"Which was?"

Maibang wagged his head sorrowfully. "We sensed its existence and we used our powers to take it, but we never saw it. The ex­treme effort strained our sorcerers. At the last moment, as the cargo was coming to us, a rival tribe who coveted our power used their own magic to divert its path. We were too weak to resist. Their victory over us gained them great mans, great power. They became the dominant force on our island. Your government knows the rest: how their power and their greed leave no ship or airplane safe for a thousand kilometers around. It has gone on for seven years, with the powers of... our enemies growing ever greater."

Chester sighed. "Do I gather you can't tell us the name of this enemy tribe?"

"You catch on quick, bwana. Nope, to use the name of so pow­erful a tribe without their prior permission is much bad mana. So my people made contact with yours to strike a bargain. We will help a small group of Europeans into the lands held by the Enemy. You steal back what you can, and get it out. The Enemy will lose mana, and we will regain our power. We will then sign a treaty with you binding us to take only cargo intended for us by God-Manup, and none of yours, as long as you hold to the same agreement."

"And why should we trust you to keep your promises?~ Chester gave Maibang his most beneficent smile.

"Because we are not Europeans," Maibang answered humbly. "Jee-zuss," S. J. Waters exclaimed. "We are a long way out." Chester slid over to the nearest window. "We're over the ocean

I don't see any points of reference yet..."

"Islands over here, Chester," S.J. called from the other side of the copter. He shaded his eyes against the glare. "~ think we've got Hawaii here."

"Then we're halfway," Chester said to himself.

Acacia said, "That's Oahu, I think."

"Don't know, hon. I've never flown this-" Tony caught him­self. "Damn. I mean I've never been to Hawaii. It's just too easy to forget that this isn't real."

"So stop trying."

Tony grinned uneasily. "Last gasps of sanity, I guess."

"Then breathe deep, lover. The air gets pretty thin from here on out."

The Phoenix began to judder, and Captain Stimac's voice sounded over the intercom. "We're about to hit rough weather, people. Please notice that the seat belt warning is in effect, and comply with it. Thank you."

Chester waved a finger at Maibang. "Don't you die on me now. I've got to get a lot more out of you."

Maibang grinned and promised nothing.

There were dark clouds ahead now, and already the sky was dimming. The Phoenix dipped as if hitting an air pocket, and a unanimous "Ooh!" was followed by a whoop from Mary-em.

The clouds came fast. They were ugly, boiling with light and dark grays; ominous flashes of fire played within. The Phoenix was swallowed into the storm, and turbulence shook them like a giant child playing with a toy.

Lightning glared eye-splitting bright to starboard. The craft dropped and shook with the force of the thunderclap.

Acacia screamed delightedly and threw her arms around Tony. He grabbed back, yelling at the top of his voice. Rain pelted the sides of the Phoenix, and the engines whined in protest as it tried to climb and stabilize. Again and again their eyes and ears were assaulted by monstrous bursts of light and sound, until it seemed that the Phoenix was coming apart in midair. The whisper of the engines changed to an ominous growling vibration. Between light­ning flashes, nothing could be seen outside, and as the lights failed in the plane Tony found himself kissing Acacia with something akin to genuine terror in his heart.

At last the storm lightened, and some sunlight peeped through the cloud. There was a stir at the back of the cabin, Gamers push­ing and shoving at the windows. The pair looked out to see what the trouble was.

Tony looked out on a broad, rounded wing studded with thou­sands of rivets. The motor housing was huge, and the air before it

was blurred. Its voice was a shattering roar, like the devil let loose on Earth.

"Wings. I will be go to hell. We've got wings and rivets and propellers!"

Acacia squeezed past him and pressed her face to the glass. To the rear she could just see the tail stabilizers. As applause and whistles broke out, she shook her head admiringly.

"It's got to be a mid-nineteen-hundreds model of something or other," Tony said softly.

S. J. Waters had the answer. "Wowie! A DC-3, a Goonie Bird! Hey, these things were supposed to be half-magical anyway."

Clusters of passengers began to sing. Fragments of verse cele­brating the adventures of Kafoozalem and Eskimo Nell were heard above the roar of the engines. Offie's high voice rang out:

"Oh, the camel has a lot of fun, His night begins when ours is done, He always gets two humps for one, As he revels in the joys of fornication!"

And half the Garners bellowed a ragged chorus:

"Cats on the rooftops, cats on the tiles-"

The air had cleared. The plane dipped into a cloud deck and out the bottom. Ollie sang, "The hippo's rump is big and round-"

"Islands," the redheaded Dark Star said, and the song died in mid-leer.

They were coming up on the sub-continent itself, and Chester announced above the roar, "We seem to be approaching New Guinea from the Bismarck Sea... those might be the Finis­terre Mountains, only about three thousand meters, we can clear those. - ."

The view below was an explosion of dense greens and browns, vegetation crowding from the rich soil in rich profusion. The Finisterre Mountains ruled the Huon Peninsula, overlooking Vi­tiaz Strait, and in the crystal-clear air they seemed close enough to reach out and touch. The DC-3 skimmed over them and reoriented north. Soon they were crossing swamps and marshy areas. Captain Stimac's voice buzzed from the intercom.

"We~ will be reaching Chambri Lake in a few minutes. It's the landmark for the landing strip which has been cleared for us. In fact, I think I see..." There was a pause, and the plane bucked

in the air. This time the bucking became a jarring side pull that bounced Acacia against her seat belt. "Wait just a minute-that's not the right lake, but something... uh! Move, godamit!" Stimac began swearing in panic. The plane was sliding down the sky; the motors screamed. Stimac shouted, "I can't move the controls! They're moving themselves!"

Hands gripped seats and faces went white as the swamps rose toward them, rotating now. There was light down there, and water

a sheen of water directly below the plane's nose, and two lines of lights glowing on the water... and a tower.

"It's pulling us in," Chester said. He was squeezed up against a window, and his mouth hung a little open. Not frightened, but fas­cinated.

Kasan was in the aisle, waving his arms and chanting in an un­known language, while two Garners held him steady with hands on his belt.

Tony almost forgot his own fear as he stared out. Closer now and the control tower was only wickerwork on pontoons, and

the lights were floating torches tethered by ropes, forming lines too close together to make a real runway. It was a mockery of an airport laid out on water.

The mock-airport veered sideways, and gee forces pulled sav­agely at the passengers. The DC-3 pulled out of its dive. The wing on the right side bent far enough to pop two lines of rivets, then eased back into place; but fluid was streaming from where the metal had crinkled. Stimac's intercom voice screamed, "Got it! I think we're all right now. Whatever it was, it's- Oh shiti" as the ‘wing unrolled a flapping flag of red-and-yellow flame.

"I've got to get us down," said the crackling intercom voice. "Brace yourselves. This isn't going to be neat." They were barely at treetop level, trailing flame and black smoke. "I'll try for Chambri Lake. There are life rafts in the rear of the plane . ."