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Flight of the Golden Harpy Page 3


  One of the onlookers broke in. “She hasn’t fed them. We’ve been watching.”

  The zookeeper rubbed his chin and watched the small harpies. “They usually keep their distance and only come close at feeding time,” he said. “For some reason, miss, they like you.”

  “And I like them,” Kari said.

  “You must’ve recently arrived on Dora.” The zookeeper chuckled. “The local Dorians consider them pests, like rats.”

  “I did arrive yesterday from Earth, but I was born on Dora and have always liked the harpies. They’re so elegant, and resemble humans. I don’t understand the Dorians’ animosity toward them.”

  “I admit harpies are pretty things, but they have an ugly reputation. Harpy is a Greek word meaning ‘to steal,’ and in Greek mythology, they were loathsome, winged beasts. When Dora was first settled and there were many harpy flocks, men had to guard their wives and daughters since harpies would take them. That’s why these creatures were named harpies.”

  “I don’t believe those old stories,” Kari said flatly. “A harpy saved me from a mogel and flew me home. He had plenty of opportunity to kidnap me.”

  The stout keeper frowned at Kari. “And when did this happen?”

  “Ten years ago in the outback.” She reached down and pulled up her khaki pants. “Here’s the scar from the mogel bite.”

  “Would you mind talking to our new vet? He’s doing research on the harpies but hasn’t had much luck with information. He’d love to hear your story.”

  Kari glanced at her timepiece. “I have to catch a noon flight, but could spare a few minutes.”

  The zookeeper escorted Kari to a building marked for employees. She waited in an office and heard men’s voices behind a door.

  “She’s in the office, Doctor.” The door opened and a middle-aged man appeared, followed by the zookeeper.

  The doctor raised one eyebrow, scrutinizing Kari. “I’m Dr. Watkins,” he said, extending his hand. “Mike says you like harpies and had physical contact with one. Would you mind telling me about it?”

  The vet’s skepticism matched her own. “Why are you studying the harpies?”

  “Dora’s government hired me,” said Watkins. “I’m a genetic expert and conduct studies on threatened species, their habits, and environment. If I can find hard evidence that harpies are endangered, new laws may be imposed to limit or ban hunting until they recover.”

  “I see,” Kari said. “Since your study might help the harpies, I’ll tell you about my incident, but it happened when I was a child. I don’t see how it’ll benefit your research now.”

  “Any information on these mysterious creatures is valuable,” said Watkins.

  Both men listened intently as she told them about the lake and the golden harpy.

  “That’s remarkable,” Watkins commented when she finished. “Plenty of men have documented their hunts, but you’re the first woman to discuss an encounter with a feral and uninjured harpy.” Dr. Watkins seemed no longer dubious of her story. “You asked this golden male to take you home, and he flew you there, knowing where you lived?”

  “Yes,” Kari said. “Is that so amazing?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Either the harpy understood the English language or it sensed your desires and where you lived. It’s unlikely a wild harpy knows our language, so it relied on its instincts. The sixth sense or instincts allow animals to communicate with one another. I’m betting you also have strong instincts.” Watkins smiled. “The creature probably sensed you liked him. That’s why he helped you.”

  “But, Dr. Watkins,” the old keeper said, “those fledglings understand and come when I call, especially if food is involved.”

  “Most animals can be trained to respond to certain words, but Kari spoke to a wild harpy, and not only did it take her home, but he also treated her wound and tied a strip of cloth on her leg. It proves these creatures are intelligent, even gentle.”

  “Have you ever tried talking to an adult harpy?”

  “Talking?” He sighed. “There’s never been time for talk. I was told that the adults die in captivity, but a month ago, I had the zoo purchase two stunned males from hunters. The harpies immediately curled up in a ball and suffered from shock. I managed to treat the shock, but one still died the following night from a heart attack. The remaining harpy wouldn’t eat or drink and had to be tube fed. I was finally making real progress with the little fellow and released him into a larger cage. Before he could be restrained, he flew against the bars and broke his neck. I’ve never dealt with such difficult and fragile creatures. Learning how they communicate or if they’re intelligent are on the bottom of my list.”

  Watkins wearily rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s impossible to get an accurate count on the flocks, and the few harpies that are sighted, caught, or killed are always males. Their females and breeding grounds have yet to be discovered. It’s rumored they nest on the western islands. Our zoo’s fledglings came from there.”

  Pausing to take a deep breath and control his frustration, he continued. “And now I’m dealing with a pair of loca eagles that the zoo recently acquired. I learned that harpies have fifty percent of the same DNA as locas, proving they’re related. The other fifty percent of a harpy’s DNA is human. This gives credibility to the stories of harpies stealing and molesting women. Since no female harpy has ever been found, it’s conceivable that male harpies used female locas, women, or both to create their offspring. These harpies are so baffling it’s hard to know what is truth or fiction when studying them.”

  “I’ve never seen a loca eagle,” Kari said.

  “You won’t, unless you visit the western islands. One hundred years ago they covered the continent, but overhunting reduced their numbers to a few remaining flocks. That’s always the trouble with endangered animals. By the time a study is done, it’s almost too late.”

  Kari lowered her head. “Is it too late for the harpies?”

  “I hope not.”

  Kari glanced at the time. “I must go or I’ll miss my flight. If I can help you in any way, please let me know. I do owe the golden my life.”

  “My research is stalled here, and I can’t learn much from these captive fledglings,” said Watkins. “I may come to the outback for my answers. Perhaps you could show me this lake.”

  “I’ll do anything if it ends the hunting,” she said, leaving the office. The old zookeeper accompanied her up the path toward the harpy cage. The fledglings were curled up on the branch, sound asleep.

  The old man motioned to another aviary. “The loca eagles are over there.” Kari rushed down the path to the huge cage. The two large winged creatures were perched on a tree limb, but they looked nothing like an eagle. Their six-foot bodies were covered with small brown feathers, and they resembled a furry ape with wings. Only their large, green eyes and elfish facial features were similar to a harpy’s. She hurried toward the exit to catch the shuttle.

  * * *

  Reaching the street, Kari hopped aboard the shuttle. A short ride later, she arrived at the port. She gathered her things and walked toward the large circular ship. Before stepping inside, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. “Kari,” Ted yelled from beneath a small spaceship. “I’ll miss you.” She blew him a kiss and stepped inside the hovercraft.

  A stewardess confirmed her ticket and said, “You can sit where you wish. This flight does not have assigned seating.”

  Kari took a window seat across from an older businessman. She looked out the window in anticipation. The hovercraft rose through the port doors and moved rapidly west. Within minutes, the city of Hampton and surrounding small farms disappeared from sight. Beneath the ship lay the vast jungle. Like a giant painting, the landscape exploded with the multicolored trees. She had been starving for this feast of beauty. The breathtaking view became overwhelming. She swallowed the lump growing in her throat and fought her moistening eyes. She truly was home.

  As the jungle drifted past, she set
tled down, her gaze glued to the scenery. Glimpses of the highway appeared beneath the thick underbrush. The road ran from coast to coast across the continent. “That’s my road,” she thought, considering her journey. After Terrance, the highway would become a narrow, ill-kept path through the true jungle. Periodically, she saw a store with nearby homes and farms—remnants of civilization encased in the wilderness. Several small towns briefly appeared but were quickly replaced by the countless trees. Once she passed the river city of Terrance, very few settlements existed, much to Kari’s delight. In three hours, the flight would end and her adventure would begin. She twirled her long hair in anticipation.

  She glanced at the businessman consumed in his reading. Without looking up, he said, “This must be your first trip across the continent. It’s very impressive, isn’t it?”

  Kari sat back in her seat, realizing her enthusiasm must have been obvious. “I was born in the outback, but I haven’t seen it in a long time.”

  “So you’re going home to Terrance?” He kept his eyes fixed on his reading machine.

  “My home is north of Westend, near the coast.”

  “I’m familiar with Westend. It’s a quaint little town. My name is Dan Roberts. I’m an appraiser for the Hampton Bank, so I travel a great deal.”

  “Kari Turner.”

  For the first time, the man took true interest in her and put aside his reading machine. “Any relation to John Turner?”

  “He’s my father.”

  “Well, it’s a great pleasue to meet you, Miss Turner,” he said, smiling. “Your father is one of our best customers and has the largest timber estate in the outback. About now, he must be a worried man.”

  “Worried?”

  “The beetle swarms—they’re consuming the western continent,” he said. “Surely you’ve heard about them.”

  “No, but I only arrived yesterday from Earth, and I haven’t spoken to my father in some time.”

  “The farther west we travel, you’ll begin to see the damage from these wood-eating insects,” said Roberts. “They destroy everything—houses, farms, and timber. Nothing kills them. Every insecticide known to man has been sprayed to no avail. Even surrounding them with fire has failed. The beetles simply spread their wings and fly away. I’m appraising a few farms north of Terrance that were hit by a swarm. Only the equipment may be salvageable. At the rate the beetles are multiplying and destroying timber, the whole economy of this planet will be in the toilet in a few years.”

  “Have they struck my father’s estate?”

  “Let’s take a look.” Roberts pulled a narrow computer out from under his seat. Tapping the keys, he scanned the Turner Estate—one hundred miles wide that ran six hundred miles north along the west coast into Dora’s highest mountain range. The residence and wood mill were located at the southern tip, ten miles north of Westend. “Your father’s been lucky so far, but the beetles struck some homes south of Westend a few months ago. How are you traveling from Terrance to Westend?”

  “I’m renting a terrain vehicle and taking the old road.”

  “By yourself?”

  Kari nodded.

  “That’s a two-day journey on a dilapidated road through the heart of the jungle,” he said. “If you have trouble, you’ll find few places to stop. Besides the dangerous wildlife, there are the swarms that can clog an engine and leave you stranded.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “Well, you may have trouble renting a vehicle to such a remote area, but even a small hovercraft is dangerous. Several hunters recently died in a hover crash when the engines became clogged with beetles. This large hover flies too high for the swarms to be a threat.” He closed the computer and shoved it under the seat. “In an hour, you’ll see some of the areas that have been destroyed.”

  Kari turned her attention back to the window. When they approached the middle of the continent, she saw the blackened dirt of the forest floor—evidence of a swarm strike. Nothing remained. Like locusts, the beetles had consumed everything. The giant hovercraft swiftly moved over the vacant land, and jungle appeared again. She looked at Roberts. “I saw one. The swarm damage is unbelievable. How long has this been going on?”

  “It started two years ago,” he said. “The first swarm struck the southwestern territory, but now the swarms are everywhere in the west, and there’s no consistency to their movement. It’s only a matter of time before they head east. So far, no town has suffered a direct hit, but people are plenty concerned.”

  Kari shook her head and stared out the window. Her father would be one of those concerned about something so devastating that it could destroy everything he and her grandfather had sought to protect. Her thoughts turned to her grandfather. She remembered trailing him through the forest with his bag of seedlings. For every tree cut, he’d replace it with a seedling. When they entered an area scheduled for harvesting, he’d mark the massive thousand-year-old trees with red ribbon so they’d be spared.

  Tying a ribbon around the wide trunks, he’d say, “These old ones have stood the test of time through hurricanes and drought. They’ve earned our respect, Kari. And mankind doesn’t deserve their wood.” Saving nature was a religion to him.

  After her grandfather’s death, her father had continued the practice, so the Turner Estate was different from other timberlands. The trees were harvested, but the jungle remained. Other timber companies practiced clear-cutting. Every tree, young and old, was taken, leaving the land as marred as if a forest fire had struck. Like her father and grandfather, her passion for trees was bred into her.

  Her father faced a battle to save what she also cherished. Feeling sympathetic for him, she decided to put her bitterness aside and give him the opportunity to rectify their damaged relationship. He didn’t need additional trouble from her.

  Out the window, the northern mountain range appeared and sloped southward. The sleek black peaks jetted out of a kaleidoscope jungle, piercing a grayish-green sky. The large hovercraft was nearing the outback. Mr. Roberts had gone back to his reading, and Kari kept her vigilant watch of the ground. As they approached Terrance, she saw more barren places created by the swarms. Some areas were vast and miles wide and others encompassed only the equivalent of a few city blocks. With man’s advanced technology, why hadn’t anyone found a solution to the destructive beetles? Man had beaten nature on Earth, but sadly, at a terrible cost.

  Mr. Roberts closed his reading machine. “We’ll be setting down soon, Miss Turner. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Same here and thanks for the information.”

  “You be careful in that jungle when you head home. You’re far too lovely to be lost.”

  She nodded and looked out the window as Duran, Dora’s sun, was setting in the west. The sky filled with pinks, oranges, and gold. The warm-toned rays shot through the wispy purple clouds on the horizon. In the distance, Kari saw the mighty river that snaked its way through jungle camouflage. The hover slowed, passed the river, and descended toward Terrance. Large barges loaded with precious lumber floated on the wide body of water and journeyed southward toward the ocean, then on to Hampton. From Hampton, the exotic wood would travel the galaxy to other planets.

  Terrance rose from the riverbanks with a display of colorful Victorian buildings. Kari saw the meadows and farmlands merging into distant hills. A large black void of barren land rested to the north, and she recognized the swarm’s deadly mark. The town had barely escaped a strike.

  The hover set down on a large paved lot. A building stood nearby and off to its side were assorted small hovercrafts parked in no particular order. Farther out, were two large timber freighters. Hearing the hover doors open, Kari and Mr. Roberts picked up their belongings and moved up the aisle. “It’s not as fancy as the indoor port at Hampton,” he commented.

  She reached the exit. “I think I like it better. This town has a lot of charm.”

  He smirked. “Well, this open port is not so charming during the rainy season.”
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  Kari walked toward the building with the other passengers. Once inside, she went to the information desk to inquire about a vehicle rental.

  “Westend?” said the man behind the counter. “There’s no connecting office in Westend, and we don’t rent vehicles to go that far. I can get you on a hover shuttle tomorrow. That’s the best I can do.”

  Kari sighed, “Okay, book me on it.”

  “Sounds like you need a ride,” said an older man’s voice over her shoulder.

  Kari whirled around and saw Charlie. She dropped her belongings and threw her arms around the old Indian. She choked up with emotion. “Oh, Charlie, I’m so happy to see you.”

  “And I, you. You are a sight for my old eyes.” He hugged her tightly. After a long heartfelt moment, they pulled apart.

  “Why are you in Terrance?”

  He scowled. “To take you home. I figured you might try to drive that deserted road alone. Did you think your father or I would allow this? The jungle is still very dangerous, or have you forgotten?”

  Kari beamed. “I haven’t forgotten, and there’s no other person on the planet I’d rather be with on my trip home.”

  Charlie picked up her bags. “My vehicle is this way.” He strolled to the doorway.

  Kari smiled. Charlie was never one for much talk. She followed the old man with long gray braids toward the parking lot, and he stopped at a green vehicle. He stored her bags in the back and opened Kari’s passenger door. “The light will be gone soon,” he said. “Do you want to stay in Terrance and start fresh in the morning or travel the road tonight? There is a small inn a few hours away. It is not fancy, but the food is good.”

  Kari glanced at the vibrant buildings decorated with carved wooden posts and white lattice. “I’m sure the hotels here are superior to the inn on the road, but I’d prefer to be in the jungle. I’ve had my fill of civilization.”

  They climbed into the vehicle and Charlie pushed the start button. The terrain vehicle rose a foot off the ground. He glanced at her. “You have grown into a beautiful woman, but your soul remains the same. This pleases me.”