Peak (14 page)

Josh was right. Second tries were virtually unheard of on Everest. If you fail you have to return to Base Camp. There's not enough oxygen at the other camps to get your strength back and recover. It takes three days to get back to Base Camp with a night at Camp Six and a night at ABC. Five days at Base Camp (longer if you're really hammered), then back up, which can take eight or nine days—all together nearly three weeks. It would be mid-June before I could make another attempt, long after my fifteenth birthday. Climbers have been stopped one hundred yards from the summit (by weather, exhaustion, or time) and have never made another attempt as long as they lived.

"Here's what I'm thinking," Josh continued. "There's a couple signed up to go to Camp Four, but they're strong enough to go a lot higher. In fact, they have a better chance of getting to the summit than most of the others on the team. If we put them on the two scratched permits it would increase our summit percentage by at least twenty percent."

"Did you talk to them?" Thaddeus asked.

"Yeah, but no promises. I wanted to discuss our options first."

"I think you should send Sun-jo to the summit," Holly said, startling all of us. Uncharacteristically, she had slipped into the tent quietly.

"Who?" Josh asked, annoyed.

"Zopa's grandson," Holly answered.

This sure got everyone's attention. We stared at Sun-jo and Zopa with our mouths hanging open. I think my mouth was open a little more than the others. Josh looked like he had been slapped in the face. Why hadn't Sun-jo told me that Zopa was his grandfather?

Sun-jo sat with his chin cupped in his hands, seemingly oblivious to our shock.

"What's your father's name?" Josh asked him.

"His name was Ki-tar Sherpa," Sun-jo answered.

"I knew him," Josh said quietly. "I didn't know he had a son." He looked over at Zopa and gave him his trademark grin. "What are you up to?"

Zopa answered with a shrug. None of us believed him. There was a lot more to this than Josh, Sun-jo, and Zopa were letting on.

Josh looked back at Sun-jo. "How old are you?"

"I'm fourteen years old," he answered.

I think we had just gotten to the main reason Zopa had agreed to leave the Indrayani temple and take me to Base Camp.

Josh was no longer grinning, nor was anyone else, especially me. I considered Sun-jo a friend. He must have known about a summit attempt back in Kathmandu. He certainly knew that Zopa was his grandfather. I should have guessed something was up when Zopa outfitted him in my climbing gear. Holly clearly had been let in on the secret, which might explain why Zopa had all but carried her up to ABC.

"When is your birthday?" Josh asked.

Sun-jo looked at Zopa, who gave him a nod.

"May thirty-first."

Six days before my birthday.

Josh was visibly relieved, but only for a second.

"How do we know that?"Thaddeus asked.

Sun-jo reached into the pocket of his (my) parka and produced a tattered piece of paper sealed in a Ziploc plastic bag. He pulled out the paper and handed it to Thaddeus.

"This is in Nepalese,"Thaddeus said.

Josh took it from him and read it over. "No, it's Tibetan," he corrected, then looked back at Sun-jo. "You were born in Tibet?"

"Yes, sir," Sun-jo answered. "I was five when my father managed to get my mother and me across the border into Nepal. I am a free Tibetan."

"There is no such thing," Josh said. "How did you get back into Tibet? You certainly didn't use
this.
" He handed the piece of paper back.

"Forged documents," Zopa said.

Josh swore. "Well, your grandson isn't going to be a
free
Tibetan for long if Captain Shek finds out about the bogus papers," Josh said. "They'll arrest him. You'll probably be hauled away, too."

This explained Sun-jo's disappearing act whenever the soldiers were around.

"A summit attempt is worth the risk," Zopa commented.

Josh looked at Sun-jo for a moment, then back at Zopa. "I owe you, Zopa, but I haven't decided if Sun-jo's getting a shot at the top. And besides, we don't have enough climbing Sherpas to get three teams to the top. And that's what we're talking about. Three separate teams."

"Yogi and Yash," Zopa said.

Josh laughed and shook his head. "You had this all figured out before you left Kathmandu, didn't you?"

Zopa didn't answer, but it was clear he had.

"Maybe you and I should go someplace a little more private to talk about this," Josh suggested.

"That is up to you," Zopa said. "But I don't mind speaking about it here."

"Suit yourself." Josh looked at everyone in turn but lingered when he got to Holly. "This is totally off the record. Nothing we say here is to leave this tent—and I mean ever. If the Chinese get wind of this they could shut down our expedition—but worse, they might grab Sun-jo and put him in prison."

I thought of the shackled road gang we had passed after we crossed the Friendship Bridge and gave an involuntary shudder. I was mad at Sun-jo, but I didn't wish that on anyone. Being arrested in the U.S. was nothing like being arrested in Tibet. I looked at him. He seemed worried, almost as if it had just dawned on him what would happen if Captain Shek caught him with false papers.

Everyone nodded in agreement, although I think the film crew would have loved to have their camera rolling. (Not that Josh would let them use any of the footage in the final documentary.)

"Sun-jo's mother was born in a small village on this side of the mountain," Zopa explained. "My son met her on an expedition. It took him years to get her and Sun-jo out of Tibet into Nepal. Sun-jo is both Tibetan and Nepalese."

"The Chinese won't see it that way if Sun-jo gets caught up here," Josh said.

"If we put him on the summit they'll never give us a climbing permit for the north side again!" Thaddeus shouted. "That could take away half our business. The Tibet route is harder than the Nepal route. It has more prestige. By bringing Sun-jo here you've jeopardized our entire season. And for what? If Peak and Sun-jo make it to the top, Sun-jo still won't be the youngest to reach the summit."

"But he would be the youngest free Tibetan to summit," Zopa pointed out. "It's a matter of national pride."

"We're in business," Thaddeus said. "Not politics."

"What is the difference?" Zopa said.

"Enough," Josh said. He looked over at JR. "How's the filming going?"

"Okay," JR answered. "We have some decent climbing sequences, a couple of good interviews."

I cringed a little hearing this. He couldn't be talking about the interviews with me.

"Any footage of Sun-jo?"

"A lot. He and Peak have been climbing together. What are you thinking?"

"Yeah," Thaddeus added a little belligerently, "what
are
you thinking?"

"I'm not sure yet," Josh said. He looked over at me. "How do you feel about sharing the glory?"

"You've gotta be kidding me," Thaddeus said.

Josh ignored him. "What do you think, Peak?"

I wasn't doing this for the glory. Or was I? I looked over at Sun-jo and Zopa. They were both stone-faced. I was furious with both of them—Sun-jo more than Zopa because Zopa never told anybody anything.

I wanted to tell Josh to send Sun-jo packing back to Nepal, but instead, without much enthusiasm, I said, "It's okay with me."

"Can I talk to you, Josh?"Thaddeus asked. "Alone."

"Sure."

After they left everyone sat there for a few moments without saying anything. JR finally broke the silence.

"Poker?" He pulled a deck of cards out of his parka.

"Might as well," Sparky said. "Josh and Thaddeus could be a while."

"I'm in," Holly said.

I walked over to where Sun-jo and Zopa were sitting.

"Thank you for supporting me," Sun-jo said.

"You should have told me."

"I did," Sun-jo said, glancing at Zopa guiltily. "At least indirectly."

"What are you talking about?"

"Our first night at ABC," he answered. "I talked about how if
we
got up to Camp Four
we
had a good chance at the summit."

He was right about it being indirect. I barely remembered the one-sided conversation. "That's pretty lame," I said.

Zopa came to his defense. "Sun-jo did not know in Kathmandu," he said. "He thought I was taking him here to become a Sherpa. It wasn't until we were on our way to ABC that I told him about the summit."

So Josh and I weren't the only ones Zopa played cagey with. I glanced over at the poker game, which was in full swing, with a pile of money in the center of the table. They were lucky Zopa wasn't playing.

"I'm going over to the mess tent for some tea," Zopa said.

I waited until he was out of the tent, then asked Sun-jo why he hadn't told me that Zopa was his grandfather.

"Zopa thought it best if we kept that to ourselves," he answered.

If Zopa asked me to keep something to myself I probably would have, too, but it still bothered me that Sun-jo didn't tell me.

Zopa returned with a thermos of tea and several mugs. I took my mug over and watched them play poker. I wasn't really interested in the game, but I didn't want to hang with Zopa and Sun-jo. Holly won every hand, much to everyone's annoyance.

About twenty minutes later Josh and Thaddeus came back into HQ. At first I thought Thaddeus had gotten his way because he was all smiles. Sun-jo noticed his expression, too, and looked disappointed.

"All right," Thaddeus said, smiling at Sun-jo and Zopa. "You've got your shot at the summit."

"You're all heading back up to ABC the day after tomorrow," Josh added.

The film crew groaned.

BEAR AND BULL

THREE TEAMS: A, B, AND (SHH!) C.

We were the C team: Sun-jo, me, the film crew, and Holly—led by Zopa, Yogi, and Yash. (I guess the brothers had not hitched a ride to find a job on the mountain. They already had a job. Zopa had hired them to help him get Sun-jo to the summit.) And I think the C stood for "covert," not third, because we were getting the first summit shot, not the last, and somehow we were supposed to keep all of this quiet.

The night before, Josh and Thaddeus hadn't told us to outright
lie
to the other climbers, but they came pretty close to it.

"We'll have to keep this to ourselves," Thaddeus had said, lowering his voice despite the fact that it was ten degrees below zero outside and the wind was howling down the mountain at about twenty-five miles an hour. It wasn't likely someone was standing outside the flap eavesdropping.

"Thaddeus is right," Josh agreed. "Some of the other climbers are real head cases. There'll be a fight over who goes first. It's ridiculous, but it's the same every year. They can't get it into their oxygen-starved brains that reaching the summit has nothing to do with the order you climb. It depends on the weather."

Josh was fudging this a little. Sitting at Base Camp, or up at ABC waiting your turn, increases your chances of catching a virus or twisting an ankle, to say nothing of the sheer boredom and psychological damage of lying in your cramped tent day after day wondering if you are going to make it to the top.

We were getting the first shot because of my birthday. Period. It could take every one of those thirty-plus days to get me to the top before I turned fifteen.

"In case anyone asks," Thaddeus said, "this is what we're doing." He looked at the film crew. "You're making a documentary about Sherpas." He looked at Holly. "You're writing a story about Sherpas." He looked at me. "You're just tagging along to help with the filming. As far as anyone knows, a summit attempt is not part of the documentary."

"Sun-jo's going to have to move to the porter camp tonight," Josh said. "It's the only way we can keep him under wraps. Can you arrange that, Zopa?"

Zopa nodded.

Josh looked at Sun-jo. "Captain Shek and the soldiers rarely go to the porter camp, but just to be safe, you need to dress and act like a porter. No fancy western climbing clothes. The porters are hauling supplies up the mountain the day after tomorrow. You'll all go with them. When you get to Intermediate Camp, out of sight of the Chinese, you can change into your climbing gear. When you come back down you'll need to change your clothes and stick with the porters. If Shek catches you, you're toast."

"Toast?" Sun-jo asked.

"You'll be chipping boulders into gravel," I explained.

"Oh." A look of dread crossed Sun-jo's usually calm and cheerful face.

"So," Josh continued, "Zopa will lead the C team. I'll lead the A team. And Pa-sang will lead the B team."

I was disappointed that I wouldn't be trying for the summit with my father, but I wasn't surprised. ("Change of plans" had been the theme of our relationship my whole life.) I was also worried about Zopa and Sun-jo.

"Paranoia feeds on thin air..."That's a direct quote from one of Josh's climbing books, and the feeling was beginning to gnaw at my guts.

With Sun-jo in the mix it seemed to me that he and Zopa had everything to gain if I didn't make it to the summit. I'm not saying that they would try to stop me, but even the slightest mistake, accidental or intentional, could end my climb. And no one would be the wiser. Bad things happen on mountains. It's part of every climb. And when something goes wrong it's usually blamed on bad equipment, bad weather, bad luck—rarely on the climbers themselves.

"Any questions?" Josh asked.

I had a couple dozen questions, like: If Zopa could get forged papers good enough to get Sun-jo over the Friendship Bridge, why should we trust his tattered birth certificate? He could be six months younger than me for all we knew. Zopa knew exactly when my birthday was. He was there when Mom radioed Josh on Annapurna.

Was Josh hedging his bets by sending Sun-jo up with me? If I didn't make it, Josh's company would still receive the credit for getting the youngest climber to the top of Mount Everest. Sun-jo was on his climbing permit. Did it really matter to Josh which of us made it to the top?