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I
of the directors. He said it was all right."
I tried to think. "How long were they here?"
"They showed up early, about eight o'clock I
think it was, and they had breakfast with Patricia
before they went into the study."
"Did they say where they were going?"
"Why, yes," thc housekeeper said. "They told
me that they were flying down to Washington to
meet with you and Mr. Atterbury. That's why I
was so surprised to see you here."
They had her. Christ, they had her. I released the
woman. "Can I use a telephone?"
"Yes, sir," she said, and she shov,cd me into the
study.
When she was gone, I telephoned Hawk and ex-
plained what had happened out here, asking him to
check with the airlines at LaGuardia and Kennedy
and call me back here when he found out some-
thing.
Next, I telephoned the Staley Foundation, the
operator answering on the second ring.
"Stewart Atterbury, please,"
I said, "Nick
Carter calling."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Carter. Mr. Atterbury is out of
the office. "
"When do you expect him back?"
"J really couldn't say, sir. He left for Washing-
ton, D.C. about two hours ago."
I stood there a long moment, the telephone to
my ear, unable to say a thing. Atterbury had re-
mained in town overnight, leaving Pat out here
alone. And then this morning he had left. I didn't
want it to make any sense, but I was getting a very
strong gut feeling that Atteroury was something
other than he seemed to be.
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' 'Thanks," I finally mumbled, and I hung up and
sat down on the edge of the desk. I lit myself a
cigarette, inhaling deeply.
It would do absolutely no good for me to run off
half cocked now. They were all gone, and until
Hawk got back to me with some concrete informa-
tion, I'd get no where by leaving here. But I had a
hunch I knew exactly where they had gone.
After awhile I went around behind the desk and
began looking through the drawers. There was lit-
tle other than the usual things found in desk
drawers, except in one which contained a Smith &
Wesson .38 police special, with a box of shells. The
pistol was loaded.
Atterbury's telephone index and appointments
book contained nothing other than Foundation
business as far as I could tell. But if Atterbury was
connected in some fashion with the Church of the
Final Reward, I didn't think he'd leave anything
incriminating lying around.
The telephone rang a few minutes later, and I
picked it up. "Yes?"
"l have some bad news for you, Nick," Hawk
said.
"I can guess:"
' 'Miss Staley, Stewart Atterbury, Robert Barnes
and Howard Stenger left Kennedy at noon for
Bogota, Columbia."
"Damn," I swore. I was afraid of that. "Have we
anyone down there who can intercept them at the
airport? I don't believe that's their final destina-
tion."
"We could get someone there in time," Hawk
said. ' 'But our relations with Columbia are so
strained now, an incident at the airport . . . if one
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. . . would be disastrous."
I
"Yes, sir," I said. ' 'I'm coming in. I'll leave for
the airport immediately. In the meantime, see if
you can come up with any IDs on Barnes and
Stenger. "
"They're both employees of the church," Hawk
said several hours later. I was seated across from
him in his office.
"That nails it,"
I said. "They'll be taking Pat
down to Brazil. Manaus, first, and then from there
to the church's holding farther up the Amazon. Do
we know its exact location?"
"l did some more checking this afternoon, Nick,
and I'm afraid there's more bad news."
I waited.
"The Brazilian government has withdrawn its
complaint against the church. One of their people
from their embassy stopped by at the State Depart-
ment earlier this morning and told them that it had
all been an unfortunate mistake. "
"Money talks," I said morosely.
"It gets worse,"
Hawk said. "The embassy
spokesman told our people that his government
would look dimly on any efforts by us to in any
way interfere with the lawful business of its citi-
zens. "
"The Reverend Franklin Knox, it seems, has
suddenly become a Brazilian citizen. "
"We can't just let this slide, sir," I said.
"Of course not," Hawk pressed a button on his
desk console.
"Do we know where the church's holding is lo-
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"Not exactly," Hawk said. "As far as anyone
knows it's located up the Amazon from Manaus.
Evidently somewhere in the vicinity of a river town
called Coari."
"They're ready for him now, sir," Hawk's secre-
tary said over the intercom.
"He's on his way down," Hawk spoke into his
desk unit. g 'I assumed that you would want to fol-
low this up."
I nodded. "When do I leave?"
"First thing in the morning. An Ozark flight to
Miami, then Pan Am to Caracas. I thought it
would be best to keep you away from Bogota.
From Caracas you're booked on a Varig Airlines
feeder flight directly into Manaus."
' 'If Knox has become a Brazilian citizen, the
church will probably have Manaus pretty well tied
up. I'll need a cover."
"They're waiting for you downstairs. You'll be
Roland Cartier, a French diamond dealer working
out of Amsterdam and New York City. There've
been persistent rumors of large diamond finds
farther up the Amazon and Negro Rivers. You've
come to scout out the territory for your firm."
"Roland Cartier," I said in a French accent, get-
ting to my feet.
"Good luck, Nick," Hawk said. "In the mean-
time we're going to keep a close watch on the peo-
ple from the list, as well as the church headquarters
in Chicago and their offices in New York."
Downstairs in Operations Readiness I was given
a crash course in diamond types and identification,
as well as the clothing and identification (including
a battered French passport) of Roland Cartier.
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My hair was cut in the European style, I was giv-
en •hoes with lifts to bring my height up nearly two
inches, padding to add forty pounds to my actual
weight, and a strong dye which changed my com-
plexion to that of a swarthy French Algerian of
about fifty. Thick glasses and a Paris designer suit
completed the transformation.
"Monsieur Cartier," the operations chief said,
stepping away from the floor length mirror.
I bowed slightly from the waist, clicked my heels,
and then went to the mirror. The change was startl-
ing. I didn't think even Pat would recognize me.
Certainly no one from the church would.
"Your only problem is going to be the heat. It's
summer there now, and damned hot. Because of
the padding, you won't be able to go around in
short sleeved shirts without a jacket."
"I'll manage," I said.
I remained at AXE headquarters that night, and
in the morning took a cab out to the airport for my
flight down to Miami with connections to South
America.
Manaus (or Manåos as the Brazilians called it)
was one thousand miles inland from the sea and
was actually on the Negro River, which joined with
the Amazon twelve miles downstream.
With a population pushing two hundred thou-
sand, the city was the capital of the Amazonas
Province and a port for ships of fairly high tonnage
that steamed all the way upriver from the ocean to
pick up rain forest products—mostly rubber.
It was big, dirty, bustling, and only two hundred
miles south of the equator, and therefore un-
believably hot.
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I wanted to stick around the airport to ask if
anyone had seen Pat, Atterbury and the other two
men show up here, but it would have been too
much of a risk that someone from the church
would find out that questions were being asked.
Instead, once I had cleared customs, I took a cab
into the city where I checked into a nice hotel
downtown.
I was given a room on the third floor, and from
my balcony I was able to look out over the city to
the docks and warehouses along the river.
The church had no interests in Columbia. It's
holding was here in Brazil, so it was a safe bet that
Pat and the others had already come this way and
were heading upriver by now.
Somewhere up the Amazon the Reverend
Franklin Knox held court. Coari was at least two
hundred miles upriver from here, and there was no
telling how much farther the church's installation
was. Or even where it was. But wherever, Pat and
Atterbury were there, or would be very soon.
I ordered up several bottles of cold beer and a
light supper from room service, and while I was
waiting for it, I stripped and took a long, cool
shower.
Just as I was pulling on my robe, the waiter came
with my order. I paid him, then went out on the
balcony where I sat down to catch what little
breeze there was.
The beer was ice cold and very good. I sipped it
slowly as I ate the sliced cold chicken and boiled
potatoes that had been sprinkled with vinegar and
salt and pepper.
There was no airport at Coari; the town was too
small for it. So Pat and others had to have left from
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here either by road or by river. I suspected they
were traveling on the river. The roads back into the
jungle would not be good.
A third possibility, however, was that the church
maintained its own runway at its camp. If that was
the case, they could have flown out of here.
But I didn't want to go back out to the airport.
I didn't want to attract any attention. When I
showed up at the camp, i wanted my presence to
come as a complete surprise.
When i was finished eating, I went back into my
room, retrieved my weapons from the luggage,
then got dressed in a lightweight summer suit.
Donning the glasses, I left my room, went down to
the lobby, and stepped out into the humid tropical
night.
From my room I could see the direction to the
waterfront, and I headed that way now on foot. I
took my time as if I was nothing more than a tour-
ist out for an evening's stroll.
The streets were busy with traffic, and the closer
I got to the river, the poorer the buildings became,
and the rougher the people standing around ap-
peared.
Within a couple of blocks from the river itself, I
could smell a number of rich odors, among them
mud, rotting wood, diesel oil from the ships, and
raw sewage.
Poor people were everywhere; garbage lay rot-
ting in thc streets, and on almost every street cor-
ner prostitutes leaned up against the buildings
scanning the passers-by for possible marks.
About a half a block up from the river, I entered
a bar that obviously catered to seamen. Just inside
the door I stopped a moment, and half the people
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in the crowded room turned to look at me. None of
them were smiling.
At the bar, the burly barkeeper came down to
me, and ordered a cognac plain in passable Portu-
guese with a slight French accent.
"On my mother's grave, the wog wants a cognac.
Plain," the barman bellowed.
Several of his customers laughed.
I smiled and adjusted my thick glasses, then
pulled out a hundred Cruzeiro note and slapped it
down. "Cognac, plain," I said loudly, this time
strengthening my French accent.
The barman, who was a full head taller than me,
scooped up the note, stuffed it in his pocket, and
then glancing at his friends, laughed, "You are in
the wrong place, Frenchman. Now you'd better
leave before you have an accident."
I adjusted my glasses again, pulled out another
hundred Cruzeiro note and laid it on the bar.
' 'Cognac. Plain!" I snapped.
The barman reached for the bill, but I grabbed
his hand, pinning it to the bar.
An instant hush fell over the room.
"With two hundred Cruzeiros, every man in this
bar should have a drink," I said.
The barman tried to struggle out of my grasp,
but I was stronger, and I began to bend his hand
backwards, putting a great deal of pressure on his
wrist. With my left hand I adjusted my glasses
again and smiled.
"It would be a shame if your wrist broke," I
said.
"Carlos," the barman shouted.
There was a sudden movement behind me. Keep-
ing my grip on the barman's hand, I stepped aside
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as an eighteen-inch-long billy club intended for my
head, crashed down on the bar.
I kicked out with my right foot, catching the
large, dark man in the groin, and as he started to
double over, I brought my knee up, catching him
full in the face.
He went down like a felled ox, blood spurting
from a broken nose, and I turned back to the bar-
tender, grabbed a handful of his shirt front with my
left hand, and dragged him half over the bar.
' 'A cognac, plain!" I barked. "And set everyone
else up with a drink Including yourself."
I let go of the bartender, shoving him back-
wards, then pulled out my Luger and slammed it
down on the bar.
"l came in here for a drink, and to find a man
with a boat who is willing to make some money. A
lot of money," I rattled in perfect Portuguese. "l
did not come for a fight, although if I am made
mad enough by you motherless whores, a fight is
what you will get."
The bartender, rubbing his wrist, quickly poured
me a large cognac and then set out a bottle of
cheap rum for the others.
I reached down and grabbed Carlos, pulling him
roughly up to the bar where I had to hold on to
him lest he fall. "Someone take care of this one," I
said.
Two men scurried up, grabbed the man, and
hustled him around the bar into a back room.
I drank my cognac down, and the bartender
poured me another. It was almost as if I was in
some kind of a western movie, but these people
were serious about it. What I had doneAvas the
only way to earn their respect.
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"You mention a boat, Senhor," the barman said
finally.
I nodded. "I wish to go up the Amazon."
"For what purpose .
. e" the barman asked, but I
slammed my fist on the bar
"Ten thousand for the proper boat and crew," I
said. "No questions asked."
I had everyone's attention.
'61 only meant to ask what kind of a boat would
you need? A speed boat, fast and powerful? A
cargo vessel? A tug?"
"A boat capable of traveling with speed and
comfort to Coari and beyond, returning with a
cargo. A small but very valuable cargo."
"And the nature of your cargo, Senhor?"
"Enough," I said. "No more questions." I
turned around to face the others who were staring
at me. "There may be some danger. But if we find
what surely we will find, I will double the amount
of money agreed upon."
"To Coari?" one of the seamen asked.
"And probably beyond."
He shook his head and slumped back in his seat.
The others did the same.
"Are you all motherless whores? Are you all
"You were right, Senhor, when you said there
would be danger," the bartender said from behind
me.
I turned to him.
"There have been government troops in and out
of that region for the past six months or longer."
"Why?"
"The Indians up there have been going crazy.
There have been deaths, always preceded by lights
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.2
in the sky." He shook his head sadly. ' 'It is not a
place to be. Coari, perhaps, but not beyond on the
river."
It was possible the church was up there, I
thought. They might have stirred things up just to
make sure they were not disturbed by their neigh-
bors.
"Then I will have to keep searching," I said,
turning once again. to the others, "until I find a
man. "
The comment stung, but for several seconds no
one made a move. I grabbed my second cognac,
drank it down, then slammed the glass on the bar
and started to walk out.
An older man with white hair and a huge stom-
ach got to his feet and shook his head.
"Do you want to leave this night, or will you
wait until morning?"
"You have a boat?"
He nodded.
"Then you will make her ready while I return to
my hotel for my things. We will leave within the
hour."
The other man turned to the bartender. "Luis,"
he said. "If word of this leaves this despicable es-
tablishment, I will return and slit your ugly throat
from ear to ear."
The bartender nodded solemnly.
"This way, Senhor." the fat man said. "I will
show you my vessel first, and we will have a drink
and talk. I will send someone for your things."
I grabbed my Luger, holstered it, then threw
down two more hundred Cruzeiro notes. "A drink
on me. And if word does leak out and this gen-
tleman doesn't return to slit your throat, I will."
NINE
The fat man's name was Pedro Arimå, and his
boat, the Romäno, was a forty-foot, shallow draft
river tug that was probably old and battered twen-
ty years ago. Now, looking at it, I had to wonder
what kept it afloat.
' 'A humble boat, Senhor, but one that will surely
do the job," Arimå said as we stepped off the
dock onto the deck.
It was quiet here. Warehouses lined the broad
wooden quay, and dozens of boats of every size,
shape and purpose were either tied up, or anchored
out in midstream. There didn't seem to be any ac-
tivity.
"Where is your crew?" I asked.
"Tomorrow is Sunday, of course, and they have
the day off. Only my cabin boy, Domingo, is here.
I will send him for your things."
He turned to go below, but I stopped him. When
he turned back his eyes were wide.
"1 offer you no harm, Captain Arimå, if you do
exactly as I have hired you to do. But if you play
any games with me, it will go very hard."
He nodded slowly.
"The others back there were afraid of the river
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above Coari. But not you. Why?"
"Oh, I am afraid, Senhor. Make no mistake of
that. It is just that this ancient vessel is in need of
repair. I am more afraid of losing her than I am of
whatever will occur on the river."
"Good enough," I said. "When we are finished,
I promise you there will be sufficient money to re-
pair your boat."
Arimå smiled and nodded. "I will fetch Domin-
go now to bring your things. When he returns we
will leave. "
I followed the man below, where he rousted a
young boy of ten or twelve. I gave him the name of
my hotel and room number and enough money to
pay my bill, and he hurried off the boat.
In the captain's pigsty of a cabin, Arimå
poured us both cheap rum in dirty glasses, and
when we both had taken a drink, he looked at me
over the rim of his glass.
"What then, are we searching for above Coari?"
"We will know when we get there," I said.
For a moment the man let it ride. ' 'You men-
tioned a cargo?"
"Yes," I said. "But nothing that will strain the
capabilities of this vessel."
"What I mean to ask, Senhor, is shall I call my
crew back? Will we need their muscle?"
I shook my head. 'S They won't be necessary. For
now I merely want to get to Coari, where I will
have to ask a few questions. After that I will tell
you more. "
"Coari is a very difficult town," Arimå said
hesitantly. "There may be trouble if you are not
careful."
"Trouble that you need not become involved
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in," I said. "How familiar are you with the river
above there?"
"I've been up it once, years ago, with my
father. "
"But not since then?"
He shook his head. "It is not a pleasant area.
There are Indians there—who do not like out-
siders."
"Then we will have to be careful," I said.
Domingo was back twenty minutes later with my
bags, and within five minutes we had slipped our
lines, and the aging diesel engine was pushing us
slowly downriver.
I sat up on deck cleaning my Luger and smoking
a cigarette, while Arimå was on the bridge above
me.
Away from Manaus, and the city lights, the
jungle closed in around us, although the river was
very wide here.
It was about twelve miles down the Negro River
before we came to its confluence with the Amazon,
and swinging wide, well -around the sand bars,
Arimå took us out into the middle of the Ama-
zon, and we started upriver.
There were a few ocean-going vessels anchored
out here, in the much larger river, for the first cou-
ple of miles, but later we left them behind, and
once again were alone.
The evening was hot and very humid. After I had
cleaned my gun and finished another cigarette, I
went below to my cabin and changed into some
lighter clothing, removing the padding I was wear-
ing as well as the thick glasses.
Apparently I had managed to get into Brazil and
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up the river without alerting the church or the au-
thorities. Once i started asking questions up in
Coari, my disguise would no longer matter any-
way.
Back up on deck, I climbed up into the wheel-
house. When I came in, Arimå glanced at me,
then did a double take.
"When this is all over," I said softly, "you will
forget that you have ever seen me."
"What are we after, Senhor, drugs?" he said. "If
that is so, I will turn around right now. I do not
want that kind of trouble."
"Not drugs," I said. "And nothing illegal."
"Then why the disguise," the man said fearfully.
"I will explain it later. For now your job is sim-
ply to get us to Coari."
Arimå was obviously troubled, but he had no
more questions for me. "We will be in Coari by
daybreak," he said. "Perhaps you should get some
rest."
"You'll manage all right up here alone?"
He nodded. ' 'Underway on the river, I never
sleep."
"I am a very light sleeper," I said evenly. "And
I would not take kindly to any kind of dis-
turbance.'.'
"You will not be disturbed, Senhor," Arimå
said. "You have my assurances."
I nodded, then went back down 'belowdecks to
one of the cabins, where I wedged my stiletto in the
door before I lay down.
With my right hand on my Luger, with the safety
catch off and a shell in the chamber, I fell asleep to
the sounds of the laboring diesel engine and the
water slapping against the bow.
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What seemed like minutes later, I awoke to the
sound of someone banging on my door. Sun
streamed through the small porthole over my
bunk.
"Senhor. . . Senhor, we are coming into Coari,"
Domingo was shouting.
"I'm up," I said in Portuguese, as I crawled out
of the bunk and holstered my Luger.
I slipped my stiletto out of the door, sheathed it,
and then opened the door. The young cabin boy
stood in the corridor, a steaming cup of coffee in
his right hand. He held it out to me, and I took it.
' 'The captain, he say you come up to the bridge
now. He must talk with you before we dock."
"Right," I said. I took a sip of the strong, black
coffee, then left my room, went up on the deck, and
climbed up to the wheelhouse.
Arimå, his eyes puffy and red rimmed, stood at
the wheel as he piloted the boat across the river
toward a collection of rough wooden docks, be-
yond which was a small, dirty looking town.
"Coari?" I asked.
Arimå seemed very worried. "We will tie up at
the public docks. But first I must know if there will
be trouble here."
There was a great deal of activity on the docks.
Large, flat-bottomed river boats were being loaded
with wood, rubber and other things. Nothing
seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing seemed
threatening.
I said. "I'm
"Stay aboard and get some rest,"
going into the town to ask a couple of questions. "
Arimå looked at me. "Please, now tell me what
we have come for."
"There is an American settlement someplace up-
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I
river from here. It is a religious settlement. A friend
of mine is there. I want to bring my friend back."
"Many North Americans are in Brazil, Senhor.
They run many of our rubber plantations. But a
religious settlement? I have not heard of such a
thing."
"It is here somewhere near. I will find out just
where, and we will go there."
"There will be trouble;" Arimå said. "I can feel
it in my bones. There will be trouble."
"Even more trouble for you if you are not here
when I come back. Do you understand?"
He nodded. "I will not leave you here, Senhor.
Of that you can be sure. But I do not want trouble
to fall on my head."
Domingo was down on the deck. And as we ap-
proached the public docks, I went down on deck
with him, and the two of us leaped up onto the
dock as we came in and tied the fore and aft lines
to the thick wooden bollards.
Arimå cut the engine and joined us on the dock.
Our arrival elicited absolutely no attention from
anyone on the busy dock. Workers, many of them
Indians, scurried back and forth pushing hand-
trucks loaded with bales and boxes.
"Is there no dockmaster here?" I asked.
"He will be around in his own sweet time,"
Arimå said. He reached out and touched my arm.
"Coari is not like Manaus," he said. "The people
here do not like gringos. They want to be left
alone."
"I only have questions," I said. "For which I will
get answers."
Arimå nodded. "And then we will go up the
river."
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116
"As I said before, there are Indians up there," he
said, waving his hand in the general direction up-
stream. "Some of them are so deeply back into the
forests, that they have seldom if ever seen a white
man. "
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"There are murderers up there. Cannibals. Even
our own government soldiers do not go back too
far."
"There are other river towns farther up," I said.
S' Yes," Arimå agreed. "Very small, and very
much more dangerous and isolated than even
Coari. For us to go up the river, we will have to be
very careful."
"We will go only as far as necessary, and stay
only so long as it takes me to pick up my friend."
Arimå nodded. "We will wait here then for
you. Be careful."
I said, and I walked down the
"Thanks,"
dock and strode past the warehouses and riverfront
offices, and then headed up into the town itself.
Coari was a town of about five thousand people.
And if Manaus had been poor and dirty, this town
seemed to be on the verge of starvation, with filthy
people everywhere.
Yet there was money here. Beyond the town, in
the low hills, there were some crops; and beyond
that, in the forests, there were great rubber planta-
tions.
Two blocks up from the docks was a village
square. The police station was on the far side, a
military Jeep parked out front with a soldier lean-
ing against it.
On the opposite side was a large Catholic
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church, and as I stood in the center of the square
by a fountain and the public well, the church doors
opened and freshly scrubbed peasants began filing
out.
Some of the people headed away from the square
up side streets, while others came across to the var-
ious shops and stores that were just now beginning
to open.
A very old man, wearing a priest's garb, had
stepped out on the front steps of the church and
was saying goodbye to his parishioners as they left.
I waited until everyone had left the church, then
started across.
The priest was turning to go back inside when he
spotted me coming across the square, and he
waited.
"Good morning, Father," I said mounting the
steps.
"Good morning, my son," the pnest said. "You
wish to speak with me?"
"Yes. Could we go inside?"
The priest looked beyond me, and I turned in
time to see two men in civilian suits coming out of
the police station. They got into the Jeep, the sol-
diers jumping in the front seat, and then they were
gone up a side street.
"Of course," the old priest said, and he turned
on his heel and entered the church.
I followed him up the aisle, where at the altar he
genuflected as he crossed himself, and then led me
to a small office to one side.
We sat down across a small table from each oth-
er in the dark, cool room. A young Indian girl
came in a moment later with glasses and a bottle of
wine.
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"You will drink with me?" the priest said.
"Perhaps you will have breakfast as well?"
"If it is not too much of a burden, Father," I
said. The church was obviously very poor.
He smiled and said something in a strange lan-
guage to the Indian girl, and she giggled and left.
I took a few hundred Cruzeiros from my pocket
and laid them down on the table. The priest looked
at the money and then started to object, but I held
him off.
"I am not paying for my wine and my meal,
Father," I said. "I do not mean to insult you that
way. But you give your people comfort; allow me
to help."
The priest smiled, then nodded. "As you wish,
Senhor," he said.
A minute or two later, the young Indian girl was
back with two bowls and wooden spoons, a pot of
thin soup, some bread, and several bananas that
had been sliced, fried in butter and then sprinkled
with brown sugar.
When she was gone, the priest poured us both a
glass of the deep red wine, and ladled out some of
the soup.
"You are a North American. Perhaps Boston?"
the priest asked as we ate. The food was rough, but
very good.
"Washington, D.C.," I said.
your nation's capital city," he said.
' 'Ah .
"You are many miles from your home, Senhor."
"l come seeking a friend."
The priest seemed amused. "A friend, you say.
You have no friends at home?"
"It's not like that, Father. My friend has come
down here. Against her will, I fear."
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"Kidnapped?" There was something in the old
man's eyes.
I nodded. "By the Church of.the Final Reward.
They have a camp near here. . . s" I let it trail off.
The priest had gone white. and his hand trembled
so badly he spilled some of his wine.
He put his glass down and got up. "You will
have to leave now," he said.
I got up. ' 'All I want to know, Father, is where
their camp is located."
The priest was shaking his head. "You will leave
now."
"I know it's somewhere upriver from here. But
you must tell me where. Exactly where. I need your
help."
"I cannot help you, Senhor. It is bad. Very bad
here for us."
"Then I will have to ask elsewhere. Someone
here in this town will be able to tell me," I said. I
turned and started to leave the room.
"Wait," the priest cried.
I turned back. "I am afraid for my friend and
others like her."
"I am afraid for my people as well," the priest
said. "If I tell you where . . . will you leave Coari
immediately this morning?"
"Yes," I said. "And no one will ever know where
I got my information."
The priest waved that off. "By now, everyone in
this village knows that you are here and have
spoken with me. When you leave upriver, they all
will know what you have learned here."
"If it would be better for me to obtain the infor-
mationelsewhere .. ."
He shook his head and motioned me back to the
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table. We both sat down, and he poured more
wine.
There was a small window that faced the west, in
the general direction of upriver. He glanced that
way and shuddered.
"Five years ago when they began that abomina-
tion, we all thought it was a fine thing they were
attempting to do," the priest began. He did not
look at me. "It was to be a place, far away from
worldly cares, troubles and temptations."
"A noble idea," I prompted after a silence.
The priest nodded sadly. "I thought as much.
But then the stories began."
"Lights in the sky at night?"
The priest looked sharply at me. "You have
heard some of the stories?"
"Only that, in Manaus," I said. '"And that gov-
emment troops had been sent up here."
"Yes, but only for a few days. It was the poor
Indians in the back country. They were killing set-
tlers and travelers on the river."
"Was that normal?"
"Not for the last hundred years. But within a few
months of the cult establishing its camp up there,
the Indians became frightened of the devil lights, as
they called them, and began hearing voices and
seeing visions, telling them to kill or be killed."
It was neat. The Indians kept everyone away
from the church's facility.
"The government sent troops up here, but they
left without doing a thing."
"Why did they leave so suddenly?" I asked.
The priest looked at me. "I do not know,
Senhor. I only know that this town, and everything
above, all the way to Tefé, is not safe."
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"Where is the camp?" I asked leaning forward.
"It is thirty miles from here. Up the Arauå
River, which flows into the Amazon not far away."
"The Arauå," I repeated. "Are there guards
there? Is the place like a military installation?"
The priest was shaking his head. "l do not know,
Senhor. I personally have never been there, nor will
I ever. But they would have no need of guards, in
any event. "
"Why?"
"The Indians control all that territory. No one
from Coari goes up the river nowadays."
I nodded, drank some of the wine, and then got
to my feet. "Thank you, Father, for your help."
"Will you then listen to one piece of advice, my
"Return to Manaus this morning. Leave here
and forget your friend."
I shook my head. "Too much has happened for
me to do that, Father. But thank you for your con-
cern. "
"Then may God go with you, my son the priest
said. He turned and left the room by a back door,
leaving me alone.
I stood there for a long moment before I turned,
went back through the church, and stepped out the
front door.
There were a great many people on the square
now. Many of the shopkeepers had set up tables
and booths outside, making the entire area seem
like a bazaar on a holiday.
No one was paying me the slightest attention,
but as I came down the steps and started across the
square, I got a funny feeling that I was being
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watched, and that everyone here knew exactly what
was going to happen.
Across from me, the army Jeep was parked once
again in front of the police station. The two sol-
diers stood there, smoking, watching the crowd.
A half a dozen brown-skinned Indians, razor-
sharp machetes stuck in their waist sashes, were
squatted down near the fountain, and as I passed
they looked up at me.
For an instant it seemed as if everyone on the
square held his or her breath, when suddenly the
Indians leaped to their feet, the machetes raised
over their heads, and they came after me.
I managed to sidestep the first one, slamming my
left foot into his shins, and he went down, but then
the others were nearly on top of me, and there was
no room for me to maneuver.
I took off in a dead run, threading my way
through the crowd, upsetting display tables and
booths as I ran, while behind me, the Indians
screaming wildly, took up the chase.
Circling around the square, I passed the soldiers
in front of the police station, and they were laugh-
ing as théy pointed at something happening on the
opposite side of the square.
A few seconds later I had ducked down the side
street that ran behind the warehouses on the dock.
As I continued to run, I pulled out my Luger.
I came around the last warehouse a minute later,
and the dock which had been busy earlier, was now
deserted, except for Arimå's boat, which was tied
up.
He and the boy, Domingo, were on the deck
looking out toward the river.
"Start the engine!" I shouted, fifty yards away.
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They turned around, and for an instant they just
stared at me.
"The engine!" I shouted again.
Then Arimå was scrambling up the ladder to
the wheelhouse as Domingo grabbed up a fireaxe
and hacked through the bow line.
I made it to the boat, and jumped aboard as the
engine came to life, and Domingo began hacking at
the stern line with the big fireaxe.
I spun around as the first of the Indians reached
us. One of them threw his machete, just missing
me, the long blade sticking into the side of the
boat.
Snapping off four quick shots, three of the Indie
ans went down. The fourth leaped off the dock,
slamming into me as we pulled away, the diesels
roaring.
We went down in a heap, my Luger jerking out
of my grasp, and for a few wild seconds I was fight-
ing for my life, the big Indian swinging his machete
wildly around my head.
Then I managed to flip him to the side, and as he
raised the machete overhead, I snapped a right
hook to his jaw. His head snapped back, and he
dropped the machete. I scrambled up, grabbed his
body, and heaved it over the side into the river.
A dozen townspeople had joined the Indians on
the dock, and they all were shouting at us, but we
were too far out into the river now for them to do
anything. It didn't seem as if any of them wanted to
give chase. They had tried to stop us, without suc-
cess, and now they were going to let us continue
upriver—very possibly to our deaths.
TEN
Ihe people still lined the public dock as Arimå
took us well out into the river, and then he began
to swing us in a big arc, bringing us with the cur-
rent so that we were heading downriver.
Domingo had come back to where I stood, and
wide-eyed, he began swabbing the blood off the
deck.
I tried to motion for Arimå to turn us back up-
stream, but he refused to look down at me. Quickly
I scrambled up the ladder to the wheelhouse, but
he had locked the door and would not look at me.
Pulling out my Luger, I stepped back, and hold-
ing on to the handhold, I fired one shot down at
the latch.
Arimå jumped away from the wheel as I
slammed the door open and stepped inside.
"Upriver, Captain," I shouted.
"No, no, Senhor, please. We will all be killed!"
' 'Then get off the boat here," I snapped, stuffing
the Luger back in its holster. I grabbed the wheel
and spun it hard to starboard, the boat sluggishly
responding.
Two small powerboats had pulled away from the
public docks and were starting across to us. By the
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time I had our boat headed back upstream, they
had come within a couple of hundred yards.
Arimå saw them the same firne I did, and he
came across to the wheel.
"I'll take it," he snapped. "There is a rifle behind
us in the locker!"
"Upriver," I said.
Si," Arimå said, angling away from the
two boats.
On the back wall of the wheelhouse was a large,
wooden cabinet, the open padlock dangling from
the hasp. I yanked it open. Inside was iHwelve-
gauge scatter gun and a very old Winchester 30-30.
There were a couple of boxes of shells in the bot-
tom of the cabinet.
I grabbed the double barrel shotgun and the box
of shells and hurried out of the wheelhouse, down
to the deck.
Domingo was standing at the rail staring at the
rapidly approaching boats. Each contained half a
dozen armed men.
"Go below!" I shouted.
Domingo looked at me with fearful eyes.
"Below!" I shouted, and the boy finally started
to move. "And stay there no matter what hap-
pens," I said.
I cracked the shotgun open, shoved two shells
into the barrels and snapped it shut.
The boats were less than fifty yards away when I
brought the shotgun up. One of them swerved aft,
so I leveled the barrels at the other boat and fired,
spraying the entire boat with buckshot.
Quickly I reloaded the shotgun, but the boat had
swung around and was heading back to shore. I
raced around to the port side of the wheelhouse
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just as the second boat was coming up to us.
When they saw me, three of the men started to
raise their rifles. Shooting from the hip, I fired both
barrels at less than ten yards.
Two of the men were knocked backwards out of
the boat; the third was driven backwards over one
of the seats, and the boat peeled off, accelerating
aft.
I watched them go, the two men in the water
sinking out of sight, a wide trail of red mingling
with the current.
They had meant to kill us, and I had acted in self
defense. But there would be no Brazilian court of
law that would agree with that. I was a foreigner,
and I had killed several Brazilian citizens, includ-
ing four Indians on the docks.
Getting up to the church's encampment was
turning out to be no picnic. But getting out of Bra-
Zil was going to be even tougher.
Around the other side of the wheelhouse Do-
mingo was standing in the doorway that led below,
a wide grin on his face.
The two boats were pulling up at the docks far
behind us now as we continued upriver.
"You take plenty good care of those sonsa-
the young boy said in En-
bitches all right,"
glish.
I stared open-mouthed at him for a long mo-
ment, and then had to laugh out loud.
"Domingo!" Arimå shouted from the open
door of the wheelhouse above.
"Si?" the boy said, stepping out on the deck and
looking up.
"Make us coffee and breakfast, you little
bastard," Arimå shouted.
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the boy said happily. He winked at me,
then turned and disappeared below.
I went back up to the wheelhouse where I put the
shotgun and shells away. "J don't think they'll
bother us anymore."
"Did you find out what you wanted to know?"
Arimå asked.
I joined him at the helm. About a mile ahead the
river branched left and right. "Yes," I said. "The
church's camp is about thirty miles away, up one of
the branch streams.'
Arimå looked at me. His complexion was wan.
"The Arauå," I said and he nodded.
"It's the left channel. Very bad."
"Why is that particular channel very bad?"
"It is not merely that one, Senhor. It is all of the
back channels. There is no one up them except for
the Indians." He shook his head. "Very bad. Very
bad. I will not go there."
"Yes you will," I said. "It will be daylight when
we go in there, and still daylight when we come
out."
"Are you so sure you will be able to convince
your friend to return with us?"
I grabbed his arm just above his elbow. "What
do you know about the church?"
"Nothing, nothing, I swear it."
I looked into his eyes. He was frightened, but I
didn't think he was lying. I let go of his arm and
looked at my watch. It was a few minutes after nine
A.M. We would probably make it up to the church's
camp around noon, if the old priest's directions
were correct and Captain Arimå didn't do any-
thing foolish.
After everything that had happened in Chicago
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and Washington, and now in Coari, there was no
doubt that the church was expecting me to show up
at their camp. But they also were aware, I was rea-
sonably certain, that I did not work for Amalga-
mated Press, and that I was a man not easily dis-
couraged.
I sat up on one of the tall pilot stools in front of
the forward windows as Arimå guided the boat
into the mile wide left channel, his knuckles white
where he gripped the wheel.
Whatever the church was expecting from me
now, I didn't think they expected me to show up on
their doorstep in the middle of the day, demanding
an interview with the Reverend Franklin Knox
himself. But that's exactly what I was going to do.
With any luck, my appearance with Arimå and
the boy would throw them off momentarily—at
least long enough for me to cee Pat, then get her
aboard the boat and get out of there.
After that would come the difficult part: getting
out of Brazil in one piece. I was sure there would be
a reception committee waiting for us near Coari.
"There are three channels leading back from this
one," Arimå said breaking into my thoughts.
W 'The Coari to the south, the Urucu in the middle,
and the Arauå to the north."
"We go north."
The river was still very wide here, but in the dis-
tance I could see where it narrowed dramatically,
swamp lands near the northern shores giving way
in the distance to forests.
"Is there no other way, Senhor?"
"No," 1 said.
A few minutes later Domingo came up to the
wheelhouse with a pot of coffee and a couple of
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I
mugs. Ile set the things down, went below, and
when he came back, he brought with him our
breakfast of eggs, small strips of beef and a flat,
tasty bread.
He took the wheel, and as Arimå and I ate, he
guided the boat toward the outfall of the Arauå,
still miles to the north, as the sun continued to rise
in the equatorial sky.
The Arauå was a narrow channel, barely a hun-
dred yards wide at most spots. But it was deep.
Domingo stood on the bow deck taking soundings
with a lead line, and calling up the depths to
Arimå, who guided the boat with one hand while
he hung out an open window.
I had cleaned and reloaded my Luger, loaded the
30-30 and the scattergun, and I sat now on the
samson post just forward of the wheelhouse.
"That's wrong," Arimå shouted down. Domin-
go turned around to look up at him.
"It is the reading, Captain," the boy said.
"Get up here and take the wheel."
Domingo shrugged, laid the lead line down, and
climbed up to the wheelhouse. A moment later
Arimå came down, grabbed the lead line and
heaved the sinker overboard.
The channel here was at least fifteen feet deep.
"What is it?" I asked.
Arimå turned to look at me, then glanced back
upstream. "I didn't think we would get this far," he
said. "This stream should not be this deep. Maybe
five or six feet, not fifteen."
I got up and joined him at the bow. "Could you
be mistaken?"
He shook his head. "No, Senhor, I am not mis-
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taken." Again he looked upriver. "This stream has
been dredged. It's been deepened to take large
boats."
"The church," I said half to myself.
"Must be a very rich, very powerful church,"
Arimå said. "A church that is doing some kind of
a business up here that requires a deep water ac-
cess. "
"How far yet?" I asked.
He shrugged. "We have come twenty-five miles
now. So if you were correct, and the church camp
was thirty miles from Coari, then we are close."
He coiled up the lead line, and as he was bending
over to drop it into a deck box, an arrow passed
over his head.
"Down!" I shouted. I dove aft, below the level of
the scuppers, a dozen arrows silently passing over-
head, two of them smacking into the side of the
pilot house with low twangs.
I grabbed the 30-30 and slid it up the deck to
where Arimå was lying on his belly, then grabbed
the scattergun.
Domingo had ducked down below the level of
the windows, and every now and then he peeked up
over the sill in order to steer the boat.
Another volley of arrows came in, this time sev-
eral of them crashing through the windows of the
wheelhouse, and the others smacking into the hull
of the boat.
As fast as the attack had begun, however, it
stopped. Except for the sound of the diesel engine,
there was silence.
I chanced a quick peek over the rail, but there
was nothing in sight other than the jungle that
closely lined both banks.
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Arimå still lay on his stomach, one hand clutch-
ing the rifle, his face buried in his other.
As I sat up, I looked up at the wheelhouse. Dom-
ingo stood there grinning.
"Did you see anything?" I called up to him.
"Nothing, Senhor," he said from the open win-
dow.
Arimå rolled over. He was shaking. "We will
turn around now and go back."
"No," I said, getting to my feet and scanning the
river banks on both sides. I had a fair idea why the
attack had come, but I couldn't understand why
they had given it up so fast.
"We go back now!" Arimå roared, getting to
his feet. "This is my boat, and I say where she
goes."
Ignoring him for the moment, I went aft and
looked downriver from where we had come. There
was nothing back there except the silent jungle.
Nothing. Why had they stopped so suddenly?
When I turned and went forward, Arimå was
climbing up to the wheelhouse, the 30-30 still
clutched in his left hand.
"If you try to turn back, I will shoot you," I said
evenly.
Arimå stopped and looked at me. I held the
shotgun loosely under my right arm, and I could
see that he was trying to judge whether or not I
really would carry out my threat.
His fear of the Indians won out.
"We will both do what we must," he said, and he
took the next step up.
' 'Goddammit," I swore, reaching out for the lad-
der when an arrow smacked into Arimå's left
shoulder.
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He cried out in pain, lost his footing on the lad-
der and half fell and half stumbled down on top of
me, both of us hitting the deck.
I scrambled out from under him, popped up over
the rail, and fired both barrels of the scattergun
into the forest, then ducked back down.
Arimå was screaming and crying in pain and
rage where he lay. The arrow had gone almost
completely through his shoulder, missing the
bones. He had to be in extreme pain, but he was in
no immediate danger of dying.
"Listen to me," I said to him. "You're going to
be all right. We'll get you some help."
"Poison," he cried, his eyes wild, spittle drooling
from his open mouth. "The arrows are poison."
"Senhor! Senhor!" Domingo called from the
wheelhouse.
I looked up. He was gesturing to something up-
river. Quickly I scrambled forward to where I had
left the shotgun shells on the deck near the samson
post, reloaded the gun, and popped up over the
rail, ready to fire. But I suddenly stopped, my
breath catching in my throat.
We had come around a gentle curve in the
stream that suddenly opened to a huge lagoon that
had to be several thousand yards across.
On the far shore was a long, modern steel and
cement quay, several powerful looking boats tied
up there, and at least a hundred people all wearing
long flowing white robes lining the dock.
Inland, a huge area had been cleared from the
jungle, and in place of the trees and dense under-
growth, a small, but very modern town had been
constructed.
There was a wide mall leading up from the
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docks, and from where I knelt looking over the
rail, I could see well tended flower beds and care-
fully planted trees and fountains up the middle of
the mall, with numerous stores and shops on both
sides.
An ultra modern church of glass and steel, in the
form of a highly stylized pyramid, dominated the
far end of the small town from a small rise. Behind
it was some sort of a wide field ringed by bleachers.
The effect of the buildings, of the dock and of
the people, many of them waving now as Domingo
headed the boat their way, was stunning.
The place was beautiful.
I stood up as Domingo throttled down, the boat
easing the last twenty yards.
Several men, also clad in the white robes, were
coming down the mall toward the dock in a dead
run. One of them was carrying a black doctor's
bag.
Arimå was still crying and cursing where he lay,
and this close in now, many of the people waiting
on the dock could hear him, and they appeared to
be deeply concerned. Almost fearful.
Domingo closed in on the dock, expertly throw-
ing the boat in reverse at the proper moment, so
that we just nudged the soft timber fenders.
Several men from the dock scrambled aboard,
one of them stepping respectfully past me, and
tossed lines over to where others tied us up.
As the diesel engine died, the men who had come
down from the mall came aboard, and the one with
the doctor's bag immediately tended to Arimå,
giving him a shot of something before he ordered
two of his assistants to carry the captain off the
boat.
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"Be careful with him, Brothers," the doctor said.
Gently they lifted Arimå off the deck and care-
fully carried him across the dock and up the mall.
The doctor closed his bag and came forward to
where I still stood, the shotgun cradled under my
right arm.
He stuck out his hand. "I'm Doctor Bernard
Wilcox, originally from Buffalo, New York."
I shook his hand. A silence had descended over
the gathering as everyone watched us.
"I think you already know who I am," I said
evenly.
The doctor smiled. "Indeed, Mr. Carter," he
said. "You've caused us no end of trouble, you
know, but Brother Knox is a forgiving man."
"Is that why he's tried to kill me?"
A sigh rippled through the crowd.
"No one has tried to murder you, Mr. Carter."
"And the fire?"
A dark expression crossed the doctor's face.
"The two . . . renegades who did that have been
excommunicated. In fact, Brother Knox wants to
personally apologize for that unfortunate incident.
We were so happy and relieved when we learned
that neither you nor Miss Staley were seriously in-
jured. "
"Is she here now?"
The doctor smiled again. He seemed almost like
an animated cartoon character, and he was starting
to get on my nerves.
"Indeed. She came last night. She's anxious to
see you as well. When she heard you were coming,
she was beside herself with excitement."
"Fine," I said. "As soon as you have patched up
Captain Arimå, please send her down here, and
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I
we will leave you alone."
"Heavens no. Brother Knox would skin me alive
if I didn't insist on extending the hospitality of Re-
ward. "
"Reward?"
He chuckled. "That is the name of our village
here in the forest. Hostile on the outside, but a gen-
uine 'Reward' once you arrive: '
"A half hour," I said.
The doctor stepped forward and reached for my
arm, but I backed up and raised the shotgun, point-
ing it at his midsection.
"I'm in no mood for your silly bullshit, Doctor,"
I snapped. "I want Miss Staley down here within a
half an hour."
The doctor almost seemed to be on the verge of
tears. "Oh dear," he said. He looked over toward
the others on the dock. "One of you good people
go fetch Sister Staley. Tell her Mr. Carter has ar-
rived and would like to speak with her."
When he turned back to me, he shook his head.
('Now, off this boat,"
I snapped. "We'll be
leaving shortly. Have your people bring Captain
Anmå back as well."
Domingo stepped halfway out of the wheelhouse
door. "Senhor," he called down to me.
I glanced up at him. "Get the boat ready to
leave."
The boy shook his head. "We do not have the
fuel to return, Senhor," he said.
"We can give you fuel," the doctor interjected.
"Now!" I snapped.
The doctor turned to the people on the dock.
"Would someone be so kind as to refuel this
vessel. "
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135
Two men broke away, crossed the dock and en-
tered one of the buildings.
"I'm sorry that you cannot find it in your heart
to remain, at least for a day or two. Brother Knox
had planned a dinner tonight and tomorrow will be
a festival of the Lights For Departing Souls."
' 'Nick!" someone shouted my name.
I looked up as Pat, wearing one of the white
robes, came bounding down the mall toward us.
She seemed excited, and . .
. happy.
The crowd on the dock parted to let her pass,
and I was stepping past the doctor to help her
aboard, when something sharp and very hot
pricked my neck just below my left ear.
Almost instantly a roaring began to fill my ears,
and I could hear Pat shouting my name.
I spun around on my heel, bringing the shotgun
to bear on the doctor. But he reached out, grabbed
the barrel, and easily twisted the gun out of my
hands.
Staggering back I grabbed for my Luger, but I
couldn't seem to make my fingers work, and the
doctor's smiling face seemed to expand overhead,
while Pat kept calling my name and laughing.
ELEVEN
1
I awoke rested and relaxed minutes or hours lat-
er. I was lying nude on my stomach on a padded
table of some sort, while soft, but strong hands
massaged the muscles in my shoulders.
For a minute or two i just lay there, my head
turned to one side. From what I could see, I was in
a large, airy room. Windows high up on the wall let
in the afternoon Brazilian sun. And somewhere be-
hind me I could hear water splashing and smell the
rich odors of plants.
"I'm so happy you are awake finally, Mr.
Carter," a woman said behind me.
I turned my head and looked up. My masseuse
was a beautiful young woman with long, red hair
and freckles all over her body. She was nude, the
nipples on her small breasts hard, and her lips
slightly parted as she smiled at me.
"How long have I been here?" I asked thickly.
Whatever drug I had been shot with made it dif-
ficult to speak. It was as if I was still half asleep.
"Several hours,"
the girl said. "Can you roll
over now? I'll do your front."
The girl helped me roll over on the table , and she
began working immediately on my shoulders, and
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then on the muscles of my chest.
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' 'What is this place?" I asked after a minute or
two.
"The Palace of Pleasure," she said. '%And my
name is Charlene."
Knox had quite a setup down here. His own
personal kingdom, with all the comforts, and
more, of home. "The man and boy I came with.
Where are they?"
"Oh, they're just fine, Mr. Carter. Little Domin-
go is playing with the other children, and Captain
Arimå is resting at the Clinic."
"Where is Pat Staley?"
' 'Sister Staley is getting ready for our dinner to-
night," Charlene said gaily. ' 'It will be a lovely din-
ner. And afterwards there will be the festival of
lights. It'll be wonderful, you'll see."
I was beginning to come fully awake, my head
finally clearing. And I looked closely at the young
woman. Her eyes were wide and dilated. She was
on drugs. There was no doubt about it. Probably
everyone down here was.
"l want to see her," I said.
"See her?" Charlene asked. "Who?"
"Pat Staley. I want her to come here now."
Charlene giggled. "Oh no, she does not work
here in the Palace of Pleasure. There are only a few
of us in the guild."
I sat up on the table, brushing her hands away.
The room spun a moment as the girl stared open-
mouthed at me.
"I'm not finished yet, Mr. Carter," she said.
please lie down and let me finish."
"Please . . .
"We're done," I said. I got down off the table,
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and she had to help me for a moment as the room
spun again.
"You're not ready yet," she said.
"Where are my clothes?"
' 'There are fresh robes for you when we are fin-
ished—"
' 'My clothing, Goddammit!" I shouted. I
grabbed herarm and pulled her to me. "Where are
my things?"
She was shaking her head. "I don't know. You
were brought here to me, like .
. this. "
I shoved her aside and went across the room to
a low, wide bed set amidst a riot of green plants
that grew in some places as high as the tall, slanted
ceiling. A white robe and sandals were laid out for
me, and I quickly put them on.
"Oh please . . .
please Mr. Carter, you can't
leave here," Charlene was crying.
Ignoring her, I went across the room, down a
wide, plant-filled corridor and out the front door.
The building I had been in was huge, a broad
porch running its length. Several men and women
lay asleep on lounges, while white-robed atten-
dants massaged their temples or fanned them.
Charlene had pulled on a robe and she came out
behind me. "Please come back, Mr. Carter.
Brother Knox will be so displeased if you won't
accept our hospitality."
"Where is the Clinic?" I said.
"Why do you want to go there?"
"l want to speak with Captain Arimå."
"If I take you there, will you come back with
me?"
I looked at the girl. "After I see the captain, I
want to speak with Pat Staley. And then I may
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come back here with you."
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A couple of the other attendants had looked up,
and they started toward us.
Charlene waved them back. "It is all right, Sis-
ters," she said. She took my arm and guided me
down off the porch and across the mall, the huge
church behind us to the right, the river and docks
below to the left.
Music was playing from somewhere, and there
were several people out and around on the mall,
some of them wandering past the many fountains,
others seated at pleasant-looking sidewalk
cafés.
We crossed the mall and went up to a large,
hite building without windows that was just
low the church.
"Captain Arimå is here," Charlene said.
We mounted the steps and entered the building.
ust inside the front door was a very large room
ith a desk and several medical equipment cabi-
ets at the far end. To the right were four machines
sed to air-inject drugs into patients' arms. They
ere lined up in four columns, and I suddenly un-
erstood just how Knox and his henchmen kept
e people down here so docile. Probably on a dai-
y basis, every man, woman and child was marched
n here and given a dose of some kind of a tran-
uilizer.
We went across the room to the left and went
hrough a set of double doors down a wide cor-
idor that opened onto a small, four bed dis-
ensary.
An old man lay in one of the beds, and Arimå
ay in another, his shoulder bandaged. He was
sleep.
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"There is the captain," Charlene said. "Now can
"Just a minute," I said. i went across to Arimå
and gently shook him awake.
He blinked several times until he finally focused
on my face. "Senhor," he said thickly.
' 'How do you feel?" I asked, keeping my voice
low. There were no medical staff in here at the mo-
ment, but Charlené stood by the door watching
me.
"Fine . . .
fine," Arimå said. "Are we leaving
"Soon," I said. "Do you think you can travel?"
"Sure .
. sure, tomorrow perhaps. Or maybe
next week." He smiled vacantly. They had him on
the drug, whatever it was.
"I'm coming back for you," I whispered. "To-
night. "
"Mr. Carter, can we go now please?" Charlene
asked from the doorway.
Arimå's eyes closed, and he smiled as I straight-
ened up and went back to Charlene.
'61 want to see Pat Staley now," I said. "And
then I will go back with you."
"I can't take you to her. You will have to go
back to the Palace of Pleasure, and I will bring her
to you."
"All right," I said. "And I'll want my watch and
my clothes and my other things brought to me."
"I will try, Mr. Carter," the girl said.
We went down the corridor, across the large
room and back outside. It seemed to be about four
or five in the afternoon, and it was very hot. As we
walked across the mall, back to the Palace of Plea-
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sure, I looked down toward the docks. I could see
Arimå's boat still tied up where we had left it, and
I just caught a glimpse of a flash Of white in the
wheelhouse, but then it was gone.
There was someone aboard the boat. The Rev-
erend Knox was not going to let us out of here
without a fight. And I was not going to leave with-
out Arimå and the boy, as well as Pat.
Back in the Palace of Pleasure, Charlene and I
went back to my room. "Promise that you will re-
main here, and I will get Sister Staley."
"And my things," I said.
She nodded and then turned and left. As soon as
she had disappeared around the corner, I hurried
to the tall, padded table and shoved it over next to
the wall just below one of the tall windows that
faced the mall.
I climbed up on the table and was just barely
able to see outside. I watched as Charlene emerged
from the building and went across the mall, then
cut down toward the river.
She entered a long, low building.
"I'm glad to see that you are feeling better, Mr.
Carter," a man said behind me.
I spun around. Michael Seidelman, wearing a
white robe, sandals on his feet, stood grinning in
the doorway.
"Sister Anderson will be back in a minute or two
with Sister Staley," he said. "Why don't you come
down from there."
I jumped down from the table as Seidelman
came across to me. He held out his hand, but I
ignored it.
"A slick setup you have down here," I said.
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"Why did you come here?"
"For Pat Staley," I snapped. "And I will take
her back with me."
"For the moment you are in no position to do
much of anything, Mr. Carter."
"I could kill you here and now with my bare
hands," I said in a low voice.
Seidelman laughed, but it had a false ring. "And
then what? Your boat captain is in no shape to be
of much help. The boy is happy here . . . it's para-
dise to him. And you'll be very much surprised
when you speak with Sister Staley."
"You've given her the tranquilizer," I said.
Something flashed in Seidelman's eyes, but he
shook his head. "We've given her nothing but the
facts of life."
"And Atterbury?"
"Him too, although he did help convince Sister
Staley of the truth."
I was dressed in nothing more than a robe and
sandals; I had no weapons, and I was still suffering
slightly from the after effects of the drug I had been
shot with. There wasn't much I could do. At least
not at the moment.
"You understand that I work for the
Amalgamated Press and Wire Services, and that
my people know exactly where I am."
"l understand that you may work for the news
service, although I have my doubts," Seidelman
said. "But I do not have any doubts that if any-
thing happened to you here, there would be others
after you. So, nothing will happen to you, Mr.
Carter. At least not here."
Charlene came to the doorway with Pat Staley.
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They stopped a moment when they saw Seidelman
was here.
"Nick?" Pat said.
"I want to be alone with her,"
I said to
Seidelman.
He looked at his watch. ' 'It's five-fifteen now. At
six-thirty sharp Charlene will return and you and
Miss Staley will join us for dinner. Brother Knox is
most anxious to speak with you."
"And afterwards?"
"That will depend upon you, Mr. Carter. If af-
ter speaking with Brother Knox you still want to
leave us, you will be escorted by boat back up to
the Amazon, just above Coari. From there you will
be on your own."
Seidelman turned, went across the room where
he took Charlene's arm, and they left.
Pat was smiling, her face radiant. Like the oth-
ers, she was dressed in a white robe, sandals on her
feet. Her hair had been done up in the back, and
she wore a small gold medallion on a headband.
She came slowly across the room to me, and
took her in my arms and held her close for a long
time.
When she looked up, we kissed deeply, her body
pressed against mine.
"l missed you, Nick," she said when we parted.
"I wanted to leave you a message, but I was told it
would be for the best if we parted cleanly."
' 'How are you, Pat?" I asked.
She smiled again. "Just fine now that you're
here, Nick." She looked over at the wide bed, then
up again into my eyes. ' 'We have time now. Let's
make love."
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"I'm taking you back with me tonight," I said.
She took my hand and led me across the room to
the wide bed.
"Do you understand what I'm saying to you,
Pat? We're' leaving tonight."
"All right,"
she said offhandedly. Her eyes
seemed too bright, but her behavior too lethargic.
It didn't seem as if she was on any drug at the mo-
ment, and yet she wasn't herself.
She stepped back and pulled off her robe. She
was nude underneath, her body firm and lovely.
She stepped out of her sandals, then lay down on
the bed.
"Come to me, Nick. Now. Please. I need you."
I took off my robe and sandals and joined her on
the bed. Languidly she snuggled closer to me, her
legs entwined with mine as she caressed my chest
and nibbled on my ear.
"This room is bugged, Nick," she said so softly
I could barely hear her words.
I drew her even closer and kissed her neck. "Are
you all right?"
"They had me on the drug," she whispered. "I
was busy with the banquet preparations today, and
I managed to get out of taking mine at noon."
She moaned, rolled over on her back, and pulled
me atop her. When I entered her, she moaned
again, burying her face in my neck.
"Atterbury is in on it. They drugged me at his
house and then brought me down here. I've signed
a will leaving everything to the church."
We were making love then, and her last words
were slurred as she began to respond in earnest.
For the moment, then, we lost ourselves in each
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other, forgetting where we were and the trouble we
were in.
When we were finished, we showered together in
a small stall, and then slipped into a large hot tub
set across the room from the bed.
She came to me in the tub, and we clung to each
other as if in a loving embrace, which was partly
true. "Can you get us out of here?"
"Do you think you can find my clothing and my
weapons?" I whispered.
"No," she said. "Some of Karsten's men-—he's
head of security along with Seidelman—have your
things up at the church. No one can get near the
place except those on church business."
"Are there any guards here with guns?"
"None that I've seen. But we've all been told not
to wander away from the town, especially at night.
The Indians here are cannibals."
I tried to think this out. Arimå's boat would be
far too slow, and Domingo had said it was low on
fuel anyway. That meant I was going to have to
take one of the church's boats. There were a couple
of them tied up at the docks that looked sleek and
very fast.
Getting down there with Pat, Arimå and the
boy, however, was not going to be easy. It was a
certainty that Seidelman, Karsten, and their goons
would be watching out for just that.
"What's going on tonight?" I asked.
"There's supposed to be a big banquet of some
sort to celebrate the new arrivals
me in-
cluded."
"Where?"
"l don't know. Up in the church, probably.
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NICK CARTER
That's where everything of importance around
here takes place."
"What about the field? I saw it on the way in. It
looked like a sports stadium. What's it used for?"
"I don't know," she said. "But it has something
to do with the festival of the Lights of the Depart-
ing Souls, which is also going to happen later to-
night, and then something really big is supposed to
happen tomorrow night. But no one does much
talking about that, and I'm afraid if I ask too many
questions, they'll realize I didn't take my tran-
quilizer."
"All right, Pat, we'll be getting out of here soon.
Probably tonight. But try to avoid your drug
tomorrow if we can't get out of here by then. And
be ready at a moment's notice to run."
"I'm frightened, Nick," she said, holding on to
me tightly. "And I keep thinking about Don."
"We'll get out of here, Pat. I promise you."
Charlene came back forty-five minutes later as
Pat and I were drying off and dressing. She
apologetically held out my watch, my cigarettes
and my lighter.
"This was all I could get for you, Mr. Carter,"
she said.
I took them and strapped on my watch and lit
myself a cigarette. "Thanks anyway for trying," I
said.
Charlene turned to Pat. "You're to go back to
the dormitory. Sister Therese is waiting for you
there. We all have to get ready for the banquet."
She seemed excited.
Pat nodded, lowering her eyes, but then she
looked up at me, a dull, vacant expression on her
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147
face. "Are you sure, Nicholas, that you will not
stay here with us in Reward?"
"I'll think about it," I said. "But I'd rather you
return home with me."
Pat slowly shook her head. "This is my life now,
my darling. I am one with the Final Reward." She
turned and glided out of the room.
"Sister Staley is a lovely woman," Charlene said.
"So are you," I said gently.
The girl blushed. "I must' return to the
dormitory to make ready. Brother Michael will be
by momentarily for you."
She turned and left the room.
I went back to the bed where I strapped on my
sandals, and when I turned around, Seidelman was
standing in the doorway. He was wearing a long
white robe with gold trim at the neck and hem and
a gold sash around his middle.
His right hand was in a deep pocket. He pulled
out my Luger slowly and pointed it at me. "An
ugly, but deadly weapon I am told," he said.
"It's given me good service."
"l merely wanted you to know that I am armed,
and I will not hesitate to use it if I find the necessity
arises. In addition, my people will be closely watch-
ing you throughout the banquet. The slightest
wrong move on your part will result in your imme-
diate death. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
"Will I get to meet Brother Knox?" I asked.
"Of course. You will be seated right next to
him."
'SAren't you afraid I might attack him?"
Seidelman laughed out loud. "Not in the
slightest," he said.
TWELVE
Seidelman followed me out of the Palace of Plea-
sure and directed me up the hill toward the ultra
modern church building. Many people were walk-
ing slowly up the mall toward the huge doors at the
front of the building, some of them in small
groups, some of them in long, almost military lines,
but none of them singly.
It was noticeably cooler now, and the sun was
low on the western horizon. It got dark fairly early
on or near the equator, which was just as well, I
thought. Whatever was going to happen, would
probably happen tonight. Darkness would give us
needed cover.
Near the top of the hill I was able to spot a
number of security men with their hands in their
pockets. They circled the crowd and flanked the
doorway. All of them were watching me.
As we passed, they nodded at Seidelman still be-
hind me, and then we were up on the broad, marble
step that led to the entrance.
The church was at least two hundred feet on a
side and probably a hundred and fifty feet tall at
the peak. Just inside the main doors, the crowd was
moving through a broad hallway, down a wide cor-
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149
ridor, and into the main chamber at the center of
the pyramid.
As Seidelman and I emerged from the corridor,
I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching in my
throat.
The vast hall was magnificent. A latticework of
steel beams and sharply angled sheets of plate glass
and mirrors rose in a complex array from about
thirty feet above the floor all the way up to the
peak. Long, curved banquet tables set with crisp
linen tablecloths and silver service, formed huge
arched tiers, all facing toward a raised dais at the
center, upon which was set a single long table that
slowly rotated.
At the far end of the hall, a twenty-piece or-
chestra was playing what sounded like Debussy,
the music barely competing with the hum of a
thousand voices in the packed church.
"It's wonderful, isn't it," Seidelman said at my
elbow.
I glanced at him. "With money you can do
almost anything," I said.
"If you'd only stick around for a day or two,
you'd see just how true that is."
' 'No thanks," I said.
"A pity," Seidelman replied, and we moved off
across the hall toward the raised dais. "You'll be
seated directly next to Brother Knox, on his left
side. I'll be right next to you, the Luger under the
table. "
We were stopped repeatedly by people who
wanted to say hello to Seidelman, and by others
who were frankly curious about me.
At one point I thought I had spotted Pat seated
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1
with a number of other women, but when I looked
again, I couldn't see her.
Seidelman escorted me up on the dais, and to a
seat at the table. The center chair, the one Knox
would be sitting in, was tall, gracefully curved and
made of transparent plastic or glass. It didn't
match anything else in the hall and seemed oddly
out of place.
I sat down, Seidelman taking his place next to
me, and immediately a young woman appeared at
the front of the table and poured us both cham-
pagne.
Seidelman's associate, Larry Karsten, came up
on the dais, nodded at us, and took his seat a cou-
ple of chairs down from the center. A moment lat-
er, Pat, escorted by two women, came down one of
the aisles and stepped up on the dais.
I started to get up, but Seidelman stopped me.
"Another half inch off your chair and there
wouldn't be a thing I could do to save you," he
said.
"Hello, Nicholas," Pat said. She sat down in the
chair just to the right of Knox's. Champagne was
poured for her, and she picked up the glass and
sipped, ignoring me.
She was doing the right thing. If any of them got
wind of the fact that she had not taken her tran-
quilizer, they'd force her to take it.
But seeing her here, seated next to Knox's posi-
tion, gave me the shivers. I knew exactly what was
planned for her.
Gradually the last of the people filed into the
hall, took their places, and a silence began to de-
scend, broken only by the lovely strains of the mu-
sic.
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151
Looking out across the crowd, I could see that
everyone seemed expectant, as if they were waiting
for something spectacular to happen. Even
Seidelman had the same look on his face, as he
hunched slightly forward in his seat.
I was about to ask him about it, when the or-
chestra broke off its playing, sounded a drum roll,
and every light in the vast hall went out, plunging
us into total darkness.
Immediately I felt the barrel of the Luger
jammed into my side. "Do not move a muscle,
Carter," Seidelman's voice came from the dark.
An eerie, high-pitched keening sound began
from somewhere directly overhead, rising slowly in
pitch and volume so that the sound seemed to fill
the entire hall.
About the moment it became unbearable it sud-
denly ceased, and a blindingly bright blue light
came on, illuminating the Reverend Franklin
Knox seated regally on his modernistic chair.
A sigh rippled through the crowd, and as they
began to applaud, lights came on directly over each
table, including ours.
The applause swelled to a thunder, and people
began cheering and screaming and whistling. I
couldn't help but stare at Knox. There was some-
thing wrong with his image. At first I thought it
was my eyes, or the harsh blue light that caused his
figure to waver.
Pat was staring at him as well, and suddenly I
realized what was wrong, and why Seidelman had
not been concerned with the fact I would be seated
so close to him. Knox was not here. What we all
were looking at was a holographic projection of his
image.
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I glanced up toward the area just above him.
There was a strong blue light. Behind him there
was another light, and from the floor a third light
shown through the chair.
Knox was somewhere else seated at a table that
matched this one. Totally protected.
His image turned toward me, and he smiled, the
gesture totally devoid of humor or warmth. His
eyes seemed to glow with a deep red light, and his
skin was cast in a pale blue pallor.
"Welcome to Reward," he said, his voice boom-
ing powerfully across the hall.
Instantly the thunderous applause ceased, plung-
ing the vast hall into absolute silence.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Brother
Knox," I said evenly.
Knox laughed, the sound booming. 'S This, my
brother in sin, is merely a way station on the long,
arduous road to the final reward." He turned to
look out over his audience that was hanging on his
every word. "Tonight we will dedicate this banquet
to all the lost souls of this world who have yet to
see the light. To all the avarice and mendacity, to
all the pestilence and famine, to all the wars and
money mongers, who can be saved if only they
would reach out their hand for salvation." He
reached out his hands, as if he was beseeching his
congregation. "Will you be saved?" he cried.
"Yes!" the crowd roared.
"Will you be saved?" Knox screamed louder.
"Yes .
oh yes, Brother Knox, we will be
saved!" the audience screamed.
' 'Then join me in our feast. Join me in the festi-
val of the lights tonight. Join me in a day of fasting
on the morrow. And join me, Brothers and Sisters,
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for the celebration of the Final Reward!"
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At least three dozen white-robed waiters and
waitresses seemed to appear out of nowhere, and
began serving food and more wine to the throng.
Two young women served our table, neither of
them approaching Knox, who sat there looking
over his congregation.
It was a great show, I had to admit. And I sus-
pected that no one down on the main floor could
tell that Knox wasn't really there, that his image
was nothing more than a technological trick of
electronics.
From time •to time Knox sipped at a glass of
wine, but he never looked right or left. He kept
staring out across the hall as the dais continued to
slowly rotate.
Twice I managed to catch Pat's eye, but each
time she just nodded at me vacantly, then went
back to her meal.
The orchestra had started up again, and there
was a low hum of conversation and occasional
laughter. I just picked at my food which consisted
of oysters on the half shell, an excellent French on-
ion soup, a fresh spinach salad, pheasant and wild
rice, but I drank a second glass of the good wine,
and then sat back with a cigarette.
About two hours after the banquet had begun,
the orchestra again stopped playing, and a drum
roll sounded. A silence fell, and the same eerie
high-pitched sound began. The lights went out,
leaving Knox's figure starkly illuminated. He
waved.
"Let the festival of the lights begin in one hour,"
his voice boomed, and then he was gone, the hall
completely dark until the house lights came up
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slowly to more applause.
Seidelman pushed back his chair and got up as
the people down on the main floor began leaving.
I got to my feet. "I'd like to speak with Pat for a
moment," I said.
Seidelman nodded, and I turned and went
around Knox's chair to where Pat was still seated.
Karsten had gotten up. He glared at me and then
moved off as I bent down to kiss Pat's neck.
"l know where you're staying. I'll try to come
for you late tonight."
She looked up at me and giggled, a vacant ex-
pression in her dilated eyes. They had gotten to
her. They had discovered she had not taken her
tranquilizer.
"What did ygu say, Nicholas?" she asked.
Christ. "I said, it was a lovely dinner."
"l'm so glad you enjoyed it," she said.
I shook my head and sighed deeply as I straight-
ened up. It would have been difficult getting her
. out of here with her cooperation. Now the task was
going to be next to impossible.
Seidelman was waiting for me at the edge of the
dais, and I went over to him.
"What's on the agenda now?" I asked.
"Brother Knox would like to speak with you, in
person, in his quarters before the festival of lights
begins."
"An exclusive interview?"
"Something like that," he said. He stepped down
from the dais, and I followed him to the back of the
hall, several of his henchmen coming right behind
us.
We went through a wide door, down a plushly-
carpeted, softly-lit corridor, and then into an
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elevator that went up rapidly, emerging from the
sloping side of the pyramid and through the floor
of a large projection from the building.
The doors opened on the most opulent suite of
rooms I had ever scen in my life. I had been to
Paris and Monte Carlo, to Berlin and Rome, and
to Buenos Aires and Mexico City, but never had I
ever seen anything to match Knox's living quar-
ters.
Gold icons, fine paintings, soft leather furniture
and what appeared to be a carpet sewn of mink and
ermine filled the apartment, whose back wall was
clear glass from floor to ceiling, looking over the
sports stadium and the jungle beyond.
Knox himself, a brandy snifter in hand, stood
with his back to us, looking out the windows. Peo-
ple were already filling the stadium, and he was
nodding as he watched them.
He was a very tall man, nearly seven feet, with a
husky build and a thick shock of black hair.
"Be so kind as to pour Mr. Carter a drink,
Brother Michael, and then leave us," Knox said.
Seidelman complied, returning to me with a
brandy snifter of what tasted like a fine cognac,
and then he and the guards stepped back onto the
elevator and were gone.
"Is it really you?" I asked. "Or another clever
projection."
Knox turned toward me. "You have caused me
no end of trouble, Mr. Carter. Or would you prefer
to be addressed by your alpha-numeric designation
. N3, I believe it is."
I was momentarily stunned. There were damn
few people in the world who had that information,
outside of AXE.
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"Killmaster status, I believe," Knox was saying.
"Curious. '
Then I understood where he had gotten the in-
formation. From Pat. And suddenly a deep, very
dark anger began to well up inside of me. They had
her on tranquilizers. But what other drugs had they
used on her to obtain that information? What had
they done to her mind?
"You would like very much to kill me at this
moment, but it would be of no avail, even if you
could accomplish it."
I took another sip of the cognac. The drink
could have been drugged, or poisoned, but I didn't
think Knox had called me up here to kill me that
way. There was something else. Something deep in
his eyes, almost a sadness, that made me think dif-
ferently.
"I don't understand," I said, looking around the
apartment.
"No, you don't. Your kind never have. Nor will
you ever. Because understanding of this comes
from the heart, not the head."
"Bullshit,"
I said sharply. "You have a great
racket going here. Last I heard, you and your
church were worth more than a billion dollars."
"Seven-point-eight billion U.S. dollars, at cur-
rent market prices," Knox said.
"Which makes you the richest man in the
world. "
"Yes," he said flatly. He turned his back on me
again and looked out the window at the rapidly-
filling stadium. "What have you come looking for,
Mr. Carter?"
"I came for Pat Staley," I said.
"I'm afraid that's not possible," Knox said. "Al-
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though I knew it would be impossible, I had almost
hoped that once you arrived, you could somehow
be convinced that what we are doing is right and
good. "
"Convinced? With some fancy parlor tricks?"
"Have you seen an unhappy person since you've
been here?"
"If there was enough Valium to go around, the
entire world would be happy, Knox. Which means
nothing."
Knox shuddered. "Get out of here, Carter. Take
thc elevator downstairs, and you will be escorted
back to the despicable little boat that brought you.
Arimå and the boy are already aboard."
"Not without Pat."
Knox spun around, and I tensed thinking he was
going to spring at me.
"Get out of here. Leave us in peace, or I will take
you where all of us are going tomorrow night!" he
screamed like a wild man, spittle flying from his
lips, his teeth bared.
V' You're crazy," I said. "What in God's name
are you planning for tomorrow night?"
"The Final Reward," he screeched. "Stay and
you will be a part of it. Leave and your life will be
your own!"
The elevator doors opened behind me. "Let's go,
Carter, your boat is waiting."
I turned to face Seidelman and two of his guards.
They all had guns pointing at me.
What was going to happen wasn't scheduled un-
til tomorrow night, which gave me at least twenty-
four hours. Not enough time to bring in help, but
certainly enough time for me to come up with
something.
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I drank the rest of my cognac, set the glass down
on one of the low tables, and without looking back
at Knox. stepped aboard the elevator, and rode
down with Seidelman and the other two.
They escorted me back through the church, out
the front door, and down the mall toward the
docks. The town seemed deserted. Everyone by
now would be up at the stadium.
"About my clothing and weapons?" I asked, as
we walked.
"Your clothing is aboard the boat, which we
have refueled and reprovisioned for you. But you
will go unarmed in peace."
"To be massacred by the Indians."
"Whatever fate decrees, so be it," Seidelman
said with satisfaction.
The diesel on Arimå's boat was idling when we
came down to the docks. I stopped by the boat and
turned around to look up beyond Seidelman and
the others, toward the church. Behind it, the night
sky was lit with a soft glow from the lights around
the stadium.
"Tomorrow night will be another Jonestown,
with one important difference," I said, looking
back at Seidelman.
The man had a half-smile on his lips, but he said
nothing.
"You and Karsten and your goons won't be tak-
ing the fall, although Knox will." I shook my head.
"He's quite crazy, you know. I think he actually
believes in all this mumbo jumbo."
"Get aboard, Carter."
"What about Pat?"
Again Seidelman smiled. "She'll be well taken
care of."
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I almost sprung at him then, but I held myself
back. Pat wasn't the only one at risk down here.
Suddenly the stakes had risen much higher. Sud-
denly there were more than a thousand potential
and likely victims of Knox's madness and
Seidelman's greed.
' 'I will be seeing you again, Seidelman," I said.
"l don't think so," he replied.
I turned and jumped aboard the boat. The little
boy, Domingo, was up in the wheelhouse, and he
waved down at me when I looked up.
I released the dock line at the bow, then went
back to the stern and released that line. Immedi-
ately Domingo eased us away from the dock, and
we headed across the lagoon and downriver.
As I started up the ladder to the wheelhouse, I
looked back in time to see Seidelman and his two
guards heading away from the dock, while one of
the large, sleek speedboats pulled away and fell in
behind us.
They were going to make sure that we didn't
turn around and attempt to come back. Either
that, or they were going to follow us until we got
well away from the town, and then attempt to sink
us.
I hurried the rest of the way up to the wheel-
house and went inside.
Domingo looked frightened, but he was doing
well with the boat. Arimå was not here.
"Where is the captain?" I asked, joining him at
the helm,
Domingo looked up at me, his wide brown eyes
filling with tears. "He is dead," he choked out the
words. "They say it was the poison that kill my
papa."
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I said half to myself in En-
"Your father . . . "
glish, but the boy understood.
He nodded his head. "He was my papa. They
brought him below. The sonsabitches!"
He was crying hard now, and I took the wheel
from him with one hand, while I cradled him
against me with the other.
"Why?" he cried. "Why?" Over and over. I had
no answer for him.
We made it across the wide lagoon in a couple of
minutes, and then plunged down the deep, but nar-
row Arauå, the night closing in around us now
that we were away from the town.
The speedboat was a hundred yards behind us,
its running lights clearly visible in an inky back-
drop.
"You must listen to me now, Domingo," I said.
The boy pulled away and looked up at me. He
nodded, sniffling.
"I want you to search the boat for weapons.
Guns, ammunition, knives, machetes—anything
we can use."
I glanced back. The other boat was still there
about a hundred yards aft.
Domingo had started for the door.
"Is there anv fuel aboard other than diesel for
the engines?"
He nodded. "Paraffin."
Kerosene. It would work. "Good," I said. "Af-
ter you have searched for weapons, bring the paraf-
fin out onto the after deck."
Again he nodded, and then he scrambled out the
door and down the ladder.
If they meant to sink us, they would be in for a
very large surprise.
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I was reaching up and flipping off the cabin
lights, when I noticed the softly illuminated fuel
gauges. One of them was on empty; the other nee-
dle hovered just above the empty mark. They had
not refueled us! It had never been their intention to
let us go. It still didn't answer the question, how-
ever, of their exact intentions, although I thought it
was likely that they wanted us to run out of fuel
here, without weapons. Easy pickings for the Indi-
ans who had attacked us on the way up.
Keeping the boat steadily on course, I kept
glancing back. The speedboat remained a hundred
yards behind us. Probably waiting for us to run out
of fuel.
Domingo returned a few minutes later carrying a
ten-foot-length of chain, and a machete.
"Was that all?"
Domingo nodded. "Si. The paraffin is on the af-
ter deck as you wished. There are two cans, maybe
eight liters. "
"All right. Take the wheel. Give me two minutes
to get below and get ready, then turn off all our
running lights and throttle back. But listen up for
my order to get the hell out of here at full throttle."
Domingo looked up at me, a grin starting.
"We're going to kill the sonsabitches?"
"We're going to try, kid. We're going to try. "
THIRTEEN
Outside on the after deck of the boat, near the
stern, I opened one of the deck lockers, and with
the machete cut a ten inch section of thick rope
from a coil, then quickly frayed one end of it.
The speedboat was still behind us, its running
lights bright points in the night.
Opening one of the four-liter cans of kerosene, I
dipped the frayed end of the rope into the fuel,
soaking it well. Then I pulled out my lighter and
waited for Domingo to flip off the lights and throt-
tle back.
The speedboat following us was made of
fiberglass, the hull fairly thin and light for speed;
whereas this boat was constructed of heavy
wooden timbers with a thick hull and a bow strong
enough to bring down a barn.
Our chances of success were slim, but I could
think of no other way.
Our running lights were suddenly flicked out,
plunging us into darkness. An instant later Domin-
go throttled back, the wake we had thrown catch-
ing up with us, slopping us forward until we settled
down in the water.
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Quickly I picked up the open can of kerosene
and poured it into the water, holding it well out
away from the stern.
The speedboat behind us suddenly revved up,
and I could see by her lights she was riding high up
on the water.
Once I had emptied the can of kerosene into the
river, I looked up over my shoulder. Domingo was
hanging out one of the wheelhouse windows.
"Full throttle!" I shouted.
He ducked back inside. At the same moment I
flicked my lighter and set fire to the frayed rope
soaked with kerosene. It flared brightly in the
night, and Domingo jammed the throttle full for-
ward and we shot ahead.
I flipped the burning rope overboard, and the
kerosene lying on the surface of the water ignited in
a small patch that worked its way rapidly into a
large Sheet of flame that rose twenty feet above the
river.
Working my way admidships, I scrambled up
the river into the wheelhouse and took the helm
from Domingo.
Behind us the river was a sheet of flame, beyond
which the speed boat was invisible. But even as I
watched, the flames were beginning to die down.
I angled the boat over toward the left bank, and
when I figured we had come as close as we could
get, I slammed the helm hard over to the right. The
boat responded sluggishly even though we were
running at full throttle, and for a couple of anxious
seconds, I didn't think we'd make the turn without
running aground. But then we were heading up-
stream, directly towård the dying flames.
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Domingo was standing braced next to me, a wild
look on his face. For him, this was all nothing
more than a simple matter of vengeance. They had
killed his father. He wanted to kill them.
"Hang on," I shouted over the roar of the en-
gine.
About twenty yards from the now nearly dead
fire, I spotted the big speedboat riding at a slight
angle in midstream, and I braced myself for the
collision.
Something crashed through one of the wheel-
house windows at the same moment I spotted a
flash from the forward deck of the other boat.
They were shooting at us. "Down!" I shouted,
and Domingo dropped below the level of the win-
dows as several more shots were fired.
The speedboat was starting to move, trying to
get out of our way. But instead of turning his bow
toward us, to present a much smaller target, the
helmsman was turning downstream, laying his en-
tire flank open.
At the last moment, I could see white-robed men
leaping off the deck of the boat into the river, and
then I ducked down below the level of the win-
dows, and we crashed. Our boat seemed to lift up
into the air, a deep-throated, grating sound re-
verberating through the night, and then we canted
to the right and settled at the bow.
I jumped back up and threw our boat into re-
verse. We had struck the speedboat just below its
bridge, shoving it over on its side.
As we backed off, finally pulling free, I could see
water pouring through a huge hole in the hull. The
speedboat rapidly settled, bow first, her stern rid-
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ing high up, but then sinking rapidly out of sight.
"Turn the lights back on," I shouted, turning the
wheel over to Domingo, and then heading out the
door, down the ladder to the deck.
Several men were screaming wildly around the
wreckage. At first I couldn't tell what was happen-
ing until our lights came on.
The river was boiling and blood red. Three men
to one side of the oil slick, where Rhe speedboat had
gone down, were screaming and thrashing in the
water that seemed to have come alive with fish.
Piranha. The river seemed alive with them. And
there wasn't a thing [could do for the poor devils
in the water.
Domingo held the boat against the current, and
within a few seconds the water was quiet again.
The only sign that anything had happened here was
a slight oil slick and a few pieces offloating debris.
Domingo had seen what happened, and I could
see him up in the wheelhouse with a large, feral
grin on his face.
We circled the area for several minutes looking
for survivors, but there was no one, and I finally
climbed back up to the wheelhouse, took the helm
from Domingo, and headed back upstream toward
Reward.
"We going back to kill the rest of them, Senhor?"
the boy asked. He was excited. His eyes were wide.
"We're going back to save the other people. No
more killing."
"They killed my papa!" Domingo shouted.
C' There's been enough killing," I said again. "No
more." But even as I said it, I knew it wasn't likely
that that would happen. There was going to be
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more fighting. A lot more, before this was over.
The fuel gauge needle was right on the empty
mark as I angled the boat over to the right bank,
throttling back so that we were barely crawling
against the current.
I figured we were about a mile downstream from
the town, but if we ran out of gas here, we would
drift farther away. There would be no swimming to
shore, and I didn't believe we had enough fuel to
get us all the way to the docks. We were going to
have to go ashore here.
"Go below, and as soon as we hit the bank, jump
ashore and make us fast to a tree," I told Domin-
go.
He left the wheelhouse, scrambled down to the
deck, and hurried to the bow line as I gently eased
the boat over.
The moment we touched, he jumped over the
side with the bow line. A minute later he scrambled
aboard, hurried aft, grabbed the stern line and
jumped ashore again.
I shut the engine down and flipped off all the
lights. Grabbing the chain and machete Domingo
had found, I went down to the deck as he was com-
ing back aboard. The boat was secured.
With the boat lying still in the water, it was very
quiet here, and nearly pitch black. Finding the
town would be easy. We'd just have to follow the
river upstream for about a mile, and we'd run into
the docks.
I wasn't worried about that. It was the Indians.
Their attack on us out in the river had been under-
standable. Yet the fact that they had backed off so
easily was almost as bothersome as the fact that I
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had seen no defensive measures in the town.
It was almost as if the church and the Indians
had some kind of an agreement, some kind of a
pact together. The Indians apparently never at-
tacked the town. But what did Knox and the others
give them in return? What held the Indians off?
I left the chain on deck; it wouldn't do us much
good in the thick underbrush anyway. I stuffed the
machete into my belt and jumped off the boat onto
the shore, the ground wet and springy beneath my
feet.
Domingo followed, and we struck out toward
the town, the vague outlines of a plan beginning to
form in my mind.
Within twenty yards, the jungle had become so
dense and dark that we were not able to see the
river, only the vague outlines of the thicker trees
around us.
I had visions of stumbling around out here all
night, becoming hopelessly lost. I was about to
turn back toward the river, when a streak of light
crossed the sky, and then was gone.
Domingo and I stopped in our tracks and looked
up. Only snatches of the night sky were visible
through the treetops, and for a few moments I
wasn't completely sure I had seen anything. But
then another thin beam of light crossed the night
sky from the west.
"What is it?" Domingo asked in a small voice.
He was beginning to get frightened.
A third and a fourth light beam flashed in the
sky, and I suddenly knew what we were seeing. Ev-.
eryone had talked about a "festival of lights" to-
night at the stadium. It was starting now, offering
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us an easy way back to the town.
More light beams of many different colors
crisscrossed the sky, and I set out directly toward
it, Domingo right behind me.
Within a quarter of a mile, we emerged from the
dense jungle, finding ourselves on the opposite
shore of the lagoon.
Across from where we stood, we could see the
docks. There was still'one speedboat tired up down
there, but as far as I could tell, there were no
guards posted.
From this point we could see the town, which
was mostly in darkness, the church lit in red, blue
and green lights. Beyond was the stadium, from
where the light beams were flashing across the sky.
"What are the lights, Senhor?" Domingo asked
once more in a small voice.
They were laser beams, I could see that. But
what their significance was, I had no idea. I didn't
think Knox and the church did anything just for
show; so there was probably some meaning to the
light show. But what?
'61 don't know," I said, looking down at the boy.
' 'But I'm going to find out."
"I'm coming with you," Domingo said, stepping
back.
"To the boat over there. We're going to take it,
and you're going to stay aboard. As soon as I get
Pat, we're getting out of here."
"You won't leave me?"
"l won't leave you. I promise."
We worked our way slowly around the lagoon,
coming at length to the pilings that held up the end
of the dock. We crouched there in the shadows.
Still no guards were visible. They were probably
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all up at the stadium for the light show which was
still going on. But I didn't want to take any
chances with Domingo.
"Stay here," I whispered. "If I make it to the
boat, you can follow. But if anything happens, get
out of here."
The boy nodded. I pulled the machete out of my
belt and climbed up on the dock. I stayed there a
moment, and then keeping low, raced down the
wide dock directly toward the speedboat.
As I passed the opening up to the mall, I looked
up toward the church. The entire town seemed
deserted, but from here I could hear the crowd up
at the stadium cheering.
Quickly I scrambled aboard the boat, stopped a
minute to listen, then climbed up the outside ladder
to the bridge.
There was no one there, and within a couple of
minutes I had looked through the entire boat, con-
firming that no one was aboard.
Domingo came silently aboard as I was prying
open a cabinet in the forward cabin.
The lock parted with a loud snap, and I threw
open the door. Inside were three M16 automatic
rifles and loaded clips of ammunition stacked in
the bottom.
I grabbed one of the rifles, loaded it, and then
pocketed a couple of extra clips.
' 'No matter what happens, I want you to stay
here on the boat," I said, closing the cabinet door
and hanging the lock back on the hasp.
We went back out on the deck. "You can watch
from here," I said. "If anyone comes down to the
dock, hide yourself."
"You won't leave me," the boy said.
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"No," I said looking into his eyes. "But if I'm
not back by morning, I want you to take this boat
and get the hell out of here. Get back to Manaus,
if you can, and call the authorities."
The boy finally nodded and I jumped back down
to the dock and headed quickly up behind the
buildings that faced the mall, keeping low and in
the shadows as much as possible.
When I reached the dispensary, the last building
at the top of the mall before the church itself, I
could see the stadium about two hundred yards
away. The bleachers were filled with people, and
the laser beams flashing up into the night sky came
from equipment set up in the middle of the field.
The rear door of the dispensary was unlocked,
and just inside I stopped a moment to listen. But
there were absolutely no sounds other than the
people cheering in the stadium.
I hurried through the dispensary, down a long
corridor, and into the main room at the front
where I went immediately to the three machines
used to air-inject the tranquilizer.
Laying my rifle down, I pulled the machete out
of my belt and started on the machines, damaging
them as much as I could, while making as little
noise as possible. I cut hoses and wires, pried parts
loose, and smashed the various dials and controls.
The machinery would be fixable, given time. But
I only wanted to delay tomorrow's scheduled injec-
tions at-noon. If the entire congregation came off
the tranquilizer, there would be at least some of
them willing to fight.
I couldn't handle Knox and his crew alone. Nor
did I want to simply run off and leave his congrega-
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tion to whatever he had planned for them.
I slipped out the front door and stood a moment
on the dispensary porch watching and listening for
any sign of posted sentries. But as far as I could
tell, there was no one anywhere on the mall, or
even up by the church.
Checking first to make sure the safety was off
and a round was in the chamber of my M16, I
sprinted down off the porch and across the top of
the mall to the wide steps leading up to the church
entrance.
The doors were still open, and just inside I
stopped to catch my breath and look back the way
I had come. I half expected to see someone coming
after me, but there was no one.
I turned and went down the corridor into the
huge main hall. The tables had all been cleared
from the banquet, the chairs all back in place, and
the dais was standing stationary.
Only a couple of dim lights high up in the lat-
ticework were on, providing just enough light for
me to make my way across the hall and into the
back corridor to the elevator that led up to Knox's
quarters.
Like the dock and the mall, this place was
deserted too. My luck was running high at the mo-
ment. If it continued to hold just a little longer, it
was just possible I'd pull this off.
I punched the button for the elevator, then
stepped back, raising the M16 to my hip. The
doors slid open, but no one was in the car, and I
stepped inside.
The doors closed automatically and the elevator
started up.
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Knox was the center of the entire organization.
If I could get to him, it was possible that I could
not only gain Pat's release, but the release of
everyone else down there. Just how the hell I'd get
them all out was another question; but I would
deal with that when the time came—if it came.
The elevator bumped to a halt, and I raised the
M16 as the doors slid open.
Knox's apartment was in darkness, except for
the light coming through the glass wall from the
stadium far below.
I stepped off the elevator, the doors closing be-
hind me, and quickly searched the apartment. Be-
sides the living room, there was a spacious master
bedroom with a large, round bed, a huge bathroom
with a sunken tub and a sauna, a small kitchenette,
and a dining nook. The place was empty. Knox
was evidently either down on the field or in the
control room with the holographic projector.
I made -myself a sandwich in the kitchen,
grabbed a cold bottle of beer from the refrigerator,
and went back into the living room where I sat
down on one of the thick chairs in front of the win-
dow.
The light show was still going full force, multi-
colored beams of light stabbing high into the night
sky, almost like fireworks on a Fourth of July cele-
bration.
Tonight was the festival of Lights fot the Depart-
ing Souls, as they ali called it. Apparently a
harmless ceremony leading up to a day of fasting
tomorrow, and then something tomorrow night.
The Final Reward, Knox had said, was coming
tomorrow night. If he meant what I thought he did,
it was going to have to be stopped.
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I had just finished my sandwich, and had drunk
the last of the beer, when I heard the elevator com-
ing up.
Jumping up and grabbing the M16, I stepped
away from the glass wall, moving into the deep
shadows in the corner.
The elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and
the Reverend Knox stepped into the living room,
Pat Staley right behind him.
"Stand very still and I won't kill you," I said.
Knox and Pat both stopped in midstride as the
elevator doors closed, and I stepped out from the
corner.
"Nick?" Pat said vacantly.
"You!" Knox hissed stepping forward.
"Stop!" I shouted. Knox complied. "I won't
hesitate to shoot you down," I said.
"What do you want?"
"The three of us are leaving here. You're going
to provide an escort for us down to the docks. I
have a boat waiting for me there."
"You'll never get out of this building.
I smiled. "You'll be the first to die if anything
happens."
"You're crazy!" Knox screamed. "You're going
to ruin everything!"
"You should have thought about that when you
caused Pat's brother to kill himself,"
I snapped
stepping forward. "And you should have thought
about it even harder when you came after me."
' 'What are you doing, Nick?" Pat asked, holding
her hands out to me.
"We're leaving this place, right now," I said.
There was definitely something wrong with her.
She was on the tranquilizer, but there was some-
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thing else the matter with her. They had
brainwashed her or something.
"No, Nicholas,"
she said. "Don't you see,
Brother Knox is correct. It is beautiful here. And
tomorrow night, at the Final Reward, everything
will be perfect."
"Listen to her," Knox said.
"We're getting on the elevator," I said, coming a
little closer to them. They both backed up a step.
"Call the elevator, Pat."
She shook her head.
"Are you going to shoot her if she doesn't com-
ply?" Knox asked. He was smiling now.
Pat was staring at me, her mouth open.
I raised the M16 a little higher, pointing it direct-
ly at Knox's chest. "Call the elevator, Pat, or I will
kill Brother Knox. "
"No!" Knox shouted, but Pat turned and hit the
elevator button, the doors coming immediately
open.
"All right, step aboard," I said.
"You'll never get out of here," Knox said, but he
and Pat both backed into the elevator.
The doors started to close as I jumped aboard. I
jammed the barrel of the gun into Knox's chest. "I
want no trouble," I said softly.
We started down, Knox's eyes locked onto mine,
Pat watching us, a horrified expression on her face.
At the ground floor the doors opened and we
stepped out into the empty corridor and started
across to the main hall.
"Why are you doing this to us, Nick?" Pat
asked, walking ahead of me.
"I'll explain later," I said. ' 'For now you've got
to trust me."
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We stepped through the doors into the main hall, and Pat stopped a moment. "No ... Nick, no ... don't do this." "Don't you remember Don? Don't you re-member how he jumped out the window?" She was nodding, a smile on her face. At that moment I almost shot Knox for what he and his people had done to her. "He's in a better place now. Nick. We can all be there together." "Let's get down to the boat, and I'll explain it all there. Can you do that for me?" I asked reason-ably. She looked uncertainly from me to Knox, who nodded. We then started across the wide hall, Knox right behind her. I brought up the rear. "You'll never get that far," Knox said to me over his shoulder. "We'll see . ." I started to say, when I heard what sounded like a crowd roaring outside, and Knox laughed.
FOURTEEN
There was a huge commotion in the corridor op-posite where we stood, and we all stopped as hun-dreds of screaming, shouting people burst into the main hall. "Arise my people, and cast out the infidel!" Knox screamed. I raced forward to where he stood, his arms over his head, grabbed him around the neck, and hauled him back a couple of steps. The crowd roared even louder, answered by an-other mass of people streaming in from the cor-ridor we had just left. Other people burst into the hall from doors on the left and right, all of them screaming and shout-ing. "Stop or Knox dies!" I shouted, but my voice was lost in the din as the mass of people advanced on us from all four directions. "Oh Nick . . . please," Pat cried, and although I could not hear her, I could pick out what she was saying. Knox was hanging loosely in my grasp and was not struggling with me. I raised the M16 over my head and fired a short burst, the shells breaking the glass and mirrors overhead, some of them whining off the steel beams. 6 Still the crowd advanced, and I suspected that even if I began tiring into them, they would not
176
MIRETREAT FOR DEATH 177
T (DH8IcC»
177 I (187 of 228)
— • 110%
RETREAT FOR DEATH 177
stop. They were all on drugs, and evidently all hyped up after the festival of lights at the stadium. I shoved Knox away and turned and raced to the middle of the hall, where I jumped up on the dais. The crowd surged forward totally surrounding me, and for a few brief moments I was certain they would come up on the dais and tear me down. But then they stopped. Knox came forward, his people making a re-spectful path for him, until he stood just below me, his hands outstretched. "Escape is impossible, Brother," he said. "You can not kill all of my people." Out at the fringes of the crowd I spotted Seidelman and several of his men. They had Do-mingo. One of Seidelman's goons was holding a gun to the boy's head. "Give it up and come with us in peace, Brother," Knox was shouting to me. "We will offer you no harm, on my word. Tomorrow you will participate in the day of fast with all of us, and in the evening, the Final Reward will be yours." I have been in difficult situations in my life. But this was the first time I felt truly overwhelmed. I was armed. Yet there was simply nothing I could do to get out of here. Killing Knox would do noth-ing but hasten my own death, without having the slightest effect on what I knew was going to happen tomorrow night. Alive, however, there was a possibility I still might be able to get us all out of this. I clicked the safety back on, laid the rifle down on the table behind me. and clasped my hands be-hind my head.
NICK CARTER
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178 NICK CARTER Knox beamed his approval. He jumped up on the dais with me, grabbed the gun, threw it out to one of Seidelman's men in the crowd, and then took my machete and handed it down as well. "You may put your hands down, Brother Nich-olas," Knox said gently. "We are all friends here." I complied, and the crowd began to break up, turning and leaving the hall through the four doors. Pat left with them, and within five minutes I was alone with Knox on the dais, four of Seidelman's men armed with pistols standing below. Knox shook his head sadly, stepped down from the podium, looked up at me one last time. then turned and strode across the hall, back toward the elevator. "Convert him," he shouted over his shoulder. "Make him mine!" "Down off there," one of the guards said rough-ly when Knox was gone. I jumped down off the dais, and immediately two of the guards grabbed my arms at the elbows and yanked them back, while a third stepped up and gave me an injection in my neck just below my right ear. flinched with the sharp prick and started to struggle out of their grasp, but my legs suddenly began to get wobbly, a roaring sounded in my head, and a sense of peace and well-being seemed to course through my body, like waves on a beach. Within a few seconds the guards released my arms. One of them took my hand and helped me walk along, down the aisle, through the corridor and out the front doors. The lights from the stadium were out, and most
RETREAT FOR DEATI I 179
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of the people were heading back to their rooms when I crossed with my escorts to the Palace of Pleasure. Charlene, my masseuse from earlier, was there on the porch waiting for us. She wore a broad smile. "Brother Nicholas, you don't know how much we worried about you here," she said. She took my hand and led me inside, my guards leaving us. Everything around me seemed to be hazy as I went with Charlene into the same room where I had been brought before. Gently she undressed me, helped me take a shower, and then when I was dried off, walked me back to the wide bed where she laid me down. She was nude, and suddenly she was in the bed with me kissing me everywhere and caressing me, her lovely breasts brushing against my chest and then my legs, and I could feel myself responding. It was as if I was in a dream. She straddled me, and I slipped inside her at the same moment she broke something under my nose, and a sharply sweet odor wafted up into my nostrils at the same time I took a deep breath. It seemed as if the top of my head was coming off, and I was flying higher and higher, Charlene's body wonderfully warm and soft and secure. Higher and higher I soared, the pleasure cours-ing through me in gigantic waves, while all the while I was dimly aware that my breath was com-ing far too fast, and my heart was racing out of control, ready to burst from my chest. And Yet the feeling seemed to go on and on, the pleasure rising higher and higher, becoming stronger and stronger, until it was almost pain, but lovely pain, and then stars, and spots, and bright flashes, but all
1%0 NICK CARTER