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jungle in less than a day. You'll be interested to know mat right now they're
debating whether or not to get rid of you and your idol. Seems they feel they
may have been mistaken about Aza."
"What do they plan to do about it?" Ross Ed asked guardedly.
"They're not planning to shoot you or anything. Relax. Maybe they'll leave
you for theU.S. soldiers to find."
That would be about right, Ross thought disgustedly. When they hadn't wanted
to go into the jungle, the rebels had taken them by force. Now that they might
want to remain with the Indians to avoid the attentions of the army, their
hosts were con-sidering dumping them. He wondered how his friends, the
captains three, were enjoying the bugs and humidity. The thought made him feel
a little better.
"Is there much more of this climbing?" Caroline was starting to labor and her
fair skin was suffering from the intermittent exposure to raw tropical sun.
Like Ross Ed, she was perspiring profusely.
McClure could offer no solace. "This part of theYucatan is all up and down.
One near impassable ridge after another. That's why the rain forest here is
still largely intact. Good for the environment, good for guerrilla fighters,
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not so good for hiking."
To the visitors' relief, the trail soon started down into the next lush,
overgrown valley. Rain began to pelt them, the drops heavy and warm. Amid the
gathering downpour, one cloud moved with significant independence.
The Culakhan Frontrunner stood before a vitreous wall in which assorted
images were floating. Readouts drifted into the image, responding to retinal
contact by sliding out again once they had been read.
"They are almost directly beneath us," reported one of the monitoring
technicians. She sat sideways to her instrumentation, manipulating it mostly
with voice commands and only occasion-ally with her prehensile tail.
"I can see that." Uroon stoically examined the screens.
"Do you wish us to descend to within lifting range and pick them up?"
"Not yet. There are too many natives in the immediate vicinity. This time we
would be observed by a multitude. You know that portion of the Codes which
restricts contact with primitive civilizations." He turned away from the wall
of information. "Now that we have relocated the Shakaleeshva, there is no need
to rush the matter." Reaching up and back with a foreleg, he scratched his
belly. "Such transfers are best accomplished under cover of darkness. We will
wait and see what opportunities the night brings."
"We could simply obliterate the immediate countryside and all observers
located therein," suggested another technician. "Do you not, Frontrunner,
sometimes feel the urge to overlook portions of the Codes?"
"I would sooner overlook mating." Uroon's expression was stern. "The Codes
are the Culakhan. Without them we would be no better than the Shakaleeshva. I
commend to you the chapter on patience." Suitably abashed, the tech who had
ventured the recommendation hung her head down to her chest.
"We will repossess the vile Shakaleeshva and its attendant humans soon
enough. This time there will be no mental tricks." Red eyes gleamed in the
subdued light of the command chamber. "I do not enjoy playing the fool."
Later that afternoon the line of rebels halted beside the river that ran
through the narrow valley. There was no sign of imminent pursuit and those in
charge felt it was safe to stop.
No one was more pleased than Caroline, who was near the end of her proverbial
rope. She was neither built nor dressed for cross-country walking. Plunging
her face into the clear, cool river water helped greatly to revive her spirits
if not her strength.
They were startled when sounds materialized in the forest up ahead instead of
behind them. Ross Ed tensed and moved closer to the visitor fromNew York .
"What is it? Army?"
McClure was staring into the trees. "Don't know. I didn't give them that much
credit. Flanking maneuvers aren't their style."
An Indian came bursting out of the trees to wade the shallow tributary. When
mis scout sat down and began chattering calmly to his seated comrades, the
reporter relaxed.
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"Whatever it is, it's apparently nothing to get excited about. For a minute I
thought the army might have helicoptered some elite troops in ahead of us.
That would mean real trouble. But the government prefers to hold its best
soldiers back for parading, and for guarding government buildings. I really
think they want to negotiate the end to his uprising. For one thing, it'd look
better to the IMF." He drank noisily from his canteen.
"Then what's going on?" Having dunked her head completely underwater, a
refreshed Caroline was now patiently braiding the sodden strands.
"Beats me. I expect we'll find out soon enough."
They did. Three heavily armed strangers appeared on the far side of the river
and hailed the rebels. Granted safe passage, they proceeded to wade across.
Two carried automatic weapons. The third wore a pistol on either hip,
expensive (and now very wet) dress boots fashioned from some exotic leather, a
clean cotton shirt, and an immaculate wide-brimmed Panama hat. Impres-sively,
his holster leather matched that of his boots.
After glancing briefly at Ross Ed and lingeringly at Caroline, he took a
moment to study Jed. Whispering something to one of his men, he turned and
crouched to converse with the leaders of the rebel band.
"What's this all about?" Caroline edged closer to McClure. "Who are these
guys?"
"Quiet. Let me listen." The reporter strained to overhear.
When he finally turned back to them, he wore an expression unlike any they'd
seen before. "Well, you don't have to worry about anyone shooting you. It's
been decided that you are to be turned over to these newcomers, alien and
all."
"But who are they?" a suddenly tense Caroline demanded to know.
"I'm not sure. Haven't seen them before. Haven't been in this part of the
jungle before. As near as I can make out, you've been sold."
Her eyes widened slightly. "I beg your pardon?"
"Hey, I'm not positive. My Spanish isn't perfect. But that's the way it
sounds. You can't blame the rebels. They need money for supplies and weapons
and this gives them a conscientious way to get rid of you and your bad-luck
god. They're going to take the money and run."
"They can't sell us," Ross Ed objected. "We're not even for rent. And
besides, we don't happen to belong to them."
"I couldn't agree with you more, but nothing can be done about it. Seems to
be a done deal."
"Can't you help us?" Caroline pleaded.
"What, and compromise my reportorial neutrality? Sorry, miss. Best I can do
is get on the phone and let the embassy know what happened to you. Of course,
if you are trying to avoid the attention ofU.S. government agencies& "
"Surely this man in the hat doesn't think he owns us?"
"He'd better not." Even as he spoke Ross Ed was acutely aware there was
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little they could do to affect the proceedings, unless Jed could nudge the man
mentally. And if such effects were only temporary or limited in scope, that
might not be such a good idea. They'd still be stuck in the middle of raw
jungle. Around them macaws squawked and monkeys chittered in the treetops.
At last the negotiations were concluded. The man in the hat rose and shook
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