Fort Pilar was a tremendous mass of hand-cut stone many feet thick, pierced for muskets and cannon. It was obviously Spanish in design, and very old. The walls were covered with creepers, and palms had sprung up on what had once been a parade ground. Visible beyond the fort were the clear waters of Basilan Strait.
A sentry took them to Captain Diosdado Lim, who greeted them courteously and scanned the letter they had brought from Colonel Rojas.
"We are at your service," the captain said formally. "This letter makes you more than guests. You are also friends. I welcome you."
"Thank you, Captain," Zircon replied with equal formality. "You knew of our coming from Major Lacson?"
"Yes. We are prepared. We will send your car back and you will ride into town with me. I will introduce you to the man from whom the boat was hired."
"Any news of the boat?" Rick asked hopefully.
"Not yet. The seas are big and our outposts are few. But we will hope for good fortune."
The captain had a stilted way of speaking, Rick noted. His English was good, but he obviously didn't speak it often. The officer was young and dark, and looked more Chinese than Filipino. He was probably a mestizo, a person of mixed blood.
Zircon launched into questions as soon as they got underway in the captain's sedan. It was soon clear that the officer had little to add to what they already knew. He did say, however, that Azid Hajullah, the Moro guide, had not been a local young man, and that the detachment on Tawi Tawi did not know him. No one, apparently, knew where the guide had come from. It sounded suspicious to Rick. He might have been a plant, to betray the scientists to the unknown kidnapers.
Captain Lim took them to the boatyard operated by José Santos, a fat little Filipino who had once served in the United States Navy. Santos was friendly, and very sad about the scientists. Rick felt he honestly was more disturbed about the two men than about his missing boat.