– The Henlings
Pancho landed at the Western testing grounds at the same time as Bobbi and the others. Amelia stumbled and looked ready to blame someone, so Bobbi stumbled too.
“These long flights aren’t good for the circulation,” Bobbi told her, rubbing her leg.
“Thank you,” Amelia said before bobbing away towards a waiting Harriet, Jackie, and Hélène.
“How was Southern?” Pancho asked Bobbi.
“They were ok,” Bobbi said. “I was pleasantly surprised. Have you seen Amy?”
“No—has Amelia calmed down?”
“Oh so you noticed too? What’s up with her?”
“I don’t know,” Pancho shrugged. “But she’s been like it since before Reveille.”
“Any idea why she’s rushing? I mean—we don’t get to do this ever again.”
“Maybe it’s the wind. It’s really whipping up now. You reckon she’s worried the testing won’t be fair?”
“Speaking of testing,” Bobbi asked with a sly grin. “Are you going to pick Miles?”
Pancho felt her wings rise again.
“Oh my hawk! You are! Oh I’m so happy for you!”
“Really?” Pancho asked. “Even though you and Felix…?”
Bobbi shrugged. “Come on,” she changed the subject. “They’re looking at us.”
“What’s up with Harriet?” Pancho said as they approached the group. “Is she actually hopping on the spot?!”
“Oh my hawk! She is!”
Harriet wriggled, one foot forward, wings open, determined to be first in line. Amelia’s speech was long.
“Would you like to inspect with me?” Amelia offered when she finished talking.
“Would I?!” Harriet lifted off the ground, landing next to Amelia so fast that one of the henlings in the crowd muttered loudly. “When did EvComm allow teleporting again?”
The pair linked wings and bobbed inside the first nest, heads held high; Pancho, Bobbi, Hélène, and Jackie trailing behind.
“Oh. My. Hawk!” Amelia said, her beak dropping open. Harriet could see all the way down to lunch. “This is the biggest space I have ever seen. And I’ve been to Maxim’s!”
They looked up to a distant spot of blue sky. Level after level of rooms were arranged in a spiral around a central open space.
“I think this is just the reception area!” Harriet gasped. “Can you believe it?” She ran to a fountain occupying the centre of ground level. Water gushed over the sides, disappearing without a splash on the soft feathery floor. “How does he keep the floor dry?!”
“And look at this seed feeder!” Amelia gasped too. “And is that a sand bath?”
“Yes!” Squealed Harriet. “And two types of dirt bath! How did he make this?” She asked. “Where does the water go? And where did he get all these feathers? How did he get the dirt in here?”
“This must have taken a whole flock of cocklings a week to build,” Harriet said.
“You are closer to the truth than you know,” Amelia told her.
Harriet almost stopped breathing. “You mean…Woah. Isn’t that against the rules?!”
“What rules?” Amelia said with a shrug.
They wandered from room to room, losing all track of time. Amelia lingered too long at the nursery; Harriet too long at the skylight. By the time they dragged themselves away the sun was in the middle of the sky.
Bobbi hurriedly stuffed grubs into her beak before they took off. They’d lost too much time. The westerly had become a full-blown death wind, hot and dry. She didn’t need to fly so much as let it push her, ruffling her tail feathers.
She listened to the others talk: Harriet complaining about some trivial thing. Apparently she’d expected something better from Neil’s nest, something intangibly exciting. Pancho suggested Harriet try to get to know him better.
Amelia’s mood seemed to have improved. She hardly spoke at all—but at least she was smiling.
Evolution: it's for the birds 