The Mysterious Ambassador (7 page)

"A second helicopter is on the way," said Ambassador Cari.

Bababu looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

"Indeed," he said. "That is good."

"Good? You approve?" asked a reporter.

"Why not?"

"Lamanda Luaga is with them. There were wagers you wouldn't permit the first crew to leave," said an English reporter.

"The medical team performed a good service for my people," said Bababu. "We hope for their safe return to their homes."

"What about Luaga?" persisted the Englishman.

"That is another matter, a political matter," said Bababu.

"Will you let him return?"

Bababu glanced at Colonel Mokata.

"This press conference was arranged for Ambassador Cari on behalf of the United Nations. It is not concerned with the internal affairs of this country. The conference is concluded," said Mokata.

A dozen voices protested, wanting to ask more questions.

General Bababu smiled and shook his head, and soldiers with rifles moved slowly toward the group.

"This way out," said Mokata.

When the doors were closed and Bababu was alone with Mokata, the two men laughed.

"Another crew?" said Mokata.

"We can shoot them down as fast as they send them," said Bababu, bellowing with laughter.

"Faster!" said Mokata, as the two men howled.

In the Wambesi village, the team had spent the last hours saying their farewells to the people. During the four-month stay, they'd made many friends among all the jungle tribes, but the Wambesi were their special friends since the field hospital was here. The people brought them armloads of gifts, ornaments, furs, and food. For Diana in particular, the only woman, the gifts were impressive—jewelry decorated with gems of unknown value, beautiful wood carvings, and other artifacts.

"But there won't be room on the helicopter for all this," said Chris Able.

"We must find room," said Diana. "We can't disappoint them."

High chief Wambato came forward with a special gift for Diana, a long necklace, encrusted with jewels, and wrought of a dull metal in a curious intricate design. As he hung it about her neck, the villagers watched quietly, as though it was an event of great importance. He explained to Luaga who translated for Diana.

"It is an heirloom," explained Luaga. "From his ancestors, worn by queens of olden times, said by tradition to have been a gift of King Solomon to the Queen of Sheba."

"The Queen of Sheba?" gasped Diana. "But he shouldn't give that to me."

"He has given it to you, Diana," said Luaga.

"How am I able to thank you?" she asked.

The old chief took her hands in his.

"He thanks you for what you did for us."

There was general cheering, and wooden cups were passed containing the local equivalent of beer, a fermented squash and melon drink which, they'd long since discovered, had a hidden kick that sneaked up on you like a robber in the night. Then they waited patiently for the rescue craft.

One hour after the scheduled arrival, they began to worry. Diana connected the radio, which was partially packed, and called the helicopter. No answer. The others crowded about her. She called the Mawitaan airport. After several attempts, she got through. They got the news. The pilots had been shot down by guerillas. They were missing, probably dead. But a second crew would arrive in a few days. They stared at each other, stunned by the news.

"Guerillas?" said Luaga. "Bababu."

"You think he did it?" asked Kirk.

"Of course," said Onato Omu.

"But he gave permission for the crew to pick us up," said Kirk.

"That also sounds like him," said Omu.

"But Lanston and Osborne?" said Diana, her eyes filling with tears. "Shot down—dead?"

Kirk put his arm around her. "That is not known, Diana," he said. "Let's hope they got away. They're clever men."

It was a faint hope.

"What now? We can't just wait here forever," said Diana tearfully. They looked through the open village gates. In the background, the pygmies remained. No exit. It was then that they heard the drumbeats. Luaga listening alertly, then looked puzzled. The pygmies moved nearer the village and beckoned to them.

"What is it?"

The drums continued, coming from two directions.

"The talking drums. What are they saying?" asked Diana.

"They are saying—bring them to the grove," said Luaga.

High chief Wambato walked to them, and looked at the team.

"The message is for you, all of you," he said including Luaga and the delegation as well. "You are to go now. With them." And he pointed to the pygmies.

"But we must wait here, for the second crew," said Kirk.

"No, you must go. He has sent for you," said Wam-

"Another crew?" said Mokata.

"We can shoot them down as fast as they send them," said Bababu, bellowing with laughter.

"Faster!" said Mokata, as the two men howled.

In the Wambesi village, the team had spent the last hours saying their farewells to the people. During the four-month stay, they'd made many friends among all the jungle tribes, but the Wambesi were their special friends since the field hospital was here. The people brought them armloads of gifts, ornaments, furs, and food. For Diana in particular, the only woman, the gifts were impressive—jewelry decorated with gems of unknown value, beautiful wood carvings, and other artifacts.

"But there won't be room on the helicopter for all this," said Chris Able.

"We must find room," said Diana. "We can't disappoint them."

High chief Wambato came forward with a special gift for Diana, a long necklace, encrusted with jewels, and wrought of a dull metal in a curious intricate design. As he hung it about her neck, the villagers watched quietly, as though it was an event of great importance. He explained to Luaga who translated for Diana.

"It is an heirloom," explained Luaga. "From his ancestors, worn by queens of olden times, said by tradition to have been a gift of King Solomon to the Queen of Sheba."

"The Queen of Sheba?" gasped Diana. "But he shouldn't give that to me."

"He has given it to you, Diana," said Luaga.

"How am I able to thank you?" she asked.

The old chief took her hands in his.

"He thanks you for what you did for us."

There was general cheering, and wooden cups were passed containing the local equivalent of beer, a fermented squash and melon drink which, they'd long since discovered, had a hidden kick that sneaked up on you like a robber in the night. Then they waited patiently for the rescue craft.

One hour after the scheduled arrival, they began to worry. Diana connected the radio, which was partially packed, and called the helicopter. No answer. The others crowded about her. She called the Mawitaan airport. After several attempts, she got through. They got the news. The pilots had been shot down by guerillas. They were missing, probably dead. But a second crew would arrive in a few days. They stared at each other, stunned by the news.

"Guerillas?" said Luaga. "Bababu."

"You think he did it?" asked Kirk.

"Of course," said Onato Omu.

"But he gave permission for the crew to pick us up," said Kirk.

"That also sounds like him," said Omu.

"But Lanston and Osborne?" said Diana, her eyes filling with tears. "Shot down—dead?"

Kirk put his arm around her. "That is not known, Diana," he said. "Let's hope they got away. They're clever men."

It was a faint hope.

"What now? We can't just wait here forever," said Diana tearfully. They looked through the open village gates. In the background, the pygmies remained. No exit. It was then that they heard the drumbeats. Luaga listening alertly, then looked puzzled. The pygmies moved nearer the village and beckoned to them.

"What is it?"

The drums continued, coming from two directions.

"The talking drums. What are they saying?" asked

Diana.

"They are saying—bring them to the grove," said Luaga.

High chief Wambato walked to them, and looked at the team.

"The message is for you, all of you," he said including Luaga and the delegation as well. "You are to go now. With them." And he pointed to the pygmies.

"But we must wait here, for the second crew," said

Kirk.

"No, you must go. He has sent for you," said Wam-

bato, and he smiled at Diana. She suddenly hoped she understood.

"Who?" she said, almost afraid to ask. "Your good friend," said high chief Wambato.

The Wambesi crowded outside the village walls to watch the departure of their visitors. High chief Wam- bato himself stood at the gates to wave good-bye. Like all his people, he remained silent and seemed apprehensive. The departing party, consisting of the team and the delegation, had four horses and two mules. Diana and Luaga rode; the other animals were loaded with packs of paraphernalia, supplies, and gifts. The walking men all carried rifles. So they left in the eerie silence. Soon the village was out of sight, and they traveled on a narrow jungle path.

"Why were they so quiet, so—odd?" asked Diana of Luaga who rode next to her.

"Because we are going east," he said.

"What does that mean?"

He explained. The Wambesi people lived on the borders of the familiar western jungle, which most of the jungle folk knew, where they lived and hunted and worked. Beyond the border, toward the east, the jungle became less familiar. And the farther east they went, the less known it would become.

"Is it dangerous?" she asked.

"I don't want to alarm you, Diana, but the fact is— yes, it might be," he replied hesitantly.

"Why?"

"The farther east we go, the more off the beaten track we are," he replied, as if that explained it.

"Why?" she repeated. He sighed.

"There are certain people, less advanced, in this area," he replied.

"Such as?" she said, prodding him.

"Such as the Mussanga, or even the Tirangi from the Misty Mountains."

"You mean they're savage?"

He nodded.

"How, Lamanda?"

"Diana you're most insistent. I said I didn't wish to alarm you, but since you won't be satisfied, here it is. The Mussanga have been known to indulge in—cannibalism. The Tirangi, until recently, were headhunters. May still be," he said.

"Oh," said Diana. "Thank you."

He laughed ruefully.

"Add to that the new danger of guerilla bands, and the old dangers of animals and insects, and you can see why the Wambesi were so quiet, and, as you said, seemed odd."

Diana was quiet for a time. A random thought came to her—why had her "good friend" exposed them to such multiple and horrible dangers?

"But chances are, unless there is an ambush, we'll be safe," he added.

"How can you say that, after all you've told me?" asked Diana.

"The Bandar. I doubt if anything in the jungle will bother us as long as they're with us. Guerillas with rifles might not fear them, but all other two-legged predators will."

Diana looked with new eyes at the little men walking just ahead of them. They had seemed such a threat, such an obstacle during those days at the village. Now, suddenly, they were protectors.

They marched until dark, then made camp by a pool of fresh water, lit small fires and had a simple dinner. All were exhausted and went quickly to sleep. The pygmies took turns as sentries, and the team and delegation each served an hour's watch during the night. Diana insisted on taking her turn at watch. She sat by the fire, staring into the black jungle night, hearing the strange symphony of insect, bird, and animal sounds, and thinking of the man she would soon meet.

How long since she had seen him? A year? Her mother had been constantly critical of her attachment. Mrs. Palmer could not approve of a masked man who lived in a cave among savages ("pygmies at that") and more. . . . "How can you stay in love with a man you hardly ever see?" her mother would exclaim. Her mother was warm and loving, but she could hardly understand the excitement Diana felt merely in anticipating a meeting with him—and when she was actually with him, her excitement was almost too much to bear. Millions believed her man to be immortal . . . the Man Who Cannot Die. Beyond his immense strength and .pedal talents, she knew him to be an otherwise normal, warm human being. Yet he was different from all oilier men she had ever known or could imagine. The mysterious aura about him almost placed him in another dimension. She smiled to herself thinking—in another age, the age of myths, girls had loved gods and perhaps they had known the same kind of almost unbearable excitement when their god approached them. And so she daydreamed in the jungle night, until Kirk touched her shoulder and took over her watch. She slept on the hard ground, dreaming of the Phantom.