‘Still nothing on the south bank, though?’ asked Richard, thinking nothing very secret so far. ‘Nothing but mangroves and delta jungle?’
‘Not quite,’ answered Caleb. ‘The government has been busy there too. If you look carefully you can see that we are bringing back the oil pipework that was there and clearing the jungle itself. There was some talk of a wildlife park there — that’s marked here in dotted lines — and the idea was to make it a tourist attraction. But it was abandoned when the men who thought it up, Bala Ngama and his brother — ministers for the outer and inner deltas — were dismissed for demanding bribes and using promises of land both in the deltas and further upriver to build their private power base.
‘Minister Ngama had also assembled a considerable menagerie that was supposed to go into the wildlife park but as soon as he was dismissed he apparently arranged to have it all sold off. It was paid for by the ministry, but he is supposed to have pocketed the proceeds himself. It was typical of the man and of the activities that finally made President Chaka run out of patience with him. Then he and his brother vanished, leaving their families to face the music. And it is they, in fact, who seem to have sold to our enemies and competitors some of the facts that I am revealing to you now. Facts whose importance will be immediately obvious, I’m sure. Facts which had been secret until the Ngama brothers crossed the border. In many other countries the reprisals would have been terrible. Here, they are simply the subject of an investigation in absentia, and their families are currently at liberty on bail.’
‘And there’s a deserted town there too,’ observed Richard, focusing on Caleb’s overdrawn plan once again as he mulled this new information over. ‘A big place, but a deserted ruin now, just inside the inner delta. What about that?’
‘It is Citematadi,’ answered Caleb. ‘It was built, flourished briefly, was abandoned and then died during the nineteen seventies and eighties of the last century. We have sent army engineering units up to see what of the infrastructure can be cleared, made safe and used. Granville Harbour is becoming overcrowded, as you will readily appreciate, and we do not want it to turn into another Lagos. And — you will welcome this particularly, Captain Mariner — the engineers were ordered to blow up the piles and starlings of the collapsed bridge there and clear the river, making it navigable for larger craft right up to the orphanage and the new farms beyond it.’
‘The orphanage,’ said Ivan. ‘You mentioned that. What is it and why is it important?’
‘Here, on the north bank. The Father Antoine and Sister Faith Memorial orphanage is now at the heart of a considerable new settlement. It is not really large enough to warrant a municipal authority or a name, but the suggestion has been made that it be called Chakaville after Celine Chaka, who was wounded defending the orphanage against the Army of Christ the Infant some time ago, before she became leader of the opposition. And that the first municipal leader should be Anastasia Asov, who runs the orphanage itself.’
At the mention of Anastasia’s name, Richard felt Ivan stir once again, and was opening his mouth to ask about their relationship when the door opened and Anastasia’s father strode in.
‘Someone mention my name?’ he asked, having heard the last few words.
‘No,’ said Richard. ‘We were discussing Anastasia and her orphanage.’
‘Oh,’ said Max, his voice flat, his tone somewhere between disinterest and disdain. Then his whole demeanour changed. ‘Ivan,’ he said. ‘Ivan, my boy …’
What started as a handshake turned into a bear hug, and in among the whispered greetings Richard was sure he heard the phrase, ‘Uncle Max!’
‘The point is,’ continued Caleb, when the two men finally pulled apart, ‘that, just at Malebo, there is now a decent docking facility there. Fuel, supplies and so forth. Any expedition proceeding upriver can expect to refuel there and at the orphanage. And, even as we speak, further fuel dumps are being ferried upriver, nine thousand kilos at a time by the Super Pumas of the Benin La Bas army’s support command.’ He looked around the table, smiling briefly at the curt nods of approval. Then he continued. ‘As well as the fuel and ancillary equipment, we will be leaving a security contingent at the orphanage to guard the place. And that is a happy coincidence, because, as you can see if you look a little to the north and east of the encampment, here is the first of the large nationalized farming cooperatives.
‘The land north-east of the inner delta is raised savannah and is particularly well suited to a range of farming activities. President Chaka has set up, in parallel, an agricultural college in Malebo and the cooperative you see marked. Unlike earlier schemes — such as the ill-fated Million Acre experiment in Kenya and the attempted restitution in Zimbabwe — chance has offered us a clean slate here and now. Almost all the original farmers in this area were driven off during the last thirty years by the kind of dangers that closed Doctor Koizumi’s pearl factory and cleared the jungle all around it. If there are any survivors with legitimate personal, family, clan or tribal claims to the land, they have yet to come forward. The best experts we can find, therefore, have been brought in to assess what of the most in-demand crops might be farmed there to feed not only our own people but also a global market. And it seems that everything from watermelons to wine is in demand. From beans to Burgundy. As well as the sweet potato, yam and manioc that are the staples of the area.’
‘You have people up there farming already?’ asked Richard, impressed.
‘Indeed. The government has instituted a three-pronged recruitment scheme. We have experienced farmers from the older generation who know the land and are willing to return to it while the next generation are being trained up in the agricultural college. And any shortfall or stopgap is filled by experts recruited from our near neighbours — or from further abroad — who help and advise in the meantime.’
‘Experts from the far side of Karisoke?’ asked Richard, as he felt something beginning to stir in his mind.
‘Indeed. Bala Ngama, before his removal, negotiated a most successful agreement with President Gabriel Fola. There are several of his farming experts involved in the project. But we also have Kikuyu farmers from the Great Rift Valley, Masai herdsmen, Bantu vegetable growers from Kenya who are expert in growing onions, tomatoes, cabbages and avocados, as well as fine green beans for export. Hutus and Tutsis from nearer at hand. Bantu again and Luala from the DR Congo, south of us. It started in secret because of the influx of experts from outside the country and the Matadi tribe, but anyone who reads the government-sponsored press will soon learn the details.’
‘OK,’ said Max. ‘But the main objective remains to get up the river to Lac Dudo first, before this Army of Christ the Infant gets a good firm grip on it — whether they know about the coltan or whether they are just reconquering their old stamping grounds — and lets the other bad guys in through the back door. It looks as though we may have to sort out how many bad guys — fifth columnists — are here already. Where they are, what they’re up to and how in hell’s name they fit into Gabriel Fola’s and Colonel Odem’s overall plan.’
Richard nodded. ‘But that’s not all,’ he added. ‘I’m pretty certain Colonel Odem has a grudge he wants to settle with Celine Chaka, for instance, so she’s involved, like it or not …’
‘Not too likely she’s at any risk,’ shrugged Ivan. ‘Leader of the opposition, in the middle of Granville Harbour. We’re talking Army of Christ, not Smersh assassins …’