”Oh?”
”One of ’em’s that Welshman you tangled with.”
”Kynan? The guy from Orleans?”
”The same. He and his longbow have gone missing.”
A chill chased down Kit’s back. “Go on.”
”Frankly, I was afraid of foul play until I noticed who else is missing. Remember that big Afrikaner who came in a few years back when South Africa went to hell?”
”Yeah, I remember him.” South Africa had suffered desperate damage from earthquakes, tidal waves, even volcanic eruptions in the aftermath of The Accident. The government had collapsed and thousands of people had fled the ensuing riots, massacres, starvation, and rampant plagues. “Koot van something,” Kit said “Big guy about my age, if I remember right, maybe a little younger.”
”Koot van Beek. Took up time guiding. Drifts from station to station, wherever there’s work.”
”So he’s back?”
”Back and missing.”
Kit gazed at the map on his video screens and tried to figure out why a freelance drifter like Koot van Beek, a displaced Welsh bowman, and Margo would have hooked up in connection with a gate that led to sixteenth century Mozambique.
”Thanks, Bull. That’s very interesting news. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything solid.”
Kit pulled out the itemized library bill and studied Margo’s recent research. Lift capacity and fuel consumption for a helium-filled ultralight-but with variable equations for hydrogen as an alternative lifting source. Endemic diseases of southern Africa and recommended inoculations or medical treatments where no inoculations were available. Geographical charts of Mozambique, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Botswana. Even-he grimaced-recommended medications to suppress menstrual flow.