The Edge (8 page)

“We go now,” Zopa says. “Dark soon.”

This made me smile. Zopa's English was a lot better than that. Who was he trying to fool? Cagey monk.

We started down the treacherous scree with Zopa and Mom in the lead. Behind them were Elham, Aki, and Choma, followed by Rafe and Alessia, who were walking side by side—not easy on the loose rocks. I suspected, actually I hoped, that Rafe was trying to keep abreast of Alessia and that Alessia was not trying to stay next to Rafe. I followed behind. I'm not sure why, but it seemed like the most comfortable place. At least on this trip. I wasn't feeling the drive that I usually feel during a climb. The scramble. The push to be first. To lead. When you climb alone, you are always in front. And to be truthful, I wasn't feeling my best. I was either exhausted or else I was coming down with something.

Halfway down, we all turned on our headlamps. Two-thirds of the way down, it was pitch-dark. I stopped to readjust my pack and get a drink of water. There was no moon. A million stars hung in the black sky. Seven headlamps bobbed down the scree in front of me. I turned around and looked back at the cliff. I wondered if the
shen
was watching us. When I turned back around, I saw that one of the headlamps had stopped. I'd lost track of which light belonged to who (or is that
whom
, Vincent?). I figured the light belonged to Mom. I was sure she had plenty to say about Rafe and the other climbers, and we wouldn't really be able to talk at base camp. Tents have thin walls. I made my way toward her light slowly so we'd have plenty of space between us and the others. But it wasn't Mom.

“Is all okay with you?” Alessia asked.

“Yeah. Fine. Just hanging back. Thinking.”

“About Rafe?”

“Who?” I joked.

“The climber from Australia.”

“It was a joke.”

“Oh,” she said uncertainly.

I guessed the joke didn't translate from English to French. Or maybe people were more literal in France. Or maybe Alessia was simply nice and didn't understand sarcasm.

“I wasn't thinking about Rafe,” I told her, which wasn't entirely true.

“He is an oaf.”

“He's okay.” Now, this was a complete lie, because he was an oaf, but I wanted her to think that I was nice. I was finding it a lot easier to talk to her in the dark, picking my way across the scree, without having to look at her blue eyes.

“You have been climbing a long time?” Alessia asked.

“Since I could walk. And you?”

“Ten years.”

“Your parents didn't mind you coming all the way to Afghanistan to climb?”

“It is only my mother and I now, and this was not far for me to come. We live in Kabul. And I'm not alone out here.” She pointed toward the lights. “You know Elham, but did you meet Ebadullah in camp?”

“Yes.”

“They were sent to keep an eye on me and provide security for the climb.”

“I thought they were locals.”

“I'm certain they are, or were at one time, but they've been working for my mother since she arrived here.”

“What does your mother do in Kabul?”

“She is the French ambassador.”

I'd never met an ambassador, or an ambassador's daughter. What do you say to this? I said, “No kidding.” Which I guess was marginally better than
wow.

“She has had this posting for two years now,” Alessia continued. “Before this, we were in Argentina. It was there that I really learned to climb.”

“Aconcagua?”

“Yes. The Stone Sentinel.”

Aconcagua is one of the seven summits, the tallest mountain on each continent. At one time, I wanted to top all seven, but after Everest, I wasn't sure about this goal.

“It is a simple climb,” Alessia said. “A walk up, really.”

“Twenty-two thousand eight hundred and forty-one feet is a dangerous climb even if it is a walk up,” I said.

“Breaking your ankle is the only real danger. It is like this.” She pointed at the scree.

She was moving across the loose rocks remarkably well, with a light step. Not unlike a
shen
.

“I saw a snow leopard today when I got here.” I couldn't seem to stop myself from trying to impress her, which made me feel a little more sympathetic toward Rafe. She must have thought that all guys were idiots.

“No!” she exclaimed.

“On the cliff face. It was a long ways off. Zopa saw it too.” I'm not sure why I added this last part, but I suspect it was because I wasn't sure if she actually believed me about Everest after Rafe's comments.

“I have never seen one in the wild. They are very rare here, but I've heard their population has increased because of the war.”

“Why would that be?”

“The war did not touch the Pamirs. The hunters were fighting, leaving the mountains in peace.”

“Then I guess this is a good place for a Peace Climb.”

“You are very lucky to have seen one. I am climbing next to you, with your luck. If you do not mind.”

“I do not mind at all,” I said.

RAFE GAVE ME
the stink-eye as Alessia and I arrived at camp fifteen minutes behind everyone else. It was all I could do not to shoot him a victorious she-walked-with-me-not-you-big-jerk grin. There were now two campfires burning. One of them had a water kettle hanging over the flames. Most of the tents were lit from inside, looking like colorful lanterns against the darkness.

“Gather round,” Phillip shouted, which was ridiculous because we were all standing within twenty feet of him and Cindy. “Now that we have all the climbers, I thought it would be a good idea to have a meeting to work out what we're going to do.”

“But before we begin,” Cindy said, “do any of you have a cell signal?”

Phillip tried to hide his irritation—not very successfully. Several people fished their cells out. All of them shook their heads.

“I can't believe this!” Cindy stamped away to their tent and disappeared inside.

“All right, then,” Phillip said. “Back to the meeting. This shoot is pretty simple. In a few days, I will be filming your group climb in the Pamirs. The spot will be determined by your collective climbing skills, weather, and other factors. This is not a climbing competition per se, but in another sense it is a competition. There are teams all over the world climbing on the same day that we are. All of the climbs will be filmed. All of them will get airtime in Plank's two-hour special, but some will get more airtime than others. I want our team to be that team that gets the extra airtime. We've all traveled a long way to be here. It would be a shame to see our climb, or most of it, on the cutting room floor.”

“How do we control that?” Rafe asked.

“By stunning filming, interesting interviews, and incredible set shots. You'll notice I have two campfires burning. One is for cooking; the other is for interviews. Beautiful light. We'll start the interviews tonight.” He looked at Alessia. “How much airtime you get in the final cut will in large part depend on how well you interview. It's all about story.”

It was actually all about how you looked and what you sounded like. I'd been up that wall before, and I wasn't sure I wanted to climb it again.

“What is a set shot?” Alessia asked.

I was wondering the same thing.

“It's a video sequence that may have nothing to do with your primary climb. We'll insert it because it looks good.”

“In other words, it's fake,” I said. It was out of my mouth almost before I thought it.

“Not at all. You'll actually be climbing. It's just that where you're climbing may not have anything to do with the real climb. And believe me, I know most of the other directors on this project. They are all going to be shooting raw set shots, hoping to get them into the final cut. It's the difference between a minute or a minute and a half of airtime and five or even seven minutes of airtime.”

Phillip was obviously shooting for the seven-minute side of this equation.

“Before we left, I managed to get ahold of some top-secret drone images of the area.” Phillip gave us a conspiratorial grin. “Don't ask me how, but I have some friends in the Pentagon from some of the films I've directed. And I've found the perfect spot for our first set piece. I've sent my film crew out to scout the location.”

I looked around and realized that JR and the crew were not in camp.

“Where are they?” Mom asked.

“Obviously they aren't back yet,” Phillip answered.

“How far away was this place?”

“Five or six miles. I expected them back by now, but I'm sure they'll be along soon. No need to panic.”

Mom did not look panicked; she looked irritated. With good reason. The Wakhan Corridor was no place to be wandering around at night. Five or six miles on this terrain in the dark could be lethal. The film crew were all fit, but the only one with any substantial climbing experience was Ethan. I wasn't sure how good his navigation skills were in the dark in a place he had never been before.

“Do you have the secret drone images?” Mom asked.

This was a test question. I knew my mom well.

“In my tent, but I don't see how—”

Wrong answer.

“Get them,” Mom said.

Phillip gave her a dazzling smile. “You are not going after them.”

Mom did not return the smile.

Phillip pointed the smile at us, ignoring her completely. “I guess I should clarify who's in charge of this expedition. That would be me. As the director, I'm calling the shots here. It's not necessarily the job I want, but I'm the most experienced and very good at it. I'm not going to have my climbers running around in the dark like decapitated chickens. We can't afford to have our climbers injured before the climb.”

“And if something happens to the film crew before the climb, you will have no video.” This little bit of wisdom was from Zopa. “Get the photographs and the topography maps.”

No trouble with Zopa's English now.

Phillip attempted to stare him down, which was like trying to win a staring contest with a statue of the Buddha. Phillip lost. He very coolly walked over to his tent and went inside. We heard Cindy screech a few choice words at him. There is no privacy in a camp. Phillip returned a moment later with a stack of photos and a roll of topo maps. We all gathered around him.

“I still think we should just wait,” Phillip said, finding the right photo. “Here's the river.” He pointed. “Here's our camp. And here's where I sent them.”

Mom and Zopa stared at the grainy photo.

“Show me the spot on the map,” Mom said.

Phillip impatiently unrolled the maps, found the one he was looking for, and pointed again. “Right here.”

“Point out the camp again,” Mom said.

Phillip stabbed a manicured finger at the spot.

Zopa shook his head. “No. We are here.” He pointed to a spot about three miles upriver from where Phillip was pointing.

“I think you're mistake—”

“I am correct.” Zopa cut him off. “I have been here for several days. I will take Teri and Peak with me to find them.”

“Whatever,” Phillip said. “But you're wasting your time. They'll probably be back here before you get back.” He looked at me. “You may want to stick around. I was just about to go through my parameters for the interviews.”

“Parameters?”

“Yeah. You're all free to say whatever you want, but there are certain things I'm looking for. It would be unfair not to tell all of you what I need to level the playing field.”

“I'll take my chances.” I picked up my pack.

“I would like to go too,” Alessia said.

Mom shook her head. “We've got this. No sense in everyone going.” She looked at Phillip. “What I don't understand is how Plank would provide all of this wonderful equipment and not think to supply us with two-way radios as a backup to cell and sat phones.”

Phillip looked uncomfortable. It was the first time his confident demeanor had wavered even a little bit. “Well . . . uh . . . actually, there are two-ways. It's such antiquated tech, I didn't even think to use them. I'm sure they don't have much range. In fact, I'm not sure they're charged. To be honest, I don't even know how to use them.”

If Phillip had thought to break them out, no one would have had to stumble out into the dark to find the film crew.

Mom didn't give him a bad time about this, because she's cool. “Let's get them out and see if they work. The last time I climbed, two-ways were the only tech there was. If they're charged, I should be able to get them to work.”

Getting two-ways to work is as simple as turning them on and switching the units to the same channel. But she didn't mention this to him either. Cool Mom.

Phillip went back to his tent, and after another muffled exchange with Cindy, he and she came back out with a high-impact plastic case. Inside were several pristine, very compact, two-way radios held in place by Styrofoam. Mom pulled them out and screwed on the antennas.

“These are nicer than any two-way I've ever used.” She fired them up and looked at the displays. “They're all fully charged. They might have a better range than we think.” She punched in the same frequency on all the units, then keyed the mikes. “They seem to be working.”

Cindy wandered over to the fire. “Are those sat phones?”

“Sorry,” Mom said, handing a radio to Phillip. “Two-ways. You're still disconnected.”

I smiled. A double entendre. Mom is famous for them. First one she had pulled in Afghanistan. I think. They're subtle. Especially when they're directed at you. No one else seemed to have caught it.

MY CALVES AND ANKLES
were killing me.

There is no way to strengthen the weird little muscles you use when you're walking on scree. It's kind of like walking on fist-size marbles. Zopa's headlamp was a hundred feet in front of Mom and me, following a trail that only he seemed able to see.