Virtual Palau
An interactive, multimedia digital cybertour.

You round a corner and fling youself into the mangrove swamp.  You hit the water with a splash and scramble under a maze of twisting tree roots until you are completely hidden from view.  The police are fooled and continue heading up into Topside, still on the hunt.

Just as you start congratulating yourself on your ingenuity, you hear a harumph from behind you.  You turn around only to come face-to-snout with a huge, leathery crocodile. 

The owner of the Palau Crocodile Preserves, a tourist attraction in some guy's backyard just south of the K-B Bridge, had been meaning to fence in the newest crocodile pen he'd dug, so that people wouldn't accidentally fall in, but he hadn't gotten around to it yet.  Although the crocodiles usually only get fed once a week, Lucy, one of the oldest and crankiest ones, got an extra snack today.  She also enjoyed Continental Micronesia's almonds.

You are dead.  Your soul flies down to Angaur, washes the residue of earthly life off itself, and shoots up to the heavens.