came around, and stared inside. No steering wheel. Passenger side. He threw in his duffle and climbed in.
Samuel circled to the driver’s side, climbed in, started the Land Cruiser, and backed out of the parking space. “Mr. Jack,” he said, glancing toward the exit. “How long will you be with us?”
“Two, three weeks. As long as you need me. If we could wrap this up in a couple of days, that’d be okay, too.”
“You did not wish to come to Kenya?”
“Uh, . . .” Jack felt Leboo studying his face. “Always wanted to, but . . . it’s just . . . I have other things that need to be finished.” He turned to the window. “But that’s irrelevant. I’m here. My time is yours.”
“I see.” Samuel gave a slow nod and accelerated onto the road. “How much do you know about Kenya?”
“Not much, really.” He gripped the armrest as Samuel steered onto the left side of the road. “Learned I was coming only yesterday. Or maybe it was today. I’m . . . uh . . . little turned around about what day it is. I did some reading on the flight, but my options for study were limited.”
“Not to worry. I can provide materials.” Eyes on the road, he seemed settled in for the drive. “Kenya Wildlife Service manages national parks and wildlife reserves. People come from around the world to safari in Kenya. This is Africa as the world imagines it to be. Our wildlife are our heritage. To preserve that heritage, our rangers carry AK-47s and AK-103s. Do you know why?”
“Poachers?”
He gave a slow nod, then pulled into traffic, seemingly ignoring the others on the road. “Yes. Do you know what they poach?”
Eyes straight ahead, watching darting cars, Jack said, “Elephant?”
“Yes. Big game animals. Especially elephant and rhinoceros. Do you know why?”
Jack braced himself against the dashboard. “Elephant for ivory, rhino for horns?”
“Correct, and do you know who does the poaching?”
“Not really. Not something I understand very well.”
“Maybe it’s not important that you do. You are a scientist, not someone hired to stop poaching . . . but unfortunately our rangers are. They must carry automatic weapons to do their job. And to survive.”
Cars screamed past, horns blaring.
“Scientist . . . true,” Jack responded. “But we, too, have law enforcement rangers.” He put a hand on the dashboard. “Is traffic always like this?”
“No. During the day it is very busy.” Leboo turned into a roundabout, steering across the lane. Horns blasted behind him. “Do your law enforcement rangers carry AK-47s?” He turned onto another road, this one just as busy.
“Well . . . some train with automatic or semiautomatic weapons—I’m not exactly sure which—but most carry hand guns. Pistols.”
“Here, carrying a pistol would simply make you a target.”
“Is there a reason we’re discussing this? Did you need someone proficient in automatic weapons? If so, they sent the wrong guy. Send me back . . . ask for a different skill set.”
“I do not presume to know what proficiencies you should have as a scientist. I simply want you to understand the risks we face.”
“I’m not sure what difference this makes, but I’m only here because two days ago I was staring down the barrel of an automatic weapon. Several actually. But as you say, I’m a scientist, not someone who carries one. So, why am I here, Samuel?”
Samuel took his eyes off the road. “This incident . . . were you in danger?”
“I suppose. Felt like it. Could’ve been posturing. Not something that happens every day.”
“For our rangers, being ready every day is something to which they’re accustomed. You are here because a week ago, two of our rangers were killed by rhinoceros poachers. One, a biodiversity ranger.”
“A scientist?”
“Yes. An accomplished one. He had recently finished his Ph.D., and returned to Kenya because this is where he wanted to be. He did not want to work at university or in the science office. He wanted to be in the bush.”
“That, I can understand. Where’d he do his studies?”
“Oxford.”
“England?”
“Is there another?”
Jack laughed at himself. “Why turn to us? Why not Oxford?”
Samuel sighed and fixed his eyes on the road.
Jack tried to read him. “Why not Oxford, Samuel?”
“I did contact Oxford. They are in shock. They knew Gabriel quite well. They knew how much he longed to return to Kenya. The news of his death was difficult for them, and . . . they don’t want professors or students put at risk.”
“I see. So, . . . the Americans . . . it’s the Wild West over there. Go get one of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Americans like playing with guns.”
“No. It was not that at all.” He swerved around a vehicle, then back into the lane.
Jack bounced against the door. “Then, why us, and why the urgency? Why not wait? Or find another university, maybe here in Nairobi?
Samuel’s face turned stone. Not even a flinch.
“Simple questions, Samuel.” Jack gave him a moment, then, “Never mind. Sorry to pry.”
“My usual avenues for seeking collaboration and support were closed. By the Ministry.” He flashed a subtle smile. “But, I have connections. Here and there, people with appropriate levels of influence. My connections put me on a path to your International Affairs Office.”
“Okay, but why the urgency?”
Samuel drew in a long, slow breath. “Some in the Ministry think Gabriel’s research should be ended. I and my connections believe that would be a mistake. We must continue Gabriel’s research. We must not let them push us aside.”
“I don’t understand. Why would the ministry not support it?”
“Discomfort. Lack of political will. The prospect that Gabriel’s research would yield inconvenient findings.” Samuel turned and seemed to study Jack’s face.
“Hey, don’t worry about me. I’m a scientist. Always big on research.” He raised a brow and smiled. “Tell me about his work.”
“Multi-faceted. Some of it similar to what I’m told your agency calls, vital signs.”
“Indicator species and systems?”
“Precisely. But the more controversial aspect of the work focused on habitat fragmentation. The relationships between intensity of human activity and the health and viability of wildlife habitat and populations. Wildlife corridors, and eventually, through collaboration, ecological economies.”
“Tough nuts to crack,” Jack said. “Is that why he was killed?”
“I do not believe so. I believe it simply an unfortunate encounter with a poacher.”
“But you’re not absolutely certain.”
“Not entirely. The investigation continues.”
“When will they know?”
“There is no they. It is I conducting the investigation.”
“I