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  Finally done with the upper floors, they exited the stairs into the Grand Rotunda. Noise and commotion intensified as Jenkins droned on about Katanga’s high standards, their expectations, and the rule of three Cs. Courtesy, cleanliness, and control.

  They kept moving toward the Okavango wing and passed a group of school children on the way. Matt made a pained face, setting off a round of youthful giggling. Jenkins glanced back, but Matt only shrugged, which made the kids laugh even harder.

  Amid all the laughter, an unexpected pang of regret struck Matt. It was a damn shame really. Katanga offered incredible opportunities. It appeared organized and lucrative. A beehive of tourism and education.

  Limitless potential wasted by running conflict diamonds. It made no sense.

  They’d reached the end of the Okavango Hall and entered a vast medical suite. “Our state-of-the-art veterinary,” Jenkins said with pride. “The doctors here are highly trained in research and wild animal care.”

  A set of double doors with glass windows beckoned, and Matt found himself gazing into a modern exam room. Two workers in white lab coats tended a baby chimpanzee on one of the many tables. One fed the infant from a baby bottle while the other took the monkey’s measurements and noted the results on a notepad.

  “Her mother was killed by poachers.” Jenkins had stepped up to the adjoining door, his voice a mix of sadness and contempt. “She was brought to us by a southern farmer who found her hungry and crying at the edge of his land.”

  “What will happen to her?”

  “If possible, she’ll be released back to the wild. But as young as this one is, she’ll likely form too strong a bond with her human caretakers, become domesticated. Odds are better she’ll find a home in a zoo or research facility. Perhaps help us better understand her kind.”

  Sympathy for the monkey tugged at Matt. He stared at her through the window, wishing he could tell her the pain of being orphaned at a young age never faded. Learning to live with it took time. Some memories were etched in stone, like the sound of your mother’s soft voice, her gentle laughter, forever followed by her screams of terror.

  “Let’s go, Bennett.”

  Matt tore his eyes away from the scene and shook free the haunting memories. Jenkins stood holding an exterior door ajar, waiting.

  They moved outside and Matt let the sun’s warmth chase away lingering shadows. He shifted his world back into sharp focus, to blood diamonds, brutal warlords, and the stench of greed and corruption.

  Renewed by familiar determination, Matt followed Jenkins across the compound and into the glass-domed building he’d seen coming in.

  “The Oasis Pool,” Jenkins explained as they climbed a long flight of stairs to a viewing platform. “It’s a natural habitat. Right now an albino hippo is in residence.”

  Matt stepped over to the railing and gazed into another world. A long, low whistle escaped his lips as he took in a slice of wild delta complete with palm trees, boulders, and a long rock ridge that formed a semicircle around the pool, even a grassy beach of mud and stone.

  The hippo rested at the far end of the pool, but it was the crazy woman in the water with it that snagged his attention. “What’s she doing?” Matt noted several others, hard at work setting up a crane and some sort of portable lab.

  “We flew in an animal dentist from the States. She’s going to work on the hippo. It’s slated for their National Zoo in Washington DC.”

  “Animal dentist?” He tore his eyes away from the woman in the pool to look at Jenkins in surprise. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Jenkins laughed out loud. “She’s one of the best in her field and much in demand, worth every cent in getting her here. That’s her adjusting the harness.” He pointed to Ms. Crazy on her knees in the water.

  Obviously what she lacked in common sense, she made up for in bravery. Her back was turned, yet an impossible sense of familiarity tugged at him. He sure as hell didn’t know any animal dentists. He’d never even heard of one. Matt squinted, straining for a better look, but she never turned around or looked up.

  “Come on, Bennett,” Jenkins said, “we’ve lots more to see.”

  With a final curious glance at the woman in the oasis, he followed.

  * * * *

  Leaning over to double-check the harness layout, water splashed against Miranda’s face. She brushed at her eyes with her shoulder but didn’t stop aligning the harness at the bottom of the pool. Lifting a semi-conscious two-ton hippo out of the water allowed no margin for error.

  Relying on her sense of touch, she ran her hands the entire length of the sunken lattice-work canvas, double-checking the link connectors to the cable that would snap the harness around the animal. Everything felt secure.

  Satisfied, she signaled the all clear to Henri, the crane operator.

  The only piece left was Estelle. She lurked fifty feet away, fighting the anesthesia spreading in her bloodstream and madder than a hippo had a right to be. The pool had drained low enough that she was fast losing her sense of security and proved it by snorting in dazed agitation, glaring her resentment in Miranda’s direction.

  It was enough to give any sane person the willies. Even drugged, an angry hippo was a threat no one wanted to face up close and personal. There was a fundamental reason they were feared by locals more than the river crocodile. They killed more people. She really should get out of the pool.

  “Time to move, Miranda.” Jason echoed her thoughts from the safety of a side grid. He and two of Katanga’s interns were using a blunt pole to gently nudge an uncooperative Estelle toward Miranda and the harness.

  Distance narrowed as the drugged hippo lumbered closer. The lady struggled against the numbing effects of the drug, but darted with two milligrams of Etorphine, she fought a losing battle. That dosage should put her under and keep her under long enough for them to perform the needed dental procedure.

  If they worked fast.

  Miranda locked eyes with Estelle. Fury and hatred glared back. Betting on animosity to get Estelle over the harness, Miranda prayed the crane’s equipment had been well oiled. She didn’t relish becoming anyone’s chew toy.

  “That’s right, sweetie,” Miranda crooned, working to keep that anger focused on her. “You’d love nothing more than to crunch my bones, wouldn’t you?”

  Estelle stumbled nearer and Miranda took several steps back, leading her into the trap.

  A snort of pure rage erupted from the drugged hippo and she shot forward, fired by a last ditch effort to escape the inevitable.

  “Out of the pool, Miranda!” Jason yelled.

  No need for the warning. Panic-laced adrenaline raced through Miranda, and she scrambled for the safety of high ground.

  Estelle’s clumsy effort faded fast, however, lasting just long enough to get her where they needed her. The hippo stumbled over the net, Henri triggered the harness, and a sharp metallic clang rang out.

  Canvas bolted up from the pool, spraying a tidal wave as it snapped around the hippo. Seconds later, Estelle hung a foot above the water, safely immobilized.

  From the safety of the shore, Miranda’s muscles quivered in reaction and she sank onto the nearest boulder. Air wheezed out of her lungs, and she fought to calm her racing heart. This aspect of the job could be killer on the nerves.

  Estelle bellowed pitifully, thrashing in helpless despair during the final few seconds before the drug claimed her. When she stilled, a collective sigh of relief went out.

  It was also a call to action. The clock was ticking. Fueled by a second wind, Miranda jumped to her feet.

  “Let’s move people,” she shouted. “Henri, swing her over to the padding on the rock platform. Jason, watch her landing closely. We don’t want compression to complicate matters. Make sure the lady is comfortable.”

  She raced over to join Senga, Kiv, and the rest of the team by the mobile dental lab.

  “Everything still sterilized?” she ask
ed Senga as she dug into the medicine chest for the anesthesia antidote.

  “Properly irradiated and sterile packaged,” he replied.

  “Excellent.” She checked the long-needled syringe for air bubbles and laid it aside for after the procedure.

  “Kiv”—she looked the young man square in the eye—“grab the wooden brace so we can prop Estelle’s mouth open. Don’t want any missing fingers should her jaws clamp shut.”

  Uncertainty filled the young man’s eyes, and he shot a second glance at the unconscious hippo. Good. A little fear was healthy. Wild animals were unpredictable.

  Estelle now reclined on her side atop the pad-covered rocks, her head on the low end to allow drainage. The lady was drooling.

  Miranda and Jason pulled on their latex gloves, then worked together to position Estelle’s head to the best angle. Jason straddled the hippo’s neck, leaned over to grab her upper jaw, and lifted while Miranda positioned the brace in Estelle’s mouth.

  She began the inspection immediately. “Infection is setting in around that left incisor,” she said as she reached for a pick. “This girl’s been in a lot of pain. No wonder she’s cranky.”

  Jason knelt on the ground next to Estelle’s open jaws. “She’s in a bad way, doctor,” he lisped with his best mad scientist impression, rubbing his hands together. “But we can rebuild her, yes?”

  The team members laughed outright, and Miranda shook her head with a smile.

  “Yes, Igor,” she said. “But we have less than an hour. Let’s get busy!”

  Chapter 6

  “I watched you with the hippo yesterday,” Letta Mombasa said. “You’ve a strong sense of the animal kingdom.”

  Pleased by the comment, Miranda smiled at the clinician serving her residency at Katanga. Assigned the task of orienting her and Jason for their short stay, Letta had greeted them with warmth and friendliness the moment they’d arrived.

  “Estelle proved a worthy challenge.” Miranda swung her medical bag off her shoulder and dropped it on a spotless counter. “I almost came out on the losing end.”

  Letta shook her head. “You had fierce concentration,” she said with equally fierce scrubbing of an exam table. “You did not falter.”

  Compliments aside, Miranda genuinely liked the young woman. She had a beautiful smile and smooth chocolate skin that glowed with healthy radiance. She was also helpful and unafraid of hard work—two qualities Miranda admired.

  “My father is a big game veterinarian.” Miranda dug her stethoscope out of her pack and slung it around her neck. “He taught me early on to respect an animal’s primal instincts.”

  “That explains some,” Letta replied. “Yet talent such as yours cannot be taught. One is surely born with it.”

  Miranda smiled. “It takes talent to recognize talent.”

  The compliment seemed to embarrass Letta, and she dropped her eyes, turning away. As she did, her elbow knocked over a bottle of disinfectant. “Oh, dear.” She snatched the bottle upright and sighed at the pooling liquid.

  Warren Graham rounded a corner just then, grabbed a handful of paper towels, and tossed them onto the table as he walked by. “At it again, Letta?”

  Miranda frowned at his retreating back. “What’s that about?”

  “Nothing,” Letta mumbled as she wiped up the mess. “I’m a bit clumsy is all, and Mr. Graham is always gruff.”

  That she could believe. They’d met Warren Graham shortly after arriving, and for a man heading up personnel, he seemed to lack basic people skills.

  Jason poked his head into the clinic just then, flashing a sloppy grin and announcing, “I’ve found me a new love!” He pushed the door open wide and in walked a chimpanzee dressed in dark shorts and dragging a white towel behind her. She waddled straight for Letta and politely handed over the towel.

  “Thank you, Roz.” Letta tossed it in a hamper.

  Her morning chore complete, the monkey went to Miranda and gazed up in avid curiosity.

  “Meet our reigning Queen of Katanga,” Letta said as she lifted Roz to the recently cleaned exam table. “She’s a permanent resident and convinced this place revolves around her.”

  The monkey rolled her lips back in a charming grin. Miranda smiled back and extended her hand palm up in a gesture of friendship. Roz patted her hand in acceptance, then brought her hand to her forehead and down in a way of greeting.

  Miranda blinked in surprise. “She knows sign language?”

  “We taught her limited ASL,” Letta replied. “With the free reign she enjoys, we needed a way to communicate.”

  Miranda returned Roz’s gesture, the sign for hello.

  “You’ve kept journals of the process and her interactions?” Jason asked.

  “Of course,” Letta replied. “You may read them if you like.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Roz grabbed Miranda’s wrist, her large watchband a subject of intent monkey fascination. When she began tugging on the clasp, Miranda wiggled her arm loose.

  “Keep an eye on that one,” Letta warned. “Anything catching her fancy ends up missing. No one can find her hiding spot either. Somewhere on the grounds there’s a sizable cache of stolen loot.”

  “Amazing,” Jason exclaimed. “Cute, full of personality, and an eye for wealth.” He chucked Roz under the chin. “Easily Gaborone’s most eligible bachelorette.”

  They shared a round of laughter and Roz preened at the attention, gracing them with another big-lipped smile.

  Signing the word “doctor,” three fingers on an upturned wrist, Miranda gave Roz a questioning look, and the chimp snuffled in good-natured agreement.

  “Good girl,” Miranda cooed. “Let’s have a peek at those pearlies, shall we?”

  With a little encouragement, Roz opened her mouth, and Miranda did a quick inspection. “Healthy gums, no indication of periodontal disease.” She rubbed Roz under her chin in reward, then donned her stethoscope and tried to listen to her heartbeat. The chimp seized the scope instead. After a minor game of tug-o-war, Miranda managed to listen to a strong heartbeat and clear healthy lungs.

  “Fit as a fiddle!” she declared. “And strong as an ox.”

  “A perk of living at the clinic.” Letta pulled a banana chip from her pocket and handed it to the monkey. “She’s friends with the entire staff, knows more about the workings of Katanga than most people here.”

  Roz swung down off the table and, for the remainder of the morning, Miranda and Jason became acquainted with a host of animals, either permanent resident, or like Estelle, destined for zoo life. Some were rescues, too wounded or domesticated to release back to the wild, others were part of a herd-thinning or relocation program. As morning pushed toward noon, Miranda grew more impressed with Katanga’s progressive stance on protection and care of African wildlife.

  And not just in Botswana. She learned their extensive network reached as far north as Kenya and as far south as Cape Town. The potential, the overwhelming necessity of the work they did, filled her with awe. Dad had often spoke of the continent’s need for animal and environmental conservation. She’d studied and read about the challenges, but until she’d finally seen Africa with her own eyes, she’d never really understood. Katanga was a shining example of success and possibility. How she envied those who were a fixed part of such vital efforts.

  A low growl from a cheetah distracted her, and she slowly approached a pen. A resentful cat in its prime glared at her. She lifted the chart hanging on the cage just as Jason walked over and interrupted.

  “Letta offered lunch and I’m hungry,” he stated.

  “You’re always hungry,” she replied.

  “And you’re so obsessed you’d forget to eat if I weren’t here to remind you.” Jason grabbed the chart from her hands and hung it back in place.

  “Hey! I want to look—”

  “At a menu somewhere,” Jason finished for her. “Let’s go.”

  He steered
them toward the door, and she would’ve argued, but lunch did sound nice. So did a chance to explore further. They hadn’t seen much more than the Oasis Pool and clinic since they’d arrived.

  Quickly leaving behind the quiet sanctuary of the veterinary wing, they headed straight toward the Grand Rotunda, where an unholy racket grew in decibels the closer they got. Laughter and shrieks of school-aged children greeted them, cleverly disguised surround-sound speakers pumped out wilderness sounds and animal calls, and frazzled employees struggled to maintain control of the chaos.

  “There are three main wings,” Letta shouted over the din. “The Okavango holds the clinics.” She pointed as they zigzagged across the Rotunda. “The Kalahari has administrative offices, and Chobe has all the classrooms and learning centers.”

  “And wait until you see the stables,” she declared as they followed a group of school kids toward a busy cafeteria. “We’ve a special one just for giraffes. Twelve-foot doors.”

  She stopped in front of a café and pointed up at a bright green neon sign that read Atjar. “It’s a South African mango relish. Ready to eat?”

  “I’m always ready, sweetheart,” Jason replied with a wink. “Just say the word.”

  Letta’s mouth opened in a little O of surprise, and she glanced inquiringly at Miranda.

  “Ignore him,” Miranda replied. “He’s a natural born flirt.”

  “Says the woman whose love life is nonexistent,” he shot back in defense.

  Miranda glared at her assistant, but he shrugged and turned back to their guide. “Life is short, Letta. You gotta enjoy the ride.”

  “How about we just enjoy lunch?” Miranda opened the door and waved them inside.

  They followed stenciled paw prints on the floor to a chalk menu board hanging above a cashier station, and stared up at the day’s offerings. Letta helped them decide, suggesting Frikkadels for Jason, little hamburgers lightly seasoned with nutmeg, and for Miranda the Bobotie, a hot beef pie similar to English shepherd’s pie. Then they moved over to the drink line, filled up, and landed at a corner table near the exit.