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Authors: Matt Dickinson

BOOK: The Everest Files
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Kami plucked out the money and counted it out onto his sleeping bag. The cash had that enticing, sharp, musty and metallic smell of brand new notes. Each of the fifty dollar bills was crisp and clean, he noticed, so unlike Nepali rupee notes which were invariably scuffed or torn.

He put five hundred in a pile, then made another. That was now one thousand dollars and he stopped at that point and looked questioningly at Brennan.

‘I thought about what you did up there,' Brennan shrugged. ‘I figure you deserve more.'

Two more piles stacked up before Kami was done.

‘Two thousand dollars should put a smile on your face,' Brennan said.

‘Yes, sir. Thank you very much.'

‘I just don't want you to be … disappointed about the way things worked out,' Brennan said, hesitantly.

Kami hung his head. He knew exactly what Brennan was talking about.

‘And ... I wanted to be sure that you were happy.'

‘I am happy, sir. Really.'

Kami picked up his wallet to place the money inside; as he did so a few items fell out onto the sleeping bag – his identity card, a folded letter from Shreeya – and the business card the journalist had given him at Namche.

Brennan was on it in a flash.

‘What's this?' he asked. He examined the card closely, the blood running out of his face. ‘Why have you got this?'

‘Erm ... well. You see … '

‘I don't see, Kami!' Brennan's anger rose in a flash. ‘Please tell me you're not thinking about contacting this man. Not after everything that happened with Nima and Pemba'

‘No, sir, that would never happen ... '

‘Has he offered you money? For bad stories about me?'

Kami was silent.

‘This man is a scumbag, Kami. He writes lies and destroys people's lives. I want you to promise me that you will never, ever contact him.'

‘I promise. I promise.'

‘And you mustn't talk to Sasha either. Not about me and specially about … about you know what.'

‘I understand. Really.'

‘I hope so, Kami. I really do.'

Brennan put the card in his pocket and quit the tent.

Kami was shaken by the attack of rage and paranoia and it took him some time to recover.

But then he got to thinking about the money and he took it back out to stare at it again, wondering if he was dreaming this moment. Two thousand US dollars! A quick visit to one of the money changers in Namche Bazaar would convert it into more than twenty thousand rupees, a king's ransom in Nepal. Kami had rarely had possession of more than fifty rupees in his life so this instant fortune was almost terrifying in its scale.

But what it represented was something beyond price; with this bonus Kami could buy himself out of the marriage contract with Laxmi. The money meant a future with Shreeya was now possible. He stared at the clutch of bank notes, thinking how bizarre it was that a stack of paper could mean so much.

His mind turned to Shreeya and he felt the tender glow he always felt when he thought of her.

Then, turning the little shrine bell over in his hands, he was seized with a terrible surge of guilt.

How was he to explain to her that he still had the bell? He had sworn on the gods that he would never tell a soul that they had faked those summit shots, so what excuse could he come up with when she realised he still carried her gift?

A new idea struck him. He could throw the bell away, drop it off one of the suspension bridges into the Dudh Kosi river. But the bell was an integral part of the puja ceremony, a holy object. Discarding it in such bad faith would be an open invitation to bad fortune. The gods are ever watchful, Kami knew, and they would not let such a provocation go unpunished.

Next morning Kami begged paper and pen from Sasha. He wrote a letter to Laxmi's father, explaining that he was now in a position to pay back the dowry three times over as the man had demanded.

‘Please send me back a message to say that you accept the money,' he concluded, ‘and that the marriage contract is now over.'

He sealed up the money and letter in an envelope and sought out one of the expedition's two mail runners. Unencumbered by large packs, these fleet-footed athletes could cover in one day what would take an ordinary person four long days of toil.

Kami's package would be in Laxmi's father's hands within a matter of days. With luck, he would have a reply within the week.

Watching the mail runner set off down the glacier was an emotional experience for Kami and a whole bunch of fears and second thoughts assailed him. What if the man was robbed by bandits? An accident could befall him. He might tumble off a path and die in a ravine.

There was so much at stake.

He could have held onto the money, of course, waited a couple of weeks until the end of the expedition and sorted things out then. But he didn't want to wait. He feared his own conscience too much. If he got another attack of guilt like the previous night he might succumb to the urge to give the money back to Brennan, and then where would he be?

Back at square one, doomed to marry a girl he didn't love.

A pair of dark black ravens followed the runner as he loped away from Base Camp, sparring and dueling just a few metres above his head.

Kami hoped that was not a bad omen.

Chapter 11

The following day marked the beginning of the final stage of the great expedition; the dismantling of Base Camp and retreat back down the valley to Lukla.

Just eight days remained before the Westerners would fly out to Kathmandu.

The entire team set to it with great urgency. They had been up high for more than eight weeks and the desire to get out of Base Camp was universal. It had been eight weeks without family contact. Eight weeks on the unpalatable expedition diet. Eight weeks breathing in thin, cold, gritty air that left the human body unsatisfied with every breath.

No wonder everyone was desperate to escape.

Most of the Sherpas had been through this before and they didn't even need instruction. Strings of yaks began to arrive from Dingboche and Pheriche, Base Camp coming alive with a whole new shifting community of wild-looking herders and porters.

‘We don't want any man carrying more than twenty kilos,' Brennan ordered. Not that it made a shred of difference. The porters were paid by the kilo and they carried the maximum they thought they could bear.

They laughed at the Westerners who voiced sympathy for their plight. As far as they were concerned it was every man for himself and the more money to be made the better.

At last it was done. The expedition was packed up and ready to roll. All that was left on the glacier to show they'd ever been there were the raised tent platforms, now strangely deformed, the puja cairn with its wind-tattered prayer flags and the clouds of crows which fought for scraps of food.

Kami was happy to see the back of the place. Every step from now on would take him closer to a reunion with Shreeya. He took the glacier trek in his stride, feeling strong on the seven-hour descent.

On the first night of the pull out the expedition reached the yak herders' settlement at Gorak Shep. Kami was unloading his yaks when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

‘I got some news for you,' Tenzing told him with a beaming smile. ‘Jamling's doing alright.'

Kami felt a wave of relief wash over him.

‘He's alive?'

‘Yeah, we got an email from Kathmandu this morning,' he replied, ‘he's through the worst of it, sitting up and eating like a pig if I know him.'

Kami laughed out loud at the thought.

‘It was fluid on the lung,' Tenzing continued, matter of fact, ‘You were right to bring him down, it's been touch and go.'

‘When will they let him out?'

‘Soon. A few days' more recovery and that'll be it. They'll put him on a flight into Lukla.'

Lukla! The expedition would be there in five days, Kami knew. If all went well he could be reunited with Jamling before the week was out. It was a wonderful thought.

The news of Jamling's successful recovery gave Kami a huge boost.

Jamling was better! Alive and well. The good news about his mentor seemed to put everything in a new perspective and Kami felt himself re-energised both physically and psychologically as the team continued the journey out of the highlands.

Over the following two days the expedition finally left the world of rock and ice and re-entered a richer domain of vegetation, flowers and crops.

For two months they had been living in an environment with an incredibly limited range of smells. Now they delighted in the rich aromas of these lower altitude pastures; in the perfume of edelweiss and oleander, the delicate, loamy scent of earth, and the homely smell of baking chapattis leaking from the kitchens of the yak herders huts.

‘Grass! I never thought I'd get off on the smell of grass!' Sasha said with a ringing peal of laughter, sniffing the ground theatrically at the lunch stop and playing the clown.

Then it was back on the trail, the sentinel peak of Ama Dablam becoming visible for the first time as they passed through the gated barrier of the Sagarmatha National Park.

Tenzing called a halt to the trek just after 4 p.m. that day and the camp was erected as usual.

Kami was kept busy; Lopsang had him peel a mound of potatoes and then he was sent to buy some firewood and eggs. Finally, as darkness fell over the camp, Tenzing asked him to take two jerrycans down to the river to fill up with water. Kami did as he was asked and, by chance, his path back through camp took him past Sasha's tent.

As he walked alongside it she called to him.

‘Hey, Kami, how's it going with you?'

Kami came to the opening of the tent.

‘I'm OK,' he told her.

‘Come on in,' she told him. ‘But take your boots off.'

Kami unlaced his boots and left them in the foyer. Then he manoeuvred himself into the tent, sitting next to her on the soft surface of a sleeping bag. The tent was filled with a gentle glow and he saw that she had lit a night light and placed it in a glass holder.

‘I love candles,' she told him. ‘They make me calm.'

Sasha brought out a Thermos flask.

‘Would you like some tea?'

Kami nodded and she filled a plastic mug with the sweet fluid.

‘I heard about Jamling,' she continued, ‘sounds like he's going to pull through fine.'

‘Yes. Really good news,' Kami replied as he sipped the delicious tea. ‘He's a great man.'

‘I hope it cheered you up. You've been looking pretty miserable for a guy that just summitted Everest.'

Kami felt his guts turn over. It made him nervous to think he could be read so easily.

‘Lots of things on my mind,' he told her.

‘Want to share them with me?' she asked casually. ‘You know you can talk to me as a friend.'

‘I don't know … ' Kami stammered, ‘Maybe now is not the moment.'

‘Why not? I just sense this deep unhappiness in you, Kami, and I really think it would do you good just to talk to someone.'

Kami took a deep breath. Was this the moment? Was it right that he pour out his problems to this American girl? He felt an overbearing desire to spill out his miseries and fears.

But before he could start to talk he heard footsteps crunching across the frosted grass and he knew it would be Brennan before he even looked out of the front of the tent.

‘Knock knock,' the boss said. He kneeled in front of the tent and handed Sasha a small box. ‘Returning your headphones.'

‘Thanks.'

Kami guessed that Alex had spotted him slipping into Sasha's tent. Returning the headphones was just a ruse to see what was happening.

‘I'll see you later.' Kami told Sasha. He slipped on his boots.

‘Oh, OK.'

Kami walked across the field towards the mess tent but Brennan was waiting for him; ‘What's going on between you and Sasha?' he snapped.

Brennan's headtorch was shining right into Kami's face but he made no effort to switch it off. Behind that blazing beam Kami could feel the American's eyes boring into him in the most intrusive way.

‘What do you mean?' Kami managed to stammer. He felt his face flush scarlet.

‘I don't know. You tell me,' Brennan continued brusquely, ‘Just thought there was an … atmosphere between you two in that tent.'

‘No, sir. Not at all.'

‘Don't humour me!' Brennan hissed, suddenly more openly angry than Kami had seen him, ‘I've seen the weird way she looks at you.'

‘She's friendly to me,' Kami muttered, ‘that's all.'

‘What does she want from you, Kami? That's what I don't understand.'

‘Nothing, sir. Just talking.'

Brennan leaned in close to Kami. His words were measured, packing serious punch;

‘One thing you have to understand,' he told Kami slowly, as if talking to an imbecile, ‘anything you tell her will appear on the front page of a newspaper in the United States within twenty-four hours. You might think you can tell her things in confidence but that would be the biggest mistake of your life, Kami. You cannot trust her for a single second.'

‘But … '

‘You must not talk to her about what happened on the summit ridge. Not one word. Not even if she swears that it's just a conversation between two friends. Is that clear?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘I'm disappointed,' Brennan continued, ‘I thought I could trust her but now I'm not so sure.'

‘Don't say bad things about her!' Kami hissed. ‘Please! I don't want to hear this any more.'

Kami turned and ran blindly out of the camp, heading for the Dudh Kosi river. At the banks he paced back and forth, half wanting to go back and tell Sasha everything, half wanting to run and run through the night until he reached his village and Shreeya's embrace.

Confusion and mixed emotions buzzed in his head. He wanted to be loyal to Alex. But at the same time he wanted the truth to come out. He walked up and down the river bank in a daze, hardly caring where he ended up, lost in a miserable world of his own.

When the bell went for supper Kami decided to skip it.

The last thing he wanted to do was sit in that claustrophobic tent with its secrets and atmospheres and Brennan's constant stare.

It was more than he could bear.

The retreat continued, down past the village of Pangboche and then onto the steep zigzag trail for the five-hour trek to Khumjung. The pace was slowed by continuous snow, the track churned up into a muddy mush which drained the yaks of all their strength and filled the climbers' boots with freezing slush.

Then a message arrived for Kami – the mail runner had returned from his village and had a letter for him.

He ripped it open with trembling fingers, scarcely daring to read it.

It was short and absolutely to the point.

Kami,
I accept the money and absolve you of the marriage pact.
Chandra

Kami's heart thumped with joy to read those simple words. The one-line letter represented a whole new life for him and Shreeya.

He had done it.

They were free! After all the years of stress, of longing and frustration it had finally happened – the marriage pact was over and the future was theirs to decide.

A great wave of euphoria ran through him; he wanted to run and jump, to shout the news from the rooftops, to tell each and every one of the Sherpas about this great thing that had happened.

But he was shy to do it, so instead he ran through the village and made his way to the shrine that sat outside the local monastery.

He had to sweep snow off the top to begin the devotion but soon he was chanting a series of prayers to just about every god he could think of. The words tumbled out of him, a string of mantras honouring the great powers.

As the prayers ended, he took the shrine bell from his pocket, intending to ring it to end the puja.

But, as he held the tiny bell in his hands, a curious feeling of melancholy overwhelmed him and he hesitated to ring it.

Suddenly his mood crashed; he felt small and lost. He still had not resolved that big question. How to tell Shreeya that he had NOT placed the bell on the summit.

Would she understand? Probably yes, he decided. But that was not the end of the issue; it was the GODS who had to accept the story and Kami was not at all sure that they would. The whole idea had been to place the bell on the summit to gain the blessing of the gods for their union.

But, somehow, it had not happened. So nearly, but not quite. And Kami wasn't at all sure what that meant.

And what the implications would be for the future.

Kami never rang the bell. Chastened, he walked slowly back through the village where he found Kurt looking for him.

‘Come with me,' Kurt told him. ‘I've got something I want you to hear.'

Kami instantly feared the worst, that some sort of confrontation was in the offing as he was taken to the Westerners' mess tent.

As it happened he was offered a cup of cocoa and Kurt made an announcement. ‘I've got an idea. I'm wondering if we should take Kami back to the States with us.'

The words hung in the air for a beat or two before the table reacted.

‘Excellent!' Sasha clapped her hands in delight. ‘That's a great idea!'

‘What's your thinking, Kurt?' Brennan asked him in a cool tone.

Kurt sipped at his Thermos cup of tea and smiled warmly at Kami.

‘He's an important part of the story.'

‘Too right he is!' Sasha exclaimed.

‘I mean the two of you made it to the top together,' Kurt continued, ‘and I reckon it might be kind of neat if the two of you do some publicity together.'

‘Uh-huh.' Brennan nodded briskly.

‘It'll enrich the story. It's kind of heartwarming don't you think? I can just see the two of you on breakfast TV, telling it how it was up there on the summit ridge. The two of you achieving that ultimate dream!'

‘That is genius!' Sasha chimed, ‘the papers will love it, the magazines, everyone. It's the whole human dimension of the ascent. How the two of you started off hardly knowing each other and ended up as fellow summiteers and best buddies.'

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