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said.
    “Internal medicine and public health. I work at the
student health center at Temple U.” She paused. “Actually,
it was a combination work trip and breather. I just got
divorced.”
    She filled her water glass, shrugged.
    “Did you grow up here?” asked Robin.
    “Not really. Ready for dessert?”
    Picker watched her walk away. “Some fool in
Philadelphia’s missing out.”
    Ben eyed him. “Another bottle, Dr. Picker?”
    Picker stared back. “No thank you, amigo. Better keep
my wits. I’m flying tomorrow.”
    Jo put down her fork. Picker grinned at her.
    “Yes, darling, I’ve decided to go ahead.”
    “Flying in what?” said Ben.
    “Vintage craft, but well maintained. Man named
Amalfi owns it.”
    “Harry Amalfi? One of those crop dusters? They haven’t
flown in years.”
    “They’re quite serviceable, friend. I examined them
myself. Been buzzing jungles for fifteen years and I’m going
to buzz your poor excuse for one tomorrow morning, me and
Dr. Missus. Take some aerial photographs, prove to the boys
back at the institute that I’ve been here and that there was
nothing to dig up.”
    Jo’s fingers were gathering tablecloth. “Ly—”
    Ben said, “It’s not a good idea, Dr. Picker.”
    Picker shot him a fierce smile. “Your input is
duly noted, friend.”
    “The forest is Navy territory. You’ll need official
permission to fly over.”
    “Wrong,” said Picker. “Only the east end is Navy land.
The western half is public land, never formally claimed by
the Navy. Or so Dr. Wife here tells me from her maps.”
    “That’s true, Ly,” said Jo, “but it’s still—”
    “Zoom,” Picker spoke over her. “Up and away—would you
rather I remain bored to the point of brain death?”
    “The entire forest is one mile wide,” said Ben. “Once
you’re up there it’s going to be pretty hard to keep
track—”
    “
Concerned
about me, amigo?” said Picker, with
sudden harshness. He picked up the bourbon bottle, as if ready to
break it. Put it down with exquisite care, and got up.
    “Everyone so concerned about me.
Touching.
” His
beard was littered with crumbs. “Fonts of human
kindness
to my face, but behind my
back:
drunken
buffoon.
”
    He shifted his attention to his wife, glaring and
grinning simultaneously. “Are you coming,
angel
?”
    Her lip trembled. “You know how I feel about small
craft, Ly—”
    “Not that.
Now.
Are you coming,
now
?”
    Without taking his eyes off her, he picked up a piece of
chicken and bit in. Chewing with his mouth open, he shot a hard,
dark glance at Romero: “It’s a metaphor, friend.”
    “What is?” said Ben.
    “This place. All the other damn
bumps
in the
ocean. Volcanoes ejaculating, then dropping dead. Conquerors
arriving with high hopes only to slink away or die, the
damned coral parasites taking over, everything sinking. Entropy.”
    Jo put down her fork. “Excuse us.”
    Picker tossed the chicken onto a plate and took her
arm roughly.
    “Everything sinks,” he said, pulling her away.

Chapter
    5
    Pam came back carrying a huge bowl of fruit. She eyed the
empty chairs.
    “They left,” said Ben.
“They’re renting one of Harry’s crop dusters and buzzing the
jungle tomorrow morning.”
    “In one of those wrecks? Are they safe?”
    “I tried to talk him out of it. He’s a
world-class explorer.” He arched his eyebrows.
    She put the bowl down and sat. “I’m afraid sometimes
Dr. Picker gets a little .   .   . difficult.”
    “Nice of your father to put them up all this time,” I
said.
    She and Ben exchanged looks.
    “They kind of invited themselves,” she said. “Dad’s a
soft touch. Apparently, she’s quite a prominent researcher.”
    “What about him?”
    “He works part-time for some wildlife organization with
a shoestring budget. Studying some fungus or other. I get the
feeling he’s having trouble finding grant money. I guess it’s
difficult. .   .   . Dad should be here any moment.”
    She