‘Ah. An honest Englishman.’ Victor was about to propose a toast but paused thoughtfully and scratched the several days’ growth on his cheeks. ‘I don’t know what to drink to. Today’s unforgettable past or tomorrow’s uncertain future . . . Let’s keep it simple. Sante.’
‘Cheers,’ Stratton said.
They took healthy swigs. Both men grimaced as they lowered their mugs.
‘That’s an interesting grape,’ Stratton offered, clearing his throat.
‘You think it’s made from grapes?’ Victor said, sarcastically. ‘My taste buds are ruined.’ He went back to preparing the food. ‘I was born not far from a vineyard that was overlooked by the Pyrenees. When I was a young boy I would sometimes sneak in and eat the grapes until I could hardly walk. I would lie and stare at the mountains and daydream of being an adventurer. They were Tannat grapes and when I grew up I preferred to drink the wine that was made from them. All my life I could recognise the smell of a Madiran from across a crowded room . . . I don’t think I could tell the difference between it and a glass of acid today.’
Stratton looked out of the window. The fire, left untended, was growing dim. The three Indians were sharing a meal at the big table. ‘What’s the story with them?’ he asked.
‘The old one is Yoinakuwa, and Kebowa and Mohesiwa are his sons,’ Victor said as he chopped vegetables. ‘They’ve been following me around for over three years now. I can’t get rid of them.’
‘That sounds like a complaint.’
‘It is and it isn’t, of course. Today was not the first time they’ve changed someone’s mind about attacking me.’ He put the vegetables into a pot. They sizzled immediately.
‘They just follow you around for no reason?’ Stratton asked, wondering what the rest of the story was.
Victor seemed reluctant to elaborate and drained the mug. Stratton refilled it and Victor continued with the story. ‘I came to this country five years ago as a jungle-canopy research scientist. You ever heard of the Nerugan nature reserve?’
Stratton shook his head.
‘It’s a hundred kilometres north-west of here, near the border. I was the station director. Yoinakuwa led the tribe that lived in the reserve. He was a king of his people. It wasn’t a huge tribe but big enough to have a king. King Yoinakuwa,’ Victor emphasised. ‘I like the way it rolls off the tongue.
‘A year or so before we built the facility, which was a couple of years after we began raising funds for the project, gold was discovered across the border. The subsequent frenzy spilled over into the reserve. We petitioned the government not to award any licences to mine the gold in the reserve and at first it looked as if we’d been successful. But we were naive. We should have guessed that if there was no official mining company it would leave the place wide open to illegal miners. They began coming in and setting up small camps all over the place. It didn’t affect us, not right away. But it wasn’t good for Yoinakuwa and his people. The miners had no respect for the land. They hunted anything and everything, placing crude traps all over the place, competing with Yoinakuwa’s people for the food. That’s when we . . . when I became more involved. I found Yoinakuwa a legal representative. My plan was to get the Indians to make their own claims to the land they had occupied for thousands of years. My naivety was only just beginning.
‘The illegal miners came up with a plan of their own, a rather simple and terrible one. Knowing it would take a long time for the Indians to legalise the claim they decided simply to wipe them out. Kill them. The depth of human depravity is beyond measure. After the first few killings Yoinakuwa and his people got ready to defend their land and hunting grounds from these foreign invaders. But they had no idea what they were up against. They had bows and spears but the enemy had rifles. And they were prepared to pay men to come in and use them. Yoinakuwa’s tribe quickly became the hunted. I tried to attract international attention to the illegal gold mining that was causing genocide. Guess what?’
‘The miners came for you.’
‘Exactly. That’s when I learned there was no limit to my naivety . . . The strategy against us was more subtle. But not
‘COPAS?’
‘Canopy Operation Permanent-Access System. It’s a large helium ballon with a basket suspended below that allows you to move vertically and horizontally on a system of wires through the treetops.’
‘Ah. The balloon in the canopy,’ Stratton said, recalling Victor’s comment when they first met.
‘Those were my favourite times. I could spend all day up there. It was like being in a different world that had its own laws of nature, a microcosm of life practically independent from the ground. It even had its own weather. Those bastards shot at the balloon while I was in it. They burst it and it crashed to the ground. I was lucky to survive. They thought they had killed me and tried to cover up my supposed murder by burning down the facility and making it look as if the Indians had done it. When they realised I had survived the bastards came to kill me again. I managed to escape into the forest and went in search of the only allies I had. I arrived at Yoinakuwa’s village just as the mercenaries that the miners had hired were mounting their attack. They destroyed every hut and hunted down and killed nearly every man, woman and child. I found Yoinakuwa lying unconscious beside his dead wife and daughters. His two sons were making a last stand beside him. I had a rifle that had belonged to our security guards. I held off the mercenaries long enough to get Yoinakuwa and his boys out of there. They killed everyone else, every member of Yoinakuwa’s tribe. The miners’ aim was to destroy the Indians so that none of them would ever be able to challenge the invaders’ rights to the mines. And they succeeded . . . or as good as.
‘Yoinakuwa and his sons are the last of their line. It’s bad enough for a man to have to bury his wife and children. No man should have to bury his entire history. Since then they have never strayed far from my side. I truly don’t understand why. I know it’s partly because I saved their lives. But I have told Yoinakuwa many times that he owes me nothing. I even told him that I was largely to blame for everything by stopping the licensing of the miners in the first place. It made no difference to him.’
‘Are they the reason why you don’t leave?’
‘Ha! An interesting question. It’s true that I have often thought about leaving. You lose heart at times. It’s also true that I could not bring myself to say goodbye to them. Maybe I’ll take them back to France with me one day. I just don’t see them stacking shelves in the local supermarket, though. Obligation is a terrible thing, to be sure. I hope I wake up one morning and find they have gone. With luck that’s the way it will be.’
Victor placed two plates on the table, along with a pot containing his gastronomic creation. He found some bread in a wooden box on the table, broke a piece off to test its freshness and placed a lump in front of Stratton. ‘Eat,’ he said as he spooned the food onto the plates. ‘This is as good as it gets around here.’
While Victor poured them both more wine Stratton tasted the concoction. ‘Not bad,’ he said.
The scientist shrugged. ‘From a man who enjoys corked wine that’s not much of a compliment.’
Stratton smiled.
Victor could not help liking the Englishman. He held up his mug. ‘Thanks again for the rocket thing. That was a natural act of chivalry. You can’t be all bad.’
The door opened and Stratton reached swiftly for his M4 a few feet away.
Louisa stepped into the cabin. ‘Oh,’ she said, pausing in the doorway. ‘Hello, Victor.’ She closed the door behind her.
‘Louisa,’ he said, greeting her.
She stopped at his back and rested her hands on his shoulders. ‘You’ve had a long day, and a very unfriendly homecoming.’
Victor enjoyed her show of affection. ‘I have cooked some food,’ he said.
Louisa looked into the pot, dipped a finger in and tasted the contents. Her expression showed her approval. ‘I’ll take some for Sebastian.’
‘Be quick before my English friend eats it all.’
‘You are friends already?’ she asked.
‘We have both lived and died today,’ Victor said. ‘I don’t know what that means but we are certainly not enemies.’
Stratton could not take his eyes off Louisa. She was even more beautiful close up. ‘Hi,’ he said, getting to his feet and wiping his hand against his side before offering it. ‘I’m . . .’ he began. But Louisa walked away to the kitchenette and took a jug off the shelf.
