The Quest: A Novel

who annoy him.”
    She stared at the hanging men. “Oh… my God…”
    “Ready?”
    She turned away and nodded.
    They approached the guarded entrance of the headquarters tent. Two soldiers carrying AK-47s became alert and eyed them curiously. They’d already sent the woman away, and they wondered why she’d returned. One of the men made a threatening gesture with his rifle, and the other motioned for them to go away.
    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 ceremonialspears or shields in this sparse tent—only field equipment, including two radios on a camp table. Coleman-type lamps barely lit the large space.
    The tent was divided by a curtain, and the soldier motioned for them to pass 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 passports, and their press credentials, but he couldn’t see what would have been their safe-conduct pass, issued by the Provisional Revolutionary government. It occurred to Purcell that Getachu had chosen to deal with that inconvenient document 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 pass 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 circumstances of what had happened. General