Island of the Sequined Love Nun

did not engage the autopilot, but steered the Lear gradually, perhaps a degree a minute, to the west.
    "So what did you think?"
    "Pretty impressive, but I don't get it. Why the whole show to bring in someone for surgery? Why not just send the guards?"
    "We're not taking their kidneys, Tucker. They're giving them."
    Tuck didn't want to give away what he had learned from Malink and Sepie about the "chosen." He said, "Giving them to who? A naked white woman?"
    She laughed, reached into her briefcase, and brought out an eight-by-ten color photograph. "To the Sky Priestess." She held the photograph where Tuck could see it. He had to steer manually. If he hit the autopilot now, the plane would turn back toward Japan, the only preset in the nav computer. The photograph was in color but old. A flyer stood by the side of a B-26 bomber. On the side of the bomber was the painting of a voluptuous naked woman and the legend SKY PRIESTESS. It could have been a painting of Beth Curtis as she had looked when she arrived at Tuck's bungalow. He recognized the flyer as well. It was the ghost flyer he'd been seeing all along. He felt his face flush, but he tried to stay cool. "So who's that?"
    "The flyer was a guy named Vincent Bennidetti," Beth said. "The plane was named the Sky Priestess. All the bombers had nose art like that in World War II. We found the picture in the library in San Francisco."
    "So what's that got to do with our operation? You're dressing up like the picture on an airplane."
    "No, I am the Sky Priestess."
    "I'm sorry, Beth. I still don't get it."
    "This is the pilot that the Shark People worship. The cargo cult that 'Bastian told you about."
    Tuck nodded and tried to look surprised, but he was watching his course without seeming to do so. If he had figured it right, they would be over Guam in fifteen minutes and the American military would force them down. The Air Force was very cranky about private jets flying though their airspace.
    "The natives on Alualu worship this Vincent guy," Beth said. "I speak for Vincent. They come to me when we play the music and I give them everything. In return, I choose one of them for the honor of the mark of Vincent, which, of course, is the scar they get from the operation."
    "Like I said, you've got armed guards. Why not just take what you want?"
    She looked shocked that he would ask. "And get out of show business?" Then she smiled and reached over and gave his crotch a squeeze.
    "When I met Sebastian in San Francisco, he was drunk and throwing money around. One minute he was so dignified and erudite, the next he was like a little naive child. He told me about the cargo cult and I came up with the idea of not just doing this to support the clinic, but to get really filthy rich. We had to keep the people happy if we were going to do this in big numbers."
    "So you thought all of this up?"
    "It's the reason I'm here."
    "But Sebastian said you were a"-Tuck caught himself before he said "stripper"-"surgical nurse."
    "I was. So what? Did I get any respect for that? Did I get any power? No. To the doctors I was just a piece of ass who could handle surgical instruments and close a patient when they needed to get to the golf course. Did Sebastian tell you I used to strip?"
    "He mentioned something about it in passing."
    "Well, I did. And I was good."
    "I can imagine," Tuck said. A few more minutes and they should be joined by an F-16.
    She smiled. "Fuck nursing. I was just a piece of meat to the men I worked with, so I decided to go with it. I was pushing thirty and all single women my age were walking around with a desperate look in their eye and a biological clock ticking so loud you thought it was the crocodile from Peter Pan. If I was going to be treated like meat, I was going to make money at it. And I did. Not enough, but a lot more than I would have made nursing."
    "Do tell," Tuck said. He couldn't remember ever saying "Do tell," and it sounded a little strange hearing it.
    She looked out the window as if she had fallen into some reverie. Then, without looking back, she said, "What's that island?"
    Tuck tensed. "I couldn't say."
    She sighed. "Islands are amazing."
    "I always say that."
    She seemed to come out of her trance and looked at the instrument board. Tuck acted as if he was concentrating on flying the plane. He glanced at Beth Curtis. Her mouth had tightened into a line.
    She reached into the briefcase and came out with the Walther automatic.
    "What's that for?" Tuck