The third guard leapt, clasped an islander in front of him as he drew his gun, fired over the man's shoulder. The bullet spanged dust from the passage floor. Sama's sleep gun was now clear. So was Randy's. He had reacted lightning fast. Both fired together. One dart hit the islander. The other hit the guard in the shoulder. It threw his gun-arm off-target.

Sama yelled to the islanders: "Come!" and hustled Randy along the passage. At the end, Randy was sick.

Sama ignored him and silenced the jabbering islanders.

"One," he said, holding up a finger. "One who speaks as I speak. Understand?"

A short, bow-legged man came forward, sweat pouring, dust-caked, but grinning widely, like a gaping pea-pod. "I am very good speaker. Much schoolman, with the books and the pens. You not American?"

"European — you savvy?"

"Ah yes. France, Germany, Holland, England — on the map I see."

"What is your name?"

"Hiho."

"Okay, Hiho — you speak. I listen. Tell me what is from here to the valley?"

Hiho was quick. He understood what was needed. Then Sama said: "You stay here. We send for you when it is safe."

"No, please!" Hiho jabbered at his companions. Several ran back into the cavern, returning with armfuls of shovels and the two whips.

Sama shrugged. "It's your war as well as ours. Let's go get 'em!"

The story wasn't difficult to piece together. April Dancer, Mark Slate and their European colleagues had experienced this THRUSH pattern of divide and rule many times before. Sometimes it was a society or organization founded by sincere do-gooders that THRUSH infiltrated — first by buying in, then by appointing their own men to key positions. At times they worked with speed, at others they moved slowly. The end was the same. THRUSH had a "front" behind which they could prepare their current project.

On this occasion, it happened to be an island in the sun. Small, unimportant historically or economically, with a population much inter-married, simple, and mainly unambitious. A happy people, though not without their family squabbles, not caring for political or other dogmas, and following their own patterns of tribal religions and traditional loyalties to one Chief, who acted as High Priest, Prime Minister, Judge and benign Father-figure.

Numbers of missionaries, visiting Westerners, social workers, had all left their mark in superficial ways, but nothing had really changed the pattern of the centuries. The islanders still lived in their long houses, still interbred and intermarried. Their harbour was rebuilt. A Palaga company set up a warehouse and several stores. The islanders learned about money, but it didn't affect them very much until the school was built and George Lodori became their first resident teacher. Education changed the children and the younger parents. An increase of tourism sharpened their commercial interest. The tiny radio station had been a nine-day wonder, but not until a few youngsters were trained to operate it did the islanders grasp even a part of its importance.

April Dancer could not assess the actual date when THRUSH first became active on Taradata, but there was no doubt that George Lodori was their first contact. Chief Kuala remembered how Lodori had come back from a holiday on the mainland a changed man — and had a lot of money too. Perhaps he'd always been a THRUSH supporter? Perhaps that was the time they bought him? It didn't really matter. THRUSH was now on the island via a key person in the community. Perhaps Lodori had sold them an idea, himself unaware of its potential when linked to THRUSH aims? That too had happened before to inventors, designers, creators of new processes, instruments and machines.

The build-up progressed by careful stages. Lodori was completely trusted by Chief Kuala. The project of exporting the traditional small boats of Taradata launched. THRUSH paid high prices for these early boats. The islanders had never seen so much money for what seemed to them such very easy work. And slowly their way of life was transformed. Machinery was brought in. Younger men were taught to use it. The chief's young cousin Tom-Tom was made overseer of this part of the work, given power and money. With true nepotism he gathered his own family around him, giving them the well-paid jobs. And THRUSH policy became implemented more and more.

Then came the Padracks to teach selected islanders, chosen by Tom-Tom, a new form of work with chemicals and instruments, such as microscopes, slides, testing retorts, and simple routine laboratory work. Visitors became more frequent, stayed longer in the new house built by Lodori and the Padracks next to the laboratory at the end of the work sheds.

High pay was offered and training given to operate machines tunnelling into the headland beneath the Taramao forest. Chief Kuala's authority grew less and less, although the traditional respect of his islanders remained. But the pattern of daily work now became established, with Tom-Tom the leader of all those employed.

THRUSH allowed Kuala to remain as chief, providing he didn't try to interfere with their plans. For a long time he wasn't able to, because his people never had it so good. But THRUSH slowly withdrew the high pay and easy working conditions until the islanders found themselves working almost as slave labour under the now powerful Tom-Tom, who was using his chosen henchmen as overseers.

The production pressure had increased over the previous six months as the islanders' freedom became even more restricted. The one occasion when, by tradition, everyone stopped work was when Island Traveller docked. Then, previously, everyone had put on their gayest sarongs, the girls fixed flowers in their hair, the pearl divers swam around the pleasure boats — though there wasn't much of a pearl-diving industry since the oyster beds had been depleted by disease a few years back — and a high holiday enjoyed by all. Now, the islanders were not allowed to leave their work. The harbour area was fenced off. Those who did not work under Tom-Tom were threatened by his guards if they dared to approach the dock.

Chief Kuala immediately protested, declaring he would tell his people to stop working. But he and those who openly supported him were swiftly overpowered and taken to the new huts which Lodori had said were to be storehouses but which, obviously, had been prepared for just such a purpose. THRUSH domination of the island was complete. So was the disillusionment of the majority of its people.

U.N.C.L.E. agents had proof of this as the chief led the way through the first long house. The islanders flocked around him. He spoke to them quietly. The men sent the women and children to the far end of the house, collected their serengatas — a sharp-edged, sword-shaped piece of wood fashioned from roots of the tara tree, not unlike a panga — and followed their chief to the next house.

Division of the islanders into Tom-Tom's followers and Chief "Boy" Kuala's loyalists had become so fierce in the past weeks that the families no longer shared the same long house. Thus the success of THRUSH policy now assisted April, her colleagues and Kuala's men in speeding through the valley, collecting followers as they went. A few young men, caught as they visited girlfriends, were beaten up by the serengatas and roughly passed back to the women, who had formed themselves into a sort of corps of protective- custody guards, under the leadership of Kuala's wife.

Kuala admitted being puzzled by the rapid growth of Tom-Tom's power during the past week or so. In the next house they discovered that Mareet, Kuala's old enemy, had been kept prisoner up in Taramao since he had protested about conditions. He had died and been buried up there — leaving Tom-Tom in full power.