Hood remained seated. "Do something by myself, anyway." He threw her a few gold coins. "For the first leg of the trip."

She didn't pick them up. "We leave at dawn."

They went on at six A.M., the plane bouncing as they slowly climbed west. It was another long, cramped day, and after landing at Chengdu and refueling, Hood wearily sat with his back against the tail of the plane, watching the sun go down in a haze of fire behind the mountains to the west. He'd stuffed cotton in his ears beneath his helmet for the flight, but they still rang from the long hours in the air.

Calloway had been her usual laconic self upon landing, wordlessly directing coolies to gas up the plane and checking an engine that ticked as it cooled. Most people got to Hood's family and money sooner rather than later, but she'd shown no interest in either. She was professional, guarded, and working hard to be unimpressed. Hood considered that a sign of character, but still.

Beth finally wiped her hands with a rag and stood in front of him. "Are you just going to lean on my plane, or find us a place to sleep?"

"I'm postponing the inevitable. There are more fleas inside than out."

"I think you're sulking because I broke your scotch."

He looked up at her, squinting against the late glare of the sun. "And I think you were showing off by breaking it."

She bit her lip. "So were you, by bringing it. I knew what it cost."

He looked back down across the airfield. Pretty women had the luxury of being annoying, and she was managing to annoy him. Pepsodent my ass. "Sorry to have offended you."

Beth suddenly looked hesitant and abruptly walked around the plane again, thrumming the wire wing supports for tension. Then she plopped next to him on the grass. "Look, it was stupid."

He studied her, the girl too tough to ever risk being hurt. "You don't allow yourself to enjoy much, do you?"

"I don't allow myself to be disappointed. It's a fault." She shook out her curls to loosen them from the packing of the helmet. Of course she didn't go so far as to actually look at him or offer a pleasantry. That would be too polite.

But she didn't move away, either. They both had goggle rings around their eyes, like raccoons.

She stared at the sky, too.

"I never knew riding could be so tiring," Hood finally tried again.

Silence.

"I'm still vibrating from the engine. It doesn't go away."

More quiet. Then, "Ready to walk, college boy?"

"Why do you call me that? I'm a specimen collector, not an intellectual. You already claimed you're a reader as well, though damned if I've noticed any evidence of it."

"I was reciting Thucydides all day. You just couldn't hear over the engine."

"Baloney. I'll bet the only thing you've ever read is Ladies' Home Journal and engine manuals."

"Ladies' Home Journal!" She barked a laugh. Then she finally looked at him to recite, proud as a schoolgirl. "The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage. Thucydides said that."

"E Pluribus Unum. A nickel says that. See? We're both eggheads."

She finally laughed. "Out of many, one."

"But you're the lonely aviatrix."

"I just rely on myself."

"And you're free."

"To a point."

"And courageous."

"To a point."

"And contemptuous of any man who isn't you."

She seemed warily interested in his assessment. "Women, too."

"I've never sat home counting stock coupons, which I could afford to do." He knew he sounded defensive. "I'm paying my own way on a mission for my government. I'm in the middle of nowhere, going to find a man I'd just as soon forget. It takes courage to fly in a plane like yours, with a pilot like you, in a place like this, but I don't feel free at all."

"Or happy?"

"The best I've managed is to be amused."

"So what the devil are you doing here, Dr. Hood?" She was cross-legged and leaned forward a little, curious now.

"It's secret, of course." He could think of no better way to irritate her.

"To save the world," she guessed. "It's got to be something important to fly to the end of the earth."

"Why do you care?"

"You've taken me with you. It only seems I'm taking you."

He plucked at the grass, recognizing the truth of that. He considered how to answer her. "All anyone ever manages is to save themselves-I know that. But give me credit for doing what I can. The fact is, the luck of my birth embarrasses me. I envy ordinary people."

"Then you're a fool."

"People are happier being ordinary."

"Nonsense. You're the kind of man who does everything he can to keep from being ordinary. I've seen your type in China a hundred times. Terrified of being bored. Deliberately eccentric to fit the adventure stereotype. Achievement as penance."

"Penance for what?"

"You tell me."

"For being envied by people like you." He looked square at her as he said it.

That stopped her for a moment. Then she nodded. "So tell me, Dr. Benjamin Grayson Hood. What are you really doing here? Why go to Lhasa now? Nobody goes to Lhasa."

"The Nazis have sent an expedition to Tibet."

"Nazis!"

"SS officers. I'm to find out what they're up to."

She looked more puzzled than ever. "Why you?"

"I've been to the edge of Tibet twice before, on museum expeditions."

"So the American, British, and Chinese governments send a curator?" It clearly made no sense to her.

"When we came before, we had an international group. One of the scientists was a German named Kurt Raeder. An able mountain climber, crack shot, and trained zoologist like me. It was a natural partnership."

"You mean you know German?"

"Yes, but I mean I know Raeder. He's the leader of this new Nazi group, coming back to a nation we visited before."

"Ah. So you can approach him, as a friend, to learn what he's up to."

Hood gave a humorless smile. "Actually, he's an enemy."

This intrigued her. "Really? You had a falling-out? Tug-of-war over a carcass? Argument over the right scientific Latin name?"

She was teasing, but he decided to be honest. The truth was, she was risking her life just taking him there. And she was obviously intelligent. "Argument over a woman."

"Ah."

"Her name was Keyuri Lin. Her husband hired on as a porter and guide and she came with him to cook and clean. Raeder had his eye on her from the beginning; she's very pretty. He and the husband were out one day and Mondro fell off a cliff. Or so Raeder said."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps he was pushed. It was the first thing I thought, anyway."

"That's quite the accusation."

"Maybe, but I didn't like the guy. Too . . . driven."

"Look who's talking."

"Raeder turned his consolation of Keyuri into something else pretty quick. He's as striking as she is, and perhaps she'd encouraged him, either knowingly or unwittingly. You know how people are."

"Lusty. Clumsy. Stupid." Now she stretched out her legs. She had a fine set of them, and knew it.

"They no doubt hoped they could be discreet about the whole thing, but nothing is secret in an expedition camp. There was no evidence of murder, and ordinarily none of it would be my business. But then she began to look frightened."

"Of what?"

"Raeder. I think there's some Germanic dark spot on the man's soul. He didn't just want to possess her, he wanted to consume her, or hurt her, to make her a kind of slave. I warned him to be careful and he exploded at me, warning me off."

"Is that so surprising?"

"No . . . but the change in his personality, the switch from dignity to rage, was so complete that I began carrying a loaded pistol even in camp. There's something dark in him beyond the usual Nazi bravado. I was afraid he'd try something violent. Finally Keyuri crept to me at night and pleaded for rescue. She . . . showed me her body. There were cuts and burns and she feared for her life."

Calloway gave him a sideways glance.

"I decided to fire him. But he was stirring the others against me, complaining I was trying to steal his woman, this fragile widow, and people began choosing sides. I feared it would rip the camp apart, and possibly result in violence. I . . . was wary of Raeder."

"Chicken, you mean. And it's been eating you ever since."

Hood frowned at the assessment but didn't dispute it. "So one night I simply took her and fled with some of the animals, leaving a note that my financial support of the expedition was over. Some blamed me for their failure to complete their scientific objectives. Raeder felt humiliated. And it was worse than that."

Beth was enjoying the tale now, absorbed without pretending sympathy. Two men, one woman? Old story. "Worse how?"

"I fell in love with Keyuri myself. And eventually we made love, but we were all mixed up. The expedition had been derailed. She felt guilty about whether she might have played a role in the death of her husband. She was angry at Raeder, but embarrassed at having embarrassed him as well. The victim began to feel like the culprit. So one night she left me, too. It took quite a while to get over it."

"And you are over it? This has nothing to do with why we're flying to Tibet?"

"The last I heard, she'd entered a Buddhist nunnery."

"So you're going back to salt the wound." It was a judgment. "Good move, college boy."

"I'd just like to set things right."

"You can't set things right. That's the whole point of history."

"Well, this history is what you're flying to, which is what you wanted to know. And maybe I can write the future."

"What does that mean?"

"Keyuri is still there, as far as I know. I'm going back so Kurt Raeder doesn't hurt anyone else, ever again."

18.

Hood's Cabin, Cascade Mountains, United States.

September 4, Present Day.

The last home of Benjamin Hood was a swaybacked cabin of weathered gray logs, its chinking as gapped as the teeth of a punch-drunk prizefighter and its mossy roof shaggy as a bear. The place listed like the Titanic, and Rominy thought its intention was to sink back into the earth. Her new property was not shelter, it was a trauma victim in need of emergency infusions from Home Depot.

Jake once more opened the pickup door from the outside-the need to do so made it seem like they were on some kind of ludicrous date-and then dug a lantern out of the toolbox in the bed of the pickup. While he did that, Rominy burrowed behind the seats to get the first aid kit again to re-dress her knees. A wink of brass caught her eye. It was almost entirely hidden under his camping gear, tucked at the edge of a floor mat. She instinctively reached. It was a small shell casing for a bullet, she saw, empty of powder.

Jake said he didn't have a gun. A leftover from an earlier owner or outing? She considered asking but he was preoccupied in the toolbox. The casing tickled her memory, but she wasn't sure why. She pocketed it for later.

"Come on, heiress!" He swung the lantern to help beat a path through high weeds and blackberries to the cabin's sagging porch. When Rominy stepped up, a piece of deck broke through. Something furtive skittered away. Great.