The Corsican [antikvár]

PROLOGUELAOS, JANUARY 1967The road began on the outskuts of Vientiane, then followed the Mekong River west, away from the garish lights of the city. At the edge of the bush it seemed to disappear, taken by the sudden blackness of the tropical forest. There the road changed from steaming black macadam to cracked, heat-hardened earth that left the bordering vegetation covered in thick brown-black dirt, cleansed orJy when the monsoon rajns came in spring.Even at night the heat along the road was oppressive. The forest rose on each side, then closed above it, keeping out the sUght breeze that came off the river at sunset. The forest seemed to swallow everything. Only the incessant sounds of insects appeared undisturbed, thek steady beat filtering through the dense, impenetrable growth, mixing there with the occasional scream of a dying animal.The road continued for nine miles, following the sharply winding course of the river. Over the last three miles the road narrowed slightly, and there back in the bush sentry huts were set at regular intervals. Beside each hut, small, intense men squatted in silence, their eyes concentrating on the road, their presence undetectable to any who passed. Each man had an automatic weapon, and nearby a field telephone; the vegetation in front of them had been cut into gradually widening11