The Strange Bird: A Borne Story by Jeff Vandermeer

Author:Jeff Vandermeer [Vandermeer, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780374537920
Publisher: MCD
Published: 2017-07-31T23:00:00+00:00

The Old Man had told the Strange Bird he had lied to her because she was so beautiful. He had lied to her about the prison and his place in it. He had lied to her about the story he typed out on his typewriter.

“I was the jailer in this place. When the world fell apart, when there was no more rule of law, we went into lockdown. I left the prisoners in their cells. They would have killed me. Until they had starved to death. Then I survived by killing the other guards as they tried to kill me—and that is how I lost my eye and how I came to be burned. Until I was the only one here, talking to myself. Because that is the world we live in now, so I was only doing what I had to do, what anyone would do. Isadora.”

What the Old Man had tried to capture, to remember, on his blank typed pages were the lives of the prisoners and the guards, to remember as many details as he could, so that somehow they might not be as dead. Which is how the Strange Bird knew the Old Man was not rational, one of the many reasons, but also how she knew that he could experience guilt, could understand regret, could want absolution.

In the lab, so many of the scientists had said “forgive me” or “I am so sorry” before doing something irrevocable to the animals in their cages. Because they felt they had the right. Because the situation was extreme and the world was dying. So they had gone on doing the same things that had destroyed the world, to save it. Even a Strange Bird perched on a palm tree on an artificial island with a moat full of hungry crocodiles below could understand the problem with that logic.

But the Strange Bird knew there was nothing rational at all about the Magician’s spider, for even as it revealed her, it revealed the Magician to the Strange Bird, and this was how she knew to expect the worst.

The spider withdrew, the children—most of them naked, faces smudged with caked blood and grime—turned to the Magician, expectant, as if she might reveal some great truth. Even Charlie X looked to her as if she were a queen.

“Full of animals,” the Magician said, musing, thoughtful, pushing the children away from her, sending a rippling wave out to the sides as packed so tight they fought to keep their balance. “Not of the Company. Not this type of workmanship. It has a specialized feel to it. Is their lab in the city? No, I doubt it. I would know. Where? Never fear—I will get it out of you.” Now peering down at the Strange Bird again, addressing her. “And also what is staring out from your eyes. Because someone is. Someone not you.”

“Can I. Can I.”

“No, you can’t, Charlie X. No matter what you might want to say.”

“Reward. Is reward.”

“Is reward?” The Magician

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