Part 47 (1/2)
Menssana brought back, in particular the section on the bird we've nicknamed the spookie. What was in there wasn't much-mainly just a brief encounter we had with one near the s.h.i.+p's perimeter. What wasn't there was the strong suspicion I've had ever since then that the spookie is in some degree telepathic.”
The word seemed to hang like smoke in the air. Pyre flicked his eyes around the room: at Chrys, who looked troubled; Corwin, Gwen, and Joshua, whose faces appeared to register astonished skepticism; at Justin, whose expression was closed but... interested.
”All my evidence is subjective,” Jonny continued, ”but let me describe exactly what happened and see what you think.”
Carefully, almost as if giving evidence in court, he went on to tell of the spookie watching him from the low bushes; of its agitation when he called others over to see; of its deftly timed, deftly executed break for freedom; and of the mission's failure to locate any more of the species. When he finished there was a long silence.
”Anyone else come to this conclusion?” Gwen asked at last.
”Two or three others are wondering about it,” Jonny told her. ”Understandably, none of us put it in our official reports, but Chrys and I weren't imagining things out there.”
”Um. Doesn't have to be a complete, mind-reading telepathy, does it?” Gwen mused. ”With a spookie's brain capacity it shouldn't have the intelligence to handle input like that.”
”Dr. Hanford made a similar comment at the time,” Chrys said. ”We've talked about the possibility the spookies might form some kind of group mind, or that the sense boils down more to a feeling for danger than actual mind-reading.”
”I'd vote for the latter,” Corwin put in. ”A group mind, even if such a thing could exist, shouldn't worry too much about losing one of its cells. In fact, it might deliberately sacrifice a spookie or two to get a look at your weaponry in action.”
”Good point,” Jonny nodded. ”I lean toward the danger-recognition theory myself, though it requires a pretty fine scale to have timed things that well.”
”The fine-tuning, at least, could have been coincidental,” Corwin suggested.
”Or the whole thing could have been coincidence,” Joshua said hesitantly.
”Sorry, Dad, but I don't see anything here that can't be explained away.”
”Oh, I agree,” Jonny said without rancor. ”And if I hadn't been there I'd be treating it with the same healthy skepticism. As a matter of fact, I hope you're right. But one way or the other, we've got to pin this down, and we've got to pin it down fast.”
”Why?” Pyre asked. ”It seems to me Tacta's fauna is pretty far down the priority stack. What's the big rush for?”
Jonny opened his mouth-but it was Justin who spoke. ”Because the Council's about to make a decision on war with Qasama,” he said evenly, ”and the mojos are related to these spookies. Aren't they.”
Jonny nodded, and Pyre felt the blood draining out of his face. ”You mean to say we were fighting telepathic birds down there?”
”I don't know,” Jonny said. ”You were there. You tell me.”
Pyre licked his lips briefly, eyes s.h.i.+fting to Justin. The immediate shock was fading and he was able to think.... ”No,” he said after a minute. ”No, they weren't strictly telepathic. They never recognized that we were Cobras, for one thing-never reacted as if I was armed until I started shooting.”
”Did you ever see how they reacted to a conventional weapon, though?” Gwen asked.
Pyre nodded. ”Outside the s.h.i.+p, the first contact. The team had to leave their lasers in the airlock.”
”And Decker,” Joshua murmured.
”And Decker,” Pyre acknowledged, swallowing with the memory of York's sacrifice.
”In fact, I'd go so far as to say the mojos don't even sense the presence of danger, at least not the way you claim your spookie does. When I climbed up a building at the edge of Sollas that last night I surprised both a Qasaman sentry and his mojo. The bird should at least have been in the air if it felt me coming.” He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at Justin. ”You notice anything, one way or the other?”
The young Cobra shrugged. ”Only that the group mind thing goes out the window with at least the mojos-none of them learned anything about us no matter how many of their friends we slaughtered.” He paused, and a haze of emotional pain seemed to settle over his face. ”And... there may be one other thing.”
The others sensed it as well, and a silence rich in sympathy descended on the room. It took Justin a couple of tries to get started, but when he finally spoke his voice was steady and flat with suppressed emotion. ”You've all read my report, I expect. You know I-well, I panicked while I was being taken underground in Purma. I killed all the mojos and some of the Qasamans in the elevator, and a few minutes later I killed another group in the hallway upstairs. What... what some of you don't know is that I didn't just panic. I literally lost my head when each set of mojos attacked. I don't even remember fighting them off, just sort of coming to with them dead around me.”