Second Wind Part 36

As we sat in the seats behind the pilot's, I said to Robin, "You heard Amy say the island's hers? " He nodded.

"She maintains it's hers as no one else had set foot on it for months. Some sort of ancient law, I believe. " "She said I'd never been here. " "Yes, " Robin said, explaining, "she wants her claim unopposed.

" "I suppose you know, " I said to Darcy, "she stands to make a million or so from pasteurization techniques if she can keep that herd of cattle isolated. You must actually know that, as you helped her chase off the whole population with your radioactive mushrooms. You came back and tested that herd again in radiation protection suits the day you took me blindfolded to Cayman. The herd isn't radioactive and will be worth several fortunes... maybe. " "How do you mean... maybe? " I said, resigned, "I drank the milk of those cows, and it gave me a unique illness now called Mycobacterium para tuberculosis Chand-Stuart X. " He said with understanding, "So that's why you were in that hospital! But you've obviously thrown it off. That won't prove that you were on the island. " "The antibodies will. " He said, "Oh, " and then, "Oh, " again. "And culture dishes by the hundred, I suppose. " "Those too. " "So you can prove you were on the island. " I said, "Not only that. Amy won't like the illness you can get if there is a glitch in pasteurization. It's a fierce disease, acute at first and lingering after. It seems I still have weeks of treatment ahead before I'm cured. " I didn't care much to think about it, and to change the subject I said to Robin, "What became of the original folder full of letters in strange foreign scripts? " "The one you saw here, that you managed to get out of the safe? " "That one, " I agreed.

"I was astounded when John Rupert reported you'd seen it. " "But you came back here for it, " I said. "And you took it away the day you shipped me blindfolded to Cayman, and thank you for that. " He smiled. "It didn't fool you, though. " "Just saved me from a watery grave. " "Michael was all for dumping you"--Robin nodded, and went on with gloom--"and he was also keen to get on with making profits from the orders in the folder, as there had already been too many delays, so he took it when I wasn't looking. " Robin had had trouble with the Traders insisting on doing their own thing. He said, "Only last night Michael told me he wasn't very good with all those different scripts so he had given the folder to Amy to put it back in the safe here on Trox Island with all her cow stuff while he worked out what to do, and as far as I know it's still there. That must be one of the reasons why Michael will fight anyone anywhere, because he's made a fool of himself. " "Do you want that folder? " I asked.

"Of course. But the safe won't open. " "Who says? " I asked.

"Amy says it won't open so no one can take her cattle records. " "It might not matter, " I said. I brought Jason Wells's careful envelope of photos out of my holdall. "I took all of these on the island, " I said.

"The first ones are of the raked clean mushroom sheds before the hurricane, and of the village and cattle before the hurricane, and the last one of cows and the three of the foreign scripts are from after. " Robin looked with fascination at the pictures of the scripts.

"I'll use these, " he said. "Better than nothing. " I opened the aircraft's rear unfolding door and stairs and, blown sideways by the wind, I walked down them, not blindfolded and with clothes and shoes on, and Robin hesitantly stopped, holding onto the handrails.

"Come on, " I encouraged him. "There's no danger of radi|

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at ion The residents here were scared away by something like George Loricroft's little packet of alpha particle powder, which gave off a lot of noise but made no one sick. " Robin shrugged and followed me down the steps, and we walked in the bl.u.s.tery wind together towards the second of the thick-walled huts.

There were bulls about in the ruined village, and Friesian cows that mooed and rubbed against me, as I patted them with fondness despite the rotten time they'd given me. They were, after all, the world's only source of Mycobacterium para tuberculosis Chand-Stuart X. Robin and I went into the hut away from the gathering gale, and looked at the safe.

Robin tried 4373 3673 (HERE FORD) and nothing happened.

"Amy's right, " he said, frustrated. "It doesn't open. " "Try 3673 4373, " I said, "FORD HERE. " Robin gave me a gruesome look of skepticism but punched in the numbers. Still nothing, still immovable door.

"Hopeless, " Robin said. "Amy was right. " "Amy was right, " I agreed. "Amy knows her way about video rentals, and she may know about pasteurization, and she also knows about safes. " "How do you mean? " "There's no electricity on this island, " I said.

"I know that... " "So what powers the safe door? " Robin, clever in all ways except in elementary science, frowned and didn't answer.

"Batteries, " I said.

I slid downwards the small metal plate located under the display of numbers and letters, and there, side by side, stood a row of three very ordinary double-A batteries.

"But, " Robin objected, "it's got batteries in it, and it still doesn't open. " I said, "It's got three batteries, but it's got s.p.a.ce for four.

I.

fished in my holdall, brought out the unopened pack of four double A's that I had bought with my camera, and, removing the three old ones, I pushed the four new ones into place and closed the flap.

I pressed 4373 3673, listened to the sharp click, lifted the flat lever upwards and opened the door.

Inside there was Amy's row of cattle files and one familiar buff folder. I lifted it out, checked its contents and with a slightly ceremonial gesture handed it to Robin.

Astonished, he said, "How did you know how to open it? " I answered him,

"I spent four days alone on this island. I know this safe well. I discovered its pa.s.sword. I checked its batteries. I just couldn't decipher the scripts. " "I'll get that done, " Robin said. "I'll use them. Nothing you have done will be wasted. "

I.

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EPILOCUE.

VNWIN FLEW THROUGH Hurricane Sheila.

He flew three straight pa.s.ses through the eye at ten thousand feet and leveled the fuel in the tanks as a matter of course.

Downsouth's turbo-prop twin, in his hands, took Category 3 pressures and wind speeds as merely numbers that he dictated for me to write down.

I didn't weep in the eye. The science was accurate, but the heart-wrench was missing.

Robin looked thoughtful and was airsick.

I carried the rescued folder in the holdall and Robin showed me, a few weeks later, several short handwritten notes in Hebrew, Greek, Russian and Arabic.

"They say thank you, " he said.

By then I'd returned to the BBC and put on for the winter the Edwardian cape-coat version of me, and over in Kensington John Rupert in pleased surprise said his superior officer wanted Perry Stuart raised to "need to know" status.

I and Ghost, thin white-haired grandfather, bounced vigorous young tempests into unputdownable textbooks that I signed by the hundreds in schools, and after that in five hundreds in bookstores.

I seldom saw Kris. One sordid anecdote too many scuppered his job finally with the BBC, despite his Norse G.o.d look-alike presence. No longer talking of trains, he spent the insurance from the Luton crunch on a drama course and let out his extravagant nature playing super heroes

Bell, who phoned me often for advice as a brother, swung as ever between love and exasperation, nuptials on, nuptials off, indecision rules, O. K. Behind my back my faithfulJett van Els conspired with my grandmother to make my Monday morning impulse irreversible, but with contentment we came in time to

"I do, ""I do, " and I gave her a ring and a promise.

Under the successful exterior, the damage inflicted on me by Michael Ford still stung as a painful memory, try as I might to ignore it. To have been smashed to a standstill by a thug, I told myself, wasn't an abject disgrace, it was one of life's little hiccups. Try telling that to the winds!

In Robin's dangerous double life, the Unified Trading Company faded away, to be replaced by new recruits who understood from day one that action first, report later was the wrong way round.

The Traders atrophied, the Select Group bloomed.

Evelyn left Robin with a goodbye note.

Jett stayed at home when Robin Darcy and I drove from his home in Miami to Florida's capital, Tallaha.s.see, to hear Amy's claim to be the owner of Trox Island.

I gave evidence with photographs of having been there.

Ravi Chand clinched things with New Delhi grins, and Amy lost her claim but kept her cows.

Michael came to the hearing, too close on my horizon.

Michael's hunger, like a lion's, was awake and prowling.