bank slanted at crazy angles or had toppled over. One tree trunk appeared to have dropped straight into the ground.
Joe emerged from the plane carrying a large serving spoon and two soup spoons. With an apologetic smile he said, 'These were all I could find.'
SARA TENDED THE unconscious James by sponging his face and arms to cool him in the stifling heat. She had no idea if it did any good, but she liked to think it did. Meanwhile, Pandit kept a wary eye on the sea outside. A
series of waves racing over its surface, warned him of the approaching earthquake. 'Sara,' he cried, 'we must carry Mr. Neville to safety.'
'Isn't it safe here?'
'Look at the sea.'
Sara looked through the colonnade and saw the im-mense swells traveling toward the island like a range of watery hills. Pandit was already at her side, raising James from the bed. 'We can take him to the bathroom.'
They had just managed to carry James inside the small room and huddle with him in the corner, when the entire island groaned. They heard the sound of cracking stone, and the whole room began to shake and rise. The lights went out and a pipe burst, spraying them with water. From outside the colonnade came the rumble of falling rock and a cloud of dust filled the room.
Sara and Pandit were just getting their bearings when they heard a different sound. This time it was a deep roar. Water crashed through the open bathroom doorway, slammed into the wall, then quickly filled the room. Pan-dit had but a moment to gasp in air and grab hold of Sara before they were completely submerged. As he prepared to die, he remembered his mother cooking lentils and Sara asking for fruit. The water began to flow out of the room, dragging Pandit and Sara with it. Sara held on to Pandit as tightly as he to her. The retreating wave dragged them as one across the outer room, slamming them into one of its stone columns. The blow knocked the breath out of Pan-dit, and he swallowed seawater. Then the water pulled them beyond the room onto a pile of boulders just out- side. Pandit's lungs screamed for air as his mind began to grow dark.
Suddenly, he was coughing and sputtering on top of jagged stones. Sara, up to her knees in the ebbing water, was tugging at him, trying to get him to his feet. 'Pan-dit!' she cried urgently. 'Another wave is coming!'
Somehow, Pandit found the strength to rise, and with Sara's help he stumbled across the sodden, sand-strewn room back to the meager shelter of the bathroom. The second wave hit with almost the force of the first, but the water rose only to Pandit's and Sara's chests. When it began to flow out, they dived beneath its surface and grabbed hold of the toilet fixture. This time, they were not sucked from the room. Five more times, the waters reached for them, each time with weakened force. Several more waves broke against the mound of stones left by the avalanche outside the colonnade. Finally, it was over. Sara and Pandit emerged from their shelter to discover the room filled with several feet of sand. A huge fish with wicked teeth flopped upon it. There was no trace of James. The grief Pandit felt for his friend and employer contrasted with his joy at saving Sara. She was covered with scrapes and welts, her hair was bedraggled, and her dress was a tattered rag, yet she never seemed so beautiful to him. Her eyes made all the difference. She gazed at him as if she saw him for the first time. Not as a servant or an adoring buffoon, but as a man. A man who had risked everything for her. Risked everything and won.
Pandit hugged Sara close to him. 'Rick was wrong.' he said. 'The wave did not overcome us. We overcame it.'
Sara returned his embrace, then searched for his mouth with her lips.
JOE GRABBED THE handle of the serving spoon with both hands and began digging into the earth to free the air-plane. Rick and Con took the soup spoons and immedi-ately joined in. No one had to say how important the plane was to them. Without it, they would be stranded on one of the most devastated parts of the planet. All their plans counted on them getting far away. That knowledge made them attack the earth with desperate intensity.
It was much harder work than they expected. The rocky soil had been compacted by the shaking and yielded grudgingly to their meager tools. They were emotionally and physically drained to begin with, so digging in the searing heat quickly pushed them to exhaustion. Joe be-came woozy. The spoon dropped from his nerveless hand, and he wavered a bit before slumping over. Con grabbed a water bottle and splashed his face.
'Wha . . . what?' said Joe in a slow, slurred voice.
'Heat exhaustion,' said Rick to Con. 'Let's get him inside the plane.' They helped Joe into the plane; then Rick made his way up the inclined floor to the control panel. Thanks to the tape labels, he was able to close the opening and turn on the environmental controls that cooled the cabin. Meanwhile, Con gave Joe water and wiped his forehead with a damp cloth. He slowly recovered.
'I'm really sorry, guys,' said Joe weakly.
'We were stupid to work in that heat,' said Rick. 'It could have been any one of us. We've got to be more careful.'
'But the plane,' protested Joe.
'We can work when it's cooler,' said Rick. 'This heat won't last.'
