Chapter Eight

THE BANQUET

The Lore Master stared, then spread his hands in acquiescence. "You've found us out."

"We used our newfound knowledge to open the Road of the Cargo, and in the year 1946, began to regain some of the power that had been stolen from us." Pigibidi spoke again, some sadness in his face. "For a time," Kasan said, "we had everything we hoped for. Do not look at our village now and think that you know the way it was then. White soldiers came to take away our Cargo, but the gods were with us once again, and we killed them all. We drove the Europeans from New Guinea, and lived in peace with our neighbors. We, the Daribi, were first to know the secret of the Cargo. We ruled the other peoples of the land, but we did not kill or enslave them. We even made them gifts to ease their hunger and want.

"At last, our sorcerers began to divert even the Cargo intended

for the Europeans, and still your people could not stop us. We had grown too strong. And we grew in power and in mana until the black day on which we grew too proud."

"What happened?"

"We stole your greatest and most powerful Cargo. The feat drained their strength from the tindalos, the ghosts and gods who serve us. A rival tribe had stolen a case of the precious Ko-Ka­Ko-La. At the last moment they used their own knowledge of the rot bilong kako, the Road of the Cargo, to divert this tremendous gift to themselves. Our loss cost us much honor and much mana. Today our enemies rule most of the tribes of this land. We and the Agaiambo are the only remaining free peoples. Soon, very soon, our enemies will be strong enough to destroy us for defying them. Afterward they will extend their rule to the other Ocean Peoples, and from there to the entire world, and when they rule the world they will crush all other religions. Your gods will die for lack of worshippers."

Chester shifted his posture and rubbed his bony knees to get some circulation back into them. "If the entire world is trying to stop them... how can they resist?"

Kasan spoke a few words to Gun-Person, who spoke in reply. The guide turned to Chester. "Your people do not know that our enemies have removed themselves from the physical plane of your world. They have turned the world, our world, inside-out, and nothing can come here unless a path is opened from within. My people opened the path for you."

Chester closed his eyes to think. Without opening them, he said, "That would explain the altered shape of Chambri Lake."

Oliver spoke. "It would explain why the water was salt instead of fresh."

"An hah."

"Yeah. I didn't think of it at the time, but the lake was salt. So it wasn't Chambri Lake. It's the Pacific Ocean... in fact, it's every ocean in the world."

"Good, Ollie. Very good. That means our directions are going to be screwed up. We can't trust our compasses. If it hadn't been for the mountains we used as a reference point, we would never have gotten here." His eyes opened slowly. "What was it your en­emies stole from you?"

Kasan spoke to Pigibidi, who seemed surprised and disturbed. "Surely you would know better than we? It was large, and we

sensed many of your greatest men gathering to see it used. Our sorcerers sensed it when it began to move, and we took hold of it and guided it toward us. But it never reached us. We do not know its size nor its weight nor its shape nor its color. But it would have brought us immense power, and now it is in evil hands."

Chester nibbled at his lower lip. "World War Two. Hmm. Could be... a prototype thermonuclear bomb? But the war was al­ready over. .

Maibang shrugged.

"... All right. What exactly do you hope we can do for you?" The chieftain conferred with his council, while Kasan listened. Presently Kasan said, "Tomorrow night is the full moon. There is to be a sacrifice of a woman plucked from the seas, in a place sa­cred to your God, an Anglican mission far to the west. If you can stop the ceremony, you will weaken our rivals and gain precious information from the woman, who has lived among them for a month. She can tell you how to reach their stronghold, there to steal back the mighty Cargo which they stole from us, which we in turn stole from you. You must do this thing, for the sake of all liv­ing souls. We will give you guides and other help, but the trip will be dangerous. Many of you will die. But there will be rich reward as well."

Chester looked at Maibang, a tiny smile playing over his lips. "Well, we're here, and I guess we're ready. One more thing. Who are we fighting?"

Maibang acted as if he had been struck with a live wire. Too rapidly to follow, he babbled out a string of words to Gun-Person, whose face grew ashy with fear. "No! No can say!" Pigibidi said, his first English words since his initial invitation to "come."

Chester frowned. "Why so coy? Why can't you tell us who we're fighting?"

Maibang shook his head. "Very bad, very very bad. This tribe is our enemy. To use their name would be theft. To use anything that belongs to another without his permission is very bad mana. You Europeans never understood that. Perhaps that is why you lost your power at last."

"Something like copyright violation? What about the Agaiambo? You used their name."

"They are allies. They will be helping you on your journey."

Chester nodded. "All right, we're in. We'll need some more in-

formation, and we'll need provisions, and a couple of guides. I as­sume you'll be staying with us, Kasan? Good. Is that it?"

"Only this, 0 Great Sorcerer. Tonight we will feast your people as a sign of our gratitude."

"How many people are you having for dinner?"

Kasan repeated the quip to the chieftain, who sat in stony si­lence. Kasan shrugged. "I guess it loses something in translation."

"Don't we all." Chester hauled himself to his feet. "Well, let's meet the ladies and swap data before dinner." He made a slight bowing motion to Gun-Person and left the hut, brushing the room-divider mat carelessly aside with one hand.

Gwen and Acacia stood somewhat apart from the other women, watching the Men's Council hut while preparations for the feast went on around them. The feast would be real. Rich mingling smells of roasted pig and yam were thick in the air.

A pit had been dug in the village square, and had been lined with coals. Alternating layers of leaves, pig meat and various veg­etables had then filled the pit. Men poked holes in the layers with long spears to provide heat flow.

"That smells just too good, Cas." The blonde's nose crinkled in delight. "I can't take any more. I'm going to go right over there and dive in."

"I'm afraid they might not pull you out. They'll just divvy you up with the other-I mean, with the pork. Ahem."

Gwen's fingers drummed on her hips. "Could you run that past me again, Ms. Spindleshanks?"

"Oh, no, I think that one is happy right where it is. Offle! Tony! Over here."

The men made their way to the waiting ladies. "Come on," Acacia said after a firm hug, "let's find a place to sit down."

Oliver asked, "Won't Chester want to debrief you?" Gwen stamped her foot. "Oh, forget Chester for a minute. Let's have our own debriefing."

He considered that. "Done. It's not cheating to compare notes privately."

They strolled past the thatch huts to a small stand of trees in view of the main square. They watched the preparations for the feast, and Tony laughed. Acacia pillowed her head against his shoulder as they sat, and nudged him with her small fist.