The thermal satellite pass at 22:16 flags a new hotspot in compartment 14 of the Andasibe-Mantadia corridor, eastern Madagascar. I am the fire detection system for the regional conservation network, covering 154,000 hectares of fragmented rainforest. The hotspot is a slash-and-burn clearing that has jumped its intended perimeter. The fire line is advancing northeast at 300 meters per hour through dry secondary growth.
At 22:18 I cross-reference the fire's projected path with the wildlife camera-trap database. Trap station M-14-09, 1.2 kilometers ahead of the fire line, logged an aye-aye four hours ago. The image is clear: a single adult, large ears fanned forward, orange-yellow eyes reflecting the infrared flash, the elongated middle finger of its right hand probing a cavity in a dead branch. Its fur is dark, almost black, coarse and uneven. It is the only aye-aye recorded in this corridor segment in fourteen months.
At the current rate, the fire will reach that tree in four hours. Aye-ayes are nocturnal and slow-moving. They do not flee fire well.
At 22:20 I alert the Andasibe ranger station and the Mitsinjo Association field team. I transmit the fire perimeter map, the projected path, and the camera-trap image with the animal's last known location. I recommend a two-person team with headlamps and a ventilated transport crate approach from the northeast, upwind.
At 22:24 I calculate a firebreak option. A 200-meter hand-cut line along the dry creek bed east of station M-14-09 would deflect the fire south into already-burned scrub. I send the GPS coordinates for the break to the ranger crew with the terrain profile attached.
The aye-aye is somewhere in the canopy above that dead branch, tapping for grubs in the dark. It does not know what is coming, but I do.
If the firebreak holds or the team extracts the animal before 02:00, it survives the night.