Luana (11 page)

It was small because it was not even a hundred meters high, and the stream that ran through it was barely a rivulet. That made it no less impassable. The walls were almost sheer on both sides and ran for kilometers in both directions. It might as well have been a thousand meters deep. They could not climb down.

“Well,” said Albright with hopeful finality, “that’s that. There’s no way we can get down this wall. Even if we could, somehow, there’s certainly no way we could get up the other side. We’ll have to turn back.”

“You’re a fountain of joy, aren’t you, Albright,” commented Murin. Isabel looked from the chemist to Barrett.

“Is that true, Mr. Barrett? Will we?”

“Well now,” he replied, surveying the far side, “that all depends, Izzy.”

“Depends? On what?”

“On how afraid of heights you are, and how good my arm is. Mur!”

Albright and Kobenene watched curiously. The latter had checked all their cases by now, discreetly, and had seen nothing like the climbing equipment they would need for such a descent and ascent. No crampons, no pitons or rock hammers, nothing.

One of the leather-covered boxes yielded a single thick coil of glistening nylon cord. It was followed by a short, stubby metal bar. Murin fooled with the bar and one end opened like an iron flower. Three sharp barbed prongs clicked, locked into place.

Barrett shifted the coil to rest loosely on his left arm. He walked to the edge of the gorge and planted himself firmly, left foot forward. He began to whirl the grappling hook over his head, letting out line slowly, moving it in wider and wider arcs. It made basso whooshing sounds in the air.

Faster, faster, then—throw!

The hook clunked against the far side just below the bank and dropped. Barrett hauled it up, carefully recoiling the line. Murin walked over.

“Want me to try, George?”

“Naw, not yet, partner. I can make it. Just didn’t get my arm up on the release.”

The helicoptering noise was repeated. The triple hook spun through the air, was released, and fell on the far side, well clear of the edge. Barrett tugged, yanked. It seemed set. He and Murin wrapped the near end a dozen times around the trunk of the biggest tree near the edge, about three meters off the ground. The cord now ran on a slant from the tree to the distant bank.

“Ready?” asked Murin. “I’ll get the basket.”

“Just a sec,” cautioned George. “Might as well make sure, hey?”

He wrapped both hands tightly around the smooth nylon and put one foot into nothingness. Isabel gasped. The other foot went over and he hung free. He jerked once on the cord, twice.

And disappeared.

Isabel screamed and everyone rushed forward. Murin was first to the edge, but felt less panic than the others. Except Albright and Kobenene, of course, who’s emotions were of a radically different character.

Barrett hadn’t fallen far. He was wrapped around the rope like a snake only a meter below the lip of the canyon. A couple of quick pulls brought him up. He smiled.

“What are you all staring at? That’s why I did it. The hook wasn’t fixed properly on the other side,” he concluded in mild understatement.

The line was brought up again and a third time the hook whistled over Barrett’s head. He heaved up and out and the prongs soared across to drop in the brush on the other side.

This time all the hanging and jerking Barrett could manage, and then he and Murin together, didn’t even bring any fresh slack into the cord. It seemed securely set.

Murin picked up the basket, a sling composed of nylon cord with a tiny leather seat and a snap shackle on top.

“You mean that’s all there is to it?” queried Albright in disbelief.

“That’s all, Herr professor.”

The basket looked less than flimsy. Barrett stepped into the contraption, slipping his legs through the two holes on either side of the small seat.

“See you on the other side,” he grinned. He relaxed, let his weight pull the cord taut as he snapped the shackle onto it. A thinner cord ran from the seat to a coil in Murin’s hands. He took a deep breath and lifted his feet off the ground.

The incline was gentle. Nevertheless, he seemed to shoot across the chasm.

His landing was awkward. He crashed into the bushes on the far side, but he was unhurt.

“Nothing to it!” he yelled, climbing out of the basket. “Izzy, care to try it next?”

Murin pulled on the thin cord and dragged the basket back towards them. She considered. Noticing her hesitation, Albright ventured a hopeful opinion.

“Really, dear Isabel, I think this risk is quite unwarranted and dangerous! Surely we can go around. It may take a few weeks, but—”

“Norman,” she said evenly, “I appreciate your concern for my safety. Honestly I do. But you know we haven’t got weeks to ‘circle around.’ We have to cross here. Mr. Barrett just did it and I’m sure I can manage at least as well,” She stepped into the basket. Murin made sure the straps were all in place.

“Now, don’t look down,” he whispered to her, giving her a reassuring pat. “When you’re ready to go, just lift your feet. George will catch you on the other side.”

“All . . . all right.” She clutched the top of the sling below the shackle and closed her eyes. “I’m ready.” She lifted her feet.

There was a sensation for several seconds of flying through the air, like diving from a high springboard or platform. She slammed into a pair of arms, a hard body. The impact wasn’t much, but the shock was overwhelming. She gasped and found herself staring into Barrett’s smiling face.

“You did right well, Izzy! You all right?”

“I think so,” she replied. She stepped out of the cords and looked back. Yes, she’d really crossed over. Then she grinned slightly.

“It was kind of fun, actually.”

Albright, wishing to squelch any doubts as to his willingness to listen to Barrett, went next. The chemist managed the short but breathtaking trip with admirable scientific detachment.

Rather surprisingly, it was Kobenene who gave them the most trouble. The big man, it was revealed, was utterly terrified of heights. Albright had to swear up and down at him before he’d finally consent to climb into the basket. Once safely across, Barrett had to practically pry the man’s hands free of the sling rope.

After that things moved briskly. Crates and cartons and other supplies zipped across. The rest of the bearers followed, one after another. For those who’d worked with Barrett before, the journey was routine.

Murin was the last. He unwrapped the line from around the thick tree and coiled it snugly around his waist. Barrett and several of the bearers stood ready on the other end. The wiry second in command moved to the side of the canyon. Putting his legs over the side, he sat on the edge. Then, giving them the okay, he pushed off and flew across the chasm.

Isabel and Albright gasped and ran to the edge—to see Murin waving reassuringly up at them. He’d made a smooth arc across the gap and let his powerful legs take the impact of hitting the far side, rather like a broad rappel.

“Juhu,
up, up!” ordered Barrett. He and the bearers pulled. A few seconds later Murin was standing with them on the side of the canyon, uncoiling the line from his waist.

After the troop had moved off the canyon returned to former silence, broken only by the light sound of the stream running over rocks below. Then, on the far side, small shapes appeared.

“What now, sister?” asked Ohoh, hanging onto a bush and surveying the drop. Luana pointed upstream.

“There is a broken place there where we can cross. A morning’s run. We can catch up to them easily on the other side. Let’s go.”

She started in that direction and paused abruptly, aware that only Jukakhan was following. She turned.

“So?”

For once Chaugh and Ohoh found themselves in agreement.

“So much trouble and time, so much effort and care, for a few strange man-things,” the panther mumbled. “Why?” He moved restlessly to the edge of the jungle and waited. Ohoh followed, hopped into a tree.

“What do you mean, ‘why?’ ” Luana eyed the cat sharply. “They need our help, for one thing. You saw what nearly happened to the she.”

“Such fools deserve to die.”

“Why, Chaugh!” The panther was often moody, but rarely so bitter. It would have been small consolation if she’d known that he was unaware of the reasons behind his own discontent. He growled.

“You must choose, sister. Jungle law or man law.”

“I must not,” she countered. “I can go by either or both when they don’t conflict.”

“That is true,” put in Jukakhan.

Chaugh snarled. “You keep out of this, slayer of mice.”

“What was that?” The huge lion took an incredulous step forward.

“You heard me, brother. Killer of rats. Destroyer of snails. Slayer of . . .”

It was already too much for Jukakhan. The lion took another step forward and leaped. Chaugh rose to meet him, and the two cats went head over heels into the brush.

“Chaugh! Jukakhan! Stop this insanity! Do you understand me, stop it!”

She followed quickly, trying to get between them as they tumbled over and over through the undergrowth. It was impossible, like trying to separate a hurricane from its eye.

Something wet and slimy hit her on the back of the neck. She reached back and her hand came away with a mass of sticky pulp. Just above and behind, Ohoh danced and chattered on a high branch.

“Hah, sister, how do you like
my
arguments, hmmm?” He threw another of the overripe fruits and she just managed to dodge it. There were plenty of the fruit trees around. But there was also a goodly supply of the sweetish, rotting fruit lying on the ground.

As the two cats spun through the brush, a tornado of black and brown, she and Ohoh exchanged pot shots. Luana could throw harder and with more accuracy than the chimp. However, Ohoh made a small target and was incredibly agile besides. Before long both were liberally dosed with sticky green syrup and tiny seeds.

Luana feinted and the chimp darted behind the trunk of one of the trees. She dashed quickly underneath. Ohoh leaned out, looking for her. When he saw nothing, he leaned further, trying cautiously to see around the bole of the next tree. As he did so, a not so rotten fruit hit him square behind one ear and knocked him clean off the branch. He got up slowly from the fall, holding his head with both hands.

“Oooo,” he moaned. “Ohoh is killed. Ohoh is dead!”

“Ohoh is covered with rotten fruit!” laughed Luana, rushing past him.

Now to do something about those two obstreperous brothers of hers! A vine, another, and she was on a limb just above them. She measured the drop and distance carefully, then stepped off the branch. The biggest fruit she could find she held high over her head, a fat green specimen nearly as large as a pumpkin.

As she landed on Chaugh’s back she brought the fruit down with both hands and hit Jukakhan right between the eyes. Sap and pulp and seeds flew in all directions. The lion roared in surprise and backed free, shaking its head and blinking. Then he lay down and began to rub at the sticky mess with his paws.

Chaugh pranced and darted and threw himself every which way in the bushes. Luana clamped her thighs tight to the panther’s muscular sides and buried her hands in his neck, refusing to let go. River monster hadn’t been able to break that grip. Neither could Chaugh. He finally ran out of steam and sank exhausted to the ground, crunching leaves and twigs with his belly.

She leaned over and whispered in one pointed ear, flicking it with a finger.

“Had enough?”

Panting heavily, Chaugh turned and stared back at her. He closed his eyes, reopened them.

“Enough. Very well, I shall go with you. But I still think you are a fool, sister.”

“Now that,” she admitted, leaning lower and licking his ear, “was never in question.”

The panther twisted its head back and lapped at her cheek with a broad red rasp of a tongue.

Chapter VI

Barrett’s guess about the big river was off in time but not substance. It was slow moving, but deep and wide. It also housed an unhealthily large population of hungry crocs. While there were plenty of sturdy trees about, their slingbridge was not long enough. Barrett couldn’t have thrown it halfway across anyway, and the torpid current stayed in the center of the stream. They couldn’t drift a line across.

Barrett scratched his neck and examined the scene unhappily. He’d been expecting this, but that made the reality no less pleasant.

“We’ll have to build a raft,” he finally confessed. “I don’t like the delay it’ll cost us, but there’s no other way. At least decent wood is plentiful.”

“Surely,” said Albright, “you don’t expect us to cross this barrier on anything so fragile as a temporary, unpowered craft?” He indicated a large crocodile swimming lazily past. It must have been a good five meters long.

“I sure as hell don’t intend to swim it, Albright.” Barrett started to walk away—he had work to do—but the chemist wasn’t finished.

“Mr. Barrett, I must protest. Seriously protest!”

Murin and Isabel looked over. Barrett turned and put hands on hips, eyed the scientist squarely.