The world Ori emerged into was inviting: green and blue, warm, with a mild sun, and surprisingly devoid of killer birds. Ori flew over mountains and valleys and forests, drinking in the sights.

A river looked inviting. It turned out to be teeming with fish and visited by all manner of wildlife: birds, deer, even rabbits. Ori sat down and enjoyed the view for awhile.

Ori noticed the huge flocks of birds. Ori noticed the conspicuous lack of threatening megafauna. Ori noticed the beauty and calm and magnificently-ordered perfection of the ecosystem. Ori sent mental thank-you notes to Prajapati for a job well done.

What came back was a dry chuckle.

You're putting it off, aren't you?

'Putting what off?'

You know what I mean. Going to see what Ardi's descendants are like. You're afraid of getting hurt again.

Ori sighed, deeply. 'Yes, I am. But you're right, I should go.' And Ori took flight, following the valley where the river flowed, upstream, until something appeared that looked like it might be where some primates lived.

Ori looked down in amazement. The houses were a far cry from Ardi's tree-branch nest. These were complicated structures of mud and sticks and woven straw. They were grouped in a clearing around the remains of a campfire. In other words, these primates had technology. At least, Ori assumed they had figured out how to start fires – there was smoke curling up from a hole in the middle of one of the houses.

Come to think of it, mused Ori, how DO you start a fire? I mean, I could, by thinking about it, if I concentrated. But how does a primate start one?

In Ori's head, Prajapati answered, You have to understand causation. It's…a step.

Ori landed, folding wings, and decided against disturbing the inhabitants of the house with the smoke. This was because Ori heard light voices, childish giggles, and babies crying. Ori had experience with mothers and didn't wish to startle them.

Wonder where the rest of them are? Maybe out looking for food? That's what I'd do on a nice day. Let's follow the path through the woods and see if they've found some berry bushes or something.

An initial search yielded plenty of fruit trees – Ori grabbed a juicy snack – but no primates. Angels can be silent, and Ori made no noise while weaving a path through the trees to the next clearing. Somebody was making noise, though: Ori heard whistling.

It wasn't birds.

The whistles had patterns, tunes, almost. No, not like the 'Wholly Satisfactory' song. A more urgent message.

Ori could understand any language. And this was a language!

The whistles said, Go over there. I'm over here. Circle back, surround him.

Whatever the primates were doing appeared to require stealth. Why are they sneaking around? Maybe I should be quiet, too. Ori approached the clearing cautiously and hid behind thick greenery before peering out.

What Ori saw was astonishing. In the clearing was a large, four-footed animal, about as high in the shoulder as Ori's head. It was pawing the ground with sharp hooves and shaking its powerful head with its branched antlers. The animal was distressed and angry.

Ori could see why: several ropes were looped around the animal's neck. The ropes extended to the edge of the small clearing. And as Ori watched, primates emerged from hiding, holding the ropes taut. Their faces bore looks of determination mingled with fear – their bare faces, Ori noted, bare like Ori's, not hairy like Ardi's. Still holding the ropes taut as they reeled them in, the primates advanced on the animal.

The creature tried to rear in order to strike at its tormentors but was held down by the ropes. It shook its head, lunging in the direction of the nearest primate, who backed away. The others took up the slack. They whistled instructions to one another as they immobilised the animal.

Ori watched in wonder at this madness.

When the primates were at a distance where the lunging beast still couldn't reach them, but wasn't able to move or run away, the first primate struck – thrusting a long stick with a sharp end into the side of the captive animal. The creature bellowed in pain. The other primates followed suit, plunging their spears again and again into the animal's body – until it fell to its knees, roaring in pain and bleeding profusely.

Ori groaned inwardly along with the creature. Tears ran down Ori's face in sympathy as it fell, its sides heaving as it gasped its last breath.

Ori was completely unprepared for the shout of victory that went up from the primates.

They yelled. They pranced. They danced around the corpse. They reached handfuls of the creature's blood and smeared one another's faces with it. They spoke words in a language Ori had never heard before but now instantly understood, just as Ori had understood the whistlespeak. 'We are the best hunters! Good work, men! We will feast tonight!'

Ori suddenly grasped the purpose of this slaughter.

Prajapati! They intend to eat this animal, he thought. They've become predators, like the terror birds.

At least they can't fly, replied Prajapati.

Back at the village, there was the making of a big fire in the open space. The dead ruminant was skinned and dressed for roasting. The hide was carried off by the women. Ori noticed that these primates had very little fur – in fact, they were nearly hairless, like Ori. They had taken to wearing pieces of animal skin and fur, to keep warm, Ori guessed. That meant they had killed a lot of animals, large and small.

The primates roasted the big animal over the fire. Some prepared other dishes: tubers they buried in the ashes, vegetables in clay pots over smaller fires, fruits and nuts they ate raw. It was, indeed, a feast. As darkness came and stars came out, there was eating and laughter. Women fed children. Men vied for the biggest pieces of meat.

Ori felt sick. Ori watched them from concealment and also felt lonely. Missing Ardi and her tribe was like a dull ache deep inside.

As the fires settled down to glowing coals, the men, contented, began to reminisce. They told stories of their hunting adventures. They boasted and praised the most skilled hunters. They exaggerated dangers and what they had done to overcome them.

Go and talk to them, said Prajapati. Ori sighed.

Stepping into the firelight, Ori spoke gently in their language in greeting. 'Hello…' Ori began.

The entire group let out a horrified gasp.

There was shouting.

There was screaming.

There were wails of terror.

Ori had never heard anything like it. 'Don't be afraid!' Ori began again but could scarcely be heard above all the terrified noise. Several of the men grabbed up spears and hurled them in Ori's direction.

Ori caught two of the spears, one in each hand, and threw them to the ground. One of the men, braver than the others, charged at Ori, a flensing knife in his hand.

Ori stepped to one side and in exasperation raised both hands, releasing bright shafts of light and at the same time spreading wings as if to ward off a terror bird.

The entire group fell to their knees – except for the babies, who cried. One cried especially loud because its mother had dropped it.

'Now, listen…' Ori said. 'I'm not going to hurt you…'

'It speaks!' the primates said to each other. 'It knows our language! It must be a powerful being from another world! Look, it has wings!'

'What does it want?'

'It probably wants to kill us! I mean, we want to kill it…'

'Stop throwing spears, you fool! It's too powerful!'

'Offer it something so it will go away! Here! Give it a piece of meat!'

To Ori's utter horror, this suggestion was followed up on instantly. Two men grabbed a slab of wood, stuck a disgusting, steaming haunch of roast venison on it, and approached Ori with a solemnity which would have been comical if it had happened in The Penthouse. Laying the 'offering' before Ori's feet, the two men backed away, their every movement bespeaking extreme caution and a fear that they might at any moment be utterly obliterated by this fearsome apparition.

Oh, brother, thought Ori. I give up.

Ori was the mildest-mannered of creatures, but this was too much. Throwing the makeshift platter, meat and all, into the nearest fire, Ori flew off into the darkness.

Not fast enough, however, to avoid hearing the sighs of relief from the primates – along with an alarming comment.

'See? The Otherworldly One has accepted our sacrifice!'

Ori spent the rest of the night in the highest tree around, too disgusted even to discuss the situation with Prajapati.

He didn't like this new kind of primate very much at all.

Dmitri Gheorgheni