The Golden Skull: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

"I'm going," he said. "Let history record that Rick Brant carried a message to…"

"Not Garcia," Chahda said. "That was in Cuba, says my Worrold Alminack. Carry message to cops."

"How?" Scotty demanded.

"You create a diversion. I'll get in the jeep and make a run for it."

Scotty considered. "It could work. But I'll do it."

"My idea," Rick said firmly. "I'll do it."

Tony was deep in thought. After all, the safety of the expedition was his responsibility. "I got us into this," he said. "Bad judgment is no excuse. I was certain it would work out."

"Would have, if Lazada had stayed home," Chahda said. "I go with Rick. He drive, I shoot. Okay?"

"There doesn't seem to be any alternative," Tony agreed. "Staying or going makes little difference, so far as danger is concerned. All right, Rick. We can create a diversion when they start to charge next time. If we start the truck and roll it toward the village, I'm sure we can create a little excitement."

"That's smart," Scotty approved. "The truck would go right on across the road, across the terrace, and tumble down. It wouldn't hit the village, though. It would land on the next terrace."

"I doubt that they'd think of that in the excitement," Tony commented. "But take away the jeep and truck and you take away our good cover from spears. We need an earthwork fort, quickly. All hands turn to."

There were tools enough. While the Ifugao warriors argued among themselves, and Nangolat, somewhat calmed down, tried to work them up to a new pitch of excitement, the Spindrift group dug. Within a few minutes there was a very respectable earthen berm across the front of the recess. The riflemen could lie behind it and be reasonably protected from spears.

They were just in time, too. The Ifugaos were steadying down and Nangolat had a spear in his hand once more.

"I'll start the truck," Scotty said quickly. "Head for them, then jump out, leaving it in first. Don't start the jeep until I'm moving. We should be able to hold them off until you return in the Sky Wagon."

Rick suddenly realized that the steel poles for the pickup cable were with the gear on the truck. He reminded Scotty of the fact. "I'll snatch Tony's loot right out of your hands," he said. "That will take some of the heart out of them."

"Or make them madder," Scotty added. They hurried to unload the truck. Chahda checked his rifle.

"Make or break," Rick said. "If I make it, fine. If not, that breaks our chances down to zero. But I'll make it."

Scotty ran for the truck cab, climbed in, and started the engine. The Ifugaos stopped their yelling to look. For a moment they milled around, uncertain, then Scotty threw the truck into gear and started directly for them.

Rick and Chahda jumped into the jeep. Rick started the engine and pulled out the choke slightly to avoid a possible stall. Scotty leaped from the truck, leaving the unmanned vehicle to bounce across the meadow directly toward the ranks of the Ifugaos! They hesitated, then scattered – and Rick stepped on the gas.

He angled the jeep across the meadow, coaxing maximum speed out of it, paying no attention to ruts or bumps. From beside him came the sharp crack of Chahda's rifle. Once a spear passed overhead and dug into the rice beyond.

Then Rick slowed for the stone blocks at the edge of the meadow and let the jeep climb over them to the road. A spear clanged off the rear and another ripped the rear-seat cushion. Chahda fired one shot after another, muttering to himself in Hindi.

They were on the road! Rick gave the jeep all it would take. In his rear-view mirror he caught a glimpse of Ifugaos pursuing him, of the truck stopped at the edge of the meadow, then they were around the curve of a terrace wall, free.

Rick kept the accelerator to the floor except on the worst curves. They climbed out of the valley, crossed the ridge, and emerged at their camp. Pilipil was waiting. They slowed long enough to yell instructions to strike the tents and cooking gear, and load them in the jeep and be ready to leave on a moment's notice, then they drove down the mountain at breakneck speed, with Chahda holding on for dear life. Fortunately, they had to pass through only one gate, and the gatekeeper waved them right through. They passed Igorot villages, narrowly missing chickens and pigs, then bounced across a river bed and into Bontoc.

The trip had taken one hour. The boys pulled up in front of the road commissioner's office and ran in. De los Santos met them. "You are excited!" he exclaimed. "Is something wrong?"

"Very wrong," Rick replied. "We must use your phone. How do I get Baguio?"

"I will get it for you. Who do you want?"

"The constabulary!"

Santos looked startled, but he cranked the phone several times, talked in Ilokano, and finally handed the phone to Rick.

A voice at the other end said, "Constabulary detachment. Corporal Alvarez."

Rick said quickly, "We need help at Banaue. A party of Americans are trapped by Ifugaos. Unless they get help quickly, they'll all be killed!"

Corporal Alvarez replied, "There must be a mistake. The Ifugaos are peaceful."

"Not any more," Rick yelled. "I just came from there. They're throwing spears. They mean business!"

Suddenly the corporal was unable to understand. Rick yelled, begged, and threatened, to no avail. At last he hung up, defeated. "Something's fishy," he said. "Very fishy. The corporal knew what I meant, I'm sure. He treated it as a joke. Chahda, Lazada is behind this!"

Santos coughed. Rick whirled on him. "What do you know about it?"

"Nothing, I assure you."

The man was lying. Rick was sure of it. He grabbed him by the lapels and said, "Talk. Talk! My friends may lose their lives unless we can do something."

Chahda took a hunting knife from his belt and put the point against Santos' throat. "Talk," he said gently. "You have two seconds." He pushed a little.

Santos' light-brown complexion turned dirty gray. "All right," he gasped. "I am a good man, but Lazada is my boss. I do not like what he has done. Last night he stayed here, and I heard him talk to the American, Nast. They laughed about how they had told the constabulary that a group of crazy Americans were up here and would be calling them with a practical joke, to which they should not pay attention. They told the constabulary this both in Baguio and Manila."

"And they believed him, because he is Assistant Secretary of the Interior," Rick said bitterly. "Now what? We'll never convince them. He couldn't order them not to help, so he planted a story that would do the same thing. The only thing I can do now is call the American ambassador and see if he can go through diplomatic channels to get help."

"Take too much time," Chahda said. "It will be too late."

Santos muttered in the native dialect.

"What was that?" Rick asked sharply.

"Filipino saying. 'What good is hay to a dead horse.'"

"Wait!" Rick had a quick mental image of the Filipino officer who had first spoken the phrase. Colonel Felix Rojas. He would believe the story. Hadn't he warned them?

"Get me Manila," Rick said. "Quickly. Constabulary Headquarters!"

It took time. It seemed like an hour, but was only fifteen minutes. And Colonel Felix Rojas was on the wire.

Rick talked fast, telling the colonel the whole story, including Chahda's espionage activities. When he had finished, Rojas said crisply, "No time to get troops there. It will take planes. I will send a fighter plane first. Then will come a platoon of paratroopers, if I can get the Army to move fast enough. But it will be two hours before the troopers can get there, even with the best speed possible. The fighter will be there in an hour. Tell your friends to hold out. Return to Manila as soon as your party is safe. See no one, talk to no one until you see me."

The colonel rang off.

"An hour," Rick said. "And an hour after that before the paratroopers arrive. Can they hold out?"

"They must," Chahda said flatly.

CHAPTER XVIII

The Sky Wagon

The Sky Wagon climbed out of the valley at Bontoc and Rick set a course for Banaue. He took his pad and wrote a note to his friends, telling them of his conversation with Colonel Rojas and of the trick Lazada had pulled. He wrapped the note around a wrench and tied it with a piece of string.

Behind him, Chahda was busy with the bags for the cable pickup. He had already removed the hatch. He tied the bags in two bundles and put them in a handy place, to be tossed to the Spindrift group, then he got into the seat next to Rick.

"We pick up stuff, even though constabulary coming to rescue?"

Rick nodded. "The plane can do nothing but scare the Ifugaos off. That wouldn't prevent them from trying to capture the golden skull, anyway. And even after troops land, that stuff is too valuable and too tempting. Don't forget Lazada is on the scene. He could take over from the troopers and they wouldn't dare say no."

"True," Chahda agreed. "Better we get it. What you thinking about this deal with Lazada? Why does Nangolat trust him? And what does he want?"

"You told us the answers in Baguio," Rick reminded him. "Lazada told Nangolat he couldn't refuse a permit – which we never got, by the way – but that he would hinder us in other ways. Nangolat thinks Lazada is his friend, all right. Lazada must have told him that our real plans were to carry off the golden skull, probably to America. And why?"

"Because Lazada wants Ifugaos to massacre us after we have located skull," Chahda said. "That way, no witness. Dead men not telling stories on witness stand. Then Lazada and Nast shoot poor Nangolat and take stuff. Or something like that."

"Nice people," Rick commented.

The Sky Wagon was crossing the ridge. Soon they would be back on the scene. Chahda got into the rear seat, ready to throw the message and bags out through the access hatch.

"Wait until I signal," Rick reminded him, and put the Sky Wagon into a dive. He followed the road for a distance, then saw the truck and used that for a landmark. As he flashed past the Spindrift refuge he saw that the Ifugao warriors were in a semicircle around the edge of the meadow. Apparently the siege was still on. Now to drop the message. He gauged his distance and altitude. He wanted to be sure the message landed within reach.

"Get ready," he called, and circled until he was headed directly at the recess. When a crash into the terrace wall seemed imminent he yelled, "Now," and zoomed up into a screaming wing over. When he circled again, Tony and Scotty were reading the message.

The second time around, Chahda dropped the bags. Then there was a wait while Scotty and Angel set up the pickup poles.

The Ifugaos were obviously curious, nor were they the only ones. Rick saw Lazada, Nast, and the rest of their party emerge from the village and walk to a place on the terrace just beyond the meadow. They could not be seen by anyone within the recess, but they could watch what was going on in the meadow.

Scotty knew that Rick could not make pickups while flying toward the recess, so he was setting up the poles in such a way that Rick could fly parallel to the terrace wall in which the recess was located.

The pickup was very simple. Each bag was attached to a circle of cable about eight feet in diameter. When ready for pickup, the bag was put on the ground between the two poles and its cable was placed on angle irons at the tops of the poles. The cable was not anchored. The only purpose of the poles was to lift the cable far enough off the ground for convenient pickup.

Soon the first bag was in place and Scotty and Tony retired to the recess to watch. Rick pushed a button on his control board and the cable in the rear of the plane unwound. It was heavy, woven steel, terminating in a weighted six-inch hook.

Rick knew from many previous pickups the altitude at which to fly. He circled for the run, dropped to the correct altitude, and glued the plane's nose on the poles. The Sky Wagon passed over the poles, and the hook on its cable caught the cable stretched between the poles. That cable slid off the supports. The fast-moving plane took up the slack and the bag of artifacts was jerked from the ground. A touch of the button and the electric motor reeled it in. Chahda pulled the bag through the hatch, unhooked it, and put it in the luggage compartment. They were ready for another run.

Tony had dug up enough stuff for seven bags. That was a lot of artifacts. Each time Rick asked, "Was that one the skull?" And Chahda would shake his head.

The seventh bag was the skull. Rick was sure because of the clasped-hands wave Scotty gave him, and because Tony did not retreat into the recess. As Rick turned for his run he saw the sleek form of a military plane slip past. Help had arrived. He sighed his relief and held up his run to watch. The plane buzzed the Ifugaos and dropped a container with streamers attached. An Ifugao – Rick thought it was Nangolat – ran to get it.

Rick could imagine what the note said. "Do not attempt further harm to the Americans or your village will be bombed." Or some similar threat. Nangolat might not like it, but he would obey.

"Here we go," Rick said. He put the Sky Wagon on course and held it steady. The poles passed from sight and there was a strong jerk on the plane. That skull was heavy.

"Bag tearing! Reel in!" Chahda yelled.

Rick pushed the button and the winch whined, then suddenly screamed as the load was released. Gone! The skull was gone! He swung in a vertical bank just in time to see Nast lift the bag to his shoulder. Rick pounded the seat beside him with helpless rage!

The golden skull had fallen within reach of Nast and Lazada; it was in the hands of the enemy. Rick swung in a tight circle and saw them run to the station wagon and climb in.

"They waste no time," Chahda said bitterly. "That Lazada, he move fast."

"We'll never see that skull again," Rick muttered. "What rotten luck!"

The Hindu boy's face tightened with determination. "We get that skull back. Rick, fly to Bontoc. Open throttle wide and let us go!"

"There's nothing we can do at Bontoc," Rick objected. "No one there, or in Baguio either, would dare question Lazada."

"Go to Bontoc," Chahda urged. "Leave this to me, Rick. Chahda will take over."

"But what can you do?"

"I will know when the chance comes. You and Scotty will be ready. Somehow, some place, we will get our chance – and the golden skull will be ours again!"

CHAPTER XIX

The Nipa Hut

Colonel Felix Rojas paced the floor of Tony Briotti's room in the Manila Hotel. He was in uniform now, but his visit, as he made quite clear, was not official. At least not yet.

Rick had just finished relating the story of how the golden skull had fallen into the hands of Lazada. "Can't you just go to him and demand the skull?" he asked.

Rojas smiled sadly. "If only it were that simple. Suppose two Malays arrived at your Department of Defense and claimed that your Assistant Secretary of the Interior had stolen a valuable Indian necklace from an archaeological expedition. What would happen?"

Rick knew perfectly well what would happen. "They would get thrown out – if they could get anyone to listen to them in the first place."

"Exactly. The situation is not particularly different, except that I'm sure we pay more attention to Americans here than you would to Malays in your country. After all, you owned us for nearly half a century."

"You warned us," Scotty said. "Why?"

Rojas shrugged. "I may as well be frank. I knew of Nangolat's visits to Lazada. In fact, I was present at one meeting. And I knew that our esteemed Assistant Secretary was hungry for that buried gold. If I could prove some of the things I know about that man, he would no longer hold public office. He would be in jail. My hands were tied, officially, but unofficially I tried to warn you. I couldn't come right out and denounce Lazada."

"Of course not," Tony agreed. "We're grateful that you were able to say as much as you did."

Rojas nodded. "Let us continue. After you flew back to Bontoc, what happened?"

Rick picked up his tale. "Pilipil was on the mountain, waiting. We dropped down and signaled for him to go to Banaue in the jeep, then we landed at Bontoc and picked up the other jeep. Chahda became an Igorot again. He took the jeep and started for Baguio right away, while I stayed behind in Bontoc."

"I don't get the point of that," Rojas interrupted.

"Chahda intended to follow Lazada or Nast, whoever had the skull. They were coming over the mountain in a fast station wagon, and there were only two routes they could take – north to the Kalinga country, or south to Baguio. We didn't think they would go north. So Chahda started for Baguio, knowing that they would probably catch up to him before the jeep reached the Baguio gate. They were in so much of a hurry that they would not suspect an Igorot who pulled to the side of the one-lane road to let them pass him, which would make trailing them easier."

"Smart," Rojas said. "Then your friends arrived at Bontoc late that afternoon, and you flew them back to Baguio, leaving Angel Manotok to bring the truck."

"Yes. Of course we paid off Pilipil, Balaban, and the Igorots who had guarded the plane. Dog Meat rode back with Angel."

"And you haven't heard from your Hindu friend since?"

"No."

Rojas picked up his cap. "I would like very much to find Lazada with that golden skull in his possession. It would be a major service to the Philippines, because it would give the Secretary and the President positive grounds for his dismissal. I ask a favor. If you hear from your friend, will you let me know?"

"First thing," Tony Briotti promised.

When the constabulary colonel had gone, the three washed up and went downstairs. Tony was restless and Rick knew that he wanted to get to work on the artifacts they had flown down to Manila. The Ifugao treasure, minus the skull, was under guard at the university museum.

"Go on out to the museum," Rick said. "You're so restless I'm beginning to itch just watching you."

"Same here," Scotty agreed. "Go on, Tony. We'll wait here for word from Chahda."

"I really would like to," Tony said. "Perhaps I will, if you'll let me know the moment Chahda comes."

The boys promised to do so and Tony departed. They found comfortable chairs in the lounge and ordered fresh limeades.

"Angel should be arriving with the truck tomorrow," Scotty observed.

"Yes, with Dog Meat. Wonder if Chahda will be back by then?"

"I wish he'd let us know where he is," Scotty grumbled. "For all we know, Lazada may have captured him and tossed him into Manila Bay."

A waiter approached. "Ask him where our limeades are," Scotty said. "I'm thirsty. And I'm getting hungry."

"Again? We finished dinner less than an hour ago."

"It didn't seem like dinner," Scotty explained. "I can't get used to eating when the sun is high in the sky. I don't care what time it is, it should be dark when we eat. Now it's dusk and I'm hungry."

The waiter bowed. "Phone call for you, Mr. Brant – or Mr. Scott."

"Thank you. Wonder who this can be?"

"Chahda?" Scotty asked.

"That would be too much to hope for. Besides, he sends notes whenever he can. Doesn't like to phone."

But it was Chahda. He gave them rapid instructions. Dress in dark clothing. Meet him at Parañaque, a town to the south, just below the airport. Hurry. Chahda hung up. He had obviously been excited.

Rick and Scotty ran for their room. They changed clothes, then Rick tried to phone Tony at the museum. There was no answer. Constabulary Headquarters regretted that Colonel Rojas did not answer the phone in his quarters. They would send a messenger to find him. Rick left the message that he and Scotty were meeting Chahda, then the boys hurried to the desk and left a similar message for Tony.

A taxi took them to Parañaque. Like most small towns in the Philippines it consisted of a cathedral, a market, a botica or drugstore, and a few houses.

They found Chahda in front of the cathedral. He was dressed Filipino style in slacks and sport shirt, and his hair had been recut to a modified crew cut-the only cut possible after the Igorot one.

They dismissed the taxi. Chahda had the jeep. While he drove them through a backwoods road, he told them his story. He had pulled off the one-lane road to let Lazada and Nast pass just before he reached Baguio. Following them had been no problem from then on. They went to a house on the outskirts of Baguio, and by asking a few questions of the house servants – after first loosening their tongues with a few pesos – he had found that Lazada was proceeding on to Manila by car the following morning.

"There was a chance he might give Nast the skull to take care of," Chahda admitted, "but I not think so. Lazada not the kind of man with liking for letting gold out of his hands. So I go to barbershop, get haircut, pick up clothes where I left them with a friend of Dog Meat. Then I drive to Manila and stop at Malolos."

That was a town to the north of Manila on the road to Baguio. Chahda had pulled the same trick of letting Lazada overtake him.

"He comes by, and Nast is with him," Chahda continued. "I am surprised, because Lazada goes right to his house. I wait around nearly all day. Cannot call, because no phone handy. Well, tonight he took black limousine, and he and Nast come to Parañaque. He has skull. They go to this little barrio where we going, and go into nipa shack. Lazada stays there with the skull. Nast goes off in the limousine. So what I think?"

"What do you think?" Rick asked.

"I think Nast goes to get somebody, to bring them to Lazada. So I rush off and call you. Before you came, I saw Nast go by. So now the meeting is being held, and we must figure how to get the skull."

Chahda reached forward and switched off the jeep's headlights. For an instant it was very dark, then as Rick's eyes became adjusted to the darkness he saw that the road was visible as a white pathway between the rice paddies. Ahead were the lights of houses. They had reached the barrio where the meeting was to be held.

Rick looked around and saw that the sky to the north was aglow with the lights of Manila. Then he saw a plane take off and realized that they were only a short distance from the airport.

Chahda pulled off the road into a patch of nipa palms, went through the palms, and parked behind a feathery thicket of bamboo. "We walk to shack," he said. He took a bolo from under the rear seat of the jeep and tucked it into his belt.

The Hindu boy led them a hundred yards down the road, then turned off onto a path. In a moment he pointed.

Ahead, alone in a clearing, was a typical nipa hut. It was built on stilts in the traditional Filipino way, and there was room underneath the supporting posts for a tall man to stand upright. The house itself was square, with walls of woven thatch made from the nipa palm. The roof was pyramidal, heavily thatched with layer after layer of straw. The floor was of split bamboo, a single layer of springy bamboo strips as wide as a man's thumb laid across a framing of whole bamboo supports.

Except that it allowed mosquitoes to roam in and out and gave no bar to lizards or snakes, it was ideal for the climate. The openwork floor allowed the breezes to circulate through the whole house. Also, housekeeping was simple. Dust couldn't gather. It just fell through the floor.

Filipinos had lived in houses like this for centuries, but the influence of Western civilization was visible in the form of electric lights. It was visible in another way at this particular nipa hut, too. Next to it was a shiny limousine, the property of Irineo Lazada.

Chahda whispered, "We get close. Be very quiet and follow me."

It was dark enough. Chahda led the way, and Rick and Scotty followed. There was little cover, but there was no guard outside the house. Apparently Lazada and Nast felt quite safe. They did not know how effectively Chahda had shadowed them.

Chahda made his way slowly until they were beside the big limousine. There was a murmur of voices from above, Lazada's predominating.

Rick swallowed hard as Chahda left the limousine and and walked right under the hut, but he and Scotty followed, scarcely daring to breathe. It was dark and he almost knocked over a stack of wooden boxes. Then, under the hut, there was light.