No Contest

Petyr pretended to ignore the guide’s comments, but he was listening closely. The guide was getting suspicious. He was apparently not quite as half-witted as he acted.

“I will tell you a secret if you can keep silent.”

“Sure. No worries, mate,” the guide said.

Petyr could tell the guy was playing up the Aussie-talk. “See, the promoters are afraid someone might be hurt when the race is here at Jaiboru. I am giving the crocs a little something to make them more gentle.”

“Gentle crocs, huh? ’At’s a good one, mate.”

“That is why I must not give any of them more than one dose. I don’t want them to become too sedated.”

“I hope not. Them crocs is our best tourist attraction. Not that we ever had tourists before now.”

The guide seemed pleased to know the secret, and he was pleased at the bonus Petyr offered to help him keep the secret.

“I think we got about every croc this side of the ridge. You gonna dump your leftovers someplace safe, I hope?”

“Where?” Petyr asked. “Where would be a safe place where no crocs could get an extra serving?”

“I know just the place.” The guide took him to the shore and pointed up. “That ugly rock. Dump the leftovers up there and the birds’ll eat it. Nobody’ll care if a few of them buzzards keel over.”

Petyr agreed. He jogged up the footpath to the rocky top and emptied his bag. The scavenger birds were already circling.

“That stink travels fast.” The guide chuckled.

Petyr took out a book and began to read as the guide set about rowing them back.

They were miles from Jaiboru and the dawn was still a half-hour away. Now was the time to erase the problem of the nosy guide. When they had gone but a hundred yards, Petyr stretched and grabbed a bottle of water.

“Like one?” He held it up.

“No, thanks,” the guide said from the rear of the rowboat.

Petyr took out the small air gun. The dart was loaded with enough serum to knock out a big croc. It would have more permanent results on a scrawny Aussie. Petyr turned in his seat and triggered the gun. The yellow feathers glanced off the guide’s arm, but they left a scarlet rip in the flesh. That was all Petyr saw before the guide splashed into the swamp water.

“Why’d ya do it, mate?” the guide demanded.

Petyr inserted a second dart and fired. This time the guide ducked under the water and the dart missed him entirely, but the crocs wouldn’t miss him. A big one was already closing in fast.

The guide slurred drunkenly when he surfaced, but he couldn’t scream. He got enough of a dose so he had to fight to stay conscious, but he’d have been better off letting blackness take him. Then he wouldn’t have been aware of the croc clamping his body in its great jaws and taking him under.

Petyr took the oars and stroked leisurely back to town, enjoying the outback daybreak.

Chapter 22

Smith was always gray. Today he was a corpse. A corpse that munched antacids like peanuts.

“He can’t be serious.” Mark Howard gave a little disbelieving laugh.

“Looks serious to me.”

“It’s a canny concept, actually,” Mark said, and Smith looked morose. “Think about it, Dr. Smith. Unattainable celebrity women losing control and getting naked on TV for some guy off the street. And he’ll do it every week. It’s got everything the public wants.”

“It’s got our enforcement arm putting himself on television,” Smith said miserably. “You’re right. It was a canny move. He socked CURE right in the stomach.”

Chiun sat in his seat and fastened his belt, then fixed his gaze on Remo Williams. Remo ignored him for what seemed like hours.

“Go on,” Remo said finally. “You’ve got a lot to say. Let’s hear it.”

“I do not know where to begin.”

“You usually start with a little name-calling, then move into blaming me for whatever, then tie it up with how your life is made awful by your association with me.”

“This is a joke to you, Remo? You find all of it amusing?”

“I’m smiling to mask the pain.”

“You jest to hide your shame”

“Shouldn’t you be watching the wing? It looks wobbly.”

“Master Yeou Gang, the Fool, he also was full of self-loathing for the vile thing he had done. Like you, he prostituted himself. He traded on his talents for gold.”

“What did he do that was so awful? Kill somebody?”