The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,30
California, hitting the beach, in no time.”
“It’s been moving along,” Pete said. “The mess hall was finished a couple of weeks ago.”
“We’ll be glad when the second dorm is done,” Wendy added.
“What happened to the idea of one large dorm?” Remi asked her.
“After thinking about it, we figured one for the younger girls, one for the older. I think it’ll be easier in the long run.”
Sam lifted his water glass. “Well done.”
“Agreed,” Remi said, lifting her own glass. “To Pete and Wendy.”
A loud crash interrupted their toast and the four looked over at Nasha and saw her looking horror-stricken, her tray on the ground in front of her, the soup splattered across the floor.
Remi started to rise, but Wendy stopped her. “She’ll be fine. Watch.” Within seconds, three older girls converged on Nasha, one whisking her back to the food line while the other two quickly cleaned up the mess. “Zara, Tambara, and Jol,” she said.
“Part of the Four Musketeers,” Pete added. “Joined at the hip.”
“Who’s the fourth?” Remi asked.
“Maryam,” Wendy replied, nodding to the girl who was standing behind the counter, helping serve up the food. “We have a rotation schedule for chores. Today’s her turn on kitchen duty.”
“Glad to see so many girls getting along,” Remi said.
Wendy laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. They definitely have their squabbles. But they want to be here. They quickly learn that everything goes much smoother when they work together.”
Sam was impressed, and it wasn’t long before Nasha had a new tray and was seated at the table with the other girls. She ate her food, her watchful gaze taking in everyone and everything. Even so, Sam decided that Hank was right. She had the distinct appearance of someone who was casing the place and he mentioned it to Remi as they readied themselves for bed that night. “I’ll be surprised if we don’t find a few things missing along the way.”
“I’m less worried about her than I am Amal. I don’t think she’s well. Maybe we should drive her back to the hotel to stay with Renee.”
They had pushed their cots together and were lying on top of them side by side. “After what she’s been through today, it’s expected. If she wants to go back tomorrow, we’ll take her.” Sam put his arm out, drawing Remi toward him. “Nice shooting, by the way.”
“Likewise, Fargo.” She snuggled against him and was asleep within seconds.
The next morning at breakfast, Amal looked considerably better, declining the offer of a return to Jalingo. When they finished eating, Pete and Wendy took the Fargos, Hank, and Amal on a tour of the compound. Pete, having been instrumental in the design and layout, pointed out the solar panels on the south-facing roof of the building that housed the staff quarters and cafeteria. “By the time we’re done,” he said, “the entire school should be completely self-sufficient, including being energy autonomous. We’ve also installed a water purification system at the well.”
The compound was surrounded by a tall, slatted chain-link fence with a gate, which they kept closed and locked. The quadrant of buildings surrounded the large courtyard garden of raised planter beds with a well set in its midst.
“Goats?” Hank asked Pete when he heard bleating coming from the other side of the dorm.
“We have to keep them fenced in behind the dorms or they eat everything in the garden. The chickens,” he said, nodding to the few nearby, who were pecking at the ground, “have free rein.”
Amal watched as a few girls holding handled baskets wandered the grounds searching for eggs. “No wonder breakfast tasted so good.”
“Fresh every day,” Wendy said. “Now, if we could teach the hens to lay their eggs in one spot, we’d have it made.”
“What’s that building?” Hank asked, pointing to a circular structure between the finished dorm and the dorm still under construction.
“Our supply shed,” Pete said. “We wanted to keep it central.”
The four bungalows had wood siding. This, however, had an almost smooth whitewashed plaster exterior. The morning sun glinted off what looked like round tiles, each with a star in the center, inset throughout the plaster. Remi ran her hands over one. “Plastic water bottles?”
“Filled with dry soil,” Pete said. “Lay them like bricks with the bottom facing out, mortar them with mud, and you get the double benefit of insulation and strength.” He looked around, then leaned in close, speaking softly. “Even better, it makes the buildings bulletproof. Safer for the girls. We decided to test the structural strength