Текст книги "The Seventh Scroll"

Автор книги: Wilbur Smith

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appointment?"

"That is about it, yes. Sorry."

He pondered a moment, "All right. Who knew you were leaving Cairo? Who

knew you were staying at your mother's cottage?"

"One of the clerks from administration brought my slides out to the

airport."

"Did you tell him what flight you were leaving on?"

"No, definitely not."

"Did you tell anybody at all?"

"No. That is.-'she hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I told the minister himself during our interview, when I asked for

leave of absence. Not him surely not?" her expression. reflected her

horror at the thought.

Nicholas shrugged, "Some funny things happen. Of course, the minister

knew all about the work that you and Duraid were doing on the seventh

scroll?"

"Not all the details, but – yes – in general terms he knew what we were

up to.

"All right. Next question, tea or coffee?" He poured coffee into her

cup, and then went on, "You said that nso Duraid had a list of possible

sponsors for an expedition.

Might give us some ideas as to a short-list of suspects?"

"The Getty Museum," she said, and he' smiled.

"Cross one from the list. They don't go around tossing grenades in the

streets of Cairo. Who else was there on the list?, "Gotthold Ernst von

Schiller."

"Hamburg. Heavy industry. Metal and alloy refineries.

Base mineral production."Nicholas nodded. "Who was the third name on the

list?"

"Peter Walsh," she said. "The Texan."

"That's the one," he nodded. "Lives in Fort Worth.

Fast-food'franchising. Mail order retail." There were very few

collectors with the substance to compete with the major institutions

when it came to making significant of antiquities or to financing

archaeological acquisitions exploration. Nicholas knew them all, for it

was a mutually antagonistic circle of no more than a couple of dozen

men.

He had competed with each of them at one time or ano& on the auction

floors of Sotheby's and Christie's, not to mention other less salubrious

venues where "fresh' antiquities were sold. The adjective "fresh' was

used in the context of "fresh out of the ground'.

"Those are two beady-eyed bandits. They would probably eat their own

children if they felt peckish. What would they do if they thought you

stood in their way to the tomb of Mamose? Do you know if either of them

contacted Duraid after the book was published, the way I did?"

"I don't know. They may have."

"I cannot imagine that either of those beauties would have missed such

an easy trick. We must believe that they both know that Duraid had

something going on. We will put their names on our list of suspects."

Then he inspected her plate. "Enough? Another spoonful of egg? No? Very

well, let's go down to the museum and see what Mrs. Street has found for

us to work on."

When they walked into his study, she was impressed by the amount of

organization that he had accomplished in such a short time. He must have

been busy at it all last night, turning the room into a military-type

headquarters.

In the centre of the room stood a large easel and blackboard which were

pinned a set of overlapping satellite photographs. She went across to

study them, and then glanced at the other material pinned on the board.

Along with a large-scale map covering the same area of southwestern

Ethiopia as the satellite photographs there were lists of names and

addresses, lists of equipment and stores which he had obviously used on

previous African expeditions, sheets of calculations of distance and

what looked like a preliminary financial budget. At the top of the board

was a schedule headed "Ethiopia – General Information'. There were five

closely typed sheets, so she did not read through the entire schedule,

but she was impressed by his thoroughness in preparation.

Royan determined to study all this material at the earliest opportunity,

but now she crossed to one of the two chairs he had set up at a table

facing the board. He stood at the board and picked up a silver-topped

swagger stick from the table, brandishing it like a schoolmaster's

pointer.

"Class will come to order." He rapped on the board.

"The first thing you have to do is convince me that we will be able to

pick up the spoor of Taita again after it has had several thousand years

to cool. Let us first consider the geographical features of the Abbay

gorge."

Nicholas described the course of the river on the satellite photograph

with his pointer. "Along this section the river has cut its way through

the flood basalt plateaux.

In places the cliff of the sub-gorge are sheer, as high as four or five

hundred feet on each side. Where there are intrusive strata of harder

igneous schists the river has not been able to erode them. They form a

series of gigantic steps in the course of the river. I think you are

correct in your assumption that Taita's "steps" are actually waterp

falls."

He came to the table and picked out a photograph from amongst the

bundles of papers that covered it. "I took this in the gorge during the

Armed Forces Expedition in 1976. It will give you an idea of what some

of those falls are like."

He passed her a black and white riverscape of towering cliffs on either

hand and a cascade of water that seemed to fall from the heavens to

dwarf the tiny figures of half-naked men and boats in the foreground.

"I had no idea it was. like thad' She stared at it in awe.

"Doesn't do justice to the splendid desolation down he told her. "From a

photographer's there in the gorge, gra point of view there. is no place

to stand from which you can get it all into perspective. But at least

you can see how that waterfall would halt a party of Egyptians coming

upriver on foot, or at least with pack horses. There is usually some

sort of path alongside the cataracts made by elephant and other wild

game over the ages. However, there is simply no way to bypass waterfalls

such as this one, and to get around those cliffs."

She nodded, and he went on, "Even coming downstream we had to lower the

boats and all our equipment down each set of waterfalls on ropes. It

wasn't easy."

"Let us agree that it was a waterfall that stopped them going further -

the second waterfall from the westerly approaches," she conceded.

Nicholas picked up the swagger stick and on the satellite photograph

traced the course of the river up from the dark wedge shape of the

Roseires dam in central Sudan.

"The escarpment, rises on the Ethiopian side of the border, that is

where the gorge proper begins. No roads or towns in there, and only two

bridges far upstream. Nothing for five hundred miles except racing Nile

waters and savage black basalt rock." He paused to let that sink in.

"It is one of the last true wildernesses on earth, with an evil

reputation as the haunt of wild animals and even wilder men. I have

marked the main falls that show in the gut of the gorge here on the

satellite photo." With the pointer he picked them out, each circled

neatly in red marker pen.

"Here is waterfall number two, about a hundred and twenty miles upstream

from the Sudanese border. However, there are a number of factors we have

to consider, not least the fact that the river may have altered its

course during the last four thousand years since our friend, "Taita,

visited it."

"Surely it could not have escaped from such a deep canyon, four thousand

feet," she protested. "Even the Nile must be held captive by that?"

"Yes, but it would certainly have altered the existing bed. In the flood

season the volume and force of the river exceeds my ability to describe

it to you. The river rises twenty metres up the side walls and bores

through at speeds 3; of ten knots or more."

"You navigated that?" she asked doubtfully.

"Not in the flood season. Nothing could survive that.

They both stared at the photograph in silence for a minute, imagining

the terrors of that mighty stretch of water in its fury.

Then she reminded him, "The second waterfall?

"Here it is, where one of the tributary rivers enters the main flow of

the Abbay. The tributary is the Dandera river and it rises at twelve

thousand feet altitude, below the peak of Sancai Mountain in the Choke

range, here about a hundred miles north of the gorge."

"Do you remember the spot where it joins the Abbay from when you were

there?"

"It was over twenty years ago, and even then we had been almost a month

down there in the gorge, so it all seemed to merge into a single

nightmare. The memory bluffed with the monotonous surroundings of the

cliffs and the dense Jungle of the walls, and our senses were dulled by

the heat and the insects and the roar of water and the repetitive,

unremitting toil at the oars i But, strangely, I do remember the

confluence of the Dandera and the Abbay for two reasons."

"Yes?" She sat forward eagerly, but he shook his head.

"We lost a man there. The only casualty on the second expedition. Rope

parted and he fell a hundred feet. Landed on his back across a spur of

rock."

i am sorry. But what was the other reason you remember the spot."

"There is a Coptic Christian monastery there, built into the rock face

about four hundred feet above the surface of the river."

"Down the re in the depths of the gorge?" She sounded incredulous. "Why

would they build a monastery there?"

"Ethiopia is one of the oldest Christian countries on earth. It has over

nine thousand churches and monasteries, a great many of them in

similarly remote and almost inaccessible places in the mountains. This

one at the Dandera river is the reputed burial site of St. Frumentius,

the saint who introduced Christianity to Ethiopia from the Byzantine

Empire in Constantinople in the early third century. Legend has it that

he was shipwrecked on the Red Sea shore and taken to Aksum, where he

converted the Emperor Ezana."

"Did you visit the monastery?"

"Hell, no!" he laughed. "We were too busy just surviving, too eager to

escape from the hell of the gorge to have any time for sightseeing. We

descended the falls and kept on down river. All I remember of the

monastery are the excavations in the cliff face high above the pool of

the river, and the distant figures of the troglodytic monks in their

white robes lining the parapet of the caves to watch impassively as we

passed. Some of us waved up to them) and felt quite rebuffed when they

made no response."

"How would we ever reach that spot again, without a full-scale river

expedition?" she wondered aloud, staring disconsolately at the board.

"Discouraged already?" He grinned at her. "Wait until you meet some of

the mosquitoes that live down there.

They pick you up and fly with you to their lairs before they eat you."

"Be serious," she entreated him. "How would we ever get down there?"

"The monks are fed by the villagers who live up on the highlands above

the gorge. Apparently, there is a goat track down the wall. They told us

that it takes three days to get down that track into the gut of the

gorge from the rim."

"Could you find your way down?"

"No, but I have a few ideas on the subject. We will come to that later.

Firstly, we must decide what we expect to find down there after four

thousand years." He looked at her expectantly. "Your turn now. Convince

me." He handed her the silver-headed pointer, dropped into the chair

beside her and folded his arms.

"First you have to go back to the book." She exchanged the pointer for

the copy of River God. "You remember the character of Tanus from the

story?"

"Of course. He was the commander of the Egyptian armies under Queen

Lostris, with the title of Great Lion of Egypt. He led the exodus from

Egypt, when they were driven out by the Hyksos."

"He was also the Queen's secret lover and, if we are to believe Taita,

the father of Prince Memnon, her eldest son," she agreed.

Tanus was killed during a punitive expedition against an Ethiopian chief

named Arkoun in the high mountains, and his body was mummified and

brought back to the Queen by Taita,'Nicholas expanded the story.

Precisely." She nodded. This leads me on to the other clue that Duraid

and I winkled out."

"From the seventh scroll?" He unfolded his arms and sat forward in his

seat.

"No, not from the scrolls, but from the inscriptions in the tomb of

Queen Lostris." She reached into her bag and brought out another

photograph. This is an enlargement of a section of the murals from the

burial chamber, that part of the wall that later fell away and was lost

when the alabaster jars were revealed. Duraid and I believe that the

fact that Taita placed this inscription in the place of honour, over the

hiding-place of the scrolls, was significant." She passed the photograph

to him, and he picked up a magnifying glass from the table to study it.

While he puzzled over the hieroglyphics Royan went on, "You will recall

from the book how Taita loved riddles and word games, how he boasts so

often that he is the greatest of all boa players?"

Nicholas looked up from the magnifying glass, "I remember that. I go

along with the theory that bao was the forerunner of the game of chess.

I have a dozen or so boards in the museum collection, some from Egypt

and others from further south in Africa."

"Yes, I would also subscribe to that theory. Both games have many of the

same objects and rules, but bao is a more rudimentary form of the game.

It is played with coloured stones of different rank, instead of chess

men. Well, I believe that Taita was not able to resist the temptation to

display his riddling skills and his cleverness to posterity. I believe

that he was so conceited that he deliberately left clues to the location

of the Pharaoh's tomb, both in the scrolls and amongst the murals that

he tells us he painted with his own hands in the tomb of his beloved

Queen."

"You think that this is one of those clues?" Nicholas tapped the

photograph with the glass.

"Read it," she instructed him. "It's in classical hieroglyphics – not

too difficult compared to his cryptic codes."

"'The father of the prince who is not the father, the giver of the blue

that killed him,"' he translated haltingly, "'guards eternally hand in

hand with Hapi the stone testament of the pathway to the father of the

prince who is not the father, the giver of blood and ashes."'

Nicholas shook his head, "No, it doesn't make sense," he protested, you

must have made an error in the translation."

"Don't despair. You are making your first acquaintance with Taita, the

champion bao, player and consummate riddler. Duraid and I puzzled over

it for weeks," she reassured him. "To work it out, let's go back to the

book.

Tanus was not the father of Prince Memnon in name, but, as the Queen's

lover, was his biological father. On his deathbed, he gave Memnon the

blue sword that had inflicted his own mortal wound during the battle

with the native Ethiopian chief There is a full description of the

battle in the book."

"Yes, when I first read that section, I remember thinking that the blue

sword was probably one of the very earliest iron weapons, and in an age

of bronze would have been a marvel of the armourer's art. A gift fit for

a prince," Nicholas mused, and went on, "So "the father of the prince

who is not the father" is Tanus?" He sighed with resignation.

"For the moment I accept your interpretation."

"Thank you for your trust and confidence in me," she said sarcastically.

"But to proceed with Taita's riddle Pharaoh Mamose was Memnon's father

in name only, but not his blood father. Again the father who was not the

father. Mamose passed down to the prince the double crown of Egypt, the

red and white crowns of Upper and Lower Kingdoms – the blood and the

ashes.

"I am able to swallow that more easily. What about the rest of the

inscription?"Nicholas was clearly intrigued.

"The expression "hand in hand" is ambiguous in ancient Egyptian. It

could just as well mean very close to, or within sight of, something."

"Go on. At last you have me sitting up and taking notice,'Nicholas

encouraged her.

"Hapi is the hermaphroditic god or goddess of the Nile, depending on the

gender he or she adopts at any particular moment. Throughout the scrolls

Taita uses Hapi as an alternative name for the river."

"So if we put the seventh scroll and the "inscription from the Queen's

tomb together, what then is your full interpretation?" he insisted.

"Simply this: Tanus is buried within sight of, or very close to, the

river at the second waterfall. There is a stone monument or inscription

on, or in, his tomb that points the way to the tomb of Pharaoh."

He exhaled through his teeth. "I am exhausted from all this jumping to

conclusions. What other clues have you ferreted out for me?"

"That's it," she said, and he looked at her with disbelief.

"That's it? Nothing else?" he demanded, and she shook her head.

"Just suppose that you are correct so far. Let us suppose that the river

is recognizably the same in shape and configuration as it was nearly

four thousand years ago. Let us further suppose that Taita was indeed

pointing us towards the second waterfall at the Dandera river. just what

do we look for when we get there? If there is a rock inscription, will

it still be intact or will it be eroded away by weather and the action

of the river?"

"Howard Carter had an equally slender lead to the tomb of Tutankhamen,'

she pointed out mildly. "A single piece of papyrus, of dubious

authenticity."

"Howard Carter had only the area of the Valley of the Kings to search.

It still took him ten years," he replied. "You have given me Ethiopia, a

country twice the size of France.

How long will that take us, do you think?"

She stood up abruptly, "Excuse me, I think I should go and visit my

mother in hospital. It's fairly obvious that I am wasting my time here."

"It is not yet visiting hours," he told her.

"She has a private room." Royan made for the door.

"I will drive you to the hospital," he offered.

"Don't bother. I will call a taxi," she replied in a tone that crackled

with ice.

"A taxi will take an hour to get here," he warned, and she relented just

enough to let him lead her to the Range Rover. They drove in silence for

fifteen minutes, before he spoke.

"I am not very good at apologies. Not much practice, I am afraid, but I

am sorry. I was abrupt. I didn't mean to be.

Carried away by the excitement of the moment She did not reply, and

after a minute added,'You will have to talk to me, unless we are to

correspond only by note. It will be a bit awkward down in the Abbay

gorge."

"I had the distinct impression that you were no longer interested in

going down there." She stared ahead through the windscreen.

am a brute," he agreedi and she glanced sideways at him. It was her

undoing. His grin was irresistible, and she laughed.

"I Suppose I will just have to come to terms with that fact. You are a

brute."

"Still partners?" he asked.

"At the moment you are the only brute I have.

suppose that I am stuck with you."

He dropped her off at the main hospital entrance. "I will pick you up

here at three 'clock," he told her and drove on into the centre of York.

From his university days Nicholas had kept a small flat in one of the

narrow alleys behind York Minster. The entire building was registered in

the name of a Cayman Island company, and the unlisted telephone there

did not route through an internal switchboard. No ownership could be

traced to him personally. Before he had met Rosalind the flat had played

an important part in his social life. But nowadays Nicholas only used it

for confidential and clandestine business. Both the Libyan and the Iraqi

expeditions had been planned and organized from here.

He hadn't used the flat for months, and it was cold and musty-smelling

and uninviting. He put a match to the gas fire in the grate and filled

the kettle. With a mug of steaming tea in front of him he placed a call

to a bank in  Jersey, followed immediately by another to a bank in the

Cayman Islands.

"A wise rat has more than one exit from its burrow."

This was a family maxim, passed down through the generations. He was

going to need funds for the expedition, and the lawyers had most of

those locked up already.

He gave the passwords and account numbers to each of the bank managers,

and instructed them to make certain transfers. It always amazed him how

easily matters could be rranged, as long as you had money.

He checked his watch. It was still early morning in Florida, but Alison

picked up the phone on the second ring. She was the blonde feminine

dynamo who ran Global Safaris, a company that arranged hunting and

fishing expeditions to remote areas around the world.

"Hello, Nick. We haven't heard from you in over a year. We thought you

didn't love us any more."

"I have been out of it for a while," he admitted. How do you tell people

that your wife and two little girls had died?

"Ethiopia?" She did not sound at all disconcerted by the request. "When

did you want to go?"

"How about next week?"

"You have to be joking. We only work with one hunter there, Nassous

Roussos, and he is booked two years in advance."

"Is there nobody else?" he insisted. "I have to be in and out again

before the big rains."

"What trophies are you after? she hedged. "Mountain nyala? Menelik's

bushbuck?"

"I am planning a collecting trip for the museum, down the Abbay river."

It was as much as he was prepared to tell her.

She hedged a little longer and then told him reluctantly, This is

without our recommendation, do you understand. There is only one hunter

who may take You on at such short notice, but I don't even know if he

has a camp on the Blue Nile. He is a Russian, and we have had mixed

reports about him. Some people say he is ex-KGB an was one of Mengistu's

bunch of thugs."

Mengistu was the "Black Stalin' who had deposed an  then murdered the

old Emperor Haile Selassie, and in sixteen years of despotic Marxist

rule had driven Ethiopia to its knees. When his sponsor, the Soviet

Empire, had collapsed, Mengistu had been overthrown and fled the

country.

"I am desperate enough to go to bed with the devil," he told her. "I

promise I won't come back to you with any complaints."

"Okay, then, no comebacks-' and she gave him a name and a telephone

number in Addis Ababa.

"I love you, Alison darling Nicholas told her.

"I wish," she said, and hung up on him.

He didn't expect that it would be easy to telephone Addis, and he wasn't

disappointed in his expectations. But at last he got through. A woman

with a sweet lisping of Ethiopian accent answered and switched to fluent

English when he asked for Boris Brusilov.

"He is out on safari at present," she told him. "I am Woizero Tessay,

his wife." In Ethiopia a wife did not take on her husband's name.

Nicholas remembered enough of the language to know that the name meant

Lady Sun, a pretty name.

"But if it is in connection with safari business I can help you," said

Lady Sun.

Nicholas picked Royan up outside the hospital entrance.

"How is your mother?"

"Her leg is doing well, but she's still distraught about is Magic -

about her dog."

You will have to get her a puppy. One of my keepers breeds first-class

springers. I can arrange it." He paused and then asked delicately, "Will

you be able to leave your mother? I mean, if we are going out to

Africa?"

"I spoke to her about that. There is a woman from her church group who

will stay with her until she is well enough to fend for herself again."

Royan turned fully around in her seat to examine his face. "You have

been up to something since I last saw you," she accused him. "I can see

it in your face."

He made the Arabic sign against the evil eye, "Allah save me from

witches!'

"Come on!" He could make her laugh so readily, she was not sure if that

was a good thing or not. "Tell me what you have up your sleeve."

"Wait until we get back to the museum." He would not be moved, and she

had to bridle her impatience.

As soon as they entered the building he led her through the Egyptian

room to the hall of African mammals, and then stopped her in front of a

diorama of mounted antelope. These were some of the smaller and

mediumsized varieties – impala, Thompson's and Grant's gazelle, gerenuk

and the like.

"Madoqua harperii." He pointed to a tiny creature in one corner of the

display. "Harper's dik-dik, also known as the striped dik-dik."

It was a nondescript little animal, not much bigger than a large hare.

The brown pelt was striped in chocolate over the shoulders and back, and

the nose was elongated into a prehensile proboscis.

"A bit tatty," she gave her opinion carefully, unwilling to bend, yet

knowing he was inordinately Proud of this Specimen. "Is there something

special about it?, "Special?" he asked with wonder in his voice. The

Woman asks if it is special." He rolled his eyes heavenward and she had

to laugh again at his histrionics. "It is the only known specimen in

existence.

creatures on earth. So rare that It is One of the rarest now. So rare it

is probably extinct by that many zoologists believe that apocryphal,

that it never really existed. They think it is  that my sainted

great-grandfather, after whom it is named, actually invented it. One

learned reference hinted that he may have taken the skin of the striped

mongoose and stretched it over the form of a common dik-dik. Can you

imagine a more heinous accusation?)

"I am truly appalled by such injustice,'she laughed.

"Darned right, You should be. Because we are going to Africa to hunt for

another specimen of Madoqua harpent, to vindicate the honour of the

family., "I don't understand."

"Come with me and all will be explained."He led her back to his study,

and from the jumble on the tabletop Picked out a notebook bound in red

Morocco leather. The cover was faded and stained with water marks and

tropical sun light, while the corners and the spine were frayed and

battered.

"Old Sir Jonathan's game book,) he explained, and opened it. Pressed

between the pages were faded wild flowers and leaves that must have been

there for almost a century. The text was illuminated by line drawings in

faded Yellow ink of men and animals and wild landscapes.

Nicholas read the date at the top of one page.

2nd of February 1902.

A In camp on the Abbay river.

11 day following the spoor of two large bull ele Phants– Unable to come

up with the . Heat ve,   intense– MY Men Played out Abandoned the chase

small antelope grazing on the river-bank which I and returned to camp.

On the return march lied a brought down with one shot from the little

Rigby "and– On close examination it proved to be a member of the genus

Madoqa. However, it was of a species that I had never seen before,

larger than the common dik-dik and Possessing a striped body. I believe

that this specimen may be new to science.

He looked up from the diary. "Old great-grandpa Jonathan has given us

the perfect excuse for going down into the Abbay gorge." He closed the

book, and went on, "As you pointed out, to cater for our own expedition

would require months of planning and organization, not to mention the

expense. It would mean having to obtain approval and permission from the

Ethiopian government. In Africa that can take months, if not Years."

"I don't imagine that the Ethiopian government would be too cooperative

if they suspected our real intentions," she agreed.

"On the other hand, there are a number of legitimate hunting safari

companies operating throughout the country. They have all the necessary

permits, governmental contacts, vehicles, camping equipment and logistic

back, up necessary to travel and stay in even the remotest areas.

The authorities are quite accustomed to foreign hunters arriving and

leaving with these companies, whereas a couple of ferengi nosing around

on their own would have the local military and everybody else down on

them like a herd of angry buffalo., ( So we are going to travel as a

pair of dik-dik hunters?"

"I have already made the booking with a safari operator in Addis Ababa,

the capital. MY Plan is to look upon the whole of our project in three

distinct and separate stages.

The first stage will be this reconnaissance. If we find the lead we are

hoping for, then we will go back again with our own men and equipment.

That will be stage two. Stage three, of course, will be getting the

booty out of Ethiopia, and that I assure you from past experience will

not be the easiest part of the operation."

"How will you do that-' she began, but he held up his hands.

"Don't ask, because at this stage I don't have even the vaguest idea how

we will do it. One stage at a time."

"When do we leave?"

"Before I tell you when, let me ask you one more question. Your

interpretation of the Taita riddle – did you explain that in the notes

that were stolen from you at the oasis?"

"Yes, everything was either in those notes or on the microfilm. I am

sorry."

So the uglies will have it all neatly laid out for them, just the way

you laid it out for me."

"I am afraid they will, yes."

"Then to reply to your question as to when, the answer is tout de suite,

and the tooter the sweeter! We must get into the Abbay gorge before the

competition beats us to it.

They have had your conclusions and suppositions for almost a month. For

all we know they are on their way already!

"When?" she repeated eagerly.

"I have booked two seats on the British Airways flight to Nairobi this

Saturday – that is, in two days' time. We will connect there with an Air

Kenya flight to Addis that will get us in on Monday at around midday. We

will drive down to London this evening and stay over at my digs there.

Are your yellow fever and hepatitis shots up to date?"

"Yes, but I have no equipment and hardly any clothing with me., I left

Cairo in rather a hurry."

We will. see to that in London. Trouble with Ethiopia is it's cold

enough to emasculate a brass monkey in the highlands, and like a sauna

bath down in the gorge."

He crossed to the board and began to check off the items on his list.

"We will both start malarial prophylactics immediately. We are going

into an area of chloroquineresistant . falciparum mosquitoes, so I will

put you on Mefloquine "He worked swiftly through the list.

"Of course all your travel documents are in order, or you wouldn't be