Philip Kerr - Esau

‘We’ll have you back under the clamshell at ABC in no time,’ she said, zipping him into the bag. ‘You should be pleased. We got what we came for. We’ve captured a yeti.’

Jack smiled weakly.

‘That’s good news. I just hope it’s friendlier than the one I met earlier.’

‘It’s quite docile at the moment,’ she said, attaching him to the stretcher with a length of nylon tape to avoid putting any pressure on his injuries.

‘Good,’ said Jack. ‘Because I’m not up to any more wrestling today.’

This time the Allouette winched down a line. Expertly, Jutta secured herself and her patient to the cable.

A few minutes later she and Jack were flying down to Camp One.

Alone with the drugged yeti on top of the Rognon, Miles Jameson removed the dart from its shoulder and began to examine the creature in anticipation of giving it another shot. Almost two metres long, the yeti resembled an enormous furry rug he had spread out on the snow. Producing a stethoscope from the medical bag in his rucksack, Jameson began to search the creature’s enormous torso for a heartbeat. Satisfied with what he heard, he snatched the stethoscope from his ears and bent closer to the yeti’s head. It seemed to be breathing steadily, but Jameson had a laryngoscope to make sure that nothing had been regurgitated during the restraining procedure that might be aspirated. The animals he had treated in zoos were rare and expensive and he had learned not to take any chances. But none could have been rarer than the animal he was examining now.

The yeti’s swallowing reflexes were apparently unaffected by its experience. But the sun was shining brightly now, and with the yeti’s eyelids fixed open, there was a danger of corneal ulceration from prolonged exposure to the reflected light on the snow, so Jameson applied an ophthalmic ointment into its conjunctival sacs. As he finished this treatment, the yeti twitched convulsively, prompting Jameson to administer 0.25 milligrams of diazepam in a separate intravenous injection prior to redosing the creature with more Ketamine.

In the distance he heard the lawn mower-like sound of the helicopter coming back, and he stood up in anticipation. The yeti twitched again. It was not exactly a seizure, but still it made Jameson feel a little anxious. The diazepam ought to have lowered the animal’s threshold for any convulsive stimulation. He cursed out loud. This was the problem with using drugs on animals he had never even seen before. It went against every established veterinary practice. For a second his own heart flopped around in his chest and he found himself dropping quickly to his knees again as he noticed something else. Underneath the place where the yeti was lying, there was fresh blood in the snow.

Eclipsing the sun for one brief moment, the Allouette spiralled down onto the Rognon like a sycamore seed. One of the tent flaps tore open and flapped violently, a furious semaphore signifying nothing in the general maelstrom of air and snow. Except perhaps Jameson’s anxiety.

On the pilot’s signal, he ran toward the helicopter and Jutta, who was sitting on the metal floor beside the stretcher bearing Jack.

‘You’d better come and take a look,’ he yelled above the sound of the rotors. ‘There’s something wrong—’

‘What’s the problem?’

‘I’d say we have a pregnant yeti on our hands,’ said Jameson. ‘And worse, one that’s about to go into labour too. Ketamine hydrochloride isn’t supposed to cross the placenta. I mean I’ve never known it to produce abortion in pregnant animals before. But then I never used it on a yeti before.’

Jutta jumped down from the chopper and ran toward the yeti, ripping off her gloves. Noting the blood, she dropped to her knees beside it and quickly pressed her bare hands to the creature’s abdomen.

‘It could be her first,’ she said. ‘Which might be why you didn’t notice it earlier. But you’re right. Her womb is as tight as a drum. And if she is premature and her baby is delivered out here, it will die for sure.’

‘Then there’s no time to lose,’ he said, gathering up the net and securing all the four corners to one karabiner. ‘We have to get her back up to ABC right away.’

Flying back to ABC, Jameson and Jutta spoke to Byron Cody, still at Camp Two, on the radio.

‘What can you tell us about the primate birthing process?’ Jameson asked him.

‘You’re kidding.’

‘I wish I was. We’re worried that she’s going to miscarry.’

‘Jesus. Well, with experienced gorilla females it tends to be an overnight thing. They kind of know when it’s about to happen and go off and make a nest. I’ve only seen it happen once and that was in captivity. But when it does happen you can expect the actual birth to be quick. To be frank with you, it’s not a hell of a lot different from human beings. Standard forty weeks from the first day of the last normal menstrual period.’

‘I hope so,’ said Jutta.

‘I wish I were there,’ said Cody.

‘So do I. But as soon as we’ve taken the yeti off the chopper at ABC, Jutta thinks the chopper should fly on down to the American hospital in Khat. Jack’s not in the best of shape.’

Jack, who was still conscious inside the casualty bag and feeling a little more comfortable now, said, ‘No way am I going down to Khat. Not now that we’ve found this animal. This is what I’ve risked my neck for. And you want to dump me in Khat just when things are about to get really interesting? No way.’

‘You need to be in a hospital. Jack,’ protested Jutta. ‘With proper facilities. You could have some internal injuries.’

‘I’ll take my chances,’ insisted Jack. ‘If that yeti is about to give birth, you can’t afford not to have Cody at ABC with you. He’s the primate expert. Besides, I’m in better shape than I look. I’ll be all right in a few days. You see if I’m not right.’

Jutta exchanged a look with Miles Jameson.

‘I suppose that if we need to we can always airlift you out later on,’ she admitted.

‘That’s settled then,’ said Jack, and he closed his eyes.

‘Did you hear all that?’ Jameson asked Cody. ‘It looks like you’re going to get a lift back down after all.’

‘Well I’ll be damned,’ said Boyd when he saw what was in the net underneath the helicopter. Along with Lincoln Warner and the two Sherpas still at ABC, Boyd helped to unhook the net from the ski pads and then dropped down onto his haunches beside the beast while the chopper set down a few metres away. He looked at the drugged animal for a moment and then stroked its thick fur, winding some of the greasy reddish brown hair through his fingers. It felt oily to the touch, like the lanolin in a sheep’s fleece.

Jutta and Jameson jumped down from the helicopter and slid out the stretcher bearing Jack. As soon as they were clear, the helicopter took off, heading back up the glacier to collect the rest of the team.

Boyd helped Jameson carry Jack into the clamshell.

‘Anyone who wants to say I told you so, go right ahead,’ said Boyd.

‘Told you so,’ croaked Jack.

‘Attaboy, Jack. How are you feeling?’

‘Tired.’

‘Is this the guy that beat you up?’

‘His kid sister. And she’s in labour.’

‘No shit.’

Lincoln Warner followed them through the door and, at Jutta’s direction, began to push together two dining tables end to end.

‘What’s this? The delivery room?’ asked Boyd.

‘Looks that way,’ said Warner.

Jameson and Boyd, having transferred Jack to a camp bed, went off with the empty stretcher to collect the yeti and bring it under the clamshell. The minute the yeti was lying on the tables, Jameson started to search its abdomen with his stethoscope, looking for a second heartbeat.