ron Goulart - Challengers of the Unknown (15 page)

"Kee-rist," said Rocky, "don't tell me Chote is a turncoat, too?"

Hentoff laughed. "Have no fear, Rocky. Holden remains as innocent and loyal as a newborn babe. I, on the other hand, can be sorely tempted by large amounts of untraceable cash."

"So you went to work for the Nazis," said Red as he took two steps away from the desk.

"There's more to it than that, Red. Perhaps you haven't as yet heard about Chanza's plans to eventually nationalize all the oil fields in Ereguay," said Hent-off. "General Cuerpo's move to overthrow Chanza was financed by more than just a bunch of Nazis."

"PetroSur," said Red.

Hentoff glanced fleetingly at the balcony and then back at the Challengers. "I've been listening behind the secret door for several minutes," he told them. "I'm saddened by the general's demise. He really had a very good chance of getting rid of Chanza for us."

"You should be able to find another general," Red said. "South America is crawling with them."

"Yes, but it will mean—"

"Kee-rist!" Rocky was hopping, pointing to the sunny balcony. "The old bastard ain't dead! He's getting up out of his chair!"

Hentoff turned to see.

Red dived for the floor, flipped over and came up in a perfect position to kick Hentoff in the abdomen with both booted feet. He did that.

Doubling, expelling air, gagging, Hentoff tried to use his pistol.

Red kept him from doing that. He chopped it from the American's hand.

Rocky snorted, chuckling. "The old dodges are the best."

Tossing Hentoff into the general's desk chair, Red said, "Stay there." "You think he really will?"

"Who and what?"

"Give us medals, President Chanza," said Rocky. He let go of the jeep's steering wheel to pat the place on his broad chest where he'd like to see the medal hung.

Red grinned out at the late afternoon jungle they were passing through. "Not a good idea to wear too many medals. They get caught on things."

"Aw, one little medal would be okay," said Rocky. "And, see, I figure if I was a decorated hero hereabouts, it'd give me a little extra clout."

"Didn't realize you were in the need of clout."

Rocky scowled. "Don't laugh now when I tell you this."

"Promise not to."

"I'd like to do something for them little kids. You know, them little kids in the
barrio.
Start some kind of charity thing, to see they all get shoes to wear and the right food to eat."

Red said, "That's a nice idea, Rocky." "With a medal I can maybe throw my weight around more. I know there are already outfits trying to help out, but they ain't doing a good enough job."

"Once we get back to San James, you can get to work on something. I'm pretty sure Chanza will help you."

"It still depends on if he really delivers on the medal," said Rocky. "Today, when we went over all the documents and stuff we found at Cuerpo's, plus that bastard Hentoff and the general's body . . . naturally President Chanza's going to be favorably inclined. But how about in a few days?"

"Since we helped thwart a plot to knock him out of office, he should keep looking on us with favor," said Red. "I also think he's the sort of guy who follows through on his promises."

Rocky eased a packet of carrot sticks out of his royal purple tunic. "Had a hell of a time finding organic carrots anywheres. Want one?"

"Pass."

"You ought to be more careful with your diet. Otherwise you're going to end up looking like General Cuerpo."

"Okay, I'll have one."

"Here," said Rocky, passing the packet. "You don't think Prof is goofy, do you?"

"Sure, he's goofy. Why?"

"What I'm getting at is, did he really see that monster in the lake?"

"He says he did."

"Prof says a lot of things which ain't eventually true."

"I sense," said Red after a nibble at his hunk of carrot, "some motive beneath your queries." "If Prof could convince 'em there's a monster in Lake Sombra, then he can spend more time out there with June."

"Rocky, do you remember our activities of earlier today? When we invaded the general's house by way of the rooftops?"

"Sure, I remember. What's that got to do with Prof making time with Juney?"

"When it came time to jump from roof to roof, you didn't hesitate. You didn't try to think up some alibi to give to anybody who might have noticed us. You simply jumped."

"That's the best way to do it."

"Exactly, and it's the same with girls."

"You mean I should jump on 'em?"

"Not literally, but you have to be as direct as you are in the other areas of your life," advised Red. "What I'm trying to get you to see . . . Prof doesn't make up yarns as an excuse to spend time with ladies. See?"

"He's a pretty tricky guy."

"Tricky, yes, but direct."

Rocky said, "You figure he ain't been out here making points with June?"

"Maybe he has. If you want to get June interested in you, you have to take a more direct approach."

"I ain't cut out for romancing broads."

Red said, "Maybe you'll feel differently once you get your medal."

A blue tranquillity surrounded them.

"Not a bad jalopy," commented Ace, who was at the controls of the borrowed minisub.

"Exactly what one would expect from the people who gave us the Volkswagen." Prof sat sideways in the passenger seat, getting into his diving gear.

"Sure you want to head out there?"

"I'm equipped." He touched at a holster rigged around his middle.

"You've seen more of this creature's handiwork than I have. He's a rough one."

"You have a nice flair for understatement. The thing is not only rough, he's ferocious."

"I don't want to see you torn limb from limb."

"You can, should that sad event occur, always avert your eyes," Prof told him. "We talked this all over when we were still at our home base in Colorado. The gear we brought down should be sufficient to overcome our monster."

"Should be," said Ace slowly.

"I'm damn certain, Ace, there's not another creature like this on earth. I want to capture this one."

Eyes on the milky-blue waters of the lake of shadows, Ace asked, "You buy the theory die old professor handed June? Think this thing is an alien, from some other planet?"

"He has an unearthly air about him. Which is another reason I'd like to get him someplace where we can study him."

Ace checked the control panel. "We're just about at the spot where you saw him last night."

Nodding, Prof got up. "You sure Esther Williams started this way?" He climbed down to the exit chamber.

When he was completely ready to go, Prof allowed the chamber to eject him out the bottom hatch and into the chill lake waters.

"We are now passing through a veritable water wonderland," he said into the microphone built into his breathing mask. "All about us Mother Nature's wet wonders beckon—"

"Okay, okay," came Ace's voice into the earphone in Prof's diving cap. "Stow the travelogue."

"One thing I am not noticing," said Prof as he frog-kicked away from the minisub. "No fish." He clicked on the waterproof underwater light strapped to his left wrist.

"Go careful, Prof. Could mean your creature's hanging around close by."

Bubbles from his air tanks trailed him as Prof swam lower. "When I retire I think I'll buy a couple acres down here. Build myself a nice little undersea ranch house and settle down. Or possibly an undersea housing development. Want me to reserve ... oops!"

"Something?"

"Sea monster at three o'clock," said Prof in a slightly awed voice. "He's about two hundred yards from me and I can just make him out in the lights from the sub "

"Get yourself ready."

"Now I lay me down to sleep," recited Prof.

"The gun? Have you got it out and set for maximum?"

"Ace, I can safely assure you, based on my performance just now, that I'm the fastest gun in Lake Sombra."

"I can see him, don't know if he .. . Yep, he's going to come at the cabin."

"Noticed that." Prof was already swimming back toward the stationary minisub. "Get breathing gear on, in case—-"

"Pressure's likely to do me in if he smashes this cabin, but I'm prepared."

In his bare hand Prof held a long-barreled black pistol. There was a clear plastic bubble where the cartridge cylinder would be on a regular revolver, and inside the bubble was an intricacy of wires and tiny tubes.

Prof noticed his hand was quivering slightly.

Only a few feet directly above him was the white-streaked underside of the creature.

It spun, came diving straight for him.

Prof swung at the water with his left arm, kicked with his flippered feet and got himself out of the path of the thing.

As it passed him, the eyes in its terrible face glared directly into his. They were awesome eyes, evil and oddly glowing.

Prof was elsewhere, all at once.

There was a greenish mist swirling all around him. The ground underfoot was swampy, sucking at his scaly feet as he made his way across it.

High above him, huge black birds wheeled through the misty sky, their dry, scaly wings tinted by a fuzzy orange sun. The trees were twisted and stunted, smeared with blue moss that glowed faintly.

To his right, someone, something, was moving. Prof was aware of a large dark figure lurching forward through the green mist. They were both, he realized, heading in the same direction and sharing the same destination.

There were others moving with them, their shapes forming and fading in the flux of the mist.

He didn't want to go there. But he could not stop himself.

A temple loomed suddenly up ahead.

Built in a style which was both vaguely familiar and unsettlingly alien. Its green-tinted facade was illuminated by hundreds of handheld torches. Crowded across the temple courtyard were hundreds of men, each holding a torch aloft.

Not men, no. Creatures, Prof realized. Green, scaly, manlike creatures.

Creatures like . . . himself.

He held up his hands. But they weren't his, they were green leathery things. Claws protruding from each gnarled finger.

Where was he? Where was this elsewhere? How could he—

"Prof! What's wrong?" came a voice.

Who was that?

Someone he knew. Someone he knew on the other side.

The doorway glowed and throbbed. They were approaching him, hundreds of them, their feet rasping on the stones of the temple courtyard.

He did not want to cross that threshold, did not want to begin that exile.

Prof tried to struggle. They grabbed him, their rough hands seeking his throat.

"Prof! Prof! I've lost sight of you! Where are you?"

Blue water foamed all around him.

The taloned fingers were at his throat.

With an immense effort, Prof brought up both knees and then shoved with them.

The creature was wrenched free of him, went spiral-ing away.

"Prof!"

"It's okay, Ace," he replied in a voice which sounded to him very unlike his own. "I was daydreaming."

"Daydreaming?"

"Tell you later."

The lake creature was charging at him again, teeth showing in a vicious snarl.

Prof went somersaulting out of the way.

But as it passed him, its sharp-clawed fingers raked his right hand.

Blood came out in ribbony swirls.

And the pistol fell from his grip.

Prof twisted, went diving after the falling gun.

It plummeted down and down, eluding him, through the water.

The creature didn't pursue him. It was going for the sub again.

Finally Prof, kicking with great force, caught hold of the weapon. He closed bloody fingers over the stock.

Shining his light like a beacon ahead of him, he went climbing back through the dark waters.

The creature glowed above him. Its green fists were pounding at the glass of the control cabin.

"Prof?" called Ace's voice.

"Watch out, Acel"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, merely a mite clumsy. Hang on." Prof swam close to die attacking creature, aimed the gun and squeezed the trigger. An aftershock went ratcheting up his arm, jerked his elbow.

The huge scaly creature dealt one more blow to the cabin. It pushed away from the sub, turned to face Prof.

He fired the stunpistol again. Shock waves went ringing through the water.

The creature screamed, but Prof heard nothing. Its fearful mouth was wide open in a cry of pain.

Those eyes glowed at him again, seeming to burn away the churned water between them.