The Veiled Lady (10 page)

The helicopter was coming erratically down, bobbing and drifting like a feather in the wind.

Tinn was sitting upright in his seat, his cigarette unlit between his lips. "What's the matter?" he asked once again.

"I told you, the air currents are crazy inside this damn volcano." Silvera's dark face was speckled with perspiration; his hair had an extra curl to it.

"This is what killed Gabe," said Tinn.

"Be quiet," Silvera told him, struggling to keep the helicopter under his control.

They had reached the rim of nearly twenty minutes ago and entered the hollow mountain with little trouble. Now, with the heavy mist rubbing at their ship and the great gusts of hot 50

air wooshing up from below, the copter was growing more and more difficult to control.

"Whyis it making that noise?" asked Tinn.

"What noise?"

"That noise."

The copter was giving off a loud chattering sound as it swayed unevenly on the odd air currents within the volcano. Then it suddenly dropped, with a plummeting abruptness, several hundred feet straight down.

When Silvera got control of the ship again, his head began swinging rapidly from side to side as he checked all the instruments spread out before him. "Our radar setup isn't working," he said.

"You told me this crate was in A-I shape," reminded the Chinese.

"Quiet."

The copter rocked, jerking down unevenly through the thick mist.

Silvera muttered to himself in his mother tongue. "It feels as though were taking over control of the ship," he said.

The helicopter swung sharply to the left. The rotating blades all at once gave off a terrific rackety noise. Then a huffing, puffing sound.

Tinn's head was tilted far back. "You ran into something."

The propellers ceased turning. The sway and drift ended as the helicopter began falling earthward.

"Some kind of bird you hit," gasped the Chinese. Abruptly the ground met them. There was a gigantic slam.

Tinn's teeth clacked together. His handmade cigarette exploded and sent flecks of tobacco spinning through the still-vibrating cabin.

Silvera was slumped in the pilot's seat, held partially upright by his safety belts.

The Chinese rubbed at his head, wiped at his eyes. Then he turned to look at his partner. "Hey, Silvera, are you okay?"

The little dark man groaned.

Tinn got himself unfastened and reached over to poke Silvera. "Anything broken? Are you badly hurt?"

Groaning again, Silvera's eyes flickered. "What?"

"How are you?"

"One would imagine the crash was not serious enough to do any great damage," said Silvera.

"Apparently we were much closer to the ground than our instruments indicated."

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"How about the radio?" asked Tinn. "Is it working?"

Silvera wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. "I'll try it," he said. "I hate to admit botching the final stages of this flight, but, nonetheless, we'll need help getting out of here."

"I doubt Barber's going to put any more planes or people in here."

Silvera was working at the radio. It did not respond. After several minutes, he announced, "She's dead. The impact caused that."

Turn let out a heavy sigh. "So here we are at the bottom of the volcano, marooned like Crusoe and Friday."

"Let's not despair, Tinn," said Silvera. "There are several possibilities which suggest themselves to the-. My god!"

"Huh?"

The little dark man's eyes had turned toward the partially shattered window of the cabin. He was pointing now at something outside. "The mist doesn't exist down here close to the ground," he said.

"I just realized one could see out there. Look there, Tinn."

A flock of angry flies was circling the ship. Each fly was as large as a flying squirrel. Their buzzing was incredibly loud.

"Flies," said Tinn. "Why do they look so big? Is it a distortion of the glass?"

"I'd like to think so," said Silvera. "I'm afraid not, however."

One of the huge flies had landed on the glass, was walking over it, its great many-faceted blue-green eyes watching Silvera.

"Do you think," asked Tinn, watching the fly intently, "those things are an exception? Or do you think-"

"One has to seriously consider the possibility there will be other such overgrown life-forms down here."

Tinn slumped down into his seat, eyes never leaving the droning giant flies. "It's. . . it's incredible,"

he said finally. "What. . . what possibly can have caused it?"

"You'll have to save that question for the good Doctor Love."

"What are we going to do now? It's not possible to go out there."

"Oh, yes, it's highly possible," corrected Silvera. "Unless you'd like to die right here in this plane."

"We've got supplies. We can stay in here, live on that until somebody sends a rescue party."

"You forget that the only somebody who knows we're here is Barber," reminded Silvera. "He's not likely, as you yourself suggested, to invest any further time or money in this project. So after we've eaten up our supplies, we'll be finished."

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"I don't see as how there's any alternative."

"There are always alternatives," said Silvera. "I intend to locate Doctor Love and take the treasure away from her. While I'm at it, I'll also determine if Gabe is still on our side."

"Dead is what he probably is," said Tinn sadly. "A meal for a big bug."

"I doubt that. I don't think we'll have that much trouble either," said Silvera. "Our guns can handle most anything, big or small, we're liable to encounter."

Tinn said, "Okay, suppose we do go out there? Suppose we find the treasure. What then? We're still stuck eight thousand feet down inside a volcano."

The small dark Silvera said, "You're forgetting the Phantom."

"No, I just put him at the back of my mind while I worried about our latest troubles."

"He did not fly in; he climbed," said Silvera. "One now has at least two possibilities to consider.

First, it may well be possible to climb out the way the Phantom climbed in. Second, it may also be possible the Phantom knows another way out."

"We simply walk up to him and ask?"

"Yes," said Silvera, chuckling, "being sure we have a rifle or two pointed at him."

Tinn finally began rolling himself a cigarette. "I find none of those prospects pleasing."

"Be that as it may, you'll go along," Silvera told him. "Come, let's get started."

A moment later the small dark man was standing on the mossy turf of the volcanic valley.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jan Love glanced up, then dropped the tin of bacon she'd been about to open. "Karl," she called out in a faint voice.

Stepping out of the giant vegetation beyond the clearing were two men. The one in the lead was small and dark. He carried a Winchester rifle casually under his right arm. The second man was a heavyset Chinese, with a .45 automatic in his fist, who looked very much in need of sleep. When the Chinese stepped into the clearing his left elbow brushed a tall weed stalk, causing enormous umbrella-like seeds to come spiraling down through the morning.

"What is it?" said Karl, peering out of the copter cabin. "Why, it's a rescue."

"I don't think so," said Jan as the little man's rifle swung to cover Karl.

"One mustn't judge by appearances," said Silvera, with a little smile, "We might very well be your saviors."

Jan went two paces backward as they approached. "How did you get down here into ?"

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Tinn answered her. "Same way you did, by copter."

"Then you could fly us out?"

"If the lousy crate hadn't smashed on landing," said Silvera had crossed to the copter. His rifle barrel inscribed a small arc as he gestured with it. "Come down out of there, Doctor Waagener. And where's this Phantom fellow?"

"Who?" asked Karl.

"Drop on down here," ordered Silvera. "One would advise you not to try conning us. We know the Phantom came into the volcano."

"Perhaps he did," said Jan, "but we haven't seen him." If she could convince them the Phantom was nowhere around it might give the masked man a better chance of taking this pair by surprise when he returned.

"Is that so, Gabe?" Silvera called into the copter.

After a silent twenty seconds, Gabe answered, "No, they're trying to cover for him. He was here, but he's out in the wilds hunting now."

"Gabe!" said Jan.

His eyes and gun on the blonde girl, Tinn said, "You're not dead, huh, Gabe?"

"No, only a little banged up." The pilot climbed out of the ship, favoring his injured leg.

"See," said Silvera. "This place isn't as bad as you thought, Tinn. It didn't kill Gabe."

"Bad enough," said Tinn. "Gabe, you ought to see what we had to fight our way through while we've been hunting for you. Giant things, everything's giant. Bugs, insects, birds. What in-?"

"Save the biology for later," said Silvera. "How come we didn't hear from you, Gabe?"

Slowly Gabe drew out his pistol. "The radio went out when we crashed." He motioned Silvera off, turning his snub-nosed .32 pistol on Karl. "I can watch him."

The bearded Karl frowned. "What is this, Gabe?"

Laughing, Silvera said, "What it is, is we outfoxed you, Professor. Gabe is our boy."

"But why?" Jan wanted to know.

"Can't you guess?" asked Tinn.

"No," said Jan, watching Gabe's face. "What's this all about, Gabe?"

Silvera strode toward her. "It's about a fortune in gold and gems, which we've come to relieve you of."

"What?" said Karl.

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Silvera turned toward Gabe. "Where have they got the loot stashed, Gabe?"

"Well, now," said Gabe, "that's just it, Silvera. They haven't."

"What in the hell are you talking about?" demanded Silvera.

"Maybe," suggested the weary-eyed Tinn, "he's decided to double-cross us."

"I'm telling you there's no treasure," said Gabe. "They haven't got it."

"Then where the hell is it?" asked Silvera.

Gabe shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know? You don't know? You've been down here for days and you don't know. What did they do with it?"

"Nothing," said Gabe. "There is no treasure."

"No treasure? Of course there's a treasure," said the little dark man. "That's why they came down here, because they knew where it was. Why would they risk their hides otherwise?"

Jan smiled evenly at the angry Silvera. "We ventured into for one reason only: to study the mutated life-forms we suspected might exist down here."

"Oh, I've heard all about that." Silvera moved closer to the girl. "That's the story you made up to fool those idiots on the Jungle Patrol. Don't think you can use it to fake us out."

"Look," put in Gabe, "I think she's telling the truth, Silvera."

"Oh, do you?" Silvera gave him a twisted smile. "Well, I don't think she is, and neither would Barber. He didn't get where he is by making bad guesses."

"I've been with them around the clock," insisted Gabe. "They have never even mentioned the treasure. They really are biologists, like they say."

Tinn took a deep careful drag of his newest homemade cigarette. "What did you do, boy, give away your cover? They must have got wise to you. That's why they've kept quiet."

"Damn it," said Gabe. "You guys have made a mistake-you and Barber, too. There's no treasure.

Forget it and concentrate on how we get out of here."

"First things first," said Silvera.

Karl asked Gabe, "Suppose we hadn't crashed and there actually was a treasure? What was the plan?"

"There's no treasure. Never mind what the plan was."

Silvera chuckled. "One must admit our original plan was excellent, and vastly simpler than what we're now engaged in."

Karl asked, "You intended to fly out with the treasure and leave us here?"

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"Exactly," answered Silvera.

"Oh, Gabe," said Jan in a soft faraway voice. "Now we have had enough chitchat and confessional sessions," said Silvera. "I want to know where the treasure is." He had eased up to within inches of Jan. "I would appreciate being told."

Jan looked down to meet his gaze. "There is no treasure."

Silvera slapped her across the cheek. "I do not enjoy being lied to."

"You'd better not try that again!" shouted Karl.

Tinn pointed his automatic in Karl's direction. "No heckling."

"There is no treasure," repeated the girl Silvera slapped her twice more.

"Damn you," said Karl.

"Leave her alone," said Gabe.

Silvera scowled at the pilot. "Don't tell me what to do, boy" He reached out suddenly to slap Jan again.

"I'm telling you," warned Gabe. "Leave her alone."

Silvera caught hold of Jan's long blonde hair, tugged and twisted it, pulling her head down closer to his. "Tell us now."

Gabe made a rumbling, roaring sound in his throat. He came across the clearing in a hobbling run.

"Let go of her, man," he said. He kicked out with his good leg, catching Silvera in the kneecap hard with his boot toe.

"Hey!" The dark little man hopped back. He swung his rifle up, aimed it straight at Gabe.

Gabe's finger squeezed the trigger of his .32.

A slug dug into Silvera's right arm near the shoulder. He screamed, dropped to his knees, but kept hold of his rifle.

Gabe dived into the surprised and stunned Tinn. He hit the Chinese's low-hanging stomach with an elbow. Fresh blood was staining the leg of Gabe's trousers. His wound had opened again. "Run," he told Jan. "Get the Phantom."

Jan turned, sprinted into the giant underbrush. After a moment, she heard another shot. She didn't know if it had been aimed at her or Gabe.

She kept running.

CHAPTER NINETEEN