Losing

A/N: on a planet far, far away...

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“Found any new creatures, lately?”

The conversation was flagging after only five minutes but I knew asking about alien fauna was the way to get my brother talking.

“Oh, yeah!  There’s this one – we call it the Cinderella Bird.  I wrote to Mum about it.  Didn’t she tell you?”

“Last time I spoke to Mum, all I got was Dad’s latest diagnosis.”

“Yeah.  Do you think it’s really serious this time?  I mean – do I need to book some leave?  It’ll take three weeks to get back to Earth from here; I need to prepare...”

I nodded sympathetically.  Being stationed on Mars meant I could get home at almost a moment’s notice.  Fred needed some advanced notice.

“Let’s see how he takes to the new treatment but maybe you could book a holiday anyway?  I mean, when did you last have some time off?  Come and see us while Dad’s alive, not because he’s...”

“...dying...”

“Exactly!  I’ll let you think about it, anyway.  But tell me about your Cinderella Bird.  Does it drive around in a pumpkin?”

He laughed, the familiar free-hearted chuckle taking me right back to childhood when life was just a game for us to play.  Before it got to be serious.

“No, no pumpkins.  It has these ridiculously long legs that trail underneath it when it flies, and it never gets much height when it does fly.  You’d almost believe it was inviting predators to grab hold of it.  And it has a lot of predators.  I mean, just about every other creature in the area wants to eat it.

“So, it goes flapping about, barely off the ground and these legs...” he broke off into more laughter.  “Look, here...” and he brought a still image up onto the screen.

The creature in the picture did not immediately fit my internal image of a ‘bird’.  It seemed to have fur rather than feathers that also covered the upper part of its legs, and its mouth was formed of hard, scaly lips instead of what I thought of as a beak.  However, it undeniably had wings and was definitely flying in the picture.  As my brother had said, its feet trailed underneath it and I now noticed another creature in the undergrowth just ahead opening its own mouth ready to grab hold.

“Do you see the Grass Lion?” asked my brother.

“You mean the other creature in the picture?”

“Yeah.  Grass Lions are very partial to Cinderella Birds,” he grinned.  “So, let me show you another picture...”

The next image showed the Grass Lion on its back legs, its jaws fastened around one of the Cinderella Bird’s ridiculous feet.

“Predictable, isn’t it?  Long legs, trailing feet, predator grabs hold.”

I nodded.  “Looks like it’s got itself a good meal.”

“Right!  That’s what we thought when we first saw this behaviour.  Oh, but back then we were calling the birds ‘Flying Bears’ because...  Well, you can see why!  We weren’t even sure they were birds, back then.  But we’ve examined the skeleton, definite ‘bird hips’, and they lay these eggs...”

“All this is fascinating but I’m an engineer, not a zoologist.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  You can dig a well with your bare hands and create an overnight shelter from three sticks and a roll of duct tape!”

We both laughed at this filial banter.

“When did we last laugh like that?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

I shrugged.  “Before Dad got sick, I guess.  But tell me about your Cinderella Bird.  I only have a few minutes left before the satellite moves out of position and I can’t wait another week!”

“Sorry, sorry!  Well, it’s easier to show you...”

He pulled up another image and it took me a moment to realise what I was seeing.  The Cinderella Bird appeared to have escaped the Grass Lion because it was still in the air, its legs still stretched out behind it.  But the Grass Lion was not in pursuit, nor did it seem injured, as I imagined it would be if the Cinderella Bird had fought its way out of its jaws.  In fact, it was happily gnawing at something on the ground.

I looked again at the bird and understood.  “It's lost a foot...”