10. “What sort of hell planet is this?”

TEN

“What sort of hell planet is this?”

According to Waldren’s fancy machines, if the planet had any significant pests, we had dodged acquiring them. My little bird turned out to be a girl, and she lived for her next meal. After a decontamination bath, which she handled with more grace than I would have in her position, the Veloc discussed the best way to protect her feathers, settling on the gentlest oil they had to make sure she wouldn’t become ill.

As she couldn’t fly, we set up a box filled with beach sand and a tub of fresh water for her to drink and kept her in the quarantine bay. She made a nest in the sand and settled in, and after consultation with the Veloc, they dug through the freezer, brought out fish from their planet, and offered it to her in small pieces.

Without the sharp tip on her beak other birds of her kind used to shred their prey, the bird relied on us to tear her meal into swallowable pieces. She ate the fish with enthusiasm, and while we waited, tense that we made a mistake with her diet, she went about her business, checking over her nest and digging through the sand to locate shells to place near her chosen space. Without knowing why she wanted the shells, I offered to make one more venture onto the beach to gather a bunch for her along with any crab legs left to regenerate so we’d have a more robust supply of native food for her.

I returned with enough shells to arm an army of the birds with palaces, more crab legs than I cared to think about, and the body of a small fish that had washed up on shore while I’d been busy picking up the discarded crab legs from a bird’s meal.

The fish went into stasis for later dissection, the bird received a few handfuls of the shells scattered across the sand, and the legs joined the other regenerating crabs in a large, covered tub with some sand and sea water to mimic their environment.

I then took my second decontamination bath of the day and whined through the process of having my hair and fur detangled, much to the amusement of the three Veloc determined to restore me to acceptable presentation. Their decision to avoid tricking out my hair in baubles counted as a silver lining in my evening. While I had vague memories of having something to eat, I passed out on the first soft surface to cross my path.

The bird survived the night. To our horror, so had the crabs, and they had regenerated while we’d slept. Rather than piles of legs on a bed of sand, we had hundreds upon hundreds of wriggling live crabs in the tub. The lid had spared us from having to chase down escapees, but they barely all fit, and we hauled them to the beach to release and keep a few specimens in stasis for examination later.

The birds, upon realizing we’d brought dinner, congregated in a flock, waiting for easy pickings.

“What sort of hell planet is this?” I whispered to Alban, who’d been sacrificed to join me on the beach to release the excess crabs.

Waldren wanted a hundred live samples of the smallest ones, no more and no less.

He got his hundred, I’d gotten pinched more than a few times, and I wanted to light the entire beach on fire by the time we’d finished sorting and releasing the ones we weren’t keeping.

The birds waited for us to haul the tub with our chosen crabs away before converging on the pile we’d left behind. The smart crabs fled.

The rest faced dismemberment.

With wide eyes, I turned to Alban. “Is it too late to change fields?”

“As a matter of fact, no. It is not too late to change fields. But at least the birds aren’t dangerous to us—as far as we know.”

“As far as we know,” I muttered. Grabbing my end of the tub, I picked it up and marched for the opened quarantine bay to discover three new birds, darker than the crab-dismembering terrors, with longer legs and shorter bills. “Oh, look. More fearless avians. These ones have decided to come right onto the ship.” I considered their beak shape. “Those look like seed eaters if I’m to judge from the bill shape.”

“They have rather large beaks for something that should eat seeds. I would not wish to get my claw stuck in one of those beaks.”

While I agreed with him, I shrugged. “Think nuts more than flower seeds. Yes, you will have a bad day if your finger gets in the way. The birds I’m familiar with have those kinds of beaks when they want to break into seeds with harder casings.”

The Veloc cooed, and without any fear of the birds, he led the way up the ramp.

They observed us with interest until the giant feathered murder machine got close. With shrill squealing sounds and trills, they lunged for the Veloc. Rather than bite him as I expected, they cuddled against his legs and tried to hide in his feathers.

“This planet is utterly terrifying,” I informed Alban, lowering the crab tub to the ramp. “I’ll drag it in, you… deal with that.”

“I am being aggressively cuddled with, and I’m not sure I consented to the aggressive cuddling from unknown avians.” Careful not to step on them, the Veloc lowered his side of the tub, so I could haul it in. He reached down and plucked the first of the birds off his leg.

The bird reminded me of a cat, nuzzling against the larger, feathered predator to mark its territory.

“Put them back outside,” I ordered. “They are not injured and do not need to come home with us.”

Heaving a sigh, the Veloc attempted to obey, but every time he put one of the birds down, they crowded against him again. Tossing them in the air to promote flight bore no results, as the birds circled once before landing to resume snuggling with the Veloc.

“I can eat you in a single bite,” the Veloc stated, showing the birds his teeth.

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 natural predators 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 much energy 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 paradise of 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 .”

Herserael hooted a laugh and hauled his brethren away from the tempting tree. “It smells delicious.”

“That does not mean any of you get to lick it. Document the smell, gather a sample without licking or touching it , and behave. If you can’t help without licking the botany, you can wait on the ship.” Thus far, we’d had an audience of curious birds ranging from ankle sized to coming up to my waist, with long necks reminding me of swans but with long pointed beaks reminding me of a hummingbird’s. Like the birds on the beach, they found us to be most interesting, and I’d already been cuddled once by one of the larger, braver individuals.

Said bird, with brown feathers streaked with white, waited nearby for me to stand still for more than two seconds. As I needed to keep an eye on the Veloc, I did as the bird liked, remaining in place long enough for it to gather its courage and pounce, rubbing against my legs and rubbing its head against my hip.

Transferring everything to one hand, I petted the bird, which seemed to like the attention.

“Do you think there could be a missed colony of humans on this world?” I asked. “These birds are really too friendly to be wild animals. They act like pets that are used to being petted.”

“I don’t think so,” Herserael replied, and he lowered his head to get to eye level of the bird. I remained the apple of the bird’s eye, and the Veloc cooed. “I think it’s a matter of no predators and no conception of fear. There are no instincts warning these birds predators exist except in the water, and even then, the water doesn’t bother them much. They just stay in the shallows. The fish seems to have been a very hungry and bold denizen of the ocean. So perhaps a bird is killed and eaten from time to time, but it’s infrequent enough they do not have any instincts? There aren’t a lot of mammals that I have seen.”

“I haven’t seen any,” Alban reported. “It’s all birds. Have you seen any reptiles?”

“Not yet. Fish, birds, crustaceans, and limited insects. What an odd ecosystem.”

I frowned and began checking the trees for evidence of rodents, including squirrels, who often left marks on branches and trunks when they weren’t digging holes. I found plenty of evidence of woodpecker-type birds drilling holes into trees and insects inhabiting the trunks, but I couldn’t find any sign of furred animals living in the forest. “How strange. How can there be birds and fish but no mammals?”

“Perhaps there is a danger on the land that is easily evaded with wings?” Alban suggested.

Gersenalt lowered himself to the ground and sniffed at the dirt.

The birds took that as an invitation to cuddle, swarming the Veloc in their determination to receive attention. Cooing and whistling his enjoyment of the situation, Gersenalt complied with their wishes. “Then why are they so comfortable on the ground? Perhaps there are birds of all types that are filling the spots in the food chain that mammals would normally inhabit? There are obviously predators among the birds eating insects and crustaceans. There are likely scavengers that feed off the dead birds. Perhaps there is no need for them to be killed off outside of their normal lifespans due to the ready availability of food? Perhaps a slow reproduction rate?”

I considered the other options. “Or a rapid one, where they reproduce and die off in quick succession. That’s also a possibility. If they’re in a balanced ecosystem with a survival rate matching their death rate, then there’s no need for predators. We’ve heard about the theory of a truly balanced ecosystem, but I’ve never seen one before.”

Alban’s crest snapped up, something I learned meant a sudden or extreme interest in something. “And perhaps that’s why none of the other birds would feed yours. Their lifestyle probably just accepts such things as a reason to die. She no longer plays a part in the balanced ecosystem. And the fish stealing one would not be an issue if it’s just a matter of one individual. That wouldn’t knock anything out of balance. The ocean might be more typical for what we are used to.”

I considered the forest around us, amazed at how something so similar to home could become so alien. “Have we entered heaven or hell?”

“I don’t know,” Herserael answered, and he joined Gersenalt in petting the birds. “But I will say this much. If only our children and all the children of the world could enjoy such a sense of joy of discovery. These birds have zero idea we could kill and eat them. They don’t know what we are, but they know nothing of fear. For that reason alone, I do not know if I want others to discover this world.”

“We could register it as ours, restrict it due to the planet’s unique ecosystems, and forgo the bounty on opening the world for study,” Alban murmured. “We would walk away from a fortune, but we could protect this world and all its wonders.”

There would be no kittens nor foxes in my future without the planetary bounty, but it took only one look at the birds to understand I would have kittens or foxes but a great deal of regret over my choice. “And Waldren?”

“He will understand, although he will be saddened to deal with three months of no space travel until we register the planet and go through the appropriate research to determine its threat level. He would not wish to see this destroyed. We Veloc are predators, yes, but we are also protectors, and this peace is worth protecting.”

Yes, it was.