we harvest." He spoke loud; making sure that nearby field-hands heard his reassuring words. "Now let's go reassure this crowd of their safety and wait for our blackbird friends to arrive."

Mark Helmins, Governor Keto, and a dozen other leading citizens of Aves climbed up onto center of the hastily constructed wooden stage and Helmins stepped to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are assembled here to launch our harvesting efforts, and to welcome the beginning of a new era of increased cooperation with the birds. For some time now, as many of you know, we have been secretly communicating with blackbirds."

There were many gasps from the assembled crowd. Yes, most had heard the rumors, but this was the first admission of it from the Corporation.

"Yes, we have recently discovered that some of the birds are indeed sentient." He let most of the resulting crowd murmurs again die down again before continuing. "Our suspicions in that regard had to be kept secret until it could be confirmed and we could work things out with the blackbirds. I am pleased to announce that we have negotiated their agreement to both help tend the crops and fight the monster worms."

Scattered applause rippled through the crowd, but most people were too stunned to respond.

"We felt it appropriate to kick off our harvest effort, celebrate our good fortune, and begin this era of even closer human-to-bird cooperation by gathering here and presenting to you the leader of the blackbirds and his flock. That is, when the flock arrives." Helmins looked skyward. There were no birds in sight. In fact, the sky was completely empty, except for a low, dense black cloud moving in from the north. It was approaching rapidly. Damn! The last thing they needed was a sudden Aves rainstorm!

Others in the crowd also looked to the north and many pointed. "It's birds!" shouted someone. "That's not clouds, it's a whole shit-load of birds!"

Indeed, though still several kilometers distant, a great noise arose from the approaching dark cloud, as more than a hundred thousand giant crows and grackles cawed and cackled, and beat their monstrous wings.

To the rear of the stage, Captain Jack Martin and Deputy Harold 'Tiny' Forge were anxiously watching the birds with binoculars. "Good lord Tiny, all together we don't have enough bullets to take out a tenth of those birds, if this turns out to be some kind of setup."

"Maybe Captain, but if they do turn nasty, I plan to take plenty of them with me." He patted the machine-gun barrel and smiled grimly. "The good news is, maybe they are a match for those giant worms after all."

Helmins paled as he watched the Black Flock approach. He had been expecting a few dozen birds, not many thousands of birds!

As the birds rapidly advanced the humans watched, transfixed by the spectacle, but also increasingly fearful of the powerful force of nature that was coming ever closer. It was one thing when these birds were scattered, few, and had somehow been trained to be harmless, even beneficial, but it was something else when they were numerous enough to blot out the suns, their savage screams were deafening, they embodied an avowed but unknown alien intelligence, and they were coming straight at you by the thousands. A woman screamed.

"Don't be afraid," said Helmins, his amplified voice barely audible above the increasing bird sound. "This is all according to plan; the birds are coming to protect us from the worms."

"I'd rather have the bloody worms," shouted a man from the crowd.

"If they shit on us we'll drown," commented a woman, also shouting to be heard above the cawing, yawing, and flapping.

Not many people laughed. The immense cloud of birds split in two and circled the field of humans to either side, settling into two flocks, one circling the humans clock-wise and the other circling counter clock-wise outside the first flock, crows caw-cawing and grackles cack-cacking.

"Son of a bitch!" exclaimed Tiny, as he watched the birds in amazement. "Them crows is big bastards, ain't they?" He started to check his ammunition again. Few humans had ever seen a crow. This close, it was easy to distinguish between grackles and crows, the crows were so much larger: frightfully larger; with their feathers adding to their apparent size. The wingspans of the crows were at least double that of the grackles.

Tiny's COM buzzed, and he took it from his belt and cupped it in his big hands to shield away some of the bird-noise as he held it near his mouth and one ear.

"Hello, is that you, Tiny?" asked a woman's voice.

"This is a police COM, lady," complained Tiny. "Official business only. How did you get on this frequency?"

"John set my COM to broadcast it three days ago."

"John Weltman? I don't think so. He's been missing for more than three days."

"Yeah, and I've been missing with him. This is Kate Deborg, Tiny."

Tiny's jaw dropped. "Kate? It can't be!"

"Give me that," said Jack, wrestling the COM from Tiny's limp grip. "Kate, its Captain Jack. Are you all right? Is John with you?"

"I'm fine. No, John's not with me. He's OK though, as far as I know. Jack, what's happening down there? Have the crows started to land yet? We can only see a mass of black from where we are."

"You're so close to here that you can see them? They're circling above the crowd now, and their leaders are supposed to join our leaders soon. How did you know about the crows?"

"No time to explain everything now. Listen carefully. We're flying high above you now, riding on two friendly raptors, my friend Blue and myself. First of all, don't shoot us down."

"No danger of that. Our radar-driven anti-bird grid is dismantled, Kate. Most big guns are lined up to cover the fields, waiting for worms; we have a lot of guns here, but most are aimed down also. But raptors? Did you say that you're riding on raptors? And who is this Blue companion of yours, if it isn't John?"

"It's the blackbirds you need to worry about first, Jack. They plan to kill the humans. Do you understand? They plan to kill all humans this morning. But Blue has a plan to take care of that, with our help. Now listen-up, we don't have much time to stop the blackbirds. You've got to get control of the speaker system with your COM, and link it to my COM so that both you and Blue can talk to the crowd and the bird flock. Can you do that?"

"We'll do it Kate," Jack replied, after a brief exchange with Tiny.

The human crowd, in the meantime, watched a dozen huge crows glide down through the middle of the circling Black Flock. A hundred thousand blackbirds stopped their harsh cries as the lead crow, by far the largest, dropped towards the stage, cawing loudly.

"That biggest one must be the leader," said the Governor. "Lord, what a brute. I'm glad he's on our side."

"Amen," said Brother Martin, who was smiling serenely. "The power of the Lord has come."

"Welcome, friend birds," said Helmins, using the microphone, as he watched the bird leaders approach.

In the back of Captain Jack's jeep, the Captain and Tiny were less convinced than ever that these birds were friends. Thanks to a link with Kate's COM, Jack could read on his little fold-out screen the Human language translation of what the Crow leader was telling his flock, while Tiny worked furiously at the COM controls.

"When all birds are in place next to their victims I will give the order to attack using the human singing device," Black Heart sang, over and over. He also sang something else even more curious. "Spare the black covered humans for now. Kill and eat all other humans."

"Shit," said Jack, reading the translation. His worst-case scenario was coming true. But he resisted the impulse to immediately warn the colonists that they were about to be slaughtered, or to open fire on the blackbirds. A warning now would only trigger panic and an immediate bird attack, and there were too damn many birds and too few weapons in the hands of even fewer trained personnel. No, there was only one hope, and it came in the form of a little sprig of a young woman named Kate and her friend Blue, whoever the hell that was. "I can do the math, Kate. We'll do our part. Your plan damn well better work, or we're all bird food. Hurry it up, Tiny."

"Everyone put down your guns to show that we're friendly," Helmins announced loudly, several times, as Black Heart and his lieutenants dropped down towards the stage. Most of the humans placed their guns on the ground at their feet, though a few grasped their guns even firmer.

Black Heart was ecstatic. It wasn't simply winning that mattered, it was how you won that counted. To be more clever, deceitful, and ruthless than a foe, that was the true measure of blackbird greatness. As he had requested, the stupid, naive humans were disarming themselves! The soon to erupt terror and carnage would be most delicious indeed!

The lead crow landed next to Helmins, causing a rush of wing-caused wind. Helmins' jaw dropped open. The black as coal bird that alighted on the perch next to him was frightfully enormous. The elevated box that Helmins stood on was supposed to be high enough to bring him level with the crow, but its designers were in error; this big bird's head towered a meter above him.

Its eyes were dark and shifty, and its beak looked big enough to easily rip off a man's head and swallow it whole. Hell, it could probably swallow an entire human whole! It seemed be smiling sinisterly. In short, the bird looked like the devil himself. The seated humans on the stage were also nervously watching the other lead crows, which had ignored the man-made perches at the back of the stage and instead landed just off-stage, where they formed a tight circle around it, as though to block anyone from escaping.

"Greetings Doctor Helmins," the lead crow said, as clear as anything. Its deep harsh voice, picked up by the microphone and magnified a hundred-fold, sounded as dark and sinister as the creature looked. "You may call me Black. I am the leader of all blackbirds on Aves. King, you would perhaps say. I understand that you are the leader on our planet of this small group of humans that grows food for your home world Earth. For a group there called the Star Corporation."

"Yes, Black, and I am empowered by the Corporation to offer to share our food, in return for your continued help, including help against the giant worms."

"Yes, the worms," replied the bird. "We of the Black Flock plan to destroy all great worms that emerge today. As you see, there are more than ten of my blackbirds here to protect each human."

"No black devil birds better follow me around," exclaimed one of the men in the crowd that still held a rifle. Helmins recognized him; it was Luke Bass, one of the trouble-making old-timers that hung out with Captain Jack.

"There is nothing to fear, human," responded Black Heart, as his head twisted to eye Luke. "I will have some of my flock walk among you humans, so you can see that we are your friends."

The big bird squawked into the microphone for a fraction of a second and Jack watched as the horrifying translation formed on his COM screen: "Pick your victims and land near them, then wait for my signal to kill and eat them," it said.

"As of now, you can control the speaker system with my COM on broadcast mode, and you link in Kate's COM too," announced Tiny to Jack. Some people mistakenly thought that Harold 'Tiny' Forge was slow in the mind and without skills, but his friends knew that in a former life he was a good electronics engineer.

"OK, Kate and Blue," the Captain said into his COM. "This is it. I'm switching over control of the speakers to both you and me like you wanted. Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead."

"Who is this Blue guy, anyway?" the big deputy asked Jack. He wanted to also ask what the hells a torpedo was, but decided that question could wait.

"Kate didn't have time to explain, except to say that Blue will be coming down to talk to Black Heart."

"Black HEART?" asked Tiny. "Is that the crow's full name? Nasty!"

Hundreds of blackbirds were now landing among the humans. People backed away from the fearsome looking birds, which simply provided additional room for more birds to land and further infiltrate them. The humans held their fire, but many had their guns ready.

"Take it easy, folks," pleaded Helmins, intending to calm the crowd and prevent an incident, but he was shocked when his voice wasn't picked up by the microphone anymore. "Shit," he exclaimed in exasperation. "What has happened to my microphone?"

As the Black Flock silently listened for Black Heart's order to attack, from high above them came a frightening sound. "WEEchew, WEEchew." It was the cry of falcons! The blackbirds looked up anxiously, and were somewhat relieved to see only two of the dreaded bird-killers. However, as they watched, the larger of the two folded its wings and started to drop down towards the Flock, followed by the second raptor.

"Stop them, stop them," cawed several of the lead crows, but most of the Blackbirds were scattering this way and that, in an instinctive evasive maneuver designed to flee while confusing attackers. No longer flying in orderly, concentric circles, the blackbirds began to collide with each other in disarray.

Black Heart, seeing the growing chaos, squawked in rage, but his bluster was mostly drowned out by the screams of the falcons and the squawking of scattering blackbirds as the dreaded raptors dropped through their ranks, somehow managing to dodge blackbirds that accidentally find themselves in their path.

"Falcons," yelled one of the men in the crowd, and many picked up their guns.

A thousand blackbirds had already landed, but now half of them, nervous from the cry of the raptors and the re-arming of humans, took off again, further adding to the disarray.

"Fix your speaking device now, human," Black Heart ordered Helmins in a commanding voice. "I must sing into it."

"We're trying," said Helmins, confused and terrified.

"Take it easy folks," said a familiar voice over the speaker system. Most of the people immediately recognized Captain Jack Martin's voice, the voice of a man they trusted. "It's all part of the show. The falcons are our new allies, and the first one carries another ally. Don't be alarmed by their arrival. Don't put your guns down, but don't point them at anyone. Your guns won't be needed. Again, the falcons are our friends."

"We hope," added Tiny quietly.

"I am happy to announce that one of the falcons carries Kate Deborg, the missing Space Directorate scientist," added Captain Jack. "She's been rescued by the falcons and her friend Blue."

"Blue!" hissed Black Heart.

Excitement grew in the crowd. "I can see her," said a woman with binoculars. "It's her! It's that missing bird scientist all right, dressed in an orange glide-suit, riding the back of that second raptor! Don't that beat all!" Many of the humans began cheering and clapping their hands. A hundred more skittish blackbirds returned to the air, as a result.

Concerned with the turn of events, Brother Martin turned to the head of security. "Zeke, find that fool Captain Jack, shut him up and arrest him." He made sure that he talked loud enough to be heard by Black Heart.

Zeke looked at Helmins for instructions, and Helmins, though surprised by the vehemence of both Bother Martin and the crow, motioned with a nod for Zeke to do what the head of the Brethren had demanded.

Black Heart was also busy screaming orders to his lieutenants, the dozen big crows that still surrounded the stage, though he used plan song, not human language. "Half of you come with me, the others stay here and be ready to hear and spread my command to attack." Black Heart and six big crows lifted off and flew up towards the approaching falcons, screaming to their fellow birds to follow them. Few did.

The falcons extended their wings to break their dive a hundred meters above the stage, and a smaller shape separated from the first falcon. Several humans at first shouted in dismay, thinking a person had fallen off, but the shape was obviously much larger than a human and quickly extended wings and flew close to the second falcon.

"It's a blue jay!" shouted someone in alarm.

"It's the Blue Death," sang many blackbirds, also in alarm, and they scattered from him as though he were poison, and from the Falcons that followed him.

Hung around Blue's neck, like a charm on a rope necklace, was Kate's COM unit, and it was turned on. "My name is Blue Dawn Jay, a blue jay flock leader," sang a new voice from the human speaker system in the human language. "I am a friend to scientist Kate and to Sheriff John Weltman. I wish to be a friend to all humans. With our falcon allies Swift Wing and her mate, we bring the human named Kate home safe to you now."

Scattered cheering resumed as Kate's falcon again folded its wings and resumed dropping towards the stage, skillfully dodging blackbirds that were still more interested in avoiding the big raptor than in confronting it. Black Heart had said nothing about raptors, jays, or humans arriving from above. Something had gone very wrong, and the blackbirds were confused and apprehensive, and were reverting to their instinct to retreat from strange situations. Several humans still pointed guns at the approaching raptor, but Kate was now sitting up on its back, waving and smiling as the bird approached. More humans put down their guns again so that they could clap their hands. More clutched their guns even harder. Crows and grackles, and now raptors and a jay?

Remaining blackbirds in the vicinity of the stage hopped or flew away as the fearsome falcon gently landed on the perch that a minute ago had accommodated Black Heart. Doctor Helmins, who had been relieved when Black left his side, was now a mere arm's length away from an even larger and more fearsome looking creature. No human and raptor had ever been so close, without death resulting, he knew.

It stared down at the Corporation leader with huge, intelligent eyes. "Well, Helmins," said the bird, opening its cruel beak, "are you going to help my friend Kate get off of my back?"

In the meantime Blue found himself approached by Black Heart and a half dozen of his big lieutenants. Unlike most of the young crows he had earlier bested, these were all older, larger, seasoned fighters. Of course he did have Swift Wing flying next to him, which gave pause to all the crows temporarily, so that the two sides soon circled each other warily instead if immediately attacking. More grackles and crows by the score were converging on them though, as their confidence gradually returned, their courage bolstered by the presence of their great numbers and their great leader, the immortal Black Heart.

"Cousins, I claim right of re-entry into the Black Flock," sang Blue, in Plain Song. The announcement went out over the human speakers, and was heard clearly by the entire Black Flock. Thousands of stunned crows and grackles, intrigued by this completely unexpected statement, squawked in astonishment.

"You are a fool, jay," sang Black Heart. "We have you greatly outnumbered. You will enter our flock by entering our bellies."

"Jays once flew with the Black Flock. Once in the Black Flock, always a bird may return. So it is sung. That is your own Law."

"So it is sung, so it is sung; the Law, Law, Law," agreed the gathering Black Flock, in mass. They sensed the coming battle between Black Heart and the Blue Death. It was for that reason as much as orders from Black Heart that they now re-grouped, circling in closer and closer. Much more than they liked taking place in dangerous fights themselves, they enjoyed watching others battle to the death. What Black Heart had sung was going to happen was not yet happening, but things were certainly getting very interesting anyway.

"What trick is this, blue fool? You would join my flock and take my orders, young prince of the forest?" asked Black Heart, mockingly.

"No trick. I, Blue Dawn Jay, pledge to obey the commands of the great Black Heart," sang Blue.

The blackbirds squawked excitedly, their amusement evident, then again became very silent. This was all very entertaining indeed, and they didn't want to miss any of it. They circled still closer to Blue and Swift Wing, a solid impenetrable mass of black that cut out most light. They mostly kept from squawking, but the sound of their beating wings was loud and ominous.

"Then I welcome you to my Black Flock, egg eater. My first command is for you to attack that falcon that flies by your side, protecting your cowardly little self."

The Black Flock crowed and cackled, unable to contain their delight, then quickly forced themselves silent again, so they would not miss a single thing.

"No," refused Blue. "I have pledged to obey the commands of Black Heart, mightiest of the Black Flock."

"And I have given you my command, stupid one."

"I don't recognize you as Black Heart."

"Fool! I am Black Heart, leader of all the Black Flock; I am mightiest and wisest!"

"I sing that it is me that is mightiest and wisest," replied Blue. "I challenge you for the title of Black Heart, foul one."

Thousands of crows and grackles squawked in delight! Then they snapped their jaws shut again and again, "clack, clack, clack," signaling that a duel was expected. In a matter of moments they were all doing it in unison, more than a hundred thousand of them, making a thunderous, deafening racket.

"Caw, caw," screamed Black Heart angrily, signaling that he had agreed to duel. The clacking stopped as the big crow drifted up higher than Blue and approached him from above. "Do you know the rules, egg eater?"

Blue was forming a reply when the huge crow twisted and dropped at him with surprising agility, seeking to impel the smaller bird's body with his weight-driven beak. Blue dodged the beak, which glanced off his feathers, but felt the massive head hit his back and felt the weight of the world's largest blackbird press him downward, so that he collided solidly with one of the crows that surrounded them. Twisting, he barely dodged a second blow from Black Heart, which struck the crow below him instead, and sent it screaming and spiraling out of sight through its churning flock-mates.

Swift Wing followed every move of the two combatants. The big crow was far more powerful, but Blue he judged to be the quicker of the two. If he could evade Black Heart's blows, he had a chance, but the jay needed room to maneuver. "Back away, back away or die," screamed Swift Wing menacingly at the surrounding blackbirds, brandishing deadly talons and ripping beak. "Give them room to fight, and your flock-mates a better chance to see, but do not interfere, or you will face me." Shrieking, the raptor swept swiftly around the combatants, spiraling away from them as the Black Flock gradually backed away.

Blue, thankful for increased maneuvering room, attacked next, sweeping over and behind his foe and striking at the crow's left side, attempting a crippling blow to the blackbird's wing while avoiding his powerful beak. Blue hit only feathers. The crow was surprisingly agile and unpredictable, as well as aggressive.

"Surprised? Do you think I fear you, a mere jay?" asked Black Heart, as he turned to pursue Blue and again closed on him. "I have killed scores of birds, blue as well as black."

"By foully singing them to death?" taunted Blue. Black Heart struck as Blue made his reply, but Blue easily swept up and over him, this time pecking the big bird's back squarely as he did so, but doing no real damage through the big crow's thick armor of big feathers.

Black Heart wheeled around to chase Blue, while again screaming at him in Plain Song. "Song Flame, that was the name of your worthless, dung eating, busy-body friend. He would have sang to your Council before I was ready. I drank his blood, and even that was weak and worthless, just like you, you mate-less freak, son of a cowardly blue freak."

Blue burned with anger, but knew that he had to control it. As was frequently the case with blackbirds, this was a battle of wits and wills, as well as fighting skills, and Blue decided to now go on the offense with his own song, song that all the Flock would hear over the human speaker system. "My father and I killed brave blackbirds sent by you, the coward-king that has others fight for him, by telling lies about a New Order, lies that can't come true."

"You lie! Nothing can stop the New Order!" Black Heart screamed. The big blackbird chased after Blue, but Blue stayed ahead of him, circling within the area enclosed by the Black Flock.

"Another lie! You are only the king of lies! If you kill these humans they will send warrior humans that will kill all the blackbirds."

Black Heart was furious. Using the human devices, Blue was singing all of this to the entire Black Flock, and he could do nothing about it. "Fool, the humans are weak!"

"The humans are also clever and deadly, and you would make them into our deadly enemies. You are a traitor to blackbirds and to all birds." Blue turned on the crow, and flew straight at him, only at the last moment swerving to avoid a head-on collision.

Black Heart was angry and increasingly frustrated. This jay was bigger, faster, and cleverer than any he had ever faced. Try as he might, he could not catch him. "The humans are few. We will soon have all their food. We will rule all."

"For a cycle or two only, king of fools. On their own world the humans are many more than blackbirds could ever be, and have mighty fighters they would send here to our world, if you make them our enemies. They would take back all that they have now, and in their revenge take far more. Your New Order would end up giving our entire World to the humans. This the humans have told me, and I believe them."

"Turn and fight me, lying coward," screamed Black Heart, as he lunged at his enemy with terrific force and speed.

Blue had been watching every tactic, every move of the crow. Now he put to use what he had learned. With a powerful down stroke of his wings Blue swept up and over Black Heart. striking down squarely at the top of the crow's head with a blow that had cracked open hundreds of acorns of similar size and hardness. There was a loud, sharp, cracking sound.

Black Heart's limp lifeless body dropped out of sight.

"Yaw, yaw, yaw," sang Blue in triumph. "WEEchew, WEEchew," cried Swift Wing.

The impossible had happened. Blue Death had triumphed over the immortal Black Heart! The blackbird flock was momentarily stunned and silent, except for the sound of their beating wings.

"WEEchew," answered Mate to Swift Wing two hundred meters below.

"Look out," shouted Luke, who still stood in front of the stage. Amid the chaos and human screams and blackbird squawks, he moved himself and two other people out of the way, just in time to avoid being crushed by Black Heart's body when it fell from the bird-filled sky. Surrounding humans and birds felt the ground shake when more than a metric ton of dead crow struck.

"What does this mean?" Helmins asked Kate.

"It means you have a chance to live longer, human," answered Mate to Swift Wing. "It means that there is a new leader of all the blackbirds of Aves. Blue Dawn Jay will command them to not attack you humans. The plan of the crows to kill all humans has been defeated."

"It's a very good thing for all of us, Helmins," added Kate. "Trust me."

But Helmins was listening to a COM call. "Oh no! It's the monster worms! They're coming now!"

High above, a victorious Blue flew. "I am the new Black Heart!" sang Blue. "Listen to me. The plan for the New Order cannot work! You will not attack the humans!"

"No, we will kill them, and I will rule all," sang one of the crow lieutenants. "I challenge you. I will sing into the song maker of the humans that you carry. I will be Black Heart!"

"No, I will," sang another and another, all eager to fight Blue.

At that point Blue realized that there was a flaw in his plan.

On the ground far below, people began to panic as word of crow threat and the coming of the worms spread.

"Give me control of the speakers, Kate," insisted Helmins.

The ground abruptly shook so violently that most humans were thrown off their feet, and the blackbirds that remained took to the air, squawking in fear, as three mammoth worms the size of train box-cars reared their ugly heads out of the ground. The one nearest to the stage swallowed the dead Black Heart immediately.

"ATTACK THE SCOURGE," screamed Blue. "SAVE ALL THE HUMANS AND SAVE OUR WORLD."

"No!" Cried the crow lieutenant. "Remember the plan! I am the new Black Heart!"

Blue flew at the bird, striking him dead as he had done to his master only a short time before. The bird fell and soon was being torn to pieces by two smaller worms, which were now surfacing by the dozens as humans ran away screaming. There were few gunshots; most guns were simply abandoned when it quickly became apparent that they were nearly useless.

Blue faced the other crows and grackles that had wanted to challenge him. "The New Order is Dead. I, Black Heart, sing that it is dead. Remember the Law of the Scourge. It is the Law that all birds fight the Scourge. I also sing to you a new Law, a new Law of birds and humans. Birds will not harm humans and humans will not harm birds, but both will fight Scourge. So sings Black Heart. Obey me or die now."

Though shortly before the remaining lieutenants had been jockeying to be next to fight Blue, now they were maneuvering away from him. "So sings Black Heart," sang several of them. "So sings Black Heart," sang hundreds of blackbirds. "So sings Black Heart," sang thousands of blackbirds. "So sings Black Heart," sang tens of thousands of blackbirds, including all the lieutenants.

"WEEchew," screamed Mate to Swift Wing, far below.

"Fight the Scourge, prey birds!" screamed Swift Wing, as she folded her wide wings and dropped screaming towards the ground, to rip flesh from the largest worm with talon and beak. The two falcons were immediately joined by thousands of blackbirds, forced by a primal instinct too strong to resist, more than by Blue's orders, to attack the hundreds of emerging worms.

"Follow me! Fight the Scourge! Save the humans!" cried Blue, as he too dove earthward.

While most of the humans had successfully fled the field where the worms were beginning to emerge, many were not so fortunate. Some tried to fight the worms off with guns or chairs but the most effective tactic by far seemed to be to simply dodge the creatures, and to let the birds fight them. Crows and Grackles sliced the smaller worms apart with their sharp bills, and even successfully mobbed worms the size of busses, but the biggest of the worms seemed to be unstoppable. People and blackbirds were being killed by the dozens.

Frank Jackson and his security men tried to use the lasers, but people or birds usually got in the way. They destroyed two big worms, than abandoned the lasers and barely escaped when worms emerged at their feet and smashed the lasers. Security forces turned their focus to getting themselves and other people to safety and on providing first aid to the injured. Tiny joined them, as did Zeke Thomas, to the surprise of some. The humans were totally overwhelmed, and quickly realized that birds and worms would decide how things worked out, and they could at best only attempt to dodge the battle and try to save as many human lives as possible.

Fifty besieged terrified people still crowded what remained of the wooden stage, including Kate and the VIPs. Around them, hundreds of blackbirds battled nightmarish, many legged leviathans. The two Falcons were still in a desperate battle with one of the bigger worms, which towered ten meters into the air next to the stage. Though they tore great gashes in its body, it still continued to slowly emerge as it snapped at the falcons, who were too agile for it to catch.

Blue took in the entire situation and decided what was needed. "Carry the humans away," he cried, in plain language and in human song. "Fly the humans to safety." The demolished human speaker system no longer broadcast his song, but his harsh jay voice carried well enough through the chaos.

The blackbirds that followed him hesitated, the command was so strange. "Put your arms up," he cried in human, as he dove towards the stage. Keto raised his arms, which were seized firmly by Blue. Soon the Governor was dangling above the fray, born up and away by Blue, who had to flap his wings furiously to carry him above the reach of the worms.

"All humans, put your arms up. Blackbirds, carry the humans to safety." Following Blue's example, perhaps a hundred of the crows and grackles complied, though most birds could not sufficiently overcome their worm-fighting instincts to do so. The humans quickly caught on. Soon they were franticly waving their arms in the air, calling birds to them. The Brethren, who had lost many of their numbers to the worms, were as eager as anyone to be saved, including Brother Martin. Carrying such weight was not too difficult for the blackbirds; they had to only fly with their human cargo a few hundred meters before they reached relative safety on a nearby hill.

Though the biggest worms were still in business, Frank Jackson was starting to think that a corner had been turned, though at a terrible price. At least for now most humans had escaped, thanks to the birds. From what remained of the stage, most humans had been removed, though Kate and Helmins still huddled in the wreckage as big worms knocked it to pieces. If he could only rescue Helmins and Kate he'd have this thing licked. But then Frank received a COM from Mike at Ops.

"Lextor says more worms will soon emerge here, and there will be major worm attacks within minutes in all of the crop fields, in some forests at the edges of the crop areas, in Spaceport City, and even at the port itself. The worms that attacked already were only an advance batch. A hundred times more are coming."

"Crap," was all Jackson could think to reply. Moments later, a monstrously huge worm surfaced near where the bulk of the human survivors were gathered. It was twice the size of any that had come before it. A dozen blackbirds attacked it, but it seemed not to notice them.

Calls started coming in to Jackson from all over the colony, asking Security for help that they couldn't give. The scattered laser cannons had quickly been overwhelmed. Loggers used huge logging machines to successfully fight off some of the worms at the edge of forests being logged, but even those big machines were being overwhelmed. Thousands of monster worms were emerging in fields, towns, and the city. Lumber yards and even giant live trees were being devoured. Reports came in from the space port that worms were beginning to break off huge chunks of the landing pad at its edges. It was the end of the colony, and nothing could be done to stop it.

Jackson's next COM from Ops was equally memorable.

"We have bogies on air radar, Frank! Birds, lots of them."

"No shit. We've been up to our eyeballs in birds and worms for some time now."

"No, no, no!" exclaimed Mike, so excited he could hardly talk. "More birds! Big birds! Hot damn, thousands of big monster birds! Coming in so fast you wouldn't believe it!"

Helmins and Kate were cowering on the last section of disintegrating wooden stage when Blue landed next to them. "You must flee this place now," he said, but then cocked his head as if listening.

"What the hell is that sound?" asked Helmins. "It sounds like giant horns."

"The great raptors and water birds come," said Blue. "They respond to messages from all the bird Councils, carried by the swiftest of falcons sent from Song Wood."

The humans looked up. From the west, high above the decimated ranks of blackbirds, thousands of truly enormous birds were approaching. In their lead flew a great golden eagle. "Kree, kee, kreeeeee," it screamed, as it dropped from the sky. Hundreds more eagles followed, along with thousands of hawks and falcons of many types.

"Blue's plan," said Kate, smiling. "The swiftest Accipitridae and the Falconidae arrive first."

"Who?" asked Helmins.

"Eagles, hawks, and falcons," explained Kate.

The lead golden eagle dropped towards them, screaming, and struck the largest worm with great talons that ripped deep into its head. The worm, seriously injured immediately, tried to pull away, but the eagle pulled up on it with thirty-five-meter wings that almost blew everyone off the stage, halting its retreat, as the great bird tore into it deeper with hooked beak and claws.

"John!" exclaimed Kate in astonishment, pointing. On the great golden eagle's shoulders, a tiny figure was desperately clinging to feathers and shouting her name. Squawking, Blue flew to him, grasped his upper arms with his strong, grasping feet, and was soon carrying him away from the struggling titans.

Swift Wing and her mate suddenly appeared, grasped Kate and Helmins by the shoulders, and lifted them up to follow Blue and Weltman away from the battle.

Though grasped uncomfortably, from their vantage point a hundred meters above the battle the three humans were able witness the amazing scene that unfolded before them. Thousands of enormous, screaming, dinosaur sized raptors, with wingspans ranging from ten to over thirty meters, were arriving. As they drew near, smaller birds that had ridden on their backs fell away from them: mostly blue jays. Soon they were all striking and tearing apart the worms with beak and claw. Arriving in their wake were thousands of even more massive creatures, twenty meter tall trumpeting cranes and croaking storks that ripped off great chunks of worm and swallowed them.

From the north, great horned owls and gray owls with twenty-meter wingspans attacked, hooting loudly, accompanied by croaking great blue herons and great, fat, honking geese. Lesser owls and hawks also attacked, focusing on smaller worms. Thousands of sea birds attacked, giant gulls, turns, pelicans and others. Many of the sea birds flew so gracefully that they seemed to be part of the air itself. Finally, from the marshy east came thousands of bald eagles, swans, ducks, and scores more herons of many types. A great beaked bald eagle led them.

Still more numerous were the tens of thousands of songbirds that swept in from all sides, including thousands of blue jays, many of which had arrived on the backs of bigger birds. Small worms and pieces of big worms were targeted by them. The world had become a mass of birds, blotting out the suns and sky from view, swirling the air with their great beating wings, trampling the earth with their giant clawed feet, and assaulting the ears with beating wings and harsh cries.

Reports on the ongoing destruction of the worms by giant birds soon came in from all around the colony. Countless birds were at work throughout the human-cultivated lands, destroying the Scourge. It took most of the remaining day, but the great battle for Aves was finally won. The worms had met their match. Blue's plan to turn the blackbirds and use them to fight the worms until more help arrived had worked.

Arriving to the cheers of humans and the cries of the birds that were already there, victorious human and bird heroes of the day continued to gather and greet each other with hugs and song of celebration. The humans George Keto and Zeke Thomas had harsh words with Brother Martin, but the general atmosphere was definitely joyful. Helmins was seen smiling and actually hugging Captain Jack. "Early estimates indicate a ten percent lumber loss, a twenty to thirty percent food crop loss, and nearly a hundred human deaths," Helmins told Jack. "Bad yes, but very good news, considering we damn near lost all crops and humans."

The jays included familiar birds. Blue greeted Bob and Nod with playful head-buts, while Strike True and Scar playfully pecked at each other, then yawed and squawked with Blue. Blue was relieved when a giant raptor landed and a tiny brown bird slipped off its back. It was Brownie, who immediately hopped to Captain Jack and was greeted joyfully by his happy human friend.

The humans John and Kate seemed particularly happy to see each other, judging from the hugging and kissing that ensued, which their bird friends watched with interest. Swift Wing and her mate twisted their heads almost upside down to better stare at them with their great, keen, raptor eyes.

"You see my love," said Mate to Swift Wing. "It is as I told you. Those two humans intend to mate for sure."

"I believe you are right," agreed Swift Wing. "Perhaps humans are not so different from birds after all. While we are on the subject of mating, is that a young female jay with Blue?"

Blue had hopped away from the central throng in the company of a female jay.

"I heard him sang that her name is Fly Free. A tasty looking prey bird; she would make a fine meal."

As the falcons watched the two jays exchanged song and butted heads playfully. "I can't make out what he is singing to her," remarked Swift Wing, "but it seems to me that Blue also has romantic intensions."

"Don't we all?" sang her mate, gazing with huge eyes at his beloved.

****

CHAPTER 21

NEW BEGINNINGS

"Captain, look who's here!" exuded Tiny, from behind the bar. So loud and excited was his proclamation, that most of the hundred human customers in the Inn and all twenty of the songbird customers in the bar turned to see who was entering Captain Jack's new Song Flame Inn. Many of the humans gasped, most of the songbirds squawked, and there was perceptible movement of customers away from the big open doorway through which the three travelers entered. Two huge, fierce looking Peregrine falcons stepped through the over-sized doorway, preceded by a small, smiling young woman wearing a worn orange and yellow glide suit.

Captain Jack Martin excitedly limped towards them as fast as he could. "Kate! And our good friends Swift Wing and Mate to Swift Wing! You've returned at last!"

Kate stepped forward to receive a hearty bear hug from the Captain and return it as best she could. "Hello, Jack; looks like business is good."

"Business is incredible, both here in Song Wood and back at Spaceport City. I get a steady stream of high paying V.I.P. businessmen and tourists from Earth, eager to hook up with bird guides, songbirds, and flock leaders. Humans are also going crazy over two-meter orchids and fifty kilo spiders. Business is insane!"

"Not too many humans, I should hope," said Mate to Swift Wing.

"Nope. Kate, so far the Pact of Blue that your husband and Blue set up to regulate Earth to Aves interaction has held up under incredible pressures and demands, and smaller crop areas and selective logging are in place to prevent the recurrence of Scourge." Jack gestured towards an empty table, where Tiny was already depositing two big vats of nectar-sweetened water for the falcons, and two mugs and a picture of beer for Kate, Jack, and himself. "Drinks are on the house," announced Jack, as they all settled around the table. The huge birds stood with talons gripping solidly constructed wood perches that surrounded each table.

"Are you taking good care of my old COM unit, Jack?" Kate asked.

"Its remains still occupy a place of honor over the bar, Kate, though next year when the Aves museum opens it will be one of my many donations." Jack pointed to where the badly crushed COM unit hung above the bar.

"Donating the Roc Bar to be used as a museum was generous of you, Jack," Kate remarked.

"The new combination hotel and main museum being built next to it will be the biggest building on Aves, Kate. Keto is personally running the whole shebang, so it's just as well that I moved out here. I'm staying out of politics, even though the Council is held right here in Song Wood."

"They made quite a good team in the Council of Birds and Humans, both Blue Dawn Jay and John, mate of Kate," remarked Swift Wing, after she had lapped up half of her nectar-sweetened water. "Any creatures that can talk raptors into anything at all are gifted in song. When John persuaded Yellow Claw to be an ally in the Great Battle, instead of him being a small meal, he showed his persuasive gifts to be great indeed. I hope that the Council of Birds and Humans can survive without them."

"The Council will continue to do just fine, with Red Claw presiding," said Kate.

"Do you think that Blue and John have really quit the Council for good then?" asked Jack.

"I think so," said Kate. "Blue has his family to care for, and my husband was discouraged from further politics when the Space Directorate rejected his ideas about introducing Aves mushrooms, worms and birds to Mars."

"Earth and Mars are still studying the idea seriously though," said Jack, "and I think they'll come around. It makes too much sense. The mushrooms could create deep living material while worms could churn up Mars dust and rock much quicker than anything being done now. Bringing in the birds to control them makes sense too. I'm in favor of more study before jumping into it though. The mushrooms and worms need to be better understood before the politics can work out. John and Blue could help push it through faster though, if they were to return to the Council."

Kate smiled and shook her head. "I doubt that will happen. Politics is too boring, compared with what's out there." She waved her hand towards the big Plexiglas window that looked out on Song Wood Glen. More than anywhere else, Song Wood was the central meeting place for birds and visiting humans. From here humans went off with bird guides to experience local Aves forests and wildlife. A few adventurous people went on longer expeditions, but to date still only a small fraction of Aves had been explored by humans. Now that birds were allied with humans, Aves exploration was much safer and more practical, and her husband ex-Sheriff John Weltman wanted to be part of it.

Today a huge throng of birds was gathering in the trees and bushes, watching the visiting human orchestra and the Song Wood bird chorus set up in the Glen for a joint concert to be held later in the day. Nearly a thousand human tourists had also gathered for this Star Corporation sponsored concert.

Most profits for such events went to Aves/Earth joint research and treaty enforcement, but even with only a ten-percent cut the Star Corporation was making more profits on tourism and cultural exchange between Aves and Earth than they were making from food and lumber. The over-all impact on Earth was incredible; the Aves phenomenon was being touted as a new renaissance for Earth. Aves bird song was being listened too and studied across Earth. Bird legends hidden in bird song were being translated into hundreds of human languages for public consumption. Paintings, sculptures, and stories about Aves birds dominated human art. Human interest in space exploration and in Aves reached even greater heights when delegations of birds began visiting Earth.

The impact of Aves life-forms on Earth was being closely regulated, so far. A few food plants had even been successfully modified by Corporation biologists and under close scientific scrutiny were being raised both on Aves and Earth with dramatic success, though there were some caveats. The full potency of Aves food could not be fully exploited by Earth life-forms, which lacked the ability to effectively digest and metabolize some of the Aves-unique chemical components. Conversely, Earth food was found to lack some of the nutrition needed by Aves life-forms. Compatibility between Earth and Aves life-forms was high, but not 100%.

Many people feared that the introduction of Aves life forms to Earth could lead to disaster. For example, what if Aves ants or spiders established themselves on Earth? The impact on the already strained Earth ecosystem could be as great as occurred from global warming, pollution, and other human induced disasters.

It was the cultural impact of Earth on Aves birds that most worried Kate and many other humans and birds. Physical and legal impacts were successfully being restricted, but the inevitable impact of human thoughts and culture was unknown. However, for better or worse there was no turning back now. Aves and its birds would irreversibly change; but minimally and slowly if Kate, Blue, and their allies could manage it. Aves birds needed it to remain wild and free, as did the humans that they inspired.

About a quarter of the birds waiting for the concert to start were crows and grackles, Kate noticed. It was good to see the blackbirds at peace with everyone else, and even taking part in Song Wood cross-cultural activities. Of course they were still blackbirds, and probably scheming at something; as undoubtedly were many of the humans.

"It should be quite a performance," said Jack. "Is that why you finally came out of your beloved forest? To hear the concert? It will be broadcast live to Earth, you know. The Corporation's cut of the profits will be insane!

"Hardly," said Swift Wing. "We came here to meet with Blue."

"Blue is coming here to Song Wood? That IS big news."

"My husband will be here soon too," added Kate, "riding Yellow Claw."

"That will stir up the tourists," said Jack, grinning. "In my view John's biggest diplomatic victory was talking that eagle into helping him instead of killing him. As you know, he did that by telling Yellow Claw that he owed her big-time and that he wanted to join her flock by Freedom of Flight. Peeked her interest long enough to talk things out, but that clever eagle has certainly taken advantage of John being part of her flock since then. And what about Blue's mate Fly Free?"

"She's staying with the nest, to watch the chicks," explained Kate. "Bob and Nod are nesting nearby, with their own chicks, and so are Brownie and his family. Blue's chicks will be fine."

"Birds sing that Blue wants the five of us to join him on a great quest," said Mate to Swift Wing.

"Another quest then, is it?" growled Jack. "You'd think he'd had his fill of those."

"I don't think he ever will," said Kate.

Jack sighed. "No, I don't suppose he will. I can do the math. Blue's too much like you Kate, and like his old mentor, Song Flame. He sings that he wants to quietly nest but then gets an itch for adventure that he just has to scratch. Always searching for knowledge, of all things. What sort of quest is it this time?"

"He wants to find out about the Old Ones and how the birds got to Aves."

Jack whistled. "Now that's really taking on a biggie, to try to solve the big mystery of Aves. Are you all going to join Blue's flock to do it?"

The falcons laughed loudly, which caused anxiety among both human and bird tourists. "Hardly, human," said Swift Wing. "Raptors don't flock. But we will join him for a time, in Freedom of Flight. Besides, without keen raptor eyesight and wisdom, such a quest would of course be doomed."

"Quite so, my love," agreed Mate to Swift Wing. "Kate and Mate to Kate will provide technical assistance of the human sort, aided by those mysterious tools they carry, if it becomes necessary."

A blue jay perched near the big Plexiglas window suddenly squawked with great excitement, in jay, than in Plain Song, and finally in several human languages, as dozens of other birds and humans crowded to the windows to see what was happening. "Blue Dawn, Blue Dawn, Blue Dawn," he sang.

Poor-sighted humans pointed binoculars and long-range COM devices to the sky above the top of the Great Oak. "It's him! It really is Blue Dawn Jay!" exclaimed an excited human tourist looking through binoculars, overwhelmed that she was able to view the planet's most celebrated bird hero. "Say, that woman that came in with the falcons must be that bird-woman friend of his," exclaimed another, excitedly. "Right! Husband to that ambassador to the birds or whatever he is! You know; the guy that rides eagles!" Eyes turned towards the table where Kate was chugging down her mug of ale, but the presence of the fierce looking falcons kept most curious humans and birds several meters away from their table.

One man sat alone at a table close to Kate and her friends, quietly watching and listening. Kate thought that he looked familiar. Of course! She almost didn't recognize him in his green and red Corporation clothing. It was that Josh what's-his-name, the Brethren man that arrived on Aves on the same flight as her. For a moment their eyes met, and they exchanged little nods of recognition. The Brethren, like the blackbirds, had been re-integrated into Aves society, but Josh had evidently abandoned the Order and could now drink beer like everyone else. Good for him!

"I hear Blue singing," said Swift Wing, cocking her head. Outside, hundreds of other birds had become silent, so that they too could better listen.

"It is time for us to go," said Kate, as she chugged down the rest of her drink.

"Freedom of Flight, for all of you," said Captain Jack. He hugged Kate again and gave each falcon a friendly slap on the side as far up as he could reach as they exited.

Outside the door the trio paused as Kate swallowed a motion-sickness pill and gathered her courage. They were already fifty meters above ground level, on a little platform for birds next to stairs that most humans used to access the Song Flame Inn. Despite many hours spent in flight and high within towering trees, her body and psyche still rebelled when she flew. But she loved it.

"Are you ready, ground crawler?" Mate to Swift Wing teased.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied, as she reached as high as she could, grasped huge feathers, and pulled herself up onto the back of the great raptor.

Mate to Swift Wing gave his friend a few moments to strap herself securely in place, and then he and his mate spread their mighty wings. "Kreeeeee," they screamed to the blue sky, as they took to the air where they reined supreme! Raptors were flying!

High above Song Wood, Blue Dawn Jay glided down to the top of the Great Oak, landed on the highest branch that would support his weight, and announced his arrival. "SHAAACK! Yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw! Hear my song, birds of Song Wood and human friends! I am Blue Dawn Jay; crest-feathered blue as clear sky, shoulders gray as storm clouds, blue wings and tail banded black as night and white as snow am I. Strong as hawk, swift as falcon, cunning as a crow am I. By The Pact I am your protector, for I am a blue jay, yaw-yaw!

"A proud song master of Aves am I. Joyful songs of all songbirds I sing; songs of thrush, chickadee, nuthatch, finch, tanager, grosbeak, and more. Songs of warm suns, soft winds, fat juicy nuts and crawlers, gentle rains and forests green, mixed with song of harsh wind and crushing thunder overcome with strength of beating wings and hearts.

"Songs of my wise mentor Song Flame I sing. Songs of jays, of the great flock leaders Strike True and his brother Scar, of my comrades Bob and Nod, and my great true love, Fly Free, and our chicks, I sing. Songs of small birds of great courage and heart like my good friend Brownie I sing with great pride.

"Songs of raptor and human I sing also, and even songs of my blackbird cousins. Songs of joy, love of mate, and Freedom of Flight. Songs of one great flock that spans worlds, bird and human. Your songs are mine and mine yours, for you are the World and I am prince of the World; all the World is mine, and I belong to all the World. By The Pact of the Jays and the Pact of Blue I pledge wing and beak and claw to you all. Crawlers and worms, beware my swift beak, for I am your winged death, and you are my food. Humans and blackbirds, deal fairly with me and with all birds, or face my winged fury."

Blue paused, cocked his head, and listened attentively to the chorus of replies, to the hundreds of songs in dozens of languages from all around him, simultaneously sung, songs of Blue and his great adventures, songs of praise, respect, and adoration. The human response was mostly the clapping of hands, in the way of their kind, for their song was plain and slow indeed.

From far below two great Peregrine falcons rose swiftly, a small human female in an orange glide suit riding on the back of one of them. "WEEchew, WEEchew," they screamed. From far above all of them the scream of the great golden Eagle Yellow Claw answered, "kreeeeeee," accompanying the happy shouts of a male human that rode on her shoulders as they spiraled down majestically to meet the others.

Blue squawked happily. These who came to him were fellow seekers of knowledge and his good friends. The thousands of well-wishing songbirds, raptors, and blackbirds that rose from Song Wood in the wake of the falcons were his friends also, for like his wise mentor Song Flame the cardinal, Blue Dawn Jay was a bird of all flocks.

"Yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw, yaw-yaw; we shall now quest, quest, quest by Freedom of Flight!" he sang joyously, as he flew to meet his friends, his strong wings beating the thick damp air. "By Freedom, Freedom, Freedom of Flight!"

The End

****

Return to Contents

About the Author and Pending Novels

If you enjoyed this novel, please return to Smashwords.com or affiliated E-book distributers to discover short stories and other emerging novels by this author. Born in Erie, PA, I am a recently retired engineer with degrees in physics. For nearly forty years I worked for the DoD/Navy and then for a federally funded research and development center (FFRDC). I took up writing as a hobby about two decades ago, for no good reasons that I can think of. My usually sensible wife and my two daughters allowed me to do it, for no good reasons that they can think of. I have also published flute music. Still, I am not 'the artist' of the family; that distinction more aptly belongs to my brother Robert, who helps with my book-covers. The birder in the family is my daughter Kristin, who teaches college in Queens, NYC; the music lover and dedicated reader of the family is my daughter Kim, a school psychologist in New Jersey.

Three additional novels to be published over the next few months are as follows:

The Shrinking Nuts Case began as a short story. Private detective Jake Simon is a crude, rude, flawed, 'old-school' hero, with a sexy, more intelligent assistant that aids him when he takes on a strange case involving magic-capable beings from a parallel universe. Many complications ensue, including a missing billionaire, mobsters, evil elves, and the little problem that Jake has been shrunk in height from six-foot-two to two-foot-six.

Secrets of Goth Mountain began as a short story titled Cube. The novel involves ancient secrets kept hidden by the Goth family (including the hero Johnny Goth) and a reclusive Native American tribe. Mythic characters introduced in the short story If Einstein Could Fly are featured.

Government Men is the first written and the most complex and ambitious work. The unlikely hero is an inept DoD civilian scientist who leads the effort to save Earth from impending alien-induced doom. The large cast includes mythical, supernatural, scientific, and alien characters, as well as an unlikely reincarnation of the author. Perhaps still more unusual, the novel is also included within itself.

Two of the novels involve dragons, two involve unicorns, two involve space aliens, all three involve magic or paranormal capabilities, all include love stories, and one includes a talking cat.

All are coming soon via Smashwords, if I can finish tinkering with them. I apologize in advance for my endless tinkering. The philosopher Bertrand Russell is said to have dictated his books in their final form for publication. Great trick, if you can pull it off. I clearly lack such genius, but I do the best that I can.

Several other novels are in various stages of creation, including a possible sequel to Blue Dawn Jay of Aves. Looming in the background for the birds is their fear of their legendary creators the Old Ones. Delving further into Aves bird society and the mysterious origins of Earth-like life-forms on Aves is the subject of a possible follow-on novel (tentative title: Secrets of Aves) to be completed if there is sufficient reader interest.

Also, to access the above referenced short stories, see my collection There Goes the Neighborhood; Earthly Fantasy/Science Fiction Short Stories at <https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/364040>.

Sing and fly free, humans of Earth!

Gary J. Davies, Mechanicsville, Maryland, November 2013

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