Most buildings were pre-fabricated in pastel colors and assembled on site. Married accommodation comprised detached units with multiple bedrooms, while single quarters were in blocks of five, separated from the next block by shrubbery and flower beds. Each unit had an en-suite bathroom, lounge, and kitchenette, as well as a single garage which was never used since no one had a motor vehicle. He wondered how the architects and site planners had made such an obvious oversight; maybe they believed one day the site would be connected to who-knows-where by road. That everyone got drenched in equatorial downpours on their way home was a refreshing way of life. There were a few emergency and utility vehicles but, except for John Gilmore who took his motor bike home every night, these were all stored at their stations.
As with many bachelors living away from home, James’s rooms were in need of cleaning. Most people left their air-conditioning on permanently but James preferred the fresh, humid air, especially when doing occasional housekeeping; a bit like a sauna.
A major disadvantage of the fresh-air approach was the swarms of mosquitoes that arrived at sunset; changing shift with the voracious flies which literally got up everyone’s nose during the day. Even though all rooms were fitted with sonic devices which supposedly repelled them, as well as screened-doors and windows, some still managed to get in. James had also suspended an ultra-violet attractor with an electric mesh inside the front door; it got most of the insurgents.
When he’d finished cleaning, he took a lukewarm shower and lay on the bed listening to music and contemplating the morning’s meeting. The six-foot ceiling-fan swung ominously as it forced its way through the heavy flower-scented air, pushing balmy waves over his naked body. His thoughts turned to possible worst-case scenarios; the civil war could spill into their lives and make extreme actions necessary.
Monday morning arrived suddenly around 4 am with the raucous babble of coucals in the nest behind James’s bungalow. These large noisy birds knew when dawn was coming and let everyone else know too. A naturally early riser, he didn’t mind, and took their cue; bounding out of bed, pulling on his running trunks and preparing for his daily jog around the compound. With the humidity around ninety-five percent and the temperature already nearly eighty, there was little need for a warm-up. A few stretching exercises and a glass of warmish water sufficed.
As he ran across the wet lawns dewdrops sparkled rosily in the glow of pre-dawn streetlights, the silence broken only by his footsteps padding gently on the soft grass.
Some advantages of living in this small, insular world were that there was no traffic, and no one lived more than a fifteen minute walk from work.
Except for the workaholics and fitness enthusiasts like himself, everyone had too much spare time, and boredom was a serious concern to the administrators. The relentless stifling heat made usual small-town occupations like social clubs and infidelity too much like hard work.
His route took him along the western fence near the wharf gate. The perimeter fence of the main residential and administrative compound was two miles long by one wide, with the launch pad in another one-mile-square enclosure separated by a security corridor of half a mile. This was merely a wide, surfaced road bordered by double electric fences topped with razor wire. The launch pad also had a double fence while the rest of the compound had a single mesh and razor-wire barrier.
Outside the fence was the earth airstrip and beyond that, another low fence. The fences were designed to exclude wild animals from the compound and prevent elephants from following their ancestral route to the river. After encountering the obstacles for more than five years the elephants still tried to force their way through, rather than walk two or three miles around. James thought it was more stubbornness than instinct.
As he approached the riverside fence, his thoughts were on faraway places so he didn’t see the lone buffalo next to the wire until he was very close. A gruff snort startled him and he jumped back, his heart pounding violently, hair crawling on the nape of his neck.
This was a primeval animal, confident in its natural surroundings and contemplating a trespasser through a flimsy wire fence. He was a fine old bull, two thousand pounds of pure muscle with massive horns, pitted and scarred from numerous battles. The base of the horns covered his whole forehead in solid, six-inch-thick armor.
James’s eyes locked hypnotically with the bull's unblinking black gaze. It was a brief period of exquisite danger, a subtle balance between the desire to flee and the excitement of proximity. The buffalo stood motionless, not breaking its gaze as it probed its adversary’s mind. James held his breath, cooling sweat trickling down his bare back.
Across the six-foot space between them, he could see every wrinkle and wiry-hair on the massive beast. Caked mud flaked off powerful legs above huge hooves worn by years of tramping the jungle. James felt irresistibly drawn into another world; way back to when men drew paintings on cave walls and lived in spiritual awe of such beasts. He felt as if he was falling uncontrollably into the deep, black wells of the animal’s emotionless eyes.
After what seemed an hour the bull snorted, flicked his tail, and lowered his head to the fresh green grass against the fence. Feigning disinterest his massive tongue wrenched a choice tuft from the ground with a loud rasping sound. Now that he’d assessed the situation and eliminated the possibility of threat he barely noticed James.
A warm feeling of acceptance washed over James and he relaxed to savor the closeness. It was a great pleasure to be accepted by a wild animal, even a bird, in its natural habitat. He believed animals had the ability to read man’s hostility and intentions and he took pride in passing the test.
Reluctantly he broke the spell, and backed off quietly.
Back at his quarters he took a quick shower then set off for the canteen, stopping at the laundry to drop off his clothes. The laundry was run by the ‘housewives association’ and catered mainly to bachelors. For an exorbitant fee the clothes were washed, pressed (partially and unnecessarily) and ready for collection on the way home. Some people did their own laundry, hanging the clothes out to dry on lines behind the bungalows, but the ‘putsie’ flies concerned James. The large, blue-green flies, endemic to the continent, lay eggs in damp hems of clothing. After a week the eggs hatch and the pupa crawl under the wearers’ skin to grow into maggots. Eventually, a large abscess develops and has to be surgically treated. All very unpleasant and well worth the $50 a month he spent on laundry. Orion used US dollars as currency; even the locals preferred it to Congolese francs.
At seven o’clock the air-conditioned canteen was still quiet; most people arrived for breakfast at eight and started work at nine. James preferred to start early and leave early, giving himself an hour of uninterrupted productivity before everyone else commenced work. This particular canteen was mainly used by single staff; married people with children usually ate at home or used the bigger one near the school.
He was helping himself to a huge pile of paw-paw and melon salad from the buffet when he saw a new face approaching from the glass doorway. As the petite girl got closer he could see she was naturally lovely, pronounced cheek bones and striking brown eyes set beautifully in a symmetric, oval face; rich, wavy, auburn hair pulled back into a pony-tail. She looked soft and vulnerable yet, at the same time, trim and healthy. She projected that intangible peaceful aura one finds in people who are close to nature; that elusive innocence animals recognize and respond to.
James must have been staring because she gave him a sharp, defensive look. Caught off guard, he turned and seated himself at the window, trying to concentrate on the garden outside. As he placed a cube of delicious, pale-green melon in his mouth his eyes wandered irresistibly back to the new girl.
She stood with her back to him, selecting pieces of freshly cut fruit from a long, glass serving platter. He couldn’t help noticing her smooth, shapely legs and petite ankles. He was still assessing her figure absent-mindedly when she turned and caught him staring again. Their eyes met briefly