"I'm not waiting any longer! I'm going after them!"
"Alone! You'll get killed and that won't do either of them any good! We have to wait until we're sure Malone is alright enough to stay behind."
The fuzzy, surrounding voices slowly became clearer as Marguerite swam upwards toward consciousness. A deep, throbbing pain in the back of her skull screamed at her to let go back into oblivion but she fought against it. Her eyelids slowly fluttered open, and she saw a blurry Veronica leaning over her, naked concern on the blond woman's face. The dazed heiress automatically reached up to examine her fresh head wound, and she groaned with pain.
"Don't tell me Summerlee hit me with a skillet again," Marguerite cracked groggily, struggling to sit up. The pulsing pain reminding her of the time the Professor, under the influence of a mind-control drug, had sent her into painful unconsciousness.
Veronica threw Roxton a confused glance but decided to ignore the comment. She pushed firmly on Marguerite's chest, forcing her to lie down again.
"You need to stay lying down, Malone. You don't want to pass out again," Veronica advised.
Behind her, Roxton was pacing furiously his gun clenched in his hands and his hat on his head. "Alright, he's awake. I'm going," he said tensely.
"Would you give him a minute!" Veronica demanded. Her voice softened as she turned it on Marguerite. "Let me look at your head. You took quite a hit."
Veronica gently probed the wound, adjusting the bandage she had already applied.
Roxton stepped into the elevator and placed his hand on the lever. "I'm going after them Veronica, with or without you. Who knows what those savages are doing to Marguerite and Challenger while we waste time playing nursemaid!"
The attack! The violent events of only minutes before rushed back to Marguerite and she nearly jumped up with sudden urgency. However, her injury only allowed her to struggle weakly against Veronica's restraining hand.
"Marguerite!" Marguerite exclaimed, worry for her yet unclaimed body engulfing her. "We have to hurry before anything happens to her!"
Roxton stepped out of the waiting elevator and glared down at Marguerite. "Nothing would have happened to her if you had done anything to stop it!"
"Roxton!" Veronica protested.
"What was I supposed to do?" Marguerite demanded with as much heat as her dizzy condition could muster.
Roxton fell back into his angry pacing. "Oh I don't Malone, perhaps you could have suckered punched him while he was sitting down! It's worked well in the past!"
"This is no time for childish disagreements," Veronica stepped between Roxton and the sitting Marguerite. "All that matters now is helping Challenger and Marguerite!" She sat back down beside Malone and asked, "Ned, think: who attacked you?"
Marguerite's gaze turned inward and the scene replayed itself in her memory.
Malone glared at Marguerite but his heated reply was lost in Challenger's sudden cry of anguish. The two explorers twirled around to see the visionary crouched on the ground, his one arm cradling the other, which had an arrow protruding from it.
Marguerite glanced down at her empty hands in panic. She hadn't bothered to bring a gun with her. Malone looked over at her and she shrugged in helplessness as his gaze searched for a weapon.
That was when the warriors attacked.
Two of the warriors rushed at her and Marguerite automatically retreated, a cry escaping her lips. Before they could reach her, Malone lunged at one of them and punched him hard in the stomach. I hope he didn't break my hand, Marguerite thought with detachment. The man slumped to the ground but one of his fellows quickly took his place and shoved Malone roughly away.
Instead of following the injured reporter, the attacker turned back to her, his menacing approach crowding her back into a tree. As the warrior swung his heavy fist toward her, Marguerite dodged away from him with all the grace of her former feminine self. His hand connected with the unyielding tree and he crumpled over his injured appendage. Smiling triumphantly, Marguerite hit him hard in the back with her elbow and sent him to the ground with his friend. Only his friend, who had been nursing his bruised stomach, was no longer lying there.
Before Marguerite could turn around, she felt a stabbing pain in her lower back and she stumbled. The attacker turned her roughly around and punched her in the jaw. Marguerite's head snapped painfully back and she went limp in the man's arms. The native threw her to the ground in distaste, where his broken-handed friend, kicked her savagely in the side.
Gasping with the pain, Marguerite struggled to her knees. The warriors did nothing to stop her but the knives that shone coldly in their hands kept her from moving any further.
The fight was over. She could see Challenger, in his injured state, had been easily subdued. His good arm was now twisted painfully behind him by one of the natives who was keeping the scientist in check. Malone was immobilized by a particularly large man who held the reporter's arms tightly behind him, despite Malone's struggles.
One of the warriors strode confidently amongst the subdued prisoners, his expression dripping with satisfaction. The deference afforded to him by the other natives established him as the leader, and he quickly took control. Approaching Malone, he waved the inferior away and restrained the reporter himself. He held Malone in a chokehold and used his knife to threateningly caress Malone's neck.
"Seela tu kay je?" the leader spoke with menacing calm.
Alright woman, where are our stones? Marguerite silently and automatically translated. Her eyes widened. Oh no.
When Malone didn't reply, the leader shook him and angrily repeated his demand.
"I don't know what you're saying!" Malone insisted. Marguerite winced. The chief knew she could speak his language. The others did not know it but she had conversed with the leader a few times before and so logically he would expect Malone in her body to speak with him.
Enraged at Malone's refusal to cooperate, the leader gestured to the man covering Challenger and said, "Caro koota pyong. Aliy tee saw!" If you don't understand my words perhaps you will understand this.
One of the warriors obediently began tugging on the arrow in Challenger's arm. At the scientist's cry of pain, Malone struggled in the chief's grasp and Marguerite's mind raced. What was she going to do? The chief would never believe that that was Malone in her body!
Suddenly, a loud shot rang out and the man hurting Challenger screamed in anguish and collapsed on the ground. Another round followed, exploding a nearby tree branch. The warrior's conversed quickly but Marguerite still realized what was going to happen just before the butt of the knife slammed across the back of her head. The pain immediately surrendered to darkness.
Marguerite's pulled herself out of her remembering and turned her attention back to her impatiently waiting friends.
"The Lanadu. They came for the stones that-" Marguerite paused and shifted her eyes away from Veronica's, "-the stones that Marguerite found."
Roxton wasted no time in making a beeline for Challenger's lab. Marguerite could hear him banging around trying to get to the bag of sand where the explorers had hidden the jewels from Marguerite's itchy fingers. The ones that she had secretly found.
Veronica's eyes narrowed. "I should have known this was Marguerite's doing! I should have taken those stolen jewels right back!"
Marguerite automatically defended herself. "Stolen! I found-"
Roxton returned empty handed and even angrier than he had left.
"They're gone!" the hunter exclaimed. Marguerite's face twitched but Roxton was too worked up to notice.
"What?" Veronica jumped up from the couch. "I thought you hid them!"
"Apparently not well enough," Roxton said, comprehension growing on his face. "Marguerite was telling the truth, she didn't sprain her ankle."
"What?" Veronica tried again.
"Marguerite was telling me the truth about lying."
Veronica did not look any less confused but Marguerite certainly had something to say about it. "When did Marguerite tell you that?" she demanded. Just what else had Malone been letting out of the bag?
Roxton shook his dark head. "It doesn't matter. Stones or no stones. I'm getting Marguerite and Challenger back if I have to shoot every last Lanadu to do it."
He strode quickly to the elevator, and Marguerite carefully rose to follow him.
"Oh, no," Veronica laid a restraining hand on Marguerite's arm, "You're in no condition for a march through the jungle."
Marguerite set her chiselled jaw determinedly and gently removed Veronica's hand. "I have to go, Veronica. You could say I have a very personal interest in this particular rescue operation's success."
Veronica's eyes grew distant. "Oh, I see."
Marguerite knew that she had just created yet another Malone-Veronica problem, but there was no time to repair feelings.
The three of them piled into the elevator and it jerked steadily towards the jungle floor. When they reached the bottom, they quickly made their way outside the electric fence. Even in the dark, Veronica and Roxton had no trouble picking up the rough trail that the fleeing attackers had left in their haste to escape. After only a few minutes, they stumbled upon an injured Lanadu lying in pain on the path. A bullet had pierced his thigh and his energy was bleeding quickly away into the dirt. When he saw them he tried to reach for his knife, but Roxton quickly relieved him of it and Veronica stilled him with her own handy blade.
"Where did they take our friends?" Roxton demanded. When the native only stared back at him with cold eyes, the hunter took out his pistol and pointed the muzzle at the warrior's temple. "Unless you fancy another bullet for your collection, I suggest you start talking. Now!"
"Ugunda kee ta!" The native replied fiercely, but his voice shook slightly.
Frustrated, Roxton cocked the revolver and pressed it into the native's temple. "Last chance," he whispered darkly.
Seeing that the lord was about to blow away their only link to Challenger and her body, Marguerite interjected. "He doesn't understand you! The Lanadu can't speech English!"
Roxton looked back at Marguerite. "Well then he's not much use to us."
"Roxton," Veronica warned quietly as she caught the same murderous look Marguerite saw in Roxton's eye. The hunter had been pushed a little too far today and now he thought Marguerite was being put through who know's what. Of all times, this was not the right time to test him.
As Roxton's finger tightened on his gun's trigger, Marguerite burst in with what she knew of the Lanadu language. "Ca tee loonta jaay?" Where have your men gone?
The warrior looked up at her in surprise but his expression didn't even come close to the shock on Roxton and Veronica's faces.
---
From his kneeling position, Challenger's eyes were wide in apprehension of the blow that was soon to come. The warrior stood above him his knife held high, prepared to carry out the ordered execution. Challenger, with his bleeding arm, couldn't keep up and now the natives were prepared to take care of him.
"No!" Malone cried but he knew his protests were useless. The leader was watching the struggling reporter with smug amusement but nothing else.
Challenger's guard swung his arm in a swift arc and ran the blade's sharp edge across the scientist's throat. Challenger's mouth opened in a silent gasp as the blood appeared in a thick red line. Malone watched in horror as Challenger fell face-forward in the dirt, his good arm reaching helplessly for his torn neck.
That was how it should have happened.
Malone sat on the cool ground, his head leaned tiredly back against the pole his hands were tightly lashed to. Weak morning light ran in jagged lines across his face, stealing in through the planks of the poorly constructed shed. Beside him, Challenger lay tied up on the ground, hovering in a shallow state of unconsciousness. The arrow had been removed from his arm and his shirt had staunched the flow of blood. His throat, however, was perfectly fine.
Malone just couldn't understand it. After the warrior's swift attack and equally capable kidnapping, he had expected only cruel efficiency from his captors. That's why the reporter was so sure that Challenger was as good as dead as soon as the chief gave the order. However, the deadly slash had never come. The leader had merely watched the protesting Malone, and the executioner had stood in still preparation. Finally, the leader grew frustrated once again and the warriors had dragged Challenger to his feet. The kidnappers and kidnapped had then continued into the jungle.
As the rising sun began to touch the night sky, they reached a small village that was apparently their destination. The buildings were well-made and aesthetically appealing in design but the hut that the captives were thrown into was much more shabbily put together. They were left alone but Malone could hear people moving around outside.
With nothing to do but ponder their situation, Malone finally decided that Challenger's near slaying was merely an empty threat. The native chief was waiting for one of his prisoners to give him something in return for Challenger's life, but Malone had no idea what that something was. He couldn't even ask them what they wanted! Where was Marguerite when you really needed her? She had the uncanny ability of being able to understand and speak any language she came up against but that didn't help them if she wasn't there.
The shoddy door swung open and a man walked in, his heavily outlined eyes regarded the prisoners with distrust. He was carrying a small tray piled with fruit and a bowl of water. At seeing the liquid, Malone swallowed as best he could with his parched throat. The leader followed behind the warrior, looked at Malone, and said, "Relu teego?"
Malone silently returned the chief's stare but was as unable to answer as before.
His smile thinning, the chief took the bowl of water from the other man and offered it to the restrained Malone. His voice was almost pleasant as he spoke.
Malone answered, "I suppose I'm a little thirsty."
The leader's face fell and his expression turned stony. In frustration, he emptied the bowl slowly onto the hut's dirt floor. "Doen walli se ti farla jay," he muttered darkly and dropped the empty bowl at the disappointed journalist's feet.
With a sharp command from the chief, two warriors, that Malone recognized from the night's conflict, entered and picked up Challenger. As they cut the bonds at his feet, the visionary came groggily to life. "What's going on?" he mumbled.
The third man untied Malone from the pole and the two captives were dragged out into the morning light. The explorers were taken through the small village, past a small number of watching warriors. The absence of women, children, or animals convinced Malone that the small settlement must be some sort of camp for hunting or ceremonies. Probably not a good sign.
His fears were confirmed as the natives came to a stop at the edge of a pit. Malone peered over the edge to see a sheer wall twice the height of a man with a ladder leaned against it. Challenger tore his eyes away from the uninviting hole and exchanged worried looks with Malone.
"What in heaven's name do they want, Marguerite?" Challenger asked.
Malone shrugged nervously. "I have no idea."
Challenger's brows knit together with confusion. "Why don't you ask them?" When Malone didn't reply, Challenger continued, "Can't you understand what they're saying?"
Malone swallowed. "Challenger, there's something I need to tell you."
Satisfied that the prisoners were as intimidated by the dark pit as they could be, Challenger's captures pushed him past Malone and started forcing him down the ladder. From where he remained at the top with the chief, Malone watched the men pour a dark liquid on the scientist and then around him before returning up the ladder without him.
The pit had only two visible exits. One was the ladder, which the warriors wasted no time in retrieving once they reached the top, and the other was a crude opening leading into a dark cave. This latter avenue of escape, however, was barred by a stick fence.
The chief made sure that Malone saw the container that the dark liquid had been poured from once his men returned. It didn't take long for him to realize that it was blood. Why had they covered Challenger with blood just to have him trapped in the relative safety of a pit? No predator could reach him there, and it did not look as if the tribe was getting ready to introduce one.
Challenger looked up from his prison and shouted, "Marguerite, if you have a chance for escape take it! Don't wait for me!"
Malone shook his head. "That's what I have to tell you I'm not-"
The raptors hit the crude barrier with such suddenness that even the warriors jumped in alarm. The ravenous creatures had come stealthily out of the cave's darkness and were now bashing themselves against the fence that separated them from a blood-covered Challenger. Challenger quickly backed up and tripped over a loose bone that looked disturbingly human even from Malone's high vantage point.
Even with the new vicious arrivals, Malone could not grasp the reasoning behind his kidnappers' plan. The prehistoric man-eaters couldn't touch Challenger with that wooden barrier in the- A loud crack accompanied the raptors' latest onslaught as the fence shuddered with the abuse. The warriors smiled at the noise. That was it. There was a protective fence but it wasn't meant to hold.
If Malone didn't develop Marguerite's way with language to match her body very soon, Challenger's earlier pardon would only become a delay in execution.
To Be Continued…