A Quiet Afternoon 2 by Various Authors

Author:Various Authors [Various]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: SF, speculative fiction, sci-fi, fantasy, SFF, Low-Fi, comfort
Publisher: Grace & Victory Publications
Published: 2021-06-21T00:00:00+00:00

THE POLLINATORS

Tiffany Morris

Orange velvet sunset stained the glass of the aviary, the last stop on the Natural History Museum tour. Eve and Caitlin had already traversed the indoor portion, spending the late afternoon in the massive, air-conditioned halls peering at extinct animals with tusks and teeth gleaming in white light, each one diorama-still. They’d also spent some time in the human history wing, studying the shards of faded pottery and cedar baskets, histories inscribed in miscellany.

The indoor butterfly garden had been their second-last stop and had proven disappointing. The only Experiential Enhancement headset language available was Latin (More coming soon! the menu promised). They’d walked along the path, surrounded by milkweed and fuchsia-soaked wild roses. Each butterfly fluttered as if real. The tiny drones glided noiselessly through the balmy air: a perfect 17 degrees Celsius, according to Eve’s phone. Eve ignored most of the butterflies, but felt a flicker of delight when the Halloween shades of monarch wings careened in front of her. Neat script, reading Danaus plexippus, trailed the butterfly like a comet tail.

As they left, an ad popped up on the headset:

“The pollinator sanctuary delivers a simulated butterfly experience—like walking in real nature! Each drone is made from recycled metals and takes one year to build. To donate to this project or the conservation of real-life pollinators, please see the museum website or the QR code outside.”

Eve blinked to dismiss the ad. She took off the headset and handed it to the gate attendant. A scorching desert heat blasted them as they left the garden and hurried to the aviary entrance: there was no line, and the inside appeared empty.

Eve debated going in without a new headset; she’d found the Latin more intrusive than helpful. Caitlin didn’t hesitate.

“Oh, these are all endangered languages,” Caitlin said. Her eyes moved rapidly behind the headset glass as she scrolled.

“Endangered, vulnerable, and threatened,” the attendant said, not looking up from her phone. “We partnered with the Language Revitalization Society.”

Eve put it on. She scanned through the long language list and finally selected ‘Shuffle.’

They walked inside. Birdsongs filled the air, crystal-clear and harmonious: nothing like the cacophony from a real colony of birds. An ache smoldered in Eve’s chest as she remembered the rez, the shrill whine of the blue jays her mother had loved to feed in winter. Eve had enjoyed walking between bare trees, witnessing how the blue jays’ plumage matched the cold sky. There were so many birds there back then. In July, during Peskewiku’s, the Birds Shedding Feathers Moon, Eve would collect whatever feathers she found: crow, blue jay, woodpecker, duck.

Beams of setting sunlight tinged the aviary with a rosy glow. The blue head of a swallow, Fáinleog (Swallow, Irish Gaeilge), was rendered purple as it arced above her. Eve kept walking, staring at the midnight-black wings of the Tuwikáa (Raven, Comanche) that perched on a branch ahead. Its deep, eerie croak was perfect.

Eve kept walking, transfixed by the birds circling, preening, perching throughout. Their movements were so natural, it was hard to believe they were made of metal and recycled materials.

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