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    The Strange Bird: A Borne Story
    The Strange Bird: A Borne Story
    The Strange Bird: A Borne Story
    Ebook101 pages1 hour

    The Strange Bird: A Borne Story

    By Jeff VanderMeer

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    About this ebook

    The Strange Bird—from New York Times bestselling novelist Jeff VanderMeer—is a novella-length digital original that expands and weaves deeply into the world of his “thorough marvel”* of a novel, Borne.

    The Strange Bird is a new kind of creature, built in a laboratory—she is part bird, part human, part many other things. But now the lab in which she was created is under siege and the scientists have turned on their animal creations. Flying through tunnels, dodging bullets, and changing her colors and patterning to avoid capture, the Strange Bird manages to escape.

    But she cannot just soar in peace above the earth. The sky itself is full of wildlife that rejects her as one of their own, and also full of technology—satellites and drones and other detritus of the human civilization below that has all but destroyed itself. And the farther she flies, the deeper she finds herself in the orbit of the Company, a collapsed biotech firm that has populated the world with experiments both failed and successful that have outlived the corporation itself: a pack of networked foxes, a giant predatory bear. But of the many creatures she encounters with whom she bears some kind of kinship, it is the humans—all of them now simply scrambling to survive—who are the most insidious, who still see her as simply something to possess, to capture, to trade, to exploit. Never to understand, never to welcome home.

    With The Strange Bird, Jeff VanderMeer has done more than add another layer, a new chapter, to his celebrated novel Borne. He has created a whole new perspective on the world inhabited by Rachel and Wick, the Magician, Mord, and Borne—a view from above, of course, but also a view from deep inside the mind of a new kind of creature who will fight and suffer and live for the tenuous future of this world.

    Praise for Borne

    *“Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach Trilogy was an ever-creeping map of the apocalypse; with Borne he continues his investigation into the malevolent grace of the world, and it's a thorough marvel.” —Colson Whitehead

    “VanderMeer is that rare novelist who turns to nonhumans not to make them approximate us as much as possible but to make such approximation impossible. All of this is magnified a hundredfold in Borne . . . Here is the story about biotech that VanderMeer wants to tell, a vision of the nonhuman not as one fixed thing, one fixed destiny, but as either peaceful or catastrophic, by our side or out on a rampage as our behavior dictates—for these are our children, born of us and now to be borne in whatever shape or mess we have created. This coming-of-age story signals that eco-fiction has come of age as well: wilder, more reckless and more breathtaking than previously thought, a wager and a promise that what emerges from the twenty-first century will be as good as any from the twentieth, or the nineteenth.” —Wai Chee Dimock, The New York Times Book Review

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMacmillan Publishers
    Release dateAug 1, 2017
    ISBN9780374714932
    The Strange Bird: A Borne Story
    Author

    Jeff VanderMeer

    Jeff VanderMeer is an award-winning novelist and editor. His fiction has been translated into twenty languages and has appeared in the Library of America's American Fantastic Tales and multiple year's best anthologies. He writes non-fiction for the Washington Post, the New York Times Book Review, the Los Angeles Times, and the Guardian, among others. His novels include the Ambergris series, and Annihilation. He grew up in the Fiji Islands and now lives in Tallahassee, Florida, with his wife.

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    • 4/5
      While each of the Borne books may be read as a stand-alone, this novella is best read after Borne to avoid spoilers. Otherwise, it, like the others, is a complete, independent story. Interestingly enough in light of the protagonist being an amalgamated creature, this story is a blending of the more poetic tone of Dead Astronauts while contain the more concrete story elements of the first of the series. It's a sad and sweet yet hopeful story set in the midst of absolute disaster.
    • 5/5
      Strange Bird is a short novel set in the world of Borne. It is a dispatch from that broken world. Strange Bird sits very comfortably on its own and could be read first in the Borne (series) (cycle) the three Borne books can be read in interchangeable order. The Strange Bird at the end of it all is a love story wrapped up in a tale of abused biotech trying to make sense of a world that it knows but does not know. It is about the process of self discovery and becoming something new while already being something else. Themes of change and transformation and love abound hardcore. This tale is so beautifully written. It is lyrical and poetic and just devastatingly beautiful to read a wholly original take on life that is thoroughly nonhuman but also is a person. Just totally stunning and a must read. Its all at once tragic and uplifting.
    • 4/5
      A companion piece to the author's novel "Borne", this novella describes the fate of a character met in "Borne" (although this does not become clear to the reader for quite a while). Strange Bird is a creature of the bioengineers the main characters battle in the novel, and her fate is, simply put, one of stomach-turning horror. There were a few moments I thought of putting the book down, but Strange Bird is such an interesting character I stayed with her. A few brief scenes from the novel are recognizable in passing, and this helps make some sense of the action. If you liked "Borne" I'd say read this too, but be prepared for some distress. If you haven't read "Borne", though, this story will make little sense, so give the novel a try first. Another supremely creative, though harrowing, plot from a master.

    Book preview

    The Strange Bird - Jeff VanderMeer

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    Table of Contents

    A Note About the Author

    Copyright Page

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    For Ann

    The Escape

    The Strange Bird’s first thought was of a sky over an ocean she had never seen, in a place far from the fire-washed laboratory from which she emerged, cage smashed open but her wings, miraculous, unbroken. For a long time the Strange Bird did not know what sky really was as she flew down underground corridors in the dark, evading figures that shot at one another, did not even know that she sought a way out. There was just a door in a ceiling that opened and a scrabbling and scrambling with something ratlike after her, and in the end, she escaped, rose from the smoking remnants below. And even then she did not know that the sky was blue or what the sun was, because she had flown out into the cool night air and all her wonder resided in the points of light that blazed through the darkness above. But then the joy of flying overtook her and she went higher and higher and higher, and she did not care who saw or what awaited her in the bliss of the free fall and the glide and the limitless expanse.

    Oh, for if this was life, then she had not yet been alive!

    *   *   *

    The sunrise that blazed out from the horizon across the desert, against a wall of searing blue, blinded her and in her surprise made the Strange Bird drop from her perch on an old dead tree to the sands below.

    For a time, the Strange Bird kept low to the ground, wings spread out, frightened of the sun. She could feel the heat of the sand, the itch of it, and sensed the lizards and snakes and worms and mice that lived down below. She made her way in fits and starts across the desert floor that had once been the bed of a vast sea, uncertain if she should rise for fear of being turned into an ember.

    Was it near or far? Was it a search light from the laboratory, trying to find her? And still the sun rose and still she was wary and the air rippled and scorpions rustled out and a lunging thing upon a distant dune caught a little creature that hopped not far enough away and the air smelled like cinders and salt.

    Am I in a dream? What would happen if I leapt up into the sky now? Should I?

    Even as under the burning of the sun her wings seemed to grow stronger, not weaker, and her trailing passage grew bold, less like a broken wing and more like a willful choice. The pattern of her wing against the sand like a message she was writing to herself. So she would remember. But remember what?

    The sound of the patter of paws kicking up sand threw the Strange Bird into a panic and she forgot her fear of the burning orb and flew off into the air, almost straight up, up, and up, and no injury came to her and the blue enveloped her and held her close. Circling back over her passage, against the wind, taxing the strength of her wings, she spotted the two foxes that had been sniffing her trail.

    They looked up at her and yipped and wagged their tails. But the Strange Bird wasn’t fooled. She dive-bombed them once, twice, for the fun of it, and watched them yelp and look up at her with an injured look in their eyes, even though behind it lay a cold gleam and ravenous smiles.

    Then she wheeled high again and, taking care not to look directly into the sun, headed southeast. To the west lay the laboratory where they had done such beautiful, such terrible things.

    Where was she headed, then?

    Always to the east, always veering south, for there was a compass in her head, an insistent compass, pushing her forward.

    What did she hope for?

    To find a purpose, and for kindness, which had not yet been shown to her.

    Where did she wish to come to rest?

    A place she could call home, a place that was safe. A place where there might be others of her kind.

    The Dark Wings

    The next day a vision of a city quavered and quivered on the horizon alongside the sun. The heat was so intense that the city would not stop moving through waves of light. It resembled hundreds of laboratories stacked atop and alongside each other, about to fall over and break open.

    With a shudder, the Strange Bird veered to the southwest, then east again, and in a little while the mighty city melted into bands and circles of darkness against the sand, and then it vanished. Had the sun destroyed it? Had it been a kind of ghost? The word ghost felt gritty in her head, something unfamiliar, but she knew it meant an end to things.

    Was the laboratory a ghost now? Not to her.

    On the seventh day after the intruders had dug their way up into the laboratory … on that day, the scientists, cut off from supplies, and under siege in the room that held the artificial island meant only for their creations, had begun to slaughter the animals they had created, for food.

    The Strange Bird had perched for safety on a hook near the ceiling and watched, knowing she might be next. The badger that stared up, wishing for wings. The goat. The monkey. She stared back at them and did not look away, because to look away was to be a coward and she was not cowardly. Because she must offer them some comfort, no matter how useless.

    Everything added to her and everything taken away had led to that moment and from her perch she had radiated love for every animal she could not help, with nothing left over for any human being.

    Not even in the parts of her that were human.

    *   *   *

    She encountered her first birds in the wild soon after she left the ghost city behind, before turning southeast again. Three large and dark that rode the slipstream far above her and, closer, a flock of tiny birds. She sang out her song to them, meant as friendly greeting, that recognized them as kin, that said although she did not know them, she loved them. But the little birds, with their dart-dots for eyes and the way they swarmed like a single living creature, rising up and falling down wavelike, or like a phantom shadow tumbling through the air, did not recognize her as kin. There was too much else inside her.

    They treated the Strange Bird as foe, with a great raspy chirping, the beat of wings mighty as one, and raked at her with their beaks. She dropped and rolled, bewildered, to get below them, but they followed, pecking and making of their dislike a vast orchestral sound, and she wore a coat of them, felt their oily mottled feathers scraping against hers.

    It was an unbearable sensation, and with a shriek the Strange Bird halted her dive and instead rose fast, tunneling up through a well of

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