The cages were four-foot square steel boxes, making it impossible for all but the youngest animals to stand up. The only source of ventilation was through the bars in the doors. The doors were secured by an angled hasp that latched around the side beyond the animal’s reach. Kevin was able to catch glimpses of terrified bonobos cowering within the cages’ shadows.

Such small cages were supposed to be used only for transport, but a forklift was laboriously moving them into the shade of the north-facing wall of the jungle, suggesting they were staying on the island. One of the workers was manning a hose from a gasoline-powered pump and spraying the cages and the animals with river water.

“I thought you said the bonobos were going to the animal center?” Kevin asked.

“Not today,” Dave said. “For the moment, there is no place to put them. It’ll be tomorrow or the next day at the very latest.”

There was no trouble getting over to the mainland because the telescoping bridge had been deployed. It was constructed of steel and had a hollow, drumlike sound as they trodded across. Parked alongside the bridge mechanism was Dave’s pickup truck.

“Hop in,” Dave said, while pointing into the truck’s bed.

“Just one minute!” Melanie snapped. They were her first words since leaving the cave. “We’re not riding in the back of a truck.”

“Then you’ll walk,” Dave said. “You’re not riding in my cab.”

“Come on, Melanie,” Kevin urged. “It will be more pleasant back here in the open air.” Kevin gave Candace a hand.

Dave went around and got in behind the wheel.

Melanie resisted for another minute. With her hands on her hips, her legs spread apart, and her lips pressed together, she looked like a young girl on the verge of a temper tantrum.

“Melanie, it’s not that far,” Candace said. She reached out her hand. Reluctantly, Melanie took it.

“I didn’t expect a hero’s welcome,” Melanie complained. “But I didn’t expect this kind of treatment.”

After the damp oppressiveness of the cave and the moist hothouse of the jungle, the breezy ride in the back of the truck was unexpectedly pleasant. The bed was filled with reed mats that had been used to transport the animals, and they provided adequate cushion. The mats had a rather rank smell, but the group guessed they did, too.

They lay on their backs and watched patches of the late-afternoon sky appear between the branches of the overhead canopy of trees.

“What do you think they are going to do to us?” Candace said. “I don’t want to go back in that jail.”

“Let’s hope they just fire us on the spot,” Melanie said. “I’m ready to pack my bag and say goodbye to the Zone, the project, and Equatorial Guinea. I’ve had it.”

“I can only hope it will be that easy,” Kevin said. “I’m also worried about the animals. They’ve been given life sentences.”

“There’s not much we can do,” Candace said.