“How does this tracking system operate?” Kevin asked. Having been immersed in the biomolecular aspects of the project, he’d not paid any attention to the logistics. He’d toured the island five years previously at the commencement of the venture, but that had been it. He’d never inquired about the nuts and bolts of everyday operation.

“It’s a satellite system,” Bertram said. “I don’t pretend to know the details. Of course each animal has a small microchip with a long-lasting nickel cadmium battery embedded just under the derma. The afferent signal from the microchip is minuscule, but it’s picked up by the grid, magnified, and transmitted by microwave.”

Kevin started to give the devices back to Bertram, but Bertram waved them away. “Keep them,” he said. “We’ve got plenty of others.”

“But I don’t need them,” Kevin protested.

“Come on, Kevin,” Bertram chided playfully while thumping Kevin on the back. The blow was hard enough to knock Kevin forward. “Loosen up! You’re much too serious.” Bertram sat at his desk, picked up his phone messages, and absently began to arrange them in order of importance.

Kevin glanced at the electronic devices in his hands and wondered what he’d do with them. They were obviously costly instruments.

“What was it about your project that you wanted to discuss with me?” Bertram asked. He looked up from his phone messages. “People are always complaining I don’t allow them to get a word in edgewise. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m concerned,” Kevin stammered.

“About what?” Bertram asked. “Things couldn’t be going any better.”

“I’ve seen the smoke again,” Kevin managed.

“What? You mean like that wisp of smoke you mentioned to me last week?” Bertram asked.

“Exactly,” Kevin said. “And from the same spot on the island.”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Bertram declared, with a wave of his hand. “We’ve been having electrical storms just about every other night. Lightning starts fires; everybody knows that.”

“As wet as everything is?” Kevin said. “I thought lightning starts fires in savannas during the dry season, not in dank, equatorial rain forests.”

“Lightning can start a fire anyplace,” Bertram said. “Think of the heat it generates. Remember, thunder is nothing but expansion of air from the heat. It’s unbelievable.”

“Well, maybe,” Kevin said. He was unconvinced. “But even if it were to start a fire, would it last?”

“You’re like a dog with a bone,” Bertram commented. “Have you mentioned this crazy idea to anybody else?”

“Only to Raymond Lyons,” Kevin said. “He called me yesterday about another problem.”

“And what was his response?” Bertram asked.

“He told me not to let my imagination run wild,” Kevin said.

“I’d say that was good advice,” Bertram said. “I second the motion.”

“I don’t know,” Kevin said. “Maybe we should go out there and check.”

“No!” Bertram snapped. For a fleeting moment his mouth formed a hard line and his blue eyes blazed. Then his face relaxed. “I don’t want to go to the island except for a retrieval. That was the original plan and by golly we’re sticking with it. As well as everything is going, I don’t want to take any chances. The animals are to remain isolated and undisturbed. The only person who goes there is the pygmy, Alphonse Kimba, and he goes only to pull supplementary food across to the island.”