Prior
to that point in my life, I had never woken before 7 AM. Ruth had
always been up well before me to go jogging. But when I opened my
eyes, the room was dim, and Ruth was snoring in her bunk above me. I
blinked, wondering if I was still dreaming. But I turned my head and
saw that the clock read 5:05.
Through
the window, I could see the barest rays of light peeking through the
clouds, and I could hear the birds twittering and chirping like their
day had begun an hour ago.
And
I had the oddest thought that it would be cool to try eating mice.
I
scratched at an itch on my neck. I felt something smooth and flexible
beneath my fingers. Oh, great. This was going faster than I’d
hoped. By the Sabbath I was going to turn into a sparrow or
something. They were going to be blessing me
on
Bless The Animals Day. Great. I threw the covers off, rolled out of
bed, and yanked my desk drawer open, rummaging through it for my tape
measure.
As
I hastily extended the tape, I heard Ruth’s snoring hitch. She
rolled over and opened her eyes. “Rani? What are you doing?”
“Checking,”
I said, pulling the tape down until it hit the floor, then bending
the whole thing over my head. I checked the tape where it bent. Five
foot six. Same as ever. I pushed the button and the tape retracted
with a metallic smack.
“That
woke
me up,” said Ruth. “What’s your worry?”
“I
wanted to see if I was shrinking,” I said. “I’m turning into a
bird, right? Unless I’m turning into an emu, I ought to be getting
shorter by now.”
“We
really have no idea what’s going to happen to you,” said Ruth.
She frowned. “We should. Professor Windsor should know. They should
have an idea. Why don’t they have an idea?”
“Because
the formula is from Doctor Morrow and they’ve probably never tested
it before?”
Ruth
sighed. “Alright. So that’s one thing to note about this Doctor
Morrow: he seems to treat his lab as a testing area rather than a
place for theory. Where’s the theory happening, then? Where is he?
Maybe today you can ask Professor Windsor where the guy lives?”
“If
I can get a word in edgewise,” I said. I scratched at my neck
again. “Damn, I wonder if I’ll be able to fulfill my end of the
deal pretty soon. Maybe I ought to give you all the kisses now.”
Ruth
giggled. “Oh, now
you’re
into it. Alright, come here.”
I’m
sure she was expecting a basic smooch, but I kissed her all over her
face.
She
laughed. “I guess you’re good to your word,” she said. “Two
can play at that game.” She lunged forward and started kissing me
all over my face.
But
after a few minutes of this, I pulled away.
Ruth
looked concerned. “Rani? What’s wrong?”
“It’s…we
don’t know how my condition will progress. We don’t know if
there’s going to be a cure. We don’t know if we’re going to
fulfill Artemis’ bargain.” I hung my head. “If we fail Artemis,
if there is no cure…if this is permanent…whatever happens, will
you stay with me?”
I
felt a hand under my chin. Ruth tilted my head up to meet her gaze.
Her face was utterly sincere. “To the end, my fine feathered
friend. To the end.”
…
As
I stood in front of the giant bird, once again out of its pen, I
wondered if I should have insisted on Ruth literally staying with me
at all times. Not that she could have saved my hide, of course, but
having emotional support at the end would have been nice.
Then
again, I would have been dragging her into danger. That would have
been rude. As it was, there was a new grad assistant right beside me
in this courtyard – more like looming over me, really, he was at
least a head taller – and he
was
getting dragged into danger. He certainly didn’t look like he
wanted to be here. He had that look of innocent nervousness I was
used to seeing on the faces of freshmen.
The
giant bird stared down at us with a critical eye. It didn’t make a
move, so I thought maybe it wouldn’t eat us. But it wasn’t
backing off either.
I
turned to Professor Windsor. “Hey, boss, couldn’t we have done
this with birdy boy here on the other side of a cage?”
“Are
you talking about the experimental subject,” said the Professor,
“or yourself? Ah, but you’re also an experimental subject, are
you not? Something to consider. Anyway! You wanted me to do a
replication study, so we’re doing it. That means re-creating the
conditions as closely as possible.”
“What
were the conditions?” said the new guy.
“Well
for one thing, the bird was angry.” The Professor took out a small
plastic device and pushed a button.
There
was a thunderous ear-piercing screech, and new guy and I clapped our
hands over our ears. “Ow!
Jeez! What the hell! ”
“Exactly!”
said
the bird. “Why
are you working with this jerk!”
“New
guy isn’t a jerk!”
“You
know exactly who I’m talking about!”
“How
are you making those sounds with your mouth?” said the new guy.
“Let’s
just say I got roped into something that could cause me a lot of
trouble.” I glared at the bird. “I’m
working with this place because if I try to fly away I’ll never be
able to fly home.”
“Teach
ME to fly, dammit!”
I
hesitated. If the bird got out, it would have been a hilarious mess
right up until someone got killed.
The
bird glared down at me. “You
promised.”
“I
never explicitly said it would be me, but –”
“One
more time to be certain,” said Professor Windsor. They pushed the
button again, and the bird screamed, knocking me and new guy back on
our rears.
“Dammit,”
I
said, “Alright,
bird, if you can just stop shouting at me like that, I’ll do my
best to teach you how to fly, alright?”
The
bird fell silent.
“Extraordinary!”
said Professor Windsor. “You can communicate with the creature
reliably! Alright, now do it with the bird being calm.”
“I
think that ship has sailed,” said the new guy. “Maybe we should
have done that part first?”
Professor
Windsor blinked. “Oh. Yes. I really should have. Oh well, just do
your best right now.” They tossed the plastic device far behind
them. “I’ve got enough data from that part anyway.”
I
looked up at the bird, and bowed. “I’m
really sorry about all this.”
“Are
you saying this pain is all your fault?”
“No,
no. I mean I feel sorrow.”
“Fair.”
“Do
you…have a name?”
The
bird looked puzzled. “What
is a name?”
“A
word I use to distinguish you from those like you. I mean, not that
there’s anyone quite like you, but –”
“You
are like me, yes? You have feathers. You have been hurt by this
place.”
Okay,
that was a fair point, and it was also precisely how I was managing
to talk to this critter. But it wasn’t something I wanted to think
about at the moment. “Leave
that aside. What shall I call you?”
The
bird ruffled its feathers a bit, shook its shoulders and then settled
down to the ground, putting its massive head right in my face, so
fast that I didn’t even have time to flinch. “I
like you. You pick.”
For
a moment I stood there blinking. “Uh…Rook?”
Rook
stood tall and lifted their head to the sky, letting out a mighty
cry.
“Glad
to know you like it. Can you go back into your pen now?”
“I
wish to learn to fly! Teach me now while there is time!”
“The
Professor is going to try to keep experimenting here if you don’t
get back inside.”
“I
will eat the mean Professor, then.”
“No!
No eating! Just wait for tonight and I’ll try to help you out,
alright?”
Rook
hissed, and slunk back through the gate. Not that they would have any
trouble charging right back out, of course, the thing was still
broken. But they didn’t.
“What
was that all about?” said the new guy.
“The
bird’s name is Rook,” I said. “And you? What about you? I can’t
keep calling you ‘new guy’, can I?”
“You
can call me Guy,” said the new guy. “Because that’s my name.”
I
raised an eyebrow. Well, it was a name, if in rare parlance.
“Alright, Guy, welcome to the first circle of hell. I’m your
host, Rani. Now why don’t you tell the audience what brought you
into this mess?”
“Work-study,”
said Guy. He shrugged. “You know how it is.”
I
narrowed my eyes. I knew how it was, alright. But if that’s how it
was for him –
My
train of thought was interrupted by Professor Windsor’s squeal of
delight. “This is fascinating! You really can communicate with that
bird in all circumstances! What were you discussing?”
I
hesitated, wondering how much I ought to tell this nutcase.
“They’re…really annoyed.”
The
Professor nodded. “I suspected as much.”
“They
would like to fly.”
“Out
of the question,” said the Professor. “Unless we could accompany
them in a hot air balloon, or a blimp. I ought to build one of those
anyway. Anyway, we need to test you on the birds of the wild, now.”
I
was already tired of this place today. “Can I do that on my own
time? I, uh, have homework…”
“Of
course,” said Professor Windsor, thrusting a packet of papers into
my hands. “This is a field study, after all. Record anything you
hear. Do not censor anything.”
“Um…”
“Do
not censor anything.”
…
Fortunately
for me, my condition had not yet progressed to the point where I
could actually understand other birds. Which was just as well. They
probably had nothing worth saying.
Still,
as I sat at my desk, writing an English essay and watching the sun go
down, I wondered about what I was assuming. That my condition would
not only continue to progress, but that it would necessarily render
me able to talk with the animals…walk with the animals…grunt and
squeak and squawk with the animals…well, some
people
found that worthwhile. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to actually have
the chance to find out for myself. I would never call myself a
scientist – not the way Professor Windsor wanted me to be. I didn’t
have that insatiable curiosity or dedication to experimental rigor.
But I knew enough of animal behavior myself to know that they had
their own, plainly non-primate ways of seeing things.
I
heard the door open, and footsteps behind me. I didn’t turn around.
“Rani,”
said Ruth. “You always greet me at the door.”
I
still didn’t turn around. “Are you that surprised that I don’t
feel like it today?”
Silence,
for a moment. “No. I guess I shouldn’t be. How are you feeling?”
“Well,
I’m feeling like I have every right to stare out this window and
brood.”
“Seems
appropriate for a bird, eh? Especially if you lay eggs someday.”
I sighed,
and turned around at last. There was Ruth, looking only slightly less chipper
than usual. “I wish I could say enough with the bird talk,” I
said, “but it is kind of my entire life right now. And, ah, I may
have, in a certain sense, adopted a bird.”
“Oh!”
said Ruth. “Where is it? May I see? Is it cute? Of course it is,
what am I saying, all birds are cute. Especially you.” She tossed
her books on her bed. “Show me.”
“Ah…they’re
a little too large for that.”
Ruth
raised an eyebrow. She pulled up a chair, turned it around backwards
and sat down in it, resting her arms on the seat. “Go on.”
I
explained the situation with Rook, including how I had promised to
teach them to fly. By the end of my recounting, Ruth was resting her
face in her hands.
“You
okay?”
“I’m
wondering if you’re
okay,”
said Ruth. She raised her head and looked at me with concern. “This
ornithology lab is dragging you in way over your head. First thing
tomorrow I’m going to see about legal options. Your workplace is
now officially horrifically unsafe –”
“It’s
fine, Rook likes me.”
“Until
they don’t! And what about the fumes, the sloppiness – no, I’m
sorry Rani, I can’t put up with this. You’ve been hurt by this
lab too much. Stay away from it as much as you can.”
“Despite
the promise I made to Rook?”
Ruth
sighed. “I am not going to begrudge you the fulfillment of a
promise.”
“I…kind
of would have expected you to veto the bit about getting near Rook
again.”
“Oh
no,” said Ruth. “That is not what I will do.”
…
We
stood at the door into the Morrow Lab. I was fiddling with the
electronic lock. “How many times do I have to tell you to go back
to the dorm?”, I grumbled.
“Endless
times,” said Ruth. “I told you I was with you to the end. Don’t
worry, I’ll just hang back and be ready to run and fetch the
emergency services.”
“Or
you could just call them.”
Ruth
scoffed. “What fun is that? Ah, but a call could probably get there
faster. But wait, if I call them while
I’m
running, maybe the call will get there even faster!”
“I
am pretty sure radio waves don’t work like that.”
“Fine,
Herr Doktor. You know about Super Science more than I
do.”
“I
really don’t,” I said. “Just a decent command of biology, not
whatever crap Professor Windsor is coming up with.”
“Well
anyway,” said Ruth, “with your expert knowledge of science in
mind, I will hang back and keep watch in case I need to call for help.”
“In
the lab that you said was full of fumes, that you didn’t want me to
hang around in?”
“In
the courtyard, if that’s possible. At the far end. With
binoculars.”
“Did
you bring any?”
She
rummaged in her bag and brought out a small pair. “Never leave home
without them.”
“What
on earth do you –”
“Bird
watching,” said Ruth. “And law-classes stuff, never mind, it’s
not important.”
I
rolled my eyes and kept at my task. Eventually the lock sprang open.
“Goodness,”
said Ruth. “There really is no lock that can foil you. Were you a
terror to your parents?”
“It
is not relevant, because you will never meet them, nor will I speak
to them again.”
“Oh
my God, are they –”
“Dead
to me,” I said. “Not to the world, alas. Anyway, come on.” I
pushed the door open. It creaked rather loudly, causing both of us to
cringe. “Dammit,” I muttered, “should have known a Mad
Scientist would have doors that only creak ominously at night.
Whatever, let’s get a move on before we’re spotted.” I took
Ruth by the hand and led her through the door.
The
interior of the lab was, much like the door itself, far more ominous
at night than a dark lab deserved to be. Glowing things bubbled in
glass retorts and flasks which I hadn’t even seen by day.
Scratching and skittering sounded from counters that had been empty.
I’m pretty sure I saw glowing red eyes from a cage that hadn’t
been there this afternoon.
“This
doesn’t feel very much like your regular science operation,” said
Ruth, as we passed between the counters. “This feels more like…like
a hack author’s rendition of a Mad Scientist’s lab. What on earth
is Professor Windsor up to? What is this Doctor Morrow having them
do? And why?”
“Something
we can investigate at our leisure,” I said, “now that I figured
out the lock. If you’re willing to brave the Spooky Laboratory,
that is.”
We
made our way through the Spooky Laboratory towards the great steel
gates in the courtyard. Or what was left of them. They remained wide
open.
“What
I don’t understand,” murmured Ruth, “is how the school agreed
to build these things for the lab. It’s like they knew Professor
Windsor was going to make something that needed to be contained.”
“Something
tells me the school isn’t aware of this place’s primary source of
income,” I whispered.
“Correct,”
whispered a voice behind me. I jumped, and whirled around. There was
Professor Windsor, looking as eager as ever.
“Professor,
I, uh, we were just –”
“Doing
something adventurous,” said the Professor. “Taking matters into
your own hands. Excellent work, my dear pupil. I’ll make a Mad
Scientist of you yet. What are
you
up to, though? Perhaps I can help?”
I
just stood there, dumbfounded.
“Correct
me if I am wrong,” said Ruth, “but…you are Rani’s immediate
supervisor, correct?”
The
Professor nodded.
“And
you’re not only allowing but encouraging them to break into a
school facility, subvert your authority, approach a potential danger
– why are you acting like this okay?”
“Well
you’re acting like it is.”
“You’re
Rani’s boss! You’re supposed to be trying to stop us!”
“I
am?” Professor Windsor looked puzzled. “Well, we can leave that
matter for tomorrow afternoon.” They glanced up at the sky. “Not
something to discuss out here in the open air. Just go on in. I’ll
be taking notes.”
Ruth
and I exchanged confused glances. Then she took me by the hand, and
led me through the gates.
Within
lay a set of barred gates, also in ruins. And in the darkness, I
could just make out a wall of feathers taller than me. Rook,
presumably fast asleep. The sound of their breath was like a gentle
bellows.
“You
know what,” I whispered, “I think may have made a slight
miscalculation in trying to do this at night.”
Suddenly
Rook’s head was right in my face, startling me into stepping
backwards and causing Ruth to yelp. “Teach
me now?”
“My
God, Rook, you sleep as lightly as a mouse! Can you not get up in my
face like that? Don’t you have sharp eyes like an eagle? Surely you
can spot me easily!”
“Instinct,”
said
Rook. “Sorry.”
They
drew back a bit.
“Come
on outside,”
I
said, and beckoned Rook to follow me. Their footfalls shook the
ground as they made their way out of the pen. Ruth, for her part, had
already retreated to the other side of the courtyard. Professor
Windsor was standing a bit closer, with notepad and pen in hand.
And
there beside them was Guy, looking as eager as Professor Windsor. I
threw up my hands. “Jesus Christ, is everyone here tonight? Are you
going to invite the Dean of Students too? Guy, what are you even
doing here?”
“Observing,”
said Guy. “You know, like a scientist is supposed to do? Empirical
research and all that?”
“This
might as well happen,” muttered Ruth. “I guess nobody’s
curiosity can be contained tonight.”
“Can
we get started?”
chirped
Rook.
“Spread
those wings,”
I
said, “and
we’ll see what you can do.”
As
Rook stood to their full height, and stretched their wings wide, I
wondered how on earth a creature of this size could possibly fly.
Even the Quetzalcoatlus of old wasn’t half as big as Rook. I
decided then that Rook couldn’t
fly,
and that I had promised something that wasn’t going to work out.
Which meant I needed to figure out a way out fast. Maybe duck between
Rook’s legs and escape through the gates. Yeah, like Rook wouldn’t
nab me immediately –
I
was knocked down by a great blast of wind as Rook started beating
their wings. Dust swirled about the courtyard, and I could barely see
a thing – yet in the solid beams of moonlight that came down
through the dust, I could see Rook’s form, rising from the ground.
Rook’s
footfalls had shaken the ground. They couldn’t possibly be light
enough to rise. So how the hell
were
they aloft? Had the laws of physics deserted me? Did they have a
blimp attached to their back? And, for that matter, how exactly were
Rook’s flight feathers so long? Feathers couldn’t get that long.
Nothing about them made sense.
The
ground shook again as Rook came back to earth.
“Well
dang,” muttered Guy, as he picked himself up out of the dirt. “It
worked.”
“Didn’t
work,”
said
Rook. “Hard
to get off the ground this way. Too much work. What else can I do?”
I
stood there speechless.
“Please,
my feathered friend. Tell me what else I can do.”
“You,
uh – maybe if you had a running start? But there’s no space in
here for that. Jumping from a cliff might do it, but there’s no
cliffs around – Don’t even think about it,”
I
said as Rook glanced at the tall clocktower in the distance.
Alright,
so options were slim. But Quetzalcoatlus had gotten off the ground,
right? It could fly, right? How was it supposed to do that? Something
about pole-vaulting off the ground with its big wings – but Rook
didn’t have the right kind of wings, did they?
They
did have powerful legs, though. “Alright,
Rook, this time I want you to jump as high as you can before you
start flapping. See if that works, alright?”
“Let’s
see.” Rook
crouched, and then sprang upwards, clearing the ground by ten feet.
Then they started flapping, once more creating a mighty wind within
the courtyard. This time, through the swirling dust, I could see Rook
rising steadily. Soon enough they were high in the air, twice as high
as the lab’s roof.
Then
they descended once more. I ducked as a blast of air hit me.
“How
was that, little bird? Did I do good?”
“You
went up,”
I
said, “but
not forward. That’s something we can work on another night, I’m
really sleepy right now. How are you feeling?”
“I
am feeling like someday I can go where I want. Because of you. Maybe
I will take you with me.”
“Do
I have a choice?”
“Maybe
I will not give you a choice. Maybe I will always carry you with me.
Maybe you shall never escape me.”
“That’s
rather rude, Rook. Especially to the only human who can communicate
with you.”
“You
are human? Like the Professor?”
I
nodded.
“But
you have feathers.”
I
looked down at my forearms. They were covered in blue-gray feathers
now. Ah, wonderful. My nightmare was proceeding apace. “It
is as you said, Rook. This place has hurt me.”
I
yawned. “And
now it’s keeping me awake.”
“I
am feeling very hungry,” said Rook. “Feed me?”
I
looked up at Rook. Which is to say, I was staring at a giant animal
that was very hungry, and could probably eat me in one bite. Not that
Rook would have done that to me, but, you know, if instinct took
over, who knew? I started to walk towards the gates.
I
felt a familiar hand on my shoulder. “Hey there birdbrain,” she
said. “It looks like you did good.”
“It’s
a start,” I murmured.
“It’s
scientifically implausible,” muttered Guy.
“It’s
marvelous!” said Professor Windsor behind me. “It’s incredible!
Doctor Morrow’s experiment worked better than I hoped! The bird
actually flies!”
I
whirled around. “The bird’s name is Rook,” I said. “They’re
a person, with a personality. Please stop referring to them as an
experiment. Honestly, you’re a biologist. You’ve worked before
with living creatures. You must know they all have personalities. Why
are you being callous now?”
Professor
Windsor glanced up at the sky. “I guess I’m just a ditz, eh?”
“I
don’t think you are,” muttered Ruth.
The
Professor grabbed her by the hand and dragged her through the gates.
I followed, all the way into the feed room, where the Professor
pushed Ruth up against the door to the walk-in freezer. I nearly
dragged them away from Ruth. But all the Professor did was make a
“zip it” motion with their hand, and step back, putting a vapid
smile on their face once more.
Ruth
shot me a questioning look. I shrugged.
“Come
on,” said Professor Windsor. “Let’s get going on this, I don’t
want Rook to bite me, ha ha.”
We
discovered, to our dismay, that hauling a deer carcass around was
more trouble than we had anticipated. The three of us could get the
thing off the hook, but once it fell to the floor, getting it off the
ground was like trying to lift a gunny sack full of marbles.
“That
does it,” said Professor Windsor. They stuck their head out of the
freezer and shouted, “Guy! Get in here and do what I hired you
for!”
Guy
came trotting down the hall to us. He picked up the deer carcass,
threw it over his shoulder, and started to walk away.
“How
the hell did you do that?” said Ruth.
“Used
to live on a farm,” said Guy. “And I had a gym membership. Ah,
but both of those are gone now.”
He
didn’t say anything else about that as we followed him to Rook’s
pen, nor did we ask, even after he had tossed the carcass over the
fence. But maybe I didn’t have to. I had a feeling I knew what
“lost the farm” and “work-study student” meant.
Back
at the dorm, as we were getting ready for bed, I said, “Is it legal
to adopt someone your own age?”
“Happens
all the time,” said Ruth. “Why?”
“I
think Guy is in the same boat as me. Lost access to all his former
resources, while he was at university. I can’t imagine why else he
would have agreed to be a grad assistant for the Morrow Lab. Suddenly
I feel very possessive of the fellow.”
“Well,”
said Ruth, “adopting an adult is usually so you can be absolutely
sure to leave all your stuff to them when you die. And you just said
you and him might be in the same boat. You don’t have
any
stuff. So going through that whole legal process just so you can call
him your darling son wouldn’t help either of you, would it?”
“Prrrrrobably
not.”
“Then
if he really is in dire straits, just be his friend, alright? You can
do a lot more for him that way than through the law. And he probably
needs a friend when he’s in that lab. Same as you do.”
“That’s...a
good point. Talking of that lab – did you ever manage to ask
Professor Windsor what relationship they had with Doctor Morrow?”
Ruth
shook her head. “Didn’t want to pry too much while the prof was
putting on that loony act. This whole thing feels more unsavory than
we expected anyway.”
“Loony
is right,” I said. “And yet they clearly wanted to tell us
something once the sun is up and we’re all inside. Do you think
Artemis is involved?”
Ruth
shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything that could come from the sky,
or anyone – that’s Artemis, yes, but also Hermes, Athena,
Apollo…Zeus…”
“Jesus
Christ,” I said, “don’t remind me of those weirdos. Let’s
just get to sleep and deal with this in the morning.”
“A
capital idea,” said Ruth. “But first…” She smiled sweetly and
looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Goodnight kiss?”
I
laughed and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, dear. May
sweet birdsong brighten your morning.”
“Birds
do not sing of sweet things,” said Ruth. “Oh, but you may learn
of that yourself soon. Goodnight.”
As
I got into bed and tried to drift off to sleep, I was kept awake for
a little while in wondering what Ruth had meant.