by Simon Latter
Then came the Padracks to teach selected islanders, chosen by Tom-Tom, a new form of work with chemicals and instruments, such as microscopes, slides, testing retorts, and simple routine laboratory work. Visitors became more frequent, stayed longer in the new house built by Lodori and the Padracks next to the laboratory at the end of the work sheds.
High pay was offered and training given to operate machines tunnelling into the headland beneath the Taramao forest. Chief Kuala's authority grew less and less, although the traditional respect of his islanders remained. But the pattern of daily work now became established, with Tom-Tom the leader of all those employed.
THRUSH allowed Kuala to remain as chief, providing he didn't try to interfere with their plans. For a long time he wasn't able to, because his people never had it so good. But THRUSH slowly withdrew the high pay and easy working conditions until the islanders found themselves working almost as slave labour under the now powerful Tom-Tom, who was using his chosen henchmen as overseers.
The production pressure had increased over the previous six months as the islanders' freedom became even more restricted. The one occasion when, by tradition, everyone stopped work was when Island Traveller docked. Then, previously, everyone had put on their gayest sarongs, the girls fixed flowers in their hair, the pearl divers swam around the pleasure boats — though there wasn't much of a pearl-diving industry since the oyster beds had been depleted by disease a few years back — and a high holiday enjoyed by all. Now, the islanders were not allowed to leave their work. The harbour area was fenced off. Those who did not work under Tom-Tom were threatened by his guards if they dared to approach the dock.
Chief Kuala immediately protested, declaring he would tell his people to stop working. But he and those who openly supported him were swiftly overpowered and taken to the new huts which Lodori had said were to be storehouses but which, obviously, had been prepared for just such a purpose. THRUSH domination of the island was complete. So was the disillusionment of the majority of its people.
U.N.C.L.E. agents had proof of this as the chief led the way through the first long house. The islanders flocked around him. He spoke to them quietly. The men sent the women and children to the far end of the house, collected their serengatas — a sharp-edged, sword-shaped piece of wood fashioned from roots of the tara tree, not unlike a panga — and followed their chief to the next house.
Division of the islanders into Tom-Tom's followers and Chief "Boy" Kuala's loyalists had become so fierce in the past weeks that the families no longer shared the same long house. Thus the success of THRUSH policy now assisted April, her colleagues and Kuala's men in speeding through the valley, collecting followers as they went. A few young men, caught as they visited girlfriends, were beaten up by the serengatas and roughly passed back to the women, who had formed themselves into a sort of corps of protective- custody guards, under the leadership of Kuala's wife.
Kuala admitted being puzzled by the rapid growth of Tom-Tom's power during the past week or so. In the next house they discovered that Mareet, Kuala's old enemy, had been kept prisoner up in Taramao since he had protested about conditions. He had died and been buried up there — leaving Tom-Tom in full power.
As they approached the long houses where Tom-Tom's followers now lived, April said to the Chief: "You have enough men now to do what has to be done. We will leave you to deal with your own people. Drive them back the way we have come and leave us to settle the real villains. We'll circle the long houses and go through the workshops."
Mark said: "How about us taking half a dozen hefty lads to wreck the workshops as we go? Save us time."
"Yes. That is good," Kuala agreed. "We want no more of this slaving. If the tools are smashed, my people can start again in our own ways. I will give you time to go past their houses. They do not suspect anything. You can hear them chanting. They are not allowed to leave the houses until dawn. The guards stay with them. Tom-Tom is so sure of his control that he has no one watching outside."
"Where will he be?" Mark asked.
Kuala smiled. "I know where he will be. I am going to Tom-Tom myself. I will bring him back on his knees. I leave you to deal with your people. You leave me to deal with mine."
As April, Mark, Lars and Kazan set off, Kazan whispered:
"I think there is going to be one sorry Tom-Tom!"
They reached the workshops — long, open-sided huts with centre benches, backed by racks containing the bark strips and moulding tools. Small hand presses were spaced along the benches. This made a crude but effective production line.
April said : "Mark and I will go this side — you two the other side. We want the tara plant processing shop, then the laboratory. With any luck, Sama and Randy should be through the tunnels by the time we reach there."
She had passed across the shadow between the buildings when figures leapt on them from the deeper shadows at the side.
They were snared in fishing nets and rolled in these until their arms and legs tangled in the folds. The fiat blades of serengatas slammed on their heads. Wisely, they gave up struggling. A fact which probably saved their lives.
CHAPTER TEN: FLAMES OF TARA
The THRUSH initial advantage of using and exploiting a simple, almost primitive people now turned into a major disadvantage for them. Chief Kuala's followers overpowered Tom-Tom's men, who anyway were swiftly discouraged by their womenfolk when family began beating up family. Squabbles were one thing, outright violence an alien way of settling them. Even grandmothers and aunts clouted a few heads of their younger relatives. Ancient traditions made short work of THRUSH'S disruptive policies. Finally there were as many women as men engaged in smashing the workshops to bits.
April and Mark heard the rending and smashing hubbub as their captors dumped them on the floor, then ran off — obviously to report. Mark spoke into his communicator. "Mark to Kazan — we are temporarily tied up. Two islanders heading for boss-men. Intercept if you can."
April eased her hands free of the net folds, drew out a blade from the pocket kit, slashed the mesh and climbed through. She removed her skull-protector and ran a comb through her hair before slashing Mark's net. He scrambled free as Kazan's voice sounded in their earpieces.
"We have dropped them with dart guns. Are you okay?"
"Okay now," said April. "Proceed to far end. Try to link up with Sama Paru. Leave the laboratory section to us."
Dr. Lodori, the Padracks and their scientist guest had not equipped themselves with a modern electronic communications system. This was unusual in a THRUSH project, because they, like U.N.C.L.E., made full use of the latest systems. But such systems need people skilled in their operation to be effective, and the Taradata islanders were not trained to use them.
So Tom-Tom was whipped away before he could send a runner to warn his bosses. The two guards who had trapped April and Mark gave no thought to the fact that these strangers might be fully equipped for an assault task — perhaps to the extent of wearing skull-protectors. Both had dropped at the first blow, a quite normal agent practice to put the attacker off guard, assess the odds, and decide countermeasures. The simple guards had thought one honk on the head was enough to put them out.
THRUSH had wired the tunnels under Taramao Point for light and power from the generator, but had not troubled to put in a two-way loudspeaker system, or inter-com circuit. Evidently they had not considered possible any attack by outsiders, assuming their control of the islanders to be sufficient to ensure their own safety. It gave April and Mark much glee and a certain smug arrogance to observe these THRUSH shortcomings.
"I sense the woman's touch," said April. "Or a woman-ish man. But I'll plump for Lucy Padrack being the dominant organizer here. A man would have made sure of an adequate electronic alarm and communications system. He'd have trained a nucleus of islanders to work them."
"Thought they were safe behind the harbour. No strangers unless the boat was in," said Mark. "Then they place guards to bar the way."
"Unforgivable, and criminally slack," said April heavily. "I'd shoot the lot of 'em, if they worked for me."
Mark smothered laughter. "Darling — what are you getting upset about?"
She grinned. "I'm envious of the islanders. At least they are having a smashing time!"
"Ouch! Well, let's you and I investigate this processing section."
"Where the hell are they?" said April as they moved on. "Can't any of the bosses hear the row going on behind us?"
"Obviously not."
They entered the last section. This was long, narrow, more sophisticated than the workshops yet still by modern factory standards, very primitive. Three vats, waist-high along one side, with wheeled superstructures on rails carrying spring-loaded mesh trays. Some tara plant leaves lay on these trays, still damp. Large, yellow-brown, lace-veined, delicate-looking. Moonlight slanting on one tray made the leaves appear translucent.
April inspected the fluid, testing it with her finger, then sniffing. Mark joined her. He too made tests on the liquid and plant leaves.
"Alcohol is part of it. What's the slightly bitter taste — alum?"
April rubbed the liquid between finger and thumb. Tested again. "No, not alum. I'd guess at acetylsalicylic acid."
"Aspirin!" Mark grinned. "Perhaps the tara plant has headaches? There's a volume tester and other gadgets over there."
They moved across. April inspected some drums mounted on power-driven turntables.
"Separators," she announced, and checked the containers. "Powder? No –– earth. No — earth is drawn out — here's the waste bin." They crossed to a row of shaping machines. The pan-shaped moulds were the size of a coracle. She tested the powdery residue. "Same stuff. They extract a yellowish powder from the soil, soak the leaves in that solution, bond several together with those heat presses in the centre, coat them with the powder, then shape them to fit inside the coracles. Why, Mark — why? If it's drugs, why not extract the substance they need and export that?"
Mark was busy placing plastic explosive charges. "Let the medics work it out. Our job is S.F.D. — remember?"
"Yes — okay."
They worked quietly, then ran from the section. Ahead of them, lights glowed in a glass-windowed building — the only stone-built structure they had seen. Through these windows they could see the Padracks and a bald, thin-faced man working at some papers. In another room — a white room filled with laboratory equipment — Cheval leaned over an assembly of phials and glass tubes.
Mark pointed. "Do you recognize the type of window?"
"They appear to be double-glazed — and the glass is slightly opaque. Why?"
"They're sona windows — a new sound-proofing process. No wonder they can't hear anything! The door's over that side." He drew his gun. "Shall we go straight in?"
Kazan's voice came urgently: "We can see you, but we're in a trap — armed guards on each side of us. They don't look too expert with their guns. We are keeping dart guns palmed. Will shoot our way out. Go on to your objective. Over and out."
Light from the windows prevented April and Mark seeing beyond the building to where Kazan and Lars were, below the black hump of Taramao Point.
"If we move to assist, they'll see us before we see them," said Mark.
"We go in," said April, drawing her gun. "We might need hostages."
They ran forward, aiming for the door and crossing diagonally past the front of the building.
Suddenly the earth blew up in their faces. Pressure waves slammed their ears, sickening pain filled their stomachs.
"Oh, Gawd!" Mark thought in these speeding seconds. "We've been booby-trapped! Sorry, April, old dear!" Then the dark mist swam down over him — down into earth-warm silence.
April thought: "Oh, hell! A trap! Sorry, Mark, I let you down. I should've known it was too easy!" She didn't feel her face hit the earth.
There were six guards in the large cave near the end of the sloping exit. Hiho jabbered softly.
"Four are our brothers who have become our enemies. We will slay them."
"Quit — you bloodthirsty little man!" said Randy. "They've got guns. We don't want you to suffer any more." He looked at Sama Paru. "Fun ploy?"
Sama nodded. "You think you're quick enough?"
Randy grinned. "Now's my chance to find out."
"Go," said Sama. "I cover. Keep to the left wall."
Randy trod to the cave. The six men squatted around a low table, eating from bowls. Three guns rested against the table. Three whips against the wall.
"Good evening," said Randy. "Can you direct me to the Eiffel Tower, please?"
Six startled faces lifted. Twelve eyes glared with amazed fright. Three hands snatched the guns. Randy fired from the hip. Two guards slid to the table. The third fired as Sama fired. Then a press of little men bowled past Randy, led by Hiho. Shovels clanged and whips slashed. Sama cried: "Enough! Out — all of you, out!"
Randy marshalled them clear as Sama ripped the cover off the power-circuit box. He picked up a rifle, crashed the wooden butt into the switches. Brilliant sparks, followed by an orange glow, filled the cave.
They went on down, seeing moonlight flaring in the opening, and emerged on a plateau above a window-lighted building, to see Kazan and Lars standing between two groups of islanders. All seemed frozen to the ground. A small dust cloud was puttering up from the far side of the building. Beyond it, a long house erupted in a succession of explosions.
Then little Hiho and his mates came swarming out. The islanders on each side of Kazan and Lars saw them and pelted away into the darkness. Hiho and his men split into two groups and, yelling like banshees, waving shovels, raced after them.
"You see!" Lucy Padrack gloated. "My safety line against the natives was worth the money, after all. You're such a fool, Simon. A mean fool, at that. Too expensive, you said. Well, look what we've caught!"
April Dancer, huddled in dizzy-sick ache, heard the lovely vibrant voice and tried not to sneeze as dusty earth tickled her nostrils. She was lying on a hard, cool surface. Inside? Must be. She kept her eyes closed.
"And what have we caught?" said Simon Padrack. "Two young fools from the ship, snooping around. How did they get past the guards?"
Dr. Lodori raised from stooping over Mark Slate.
"You blithering fools! You imbeciles! This man is an U.N.C.L.E. agent. I thought you told me you'd got rid of that agent in the crew?"
"We did," said Padrack. "He escaped, and he certainly didn't come back to the ship. That is not the man."
Cheval came in. Surveyed the scene.
"I warned you, Lodori — and you too, Padrack," he said. "I will not be a party to violence while I am here."
"Oh no!" Lucy sneered. "But you agreed to trick that little slut into taking a ride into the hills."
"Only because you believed she was a too-curious writer, and you assured me that she would be held up only long enough for her to miss the boat. Today, you tell me that your men aboard the ship are under arrest for mutiny and the murder of your colleague, Maleski. I do not like the way things are happening. I do not like it at all. My work is more important than such absurdities."
"It is nothing, Andre," said Lodori soothingly. "Some misunderstandings, that is all. But you must not be too squeamish, my friend. Our secret work has to be protected, and that means your work too. Leave us to deal with this foolishness and go on with your tests."
"They are finished," said Cheval. He smiled at Lodori. "You are a very clever man, George."
"Positive?" Lodori cried excitedly. "You found every test positive? Ah, mon vieux, that is wonderful — wonderful! The climax of my years of work!"
"You deserve your success," said Cheval. "I have signed the test sheets and the analysis records. I will write my report tomorrow. You can be very proud."
"Success? Wonderful? Proud?" Lucy said furiously. "And what about us? Didn't we make it possible? Didn't we believe in his crack-brained idea and hock ourselves to the hilt before we go
t the backing? Didn't we organize all this? You couldn't have done it without us."
"Lucy is right," said her husband. "But I would remind you all that this success to which we all have contributed is empty and worthless without the organization that made all else possible."
"That is true," said Cheval. "I congratulated you on their behalf because your success is theirs, my dear George. No one man is bigger than that cause for which we all work."
"No!" Lodori shouted. "No, no, no! I will not have it. This is mine, mine! I shall take the papers and..." He began to run to the doorway leading to the laboratory.
"Yes," said Cheval quietly.
Simon Padrack shot Lodori twice in the back.
"A pity," said Cheval. "Poor George spent too long alone on his little island. He forgot there is a world to conquer out there."
Another gun spat once. Simon Padrack's gun dropped as blood spurted from his wrist.
"Just stay very still," said April Dancer.
"Hullo, darling!" said Mark Slate from the opposite corner. "Had a good sleep? Aha, naughty!" He slashed Cheval across the back of the neck.
Cheval staggered back into the room.
Mark looked at him. "You said 'yes' to a man's murder as if you were ordering another drink. And your eyes enjoyed it."
"So you saw it?" said April.
"Full view," said Mark. "As Chas would say: we've got a nice bunch here."
Lucy Padrack cried: "My husband will bleed to death! I must get a dressing." She moved fast and had the parasol in her hand before April could turn without coming between Mark and the two men. Mark couldn't fire for fear of hitting April.
