The Quest: A Novel Part 10

Purcell said to them in the Amharic word that all reporters in Ethiopia knew, "Gazetanna." He added, "General Getachu." He tapped his left wrist where his missing watch should be, hoping they thought he had an appointment.

The two soldiers conversed for a second, then one of them disappeared inside the tent. The remaining soldier eyed Vivian's ointment-splotched face, then her legs beneath the shamma.

Vivian said softly, "I'm frightened. Are you?"

"Check with me later."

The soldier returned and motioned for them to follow.

They entered the pavilion, which Purcell noticed was much larger than Prince Joshua's. He noticed, too, that there were no ceremonial spears or shields in this spa.r.s.e tent-only field equipment, including two radios on a camp table. Coleman-type lamps barely lit the large s.p.a.ce.

The tent was divided by a curtain, and the soldier motioned for them to pa.s.s through a slit. It was darker in this half of the tent, and it took them a few seconds to make out a man sitting behind a field desk. The man did not stand, but he motioned toward two canvas chairs in front of his desk and said in English, "Sit."

They sat.

General Getachu lit a cigarette and stared at them through his smoke. A propane lamp hung above the desk illuminating his hands, but not his face.

As Purcell's eyes adjusted to the dim light he could see that Getachu wore a scruffy beard, and his head was bald or shaven. A tan line ran across his forehead where his hat had sat, and his skin was naturally dark, but further darkened by the sun.

Purcell had seen a photograph of General Getachu in an Ethiopian newspaper, and he'd noted that Getachu had the broader features of the Hamitic people and not the Semitic features of the aristocracy or the Arabic population. In fact, that was partly what this war was about-ancestry and racial differences so subtle that the average Westerner couldn't see them, but which the Ethiopians equated with ruler and ruled. Indeed, he thought, the Getachus of this country were getting their revenge after three thousand years. He couldn't blame them, but he thought they could go about it in a less brutal way.

He had dealt with the newly empowered revolutionaries in many countries, and what they all had in common was xenophobic paranoia, extravagant anger, and dangerously irrational thinking. And now he was about to find out how psychotic this guy was.

Getachu seemed content to let them sit there in his office while he perused the papers on his desk. Also on Getachu's desk was Vivian's camera, his wallet and watch, their pa.s.sports, and their press credentials, but he couldn't see what would have been their safe-conduct pa.s.s, issued by the Provisional Revolutionary government. It occurred to Purcell that Getachu had chosen to deal with that inconvenient doc.u.ment by destroying it.

Getachu lit another cigarette and took a drink from a canteen cup. He looked at them and asked with a slight British accent, "Why are you here?"

Purcell replied, "To report on the war."

"To spy for the Royalists."

"To report on the war."

"Spies are shot. If they are lucky."

"We are reporters, certified by the Provisional Revolutionary government, and we have a safe-conduct pa.s.s issued by the Derg and signed by General-"

"You have no such thing."

Vivian said, "We do." She asked, "Why have you arrested our colleague?"

He looked at her and said, "Shut up."

Again, Getachu let the silence go on, then he said, "You two and your colleague were in the Royalist camp."

Purcell replied, "We got lost. On our way here."

"You met your colleague Colonel Gann."

"He is not our colleague."

"You fled with him to escape the Revolutionary Army that you say you were trying to find."

"We fled to escape the Gallas." Purcell also pointed out, "We climbed this mountain to find you."

Getachu did not reply.

Purcell didn't think he should bother to explain the actual circ.u.mstances of what had happened. General Getachu had drawn his own conclusions, and though he probably knew they were not completely accurate conclusions, they suited his paranoia.

Purcell said, "We are here to report on the war. We take no sides-"

"You have a romantic notion of the emperor and his family, and of the ra.s.ses and the ruling cla.s.s."

Purcell thought that might be true of Mercado and maybe Vivian, and certainly of Colonel Gann, but not of him. He said, "I'm an American. We don't like royalty."

"So do you like Marxists?"

"No."

Getachu stared at him, then nodded. He said, "Colonel Gann has caused the death of many of my men. He has been condemned to death."

Purcell already guessed that, but he said, "If you spare his life and expel him, I and my colleagues promise we will write-"

"You will write nothing. You are all guilty by a.s.sociation. And you are spies for the Royalists. And you will be court-martialed in the morning."

Purcell saw that coming, and apparently so did Vivian, because she said in a firm, even voice, "My colleague, Mr. Mercado, is an internationally known journalist who has met frequently with members of the Derg and who has interviewed General Andom who is your superior. It was General Andom who signed the safe-conduct pa.s.s-"

"General Andom did not give Mercado-or you-permission to spy for the counterrevolutionaries."

Purcell tried another tack. "Look, General, you won the battle, and you've probably won the war. The Provisional government has invited journalists to-"

"I have not invited you."

"Then we'll leave."

Getachu did not reply, and Purcell had the feeling that he might be wavering. Getachu had to weigh his desire and his instinct to kill anyone he wanted to kill against the possibility that the new government did not want him to kill the three Western reporters. In any case, Colonel Gann was as good as dead.

Purcell had found himself in similar situations, each with a happy ending, or he wouldn't be here in this situation. He recalled Mercado's advice not to look arrestable, but he was far beyond that tipping point. He wasn't quite sure what to say or do next, so he asked, "May I have a cigarette?"

Getachu seemed a bit taken aback, but then he slid his pack of Egyptian cigarettes toward Purcell along with a box of matches.

Purcell lit up, then said, "If you allow me access to a typewriter, I will write an article for the International Herald Tribune and the English-language newspaper in Addis, describing your victory over Prince Joshua and the Royalist forces. You may, of course, read the article, and have it delivered to my press office in Addis Ababa along with a personal note from me saying that I am traveling with General Getachu's army at the front."

Getachu looked at him for a long time, then looked at Vivian, then at her camera. He asked her, "And if I have this film developed in Addis, what will I see?"

Vivian replied, "Mostly our journey from the capital to an old Italian spa... then a few photos of Prince Joshua's camp."

"Those photographs will be good to show at your court-martial, Miss"-he glanced inside her Swiss pa.s.sport-"Miss Smith."

Vivian replied, "I am a photojournalist. I photograph-"

"Shut up." He leaned forward and stared at her, then said, "On the far side of this camp is a tent. In this tent are ten, perhaps twelve women-those with Royalist sympathies, including a princess-and they are there for the entertainment of my soldiers." He pushed Vivian's camera across the desk. "Would you like to photograph what goes on inside that tent?"

Purcell stood. "General, your conduct-"

Getachu pulled his pistol and aimed it at Purcell. "Sit down."

Purcell sat.

Getachu holstered his pistol and said, as if nothing had happened, "And you, Miss Smith, can also photograph the Royalists that you saw hanging. And also photograph Colonel Gann's execution. And your friend Mr. Mercado's execution as well. Would you like that?"

Vivian did not reply.

Getachu stared at her, then turned his attention to Purcell and said, "Or perhaps, as Mr. Purcell suggested, he can write very good articles about the people's struggle against their historic oppressors. And then, perhaps, there will be no court-martial and no executions."

Neither Purcell nor Vivian replied.

Getachu continued, "The enemies of the people must either be liquidated or made to serve the revolution." He added, "You could be more useful alive."

Vivian asked, "And Mr. Mercado?"

"He was once a friend of the oppressed people, but he has strayed. He needs to be reeducated."

Purcell asked, "And Colonel Gann?"

"A difficult case. But I respect him as a soldier. And I have a certain fondness for the British." He explained, "I attended a British missionary school."

And apparently missed the cla.s.s on good sportsmanship and fair play, Purcell thought.

Getachu added, "The headmaster was fond of the switch, but perhaps I deserved it."

No doubt.

Getachu said, "Perhaps Colonel Gann can be persuaded to share his military knowledge with my colonels."

Purcell said, "I will speak to him."

Getachu ignored this and said, "Shooting a man-or a woman-is easy. I would rather see men broken."

Purcell had no doubt that Getachu was sincere.

Getachu said, "You may go."

Vivian said, "We want to see Mr. Mercado. And Colonel Gann."

"You will find them in the hospital tent."

Purcell took Vivian's arm and turned to leave, but Getachu said, "Before you go, something that may interest you."

They looked at him and saw he was retrieving something from the shadow beside his chair. Getachu held up a gold crown, encrusted with jewels. Purcell and Vivian recognized it as the crown of Prince Joshua.

Getachu said, "I allowed the Gallas free rein to hunt down the Royalists. All I asked in return was that they bring me the prince, dead or alive, along with his crown. And here is his crown."

Again, Purcell and Vivian said nothing.

Getachu examined the crown under the hanging lantern as though he were considering buying it. He set it down on his desk, then said, "Let me show you something else." He moved to the far side of the tent, and a soldier in the shadows lit a Coleman lamp.

Lying facedown on the dirt floor of the tent were three men, each naked. Getachu motioned for Purcell and Vivian to come near and they took a few steps toward the circle of light. They could see that the men's backs and b.u.t.tocks were streaked with blood as though they'd been whipped.

Getachu barked something in Amharic and the men rose to their knees.

Each man had a collar around his neck-like a dog collar-with a chain attached to it. In the lamplight, Purcell could make out three battered faces, one of which was that of Prince Joshua. His long aristocratic nose was broken, and his eyes were swollen almost shut, but the prince was looking at him and Vivian.

Getachu said, "You see, I did not shoot them or hang them as I thought I would. But if you look closely, you will see that the Gallas have castrated them."

Purcell kept looking at the prince's face, but Vivian turned away.

Getachu reached into the pocket of his fatigues and extracted a piece of bread, which he held to the prince's swollen lips, and said, in English, "Eat."

The prince bit into the bread. Getachu did the same with the other two men, who Purcell thought must be what was left of the prince's staff.

Getachu dropped the bread to the ground and said, "The Revolutionary government has executed nearly all of the royal family and many ra.s.ses, so they are becoming more rare. It is my idea to put them to some use." He further explained, "These men are now my servants, and they attend to my personal needs. When I am sick of looking at them-which will be soon-they will become the eunuchs a.s.signed to the tent of the women who are their loyal subjects." He added, "These men will also give pleasure to my soldiers who enjoy something different."

Vivian had turned her back to the scene, but Purcell continued to look at Prince Joshua, whose head was now bowed.

Getachu said to the prince, "Is this not better than death?"

The prince nodded his head.

Getachu again barked something in Amharic and the three men dropped to their hands and knees. Getachu produced a riding crop from the deep cargo pocket of his pants and moved behind the men. He said, "Colonel Gann's riding crop." He swung the leather crop across the prince's b.u.t.tocks and the man yelled out in pain. The soldier holding the lamp laughed.

Getachu delivered a blow to each of the other two men, who also cried out, causing the soldier to laugh louder.

Getachu put the crop away and said, "Much better than hanging or shooting. Better for me." He came around to the front of the men and made an exaggerated bow, saying to Prince Joshua, "Forgive me, Ras. I am just a simple peasant who does not know how to show proper respect to my master."

The soldier again laughed.

Getachu turned to Purcell and Vivian. "That will be all."

Purcell took Vivian's arm and they pa.s.sed through the curtain and out of the tent. Vivian was shaking and Purcell put his arm around her.

As they walked toward the hospital tent, she said in a breaking voice, "Those poor men... Frank... promise me..."

"That will not happen to us."

"He's insane... s.a.d.i.s.tic..."

"Yes." And he was history, getting its revenge. Purcell said, "But he's not stupid. He knows what he can get away with and what he can't get away with."