****

Camp, the dog, growled.

 

From inside a small wire trap, the furry, four-legged creature squeaked back at the dog, not backing down an inch despite being the size of a small squirrel and decidedly hamster-like in appearance.

 

Not only wasn’t the little hamster-like creature not backing down, Beryl thought he seemed like he wanted the growling dog to try something that would give him a chance to attack.

 

“Aggressive little guy, isn’t he?” Vlad looked over Beryl’s shoulder into the trap from where he stood behind her crouching next to the trap, keeping her between him and the animal.

 

“Aggressive and adorable.” Beryl couldn’t help herself and reached her hand toward where the trap sat on the dark soil of the Columbina jungle floor.

 

“Beryl,” a voice said through her phone, stopping Beryl’s hand in midair. “what did we agree to?”

 

“We would bring this guy back to town before doing anything to or with him,” Beryl responded, sounding every bit the 15-year old she was. She may have been one of the smartest people on the planet, with free range to explore and study said planet, but there were times when her teenage tendencies shone through her normally mature behavior.

 

“Good,” the voice said. “Because the last thing I need right now is for someone else to get hurt because they want to play with this planet’s wildlife.”  Iris would have been with them, but she was needed in town because, not for the first time since they had realized it was a very bad idea, one of their fellow Columbinians had decided to take a swim in the planet’s ocean. Not being there, Iris was forced to keep an eye on them remotely, using a small, insect-like drone and their phones to do so.

 

Camp growled again and laid down in the dirt next to the trap. The dog’s translator sent a message to Beryl’s phone, suggesting the dog did not think too highly of the hamster-like creature at which he was growling.

 

Beryl stood up from where she had been crouching. “I have an idea.”

 

Taking a few steps into the jungle behind her, Beryl searched for the tool she needed. Only a couple steps in, she could no longer see the Bird—the ship on which they had traveled here—in the clearing next to where they had set the trap.

 

After only a few seconds, Beryl found what she was looking for at eye level. After snapping the dead stick off of a tree trunk, Beryl went back to the trap.

“What’s that for?” Vlad looked at the stick in Beryl’s hand.

 

“I just want to see how aggressive this thing is. If he’s going to go nuts, I’m not going to pick up that cage without some sort of protection.”

 

“So you’re going to poke him with a stick?”

 

“I’m not going to poke him with a stick,” Beryl said, fully intending to poke the animal with the stick now in her hand. She wasn’t planning to poke him hard. She just wanted to poke hard enough to see what kind of reaction she would get from him.

 

“Beryl, do not poke that thing with a stick,” came the voice of Iris through her phone.

 

Beryl ignored the voice of the smartest being in the known universe, reached out her hand, and poked the furry creature in the trap right in his forehead.

 

What happened next happened so fast no one would figure it out until looking at videos from their phones and the drone several days later.

 

As the stick passed through the wires of the trap and touched its head, the furry animal grabbed it in its front paws, pulling the stick into the trap. It snapped a small piece off, then jammed it into the trap’s locking mechanism, unlocking it and opening the door.

 

The furry creature then scampered out, stopping just long enough to bite Beryl’s still outstretched—but stickless—hand, before scurrying away into the jungle.

 

At the time, all Beryl saw was a flash of brown fur and a bloody middle finger on her left hand.

 

“It bit me,” Beryl stood up, holding out her left hand for Vlad to see. The wound was deep enough that blood was dripping from it. “The little hamster bastard bit me.”

 

And then she passed out.

 

*

 

Camp’s translator was going off nonstop as the dog nudged Beryl with his nose, whining and licking her face, repeating her name and telling her to wake up in a constant loop.

 

Vlad asked Iris to turn off the translator before he did anything else. There were definitely times when all their technology served no purpose other than annoyance.

 

“Shitty, shit, shit,” Iris’s voice came over his phone. “I can’t believe she actually poked the thing. No, scratch that. I can believe it. That girl is so much like her father sometimes…”

 

“That’s all and good, but now what am I supposed to do?”

 

“I was kind of worried those things were poisonous,” Iris continued, ignoring Vlad’s question.

 

“You do realize that is the sort of information that would have been more helpful about two minutes ago, right?”

 

“In my defense, I wasn’t entirely sure and I didn’t want anyone to worry about it,” Iris paused. “Beryl is still breathing, so that’s good.”

 

Vlad’s mind wondered how Iris knew something like that, but it almost as quickly dismissed it, figuring it had something to do with their phones or the drone buzzing around him, almost imperceptibly.

 

“Vlad, you need to get her back on the Bird and to town as soon as you can. She should be OK for now, but we don’t want to waste any time.”

 

*

 

Iris knew she should have gone with Beryl and Vlad to check out the trap.

 

She couldn’t help that humans were the most curious creatures around and would happily ignore any and all warnings to find out for themselves just how dangerous particular situations could be. All the same, she never ceased to be amazed at just how often they did dumb things.

 

And how often she still let them do dumb things.

 

Take, for instance, Reed, the person lying on the table in front of her and almost the entire medical staff of Columbina as they worked to save his life. He was not the sharpest human, but like everyone on Columbina, he knew the most dangerous place on the planet was its ocean.

 

Did that stop him from deciding to take a swim several hours earlier as part of a drunken bet? It most certainly did not.

 

Now, she was certain the formerly handsome man would have significant scarring on his face, arms, and legs—if they could save him. Even with the technology they had, he was still on the verge of death thanks to a combination of blood loss from where the sea creatures had torn him apart and the poison their teeth and beaks had sent streaming through his blood.

 

Iris set several drones to repair a vessel in Reed’s left arm, and berated herself again for not going out with Beryl and Vlad.

 

She would have let Reed die a dozen times to save Beryl. Or Vlad, had he been the curious human dumb enough to poke a poisonous hamster with a stick. Or, for that matter, pretty much any other human.

 

*

 

Vlad couldn’t help but sneak glances at Beryl, draped over the passenger seat of the Bird, as he flew back toward town, Camp foregoing his normal spot in the back of the craft to sit at her feet. If he hadn’t known better, she would have just seemed to be asleep.

 

Unfortunately, he knew better.

 

It was why he was piloting the Bird home much faster than he knew was recommended. Had Iris been there with them, she would have berated him, both for his speed and for flying low to the trees, attempting to cut off even the few extra seconds he would get from not heading higher into the sky.

Even so, the fifteen-minute trip home was already the longest trip home of his life, and they were still five minutes out from town.

 

But Iris wasn’t there.

 

Perhaps if she had been there, she would have been able to warn him that, even if the Bird’s auto-flight systems would keep him from hitting any trees or other stationary objects, they would not necessarily be able to maneuver around any moving objects. Combined with the speed he was going, hitting a moving object at their height would send the Bird careening. If they went toward the trees, those same auto-flight systems would probably be unable to correct their path before they hit the ground.

 

Vlad’s mind had just enough time to register the Vos jumping up from the tops of the trees below toward the Bird in attack mode before it hit the Bird with a dull thump, and sent it careening into the jungle below.

 

*

 

“What the hell just happened?”

 

Hearing Iris’s voice, Vlad began remembering the events of the last few seconds. Around him, some sort of foam was drying up and disappearing into the air.

 

“I think a Vos just jumped out of the trees and attacked the Bird. Also, I’m glad you’re concerned with the well-being of those of us on the plane.”

 

“I’ve already checked your vitals. The accident foam did its job.” That must have been the foam that had now entirely disappeared around them. Vlad had never been in an accident in a Bird—the things were virtually impossible to crash, though not, as he now knew, impossible to crash—but he knew how the foam functioned from learning about the Birds before he ever flew them. Just before an anticipated impact, or at an impact, the foam exploded around them, protecting them from movement. The foam almost immediately began disappearing into the air once it had softened the blow of those it protected.

 

“And what about the Vos who attacked us? As much fun as that hamster was, I would rather deal with it than one of them,” Vlad, like everyone on

Columbina, wanted nothing to do with the Vos—the Velociraptors On Steroids—if he could help it.

 

“Dead. It turns out, attacking a modern-day ship traveling at high speeds doesn’t end well for biological creatures. Unfortunately, I’ve pulled up the vitals on your ship, and it turns out it’s in only slightly better shape than our Vos friend. We’ll be able to get it running in a couple days again, but you’re going to need a ride out of there.”

 

“Is Beryl going to be OK?” Vlad asked. She was still slumped in the passenger seat of the Bird, as if nothing had happened. Camp still sat where he had been, looking slightly more confused than before but not so confused he had left Beryl’s side.

 

“Let’s go with yes. But not if anything else goes wrong.”

 

“That’s not reassuring.”

 

“How about this. I have Ollie prepping one of the other Birds. As soon as I can get to him, we’ll be in the air and on the way. In the meantime, your job is to keep Beryl alive. It shouldn’t be too hard. All you have to do is make sure she keeps breathing.”

 

As Iris spoke, the Bird lurched, as if the back of the ship was being pulled toward something unknown.

 

*

 

“Oh, shit. Shitty, shit, shit,” Iris said, obviously knowing more than Vlad.

 

“What’s wrong?” Vlad asked, unbuckling his safety belt and getting up.

 

“How about, you start doing what I say and I’ll tell you what’s wrong when you’re out of danger.”

 

“So, something is wrong, I take it?”

 

“Yes, something is wrong. Now get Beryl out of that seat and head toward the emergency side exit of the Bird.”

 

Vlad thought about the few things he knew as he unbuckled Beryl and threw her over his shoulder, not bothering to carry her nicely. The Bird had just lurched backward, and now Iris wanted him to get Beryl out of the Bird using one of the emergency side exits. “Don’t tell me. We’re somehow on the edge of a cliff and the Bird is about to fall into it.”

 

“Dammit!” Iris shouted. “How the hell can you people be unable to get it into your heads that you aren’t supposed to swim in the ocean, but you can somehow figure out some entirely implausible scenario that has somehow come to fruition thanks to a series of unpredictable events?”

 

Vlad smiled at his guess. He would definitely bring this one up again with Iris, if and when they got out of this mess. “Why don’t we just stay here and let the foam soften the blow when we do fall off of the cliff?”

 

“Because there was only enough foam for one accident. I didn’t ever think you humans would be able to crash a Bird once, let alone twice within minutes. I do underestimate your ability to surprise me, time and time again.” Vlad headed toward the emergency exit, Camp on his heels. The dog clearly did not want to let Beryl leave his sight.

 

Vlad reached the exit, and turned the handle of the door before pulling it toward him. The door didn’t budge.

 

The action however, seemed to upset the equilibrium of the Bird, which lurched further backward.

 

Vlad turned and headed toward the other emergency exit. Again, when he pulled the handle, the door didn’t even move, let alone open.

 

“It’s not working!” Vlad yelled, knowing Iris was probably listening and watching every move he made. On his shoulder, Beryl was beginning to feel heavy.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with it that I can see or am getting any information on.” Iris’s voice wavered a bit, as if she was unsure of herself.

 

Vlad tried again, turning and pulling on the handle. The Bird lurched even more this time. He didn’t know how many more times he could do that before the Bird went over the side of the cliff, and he would rather not find out.

 

“It’s still not working.”

 

“Dammit! Try again!”

 

Vlad pulled, repeating the scenario yet again.

 

Iris was quiet for a moment, and Vlad considered pulling on the handle another time, taking his chances that it wouldn’t send the Bird over the cliff. It wasn’t as if he had a better option. If the back end of the ship was heading over the cliff, the back exit of the Bird was already hanging over air and a large drop, making it an unavailable option.

 

“Oops,” Iris said after her momentary silence.

 

“Oops, what?”

 

“Oops nothing. Except maybe this time, turn the handle and push on the door instead of pulling.”

 

“Are you kidding?”

 

“In my defense, I’m not the one who didn’t read the sign right that is literally fourteen inches in front of your face.” Iris said. Vlad looked at the door in

front of him, which clearly informed him the proper way to open the emergency door was to turn the handle and push.

 

Vlad shook his head and pushed the door out. This time, it easily opened, showing the edge of a cliff just below him. They were definitely at the point where the Bird was so precariously poised, even the smallest change could send it careening to the rocks below. While Vlad was sure the Bird would survive the fall intact, he knew neither he, Camp, nor Beryl would be so lucky.

 

Taking a breath, Vlad jumped from the Bird, sending it lurching backward. In the door, Camp hesitated for the briefest second, jumping just as the ship fell backward. He landed at Vlad’s feet, just as the Bird tilted backward a final time and fell to the cliff base several hundred feet below where the trio now stood.

 

*

 

Vlad looked at the jungle around them and came to two immediate conclusions.

 

First, this was somewhere he had never been. Granted, there were huge swaths of Columbina that he would be able to say this about, but never had he been in one of them without a Bird and, therefore, a means of escape nearby. This single fact made a huge difference in how he felt about his location, particularly when he knew it was home to Vos.

 

Second, and more immediately important, he could see that, even with its ability to land vertically like a helicopter, there was nowhere for a Bird to land here.

 

It seemed he was about to take a hike.

 

“Vlad, we’re in the air,” Iris said through his phone.

 

“Great. Is Beryl still doing OK?”

 

“Let’s go with yes. At least, as good as can be expected for someone who just got bitten by a poisonous hamster creature, then suffered through an accident on a Bird and had to evacuate it before falling off of a cliff.”

 

“I’m going to point out that I’m the one who saved her from the last one killing her. And I’m the one who is about to have to hike to wherever you can land the Bird. Please tell me it isn’t much of a hike.”

 

“Um…” Iris trailed off, and Vlad didn’t have to look at his phone to know he was in for a hike. “We’ll meet you halfway. Just head west and we’ll find you.”

 

*

 

Vlad heard Iris trampling through the woods before he saw her.

 

At least, he hoped it was Iris and not a Vos. He took some consolation knowing the Vos usually announced their presence before attacking.

 

Not that they always did, so it was only partial consolation.

 

Iris crashed through the woods then, nearly running into Vlad.

 

Definitely not a Vos. And thankfully so.

 

Behind her, Fawn came through the woods, closely following in Iris’s footsteps with a small bag in her hand. Vlad knew she was a friend of Beryl’s, but he didn’t know much about her beyond that, except that she was very young to be here. And, apparently, she was responsible for helping Iris save Beryl’s life.

 

Iris apparently saw a look on Vlad’s face suggesting he wasn’t confident in Fawn’s ability to do anything.

 

“We left the doctors to deal with Reed,” Vlad was familiar with what had happened earlier in the day. With only a few hundred people on Columbina, news traveled fast. “But I’d rather have Fawn here than any of them.”

 

The young woman beamed at the compliment. Vlad remembered Beryl telling him she was smart and a great medic, and he tried to squelch his fears. He knew they had less to do with Fawn and her age and skill than they had to do with his love for Beryl and his need not to have anything happen to her.

 

“Put her down,” Iris commanded Vlad. He carefully laid Beryl out on the ground. She did not look good. Her face was pale, and touching her arms as he put her on the ground, they felt cold, as if her blood was not circulating properly. Vlad pushed a strand of hair from her eyes as he lowered her head to the ground.

 

“Shit,” Iris said, “She isn’t breathing.”

 

“What?!” Vlad put his head to her chest, but he couldn’t feel or hear anything. “She was breathing a few seconds ago.”

 

“You’re not helping!” Iris yelled at Vlad. “Fawn, give me the a-shot.”

 

Fawn pulled something out of the bag she was carrying and handed Iris a small needle. It looked almost too small to be able to do anything to help Beryl. Iris lifted the needle into the air, then shoved it into Beryl’s bare arm.

 

Nothing happened.

 

“Shit,” Iris said again. Vlad was quickly getting tired of hearing her frustration. “Fawn, the b-shot.”

 

Fawn repeated her previous action, handing Iris a small needle. Again, Iris plunged the needle into Beryl’s arm, and again, nothing happened.

 

“Damn it, Beryl, wake up,” Iris said, pleading with the young woman.

 

“Iris, do something!” Vlad pleaded, taking Beryl’s cold hand in his. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Iris was too smart to let a hamster kill Beryl.

 

“I don’t know what else to do!” Iris yelled. Vlad had the distinct feeling that if she could have, Iris would have been crying right now.

 

For the first time, Vlad thought he was going to lose Beryl.

 

He squeezed her hand and shut his eyes, willing her to breathe.

 

And then, she gasped, pulling in air desperately, as if she would never get another chance to breathe.

 

Almost immediately, she sat up, coughing. For the first time since she had passed out after being bitten by the hamster-like animal, she opened her eyes.

 

Vlad squeezed Beryl’s hand again. Across from him, both Iris and Fawn looked relieved to see their friend awake. Camp nudged under her arm, trying to get as close as he could without actually sitting on her lap.

 

Beryl breathed a few times, catching breath she had lost. Finally, her chest stopped heaving up and down with the effort of resupplying her body with oxygen.

 

“Those little hamster things really pack a punch,” she finally said, the smallest of a smile creeping across her lips. She didn’t know it then, but it would be years before they would even see one of the little creatures again. And never again would a human on Columbina trap one of them.

 

“They really are little bastards,” Vlad said.

 

“Iris,” Beryl asked, “has anyone come up with a name for the hamster bastards?”

 

“Nope. Do you have a name for them?” Iris asked, hoping that she wouldn’t get yet another uncreative name for one of the creatures that populated the planet, like the Vos or the Crowls.

 

“I do,” Beryl smiled. “They’re little hamstards.”