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"I sometimes have the feeling that you're not really who you seem to be at all," she said, taking a gold cigarette case out of her purse. "It's almost as it you're playing a role."

With playful mockery, she took two cigarettes from the case and stuck them both between her lips, then handed him her Dunhill lighter. Hunter grinned and lit the cigarettes for her. She took a drag or two to get them going, then took one from her mouth and reached forward to place it between his lips. If she had done so seriously, it would have been extremely

comical, but with her slightly exaggerated humour playing on the role reversal, she somehow made it very sexy.

He took a deep drag on the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. "Everyone plays roles," he said. "Mine just happens to be a bit more subtle than most people's. I don't really believe in going around baring your breast to everyone you meet, that's all. People who do that are insecure."

“You're definitely not insecure," she said, smiling. “Most men would go to a great deal of trouble to impress a woman. But you're not like that. You seem very comfortable with yourself. No need to prove a thing."

Hunter shrugged. "It takes too damn much energy to run around always trying to prove things to yourself and other people. I haven't really got anything to prove.

But maybe that's because I don't have much imagination. I'm just an ordinary guy."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't say that at all. You're the most elusive man I've ever met. You really don't reveal very much at all, do you?"

"Well, I thought they said that a little mystery was supposed to add a bit of spice to a relationship."

"Is that what we're doing?" she said, arching her eyebrows.

"Having a relationship?".

"I don't really know," said Hunter, loosening his collar slightly. It was getting warm. "What are we doing? You invite me up here, cook me a world class meal and ply me with vintage wine in an atmosphere of mellow, romantic jazz, soft lighting, a dazzling view-both through the window and the tabletop.." he grinned.

"One would almost think that you were setting a trap for me. "

She smiled. "You're absolutely right. I confess. It is a trap." "Ha! I knew it all the time! The wine was drugged!"

She pursed her lips and watched him over the rim of her wineglass. "No, not the wine," she said, softly.

He suddenly felt dizzy as he stared at her, his vision blurred. She took her cigarette, which after the initial puff to get it going, she hadn't smoked at all, and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

The cigarettes!

He lurched to his feet and the room started to spin. She got up quickly and backed away. He grabbed the table for support and abruptly lost his balance, bringing the glass-topped table crashing to the floor.

It shattered and he fell in a spray of glass. He heard a door open and footsteps come across the floor. He tried, but he could not make out their faces as they stood over him. He couldn't move. One of them bent down and pulled up his sleeve.

"That's it," someone said.

He felt the warp disc being removed and then everything went black.

Chapter 6,

"There's nothing there," said Steiger, bending over the charts and studying them closely.

"Or. Gulliver, are you sure that was the correct position?" said Delaney, glancing over his shoulder at Gulliver, who stood behind them, looking down at the charts spread out on the table.

"I'm absolutely certain of it," Gulliver said. "I've sailed as a ship's surgeon long enough to know my navigation, gentlemen. I took a reading with my sextant on the day of my escape. Longitude 110 degrees, 4 minutes east; latitude 30 degrees, 2 minutes south. "

"That would put it approximately 200 miles to the north-west of Perth, Australia," said Steiger… And there's nothing there."

"Quite so," said Gulliver. "I have already told you that the island does not appear on any charts. "

"If that was the case only with the charts available in this time period, " said Steiger, tossing aside the charts that Gulliver had obtained for them, "then that would be understandable. However, ~ he tapped the modem maps spread out before him on the table, "it doesn't appear on any of our charts, either, and that's impossible. You must have made a mistake in calculating the position.".

"I don't mean to argue with you, Colonel," Gulliver replied, "but had that been the case, then I would certainly have noticed it when I escaped, for I would have found myself off course. However, the course I had plotted turned out to be correct, which meant that my original reading had to be correct, as well.

Lilliput Island lies exactly there." He stabbed his forefinger down at the map on a spot that showed nothing but open sea.

Steiger glanced up at Delaney and shook his head. "There's nothing there, Finn."

"Well, there's only one way to find out for sure," Delaney said.

"Wait a minute," Andre said, grabbing his ann. "You're not seriously suggesting clocking out there blind? What if Gulliver’s wrong?”

"We'll wind up very wet," said Steiger. "And those are shark-infested waters."

"Look, I may be a little reckless sometimes," said Delaney, "but I'm not crazy. I'm suggesting that a couple of us clock ahead to base and pick up some floater paks so we can do an air reconnaissance. We can fly a search pattern within a fifty mile radius of Gulliver's co-ordinates, or a hundred mile radius if that's what it takes, — but we're obviously not going to get anywhere sitting around here and arguing about what is or isn't on the map. We're simply going to have 10 go out there and look."

Gulliver cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Captain. "Yes?"

"Did… did I hear correctly? Did you just say that you were going to… to fly?"

"Don't worry, Lem," Delaney said, "no one's going to make you fly. Besides, it takes a bit of training to learn how to use a floater pak. You'll be staying here with Andre and Lucas while Creed and I clock out and fly our search pattern. And if we find your island, we'll come back for the rest of you and see if there are any little people on it."

"Six-inch commandos," Lucas said, shaking his head. “Incredible. If I didn't know better, I'd say we'd run into a bizarre new generation of Drakov's hominoids."

"You know General Drakov?" Gulliver said.

They all spun around and stared at him with amazement. "What did you say?" said Andre.

"General Nikolai Drakov," Gulliver said. "He is the leader of The Lilliput Legion."

"But that's impossible!" Delaney said. "Drakov is dead!"

"Yes, that's right," said Andre, slowly. "And so was Lucas."

Nikolai Drakov stood in Central Park with his hands in the pockets of his elegant, dark wool velour topcoat. A cool autumn breeze ruffled his thick, wavy black hair as he watched a young mother and her small boy from a distance as they fed the ducks with bread crumbs. The dark-haired boy bore a startling resemblance to

Drakov. In fact, he was Nikolai Drakov, or more precisely, a clone being raised under controlled conditions and carefully monitored from time to time by his creator/father.

This was the end result of Drakov's experiments with the hominoids, a subspecies of genetically engineered, human-based lifeforms that were first created under the auspices of Project Infiltrator, headed by Dr. Moreau and funded by the Special