Ch 15 - A Mystery Under The Moonlight

The shortest route was a 1245 km way, and it

took us almost fifteen hours to make it. Lucy and I sat in

the back seat, Keene being our obligatory driver.

Sometimes I noticed Keene's eyes searching the rearview

mirror, looking for one or the other of us, maybe both.

Whenever he did it, he met Lucy's steady eyes that

returned his bitterness, forcing him to lower his own. To

try to improve the mood inside the rental car we had

obtained in Cape Town, I tried to turn everyone's

attention to the details of the expedition we had in hand.

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— So, the condominium is being built on the

banks of the Sazinge River, some of the more expensive

residences reaching the freshwater beach. The creature

had a description quite similar to some prehistoric

aquatic animals, didn't it? — A long silence followed my

question, as neither of them wanted to give in on the

game of condemnation that was going on in the rearview

mirror. Finally, Lucy answered dryly:

— Plesiosaurus.

— Good, it's great to see that my theory makes

sense. Dr. Keene, do you have any different ideas? —

Jacob Keene was also slow to answer, but gave in to the

need to look at the road before we had an accident and

said:

— No...she's correct.

With the game over, Lucy could speak more

freely and was encouraged to develop her thinking:

— I remember hearing about the discovery of the

first fossils of these animals. The skeletal analysis was

ironically similar to what this master builder said and,

although it sounds fantastic, the story is quite plausible

in a remote place like this environmental reserve.

— Shouldn't they at least have been found by the

inhabitants of the surrounding villages? — questioned

Keene.

— I don't think so, the map Kevin brought with

him shows that the reserve is large enough to prevent

human interaction. Furthermore, the information in these

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documents is that even the natives are forbidden to enter

the reserve. — Keene grumbled with a clear sound of

frustration, and Lucy smiled at me with the same smile

Lane used to give me when he annoyed his colleague. At

least I had achieved my goal — we were at peace again.

Still feeling the weight of the trip and no longer tense,

Lucy leaned back on my shoulder, and I returned the

gesture. Believe me, after living for so long lost in the

jungle and suffering a horrendous trauma, it is not

possible to have any form of polite boundaries between

human beings. Sure, maybe I would still feel some

discomfort in doing the same with someone as rude as

Keene, but I wouldn't complain if there were no other

options.

When I opened my eyes again, we were still on

the road, which, calculating the travel time we already

had, meant we had stopped by the side of the road to rest

and my heavy sleep had not allowed me to notice it.

Anticipating what I was about to ask, Keene stepped

forward:

— It's a little while away now. We are in

KuXutidwele; after that, we have some marshy ground

and then we will be in the reserve.

I wondered if Keene knew the place to have such

knowledge, but as I looked at our lap, where the map and

documents lay, I realized that they were no longer there.

Looking further ahead, I found them on Keene's legs,

who was studying them attentively to know which route

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to take and was now turning the steering wheel to take

the left route.

Before long, we were approaching the marshy

ground that Keene had mentioned, and just beyond this

short slippery stretch, a tiny village of low, rounded

houses, which were certainly the most practical for the

region. We then stopped, perfectly in the middle of the

village, with a bump that took away any sleep we still

had. Awakened by Keene's traumatizing driving, Lucy

raised her face in astonishment and, not yet realizing that

her voice was too loud, asked, almost shouting:

— Where are we?

— I'd love to know, little girl. This map must be

wrong; we should have arrived by now.

— And you read the maps on the expeditions

with my father?

— No. Why?

— Because there is a village literally right next to

the car. There is no village inside the Hluleka Reserve,

remember?

— Also, — I added, — the river we are crossing

flows in a horseshoe shape, while the Sazinge River has

a straight mouth. — With a grunt of contempt, Keene

threw the map back on our laps and replied:

— Very well. Tell me where we are, then.

— Right...here, — Lucy pointed to a tiny marker

that located the village. Behind it was Hluleka beach,

and to our left, the homonymous reserve. — And over

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there..., — she continued, holding her finger up to a

watercourse much wider than the thin stream that

accompanied the village, — is the Sazinge River. The

reserve is right in front of us.

— Hmm. Thank you.

It was perhaps the greatest show of respect I had

ever seen Keene make.

Going beyond the village, we still had 27

kilometers of road, which would take about an hour and

fifteen minutes. This if we had taken the regular road

that went around the reserve. But of course, we didn't.

Speeding towards the point he remembered from the

map, Keene plunged us and the rental car into the jungle

that covered the edges of the rarely used road that lay

before us. Considering how wild the region was, and the

number of huge craters we were diverting in order not to

have the entire car be swallowed by one of those massive

holes, I concluded that the first people to clear the dense

vegetation and create a road there, had also been the last

to pass through it. Driven by the enormous desire to

reach the river and, perhaps, a discovery, our driver was

piloting wildly as if he were in a rally, jumping over sand

hills and ridges that rose up like huge obstacles for the

vehicle. Within minutes, we were suddenly stopping

once again; at least now for a good reason.

— Well, and there is the Sazinge River, —

declared Lucy, whose hair, like mine, was in a pitiful

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state of disarray from the wild rush that had been forced

upon us.

— Now what? How do we get across to the

condominium? — asked Jacob Keene, already analyzing

every stretch of river to try to find a bridge or something.

Still recovering from the headache, I removed the

strands of hair that covered my eyes and answered his

question:

— Actually, the condo is on this bank, just a few

miles upriver.

— So hang on again.

Without a second warning, Keene started the car

and swerved to the left, entering the reserve's bank,

which is technically illegal, but at this point, who cared,

right?

Coasting along the bank, we followed the

winding curve of the river which, fortunately, had a wide

margin of low vegetation, which means that we broke

some laws, but at least we didn't destroy any native

species. Skirting carefully the two sharpest bends in the

river, we stopped in front of a huge plain that stretched

for kilometers, in the part where the river was slightly

thinner. Above it, a gigantic construction site, that

already seemed to comprise two-thirds of its visible

extent. Leaving our vehicle, which by then was already

perfectly camouflaged by the dirt road that ended there,

we walked towards the human work, which seemed as

out of place there as Keene himself.

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The entire construction was remarkably modern

and of a pure white, which irritated the eyes when

reflected by the sun's rays. The visible side from where

we came was just the profile of the condominium, which

opened up into a large array of narrow houses, not worth

a third of what would be charged once they were ready.

— They...don't have a garage? — I asked

innocently.

— No, my friend. We don't need cars here. — We

turned to see whom the voice was coming from and were

met by the smiling face of a young man with a dark

complexion.

— Baruti Elya, — he introduced himself.

— It's a great pleasure to meet you, — Lucy took

the lead in saying, although the young man first turned to

Keene in his introduction. — You must be the engineer

responsible for this work, — she went on to say,

pretending to admire the surroundings. — Now, that

name. The first one comes from Botswana and the last

one from Ethiopia, right? — Lucy's knowledge about the

human species still amazes me sometimes.

— You must be the first person to research

anything about our continent before visiting it, miss, —

answered Baruti, with a look that exuded gratitude.

— That's the least one should do, — Lucy told

him.

— Was it you who saw the creatures first? —

intruded Jacob Keene. Forced to abandon the subject that

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interested him, the engineer returned to his professional

state and explained what had happened:

— Not exactly; it was Badru, one of the

employees. The work was proceeding at a good pace

until a few weeks ago. Then, one full moon night, we

were having dinner together right here in the

condominium and he appeared at the door, shouting that

he had found an unknown animal. We set out in the

middle of the night to see it, and in two houses that had

their porch lights on, we found piles of the little creature,

some still alive, others already suffocated by the weight

of the ones piled on top of them.

— And you still have the body of one of them?

— I asked him.

— Certainly, I preserved as many as possible in

jars of alcohol, before contacting your team. Please,

come and see.

Following our kind leader, we passed in front of

several houses, all the same, and all with a front of sand

and sparse grass that reached the river bank. The level of

the river was exactly the same as that of the houses,

which seemed, even to a layman like me, an engineering

absurdity. Not resisting the urge of curiosity, I dared to

ask:

— Are there no problems with the level of the

houses when the river overflows, Mr. Elya?

— Oh, no, no. The Sazinge River has its source

in a large lagoon near Port St. Johns, north of here. The

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lagoon is fed by rain and smaller tributaries, but there's

never been a case of its waters overflowing. Also

because, as I told you, we don't use cars here.

— And what do you use? — asked Keene,

without much patience in his tone. Stepping forward, the

man turned to face us and said with a mixture of pride

and simplicity:

— Boats.

— Boats? — repeated Keene. Now arriving at a

far corner of the plain, we were at the doors of a wooden

shed, obviously made to last only as long as necessary

for the work. Baruti then lifted the plank that served as a

simple latch and opened the huge door. Without stopping

his step this time, he explained his project more

comprehensively:

— As you may have noticed, my houses have no

garage, simply because they would be useless here. The

car you came in is certainly not sand-colored, am I right?

Well, do you think that the rich people who are going to

buy them would like to have their vehicles always filthy

like this? They want to come here for peace and quiet, to

experience the "simpler" life, as they say, but without

giving up all the luxury they have the rest of the year

when they go back to the city. With this type of client in

mind, my project takes into account the speedboats and

jet skis that these people will have when they come for

their vacations.

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— What an admirable initiative, — quipped

Keene.

— Thank you, — replied the other, turning over

cans of paint and piles of sinks and bidets that had yet to

be installed. He had certainly understood the meaning

Keene had given to his comment but didn't bother to

respond. With a satisfied shout, the lad returned to us,

who waited in the doorway; in his hands, two huge glass

jars with what looked like canned fish in each.

Stepping out into the sunlight, he looked around

for something to put the two glass jars on to show us.

Looking around, I noticed a gigantic log with an ax stuck

into its top. Surrounding it were small stumps and some

chips. So, wood from the forest was used for cooking

here? That was the right of the inhabitants of the

surrounding villages, but I am not sure if the same

applies to employees of a construction company. But

after all, what could I expect from the corporation that

was destroying the environment with the original project,

right?

I rolled the huge log over and Lucy hurried to

assist me in the task, as she always does. Bringing it

closer to the adults, we finally pushed its side so that it

fell right in front of their feet. Pleased with the perfect

table we had set up, the engineer thanked us briefly and

deposited the contents of the jars on the trunk that

reached his waist height. The four of us then surrounded

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the sample stand and, except for Baruti himself, each of

us grabbed a specimen of the diminutive creatures.

The body was, indeed, as the description said —

wider than the rest of the animal, with four small fins

that were evenly distributed like oars on a ship, and a

long, thin neck ending in a tiny head. The mouth lay

open, as it had been left during the last breath of the little

animal, perhaps a victim of suffocation, caused by the

weight of its own brothers and sisters. Inside were small,

needle-like teeth that protruded outward, as is customary

for this type of animal. Such teeth were perfect for

grasping slippery, struggling prey, such as fish and squid.

As I ran my hand down the length of the hatchling, I felt

that the skin, although covered with scales, was leathery,

like that of a gigantic leatherback turtle. This texture

must have given the creature incomparable

hydrodynamics, making it one of the fastest predators.

At the end of its body was the short tail that served as a

rudder for the aquatic monster I was holding in my

hands.

— You were right, Lucy, — I concluded. — It is

indeed a plesiosaur. Do you have any idea where they

might have originally come from, Mr. Elya?

— No, unfortunately not. The work was stopped

because of their appearance, you see. The bosses did not

like the idea of having a mysterious being near the

property and ordered me to call you as soon as possible

to identify the species.

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— And after we are done, what do these bastards

intend to do to the creatures? — Needless to say, it was

Keene who asked this question.

— Well, Doctor, — the other replied with irony

as he pronounced the title, — If you can carry them on

your rented cart, nothing. Otherwise, the ones we find

will be dehydrated and served before the press gets wind

of it. You didn't really think that I had put them all in

those jars, did you?

— What an absurd! You want to destroy an

endangered species just to ensure the success of a bloody

condominium?

— Now listen here! I called you to get me out of

this mess so I can get back to work. If you don't have a

family at home, Doctor, well, I do, and they're worth

more than your dearly beloved endangered species!

— Well, I wish the human species were extinct...

— Saying this, Keene stamped his feet, leaving us alone

with Baruti.

— We're sorry about this, Mr. Elya, — Lucy

hastened to say, — What he says doesn't represent our

team as a whole.

— That's good to hear, young lady; but I need

you to get these little monsters out of here before I can

no longer take care of my family.

Also leaving the shed, Baruti slammed the heavy

wooden door in his way, hard enough to make the entire

wooden frame rattle.

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— It's amazing how easily this man can get into

trouble wherever he goes! — complained Lucy. The

frustration in her voice was clear. — And the worst of it

is that we didn't even have to come with him, but of

course, Frost's envelope didn't arrive in time! What else

should we expect?

— He just has a bad direction for his love, — I

tried to reason. — Some have more taste for animals,

others for human beings. You chose to study human

beings.

— Oh, please, Kevin, you're a paleoartist and you

don't get into fights on three different continents.

— Maybe I'm just a bit more reasonable.

— Or maybe you're just not crazy like him.

— That's also a great hypothesis.

We laughed together at our absurd theories that

tried to explain Keene's brackish personality.

— Well, now what? — I asked the authority I had

chosen.

— Ready for a night hunt?

— Another sleepless night? Of course!

— Great, let's hope those two don't meet on the

way and kill each other. Or else... let's hope they do.

I laughed, this time a little more forcefully. The

quip had been a bit too dark for my taste; something that

was not usual for Lucy.

As the sun now set in the African sky, we

gathered around a table in the condo's party pavilion. I

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could already imagine what a horrendous racket this

place would one day be, with the homeowners all

gathered there, drinking, celebrating, and polluting the

reserve with light and sound. Fortunately, this was still a

distant reality, especially now, but it was also something

inevitable. The large table made of long boards, similar

to those that made up the shed's walls, was a simple

touch to the place. It was also to be replaced by

something of greater monetary value, probably

mahogany. Lucy and I helped as much as we could to

prepare the meal, but Baruti insisted on taking care of

the big pot in which he cooked his potjieko, a soup-like

food mixing vegetables and meat. His expression,

however, looked less like that of a host who wants to let

his guests rest and more like that of a chef who hates to

see others touching his utensils. Anyway, soon the

enormous amount of food was ready, and we sat down at

the table together. Unfortunately, Keene had retired to

the house that Baruti had reserved for us, claiming not to

be hungry that night. I suspected, though, that he was

just resentful of the end the animals would meet. I

myself didn't like the idea of seeing those animals be

killed, but what seemed right to me was to think of a

way to save the creatures; sulking in a room didn't sound

very productive. Still, I could understand his feelings to

some extent, and, asking for permission, I stood up, also

asking if I could take some of the broth to Keene.

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— Be my guest, — Baruti replied, raising his

hand in approval. — We can't let him starve, even if he

deserves it, — added the engineer. As he took a few

ladles of broth and poured it into a bowl, I thought about

the words I had just heard. Could it be that the desire to

see the end of one's neighbor's life had become

something so normal these days? Perhaps previous

generations had the same morbid desire but kept it away

in the corner of their hearts. I had had two huge losses

recently, that of my guardian being the one that would

affect me the most for the rest of my life, and even the

death of Norwayan — the man who died to save me —

had scarred me enough for me to remember his sacrifice

for years and here I describe it in detail. Walking around

the front of the houses that made up the condominium, I

concentrated on the task of balancing the bowl of soup,

while at the same time ascertaining the dark terrain,

preventing myself from also going down. Hearing

footsteps behind me, I turned to see who was coming,

and when the figure was finally exposed to the dim light

coming mainly from the lit porches, I recognized her

readily.

— What are you doing here? — I asked with a

laugh, — I thought you were having dinner with Baruti.

— And I was, but the fellow seems to have liked

the fact that I seek to know the culture. Let's just say he

talks too much about himself. Besides, we have the night

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hunt to do, don't we? I told him that we were going to

take the soup to Keene and maybe stay there already.

— But we are not staying, are we?

— Of course not, but since there is always the

possibility, technically, it's not a lie. Now, stop criticizing

my morals, and let's go see the grumpy fox.

Stepping past me, Lucy grabbed my arm and I

had to hold the soup tighter so I wouldn't have to go back

to the engineer and get more. Being dragged to one of

the lighted porch houses, we knocked on the door, but

Keene was slow to open it. Lucy kept insisting despite

my protests until the shadowy figure appeared in the

window. Jacob Keene's condemning eyes moved from

Lucy's face to mine and finally to the soup. As they

landed on the bowl, his expression changed to a more

relaxed and even surprised one. Opening the door, he

asked:

— What do you want? — Of course, he knew

that house had been designated for us to rest too, but that

would not change his personality.

— We've come to bring you some potjieko that

Baruti has prepared.

— I can't even pronounce that name, young man,

why do you think I would eat it?

— Because you are hungry, — Lucy said harshly,

then changed her tone to one of tenderness:

— You drove for us for hours on end and had to

find your way here. You'll love it, I assure you.

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Suddenly sounding more human, Keene replied

simply:

— Come in, please.

I was still shocked by the effect of Lucy's words

and looked at her several times, my jaw still dropped.

Only returning a smile, Lucy seemed proud of the feats

her knowledge allowed her. We climbed the spiral

staircase that led to the second floor, which had also

been subdivided into the rooms that would make up the

luxurious house. Passing through the ones that still lay

empty, we reached a large space hidden between the

other parts of the house. Such comfort and discretion

indicated that this would soon be a bedroom. Even now

there were indications of this, with the simple bed that

Baruti had prepared for whomever would occupy it.

Looking around, I was a little concerned that there were

no other beds for Lucy and me to lie on, but there were

more serious matters to attend to. Besides, we had

already planned an evening excursion, which made

resting a secondary matter. Handing the bowl to Keene,

who sat at the head of his bed, I followed the man's

methodical movements, as he held the spoon with

finesse, even though he was in the middle of nowhere, as

he picked up each morsel with etiquette, even though

there was no one to criticize him, and as he smelled the

dish with a critical expression, even though he had

already entered the room where a man had been found

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dead and already stank. Taking the lead in breaking the

awkward silence, Lucy said:

— Kevin and I were thinking about how to

prevent these animals from being killed. Do you have a

plan?

Straightening up, Keene looked out the window

over our shoulders and contemplated something before

answering.

— First, we have to get to know the animal

better. You identified it as a plesiosaur, and you are

correct. But there are several genera of plesiosaurs, and

we have to find out which one specifically and why it is

here. There is no way that the villagers could have lived

here for so many years without ever entering the reserve.

Crickey, these people were here even before this was

declared a reserve! There are no public reports of this

being's existence, which means that it appeared here

recently and had the misfortune to find this bloody

palace being built.

— You are right, Doctor, — Lucy looked very

convinced and flattering, which made Keene agree as

well. Feeling freer to speak, he declared:

— So, if you want to leave early in the morning,

count me in.

— Kevin and I would love to have you with us,

Dr. Keene; after all, you are the most experienced

scientist on our team.

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Agreeing again with the compliment, Keene

finished his soup while we said goodbye to him. Lucy

said that there was a possibility that we could spend the

night talking to Baruti about the local culture and beliefs,

to which the other replied:

— Be my guest; even sleeping in this hard bed

seems more interesting to me.

Leaving the house to which we might return later

that night, I asked Lucy:

— Why did you praise the old fox so much?

— So as not to put him on notice. I want him to

think that we are following his leadership and his plans.

He can't imagine that we will act later tonight, otherwise,

he might follow us.

— And what's wrong with that? We will already

have to put up with him in the morning.

— That may be, but I want to put up with him for

a minimum of hours. Besides, Keene is very drastic.

Knowing him well, I would say that he is capable of

spending every last cent to get this place declared part of

the reserve. Let's find out what's going on and come up

with a solution that doesn't involve putting anyone out of

work.

I remained silent before the arguments. I knew

Keene well and the description Lucy had given me

seemed quite accurate.

We walked back along the path to the front of the

residences, heading for the pier where a small service

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boat was moored. The boat was a narrow canoe, like

those used in rivers and rapids. Such a device seemed

absurd on a river as wide as the Sazinge, but I

reconsidered this idea when I remembered the map Frost

had given us. The winding curves of the Sazinge

sometimes narrowed, making the canoe a wise decision.

It was also perfect for us, who didn't want to make noise,

which the large motor boats made too much of. Entering

the canoe, we took up our positions in the forward part

of the boat. The creaking of the wood and the slight

rocking on the water still gave me a chill and I heard

screams and cries of pain. Biting my upper lip, I tried to

suppress the painful memories of Amge and focus on the

research at hand. I grabbed the rough wooden paddle,

something that kayak lovers in America rarely

experience, having more usually a light, synthetic

paddle. This at least helped to refocus my attention,

since I had not paddled last time. Proceeding slowly, we

crossed one of the narrowest parts of the river; the other

bank being no more than a few paddlings away. There

was no bridge or walkway, however, so it was still

necessary to use the boat even for this short crossing.

Finally reaching the other shore, we landed on

soft sand, exactly as there was on the condo's beach. We

didn't know what we would find or even what to look

for, but we kept walking towards the head of the river.

With the flashlights we found in the construction shed,

we illuminated the water and the sand, watching for any

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sign of movement. On the surface of the river, small

circles were forming with the movement of the fish; the

shoals that teemed in those rich waters. But a plesiosaur

reached a considerable size and had to frequently surface

to breathe. There was also the possibility that the smaller

genera would crawl out of the water, as marine

chelonians do.

We had already covered a distance of about a

kilometer and our flashlights could find nothing on the

surface, at least nothing that resembled a larger version

of the creatures we had held the day before. Then I

turned again to the shore and spotted a stretch of sand

that had been turned over as if some being had dug its

way in. Or come out.

Kneeling in the dry sand, I began to dig with my

hands, first slowly, then Lucy joined me, still not

understanding my purpose.

— So, what do we have here? — she asked.

— Just...a strange idea.

— They are usually the best. Kevin, look!

Having searched the beach more than it had ever

been, we lit its interior with flashlights to reveal its

contents. Mixed in with the sand were what looked like

crumpled ping-pong balls. Holding one of them between

my fingers, I felt that its texture was elastic, almost

rubbery, and confirmed what I thought they were. Eggs.

— Eggs? — repeated Lucy. — This would

explain why no one had seen the hatchlings yet. — They

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hatch from buried eggs and go into the water, like

newborn turtles.

— And no one would suspect that these holes in

the ground were tunnels made by little plesiosaurs

leaving the nest.

— I don't know if this solves our problems or just

brings new ones.

— What do you mean?

— Baruti already wants to destroy the animals

for simply being here. What do you think he will do

when he finds out that they chose this place as a nesting

ground?

The idea that someone could destroy the nursery

of what were perhaps the last representatives of a species

made me nauseous. We needed to act. And quickly.