Sounds of war can be heard in the distance. The airmen want to protect the villages, so the natives have to be told what will happen if the war comes to their island.

"Will you just look at that?" Jack murmured to the others. Melanie was walking towards them carrying baskets containing their lunch, her body swaying with a natural rhythm that made the men's pulses quicken. "Can you believe, just a few months ago, she was Paul? I see it every day, but my brain still finds it amazing."

"It's a miracle, that's what it is," Les opined. "If she was a Catholic, she'd be in line for sainthood, that's for certain."

"Well, no," Doc said. "The saint would be the one who changed Paul into Melanie, not Melanie herself. But I agree, she's a good mover, isn't she, for someone who was a bloke when we landed."

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2010 Penny Lane. All rights reserved. Don't expect this to be historically accurate in any way.

---

As Doc approached the sacred meeting place he had to suppress a smile. It was a shallow bowl, heavily weathered as it was on the windward side of the island, totally overgrown with vegetation. It was also an old secondary cone of the central volcano and thus a place that none of the islanders would ever have gone near if they had realised the fact. Even though it was old and weathered, the bowl was still about thirty feet deep in the middle and over a hundred feet across at the rim. Access was possible through two separate weathered gashes on the lower, seaward, side, and both of these were guarded by groups of strange tribesmen. Doc expected trouble.

"tk'Tenepti, we greet you," said one who waited, a headman's feathered headband indicating his rank. "You are late. Was there difficulty with the yellow-faces?"

The headman of Doc's village replied. "Some, tk'Torendi. We simply waited till they passed. None of them has knowledge of the forest, which is probably for the good. We also had other difficulty, since our group here is not as usual."

The groups from two other villages had arrived in the airmen's village before Doc's group set out, as it was on their route. A tense stand-off had immediately developed when the others had discovered who was joining tk'Tenepti, meaning delay while the reasons for the Island meeting had to be made early to convince the other groups that their decisions were right. Doc thought that they had been convincing enough, sufficient to give them valuable allies for the heated debate which he knew was about to begin.

tk'Torendi's eyes flicked across Doc's group, counting. At these meetings, the groups from each village always consisted of nine men, six would be warriors who would ensure the safety of the group in transit plus the village headman and two supporting elders. tk'Torendi counted ten, and he checked again, his eyes finally coming to rest on Joe.

"I do not recognise this man, tk'Tenepti. Is he of your village?"

"He is of our village, but not born there. He is tk'Joe, and he was headman of the metal bird which fell on our island some eight moons ago. He is the reason for this meeting."

The other considered, then nodded, although he had an uneasy feeling that something else was wrong. He gestured to the entrance to the crater.

"These are strange times, tk'Tenepti, but I do not approve the breaking of custom. Please enter, all others have arrived. We must not keep them waiting, some have a long journey to return home."

Everyone squeezed through in a big group. Once inside, the warriors dispersed to stand in six groups spaced evenly around the rim of the crater, although still concealed from those outside, one from each village to a group. This was supposed to ensure that there would be no surprise attack from any village. The Elders made their way to the centre of the crater where some trees had been felled and the trunks arranged in a circle. In the centre was a pile of ash from the inevitable fire, but it was cold today. By common consent no-one wished to advertise the existence of the Island Council to the yellow-faces.

"What is this?" asked another headman in outrage. "You have defiled the sacred meeting place with a woman!"

"A woman!" a third echoed, his face twisted with anger and revulsion. "tk'Tenepti, your village will suffer for this!"

There were other shouts, and the groups of warriors surrounding them turned towards the centre, their spears held tightly but nervously until they found out what was happening. No-one wanted to start a fight that could cause significant injuries among those present.

"tk'Tenepti," a very old headman came forward, his expression one of disgust. "What is the meaning of this? You have made the meeting place unclean."

"On the contrary, tk'Panekti, I have blessed it," tk'Tenepti replied. He gestured at the woman, who stepped over the nearest log and approached the fire.

"I am km'lilleh," Melanie said. "Hear me. I speak concerning the Thunder Spirit most can hear from their villages."

The men in the centre of the crater stopped and looked at her, their expressions wary. If she truly was an embodiment of the Forest Spirit, then no-one wanted to do anything which might incur her wrath. On the other hand, who could say that she really embodied the Forest Spirit? Three of the headmen turned away, as though to leave a place which had now become unclean.

tk'Tenepti spoke. "Eight moons ago, a metal bird fell from the sky onto our island. Five white-face warriors survived the fall. Three are standing here with me now. Do you want to take the risk that what they have to say is of no concern to you?"

The three stopped and turned. One spoke. "I do not believe that the white-faces would send their women to war," he remarked. "What story is this? A child could do better!"

Melanie said, "When I fell from the sky in the metal bird, I was not a woman. I was as much a warrior as any of you standing here. Do you not remember the story of km'lilleh? I did not ask to be changed, but the Forest Spirit chose me. Will you listen?"

One of the two headmen who had travelled to the meeting with Doc's group spoke up.

"I stand with tk'Tenepti," he said. "I was very angry when we arrived at his village and discovered that this woman would be coming with us. tk'Tenepti and these others explained, and I understood. I also asked others of his village, and they confirm the story. There are many there who witnessed the change from man to woman."

The other headman added, "I also stand with tk'Tenepti. I have spoken with his people, and also with the white-faces. What they have to say is important, tk'Toporu. Even if you do not agree with a woman coming here, as I do not, you should listen to what they have to say."

The old headman, tk'Panekti, decided to take a hand. "Enough! We shall all stay and listen to tk'Tenepti tell us the story of km'lilleh. When that is complete, those who wish to leave may do so, those who wish to stay may do so. For myself, I wish to hear what the white-faces have to say. Since the yellow-faces came to the island, life in my village has been hard. If the warriors who fell from the sky in the metal bird have useful things to tell, then I suggest we listen to them. Be seated. tk'Tenepti, begin."

With much grumbling, the headmen and their assistants took places on the tree-trunks surrounding the remains of the fire. tk'Tenepti remained standing but frowned at two of the parties seated before him.

"You are not headmen of villages. Who are you, and by what right do you appear here?"

One of the men, who wore a headband with a single feather in it, stood and addressed the gathering.

"I am sent by those of atu'Palunaan. If our headman tk'Kiptanui were to leave the village, the yellow-faces would know about the meeting. tk'Kiptanui is not free to do as the village needs, the yellow-faces prevent him."

Doc turned to Melanie and Joe. "atu'Palunaan is the fishing village on our side of the island. It's one of the main places the Japs are stationed, just as I understand the remainder are mostly at atu'Tapunaan, the fishing village on the east side. I should imagine the headmen of those villages are firmly under the thumb of the Japs."

tk'Tenepti glanced at Doc, hearing the English speech, and Doc explained what he had just told his companions. tk'Tenepti nodded and turned to the other native.

"I speak for the people of atu'Tapunaan," the man said. "As tk'Manopti has said, our headman thought it wise not to come. The yellow-faces are cruel and mistreat our people. I wish to hear what the white-faces have to say."

"Very well. Be sure nothing, nothing of this meeting is known to the yellow-faces. I shall begin with the arrival of the metal bird and what happened afterwards."

He recounted how a hunting party had followed a Japanese patrol towards an unusual sound that had occurred one afternoon, watching with interest as they had fought five surviving white-face warriors with guns at a small clearing. When it became clear that the white-faces were willing to keep up the fight the hunters stepped in to help them and then took them back to the village. Having explained the situation to the rescued men they had agreed to hide out by becoming villagers, a decision that tk'Tenepti had no hesitation in telling the other headmen had been a very good one. Although the airmen had had little woodcraft to begin with, they had more than offset that with their enthusiasm and fresh ideas.

Then he spoke about how tk'Pallo had become sleepy and hungry and started changing in front of the whole village. He was closely questioned by some of the headmen about the details of the transformation, and some of them had nodded as the answers apparently agreed with their own recollections of the legend. tk'Tenepti then told them about the ceremony when tk'Pallo had officially become m'Lanui, and that she subsequently had proved to be a 'proper woman'. Melanie had felt the stares of all eyes upon her as they understood that she was now a genuine woman with all that implied.

When tk'Tenepti stopped speaking two of the headmen stood up.

"This may be true, tk'Tenepti," one said. "I have known you a long time, and I believe what you say. This is still no reason to bring a woman to the meeting. I am leaving."

Joe spoke up. "If you leave now, your village and all those who live in it will probably be destroyed. We have come here to explain how that may be avoided."

"You don't remember me, tk'Toporu," Doc said. "But I remember you. I lived on this island many moons ago, as a white-face, not hidden as I am now. You were always difficult to convince, even then."

tk'Toporu frowned at Doc. "I remember the voice. You are the white-face who went from village to village learning our words. Are you a warrior too?"

"I am at the moment. The yellow-faces are so numerous that everyone on my island has had to become a warrior of one sort or another, to prevent them travelling further into our territory. They will stop at nothing, yield to no-one. Will you listen to us?"

tk'Toporu stared at Doc, conflicted by what he felt was right and proper and what he realised had suddenly become important. Eventually he motioned to his assistants and they all sat down, followed by the other headman who had stood.

"We will listen. These are not the ways of our people, but then we never had yellow-faces or white-faces on our island before. Proceed."

Joe stood and began to tell them all what his own people had learned of the Japanese invasion of almost everywhere he knew about. He told them how hard it had been in the beginning, and that the advantage had very gradually changed after the shock of the initial defeats. He then described the kind of war that was happening elsewhere, and what it would mean if the actual fighting came to atu'Pakalui - the local version of the name for the island.

"The fighting will mainly happen with guns, as you might expect. Every yellow-face will try to kill every white-face, and every white-face will try to kill every yellow-face. So much is expected when two tribes fight one another. But the fighting will take no account of the island people. Your villages will be burned to prevent them being used by the other side. Your pigs, goats, chickens will be killed. If you run away and hide in the forest, you may be lucky to survive for a time. If any yellow-face or white-face sees a movement in the forest, they will shoot just in case it is their enemy. Your weapons will be as nothing against the modern guns of the outsiders. Your women and children, if not killed, will be collected and held in pens like animals, and treated much worse. The white faces may treat you better than the yellow-faces would, but even that cannot be trusted in the confusion of war."

tk'Toporu asked, "You speak of terrible things. How much of this story is real, how much is to make us believe you? Have you seen this happen on other islands?"

"I have," Joe replied. "I was not involved in that fighting, because my task is to steer the metal birds to where they need to go, as if they were boats on the sea. But I have visited islands where fighting has happened." Joe didn't explain that his bomber squadron had been moved to a forward base on an island ravaged by fierce fighting between Japanese and Allied forces, that would have been complicated and unnecessary. "My story is as true as that told of m'Lanui. I do not wish that to happen here."

"Then what can we do?" asked tk'Toporu. "Are you asking us to run away? Because we cannot do that. Even if it were possible, we would wish to defend our villages. The people of the sea villages cannot do even that, as the yellow-faces would not let them."

"We have made a special plan to help prevent loss of life in our own village. We would like to tell you of it, so that you can all do the same in your own villages. It involves extra work by some, but it does mean that your people can escape into the forest if the fighting comes near. If you will permit, m'Lanui will describe it, since she is the one who directs the plan in our own village."

tk'Toporu pulled a sour expression, but he waved a hand in assent. In truth, he had considered the Japanese presence on the island to be little more than an irritant up until this point. The thought of major fighting here on his island, now spelled out, worried him more than the presence of a woman in the sacred meeting area did.

Melanie stepped forward and spoke about the precautions they had taken, the lookout posts, the rendezvous points should the villages come under attack, the assembly points deep in the forest where the villagers could hide until danger had passed, how the lookouts were manned and rotated to ensure no-one could approach the villages unseen, day or night. She had a problem drawing maps in the dust of the ground, as many of the headmen couldn't seem to grasp the idea, but some judiciously placed small rocks seemed to help get the ideas across.

The old headman, tk'Panekti, stood and said, "This is a good idea, and one that we should all consider. I cannot speak for others, but I do not think it would be difficult for my own village to do. It involves the use of an extra pig or two, perhaps, more than usual, but if it helps to save the lives of our women and children then it is worthy of consideration."

"But this is still running away," tk'Toporu said. "Must we hide and watch our houses be destroyed? Why can we not fight? We want to rid the island of yellow-faces." There was a general murmur of agreement.

"You know why," Joe responded. "Because, although there are easily enough warriors to overcome the yellow-faces, when the yellow-faces on other islands learn of it, they would send metal birds to destroy both you and your homes, and more yellow-faces would follow to take back the island. There is, however, a way which, together, we may be able to prevent that, and that is directly because we can hear the Thunder Spirit in the islands towards the sunrise."

"How so?" asked tk'Toporu. "The Thunder Spirit we hear is not like those that bring the black clouds and the heavy rains. What do you know of such things?"

"What you can hear is the sound of guns. Big guns. Very big guns. Guns that can throw metal cans as big as a man and heavier than a man can lift, and bombs that metal birds are dropping from the sky onto the yellow-faces. The fighting is approaching our island. When it gets very near to here, then the yellow-faces will become distracted and will not be able to prevent us taking back the island."

Then Joe explained in detail how he expected them all to help defeat the Japanese with less risk to themselves than from an open assault. Finally he produced his trump card. He had arrived at the meeting carrying a long thin basket slung diagonally over his shoulder which looked like a quiver full of spears. Some of the warriors had wondered why he had been carrying so many, and thought that this might be part of what the newcomers wanted to demonstrate. Joe carefully untied some small vines threaded around the top of the quiver and pulled out the bundle of spears, which turned out to be stubs a foot long tightly lashed together. Then he reached into the quiver and pulled out one of the captured rifles. Everyone in the centre stood up, surprised.

"These were taken from that patrol we met the day we fell on the island," Joe explained. "We have found some extra bullets for them, too."

"Do the yellow-faces know you have them?" asked tk'Toporu.

"The yellow-faces don't even know we are alive," replied Joe. "The patrol disappeared without trace. They must suspect, but they don't know. All villages have been searched for weapons and white-faces, many times, and nothing found. We think we are safe enough."

"How many of these do you have?" asked tk'Panekti.

"Eight. It is possible we may be able to get hold of more in the future. Are there any of your people who know how to use such things?"

"Some in my village," tk'Manopti responded. "But of course they are all watched. One or two may be able to slip away when the time comes."

"Can you not teach us how to use them, tk'Joe?" tk'Panekti asked. "There are enough warriors who would be willing, even here."

"No," Joe said. "Because we would have to use up our bullets in the teaching. Also, the noise of the shots would tell the yellow-faces that villagers have their guns, and they would come angrily and investigate. If there are any of the people who already know, then we would give guns to those first."

Joe held out the rifle to Melanie, who took it.

"I can kill a man with this at a distance farther away than any here can throw a spear," she said, holding the weapon up and operating the bolt. "Does any here doubt that I am still a warrior?" It was obvious to all that she knew how to handle the weapon properly.

"You are truly km'lilleh," tk'Toporu said. "We will listen to your words." He turned to Joe. "So, what is your plan, tk'Joe?"

Joe told them how he thought it was going to happen, and then the headmen all discussed the plan, each with their own viewpoint. Some of them had trouble thinking that far ahead, or in that much detail, or on so large a scale - for them. Between all of them they managed to make everyone understand what was at stake and the best way of ensuring that as few of the islanders got hurt as possible.

~o~O~o~

The lookout hut had been built fairly high up on the south side of the central volcano, well above the vegetation line. It had been built of bamboo poles hammered into the ash of the cone, hard up against a large boulder which protected it from the north, with more bamboo for the walls and broad palm fronds for the roof. The half nearest the boulder was completely enclosed, the southern part having only half walls like a verandah. At this hour of night, the only thing visible under the stars was the red glow from a cigarette one of the look-outs on the verandah was smoking.

It had needed a call for volunteers among the tribesmen of the nearest villages to find some who were willing to go that high up the cone. Now, a group of six crept up the boulder-strewn ash slope from each side of the ridge. Each group contained two of the airmen plus four natives. For the operation, it had been necessary to convince the natives to clean the clay decorations from their bodies in order to make themselves less visible in the dark in the exposed ground below the lookout hut. Fortunately, sound was not so much of a problem, since the attacking forces were now engaged only two islands away from Pakalui and even at this hour there were sporadic bursts of gunfire interspersed with the much deeper boom of naval bombardment.

There was a thrashing in the jungle down one side of the ridge. The red speck vanished, and there were voices from the hut. Doubtless the lookout from one side had come across to see what the other might have noticed. Soon all was quiet again and the cigarette reappeared, but the distraction had enabled one party to approach quite closely to the hut. A figure stood outlined against the night sky on the northern side of the boulder, an arm raised as a signal.

A trickle of stones started tumbling down the side of the ridge, and a lookout leaned out of the balcony to try and determine what had caused the movement. Suddenly he sagged, collapsing half over the rail of the balcony, his cigarette falling to the ash below. There were shadowy movements then, as one group came right up to the outside of the hut, opposite the gap in the verandah which was the entrance. The faintest of noises, and his companion fell with a thump to the floor of the verandah.

A sheet of canvas strung across the doorway into the enclosed half of the hut was pulled aside, showing a dim red-orange glow from instruments within, and a man appeared, alerted by the unexpected noise. He got two steps into the verandah and then collapsed across the lookout. A fourth man appeared briefly, startled by the unexpected attack, but before he could withdraw into the hut and give the alarm Les stood up from his place at the entrance to the verandah and threw a knife which hit the man in the chest. He fell back into the hut as the two parties merged and converged on the verandah.

"It's safe, Melanie, come on in," Joe said quietly. "There were only the four as we expected."

Melanie picked her way over the bodies and made her way into the enclosed half of the hut. Behind her, natives had started dragging the bodies out and were removing them from the verandah ready for transport away from the immediate area.

"Radios!" she said, looking at the equipment in the hut. "You were right, but I wasn't convinced." She sat down on a folding camp chair in front of the apparatus. "These are all marked up in Japanese, of course. It'll take me a while to figure out what does what, but they look like some of those captured samples we examined at the last forward base, they're copies of some of the older American models. Looks like they're hot, too, which will save me from having to figure out how to switch them on."

"Two phones," Les added. "Looks like that guess was right, too. Since the lookout hut is about halfway between the two main Jap camps, it would make sense to use it as a message centre. You sure we have to leave this, Skip? Seems a shame to let the Japs continue to use it while our boys are struggling to retake the islands. They have a grandstand view of operations from up here."

"I know, but if they get the slightest thought about local involvement in this little event they'll start taking the villages apart piece-meal. The general idea for now is to spook them, get them all twitchy about who's doing what to them and where they might strike next. When the next shift change comes at dawn all they'll find is an empty hut and no men. It'll seem like the Marie Celeste."

"Yeah, I know. Stick to the plan."

"How are you doing, Melanie?" Joe asked. She had a set of headphones on and was tentatively turning a dial on one of the units in front of her. She held up a hand briefly for silence, then turned and spoke.

"It's mostly Morse, of course, and all of it heavily coded," she replied. "I can send Morse out, I think I can find a frequency using by the Allies for rescue work, but without a valid code-book that'll be a flare-lit tip-off to all that there are allied personnel on this island. Of course, as we discussed, there will also probably be radios down in the fishing villages which could pick up anything we want to send. Doc?"

"Yeah. It's fortunate I have a good memory, isn't it? I know a code you can use which will get noticed, so I wrote up a message just in case. It's well out of date, of course, but the recipients will know that and know the reason why." He gave her a page torn from the notepad that had been salvaged from the plane. "Send that. Uh, better send it twice with about five minutes or so between transmissions. Then there might be as much as an hour before we can get a reply."

Melanie looked at the page of five-character groups, nodded, and turned back to her dials.

Joe nodded. "Good. I'll get our helpers to start disappearing those bodies and erasing the tracks we made coming up here. Remember, the moment we see any sign of the sun even thinking about coming up over there -" he gestured towards the east, "- we have to be leaving this place. And we have to leave it exactly as we found it. Okay?"

"Yes, Skip," Melanie said. "I've made a mental note of how this radio was set, I'll put it back when I've finished."

It was nearer two hours than one before Melanie heard a transmission she determined was a reply to the message she had sent for Doc. She copied it down - onto a page of Joe's notebook, she didn't want to leave traces by using any of the Japanese paper - and then gave it to Doc. He looked at it carefully in the dim light from the radios before nodding.

"That's it, chaps. It will take me a while to figure out what it says, so it's time to go. Skip?"

"Too right," Joe said. "I'm beginning to feel a bit exposed up here. Melanie, can you set that kit back the way it was?"

"No worries, Skip. Do you want me to turn it off when I've done that? The batteries will be flat by the time the next shift gets up here if I leave it all on."

"Leave it on," Joe said, shrugging. "If they have flat batteries that's their problem. You can't expect the disembodied spirit that took away the men to know how to switch radios off, can you? Besides, the longer the delay before they get operational again, the longer our lot will have without being observed from here."

"I'd still like to smash it all up," complained Les. "Seems wrong somehow to leave it all intact for them to continue using."

"Two reasons for that, Les, as you well know," Joe said as they tidied up the hut before leaving. "First, it adds to the general spookiness if everything's still going when they find it and second, we might need to use it again. Next time we come, we'll be back to destroy this place, but even so we might want to take the radio and batteries away with us."

"You spoil all the fun, Skip."

"There'll be plenty of fun later, just mark my words. Let's go."

Leaving the hut with a dim glow just visible past the edge of the canvas screen the party silently made their way down the side of the ridge and into the cover of the jungle. The last two of the party, warriors, very carefully brushed the volcanic sand so as to obscure the marks of their feet. Others carried the bodies of the four Japanese slung from poles while Les and Joe carried the real prize, four more rifles and a bag of ammunition.

Once in the forest it became too dark to proceed very far, so they moved to a pre-arranged hiding spot where all could rest until enough daylight showed for them to resume their journey. On the way the bodies of the Japanese soldiers would be expertly concealed. By breakfast time they were back in the village.

~o~O~o~

Doc grinned. "How's your Shakespeare, anyone?"

"Doc?"

"The reply, it's a cipher made using a Shakespeare quotation as a key. Look at this and tell me what you think." He handed round a piece of paper to the others, who sat eating fruit by one of the fires.

The paper had a single string of unspaced letters and numbers: "winter2discontent2summer". It passed through all hands before returning to Doc, leaving puzzled expressions behind.

"Didn't do much of the old bard at school," Jack said.

"What's that supposed to mean, anyway?" Les asked. "How do you know it's Shakespeare?"

"Because that's the system the Intelligence chaps I know tend to use," Doc explained. "You pick a random phrase from a play and use that to construct your cipher square. Any takers?"

"It's Richard the Third," Melanie said. "Don't know very much of the play, but that speech is about as famous as they get -

"Now is the winter of our discontent,

Made glorious summer by this son of York,

"Is that right?" she asked. "I guess the figures are the number of words between the given words."

"Bull's eye! So I can use that quotation as the basis for any message I want to send back to them."

"Did they tell us anything useful?" Joe asked.

"Oh yes. They now know there are five Aussies here on Pakalui, two hundred odd Japanese and no major assets either side needs. They haven't made a decision yet on whether to spend time and effort taking this island or leaving it alone and pushing on. They might spare some planes to annoy the enemy, again that depends on the current operations."

"You got all that out of a page of random letters?" Les asked.

Doc grinned. "In this kind of situation you have to learn to read between the lines. Think of all those cryptic cables people send just to save themselves the odd penny. There's a little more, but it's mostly house-keeping, so to speak. The main thing is, they know we're here, and by that I mean, they know we are here. My name on the original signal makes that clear, although they won't know who else survived until we're actually rescued."

"You said five people," Melanie observed. "You must have included me in that count, if so."

"I said there were five Aussies here," Doc replied. "I didn't say that they were all survivors from the plane, although that's what everyone will assume to start with." He grinned at Melanie. "Don't worry, it's all under control."

~o~O~o~

"Will you just look at that?" Jack murmured to the others. Melanie was walking towards them carrying baskets containing their lunch, her body swaying with a natural rhythm that made the men's pulses quicken. "Can you believe, just a few months ago, she was Paul? I see it every day, but my brain still finds it amazing."

"It's a miracle, that's what it is," Les opined. "If she was a Catholic, she'd be in line for sainthood, that's for certain."

"Well, no," Doc said. "The saint would be the one who changed Paul into Melanie, not Melanie herself. But I agree, she's a good mover, isn't she, for someone who was a bloke when we landed."

Melanie approached with a smile and handed out the baskets before sitting between them with her own meal.

"You seem to have adjusted well," Joe told her. "I wondered whether you would object to doing the jobs the other women do, but you seem happy enough."

Melanie shrugged. "I wondered myself at first, but that soon went away. It just seems natural. I thought I'd get bored weaving these halter-tops, for example, but there's quite a bit involved in the process and I got interested. I suppose much of the rest is pretty similar. You know I've been looking after m'Tuana's two kids while she concentrates on the new baby? I'd never done any of that before, and I've realised that I quite like doing that as well. It makes me wonder what having my own kids will be like." She pulled a face. "I definitely don't like the monthly thing. That's one of the few unpleasant aspects of becoming a woman." She looked pensive. "Ask me when we've been back in Oz for a few months. Now, that's something I'm not looking forward to. Being a woman in Australia is going to be a whole lot harder than doing it here, I guess."

"You got that right," Doc said. "We'll try and look after you as best as we can, but we're still servicemen and you're not any more. Don't think I haven't been worrying about that exact point."

As Melanie stacked the empty baskets to take them to the river and rinse them a force of Japanese entered the bottom end of the village. All activity stopped as the force, about twenty strong, walked into the cleared area and stopped. The interpreter came forward as tk'Tenepti hurried out from his house to meet them. Melanie noted that the soldiers seemed on edge, unlike the casual attitude they had shown on most previous visits. This group was double the usual patrol size, if not larger. Doc casually glanced around, making sure that nothing incriminating was on view. They were sitting close enough to hear the exchange between tk'Tenepti and the interpreter.

"There has been a disturbance, and some of the yellow-faces are missing."

"Oh? I know of no disturbance around here."

"It wasn't around your village. There is a house built by the yellow-faces, up on the slope of km'Pataloi where the forest does not grow."

"A house? On km'Pataloi? The yellow-faces would dare?"

"They did. From there they can see over most of the island as a bird does. They can see a long way over the sea, also. They judged it necessary to have such a place to warn them if the white-faces should come."

tk'Tenepti scowled. "They must have angered the Mountain Spirit, or the Thunder Spirit. The Thunder Spirit complains all the time now, it must be because of the yellow-faces going where they should not."

He took a step back from the interpreter, a movement noticed by the officer leading the soldiers. The interpreter told the officer what had been said so far, and the officer abruptly nodded. It seemed that they had been told the same things in other villages the party had been through. The interpreter returned to tk'Tenepti.

"He asks if you know anything of such matters."

"I have heard about the house from other villages. I have not seen it myself, and I would not dare to go there myself. What of these you say are missing?"

"There were four who went to the house yesterday as the sun set. They were supposed to keep a watch in the dark."

"In the dark? How could any see anything in the dark, except when the moon has risen?"

"They keep talking devices up there. It is said that they can talk to yellow-faces on other islands with the devices. In the morning more yellow-faces went to allow those who had stayed over night to rest, and there was no-one there." The interpreter made a face of contempt, although he was careful not to let any of the Japanese see it. "It was thought possible that the men may have become frightened and run away. If so, it is possible they may have been seen by your hunting groups. Would this be so?"

tk'Tenepti considered. "We have sent out two groups this morning, and no-one has mentioned seeing any yellow-faces, or indeed any other people at all. For myself, I think the Thunder Spirit has become angry and taken them."

"As do I, but if I tell him that he may become angry and strike me."

The interpreter turned and gave a heavily-edited version of the conversation to the Japanese officer. It sounded like he had heard much the same story before, so he called his men to order, and without glancing at the villagers at all marched his men out of the higher end of the village.

"It worked. Did you see the look on those soldier's faces?" Les asked after the coast was clear.

"Simple psychology," Doc answered. "Fear of the unknown. Those Japs have been on the island a while now, and they've soaked up some of the stories the locals tell. I bet a number of them are ready to believe a spirit came and plucked away some of their number. What with the fighting coming closer, some of them must be getting real twitchy now."

They were still discussing the business in low voices when, fifteen minutes later, a sudden load roar shattered the early afternoon calm. Two single-engined planes swooped low over the ridge and flew directly down the centre of the village, diving down almost to sea level before disappearing.

"I'm real glad that didn't happen when the soldiers were here," Doc said as he picked himself off the ground.

"Why?" Jack said as he helped Melanie up.

"We'd have given ourselves away, just like that," Doc said. "Didn't you notice? We were the only people who threw ourselves flat."

"Shit, you're right." The other villagers were just standing around in groups, trying to see where the aircraft had gone. Only the five had taken action by falling to the ground.

"Why, Doc?" asked Joe, dusting himself off.

"They've never experienced strafing, I would guess. To them a plane is a thing of wonder. No-one's told them about the guns in the wings, and they probably won't take any notice until it happens to them anyway. The Jap soldiers, on the other hand, would have spotted our different behaviour. You okay, Melanie?"

"I think so," she replied. "I don't think these'll be much use, though." She held up the stack of baskets, all mashed flat where she had fallen on them. "Fortunately, they don't take very long to make."

"Anyone identify the planes?" Joe asked. "Ours or theirs?"

"Neither, actually, Skip," Les said. "I saw US markings on the side of one, so they're Yank planes. Hardly surprising if they are fighting only a couple of islands away."

"Tail hooks," Melanie added. "Carrier planes. Don't recognise the type, though."

Doc said, "The Yanks have some new models in the pipeline, may be a couple of those. They needed some better performance to beat the Jap fighters. Might not be off a carrier, though. Could be a forward base on one of the nearby islands."

"So we're as close to getting rescued as that?" Jack asked.

Joe shrugged. "A week, a month, you know what war's like. Perhaps it's time to take the next step."

"Not tonight," Doc cautioned. "They'll have extra sentries posted for a couple of days. Let them stew for a while before the Forest Spirit visits them again."

"Now," Joe sighed, "We have another problem." They looked around as the whole village converged on the five in order to be told what just happened.

~o~O~o~

"The runner says," reported tk'Tenepti to Joe one morning several days later, "there are yellow-faces hidden in the forest below their house on the mountain. He says that his headman believes they are there to catch anyone trying to attack the house at night, but that it should be easy to deal with all of them if necessary. Do you want to try again tonight, tk'Joe?"

"Tonight or tomorrow night," Joe replied. "If we don't, then -" He stopped as a strange warrior loped into the high end of the village towards them. "Who's this?"

tk'Tenepti beckoned the man over to them. His brow furrowed, he did not recognise the village markings on the warrior's chest and face.

"May the forest be fruitful and your pigs fertile," the warrior gave a greeting. "I come from atu'Pokelu with strange news."

"May your hunt be successful and your feasting plentiful," tk'Tenepti responded. "atu'Pokelu? You have come a long way. You do not wear the marks of atu'Pokelu."

"It was thought wise to change the markings, in case we were captured by the yellow-faces. They may know what marks belong to which villages. Will you hear my message?"

"Speak."

"We have found a white-face wandering in the forest. We do not know how he got there. He wears clothing we have not seen before." The man turned to Joe. "You are one of the white-faces who are helping those of atu'Pakalui? It was thought that this stranger may be connected to you and your friends."

Joe was startled. Perhaps another downed airman? "What have you done with this person?"

"He stays in the forest, with hunters to prevent any yellow-faces from finding him. He speaks a little of the Trade tongue."

"We will come and speak to him. If he is a friend, we will bring him back here." Joe turned to tk'Tenepti. "I will go with tk'Doco. We will need an escort if we bring him back, will four hunters be sufficient?"

"Yes. I will call them. You had better get ready, and take a little food with you. atu'Pokelu is a long way."

The guide led Joe, Doc and four young hunters back the way he had come, taking a narrow track which led along the western slope of the mountain spine towards the south of the island. Once they saw another village in the distance but did not go near it. Eventually, after a break for a rest and a snack they rounded the slope of the southernmost volcano and looked out over the ocean. It seemed that the guide's village was one of the more remote on the island.

Their guide took them to his village, atu'Pokelu, where brief greetings were exchanged with the village elders. Joe recognised them from the Island Council meeting. They were told in more detail about the finding of the strange white-face before their guide set off again down the slope below the village. After some careful threading along narrow hunting trails through the thick vegetation another hunter appeared in front of them.

"You have come to talk to the white-face? He only knows a little of the Trade speech. Follow me."

They were led into a tiny secluded space hidden from casual sight in the mass of jungle foliage. A white man sat against a tree, fanning his face with an Australian issue slouch hat. He was dressed in khaki shirt and shorts, but a crumpled jump suit lay on the ground near him alongside a bulging duffle bag. He looked up as Joe and Doc entered. The other tribesmen remained on watch outside.

"Not more bloody natives," the man muttered. "Where are the white blokes who are supposed to be here?" He addressed Joe in Trade. "Can you take me to the white men? Do you know where they are?"

"You don't have to struggle with Trade, Brian," Doc said with a grin. "Good old King's English will do just fine."

The man started, his eyes wide. "My God! You're really Aussies? What a disguise!" A thought stopped him. "How do you know my name?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because I know you, idiot. Andrew, Andrew Ballantyne." Doc held out his hand.

"Bloody Christ on a pogo stick! I'd never have guessed! Andy!" He grabbed Doc's outstretched hand and shook it vigorously. "So it's true, then."

"Yes. For my sins I was on the plane that came down on this island. That would have been about nine months ago. Joe, may I present Brian Fraser, an associate in the Intelligence world whom I also had the misfortune to be in college with. Brian, this is Joe Maguire, the pilot of our plane."

"Pleased to meet you, Joe." Brian shook Joe's hand. "So, what's the plan, then?"

"We take you back to our village, although we'll have to keep you out of sight," Doc explained. "We'll need to know why you're here before we do anything else. We do have a plan, but it didn't involve outside help. Just how did you get here, anyhow?"

"Parachuted in last night. Muggins here got chosen because I knew some Trade. Those chaps found me this morning and made me stay here."

"Okay. We can talk about it as we go. We have a long walk back, so we'd better get started. I'll let your minders know that you're not for the pot."

Brian's face paled. "God, they're not cannibals, are they?"

Doc grinned. "Thought that would get your attention. No, fortunately not, although it did happen as recently as forty years ago. If this lot didn't like you, they wouldn't be so kind as to just eat you, they have other ideas about dealing with those they don't like. Fortunately for us, it's the yellow-faces who are the enemies at the moment, we're held in reasonably high regard."

"I'm not surprised! Until you opened your mouth I had no idea you weren't a native. That's a hell of a good job of blending in."

"Actually, we've been here so long that we practically are natives. Come on, let's get started. God, whatever have you got in this bag?"

Brian grinned. "A few bits and pieces. Some rations in case I couldn't find anything to eat -"

"That was just plain stupid, given how productive these islands are."

"Yeah, I told 'em, but they insisted. Also a radio in case you couldn't get to the one you used before, and some toys to help take the island back when the time comes. Grenades, plastic explosive. Binoculars, torches. Automatics with extra magazines. I wasn't sure I'd find you at all, so I had to be prepared to wage war all by myself, you understand."

"Plastic explosive? What's that?"

"Looks like putty. You can mould it around whatever you want to break or destroy."

"Okay. Let's break your bag into separate bundles and then we can all carry some, it'll be easier than shifting that monster round every half-mile. There's four here from our village to help out if we need them."

They stopped in an overgrown boulder field on the northern side of the volcano in order to rest and eat a little food. When an opportunity presented itself, Joe drew Doc away for a quiet word.

"What are we going to do with Brian when we get back to the village, Doc?"

"We can hide him in one of the houses. We have enough look-outs now that we're not likely to be surprised by an unexpected patrol, are we?"

"That wasn't quite what I was getting at. I understand that part of it, and it's not going to be quite so difficult as when we first went to the village, so much has changed since then. No, what I mean is, what about Melanie? I can't imagine Brian being there very long before someone mentions km'lilleh, can you?"

"Fortunately for us, his grasp of Trade isn't that good - although, to be fair, he can make himself understood - and he doesn't speak any of the local tongue at all. I would be surprised if he didn't pick some up in the few days he's going to be with us, he does have some knowledge of these islands after all."

"What is he? I mean, what did he do out here?"

"He covers biology and botany, mainly. Think of him as your traditional naturalist, interested in everything. I get what you're saying about Melanie, though. There's every chance that someone in the village is going to try and tell him the story, and they're going to assume he understands it the way we do."

Joe grunted. "Which is, in my case, not at all. Do you think we should tell him everything? After all, I remember when this whole mess started you suggested using intelligence contacts to get her off the island."

"I did, didn't I? Okay, let me try and figure out something as we walk back to the village."

~o~O~o~

"Where's Les?" asked Joe.

"Oh, he was down by the river helping some of the lads square up that new roof timber," Jack replied. "He'll be along any moment now."

"You sure this is a good idea?" asked Brian.

"No worries, mate," Doc assured him. "All the villagers are naturally at home in the jungle, so setting up look-out posts and sentries was dead easy. Any sign of trouble, we'll get plenty of advanced warning, and you can just fade into the forest behind the houses."

Brian Fraser sat uneasily in a corner of an inside room in the Long House where Doc lived. Seated on the floor around him were Joe, Doc, Jack and tk'Tenepti, although Brian was having difficulty determining who was really a native and who was a disguised Australian. The fact that everyone else looked 'normal' for the locality made him feel as though he stood out like a sore thumb.

Les, sweating with the effort he had recently been expending, walked through the door followed by Melanie. Both inspected Brian before taking seats.

"Er, I guess having the headman here is okay, Andy, but do you need to have someone's girlfriend as well? She's a bit of distraction, and I'd like to keep my profile as low as possible if you don't mind."

There was a shuffling and clearing of throats, and, although Brian couldn't read the expressions of those around him because of the dark dye, he realised that he'd said something he ought not to.

Doc coughed. "Brian, let me introduce you to Les Parnell, our engineer, and Melanie Chisholm, a lone Aussie girl also hiding out from the Japs. Les, Melanie, this is Brian Fraser, who's parachuted in to help us get the Japs off the island, and then to help us get off the island."

"G'day, Brian," Melanie said.

Brian looked extremely embarrassed. "Oh, cripes, I'm sorry, I didn't realise. I was expecting five blokes. We naturally assumed that all five people here were members of the bomber crew."

"Yeah, well," Doc said to cover any awkwardness, "I didn't want to make my message too long, I didn't know how much time M-, we would have to send it. I knew you lot would probably draw the wrong conclusion. So, what can you do for us, and what can we do for you? Are the Allies planning to take this island or bypass it?"

"Normally, where there's only a token force left behind we'd bypass it and sort them out later, but since you were on the island we decided to rescue you. If there's really only two hundred Japs here, then we'll take it. You're more important than a bunch of natives."

"In the greater scheme of things, you're probably right," Joe said. "But don't go saying anything like that to the locals or you'll get lynched, okay?"

Brian looked at tk'Tenepti, who had understood barely a word of what had passed. "Uh, yeah. So, we have an outline plan, but we need to know what resources you might have set up here. Sounds like you've been busy from what I've seen and heard so far. Perhaps you'd better tell me your story first."

After a hesitant start the five told Brian of their nine months in the jungle, concluding with a description of the arrangements Joe and Doc had set up with all the other villages. Brian was increasingly puzzled by the contribution which the young woman was making, but he decided that if they had lived together in the same village all that time she would naturally be involved in all the plotting.

"That look-out post on the ridge," he said when they had finished, "we can take care of that. Is it that easy to spot from the air, do you think?" When they nodded, he went on, "I can organise an air strike, take care of that little problem. No-one would know that the villagers had anything to do with it. I have a radio with me, so we don't need to capture the Japs' ones to make contact. Next thing would probably be an attack on the fishing villages by aircraft. Can you get the villagers out, if that happens?"

Doc relayed the talk so far to tk'Tenepti, who nodded in return, a mannerism he had picked up from the airmen.

"If you shoot up the look-out hut," Joe said, "I'm not sure what the enemy would do. They might come out of the port villages to try and rebuild the hut or they might decide to sit tight. If they come out, we can pick them off piece-meal, and we can probably evacuate the villages. If they sit tight, I don't know what we'd do."

"Experience so far indicates they'd probably let the locals run off so as not to be underfoot," Brian said. "That shouldn't be a problem, and also saves the Japs from having to feed them all. If they stay put, the next step would be a destroyer or two handing out a naval bombardment." He grimaced. "Experience also indicates they're likely to dig in on the mountains. It's the devil's own job getting them out if they do that. The US Marine Corps has taken fearsome casualties clearing some of the islands we've freed up so far."

"There's not so many of them here," Doc said. "We have been told, eighty in atu'Palunaan, sixty-one in atu'Tapunaan. There are also four coastal look-outs, one at each corner of the island, twelve men in each plus an officer each end makes fifty. We ought to be able to stop them scattering over the countryside."

"Sorry, those names?"

"Oh, eighty in Palunaan, sixty-one in Tapunaan, fifty scattered round the coast. Heh, we've been whittling them down ourselves. There were more."

Brian considered, then nodded. "Okay, let me get a message off to base with what you've told me and then we wait for instructions."

"I'll have to take you out into the jungle a distance," Doc warned. "We don't know if they have direction finding equipment anywhere on the island."

"No problem. Then I can come back and start enjoying a bit of village life. I'd like to hear a bit more of Miss er, Chisholm's tale if I may."

~o~O~o~

The coastal look-out posts had been eliminated. Most of the men in them had been distracted by the light show from the battles taking place on nearby islands, but it made little difference to the experienced hunters who had crept up in the darkest hours of night. Now, groups of armed tribesmen watched all escape routes out of the two port villages in the dawn light. As Brian had predicted, most of the villagers had been allowed to scatter when the first air attacks had hit the tiny ports, apart from a few who had thrown their lot in with the occupiers.

"You sure you can hold that thing?" Brian asked Melanie.

She tried to position the heavy rifle more comfortably as they lay side by side in the ground cover beside one of the main pathways. She knew that when the rifle fired she might not have full control of the resulting kick, never having used that particular weapon type before.

"Yes, I'm damned sure," she replied in a low voice. "I'll probably be black and blue by the time we're finished, but I have to do this. Those bastards killed my parents, I want a chance to get my own back."

Brian looked at the figure lying beside him. How did such a pretty girl get caught up in such a mess? He wondered what she'd look like if they ever found a way to get the dye off.

Crump, crump. The naval bombardment had started. After an hour and a half, launches could be seen leaving the grey shape visible offshore. Shortly afterwards, shouts could be heard from further down the path followed by shots. A line of green-uniformed soldiers could be seen half-running up the path in the distance. Those armed with rifles waited until the soldiers were so close they couldn't escape, then opened up after an initial shot by Joe, who was nominally in charge of the operation.

The soldiers who avoided getting shot immediately dived into the cover either side of the path, stunned by the unexpected ambush. However, this didn't help, as a second line of warriors fifty feet beyond the rifle wielders were waiting with blowpipe and spear. There was an occasional panic-stricken random shot from the bush, then all was quiet.

Warriors rose from cover all around, converging on the path. Some dispatched wounded soldiers with spears - and bayonets. Melanie stood, rubbing her shoulder.

"Ow, that hurt," She said. She was about to add, "Not like the rifles we had in basic training," but bit her tongue. As she approached Joe, the forest around her wavered, and then she began to feel nauseous. Joe grabbed her before she fell, holding her as she tried unsuccessfully to retch through her tears. The heat, the noise, the shock and the sudden violence had finally got to her. It had been a battle none of them had ever expected to take part in.

"There, there," he said, patting her on the back. Just this once she gave in and held him. At a time like this, she needed some support of a kind her new body demanded that the old body hadn't.

He added, "Shall we go down to atu'Palunaan and form a welcoming committee?"