“Yep. They’re after Caroline and me. The army’s been tracking us for weeks.”

The reporter was genuinely dumbfounded. “But why?”

“They want me to turn Jed over to them.”

McClure’s eyes widened es he studied the backpack and its burden, which Ross Ed had propped up against the rear of the lean-to. “You don’t mean that’s a reel alien? I thought you’d stolen a movie prop or something.”

“Nope. He’s real enough. Dead, though. We’ve been telling you all along. You just haven’t been listening.”

“I’ve been trying to cover a rebellion. It tends to occupy all your thoughts.” Now the reporter couldn’t take his eyes off the motionless body. “And the army wants it?”

“Army intelligence.” Ross smiled thinly. “I bet if I had a good pair of binoculars, I could give you the names of some of the soldiers in the lead. Last time we saw them was in Malibu.”

“Where else?” commented McClure sardonically. “I don’t know if I believe you, but something’s sure got the Mexican army in an uproar. This is the first time they’ve made a push this high into these mountains.” Men and women were rushing too and fro around him, collapsing gear and loading packs. “We’re going to have to move.”

“Maybe,” Caroline murmured as the reporter turned to load his own gear, “this will convince our Indian hosts that Jed doesn’t bring good luck.”

“Just so long as they don’t decide to shoot the bearers of bad tidings,” he replied.

Within an amazingly short span of time every useful item had been crammed into duffels, shoulder bags, or two-man slings and the entire encampment had started up the almost invisible trail. Rain forest closed in suffocatingly around them.

Ross Ed shoved a thorny branch out of his way. “How do they know where they’re going in this?”

McClure looked back at him. “Are you kidding? These people know every tree, every stream, every mountain in this range, and half the monkeys by name.”

And every Mayan ruin? Ross Ed found himself wondering.

“The government either has to settle eventually with these people,” the reporter was saying, “or exterminate them. They’re part of the forest and they’re not going to go away.”

Caroline was looking back the way they’d come. “What about the camp? Won’t the army destroy it?”

“Sure, but it’s no great loss. These people can raise a village out of virgin jungle in less than a day. You’ll be interested to know that right now they’re debating whether or not to get rid of you and your idol. Seems they feel they may have been mistaken about Aza.”

“What do they plan to do about it?” Ross Ed asked guardedly.

“They’re not planning to shoot you or anything. Relax. Maybe they’ll leave you for the U.S. soldiers to find.”

That would he about right, Ross thought disgustedly. When they hadn’t wanted to go into the jungle, the rebels had taken them by force. Now that they might want to remain with the Indians to avoid the attentions of the army, their host were considering dumping them. He wondered how hit friends, irte captains three, were enjoying the bugs and huminity. The thought made him feel a little better.

“Is there much more of this climbing?” Caroline was starting to labor and her fair skin was suffering from the intermittent exposure to raw tropical sun. Like Ross Ed, she was perspiring profusely.

McClure could offer no solace. ‘his part of the Yucatán is all up and down. One near impassable ridge after another. That’s why the rain forest here is still largely intact. Good for the environment, good for guerrilla fighters, not so good for hiking.”

To the visitors’ relief, the trail soon started down into the next lush, overgrown valley. Rain began to pelt them, the drops heavy and warm. Amid the gathering downpour, one cloud moved with significant independence.

The Culakhan Frontrunner stood before a vitreous wall in which assorted images were floating. Readouts drifted into the image, responding to retinal contact by sliding our again once they had been read.

“They are almost directly beneath us,” reported one of the monitoring technicians. She sat sideways to her instrumentation, manipulating it mostly with voice commands and only occasionally with her prehensile tail.

“I can see that.” Uroon stoically examined the screens.

“Do you wish us to descend to within lifting range and pick them up?”

“Nor yet. There are too many natives in the immediate vicinity. This time we would he observed by a multitude. Yuu know that portion of the Codes which restricts contact with primitive civilizations.” He turned away from the wall ,of information. “Now that we have relocated the Shakaleeshva, there is no need to rush the matter.” Reaching up and back with a foreleg, he scratched his belly. “Such transfers are best accomplished under cover of darkness. We will wait and see what opportunities the night brings.”

“We could simply obliterate the immediate countryside und all observers located therein,” suggested another technician. “Do you not, Frontrunner, sometimes feel the urge to overlook portions of the Codes?”

“I would sooner overlook mating.” Uroon’s expression was stern. “The Codes are the Culakhan. Without them we would be no better than the Shakalecshva. I commend to you the chapter on patience.” Suitably abashed, the tech who had ventured the recommendation hung her head down to her chest.

“We will repossess the vile Shakaleeshva and its attendant humans soon enough. This time there will be no mental tricks.” Red eyes gleamed in the subdued light of the command chamber. “I do not enjoy playing the fool.”

Later that afternoon the line of rebels halted beside the river that ran through the narrow valley. There was no sign of imminent pursuit and those in charge felt it was safe to stop.

No one was more pleased than Caroline, who was near the end of her proverbial rope. She was neither built not dressed for cross-country walking. Plunging her face into the clear, cool river water helped greatly to revive her spirits if not her strength.

They were startled when sounds materialized in the forest up ahead instead of behind them. Ross Ed tensed and moved closer to the visitor from New York.

“What is it? Army?”

McClure was staring into the trees. “Don’t know. I didn’t give them that much credit. Flanking maneuvers aren’t their style.”

An Indian came bursting out of the trees to wade the shallow tributary. When this scout sat down and began chattering calmly to his seated comrades, the reporter relaxed.

“Whatever it is, it’s apparently nothing to get excited about. For a minute I thought the army might have helicoptered some elite troops in ahead of us. That would mean real trouble. But the government prefers to hold its best soldiers back for parading, and for guarding government buildings. I really think they want to negotiate the end to his uprising. For one thing, it’d look better to the IMF.” He drank noisily from his canteen.

“Then what’s going on?” Having dunked her head completely underwater, a refreshed Caroline was now patiently braiding the sodden strands.

“Beats me. I expect we’ll find out soon enough.”

They did. Three heavily armed strangers appeared on the far side of the river and hailed the rebels. Granted safe passage, they proceeded to wade across. Two carried automatic weapons. The third wore a pistol on either hip, expensive (and now very wet) dress boots fashioned from some exotic leather, a clean cotton shirt, and an immaculate wide-brimmed Panama hat. Impressively, his holster leather matched that of his boots.

After glancing briefly at Ross Ed and lingeringly at Caroline, he took a moment to study Jed. Whispering something to one of his men, he turned and crouched to converse with the leaders of the rebel band.

“What’s this all about?” Caroline edged closer to McClure. “Who are these guys?”

“Quiet. Let me listen.” The reporter strained to overhear.

When he finally turned back to them, he wore an expression unlike any they’d seen before. “Well, you don’t have to worry about anyone shooting you. It’s been decided that you are to be turned over to these newcomers, alien and all.”

“But who are they?” a suddenly tense Caroline demanded to

“I’m not sure. Haven’t seen them before. Haven’t been in this pan of the jungle before. As near as I can make out, you’ve been sold.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “I beg your pardon?”

“Hey, I’m not positive. My Spanish isn’t perfect. But that’s the way it sounds. You can’t blame the rebels. They need money for supplies and weapons and this gives them a conscientious way to get rid of you and your bad-luck god. They’re going to take the money and run.”

“They can’t sell us,” Ross Ed objected. “We’re not even for rent. And besides, we don’t happen to belong to them.”