Part 17 (1/2)

Crawford refrained from laughing at his commander of irregulars. ”It is not a _kambu_ device. My people deal not in magic. It is but one of the many of the things the new ways bring. One day, Guemama,” Homer's face remained expressionless, ”perhaps you will fly thus.”

The teguelmoust hid the other's blanch.

In the tent, Homer turned to the Bahaman, motioned to what seating arrangements were available.

Isobel said, ”I'll get some coffee.”

Cliff blurted, ”Holy Mackerel, if Donaldson, here, can drop in on us out of a clear sky, what keeps anybody else from doing it? Somebody with a couple of neopalm bombs in the way of calling cards.”

The dried up little man grimaced in his equivalent of a grin and said, ”Hold it, you chaps. I want to notify the others.”

”The others? What others?” Crawford said.

Donaldson ignored him for a moment, unslung the small bag he carried over one shoulder and dipped into it for a tiny, two-way radio. He pressed the buzzer b.u.t.ton, then held it up to his mouth. ”Jack, Jimmy, Dave. Here we are. Took donkey's years, but I found them. You chaps zero-in here.” He left the device on and set it to one side, then yawned and settled himself to the rug-covered ground, crosslegged, Dogon style.

Homer Crawford, even as he sat down himself on a footlocker, in lieu of a chair, rapped, ”How did you find us? Who did you just radio?

Where'd you come from?”

”I say, hold it,” Donaldson chuckled sourly. ”First of all, I've come to join up. I thought as far back as that time we co-operated in quelling the riots in Mopti that you ought to do this--proclaim yourself El Ha.s.san. When I heard you'd taken the step, I came to join up.”

”Oh, great,” Cliff said. ”What took you so long? We hardly get here, to our ultra-secret hideout, than here you are.”

Isobel came with the coffee and handed it around, silently. Then she, too, settled to the rug which covered the sand of the floor.

Rex Donaldson turned to Cliff and there was a wrinkle of amus.e.m.e.nt in the older man's eyes. ”I took so long, because I needed the time to recruit a few other chaps I knew would stand with us.”

Crawford rapped, ”That's who you just radioed?”

”Of course, old boy. I'd hardly bring the opposition down on us, would I?”

”Where are they?”

”In a couple of hovercraft, similar to your own, possibly twenty kilometers to the southwest.”

”You still haven't told us how you found us?”

The little man shrugged. ”After tendering my resignation to Sir Winton, I considered the possibilities, which narrowed down very quickly when I heard the Arab Legion had taken Tamanra.s.set.”

”Why?” Isobel said.

Donaldson shot a glance at her. ”Because, my dear, unless El Ha.s.san is able to retake Tamanra.s.set, his movement has come a cropper.” He turned his eyes back to Crawford, who was nervously running his hand through his hair. ”I knew you had done considerable work in this area, so your whereabouts became obvious seeing that Tamanra.s.set is in Tuareg country. It was simply a matter of finding what Tuareg encampment was your base, and since your quickest manner of gathering support would be to swing the Amenokal to your banner, I headed for his usual encampment this time of year.”

Cliff looked at Homer Crawford. ”If Rex found us so easily, so will anybody else.”

Isobel put in. ”Not necessarily. Mr. Donaldson has information that most of El Ha.s.san's opponents wouldn't.”

Homer came to his feet unhappily and began pacing. ”No, Isobel.

Ostrander, for instance, has all the dope Rex has and is just as capable of working it through to a conclusion. It takes no great insight to realize El Ha.s.san has to either put up or shut up when it comes to Tamanra.s.set. That's possibly why some of the other elements interested in North Africa have so far refrained from action against the Arab Union. They want to see what El Ha.s.san is going to do--find out just what he has on the ball.”