Ch 14 - The Guilt Of A Victim

There is no need to describe the stops we made

before reaching our destination, the scorching

temperature that hit my face when I went down the

plane's staircase, or even the bureaucracy that goes on

when arriving anywhere. What is of interest, though, is

the description of the beautiful mountains that

surrounded the background of the scenery, as well as the

diverse culture that we had so little time to enjoy and be

a part of. Jacob Keene immediately set off in search of

the president while we dined at a shopping center

restaurant on Dock Road. As we had agreed, he soon

reappeared, bringing with him the elderly Mr. Frost, who

was still trembling slightly. Amidst celebratory shouts

from the soccer fans surrounding us in that Scottish pub,

we started talking again:

182

— So, Mr. President...we were right, you did

want us to bring the samples to Inaccessible Island? — I

introduced.

Sitting before me, the Dean had a low frown and

blinked as if weighing the gains and losses of speaking

openly. Fearing that he had not heard me amidst the

deafening sound of those who yelled watching humans

kick a ball, I thought about repeating the question, but

the idea sounded offensive. At the end of what might

have been two whole minutes, he finally nodded and

returned the customary smile to his sympathetic face,

which was already suffering from the sagging skin that

accompanies old age. Then, he answered me:

— Yes, Kevin. And it's good to see that you still

remember the titles from the library.

— That's very kind of you, sir, but it was actually

Lucy who noticed that there was something strange in

the message you sent us.

— Well, well, our little girl inherited her father's

immense intelligence, I see! — he observed, turning his

face to Lucy, whose cheeks were now pink with

embarrassment. Frost's tiny eyes then rested on Keene,

and he asked him:

— And you, our good Dr. Keene, were kind

enough to escort these children here then, eh? — Keene

simply replied with a close-lipped smile, just to confirm

the fact. Feeling that something else should be said, I

added:

183

— Actually, Dr. Keene paid for our tickets so that

we could come.

— He did, didn't he? — The dean's eyes locked

onto Keene's for a moment, as if they could read his

thoughts. So small was the opening that his eyelids still

gave him, no sign of a sclera could be seen, only the

pupil and the iris, as deep blue as the ocean. — Funny,

— he continued, without taking his eyes off the British

man, — I've ordered Allard to give you an envelope with

the sum sufficient for the tickets and other additional

expenses.

Keene remained impassive, despite the strange

direction the conversation was taking. — Perhaps

he's forgotten...young people today can be as

absentminded as us, old people, can't they, Dr. Keene?

— Certainly, — answered the other.

Left out of sense and reason, Lucy and I

exchanged discreet glances, not yet understanding what

was happening there. Slowly turning his face toward us,

he enunciated his words:

— As you said, I would like that evidence, and

yes, children, I call it evidence, not samples, to be taken

to Inaccessible Island, where it will be safe.

— Safe? — Lucy said. — Is there any danger for

them?

— You know, this is not the first time that

Anthony has found what he was looking for. It was only

the first time that he would bring home convincing

184

evidence. Unfortunately, it's been a while that anything

that is brought back has been misplaced or simply

destroyed. By the way, Jacob; I can call you Jacob, can't

I? Of course I can, after so many years of seeing your

face in the corridors...I heard from Allard that you

brought an important piece of evidence in your

backpack. Surely you have it with you?

— Oh, I'm afraid that when we were fleeing in a

wooden boat about to be torn to pieces, some seawater

splashed on the sample. The damage was, unfortunately,

irreparable.

— What? — shouted Lucy, rising from her chair

and staring firmly into Keene's face. — Are you saying

that the only thing we could use to give some dignity to

my father's memory has been destroyed? — This

outburst of enthusiasm on Lucy's part would have been

very frightening, had it not been for the huge wave of

shouts that followed her question, all celebrating a

scored goal.

— Now, calm down, little girl, — Keene

returned, pulling a round-rimmed pair of glasses from

his pocket over his nose. — Was it my fault that the

water got into the backpack? Wasn't it you, Kevin, who

left it open after taking my binoculars? And wasn't it on

your orders, Lucy, that he unzipped it?

Thinking about Keene's questions and slowly

bringing her gaze to the floor, Lucy sat down again. I

was also thinking now, and the conclusion was obvious

185

— it was my fault what had happened. I opened the

backpack and exposed its contents to the wild waves that

battered our tiny boat that night. All was lost; Lane was

dead, and his memory would be buried in the empty

coffin that would bear his name. We were both defeated.

I'm sure we looked defeated, too. With the silence of the

end of the game, with the men now seeking animation in

quieter things like drinking and contemplating their

miserable lives, the president went on to say:

— Now, it's a huge shame indeed what happened,

Jacob, but you know what? You don't have to feel so

blue, children. There is more evidence. — I felt Keene

shudder slightly when he heard this.

— Other evidence? — cheered Lucy.

— Yes, indeed. As I said, much of it has been

mislaid or destroyed, but there is more. There are certain

pieces that Lane kept in his own pocket or that I brought

back myself when I was his assistant.

— And why did my father never show it to the

world?

— Well, of course he did. Do you really think he

would miss the opportunity to prove he was right about a

matter? Anthony spent very little time with you. In fact,

I'm afraid I also hired too many nannies instead of

educating you.

Fearing that Lucy was about to get up again, I

changed the direction of the subject:

186

— So...what exactly is there on Inaccessible

Island?

— A group of elders that Anthony met, and who

agreed to guard what he described to them as a treasure.

— Elders? You don't mean the...

— Yes, Kevin. The Island Council. It is to them

that one must give all personal details when landing

there, and I tell you, those old people ask the most

scrutinizing questions. We will have to ask their

permission to stay overnight, especially since they don't

know you two yet, but Lane's name will be enough to

make a good impression.

— Isn't it necessary to contact the Administrator

as well?

— Why, yes! And months in advance, inform

them of the date of the visit and its purpose. Try to

understand them, young man, outside civilization has

never done these isolated communities any good. —

Next to me, Lucy nodded her head in agreement.

— But you don't have to worry about that; I

myself dealt with the bureaucracy months ago and all

that is left for us now is to go there...in a month's time.

— In a month? — I repeated in frustration.

— That's when the next ferry to Tristan da Cunha

leaves. But cheer up, I have an expedition for both of

you in the meantime. — For some reason, Lucy raised

her face at this moment, rather interested in what she had

heard. Perhaps her mind, which had been focused only

187

on human affairs until then, had become more

sympathetic to reptile studies after all.

— What kind of expedition? — she asked with a

fire that lit up her brown eyes. The three of us showed

some surprise at seeing such cheer, but in no way was

this a bad sign. With a laugh, Frost complimented her:

— That's the spirit! Let me tell you, then, what

we were told. This account is quite recent, in fact, it was

a phone call I answered in the lab during the days you

were in Ambungi. The voice on the phone did not

identify itself, as of course it would not, given the details

of the case. — Before going on with the description,

Frost made sure he had our full attention, then leaned

forward and continued talking:

— There is a nature reserve called Hluleka,

surrounded by a few tiny villages. Recently, though, a

residential condominium has started to be built a bit too

close to the reserve, shall we say. — After a long wink

that reinforced the irony of the sentence, the story

continued:

— The surroundings are not finished yet, but the

builders of the complex found some pretty odd tiny

animals on the verandas that had their lights on. They

were described as the offspring between a snake and a

turtle. — I reacted then, saying:

— But that's...

— Bizarre, — Lucy added.

188

— I agree, children, but you know from

experience that you can't dismiss unusual reports. Here

are the details we have collected and the exact location

of the event, — concluded the president, handing me an

information sheet.

As soon as I grabbed the document, Jacob Keene

jumped up from his chair and ordered:

— Excellent, thank you for the information, Mr.

Frost; we will leave immediately.

— It's great to see such a good mood, Dr. Keene,

but I'm afraid we should stay here overnight so that the

children can get some rest, and in the morning, we will

leave, — Frederick Frost replied with a significant

emphasis on the word "we".

— Nonsense, — Keene replied with a forced

smile. — You know how children are, they have endless

energy. You see, if at your age you could make it through

the trip without having a stroke, I'm sure they'll be fine.

— Saying this, he snatched the documents and dashed

towards the door as we jumped up to follow him through

the crowds flooding the Cape Town International

Airport. Leaving the gate of the restaurant, the three of

us took turns looking for the man, but the place was

insanely busy with people. Lifting her eyes further, Lucy

pointed to a spot among the groups scrambling to find

their counters and luggage. Following the direction she

was pointing, I identified the glint of Keene's hair, too

drenched with the gel he was using to smooth out his

189

waves. Heading for the airport exit, Keene looked more

suspicious than ever, as if he planned to steal the details

of the expedition from us. We, too, waded through so

many people, dodging elbows and suitcases flying

around in luggage carts, leaving Frost far behind.

Looking at him for a second, I saw the dean making a

monumental effort to keep up with us, but his breath

would not allow it anyway. In the next instant, a few

children came running up to him and tripped him up,

before disappearing into the crowd once more. Without

even realizing what had hit him, the president went

unceremoniously to the ground, leaving only us to

retrieve the document. When I looked again, the gel

glow was already close to the exit, which also meant,

close to being lost forever. Outrunning me, Lucy shot

between the last people blocking our way; on her face, a

slight expression of anger and determination and she too

disappeared from my view. Eventually, after getting

through all the jungle that was that wild place, I reached

what could only be called a clearing — a space in the

middle of that urban forest, near the gates of the airport,

where Lucy was firmly holding Keene's right arm.

Reaching them at last, I heard her say with rapid

breathing:

— Why...were you going to steal...the expedition

documents?

— Steal? Just because I'm faster than you doesn't

mean I was stealing anything!

190

— Then why didn't you wait for us?

— Because I don't want that rheumatic slug to go

on this trip. Look behind you; he hasn't caught up with

us yet! — Lucy grabbed Keene's arm even tighter at that

moment, before looking back, just to make sure he

wouldn't run away. I know this because he screamed in

pain at the same instant. Unfortunately, he was right —

we saw no sign of the dean, even though we waited for a

while.

— Well, give me those papers, — Lucy growled,

snatching the expedition details from Keene's grasp. —

Let's go back and see what happened to Mr. Frost. He

might want to repeat my question to you. — With that,

she released his arm, which Keene was now massaging

with a bitter expression. Slowly making our way back

through the bustling crowd, we found Frost answering a

call on his cell phone. With his back to us, he had his left

hand brought to the back of his neck, as if a great deal of

worry afflicted him. Turning towards us, still holding the

phone to his ear, he had the marks on his face now even

more outlined.

— Mr. Frost? What happened? — I asked, afraid

to know the answer.

— Anthony's lab...it...

— Yes? — encouraged Lucy.

— It...it was destroyed.

— What? — we asked in unison.

191

— Allard said that... a yellow truck drove into the

walls and destroyed the building.

— Yellow? Was it Dave Young's? — I worried.

— Yes, Kevin, but he was not inside the vehicle.

Someone had stolen the truck hours before. I ... I need to

get back to Athlios and sort this out. — Staring into

Keene's eyes, he then concluded:

— Go to Hluleka without me. It'll be fine. After

all, I have the master builder's phone number and I'll be

in touch. — Frowning his forehead and the muscles

around his mouth, he turned his back on us and left again

for the counter, tapping his feet as he walked.

We had an expedition to go on; just the three of us.