Kill Decision(83)
“You were twelve, and you had a gun.”
“This was rural Pennsylvania. A .22 Ruger I stole from my foster father. Not the point. Every time I grabbed it, the raven would fly away. Or he’d put a tree trunk between him and me. He was smarter than I was.”
They ran for a few moments in silence. It was the most McKinney had ever gotten from him, and she didn’t want to interrupt.
Odin eventually continued. “I began to enjoy his company. He’d let out a warning whenever anyone else came near my camp. He started to lead me to carcasses in the woods. Deer that had been hit by cars. I realized he couldn’t penetrate their hides. That’s why he’d bring me—to cut them open for him. And that was our arrangement. I always shared with him after that. And he helped me survive.”
“A symbiotic relationship.”
“Not unusual for ravens. Back in school I learned all I could about them. Whenever I’d go back to those woods—even as a man—Huginn would recognize me. And later his mate, Muninn. They can remember individual humans for years. We’re special to them.”
“How so?”
They kept up a fast pace over the rocks. McKinney realized it was a good thing she was in excellent shape, because Odin was apparently used to covering ground fast.
“You familiar with the term encephalization, Professor?”
She nodded. “Sure. I’m a biologist. It’s the amount of brain mass exceeding what would be expected, given body mass. It directly correlates to intelligence. Humans and dolphins are the most encephalized species, for example.”
“And ravens.”
She frowned. “I didn’t know that about ravens.”
He glanced back. “Like I said, I wanted to learn everything I could about them. For instance, why do they need to be smart—why smarter than, say, an eagle?” He slid down a rock face and kept talking as they moved.
McKinney contemplated the question. “It’s true—brain tissue is metabolically expensive. So unless it’s needed, excess brains don’t appear in a species.”
“Right. So why does a raven need a large brain?”
It was intriguing. McKinney realized she had no ready answer. “Okay, why?”
“To manage relationships with dangerous creatures.”
McKinney considered this.
“Ravens thrive around human communities. That’s been going on for tens of thousands of years. In fact, there’s evidence they had a similar relationship with Neanderthal before we arrived on the scene.”
“So what are you saying—they actively seek us out?”
“They seek out top-of-the-food-chain predators—and put us to work for them.”
McKinney laughed. “I’d be interested in seeing the research.”
“Assuming we survive, I’ll be happy to show you.” He scrambled up an escarpment.
“How do ravens get us to work for them exactly?”
“They lead predators to prey. Wolf packs will follow a raven and let it eat from their kill. Ravens helped ancient people find game too, and still do for modern Inuit people. So what I experienced as a boy has been going on since ancient times. They’ve gone to war alongside man as well—to feast on the dead. The Vikings revered them and put them on their banners. In every human culture throughout history ravens held a special place. They’re mystical, mischievous, good or evil, but never just a bird. Ravens have observed us for so long they understand us. But one misjudgment interpreting our behavior, and they’ll likely not live to make another. Working with predators is a dangerous game.”
She nodded. “That’s why they need to be smart. And the cooperation helps both species survive.”
“Exactly.”
McKinney looked up to see silhouettes sailing against the moonlight, watching over them. “And do you think they’re really aware of this relationship?”
“I’m convinced of it. They can solve complex puzzles to reach food without direct experimentation. They use their large brain for conceptualizing reality; imagining scenarios and calculating likely outcomes. No other creature except man can do that.”
“I must say you surprise me, Sergeant.” McKinney caught his gaze reflected in moonlight. “So how does a man like you wind up as an elite commando?”
He considered the question. “I know your opinion of the military, Professor, but barring some unforeseen advance in human affairs, the implied threat of violence is the only thing holding civilization together.”
“That’s a pessimistic view.”
“Where do you think political power originates?”
“Legitimate political power is derived from the consent of the governed.”