the nails were carefully manicured.
Harrison put the cup and saucer down on the desk in front of him and looked up at Daniel again. You got it right, he said. You got it exactly right. Daniel made no comment. He sensed that any modest or deprecating comment would only irritate this man. You got your facts straight, and you drew the right conclusions. It was a refreshing change after all the sentimental and ill-informed crap that we hear every day.
You put your finger on the roots of Africa's problems, tribalism and overpopulation and ignorance and corruption. The solutions you suggested made sense. Harrison nodded. Yes, you got it right. He stared at Daniel thoughtfully. Harrison's faded blue eyes gave him a strangely enigmatic expression, like a blind man.
Don't relax, Daniel warned himself. Not for a moment.
Don't let the flattery soften you up. This is what it's all about.
He's stalking you like an old lion. Someone in your position is able to influence public opinion as others are never able to do, Harrison murmured. You have a reputation, an international audience. People trust your vision.
They base their view on what you tell them. That's good. He nodded even more emphatically. That's very good. I would like to help and encourage you. Thank you. Daniel let a small ironical smile lift one side of his mouth. One thing he was certain of: Tug Harrison did nothing without good reason. He made no free gifts of his help and encouragement. What do they call you, your friends? Daniel, Dan, Danny?
Danny. My friends call me Tug. now, Daniel said. Our thinking is so much in accord. We share the same commitment to Africa. I think we should be friends, Danny. All right, Tug. Harrison smiled. You have every reason to be suspicious I understand. I have a certain reputation.
One should not always judge a man on his reputation, however. That is true. Daniel smiled back at him. Now tell me what you want from me. Damn it! Harrison chuckled. I like you. I think we understand each other. We both believe that man has a right to exist upon this planet, and that, as the dominant animal species, he has the right to exploit the earth for his own benefit, just as long as he does so on a basis of sustained and renewable yield. Yes, Daniel agreed. I believe that. It is the balanced, pragmatic view. I would expect no less of a man of your intelligence. In Europe man has been farming the earth, felling the forests and killing the animals for centuries, and yet the earth is more fertile, the forests denser, the animals more numerous than they were a thousand years ago. Except downwind of Chernobyl, or where the acid rain falls, Daniel pointed out. But Yes, I agree; Europe isn't in bad shape. Africa is another story. Harrison cut in, You and I love Africa. I feel that it is our duty to combat its evils.
I can do something to alleviate the grinding poverty in some parts of the continent, and by investment and guidance offer some of the African people a better way of life. You, with your special gifts, are in a position to counter much of the ignorance that exists about Africa.
You can clear the woolly-headed confusion of the armchair-conservationists and urban animal rights fanatics, those who are so cut off from the earth and the forests and the animals that they are actually menacing the elements of nature which they believe they are protecting. Daniel nodded thoughtfully and noncommittally.
It was weak tactics to disagree with the man until he had listened to everything he had to say, and heard the full proposal that Harrison was obviously working towards. in principle all you say makes excellent sense. However, if you could be a little more specific, Tug. Right, Harrison agreed. Of course you know the state of Ubomo, don't you?
Daniel felt a little electric shock tickle the hair at the back of his neck. It was so unexpected and yet, in some bizarre manner, he felt that it was predestined. Something had been leading him inexorably in that direction. It took him a moment to recover himself, then he said, Ubomo, the land of the red earth. Yes, I have been there, though I can't claim to be an expert on the country. Since independence from Britain in the sixties, it has been a little backwater. Harrison shrugged. There wasn't much to know about it. it was the fief of an arrogant old dictator who resisted all change and progress. Victor Omeru, Daniel said. I met him once, but it was years ago, when he was bickering with his neighbours about the fishing rights in the Lake. That was typical of the man. He resisted all change on principle. He wanted to keep to the traditional ways and customs. He wanted to keep his people docile and compliant. Harrison shook his head. Anyway, that is all history. Omeru has gone and there is a dynamic young man at the head of government. President Ephrem Taffari is there to open up the country and bring his people into the twentieth century. Apart from the fishing rights, Ubomo has considerable natural assets.
Timber and minerals. For twenty years I have tried to convince Omeru that these should be developed for the benefit of his people.
He has resisted with a blind intransigence. Yes. He was stubborn, Daniel agreed. But I liked him. Oh, yes, he was a lovable old codger, Harrison agreed. But that is no longer relevant. The country is ripe and ready for development and, on behalf of an international consortium of which BOSS is the leading member, I have negotiated the concession to undertake a major part of this development. Doesn't sound as though you need me, then. I wish it were as easy as that.
Harrison shook his head. We are being overtaken by the wave of hysteria that is sweeping the world. It is a psychological law that every mass popular movement is hi-jacked by fanatics and pushed beyond the dictates of reason and common sense. The pendulum of public feeling always swings too far in each direction. You are running into opposition to your plans to develop the natural resources of Ubomo. Is that what you are trying to tell me, Tug? Harrison cocked his head on one side. He looked like an eagle when he did that, a great bald-headed bird of prey. You are direct, young man, but I should have expected that. He sat down behind his desk and picked up an ivory-handled duelling pistol which he used as a paper weight. He spun it on his forefinger and the gold inlay on the barrel sparkled like a Catherine-wheel. There was a female scientist working in Ubomo during Omeru's presidency, he went on at last. She and the old man had a close relationship and he gave her all sorts of special privileges that he denied other journalists and researchers. She published a book on the forest-dwellers of Ubomo. You and I would call them pygmies, although that term is unfashionable in today's climate. The title was.
. . Harrison paused to think, and Daniel intervened. The title was The People of the Tall Trees.
Yes, I have read the book. The author's name is Kelly Kinnear. Have you met her?
Harrison demanded. No. Daniel shook his head. But I would like to.
She writes well. Her style reminds me of Rachel Carson. She is a-'She is a trouble-maker, Harrison cut in bluntly. She is a shit-stirrer. The coarse term seemed uncharacteristic of him. You'll have to explain that to me. Daniel kept his voice even and his expression neutral. He didn't want to declare his sentiments until he had heard Harrison out. When he came to power, President Taffari sent for this woman. She was working in the forest at the time. He explained to her his plans for the advancement and development of the country, and asked for her support and her assistance. The meeting was not a success. Kelly Kinnear had some misguided sense of loyalty to old President Omeru and she resisted President Taffari's overtures of friendship. She is entitled to her views, of course, but then she began a campaign of agitation within Ubomo's borders. She accused Taffari of violations of human rights. She also accused him of planning to rape the country's natural resources by uncontrolled exploitation. Harrison throw up those powerful scarred hands. In fact she went into female hysterics and attacked the new government in every way she was able. There was no logic nor reason nor even factual basis for these attacks. Taffari had no alternative but to send her packing.
