Sam stepped back and grinned. “Thanks, Tom.”
“Any time. That’s why you bring me along on these stupid adventures… to save your ass.”
“That’s true.” To Jess, he said, “You want to tell me what the hell that thing was?”
Chapter Ten
Jess said, “It’s call a Haast's eagle.”
Sam sighed. “A what?”
“Haast’s eagle. It’s an abbreviation of its Latin name, Hieraaetus moorei, an otherwise extinct species of eagle that once lived in the South Island of New Zealand, commonly accepted to be the Pouakai of Maori legend.”
“Yet the creature has survived here all this time?”
“Among others, yes,” Jess agreed. “The species was the largest eagle known to have existed. Its massive size is explained as an evolutionary response to the size of its prey, the flightless moa, the largest of which could weigh upward of five hundred pounds. But where New Zealand’s Haast's eagle became extinct around 1200AD after the moa were hunted to extinction by the first Māori, those inside the 8th Continent have been protected, with plenty of food and very little threat.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t the local people here kill them?”
“It’s harder said than done.” Jess continued to head south along the skyway. “You both carry modern weapons and yet it nearly killed you.”
“Sure, but the Māori killed the birds with handheld weapons, so what went wrong here?”
She looked at him directly, her lips parting with a wry and impish smile. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“No, I miss plenty of things. It’s the obvious that I tend to get. So what is it?”
“The truth is, humans decided to let them live.”
“Why?”
“Because they keep down the number of marsupial lions that would otherwise strip the region of its human inhabitants.”
“So they kept one predator to protect them from another?”
She shrugged. “Like I said, there’s a different mindset here. People think and act differently than those on the surface.”
Tom said, “That’s sure as hell right. If these were surface humans, both Haast’s eagle and the marsupial lion would now be extinct.”
No more Haast’s eagles troubled them on their way to the traveler’s nest.
But still, Sam felt like he was being watched. He kept checking over his shoulder and spotted the merest shadow of other humans.
“Someone’s out there,” Sam said.
Jess shrugged. “Of course there is. There are plenty of travelers who use the skyway.”
“So then why haven’t we seen any of them?”
“It’s a dangerous part of the land. People don’t willingly try to reveal their presence to strangers in this part of the 8th Continent…”
In the end, Sam let it go — but still, he felt like he was being watched — and possibly stalked.
The last of the strange purple sun was setting on the horizon by the time they climbed the steep ladder to a massive treehouse, perched on top of an ancient Eucalyptus regnans.
The traveler’s nest rivaled the Swiss Family Robinson’s treehouse. It was built out of a series of interwoven vines, branches, and a thick thatch roof. Spanning three stories, the nest provided ample sleeping accommodations.
A small forest of vines surrounded the tree house nest, and on these were a plethora of dark red berries.
Jess picked a handful, eating some herself, and handing the others to Sam and Tom. “Have a try, they’re full of vitamins and nutrients.”
Sam took a bite. It was sour and crunchy. Kind of what he’d expect from a cross between citrus fruit and protein rich nuts. He forced himself to finish it without saying anything.
She laughed. “What do you think?”
“They’re a little sour.”
“Yeah. Not one of our more delightful treats, but it will provide all the nutrients you need to survive on your journey. They were planted here years ago for weary travelers. There are also water fountains, fed by the river below if you’re thirsty.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Almost as soon as the sun had set, blue bioluminescent birds rose up from the forest, lighting the night sky with a constellation every bit as spectacular as the stars seen from above ground. As the velvet black darkness of night took over, the obsidian grotto turned into a vibrant constellation of blue-green stars. Sam relaxed back into a section of the nest that formed a lounge come bed, and stared up at the myriad of moving incandescent blue birds as they appeared like shooting stars throughout a galaxy of glow worms.
“All right, I know I’ve said it before, Tom, but now I really have seen it all.”
Tom laughed. “Yeah, it’s something all right.”
Jess glanced at them both. “What?”
“What do you mean, what?” Sam asked, his lips curling upward into a wry grin. “We’re talking about the blue iridescent birds! If I lived here, I could watch them all night.”
Jess laughed. “You haven’t ever seen blue glowing birds?”
“Ah… no,” Sam and Tom replied in unison.
Sam said, “Glow worms, yes. Glow birds… no.”
“How very bizarre.” Jess leaned back, crossing her legs. “I had never even considered that they’re anything unusual.”
“Well they are,” Sam said, decidedly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Actually…” Jess said, “I once read a book on ornithology from the surface.”
“And?” Sam asked. “You really are a wealth of knowledge.”
“Well, it turns out, millions of years ago, all bird feathers had the ability to luminesce under the right conditions, and most had bioluminescent abilities.”
“I wonder why the genetic trait died out?” Sam asked, his voice taking on a hint of sarcasm. “It would have been like lighting up a smorgasbord for dinner to the larger predators.”
Tom crossed his arms behind his head to form a makeshift pillow and leaned back. “And yet there isn’t a problem with them here…”
“I can answer that one,” Jess said.
Sam and Tom turned to look at her. “Go on. Why?”
“It has to do with the Haast’s eagle. It dominates the sky in the day, and sleeps at night, leaving only nocturnal birds to feed on the glow worms that are abundant on the roof of the 8th Continent at night.”
“Interesting,” Sam said, crossing his arms. “Now tell me this. How did your grandmother get stuck here?”
Jess turned her head, looking away from him. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
“Amelia Earhart, my grandmother, flew here by accident.” Her voice softened, becoming slower and somehow more distant as she spoke. “As you well know, she was on her way to be the first woman to circumnavigate the world as a pilot back in 1937.”
Sam nodded. Amelia Earhart had been an inspiration to him for many years. Not because of the mystery surrounding her death, but because of her tenacity and strong will that had allowed her to overcome so many other obstacles to get there in the first place. For him, the fact she was remembered for the way she had died and not how she had lived was the greatest tragedy. “I know about Amelia.”
Her voice turned cold, confrontational. “Do you really, Mr. Reilly?”
“I know she didn’t grow up rich, as one would have expected a woman must have been to go on to become one of the world’s greatest aviators in a time when few men knew how to fly.” Sam smiled, still amazed to think that he was talking to the legend’s granddaughter. “I know she dropped out of college as soon as World War I started and became a nurse at a military hospital, where she first met aviators and became intrigued by the idea of flight. She was nearly a century ahead of her time. In a period when women were expected to do little else than stay at home, raise babies, keep the house clean, and put food on the table for her husband, she became a pilot. In 1931 she married publicist, George Putnam, retaining her maiden name and demanded the marriage be an equal partnership. I know she was an intelligent, tenacious, adventurer, who wanted to go out and explore the world — because it was there.”