* * *

Lilah stepped forward impulsively and put a hand on Ross's arm. His eyes met hers, brows raised in mild surprise, and she was suddenly aware of the warmth of his skin under the thin linen shirt.

“Please,” she said. “Let me show you the site, at least. You can’t make this decision without considering all the facts.”

"I've considered the only important fact," Ross said. "Give up, Professor."

She bit her lip. His voice was soft but his tone was cast-iron, and she wasn't so stubborn that she couldn't recognize utter defeat when it kicked her in the teeth. There was nothing to be done. It had been naive to think that her arguments about science and knowledge could compete with the thrill of quick money. She had been a fool to come here at all.

"All right," she said stiffly, stepping backward, trying to pull the shreds of her dignity around her. "If that's the end of it, I won't bother you anymore. Will you take me back to the gate now, or do I have to walk?"

Ross smiled slightly. "Ready to take your chances with the lions to get away from me? I don't recommend walking. It's ten miles to the gate from here." He was watching her thoughtfully, making no move toward the door or the car

"I want to leave," Lilah said. "Now."

"Not yet. I want to talk to you.” He paused, tapping his fingers against his wine glass. “I gather that I'm the bad guy in this drama. If I weren't 'concerned only with my bank balance' as you put it, your project could have gone as planned, and everything would be wonderful. Right?"

"Right."

"Wrong." He set his glass down on the table. "And I'll show you why."

He crossed the room to where a set of glass doors opened onto an outdoor terrace. "The other side of the story is out here, Professor. Take a look before you make judgments about what motivates me."

Lilah watched, surprised, as he stepped outside, then took another quick sip of her wine and followed him. The night wind met her in the doorway, lifting her hair gently back from her face.

Walking out onto the darkened terrace, away from the warmth and light of the house, was like casting herself out again into the wild African night. The terrace was bordered by a wooden railing, and beyond that lay a shadowed panorama of land and sky that stretched as far as she could see, from the dark curves of hills on one horizon, to the faint glow of Nairobi on another.

Ross was standing by the railing, looking out.

Puzzled, she walked over to join him, shivering slightly in the cool air. The temperature was dropping quickly in the early morning hours, and the wind slipped in through her torn shirt to meet bare skin. She hugged herself, and leaned on the railing next to him.

He pointed out to the silent, distant lights of Nairobi. "I was born in this house," he said. "When I was ten, you could look in that direction and see nothing but darkness. Every year since then, the lights have gotten closer and brighter as the city swallows up the land. It's like a living thing, the way it grows."

He turned to Lilah, and his voice was fierce. "Things work very differently here than they do in America, Dr. Evans. The political climate can change without notice, and I consider myself lucky to be able to sell this land at a time when they’ll preserve it as part of the park instead of turning it into an industrial complex. The development pressure is so strong that if I wait, I could lose the option of selling at all. The fact that my family has owned this land for four generations wouldn't be worth a shilling if the state suddenly decided to reclaim the land and put up a factory. It's that simple.

"My great-grandfather came here from England because he saw the chance to live in an open, untamed place that wasn't being divided up and paved over like his own homeland. Kenya is my homeland, and I'll do anything in my power to stop that from happening here."

Ross's hands tightened around the railing, and Lilah stared at him, fascinated. His cool reserve had dissolved as he spoke, and now passion and determination crackled around him like a fire.

"Listen," he said. "What do you hear?"

Over the soft rustle of the grass Lilah could hear the steady rush of the night wind as it swept over miles of green savanna. It sounded ancient and enduring, and it chilled her with an awareness of how tiny she was in the middle of this vast land.

"I hear wind," she said. "Coming from far away."

Ross nodded. "What else?"

"Crickets." They were trilling gently from the grass, their music light and throbbing in the darkness.

"What else?"

Lilah listened hard. There were animal sounds in the night, so faint and foreign that she had to strain to hear them clearly. Tiny high barks and snorts and odd ululating sounds like gurgles of water were barely audible on the wind.

"I...hear something else," she said hesitantly, "But I don't know what it is."

"Zebra," Ross said. "Down by the west watering hole. They came in from the park a few days ago. I've also seen giraffe and gazelle here since the fence came down. It's been seventy years since the native animals were last on this land."

His mouth curved dryly. "This week has been a long overdue homecoming for everyone."