Luke sat looking into the fire, his coat growing cooler on his back. Davy sat looking at him across the flame. "So what are you going to do when you get there?"
     "I haven't decided yet." Luke turned around to warm his backside. "I'll figure that out when I get there. I first need to see how things have changed in the last two and a half years."
     "Well, I'm gonna take a hot bath. Then I'm gonna find a girl and get drunk. It's been too long out here."
     "The bath and booze will be easy enough. But you won't find many free women in Clocksburg. They're pretty straight and narrow there."
     "Then why are we going there, Luke? Do you have something to do at the space port?"
     "Some unfinished business, if it hasn't settled itself on its own. Something personal." Luke looked up at the stars and started converting the constellations he had learned on Earth as a child to those that were named for animals brought from there to beta Hydri two, in the hopes of preventing extinction. He located and traced the lines of the Bullfrog at the edge of the Great River, as the Milky Way was called, where all the water related animals were represented. He measured a fist at arm's length from the star to his right, Polaris, representing the tip of the extended tongue of the frog and the captured insect. He was barely able to make out Sol, quite dim at fourteen light years distance. "We'd better get to bed. Morning comes early, and we still have miles to travel."
     "You want the rest of the ridras? It would be a shame to see good food go to waste."
     "You finish it. I don't feel much like eating."
     "Suit yourself." Davy pulled the platter toward him as Luke turned, went into his tent, and climbed into his sleeping bag. It was cool to the touch, but it soon warmed to his body heat. He tried to go to sleep, but the image of Cheryl stayed on his mind, refusing to part and let him find darkness. He turned several times before he went out to the rover, opened the medkit, and downed a sleeping pill. He felt the formula go to work within minutes, and he gratefully drifted off.

     Dr. Cheryl Morgan felt a grab at her shoulder, and she turned to look. There was Popeck, a Jamaican Yellowhead, climbing onto her shoulder from his perch. "Bird tax." he squawked.
     "Bird tax?"
     "Bird tax."
     "You are such a hungry thing. Okay, I just happen to have half an apple in my coat pocket. Do I get a kiss for it?" Popeck placed his beak against Cheryl's lips and cooed. "You are such a sweetie." She pulled out the half of an apple and cut off a generous slice. She placed it on top of Popeck's cage where he could easily see it. He crawled off her shoulder, going after the offering. He grabbed the slice between his foot's two sets of opposing claws and starting digging into the fruit with his beak.
     A knock came at the door, and she turned to go answer it. She opened the door to find a couple standing there looking about at the collection of free flying parrots, macaws, and cockatoos in the tropically warm aviary. "May I help you?" she inquired.
     "Uh, yes. I understand that you sell parrots. We are interested in purchasing a pair. We were told up front to see you." The young man didn't seem to Cheryl to be very confident, seeming a bit lost in the surroundings.
     "Are you experienced breeders?"
     "No, we've never owned a bird before."
     "Then I'm afraid that I can't offer you any of my birds. I'm not in the pet business."
     "Oh, then why do you raise all these birds?"
     "Call me concerned. I brought most of these birds or their parents from Earth. They were becoming endangered from loss of habitat. I'm conducting a breeding program, since the tropical environment here on New Chance is very close to ideal for their natural propagation in the wild. These birds you see here are my tamed ones, my prime breeders that I use for raising young parrots destined for release."
     "And you don't sell them?"
     "Only to qualified breeders that want to share in my efforts to insure the survival of these resplendent animals. I'm not here for profit. I'm here to save a family of birds that are in danger of becoming extinct on their home world."
     "Oh, come now. Parrots extinct?"
     "Yes. Very much so. They have been highly exploited on Earth by man. They've been killed because they pose a threat to crops by farmers that have eradicated the rain forests that was their natural habitat. They've been sold as pets because of their bright color and ability to mimic speech. Very amusing pets, but people buy them singly without thought of breeding them. Their numbers have dwindled very rapidly.
     "There are a few people that are raising them as I am, but there is little hope they will survive in the diminishing wilds of Earth, and they certainly won't survive in farm lands where they are cursed worse than the American crow. They have huge appetites and live about as long as humans. A flock can wipe out a farmer's crop in very little time, especially fruit orchards, but they are having nowhere else to feed, because the equatorial farmers have stripped their natural feeding grounds of their food source.
     "I am here on a grant, working with a foundation that hopes that they can survive here on New Chance, where the wilds are not threatened as they are on Earth due to man's overcrowding. It's a long shot, considering the adaptation they must undergo with the different micro-biology of this world. We are having to immunize them when they are hatched from the strains that we know are deadly to them. The problem is that we don't yet know all the strains to which they are susceptible. I'm not the only person involved in this endeavor. I merely head the project and oversee the care of the birds here at our breeding center.
     "We have teams at the release sites that watch over the new flocks to see how well they adapt, collect the dying birds to do autopsies so that our micro-biology lab based elsewhere for safety reason may try to come up with inoculations to bolster their immunities. These remote teams also observe the diets of those released so that we can be sure that they are receiving balanced nutrients. When we find deficiencies, we make an effort to plant foods that will supplement their needs. There are also natural enemies to identify. They will be needed to keep the population in check once they gain a foothold in the environment, yet we can't let them decimate the birds at this early point in time.
     "So you can see that we are a serious organization that looks dimly on people that wish to own parrots simply so that they will have someone to say hello to them when they come home. Not that I blame you for your ignorance, but you see why we refuse to go into the pet business. Now should you gain an interest strong enough to where you wish to undergo a study of these birds thorough enough to truly care for them and breed them, we will be glad to have you join us in our efforts.
     "But let me warn you, it's no easy task. There are diseases to fight, an immediate and lengthy incubation and eggs to separate out by test, diets to consider, behavior controls to maintain, environments to provide, and much more. You'd be studying for several years both here and in the field before you'd be trusted with any of the birds. They are extremely expensive to transport here from Earth, and their diet has to be altered to a native one. There's also farming the food for the breeders here that exist on an Earth based diet, too old to change their eating habits and still reproduce at optimal rate.
     "So, unless you are prepared to undertake this very extensive and specialized field of study, I suggest that you go looking elsewhere for birds. But if you are serious, then please come back. And if you'd like to just come and watch, we have a number of people here that would love to talk your arm off about the birds we have here."
     "I apologize." offered the man. "I can see that we had a serious misconception about this place."
     "Ignorance that does no harm is forgivable. Apology accepted. Feel free to spend some time here if you like. I'm afraid that I have duties that keep me from being your continual host, but that man over there with the blue and yellow macaw on his shoulder is named Frederick Holt. He's sort of our guide here. He can tell you all about each species we have here, from Latin name to original habitat to diet. He's also a very congenial person. He'll be very happy to tell you more than your head can hold in one sitting. If you'll excuse me. I have someone waiting on my attention. My pleasure." Cheryl walked away from the couple and went over to Peter Walener. "What is it, Pete?"
     "We have a rhynchopsitta pachyrhyncha that refuses to eat."
     "Harpo?"
     "The same. Hasn't eaten for two days. I've isolated him over in ward three. He seems to be running a bit of a temperature. I've taken a blood sample and sent it over to Bio."
     "Any other symptoms?"
     "A bit listless, but not abnormally so. Stool is normal so far."
     "Did you check for external parasites?"
     "Yes. Nothing unusual noted. He wasn't too happy about being checked and gave me this love bite." Peter held up his hand to show the wound.
     "Get that doctored. Maria is in her office."
     "It's not serious."
     "Peter, I've told you time and time again about any bites from sick parrots. You know I don't want any walking carriers in my compound. If it's a microbe, it might not affect you directly, but you might pass it onto the birds."
     "All right."
     "Are you going to stay on the case?"
     "Yes. Harpo is a good friend of mine. We understand each other."
     "Is that why he bit you?" she asked.
     "You'd bite too, if someone was inspecting your privates."
     "I'd do more than bite."
     "I don't doubt it."
     "Oh, shut up and get over to Maria, you over-zealous Don Juan."
     "Yes, Doctor. If ever you. . . ."
     "I'll have no trouble finding someone of my own choosing. Now get."
     "You lost your one chan. . . ."
     "Not one word, Pete. Not one word."
     Pete turned and walked away in silence, knowing better than to speak. He'd made his point. He wouldn't push it.

     Davy walked into the bar with an overly exaggerated strut. "Ah, back in civilization once again. Bartender, a beer."
     "Which brand?" he asked, pointing up at the rack of empty bottles, indicating the selection they carried.
     "Doesn't matter. Any beer will do, as long as it's cold."
     "I never select a brew for a customer."
     "You don't?"
     "No. One man's beer is another man's sodie pop."
     Davy broke into a loud laugh. "Hey, that's a good one. Okay, make it a Rhiner." Davy looked around at the people looking back. They all turned their heads away, now that he was looking. He dismissed the crowd with a soured twist of the lips and thought of a few mildly derogatory adjectives. The bartender placed his beer before him. Davy spun a credit coin onto the bartop and watched it twirl.
     "Credit and a quarter."
     "Hmm. Prices have gone up since I was in town."
     "New liquor tax hike. We have to stay in business. Will that be all for you?"
     "Yeah, but my friend will be right behind me."
     "Fabulous."
     Davy threw a second coin on the bar for a tip, a quarter instead of the credit piece he was first intending. The bartender turned and went to serve a waitress with her order for a table. Davy turned and looked at the woman next to him at the bar, obviously alone. "Are you a regular here?"
     "Not often." she replied, keeping her gaze ahead of her to discourage him. "I'm just trying to drink away a memory that someone inspired in me today. The last thing I want right now is a man's attention."
     "What's your name?"
     "What business is that of yours?" she snapped.
     "Just being sociable."
     "Is that what you call it?"
     "You don't have to get uppity on me."
     "I don't?" she replied incredulously.
     "Aw, now, I know that I may be a little unrefined, but I've been out in the brush for over five months."
     "So I can smell."
     "My partner was right. You broads are all up tight in this town."
     Luke came into the bar, not paying attention to Davy's conversation. He came up behind Davy, on the far side from the woman, stopping without seeing her. He signaled the bartender. "I'll take a Fletcher's on the rocks with a twist."
     "Fletcher's with a twist?" said the woman and turned to look past Davy. She stared at Luke with a very complex expression on her face that showed just about everything but joy. Luke looked back.
     "Hello, Cheryl. How's the parrot farm?"
     "Surviving."
     "You know her, partner?" asked Davy. Both Cheryl and Luke ignored him, maintaining the eye contact. Luke reached into his oversized coat pocket and extracted an envelope wrapped in a protective plastic sheath.
     "This is for you. Bergman asked me to deliver it to you."
     "He did?"
     "Yes. A storm wiped out the postal station. He felt that I was more reliable."
     "It's nice that someone thinks so."
     "You haven't changed a bit, have you?" Luke took the drink and downed it one gulp. He paid the bartender.
     "You have, though. You used to sip those."
     "I still sip them in pleasant company." He turned and walked out of the bar. Davy watched him go, then turned to Cheryl
     "You know Luke?"
     "Knew."
     "You two on bad terms or something?"
     "Or something. Do me a favor. Finish your beer and go with him. I'm not in the mood for conversation. He's the memory I came here to forget."
     "Tell me a good place to get a bath, and you have a deal."
     "Ask Luke."
     "Luke is gone."
     "Try the hotel on the next block." Cheryl pointed a finger north so he wouldn't come back from being lost.
     "Thanks."
     "My extreme pleasure. Good-bye."
     Davy finished off his beer and left, wondering what the story was between these two. Cheryl sat there staring blankly at the wall for ten minutes before opening the delivered letter.

     Davy knocked on the door. It opened after better than a minute's wait. Luke stood there wet with a towel around him.
     "Do you mind if I make use of your bath?"
     "Come on in."
     "Hey, what is it between you and this Cheryl lady?"
     "Must you ask?"
     "Is she the reason you've been so quiet on the way here? From the way you act, I figure she is. What was she, a lover?"
     "Why do you say that?"
     "Cause of the way you two were acting. Only old lovers with bad blood between them act like you two were acting."
     "There's the bathroom, Davy. Have at it."
     "You don't want to talk about it?"
     "Not particularly."
     "Okay, keep me in the dark. Treat me like dirt. Everybody else here seems to do it. Why not you?"
     "It's complicated, Davy."
     "And you're still sore about it."
     "No, she is."
     "What did you do?"
     "Let's just say she has high standards, too high to be reasonable."
     "So you messed up, huh?"
     "Davy, take a bath. Don't get me going."
     "That bad, huh? You must still love her."
     "Davy, take a bath or get your own room."
     "All right. This hotel is too expensive."

     Luke sat on a park bench, having left while Davy bathed. He'd stopped at a food store and bought some imported fruit from Earth for a snack to ease his churning stomach. A parrot landed on the bench's backrest next to him and eyed the apple, bobbing its head. "Bird tax."
     "Louie?"
     "Bird tax. Love Louie. Bird tax."
     "How in the world did you get out of the compound? I thought the good doctor was more careful than that. You haven't been clipped in a while. You must have been nuzzling up to Loretta in the flight room. I hope that you gave her a few chicks before you flew the coop."
     The blunt-tailed parrot moved onto Luke's shoulder and rubbed his beak against his cheek. "Hi-ya, Luke."
     "Elephants and parrots never forget. And dogs and chimps, for that matter. And let us not forget the least forgetting creature, woman. Hi-ya, Louie. Did you miss me?"
     The parrot nuzzled him again. "Bird tax."
     "Hey, you don't want that apple. I know your favorite. I don't forget either." Luke reached into the bag and extracted a bunch of grapes.
     "Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Bird tax."
     "Give me a kiss first."
     Louie pressed his beak against Luke's lips, and Luke rewarded him with the grape in his hand. Louie took it viciously, almost taking part of a finger as well.
     "Somebody has been gone from home for a while, on this world other than that on which we were born. That makes two of us that have been without grapes or a home for a while. What do you say we eat on the run. I'm sure that you would be appreciated back where your lady friend lives. Can't leave those ladies alone too long while they still appreciate you. Take my word for it. Let's get you home on the grape express. What do you say?"
     "Bird tax."
     Luke fed Louie several grapes as he attached a length of chord to Louie's foot and his wrist with loose fitting but firmly tied knots. Then he walked toward the compound with Louie spilling grape juice on his shoulder.

     He walked in the front door of the reception room. A young lady was sitting there eating lunch. She looked up and took in the bird first, then Luke. "May I help you?"
     "You must be new here if you don't recognize either of us."
     "Just arrived from Earth last month. I'm doing my thesis here for my doctorate."
     "I see."
     Peter came into the lobby, having heard Luke's voice. "Well, well. A couple of guys I doubted that I ever see again. Louie, you're a bad boy."
     "Louie is a good bird. Hi-ya, guy."
     "Don't you hi-ya me, you escape artist. Hi, Luke. Life treating you well these days?"
     "Up until a couple of hours ago."
     "So you're the reason that the good doctor is fuming. I wondered what had set her off into the don't-talk-to-me glares. How did you catch Louie?"
     "He was hungry. I was in the park having his kind of lunch, imported." Luke showed the empty grape stem and then cut the leash from Louie's leg. He got him onto his hand and offered him to Peter. Louie refused transfer, climbing back onto Luke's shoulder. "Louie, abandon ship."
     "Give me a kiss."
     "Abandon ship. Storm warning."
     "Hi-ya, Luke."
     Luke shrugged to Peter.
     "Well, he always did favor you, Luke."
     "Well, at least somebody here did."
     "More than just Louie, if my memory serves me well."
     "Yeah, but Louie forgives. Storm warning. Storm warning."
     "Hi-ya, Luke."
     "I warned you, Louie. You give me no choice, guy. I can't be found hanging around here. Last chance. Storm warning."
     Louie refused Luke's wrist, going into biting posture at the offer. Luke twirled in a circle, dislodging Louie into flight. He landed on a filing cabinet. Peter offered Louie his wrist, and Louie went into biting posture again.
     "How long has he been out?"
     "Four weeks. Kenny hasn't been forgiven yet."
     "Kenny, huh? Poor guy. I know how he feels."
     "Want to come to say hello?"
     "Are you kidding me? I just came to return Louie to his girlfriend. I've been here too long already. Every second bears risk."
     "What can I say?"
     "Try, 'Thank you, Luke. May life be kind.'"
     "Thanks, Luke. This is truly appreciated, if not by everyone. Good luck to you."
     "I did it for Louie. Bye, Louie."
     "Bye, bye."
     "Best of luck, Pete. Nice to have met you. . . ." Luke read the nameplate on the desk, "Karen. Good luck on your doctorate." Luke gave a short bow and headed for the door. Louie took flight, headed for Luke. Luke saw him and went into a twirl again so that Louie had no chance of landing on his shoulder. He landed on the floor after a few moments. Knowing that parrots were such clumsy walkers, Luke took the opportunity to slip out the narrowly opened front door. He heard "Bye bye," behind him as he walked away, and it caught in throat. He gave himself a shake, before the sensation grew into something more embarrassing, and increased his pace.
     "Who was that?" asked Karen.
     "One heck of a nice guy, if you ask me. Some others around here don't share my opinion, though. One of the best bird handlers we ever had."
     "He and Doctor Morgan disagreed?"
     "Something like that. I wouldn't go talking about him unless you're asked, not unless you're cruising for a verbal bruising."
     "Oh. Persona non grata?"
     "To put it mildly."
     "What did he do?" she inquired.
     "He was at the right place at the right time and said yes. At least that's how it started. It went quite well, for a while, then dropped straight off a cliff."
     "I don't follow."
     "Perhaps it's best that you don't." Pete took Louie on his arm and took him back into the compound where he wouldn't escape again.

     Luke was lying in his hotel room alone, reading a newspaper mindlessly, vainly trying to catch up on current events after being out in the wild. Davy was out on the town, just as vainly looking for action. There came a knock at the door.
     "It's open!" he called.
     The door opened, and there stood Cheryl, not entering. "I was told that you brought Louie back to the compound and then left."
     "I couldn't let him continue to go hungry."
     "I want to thank you."
     "I did it for Louie's sake. There isn't enough Earth based food around here to support him."
     "I also heard that you had a hard time getting him off your shoulder."
     Luke shrugged.
     "Are you going to invite me in?"
     "I thought that I had already done so when I said that the door was open. Shall I make it more formal, following established procedure?"
     "Are you still mad at me?"
     "No. Mad is not what I feel, I passed that long ago."
     "Then what do you feel?" she asked.
     "All sorts of things these days. Depends on my current situation."
     "How about this current situation?"
     "Numb, bruised, a bit battered."
     "Did you miss me?"
     "You are asking a lot of questions that are hard to answer in words. It wasn't a matter of missing you. It was a matter of getting over you."
     "Okay. Are you bitter toward me?"
     "Some, though not severely. I try not think about it. I see no sense in drowning in past sorrows. I try to go on with what is available to me."
     "Do you see us as finished?"
     "You left me little choice to see it any other way. I did what I saw as necessary at the time. Look. . . . I didn't enjoy killing Greta and Roberto. I just saw it as necessary for the protection of the compound. They were extremely virulent and contagious. They were dying. I did it out of love, so that they wouldn't suffer, and so that they wouldn't infect the other birds. You acted as if I loved doing that to them. Those two birds meant a lot to me."
     "You didn't have to burn their bodies and the entire isolation ward with them."
     "In my opinion, I did."
     "We could have taken samples for analysis."
     "At risk to the other birds. I was not willing to take that chance. Look, we've been over this before. Either you forgive me or you don't. If you don't, then there's not much reason in any further communication between us. That's past, and in my opinion, should stay in the past. I see no need to drag it up again if there's not going to be any progress between us. It's senseless to go on beating each other over the head with it. What do want of me?"
     "I don't know."
     "If that is avoiding the question, it amounts to you wanting nothing from me, and consequently there is no further reason for you to be here."
     She gathered her courage with a big sigh. "Luke, I'm ill. Seriously so. It doesn't show, but in time it will. It's not something to which the birds are susceptible. But I don't have long. Maybe a year."
     "I'm sorry to hear that. You don't deserve that."
     "Do you honestly mean that?"
     "Yes." His single word was enough to show her that he meant it. Some things were still as familiar between them as if he'd never left.
     "I don't know of anyone better suited than you to take over my job. I'd like you back to fill my shoes when I'm no longer capable. I still love you. I guess that is why I reacted the way I did. Both reasons. Perhaps you did the right thing, playing to the side of caution. It's not what I would have done, though. I would have tried to save them. They were such valuable birds.
     "I've managed to get a replacement pair of rose cockatoos. I found them on a zoological shipment based out of Australia already in route. It wasn't easy to bargain for them with the owner, and I had to guarantee their return after we hatch our own set of breeders. There are so few of them left. I just couldn't see killing them without an effort at saving them, and we still don't know what it was that made them ill. I saw that as a terrible waste. I still do, and coming from you, that hurt very deeply. You were the man I loved and the man I hoped would take over for me if for some reason I couldn't continue. And now that turns out to be the case in the near future. Do you see why I reacted the way I did?"
     "Yes. I've seen that. I've had enough time to sort things out. But in turn, I feel you over-reacted. I don't think I deserved such abuse over a judgment call when you weren't here or anywhere within radio contact. You were not here to see how so very quickly their health deteriorated. It was extremely frightening. All you saw was that I killed your birds. Nothing else mattered."
     "Luke, it was a matter of trust. When I got back, I was shocked that you would kill them without an strong effort to save them. I found myself wondering if you would do the same to me under the same circumstances. It was a very personal thing. It made me question everything that I had felt about you. I was angry with myself for giving trust so easily."
     "So you took it out on me."
     "Yes, but I couldn't help it. It was such a shock."
     "Cheryl, if you had seen Greta and Roberto in the condition they were suffering, you'd have done the same thing. You may deny it, but you'd have done what I did. The difference is you did not see them ill. You did not see their flesh rotting on their bones while they still lived.
     "That tore my guts out, and I saw every other bird here suffering the same way. It was horrible to hold them and have them look at me in such agony. I've never seen anything in my life dying so hideously. They were my friends. I couldn't let them suffer, and I couldn't take a chance of seeing the other birds that were my friends go the same way. If this infection had spread, there would be nothing here today except an empty set of buildings and sickening memories. I did what I thought was right. I'd do it again if faced with the same choice. I hated doing it, but I couldn't have done otherwise. Not faced with such horror.
     "I know that I lost the chance to define the illness. But that was not a consideration compared the loss of the entire breeding stock. You will never have any idea of how I felt that day. The way you reacted hurt deeply, but it was minor compared to when I killed Greta and Roberto. Your reaction was the straw that broke my back and made me walk away from here, but it was the memory of that illness that made the real difference. If it had been for something more trivial, I would have stayed and suffered your abuse. But I couldn't take it on top of what I felt. It was too much. You blamed me for something over which I had no conceivable choice in doing.
     "I can not come back unless you forgive me of doing something that I had to do. There was too much at stake and too great a chance that it would happen. Faced with what I saw, your rules for procedure did not apply. I wasn't negligent, I wasn't unconscientious, I wasn't vindictive, I wasn't insensitive. Yet you blamed me for each of those things. I did the only thing I could do in my heart, and it hurt like hell.
     "I left here because you did not allow me the possibility that I acted in good faith. Trust goes two ways, as does love. I understood your shock, but I couldn't take the blame for feelings I didn't have in an act that tore me apart worse than it did you. You showed me not one ounce of compassion while I was in deep sorrow. You showed me not one ounce of benefit of the doubt. That isn't love. That isn't trust. And until you can show me that you possess the ability to forgive me, to trust me, and to love me, I can't return here to work with you."
     "Maybe I was wrong."
     "What was, that no longer matters to me. What is, now, matters."
     "I need you, Luke. The birds need you."
     "And I need you to forgive, trust, and love. I can't work with you without those things. I'm sorry, but I still carry pain over this. I can't function with love for the birds if that love is not supported. I'd only transfer my pain to them in the process, and I refuse to subject them to that. I'd rather be gone than to give them emotions they don't deserve."
     "Do you still love me, Luke?"
     "Behind the pain, I still do. But I can't reach behind the pain. I avoid the love I feel for you because I avoid the pain as much as possible. Only you can remove that pain, and only if you forgive, trust, and love me. If the pain were removed, I could love you again. I've already forgiven you. With your understanding, I could trust you again. But I can't let myself feel the love unless the pain is out of the way. It hurts too much."
     "I need you, Luke. I need you very much."
     "It's a two way street, Cheryl. I can't be more plain than I have been. I can not give unless you reciprocate."
     "Can you give me some time to think?"
     "Sure. I can spare a few days, but not much more. If it takes longer than that, it wouldn't work anyway. Either it's in you or it isn't. Either you can forgive me and understand and put your pride away, or you can't."
     "Can we make a go of it?"
     "I think so. The question is not can, but will we do so. What do you want more, my help or the feeling that you can't make mistakes? I've always been willing. But I can't. You can, but you haven't been willing. Our fate together lies in your hands."
     "It won't be for all that long, Luke."
     "I'll do for you whatever you need as long as you make it possible for me to do so. It just depends on what you want most."
     "What you want doesn't matter?"
     "Not since I left here. Since then, the only thing that has mattered is what I can do. I do what I can, not what I want."
     "What do you want?"
     "Haven't I made that clear?" he asked.
     "Not directly. I've deduced, but I haven't heard."
     "I guess that's because I've given up wanting. It hurts too much to want. Pain stands between me and what I want. Pain destroys what I want. What I want hasn't changed. Only my ability to pursue it has changed."
     "Don't leave town until you hear from me again. Please."
     "I'll let you know if you've taken too long. I don't seem to be able to hold onto hope as well as I used to."
     Cheryl nodded and left, softly closing the door behind her.

     "Pete, would come into my office?" requested Cheryl.
     "Sure. Is there a problem?"
     "Not with the birds."
     "Luke?"
     "In my office."
     They entered Cheryl's office, and she shut the door. "Pete, I need something from your memory."
     "Greta and Roberto?"
     "Yes. Tell me what happened."
     "Are you going to give Luke a second chance?"
     "Just tell me what happened as you remember it."
     "Could I ask why you want to know this?"
     "Tell me first, please. I don't want current events to influence your telling. I just want to know what happened, as you remember it."
     "Okay. You had been gone about a week when the first symptoms were noticed by Terri. Greta had completely stopped eating, and you remember what a voracious appetite she had, chewing everything in sight, swallowing it down if it tasted good, spitting it out if it didn't. She hadn't touched a bite. No stools were noticed either. Not a one of her chew sticks had been touched by her insatiable jaws. It was Terri's first chore of the day, and she came to me to report it. I went to check on her with Terri, and then we both went directly to Luke. He transferred her to isolation, moved in a disinfectant drenched, sealed cage according to standard procedure. He also put Roberto in the adjoining stall in isolation in the same manner.
     "I guess it was the lack of stool, but for some reason, Luke insisted that the three of us undergo a complete disinfectant washing before making contact with any other birds. I complained about him being too cautious, but he insisted. It wasn't just hands as usual. It was full bath with disinfectant, and our clothes as well. I started to talk back to him, cause that disinfectant fades colors, and my shirt was a brand new print. He offered to rip my shirt into rags if I didn't obey him. He paid me for the shirt afterwards. He said that this was worse than Newcastle's disease.
     "I remember it all pretty well because we all bathed together. Terri was a bit embarrassed, but she scrubbed my back and washed my hair, and I did the same for her, so I didn't complain about that. Luke watched to make sure we were thorough. I made a joke about his being a voyeur. He didn't laugh about it. He just kept looking serious, like some drill instructor in boot camp. Then Terri did his back and hair.
     "While he was still wet, he went and washed down their cages. I don't see how he stood it. He was using the disinfectant at a pretty concentrated level. I smelled it when he opened the door leaving. It nearly choked me. I asked him then if it was really that serious. He said that he felt it was, that he was being sure and not taking any chances.
     "I don't know what tipped him off. You know Luke and birds. He just has a sense about them, you know. I never could figure out what he saw that told him these things. Maybe it was the way he just stood and looked at the birds. I used to tease him about communing telepathically with them. It was the way the birds always preferred him. They never wanted to leave his shoulder for someone else. Even today with Louie. Same thing."
     "Pete, stick to the events."
     "Okay. He came out coughing severely from the fumes. He had stayed in there and washed it down three times over before he came out. Then he went off and stayed with Greta and Roberto in isolation while I got on with my usual chores. I didn't see them until the next morning. Lori had a question about feed mix for the love birds. I wasn't sure, so I went to ask Luke. He hadn't gotten much sleep from the look of him.
     "He was sitting in his swim trunks, and I could smell the disinfectant on him. He was just looking at Greta. I could have sworn that he had been crying. He wasn't when I saw him, but you know how you can tell when someone's been crying. The look in his eyes, I guess. When I looked in on Greta, she looked simply awful. She had lost feathers, and not just from grooming. I mean she had lost some flight feathers, wing and tail, and it was nowhere near time for her to molt. She was still on her perch, but she was leaning against the cage for support.
     "There were wet footprints coming out of the airlock, so I knew that he had just been inside with her. Roberto was losing some feathers, but not nearly as badly as Greta. He was on his perch, and his head was bowed lower than when he slept. I could tell that they were both in serious trouble."
     "Pete, one thing I'd like to know. Before isolation, were they separated or in the same cage."
     "Separated. Roberto had eaten, but Greta hadn't. We wouldn't have known if they had been together."
     "Okay. Go on."
     "They had finally had stools. There was something about them that made me sick to my stomach. Bird stool is bird stool, but these were not usual. There were these streaks of this bluish-purple stuff, real nasty and greasy looking, and I saw some traces of blood. I remember looking at them and shivering and feeling nauseous. I asked Luke about the seed mix. He had to clear his head and think about it. He can usually answer without much thinking, but he had to think this time. I don't think he felt very good. I don't mean ill, but emotionally sick. I don't think he had eaten since we first spotted the problem, and that didn't help.
     "I couldn't stand to be there. I told Luke that I'd care for things while he sat with the two. He thanked me, and I got out of there before my stomach turned flips. I went back later, near noon, and things had gotten much worse. Their eyes were matted in this greenish-yellow stuff, and they were oozing this green pus under their wings. Lots of it. Luke said that it was ruptured lymph glands. They were both on the bottom of the cage. I don't see how they were still alive. They were sicker than I have ever seen any animal.
     "I could tell that they had been treated, since some of this had been wiped away and new secretions were oozing. Luke must have been in not long before. He had marks on his face where he'd worn a breathing filter, and there were three of them inside the isolation airlock. He was wet again and smelling of disinfectant. I offered to give him back the money for the shirt, but he told me to keep the money and get a new shirt. I never did buy another one. After that, I didn't want another one like it because of the memories that would be involved.
     "An hour later, he came to me and asked me to get ten gallons of kerosene, fifty pounds of granulated chlorine, and five gallons of machine oil. I drove to the chemical supply house and got it. I didn't know what he was going to do until the guy at the counter warned me about letting the oil get spilled on the chlorine. Then I knew what he was going to do.
     "When I got back, I asked him why he was going to burn the ward that way. He said that the spontaneous combustion didn't occur from the chlorine until after chlorine gas was released. It would disinfect the air inside before ignition. He took the chlorine and oil inside after soaking the outside of the ward with the kerosene. He poured out the chlorine granules all over the floor. He put on gloves, broke Greta's and Roberto's neck. He didn't do it right away. He just held them for a couple of minutes each, like he was saying good-bye and asking their forgiveness. He had his back to me, but I could sort of tell from the way he stood. I know he cried, cause I could see him shudder from the sobs. Then he use a sieve bucket with the trap door and the release in the handle that we use for spreading the liquid fertilizer in the orchard and vineyard. He filled the bucket with the oil, then spread it over the floor on top of the chlorine.
     "I thought that he was coming right out once he was in the airlock, but he took the time to rinse himself with disinfectant. I thought he was crazy for not leaving right away. The entire ward was filling with smoke, and I started shouting. Then he came out and ran behind the storage shed that was there. He barely made it before there was this loud crack inside the ward. Glass broke on the viewing windows and fire came pouring out. The kerosene caught right away, and in moments, the entire ward was burning like crazy.
     "Then Luke got up and went right to the showers and scrubbed himself thoroughly with more disinfectant. By this time, he had to have had the stuff coming out his pores, but he washed a second time after a rinse. Then he hosed down the stall with the disinfectant cleaner. I thought it was a bit much. He had tears streaming from his eyes, but he had a straight face. I couldn't tell if it was a chemical reaction or that he just refused to show how much it was hurting him inside. He went to his room and didn't come out until noon the next day. You arrived that evening. Between those times, he checked on every bird for eating habits and stools. He was very methodical. When the cages had just been cleaned, he questioned the person that cleaned them. Then you showed up and found out what had happened and exploded. You know the rest as well as I do, if not better."
     "In your opinion, did I misjudge him?" asked Cheryl.
     Pete did not respond in words, as if he were withholding his opinion.
     "I want an honest answer."
     "Yes. What I saw scared me. At the time it happened, I had pretty much grown used to New Chance being much like Earth. There are trees and grass and bugs and animals. They look a bit different, but I'd gotten over the difference. After seeing Greta and Roberto, I realized that there were differences that didn't meet the eye. I don't think that Luke has ever lost sight of the fact. I think he has always been aware that we're not native here. I think that is what motivated his action with the birds. He was scared from the word go, before any of the rest of us knew that there was something really wrong. I don't think you took that into account either when you laid into him. You never gave him a real chance to explain."
     "Thank you, Pete."
     "Can I add one more thing?"
     "Okay."
     "Luke has given me a new perspective on things. Before I came here, I was like most everybody else. I lived by my senses. Luke has taught me that there is more to living than by senses alone, or perhaps better put, we have more senses that those we credit. He has a way seeing balance, if that is the right word. He has an intuition that comes with a clear mind. He doesn't have to see to know, or at least he didn't. I'm no expert on it yet, but I'm learning some of what he did.
     "When I saw Luke today, when he brought back Louie, I saw something different in him. I saw a loss of contact. I don't know all the words for what I'm trying to say. There is a block there in him that wasn't there when he was here. Something's making him blind in a way he used not to be."
     "Any ideas as to what?"
     "I don't need to be a fortune teller for that. He hurts."
     "And you think that I could release him from this hurt?"
     "It would be a shame if you didn't at least try. He's too good a man and too needed on this world to cut him off. I hope you don't mind my saying this."
     "No, there is wisdom in your words. I guess I have been blind in many ways, and I didn't understand. I did blind Luke, now that I think about it. He wasn't able to see something he probably would have noticed earlier, now that I think about it. Thank you, Pete. I truly appreciate your honesty. It's about time I started looking past my own nose."
     "Is there something wrong?" asked Pete.
     "Like what?"
     "I don't know. The last couple of months, I've seen a change in you that scares me. And you just said something about a thing Luke didn't see."
     "You are perceptive. You grow wise, Pete."
     "I owe that to Luke. What is the problem?"
     "I'm dying. Slowly, but I'm losing life. I can feel it."
     "Then that is all the more reason to give Luke back his unhindered sight. If there is one man that can help you find a cure, it is him."
     "Do you think so?" she asked.
     "I wouldn't overlook the possibility. I've seen him cure birds that would have been given up for lost by others. A change of diet, a few minerals that make sense on this world, but not on Earth. He seems to understand this world better than anyone I've ever met."
     "Are you telling me to have hope in Luke?"
     "I wouldn't overlook the possibility. He loved you more than did any of the birds. I know that he wouldn't stop searching his abilities as long as you're still alive, if you were to free him to do so."

     Luke was sitting on the same park bench where Louie had found him, looking up at the clouds passing overhead.
     "What do you see up there?"
     He turned around to see Cheryl. "Hope for a new world, a world where birds fly free for many years to come."
     "Come home, Luke. I forgive you, I trust you, I love you." Tears came to her eyes as she strained to say the words. "I was a fool. I was blinded by my own desires, demanding that the world conform to me rather than my conforming my desires to this new world as you did. Please, come home. I need you in so many ways. Let me help you wipe away the pain and make you whole again. Please."
     Luke stood without words and wiped her tears with a handkerchief. She hugged him fiercely. She felt him return the hug with a growing hope and sense of relief. She hugged him all the harder.
     "You know, they say a bad penny has a way of findings its way back to you. This is one case where I am very grateful that it did."
     They walked hand in hand back to the compound, both afraid to speak, afraid that they might wake up in case this was a dream, but full of hope.

     Luke wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve, listening to the juvenile chatter of the parrots being loaded onto the cargo flier. He chattered back at them in kind. "Yet-yet-yet-yet. Yet-yet-yet-yet. Cut-me-some-slack. "
     "You say something?" asked Pete, sticking his head out the flier hatch.
     "Just bird talk. This younger generation, I swear. Eight weeks old and already bossy. Two weeks weaned and already mean."
     Pete smiled back and took the last cage from Luke. "And here I thought I heard you asking for some slack. That's certainly a novel image. Is this it?"
     "The last one. Need help arranging?"
     "Done as loaded. You don't think that I've been taking all this time being lazy, do you?"
     "Do you want a truly honest answer, or do you want to be praised and placated? Get that cage stowed."
     "Sure thing, big boss man." Pete disappeared into the flier and then returned a minute later. "All set. Tell the pilot he's free to clear the ground."
     "With you in the hatch?"
     "Complaining again?" Pete rolled his eyes.
     "More like wishful thinking."
     "Oh, cute, Luke, cute. And to think that I used to mourn your absence a couple years ago. Where are the good old days when you were in the good doctor's dog house? Such memories I now hold dear."
     "You mean when I was out of the yard and running loose?"
     "Whatever, back in the days when the doctor ran this project with dignity, back before she put you on your high horse."
     "So you regret my return."
     "How do I best phrase this for most impact?" asked Pete. "I didn't then need pain killers for my posterior. That turns the meaning rather well. Need I elucidate?"
     "Cheryl just couldn't ever kick as hard as I can."
     "Ain't that the truth?" sighed Pete.
     "Get out of that hatch before I split your pants with a well placed one. I don't know about you, but I am hungry."
     "Whatever for? I did all the loading."
     "Ha! I stood here and lifted every one of these heavy cages over my head, making sure that nothing that fell hit me."
     "Well, they certainly know what to aim at. I'll grant them that."
     "Keep it up, and I'll leave you here at the air field."
     "Is that a promise?"
     "No, it's a threat."
     The pilot stuck his head out the hatch. "Is there a problem?"
     Luke replied, "Yes, but it doesn't concern you. You are loaded and free to lift with air traffic's approval. Just make sure that you steer clear of turbulence, or your passengers will complain loudly. I'm talking first class bird riot. These young 'uns can be temperamental when disturbed."
     "Weather control shows smooth sailing the whole way."
     "Then get moving so that you arrive before dark. They don't like to be bothered at night. They get fussy and bite fingers on the cage."
     "On my way, as soon as your help departs."
     "I was hoping you'd take him with you, but that is probably too much to wish for. He's more trouble than the birds."
     Pete scooted down the ladder. "And you're more trouble than me."
     "Your opinion only."
     "Ha! I could fill a petition on that."
     The pilot waved them off in mock disgust, raising the ladder. He closed the hatch quickly.
     "Well, Pete, let's go get some lunch and a bath."
     "In reverse order, I hope."
     "Was that a hint?"
     "No, it was an accusation. You stink."
     "Smart mouth punk."
     "Old fogy."
     They got in the car, and Luke turned on the air conditioner. They had just about cooled down when they reached the compound, at least in physical aspects. The verbal sparring continued the entire way. They headed for the kitchen to see if lunch was about to be served, still yapping at each other. "Are you two at it again?" asked Davy.
     "No," responded Pete.
     "Thank heavens."
     "We haven't quit from the last time you saw us." responded Luke.
     "Oh, mercy. Luke, lay off him, will you?"
     "And let the little punk get a swelled ego?"
     "Or let me suffer a heart attack from the shock?" added Pete. "And to think I once stood up for this guy. Davy, how did you stand him those years out in the wild?"
     "He wasn't like this out there. He was the quiet type back then."
     "Yeah, he hasn't been the same ever since the day Dr. Morgan forgave him. I almost wish she hadn't taken him back. It must have been the advanced stages of the illness that made her give in."
     "Did I hear my ears burning?" came a voice from back in the kitchen. Cheryl came out with a batter covered spatula in her hand, looking ready to use it as a projectile at the next smart answer. "Whew, you two go take a bath. You two are absolutely repulsive."
     "How much time do we have to luxuriate without missing chow?" asked Luke, rubbing his stomach eagerly and smiling.
     "Twenty five minutes according to the recipe. I'm just about ready to put it in if you leave now."
     "And if we don't?"
     "Then it will take longer with me being all over your case instead of in the kitchen cooking. I will be glad when Beth gets back on her feet."
     "I'll take kitchen duty." offered Luke.
     "No you won't!" responded Davy and Cheryl together. She continued. "I've eaten your cooking. Never again."
     "Wound my pride, then."
     "I'll wound more than that if you don't scoot. You're spoiling my appetite with your aroma."
     "Think you're tough enough?" he quipped.
     "You want tough? Davy, the pan is greased and ready, the oven is hot. Pour it in and pop it in the oven."
     "Twenty five minutes?"
     "You got it. Don't wait up for Luke or me."
     "No?"
     "No. I'll still be hot on his heels if he can stay out of my reach that long." Cheryl ripped off the apron and took off after Luke who was running for the door, shouting back smart remarks. She chased him with threats and finally caught him in the shower. He surrendered with a kiss. She turned on the cold water and giggled as he danced away with a yelp.
     "You're getting too strong for me, woman. Six months ago, you'd have never caught me."
     "Serves you right for helping Bio find a cure for me. But I probably would have. You've always let me catch you."
     "Only because you're the right woman."
     "Oh, if only you were the right man."
     "I love it when you get sassy."
     "Oh, shut up and get under the water and lather. You smell like a malodorous parrot."
     "Hey, some of my best friends are malodorous parrots."
     "Good, then get one to shower with you."
     "You are enough of a wet bird already. I don't need another one."
     "Keep this up, and you will."
     "Do you want me to shut up?" he asked.
     "Please."
     "Only one way to do that."
     "Stick a bar of soap in your mouth?"
     "Two ways, then."
     "Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you."
     "How often?"
     "I'll tell you when you're clean."
     "Scrub my back?" he requested.
     "I'm wise to that. You do the rest first."
     "Spoil sport."
     "Stinky."
     Louie flew into the bathroom a few minutes later and perched on the top of the partition. "Party time. Party time. Give me a kiss."
     Luke looked up. "Louie, you're making your escapes too often these days. Go find Loretta. I'm sure she will give you a kiss, and she has such a cute beak. My girl is busy at the moment."
     "You don't say." Louie responded.
     "Luke, you are teaching that bird some mighty bad habits."
     "Storm warning, Louie."
     Louie turned and flew off, calling, "Party time. Party time."