The Quest: A Novel

field equipment known to man, plus enough dried rations to last twice as long as the patrol. They also carried the best weapons the army could offer, and they had three radios if the feces hit the fan, as they said.
    Here, however, in the jungles of Ethiopia, they were very much on their own, and none of them knew the jungle, except maybe for Gann, and Purcell was beginning to have doubts about that. Also, the goal here was not recon; it was to find the Holy Grail of Holy Grails—
The
Holy Grail—and that was the only reason they were not heading for the French Somaliland border, which in any case was the other way.
    Days three and four were more trail walking, except now they had made their way west, and the jungle had become triple canopy, and it was hotter, more humid, and darker. The only good difference was that the underbrush had thinned out and they could wander off the claustrophobic trail if they wanted to and walk between the towering trees.
    Purcell told Gann, “As I said, the monastery would not be at the end of a trail. It could be that we need to walk off the trail and through the rain forest to find it.”
    Gann replied, “If that’s true, then what we are dealing with is a trackless expanse, in which any direction is possible, but only one direction will lead us to where we wish to go.”
    “Right. But maybe that’s the best way to cover some of these four thousand square kilometers.”
    Gann suggested a break and they sat and looked at the map, which showed the same sea of green ink as it had last time they looked at it.
    Gann was trying to determine what ground they had already covered, and he drew pencil lines on the map, saying, “We’ve gone in circles a bit, I think.”
    “In fact, that snake back there looked familiar.”
    “Hard to tell with snakes, old boy.”
    Vivian reminded everyone, “A rock, a tree, a stream. And perhaps a cluster of palm trees.”
    No one had been talking about those possible clues since Vivian mentioned them four days ago, but everyone had been at least alert to what seemed so important back in Addis.
    Here in the bush, however, the reality changed, or reality became altered. The mind played tricks, as it does in the desert or at sea. The eye sees, and the ear hears, but the mind interprets. They had been so thirsty the day before that they all kept spotting things that were not there, especially water.
    Also, they had not seen any signs of human presence since the first day when they’d found the wide trail. This was a good and bad thing. Humans were the most dangerous animals in the jungle, but the Grail seekers needed to go where other humans—Falashas and monks—had gone to meet. They had not even found evidence of a campfire or a dropped or discarded item made by man.
    Henry pointed out, “Father Armano did not walk for four or five days from the monastery to the fortress.”
    Gann said, “This priest was with soldiers who obviously knew the terrain, and they quick-marched this chap directly to the fortress and into his little cell.” He added, “But I am certain we are still within the area that we agreed at the spa would be the most likely territory for this monastery.” He further added, “That comports, too, with the travel time of the villagers to the meeting place.”
    Purcell commented, “I didn’t realize how big four thousand square kilometers was.”
    Mercado also pointed out, “For all we know, the monks picked a meeting place that was very far from their monastery. Maybe three or four days away.”
    Gann replied, “Well, I hope not.”
    Purcell said, “Let’s stick with the logical theory that the monks do not want to walk more than a day to meet the Falashas.” He added, “The monks are carrying
stone
knickknacks, for God’s sake.”
    “Quite right,” Gann agreed.
    Vivian was not much into theory or speculation, Purcell noticed, and she didn’t contribute to the men’s attempts to overthink and outthink themselves.
    Gann noticed this and said to her, “Should we be waiting for divine inspiration?”
    Vivian replied, “You can’t wait for it. It comes when it comes.” She added, “You can pray for it, though.”
    “I’ve done that.”
    “Try again,” she suggested.
    As for the other group dynamics, Purcell had noticed that Henry seemed to have lost interest in Vivian—or in impressing her. There is nothing like exhaustion, thirst, hunger, and fear to get the old libido and weenie down, Purcell knew.
    He hoped