Page 121 of Nobody's Hero

Koenig tried again.

‘We’re about to see the business end of an F-35 strike,’ he said. ‘If that doesn’t deserve a Cuban, I don’t know what does.’

Without taking his eyes off the horizon, Tas picked up his case and tapped out a cigar. He threw it towards Koenig. It flipped over in the air, like the bone the hominid throws in2001: A Space Odyssey’s opening sequence. The one he’d just used to beat a rival to death. It implied the invention of the first tool was the beginning of the hominid transition to human. It was the dawn of man. Stanley Kubrick was Koenig’s favourite director, but although he liked2001, he didn’t love it. He thought it was disjointed. Segments of the movie weren’t connected. The final scene was flawed. And if he was being hypercritical, parts were a bit boring. It hadn’t stopped him from having an original poster hanging in his hallway, though. Itwasa Stanley Kubrick film.

The cigar landed in Koenig’s lap. He made no attempt to pick it up. He stared at it. His mouth went dry. He knew what he had to do. It was the only play he had left. He felt a prickle of something. He was so surprised he didn’t immediately recognise it.

It was fear. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just thememoryof fear.

Koenig didn’t care. It was inconsequential.

So he did what he’d almost forgotten to do after all these years without it. He leaned into his fear and embraced it like an old friend.

Chapter 130

Tas had been concentrating so much on steering the NorseBoat, he’d neglected his cigar. Cigars weren’t like cigarettes; they were living things. They needed constant supervision. Leave a cigarette unattended and it burns down to the filter. Leave a cigar alone and it goes out. After he’d thrown Koenig a cigar, Tas took a draw of his own. Got nothing in return. He plucked it from his mouth and studied the end. It was dead.

He took his Zippo from his pocket and relit his Cuban, rotating the tip to get an even burn. He closed the Zippo with a practised flick, then threw it to Koenig. Koenig caught it with his right hand, and Tas went back to staring at the horizon. It seemed like he was going through the motions now. The way suicide bombers go into a semi-trance before they meet their maker.

Koenig tried to light his cigar, but the blood on his hands made the Zippo too slippery to hold. It shot from his grip like a bar of soap. Clattered along the deck, ended up back at Tas’s feet.

Whoopsie-daisy.

Koenig held up his hands to show how bloodied they were. He said, ‘Sorry.’ His eyes were half shut. The blood loss finally taking its toll.

He watched Tas pick up the Zippo. He saw him frown and look at Koenig. Suspicious. Like he was being pranked.

‘Worried you can’t take an unarmed man, Jakob?’

Ego.The bedrock of all bad decisions.

Tas scowled and made his way to the bow. He flicked the Zippo’s flint wheel. It sparked and lit the wick. A rolling, gentle flame. Like a candle. Koenig held out his cigar to warm up the end. He’d seen people do that on TV. It made the cigar easier to light. Tas reached down and held the flame underneath the end of the cigar.

‘You were wrong before, you know?’ Koenig said.

‘Oh?’

‘You said the first blade on every continent was made from stone. That it was an example of convergent evolution.’

Tas nodded.

‘But that’s not quite accurate,’ Koenig continued. ‘There’s archaeological evidence to suggest that the first blades to come out of Morocco weren’t made of stone.’

‘You have me at a disadvantage then,’ Tas said. ‘Whatwerethey made of?’

‘Bone,’ he said.

Koenig’s left arm shot out. He grabbed Tas by the collar. He bunched it up and pulled towards him. Threw his head forwards and butted him. A weak blow from a sitting position but enough to water Tas’s eyes. Tas responded by smashing his fist into the side of Koenig’s head. He felt his ear pop. His vision blurred.

Tas panted.

Koenig panted.

‘Now what?’ Tas said.

‘This,’ Koenig replied.

He reached down with his right hand and grabbed his exposed fibula. It was wet. He gritted his teeth and pulled Tas towards him with his left. By the time Tas realised what he was doing, the tip of the bone was already under Tas’s shorts and pressed against the inside of his thigh. As soon as Koenig was sure it was in the right place, he grabbed the back of Tas’s shirt with both hands. And started pulling Tas towards him.