Philip Kerr - Esau

Inside the tent in the ice corridor Cody, Swift, Jameson, Jutta, Mac and Tsering faced each other grimly. They had all heard the loud roars that had accompanied Jack’s own yells of fright and pain in the seconds before his radio had stopped working. Swift was still trying to reestablish communications.

‘Jack, come in please. Are you all right?’

‘One of the yetis must have charged him,’ said Cody, stroking his long beard agitatedly.

‘That’s what it sounded like,’ affirmed Mac.

‘Probably bowled him over.’

‘Can you hear me?’

Swift released the talk button and waited a moment, but there was just static and the wind outside. She tossed the radio aside and hid her face with the palms of her hands as she tried to control her first instinct, which was to let out a loud wail of despair.

‘I got nailed by a mountain gorilla once myself,’ said Cody. ‘It was my own fault. I violated normal gorilla protocol. This was in Kigezi Gorilla Sanctuary. A big silverback, a four-hundred-pounder, broke my collarbone and damn near bit through my femoral artery. I’ve still got the scars. There’s one—’

‘Look,’ said Swift, interrupting him. ‘What are we going to do about Jack?’

‘I’d say that one of us is going to have to go and get him,’ said Mac.

‘Yes, but which one?’ said Swift.

‘Well, obviously it can’t be you, darlin’. This is no job for a woman.’

Instinctively Swift started to argue her own candidacy and then realized that she was probably the least qualified of any of them.

‘Unless the woman also happens to be a doctor and a mountaineer,’ said Jutta. ‘I can see no one better suited to this job than me.’

‘Suppose you have to carry him,’ objected Mac. ‘Could you carry him?’

‘Whoever goes should know the correct way to approach large primates,’ said Cody.

‘You’ve got frostbite,’ said Jutta. ‘It can’t be you. That much is certain.’

‘Who said only one person can go?’ said Jameson. ‘Why not two? With the Bell stretcher. Two makes more sense, surely?’

‘There’s only one environment suit up here,’ said Mac. ‘In a couple of hours it will be dark, and it’s going to get very cold in that crevasse. Without a suit, it’s doubtful anyone would make it.’

‘Mac’s right,’ said Jutta. ‘Only one person can go.’

‘And that’s me,’ added the Scotsman.

‘You?’ said Jutta. ‘You’re smaller than me.’

‘Smaller but stronger.’

‘Aren’t you confusing strength with aggression?’ said the German. ‘I’m as strong as you and a superior mountaineer. If his injuries are as bad as Byron’s were, he’ll need proper medical attention. Perhaps urgently. There’s no telling how long he will last without it.’

‘Assuming his suit’s not damaged, he might last the night,’ said Mac.

‘After those sound effects?’ said Cody. ‘That’s a pretty big assumption considering his radio no longer works. It sounded like he got hit by the whole front line of the Forty-niners. Including Joe Montana.’

There were shouts outside the tent as another group of Sherpas arrived from ABC bearing more stores and equipment. They were led by the sirdar. He bent down and squeezed into the tent, still steaming from his exertions. The sky looked grey and it had started to snow again.

Jameson told him what had happened to Jack.

The sirdar listened carefully and without emotion. He thought for a moment, nodded and then said, ‘ Me jaanchhu , Jameson sahib. I want to go get him. Jack sahib is Hurké Gurung’s friend and one time, two maybe three years ago, him save Hurké’s life. So please, sahib, there can be no argument about who is to go and bring help to him. If the situation was other way, it would be Jack sahib who come and get me. That is how it is. Also, this is my country and I have been closer to yeti than any person here. Also I am best mountaineer. Even know some first aid. No question about it. I am going. Bujhina? As soon as I have drunk cha and put on these special clothes that will make me look like a spaceman, I will go and fetch my friend Jack sahib.’

The sirdar’s strong, unsmiling face held such an expression of grim determination that there was no one who felt able to challenge his claim to the rescue mission. Jameson exchanged a look with Swift who nodded back at him.

‘Okay,’ Jameson told the sirdar. ‘Job’s yours.’

‘Hajur. Pugna kati samay laagcha?’

‘We think it should take you about three hours at the most. It’s a more or less straight route along the shelf inside the crevasse.’

Hurké glanced at his Casio sports watch and then outside the tent. The weather had deteriorated even in the few minutes since he and the Sherpas had come up from the Rognon.

‘Be dark by then. And there is maybe bad weather to come. As soon as I am in crevasse, rest of team should go back down to Camp One. Not stay here.’

‘He’s right,’ said Mac. ‘I’d better go and organize the men.’

‘Mac sahib. Before you go. Mero tasbir khichnukos? Laai ke bhaanchha?’ He shrugged apologetically. ‘Could you take my picture please?’

‘Sure,’ said Mac, and lifting the Nikon that was nearby always hanging on a strap around his neck, he quickly took the sirdar’s portrait.

‘Thank you, sahib. It is for wife and son. In case anything happens to make problems. You would see that they get it, yes?’

‘Of course. But don’t be bloody silly. Nothing is going to happen to you.’

‘Yes, sahib.’

‘I’ll go and fetch that suit for you,’ said Swift and followed Mac outside.

Jameson went to find Ang Tsering.

‘The gear the sirdar and the men just brought up,’ he asked. ‘Where is it?’

Tsering pointed to several sixty-pound loads that were still roped up for carrying.

‘But we must go back down. The sirdar has said so.’

Jameson examined one of the loads and then another. He seemed to find what he was looking for and clapped his hands together purposefully.

‘Yes, yes. But before we leave, there’s something I want to organize first.’

‘And what is that, sahib?’

‘A surprise.’ Jameson looked excited. ‘Can’t understand why I didn’t think of this before. Seems the perfectly logical thing to do, really. But there we are. You can’t always be omniscient. Tell me, Tsering, do you know how to fix an ice screw, or a dead man anchor?’

Tsering shook his head. ‘I regret no, sahib.’

‘Never mind. I’ll show you.’

‘This dead man anchor? Is it for Jack’s friend, Didier sahib? Is this the surprise?’

‘Christ no. It’s to keep the surprise secure.’

Bryan Perrins had asked Chaz Mustilli to come to his office. Mustilli was in charge of assigning field personnel and had recommended CASTORP for the job in the Himalayas. Like Perrins, Mustilli had also formed the conclusion that the Chinese soldiers had been murdered by CASTORP. Mustilli was a thickset man, with a Kojak head and an expensive-looking pipe he sucked often but only ever smoked in his own office. As he handed the DDI a file on CASTORP and sat down, he looked uncomfortable, even depressed.

Perrins noted Mustilli’s expression and assumed the worst. But he let him go ahead with his explanation.

‘I did what you asked, Bryan. I started to look into CASTORp’s background. And it would seem that we, um, somehow overlooked his most recent psychological profile. Unfortunately the person who did the evaluation went sick soon after it was done and, well, the long and the short of it is that we just didn’t know about it when we recommended CASTORP for this mission. The report has only just turned up. I mean he seemed to be perfectly well qualified. Of course, if we had known what we now know then, we’d probably have recommended someone else.’