{"id":2168,"date":"2020-12-19T18:59:33","date_gmt":"2020-12-20T01:59:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2168"},"modified":"2020-12-19T19:10:20","modified_gmt":"2020-12-20T02:10:20","slug":"a-bird-in-hand","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2020\/12\/19\/a-bird-in-hand\/","title":{"rendered":"A Bird In Hand"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write about someone who is given a bird for the holidays but doesn\u2019t know how to take care of it.<\/em>…
available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

2122 Dec 25, 7:44 PM<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam Feld had wanted it for years, ever since she joined the agency. Now that she had it, she began to doubt herself. Was she ready? Agents usually had weeks or months to get used to, she\u2019d had less than six days. Was this something she could do? It was time to find out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpotter 1 to birdie, you good?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She closed her eyes, her left hand felt strange. Her left pointer finger throbbed for a moment then settled down. Just a light touch<\/em>, she thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpotter 1 to birdie\u2026 Samantha!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m good,\u201d she said. She picked up the box from the seat next to her. She wore stained jeans, urban hikers, and a band tee under an old flannel. “Why this instead of a groupie?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Because as a groupie you’d never get in.” For a voice over a link, Sam was certain she could hear him smiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Why would you say that?” she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Let’s just say that as a groupie for the target, you lack the proper equipment.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Ah, he’s gay.” She clipped a name tag on her flannel. “Guitar tech it is. Anyone I might have heard of?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You know better, Sam. They\u2019re targets. They have no names,” the voice in her ear said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpotter 2 to Sam, eyes on target in location. Time to fly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Birdie en route,” Sam replied, knowing that everyone involved in the case\u2026 including the director, was listening in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2122 Dec 19, 1:12 PM<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAgent Feld, report to Director Clemens,\u201d the voice over the PA said, \u201cAgent Feld, report to Director Clemens.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not what she wanted to hear during an early Christmas party, but she left the revelry for the director\u2019s office fourteen floors up. She felt the cooling as the elevator rose closer to the ground level. Sub-level sixteen, where the rectifiers hung out, was always stuffy, as the floor below housed the geothermal plant for the building.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Above the director\u2019s office, which took up an entire floor, was the basement of a pawn shop that specialized in used bionics. While they no doubt were thoroughly sanitized after refurbishing, the thought of putting used parts in her body disgusted Sam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The elevator opened at the director\u2019s floor and Sam found herself face-to-face with the director herself. She was an exceptionally tall woman with whip-like muscles, ebon-skinned with large, dark eyes and a short afro. Anyone who didn\u2019t know would think that she had no bionics at all. In fact, she had only top-of-the-line enhancements.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSam, you\u2019re getting your Christmas present early,\u201d Clemens said, stepping into the elevator. She pushed the button for the next floor down. \u201cYou\u2019ve been promoted. You\u2019re our newest birdie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2122 Dec 25, 7:48 PM<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam knew everything<\/em> about the box she carried. It contained a vintage guitar pedal, completely restored with period-correct parts. She knew the operating voltages, how the dials on top changed the passed electronic signals, and what effect it had on the sound it generated. That was deemed to be enough for this job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Learning it had not been easy, but it was quick. One of the benefits of being a birdie was that information could be passed directly into her long-term memory via a link. It was also a downside, as long-term memory in that part of her brain could also be erased. If she\u2019d had time to practice, to get accustomed slowly, it would have been easy. Instead, it was as if her head was being smashed in a vice while bright lights danced in her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She showed the box to the guard at the service entrance of the studio. He scanned it with a reader and nodded, opening the door to let her in. \u201cStraight down the hall to the end, then left. He\u2019s in the room with the purple door.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d she said, and strode in with far more confidence than she felt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2120 Aug 4, 2:53 AM<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpotter 1 to birdie, all set?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRoger.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpotter 1 to birdie, eyes on target.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBirdie away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam watched through the scope of her sniper rifle, the video feed of the drone overhead super-imposed on the view. As she angled the barrel up or down the point of impact, shown by a red dot, moved in response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBirdie heading back to the nest. Target marked.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWaiting for drone acquisition,\u201d Sam said. She watched the drone feed until a glowing orange, vaguely person-shaped figure showed up. \u201cTarget acquired.\u201d She adjusted her aim as the red dot moved up the figure\u2019s legs, past its torso, to its head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She let out her breath and squeezed the trigger. The orange figure collapsed. \u201cTarget down.\u201d She watched the feed from the drone to ensure there were no life signs. \u201cTarget rectified, 2:57 AM.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam broke down her sniper rifle and put the pieces into her backpack. The drone returned and landed next to her. That was disassembled and placed in the pack with the rifle. She picked up the spent casing and deposited it in the pack as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once she closed up the backpack, she sealed it with a strip of confidential courier tape. She turned her black jacket inside-out to reveal the highly reflective security side with a \u201c24-hour Courier\u201d logo. Backpack slung over her shoulder, she got onto her scooter and headed toward the downtown corridor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2122 Dec 19, 1:31 PM<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The floor had two operating theatres connected to exam rooms, a standard-looking office, and a large lab. The rest of the space was open, glistening white floors and walls, with a seating area to one side with comfortable couches and chairs. Clemens walked Sam to the office and spoke to the man behind the desk. \u201cAgent Feld is here for a B-I-R-D.\u201d She spelled it out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAgent, I\u2019m Doctor Angvitz,\u201d he said, \u201cand we\u2019ll get you set up with a bird right away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you need to call anyone in,\u201d Clemens said, \u201cdo it, on my authority. We\u2019re on a time crunch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo problem, Director,\u201d he said. \u201cThe operating theatre is ready, and we have a full kit on-hand.\u201d Turning to Sam he asked, \u201cWhat model radio do you have?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not sure,\u201d she said. \u201cWhatever was implanted when I started back in \u201919.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019ll have to go. No matter.\u201d He pointed to the hallway. \u201cHead into exam room two and strip. Someone will be in to get you prepped. We\u2019ll have you out of here in time for dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clemens said, \u201cAngvitz, call me when it\u2019s done,\u201d and left before the doctor could answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam entered the exam room and stripped, folding her clothes carefully and placing them in a neat pile on the chair. A young woman in scrubs came in. \u201cStand still, arms out to the sides.\u201d She scanned Sam\u2019s body with a laser, all the measurements being fed to the computers that controlled the robotic arms in the OR. With a soft-tipped pen she traced the location of the radio embedded behind Sam\u2019s ear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo I get a gown or anything?\u201d Sam asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry, it would just get in the way. The Bionic Implant Rectifier package, series D requires full-body access. Your radio behind the ear, of course, and the leads into the memory module in the hippocampus. Then you have the micro-wire device in the bionic fingertip. An anti-poison enhancement on the liver, sorry \u2014 you won\u2019t get drunk ever again. Add to that, adrenaline production enhancement, a built-in defibrillator, and nerve jacks to speed response in arms, legs, hands, feet, hips, and torso.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam shrugged. Walking around naked didn\u2019t seem that big of deal, considering what was about to happen. \u201cWell then, I\u2019ll just focus on the idea that I\u2019m naked rather than about to be cut to ribbons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou realize that being a birdie is lot more demanding than being a rectifier, right?\u201d the young woman asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow so?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe not physically more demanding, once you get used to the implants,\u201d she said, \u201cbut mentally. You normally see what, a blob in a scope?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis will require you to get close, close enough to touch,\u201d she said, \u201cclose enough to look them in the eye. Are you sure you\u2019re up to it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI am,\u201d Sam answered, even though she wasn\u2019t sure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAssent recorded and verified, 1:54 PM.\u201d She told Sam to lay on the table and gave her an injection. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Sam woke four hours later, she was reclining on one of the couches. She didn\u2019t feel any different. A notice on her phone told her to report to the director bright and early on the 25th<\/sup>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2122 Dec 25, 8:04 AM<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam was in the director\u2019s office once again. This time she stood in front of the director\u2019s desk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAgent Feld, you have an assignment this evening.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRectification?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the birdie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut I haven\u2019t had time to adjust,\u201d she said. \u201cWhat about Coulter? Murray? Watkins?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOn leave, assignment in Vera Cruz, in the hospital.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnyone?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clemens leaned forward. \u201cIt sucks, but everyone\u2019s on assignment, or unreachable. That\u2019s why the rush. You\u2019ll do fine, you learn fast,\u201d she said. \u201cThis is an easy one. What\u2019s the saying, \u2018A bird in hand beats two in the bush?\u2019 You\u2019re in hand, they\u2019re all in the bushes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2122 Dec 25 7:50 PM<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam knocked on the purple door. \u201cEddie\u2019s guitars, I have your pedal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah! Yeah! Come in!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam entered the room, the haze of cannabis hanging thick. There was the target. She hadn\u2019t been told who the target was, but the knowledge had been implanted in such a way that she would know when she saw him. Everyone knew who he was. His music made him famous, his anti-vaccine stance made him infamous. In the midst of one of the most virulent and deadly pandemics, he urged people not<\/em> to be vaccinated against the MRC-4, or \u201cmerc virus\u201d as it was called.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At his last show he had claimed the virus was a hoax, meant to scare the people into compliance. While most of the population was vaccinated or in the queue to get vaccinated, less than ten percent of Jaxxon fans said they were or were going to be vaccinated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam realized she\u2019d been staring and pulled herself together. \u201cWow, Jaxxon! When I went to work today, I didn\u2019t expect it would end like this!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on in,\u201d he said, \u201clet me see that pedal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She handed him the box but couldn\u2019t get skin contact as he was wearing his trademark leather gloves. He opened it and whistled. \u201cLooks almost new,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe cleaned it up the best we could, before putting it back together.\u201d Sam knew<\/em> exactly what steps had been taken to refurbish the pedal, as if she\u2019d done it herself. \u201cThe gain has a little hitch between one and two, but it\u2019s a flaw that was in the original. If you want that fixed, I can patch it in about twenty minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, no,\u201d he said. \u201cI want it just the way it was.\u201d He pointed to a similar pedal in the rack on the floor, the paint worn off and the pedal surface rubbed down to bare metal. \u201cThat one died on me last night, and your store was the only one who had a replacement. Hard to believe this thing is over a hundred years old.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He replaced worn pedal with the one she\u2019d delivered and plugged his guitar in. Sam watched, waiting for a moment she could get close enough to make contact. He saw her staring and asked, \u201cWould you like to try her out?\u201d He offered his guitar to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m not really,\u201d she almost said the wrong thing but stopped herself, \u201cuh\u2026 very good.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all right, kid. Give it your best.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The voice in her ear said, \u201cRelax Sam, here comes the guitar lessons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Blinding pain shot behind her eyes and she groaned, nearly doubling over. The pain was brief, but when she stood back up everyone in the room had their eyes on her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou okay?\u201d Jaxxon asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, I just get these\u2026 short migraines,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m fine now.\u201d She took the offered guitar and strummed a few chords, before ripping into a blazing solo. After thirty bars or so she petered out. \u201cThat\u2019s, uh, all I got,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jaxxon had a smirk. \u201cKid, that\u2019s more than I got some nights. You gonna\u2019 stay for the show? I\u2019ll tell \u2018em to let you sit near the center camera.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The voice in her ear said, \u201cNo. Make your move, birdie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI really wish I could, Jaxxon, but I have to get back to work.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn that case, have your phone? Want a selfie?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat would be awesome!\u201d Sam managed to sound far more excited than she really was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pulled out her phone and put her arm around his shoulder. Her left forefinger rested against his neck. They smiled and she took the picture while microscopic needles extended from her false finger and embedded in his neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks, Jaxxon!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey Leslie,\u201d he said, looking at her name tag, \u201cit\u2019s Jack to my friends.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLater Jack!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He scratched his neck. \u201cFeels like you have a wire splinter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHazard of the job,\u201d she said. She didn\u2019t let her smile fade until she was well away from the studio and back in her car. She settled into the car and exhaled. \u201cBirdie back to the nest, target marked.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe nest is waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2122 Dec 25, 11:12 PM<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam sat at home, catching up on the news. The local news had a breaking story that she clicked through to watch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJacques Dumas, better known by his stage name Jaxxon, died during a live-stream concert from our studios this evening. The often-vocal opponent of vaccination died of the MRC-4 virus, doctors have confirmed. It\u2019s not clear where he picked it up,\u201d the announcer said, as Sam smirked, \u201cbut anyone who has had close contact with him in the past ten days is urged to get tested immediately, even if you\u2019ve been vaccinated.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam pulled out her phone and deleted the selfie of her with Jaxxon. The voice in her ear said, \u201cRelax, Sam, time to clean up.\u201d Pain shot through her head like lightning, flashes in front of her eyes. When it ended, she got up from the floor where she had fallen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. \u201cHey, I know someone\u2019s listening. I think there might be a problem with the bird. I just had a massive headache, and I don\u2019t know what happened since this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The voice in her ear returned. \u201cEverything is working fine. Take tomorrow off and then report to the training room on floor sub eleven. We\u2019ll have you handling your bird in no time.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write about someone who is given a bird for the holidays but doesn\u2019t know how to take care of it.…available at Reedsy 2122 Dec 25, 7:44 PM Sam Feld had wanted it for years, …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[226,210,187,228,209],"class_list":["post-2168","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-cyberpunk","tag-fiction","tag-holiday","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-yY","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2168","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2168"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2168\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2171,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2168\/revisions\/2171"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2168"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2168"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2168"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}