The Flaming Mountain - Part 22
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Part 22

Scotty shook his head. "It was your idea. I'll stay on the ground. Take the governor and talk those troops into submission."

"Maybe," Rick said. "We'll see. I think it depends on whether or not they know the real story. If they have any idea there are diamonds around, they won't be interested in anything else."

"Guevara wouldn't dare to let them in on it," was Scotty's opinion.

"I'll bet they're just following orders, with no idea what's behind all this. Most of them probably think there really is a national security conference going on."

Rick thought Scotty was probably right. Time would tell. He waited until the engineer signaled that the job was done, then climbed into the pilot's seat. He checked the plane over. Plenty of gas. Everything seemed okay. He tried the loud-speaker switches, then spoke into the microphone. He could hear his voice boom out with thunderous amplification and saw Scotty clap his hands to his ears.

Finally, he started the motor and let the plane warm, keeping an eye on his gauges. When the manifold temperature got high enough he cut the switch. He tested the control surfaces and he was satisfied. Now all he needed was the governor.

Governor Montoya arrived within ten minutes. He inspected the plane and its equipment and nodded his approval. "Very ingenious. Shall we try it?"

"Yes, sir." Rick helped the governor in, buckled his safety belt, then ran around and got into the pilot's seat. He started the motor, waved to Scotty and the others, then taxied out to the runway. The tower gave him clearance and he took off.

"We'll make a swing over the area and locate the troops," he explained, "then I'll slow down as much as I can, and you can talk."

Rick climbed to a thousand feet and set a course directly for the Hot Springs Hotel. He asked, "Sir, how many troops are there?"

"Our army numbers three companies, of about two hundred and fifty men each. Then we have a few special units, including the transportation platoons. Perhaps nine hundred in all. We do not need a large army. But we need some kind of force. These are troubled times, and there is always some danger that a revolutionary force might consider us an excellent staging or training base for an invasion of a nearby country.

So, we keep prepared."

The Sky Wagon was over the hotel within minutes. Rick spotted a large group of soldiers--he estimated about two hundred--dispersed around the hotel. They probably thought they were guarding the conference.

He banked left and followed the contour of the mountain, and found another group of soldiers camped near the pumice works.

"That is two companies accounted for, more or less," the governor stated. "Now, can we find the third?"

It wasn't difficult. Rick followed the dirt road to San Souci, and found the third large group marching in the direction of the mountain, apparently about to join forces with the group at the pumice works.

"Let's take a look at the diamond pipe," he suggested, and pulled the Sky Wagon around in a tight circle. He had his bearings, and the third shot station was not difficult to locate. There was considerable activity. Earth-moving machinery had been moved into place and was operating. The yellow ground was already gone, and the equipment was cutting into the blue kimberlite below.

Military trucks were lined up, apparently waiting to be loaded with the blue earth.

"Where are they taking it?" the governor wondered.

Rick had talked with David Riddle about the process. "They need water.

The blue earth is run down long wooden tables with cleats on them, like washing out gold. The table is coated with grease. The diamonds stick in the grease and the blue earth washes away. They've probably set things up at the pumice works if there's water there. Otherwise, it may be the hotel."

"It has to be the hotel, then," the governor explained. "There would not be enough water at the pumice plant. Well, I think we have found all our troops. Those who are not with the three companies are below us, digging diamonds. I wonder if they know what they are digging?"

Rick told the governor what Scotty had said.

"That is probably right," the governor agreed. "Guevara would not dare to let too many in on the secret. Well, shall we get to work?"

"Yes, sir," Rick said. He handed the governor the microphone and swung into position for a run over the troops on the road. He throttled down, and then gave the plane a few degrees of flaps. He kept an eye on his air-speed indicator. If he got too slow, the plane would stall and he'd be too low to recover. "I'll make as tight a circle as I can," he said.

"Be ready."

The troops came into sight. Rick lost alt.i.tude and began a slow circle only a few hundred feet over the marching soldiers. He turned on the switches and nodded.

The governor began to talk in slow, clear Spanish. Rick understood that he identified himself to the men below, but then he lost the trend of the talk. He concentrated on flying. The loud-speakers were operating perfectly, and he knew the troops could hear.

He could see them looking up and pointing, but they kept marching.

Apparently the governor wasn't making much of an impact. The governor paused, and Rick cut the switches.

"Maybe they don't believe it's you," he suggested.

"Perhaps not. But my voice is well known. I speak over the radio at least once a week. More likely the whole idea is just too much for them.

Who can believe that mountain over there is about to blow up?"

"Let's try the troops at the pumice works. Maybe you can tell them that all who care about their homeland should march at once to Calor."

"I'll try it," the governor agreed.

Rick circled low over the pumice works while the loud-speakers blasted at the troops below. They watched the plane, they pointed, some ran out for a better look. But when the governor pleaded with them to hurry to Calor to help save the people of the island, nothing happened.

"If El Viejo started smoking, they'd move fast enough," Rick said bitterly. "But then it would be too late. They just don't believe there is any danger, and maybe they're not sure it's you. I guess no one has ever given them orders from the air before."

"They are simple people," the governor agreed. "I think most of them have never heard of a volcano. They don't even know what an eruption is.

How can they be excited? If I ever succeed in getting good schools here, this may change. But it won't help us now."

Rick considered. It would do little good to repeat the announcement to the soldiers at the hotel. He wondered if Guevara and Connel were somewhere below, and with that thought he turned toward the diamond pipe.

"Let's see if we can do any good with the truckmen," he suggested. "Tell them the trucks are essential to the safety of their families."

The governor tried, while Rick held the plane in in a tight circle over the blue ground. Again, there was interest in the flying loud-speaker plane itself, but the message made no impact. Then Rick noticed tiny spurts of fire from one edge of the diamond field and cold sweat started on his forehead as he suddenly realized what they were.

"They're shooting at us!" he exclaimed, and gave the plane the gun, taking evasive action as the distance widened.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _"They're shooting at us!" Rick exclaimed, and gave the plane the gun_]

"I saw," the governor said wearily. "It was not the troops. It was the peons. Our friend Guevara is down there, I think. But he need not be afraid of our effect. We have had none."

Rick had seldom felt so frustrated. He was tempted to call the San Luzians a stupid bunch of cattle, but he realized the governor had stated the case accurately. They just didn't understand the danger. What would they understand?

His lips formed the word. "Diamonds!" At least they would understand treasure.

"Sir," he said excitedly, "we can break this up, at least enough so we can start collecting data again. If we tell them the whole story, they'll at least understand that Guevara is after great treasure.

They'll flock to the diamond field and disrupt the operation, and we can move back in to some of the shot stations. The people won't be any worse off than they are now, and it will give us a chance to do something!"

The governor considered. "Perhaps that is the only solution. It will not get my people to safety, but it will at least give us a chance to find out the exact situation. When I talked with your father this morning he said they needed more data or they could tell nothing about the timing of the eruption. If we get that data, then I will ask the Americans for troops. If we must, we will take the people off by armed force and save their lives in spite of themselves!"

Rick circled and lost alt.i.tude again. He got into position over the marching troops and turned on the switches, then gave the governor the signal.

Later, the governor told him what he had said:

"Soldiers of San Luz! Do you know why you are protecting this area? It is not because of a great conference. It is because Lieutenant Governor Guevara has found a great treasure! He is using you to help him to become the wealthiest man in the world! But what will you get out of this? Nothing! He will give you nothing! Go for yourself and see the blue earth. It is found only near mountains like El Viejo. Do you know what it contains? Diamonds! The most valuable gems in the whole world!

Will you let Guevara use you to make himself rich while you get nothing?

Do not be fools! Help yourselves to this wealth. Look for the crystal pebbles, the ones like cloudy gla.s.s, among the blue stones. Go! You are soldiers! Take your share!"