“Rourke stole some planes from Tantalus Base. He’s a thief, Mr. Drake-”
So Rourke had micro-planes. How had he survived the bends? Rourke had learned of a way to deal with the bends. This was incredibly valuable. “How did Rourke escape the bends, Daniel?”
A shrewd look flickered on Danny’s face. “That? Oh, it’s simple.”
“What did he do?”
“I’ll tell you…if you help me.”
“Daniel, I am doing my utmost to help you.”
“Ben knows the secret,” Danny said.
“What is it exactly?”
“Totally simple.”
“Tell me!”
Danny knew he’d gotten Drake where he wanted him. He didn’t trust the man, but he knew he was smarter than Drake. “Get me to a hospital, Mr. Drake, and I’ll tell you how to survive the bends.”
Drake’s lips compressed. “All right-”
“That’s the deal, Mr. Drake. It’s not negotiable.”
“Of course I agree. Now here is what I want you to do, Daniel. You must do exactly as I say.”
“Just help me-!”
“Can you fly one of those planes?” Any idiot could fly one, even you, my little Daniel.
“Listen, get me help-”
“That’s what I’m desperately trying to do.”
“Just get me out of here-!” Danny was screaming over the cell phone.
“Can you listen to me for one moment?” Drake stepped to the open window and leaned out. He needed to get him out of there. Talk to him, pump him, get the information on Rourke…then take care of all the little people in short order. Drake looked along the length of Waikiki Beach. Little Daniel would need a landmark. He saw a light blink on, off…
Diamond Head Lighthouse.
To his left, inland, he could see clouds hovering over the mountain peaks. It meant that the trade wind was blowing. Blowing from Tantalus toward Diamond Head. That was important. “Daniel, you know what Diamond Head looks like, don’t you?”
“Everybody does.”
“I want you to take one of those planes and fly toward Diamond Head.”
“What?”
“They’re easy to fly. You can’t crash. You just bounce off things.”
Silence.
“Are you listening to me, Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“As you get closer to Diamond Head, you will see a blinking light near the sea. This is the Diamond Head Lighthouse. Fly toward the lighthouse. You can’t possibly miss it. I will be in a red sports car parked as close to the lighthouse as possible. Land on the hood of my car.”
“I want a medevac helicopter waiting for me.”
“First we need to get you decompressed. You’re too small for a helicopter.”
Minot began giggling. “They could lose me in a helicopter, couldn’t they? Ha, ha!”
“That’s funny, Daniel,” Drake said. “We’ll take you to the best hospital.”
“They’re hatching!”
“Just fly to the lighthouse.” Drake disconnected and pocketed the phone, and returned to the table, where he kissed Emily St. Claire on the cheek. “Total screaming emergency. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Christ, Vin. Where are you going?”
“Nanigen. I’m needed.” He caught the waiter’s eye; the waiter moved toward them.
Emily St. Claire shook her hair and took a sip of wine. She put the glass down. Without looking at Drake, she said, “Suit yourself.”
“I’ll make this up to you, Emily, I promise. We’ll do Tahiti in the Gulfstream.”
“That’s so old. I’d prefer Mozambique.”
“Done,” he said. He reached into his jacket and lifted a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills from his billfold. He handed them to the waiter without looking at them and said, “Take care of the lady.” He hurried out.
Vin Drake drove to a large discount store off Kapiolani Boulevard. On the way, he called Don Makele. “Meet me at the Diamond Head Lighthouse as soon as you can. Bring a micro communication radio. Come in the security truck. I will need the truck.”
Drake emerged from the store carrying a plastic bag with something bulky in it. He placed the bag in the trunk of his car.
Danny turned off the video screen and went back into the main hall, and took a drink of water from a bucket. He felt unbearably thirsty. Fluid had been leaking from his arm as the grubs began to break out, wetting his shirt and dribbling onto his pants. And the horror was that the grubs were spinning silk around themselves: they were turning into cocoons! Stuck to his arm! His heart was beating too quickly; he felt terrified, but knew what he had to do. It was kill or be killed in this world. He curled up in the chair by the fire. When Rourke returned from the hangar, he closed his eyes and feigned sleep, snoring to make sure Rourke got it.
He watched through slitted eyes while Rourke added fuel to the fire and climbed into his bed.
Danny got up, began creeping toward the tunnel.
“Where are you going?” Rourke asked.
Danny froze. “Just the privy.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure, Ben.”
He went down the tunnel, past the opening to Ben’s privy, and hurried down the corridor to the hangar. Once he got there, he turned on the lights. There were three micro-planes, which to choose? He selected the largest one, hoping it would have the greatest range and most power. A cable led from the plane’s battery pack into the dirt floor. He unplugged the cable. He had forgotten to open the hangar doors.
The doors were held in place with metal pins. He pulled out the pins, and slid open the rolling doors, revealing a night sky studded with tropic stars, a waxing moon, and ghostly shapes of trees. He climbed into the cockpit and settled himself, buckled up, and touched the instrument panel.
At that moment, a terror struck him: he didn’t have a starter key.
He searched the control panel, and found a button with a power symbol on it. He pressed it. The panel lit up and he felt the plane lurch as the electric motor turned over. Ready for takeoff. His left arm lay on his lap like a prop from a horror movie; the sleeve had shredded as the grubs chewed their way out. Two more grubs had broken through his skin and begun to spin cocoons around themselves. It was horrible; how could Nature be so cruel? It was so gruesome, so inhuman, and it really didn’t seem fair.
He took the stick in his hands and moved it, and saw the ailerons waggle. He pushed the throttle forward. The propeller wound up fast, whining at the back of the plane. The plane began bumping along the floor. He slopped the stick around, cursing, and got the plane under control, and the plane shot out of the hangar and climbed into the voracious night.
Chapter 42
Waikiki 31 October, 11:15 p.m.
Eric Jansen had gone out on Kapiolani late to get something to eat, and he walked back to the apartment carrying a styro box of kalua pork and rice. In the driveway he said hello to two guys, who were sitting on lawn chairs by the colorful pickup truck, drinking beer and listening to music. He went around to the back, and up a flight of steps to a second-floor apartment.
The apartment was a furnished one-bedroom. Eric sat at a tiny table and opened the box and began eating.
