Flying to Pieces

by Dean Ing

  "and left his gang leaderless. Rongi will now decide yes and no in the village. That is his right. These, uh-pieces of pekpek," she went on, indicating the trussed captives, will be disposed of in your honor."

  Lovett traded swift looks with Chip. "Whoa, don't do it for me. There's been enough pain on Fundabora. If they're beaten, can't he just let them go in peace?"

  Keikano put the question to Rongi, who seemed dumbfounded for the moment. Then, with a look that said he never expected to understand these pale strangers, Rongi climbed into the half-track and spoke rapidly for all to hear. Merizo's expression brightened remarkably in the space of a few moments and, as Pilau lurched his big vehicle away toward the village, Rongi raised his arm in farewell, calling back to them.

  "All are invited to the celebration tonight. Pelele's gang will get a canoe and a week's provisions," Keikano explained. "If they are found on Fundabora after today, their sentence will be carried out." Lovett wasn't bloody-minded enough to ask about that sentence; Merizo's face had told him.

  By the time the trio walked to the airstrip, Lovett ached in every sinew, too weary even to remark on the sorry state of the Betty bomber.

  Keikano was canny enough to whistle her signal to old Ohtsu; otherwise they might have been welcomed by a bullet. After all, no one else knew how quickly the villagers had taken advantage of the air raid and the brisk departure of Jean-Claude Pelele.

  When the shouts of surprise and triumph faded at the cave, Ohtsu was especially pleased. He even saluted Lovett, the only man he'd ever seen who'd figured out how to fly an Ohka without paying an immediate visit to his ancestors.

  Lovett was, in fact, the only one still harboring some imtation. "Coop, I was half-ready to augur that damn bomb in and me with it, 'cause I thought Chip had, bought the farm," he said, glowering. "You made believers of us!"

  "How was I to know Benteen passed it on," Coop fired back, rubbing his leg. "When I got a good sniff of Chip's breath I realized what must'a happened. I had widened the mpomwmmm@ w vent hole in my leg so I could stuff a grenade and the pistol barrel in, and I figured Chip needed the shooter more'n I did. Then those big bozos caught me asleep and drug me out; Stu ffed me into a room alone with one lousy high window. When I heard you guys strafing I knew it was time to pull that little grenade of Vic's outa my leg stash. Blew the window out with it. I ducked under some mats in a comer after I lit the ftise. Vic," he said, calling to the Texan who was scribbling in his notebook, "whenever I need a fireworks display, you're elected."

  "Well, it worked out, Coop," Lovett admitted. "Thanks to my ten-thousand-dollar chute. But next time-"

  Reventlo had been listening silently but now he sputtered, "Next time, Wade? As in, the next time you fly a live, fused suicide bomb against an island despot? Give us a break, mate." Reventlo had fallen into a dark mood, admitting that he was unable to reach a previously secret ambition. Halfway through a textbook-perfect landing, he'd struck a soft rut on the runway, nosing over with the tips of both propellers bent just badly enough to prevent his fkying the Betty to Yap. "I wanted to refuel and ferry the old iart on to Darwin by air," he admitted glumly, knowing that Vic Myles was taking it all down, not much caring.

  The village celebration turned into a three-day convention that began on Chip Mason's eighteenth birthday. It was attended by visitors who canoed from the north village, and Benteen did her best to explain to her friends what she only half understood. Several of Ohtsu's visiting womenfolk spent much of their time reviving auld acquaintance, gossiping with their southern kin. Dressed in silk kimonos, they made it obvi6us what had happened so long ago to those missing Japanese parachutes.

  Keikano could not do her usual interpreter chores because she took a prominent part in the pan-Fundabora discussions, dressed in an odd combination of silks. Seeing her without her breasts tightly wrapped, Lovett wondered how he had ever assumed she was male. Keikano, he had to admit, was something of a dessert dish after Benteen gave her a makeover that left old Ohtsu both amused and scandalized. As for Chip's reaction, Myles nailed the appropriate phrase: "horny as a Texas bull."

  Yohei Ohtsu, finally accepting that all his wars were over, was happy with the new order in which all villagers would simply vote for their island's leaders, rather than accept tie results of rigged combat games.

  He was happier till when he found himself voted First Minister to Rongi, though he thought it passing strange that the women should want to vote. After talks with Reventlo and Lovett, Ohtsu's first public recommendation was to commit all resources to preparing Fundabora as a resort again-at present, for senior citizens only. That would be necessary, he said, before they could entice an honest-to-God physician to the island-and to pay the doctor.

  That idea passed by acclamation. The United Fundabora Council ended with a wonderfully symbolic gesture by Rongi, who splintered his spear over his knee and tossed it, with the hated yellow fly whisk, into the council bonfire to thunderous cheers.

  In days, the council house was repaired, its lobby cleared of rubble.

  Chip, viewing the mound of piano parts, wondered aloud how they had ever fitted into the shape of a baby grand. When Reventlo suggested that a fund be set aside from the aircraft sales to import another piano, no one argued.

  It was another week before the chartered boat arrived, a much-modified LCT with a handmade deck of scarred timbers, an almost flat bottom, and room-barely-to take the Betty aboard.

  When they saw the LCT's whip antenna, the first thing Victor Myles did was to use the radio to call New York. Editor Beacham, no stranger to the Myles' brand of blamey, wasn't satisfied until both Reventlo and Melanie Benteen vouched for the story. Benteen's father was, after all, a legend and no one could -doubt the measured Briticisms of Flight Captain Reventlo.

  Coop Gunther made a call to Petersburg, Alaska-for all e good it did him. Apparently the major source of local news was Radio KFSK, and reporter Glenn Michaels had known Coop for years. "No, where are you, really," Michaels asked, loud enough that the entire B.O.F. crew could hear. "Best I could do is broadcast that story as a muskeg message to your friends out the road; both of 'em." When Coop repeated the truth he was told, "Sober up and come home, Coop, and see if the Petersburg Pilot will print it." Laughing, Michaels had hung up on the fuming Coop Gunther.

  After Benteen, Reventlo had his turn, and like a good businessman he called Cuffan Quinn. It seemed that Quinn hadn't been idle since Reventlo's call from Australia. He reported tentative offers for the Betty and two of the fighter craft, each for seven figures.

  Chip and Lovett took deep breaths and made the call they dreaded. Chip began with, "Hola, Domenica, thought I'd check in.-Hey, what's wrong?-Aw, cut it out, of course I'm okay; sure, him too.-Um, well, we went a little farther than, uh, is Mom there?-He is, is he? I could care less but I'd better have a word with Mom." The radio-telephone was an old-fashioned device. He spoke away from the mouthpiece: "Jeez, you'd think I was the long-lost son."

  "Actually, you are," Lovett reminded him.

  Back to the mouthpiece again: "Mom? Hi, Pop and I I have been out of touch awhile, sorry about-Well, I've got a great tan and a fianc6e, and I guess I'm a millionaite.-Oh. An island; Fundabora. You never heard of it.-Ah, a ways off the coast.-No ma'am, not exactly. The coast of Australia, actually.-No ma'am, I haven't touched a drop." He listened for another moment, then made a face and thrust the instrument out to his grandfather. "It's for you."

  For a long moment Lovett waited for an opening, but Roxy's conversation tachometer was redlined and he finally just cut through it. "Rbxanne."

  His most commanding voice; he hadn't used that tone with her since she was ten.

  He found it still worked as a shock tactic. "Roxy, I want you to know that Chip is exactly where he says he is, because he followed your orders and he's taken very good care of me.-Sure, activate the speakerphone for von Whatzis; it's not as if he had any say in this.

  There's no extradition from here anyhow, and if there
's a dim cap involved, von Wart should be wearing it. Our little mining venture has paid off, big time. You'll probably be reading about it, and Chip's a full partner.-You heard him right, her name's Keikano; o linguist and a schoolteacher. You'll love her. Chip certaini) does, and I admire his taste."

  He rolled his eyes for Chip's benefit. "All right then, yes you could say she's a native girl. Also the granddaughter ol the First Minister of the Republic of Fundabora.-Yes, Mr. Von, she's royalty of a sort. Chip's lucky to get her and ii case it's slipped your notice, Roxy, your son is now eighteen and I'm afraid he's gotten used to making decisions for him. self."

  He listened for half a minute. Then, "You'll have to ask him, Roxy, and my advice is to ask him very nicely. I'n urging him to make a trip home with Keikano before they tithe knot. There's talk of reopening a destination resort here and several of us will be staying on as consultants.-I can' say how long, but I can say we're very tight with the loca administration so I'm having my Varieze shipped here. Believe me, if the ship doesn't sink under our airplanes, I cai afford it.-Nope, Chip wasn't kidding; I'd say he's got mop assets than you do, Roxy. I believe he's bringing you some Fundaboran pearls."

  After listening again for a moment he burst into laughtei "No doubt you're a financial wizard, Mr. Von, I must admi I've always found your advice to this family fairly unique. I it weren't for you, I wouldn't have had to bug out like that I thank you; my grandson thanks you. My daughter may evei thank you, but I wouldn't count on it.-Say again, and tr not to slammer.-A position? Why not; as one of the impulsively senile, I'll be happy to employ you on the spot if, an, only if, you can answer one question here and now: who wil give us the best deal on a matched pair of Shokis?" H spelled it out,

  Sierra-Hotel-Oscar-Kilo-India, and waited, loving it.

  Presently he said, "Time's up, and I'm awfully sorry, but perhaps this work would be a bit out of your line. Our agent in Florida does know, and I've known him for forty years. A Shoki is an airplane, by the way.

  Nice try."

  His laughter had brought his newest friend awake, and the tiny saffron kitten now ffimst its head from his jacket pocket. He stroked its scruff gently. "Actually, Rox, I won't be ' y coming back anytime soon but you're welcome to visit. Invite Chip's piano teacher while you're at it; my treat.-Matter of fact, there's an islander I want you to meet. Name's Tasukete-Japanese for Mayday, more or less, and he's dime weeks old. A gift from Minister Ohtsu.-Of course he's a cat, but he doesn't know it yet.

  "Wups, captain's making signs I should wind it up. We've got airplanes to ship, and the sooner that's done, the sooner Chip will get a Qantas flight home.-Nah, he hasn't changed that much, but you'll have to get used to some tall tales from the world's youngest Boring Old Fart...