‘If soldiers turned back every time they had a bad feeling, they’d never leave the barracks. So yeah, I’m still coming with you.’
‘Just checking. Fortune, does he know anything else?’
The Congolese questioned the villager further. ‘Sadly, no. But he wishes us good luck.’ The old man gave her a smile that was not especially reassuring.
She noticed that Rivero was holding his camera on her, hoping for a quotable line. ‘Let’s hope we’re the first to come back, then,’ was the best she could manage as she tied her hair into a ponytail, ready to begin.
Half an hour later, the expedition set out.
Nina sat at the lead vessel’s bow, watching the jungle rise around them. Nakola was on the edge of the Congo basin, and from here on the region became much wetter. The river was unusual in that it eventually drained into Lake Edward to the east rather than the mighty Congo itself, which suggested it could have been used both by Solomon and the empire of Sheba to reach Zhakana, but it also meant they were travelling against the current. With both boats fully loaded, they wouldn’t make much speed on the outward journey.
Fortunately, the waters were placid and slow-moving. She took out a GPS handset to check their position. ‘If the lost city’s where the map room said, then it’s thirty-two kilometres in that direction.’ She pointed ahead, slightly off the present path of the river.
Eddie looked across at the nearest shore to judge their speed. ‘We’re doing maybe five kph. That’s, er…’
‘Six and a half hours to get there,’ she told him, doing the mental arithmetic in a blink.
‘If the river’s straight. Which it isn’t. And if there aren’t any waterfalls. Which there probably are. We’ll be lucky to get there before nightfall.’
Lydia and Fisher were on the row behind. ‘Only thirty-two kays?’ said the former. ‘Can’t believe it hasn’t been found if it’s so close.’
‘You can pass thirty-two feet from something in jungle like this and never see it,’ Nina replied. ‘There’s a reason the Atlantean temple in Brazil and the city of Paititi in Venezuela were lost for so long.’
Fisher took out a laminated chart. ‘I had a satellite map made before we left Israel,’ he said, unfolding it. Wemba, sitting on the next row back, peered at it with interest. A bright yellow line showed the route to take at each of the numerous forks where tributaries merged. ‘The river definitely isn’t straight, but it looks pretty easy to navigate.’
Eddie glanced back. ‘Were the satellite photos taken at the same time of year as now?’
‘I don’t know, but we’re almost at the equator, aren’t we? It shouldn’t make a difference.’
‘You still get seasons at the equator. If you’re in the jungle, they’re basically wet, and really wet. What’s a river on your map might be a lake now — or it might be dry land.’
‘At least if we get lost, Howie can send up the drone to see which way to go,’ said Lydia, swatting in irritation at insects.
‘How long do its batteries last?’ Eddie asked.
‘We’ve got plenty of spares and everything we need to keep it charged up, don’t worry,’ Fisher said. ‘Same for all our gear. Cameras, mics, laptops — they won’t run out of juice.’
‘You brought bloody laptops into the jungle? We’re not at Starbucks.’
‘Actually, we do our preliminary editing and sound mixing on them in the field,’ said the director, becoming defensive. ‘The drone’s even controlled from one. Plus, we need them to back up all our media every day. If a camera gets damaged or, God forbid, lost out here, we can’t exactly go back and reshoot anything.’
Eddie shrugged. ‘That’s a lot of stuff that might go wrong or break.’ He turned away, shaking his head. ‘Bet it’s not even bloody waterproofed,’ he whispered to Nina.
‘They do know what they’re doing,’ she said with a little smile. ‘Believe it or not.’
Fortune guided the boat onwards, Paris at the tiller of the second behind them. The vegetation grew thicker, drooping branches dipping into the water like grasping hands. Before long, it became impossible to make out the surrounding terrain beyond the dense green curtains. The air filled with the rich, cloying scent of rot, dead flora and fauna alike rapidly decaying in the warm, humid environment. ‘Ah. There’s a smell I haven’t missed,’ said Nina, wrinkling her nose.
‘Easy to see who’s in the jungle for the first time,’ Eddie remarked, checking on the documentary crew. Most were reacting far more expressively to the scent, Howie the only one who appeared unperturbed. ‘The kid doesn’t seem to mind it.’
‘Maybe it smells like his dorm room.’ They both grinned.
The boats continued on up the snaking river. An hour passed, two, more, the unchanging view and the plodding chug of the outboards as wearing as the incessant attention of insects. Nina checked the GPS again. ‘Halfway there,’ she announced.
‘We should stop for a break soon,’ said Eddie. ‘Dunno about you, but I could use a piss.’
‘Charming,’ Lydia muttered behind him.
Nina looked at her watch. ‘It’s past noon, so we should eat too.’ She searched the banks for somewhere to put ashore. ‘If you see any—’
‘Hold it,’ Eddie interrupted, raising a hand.
Fortune immediately dropped the outboard’s throttle to idle, Paris following suit in the other boat. ‘What is it?’ the Congolese asked.
‘Rough water ahead. You see it?’
‘Yes, I do. Waterfall?’
‘Probably. Stop the engines so we can hear.’
Fortune shut down his outboard, as did Paris. With the boats silenced, a new sound became audible over the chitterings of bugs and birds: a deep, hissing rumble. ‘Definitely a waterfall,’ said Nina.
‘Going up or down?’ asked Rivero from the other boat.
The question drew him mocking looks. ‘We’re going upriver, and water flows downhill — what do you think?’ said Fisher, smirking.
The tubby cameraman huffed. ‘All right, Jeez. I’m not a hydrologist.’
‘Fortune, we’d better take a look and hope there’s an easy way we can get to the top of it,’ said Eddie.
‘When you say, “get to the top”,’ Fisher said uncertainly, ‘I’m assuming you mean on land.’
‘No, we’re going to flip up it like a salmon. Course I bloody do!’
‘You’ve seen the movie Fitzcarraldo, right?’ Nina asked. With every member of the documentary crew either a film school graduate or having ambitions of working in Hollywood, she was not surprised that they had, or at least pretended to have done so. ‘We’ll have to pull the boats up to the top of the waterfall.’
‘Sure, that’ll be easy,’ said Lydia, unimpressed.
‘Six to a boat, should be doable,’ Eddie told her. ‘So long as we can find a slope that’s not too steep.’
The engines started up again, Paris and Fortune bringing the boats side by side. It did not take long before the rumble of falling water became audible even over the outboards. Rounding a bend, the source of the noise came into sight. Fisher shouted across to the other boat. ‘Jay! You getting that?’
Rivero already had his camera rolling. ‘You bet,’ he replied. He stood for a better view, only for Paris to yell for him to sit again as the boat rocked.
The waterfall was not especially high, around forty feet, but was near-vertical where the upper river cascaded over a cliff. A white mist masked the churning waters at its base. ‘Okay,’ said Nina, ‘it’s very pretty, but how are we going to get up it?’
Eddie was already searching the shores, Fortune and Paris doing the same. ‘Over there!’ the latter shouted, pointing to the right.