Freedom is Justice

“Wren, we finally made it.”

In front of them sat Earth, nestled like a sleeping baby in the arms of the Milky Way galaxy. Innocent and unpredictable, it made you want to reach out and cradle it to keep it comfortable. Despite its historical abuse, it still looked glorious – radiant, even. It was the Milky Way’s most precious possession.

He reached over and touched her arm, but she didn’t move. Her gaze was fixed outside of the ship. Long and thick, her black hair poured out from the feathers on her forehead, framing her face. Her auburn eyes reflected in the window. They were hardened, lifeless, and it made his chest ache.

Travelling to Earth from the planet Avia was exceptionally long. They had to go through four galaxies to get here, and there was always a risk of interference. They almost got caught when they travelled through Virgo Stellar Stream. The Stellarians there were absolutely mental. At least in his opinion. Way too protective of their territory. Luckily, they had designed their ship well enough to pass through undetected. The risk was worth it for Avians; it gave them the chance to study Earth.

“Let’s head back to the change station,” Wren instructed.

He followed her through the passageways of the ship, stopping at the final room before the hatch. They had to wear protective gear when they left the safety of the ship. The suits offered protection which allowed them to collect samples without rotting into a pile of flesh. It wouldn’t happen instantaneously, of course, but even a small amount of exposure would have a lasting impact. As Avians, they were sensitive to Earth's atmosphere. They were used to living on Avia, which was known for being the cleanest planet.

“Here.” Wren handed him his head covering, and he put it on, sliding it gently over his white crown feathers and sharp jawline. It fit like a glove. Wren did the same, and they dressed in silence. There were no windows in the change station, but they could feel the ship enter Earth’s gravitational field, pulling them down towards its volatile crust. The vessel needed no pilot; its course was programmed before they even left. When they landed, they waited for the all-clear from the ship’s navigation system.

“Wren and Polly, you have arrived. You have landed on the area of Lypsis, previously known as Australia. You may exit the ship.”

Grabbing their exploratory packs, they headed out through the hatch. The sky was blinding. There would be no mercy from the sun. After humans destroyed Earth’s atmosphere, it reset itself to a more balanced state. However, nature here never did fully recover. The ecosystem was severely compromised, and the weather on Earth was too extreme for long-term civilization. Wren and Polly came during the winter solstice, and it was still 55 degrees Celsius here in Lypsis.

They spent the next eight solar rounds (Earth days) scouring the land, collecting samples of the soil and any flora that could survive the heat. It wasn’t until the eighth day that everything changed.

Tired from a day of work, Polly made his way back to the ship’s hatch. The wind had been particularly cruel that day, and he felt as though he spent the entire scour walking uphill. Walking was especially tiring for them. On Avia, their abilities allowed them to fly everywhere, which was much less work. Sluggish, he sat down by the hatch to wait for Wren. He lifted his arm to shake out the dust making a home under his wings. He wasn’t even sure how it got in through his safety suit, but it was itchy. “Get out,” he mumbled, as if it would listen. It was then when he noticed something gold poking out of the ground by his feet. He reached over, and as he pulled it out, its shape took form.

“WREN!” he screamed out, as much as he could with the wind blowing at his neck. Despite his head covering, the wind still had a way of cutting off his voice with the sharpness of a knife. “WREN!” he tried again.

A moment later, Wren came into view from over the hill. Somehow, she looked both excited and annoyed. As she got closer, he stood up to meet her. Excitement vibrating through his body, he felt a sudden surge of energy.

“Look what I found,” he held up the artifact for her to see. Her eyes widened, and she smiled. He hadn’t seen her smile in ages.

Without taking her eyes off the artifact, she said, “let’s get it inside for examination.”

They hurried inside, and once their safety suits were off (and he had effectively shaken out all of the unwelcome dust making a home under his wings), they made their way to the lab. With proper gloves on, they laid the gold jewelry under the artifact scanner.

“All clear.” The system announced. It was safe to explore.

He watched her as she cradled it, “it’s a necklace, a locket to be exact,” she said, her eyes glistening.

Carefully, she used a tool to open its heart-shaped exterior. Inside was an old worn-out photo, cut into the shape of a heart. The picture was still intact and featured two people standing side by side, held together by a warm embrace. They stood at the top of a canyon, smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

Wren turned to face him, magic in her eyes, “Polly, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

He bent down closer to get a better look. There was something about the people in the photograph. He couldn’t quite place it. Was it the way their hair fell? Or was it the look in their eyes?

The people looked…familiar. Suddenly, he felt incredibly nauseous.

Wren didn’t take her eyes off of him. “Why do they look like us, but in human form?”

He sighed, trying to keep his breathing steady. “I don’t know.”

Wren pulled the picture out from the locket’s shell and turned it over.

Jada & Adam, 2018

“Let’s go to the library,” her voice stern.

He followed her to the library in a daze. What did he just see? The resemblance between them and the people in the picture was uncanny, despite being from entirely different planets (and different species, for that matter).

Wren was focused. By the time he could gather himself enough to even skim through one book, she had already looked through twenty-five.

"Come here,” she ordered, and he listened.

“Look at this,” her long webbed finger pointed to a paragraph at the bottom of the page.

Before humans left Earth, a project called “The Flight School Initiative” was created by the Australian, American, and British governments. It involved using interracial couples as subjects for interplanetary transplantation. Couples were brought to a test centre where their DNA was changed and re-planted into their body. Subjects grew webbed toes and fingers, as well as feathers in certain locations of their body. Particularly on their hands, feet, and forehead. However, there were also cases where feathers were found on their backs and shoulders. Before the project was fully developed, a catastrophic hurricane hit, destroying 67% of human life on Earth. Afterwards, many evacuated Earth, setting sights for distant planets. It is believed that the project was wiped out during the hurricane, along with all members involved.

“Where did you even get this book?” he asked, shocked.

“It was gifted to me by a good friend and teacher back on Avia. I’ve had it for ages, but I’ve never read it.”

When Polly looked up from the page, Wren was staring at it like she was putting together a puzzle, the picture slowly coming into focus.

“You don’t think?” he asked, terrified of her answer.

“I do.”

She looked up at him, her eyes melting like chocolate in the sun. She looked more alive than she had in ages. They sat on the floor, staring at each other. Polly felt like someone had cut off his head, and he was looking at his body from the floor as it rolled away. Everything felt surreal, as if he were experiencing his last moments of life from a beheaded view. As if to be halfway between dimensions.

Could it be possible? That they were the humans in the photo? The only memories that existed in his mind were of him and Wren as adults. They were told that they lost their memory of their Avian childhood after a radioactive bomb went off on an exploratory trip to Earth. He never questioned it. Sitting in silence, the truth sank in like a strong whiskey.

“What should we do, Polly?” Wren asked.

He knew that his answer was worthless. She already had a plan. He had loved her for long enough to know this much.

“You tell me.”

Her lips curled upwards. She smiled like she couldn’t stop herself, like she didn't want to.

***

Sleepless, they stayed up all night, doing whatever they wanted. For the first time in their lives (that they could remember), they were free. They were wild. They were restless. Stretching their wings above their heads, they danced and sang. They unpackaged all of the food onboard, threw it against the walls, and laughed uncontrollably like they were two children conducting a prank. When some of it got caught in Wren’s crown feathers, he pulled it out slowly and carefully. And they made love for the first time in a long time. Wren looked as though she had been resurrected, and he felt it too. Passion poured out of him like hot lava, as if his sole purpose had always been to love and be loved.

He reprogrammed the navigation slightly in the morning, enough for them to get away with their plan. And when it came time to leave, they stepped out of the hatch onto the surface of the Earth, safety suits left on the floor behind. Polly felt the sand between his webbed toes and smiled as he watched Wren do the same.

It was early, so the sand was cool enough to lay on. They stared up the sky. The brink of dawn made it look like it still had secrets. Finally, after some time, their ship exited the atmosphere.

He sighed and looked over at Wren. Her eyes were closed, her energy peaceful. He pulled the locket from his pocket and strung it around her neck. Her eyes opened slightly, enough to glance over and give him a look of fondness. He thought back to the lifeless eyes he loved before the locket and the ache that accompanied them. As he laid back, he saw them disappear along with their ship.

It was only a matter of time now until they died. The air too thick, the heat too cruel, and no suitable vegetation to eat. But for the first time, they felt at home. They felt happy. They felt free.

And freedom, of any kind, was always an act of justice.