The China Sea passage was made without incident. We started at three A.M. in a downpour of rain, and by six, at dawn, the low outline of the Malay Peninsula came into sight. We made our landfall some forty miles north of Singapore, and at once cut across country toward Johore Bahru and the great British crown colony.
The rice paddies, roads and other signs of civilization were a welcome sight, and I was already relaxing, mentally, in a hot tub at the officers club when the awakening came. It came in the form of a squadron of fighter planes carrying British markings which roared out of the south without warning and passed Kazu's head with all their guns firing. Fortunately neither his eyes nor our thin shelled box was hit, but Kazu felt the tiny projectiles which penetrated even his twelve inch hide. As the planes wheeled for another pass he called out in English that he was a friend, but of course the pilots could not hear above the roar of their jets. On the second try two of the planes released rockets, which fortunately missed, but this put a different light on the whole thing. A direct hit with a ten inch rocket would be as dangerous as a torpedo. Baker tried to yell some advice, but there was no chance before the planes came in again. This time Kazu waved, and finally threw a handful of earth and trees at them. The whole squadron zoomed upwards like a covey of startled birds.
By the time we had reached a temporary haven, Kazu was thoroughly winded, and we were battered nearly insensible. Baker, in fact, was out cold. Kazu slowed down, and then finding no directions or advice forthcoming, he resumed a steady dogtrot to the north. Martin and I tried to draw Baker to a safer position beside the projector, but in the process one of the steel shelves collapsed, adding Martin to the casualty list. Walt and I then attempted to drag the two of them to safety, but in the midst of these efforts a particularly hard lurch sent me headfirst into the projector, and my interest in proceedings thereupon became nil. Walt, battered and seasick, gave up and collapsed with the rest of us. Further efforts at communication by Kazu proved fruitless. Buddha was on his own.
VI
I AWOKE with a throbbing headache to find the steel room motionless, and warm sunshine streaming into my face. Looking around, I saw that my three companions were all up and apparently in good shape. Baker was the first to notice that I was awake, and he came over immediately.
"Feel better?" he inquired cheerfully.
He helped me up and I staggered to the window. The room was perched, as usual, on a hilltop, but the vegetation around was not tropical jungle. I turned to the others, noting as I did that the room was cleaned up.
"Where—" I started, with a gesture outside. Baker stopped me and led me to an improvised canvas hammock.
"You really got a nasty one," he said. "You've been out two days."