Текст книги "Elephant Song"

Автор книги: Wilbur Smith

Соавторы: Wilbur Smith
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Taffari, leaned forward and listened with interest as Cheng pointed out the way in which he had restructured almost the entire syndicate operation.

At the end of the lecture Taffari's admiration was unconcealed.  You have accomplished all this in the short time since you arrived in Ubomo? he asked, but Cheng shook his head.  Not all of it, Your Excellency. Some of the replanning was done before I left Taipei.  I had the benefits of my father's advice and the assistance of his headquarters staff at Lucky Dragon.

Only part of the planning was necessitated after my arrival in Kahali, on the advice of my field-manager, and his report on the conditions and problems we have encountered in the forest.  Remarkable!

Taffari shook his head.  Sir Peter Harrison's opinion of you seems to be well founded.  Planning is one thing, Cheng pointed out modestly.

Execution is another thing entirely.  I am sure that you will bring the same energy and drive to that part of the operation.  Taffari looked at his wristwatch.  I am expecting a guest for lunch.  . I am sorry, Your Excellency.  I have overstayed my welcome.

Cheng made as if to rise.  Not at all, Mr.  Ning.  I absolutely insist that you join us for lunch.  It may amuse you to meet my other guest, a member of the film team which Sir Peter Harrison has hired.

Ah, yes.

Cheng looked dubious.  Sir Peter explained to my father and myself why he had invited a film company to Ubomo.  I am not certain that I agree with him, however.  The English have a saying about sleeping dogs.  In my view, it may be better not to draw world attention to our operations. I would like to cancel the project and send the film team out of Ubomo. I am afraid it is too late for that.  Taffari shook his head.

We have already– received a great deal of adverse publicity.

There is a woman, a protegee of the previous presidents Omeru.  . .

For another ten minutes they discussed Sir Peter's plan to defuse Kelly Kinnear's propaganda campaign by a countercampaign of their own. In any event, Taffari pointed out, we can always suppress anything we don't like about this film production.  Sir Peter Harrison has an approval clause written into the contract.  We can even suppress the final product completely, and destroy all copies of the film, if we feel that is advisable.  of course, you are taking precautions to make certain that these people do not get to see any of our sensitive areas?

The convict labour camps, the main logging operations, and the refill mining?  Trust me, Mr.  Ning.  They will see the pilot scheme only.  I have a reliable military officeraccompanying them at all times.  He broke off at the sound of an approaching vehicle.  Aht That would be the person we are discussing, the cameraman and Captain Kajo.

Cameraman?

Cheng asked, as ihey watched Bonny Mahon and Captain Kajo cross the lawn towards them.  Inaccurate, I agree, Taffari chuckled.  But is there such a term as camerawoman, I wonder?  He stood up and went to meet his guest.

Captain Kajo came to attention and saluted.  Taffari ignored him.

Kajo's job was done.  He had delivered Bonny.  He turned on his heel and returned to wait in the army Landrover.  He knew it might be a long wait.

Cheng studied the woman as Taffari led her down the verandah.  She was too big and bosomy.  She had no delicacy of bone structure nor refinement of feature.  Both her nose and mouth were too large for his taste.  Her freckled skin and coppery hair repelled him.  Her voice and laughter, as she joked with Taffari, were loud and vulgar.  Her confident attitude and powerful limbs made Cheng feel threatened as though she were challenging his masculinity.  He did not like a woman to be as strong and assertive as a man.  He compared her unfavourably with the dainty ivory-skinned women of his own race, with their straight black hair and submissive self-effacing manner.

However, he rose politely and smiled and shook her hand, and saw that Taffari was quite smitten by the woman.

He knew that Taffari had a dozen Hita wives who were amongst the most beautiful of the tribe, but he supposed that the president was attracted by the novelty of this gross creature.

Perhaps he felt that it would add to his status to have a white woman as a plaything.  However, Cheng guessed shrewdly that he would tire of her soon enough and discard her as casually as he had taken her up.

Mr.  Ning is the chief executive officer of the Ubomo Development Corporation, Taffari told Bonny.  Technically he is your boss.  Bonny chuckled.  Well, I can report that we are doing a hell of a job, boss.

I am delighted to hear that, Miss Mahon!  Cheng was unsmiling.  It is an important task that you are undertaking.

What have you accomplished so far?  We've been working here in Kahali and on the lake.  We've already filmed the site of the new hotel and casino.

Both Cheng and Taffari listened seriously to her report.  Where are you moving to after this?  Cheng wanted to know.  After we finish here we are driving up-country to the forest area.  A place called Sengi-Sengi. Have I got that right, Your Excellency?  She looked at Taffari.

Quite right, my dear Miss Mahon, Taffari assured her.  Sengi-Sengi is the corporation's pilot scheme for utilising the forest assets.

Cheng nodded.  I will be visiting the project myself at the very first opportunity.  Why don't you come up to Sengi-Sengi while we are filming?

Bonny suggested.  it would give much more weight to the production to have you in it, Mr.  Ning.  She paused as another thought struck her, and then with a boyish grin she turned to Ephrem Taffari.  But it would really be terrific to have you in the production, Mr.  President.  We could interview you on the site of the project at Sengi-Sengi.  You could explain to us your hopes and dreams for your country.  just think of that, Your Excellency.

Ephrem Taffari smiled and shook his head.  I'm a busy man.

I don't think I could spare the time.  But she could see he was tempted.

He was enough of a politician to relish the prospect of favourable exposure to a wide audience.  It would be very valuable, she urged him.

For both Ubomo and your personal image.  People out there in the big world have heard about you only vaguely.  If they could see you, it would change their whole perception.  I assure you from a professional point of view that you would look plain bloody marvelous on the screen.

You are tall and handsome and your voice is sensational.  I swear I'd make you look like a film star.  He liked the idea.  He liked the flattery.  Well, perhaps.  . . They both realised that he wanted to be persuaded just a little longer.  You could fly up to Sengi-Sengi by helicopter, Bonny pointed out.  It would take half a day, no more.  . .

She paused and pouted suggestively and touched his arm.  Unless, of course, you decided to stay over for a day or two.  That would be okay by me, also.  Daniel and Bonny, accompanied as always by Captain Kajo, drove up from Kahah.  Although it was only a little over two hundred miles it took them two full days, for much of that time was spent not in travelling but in filming the changing countryside and the rural tribes in their traditional manyattas that they found along the way.

Captain Kajo was able to smooth the way and negotiate with the tribal elders.  For a few Ubomo shillings he arranged that they had the run of any of the Hita villages that they passed.

They filmed the young girls at the water-holes, clad only in tiny beaded skirts as they bathed and plaited each other's hair.  The unmarried girls dressed their coiffures with a mixture of cow dung and red clay until it was an intricate sculpture on top of their heads, adding inches to their already impressive height.

They filmed the married -women as they returned to the village in long files clad in flowing red matronly togas, swaying gracefully under brimming calabashes of water drawn from the spring.

They filmed the herds of dappled, multi-coloured cattle with their wide horns and humped backs against 4 background of flat-topped acacia and golden savanna grasslands.

They filmed the herdboys bleeding a great black bull, twisting a leather thong around its neck to raise the congested vein beneath the skin, then piercing it with the point of an arrow and capturing the scarier stream of blood in a bottle-shaped calabash.  When the gourd was half filled they sealed the wound in the bull's neck with a handful of clay, and topped up the calabash with milk stripped directly from the udder.  Then they added a dash of cow's urine to curdle the mixture into thick cheesy curds.  Low cholesterol, Daniel pointed out when Bonny gagged theatrically.  And look at those Hita figures.  I'm looking, Bonny assured him.  Oh, hallelujah, I'm looking-" The men wore only a red blanket over one shoulder, held with a belt at the waist.

They allowed the skirts to flap open casually in the breeze, especially when Bonny was nearby.  They let her film as much as she wished of everything they possessed, staring into the lens with masculine arrogance, the elongated loops of their earlobes stopped with bone and ivory earrings.

On the main road their Landrover passed ore trucks and logging trailers coming in the opposite direction.  The weight of these massive vehicles, even though spread over a dozen axles and banks of massive tyres, rutted the road deeply and raised a fog of dust that covered the trees for a mile on both sides of the roadway with a thick coating of dark red talcum.  Bonny gloried in the effect of the sunlight through the dust cloud and the shapes of the trucks lumbering out of it like prehistoric monsters.

When at last, on the second day, they crossed the river on the ferry and reached the edge of the great forests, even Bonny was awed by the height and girth of the trees.  They're like pillars holding up the sky, she breathed as she turned her camera upon them.  The quality of the air and light changed as they left the dry savannah behind them and entered this humid and lush forest world.

At first they followed the main highway with its milewic open verges.

Then, after fifty miles, they turned off on to one of the new development roads, freshly cut into the virgin forest.

The deeper they journeyed into the forest, the closer the trees crowded the roadway, until at last their high branches met overhead and they were in a tunnel filled with dappled and greenish light.

Even the bellow of the truck engines that passed them seemed muted, as though the trees were blanketing and absorbing the alien and offensive sound.  The surface of the road had been corduroyed with logs laid side by side, and over this was spread a layer of flinty gravel to give the great trucks footing.  The returning ore trucks bring the gravel back from the quarries near the lakeshore, Captain Kajo explained.  If they did not, the road would become a bottomless swamp of mud.  It rains almost every day here.  Every mile or so there were gangs of hundreds of men and women working on the road, spreading gravel and laying new logs to hold the surface together.

Who are they?  Daniel asked.  Convicts, Kajo dismissed them lightly.

Instead of spending money keeping them locked up and fed, we let them work off their debt to society.  A lot of convicts for such a small country, Daniel pointed out.  You must have a lot of crime in Ubomo.

The Uhali are a bunch of rogues, thieves and troublemakers, Kajo explained and then shuddered as he looked beyond the toiling lines of prisoners to the impenetrable forest behind them.

Kajo was standing in front of Daniel, obscuring him for the moment with his six foot six height.  Now he moved aside, and Daniel and the field-manager confronted each other.  Mr.  Chetti Singh, Daniel said softly.  I never expected to see you again.  What a great pleasure this is.  The bearded Sikh stopped as though he had walked into a glass wall and stared at Daniel.  You know each other?  Captain Kajo asked.  What a happy coincidence.  We are old friends, Daniel replied.  We share a common interest in wildlife, especially elephants and leopards.  He was smiling as he extended his hand to Chetti Singh.  How are you, Mr.

Singh?

Last time we met you had suffered a little accident, hadn't you?

Chetti Singh had turned a ghastly ashen colour beneath his dark complexion, but with an obvious effort he rallied from the shock.  For a moment his eyes blazed and Daniel thought he might attack him.  Then he accepted Daniel's pretence of friendliness, and tried to smile, but it was like an animal baring its teeth.

He reached out to accept Daniel's proffered handshake, but he used his left hand.  His right sleeve was empty, folded back and pinned upon itself.  The blunt outline of the stump showed through the striped cotton.  Daniel saw that the amputation was below the elbow.  It was a typical mauling injury.  The leopard would have chewed the bone into fragments that no surgeon could knit together again.  Although there were no scars or other injuries apparent at a glance, Chetti Singh's once portly body had been stripped of every ounce of superfluous fat and flesh.  He was thin as an AIDS victim, and the white of his eyes had an unhealthy yellowish tinge.  It was obvious that he had been through a bad time, and that he was not yet fully recovered.

His beard was still thick and glossy, curled up under his chin, the ends tucked into his spotless white turban.  Indeed, what an absolute pleasure to see you again, Doctor.  His eyes gave the lie to the words.

Thank you for your kind sympathy, but happily I am fully recovered, except for my missing appendage.  He wiggled the stump.  It's-a nuisance, but I expect to receive full compensation for my loss from those responsible, never mind.  His touch was cool as a lizard's skin, but he withdrew his hand from Daniel's and turned to Bonny and Kajo.

His smile became more natural and he greeted them cordially.  When he turned back to Daniel he was no longer smiling.  And so, Doctor, you have come to make us all famous with your television show.  We shall all be film stars.  . . He was watching Daniel's face with a strange greedy expression, like a python looking at a hare.

The shock of the meeting had been almost as great to Daniel as it had obviously been to the Sikh.  Of course, Mike Hargreave had told him that Chetti Singh had survived the leopard attack, but that had been months ago and he had never expected Chetti Singh to turn up here in Ubomo, thousands of miles from where he had last seen him.  Then, when he thought about it, he realised that he should really have been prepared for this.

There was a strong link between Ning Cheng Gong and the Sikh.  If Ning were placed in charge in Ubomo, he would naturally appoint as his assistant somebody who knew every wrinkle of the local terrain, and who had his networks securely in place.

In retrospect, it was obvious that Chetti Singh had been the perfect choice for Ning.  The Sikh's Organisation had infiltrated every country in central Africa.  He had agents in the field.  He knew whom to bribe and whom to intimidate.  But most of all, he was totally unscrupulous and bound toNing Cheng Gong in loyalty and fear and greed.

Daniel should have expected Chetti Singh to be lurking inNings shadow, should have been prepared to face his vengeance.  It did not need the expression in Chetti Singh's eyes to warn him that he was in mortal danger.

The only escape from Sengi-Sengi was along the single roadway through the forest, every mile of which was controlled by company guards and numerous military road-blocks.

Chetti Singh was going to try to kill him.  There could not be a single doubt of that.  He had no weapon nor any other form of defence.

Chetti Singh commanded the ground and could choose the time and the place to do it.

Chetti Singh had turned back and was chatting to Captain Kajo and Bonny.

It is too late already for me to offer to show you around.  It will be dark in a short while.  You will want to move into the quarters we have prepared for you He paused and beamed at them genially.  Besides which, I have exciting news for you.  I have just this minute received a fax from Government House in Kahali.  President Taffari, in the very flesh, is coming to Sengi-Sengi by helicopter.  He will arrive tomorrow morning and he has most graciously consented to a film interview on the site of our operation here.  It is a great.

honour, I assure you.  President Taffari is not a man to be taken lightly, and he will be accompanied by the chief executive officer of UDC, none other than our own Mr.  Ning Cheng Gong.  He is another eminently important personage.  Perhaps he will also consent to play a part in your production.  .

It was raining again as Chetti Singh's secretary showed them to the quarters that had been set aside for them.  The rain rattled like birdshot on the roofs of the buildings and the already saturated earth steamed with a mist that was blue as smoke in the twilight beneath the forest canopy.

Wooden catwalks had been laid between the buildings and the secretary provided them with cheap plastic umbrellas gaudily emblazoned with the slogan: UDC means a better life for all.

The guest quarters were a row of small rooms like stables in a long Nissen hut.  Each room contained rudimentary furniture bed, chair, cupboard and desk.  There was a communal washroom and lavatory in the centre of the long hut.

Daniel checked his own room carefully.  The door had a lock that was so flimsy that it would yield to any determined pressure, besides which Chetti Singh certainly had a duplicate key.  The window was covered by a mosquito screen and there was a mosquito net hanging above the bed, none of which was any protection.  The walls were so thin that he could hear Kajo moving around in the room beside his.

It was going to be a pleasant stay.

Okay, folks, we'll have a competition, he grinned ruefully to himself.

Guess when Chetti Singh will make his first attempt to bump us off.

First prize is a week's holiday at Sengi-Sengi.

Second prize is two weeks holiday at Sengi-Sengi.

Dinner was served in the mess for senior staff.  It was another Nissen hut comfortably furnished as a bar and canteen.  When Daniel and Bonny entered there was a mixed bag of Taiwanese and British engineers and technicians filling the mess with cigarette smoke and noisy chatter.

Nobody took much notice of him, but Bonny caused a mild sensation, as usual, especially with the group of Brits playing darts and drinking lager at the bar.

The Taiwanese seemed to be keeping to themselves and Daniel sensed a tension between the two groups.  This was confirmed when one of the British engineers told Daniel that since Ning had taken over UDC, he had been ousting the British engineers and managers and replacing them with his own Taiwanese.

Bonny was instantly adopted by the British contingent and after dinner Daniel left her playing darts with a couple of beefy mining engineers.

She intercepted Daniel heading for the door and she grinned at him maliciously as she whispered, Enjoy your lonely bed, lover.  He grinned back at her as icily.  I never did like a crowd.  As he made his way through the darkness along the slippery mud-caked catwalk, a spot in the centre of his back itched.  It was the spot into which somebody sneaking up behind him might stick a knife.  He quickened his pace.

When he reached the door of his room in the Nissen hut, he pushed it open but hung back for a minute.  There could be somebody waiting for him in the darkened room.  He gave them a chance to move before he slipped his arm around the door frame and switched on the overhead light.  Only then did he venture in cautiously.  He locked the flimsy door and drew the curtains and sat on the bed to unlace his boots.

There were just too many ways that Chetti Singh could choose to do it. He knew he couldn't guard against them all.  At that moment he felt something move under the bedclothes on which he was sitting.  It was a slow, stealthy, reptilian sliding movement beneath the thin sheet and it touched his thigh.  An icy dart of fear shot up his spine, stiffening every muscle in his body.

He had always had an unreasoning fear of snakes.  One of his earliest memories was of a cobra in his nursery.  It had only been a few months after his fourth birthday, but he vividly remembered the grotesque shadow that the reptile's extended hood had thrown upon the nursery wall as it reared in the diffuse beam of the nightlight that his mother had placed beside his bed.  He remembered the explosive hisses with which the snake had challenged his own wild and terrified screams, before his father had burst into the nursery in his pyjamas.

Now he knew with the utmost certainty that the thing beneath the sheet was a snake.  He knew that Chetti Singh or one of his men had placed it there.  It must be one of the more deadly species, one of the mambas, slim and glittering with their thin grinning lips, or a forest cobra, black as death, or one of the thick repulsive gaboon adders.

Daniel sprang from the bed and spun around to face it.  His heart hammered wildly as he looked around for a weapon.  He snatched up the flimsy chair, and with the strength of his fear tore off one of the legs.

With this weapon in his hand he regained control of himself.  He was still breathing rapidly and he experienced a quick rush of shame.  As a game ranger he had stood down the determined charges of buffalo and elephant and the great killer cats.  As a soldier he had parachuted into enemy territory and fought it out in hand-to-hand combat, but now he was panting and shaking at a phantom of his imagination.

He steeled himself to go back to the bed.  With his left hand he took the corner of the sheet, raised the chair leg with the other hand and flung back the bedclothes.

A striped forest mouse was in the centre of the white sheet.  It had long white whiskers and its bright inquisitive button eyes blinked rapidly in the sudden light.

Daniel was barely able to arrest the blow that he had already launched at it, and he and the tiny creature stared at each other in astonishment.  Then his shoulders sagged and shook with nervous laughter.  The mouse squeaked and leapt off the bed.  It darted across the floor and vanished into a hole in the wainscoting and Daniel collapsed on to the bed and doubled up with laughter.  My God, Chetti Singh, he gasped.  You won't stop at anything, will you?  What other nefarious tricks have you got up your sleeve?  The helicopter came in from the east.  They heard the whoppity-wop of its rotors long before it appeared in the hole in the forest canopy high above.  It descended into the clearing with all the grace of a fat lady lowering herself on to a lavatory seat.

The helicopter was a French-built Puma and it was obvious that it had seen many years of hard service, probably with a few other airforces, before it had reached Ubomo.

The pilot cut the motors and the rotors slowed and stopped.

President Taffari vaulted down from the main hatch.  He was lithe and vitally handsome in combat fatigues and parachutist's boots.  Bonny moved in with the camera and he flashed a smile as bright and almost as wide as the medal ribbons on his chest, and stepped forward to greet the reception committee headed by Chetti Singh.

Behind him Ning Cheng Gong used the boarding ladder to descend from the Puma.  He was dressed in a cream-coloured tropical suit.  His skin was almost a matching creamy yellow that contrasted strongly with his eyes, dark and bright as polished onyx.

He looked around quickly, searching for somebody or something; and he saw Daniel standing back, out of camera shot.

Ning Cheng Gong's eyes licked Daniel's face for only an instant, like the black tongue of an adder, and then were past.

His expression did not change.  There was not the least sign of recognition, but Daniel knew with certainty that Chetti Singh had managed to get a message to his master, to warn him of Daniel's presence in Ubomo.  Daniel was startled by his own reaction.  He had known that Cheng would be on the helicopter.

He had steeled himself for the first sight of him, but still it was as much of a physical shock as a punch under the ribs.  It required an effort to respond normally to President Taffari's handshake and greeting.

Ah, Doctor; as you see, Mohammed has come to the mountain.  I have set aside the afternoon to cooperate with your filming.  What do you want me to do?  I am yours to command.  I am very grateful, Mr.

President.  I have drawn up a shooting schedule.  In all, I will need about five hours of your time, that includes make-up and rehearsal.

. Daniel resisted the temptation to glance in Cheng's direction, until Chetti Singh intervened.  Doctor Armstrong, I'd like you to meet the managing director, head of UDC, Mr.  Ning.  Daniel was almost overcome by a strange sense of unreality as he shook Ning's hand and smiled and said.  We know each other.  We met briefly in Zimbabwe, when you were ambassador there.

I don't suppose you recall?  Forgive me.  Cheng shook his head.

I met so many people in the course of my official duties.  He pretended not to remember and Daniel forced himself to keep smiling.

It seemed incredible that the last time he had seen this man was on the escarpment of the Zambezi valley, only hours before he discovered the mutilated and abused corpses of Johnny and his family.  It was as though all the sorrow and anger in him had grown stronger and more bitter for being bottled up all this time.  He wanted to shout out his rage, You filthy, greedy butcher!  He wanted to clench his fists and attack that smooth bland face, to batter it into pulp and feel the bones break under his knuckles.

He wanted to gouge out those implacable shark's eyes and pop them between his fingers.  He wanted to wash his hands inNing Cheng Gong's blood.

He turned away as soon as he could.  He could trust himself no longer.

For the first time, he faced -what he had to do.  He had to kill Ning Cheng Gong, or be killed in the attempt.

He expected no personal gratification from it.  It was the fulfilment of the oath he had sworn over the body of his friend.

It was a simple duty and a debt to the memory of Johnny Nzou.  You may think that I am standing on the bridge of a battleship.  . . Ephrem Taffari smiled into the lens of Bonny's camera, but I assure you that I am not.  This is in fact the command platform of Mobile Mining Unit Number One, known here by the affectionate acronym MOMU.  Although Taffari was the only person in camera-shot, the rest of the platform was crowded with company personnel.  The chief engineer and the geologist had briefed the president on his spiel, making certain that he had a grasp of all the technical details.  The crew of the unit were still at the command console of MOMU.  The operation of the complex machine could not be interrupted even for such an important visitor as the state president.

Daniel was directing the sequence, and both Chetti Singh and Cheng were spectators, although they kept in the background.

Bonny had seen to Taffari's make-up herself.  She was as good as any specialist make-up artist that Daniel had worked with.  I am standing seventy feet above the ground, Taffari went on.  And I am racing forward at the breathless speed of a hundred yards an hour.  He smiled at his own burnout.

Daniel had to admit that he was a natural actor, completely at ease in front of the camera.  With those look$ and with that voice he could grab the complete attention of any female audience anywhere in the world. The vehicle on which I am riding weighs one thousand tons.  . .

Daniel was making editing notes on his schedule as Taffari spoke.  At this point he would cut away to a full shot of the gigantic MOMU vehicle riding on its banks of tracks.  There were twelve separate sets of steel tracks each of them ten feet wide to give it stability over the most uneven terrain.

Steel hydraulic rams automatically adjusted the trim of the main platform keeping it on an even keel, tilting and dipping to counterbalance the ponderous wallowing, pitching movements of the tracks as they climbed and fell over the contours of the forest floor.

The size of the machine was not much less than the battleship that Taffari had suggested in his opening remarks.  It was over one hundred and fifty yards long and forty wide.

Taffari turned and pointed forward over the railing.

Down there, he said, are the jaws and fangs of the monster.

Let's go down and take a look.  It was easily said on camera, but it meant moving down to a new vantage point and setting up the angles, then rehearsing the new shot.  However, Taffari was a joy to work with, Daniel admitted.  He needed only one walk-through and he knew his lines. He delivered them with natural timing and without fluffing once, even though he was forced to raise his voice to a shout to compete with the noise of the machinery.

This shot was good cinema.  The excavators were on long gantries.

Like the necks of a herd of steel giraffe drinking at a water-hole, they moved independently, rising and falling.  The excavator blades rotated ferociously, slicing out the earth and throwing it back on to the conveyor belts.  These excavators can reach down thirty yards below the surface.  They are cutting a trench sixty yards wide and digging out over ten thousand tons of ore an hour.  They never stop.

Day and night they keep on burrowing away.  Daniel looked down into the cavernous trench that the MOMU was opening into the red earth.  It would be a good place to dispose of a corpse, his corpse.  He glanced up without warning; both Ning Cheng Gong and Chetti Singh were watching him intently.  They were still standing on the command platform seventy feet above him.  Their heads were close together, almost touching, and they were talking, their voices wiped out by the roar of the great spinning excavator heads and the thunder of the conveyor belts.  From their expressions Daniel was left with no doubt about the subject of their discussion.  For an instant he caught their eyes and then they both looked away and moved back from the rail.  After that it was difficult for Daniel to concentrate on the work in hand, yet he had to take advantage of every minute that Ephrem Taffari was available to him.