“As you can see, Tessa was most impressed by a group that passed this way not long ago in search of specimens. They employed a miniature zeppelin to move above the tree canopy. The natives were very much in awe of the machine, and so was I, I must admit.”

“Who were these people?” Gamay asked.

“I know only that they represented a French firm. You know how close-mouthed the French can be.”

“What happened to them?”

“I haven't the slightest idea. I heard they moved on. Maybe they were captured and eaten by the Chulo.” He laughed heartily at the prospect. “Which brings me back to the purpose of your visit. I thank you very much for warning me, but now that you know the dangers that lurk here, I trust you will go back to Dr. Ramirez with my appreciation.”

Gamay looked at the lowering afternoon sun. She and Paul knew that in the tropics the sun drops with the swiftness of a guillotine blade.

“It's a little late to be starting back,” she said. “What do you think, Paul?”

“It would be dangerous trying to navigate that river by night.”

Dieter frowned, then, seeing he was getting nowhere, smiled and said, “Well then, you will be my guests. Tomorrow you will get an early start after a good night's sleep.”

Gamay half heard his words. Tessa's head was no longer downcast. She was looking straight at Gamay, her eyes wide open, almost imperceptibly shaking her head. Paul caught the gesture as well.

They thanked Dieter for the refreshing drink and his offer of a place to stay and said they wanted to retrieve some gear from the boat. As they walked toward the river the natives shied away as if the couple were surrounded by an invisible force field.

Gamay made a pretense of checking the engine for oil.

“Did you see Tessa?” she said. “She was warning us.”

“No mistaking the terror in those eyes,” Paul said, examining the dip stick.

“What do you think we should do?”

“We don't have much choice. I'm not enthusiastic about spending the night here in Camp Happy, but I wasn't kidding. It would be crazy to run this river in the dark. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Yes, I do,” Gamay said, watching a bat the size of an eagle flit across the river in the failing light. “I suggest that we don't close our eyes at the same time.”

NUMA 2 - Blue Gold

CHAPTER 9

As Austin scudded through the blue-green Baja waters on the back of a mini-submersible, he wondered how a National Geographic photographer filming a whale migration would react if a man riding a giant boot suddenly appeared in his camera's viewfinder. Perched outside, like a rumble seat passenger in an old roadster, Austin could see Joe's head and shoulders outlined by the blue light from the control computer screen inside the watertight cockpit.

Unknown

Zavala's metallic voice crackled in the headphones of Austin's underwater communicator. “How's the weather out there, cap?”