Right of Thirst (13 page)

“Good,” I said. “That's reassuring. But what is the army doing to let them know we're here? I was told that was part of the arrangement.”

“We are doing everything we can,” he replied. “We are doing our best. I understand, Doctor, your frustration. And I sympathize. There are many factors. Many do not know where to go, even though we have dropped maps from the air. They are al
ways suspicious of paper, even if it is a map, because they cannot read. Sometimes they burn the maps to start their fires. I have heard reports of this.”

“Have you sent anyone up there to tell them where the camp is? Wouldn't that be a good idea?”

“Of course, of course. But you must be patient. Eventually they will come, I assure you, but this is a new camp, and news travels slowly no matter what we do. The terrain is very rough. There are hundreds of villages, but they are very small and the distance between them is great. They are suspicious of outsiders, and also it is along the border. There are security concerns. There is the problem of transport in the mountains. And problems with weather. The recent snow. And of course many of them do not want to leave. Always there are these problems.”

“Why don't they want to leave?” I asked.

“These are very backward people, Doctor,” he said. “They have many superstitions and suspicions. They are extremely ignorant. They only know their villages, and it is difficult to get them to leave even when the villages are destroyed and soon it will be winter. They always think God will provide for them. They are always a struggle for us, and they never know what is best, even when they are told.”

“Do you know what is best?” Elise said, suddenly. It was a provocative remark, and it got the general's attention, because his habitual half smile faded for an instant. But then it was back, stronger than ever.

“No,” he said lightly, turning his head to wink at Rai. “It is only my wife who knows what is best.”

I laughed, politely, and shot Elise a look. She met my eye, unrepentant, and began to scowl.

The general turned back to us with a smile.

“If you will forgive me,” he said. “I must talk to your
young host about very dull things. I must talk to him about logistics.”

“Of course,” I said, taking the hint, noting Rai's pained expression as I did so. “We'll leave you alone.”

“We will not be long,” the general said. “Don't worry.”

The guards remained outside, and as we left the tent they glanced at us, neither friendly nor unfriendly. I could hear the general's voice as we left, and realized that he wasn't speaking English anymore.

We walked toward the helicopter, out of earshot.

“I do not like him,” Elise said.

“Why not?”

“He is trying very hard to…” She muttered something in German, which she rarely did. “I am not sure what the word is in English.”

“To charm?” I asked.

“Yes. To charm. He is trying very hard to charm. And Sanjit is afraid of him.”

“Sanjit is afraid of his rank,” I said.

She looked at me.

“I am not sure why,” she said, “but I am a little afraid of him also.”

I thought about this, about why the general radiated such power. The easy answer would be that he had all the props—the helicopter, the guards, the subservience that every army affords superior officers. And it was easy—natural, in fact—to fear such men, however charming they might be, because one suspected them of being capable of terrible acts despite all their good manners and intelligence. I suppose that had he and I exchanged roles—we were not so far off in age, after all—and I had descended from the helicopter, and came out to greet Captain Rai, his reaction might have been much the same, and Elise's as
well. Nonetheless, I didn't fully believe that the effect was one purely of circumstance. There was something else also, something harder to define. General Said was an intelligent man, of that there was no doubt, and yet there he was, presiding over a few ragged, worn-out tents, a few meager piles of provisions. Yet both of those men—Rai, and presumably the man he hoped one day to become—sat talking as if there were secrets to be kept, and forces afoot, and matters of great national importance drifting everywhere in the cold reaches around us.

General Said had something else as well: a sense of presence. There was something in his gaze, and his smile, and his firm-enough handshake, that didn't let you dismiss him so easily. No doubt he was exceptionally lazy, but if so his laziness was calculated and exquisitely refined, with discipline all its own. I wondered if he had ever ordered an execution.

“What do you think they're talking about?” I said.

“Sanjit will tell us,” Elise said confidently.

The pilots had gotten out of the helicopter and were smoking and talking among themselves. I was tempted to join them, to ask them about the helicopter—how high it could fly, and was it as reliable as Western helicopters, and what was its range—all the usual questions asked by men and boys in such situations. Instead I looked out down the valley and wondered whether I should pack up and go. I glanced at Elise.

“How long are you planning to stay here?” I asked.

“I don't know,” she said. “Until I am sure they are not coming, I think. But are you going to leave?”

“No,” I said. “Not yet. But they were supposed to be here by now. At least some of them. And we haven't seen a single one.”

She looked pensive, and I realized in that moment that I felt responsible for her, however resourceful she imagined herself to be. Of course I knew my concerns were old-fashioned, and that
some would even have found them cause for offense. But I felt them anyway, looking up at the ridgelines and the snow.

To my surprise, she took my arm and impulsively leaned against me. I put my arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close for a moment.

“Don't worry,” I said. “I don't have anywhere else to go.”

Nearly an hour passed before they emerged. General Said looked well rested, entirely at ease, but Rai looked pinched, like a driven schoolboy who had just taken an important examination that he was not certain he had passed. Elise and I exchanged glances. In truth we had been inconvenienced, because there was nowhere else warm to sit. The guards, for their part, stood scanning the ridges behind us. We stayed clear of them, and I wondered what they were looking for.

The general was all smiles and apologies. He did not realize they had taken so long. He would like to make it up to us.

“There's no need at all,” I said, doing my part.

“No, no,” he said. “What kind of host have I been? A bad one, I will tell you.”

“But you are visiting us,” Elise said.

If he was surprised by her comment, he didn't let on. He merely smiled.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “But you are the guests of my country. Please,” he said. “Let me give you a tour.”

“A tour?” I asked.

“Of course. I promise it will be very thrilling.” He turned and spoke rapidly to one of his companions.

I realized that he meant to take us for a ride in the helicopter. “Captain Rai has to write his report,” he said. “We have been talking too much about serious matters, and so now let us enjoy ourselves.”

“Would you like to see the tents and the supplies first?” I asked. He waved his hand dismissively.

“Believe me, Doctor, I have seen enough tents in my life. I am dreaming of tents. And supplies also. That is all I know. Come,” he said, gesturing. “Let's go.”

I could not resist. Perhaps I should have, on some principle or another. But it was too much to pass up.

Elise, to her credit, was reluctant. I could see her struggling with it. She wanted to, of course, and in that sense it was a foregone conclusion. But it gave her pause, where it gave me next to none.

The helicopter was rigged for cargo—a smooth metal floor, with rings for tying down supplies. Thin metal and canvas jump seats unfolded from the walls. It was a large machine—there were perhaps fifteen seats, excluding the pilot's. The seat belts, such as they were, were green canvas straps. As we approached, the pilots quickly extinguished their cigarettes and took their seats, but did not salute or come to attention—apparently the general did not stand on formality with them. They put on their helmets, and their glasses, so I could not see their faces.

Up front, the cockpit was wide and airy and full of glass. General Said ushered us in, insisting that we take the best seats, just behind and above the pilots, where he himself normally flew. His guards sat in the back, and the general did not sit down at all, but stood behind us. He made a show, also, of our headphones, carefully adjusting them for Elise and ensuring that she had placed them correctly on her head. He made certain her seat belt was buckled.

“I am sure,” he said, “that you are the first woman who has ever been in this helicopter. So you see, this helicopter is a virgin.”

He laughed, pleased with the joke, which made me wince,
and then turned to the pilots, speaking rapidly. They nodded, and one of them gave us a thumbs-up.

“I told them to give us a thrill,” he said to me, with a smile, and just then the pilots began flipping switches on the large panel above their heads with practiced ease. The labels were in Russian, and the instruments looked somehow crude, old-fashioned, and well made at the same time. Dials with cut-glass faces, and white numbers, and heavy buttons everywhere that looked as if they would be very satisfying to push. The stick, sturdy and industrial, and the aluminum rudder pedals—all of it functional and purposeful, and I suddenly suspected that Captain Rai was right, that this really was a very good and rugged helicopter, and that I was not taking my life in my hands as I otherwise might have thought.

The engines came to life then, and the rotors began to turn, and as the sound rose to a shriek the reason for General Said's insistence on the earphones became clear. Just then his voice came through them, with a hint of static.

“Can you hear me?” he asked. Elise nodded, but did not speak.

“Yes,” I said, my own voice loud in my ears.

The pilot said something I couldn't understand, but I felt the general grip the seat back behind me and brace himself, and then the pilot lifted his left hand sharply, and just like that the helicopter leapt straight into the air, the dust pouring out of the ground, and then the pilot nosed it over until the canopy filled with a heart-stopping view of boulders and stones, and then he sent us slinging across the field. It was difficult to believe so large a machine could move so quickly. I heard Elise gasp and felt her grab my arm, and then, in just a few seconds, we were at the edge, and then the slope leading down to the river dropped away beneath us, opening an enormous pit in my stomach, as sud
denly there were hundreds of feet through the canopy beneath the pilot's legs. Then he banked, hard, and the canyon wall came up, and we were pressed deep in our seats as the rock wall began pouring by. General Said stayed on his feet without difficulty, grinning widely, and now we were circling back, climbing as we did so, above our camp, and the many empty tents. Then the pilot banked hard again, to the left, and we were looking down the full length of the valley. My hands, I realized, were clenched on the metal frame of the seat, my legs were braced, and Elise was holding on to my arm with all her strength. Back and forth we went, in long circles, higher and higher, until for the first time we could see above the ridges, north toward the epicenter. Somewhere out there the border lay claimed and reclaimed, but all I could see was the sky and wave after wave of jagged white peaks stretching off toward the horizon, shining in the sun, with no sign of damage anywhere, and no hint of human presence, like a kingdom of the dead.

General Said's gift was a tiny mountain lake at the northern end of an adjacent valley. It was easy to see why the valley was empty of human beings—it would have been impossible to grow anything on the hillsides, jagged and steep as they were, and the valley itself was so narrow that only a few hours of sun could strike the center each day. But the lake at the end of it was like a perfect blue flower on a stem of thorns. Only a hundred yards or so across, it lay in the hollow of a snow-tipped peak. A small pine forest, also, at the water's edge, and then an acre or two of meadow where we landed. It was all in miniature, the lake and the forest, the lawn-sized grasslands, set down like an island in a sea of rock.

The meadow was covered with pinpoint white and red flowers, and as we landed no dust rose. I watched the grass flatten beneath the rotors, and felt the gentlest of nudges, as the engines wound down and the shadows of the blades spun across the grass for a few moments until they stopped. My ears were ringing, and felt full, and I swallowed to clear them and took off my headphones, and just then the guard with the rifle opened the sliding door at the back and jumped out onto the grass. The breeze came in, cool and warm at the same time.

“Well?” General Said said, as we'd walked down to the water's edge. “Is it to your liking?”

“It's beautiful,” Elise said.

The water was an iridescent blue from a distance and like cut glass up close, spring fed, releasing a single stream into the wilds of canyon below. The breeze ruffled its surface, the air was full of the smell of greenery, which I don't think I've ever been quite so aware of. There were fish—I could see them, gray and silver, as long as my hand, nosing through the shallows and the slap of the water on the rocks.

“There are many fish in these lakes,” the general said.

“And there are many lakes like this?” Elise asked, turning toward him.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “Only this is my favorite. But you must not tell anyone.”

“How did you even know it was here?” I asked.

“That is a military secret,” he said, and smiled. “But I will tell you. Aerial reconnaissance. That is how.”

I imagined him, with the others, studying rolls of photographs taken at great altitude, bending over illuminated tables in dingy city rooms.

“Of all the secrets I know,” he continued, gesturing to the lake, “I like this one the best.”

“It is cold, but not so cold,” Elise said, crouching down and touching the water with her hand. She cupped her hands, and brought up a palmful to her lips, and drank. It surprised me, that she would drink from the lake. I did not join her, but watched as she drank her fill, then washed her face and neck quickly, and ran her wet hands over her short hair until it began to stand up on its own. Then she stood, and stretched, and looked longingly out.

“I would like to swim,” she said, impulsively, but then she glanced at General Said and just as quickly changed her mind.

“Do you know how deep it is?” I asked him.

“I am not sure, of course,” he said. “But I think it is very deep. You cannot see the bottom from the air.”

All that clear bottomless water, and the luxuriant green grass of the meadow underfoot, and the profusion of pinpoint red and white flowers—it was hard to believe, and suddenly I didn't want to go back to all the rocks and dust and snow of our camp, the oversweet tea and the limp moldy toast.

Elise walked off on her own then, and the general and I continued toward the stand of pines between the edge of the lake and the granite wall of the mountain. No doubt it was illusory, but the air felt warmer than on our side of the escarpment. Another fish jumped, a larger flash of silver.

He sighed contentedly.

“You know,” he said, “our religion came from the desert. From Arabia. Water was very precious to them. And so one of our oldest laws is that we must give water to travelers. That is why we always give tea to our guests.”

“Offering tea is an obligation?”

“Yes,” he said. “In our scripture this is called the right of thirst. But as you can see, I am giving you this instead.”

He made a show of breathing in the air, deeply, through his nose.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“When I think of paradise,” he continued, “I think of this place. Sometimes I imagine this lake when I am listening to long speeches. And so I look very peaceful and attentive, and do not fall asleep. It is very useful.”

I smiled, on cue. A moment passed.

“Our artists always paint such scenes,” he said. “If you go to any market, you will see many of them.”

He knelt and picked one of the tiny red wildflowers, then held it up and studied it closely.

“Think of this,” he said. “It is a perfect thing. How can one look at this flower and say that God has not made it?”

“I don't know,” I replied.

He spun it off his fingers, and it fell.

The grass underfoot was soft, and for the first time in weeks I couldn't hear my own footsteps.

“We should have put the camp here,” I said.

“Yes,” he replied. “Of course. But this valley is too steep, as you can see.”

Elise turned away from the water's edge, and crossed the meadow toward us.

“Ah, yes,” he said, with appreciation, watching her walk. “And she is like the cherry on the cake, you know?”

Just then there was an excited shout behind us, and we turned. The two guards were pointing across the lake at the walls of the mountain.

At first I could not make out what they were seeing. Then, squinting against the sun, I saw tiny moving figures on the high granite wall.

The general's face lit up.

“Ibex,” he said, excitedly. “A whole herd of them.” Then he turned, and shouted something at the guards, one of whom immediately trotted back to the helicopter. He emerged a few moments later with a pair of oversized binoculars, which he quickly brought to the general. Said raised them eagerly, and trained them on the wall.

“Yes,” he said. “A very good buck also. To the left of the rest.”

He handed the binoculars to me, and the mountainside leapt up. The ibex were gray-brown, and heavily built, some with beards, all with dark curved horns several feet in length. They moved effortlessly across the steep face, leaping over stones, from ledge to ledge, like tree dwellers through a forest canopy. They were purposeful, heads down, and mysterious, as if they knew where they were going.

“Perhaps something frightened them,” the general said. “Look behind.”

I did, carefully, but there was nothing, only the gray clean stone, and the boulders, and the patches of snow.

“Can I see?” Elise, who had joined us by then, asked, and I realized that I'd kept the binoculars too long. I apologized, and passed them to her.

The guard with the rifle asked the general something. He sounded excited, and the general sighed, as if he did not like what he was about to say. Then he spoke, curtly, and the man bowed his head in acknowledgment. I thought of the rifle. But I said nothing—instead I asked him if there were snow leopards up there in the heights as well.

“Yes,” the general said wistfully, watching the tiny figures round the high shoulder of the ridge and disappear. “Although I have never seen one. They are very rare. I have seen tracks only. Someday, perhaps.”

The general turned, and said something to the guard with the notebook, who pulled a pen from his pocket and made a careful notation.

Elise handed him the binoculars.

“They are very fast, yes?” she said.

“They are very powerful,” the general said. “They are believed to have many properties.”

It was the first time I'd seen wild animals of any size since I'd
been there. I'd seen what I assumed were marmots in burrows in the rocks, but that was all, and this sudden herd pouring across the cliffs, however far away, made the land softer in my eyes.

“The villagers hunt them,” the general said. “And so you only see herds like this where there are no villages. Only in empty places.”

We spent a few more minutes wandering along the meadow, around to the pines, and then back again. It was early enough, and the sun remained high above the ridges, but it was no place to fly at night, or in bad weather, and soon the general glanced at his watch and said that he was sorry to inform us that we had to leave. And so we got back in the helicopter. Unlike before, the pilot was gentle, and as we rose slowly off the meadow into the air I had a clear view of the blue center of the lake. The general was correct—there was no bottom to it that I could see, just the brilliant water, and our shadow passing through it, and then, for just a moment, the surface became a mirror, and I saw the helicopter with perfect clarity, suspended in the blue. I'd never seen anything like it before—a shadow, which then became the clearest of images before vanishing in the glare. By the time I'd turned to Elise to show her, it was gone.