“If you were selected as climbing leader for this expedition, Mallory, would you be willing to purchase your own equipment?”
“I’m sure I could manage that,” said George after a moment’s hesitation.
“And would you also be able to pay for your passage to India?” inquired Ashcroft.
George hesitated, because he couldn’t be sure to what extent his father-in-law would be willing to assist him. He eventually said, “I would hope so.”
“Good show, Mallory,” said Sir Francis. “Now, all that’s left for me to do is thank you on behalf of the…” Hinks furiously scribbled a note, which he thrust under Younghusband’s nose. “Ah, yes,” Sir Francis said. “If you were to be selected, would you be prepared to undergo a medical examination?”
“Of course, Sir Francis,” said George.
“Capital,” said the chairman. “The committee will be in touch with you in the near future, to let you know our decision.”
George rose from his place, still slightly bemused, and left the room without another word. When the porter had closed the door behind him, George said, “It was even worse than you predicted.”
“I did warn you,” said Finch.
“Just be sure you don’t say anything you’ll regret, George.”
Finch always knew Mallory was serious when he addressed him by his Christian name.
“What can you possibly mean, old chap?” he asked.
“Humor them, don’t lose your temper. Try to remember that it’s going to be you and me standing at 27,000 feet preparing for the final climb, while that lot will be back in their clubs, sitting in front of a log fire, and enjoying a glass of brandy.”
“What a splendid fellow,” Hinks said.
“I agree,” said Raeburn. “Exactly the sort of chap we’re looking for. Wouldn’t you agree, General?”
“I certainly liked the cut of his jib,” said Bruce. “But I think we need to see the other chap before we come to a decision.”
Geoffrey Young smiled for the first time.
“The other fellow doesn’t look in the same class on paper,” said Ashcroft.
“You won’t find many mountains on paper Commander,” said Young, trying not to sound exasperated.
“That may well be the case,” said Hinks, “but I feel I should point out to the committee that Mr. Finch is an Australian.”
“I was given to understand,” said Raeburn, “that we were only considering chaps from the British Isles.”
“I think you’ll find, Mr. Chairman,” said Young, “that Australia is still part of His Majesty’s far-flung Empire.”
“Quite so,” said Sir Francis. “Perhaps we should see the fellow before we jump to conclusions.”
Hinks made no effort to rise from his seat. He simply folded his arms and nodded at the porter, who bowed deferentially, opened the door, and announced, “Mr. Finch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“MR. FINCH,” THE porter repeated, a little more firmly.
“Got to leave you, old chap,” said Finch, and added with a grin, “which is exactly what I’ll be saying when we’re a couple of hundred feet from the summit.”
Finch strolled into the committee room and sat down in the chair at the end of the table before Sir Francis had an opportunity to welcome him. Young could only smile when he saw how Finch had dressed for the interview. It was almost as if he’d set out to provoke the committee: a casual corduroy jacket, a pair of baggy cream flannels, an open-necked shirt, and no tie.
When Young had briefed Mallory and Finch, it hadn’t crossed his mind to mention a dress code. But to this committee the candidates’ appearance would be every bit as important as their climbing record. They were now all staring at Finch in disbelief. Ashcroft even had his mouth open. Young leaned back and waited for the fireworks to be ignited.
“Well, Mr. Finch,” said Sir Francis once he’d recovered, “let me welcome you on behalf of the committee, and ask if you are prepared to answer a few questions.”
“Of course I am,” said Finch. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Capital,” said Sir Francis. “Then I’ll get the ball rolling by asking if you’re in any doubt that this great enterprise can be achieved. By that I mean, do you believe you are capable of leading a team to the summit of Everest?”
“Yes, I can do that,” said Finch. “But nobody has any idea how the human body will react to such altitude. One scientist has even suggested we might explode, and although I think that’s a fatuous notion, it does indicate that we haven’t a clue what we’ll be up against.”
“I’m not sure I follow you, old chap,” said Raeburn.
“Then allow me to elucidate, Mr. Raeburn.” The elderly gentleman looked surprised that Finch knew his name. “What we do know is that the higher you climb, the thinner the air becomes, meaning that every movement a mountaineer makes at altitude will be more difficult than the last. That may result in some falling by the wayside.”
“Yourself included, perhaps?” said Hinks, not looking directly at him.
“Yes indeed, Mr. Hinks,” Finch said, looking back at the secretary.
“But despite all that,” said Raeburn, “you would still be willing to give it a go.”
“Yes, I would,” Finch replied firmly. “But I should warn the committee that the success or failure of this project may depend on the use of oxygen during the last 2,000 feet.”
“I’m not altogether sure I follow your drift,” said Sir Francis.
“I reckon that above 24,000 feet,” replied Finch, “we will find it almost impossible to breathe. I’ve carried out some experiments at 15,000 feet which showed that with the assistance of bottled oxygen, it’s possible to continue climbing at almost the same rate as at a much lower altitude.”
“But wouldn’t that be cheating, old chap?” asked Ashcroft. “It’s always been our aim to test man’s ability against the elements without resorting to mechanical aids.”
“The last time I heard a similar opinion expressed publicly was at a lecture given by the late Captain Scott in this very building. I’m sure, gentlemen, that you don’t need reminding how that sad adventure ended.”
Everyone on the committee was now staring at Finch as if he was the subject of a Bateman cartoon, but he continued unabashed.
“Scott not only failed to be first to reach the South Pole,” Finch reminded them, “but as you all know only too well, he and the rest of his party perished. Amundsen not only reached the Pole ahead of Scott, but is continuing to lead expeditions to the uncharted places around the globe. Yes, I would like to be the first person to stand on the top of the world, but I would also like to return to London to deliver a lecture on the subject to the Royal Geographical Society.”
It was some time before the next question was asked.
“Allow me to ask you, Mr. Finch,” said Hinks, choosing his words carefully, “does Mr. Mallory agree with you on the use of oxygen?”
“No, he doesn’t,” admitted Finch. “He thinks he can climb Everest without it. But then, he’s a historian, Mr. Hinks, not a scientist.”
“Are there any more questions for this candidate?” asked Sir Francis, looking as if he had already made up his mind on who the committee should select as climbing leader for the expedition.
“Yes, Mr. Chairman,” said Hinks. “There are just one or two matters I’d like to clear up, simply for the record, you understand.” Sir Francis nodded. “Mr. Finch, could you tell the committee where you were born and where you were educated?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” replied Finch. “I have no idea where Mr. Alcock or Mr. Brown was educated, but I do know that they were the first men to fly across the Atlantic, and that they were only able to achieve that,
