Flight of the Golden Harpy (47 page)

BOOK: Flight of the Golden Harpy
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“We must follow the harpies now,” Kari said to her father.

“She’ll be safe?” John asked.

Aron made a slight nod.

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

“How?” asked Kari.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*   *   *

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

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

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

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

“It works,” Ted answered.

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

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

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

“What does it concern?” the man asked.

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

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

“Yes,” John answered.

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

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

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

“This is an emergency.” John yelled.

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

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

“He took off,” Ted said.

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

“You really believe the swarms are coming?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The man huffed and walked aside with John.

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

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

“Try dead serious,” John said.

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

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

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

“The harpies warned me,” John said.

The supervisor frowned at him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Turner, it’s suicide. There’s not enough time to go there and come back.”

John reached in his tote bag and pulled out his laser gun. “There’s enough time for me to get there. I have to free Shail. He is the ruler of the harpies who can destroy these swarms, but unless he tells them, they won’t do it. Shail is the only one who can save these people and this planet. Understand? Now do you have a hover?”

Ted wearily rubbed his forehead and started for a door. “Yeah, I was working on one on the landing strip. The electrical systems are fried for the air conditioner and lights, but the motor is fine.”

They left the domed building and jogged across the vast landing strip. “It’s three lanes over,” Ted said. They reached the hover. “You might need help. I’ll go with you.”

“No,” John said. “I need you to get my daughter off Dora if everything is in ruin. Aron will find you and bring Kari. I want you to get her on a ship.” He clasped Ted’s shoulder. “Just stay alive for me, boy. I’m depending on you.”

Ted nodded and John fired up the small hovercraft and was soon airborne.

*   *   *

John landed the hover in the middle of the street in front of Simpson’s hunting range. He leaped from the craft and bolted through the doors, his laser ready to fire. Walking across the room, he stopped and dismally stared at the empty display cage.

“Sorry, Mr. Turner, we’re closed,” said a voice.

John wheeled around and pointed his weapon at Bill Simpson, who casually entered the room.

“Where’s the harpy?” John asked.

“Gone. The new owner took him last night. I imagine he’s on a ship heading for his new hunting range, but I’ll have others just as vicious now that I know how to turn one.”

John aimed the weapon at Bill. “How do you turn a gentle creature into a man-killer?”

“I owe that to my crazed brother, Gus, and his two pals. They tied that proud little stud to the top of a cage and took turns raping him all night. Gus claimed the blond was the best piece of ass he’s ever had.” Bill grinned. “It’s rather ironic that my brother’s best lay ended up killing him. Guess the little stud didn’t enjoy it.”

John lowered his weapon and felt ill. He understood why Shail had killed and lost his will to live.

“Well, you came all this way, Mr. Turner,” Bill said. “I don’t want you to leave empty handed. There’re a few fledglings through that door in the back room. Help yourself; my compliments.” The whole building suddenly became dark as a great shadow passed overhead. “The swarms!” Bill yelled and raced to the door.

John started to follow him, but stopped and ran toward the back room. In the room animal cages lined the walls. He hurried past until he found the two tiny fledglings crouched in the straw. They were weanlings and hadn’t completely molted their down, making them incapable of flight. He blasted the cage lock and opened the door.

“Come on, little guys,” he said. Too frightened, they cowered in the straw and sniffled for compassion. He reached in, took one in his arm and gently stroked its head. The cherub-looking fledgling clung to John’s neck, longing for a parent. He thought of Kari’s baby. Scared to be alone, the second fledgling crept across the straw into his arms.

Holding the fledglings, John raced from the building. Although midmorning, it seemed like evening, with black clouds of beetles blotting out the sun. The swarms were flying to the heart of Hampton and had yet to settle. Looking at the street, he saw that Simpson had taken his hover. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he growled.

A vehicle parked by the front door apparently belonged to the range owner. John opened the vehicle door, climbed in, and placed the fledglings in the passenger seat. When he fired the engine, the first beetle hit the windshield and then another. He pushed the vehicle to its top speed, and palm-size bugs pelted the transport. After only two miles, the beetles invaded the engines, and the vehicle fell a short distance to the ground, clogged and silent. Catching a glimpse out the window through the mass of beetles, he saw that everything—buildings, street, trees—was blanketed in black. There was no place to run, no escape.

The crunching and buzzing sound was deafening. The two pint-size fledglings curled up in tight balls covered with their meager wings and trembled. John sighed and bundled them in his arms. Their tiny arms wrapped around his neck. “It’s okay, little guys,” he said. “It’ll be over soon.”

19

Shail stirred, and his half-opened eyes attempted to focus, but all was hazy. He was familiar with the groggy effect of tranquilizers that forced unwanted sleep. He lay still, waiting for his mind to clear. Smelling the moist air and the fragrance of seasonal flowers, he realized his jungle was near. His body felt comfortable so he ran his hand across the plush, silky material beneath him. He was resting on a human bed; its white sheets matched the vague white walls. He shook his head, hating the lethargic feeling that hindered his senses and strength. Gazing across the large room, he saw numerous potted plants and fancy carved furniture. He realized no chains or shackles clung to his wrists, and the shock collar had been removed from his neck, a clean harpy sash hung off his hips. Hearing a songbird, he slightly elevated his head above the pillows, but looked past the bird at the open balcony window at gray clouds. No cage bars held him. Only his weak, drugged body kept him from the freedom of open sky.

Struggling to rise, he reeled with dizziness and then saw the drug patch on his arm. The same patch the old doctor had used on him. He ripped it off and lay down, hoping to recover quickly and regain his balance before the hunters came.

BOOK: Flight of the Golden Harpy
13.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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