César suddenly appeared and, without invitation, sat next to Collins. “See passport.”
Collins reached into his bag and produced his American passport, which César flipped through, then copied Collins’ name and passport number onto his growing roster. He looked at the pilot. “I see you one time.”
“I have been here before.”
“Sí. This time you stay.”
Collins nodded.
“I have good room for you.” He tapped Collins’ epaulettes. “You important man.” He laughed.
Collins smiled. “I am a pilot.”
“Sí, you have travel permits?”
Collins looked at Brodie, who said, “I think I left them in my other plane.”
Taylor said to César, “We just decided at the last minute to come here.” She then spoke to him in Spanish, and César listened, then responded. Taylor said to Brodie, “We were not allowed to fly here without a permit, so we must leave—or pay a fifty-dollar fine.” She added, “Per person, per day. Pilot included.”
“If we leave, do we get our money back for the room?”
“Clark, darling, just pay the fine.”
“Okay.” He looked at César. “We’ll pay for one day.”
“Pay now.”
Brodie pulled out his wallet and counted out a hundred and fifty dollars. Obviously César had learned how to make a few extra bucks on his government-regulated national park job. Therefore it shouldn’t be a problem for Brodie and Taylor to rent a boat without a guide. This was César’s World, and he made the rules.
César pocketed the money, then eyed the bowls of mush. “You no like?”
Brodie said to him, “My wife and I would like to rent a boat, and we’ll take that with us.”
César nodded. “Boat and guide. Five dollar.”
Collins had said it was a dollar, but César was on a roll and he knew suckers when he saw them. He also knew he wasn’t going to get an extra euro from the German tourists, so today was payday. Brodie said to him, “We don’t need a guide.”
“Need guide.” César said something to Taylor, who translated, “It’s the law.”
“So is the permit.” He said to César, “Twenty dollars. No guide.”
But César seemed adamant on this point. “No guide, no boat.”
“Sounds like the Pemón guides have a strong union.”
César spoke to Taylor, who translated: “It’s a safety issue.” She added, “He would be responsible if we got lost or hurt.”
“How could we possibly get hurt in the jungle?”
César did not reply.
Well, they could steal the boat, or up the offer to a hundred bucks, but either solution would arouse suspicion. Or they could take the guide upriver and feed him to the piranha. He hadn’t come this far to run into bureaucratic bullshit. He said to César, “We are bird-watchers. We need silence.”
César shook his head.
Well, they’d come to an impasse, so Brodie said, “We’ll think about it. Meanwhile, Captain Collins would like to see his room.”
César stood, as did Collins, who took all three bags, as per instructions, with no help from César.
Taylor smiled at Collins. “We’ll see you for lunch, John.”
He returned the smile, and he and César walked off toward the guesthouses.
Brodie looked at Taylor. “Do you think we’ll see Collins or those bags again?”
“We will very shortly if we can’t get a boat.” She added, “And if we do get a boat, we will not be returning here with a bird.”
“Right.” Brodie suggested, “Let’s go down to the river. I need to walk off that breakfast.”
“All right…” She stood and they began walking through the village toward the river.
Taylor said, “We are not stealing a boat.”
“No, but maybe we can buy a boat from a local who doesn’t care about the rules.”
They continued down the slope, and they could now see the small, murky river. The tepui rose up on their right.
Taylor asked, “Can I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“I think the gods who live on that tepui are telling us to get the fuck out of here.”
Brodie smiled. “You may be right.”
“We’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty, Scott, and we have been very lucky so far. We’ve seen and learned enough here and in Caracas to make a convincing case that Kyle Mercer’s camp is about ten miles up that river. I will take a few photos of you standing on the riverbank, pointing upriver. Okay? Then we go back to the village, find Captain Collins, get on his plane, and get the hell out of here before people from that camp come to Kavak.” She asked, “Sound rational?”
“It does.”
They reached the bank, and Brodie stopped and looked at the river, which was