Flight of the Golden Harpy Read online

  “I’ll be all right, Aron. Do what you can.”

  “Some of my males protect this structure from a swarm attack. Do not leave here. There can be no risk to you and your coming fledgling.” He walked out on the balcony and spread his wings. With a leap he was gone, disappearing into the morning fog.

  As Kari showered and dressed, she was occupied with Aron’s words. She fully understood why Shail wanted her with her father. With the beetles turning deadly, there was a real danger the planet could be devastated. Her father would safely get her off Dora. She went downstairs and heard the communicator buzzing in the den.

  John pressed the key as she walked into the room. The police officer was on the screen.

  “Mr. Turner, I have information on your stolen hovercraft,” he said. “An officer heard about your stolen harpy and said those men might have taken it to an old warehouse on the river, just south of town. It’s owned by some men who deal in the wild animal trade. I was in the area helping with this evacuation, and I swung by. Sure enough, your hover was there.”

  “And my harpy?” John asked.

  “Gone, I have to tell you the place was bad. There were two dead harpies with stripped wings, but they had brown hair, and aside from decaying animal corpses and some empty cages, the warehouse was vacant. Looks like they left in a hurry. I did a background check on the warehouse owner, Gus Simpson. He has a long rap sheet and was recently released from prison for serving time for assault. He’s been arrested for murder and rape, but was never convicted. The witnesses disappeared. I won’t tangle with this guy, Mr. Turner. If your harpy manages to survive his care, the harpy’s probably on a star freighter headed for a zoo or hunting range. Anyway, do you want me to move your hover to the airport? Terrance is evacuating. I’m leaving in a few hours.”

  “It can stay at the warehouse. Thank you, Officer; you’ve been a big help.” John disconnected and looked at Kari. “I wish you hadn’t heard that.”

  Kari put her hand to her mouth. “My poor Shail.”

  John stood up and held her. “Kari, at least we know he’s hasn’t been killed for his wings, and those men want him alive. Shail is a golden harpy and very valuable. I’m sure they’d take good care of him. I’ll call Hampton shipping right now and see if he’s left the planet.” John sat down in his chair and punched in the numbers.

  “Dora Shipping,” said a man.

  “My name is John Turner, and I need information on wild animal export. I’m looking for a golden harpy.”

  The man chuckled. “Yeah, isn’t everyone?”

  “Let me talk to your supervisor, Mr. Davis,” John said.

  “Mr. Davis isn’t here,” the man said, “but I can take care of you, Mr. Turner.”

  “Fine, as I was saying, a golden harpy was stolen from my estate, and he might be shipped off the planet.”

  “I’ll do a search on the outgoing manifests, but Hampton port is a madhouse. Ships are taking off without logging their cargo. Your animal hasn’t been inside the port, since a golden harpy would create a lot of interest, but he might have been loaded outside. If I find your harpy, do you have documented ownership papers, or does the harpy have an imbedded chip or tattoo?”

  “No.”

  “I’m wasting my time if you can’t prove ownership. Harpies fall under exotic game and don’t carry registration papers like domestics. If I did locate your animal on a ship or in the port, you have no legal right to claim him. I’m sorry.”

  “You locate him, and I’ll make it worth your time, say ten thousand credits. I’ll deal with the claim of ownership.”

  “Mr. Turner, I have your com number, and I’ll be keeping an eye out for your harpy.”

  John nodded and turned off the com.

  “If you find Shail, how will you get him back without papers?” Kari asked.

  “Buy him. I just wonder what a live golden harpy is worth.”

  14

  Turner’s two employees Jerry and Sam walked down the beach toward the hovercraft. “I can’t believe Turner is going to let those yellow wings rot,” said Sam. “They’re worth a heck of a lot of money.”

  “Yeah, but Mr. Turner doesn’t need money,” said Jerry, “besides, his daughter would freak if he loaded the wings in the hover. Did you hear her? She’s already screwed up, loving a harpy.”

  “Jerry, you realize a mounted golden pair is worth fifty grand in Terrance? That’s a year’s salary for the both of us, and we’re gonna be out of work soon, with the swarm. After Turner leaves with Charlie and the girl, we could double back through the mountains and grab the wings. No one would know.”

  Jerry stopped in his tracks. “Are you sure they’re worth that kind of money? Turner warned you to leave ’em, and he’s one guy you don’t want pissed off.”

  “Before he finds out, we’ll be long gone with twenty-five thousand in our pockets, and I’ve seen the price of old, beat-up yellow wings hanging in the gun shops in Terrance. We’ll just cure and stash them near the estate and then take ’em to Terrance this weekend. It’s sweet.”

  Jerry thought for a moment. “It does sound pretty easy. All right; it can’t hurt anything, and I sure could use the credits.”

  They reached the hover and took off, heading east over the mountains. After circling around, they landed on the beach, north of the cabin. They crept up to the cabin, making sure that Mr. Turner had gone south to his home. They neared the cabin, and a fledgling bolted out the door.

  Jerry leaped back. “That thing scared the shit out of me,” he said, and watched the small harpy disappear into the tree branches.

  Sam laughed. “Little jumpy, aren’t you?”

  They went inside the cabin and gazed at the golden male on the floor. Jerry took out his knife and bent down. “Hold his wing back, and I’ll cut the tendons near the shoulder.” Jerry reached for the wing. “Hey, this sucker’s still breathing.”

  “Well, cut its throat. I want to be back before we’re missed.”

  Jerry grabbed the harpy’s hair and lifted its head. “There’s no blood under him.” He pushed the harpy over on its back. “Look, Turner didn’t blast it. He stunned the thing.” Jerry looked up at Sam. “It’s no wonder Turner didn’t take the wings; he wanted this harpy alive.” He placed the knife to the unconscious harpy’s jugular vein.

  “Wait a minute,” Sam said.

  “I want to kill it before it wakes up and stares at me with those big blue eyes. These harpies look way too human to suit me.”

  Sam stood up. “We’re not killing this one. We’re tying him up and taking him to Terrance. I met a hunter in a bar, and he told me about his warehouse on the river. Said if I managed to bag a live harpy he’d give me triple the price of mounted wings. Alive, this baby is worth a hundred and fifty thousand.”

  Jerry smiled. “Damn, for that kind of money, I can get out of this stinking jungle and live on a real planet. Let’s drag him to the beach and bring the hover around.”

  They grabbed the harpy under each arm and pulled him out of the cabin. “This thing is tall, but he ain’t nearly as heavy as he looks,” said Jerry.

  “Yeah, he’s a lightweight,” Sam said as they went up the path to the beach. “You stay with the harpy, and I’ll get the hover. There’s some rope in the hover’s storage.”

  As Jerry waited for Sam to return, he noticed the harpy stir and attempt to open its eyes. Sam landed the hover close by. “Get the ropes out,” Jerry said. “He’s starting to come around, and I don’t want to stun him again. I heard harpies are prone to heart attacks.”

  Sam grabbed the ropes out of the back and tied the harpy’s wrists behind his back. Jerry started with the ankles when the harpy regained consciousness.

  * * *

  Feeling his restrained arms, Shail lay on his side and shook his head, hoping to rid himself of the drowsy effect. He saw two men, and one had begun to put ropes around his ankles. He kicked the man in the face, sending him tumbling backward. The other man lunged at him, and Shai
l’s foot struck his stomach. The man doubled over with pain and gasped for breath. Shail struggled to his knees, but his half-tied ankles kept him from standing.

  “Get up, Jerry,” Sam called, holding his stomach. “He’s going to get away.”

  Jerry stood and blood ran down his chin from a split lip and bloodied nose. “All right, let’s grab him from behind.”

  Shail hissed, warning them away, but the men closed in. When they were in striking range, he let loose. His long outstretched wings battered the men, and they fell into the sand. The men clamored to rise and were more hesitant in their approach.

  Using his feet, Shail attempted to remove the ankle ropes. He couldn’t fly unless he stood up. The men gathered their wits and came at him again. He flapped his wings, striking their bodies and forcing them to scramble out of his reach.

  The bleeding, sweaty, and bruised men gasped and stared at him with dread. Shail saw they’d had their fill of abuse. He created an intimidating seething sound while cautiously trying to gain his footing.

  “Didn’t know harpies could fight like that,” Jerry panted.

  “You’re gonna have to stun him. My laser is in the hover,” said Sam. “It’s the only way to get our hands on him.”

  Understanding the human words, Shail wildly flapped his wings, trying to get enough wind under them to take off from the kneeling position.

  “Shoot him, Jerry! He’s trying to fly,” Sam yelled.

  Jerry grabbed the weapon from his belt and blew the sand out of it. Shail finally lifted into the air when he heard the blast and felt the sting hit his back. He fell several feet into the sand and lay still.

  * * *

  Hearing the men’s voices, Shail woke and found himself in the backseat of a hovercraft. He tried to move, but ropes bound his wrists, ankles, and wings. He realized he had been unconscious for some time, because the sun lay low in the west. He lay quietly on his side, waiting for his head to clear.

  “Another hour, and we’ll be rich,” said Sam while piloting the hover.

  “I might go back to Earth,” Jerry said. “I’ve got an aunt and two uncles and a bunch of cousins there I’ve never met.” He glanced at the backseat. “Hey, our boy is awake.”

  Shail exploded, testing the strength of his bonds. He tossed his body against the seat and frantically wiggled to be free.

  “Take it easy, harpy. You’ll hurt yourself and mess up your feathers.” Jerry reached back to pet his head, but Shail lunged to bite. “Damn, he almost took my fingers off. He’s a vicious sucker.”

  “Stun him if he keeps that up,” Sam grumbled. “I don’t care if it hurts him. I know he cracked a few of my ribs.”

  “Well, my nose is broken.” Jerry pointed the weapon at Shail. “Settle down, or I’ll blast you.”

  Shail seethed and stared at him, but stopped grappling with the ropes, finding they held him securely.

  “I swear, he understood,” said Jerry, “or he knows what a laser gun is.”

  “Well, tell him we won’t hurt him if he behaves.”

  Jerry huffed and chuckled. “He ain’t scared. He’s glaring like he wants to chew me up and spit me out. If he got loose, we’d be in trouble.”

  “I still can’t believe Mr. Turner changed his mind and let this harpy go. Heck, for weeks that man raged about killing it.”

  “Who knows what makes that guy tick?” Sam said, veering the hover to the left. “I just know it was lucky for us he stunned it. Once we sell it, I’m off this planet.”

  The men discussed how they would spend the harpy money, and Shail watched them through his long strands of hair. He felt some contentment, learning that Kari’s father had spared him. He sensed that Turner was a good but misguided man. His confusion has ended, and he knows I am not a threat to Kari, Shail thought. He no longer stood between Kari and her father, and their rocky relationship would mend.

  Shail sensed that Jerry and Sam had passive natures, and if not for the money, they wished him no harm. He worried about the buyer, for there was only one reason to keep a harpy alive; to hunt and slowly torture a male to death. I shall try to remain brave, but in truth I am afraid.

  They reached the river and flew north toward Terrance. “There’s the warehouse,” Sam said. He landed the hover in the parking lot as the light faded. “You wait with the harpy. I’ll find Simpson.” Sam opened the hover door and climbed out.

  “That warehouse looks dark,” said Jerry.

  “Yeah, he’s probably up the street in that crummy little bar.” After checking the quiet warehouse, Sam meandered up the street and disappeared.

  A half hour later, Sam and three other men were walking down the dark street toward the hovercraft. “Be careful. He’s really mean,” Sam said. “He beat the hell out of me and my partner.” He opened the back hover door.

  “Well, let’s see if you boys really caught a golden,” said Gus Simpson, looking in the hover.

  Shail stared into the face of a giant. The grizzly man smelled of whiskey and perspiration, and his grin exposed missing teeth. As Gus reached for Shail’s bound legs to pull him out, Shail kicked the unshaven face with his feet and sent the man flying backward to the hard pavement.

  “Are you okay, Mr. Simpson?” Sam said, and attempted to help up the big man. “You gotta be careful with that harpy. I said he was mean.”

  “Get away from me,” Gus growled, and climbed to his feet. He went back to the hover and leered at Shail. “I can’t believe the little fucker knocked me down. Lester, Bert, drag him out the other door. I’ll keep his feet busy. I’m gonna enjoy taking the fight out of this one.”

  Gus’s two men opened the door and met Shail’s snapping teeth. Lester grabbed his hair, controlling his mouth, and Bert jerked him out of the hover and dropped him onto the ground. Shail curled up in a protective ball. His only defenses were his tied feet and his teeth.

  “Before you get paid, I need to see his wings,” Gus said to Jerry and Sam.

  Shail kicked and snapped but was helpless against five pairs of hands. The men flipped him on his belly, and Gus’s large shoe stepped on the back of Shail’s neck, smashing his face and throat against the pavement. Held firmly, Shail felt the ropes cut off his wings, and he attempted to flap them, but the men pulled and stretched his limbs.

  “Pull tight,” said Gus. “The more length, the more he’s worth.”

  Four men unmercifully yanked his wings, nearly ripping them out of their sockets. Shail panted and his eyes watered with pain while Lester measured the wing length with a laser beam.

  “Sixteen ten,” said Lester.

  “Too bad,” Gus said. “A few more years, and this buck would’ve been fully mature, making a fine trophy.”

  They released his wings, letting them collapse. Shail trembled with throbbing pain and couldn’t move or fold his wings against his back.

  “Let see if he’s sexually mature,” Gus said, taking his foot off the harpy’s neck and shoving the creature to its side.

  Traumatized, Shail could only lay still. Lifting his sash, the man seized his penis and pulled while his other hand squeezed his testicles. Shail hissed and attempted to pull up his legs, but felt his testicles being crushed.

  “Hurts, don’t it?” Gus smirked. “You’re gonna pay for that kick to my face.”

  Shail hardly could breathe, and only by lying still did the stabbing pain end. He sensed Gus’s mind, and what he detected scared him. Twisted, poisoned thoughts dwelled in the man’s evil conscience. Never had Shail encountered such a vile and ruthless human. During his brush with the mountain and island hunters, he had sensed their cruelty, but they paled compared to Gus.

  “This buck is well hung and old enough to be a stud,” Gus said, examining Shail’s sex organs. “Nice balls, too. I can’t wait to cut them off and watch him squirm.”

  “You’re taking his balls?” Jerry asked, flinching.

  “Yeah, wings ain’t the only trophy you take off a harpy. Treat the skin and the balls makes ni
ce money pouches. Tourists love ’em, will spend a fortune.” He released his hold and stood. “Tie up his wings before he recovers.”

  As the men folded and bound Shail’s wings, he curled up to relieve the smarting ache to his testicles and shuddered, having learned the purpose for harpy castration.

  “So you’ll give us a hundred and fifty thousand for him?” asked Sam.

  “Sure,” said Gus and looked at Lester and Bert. “Go fetch a credit voucher and a cage for this little beauty. Also bring back my training stick.”

  Jerry hooked his laser gun to his belt and stood next to Sam. “No wonder he fought us so hard,” he said, staring at the pathetic, trembling harpy.

  Gus came alongside of them. “Yeah, he’ll pay for beating up you boys. I’ve heard you’re supposed to stretch goldens for a day before they’re defeathered, and stab holes in their liver. The feathers turn bright yellow from the damage. It’s a prettier mount.”

  “Jesus, the poor thing,” said Jerry and leaned toward Sam. “Maybe someone else wants to buy him.”

  “Come on, boys. Don’t feel sorry for it,” Gus said. “Feel sorry for yourselves.” He grabbed Jerry’s laser gun, ripping it off his belt, and pointed the weapon at Jerry and Sam. He looked down at the weapon and scowled. “You got this set for stun. That won’t work.” He adjusted the gun to blast.

  “Wait a minute, mister,” Jerry cried.

  Gus fired at the two dumbfounded men, and their bodies dropped near Shail. Shail stared up at the sick grin on Gus while the man kicked the corpses, making sure they were dead. Lester and Bert returned from the warehouse with a long, narrow cage and a three-foot-long rod.

  “You should’ve seen these assholes’ faces.” Gus chuckled. “They really thought they’d get paid. Throw their bodies in the river. The jungle will take care of the evidence.”