“Just open the cage doors,” Kevin said.

With seven people working, it took only a few minutes to get all the cages open. As soon as the last animal had emerged into the night, Kevin motioned for everyone to start toward the bridge.

Bonobo number one, who’d been shadowing Kevin, clapped his hands loudly just as he’d done when Kevin and the women had first come upon him in the cul-de-sac of the marshy field. Then he vocalized raucously before starting after the humans. Immediately the rest of the bonobos quietly followed.

The seven humans led the seventy-one transgenic bonobos in a procession across the clearing to the bridge of their freedom. Arriving at the span, the humans stepped aside. Bonobo number one stopped at the concrete stanchion.

“Sta zit arak,” Kevin repeated as he spread his fingers and swept his hand away from his chest for the final time. Then he pointed toward the unexplored African interior.

Bonobo number one bowed his head momentarily before leaping up on top of the stanchion. Looking out over his people, he vocalized for a final time before turning his back on Isla Francesca and crossing the bridge to the mainland. The mass of the bonobos silently followed.

“It’s like watching the Exodus,” Jack quipped.

“Don’t be blasphemous,” Laurie teased. But, as with all teasing, there was an element of truth. She was truly awed by the spectacle.

As if by magic the animals melted into the dark jungle without a sound. One minute they were a restive crowd milling about the base of the bridge; the next minute they were gone like water soaking into a sponge.

The humans didn’t move or talk for a moment. Finally, Kevin broke the silence. “They did it, and I’m pleased,” he said. “Thank you all for helping. Maybe now I can come to terms with what I did in creating them.” He stepped up to the bridge and pressed the red button. With a whine, the bridge retracted.

The group turned away from the stanchion and began to trudge back to the pirogue.

“That was one of the strangest pageants I’ve ever seen,” Jack said.

Halfway to the canoe, Melanie suddenly stopped and cried: “Oh, no! Look!”

Everyone’s eyes darted across the river in the direction she was pointing. Headlight beams from several vehicles could be intermittently seen through the foliage. The vehicles were descending the track leading to the bridge mechanism.

“We can’t get to the boat!” Warren blurted. “They’ll see us.”

“We can’t stay here, either,” Jack said.

“Back to the cages!” Kevin cried.

They all turned and ran toward the bulwark of the jungle. The moment they ducked behind the cages, the headlight beams swept across the clearing as the vehicles turned to the west. The vehicles stopped, but the headlights stayed on and the engines kept running.

“It’s a group of Equatoguinean soldiers,” Kevin said.

“And Siegfried,” Melanie said. “I can recognize him anywhere. And that’s Cameron McIvers’s patrol car.”

A searchlight snapped on. Its high-intensity light played along the row of cages then swept the bank of the river. It quickly found the canoe.