MacArthur looked at the bloodshot eyes staring out from her scarred and blackened face. He stroked her tangled, singed hair. "We better worry about one problem at a time. That shoulder's going to make it hard for you, if we have to climb down the back side."
"Don't worry about me . . . Corporal."
MacArthur smiled, but the smile evaporated with the realization the mortar fire had not just paused—it had ceased. He jumped to his feet and peeked above the rocks. "Sandy! Terry! Anything happening on your side?" he shouted.
"All clear here!" Tatum shouted. "The bugs are still butts up in the rocks."
"Look!" Buccari shouted, clambering up to join him. "The drone!"
* * *
"Colonel!" the subordinate shouted. "The drone! Birds are attacking."
"Not birds," Longo snarled. He scanned the skies with binoculars. "Birds do not carry weapons. Command the drone back to us and lower its altitude. Order the soldiers to blast those creatures!"
Longo watched anxiously as the mountain flyer closed inexorably on the descending machine. He could not afford to lose his last drone.
"Make it go faster!" Longo shouted. "Faster!"
"It is already at maximum speed, Colonel," said the subordinate. Both officers watched the drone technician anxiously, praying for the soldier to perform a miracle.
* * *
Ironically, if only the bear people had made the drone climb, the hunter would have been frustrated. As long as they continued to lower the machine's altitude it was possible for Braan to continue pursuit. The hunter dove at the noisy craft, closing on his objective, planning his tactics. Gaining speed by pulling in his wings, the hunter accelerated and swooped below the helicopter, passing it by. Braan curved his membranes and started an arcing movement, giving him an upward ballistic trajectory. Pulling in his wings, the creature carved a graceful, parabolic path, all the while spinning his body to face the approaching drone. With gravity killing his vertical momentum, Braan pulled the pistol from the holster and, holding it with both clawed hands at arms length, sighted down the barrel at the onrushing machine.
Braan, the-leader-of hunters, fired one shot at point blank range before the drone crashed into his body.
* * *
"It hit him!" MacArthur shouted, binoculars pressed to his eyes. The drone halted in midair, pieces of metal peeling away, theplane of its rotor blades tilting. Captain's limp form was dashed aside, tumbling from the skies. MacArthur focused on the falling creature, but he could still see the drone veering crazily. The drone wobbled, seeking to stabilize itself, but then it rolled in a jerking spiral over onto its back. MacArthur thought the spinning blades would strike the hunter, but Captain had fallen clear.
"Come on, Captain! Fly!" MacArthur exhorted. "Come on!"
One of the creature's wings slipped open, and Captain rolled in mid-air. The hunter's line of fall deflected, but it remained precipitous.
"You can do it!" MacArthur was yelling. "Fly, you little bastard! Fly!"
The hunter's wings stiffened. The plummet turned into a swoop, and Captain sailed unsteadily over the ground, wobbling through the ranks of the konish soldiers. The drone exploded beautifully in the background. The humans cheered. MacArthur screamed in joy.
But not for long. The scattering soldiers, recovering from the drone's crash, shifted their attention to the flying creature. Soldiers scurried to position, raising blasters and rifles. Captain struggled to the east, following the rolling terrain leading to the cliffs beyond. As he cleared the last konish soldier, the blasters opened fire. The hunter dipped and climbed, swerved and turned, covering more than half the open ground to the cliffs, but he was losing speed, the evasive maneuvers eroding his velocity. When he was almost to the cliff's edge, a blaster beam spun him around! Captain collapsed into a curled ball and fell with a sickening slide onto the rocky ground beyond the grassy swell of the ridge. He had almost made it.
High overhead, the orbiting hunters screamed fiercely.
"He's still moving!" MacArthur shouted, standing and staring through the field glasses. "Cover me!" Dropping binoculars and rifle, he sprinted down the rocky terrain. Captain had crashed short of the cliff's edge, but the cliff dweller had made it over the rise of the ridge; the konish soldiers could not see the fallen hunter. If MacArthur could reach the boulders at the foot of the high ground, he could make it out to the downed animal; the curve of the ridge would protect him. He bounded down the hill.
MacArthur heard a laser beam sing by his head and realized his beard was on fire. He dove behind rocks, slapping at his burning hair, feeling layers of skin slip from his cheek. The smell was nauseating. He heard loud noises and looked back. Chastain and Buccari were following him down the slope, jumping from rock to rock and providing furious covering fire. The lasers stopped, but konish infantry cannon erupted, and explosions rippled all around him.