The Temple of Duma Veil

“The Temple of Duma Veil” appears in Birdy #97, January 2022, with art by Ali Hoff. A pandemic story if ever there was.

When the mages finished, Haverna was a blazing ruin. It had been the greatest city on the continent, home to a million souls. In the bazaar, merchants had hawked everything from steel spearheads to aromatic spices, women in bright silk dresses walked with baskets full of fish and fruit, child beggars pulled at your tunic as you sampled chewy candies. It was a place to overwhelm the senses, full of riotous life and color.

Now it was an inferno, the flames hundreds of feet high, the smoke blacking out the sun. It was, we were told, the only option, and this was hard to argue, considering the trouble we had containing the infected.

The Dexter Fox

“The Dexter Fox” appears in Birdy #96, Nov. 2021, with art by Ali Hoff.

The fae were huge fans of cryptic verses. They passed them around like joints at a reggae show. Frankly he hated them. Why couldn’t they draw a decent map, or at least write some straightforward directions? Never once had he consulted a fae augur and had them say, Turn right at the big oak tree, walk six miles along the stream, and there you go.

JANG! SANG THE KANGAROO

“JANG! SANG THE KANGAROO” appears in Birdy #94, with art by Jonny Destefano. Naoko needs to find the blue monk Aobozu and rescue the boy he’s kidnapped. All that’s in the way is the bloodrot, the war between the Lords of Hell, and an Australian mind parasite:

JANG! JANG! JANG! RANG THE HAMMERS IN THE RAIN.

JANG! JANG! JANG! CLANGED THE LINKS OF BLOODY CHAIN.

JANG! BANGED THE BOOMERANG BOUNCING IN HER BRAIN.

JANG! SANG THE KANGAROO –

Her Lonely Work

“Her Lonely Work” appears September 2021 in Birdy #93, inspired by art by Jason White:

The Hive is doing its work and its workers are happy.

The three present hum together faintly as they turn on the paralyzer. The eyes of the human child in the bed flutter open as she wakes. This is an occasional side effect of the paralyzer, and while it is not desirable, it will not affect the subsequent procedures. He is likely to forget it by morning anyway. It does not occur to them to consider the utter terror he must be experiencing, though they will administer another sedative in a moment.

Fortunately the child has not worn a shirt to bed. This makes placing the torso mantle easy. As the probes pierce his flesh they simultaneously administer a healing agent; they will leave no scars, or minimal scars, tiny dots easily dismissed. A pneumatic syringe administers the sedative, and the boy’s eyes close again.

The Purp

“The Purp” appears in Birdy #92, Aug. 2021, with art by Dave Danzara. Prognostication is a drug.

The doomsayers crowded the corners but between them there was no agreement. NEW YORK WILL DROWN, read one sign. NUCLEAR WAR 10/21/35, said another. Still others mentioned plagues, droughts, assassinations, but no one took them seriously. Everyone knew the really successful prophets were behind paywalls.

Prism and Prison

“Prism and Prison” appears in Birdy #91, July 2021, with art by Hide Miyagawa. It’s fascinating how metaphors – which is to say, stories – can both offer new perspectives and lock us into just one. Ultimately all concepts fall short of reality, and the universe is always greater than our thoughts about it; but this is not to say it is something concrete, but rather is infinitely labile, wood turning to smoke, gasses condensing into planets.

Humans are not machines, she told herself. The brain is not a computer.”

Grandmother Releases Her Ward

“Grandmother Releases Her Ward” appears in Birdy #90, June 2021, with art by Graham Franciose.

He did not recognize his uncle at first. His hair was cut differently, and he wore pieces of mirrored glass, like abalone shells, in front of his eyes. The rest of his apparel was like nothing Naadkym had seen before: blue leggings, a checked red shirt, tough-looking boots. “Hey!” the teenager said finally.

The stranger turned. “Nephew,” he said, and that’s when it fell into place. “Uncle!” he yelled, and ran to greet him properly.

Examined more closely, he saw that Yehl had changed in less obvious ways also. He seemed … older, with new lines in his face. This was confirmed in an unexpected way when Yehl asked, “How long have I been gone?”

The young man was puzzled. “Six months, I think.”

Yehl shook his head, looking worn. “That’s what I thought. Grandmother’s spell really is powerful. To me, I’ve been gone three years. The whole village, then … ” His eyes went distant with calculation. “Two hundred years vanished, more or less.”

The Dream Machine

Here’s a Birdy story I wrote with the help of an AI. Basically, at key junctures in the narrative I would feed the preceding paragraph or two into https://app.inferkit.com/demo, a predictive neural network, and then incorporate the text it gave me into the story. Really I could have carried this much further (and perhaps still will), but I think the result is gloriously weird.

* Edit May 2024: This story aged kind of hilariously, given that the tech it used was already dated at the time it was written, and very shortly ChatGPT revolutionized AI text generators. I’ll have to consider how to best make use of the new tech…

The Dream Machine By Joel Tagert