Luana by Alan Dean Foster Read Free Book Online Page A

another guy. I’d have plenty of guys with me. It’s just no place for an intelligent person.”
    “But you’ve been there, or at least close to there.”
    “Yeah,” he admitted, sitting back again, “but I said an intelligent person. We’ve already agreed that I’m operating with a loose bolt. Your obvious sanity is not open to debate. I’m not going.”
    “Mr. Barrett,” she continued quietly, “if it is even remotely possible, my father’s work must be saved.”
    “Sorry, I’m not going. How about another drink?”
    “It’s for the good of all mankind.”
    Barrett laughed at that one. She started to cry, then. He let her do that, speaking only to order another Zombie, and a second decapitated one for her. Eventually she tired and tried another approach.
    “I’ll . . . I’ll be your friend,” she whispered, emphasizing the last word. Her hand moved under the table. He let it move for awhile, enjoying it, then said slowly, punctuating every word:
    “I wouldn’t risk my neck in that green hell again for the best lay in the world.”
    She sat back then and looked grim.
    “If you’ll take me in there I’ll pay you $50,000 plus all expenses, and $50,000 more if we find the plane.”
    Barrett spoke slowly, punctuating every word. “For $50,000, I’ll risk my neck in that green hell.” He paused. “Say, do you think you could keep on doing what you were doing a moment ago? You’re a bit unsure of yourself, but for a novice your touch is—”
    The diluted Zombie arrived just in time for her to toss it in his face. He wiped it away with both hands and a sleeve, and blinked back at her. She rose calmly, tucking her blouse into the band of her skirt.
    “I’m staying at the Royal East African, room 402. I’d like to leave as soon as possible. When you’ve completed arrangements with your outfitter, let me know. I’ll want to inspect the bill first. Good day.”
    Jumapili appeared at the curtain just as she stalked out.
    “Meester Barrett, sir!” he exclaimed, noticing the drenched condition of Barrett’s shirt, not to mention his damp face. “What happened?”
    For once, Barrett was honestly contrite.
    “I said an impolite thing, Sam, and the young lady gave me her drink.”
    Inwardly, though, he was pleased. At least she’d shown some spirit. Some day she might find herself with a cobra a scant few meters away from her foot. That would be the time for spirit, not panic. Nor had she been afraid that her action might jeopardize Barrett’s decision. Clearly she now regarded him as a bought man.
    Well, hell, she was right. He dabbed at the sticky liquid running down his front. Pity he couldn’t drink his shirt. If a man could wear his liquor, now—
    The dark hulk in the booth next to his shifted his chair silently and leaned over his own drink. He was also pleased. How fortunate he’d kept a close track on the rich American lady! He let Barrett finish his drinking and leave first. Then he paid his own bill and departed quietly.
    “The master’s on the porch,” the servant informed Kobenene. He followed the handsome maid around the veranda of the fine house. Albright was there, all right, seated at a desk on the back porch. He didn’t look up when the big hulk arrived. He knew his partner by his walk.
    “Ah, Kobenene, sit down, sit down. I’ll be with you in just a moment. Some last work on this equation here—”
    Kobenene lowered his great body into a wicker chair that bulged under him, and he smiled slightly. Equations. He knew exactly how much of a scientist Albright was. How little, rather. Perhaps the man had gone into the field because he looked the part.
    Tall, thoroughly distinguished, full beard and Russian Cossack moustache. He had a deep, warm voice, eminently suitable for lecturing profoundly, and thick hairy brows that could draw together to convey a feeling of concern over matters of deepest cogitation.
    Only one thing was missing. Albright had never had an original