Part 25 (1/2)

His first thought was disbelief that neither his enhanced vision nor hearing had detected its approach; but hard on the heels of that came the realization that the bird had probably been sitting there quietly for as long as Jonny had been standing there, its protective coloring and motionlessness serving to hide it.

”You're in luck,” Jonny murmured in its direction. ”I'm not in charge of collecting fauna samples.”

A footstep behind him made him turn. It was Chrys, a vaguely sour look on her face. ”Feel like being a politician again?” she asked without preamble.

Jonny flicked a look past her at the bustling activity in the protected area between them and the s.h.i.+p. ”What's up?” he asked, focusing on her again.

She waved a hand in disgust. ”The same fight they've been having since we hot-tailed it off Junca. The scientists want to take the time we didn't use there to go back for an additional look at Kubha or Fuson.”

”And Shepherd wants to just drop the two days we saved out of the schedule and head back home as soon as we're done here,” Jonny finished for her with an exasperated sigh. He was roundly sick of the whole issue, especially when

Shepherd's first refusal should have settled things long ago. ”So what do you want me to do?”

”I don't want you to do anything,” she returned. ”But Rey seems to think you might be able to inject a few well-chosen words into the debate.”

Put another way, Banyon wanted him to thunder the scientists back into their labs. Jonny had no doubts which side of the issue the Cobras supported-having been saddled with both the defense of the expedition and its hardest work, they were quite ready to head home as soon as possible. The four who were still in sickbay with injuries from the mad scramble off Junca probably held triple batches of that opinion.

And it would certainly be the easiest way to settle the debate. Jonny Moreau the

Cobra, Governor Emeritus, had more physical and legal authority than anyone else aboard, including Shepherd himself. He was opening his mouth to give in when he took a good look at Chrys's expression.

It was angry. She was trying to hide the emotion, but Jonny knew her too well to be fooled. The tension lines around her eyes, the slight pinch to her mouth, the tight muscles in cheeks and neck-anger, for sure. Anger and a smattering of frustration.

It was the same expression he'd seen on her far too often these past few years.

And with that sudden connection came the truly proper response to the Menssana's intramural squabbles. ”Well, Key and the others can just forget it,” he told her. ”If Shepherd's too polite to chew the scientists' ears off he can just put up with their yammering. I'm on vacation out here.”

Chrys's eyes widened momentarily; but even as a faint smile flickered across her lips the tension was leaving her face and body. ”I'll quote you exactly,” he said.

”Do that. But first take a look here,” he added as she started to turn back toward the encampment. ”It looks like we're starting to attract the local sightseers.”

The bird was indeed still sitting quietly on its branch. ”Odd,” Chrys said, studying it through a pair of folding binoculars. ”That beak looks more suited to a predator than to a seed or insect eater. The feet, too.”

Jonny b.u.mped his optical enhancers up a notch. They did rather look like condorine talons, now that she mentioned it. ”What's odd about it? We've catalogued birds and rodentoids here small enough for it to prey on.”

”I know... but why is it just sitting there? Why isn't it out hunting or something?”

Jonny frowned. Sitting motionlessly amid the low bushes... as if afraid of losing what little cover its position provided. ”Maybe it's hurt,” he suggested slowly. ”Or hiding from a larger predator.”

They looked at each other, and he saw in her eyes that she was following the same train of logic and reaching the same conclusion. And liking it no better than he did. ”Like... us?” she eventually voiced the common thought.

”I don't see anything else it could be afraid of,” he admitted, giving the sky a quick sweep.

”A ground animal-? No. Anything the size of a cat could get it in those low bushes.” Chrys's eyes s.h.i.+fted to the bird. ”But... how could it know-?”

”It's intelligent.” Jonny didn't realize until he'd said the words just how strongly he was starting to believe them. ”It recognizes we're tool-makers and aliens and is being properly cautious. Or is waiting for us to communicate.”

”How?”

”Well... maybe I should go over to it.”