““Good afternoon, Gunnery Sargent." “Any ideas…?” Dr. Sloan turned slowly and stared up at Torren through narrowed eyes. “About what?” “I’m sorry had you not noticed the birds?” “Oh, ha!” Arms folded she resumed staring to the west. “I’m not doing anything. They just keep coming back.” “Maybe your jacket is…” “…Is what? Stuffed with bird seed? Emitting matting coos on a frequency only these birds can hear? Looks like their big blue mother? You’re so good at getting various and varying species to do what say, you tell them to shoo.” “Shoo?” “Fine, pick a tougher word.” No longer trying to hide her smile, Torren leaned slightly forwards and said, “Scram.” The birds took off almost as one bird, their wings chopping at the air.””
