Worrying. When he’d used the word gossip with Odongo, it hadn’t been meant in an entirely pejorative way. In Africa, you ignored the local chitchat at your own risk.

When Chism entered the main lab, it felt almost abandoned. Precaution was starting to look a lot like evacuation. How serious was this? You could never tell with Odongo. He’d face a nuclear war with the same disapproving frown as he aimed at the mold taking hold on the cafeteria ceiling.

“Seems quiet,” he said as he came through the glass door.

Jing Liu spun, nearly dropping the box she was holding. “You’re here! Have you heard? Gideon Auma is close.”

At thirty-three, she was one year his senior but looked much younger. He’d raided her from a research facility in Wuhan and she’d proven to be worth her weight in gold. If only he could decipher her accent.

“What?”

“Gideon Auma! He’s here.”

“My understanding is that there are some rumors about him being in the area. That’s all. We’re just being careful.”

A man appeared from a door at the back dragging a handcart. “It’s about time you got here. Did you stop on top of the mountain again?”

Matteo Ricci was a brilliant virologist from Milan who had been coaxed out of retirement by ridiculous amounts of money. In contrast to Liu’s, whose appearance could be described as slightly startled minimalism, Ricci had a great tan, amazing hair, and could still genuinely rock the ass-hugging slacks he favored. Today, a cigarette hung from his lips, putting a finishing touch on his aging-pop-star vibe. Apparently, he’d decided that the proximity of Gideon Auma trumped any rules against smoking in the lab.

“What are we doing?” Chism said, ignoring the comment about his tardiness.

“Odongo gave us a list,” Ricci responded in his lightly accented, grammatically rigid English. “Procedures for what needs to go and when. They’ve prioritized getting noncritical personnel and stable patients out of here, but it sounds like we’re going to be moving equipment and live samples tomorrow when the trucks arrive.”

Chism laced his fingers thoughtfully atop his head. Were they overreacting here? The reasonably healthy patients and nonessential employees, sure. No point in taking chances. But a lot of the other stuff wasn’t all that easy to transport and there’s no reason someone like Auma would want it. It wasn’t like there was a big market in the jungle for incubators and test tubes.

Having said that, if Mukisa Odongo had spoken that was it. The momentum of his edicts was irresistible. Like a hurricane, they just swept you along whether you liked it or not.

Odongo stood well back from the window, staring into the dimly lit parking area. The rain was coming down even harder now, creating a haze of heavy droplets and swirling fog.