Mackenzie Ford - The Clouds Beneath the Sun

“Yes, Miss Eleanor?”

“Why is it … why is it that each of us is given two chops, while Natalie here is given three? This is not the first time I have noted your—what shall we call it?— generosity in her direction. I know she’s new, I know she’s pretty, but is there some other reason for it? I’d just like to know, that’s all.”

Natalie blushed. She had begged Mutevu not to single her out but he wasn’t deterred; he kept piling her plate high.

Mutevu stood back from the table.

“Miss Natalie found my boot three days ago, Miss Eleanor.” He lifted his leg, to show her. “And she repair it where the monkeys tear it.”

Eleanor Deacon smiled. “So that’s it.” She nodded at Natalie. “Well done, my dear. I can’t complain, I suppose.” And she smiled at Mutevu. “And I have to say the food has been exceptionally good these past few days. You did say that you cooked better with your boots on, and it seems to be true.”

Smiling to herself, she went back to her own food. “Now,” she said, slicing into her chicken. “Although we need to be as thorough as possible, I feel we should finish surveying JDK as soon as possible, by the end of the week, certainly.” JDK stood for “Jock Deacon’s Korongo,” the name the local Maasai had given a cul-de-sac off the main gorge since digging started there years ago. “There is still a chance that we will find the rest of the skeleton to which the tibia and femur belong, but we have a lot to get through this season. Richard, Russell, how long do you think you’ll need?”

Russell North sat across the table from Natalie. Two evenings before, he had again joined her during her late-night smoke. They had again talked about their work and he had impressed her with his knowledge. And when she had produced the whiskey, he had presented her with some chocolate. Twice during their conversation, he had laid his hand on her arm. When he had taken his leave, he had once more stood very close, looking down at her.

And that was close enough, Natalie now knew. Someday, someday soon, she hoped, she could move beyond Dominic. But not with Russell, not here, not now. Physically, there was nothing wrong with him, but that wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. Russell was too raw, too … straightforward, even. That wasn’t a bad thing in itself but … Dominic had been so, so playful when they had met, so full of allusion, so light in his touch, so ambiguous in a gentle, soft way. Russell was pulling her in too quickly. Or trying to.

He now looked from Natalie to Richard, to Eleanor, to Arnold Pryce, to Daniel, to Jonas, to Kees. Then he nodded at Richard, who got up from the table and walked away from the refectory area to his own tent.

“Eleanor,” said Russell softly. “There’s something we were going to tell you all tonight, but since you’ve raised the question of timing now, we might as well discuss it now.”

“Oh yes?” said Eleanor. “What is it?” She swallowed some water from a tumbler. Across the camp they all heard the radio stutter into life. It was kept in Eleanor’s tent, which was bigger than the others. The pilots of small planes were swapping information about the weather, or talking to air traffic control at Kilimanjaro, the nearest proper airport.

Before going on, Russell turned in his seat. Richard was walking back from his tent carrying a towel wrapped around something. Back inside the refectory area, he approached the small serving sideboard across from the main table.

Russell got up and went to stand next to Richard as Richard unwrapped the towel. Now that she had been here a little while, Natalie thought that the two men made an unlikely partnership, both physically and temperamentally. Both were self-confident—which she liked well enough in a man—but whereas Richard had a quiet self-confidence, Russell was far more assertive. Those blue eyes, she was sure, could turn very cold if he was crossed.

Richard was rather theatrical about pulling back first one flap of the towel, then another, then another. With a final flourish, he pulled back the remaining flap.

“Voilà!”

Revealed on the towel were two long, thin bones.

“What on earth—?” Eleanor put down her knife and fork with a clatter.

“A tibia and a femur,” said Russell North, almost shouting. “A modern tibia and femur—”

“Proving,” chimed in Richard, “that our find is as sensational as we thought.” He looked directly at Natalie. “We’ve addressed Natalie’s criticism. We can now say so in print, and can show that her objections, however proper they were, are unfounded.” He smiled down at Natalie to show that he wasn’t bullying her this time. “These are modern bones, and although they are bigger than the ancient ones they have exactly the same configuration as those Daniel discovered in the gorge.”

All eyes were on the sideboard.

“And where, may I ask, did you find these bones?” Eleanor had pushed her plate away from her.

Richard went back to his place and sat down again. He lowered his voice. “You know that tribal burial ground—it’s about four miles from here, on a slope with lots of trees, where the goats play. We visited a grave last night. Very late.”

“You did what?” Eleanor ripped off her spectacles. She spoke in barely a whisper.

“Don’t worry. We didn’t do any damage. No one saw us.” Richard looked up at Russell and smiled. “We replaced all the earth we had dug up and smoothed it over. Now we can send the report to Nature from here, as Russell said. It will be very dramatic. And it cuts the chances of anyone beating us to the punch.”

“The evidence is quite clear, Eleanor.” Russell had also returned to his place at the table, taking the tibia and the femur with him. He now held a bone in each hand and brought them slowly together. They interlocked neatly. “The arrangement of the joint is virtually identical in the ancient specimen and in the modern specimen. Hominids walked upright two million years ago.”

There was silence around the table. All eyes were on Eleanor. She refitted her spectacles around her ears. Her own eyes flashed, the whites catching what light was going, her lenses magnifying the effect. The color had quite gone from her face, the corners of her mouth were turned down, her jaw was set forward, straining the skin on her neck. When, at length, she did speak, her voice had an icy edge to it. “Let me get this right … You stole some bones from a tribal burial ground. You sneaked into a sacred place, late at night, and just helped yourself to someone’s ancestors? You disturbed the peace of a tribal sanctuary that has been that way for generations?” She caught her breath. “Are you … are you … completely mad? Do you not realize what you have done?”

Her eyes held Richard’s. She didn’t blink.

“Come on, Eleanor, don’t exaggerate. Yes, it’s a burial ground but think what we can now do … It won’t take us more than a few days to complete the paper, and we can send it to London by the end of the week. We don’t have to say exactly where we found the bones—”

“Shut up!” She snatched off her glasses again and all but mangled them in her fingers. “I won’t hear a word more of this—and don’t tell me I’m exaggerating.” Eleanor’s mouth was a mere line across her face, her lips had all but disappeared. The skin on her throat was again stretched tight as her chin jutted forward. She still didn’t blink. “Don’t show your ignorance like that—or your cockiness.” She breathed out through her nose. “Do you know how long it has taken me to negotiate excavation rights in this area? You don’t think I just need a government permit, do you? I need the consent, the agreement, the approval , of the local tribes: the Maasai, the Datoga, the Itesu. The Maasai are Mutevu Ndekei’s tribe—how do you think they are going to take this? What do you think his standing in his tribe will be now? If they find out? Did you think of that?”