"We'll get it back," Scotty said calmly. "No smart Ifugao is going to do us in the eye, chum. Not without a fight. We'll find Tony and we'll find the scanner. Then we'll clobber pal Nangolat—or let Angel do it—and get to work."
"What do we do with Nast?"
"We get nasty with Nast."
Rick groaned. "That pun, pal, is strictly cornball."
"I've always wanted to be a pun pal," Scotty said.
Far ahead, green shelves gave a regular pattern to the base of one mountain. Rick pointed them out to Angel. "What's that?"
"Igorot rice terraces."
"Igorot? I thought the rice terraces were Ifugao."
"The Igorots have them, too. They are not so—I don't have the word for it. Big, make one open the eyes in wonder, very fine. The kind of thing that makes you feel surprise here." Angel put his hand on his stomach.
"Breath-taking?" Scotty suggested. "Spectacular?"