The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [80]
“You mean the Mount Kenya Safari Club?”
“Yes.”
“Where are we going, then?”
“The Aberdares,” answered Oliver. “Except for Meru it’s probably the least-frequented national park in the country. There are a couple of game-viewing lodges, but almost no one ever drives through the park. We’ll go up into the mountains, and God help anyone who thinks he can sneak up on us there.”
“So we’ll spend the night out in the park?”
“No, it’s too dangerous—and not from your Mahdists and such,” said Oliver. “It’s no longer politically correct to shoot lions that eat cattle or attack men, so if they can capture them without killing them, they turn them loose up toward the top of the Aberdares mountain range. There’s plenty of game for them up there—buffalo, bongo, bushbuck, some other stuff—but they’ve developed a taste for men. It’s the one park where I don’t feel comfortable spending the night without even a tent.”
“So what are we doing there?”
“Buying a few hours. When it’s twilight, I’ll drive us to one of the lodges, either Treetops or the Ark. They lock up the approaches at dark, so if we time it right, even if someone figures out that we’re going there, they won’t be able to get in. And if they do, well, these lodges are raised on stilts and overlook spotlighted salt licks and water holes, and people tend to stay up all night watching the game. That’s a lot of witnesses.” He paused. “The lodges use retired white hunters as their animal spotters. I know just about all of them, so wherever we go, I should be able to get a little help guarding you when I get tired.”
“I’m pretty good at guarding myself,” said Lara.
“I know you are, but there are an awful lot of them and only one of you.”
After passing miles of cultivated fields punctuated by little groups of circular thatched huts they entered a small town that was a blend of old colonial structures, a few new stores on the major thoroughfare, and rows of shanties just off the main streets.
“Where are we?” asked Lara.
“This is Nyeri,” answered Oliver. “You’ve passed through here before. We just never stopped when we were on safari.” He pointed to a brick building. “That’s the White Rhino Inn, the counter-insurgents’ headquarters during the Mau Mau Emergency, which the politically correct types now refer to as the Battle for Independence.”
“You look like you’re pulling in there.”
“I am,” he said as the car came to a stop. “Wait here for a minute.”
It stretched to five minutes, but then he emerged from the inn, carrying two cardboard boxes and a sack filled with cans.
“What have you got?” she asked.
“Some box lunches and a dozen cans of soda pop,” he said. “Once we’re in the park there’s nothing to eat, and you were hungry two hours ago.”
“I still am,” she said. “It smells delicious.”
“There’s no law that says you can’t munch on a drumstick while we drive,” suggested Oliver, and she took him at his word, pulling out a piece of fried chicken and eating it ravenously.
They came to the entrance to the park a few moments later. Oliver left the car to enter a small kiosk and pay an entry fee, then got back in when a ranger emerged to open the gates and let him through.
“I think this is my favorite park,” he remarked as they began driving up the dirt road that wound its sinewy way up the mountain range.
“I thought all you ex-hunters liked the Northern Frontier District best.”
“For hunting, yes,” said Oliver. “They always had the biggest tuskers up there. But for beauty, I’ll take the Aberdares every time. They’re always green, and because of the altitude they’re never too hot.”
“Not that many animals, though,” she noted.
“There’s tons of animals up here, as many as anywhere except the Maasai Mara,” he replied. “But most of them are in the forest, and it’s almost impossible to get off the road until we’re above eight thousand feet in altitude.” He came to a gentle stop. “Take a look off to the side.”
She looked out the window. The mountain towered above the driver’s side of the car, but her side was parallel with the tops of some trees that grew on the downslope, and she