Making Sense of the Senseless

by rann

An attempt to understand why the explorers acted the way they did in Tourist Season.

Title: Making Sense of the Senseless

Author: rann

Description: A peek into the minds of the explorers to try and see what could they have been thinking of in Tourist Season.

Disclaimer: The characters from "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are owned by Telescene, NewLine Television, The Over the Hill Gang, Coote/Hayes, etc. No profit is being made from this story. No infringement upon copyrighted material is intended.

Setting: Scenes to wraparound the Tourist Season, starts after the explorers leave the Amazon village to make their way home, but nothing ever comes easily to the explorers.

Spoilers: Nectar, Salvation, Out of Time, Beast Within, Tribute, Camelot, Unnatural Selection, Birthright, Resurrection, Prophecy, The Chosen One, All or Nothing, Amazons, Tourist Season, Divine Right, London Calling, Survivors, Eye for an Eye, The Secret.

A/N: Tourist Season never made sense to me. Like many others I was surprised by Marguerite's behavior in Tourist Season. Challenger's behavior in being willing to consider leaving his wife to travel to the future seemed unlike him. I, also, thought that Ned needed some motivation for taking the drastic step of dream walking in London Calling. My interpretation of Gladys is based on Ned's image of her in London Calling and on Doyle's description of her in 'The Lost World'.

The first part of the Season Two seemed to leave us with all the relationships of Season One having taken a giant step back. After Tourist Season they were back to taking small steps in their relationships. I had this overwhelming need to connect the dots.

Additionally Challenger's wood and palm frond windmill in Tourist Season didn't seem adequate on its own for tearing the space-time continuum. A little intervention was called for in that department. I decided to resolve these issues for myself. I have tried to put my ramblings into somewhat of a story framework.

Thanks: Thank you to my beta readers, in particular Cal Gal. Any errors or faults are mine.

Making Sense of the Senseless

by rann

They'd been walking a couple of hours. Roxton had taken point and set a relatively fast pace, anxious to get back to the treehouse. When they started out, Challenger had stayed close behind him; Marguerite followed occasionally looking with some concern at Challenger's color. He had been on the mend but the exertion today hadn't helped, Ned was with Veronica acting as rearguard. There wasn't much in the way of conversation; everyone concentrated on putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the Amazon village and skirting as much of the cannibal territory as they could.

As the jungle raised beauty stayed alert for trouble, part of her mind strayed to what had happened at the Amazon village. She hated to admit it, but Marguerite seemed to be right about men. Given an opportunity to indulge themselves, they would.

***

(A day earlier)

They had been making their way to the Amazon village. Veronica had described the Amazons trading agreement with the cannibals and what to expect when they got there. After considering Veronica's words for a short time, Marguerite spoke again, somewhat reflectively.

"All those women …..and they want to use the men as mates? I don't know if I have enough ammunition."

"There's no way we could stand off a whole village, Marguerite."

"I was thinking of the men. We'll have to force them out at gunpoint."

"Surely, they won't want to stay. They'll know something's wrong."

"It's the nature of the beast, Veronica." Marguerite had said. "Think about Isadore. She batted her eyes, tossed in a little flattery and neither Roxton nor Ned could see anything suspicious about her. I understood Ned being susceptible, but at his age you'd expect Roxton would know better."

"Why?"

"He's encountered women like her before, and while I think he was more amused by her than anything else, she was still able to slip him a Mickey!"

"Well, we still have to go in after them."

"How are you proposing we do that?"

"We'll tell them we want to join the tribe."

Since this was a better plan of attack than Roxton's ideas of 'winging it' or Challenger's 'just a few details to sort out', Marguerite had made no objections at that point.

****

Roxton suddenly stopped in his tracks, abruptly bringing Veronica's attention back to the present. The trail they were following had widened slightly. The hunter held his arm out from his side to signal the others to stop. He slowly turned his head to be sure everyone was still and then deliberately looked to the left, with slight nod of his head. Following his eyes the others saw cannibals disappearing into the foliage. Painted half white and half black, they obviously were walking toward the Amazon village, apparently unaware of the potential food source nearby.

"How many?" Challenger breathed softly from his position next to Roxton.

"Maybe half a dozen." Roxton's voice was equally low. "They're probably meeting up with the rest of their tribe." He saw the almost imperceptible movements on the part of Challenger, Malone and Marguerite. The nervous swallowing, and the hands edging towards sidearms. 'Stay still, if we're lucky they'll never know we're here.'

An eyeroll from Marguerite indicated how likely she thought that was. A few more moments of tense stillness, however, and it looked like they might get away with it. As the bushes showed no sign of their painted foes returning, Marguerite's gaze wandered to the right. Her eyes widened and Roxton, who had glanced her way a moment before, turned to see what startled her.

Two cannibals were about to abandon their stealthy approach. Roxton grabbed one, covering his mouth to prevent him from making a sound. Veronica grabbed the second around the throat having caught the hunter's movement out of the corner of her eye. Marguerite and Malone dispatched the painted assailants held by their comrades with the butts of their pistols. All watched in silence a moment hoping that the first group of cannibals hadn't noticed anything. Looking around Roxton determined that they hadn't attracted any unwanted attention so far.

"I'll get some vine, we'll tie them up." Veronica kept her voice down, just in case any other undesirable visitors were in the vicinity. Ned turned to follow Veronica's lead, while the others stood over the unconscious natives.

Leaving the clearing, Veronica looked over the tangled jungle growth trying to spot some suitable vines. She noticed the remains of a campfire a short distance into the brush. She touched Ned's arm to draw his attention to it as she looked for signs that the owners of the campfire were still nearby.

"See anything?" Ned asked as he tried vainly to discern any clues from the ashes of the fire. "No bones and that's about all I can say for sure." he thought. "But lord, it's so frustrating to be with Veronica and Roxton, have them look at the ground and seemingly tell you everything but the color of the headdress of who was here night before."

"No, but this may be where our attackers spent the night. I can't think who else would be bold enough to light a fire in the middle of cannibal territory."

"Can you tell how many were there?"

"Not exactly, but I don't think it was more than we've seen between the two we have and that group that Roxton spotted earlier."

"If they're all accounted for, let's get the vine and get back to the others."

***

As Veronica and Ned were lost to sight among the leaves, Marguerite looked at her companions still in the clearing.

"Why don't you sit for a few minutes, Challenger" She didn't like his pallor. Obviously he hadn't fully recovered from the encounter with the raptor the other day. She helped him lower himself onto a log and then moved away a few feet looking into the jungle trying to see where Veronica & Ned were.

The linguist felt a bit of concern as she stood watching the undergrowth for signs of the newsman and their jungle raised companion. Not so much because of any danger that might lurk in the jungle, she knew Veronica could handle just about anything and everything the jungle might throw at them. No, her concern was for how Veronica was handling her relationship with the reporter.

She had watched for the past year her two naïve companions struggle through all the stages of puppy love with some inward amusement. She had been completely taken aback when a few months ago, Ned had let them attempt to leave the plateau without him.

Roxton, damn him, had hit the nail on the head when he asked if no man ever gave up his world for her. She had once given up everything for a man, but no man had ever come close to doing the same for her. "Perhaps that's not quite true," she thought to herself. With a slight shiver she remembered a mountaintop, patches of snow, an evil child and a crystal sword. "If not everything, certainly one man risked a great deal for me." Apparently, however, he had wisely reconsidered always being there. "A smart move on his part."

Forcing her thoughts away from the hunter, she again considered the blonde woman. The practical part of her knew that Veronica was better off leaving her storybook idea of love behind. "There are NO knights in shining armour," she admonished herself sternly. Amazingly though one part of her was sad to see the young woman disillusioned. "Still, she needs to know what men are like, otherwise they'll take advantage of her and she never realize it. She didn't believe me yesterday when I pointed out her folly in taking up Ned's share of the maintenance. Maybe she's learned the nature of the beast. Sadder but wiser. At least if she does fall in love, she'll do it with her eyes open."

Challenger had watched the linguist walk away, wishing she had stayed. Of all of his companions, the one he found easiest to talk to was Marguerite. That was odd, since she rarely confided anything to him about herself. "Perhaps, because she always seems so aware of what everyone else deems as her flaws, she tends not to be as judgmental as the rest of us. She doesn't expect perfection from people, and she knows how to keep confidences. She has never said a word about what Summerlee told her when he was so ill from the bee sting."

Since the episode with the Atlantean village he had a pretty good idea of what Summerlee must have confided to her. But Marguerite never condemned the botanist by so much as word or look. As a matter of fact she had gone out of her way to comfort him. "Ah, Summerlee, you did bring out the best in people." But as much as Challenger missed and respected Summerlee, what was on his mind was a subject that he never could have broached with him anyway.

With an inward sigh he looked at Roxton who was keeping an eye on the unconscious natives. Perhaps Roxton's opinion might help. He certainly had a reputation for being a ladies' man. He ought to have some insight into how women think. Challenger never deluded himself about his ability with people. His focus was science, abstract concepts and concrete results, not soothing egos and worrying about sensibilities.

"John, I'm in a bit of a quandary right now."

Roxton looked over at him but kept most of his attention on his charges.

"It's about last night when the four of you came into Selena's chambers. I'm concerned as to how the women took it." Challenger kept his voice low enough so Marguerite would not overhear.

"I'm sure Marguerite wasn't shocked."

"Probably not, Marguerite understands how it is for men, I know that." Challenger missed Roxton's wince at his words. "And, I've never claimed to be the most uxorious of men," he admitted somewhat abashedly. "She started on the expedition, so cynical, thinking the worst of everyone. Well, except perhaps Summerlee. In the past few months she's seemed less distant."

"I don't think she was ever as hard as everyone thought. She just covered any concern she was showing with some wisecrack." Roxton's eyes drifted briefly from his prisoners to the woman who was carefully watching the path the two younger members of the treehouse had taken. What was it she had said to him months ago? 'What's today, Tuesday? I never kill anybody on Tuesdays.' Someone else would have made a grand speech espousing their noble ideals. Marguerite downplayed her courage and her refusal to accept his intended sacrifice with an attempt at gallows humor.

"It's not Marguerite that I'm concerned with primarily, it's Veronica. She looked so disappointed in me."

"Well, George, let's face it. Veronica has an extremely innocent view of married life." Roxton's jaundiced view on wedding vows had been influenced by his contemporaries' marriages. "You and I both know that's not how the world works."

"In her mind married couples are faithful to each other under any and all circumstances. She has such a practical attitude towards life in the jungle. It's hard to reconcile that realistic approach to life to her idealistic sense of how people should behave." The visionary sighed, "I don't like being the one who's tarnishing her ideals"

"Everyone makes a slip now and then. Nobody's perfect," Roxton comforted the scientist, who still looked troubled. "Anything else on your mind?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, it's about Selena."

Roxton eyes stayed on his charges. "What about her?"

"She suspected something was wrong when Marguerite and Veronica entered the arena."

"How the hell did she know that."

"Apparently you and Malone were not as circumspect as you might have been in your reactions to Veronica and Marguerite when they entered the arena. She decided to see what was going on, but she didn't want to tip her hand. That's why she didn't let Veronica take Malone after she won and why so many guards surrounded her quarters."

"Women with hidden agendas can be real problems." Roxton's eyes strayed yet again to the edge of the jungle where Marguerite stood.

Challenger was about to continue, but realized Roxton's attention was no longer on him.

"What the hell had gotten into her this morning?" After he freed them from the burning platform, she was in a panic, ready to run in any direction. The others had put it down to Marguerite's frequently touted instinct for self-preservation. The hunter didn't buy it. They had been in too many battles together. She may not have wanted those battles, but he had never seen her lose her head in any of them.

When he had pulled them into the fight with the Goths on Gideon's behalf, she had given him grief over the decision. But then while he investigated an escape route, the expedition's financier held off the Goths in a cave filling up with smoke and guarded the retreat of the boy warrior whose recklessness had nearly gotten her killed by apemen. Later on Roxton himself was the beneficiary of her protection as she stood over him fending off their attackers while he recovered from a blow. Then she held off at least four or five of the Goths warriors while he fought with Cyan. She may not have wanted the fight, but she never faltered.

The elegant linguist turned, and catching him looking at her, raised her eyebrows. Anything that might have been said was forestalled by Ned and Veronica's appearance.

Ned and Roxton tied up the cannibals with the thick, tough vines the younger couple had found, gagging them as well. As they worked the jungle beauty kept her eyes out for any other interlopers, her keen eyes scanning the area all around them to make sure no one caught them off guard. Marguerite took the time to look at Challenger's bandage to make sure his wound was still clean.

As the jungle girl's eyes passed over him, Challenger winced slightly as he noted again how Veronica didn't look directly at him.

Marguerite murmured "I'm sorry," thinking she'd hurt him with her probing.

"You know this doesn't make sense," remarked Veronica as she continued scanning the jungle for signs of more cannibals. "Why were these two out on their own?"

Roxton & Malone stood up from their tasks. The two painted warriors were securely bound and gagged.

"Maybe they were supposed to meet up with that other band we saw?" Roxton speculated.

"That was my thought." Veronica responded.

"So?" asked Ned as Challenger and Marguerite turned to listen.

"So, what happens when these two don't show?" It was more a statement than a question from Roxton.

Malone, seeing the conclusion the two hunters were leading them to, said, "They'll come back."

"Well, then, that sounds like our cue to leave." Marguerite pointed out with false brightness in her voice. The brunette slipped a hand under the scientist's elbow assisting him to rise.

"It's not that easy, Marguerite." Veronica said. "When they see what we've done, they'll come after us."

"And then they'll be picking the grounds for the fight." Roxton stated. "If we set up an ambush, we can choose where we confront them. Elementary tactics."

"So where do we plan to take them?" Challenger asked.

Roxton and Veronica looked at each other for confirmation. "Here." Veronica said.

"We'll use our friends here as bait." Roxton gestured at the bound savages who were starting stir.

"When the rest of their band returns, they'll stop to look …" Challenger began.

"…and we get the drop on them." Malone finished.

Marguerite pulled her gun from her holster and before anyone realized what she was doing, she used the butt end to knock the captives out again. The others grimaced at the sound of the impact. She shrugged as her companions stared at her. "They're less trouble this way."

"All right, Veronica take Challenger and Malone to that side of the clearing. Marguerite and I will cover this side."

"Shouldn't we stick together?" asked Malone.

"Too easy to be surrounded. Veronica, you, Malone and I will move in on them. Challenger, you and Marguerite will stay back on the edge of the clearing to pick off anyone who tries to circle around us. Everyone, wait for a signal before moving in or firing."

"I'm quite capable of holding my own in any sort of altercation, Roxton." Challenger protested.

"You don't want to take a chance reopening those wounds, Professor. The smell of blood will just draw in predators. We have enough to deal with as it is." Veronica told him, focusing her attention on checking her knives. Challenger nodded accepting the wisdom of the arrangement.

Marguerite's lips had tightened during Roxton's outline of his battle plan. She wasn't surprised at being given the role of spectator. "After my performance this morning at the Amazon village, he'll be surprised if I even stay for the fight." Out loud she said, "I'm impressed, Roxton, an actual plan, so different from your usual 'charge in, guns blazing'."

"Be impressed later…. if it works."

Time stood still, or so it seemed, as they waited in silence. Minutes dragged by. Malone caught himself checking his watch every few minutes unable to believe that they hadn't been waiting longer.

Encouraged by their stillness the smaller fauna resumed their routines of life once more. In the trees, the birds could be heard, the macaws and the parrots of the jungle making a surprisingly cheerful cacophony.

With an inaudible catch of her breath Marguerite identified a scarlet king making it's way in the tall grasses a few yards away, relieved that it was not its more deadly cousin, a coral snake. It seemed so long ago that Veronica gave her such a pointed lesson in distinguishing between the two. A flicker of her eyes assured her that the British lord at his accustomed place by her side hadn't noticed her quickly controlled start of surprise.

On the other side of the clearing, a spider began its climb attracting Challenger's attention. "A Nephila antpodiana." As always his instinct was to study it closer. He began to crouch down and was stopped by Veronica's hand on his sleeve. After the second such incident, this time a beetle was the lure; he tried to stay more alert to the business at hand. "Although it is remarkable to see an Apriona Elsa here on the plateau."

Malone copied Veronica's stillness. He was determined to improve his wilderness skills. That was one of his reasons for being on the expedition. Thinking of why he came to South America brought Gladys to mind. "Thank goodness, she knows nothing of what went on in that village." This was something Gladys would never understand. "And she shouldn't have to understand," Ned thought defensively, "she's a well brought-up young lady. Not like some women." Ned cast a disparaging look across the clearing to where Marguerite and Roxton where concealed.

The startled flight of a flock of birds heralded the return of the band of cannibals. The feathered sentinels sharpened the attention of hunter and huntress as their eyes strained to detect precisely where in the brush the enemy was.

A moment later their painted bodies were easily picked out as they brushed through the jungle's undergrowth; no apparent need for stealth governed their movements, but spears were held ready to be used.

"Can you understand what they're saying?" Lord Roxton's voice was a breath in her ear.

Even with the prior encounter she and Veronica had with the cannibals Marguerite still only had a couple of phrases. Now she listened carefully, the distance and tones of the voices masking the clarity of the words. "From what I can make out, the worst they expect to find is a raptor dining on their friends."

"When they get to the clearing, wait until their attention is caught by our guests. Then tell them to surrender. Fire a shot over their heads. Let's see if we can keep the bloodshed to a minimum."

"What are you going to do?" she hissed.

"Hopefully, Malone, Veronica and I can convince them to listen to you."

Moments later, two of the cannibal party entered the clearing, the sight of their trussed-up fellow tribesmen stopped them from moving ahead. As Marguerite heard them warning the others following them, she called out in their language what she hoped was: "Give up, you won't be hurt."

As Marguerite's shot into the air punctuated her demand, Roxton moved in the clearing. Veronica and Ned followed the hunter's lead. Seeing only the three, the cannibals came at them.

Grabbing the haft of the spear thrust at him, Roxton swung his assailant into the cannibal who had just broken through the bushes.

Veronica grappled with another who brought a knife to bear, grabbing his arm to use his own momentum to flip him over. A distinct thud and an "Oofh" sounded as he hit the ground with the wind knocked out of him.

Malone ducked under the thrusting spear of a fourth and brought up his fist. As he followed up with the other fist, he saw the flash of gold hair as Veronica went after another. His movements brought him around his opponent in time to see the cannibal Veronica had taken down in her first assault getting back up and ready to attack her from behind. Before he could step in, a shot rang out across the clearing. Ned nodded to the scientist; Challenger saluted him with two fingers to the brim of his hat.

As Challenger watched Veronica's back, the remaining cannibal had circled around the two keeping Roxton busy, a knife in his hand. As the knife was raised, the scientist realized the hunter's danger and shouted a warning; the tangle of bodies preventing him from getting off a clear shot. Veronica heard Challenger, but was unable to free herself from her own fight. Malone and his opponent stumbled over one of the bound cannibals, who starting to come around, was moving to interfere with the battle.

Challenger began to move forward knowing he'd never be in time. Roxton's third assailant suddenly dropped to the ground. In his stead was Marguerite, a knife in her hand.

Roxton, catching a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, quickly dispatched one of his opponents. Malone came over to give him a hand with the other. Rounding on his slender ally he demanded "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Haven't you heard 'No plan survives contact with the enemy'." Marguerite tried to quip her way past Roxton's anger

I told you to stay on the edge of the clearing." He moved in towards her, looming over her.

"Next time I'll let him put a knife in your back!" Marguerite furiously retorted, chin lifted, not intimidated in the least by his greater bulk.

"I told you I wanted to keep the bloodshed to a minimum." The thought of the risk she took going after the larger man with a knife, kept his anger hot.

"There was going to be blood, I thought you'd prefer it to be his." His unreasonable anger fanned the flames of her own fury.

Anxious to prevent the two dark-haired explorers from continuing their row right then and there, "Which," Veronica thought, "they're quite capable of doing." Out loud she said, "Let's get the rest of this party settled, before you two start the next battle. Come on, Ned, let's get some more vine."

Marguerite and Roxton, brought to the realization that their faces were just inches apart, each took a step back. Roxton turned his attention to keeping their captives huddled before him. Marguerite's eye was caught by a necklace on the warrior she had taken down.

As the young couple went back to get more vines, the three older explorers guarded their latest captives.

Veronica's thoughts were occupied with the journalist, as Ned helped her collect more of the needed vine. She was glad he was better able to take care of himself, but sometimes she felt he was competing with her now. She didn't care if he couldn't take down a raptor faster than she could. "What did it matter who saves who as long as neither of us gets hurt."

The jungle-raised blonde had liked the fact as they grew to know each other that he seemed as unsure as she did about how to proceed. "I didn't feel overwhelmed by him pushing me into something I wasn't ready for." One of the things she had really hated about Niko, was the fact he thought he should decide what she was supposed to do. "Ned always made me feel comfortable in his company. I could be myself and he didn't expect anything differently."

The thought of Niko brought to mind her evening rendezvous with Ned before Niko showed up. She blushed slightly as she thought of how bold it must have seemed to go swimming au naturel and how taken aback Ned was at first. But then he had been willing to join her, to swim, indulge in a little romance and not push her further.

"Before with Ned, I could take chances in dealing with him, but now it seems more like a contest. Doesn't he know it's not hunting skills I admire? So many men I know can do that; but how many men can write a story? My father and mother kept journals, but they didn't write stories like Ned does."

"Think this is enough?"

Chagrined at letting her thoughts wander, Veronica looked over what they had collected. "It looks like it."

"Then we better get back before Roxton and Marguerite begin round two."

Veronica grinned as the blonde couple headed back to their comrades.

With growing disgust, Roxton was watching Marguerite assess the necklace that adorned the dead cannibal. "Really, Marguerite, this is not the time to be collecting bloody souvenirs!"

"Robbing the dead, Marguerite? Don't you have any dignity?" Ned jabbed as the younger couple entered the clearing in time to hear Roxton's comment.

"Dignity, Malone? Did you really say dignity? Given the circumstances you were most recently found in I'm not sure you have a lot of room to talk." Marguerite shot back, letting the necklace fall back around the dead native's neck.

Ned reddened as Roxton suppressed a smile and Veronica looked away to hide her amusement. Challenger simply looked uncomfortable.

Looking at the others she motioned to the object of her assessment, "Did it occur to anyone to wonder why he's the only one we've seen with a necklace?"

"Rank or position, most likely. In primitive cultures a simple designation such as this would suffice.' Challenger said thoughtfully. "With only a few levels of rank, the need for fine distinction…."

"Challenger." Marguerite's voice disrupted the lecture he was beginning.

"That's very interesting, Professor, but I think we need to find out what his rank was." Roxton brought them back to the heart of the manner.

"Can you find out what his obituary might read?" Malone asked of the linguist.

"Not if you gag them." Marguerite pointed out as Malone and Veronica were in the process of tying up the most able-bodied of their captives.

She began trying a few words, motioning towards the dead cannibal. One of the captives responded, his tone angry, not at all pleading. Marguerite replied. As the others watched the prisoner's tone became more belligerent. Roxton took a step forward, lifting the rifle butt in a menacing motion. The cannibal's tone quieted, cowed by the threat posed by the tall man, but the look he gave Marguerite was vicious.

Taking a step between Marguerite and the prisoners, Roxton turned, as the blonde pair started to tie the last of the captives. "What did he say."

"It was their chief that was killed."

"And…" Roxton prodded.

"And they're vowing vengeance."

"Oh, good going, Marguerite. As if cannibals aren't bad enough when they happen across us, now you've got them planning to look us up."

"Would you be happier about being dead as long as it was their chief who killed you?" Marguerite retorted.

"What can we do?" Malone asked jumping in to forestall another go-round between the couple.

"Well, we can't lead them back to the treehouse, that's for sure." Veronica said firmly.

"The question then becomes, where can we lead them where they don't want to follow?" Challenger stated.

Veronica looked around, assessing their location.

"Let's take this trail a little farther. When we're further away from them," she nodded toward the bound captives; "I'll point out the route."

"Why do I know I'm not going to like this?" Marguerite asked of no one in particular.

A slight smile tugged at the corners of Roxton's lips. "Let's see if we can get out of here without inviting more company," Roxton instructed, keeping his voice low.

Veronica moved out with Malone staying close to her, Roxton nodded to Challenger to follow Malone, then his look at Marguerite had her falling in behind the scientist, Until he was sure the cannibals were neutralized he was keeping her under his watchful eye as he took rearguard. Everyone was uneasy enough to stay silent, as they traveled these last miles in cannibal territory.

Walking through jungle, senses alert, expecting trouble at any moment, had become second nature for the experienced hunter, especially here on the plateau. It contrasted sharply with the relaxation he had expected of last evening. It should have been a pleasant interlude. An attractive warrior, who had apparently wanted a no strings attached evening of pleasure. She was exotic enough to be appealing, willing and able to take care of herself, independent, not like the run of the mill society women to whom he was accustomed on the continent.

He had no reason to feel guilty. After all, the beautiful brunette in front of him had told him that anything between them was 'a disaster waiting to happen'. That freed him to go his own way. "NOT that I wasn't free already! Certainly I was and I am still!" Mentally he shook himself.

Many times in the past he pursued several women at the same time or was pursued and willingly caught by them. He believed in safety in numbers. Involvement with just one woman might be misconstrued. He was not going to raise expectations he had no plans in fulfilling. "Besides, I'm not the monogamous sort." And he knew better than to get too involved with a woman, it always led to him feeling some sort of obligation if there was trouble.

Just on the plateau, he felt obligated to try and save Calista. Today he took it upon himself to bandage Hippolyta. And even if there wasn't a romantic involvement he had a weakness towards women in trouble. He didn't stop to think twice about helping Tarya when the Hikari were after her. With Katherine he did feel guilty over her accidental shooting, but beyond that when he found out she lied, he still couldn't leave her for the raptors. With Reneta, he wanted to make sure that she didn't suffer from Hargrove's misdeeds.

And when he and Marguerite were shivering high on a mountain, the emotions rushing through him made him so overprotective that he tried to stop her from backing him up in a fight. The catastrophe that nearly perpetrated still had the power to chill his soul.

"No," he thought, "she was right about us being a disaster waiting to happen. We'll keep our distance."

It was curious though, how his admiration of Hippolyta had changed as Marguerite stepped out into the circle of Amazon warriors. His fear for her had felt like a lead weight in his stomach. She looked impossibly slender compared to the trained warriors surrounding her. When he realized she was to face Hippolyta any number of scenarios leading to disaster played out in his mind.

All he could see in his mind's eye was the sharpening of the swords that had taken place earlier that day. At the time he was impressed by the bravery of the warriors who would fight. No blunted practice weapons for them. They would fight depending on their own skill and the skill of their opponents to prevent serious injury. It hadn't bothered him the slightest to use those deadly weapons in a warm-up bout with Hippolyta. The possibility of injury was not a major concern. Now the thought of Marguerite defending herself against the onslaught of one of those weapons was chilling.

Having fought Hippolyta, he knew just how skilled and strong she was. He also knew that hand-to-hand combat was not Marguerite's forte. Her success in most of their battles depended on her opponents underestimating her, a few dirty tricks and a quick end to the conflict. Hippolyta would not underestimate her.

He was puzzled at first as to why Hippolyta would choose to face Marguerite. He knew she led the Amazons in battle and her influence was second only to Selena's. She had her choice of opponents. As he realized she chose the weaker one rather than risk defeat at Veronica's hands and loss of prestige among her fellow warriors, his respect for her dropped dramatically at that point. Dalliance with her did not seem quite as desirable as it had before Marguerite had entered the arena.

His respect for Marguerite's courage went up another couple of notches as she walked into a situation where she knew she was overmatched without flinching. He watched with dread as she fought, holding her own for at least a few passes and disguising her unease with a few quips. His spirits rose as she slugged Hippolyta after losing her sword, but his heart was in his throat when the Amazon tripped the dark haired beauty. He was nearly off the dais, ready to protect her when he realized by the slowness and steadiness of Hippolyta's movements that the fight was ending. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until Marguerite stood up unaided and uninjured; then finally he leaned back and let his lungs fill.

It was this courage that made Marguerite's actions this morning so incomprehensible.

"So what happened today? What was it about that situation that panicked her?"

She was a puzzle in so many ways. She gave the impression time and time again of being governed by purely mercenary motives, but it never added up to him. "If she's so damned interested in the gaining of wealth at any cost, why the hell doesn't she make a play for me?" He didn't think she found him distasteful, quite the contrary. Their mutual awareness of each other all these months on the plateau kept them both balanced on a knife's edge. It wouldn't be such a chore for her to take him along with his money.

He'd been the target of fortune hunters before, cynically amused at their antics, taking a perverse pleasure in foiling their schemes. The situations that he had found himself in with Marguerite would have had any of them exploiting his sense of honor.

Only once on the plateau had Marguerite actively tried to seduce him and she'd been under the influence of the paradise fruit. It was embarrassing how willing he had been to be seduced. And it was disheartening how quickly she had drawn back to maintain her distance from him. "Why did she draw back, she could have had me and my money?"

Perhaps it was her unwillingness to seduce or be seduced by him that made him feel so smug when Hippolyta chose him in front of Marguerite. He smirked at the time, taking pleasure in Marguerite seeing someone else wanting him. However, he knew something was wrong since Marguerite and Veronica had shown up. He delayed Hippolyta as long as he could, expecting Marguerite at any minute. And of course, being Marguerite, when she did show up, she was not at all disconcerted by the situation he found himself in. She acted with aplomb, a woman of the world, making her usual quips and leaving him feeling awkward and embarrassed as he hadn't felt since he'd been a callow lad, younger than Malone.

His thoughts of her led him to glance at her and looking at her expression ask in a low voice, "What else did our friend back there have to say?"

"Nothing of any importance." His look was more eloquent than words. He didn't believe her and he would pester her until she told him. "All right," exasperation colored her voice, "he just was descriptive about the fate of someone who kills their chief. You needn't worry, they're just planning to eat you."

"You relieve my mind immeasurably." A grin accompanied those words. "Now what did he say about you." He was determined to reassure her.

"They're not going to bother with eating me once they're done, not enough meat on my bones to make it worth the bother."

"We'll keep the meat on your bones right where it is. It looked perfectly fine to me in those battle leathers you were wearing." The knowing look in his eyes that accompanied his grin drew a perfunctory frown from Marguerite.

She knew he was reassuring her that she would be protected. She also knew he'd do whatever it takes to protect any of them, not just her. "It's the nature of the man, Marguerite," she told herself, "it doesn't mean anything more than that."

"Roxton" the quiet call came from the blonde huntress as she brought their column to a halt.

As the explorers grouped together, Veronica mapped out her strategy. "If we continue on in this direction we're more or less headed straight to the treehouse, no major problems or delays."

"Ordinarily, I'd say that would be a good thing." Malone said.

"This isn't ordinarily." Roxton commented. "What obstacles did you have in mind?"

"If we angle a little to the south we'll come across a breeding area."

"A breeding area for what?" Marguerite looked for clarification; already feeling dismayed by the prospect.

Veronica paused. "Raptors."

Roxton, Malone and Marguerite looked at each other with some trepidation.

"Yes, from what I remember of the area that would make an ideal breeding ground. The temperature and humidity would be quite suitable. The lower elevation would trap additional moisture in the air." Challenger was lost in considering the environmental aspects of the situation. "One needs to consider – "

"You know, Veronica, we were at the end of our trip, our supplies of ammunition are low." Roxton felt obliged to point out, cutting off one of Challenger's meteorological explanations.

"There's no way we can shoot our way through."

"Well I don't think we can sneak by them." Malone put in.

"What if we don't go in but make it look like we did?"

Veronica considered Marguerite's suggestion. "That might work, but we need to make sure that whoever is following us runs across the raptors before realizing we didn't go that way."

"There might be a way." The hunter paused, weighing the possibilities. His companions waited in silence.

"We're waiting, Roxton, what's the plan." Marguerite regarded him with impatient inquiry after the brief moment of silence.

"We'll have to see when we get there."

"Oh good, you're back to normal. I'm glad to see planning a little strategy earlier didn't go to your head."

Veronica began leading her friends through the bushes towards the maternally inclined raptors. As they were moving out of cannibal territory, Ned took the opportunity to talk to Veronica. From what Roxton could glean from the snatches of overheard conversation, Ned was once again attempting to assure Veronica that he was blameless in the interlude with the two sprightly and enthusiastic warriors with whom he had cavorted. And only concern for Challenger's well being had kept him in the village.

Judging by the occasional giggle that escaped from Veronica and a disbelieving snort from Marguerite, he wasn't having much success.

"Really, Veronica, what was I supposed to do to discourage them without hurting their feelings?"

"You should have Roxton show you the ropes." Marguerite jibed, pitching her voice so it easily carried to his ears.

Roxton winced as he heard Veronica's snicker. Obviously, Marguerite had abandoned her normal reticence to share the story of that encounter with the other distaff member of the treehouse.

"They just didn't give me an opportunity to explain." Malone's voice was plaintive.

"A regular Gordian knot, wouldn't you say, Roxton?" Marguerite was in fine form.

"I knew we shouldn't have stayed."

"Tied you to their apron strings, did they?" Veronica was now getting into the act, much to Roxton's dismay.

"You should have asked Roxton's help with them. I believe he thinks if you give them enough rope……" her voice trailed off on the platitude with deceptive mildness. "Figuratively speaking of course."

"Well, I don't know what he could have done, They practically hog-tied me." Malone's comment was greeted with muffled laughter.

Malone looked from the blonde to the brunette, perplexed by whatever the two of them were finding amusing. He didn't seem to be making much headway in his own defense and now Roxton was becoming a target, judging by the way his shoulders had stiffened.

As Malone fell silent, Veronica smiled at his attempts to win back into her good graces and admiring how Marguerite got her digs in and watched the hunter squirm. A movement in the brush caught her attention. Ned, who had been watching her, started to look around. "Roxton" she hissed softly.

The hunter stilled and listened, then looked to the bushes from where the sound originated. "Doesn't sound like raptors. Boar perhaps?" He was unshouldering his rifle as he spoke.

Veronica nodded. His opinion concurred with hers.

"Time to restock the larder?" asked Ned, bringing his rifle up as well.

"If he's just going to walk into our hands, we might as well bring home the bacon." Roxton smiled at his own joke.

"Well anytime now, Roxton," Marguerite urged, wanting it over.

"Patience, Marguerite, we want a clean shot."

The five stood still, slightly tense since a wild boar is not the most predictable of creatures. The rustling in the bushes grew louder and then the boar broke through. Roxton and Malone fired at almost the same instant. The combined firepower brought the swine down quickly.

Marguerite looked away as Roxton and Malone began preparing the animal to be taken through the jungle. She never liked hunting, "Too much empathy for the hunted," she supposed in her mind. "Let them think I'm just too lazy to help. It can't be any worse than what they already think about me, not after this morning in the village."

Veronica joined Marguerite as she stood looking ahead down the trail. Since she didn't eat meat if she could help it, watching an animal being taken for food wasn't an activity she took pleasure in. The older woman's face was a mask as she spoke.

"Was it very hard to take sides against the women of the village?"

Veronica was about to give a snide answer about loyalty to friends, when she remembered Marguerite backing her up yesterday. She stopped for a second and said quietly, "In some ways, yes. They had been good to me over the years and let me know that I'd still be welcome if I ever changed my mind after I refused to join them." Veronica waited for Marguerite's sarcastic rejoinder.

"I thought it would be," was the soft reply.

Veronica looked at her dark haired companion and thought, "How odd, years ago I didn't want to be a part of a group, but yesterday the thought of setting out after the men on my own was unsettling." Even more surprising to the jungle girl was the fact that she wanted Marguerite to be with her.

It wasn't that Marguerite was adept at following a trail and in reality she knew taking Marguerite with her was going to slow her progress; she simply didn't have Veronica's stamina. True, though, she was very good with a rifle and a pistol. She remembered Roxton's surprise when they were exchanging stories about their narrow escapes from Drakul's raiders. When Roxton heard about Marguerite shooting the pterodactyl that was hanging on to Ned, he looked about and asked what had happened to the rifle. The look on his face when he learned Marguerite had made that shot with a pistol was a cross between surprise and respect.

Yes, Marguerite was good with a pistol, but the real reason Veronica coerced the dark haired heiress in to accompanying her was, after a year in the company of the explorers, Veronica no longer wanted to be alone. She wanted someone to back her up and to share the burden of looking for their comrades. How ironic was that!

She knew Marguerite well enough to use her fear of being left alone to manipulate her into taking part in the search for the men. Veronica just hadn't realized until then that she had the same fear herself. Maybe, despite the differences between them, they had more in common than either of them would ever admit. At this uncomfortable thought she looked around for a distraction.

She glanced over at Ned as he moved away from the boar, finding some leaves to wipe the blood from his hands. He'd changed drastically from the man who blundered into mimic plants and had been unable to shoot a raptor, overwhelmed by the fauna and the flora of the plateau. He had just been there to prove himself to a girl back home.

She still wasn't sure if he knew a rose from an orchid, but he didn't stumble into the unknown without keeping his eyes open any more. He was more confident about his abilities to deal with the local wildlife. He had even learned enough about women to have had suspicions about the Amazons, though that didn't stop him from enjoying Phoebe and Thea's attentions.

Apparently thoughts of Gladys weren't enough to dissuade him either. Thoughts of Gladys however were enough to give the jungle beauty pause. She had no claim on Ned. To be fair, he had not made a secret of his commitment to a girl back home. It almost seemed like day to day Ned wavered between admiration of herself and devotion to girl thousands of miles away.

Roxton had once told her that Gladys was Ned's problem and not hers. That had comforted her for while. She had even tried to act on that but she couldn't help but feel uncertain as to her place in Ned's affections. Just when he acted like she was the person he wanted, either Ned or one of the other explorers would bring up Gladys. Ned would then be jarred out of his mood and back to talking about the publisher's daughter. He never said that he definitely intended to end his relationship with Gladys and her pride wouldn't permit her to confront him about his sentiments.

Marguerite had maintained that men were willing to take advantage when opportunity presented itself. The overheard conversation of the Amazons had done little to dispel that notion. It had revealed a quite a bit about how the men had reacted.

***

(The day before.)

After Selena had so happily embraced Veronica, she had summoned one of the villagers to conduct her new recruits to the armorer's to prepare for the games.

"Games?" Marguerite inquired, shooting a look that promised retribution to Veronica.

"As part of your initiation you must prove your prowess in battle." The guide was pleased to inform them.

"Is that all?" Marguerite's irony was lost on their escort but not on her jungle-bred companion.

At the armory several other women were gathered inspecting weapons and repairs to their armor.

A quick look at the newcomers had an older woman dressed in a white toga pulling out battle leathers for the would-be Amazons.

"Veronica, I'm so happy to see you." The woman handed the blonde a set of brown leathers. "You've finally come to your senses."

"Or lost them." Marguerite's jibe was only heard by her comrade.

"Niobe, you're looking well. This is my friend Marguerite."

The grey haired woman's assessment of the dark-haired explorer was brief but through. "Are you sure you're ready to go into battle?" she asked somewhat doubtfully.

"If there's one thing I ready for, it's a fight." Marguerite's forced cheerfulness caused Veronica to suppress a smile.

"Isn't that the truth," the jungle warrior commented in an undertone.

"Well that's a fine attitude for a warrior." Niobe gave her an approving look. "Let me go to the storeroom, I think I can find something that will fit you."

Conversation amongst the warriors inspecting the weapons resumed as Veronica started to change. Marguerite began idly inspecting some shields.

"Looks like Hippolyta picked out a fine specimen."

"He seems much more ….enthusiastic than most of the men we've seen."

"We'll see how much enthusiasm has been drained from him by morning."

"I wouldn't mind trying him out."

"Enough to risk Hippolyta's anger?"

"He might just be worth it." A sly grin accompanied this comment.

"It was a surprise to see a man in a practice match."

"And to do so well."

"He certainly could handle a sword." Marguerite and Veronica exchanged glances. This must be Roxton. Malone and Challenger's skill with sword would not have excited this much comment.

With a knowing smile one of warriors said, "For his sake, tonight he'd best be as good with - " A clatter of shields hitting the floor interrupted the warrior.

"Sorry," Marguerite gave a tight smile.

The warriors exchanged a look for the newcomer's clumsiness.

"How is the older one doing?" One of the warriors asked the others.

"Selena seems determined that he should be healed and well-rested for this evening."

"She plans to take payment for her skills as a healer." The chuckles of the warriors left no doubt of the payment to be remanded.

"Phoebe and Thea had better watch out with the young one."

"They're more likely to wear him out before they get to claim him the way they've been chasing him."

"He's good looking enough, but I bet I could teach him a couple of things."

"I think teaching him a couple of things is precisely what Phoebe and Thea have in mind."

"They'll have to find a way to slow him down. The way I saw him moving through the village he could give a rabbit lessons."

A sudden choking cough caught their attention again. Marguerite quickly looked around and took a cup filled with water as if to cure her sudden coughing fit. At her side Veronica slashed the air with several vigorous passes. Veronica noticing the interest of the other warriors, looked closely at the sword in her hand and said, "Good balance."

"It sounds like you have some unusual guests." Marguerite commented idly.

"We don't get very many men as willing as these, I have to say that."

Niobe returned with some black battle leathers for Marguerite. "Warriors, she said addressing the Amazons gathered, "you're looked for at the arena."

The linguist looked askance at the abbreviated leathers she'd been handed. "I don't suppose you have one that covers a bit more."

"Warriors want freedom of movement, Marguerite." Niobe reproached her.

Veronica took some enjoyment at her companion's discomfiture.

"I really don't know how you ever fought all bound up like that." Niobe commented as Marguerite removed her blouse to reveal her camisole.

With a sigh Marguerite donned the Amazon leathers with a fervent prayer that their male companions didn't see her, in particular Roxton. She didn't like to think of the assessing looks she'd receive from the English nobleman if he saw her like this.

All too soon, for the Englishwoman's taste Niobe informed them they were expected in the arena.

As they neared the site of the games, Marguerite commented sotto voce to Veronica, "If I survive this, I get to make the plans from now on."

***

The jungle beauty's thoughts returned to the present; she noted how her friend hadn't let Roxton see the pain his interest in Hippolyta had caused her. When talking to the tall hunter Marguerite had maintained the slightly mocking tone she used to keep people at a distance.

The linguist's knowledge of the men certainly exceeded her own. Maybe she ought to talk to Marguerite on the best way to let Ned know his escapade meant nothing to her. Her chin lifted. She was a woman who had survived a jungle on her own. No way was she going to stand around and wait for crumbs of Ned's attention.

Malone's thoughts were a little more cheerful. He had just demonstrated his hunting capabilities in front of the jungle beauty; not a common occurrence. She was usually the one to bring down predators when they were together.

He thought that Veronica seemed to be more amused than offended by the little …incident in the village. "Which was as it should be. I never made any promises to her." He'd tried to get out of the situation in the village but how could he know how to deal with women like the Amazons? He was often at a loss even when dealing with Veronica. Of course, that was understandable; she didn't have a proper upbringing.

"Well, maybe proper is not the right word." He knew what he meant, but it often left him unsure of what he should do or say. On more than one occasion he'd put his foot in his mouth. He was better when he was putting words on paper than when he was talking to a woman directly.

Even when he tried a grand gesture, like staying behind when the others attempted to try their luck with the balloon, Veronica didn't seem grateful, at least not at first. She acted as if he had done something wrong. It's true he never discussed his intentions with her, but when he stayed he had felt like a hero in one of the penny dreadfuls. That was how they acted. Decisive, bold. They didn't discuss anything with the heroine. "Of course the heroines in those books never swung through trees and fought off savages in hand-to-hand combat. But still! She didn't even seemed impressed or flattered."

Seeing Roxton stepping forward towards their kill, Malone joined him to take the other end of the pole to which they had tied the boar. Veronica moved up to take point. They followed her with Challenger behind them and Marguerite took the rear, holding her rifle ready. Carrying a fresh kill through the jungle could be a risky proposition.

Malone's thoughts returned to the past and his dilemma over Veronica. When Niko had appeared demanding to purchase the jungle girl for his wife, he knew what his responsibility as a man was, but Veronica had disagreed. Not only was he facing a fight with Niko, he also had to fight with Veronica over his right to defend her. She couldn't see what was so obvious.

It wasn't that he didn't think Veronica was marvelous. She was! "She's beautiful; she can take down a raptor with a knife; she knows everything about the jungle and how to take care of herself. But how does a man deal with someone who doesn't understand the rules? She doesn't understand the role a man was supposed to play."

When dealing with either of the women in the treehouse, he frequently found himself unsure of himself. Since Veronica's childhood was so different, he could make allowances, but the one who really angered him was Marguerite. She should know how to behave, but she insisted on acting in what he could only describe as a completely unladylike manner.

When they went into Nemak's tavern by the Inland Sea, he could see that the crowd in the tavern was rough, boisterous and crude, not likely to treat a lady with respect. He knew Veronica could deal with anyone who tried to manhandle her and wouldn't like the implication that she couldn't. He offered to stay with the linguist for her own protection. Instead of Marguerite being grateful for his offer, she made him feel foolish. The fact that she later showed up to break them out of jail did nothing to alleviate his sense of ill-usage.

At least with Gladys, he knew how to act and she knew how to respond. She never left him at a loss as to what to say or do. With Gladys it was like being in a play where everyone had their lines. It made it so easy to talk to Gladys. There were no surprises. With Veronica he never knew what to expect. He was always at a lost for words. He sometimes felt like he was going through all those awkward stages of growing up again.

What really puzzled him was Veronica's reaction to him when he fumbled for words. He could swear she liked him better like that. That's when she always gave him her sweetest smiles. He just didn't see how that could be. "Women don't want men who aren't sure of themselves. Women don't want men who aren't always in charge of the situation. Women want men more like Roxton. And men want women who depend on them." At least that's what he learned from all the books he read.

Gladys always seemed like the ideal woman. Lovely, cultured, sweet, an almost childlike voice, ready to look up to man. Her only demand was that a man be worthy of her respect, a man who was a doer of great deeds. Her ideas of what constituted a proper man matched his own. Gladys was what he was supposed to want. Not only did she behave properly and act towards him the way a woman should; marrying the publisher's daughter was a good career move. Even her wanting a man of action seemed reasonable to him. It was what women were supposed to want. It was what he always thought he wanted to be. It was what he should want to be. All the stories he read as boy told him so.

"Yeah, I know what everyone is supposed to want, but what if it's no longer what I want? What then? Although just once I'd like to know what it would be like to be the hero, the one who jumps into the fight and saves the day, who takes all the clues and works out the problem; if I could be the one who comes up with the plan to save us."

If only he had a way of finding out, of being certain of what he wanted, if he had a way to talk things over and clear the air between Gladys and himself. "Dream on" he told himself.

He considered talking to Roxton who seemed not only at ease with unconventional women, but seemed to prefer them. He remembered Veronica talking about Hargrove's daughter, Renata, a sweet girl who had developed an obvious crush on Roxton. From what Veronica had told him, Roxton behaved almost paternally, distancing himself from her crush and emphasizing that young men were the ones who would be interested in her. Hero worship from a young girl left him unmoved romantically. It was the independent women that piqued the hunter's interest.

He had heard the women of the village laughing and discussing the sparring between Hippolyta and Roxton. Their rather blunt assessment of what Hippolyta had in mind for him, left him blushing. And until their treehouse companions had shown up, he suspected Roxton wouldn't have minded at all. No, Roxton had shown no interest in understanding how difficult the transition was for someone with a conventional upbringing. Despite Roxton's accusation, he did not consider himself puritanical.

Maybe Challenger might be a better choice to discuss this with. Challenger's life might be devoted to science but he had a more conventional attitude toward dealing with people. Well, at least when they first reached the plateau he had. Ned looked around at the professor. The red haired scientist seemed abstracted and did not look at him until Ned reached out with his free hand and touched his arm.

"Yes, Malone, what is it?"

"You're married…",

"Yes! What of it!" Challenger broke-in defensively. Seeing the guilty expression on Challenger's face Malone remembered too late that Selena also had demonstrated an interest in the scientist, which their companion returned.

"Nothing, nothing important." Ned fell silent.

Challenger returned to his brooding. It was true he wasn't the most devoted of men leaving his wife time after time for the next opportunity of discovery. But Jessie had known that when he had married her. Science was his passion. These little incidents with Selena and before her, Cassandra, were nothing more than just that - incidents. He knew Jessie would forgive him….if she ever found out.

She never said anything when he'd return from one of his extended research trips, but sometimes the look in her eyes made him wonder if she was aware of his frailties. Still, she never questioned him, just like she never reproached him for missed appointments or outings when he stayed late working in his lab. Perhaps when they returned to London he should do something for her, but than she might suspect.

Thinking of his wife's feelings was a new experience for Challenger. He hadn't given it much thought before. He married her, let her go her own way as long as she didn't make demands on him. Now he wondered if that was enough for her. "Maybe it would be better for Jessie if I just wasn't there, if there was a way for me to start fresh without anyone else to worry about."

All of this for Selena's sake. Selena, a leader, a healer, a philosopher, who seemed so patient and reasonable in discussing customs, yesterday. Selena, who wasn't like other women he knew. Selena, who according to Veronica, would have turned them over to the cannibals this morning. Selena, for whom, despite everything, he still yearned.

Feeling the urge to unburden himself, George quickened his pace to match Roxton's. At Roxton's look Challenger said in a low voice, "Selena had said they wouldn't have."

"Wouldn't have what, George?"

Challenger realized he spoke as if Roxton had been aware of his thoughts.

"Wouldn't have traded us to the cannibals. We weren't prisoners of war and we had tried to help one of their warriors. According to Selena we would have been kept out of the way during the exchange and later on they would have made sure we were taken a roundabout way through the jungle to avoid the cannibals and their feast."

"And you believe her?"

"I don't know whether I believe her because it's logical or because I want to believe her. And that's a hell of thing for a scientist to admit."

"I can't help you, George. I don't know that I believe her at all." Roxton's voice was gravelly. As Challenger dropped back behind him, Roxton returned to his own thoughts.

They approached the ridge over looking the valley; the edge of it was a rockier soil, hard packed. It wouldn't easily hold tracks. The jungle beauty brought them to a halt.

Roxton looked along the edge of the ridge, the hard crusted ground extended some distance.

"If I have my bearings correct, there's a stream not too far, it should flow into this valley." The dark-haired hunter looked at his blonde counterpart to confirm the geography.

"That's right, if we stay on the ridge, to get to the water, the stream bed is rocky at that point, not muddy, and we can make our way upstream a little distance and when we're far enough along head back to the treehouse."

"Now the only trick is to make our persistent friends think we've been the main course at a raptor's feast." Roxton studied the approach into the valley. "Why don't we rest a few minutes here." He and Ned put the boar down.

Roxton looked across at Marguerite who immediately found a rock to sink down upon, her head lowered. Challenger leaned against a tree, unwilling to give in further to the demands of his wound. Ned looked over at Veronica.

"You never said how you knew we were in trouble."

"We found a knife by the dead raptor, I knew where it was from."

"Why didn't you tell us about the Amazons and their practices?"

Veronica looked a little defensive and unsure of herself, not a common sight for the jungle-raised woman. Marguerite lifted her head and took in the look of guilt that Veronica wore.

"And what good would it have done?" the Englishwoman demanded. "You would have wanted to rush in and change everything and we saw how wonderfully that worked out! Not everything works the way we want it to. That's life! These women helped Veronica out in the past. They didn't make her change her way of living."

"I'm not surprised that you wouldn't care." Ned shot back.

"And when are you going to the men's village to free the captive Amazons?" Marguerite inquired with false sweetness.

"What?!"

"Well, since you feel that you should change the Amazons' society, when are you going to set things straight on the other side.

"But that's different –" Ned began, but Veronica cut in as she saw Marguerite prepared to take up the cudgels on her behalf.

"You're right, Ned, it is different, but not better, not for the women held captive; but we can't change everyone on the plateau."

"When we can make a difference, we will, but not every battle is ours to fight." Roxton put in, looking at Challenger who nodded. They had disagreed over the Tintas, who were giving tribute to the Hikari; the resulting battle was heartbreaking. Finding a compromise in their approach wasn't easy. Deciding to end the disagreement and get everyone moving again. Roxton hefted his rifle, wincing slightly as his wrist protested.

Challenger noticing his expression asked, "How badly did you burn yourself today?"

Looking at Marguerite, the hunter said, "It's not too bad, it'll keep until we reach the treehouse."

Marguerite didn't meet his eyes. Veronica seeing the Englishwoman's discomfort, glanced at Roxton and offered, "I have a salve at home that should help."

She knew Marguerite wouldn't want to be the one to tend to Roxton. The jungle beauty remembered the pained expression on Marguerite's face as the Amazons discussed Hippolyta and Roxton in the seconds before she smoothed it back into the unreadable mask she so often wore.

Roxton nodded his appreciation, his attention still taken by Marguerite's tactics of not dealing with him personally, unless it was to argue with him or put him in his place with some smart remark.

"I think I know what we can do. However, we will have to sacrifice our bacon. " Roxton nodded toward the boar. "We'll need some vine as well as quite a few rocks and fairly large sticks."

As the others began to gather the materials, Roxton started to create a path that could be easily followed and do a little scouting of the area he had in mind. His thoughts were grim as he considered his plan. He had hoped the time had past when he'd have to set vicious traps against other humans.

Once he decided they had gathered enough, they began to carry the material they collected down to a group of three trees Roxton had selected. The branches of the trees formed a cradle where he arranged the sticks to bear the weight of the rocks he selected. With a sure hand he tied off one end of the vine where a single tug would cause the fragile structure to collapse dumping its load onto the other rocks he placed below as well as some sticks that would easily snap with a sharp sound.

As he worked, on his structure Veronica & Marguerite ran the vine a short distance on the path concealed by the bushes. Near the top of the slope, off the path, Malone and Challenger butchered the boar into small pieces.

Roxton joined them as the men completed their work. "Okay, Challenger, once Marguerite and Veronica get up here. I want the three of you to start making your way towards the stream. Be sure and stay on the hard packed ground."

"What will you and Ned be doing?"

"We placing this on our platform, so it comes tumbling down with the everything else once our friends hit the trip wire." Further down the twisting path towards the trap, the two women were carefully using two conveniently spaced trees to stretch the vine using a gingerly balanced rock as a counterweight.

Veronica looked at the brunette who was carefully collecting some plants to disguise the vine's presence and considered what she was about to do. Asking for help did not come easily to the blonde who had spent so many years on her own. Taking a deep breath she began, "Marguerite, how do you let a man know you don't care?"

"Don't care about what?" The linguist carefully selected another bit of plant material.

"Don't care that a man has made a fool of himself over another woman."

Keeping her head bent to hide her smile, she thought, "Our little girl is growing up." A flip answer was on her lips when she thought back to the morning when the battle was done and Veronica took the time to make sure she was okay. "She deserves better. I guess school is in session." Looking at her companion she said, "I usually find a little setup where you make them expect one thing and then turn the tables works wonders."

"What do you mean?"

"Make them think you're about to give them everything they dreamed of and then turn prosaic on them."

"What do you say?"

"It's not so much what you say, as how you say it. You can talk about the most mundane thing, but drop your voice into a lower register." Marguerite was demonstrating as she talked, her voice deeper, taking time with her words. "Then slow down the words. Every word becomes filled with … meaning. Add a little emphasis, a little pause to your words here and … there." The Englishwoman reached up and with a fingertip pushed Veronica's chin up to close her mouth. She resumed her normal tones. "Then hit him with something normal and ordinary. The expression on his face will be priceless." "Malone, am I going to love seeing Veronica nail you."

"And this works?" Veronica was still somewhat dubious, despite the demonstration.

"Every time."

"Poor Roxton," the jungle beauty thought. To her housemate she said, "When should I try it."

"Now that's the trick; you have to listen for the right time. You'll know it. For maximum embarrassment I recommend using it when someone else is around to hear."

"Marguerite, that is devious and unprincipled."

With a gratified smile the linguist replied, "That's why it works."

Looking over their handiwork, the jungle-raised beauty saw that the vine looked like no more than part of the natural jungle tangle. The cannibals should not realize that the vine that they tripped over was the cause of the falling rocks. "Looks like we're done."

Veronica and Marguerite joined the men. "Now what?" asked Veronica.

"Ned and I have to add a little something to the mix."

"Are you crazy? Taking raw meat within hailing distance of the raptors." Veronica looked appalled.

"We need this, the noise of the rocks falling might not be enough to attract them. Besides the blood from the remnants of meat will help convince the cannibals we met our end here."

"Well, it should be you and I."

"No," Ned put in; "you have to be here to get everyone away."

"No more time to argue, just get everyone started. Ned and I will catch up to you."

"He's right, we won't linger." Ned's voice held a calm note that did not match the excitement on the inside. Roxton was treating him as an equal. Expecting him to assist in protecting the women and the older member of their party.

Marguerite had said nothing, but her face had paled. She watched the two men start carefully down the trail.

"Come on, we should get moving." Veronica said unhappily.

"I don't think so." Marguerite unshouldered her rifle and as the men turned at bend in the trail, she began to follow them.

For the first time since the discussion began, Challenger smiled. "Quite right, we can at least give them covering fire should the need arise.

Pleased with this alternative course of action, Veronica moved up next to Marguerite to be sure that they didn't inadvertently set off the trap. A few minutes later they had the men in sight. Challenger and Marguerite held the rifles ready and all three held their breath as Roxton clambered up the tree and carefully placed the bait that Ned handed to him.

As they saw the men leave the booby-trapped area they began to move back up the path.

As they reached the top, the men caught up with them.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" Roxton demanded.

"Oh, it was such a nice day, we thought we'd stop for a picnic!" Sarcasm dripped from Marguerite's voice.

"Come on you two, we don't know how far behind our pursuit is. We lost a lot of time preparing the trap."

"Exactly, why you were supposed to be gone, Challenger." The hard-edged reply could have cut steel.

"Get them moving, Roxton. I'll make sure that we don't leave any signs." Veronica's voice brooked no argument, matching the English lord's in tone.

Realizing his companions weren't happy with him for his high handed methods for ensuring their safety, he simply nodded and began to set a rapid pace along the ridge. A few minutes later a glance back showed him Veronica was close behind, ready to brush away any traces they left.

They were almost to the stream when they heard the noise. Voices, too distant for any words to be distinguishable. Everyone tensed. Guns were held ready. Would their pursuers, if that's who that was, fall for the false trail? The voices were heard again. The rest of the explorers looked at Marguerite. She nodded. It was them. The voices continued. Were they getting closer? Time stretched. All of a sudden there was distinct clatter, rocks hitting rocks. The voices grew in excitement.

"They think they found us, that we're hiding." Marguerite whispered. The voices continued, their excitement growing, and then suddenly there was a scream. Then more screams.

"If everyone is ready, let's move out." Roxton said curtly and they made their way to the stream, the running water helping to mask the sounds behind them.

The stream was fairly shallow. It did little to impede their progress, but no tracks would be left if any survivors tried to find them.

A short time later they left the stream. The explorers gathered themselves for the last leg of their journey. In an unusual burst of tactfulness, Challenger began to discuss the problems of electricity at the treehouse as they got closer to their destination.

As Challenger's words flowed over her, Marguerite thought back to the morning. "I've really disgraced myself this time."

She had been beside herself when confronted with the battle. Unarmed, both sides thinking she was allied with the enemy, a town under siege, fires burning all around her, fighting on all sides, it had thrown her back several years. She who prided herself on her coolness acted like a panic-stricken ninny.

The similarities between this situation and that episode in the Great War were uncanny. She couldn't talk about it to her companions. It's best they think her a coward. "Perhaps I am." The disaster of the day in the European town was still not something she could think of without shuddering.

She knew Lord Roxton couldn't think much of her anymore. Courage was what he respected and God knows she didn't display any today. She wasn't surprised that Roxton had made his admiration apparent for Hippolyta. A warrior woman would spark his interest. And even though she felt betrayed, she told herself she didn't have the right to condemn him. She had discouraged his advances often enough. True he had flirted with her and made it clear he would not be adverse to a more intimate relationship. But she knew better than anyone did how transitory men's affections were. It would be easier to keep saying no though if she didn't want so badly to say yes.

It was so tempting. Just a simple 'yes'. She could easily imagine the pleasure to be had in Lord Roxton's arms. The brief kisses and moments they had shared in the past pulled at her. She yearned to lean into his embrace, feel his hands threading themselves in her hair, lifting her face for his kiss.

But she knew that it wouldn't last, it never does, and then what would happen? This wasn't London where they could easily avoid each other, a polite nod at a social gathering, a discreet exit. At the treehouse they lived in each other's pockets and if the tension was bad now, she dreaded to think what it would be like after a failed affair. She needed distance from Roxton, from them all

"What I wouldn't give to be far away from here." Marguerite thought as they neared a clearing by the treehouse. "Nothing has worked out. The other half of the damned medallion is still nowhere to be found. The best clue I had to its whereabouts didn't pan out. Dammit, Ramses was my best lead so far. Symbols of rebirth were part of the Egyptian culture." She had seen several in Cairo. When she first talked to Ramses she was sure that this had to be the location, it all fit. Challenger and Malone were sure it was the riches to be had that convinced her to try and help the Egyptian. Certainly, she wouldn't have scorned any wealth he might have offered her, but the real pull had been the chance at finally locating that elusive archaeological treasure of Xan's.

Neferetiti, however, indicated they brought nothing like that over when they began their life on the plateau. Marguerite had taken the opportunity of a private conversation with the newly crowned Egyptian pharaoh to question her about images and artifacts before she returned with Challenger & Malone to the treehouse.

Now that her fellow explorers had confirmed that men, no matter what anyone said, were no different here they were at home; the plateau seemed even a harsher place more than ever. It had already been so much drearier since the run-in with Drakul. It brought home how easily they could all be lost, how one of them had been lost.

She missed Summerlee so badly. Odd, it was the little things she especially missed.

The way he always treated her like a lady, even though she knew she didn't deserve it.

The way he argued with Challenger, sometimes she was sure, just to annoy him. She always smiled to hear them.

Even the way he appointed himself her chaperone. She wondered if Roxton ever realized the number of times he interrupted them was on purpose. The old man was too wily not to have known. She smiled in remembrance. She was touched that he thought her in need of protection. Or worth it.

Just being here hurt so much. She needed to pull back into herself. Somehow she needed to regain the distance from the other explorers that had eroded away over the past months. But where to find that distance?

"If I was able to get away from the plateau, I'd still have to deal with the field marshal and with my oriental friend. The encounter with Dieter made it clear that there are still some with long memories and grudges. And I still wouldn't have the answers I came here for. I have a few stones but I still have all the questions. Wouldn't it be marvelous if there was a place where I could start fresh. Maybe I wouldn't care about the past, and the past wouldn't care about me. And I wouldn't have to see the contempt in Rox – in all their eyes."

"I think this is the spot we should put the windmill." Challenger had stopped in the middle of a clearing. "It should pick up every stray breeze right here. It's far enough away from the treehouse so the noise shouldn't be a constant bother. We can run the wires right along this path."

"If you say so, Challenger." Roxton smiled to see the scientist returning to his normal enthusiastic self.

"When will you begin work on it?" Malone wanted to know.

"We still have the gardening to finish." Veronica reminded them all.

"Does anyone else feel that?" Marguerite asked rubbing her fingertips together.

"Feel what?" inquired Roxton.

"It's like little pinpricks." The others exchanged looks, shaking their heads.

"A little overly sensitive, are we?" Ned wasn't one to waste an opportunity to get a dig in.

"You know, according to some of the research I found there are lines of energy that run through the earth. The plateau seems to have an inordinate number of them. Perhaps this is one of them. Strange though that you're the only one who notices it." Challenger thought back, trying to recollect more of the data he found.

Roxton looked oddly at Marguerite, something tugging at the back of his memory. Ned, too, glanced over, trying to recall something he thought might be vaguely important.

"Well, no matter. It shouldn't interfere with my windmill." Challenger was focused on his plans. "Really though, it's a shame to be playing with windmills on this plateau, I have my destiny to see to. What a splash I'll make back in London. What breakthroughs I have to show them. The name of George Edward Challenger will go down in history." Thoughts of confounding his rivals and assuring his place in history comforted Challenger as he turned toward the treehouse.

Marguerite lingered by the site of the new windmill as her companions followed Challenger. "What I would I have to do to get away from all of this? From all my problems." She thought yearningly and turned to follow the others.

No one noticed the soft glow that grew over the surface of the ground soon to be covered by the new windmill. Slowly the glow seeped into the earth below.

The ground now stood ready for when the opportunity presented itself to do Morrighan's bidding.

****

(A couple of weeks later.)

Roxton & Challenger left the treehouse to put the finishing touches on the windmill. Ned and Veronica went to gather firewood. Marguerite optimistically put a record on the gramophone.

****

(A day later.)

The helicopter was gone; the windmill stood in disrepair for a second time.

"Perhaps I should consider changing the location of the windmill. We really don't want a repeat of that experience." Challenger was once again dealing with the problem at hand.

"Probably a good idea, Professor. Maybe we could use some logs and roll the structure to a new location so we don't have to dismantle everything." Malone suggested.

"Yes, yes. That sounds like a good idea. Let me work out the stress points and we'll get started tomorrow. And don't forget after that we need to begin our survey work again. I want to have as much of the plateau as accurately mapped as possible."

"Good, I was afraid we wouldn't have anything to do with our time." Malone teased as he smiled at Veronica.

Challenger, Veronica and Malone started back towards the treehouse.

As Marguerite moved to follow them, Roxton reached out and took her arm, holding her back.

"Why, Marguerite?"

"If you want an answer, Roxton, you're going to have to be plainer than that."

"Didn't you think it through? What of the repercussions of traveling into the future? I know it's not easy here, but did you really think about what you were giving up?

"And what exactly would I have given up. What is here for me?"

Roxton had slowed their steps behind the others to talk to Marguerite as they made their way from the windmill to the treehouse. Now he stopped. The answer that he almost gave her, wasn't one he wanted to even consider in his own mind, not yet.

Marguerite turned and looked back at him, her face betraying none of her emotions, waiting for his response.

"Your friends, your life."

"Ah, yes, possibility of scintillating discussions, such as these! How could I give it all up."

The bitterness in her voice shocked Roxton. Since the debacle at the Amazon village she had kept a distance from him. On the surface she still laughed and quipped her way through the treehouse, but the closeness they'd experienced in the past was gone. She'd talk to him when others were around, but generally had someplace else to be when he came upon her by herself.

"Did you think you could run from your problems?"

His insight left her at loss momentarily.

"It's worked before."

"And when there's no place left to run, what then?"

"I'm not sure."

"Maybe it's time to work things out." The look Roxton wore offered nothing but a tentative friendship, a chance to begin again, but perhaps that was enough for now.

"At least while we're still on the plateau we can be friends," she thought. To Roxton she said, "Maybe you're right, John." Thinking about some of their past adventures, she thought of way of smoothing over some of the rough edges. "Would you consider teaching me a little more about handling a sword?"

"I'm not sure I want to face you with a sharpened implement in your hand." Roxton teased with a grin, relieved that she was willing to have some interaction with him.

"Why, Lord Roxton, I wouldn't have thought you a coward." She responded in kind. Both of them were grateful to return their relationship to an easier footing.

"You know me, I'm just the cautious sort." Her laughter at that incongruity caught the attention of the others.

Challenger looked back. "Good heavens, I forgot the box the pilot left for me, er, us."

"I'll give you a hand with it, George." Roxton offered.

Marguerite followed after Malone and Veronica, the tension of the past few weeks beginning to ease all around as she heard Veronica say, "Ned, you have got to try this flying disk that Rob left."

finis

Additional A/N: 'No plan survives contact with the enemy' is a quote circa 1866 from the Prussian Field Marshal Helmuth von Moltke, uncle to the German Chief of Staff Helmuth von Moltke in WWI. I thought it appropriate for Marguerite to know it.

And still more A/N: Since Marguerite's swordplay improved between Amazon's and Pirate's Curse, I thought she had to get her practice from somewhere.

And yet another A/N: I refer to Marguerite as an Englishwoman, not because either she or I are sure of her birth, but she seems to act like one. She worked for them in the war, the places she mentions at various times that she longs for are in England.

And my final A/N: I gave Marguerite and Veronica some by-play because Amazons seemed to indicate a better relationship between the two of them. They don't always stay friendly but it seems like they have their moments. I decided that the bad behavior of the men would have given them a bonding experience that may have lasted a short while. Also in the tag for Amazons as Veronica sets up Ned for the takedown, Marguerite looks like she knows what's coming.