'Ah, you've heard the legends. Very colorful, yes? Of course I have heard of this mythical goddess-chief, but I have never had the pleasure of meeting her.'
Gamay asked, 'Have you ever run into members of the tribe?'
'I have no firsthand knowledge of them, but there are the stories . . .'
'What kind of stories, Mr. von Hoffman?'
'The Chulo are said to live beyond the Hand of God. That's what the natives call the Great Falls some distance from here. They say the five cascading waterfalls resemble giant fingers. Natives who have gone too close to the falls have disappeared.'
'You said the forest was dangerous.'
'Yes, they could have been mauled by some animal or bitten by a poisonous snake. Or simply become lost.'
'How about nonnatives?'
'From time to time men come this way to seek their fortune. I have given them what poor hospitality I could, shared my knowledge of my surroundings, and, most important, warned them to stay away from Chulo territory.' He made a washing motion with his hands. 'Three expeditions ignored my cautions, and three have vanished without a trace. I notified the authorities, of course, but they know the impossibility of finding some one once the trees have swallowed them up.'
'Were any of those groups looking for plants that could be useful as pharmaceuticals?' Paul said.
'They came looking for medicine, for rubber, timber, treasure, and lost cities, for all I know. Few who pass this way share their secrets. I don't ask questions.'
While Dieter rambled on, Tessa had silently raised her hand and pointed toward the sky. He finally noticed the strange gesture and the Trouts' quizzical expressions. His face went rock hard, then the unctuous smile reappeared.
'As you can see, Tessa was most impressed by a group that passed this way not long ago in search of specimens. They employed a miniature zeppelin to move above the tree canopy. The natives were very much in awe of the machine, and so was I, I must admit.'
'Who were these people?' Gamay asked.
'I know only that they represented a French firm. You know how close-mouthed the French can be.'
'What happened to them?'
'I haven't the slightest idea. I heard they moved on. Maybe they were captured and eaten by the Chulo.' He laughed heartily at the prospect. 'Which brings me back to the purpose of your visit. I thank you very much for warning me, but now that you know the dangers that lurk here, I trust you will go back to Dr. Ramirez with my appreciation.'
Gamay looked at the lowering afternoon sun. She and Paul knew that in the tropics the sun drops with the swiftness of a guillotine blade.
'It's a little late to be starting back,' she said. 'What do you think, Paul?'
'It would be dangerous trying to navigate that river by night.'
Dieter frowned, then, seeing he was getting nowhere, smiled and said, 'Well then, you will be my guests. Tomorrow you will get an early start after a good night's sleep.'
Gamay half heard his words. Tessa's head was no longer downcast. She was looking straight at Gamay, her eyes wide open, almost imperceptibly shaking her head. Paul caught the gesture as well.
They thanked Dieter for the refreshing drink and his offer of a place to stay and said they wanted to retrieve some gear from the boat. As they walked toward the river the natives shied away as if the couple were surrounded by an invisible force field.
Gamay made a pretense of checking the engine for oil.
'Did you see Tessa?' she said. 'She was warning us.'
'No mistaking the terror in those eyes,' Paul said, examining the dip stick.
'What do you think we should do?'
'We don't have much choice. I'm not enthusiastic about spending the night here in Camp Happy, but I wasn't kidding. It would be crazy to run this river in the dark. Do you have any suggestions?'
'Yes, I do,' Gamay said, watching a bat the size of an eagle flit across the river in the failing light. 'I suggest that we don't dose our eyes at the same time.'
Chapter 9
As Austin scudded through the blue-green Baja waters on the back of a mini-submersible, he wondered how a National Geographic photographer filming a whale migration would react if a man riding a giant boot suddenly appeared in his camera's viewfinder. Perched outside, like a rumble seat passenger in an old roadster, Austin could see Joe's head and shoulders outlined by the blue light from the control computer screen inside the watertight cockpit.
Zavala's metallic voice crackled in the headphones of Austin's underwater communicator. 'How's the weather out there, cap?'
Austin rapped on the Plexiglas dome and curled his finger and thumb in the okay sign.
'It's fine. This beats muscle power any day,' he said.
Zavala chuckled. 'Contos will be pleased to hear that.'
The skipper of the Sea Robin had beamed with pride as he showed Austin the new submersible sitting in its deck cradle. The experimental mini-sub was a marvelously compact vehicle. The operator sat in the dry, pressurized cabin like the driver of a car, legs stretched out into the extended eight-foot-long hull. Two pontoons flanked the miniature cabin, and on the back were the air tanks and four thrusters.
Austin had run his fingers over the transparent bubble dome and said, 'I'll be damned. This thing does look like an old boot.'
'I tried to get you the Red October,' Contos said, 'but Sean Connery was using it.'
Austin wisely kept his silence. NUMA people were known to form personal attachments to the high-tech equipment under their command. The uglier the gear, the more intense the relationship. Austin didn't want to embarrass Contos by explaining how he knew the sub was being field-tested off California where the main components had been assembled. He had commissioned the design and building of the mini-submersible for the Special Assignments Team, and Zavala designed it. NUMA had subs that could go faster and deeper, but Austin wanted a tough little vehicle that would be portable, easily transported by a helicopter or boat. It would have to be unobtrusive as well, Austin specified, so as not to attract attention. Although he had approved the blueprints, this was his first glimpse of the final product.
Zavala was a brilliant marine engineer who had directed the construction of many manned and unmanned underwater craft. For inspiration, Zavala used the DeepWorker, a commercial mini-sub designed by Phil Nuytten and Zegrahm DeepSea Voyages, an adventure expedition cruise company. Zavala extended the range and power and added sophisticated testing capacity. He claimed the instruments aboard the submersible could tell what river or glacier a drop of ocean water came from.
The sub was originally named the DeepSee, an homage to its predecessor and to its intended function as an exploration vehicle. When Admiral Sandecker heard the designation he cringed at the pun. Shown the scale model, he grinned. 'It reminds me of one of the brogans I used to wear when I was a kid,' he said, using the old slang term for high-topped workboots. The new name stuck.
The NUMA ship cruised south from San Diego into Mexican waters, staying well offshore. Near Ensenada the Sea Robin began to follow the coast more closely. The ship passed several fishing boats and a couple of cruise ships. Before long the vessel was about a half mile from the open mouth of the cove Austin and
Zavala had scouted out earlier from land. Austin scoured the rugged cliffs through powerful binoculars and studied the back of the tortilla factory. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Large signs posted on either side of the lagoon warned of dangerous hidden rocks. Highlighting the warnings were caution buoys strung across the opening.
The Sea Robin sailed beyond the cove and headed into a small inlet. As the anchor slid into the sea, Zavala
