"That's a problem, if you set your sights too high."
"I'm flexible," she said. "You'd be surprised."
"I might, at that."
A splash drew their attention to the riverbank, where a long reptilian tail was vanishing from sight.
"No crocodiles?"
"That's one thing, when you deal with living species," Remo said. "They don't play by the rules."
"Makes life more interesting," said Audrey. "What are your rules, Renton?"
"Live and let live," Remo said. "What goes around—"
"Is there a Mrs. Dr. Ward?" she interrupted him.
"Well, there's a candidate of sorts… "
"Sounds to me as if you still have… options."
"Those we have… until we die."
"I'm surprised."
"How so?"
"You seem the type a woman who would want to tie down for good."
"Most, or many women would. It's a certain instinct with them."
"I'm not most women," Audrey said.
"I'm picking up on that."
"I like perceptive men. They know what makes a woman tick."
"Is that so difficult?"
"You'd be surprised. I've had my share of 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am.'"
"Disgraceful."
"Which is not to say I'm out of touch with urgency."
"It never crossed my mind," said Remo.
"I mean, quickies have their place," she said. "In public, for example."
Remo smiled and shook his head. "I really couldn't say."
"You've missed a lot," said Audrey. "What you need is an accomplished tutor."
"I get wrapped up in my work," he said.
"You know the rule—all work… "
"You've got a point."
Her left hand dropped below the rail and out of sight, warm fingers lightly grazing Remo's fly.
"You, too."
A whistle sounded, and the Babi Kali swung toward shore. A sagging wooden dock thrust outward from the bank. On shore, a white nun in her fifties waited, flanked by half a dozen Malays.
"I should go and check on Safford," Audrey remarked.
"Sounds like a plan."
"I'll see you later, to continue our discussion."
"Looking forward to it," Remo said.
Dampar made Temerloh look like Times Square on New Year's Eve. The swaybacked pier groaned underfoot, as if it might collapse at any moment. There were about a dozen buildings visible, with jungle pressing close around them. The humidity had nourished jungle rot on anything that wasn't cleaned or painted frequently. The local "inn" consisted of eight cabins drawn up in a line to face the river, fifty yards back from the shore. The furnishings included steel-frame cots and camp chairs, folding tables, propane lamps and plenty of mosquito netting. The electric generator ran on diesel fuel and conked out periodically, without apparent reason. In addition to the cabins, there was a ramshackle trading post, a small infirmary, a one-room school and a communal dining hall.
Their host was a short, chunky Malay in his forties, squeezed into a well-worn polyester suit. His oily smile reminded Remo of a used-car salesman, but it turned out that he owned Dampar lock, stock and pesthole. He was generous with compliments when they arrived, and favored Audrey with a leer that would have had a hooker quoting prices. While a team of natives set about unloading their equipment from the Babi Kali, he conveyed them to their cabins.
One apiece, no roommates.
They were more or less on time, as punctuality is judged in Southeast Asia, and it was indeed too late for them to think of moving on. Night falls with startling swiftness in the jungle, great trees blotting out the better part of sunlight so that dusk is virtually nonexistent; dark and daylight are separated by a razor's edge.
Their evening meal was stew of some kind, served in plastic bowls, with home-baked bread and lukewarm coffee. Remo made the best of it, resisting a temptation to inquire about the meat. He would have gone for rice and vegetables instead, but there was no room service in Dampar, no special orders from the chef.
His fellow expedition members kept the conversation going for an hour after supper. Stockwell brought out his map and supplemented it with hand-drawn sketches, while Chalmers put in his two cents where he could. The Brit had obviously never hunted in the Tasek Bera, and he spoke in generalities, relating stories of ferocious tigers, quagmires baited with the rarest orchids and assorted other jungle horrors. Remo kept his mouth shut, met the big man's gaze when it was unavoidable and smiled at Audrey when her foot snaked out to toy with his beneath the table.
They broke up a little after 9:00 p.m., presumably to sleep, but Remo walked down to the dock. The Babi Kali had continued southward, toward Bahau and Segamat. Their expedition would be long gone by the time the old rust bucket turned around and started north again, the day after tomorrow.
Audrey found him by the water. Remo smelled her coming, bug repellent standing in for her traditional perfume. Instead of speaking first, though, he allowed her to "surprise" him.
"Penny for your thoughts," she said.
"You wouldn't get your money's worth."
"It can't be that bad. Here we are, one step away from the adventure of a lifetime. Man and woman in the wilderness."
"It's not exactly Eden where we're going," Remo told her.
"No. I'm glad we've got a man along who knows his serpents."
"Rule of thumb," he told her. "If it moves and breathes out here, don't touch it."
"That's no fun."
"Survival calls for self-control."
"Too bad. I had myself all primed for handling a big one."
"Be careful what you wish for," Remo said.
"I always am."
"You've heard the story of the turtle and the scorpion?" he asked.
"It doesn't ring a bell," she said.
"A turtle was about to cross the river, when he met a scorpion who asked him for a ride. 'I can't take you across,' the turtle said. 'You'll sting me, and I'll die.'"
"Smart turtle," Audrey said.
"The scorpion was thinking, though. He said, 'I will not sting you, Mr. Turtle, for I cannot swim, and I would surely drown.'"
"Makes sense."
"The turtle thought so, too. He let the scorpion get on his back and paddled out into the water. Halfway to the other side, he felt a sudden, burning pain, then numbness spreading through his limbs. 'Why did you sting me, Mr. Scorpion?' he cried. 'Now both of us will surely die.' The scorpion just shrugged and said, 'I couldn't help myself. It's in my nature.'"
"That's a lovely bedtime story. What's the moral?"
"I just tell the stories," Remo said, "I don't evaluate."
"Am I supposed to be the turtle?" Audrey asked. "That isn't very flattering."
"I could have said a swan. It all comes out the same."
"Are you the scorpion?"
"Could be."
"I don't think so."
"You haven't seen my stinger," Remo said.
"I'm looking forward to it, though. In fact, why don't we slip back to my cabin and—?"
"I wouldn't want to keep the neighbors up," said Remo.
"Never fear. I'm not a screamer."
"Maybe I am."
"Naughty boy." She hesitated, looking deeper into Remo's eyes. "Are you rejecting me?"
"Not even close," he said. "I'll have to take a rain check, though."
"Anticipation doesn't hurt unless you drag it out to long," she told him, turning back in the direction of the cabins. "This is a rain forest, you know."
"I'm counting on it," Remo said.
"In that case, pleasant dreams."
He stood beside the river for another twenty minutes, humming softly, keeping the mosquitoes at a distance, while he thought about the days ahead. One at a time, he told himself, and watch your back. Pike Chalmers would not be his only hazard on the trail, nor was he necessarily the worst.