He cleared his throat. "Taski has scaled Everest twelve times. He knows the mountain and its moods. If he says the weather is too unpredictable to move forward, then we spend another day acclimating and practicing skills. If anyone would like, I can also have a pair of guides lead a day trip to the rhododendron forest in the lower Khumbu valley."
A hand rose from the group. "What about a day trip to the Everest View Hotel? We've been camping in these damn tents for the past six days. I wouldn't mind a hot bath."
Murmurs of agreement met this request.
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Josh warned. "The hotel is a full day's trek away, and the rooms at the hotel have oxygen pumped into them, to stave off altitude sickness. It could weaken your current acclimation and delay any ascent."
"Like we're not delayed enough already!" Boston Bob pressed.
Josh ignored him. Lisa knew her younger brother would not be pressured to do something as stupid as risk an ascent against inclement weather. Though the skies were blue, she knew that could change in a matter of minutes. She had grown up on the sea, off the Catalina coast. As had Josh. One learned to read signs beyond the lack of clouds. Josh might not have developed a Sherpa's eye to read the weather up at these heights, but he certainly knew to respect those who did.
Lisa stared up at the plume of snow blowing off the tip of Everest's peak. It marked the jet stream, known to gust over two hundred miles an hour across the summit. The plume stretched impossibly long. Though the storm had blown itself out, the pressure pattern still wreaked havoc above eight thousand meters. The jet stream could blow a storm back over them at any moment.
"We could at least make for Camp One," Boston Bob persisted. "Bivouac there and see what the weather brings."An irritating whine had entered the sports-store manager's voice, trying to wheedle some concession. His face had reddened with frustration.
Lisa could not fathom her prior attraction to the man.
Before her brother could respond to the lout, a new noise intruded. A thump-thump like drums. All eyes swung to the east. Out of the glare of the rising sun, a black helicopter appeared. A hornet-shaped B-2 Squirrel A-Star Ecuriel. The rescue chopper had been designed to climb to these heights.
A silence settled over the group.
A week ago, just before the recent storm broke, an expedition had gone up on the Nepal side. Radio communication had put them up at Camp Two. Over twenty-one thousand feet in elevation.
Lisa shaded her eyes. Had something gone wrong?
She had visited the Himalayan Rescue Association's health clinic down in Pheriche. It was the point of triage for all manner of illnesses that rolled down the mountainside to their doorstep: broken bones, pulmonary and cerebral edema, frostbite, heart conditions, dysentery, snow blindness, and all sorts of infections, including STDs. It seemed even chlamydia and gonorrhea were determined to summit Everest.
But what had gone wrong now? There had been no Mayday on the radio's emergency band. A helicopter could only reach a little above Base Camp due to the thin air up here. That meant rescues from air often required trekking down from the most severe heights. Above twenty-five thousand feet, the dead were simply left where they fell, turning the upper slopes of Everest into an icy graveyard of abandoned gear, empty oxygen containers, and frost-mummified corpses.
The beat of the rotors changed pitch.
"They're coming this way," Josh said and waved everyone back to the nests of four-season storm tents, clearing the flat expanse that served as the camp's helipad.
The black helicopter dropped over them. Rotor wash swirled sand and bits of rock. A Snickers wrapper blew past Lisa's nose. Prayer flags danced and twisted, and yaks scattered. After so many days of quiet in the mountains, the noise was deafening.
The B-2 settled to its skids with a grace that belied its size. Doors swung open. Two men stepped out. One wore a green camouflage uniform and shouldered an automatic weapon, a soldier of the Royal Nepalese Army. The other stood taller, in a red robe and cloak sashed at the waist, head shaved bald. A Buddhist monk.
The pair approached and spoke rapidly in a Nepalese dialect to a pair of Sherpas. There was a short bout of gesturing, then an arm pointed.
At Lisa.
The monk led the way to her, flanked by the soldier. From the suncrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the monk appeared to be in his midforties, skin the color of latte, eyes caramel brown.
The soldier's skin was darker, his eyes pinched closer together. His gaze was fixed below her neckline. She had left her jacket unzipped, and the sports bra she was wearing beneath her fleece vest seemed to have captured his attention. The Buddhist monk, on the other hand, kept his eyes respectful, even bowing his head slightly. He spoke precise English touched by a British accent. "Dr. Cummings, I apologize for the intrusion, but there has been an emergency. I was informed by the HRA clinic that you are a medical doctor."
Lisa frowned, her brow furrowing. "Yes."
"A nearby monastery has been struck by a mysterious ailment, affecting almost all the inhabitants. A sole messenger, a man from a neighboring village, had been dispatched on foot, traveling three days to reach the hospital in Khunde. Once alerted, we'd hoped to ferry one of the HRA doctors up to the monastery, but an avalanche has the clinic already shorthanded. Dr. Sorenson told us of your presence here at Base Camp."
Lisa pictured the short Canadian doctor, another woman. They had shared a six-pack of Carlsberg lager along with sweet milk tea one evening. "How can I be of service?" she asked.
"Would you be willing to accompany us up there? Though isolated, the monastery is serviceable by helicopter."
"How long…?" she asked and glanced in Josh's direction. He had moved over to join them.
The monk shook his head, his eyes concerned and slightly abashed at imposing upon her. "It is about a three-hour ride. I don't know what we'll find." Another worried shake of his head.
Josh spoke up. "We're held up here for the day anyway." He touched her elbow and leaned closer. "But I should go with you."
Lisa balked at this suggestion. She knew how to take care of herself. But she had also been instructed on the tense political climate in Nepal since 1996. Maoist rebels had been waging a guerrilla war in the highlands, seeking to overthrow the constitutional monarchy and replace it with a socialist republic. They were known to hack off victims' limbs—one by one—with farm sickles. Though there was currently a cease-fire, occasional atrocities were still committed.
She eyed the well-oiled automatic rifle in the soldier's hands. When even a holy man needed an armed escort, perhaps she had better reconsider her brother's offer."I…I have little more than a first aid kit and some monitoring equipment," she said haltingly to the monk. "I'm hardly suited for a major medical situation involving multiple patients."