“Well, the latest outbreaks of Malta Fever are different than before S.M.U.T. began spreading it deliberately. Now there are two new factors. One is a symptom. S.M.U.T.-induced victims of Malta Fever are now also sexually stimulated by the disease. This germ culture your Dr. Palaro developed must also have some aphrodisiac qualities. The second factor is that female victims have become much more fertile and the males with Malta Fever are producing much more live sperm.”
“It all fits in, doesn’t it?” Leslie said. “All except who the real power behind S.M.U.T. is. I guess we’ll just have to go on guessing about that.”
“I guess so,” Mavis agreed, leading the way as they drifted into the house.
I guessed so, too. With the verandah empty now, I stayed in the bushes for a few moments as my mind tried to sort out all I’d heard. There seemed no doubt that I’d stumbled onto S.M.U.T.’s headquarters. There seemed no doubt that the head of the organization was somewhere in the house before me. But who was it?
Was it the bearded, diabolical-looking Hanson? Was it Bruce, the handsome Negro? Was it the hunchbacked Cronin? Was it Dr. Palaro, the he-she? Or was it none of them?
True, the girls had seemed sure that the head of S.M.U.T. was one of the four. But they could be mistaken. The top dog might not even be on the premises at all.
There was no way I could settle that right now. And it didn’t look like there was going to be much opportunity for further eavesdropping. I decided that the most useful thing I could do at the moment would be to case the rest of this plantation, or whatever it was, and see what else I might be able to learn about the workings of S.M.U.T.
Quietly, I headed away from the house and made for a small hillock I’d spotted. From this bit of raised ground, I had a pretty good view of my surroundings. The early morning moon cooperated by slipping out from behind the clouds and illuminating the terrain.
The house was behind me. Off to my left the moon rays glinted off the roof of the large shed Jana and I had been hung up in before. I saw now that there were several smaller storehouses surrounding it. In front of me a grove of trees—rubber trees, I guessed—stretched out to the road. It wasn’t much of a road, just a single car-wide dirt line stretching into the distance with what looked like thick jungle on the other side of it.
It was the view to my right which I found particularly interesting. There was a long, low building there that was different from the other structures around. It looked new and modern and was shaped like an L. At one end of the long part there was a series of fences like those which might set off animal pens with each one leading into a larger area than the one preceding it. The smallest of these pens narrowed to a ramp leading into the building itself. I could make out a door on the side of the building which closed off the ramp. At the bottom of the L, the roof had sprouted a series of pipes. They looked like small chimneys, and I guessed that each must serve as an exhaust outlet for some sort of apparatus to which it was connected. It crossed my mind that if Dr. Palaro had a laboratory, this might be it.
If it was, I very much wanted to have a look at it. I scrambled down the hillock and started for the L-shaped building. It was farther away than it had seemed, and it was some ten minutes before I came to a stop in the under-brush fringing the pens at the top end of the L. There was a guard dozing outside the door shutting off the ramp. He held a carbine across his knees.
I circled the structure, studying it. There were other guards spaced around the entire perimeter. None of them were sleeping. There were more of them, and they were particularly alert, where the pipes were sprouting from the building. I completed the circle and was back at the top of the L once again.
I considered the sleeping guard. Was that large door behind him locked? Was he sleeping soundly enough for me to sneak past him and find out? The only way to find out was to try it. So I tried it.
Taking off my shoes and leaving them in the bushes behind me, I tiptoed up to him. I kept a tight grip on my shirt-tails so no casual breeze would stir them. I was afraid they might suddenly flap and wake him up. My rear end felt cold where my knuckles grazed it. I wished Torres’ men had at least left me my underpants. The night was turning chillier, and my exposed parts would be one helluva place to catch a cold.
The guard stirred as I drew abreast of him, and my health worries went out of my mind. He was sprawled right across the ramp, and the only way to reach the door was to jump over him. I couldn’t simply step over him; the way the gun was sticking up at an angle made it impossible. I could easily have bushwhacked him, of course, but I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t know when the guards might be changed, or checked up on, and I didn’t want to risk alerting the others to my presence inside.
So I backed off and hurdled the sentry. The boards of the ramp gave a loud creak as I landed. I crouched there a moment to see if the guard had been awakened. He stirred and patted his carbine, but his eyes didn’t open. I straightened up and turned away from him to the door.
It was a large, high door, made of aluminum. There was a handle at the bottom of it which told me that it was the kind of door which had to be raised and lowered. I pulled at the handle gently—then harder. It was no use. It was securely locked.
I was about to give up and re-hurdle the guard when I noticed something else about the door. On the right side, at the very bottom, there was sort of a flap about three feet wide and four feet high. It was the kind of flap you see on the doors of suburban homes, the sort of arrangement that allows the family dog to get in and out without bothering anybody. But when I examined it, I saw that this one was designed so that it was an entrance from the ramp into the building, but not an exit from the building to the ramp because of a frame on the outside which overlapped the metal of the door itself.
Pushing against it, I could feel a spring give slightly. But it only gave enough to open the flap about a quarter of an inch. There was some sort of bolt on the other side that kept it from being pushed in any farther. I managed to get my pinky in far enough to feel the bolt, but the finger wasn’t long enough to manipulate it. I needed something long and thin like a coat-hanger to jimmy the lock.
I had nothing like that, but the sleeping guard did. There was a long, thin strip of metal running down the center of each of the suspenders holding up his pants. It was just the springy kind of thing I needed.
I crawled over to him and edged my hand slowly between where he was holding the rifle and the waistband of his pants. He stirred in his sleep as I undid the button holding the suspender there. The carbine wasn’t in the way of the other front button, and I thought it would be easier to undo. Perversely, he proved me wrong. He stirred again as I fumbled with it and my knuckles grazed his belly.
“Not again, Luana,” he groaned in his sleep. “I’m too tired.” His hand patted mine wearily, and then held it loosely.
It’s not that I’m particular, but he wasn’t my type. Not for hand-holding—-or anything else, for that matter. Sol squeezed his hand once and removed mine from it.
“That's a good girl,” he sighed again. “Go to sleep. There’ll be plenty of time in the morning.”
I quickly unbuttoned the second suspender and reached behind him to get at the back button. The first one in back was no problem the way he was curled up. But the suspenders were joined, and I had to get that last button to get them off altogether. That one was underneath him, with his weight full on it.
I reached under him boldly.
“No! I said no, Luana,” he responded. He was still half-asleep, but there was more annoyance in his voice now and I was afraid that being annoyed might wake him up.
I undid the button quickly and pulled the suspenders out from under him. He jerked away, and I was afraid I really had waked him up. I Waited a full minute beside him without stirring until he began breathing heavily again and I was sure he was asleep. Only then did I back off until I felt the door against my haunches.