The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

“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 here. Eventually, we’ll do the same to the other buildings.”

Wendy nodded. “A shame we have to think that way, but with so many of these terrorist groups against educating women, it was a necessity.”

“I like the setup,” Sam said, giving a nod of approval as he looked around. He especially liked the way the buildings surrounded the courtyard, making it very defensible. He turned toward Pete. “You have that inventory list?”

Pete held up the clipboard. “I had a feeling you’d want to go over that.”

“Let’s get started.” He put his hand on Remi’s shoulder. “I’ll catch up with the rest of you in a bit. No sense boring all of you with paperwork.”

“Just make sure you’re back in time for the hard labor.” She smiled at Wendy. “Let’s go see those classrooms.”

“This way,” Wendy said, leading Remi, Amal, and Hank out of the courtyard.

Sam and Pete walked off the opposite direction, Sam looking over the clipboard, which was nothing more than a copy of the invoice he’d picked up from the warehouse in Jalingo. They pretended interest in what was on the paper until the others disappeared inside. As soon as the door closed, Sam glanced at Pete. “Let’s take a look at this thing.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

In the moment of crisis, the wise build bridges,

the foolish build dams.

– NIGERIAN PROVERB –

Pete led Sam around to the back of the circular shed. To their left was the pen with a couple of dozen goats. The two full-time live-in staff members, Yaro and his wife, Monifa, were feeding the animals. When Yaro saw them looking at the dirt piled behind the shed, he said something to his wife, then walked over and joined them.

“Yaro,” Sam said, shaking hands with him.

“Glad you made it out here, Mr. Fargo.”

Sam nodded at the dirt. “I see you’ve made good progress.”

“Slow, but steady,” Yaro said.

“Let’s go see how it’s coming along.”

Yaro led them back to the courtyard garden area, gesturing to one of the raised beds, this one with seedlings planted in neat rows, some sort of squash by the looks of the leaves. “That’s how we get rid of it.”

“So far, so good,” Pete said. “No one’s seemed to notice that no matter how much dirt we shovel from the pile, it doesn’t seem to get smaller.”

“How far did this get you?” Sam asked him.

“About the size of a decent basement, which should hold everyone.”

“Stocked?”

“With the basics. Air vents hidden beneath the buildings.” He pointed to the raised foundation of the dorm and schoolroom, grilles visible under each but looking like they belonged to the main structure. “I’d say with what’s down there, they could last a good week to ten days.”

“Longer,” Yaro said, “if we can double the size and get more water stored.”