Fire Cult

by R. B. Shaw

  Fang removed Tiana’s dress, then his own clothes and crouched down between her legs. He carefully slid off her pink lace underwear, exulting in the moment. She lay naked before him, quiet and pensive. Her sparkling eyes held his gaze. He stared, mesmerised by her beauty. Her mystic eyes were captivating, almost intimidating as he began to caress and massage her inviting and curvaceous form. Dave once joked that Fang’s foreplay was ‘a six-pack and a crotch grope’, but Fang discovered new sensations. His hands caressed and gently explored the smooth contours of Tiana’s face and body.

  Tiana in turn kneaded the bunched muscles in Fang’s chest. Her head gradually moved lower to tantalise the intimate parts of his body that felt ready to burst with desire and arousal. He gently lowered himself over her, taking his full weight on his elbows and knees. Not once did they break their mutual gaze as she guided him, then crossed her ankles behind his back. Fang waited, savouring the merging of their bodies. Tiana gently squeezed him. Her hips writhed, prompting him to respond.

  Those incredible sensitive lips moistened his face, provoking, intimidating and teasing. He could stand it no more and began thrusting in response to Tiana’s subtle gyrations. ‘Fang the five minute fornicator’; a sarcastic comment from the past again flashed through his mind. He deliberately slowed, delaying his climax, revelling in their mutual ecstasy. A look of urgency rose in Tiana’s wide eyes, her glorious face shiny with exertion and surrounded by a black gossamer halo. Fang lost control of the situation. He felt as if he were on a runaway train to paradise. Tiana’s lower torso feverishly tugged at him with smooth pulsing persistence, drawing them both irreversibly to climax.

  They relaxed and caressed, rubbing cheeks and sweating bodies. The only noise was their deep breathing, the thumping of their hearts and the cascade on the roof above. Tiana chuckled as a few drenched seagulls landed noisily on the hood. The seagulls stared through the rain-streaked windscreen as if demanding sanctuary from the storm outside.

  Tiana caressed Fang gently. ‘Where’s Dave Stark today?’

  ‘Him and Jan are tryin’ to get the chopper flyin’.’

  ‘Why do you fight so much with him?’

  ‘Not fight. Opposites attract. It’s just mutual respect. In an odd way we control and complement each other.’

  Within ten minutes, Tiana, still heightened with lust, used her mouth and lips to coax Fang to rise again. She turned and crouched, legs wide then arched her slim waist low and smiled a challenge over her shoulder at her new lover. Her eyes sparkled like stars on a winter’s night.

  Fang could not resist and dropped all pretence. Neither tried to restrain pace or emotion. A quick and earthy mating left them both panting and bathed in sweat. They laughed at the wet seagulls still trying to peer through the opaque glass like weird feathered voyeurs. A low-flying jetliner tore the silence, suddenly disturbing their mellow mood. It turned and climbed out over Madang harbour.

  ‘The strip must be open—looks like the rains easin’. You still wanna go, or will we stay here all day?’ Fang winked.

  ‘No, let’s go. I want to know everything about you and your world.’ Tiana dressed but hesitated before touching up her lipstick, turned and looked into his eyes. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you,’ she whispered and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

  Fang felt both elated and flabbergasted. No one had ever looked at him that way or uttered such words to him.

  32

  By the time they reached the control tower the rain had stopped. A musty humidity followed, typical after heavy rain on the jungle-edged coast. Tiana caught her first glimpse of Fang’s Invader and was wary of the gaudy artwork on the nose. A large cruel eagle eye topped a long snarling mouth, red lips drawn back exposing huge curved shark’s teeth.

  Fang pre-flighted the veteran aircraft, checking that the puddles of oil under each engine were no larger than usual. He helped Tiana to clamber aboard and handed her a headset. ‘Put these on so we can talk easier. It gets pretty noisy in here.’

  After firing up the rough-idling radial engines in a cloud of smoke, Fang taxied out and took off. He banked starboard over the waters of the Isumrud Strait. Aqua blotches of coral reef dappled the deep blue sea. Karkar Island volcano and its towering plume filled their entire forward vision. From a distance it looked to be floating in the sky, the lower slopes obscured by the sea mist. Extremely clear at altitude, the rarely-seen tall blue peak was revealed. A veil of bruised purple thunderclouds often obscured it. The terrain around the upper slopes looked brown and wrinkled like the crusty skin of a long-dead dinosaur. Inside the caldera resembled a smouldering open cut mine, dominated by a secondary ash cone belching smoke. It was elegantly symmetrical. Further flight revealed hidden flanks torn open by titanic forces, the rim breached by the current eruption.

  Tiana flashed her disarming smile. ‘What exactly are we looking for?’

  Fang hesitated, remembering Dave’s instructions for discretion. He looked across at the beautiful Thai girl and felt his resolution sink as she smiled and again squeezed his hand. ‘An old barge. It should be a rectangular shape from the air. From what we know, it should be either just below the surface or partly exposed on a reef not far from shore.’ He rummaged through his flight bag and pulled out copies of the enhanced wartime photos. ‘This is what we’re after, barge 282. As you can see in these old shots, the reef also has a small island further offshore. We think that’s part of the mainland coast in the background.’

  Tiana fell silent as she studied the large glossy monochromes, absorbing every detail.

  The Lahara soon appeared ahead, cruising slowly northward along Karkar’s western coastline. Fang lowered the nose, buzzed the white cruiser, then turned and circuited, one wingtip almost in the water. Two figures on deck waved enthusiastically as the Invader roared overhead and continued north.

  Fang overflew the coastal airfield at Kaviak. It was the only strip on the island, all-weather and capable of handling large military transports. Within minutes they reached the area dictated by the co-ordinates and noticed that everything fitted the desired scenario.

  ‘This is the spot,’ Fang motioned. ‘An arc of sandy beach, a long stretch of reef and a tiny islet, well offshore. Let me know if you see anythin’.’

  Despite overflying the region variously at high and low altitudes, nothing resembling a barge could be seen. High scattered cloud dappled the surface of the grey sea with drifting shadows. The sun broke through almost directly overhead, creating random sparkling reflections.

  Somewhat disgruntled, Fang banked the Invader down the western coast, heading for the southern shore of the huge volcanic island. ‘Logically, a sinkin’ barge from Saidor would head directly for the nearest landfall on the southern coast. We’ll fly down and check it out.’

  ‘Sounds fine to me. This is exciting,’ Tiana answered, though unsure of Fang’s white-knuckle cowboy flying.

  Fang kept the aircraft low and studied the black-sand beaches of the ever-changing shoreline below. Ragged rock terraces of solidified lava formed battlements against the sea. Fresh lava flows invaded coastal mangrove swamps. He flew on at less than five hundred feet, keeping the coast in sight at all times, circling occasionally when anything suggesting a sunken wreck became visible. He rejected four possibilities for various reasons, mainly because no small island lay offshore.

  The fallout path from the volcano fascinated them. The dense ash created a heavy layer that buried the existing foliage. It extended and reshaped the contours of the shoreline with huge naked mounds that clawed to the water’s edge, like smooth grey sandhills.

  After nearly four hours of fruitless searching, Fang decided to return to the original search area determined by the longitude and latitude reference. They again headed east along the north coast. Tiana became restless and stared down at a coastal plantation house. She watched until it fell out of sight astern.

  Fang banked the Invader to see what had her attention. ‘What’s the matter, recognise som
ethin’?’

  Tiana twitched nervously. ‘I once visited that plantation house back there.’

  ‘You’ve been out here before?’

  Tiana answered hesitantly. ‘Yes, I taught there for a few days.’

  ‘Great. If we have time after the search, do you wanna land? We can and go out and visit ‘em?’

  She shook her head emphatically. ‘No, some other time. You said you want to recheck that first small island.’

  Fang dropped the subject, turned the aircraft steeply toward the small island and lowered the nose. As they approached, he rechecked the map. ‘Tali island. It’s right on the correct grid reference. Better give the area a thorough look over.’

  The scenario had changed completely since last time they were here. The falling tide exposed the reef and considerably less foam obscured the normally clear waters. In full sun the water clarity allowed more detail. The bright sandy bottom highlighted turquoise coral shoals and dark beds of seaweed.

  ‘Chris! Go back!’ Tiana shouted excitedly. ‘I saw something square on the outside edge of the reef!’

  Fang pulled the power back, lowered the flaps and undercarriage, then slowly orbited the alien geometric shape barely visible below them.

  ‘Shit, that could be somethin’ all right. Pass me the photos.’

  He fought with elation. The coastal skyline was identical. Even Tali Island looked right from this angle. He pulled out his own camera, taking numerous shots as the Invader trembled, dangerously close to stalling and tumbling out of the sky. He let out a loud yell. ‘That’s gotta be it. We’ll get back and tell Dave. He’ll probably radio Jake and Seiji to take the Lahara directly to the site.’

  Fang landed back at Madang, shut down and secured the Invader. ‘Can I take you to dinner or at least give you a lift into town,’ he offered Tiana.

  ‘No thank you, Chris. I’ll catch a taxi. That way you can go over and tell Dave and Jan the good news.’

  ‘Thanks to you.’

  ‘You would have found it eventually anyway.’

  Fang mellowed and took her hand. ‘Thanks for a great day, you were wonderful company. Are you sure about dinner?’

  Tiana smiled her perfect contagious smile, put her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly on the lips. ‘Maybe next week?’ she suggested uncertainly. For the first time, she did not hold his gaze.

  ‘It’s a date, call me anytime,’ said Fang and despite his elation, sensed her reluctance. He immediately felt depressed as he watched her pace out of sight toward the terminal building.

  Fang strolled into the maintenance hangar. Dave and Jan were preparing to lock up. The helicopter looked dismembered and forlorn. Panels lay open, wiring looms and control cables hung out like entrails.

  ‘Dave, we got it, dead on the co-ordinates. Better radio Jake to get the Lahara on site!’

  Dave gave a sigh of relief, smiled broadly and hugged Jan. ‘Was it obvious from the air?’

  ‘No, you really have to be searchin’ to notice anythin’. Once you spot the shape you can’t miss it. Tiana saw it first.’

  Dave rounded on him. ‘What! You took that bloody bargirl along?’

  33

  Creditors had been inquiring at the hotel the previous day, so Dave insisted on an early getaway. He was still in a bad mood after arguing with Fang about Tiana. In the pre-dawn light, the Invader lurched to a halt at the end of Madang airstrip. Jan took the captain’s seat with Fang as co-pilot. The flight to Karkar gave them the perfect opportunity for Jan’s final check-flight.

  The humid coastal heat pervaded the poorly-ventilated cabin. Dave sat in the rear observer’s seat. He glanced at the aquiline beauty of Jan’s face framed by the pilot’s window. Their relationship was on the mend.

  Jan acknowledged take-off clearance and thrust the throttles wide. The aircraft trembled during the take-off roll, then lifted smoothly. A sprinkling of early morning lights fringed the still waters of picturesque Madang Harbour. Beyond the town to the south, the Coast Watcher lighthouse saluted their departure with a last brilliant flash. They eagerly wanted to reach Jake’s campsite and investigate the sunken barge.

  Krankett Island slipped astern, a large jungled atoll with a crystal clear lagoon. Crumpled launches and canoes, high on the eastern beaches, revealed the destructive force of the tsunamis. These tidal waves formed as a direct result of earthquakes and volcanic activity around Karkar Island and the Bismarck Sea.

  ‘Dave, Karkar,’ Jan pointed ahead. ‘It’s so symmetrical, almost a perfect cone.’

  Although cloud obliterated the sunrise, its rosy rays highlighted the upper limits of Karkar’s volcano. The sky had an indigo tint, the volcano stark black. Topped with a magnificent plume of volcanic ash, it bled away into the astral vault of the dawn sky. The rising pall of vaporous ash was fire-charged, not from the volcano, but by the weird backlit gleam from the brazen sunrise. As they flew closer, the apparently smooth contours and slopes looked torn and riven, with deep convoluted ravines and ragged ridges.

  ‘The whole island is centred around the volcano,’ Fang announced.

  ‘More precisely, Karkar is a volcano,’ Dave corrected, as he studied the steep contours. ‘It peaks at over 6,000 feet above sea-level in less than twenty kilometres coast to coast.’

  Fang rechecked Jan’s flying as the towering pall of vapour and ash loomed ahead. ‘Fly over the volcano for a closer look. Stay well clear of the plume and tighten seat belts everyone.’

  A carpet of grey ash crushed acres of jungle. Nearby a vast fan of dark brown lava scarred the eastern slopes. They approached the outer caldera above rim level and looked into the bowels of the earth. Dave could distinguish a fiery glow at the base of the thick billows. It came from another small concentric cone within the sheer sided walls of the larger external caldera. It pierced a surrounding cloud of mist held in the depression formed by the inner walls, not unlike a milky moat around a ragged conical castle.

  Jan banked the Invader. The aircraft bucked and shook violently in the over-heated air currents. ‘Have to avoid that ash cloud. I’ll fly well downwind of the vent.’ The faint smell of sulphur invaded the cabin. As suddenly as it began, the turbulence ceased.

  Dave peered ahead. ‘Overfly the salvage site on the north coast. I want to assess it from above.’

  They dropped rapidly toward the still, translucent shallows inside the perimeter reefs, their ears popping in the descent.

  Jan orbited the white Lahara. ‘There’s the cruiser.’

  Fang searched intently. ‘And there’s the Jap barge on the inner edge of the reef. Can you see it? Midway between the small islet and the beach.’ Although it had sunk ten metres, the clear water gave the impression that it was just beneath the surface.

  ‘Got it!’ Dave responded with a satisfied smile.

  Fang caught sight of Kaviak airstrip on the oceanfront. The coastal road crossed the shore end of the runway. ‘Line up for final approach, Jan, flaps and under-carriage down.’

  The cabin quietened with the power back. Below, the deep blue indigo of the Bismarck Sea paled through a myriad of translucent aqua tones. The powerful ocean surf pounded spectacularly on the perimeter reef that surrounded the island. Coconut plantations flourished on the rich coastal flats.

  Jan dropped the Invader across the coastal road. She braked heavily on the bitumen airstrip, a black ribbon flanked by a verdant pathway carved through thousands of palm trees.

  As they taxied off the strip, Fang opened his hatch and the steamy humidity enveloped them. A group of inquisitive islanders stood watching as the plane came to a halt and Jan shut down the engines. The wary natives kept their distance. The teeth and eyes painted on the plane were highly symbolic to the islanders. To one side sat a battered and rusty Ford, about twenty years old. A chubby European driver lounged on the bonnet, dressed only in shorts and thongs.

  As they stepped from the Invader, he approached, cigarette butt in mouth. A beer gut protruded over his belt and a bur
nt and mangled screwdriver hung through a belt loop. ‘I’m Ted’s mate, Joe Wallis. He asked me to look after you. Said you might make it worthwhile. Your site manager, Jake, arranged for me to drive you to his camp at Kulili.’

  They all shook hands, introduced themselves and hurriedly unpacked their gear. Joe’s long screwdriver and ex-army slouch hat made him look like a bedraggled and grubby swordsman.

  Jan hesitated as she noticed a Cessna Skymaster tied down between two other light aircraft in the parking bay. ‘Who owns the Skymaster over there, Joe?’

  Joe gave a snort. ‘Bruno Kless; owns Rimbula plantation on the far side of the island, just beyond your camp at Kulili. Reckons he needs it for fish spotting. Knowing him it’s got to be fishy all right, and I don’t mean seafood.’

  Fang looked up suspiciously. He had heard that name before.

  34

  Joe’s old Ford did not have a door or fender that matched in colour. Rust disembowelled the sills and every low panel had rotted away. Joe wound down the wagon’s rear window using the screwdriver as a lever in place of the broken crank-handle.

  ‘This is a Fairmont, the luxury up-market model,’ said Joe to impress them as he lifted Jan’s pack into the rear of the battered wagon.

  Despite the volcano emergency and martial law, Karkar remained a sleepy backwater. Jan repeatedly questioned Joe about his work, intrigued by the volcano.

  ‘I’ve been here twelve years and it’s certainly the spot for dramatic volcanic action. The two original volcanologists were killed in a recent eruption. I was their assistant and fully qualified, so the government made my position permanent. I also run a few trade stores around the island.’

  ‘Killed two volcanologists!’ Jan responded with concern. ‘How dangerous is it?’

  ‘Fairly safe at the moment, but volcanos have schizophrenic tendencies.’ Joe took the opportunity to show off his knowledge. ‘There’s over 550 active volcanos ‘round the world and as many as 25 erupting at any given time.’