Frank Herbert by The Lazarus Effect

Author:The Lazarus Effect [Effect, The Lazarus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-03T05:00:00+00:00

Perseverance furthers.

—I Ching, Shiprecords

A flock of wild squawks came flying past the coracles, their wings whistling in the dull gray light of morning. Twisp turned his head to follow the birds’ path. They landed about fifty meters ahead of him.

Bushka had sat up at the sudden sound, fear obvious in his face.

“Just squawks,” Twisp said.

“Oh.” Bushka subsided with his back against the cuddy.

“If we feed ’em, they’ll follow us,” Twisp said. “I’ve never seen ’em this far from an Island.”

“We’re near the base,” Bushka said.

As they approached the swimming flock, Twisp tipped some of his garbage over the side. The birds came scrambling for the handout. The smaller ones churned their legs so fast they skipped across the water.

It was the birds’ eyes that interested him, he decided. There was living presence in those eyes you never saw in the eyes of sea creatures. Squawk eyes looked back at you with something of the human world in them.

Bushka moved up and sat on the cuddy top to watch the birds and the horizon ahead of them. Where is that damned Launch Base? The motions of the birds kept attracting his attention. Twisp had said the squawks acted out of an ancient instinct. Probably true. Instinct! How long did it take to extinguish instinct? Or develop it? Which way were humans going? How strongly were they driven by such inner forces? Historian questions thronged his mind.

“That dull-looking squawk is a female,” Bushka said, pointing to the wild flock. “I wonder why the males are so much more colorful?”

“Has to be some survival in it,” Twisp said. He looked at the flock swimming beside the coracle, their eyes alert for another handout. “That’s a female, all right.” A scowl settled over his face. “One thing you can say for that hen squawk: she’ll never ask a surgeon to make her normal!”

Bushka heard the bitterness and sensed the old familiar Islander story. It was getting to be ever more common these days: A lover had surgery to appear Merman-normal, then pressured the partner to do the same. A lot of angry fights resulted.

“Sounds like you got burned,” Bushka said.

“I was crisped and charred,” Twisp said. “Have to admit it was fun at first…” He hesitated, then: “…but I hoped it would be more than fun, something more permanent.” He shook his head.

Bushka yawned and stretched. The wild flock took his movement as a threat and scattered in a flurry of splashes and loud cries.

Twisp stared toward the wild birds, but his eyes were not focused on them. “Her name’s Rebeccah,” he said. “She really liked my arms around her. Never complained about how long they were until—” He broke off in sudden embarrassment.

“She chose surgical correction?” Bushka prompted.

“Yeah.” Twisp swallowed. Now what set me talking about Rebeccah to this stranger? Am I that lonesome? She had liked to feed the squawks at rimside every evening. He had enjoyed those evenings more than he could tell, and remembered details in a flood that he shut off as soon as it started.

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