'Have you ever dissected an orang-utang?' asked Stephen.
'Only one,' said Van Buren. 'His spleen is on the shelf with the human examples, a pitifully meagre collection. It is very difficult to get a really prime cadaver in this country: nothing but the occasional adulterer.'
'But surely criminal conversation, illicit venery, even grossly over-indulged, will hardly affect a man's spleen?'
'It will in Pulo Prabang, my dear sir. The incontinent person is peppered: that is to say a small sack or rather bag partially filled with pepper is tied over his head, his hands are bound, and he is delivered over to the aggrieved family and their friends; they form a ring, beating the sack with sticks so that the pepper flies. Presently it kills him and I have the corpse; hut the prolonged and repeated convulsions that precede death distort the spleen most surprisingly and so change its juices that they are useless for comparison; they do not support my theory at all.'
'Does the ape's spleen differ widely from ours?' asked Stephen after a pause.
'Remarkably little. The renal impression above the posterior border - but I will show you both without naming either, and you will decide for yourself.'
'I should love to see an orang-utang,' observed Stephen.
'Alas, there are very few down here,' said van Buren. 'It was a great disappointment to me. They eat the precious durians, and they are killed for doing so.'
'Absurd as it may seem, I have never seen a durian either.'
'Why, my bat-tree is a durian. Let me show you.' They walked out to the far end of the garden, where a tall tree stood in a little enclosure of bamboos. 'There are my bats,' said van Buren, pointing to clusters of dark, almost black creatures about a foot bong hanging upside down, their wings wrapped about them. 'When the sun reaches the far trees they will begin to squeak and gibber, and then they will fly off to the Sultan's garden and strip his fruit-trees, if the guardians do not take great care.'
'Do they not eat your durians?'
'Oh dear me no. I will find one if I can.' Van Buren stepped over the low fence, took a long forked pole and peering up into the tree he poked among the leaves. The bats stirred and muttered angrily and one or two flew out in a circle, settling again higher up- a five-foot wingspan. 'Some people eat them,' remarked van Buren, and then he cried, 'Take care.' The durian fell with a heavy thump, an object the size and shape of a coconut but covered with strong thickset spikes. 'The skin is far too thick for any fruit-bat,' he said as he cut it open, 'quite apart from the spikes. Ugly spikes: I have had several patients with dangerous lacerated wounds from a durian falling on their heads. The orang-utang opens them, however, spikes, coriaceous skin and all. This one is quite ripe, I am happy to say. Pray try a piece.'
Stephen realized that the smell of decay came not from their dissection but from the fruit, and it was not without a certain effort that he overcame his reluctance. 'Oh,' said he a moment later, 'how extraordinarily good; and what an extraordinary contradiction between the senses of smell and taste. I had supposed them to be inseparably allied. How I applaud the orang-utang's discrimination.'
'They are charming animals, from what I have heard and what little I have seen: gentle, deliberate, with nothing whatsoever of the baboon, the mandril, or even the pongo, let alone the restless petulant wantonness of monkeys in the general sense. But as I say there are almost none down here. To see a miss, for I believe that is the true Malay, you must go to Kumai.'
'I long to do so. You have been there, I collect?'
'Never, never: with this leg I cannot climb, and at the end of all possible riding there are innumerable steps cut into the bare rock of the crater's outward side. The path is called the Thousand Steps, but I believe there are many more.'
'I have an almost equal disadvantage. I am tied to this place until the negotiations are brought to an issue, I hope a happy issue. Today I learnt of a connexion that may prove useful.'
Early in their acquaintance or indeed friendship Stephen had found that van Buren was utterly opposed to the French project, both because he hated Buonaparte and what he had done to Holland, and because he thought it would ruin Pulo Prabang, which he loved. They had many friends in common, particularly the more eminent French anatomists; each knew and appreciated the other's work; and for once in his career as an intelligence-agent Stephen had laid aside dissimulation. He now told van Buren of his conversation with Lin Liang and of his hopes; and after that, as they sat on a shaded bench outside the dissecting-room, van Buren returned to his accurate, well informed account of the members of the Sultan's council, their virtues, shortcomings, tastes, approachability.
'I am infinitely obliged to you, dear colleague,' said Stephen at last. 'The moon has risen and I can see my way back into the town, where I mean to walk about among the bawdy-houses and places where they dance.'
'May I hope to see you later? I usually start work again in the cool of the night, at about two; and if we do not finish some of the finer processes before tomorrow's sun, they may scarcely be distinguishable. But before you go let me tell you of a thought that occurs to me. Our Latif's half-brother is a servant in the house allotted to the French mission: he may be able to gather some small scraps of information about your man from Pondicherry.'
These days Stephen rarely saw either Fox or Jack Aubrey. He stayed ashore, usually sleeping in the favourite haunt of the small Javanese colony, a house where there were exquisite dancing-girls and a famous Javanese orchestra, a gamelan, whose rhythms, intervals and cadences, though entirely foreign to his ear, pleased him as he lay there through the night by his scented sleeping-partner, a young woman so accustomed to her clients' peculiarities - some very bizarre indeed - that his passivity neither surprised nor displeased her.
Here, in the main hail where the dancers performed, he sometimes met his shipmates, surprised, embarrassed, shocked by his presence. Mr Blyth the purser, a kindly man and older than Stephen, took him aside and said, 'I think I ought to warn you, Doctor, that this place is little better than a disorderly house; prostitution often occurs.'
Gambling often occurred too, very passionate gambling for very high stakes, sometimes going on till dawn. It was mostly monied people who came here, but he rarely saw any of the French and never Ledward or Wray, who had gone to join the Sultan in his hunting, Ledward having some acquaintance with the Raja of Kawang. Once however he played with four Spanish shipwrights in the French service who had brought their month's pay from the ship, anchored in a remote creek to keep her people out of harm's way. He took their money from them - he had always been lucky at cards - and a great deal of information; but on finding that they were most reluctant
