Page 30 of Experimental Voyage
The birds merely continued making a ruckus, fighting for the right to claim ownership over him.
After securing the crabs in the quarantine bay, I made use of the intercom, pushing the button and saying, “I require the assistance of some feathered murder machines to free Alban from the clutches of some overly affectionate birds on stilts. It seems they have claimed him as their territory, and they do not wish to leave.”
A laughing Waldren acknowledged my request and promised to send some assistance before informing me he caught the entire incident on video and had recorded it for everyone’s viewing pleasure. Torn between disgust we were being overwhelmed by small birds and amazed they won against the Veloc, who hesitated to hurt them.
“I feel like this planet might be where therapy animals originated billions of years ago. Those birds love you. They aren’t biting you, are they?”
“They reek of sheer joy to have found me,” Alban muttered, his crest flattened to his skull. “I am concerned there are creatures the size of me with a reputation on this world of cuddling with the local wildlife. And they are feathered, too.”
“Or perhaps furred, but with fur resembling feathers? They are not at all interested in me.” As I could escape with ease, I went to check on my bird, who chirped and peeped the instant she caught sight of me. Resigned to my fate, I went to the little refrigeration unit in the bay, retrieved some raw fish for her, and went to work giving her bits and pieces. “Are the Deltans going to be okay with this situation? I’ve adopted a crippled bird. She can’t eat without help, and she can’t fly.”
“The Deltans will bend over backwards to help you with her care, never fear. They were once helped by the Cremorans after the demise of Earth, and they do their best to pay that debt back. You have nothing to worry about.”
Rather than merely send word to the other Veloc to help extricate Alban from his predicament, Waldren joined us in the quarantine bay, and he laughed at the birds pleading for the Veloc’s love. “What did you do to earn that?”
“Existed,” Alban replied, and he plucked up one of the birds, made a show of heaving a sigh, and petted it.
The bird flopped and basked in the glory of being the chosen one.
“He’s tried throwing them off the ship, Waldren. They flew right back to him, and it only encouraged them,” I reported, and after I finished giving my bird her fish, I petted her. Like the other birds, she seemed to enjoy the attention. “We know there are predators here, but they’re in the water. Is this what happens when you have an ecosystem where there aren’t any naturalpredators of birds on the land? The birds seem to be the major predator.”
“And there are likely no birds of prey,” Alban reported. “On worlds where birds of prey live, other birds do not take well to my kind. We terrify them. They understand we will eat them. There must be scavengers, else there would be rotting carcasses everywhere, but this is an unusual ecosystem.”
“I’d say they would have a problem sustaining their population, but they solved that by ripping off the legs of the crabs. They have a daily replenishing food source.” I eyed the tub and its hundred tiny crustacean occupants. “It’s genuinely terrifying.”
“Peaceful as long as you are not a crab. Perhaps the larger species are grazers without interest in birds? They could pick off pests and bugs. We have found insects in the sand,” Herserael reported, and he gestured to a jar on one of the tables, which sure enough, had some bugs within. “We will have to quarantine to kill off most of the bugs and evaluate if the bugs we have brought on board are dangerous to other ecosystems. The ship will need to be fumigated.”
Waldren huffed. “That’s fairly normal after an exploratory voyage, although our fumigation will be more extreme than most. It might be a good thing I am going to end up upgrading my ship. This one will be out of business for at least three months making certain there are no issues from our somewhat haphazard approach to disembarking.”
“Are there any signs of us becoming ill?”
“None. You’re the most prone of us for illness, as you are lacking a lot of the vaccines we have, and none of your metrics have changed. If anything, you’re looking healthier than before we arrived here. And outside of your bird, everything on this world seems quite healthy.”
“Excepting that dead fish.”
Waldren shrugged. “The fish is a puzzle. I don’t see anything visually wrong with it, but until we get it to a lab that can dissect it, we won’t know. My guess is old age, though.”
“Maybe we should go fishing for some live samples,” Alban said, and he eyed one of the boxes tucked in a corner of the bay. “We brought supplies.”
“No.” Waldren’s immediate and vehement reply made me laugh. “We have taken sufficient things, living and dead, from this planet. We will do one more venture onto the beach tomorrow before we begin monitoring for three days. Once we pass basic quarantine monitoring, we will do a visual tour of the planet and landmass mapping from orbit. Only then will we search for any potential shiftgem gate locations and see about heading home.”
I wrinkled my nose at the idea of quarantine. “In regular quarters or in the bay?”
“We’ll use our regular quarters. Things won’t be much different for us, really. We’ll just need to monitor our vitals, draw blood, and check for any signs of infection. Once we reach a proper spaceport, we’ll undergo full quarantine with professional supervision. The only thing that is different is that we will not use outside ventilation and produce our own air to make certain we cannot accidentally spread any illnesses or pests. Alban, if you go with her, I’ll authorize a tub for gathering of plant material to put into stasis.”
“We’ll all go to get some fresh air and a good stretch,” the Veloc replied. “We’ll do some basic tests to confirm there are no predatory creatures in this general vicinity when we scout.”
“No licking anything,” Waldren ordered before he returned to his work within the ship.
“Alban, what did you lick?” I asked.
“More things than he cares to think about,” the Veloc confessed. “I’m an apex predator, and I determine how muchenergy I’m going to use from taste. How can I know how delicious something is without licking it?”
No wonder Waldren appeared to be grumpy all the time. He likely worried himself straight to gray hair with the Veloc and their predatory tendencies. “I’m seconding his order. No licking anything on our next venture off the ship.”
A paradiseof botany research waited for me in the forest, and armed with elbow-high gloves, pruning shears, bags, and tubs, I rampaged, cataloging and taking samples of seeds, leaves, and anything of interest to cross my path. Alban lasted an entirety of ten minutes before the urge to taste a tree with sap almost overcame him.
Prepared for the Veloc’s naughtiness, I intervened, smacking the oversized feathered murder machine across his muzzle to stop him from indulging. “Bad! We do not lick the local wildlife, plant life, or non-organic matter.Bad.”
