The phone rang. "Yeah?"

"Kit," Malcolm said in his ear, "this is really interesting: Phil just left Goldie Morran's. I asked around and people said he's been spending a lot of time with her. A lot of time."

Kit narrowed his eyes. -Goldie? Why would Phil Jones be spending time with an expert on currency, precious metals, and..."

It hit him. Kit widened his eyes and stared at the map. "My God..."

"What?" Malcolm asked sharply.

"Hang on. Hell, get back here. I have to pull a couple of files off the mainframe."

He hung up and swung around, accessing the library's mainframe in a fever of impatience. He sped through several files, correlating data against a search of known mineral sites-and hit paydirt. Kit whistled softly and sat back in his chair.

His office door crashed back. Malcolm was panting. "What?"

Kit swung his chair around. "Diamonds. That stupid little featherbrain has gone after a diamond source deBeers doesn't control."

"Diamonds?" Malcolm stared at the chart. "But Kit ... the nearest diamond fields must be, what, five or six hundred miles from Delagoa Bay?"

"Five hundred miles along the Limpopo River valley," Kit said grimly, punching up the chart from the file he'd accessed, "would put you right there."

A geologic map flashed up.

"What's up there? I thought the South African diamond sites were farther south in the Kimberley region or much farther west in the Kalahari?"

Kit strode around his desk and stabbed a finger toward a spot on the Limpopo just east of the confluence with the Shashe River coming down from the Botswana-Zimbabwe border. "That, my friend, is the site of the Seta Mine. Alluvial deposits in potholes along the Limpopo, gravel matrix rich in all kinds of goodies. Garnets, jade, corundum, gold, diamonds ... That idiot grandkid of mine has vanished into the heart of Africa on a harebrained scheme to bring back diamonds. Bet you the Neo Edo on it. And I can tell you exactly who put her up to it."

Malcolm groaned and said something profoundly ugly.

Kit ran a hand through his hair. "We were in Goldie's shop when I told Margo she was through as a trainee scout. And that avaricious, conniving, greedy old..." He couldn't even finish the tirade. "When I get through with Goldie Morran, she's going to wish she'd never laid eyes on Margo."

Kit stormed out of his office. Malcolm Moore trailed hastily behind.

Goldie Morran's smile disintegrated the moment Kit slammed open her door.

"Why, Kit. Hello. What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me why the hell you sent my granddaughter into the high veldt after your goddamned diamonds!"

Goldie Morran actually lost color. "Kit, I don't know what you're-"

"Cut the crap!" Kit stalked over to the counter and slammed both fists down. "You're not talking to a goddamned tourist!"

Goldie adjusted the high-necked collar of her oldfashioned dress. "No, I'm aware of that, Kit. Calm down. I'm not really hiding anything."

"The hell you're not."

"Kit Carson, either control your temper or get out of my shop!"

Kit swallowed the retort on his tongue. Then forcibly relaxed his fists. "Okay, Goldie. I'll be a good boy and refrain from taking your shop apart. Start talking."

She drew over a high stool and settled on it as though taking a throne. "You're aware, then, of Phil Jones' gate?"

"Yes. And where and when it leads."

"Fortunately for me, Ripley Sneed is an idiot. He didn't even think about the diamonds just lying around the interior waiting for someone to pick them up. Phil and I knew exactly where the most accessible deposits were, but we couldn't get there ourselves. Neither of us is a scout."

"You mean neither of you is crazy enough to risk your own hide. So you conned Margo into doing it for you."

Goldie's eyes flashed angrily. "Margo is an adult, Kit Carson, perfectly capable of making her own decisions. And, I might add, you've treated her very shabbily. She was only too happy to accept my offer."

"Margo is a half-trained child-a seventeen-year-old child." Goldie lost a little more color. "She thinks she knows enough to succeed All she knows is enough to get herself killed. When's she due back?"

Goldie fidgeted and glanced away.

"Goldie.. ."

The severe-faced woman who always reminded Kit of a duchess he'd once known cleared her throat delicately. "Well, as to that, now.. ."

"She's overdue," Malcolm said quietly. "Isn't she?"

Goldie glanced up. "Well, yes. She is."

Kit tightened his hands on the edge of Goldie's shop counter. "How overdue?"

"A couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks?" Kit exploded. "My God! Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd blow up just like this!" Goldie snapped. "They took plenty of protective gear with them. They'll be fine! They're just a little overdue."

Kit studied her, controlling an ice-cold rage that demanded physical action. She wasn't telling them everything. For someone waiting on a shipment of first quality South African diamonds, Goldie was remarkably untroubled about Margo's fate.

"What's your scam, Goldie?"

She widened her eyes at him. "Scam? Why, Margo. was just going to dig out some of the Seta deposits and come back, that's all."

Kit leaned over the counter. "You are full of it, Goldie Morran. If Margo was supposed to bring back a shipment of diamonds, you'd have been crawling all over this station looking for someone to go after her when she was two weeks overdue. What kind of scam are you running?"

Goldie pursed her lips like someone who's tasted poison. "You are a royal pain, Kit Carson. She isn't bringing them back. Koot van Beek and I jointly invested in a little piece of property up north of Francistown, in Botswana. No one has ever found the motherlode source of the Seta alluvial deposits. So Margo's going to dig up a couple of potholes' worth of matrix and fly the ore up to our property on the Shashe River. I have a rube up time who's biting at the bait. All I have to do is confirm that Margo's seeded the land and Koot and I will `discover' samples that match the Seta deposits. This fool will buy the land at a huge profit and we'll make a fortune. We don't even have to smuggle the diamonds past ATF this way. It's all nice and legal."

It was a nice scam. A very nice one. Neat, slick, possibly even legal, leaving out the minor problem of minerals fraud. And given the current state of government in the southern African republics, any fool crazy enough to buy the land would probably end up eating his losses.

Kit said quietly, "You had better pray real hard that nothing has happened to my grandchild, Goldie. Show me this gate."

Kit and Malcolm both scanned the gate in Phil Jones' shop during its next scheduled opening. Malcolm double-checked his readings in rising dismay. His heart sprang straight into his throat. "Uh, Kit, are you getting the same readings I am?"

Kit nodded grimly. "It's disintegrating. Rapidly. How often does it open and how long has it existed?"

Phil Jones, a nervous little weasel of a man, cleared his throat. Totem poles loomed on every side, grotesque shapes beyond the shimmering edges of the gate. "Opens every five days, stays open about ten minutes. First saw it about ten weeks ago."

"Have you kept an exact log of its openings?"

Phil exchanged glances with Goldie. -Uh ... should I have done that?"

Malcolm was afraid Kit might strangle the shop keeper:

"Yes, you blithering idiot! You should have!"

The gate shrank, expanded briefly, then vanished

"Five days," Kit muttered, noting the exact times of its appearance and departure. "I have five days to get ready."

"You're not going through?" Phil gasped. "But I thought-wouldn't it be dangerous for you to-"

One look from Kit was all it took. He gulped and shut up.