Part 56 (1/2)

”Except that we've demonstrated we can kill them if they try either,” Hanford said thoughtfully. ”Remember the spookies on Tacta? If the mojos have a similar sense for relative danger they may recognize that their best bet really is to sit and wait.”

There was a long moment of silence as the others digested that. ”I suppose it's reasonably self-consistent, as theories go,” one of the zoologists said at last.

”Hard to see how a system like that would get started, though. Not to mention how you'd prove it.”

”Given a telepathic ability, it seems pretty straightforward to me,” Banyon said. ”The mojos need some predator strong enough to take on a bololin in order to get access to their embryo-hosts. Maybe the mojo acts as long-range spotter for the krisjaw in return or something.”

”Though with the mojo's control the relations.h.i.+p doesn't have to be particularly mutual,” Hanford murmured. ”The birds may be out-and-out parasites.”

”Yeah,” Banyon said. ”And as for proving it... Dale, target the mojo nearest you, all right? Head shot; fast and clean, without affecting the krisjaw directly.”

”Okay,” the voice came in his ear. ”Ready.”

Banyon targeted the appropriate krisjaw and eased his weight onto his right leg.

If this worked he wanted his antiarmor laser ready to fire. ”Okay: now.”

A flicker of light from beside and behind the krisjaw caught the mojo-and an instant later the krisjaw screamed and charged. Banyon leaned back as he activated the automatic fire control, his leg swinging up to fire point blank at the creature's face. There was a blaze of reflected light, and the krisjaw's fur blackened as the laser flash-burned it. The animal slammed heavily to the ground-

And Banyon looked up just in time to see the remaining krisjaw's mojo streaking for his face.

The landscape tilted crazily as his nanocomputer threw him out of the way of the bird's attack-but not before he saw the the krisjaw, too, was in motion. He hit the ground, rolling awkwardly on his left shoulder as someone screamed... and he came up into a crouch to see the krisjaw spring toward Hanford.

Banyon snapped his hands up in a fast dual shot at the predator, but what saved the zoologist's life in that first half second was his own reflexive shot with his flash net gun. The krisjaw hit, slamming Hanford to the ground, but with claws and teeth temporarily blocked by the netting it could do little except gouge at its victim. Banyon scrambled to get his legs clear of the undergrowth... but before he could bring his antiarmor laser to bear two brilliant spears of light lit up the forest and the krisjaw collapsed in a charred heap.

Banyon got to his feet, looking quickly around. The mojo was still unaccounted for...

But not for long. The bird was perched atop one of the other zoologist's crossed forearms, wings beating at the man's head and shoulders as it tried to work its beak in to the face.

Banyon was on it in a second, grabbing its neck with both hands and squeezing.

The mojo released its grip, fluttering wildly as it tried to get at its new attacker. But Banyon's grip had Cobra servos behind it... and within a few seconds the bird lay limp in his hands. ”You okay?” he asked the zoologist, wincing at the blood oozing through the other's sleeves.

”Arms and head hurt like crazy,” the other grunted, lowering his guard hesitantly. ”Otherwise... okay, I think.”

His face, at least, was unmarked. ”We'll get you right back to the aircar,”

Banyon told him, turning back to Hanford. The other Cobras had the krisjaw carca.s.s off him now, and Dale was kneeling beside him. ”How is he?” Banyon asked.

”Might have a cracked rib or two,” Dale said, getting to his feet. ”Not a good idea to carry him far; I'll go bring the aircar here.”

Banyon nodded and knelt beside Hanford as Dale set off at a fast trot. ”How are you feeling?” he asked.

”Scientifically vindicated,” Hanford murmured, managing a weak smile. ”We've now proved that mojos in the wild serve the same role they do for the Qasamans. They help the krisjaws fight.”

”And apparently help decide when fighting's the best approach,” Banyon nodded.

”As opposed to simply getting out of the way?”

Banyon looked up to meet the angry glare of the team's uninjured zoologist. ”I wasn't running out on you,” he said quietly.