“You ladies are fearless,” Kevin remarked.

“Hardly,” Melanie said. “But I don’t see any problem with driving up there and checking the situation out. Once we know what we’re dealing with, we can make a better decision about what we want to do.”

“When do you want to do this?” Kevin questioned.

“I’d say now,” Melanie replied. She glanced at her watch. “There’s no better time. Ninety percent of the population of the town is either at the waterfront chickee bar, splashing around in the pool, or sweating buckets at the athletic center.”

Kevin sighed, let his arms fall limply to his sides, and capitulated. “Whose car should we take?” he asked.

“Yours,” Melanie said without hesitation. “Mine doesn’t even have four-wheel drive.”

As the trio descended the stairs and made their way across the sweltering blacktop of the parking area, Kevin had the gnawing sense they were making a mistake. But in the face of the women’s resolve, he felt reluctant to voice his reservations.

On the east exit of the town, they passed the athletic center’s tennis courts, which were chockful of players. Between the humidity and heat, the players looked as drenched as if they’d jumped into a swimming pool with their tennis outfits on.

Kevin drove. Melanie sat in the front passenger seat, while Candace sat in the back. The windows were all open, since the temperature had fallen into the high eighties. The sun was low in the west, directly behind them and peeking in and out of clouds along the horizon.

Just beyond the soccer field the vegetation closed in around the road. Brightly colored birds flitted in and out of the deepening shadows. Large insects annihilated themselves against the windshield like miniature kamikaze pilots.

“The jungle looks dense,” Candace said. She’d never traveled east from the town.

“You have no idea,” Kevin said. When he’d first arrived he’d tried to take some hikes in the area, but with the profusion of vines and creepers, it was all but impossible without a machete.

“I just had a thought about the aggression issue,” Melanie said. “The passivity of bonobo society is generally attributed to its matriarchal character. Because of the skewed demand for male doubles, our program has a population that’s mostly male. There has to be a lot of competition for the few females.”

“That’s a good point,” Kevin agreed. He wondered why Bertram hadn’t thought of it.

“Sounds like my type of place,” Candace joked. “Maybe I should book Isla Francesca instead of Club Med on my next vacation.”

Melanie laughed. “Let’s go together,” she said.

They passed a number of Equatoguineans on their way home from work in Cogo. Most of the women carried jugs and parcels on top of their heads. The men were generally empty-handed.

“It’s a strange culture,” Melanie commented. “The women do the lion’s share of the work: growing the food, carrying the water, raising the kids, cooking the meals, taking care of the house.”

“What do the men do?” Candace asked.