In the Orient by Art Collins Page A

the Monkey Clone’s eyes. Looking at May, he said, “When you enter the Monkey Clone’s den, you’ll need to make sure you’re standing to Willow’s left. That way there’s no chance of your flying dart hitting her arrow in midair.”
    “Right,” May answered patiently. Then, nodding her head toward the turnstile that led to the ferry’s gangway, she quickly added, “And if we don’t board straight away, it won’t matter where I’m standing because we’ll miss our ferry!”
    Gently nudging her boyfriend forward, Willow quickly finished the conversation by saying, “And, my dear Archibald, missing the ferry is definitely not in your game plan!”
Return to Lantau Peak
    As soon as they’d boarded, May suggested that they quickly make their way forward to the bow of the ship. Since the passengers’ lounge was not air-conditioned, she had correctly concluded that the breeze would make seats near the bow the coolest spot on the ship once the ferry was underway.
    During the hour-long ride to Lantau Island, Archibald again meticulously reviewed each element of the plan they had discussed with Wu Feng the night before. He then listed some of what he thought mightconceivably go wrong. Finally, he covered their options in case the unexpected did happen.
    By the time Lantau Peak came into view, Archibald was sure that everyone knew exactly what to do and when to do it. Since there was no room for error, now all they had to do was to just execute the plan perfectly. However, the carefully constructed plan was almost scuttled the moment Willow walked past a policeman standing at the end of the gangway at the Lantau Island pier.
    Seeing the crossbow in one of her hands, and two deadly looking arrows in the other, the officer put up his hand and told Willow to stop. It was only after ten minutes of intense questioning, which at times included May’s helpful intervention, that the officer finally came to believe that the young American tourist was a member of the U.S. Olympic archery team, and that she never went anywhere without her trusted crossbow. Unfortunately, during that time, the bus to the Lantau Peak trailhead came and went.
    Rather than wait for another bus to arrive, May hailed a taxi, a very old taxi that didn’t have air-conditioning. Even though Willow was sweating profusely and Archibald’s T-shirt was soaked clear through, by the time they reached the base of Lantau Peak, May looked as fresh as the potted orchid that sat on her dining room table.
    The sun was unrelenting as they began to climb the stone steps that wound up the mountainside. In the lead, Archibald extended his hand from the bill of his baseball cap to shade his eyes. As he looked straight up and thenscanned the horizon, disappointment immediately registered on his face. Not a trace of white could be seen anywhere in the light blue sky, and it seem to be getting hotter and more oppressive with each passing minute.
    Turning back, he gave May and Willow his assessment, saying, “The good news is that we shouldn’t have any problems finding our white markers with all this sunlight, but the bad news is that we’re going to feel like boiled lobsters by the time we finally get to that opening in the mountain.”
    The heat and humidity must have dissuaded many of the weekend hikers from making the trip. The stone steps were much less crowded than the day before, and fewer and fewer people could be seen the farther they climbed.
    Every fifteen minutes or so, Archibald stopped so they could rest and pass May’s water bottle. By the second stop, the water was almost as hot as the ambient temperature. Watching Archibald grimace after taking a gulp, May offered a bit of advice.
    “Just think of it as tasteless soup,” she began. “Or, if your imagination is really good, you can substitute in egg drop soup, just without the egg drops.”
    Taking another swig, Archibald snorted and replied, “Still tastes like hot water to me.” Then he looked