Chromosome 6. Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
———-
MARCH 7, 1997
6:15 A.M.
COGO, EQUATORIAL GUINEA
KEVIN’S alarm went off at six-fifteen. It was still completely dark
outside. Emerging from his mosquito net, he turned on the light to find
his robe and slippers. A cottony feeling in his mouth and a mild
bitemporal headache reminded him of the wine he’d drunk the night
before. With a shaky hand he took a long drink of the water he had at
his bedside. Thus fortified, he set out on shaky legs to knock on his
guest rooms’ doors.
The previous night, he and the women had decided that it made sense for
Melanie and Candace to spend the night. Kevin had plenty of room, and
they all agreed being together would make the departure in the morning
far easier and probably elicit less attention. Consequently, at about
eleven p.m., amid lots of laughter and gaiety, Kevin had driven the
women to their respective quarters to collect their overnight
necessities, a change of clothes, and the food they’d gotten from the
commissary.
While the women had been packing, Kevin had made a quick detour to his
lab to get the locator, the directional beacon, a flashlight, and the
contour map.
On each guest room door, Kevin had to knock twice. Once quite softly,
and when there was no response, he rapped more vigorously until he heard
a response. He sensed the women were hungover, especially after it took
them significantly longer than they planned to show up in the kitchen.
Both of them poured themselves a mug of coffee and drank the first cup
without conversation.
After breakfast they all revived significantly. In fact, as they emerged
from Kevin’s house they felt exhilarated, as if they were setting off on
a holiday. The weather was as good as could be expected in that part of
the world. Dawn was breaking and the pink and silver sky was generally
clear overhead. To the south, there was a line of small puffy clouds. On
the horizon to the west, there were ominous purple storm clouds, but
they were way out over the ocean and would most likely stay there for
the day.
As they walked toward the waterfront, they were enthralled by the
profusion of bird life. There were blue turacos, parrots, weaverbirds,
African fish eagles, and a kind of African blackbird. The air was filled
with their color and shrieks.
The town seemed deserted. There were no pedestrians or vehicles, and the
homes were still shuttered against the night. The only person they saw
was a local mopping the floor in the Chickee Hut Bar.
They walked out on the impressive pier GenSys had built. It was twenty
feet wide and six feet high. The rough-hewn planks were wet from the
humid night air. At the end of the pier, there was a wooden ramp that
led down to a floating dock. The dock seemed to be mysteriously
suspended; the surface of the perfectly calm water was hidden by a layer
of mist that extended as far as the eye could see.
As the women had promised, there was a motorized thirty-foot-long
pirogue languidly moored to the end of the dock. Long ago, it had been
painted red with a white interior, but the paint had faded or had been
scraped off in large areas. A thatched roof supported by wooden poles
extended over three-quarters of the boat’s length. Under the shelter
were benches. The motor was an antique Evinrude outboard. Tethered to
the stern was a small canoe with four narrow benches extending from
gunwale to gunwale.
‘Not bad, eh?’ Melanie said, as she grabbed the mooring line and pulled
the boat to the dock.
‘It’s bigger than I expected,’ Kevin said. ‘As long as the motor keeps
going, we should be fine. I wouldn’t want to paddle it very far.’
‘Worst-case scenario we float back,’ Melanie said undaunted. ‘After all,
we are going upriver.’
They got the gear and food aboard. While Melanie continued to stand on
the pier, Kevin made his way to the stern to examine the motor. It was
self-explanatory with instructions written in English. He put the
throttle on start and pulled the cord. To his utter surprise, the engine