guys have made a mistake-you and Barber, too. There's no treasure.
Forget it and concentrate on how we get out of here."
"First things first," said Silvera.
Karl asked Gabe, "Suppose we hadn't crashed and there actually was a treasure? What was the plan?"
"There's no treasure. Never mind what the plan was."
Silvera chuckled. "One must admit our original plan was excellent, and vastly simpler than what we're now engaged in."
Karl asked, "You intended to fly out with the treasure and leave us here?"
55
"Exactly," answered Silvera.
"Oh, Gabe," said Jan in a soft faraway voice. "Now we have had enough chitchat and confessional sessions," said Silvera. "I want to know where the treasure is." He had eased up to within inches of Jan. "I would appreciate being told."
Jan looked down to meet his gaze. "There is no treasure."
Silvera slapped her across the cheek. "I do not enjoy being lied to."
"You'd better not try that again!" shouted Karl.
Tinn pointed his automatic in Karl's direction. "No heckling."
"There is no treasure," repeated the girl Silvera slapped her twice more.
"Damn you," said Karl.
"Leave her alone," said Gabe.
Silvera scowled at the pilot. "Don't tell me what to do, boy" He reached out suddenly to slap Jan again.
"I'm telling you," warned Gabe. "Leave her alone."
Silvera caught hold of Jan's long blonde hair, tugged and twisted it, pulling her head down closer to his. "Tell us now."
Gabe made a rumbling, roaring sound in his throat. He came across the clearing in a hobbling run.
"Let go of her, man," he said. He kicked out with his good leg, catching Silvera in the kneecap hard with his boot toe.
"Hey!" The dark little man hopped back. He swung his rifle up, aimed it straight at Gabe.
Gabe's finger squeezed the trigger of his .32.
A slug dug into Silvera's right arm near the shoulder. He screamed, dropped to his knees, but kept hold of his rifle.
Gabe dived into the surprised and stunned Tinn. He hit the Chinese's low-hanging stomach with an elbow. Fresh blood was staining the leg of Gabe's trousers. His wound had opened again. "Run," he told Jan. "Get the Phantom."
Jan turned, sprinted into the giant underbrush. After a moment, she heard another shot. She didn't know if it had been aimed at her or Gabe.
She kept running.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jan had the impression she was jogging through a giant's garden. All around her grew wild cabbage, the heads as large as compact cars, the enormous veined leaves a glaring sea green. She had been 56
running for well over ten minutes. There was no sound of pursuit; no sound at all came to her from back at the campsite.
The lovely blonde slowed to a walk, then stopped entirely. "Get hold of yourself, old girl," she said.
She was breathing rapidly, her mouth open. "If you're going to find the Phantom, you're going to need a plan."
She began walking, passing wild kale with curly tipped leaves the size of shop awnings. "The River of Fire should run toward the south of the volcano, he told me, toward the place where they built that sacrificial platform so long ago. So the Phantom probably went south."
Jan changed her course. Presently she was making her way through fields of gigantic weeds. The morning grew warmer; the high ceiling of mist took on a more yellow tinge from the unseen sun.
Gradually, somewhere behind her, a clattering sound started. After a moment, Jan turned her head to see what was making the noise. "Golly, a member of the familyManitidae!" exclaimed the girl biologist.
Tottering toward her through the high weeds was a praying mantis. This one was almost six feet tall, thin, green, with waving antennae and red globular again.
The wounded Silvera was swinging his rifle up eyes. It looked, with its lean spikey forefeet and elongated many-jointed body, like some fantastic mechanical construction, some robot programmed to follow Jan.
"They call the mantis the tiger of the insect world," she recalled,
Forget it and concentrate on how we get out of here."
"First things first," said Silvera.
Karl asked Gabe, "Suppose we hadn't crashed and there actually was a treasure? What was the plan?"
"There's no treasure. Never mind what the plan was."
Silvera chuckled. "One must admit our original plan was excellent, and vastly simpler than what we're now engaged in."
Karl asked, "You intended to fly out with the treasure and leave us here?"
55
"Exactly," answered Silvera.
"Oh, Gabe," said Jan in a soft faraway voice. "Now we have had enough chitchat and confessional sessions," said Silvera. "I want to know where the treasure is." He had eased up to within inches of Jan. "I would appreciate being told."
Jan looked down to meet his gaze. "There is no treasure."
Silvera slapped her across the cheek. "I do not enjoy being lied to."
"You'd better not try that again!" shouted Karl.
Tinn pointed his automatic in Karl's direction. "No heckling."
"There is no treasure," repeated the girl Silvera slapped her twice more.
"Damn you," said Karl.
"Leave her alone," said Gabe.
Silvera scowled at the pilot. "Don't tell me what to do, boy" He reached out suddenly to slap Jan again.
"I'm telling you," warned Gabe. "Leave her alone."
Silvera caught hold of Jan's long blonde hair, tugged and twisted it, pulling her head down closer to his. "Tell us now."
Gabe made a rumbling, roaring sound in his throat. He came across the clearing in a hobbling run.
"Let go of her, man," he said. He kicked out with his good leg, catching Silvera in the kneecap hard with his boot toe.
"Hey!" The dark little man hopped back. He swung his rifle up, aimed it straight at Gabe.
Gabe's finger squeezed the trigger of his .32.
A slug dug into Silvera's right arm near the shoulder. He screamed, dropped to his knees, but kept hold of his rifle.
Gabe dived into the surprised and stunned Tinn. He hit the Chinese's low-hanging stomach with an elbow. Fresh blood was staining the leg of Gabe's trousers. His wound had opened again. "Run," he told Jan. "Get the Phantom."
Jan turned, sprinted into the giant underbrush. After a moment, she heard another shot. She didn't know if it had been aimed at her or Gabe.
She kept running.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jan had the impression she was jogging through a giant's garden. All around her grew wild cabbage, the heads as large as compact cars, the enormous veined leaves a glaring sea green. She had been 56
running for well over ten minutes. There was no sound of pursuit; no sound at all came to her from back at the campsite.
The lovely blonde slowed to a walk, then stopped entirely. "Get hold of yourself, old girl," she said.
She was breathing rapidly, her mouth open. "If you're going to find the Phantom, you're going to need a plan."
She began walking, passing wild kale with curly tipped leaves the size of shop awnings. "The River of Fire should run toward the south of the volcano, he told me, toward the place where they built that sacrificial platform so long ago. So the Phantom probably went south."
Jan changed her course. Presently she was making her way through fields of gigantic weeds. The morning grew warmer; the high ceiling of mist took on a more yellow tinge from the unseen sun.
Gradually, somewhere behind her, a clattering sound started. After a moment, Jan turned her head to see what was making the noise. "Golly, a member of the familyManitidae!" exclaimed the girl biologist.
Tottering toward her through the high weeds was a praying mantis. This one was almost six feet tall, thin, green, with waving antennae and red globular again.
The wounded Silvera was swinging his rifle up eyes. It looked, with its lean spikey forefeet and elongated many-jointed body, like some fantastic mechanical construction, some robot programmed to follow Jan.
"They call the mantis the tiger of the insect world," she recalled,
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