"So, let's recap," Director Carlyle says over the phone ten minutes after I called him. "Your team secured a D grade revenant field in an E grade portal. This is credible, the portal was reported to haven begun whitening this morning. You went hunting and became the object of fancy to a highly intelligent magical entity of a currently unknown affinity or potential affiliation. This is you, so it's also credible. Now, what to-"
"What was that supposed to mean?" I ask wearily but unwilling to let it slide. My otherwise untouched helmet had pretty much lost all of its visor integrity to a bird that was simply proving a point in its mind. MY C GRADE EXPLOSION-PROOF HELMET.
Today was just not the day for this kind of battle of wits.
Either uncaring or simply unaware of my current status, the director simply says, "It's YOU, Malcolm. Shit simply seems to HAPPEN to and around you. Think of how we know each other. Think of your career up to date. Think of your academy and prior history. What, about this, seems strange to you?"
"The essence of the matter, which is the simple fact that it's happening to ME," I say in a tired groan, finding myself somewhat venting to the director. "I'm sorry, you were saying what to do about the bird?"
An oddly blank silence soon followed and I wondered if I had been hung up on for a moment before the director finally said, "Just keep it. I'll contact a friend in the biology departments and he'll send an expert to educate the bird. That bird is potentially hundreds, slight possibility of thousands, of years old. Once it knows its first language and the basics of math and literature in our world, we can offer it citizenship in exchange for service."
"America will go that far over a B grade bird?" I ask skeptically, looking toward the portal and the cleaners a hundred feet away from me. "That's nuts, how powerful can this one entity be? Not that it matters, as long as it stops bothering me."
"It's not just the one entity, its the handful of other creatures who, scattered around the globe, could cause untold horror in surprise acts of terrorism," he informs me serious. "Two or three BIRDS in the wrong areas of our own country and an entire city could be gone in just a couple hours- long before a fighting force can be thrown together to face them. These aren't just creatures from the other worlds, these are BOSSES from the other worlds. Not to mention…" he says but then trails off.
As soon as he said those words there was a sinking feeling in my stomach and then the pause before continuing made my heart beat cold in my chest. "Malcolm, my friend… the bird won't be leaving your company until the bird is tired of your company. The previous high-sentient magical entities that made it- SECRETLY- to Earth in positive manners are basically considered ambassadors from there to here. You will be from here to there until it finds someone more suitable."
"So… you're saying we have… wait… we can talk and there's embassy shit? How many… how big-" I start to ask while my thoughts seem to run off in branching directions all at once while my mind wrapped around the sudden issue I faced.
"These are not the kind of questions you should be asking on a cell phone," Director Carlyle said in a calm but serious manner. "If that phone was not already Bureau property, I would not even answer your calls. I'll be on my way down to your portal location after making contact with some interested parties, head back to camp whenever you're done at the portal."
With that vague order my potential boss hung up and left me with nothing to do. So, I wrote a long series of messaged that I saved to draft instead of sending to Lucinda. Then I made a quick phone call after thinking about what to make for dinner.
Half an hour later, a teenage pizza delivery boy riding on a large scooter pulls up to the portal location. After seeing me not only in my full regalia but also with a damaged helmet, the kid got super excited and asked loads of questions I could not answer either legally or comfortably. In the end, we took a picture together beside a Bureau van with the cleaner and portal in the background before I paid a hundred dollars more than the order to buy the delivery bag.
After buying the silence of the cleaners by leaving the group of six with two out of ten deep dish extra-all supreme pizzas, I quickly entered the portal and casually jogged back to camp.
"I hate you," Karen says without regard for anyone or anything at all when I returned to camp, having me traveled up the hillside and across the top to camp without every looking away. "I thought we had a deal."
"I know but I'm stressed so I bought my own comfort food," I say with a quiet and awkward laugh, hoping she would buy the excuse. "If it's of any consolation, I custom ordered this pizza the same way that I would make one. It's just their own seasonings and sourcing."
"Enough talking, more feeding," she says without every stopping her hands in mashing oils from simmered plant stems through a sifter with an actual quartz pestle. When I did not immediately start hand feeding her pizza like I was apparently expected to, she opened her mouth and simply said the single syllable, "Ah."
I put the corner of one pizza box in her mouth and then walked away, forcing her to hold it or let it fall. She never even let it lean. That pizza was probably as important to this woman as her work.
As the others gathered around and Eliza assisted her guardian with the box of pizza, I handed out pizzas until only one box was left. I took this box out onto the hilltop where Poniard and the bird were sitting in a pitted area of hilltop from the emergence of several large bodies. The only reason I found them was by the quiet hiss and clicks of Poniard and the similar clucks and breathy whistles from the bird.
When I found them, it looked like they were actually organizing loot. Between them were a pile of colorful rocks, shiny insects of different types, a three-foot length of round rectangular death ivory, some old and new animal parts, and what looked like broken bits of old jewelry. Most of this was divided on either side of the death ivory which the bird was pecking slowly in half across the middle while Poniard held it.
When I finally gave myself away from not stepping on soft dirt while coming into view of them, both of them briefly looked up at me and then back to what they were doing. I was honestly only somewhat surprised by the situation, more so by the fact they actually found anything worth keeping. Then I was surprised by the sudden lack of communication.
Pretending that everything was perfectly normal, I simply sat down off to the side between the two of them with the pizza box between Poniard and I. Then I opened the box and took out a slice off sauce dripping pizza to eat casually over the ground after removing my helmet. After I took the first bite was when Poniard helped himself to a slice.
Scenting the air like others kinds of animals, the bird stops halfway through the meticulously careful pecking because Poniard let go of the ivory and stares at the pizza. It actually looked interested as it watched Poniard add even more toppings to his slice with a couple of insects from the pile. Could birds even eat pizza?
As one would predict in a situation like this, the bird actually hopped over to our side of the loot and started approaching the box. That was when I held out my arm and stopped him. It was time to stop treating this thing like a bird and more like someone who lacked common courtesy.
Pointing to Poniard first, I briefly point to me and back to him before pointing down at one of his poniards. From the yard, I smoothly pointed to myself and then to Poniard in the same motion. Then I pointed at his armor, smoothly round-trip pointed, his spear, round trip point, and finally I pointed at the pizza in his hand and round-tripped again.
Next, I looked off to the side while thinking of how to charade the next part. Nodding in satisfaction a moment later, I point to Poniard and then used two fingers to point at my eyes before clapping myself on the back over my shoulder followed by gripping one of my weapons. Then, I pointed at the bird and simply turned and empty hand palm up as if in shrug before tilting my head to the side in question.
Poniard, for his part, knew this was an adult discussion and simply ignored everything while eating his pizza. The bird just stood there for a long time staring at me and then the pizza and then Poniard. Finally, it walked over to its loot and kicked aside a couple of bugs and rocks toward me.
THIS BIRD WAS TRYING TO BUY MY PIZZA. I could not believe my eyes as I watched this so-called lightingale hop and kick the pretty field stones and shiny, almost metallic insects over to me. It was not the response I wanted because I was hoping for some kind of brothers-in-arms sort of thing but this simplified exchange at least made us look more like equals.
Taking two slices of pizza away from the others, I put them on the inside of the box lid and wave the bird over. The bird first retrieved its stockpile of insects and then went to blend them into the food with a blurred barrage of pecks up and down the pizza. Then, it settled down on the ground beside the lid and ate the pureed pizza and bugs.
Reaching over and tapping on Poniard's arm, I say, "Poniard."
Poniard emphasizes this by smacking himself in the chest and saying, "Ponyerd."
Smacking myself in the chest much like my goblin companion had done, I say, "Malcolm."
Tapping my arm much as I had done for him, Poniard once again emphasizes my introduction with the introduction we gave the other goblins. "Sifu Malco!"
Craning its head to keep us in side with one eye the entire time, the bird tirelessly pecks up the slopped slices of pizza for almost a full minute before standing up and cleaning its beak on the box lid's edge. Then it started cooing both in and out in various tones and pitches and warbles. With its naturally melodious vocals, it was honestly quite pleasant.
At first I thought the bird was actually introducing itself, but then the warbles and chirps and clucks began to shift in tones and pitch and even shape as it worked its beak. After a few moments of finding the right 'tone' I found that all of the noises were coming out in my voice. Finally, the distorted noises started taking form as things similar to letters and syllables.
When the bird was done having it vocal seizure, it looked at Poniard and breathed deeply to puff out its chest before saying, "Pon-yer-r-d," in a warped coo. Then it simply said. "Pon. Pon-pon." Poniard had officially been nicknamed a shamefully cute name by somebody.
Sadly, it was not a shamefully cute girl but this shamefully obnoxious bird. Then the bird turned to me and simply seemed to hiss with a short and sharp whistle, "Si-fu-u."
The, standing proudly once again and hugging its chest with a single wing as if presenting themselves, the bird starts to make a noise and then stop. Tilting its head to the side, it maintains pose for about two seconds before finally saying, "Si-Pon. Si-Pon!"
Now that formal introductions had been made, our group ate in companionable silence thereafter. Until the bird was done eating, of course. That was when less than half of the pizza remained and Pon-pon was about ready to tap out. However, I wanted to see if I could get more out of the bird. "Si-Pon," I say to get the birds attention before pointing at the bird, my eyes, and then clapping my back.
Then I spoke it, "If you watch my back, I will give you the rest of this pizza and continue to take good care of you as long as you take good care of me. If you understand and agree, slap me some wing," I finish, holding my hand out toward the bird with my palm facing up.
Eyeing the remaining slices of pizza without blinking for an oddly long time, as if the food meant as much to the bird as it did to an eccentric like Karen, the bird finally slapped my hand before hopping into the pizza box with the rest of its insects. I could not care less. I had accomplished one major achievement for myself right now.
I had secured assistance and-or my security from this bird for the time being.
*