Finally the time came for us all to go. The camp was closed down but for three or four huts and all that was left would just make a nice load for the two helicopters. I was walking to Fallen's hut to announce the fact when Rudetsky came up at a dead run. 'Come to the radio shack,' he said breathlessly. There's something funny going on at Camp One.'
I went with him and listened to the tale of woe. They'd had a fire and the big helicopter was burned up -- completely destroyed. 'Anyone hurt?' barked Rudetsky.
According to the tinny voice issuing waveringly from the loudspeaker no one had been seriously injured; a couple of minor burns was all. But the helicopter was a write-off.
Rudetsky snorted. 'How in hell did it happen?'
The voice wavered into nothingness and came back again, hardly more strongly. ', . . don't know . . . just happened . . .'
'It just happened,' said Rudetsky in disgust.
I said, 'What's the matter with that transmitter? It doesn't seem to have any power.'
'What's the matter with your transmitter?' said Rudetsky into the microphone. Turn up the juice.'
'I receive you loud and clear,' said the voice weakly. 'Can't you hear me?'
'You're damned right we can't,' said Rudetsky. 'Do something about it,'
The transmission came up a little more strongly. 'We've got everyone out of here and back to Mexico City. There are only three of us left here -- but Mr. Harris says there's something wrong with the jet.'
I felt a little prickling feeling at the nape of my neck, and leaned forward over Rudetsky's shoulder to say into the microphone, 'What's wrong with it?'
'. . . doesn't know . . . grounded . . . wrong registration . . . can't come until . , .' The transmission was again becoming weaker and hardly made sense. Suddenly it cut off altogether and there was not even the hiss of a carrier wave. Rudetsky riddled with the receiver but could not raise Camp One again.
He turned to me and said, 'They're off the air completely.'
Try to raise Mexico City,' I said.
He grimaced. 'I'll try, but I don't think there's a hope in hell. This little box don't have the power.'
He twiddled his knobs and I thought about what had happened. The big transport helicopter was destroyed, the jet was grounded in Mexico City for some mysterious reason and Camp One had gone off the air. It added up to one thing -- isolation -- and I didn't like it one little bit. I looked speculatively across the clearing towards the hangar where Rider was 'polishing up his chopper as usual. At least we had the other helicopter.
Rudetsky gave up at last. 'Nothing doing,' he said, and looked at his watch. That was Camp One's last transmission of the day. If they fix up their transmitter they'll be on the air again as usual at eight tomorrow morning. There's nothing we can do until then.'
He didn't seem unduly worried, but he didn't know what I knew. He didn't know about Jack Gatt. I said, 'All right; we'll wait until then. I'll tell Fallon what's happened.'
That proved to be harder than I anticipated. He was totally wrapped up in his work, brooding over a golden plate and trying to date it while he muttered a spate of Mayan numbers. I tried to tell him what had happened but he said irritably, 'It doesn't sound much to me. They'll be on the air tomorrow with a full explanation. Now go away and don't worry me about it.'
So I went away and did a bit of brooding on my own. I thought of talking about it to Halstead but the memory of what Pat Harris had said stopped me; and I didn't say anything to Katherine because I didn't want to scare her, nor did I want her to pass anything on to her husband. At last I went to see Rider. 'Is your chopper ready for work?' I asked.
He looked surprised and a little offended. 'It's always ready,' he said shortly.
'We may need it tomorrow,' I said. 'Get ready for an early start.'
VII
That night we had a fire -- in the radio shack!
I woke up to hear distant shouts and then the closer thudding of boots on the hard ground as someone ran by outside the hut. I got up and went to see what was happening and found Rudetsky in the shack beating out the last of the flames. I sniffed the air. 'Did you keep petrol in here?'
'No!' he grunted. 'We had visitors. A couple of those goddamn chicleros got in here before we chased them off.' He looked at the charred remains of the transmitter. 'Now why in hell would they want to do that?'
I could have told him but I didn't. It was something else to be figured into the addition which meant isolation. 'Has anything else been sabotaged?' I asked.
'Not that I know of,' he said.
It was an hour before dawn. 'I'm going down to Camp One,' I said. 'I want to know what's happened down there.'
Rudetsky looked at me closely. 'Expecting to find trouble?' He waved his hand. 'Like this?'
'I might be,' I admitted. 'There may be trouble here, too.
Keep everyone in camp while I'm away. And don't take any backchat from Halstead; if he makes .trouble you know what to do about it.'
'It'll be a pleasure,' said Rudetsky feelingly. 'I don't suppose you'd like to tell me what's really going on?'
'Ask Fallon,' I said. 'It's a long story and I have no time now. I'm going to dig out Rider.'
I had a bite to eat and then convinced Rider he had to take me to Camp One. He was a bit uncertain about it,
