The Quest

Purcell looked at Vivian, then at Mercado. There had definitely been a new spring in Henry’s step since that morning. But interestingly, Vivian seemed the same. In fact, at breakfast on the morning of his flight with Signore Bocaccio, which would have been soon after Vivian had sex with Henry, she had seemed herself-as though she’d put the encounter in a file drawer and forgot about it.

And then she’d invited Purcell to have sex with her.

It was possible, however, that nothing of a penetrating nature had happened. He was certain he would not have been happy to see what did happen in Henry’s bedroom, but it might have fallen short of a legal definition of cheating on your boyfriend.

Henry, however, seemed to be happy with whatever had happened, even if the object of his affection didn’t seem so moved by the experience.

He looked again at Vivian, who was chatting happily with her old friend.

In Vivian’s mind, all was now right with her world, and they could all be friends, and continue with their mission here, which to Vivian was far more important than two horny men. No doubt she loved Frank Purcell, and he loved her, so now he had to decide what to do about what she had done.

Two waiters appeared with a wine bucket, fluted glasses, and a bottle of Moët amp; Chandon, which one of them displayed to Mercado. He pronounced the year magnifique, and told his companions, “This is on the newspaper.”

Purcell suggested, “Tell them you entertained a member of the Derg.”

“I always do.”

The headwaiter popped the cork, which caused some heads to turn, then filled the flutes.

Henry held up his glass and proposed, “To us, and to Sir Edmund, and to our journey.”

They drank and Vivian said, “Ooh. I love it.”

Mercado suggested, “We will take a bottle with us on the road, and pop it when we see the black monastery in the jungle.”

Purcell warned him, “That might be the last alcohol you ever see.”

“Nonsense. The monks drink wine.”

They finished their glasses and Mercado refilled them.

Purcell said, “Okay, one more flight to Gondar, and on the way we will check out whatever we’ve circled on the photographs. With any luck, we will be able to narrow the circles down to a few, or we will see something else that may be of interest. In any case, we will land in Gondar and go to the Goha Hotel. We’ll shop for provisions without attracting too much attention, then we will spend the night, then get in the Land Rover with the driver and security man, and tell them we are hiking. We’ll get dropped off near the spa, tell the driver to meet us there in six hours, and we are off on our quest. First stop is Shoan.”

Mercado and Vivian processed all that, and Mercado said, “I think we should go first to the places in the photographs that are possibly what we’re looking for.”

“I don’t want to traipse around the jungle for a week or two.” He reminded Mercado, “That is rough country, old man, and I don’t just mean the terrain. We want to minimize the walking, and not use up our provisions.”

Mercado replied, “I’ve done this sort of thing before, Frank.”

“Good. Then you agree.” He continued, “The Falashas may be more helpful than those photographs.”

“They may be the opposite of helpful-or they may all be gone.”

Vivian said, “Our first objective should be the spa.” She reminded them, “We said we’d bring back a relic… a bone of Father Armano.”

“You carry the bone.” He also said, “I will call Signore Bocaccio tonight about the availability of the plane. I’d like to go tomorrow.”

Mercado thought about that, then asked, “Are you saying that we’re leaving the aircraft in Gondar?”

“Well, it’s not going to fly itself back.” He assured Mercado, “I’ll telex Signore Bocaccio from the Goha and let him know he can pick up his plane in Gondar, and keep our security deposit.”

Neither Mercado nor Vivian replied.

“I don’t think we’ll be needing Mia one way or the other after we leave Gondar on our journey.”

Again, no one responded.

Purcell further explained, “There is no reason for us to return here. We don’t need any more photographs developed, and it is time we moved forward-before we get shut down by the authorities or by something outside our control.” He looked at Mercado and Vivian. “Caesar crossed the Rubicon and burned his bridges behind him. And that is what we will do tomorrow.”

Mercado said, “We should see what Sir Edmund has written to us. That may influence what we do next.”

“Let’s first have our own plan.”

“All right, Frank. We have a plan. Now please open the envelope.”

Purcell glanced around to see if anyone was paying too much attention to them, then tore open the envelope. He extracted a single piece of paper and looked at it.

Vivian asked, “What does it say?”

“It is… a poem.” He smiled, then said, “Titled, ‘The Explorer.’ ”

Mercado said, “That’s Kipling, if you don’t know.”

“Thank you.” He read, “Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges-Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!”

He looked up at Mercado and Vivian.