Radar got out of the moto and hurried over to them.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said.
“As you can see, you aren’t,” said Lars. “Things move very slowly in this town. We had to pay our friend here another bribe. ‘Des frais de déchargement,’ he claimed. Apparently the first bribe did not cover this fee.”
The harbormaster waved his arms. The crane stopped, then started again, belching out thick black smoke.
Captain Daneri emerged on the gangplank of the ship. Next to him was Professor Funes, shaded by a great white parasol. They were deep in conversation, speaking rapidly in Spanish. As they approached, Daneri saw Radar and smiled.
“Our little bird returns! My boy, I heard all about it.”
Radar felt himself turning crimson. “Where’s Ivan?” he asked quickly.
“Mr. Kovalyov has not been seen this morning. He’ll surface. We leave this afternoon, and he does not miss a departure. He, like me, lives to depart.”
After some negotiation, it was decided that Moby-Dikt would be loaded onto the bed of the tractor-trailer, and the container of books would be bolted on top of this. It was a precarious arrangement, made all the more precarious by the age of the truck. Professor Funes hadn’t been kidding. The Mitsubishi looked as if she had been resuscitated from a scrapyard. Many of her parts were in the process of falling off. Yet, like the rest of the country, she endured: when the driver started her engine, there was only the briefest of stutters before she woke up and revved to life. Evidently, she was using the good petrol.
“We must go,” said the professor. “It’s nine hours to the launch on a good day.”
With tears in his eyes, Daneri hugged each of them long and slow, as if he were memorizing the weight of their bodies.
“You’re going places where I’ve never been,” he murmured. “I admire you. I admire your course. May we meet again. An honor. Ustedes son mis héroes.”
Radar watched as he strode up the ramp.
“If you get lost,” the captain called, “you can always follow the water back to the sea.” He kissed his fist and then he was gone.
“I like that man,” said Otik.
“I thought you hated him,” said Radar.
Otik shrugged. “I changed my mind.”
There was only room in the truck cab for Professor Funes, his driver, and one more, but Otik and Lars opted to ride in Moby-Dikt and continue with their repairs. Time, it seemed, was now of the essence. Radar had just decided that he would join them in the back — not so much to help in the preparations as to sleep off his hangover — when Horeb approached them.
“Pardon me,” he said. “But I would like to come with you.”
“What?” said Otik, startled. “With us like how?”
Horeb bowed. “I would like to be your guide.”
Otik exchanged a look with Lars. “Our guide? Who says we need a guide?” he said.
“Last night, you said I was your hoopoe.”
“Last night we are saying lots of things. Last night was last night. Just because you give us ride to hotel doesn’t mean you are suddenly—”
Lars put a hand on Otik’s shoulder.
“Do you know the river?” he asked Horeb.
Horeb shook his head. “I went to university in Kinshasa, but I’ve never been past there.”
“So how would you guide us if you don’t know anything?” said Otik.
“I cannot guide you on the river, but I can be your voice. I speak French. I speak Kikongo, Lingala, Kele, and Swahili. And Arabic. And a little Portuguese, too. And I know how to deal with the Congolese mind. The river can be dangerous, not only for the currents but also because of the people who live on it. Some of the villages do not like new faces. This is where I can help you.”
“We don’t have money, if this is what you want,” snapped Otik.
“I don’t want money. Allah will provide. I want to help with your show. I’m an actor.”
“You’re an actor?” said Lars.
“Yes. A very good actor. I’ve been on television.”
“The show has no actors,” said Otik.
“Do you have carpentry skills?” asked Lars.
“I have many carpentry skills.”
“Can you play the drum?”
“I grew up playing the drum. I learned how to speak on the drum.”
“Please, let us confer,” said Lars. He gestured for Radar and Otik to join him in conference. Radar was surprised to be included in the quorum and even more surprised when Lars turned to him first.
“What do you think?”
“Me?” said Radar. “I don’t know. He sounds like he’s telling the truth. I like him. But I don’t think I’m a good judge, perhaps. I don’t know what you’re looking for.”
“Otik, what’re we looking for?”
“I told you: this is not how we choose our members,” said Otik. “We don’t even know him. I don’t believe he doesn’t want money. Everyone wants money.”
“How do we choose our members? We didn’t know Radar.”
“Yes, and I lodged formal complaint, if you remember. No offense.” He nodded at Radar.
“None taken.”
“We have certain standards to uphold,” said Otik. “We cannot keep watering group. What about our philosophy? What about Brecht? Artaud?”
“Let’s not fool ourselves,” said Lars. “A happening is not about what we think before. A happening is about the happen.”
“Okay, yes, you always say that, but you forget we have planned for ten years to—”
“To what?” said Lars.
Otik was silent.
“This is now,” said Lars.
“I know this is now. You don’t need to tell me this is now.”
“Do we have another tracksuit?” asked Lars.
Otik sighed. “We have another one. There is Thorgen’s old suit.”
“Radar? What do you think?”
“I say. . yes. Why not?”
“If we take him, he becomes exactly like us,” said Lars. “There’s no hierarchy here.”
Radar laughed.
“What?”
“I’m just not so sure that’s true,” he said.
“What do you mean?” said Lars, looking shocked.
“I mean it’s you two, then me,” he said. “It’s not a bad thing, but we’re not all equal here.”
Otik grabbed him by the shoulders. “Hey. Hey!”
“What?”
“Burazeru, you must understand. Trust is the most precious. This is why I cannot just say yes to anyone. To be one of us, you must be ready absolutely to die. Whole team has died before. But we said, ‘Okay we do it again.’ Lars lost everyone, but he said, ‘Okay, I do it again. I believe in this.’ Before, I didn’t know if you are ready to die. Now I know.”
“Okay,” said Radar.
“You are like us.”
“Okay.”
Lars smiled. “So? Otik?”
“I don’t trust him,” said Otik.
“Why?”
“He is not telling us everything. Why does he suddenly want to come on trip? Suddenly he is actor, suddenly he is very interested in everything we do.”
“You heard him—”
“Yes, I heard him, blah blah blah,” he said. “And I also do admit, we need two more hands.”
“So?”
“Okay. Okay,” Otik sighed. “But let me lodge formal request to clarify recruitment process.”
“Formal request duly noted.”
“Because one of these days we are going to invite real maniac and I will be very upset.”