Flying to Pieces

by Dean Ing

  The sounds from the crowd in the plaza suggested a different note, almost one of reverence, among the throng. Re. ventlo was first to see why as they putt-putted near the plaza thrusting an arm up and out as he braked. "Stone the crows, that man is mad!"

  Lovett nearly ran into a tree when he saw the man-it proved to be Rongi-jump. He had climbed a rope ladder affixed to the very top of the naked tree trunk that towered over the village, finally to stand stripped to the waist on the tiny platform six or seven stories high, a few yards below the apex to which the ladder was tied. When Lovett looked up, a pair of villagers had run off fifty feet tugging on a cord tied to the ladder, so that it hung in a long curve like a loose guywire, and the tiny figure that was Rongi had already taken flight-but falling slowly, arms stretched wide as if to embrace his own death, a slender rope tied to his ankles. The rope had been wound around the great pole so that, instead of falling as a bungee-jumper would, Rongi was circling the pole as the rope unwound. It took perhaps two or three seconds to make a full revolution, to the accompaniment of a low drumming and a toneless aaaahhh from many throats that was almost music.

  Lovett trotted ahead, stumbling because he kept staring upward, lost in awe of the physics involved. With every revolution the jumper descended some four or five feet, and as he did, his bindings became longer. That meant his spiral became wider too, a full revolution taking longer so his downward velocity actually dropped. Lovett realized that while Rongi was now dropping more slowly, the poor devil's circular velocity was increasing. By the time he reached the ground he'd be circling faster than a man could run, faster than a scooter could scoot.

  Fast enough that when he hit bottom he'd be in far more danger from friction than from impact.

  One of those patented Fundaboran cheers went up as Rongi descended to a point where Lovett couldn't see over the crowd, but he saw palm fronds flying and wondered if Reventlo had brought enough merthiolate to paint a man from head to foot.

  Benteen shook her head like a school mann. "With the leaps I've seen, it was a religious ceremony, but they used slipknots and fell straight down, and missed the ground by a foot. I've heard about variations like this, but I've never seen anything quite like it before. I wonder how many people died before they got it right."

  "Right? It isn't right, it's lunacy," said the Brit.

  They watched as a triumphant Rongi arose on willing shoulders, arms still wide. "Jesus, looks like he came up smelling like a rose. This is one for my book, but nobody's gonna believe it," Myles said.

  "Palm fronds will slide over each other like cardboard over grass,"

  Benteen said. "There must be a circle of fronds on the ground where we can't see them. I'll bet he didn't even lose much skin."

  "The man is still barmy," Reventlo insisted, his British sense of propriety outraged.

  Myles, in contrast, was merely amused. "They're all nuts. Welcome to Fantasy Island," he said to the Brit.

  They watched as Merizo paced off a distance from the pole to the spot where, evidently, Rongi had touched down. "I get it. The competition is to see who hits farthest from the pole," Lovett said. "The competition is to see who's the biggest idiot on Fundabora," said the Brit. "And as if there were any doubt, look who's climbing the pole."

  "Omigod," Benteen breathed. Swaying on the rope ladder that now lay Alongside the pole, hauling his great bulk up like some hairless bear, was Jean-Claude Pelele.

  "Give him points for guts," Myles said.

  "He'll have them scattered all over the plaza if that rope doesn't hold," Reventlo replied. "I mean, the fellow's a ruddy villain but I'm not sure I'd want to see that."

  At that point, a beeper in Myles's jacket sounded. He drew the radio from his pocket, free hand over one ear, and responded.

  Having reached the tiny platform that swayed alarmingly, Jean-Claude selected one of the ropes coiled around the pole and tied his ankles as the ladder was again pulled aside. "Hey, Wade," said Myles, "Keikano just. showed up at the cave with Coop. Wants us ASAP."

  Lovett nodded, craning his neck upward. "Tell him I'll be along shortly," he said, distracted by the spectacle.

  "I think we'd all better go," Myles said, loud enough to get Reventlo's attention.

  "Right you are," said the Brit. "But whether our vast fool balks or no, this is not to be missed."

  Myles spoke again, softly, and put away his radio as Jeanclaude stood on the swaying platform, then fell outward to a chorus of drums and voices.

  Just why it was that he began to spiral as widely as Rongi, Lovett couldn't decide at first; the important point was that the rope seemed to be holding. The man's huge belly seemed to move toward his chest as he swung around and around, head downward, the tree trunk visibly flexing.

  "The pole's flexibility is giving him help..It's a setup for the heaviest guy," Lovett said suddenly.

  "Why am I not surprised," Benteen remarked.

  "Hell with this," Lovett said suddenly; "you see one showoff with a death wish, you've seen 'em all." He turned his back on the still-rotating Pelele and lifted the Cushman's kick-starter.

  Myles, watching over his shoulder, hurried to get astride the rear seat, knowing that it was either ride with Lovett or walk. Reventlo and Bente6n waited until they concluded that Fundabora's President was not going to splatter himself far and wide before they followed on the other scooter.

  They were able to ride all the way to the cave by following the Letoumeau's spoor, and found Coop at the entrance looking grim. It's just our folks," Coop called into the cave. A disconsolate Keikano peered out from the edge of the fallen wall, beckoning to Lovett. "He wouldn't tell me anything," Coop said, disgusted. "If you never saw a pale Fundaboran, take a good look at this one."

  As they crowded into the cave mouth, they could see that Keikano was trembling and perhaps a shade or two lighter than usual. "Hey, it can't be that bad," Lovett said, laying a hand on the delicate shoulder.

  But Keikano shrank from the contact. "Not for me, sir.' The throat worked convulsively. "For your sonson." It seemed that Keikano was so frightened his language skills were suffering, too.

  Lovett spoke first. "What's happened to Chip?"

  "I don't know, after they take him. But they take him. Took him," he corrected himself, visibly struggling with the urge to panic. "I think all are dangered. You, me, you especially," he nodded at Benteen.

  "The sonofabitch that grabs me is in worse danger," she said.

  "Now calm down, lad," Reventio pleaded. "You're with us and we have guns, Keikano." He glanced at Myles. "Where are they, by the way?"

  "Grease gun's with my other gear over there," Myles said, jerking a thumb toward the shadowed recesses of the cave. "Sentry takes Ol'-uh, the forty-five. Got it, Coop?"

  Coop silently displayed the big pistol, and Myles took it back.

  "My grandson," Lovett burst out. "Who the hell took him and when, and where the hell did they take him and what the goddamn hell have they done to him?"

  "It-was last night, at the last of play fire-the fireworks," Keikano said. "Jean-Claude's men came while we dried off from swimming. I saw them come. I not know why but I know those ugly pigs. I tell Chip to follow and swim off. Chip turns to meet them. He calls, 'Tell my Pop, Kei,, and they knock him down."

  "Oh Jesus Christ," Lovett said, half turning away, then facing the little schoolteacher again. He felt Benteen's hand on his own shoulder and wanted to slap it away, but curbed the impulse. Melanie Benteen was not the enemy." Did they hurt him?"

  "I did not hear clubs. They have a special sound," Keikano explained.

  "I'll sodding bet they do," Reventlo gritted. "Why would they arrest you? Did you two give them any reason?" He turned to Lovett: "Sorry, Wade, but we need particulars. What reason might they have had, Keikano?"

  "None that I knew then. But I watched and followed them to the council house."

  His mouth set in a furious hard fine, Lovett said, "But you couldn't find us during the fireworks? Or c
ome and tell us later in our rooms that he was being kept under the same lwf?

  "Not if I followed to see where Chip was taken." Keikano's expression said that whatever he'd done he would be damned for it. "After the celebration, lookouts were posted near the council house stairs. I saw them and crawled through a kitchen window. What I heard later-Minister Merizo wants me now. I fear for myself, sirs."

  "Okay, you're probably right. What we do now is march in there and get Chip back," Lovett snarled.

  Keikano put up both hands as if warding off the idea. "I heard much in the night, with my ear to the wall. if you found him, you would have to kill every guard; their orders are plain, and Chip would be killed. They have guns, but few bullets. And I do not think, he is still there. I also learned that Pelele and Merizo want me. They want you," he went on, nodding at Benteen. Facing Reventlo, he went on, "You brought what Jean-Claude wanted and what he wants now, you would not give unless he has prisoners."

  "And besides you and our formidable lady, what might that be," asked the Brit, dangerously calm.

  "That was not clear, but they are agreed. I think they want you to fly somewhere."

  "I'd be bloody pleased to push off at this juncture," Reventlo said,

  '.'but not without all our members."

  "Sirs, they know you have a kokutai here. Someone reported it," Keikano said.

  Coop: "A what?"

  Reventlo translated instantly. "Nip naval aircraft squadron," he said distractedly, then nodded to himself. "Yes, we do at that. So why aren't they here to raise hell about it?"

  "They don't have to. They have my grandson while they finish those crooked games that keep Jean-fucking-Claude in the driver's seat,"

  Lovett answered. "I wish I thought-Kel kano, is there any chance that Pelele won't win as usual?"

  "I do not see how. By midday, the leaders will fight to see who is last in the ring of stones. By now they will be drinking for courage, and to make them foolish," said Keikano.

  "And that big lummox should be able to drink anyone else into a coma,"

  Benteen said. "Don't they know that?"

  "It is tradition," said Keikano helplessly.

  "And when they've finished, you can expect 'em here, drunk as congressmen," Coop inserted, suddenly galvanized. "Gents, you gotta help me finish pullin' that Tojo's other wing right now!"

  Benteen was aghast. "At a time like this?"

  "Can't haul that airchime out and point it until we do. Couple of machine guns in the fuselage and forty mike-mike cannons in those wing stubs; explosive warheads. They look functional to me. Just the thing to give us some clout," Coop said, already moving toward the Tojo.

  Without a word, the entire crew -fell to work in haste to turn that aircraft into a credible weapon. Twin forty-millimeter cannon might not win a war, but every little warhead that struck a stone or a sapling would spew shrapnel far and wide. Fifteen minutes later they rolled a stub-winged Ki-44 fighter downslope and bodily lifted its tailwheel onto stones to aim the guns low. Thanks to shortages faced by Japanese designers, it weighed no more than an average Buick.

  "All they've got to do is move out of the direction of fire," Myles observed.

  "We know that, but maybe they don't. And there'll be some hot little bees singin' off to the sides," Coop said, rigging. wires from a new aircraft battery he had installed in the fighter plane. "If you can fire

  'em," Lovett reminded him. "Yeah. God, right now I wish that old Jap was here."

  "You think he'd help us," Myles said with deep sarcasm.

  "He might help Keikano," Lovett said. "But it's probably academic, he's not here and if he were, he might enjoy seeing us run off the island. I don't guess I blame him."

  "You do not know him, sirs," Keikano said quietly. "His fondest wish is to see Jean-Claude Pelele leave Fundabora. I believe he might wish to help."

  "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Reventlo quoted. 'Yes, but also the man who ends my pain is my friend," Keikano said. "He has some relief from his teeth now, thanks to YOU."

  "You took that carton? I thought Jean-Claude's people got it," Reventlo said with a quick smile. He thought the same. I saw my name on it, and I acted, Sir.

  "Got that' heavy carton across the island by yourself at night, did you?

  Well, don't let the old fellow wolf those blood-pressure pills like sweets," the Brit cautioned. "One a day, I think.'Tell him, Keikano."

  The little fellow's stare was ripe with friendly challenge. "Would you tell him yourself?"

  "If he were here."

  "Or if you were there," was the reply. "I believe that will be the only way. He is an escaped prisoner, you understand."

  "Go; do it," Lovett pleaded. "You even speak his language, Cris. We've got to get some options here, before I take Myles's burp gun and let the air out of Jean-Claude."

  "But you must come, too, Sir. My honored grandfather is your prisoner."

  "Shit! We can't all go," Lovett said, exasperated, waving an arm about him. Benteen divided her attention between them and the pair working feverishly on the fighter plane. Myles, sitting in the Tojo's cockpit, was taking instructions from Coop Gunther who knelt at an open panel of the stub wing.

  "No. Only the officer who took him prisoner, and the pilot who brought his medicine. Tradition is strong here," Keikano said.

  "I'd rather wait right here for Jean-" Lovett began.

  At the single concussive blammmm only twenty feet from him, he dropped to his knees. The echo thinned away and lost itself in the heights like one of Pelele's biggest aerial salutes, but not before a second report reached them from somewhere among the palms near the beach. While Reventlo spun and ducked, Mel Benteen leaped Re a gazelle. Keikano was more direct; he simply sat down hard and fainted.

  From Coop Gunther, now sprawled on his back halfway off the Tojo's wing, an agonized, "Whatthefuck, Myles? What in the goddamn crossed eyes of Texas did you do in there?"

  Myles, frowning down at the controls, called, "I just held this switc -

  h down like-"

  "Well don't do it again, f' Crissake, feed mechanism nearly took my forkin' finger off!"

  "But don't forget what you did, old man," Reventio called, with a nervous giggle. "Oh, that was capital; capital! Hard to believe the bleeding thing still works. I wonder if they heard it in the village?"

  "Could've heard it on Guam," Coop said, rubbing his ear. "I hope Pelele did hear it; might make him think twice."

  Lovett stood up again. "I feel a little better about leaving here for a hike across the island now, Keikano-uh, Keikano?" The response was groggy, but ga!the. "Was anyone hurt?"

  "Nope. Just one of your grandfather's guns, making a report to the nation," said Lovett.

  Their preparations were brief, Benteen detailing herself to the hidden upper entrance to camouflage it with foliage while Myles and Coop set about preparing for what might become a siege. "Keep a radio outside in case the reception is dicey," Reventio said, pocketing one of the units.

  "Let us know if you get visitors."

  "Oh, you'll hear it," Myles promised, digging into a duffel bag he had stashed in the cave. "You think that little forty mike-mike was loud,

  'wait'll I get my toys in order. You ain't heard nothin' yet."

  Reventlo paused as Lovett followed Keikano up the steep foliage-covered path. "Ah-Victor. Grenades aren't choosy, and some of those poor buggers may be innocent, staggering drunks. Don't let's jump-start the war ourselves, right?" He got an abstracted nod and hurried after Lovett.

  Now The sun was at its zenith when Keikano, striding along an unprotected trail high on the narrowest part of the island,. abruptly began to climb along the rocky stones to one side of the path that wound along the rocky spine overlooking the sea. Lovett stared ahead, seeing faint marks of split hooves that went straight forward. Keikano had warned them to do exactly as he did, but this seemed like a silly maneuver. "What the hell?" ' Mantrap," Keikano said evenly. "A goat may cross, Or a child.
You would fall through." And he resumed his scramble, hopping lightly back to the path twenty feet farther.

  With Reventlo peering over his shoulder, Lovett dropped to one knee and studied the trail's surface. He still saw nothing but dirt and stones.

  "iord love us, look down there," Reventlo murmured, pointing. Two hundred feet down, amid stones fallen in some earlier rock slide, lay a human ribcage scoured by a thousand winds, bleached gray by a thousand suns. Farther down: more human remains. "Another one of those stone balances, I'll warrant. it just gives way and hey presto, down it all goes with you. Tell you what, old cock: let's do as the lad says." had reached They scrambled across the rocks until they Keikano, who then set off at a trot without a word.Soon afterward the little native left the trail again, this time amid shrubs wind carved into oval shapes. And this time the Boffs of followed suit, scanning the area fruitlessly for any sign danger. They paused to rest as they began their descent into carefully tended fice paddies strung along the island's contours like slender parallel canals, and here Lovett asked about the second trap.

  "Earth seems firm but it is not," Keikano said, and went on with evident discomfort. "Very sharp spikes just below, smeared with-pekpek, human waste. it goes through your You may not die foot, you fall. More go through your body as soon as you like."

  "Punii stakes," Lovett nodded. "I've seen that before.

  "Nasty beggars," Reventlo muttered.

  "The traps are moved from time to time. Pelele's gang Ifas learned not to visit. There is a trail near the water," he said, pointing to the swamp. "Different traps; more of them." He stood up again and began a quick choppy stride that, Lovett found, kept him from losing his balance on the steep downslope. Below them to the north, beyond the swamp, lay a group of thatched roofs with a stream that had been channeled by human hands. There was no real clearing; the place could barely be called a village and it existed among the foliage. Tendrils of smoke curled from two roofs, the very picture of tranquil island life. Over Lovett's right shoulder were stone pinnacles more than a thousand feet high, and far below to his left lay the blue Pacific. It was a picture worth sitting down to enjoy, but not on this day. Each time Wade Lovett thought about Chip, brutalized by Jean-Claude and his taciturn thugs, the blood began to pound in his ears again.