but since Fallon had apparently abdicated all responsibility and because I was backed up by Rudetsky he eventually gave way and we were ready for take-off just as the sun rose. Katherine came to see me off, and I leaned down and said, 'Stick close to the camp and don't move away. I'll be back before long.'
'All right,' she promised.
Halstead came into view from somewhere behind the helicopter and joined her. 'Are you speeding the hero?' he asked in his usual nasty way. He had been investigating the Temple of Yum Chac above the cenote and was chafing to really dig into it instead of merely uncovering the surface, but Fallon wouldn't let him. The finds Katherine and I had been making in the cenote had put his nose out of joint. It irked him that non-professionals were apparently scooping the pool -- to make a bad pun -- and he was irritable about it, even to the point of picking quarrels with his wife.
He pulled her away from the helicopter forcibly, and Rider looked at me and shrugged. 'We might as well take off,' he said. I nodded, and he fiddled with fee controls and up we went.
I spoke to Rider and he merely grinned and indicated the intercom earphones, so I put them on, and said into the microphone 'Circle around the site for a bit, will you? I want to see what it looks like from the air.'
'Okay,' he said, and we cast around in a wide sweep over Uaxuanoc. It actually looked like a city from the air, at least the part that had been cleared did. I could see quite clearly the huge platform on which was built the Temple of Kukulkan and the building which Fallon referred to jocularly as 'City Hall'. And there was the outline of what seemed to be another big platform to the east along the ridge, but that had only been partially uncovered. On the hill above the cenote Halstead had really been working hard and the Temple of Yum Chac was unmistakable for what it was -- not just a mound of earth, but a huge pyramid of masonry with a pillared hall surmounting it.
We made three sweeps over the city, then I said, 'Thanks, Harry; we'd better be getting on. Do you mind keeping low -- I'd like to take a closer look at the forest.'
'I don't mind, as long as you don't want to fly too low. I'll keep the speed down so you can really see.'
We headed east at a height of about three hundred feet and at not more than sixty miles an hour. The forest unreeled below, a green wilderness with the crowns of trees victorious in their fight for light spreading a hundred and sixty feet and more from the ground. Those crowns formed scattered islands against the lower mass of solid green, and nowhere was the ground to be seen.
'I'd rather fly than walk,' I said.
Harry laughed. 'I'd be scared to death down there. Did you hear those goddamn howler monkeys the other, night? It sounded as though some poor guy was having his throat cut -- slowly.'
'The howlers wouldn't worry me,' I said. 'They just make a noise, nerve-racking though it is. The snakes and pumas would worry me more.'
'And the chicleros,' said Harry. 'I've been hearing some funny stories about those guys. Just as soon kill a man as spit, from what I hear.' He looked down at the forest. 'Christ, what a place to work in! No wonder the chicleros are tough. If I was working down there I wouldn't give a damn if I lived or died -- or if anyone else did, either.'
We crossed a part of the forest that was subtly different from the rest. I said, 'What happened here?'
'I don't know,' said Harry, and sounded as puzzled as I was. 'That tree looks dead. Let's have a closer view.'
He manipulated the controls, and the chopper slowed and wheeled around the treetop. It was one of the big ones whose crown had broken free of the rest to spread luxuriantly in the upper air, but it was definitely leafless and dead, and there were other dead trees all about. 'I think I get it,' he said. 'Something has happened here, probably a tornado. The trees have been uprooted, but they're so damned close packed they can't fall, so they've just died where they are. What a hell of a place -- you gotta die standing up!'
We rose and continued on course. Harry said, 'It must have been a tornado: the dead trees are in a straight line. The tornado must have cut a swathe right through. It's too localized to have been a hurricane -- that would have smashed trees over a wider area.'
'Do they have hurricanes here?'
'Christ, yes! There's one cutting up ructions in the Caribbean right now. I've been getting weather reports on it just in case it decides to take a swing this way. It's not likely, though.'
The helicopter lurched in the air suddenly and he swore. 'What's wrong?' I asked.
'I don't know.' He was rapidly checking his instruments. After a while he said, 'Everything seems okay.'
No sooner had he said it man there was & hell of a bang from astern and the whole fuselage swung around violently. The centrifugal force threw me against the side of the cockpit and I was pinned there, while Harry juggled frantically with the controls.
The whole world was going around in a cock-eyed spin; the horizon rose and fell alarmingly and the forest was suddenly very close -- too damned close. 'Hold on!' yelled Harry, and slammed at switches on the instrument panel.
The noise of the engine suddenly stopped, but we continued to spin. I saw the top of a tree athwart our crazy path and knew we were going to crash. The next tiling -- and last thing -- I heard was a great crackling noise ending in a smash I was thrown forward and my head connected violently with a metal bar.
And that was all I remember.
Nine
My head hurt like hell. At first it was a distant throb, no worse man someone else's hangover, but it grew in intensity until It felt as though someone was using my skull for a snare-drum. When I moved something seemed to explode inside and everything went blank.
The next time I came round was better -- but not much. I was able to lift my head this time but I couldn't see. Just a lot of red lights which danced in front of my eyes. I leaned back and rubbed at them, and then was aware of someone groaning. It was some time before I could see properly and then everything was green instead of red -- a dazzle of moving green something-or-other showing through the transparent canopy.
I heard the groan again and turned to see Harry Rider slumped forward in his seat, a trickle of blood oozing
