THE MOZAMBIQUE CHANNEL
The Afrikaner stepped into the pilot house. In some indefinable way he had changed since Amaury had last seen him on Friday. He did not have the field glasses that had been a fixture around his neck, yet he seemed just as tense.
“So, monsieur, how did you spend the past two days?”
“Mostly in a fruitless endeavor which involved unsavory types.”
“Really. Do you care to elaborate?”
“Not particularly.” He nodded ahead, at the foredeck. “Although the unsavory types I mentioned were not unlike the two in your current employ.”
“Bakari and Razi? Yes, they look like they would eat your children for breakfast, but they are good workers.”
The brothers lounged near the bow, by the ladders bungeed to the side rails. Both had dark, almost tar-black skin, broad shoulders, and round faces. But Bakari’s face was pockmarked while Razi’s was smooth, which proved handy because otherwise they’d be easy to confuse.
“Also they know how to keep their mouths shut,” Amaury added.
“How do you know?”
Amaury shrugged. “There have been times when the exotics we’ve brought back have been on certain lists.”
“Endangered species?”
“Those lists exaggerate the danger to the creatures. I take good care of them, find them good homes, but to do this I must operate—you know the expression ‘under the table’?”
The Afrikaner’s narrow lips twisted into a wry smile. “I know the expression well. I’ve had a few dealings down there myself.”
“This weekend, perhaps?”
“Not worth talking about.” Jeukens squinted ahead at the glaring water. “We seem to be moving faster than our previous trip out.”
Amaury nodded, impressed. “You have a good sense of—comment dit-on?—of velocity. Yes, I have pushed us to ten knots. Last time we had no firm destination so I was conserving fuel. This time we know where we are going. No wasting our tank on a grid search as before. We shall be able to travel out to the island and back without stopping at Toliara.”
Marten said, “I did a rough estimation from Maputo to the island and came up with a distance of just about five hundred miles, maybe a little less.”
“I came up with the same. The weather maps show no fronts coming through, so we should have calm seas. We will drop anchor there Tuesday morning.”
“Good,” Jeukens said. “And you’re sure we’ll have enough fuel to return without stopping?”
Why was he so concerned?
“Yes. We burn more fuel going out because we are heading northeast and must push against the southward flow of the channel. On the way back we head southwest so we can ride the current and make better time.”
“Excellent!”
Another question had been nagging at Amaury. “You said you were going to study the primates. Are you planning on staying behind when we head back?”
Jeukens sighed. “Not this trip. I first must get the lay of the land inside the caldera so I’ll know what I’ll need for a more extended stay. Like, are there food sources? A bunch of breadfruit and banana trees or coconut palms would make a nice supplement. What’s the drinking water situation? No, I’ll be heading back with you this trip. But next time … next time I’ll know what I’m getting into and come prepared.”
“Before we head home we will be sure to catch one of the proper sex for you.”
Jeukens frowned. “Proper sex?”
“Yes. As a mate for your little friend.”
“Mate?”
“But of course. You want a breeding pair, oui?”
“Not at all. She’s dead.”
“I am shocked. What happened?”
Jeukens pressed his fists together, thumb to thumb, and gave them a sudden, violent twist.
“I snapped her scrawny little neck.”