Page 32
Story: No Questions Asked
“Why do you have a drone in the lab?” I asked, inspecting, but not touching it.
“Research,” Natelli replied. “We will likely use drones to drop vaccines for future use. We’ll have to train some of the natives on how to inject or administer the vaccine. That way, the indigenous people aren’t forced to interact with us more than necessary. We consider it our duty and responsibility to interfere as little as possible with the culture and way of life of these populations. You know, kind of likeStar Trek’s prime directive—we shouldn’t interfere or use our technology and knowledge to impose our own values or ideals on them.”
“That’s really admirable,” I said. “Not to mention the coolness points you just racked up for using aStar Trekreference in a real-life scientific situation.”
She laughed. “I’m a nerd. Scientist, remember?”
Yep, she definitely got points for that. Anyone who knew Star Trek intimatelyandcould apply it to everyday life deserved my respect.
Natelli headed toward the corner of the lab, motioning at us to follow. “Come on, I’ll show you the computer setup. But I warn you, you only have a short time to inspect it. We have to head to dinner shortly. You can come back after that if you have any energy after your long day of travel.”
Natelli led us to the small computer setup they had running in the corner of the room. It was simple, with just a few laptops, one desktop and a mobile printer. Tim had already briefed us on the setup, so none of it was a surprise. Just the same, Slash and I had brought additional equipment and software to beef things up.
“Did you set this up?” I asked.
“I did, but it’s totally basic and Tim had to walk me through it remotely. Trust me when I say I feel one hundred percent better turning this operation over to you. Computers, other than for word processing, research and calculating, are not my thing.”
“You did a good job. We’re looking forward to helping,” I said. “And we brought a lot better equipment to work with.”
After a minute, she left Slash and me alone and went off to speak with Gwen. Slash and I quickly familiarized ourselves with the arrangement, immediately seeing things we needed to do. The technology that had been sent by Vaccitex was sitting in boxes near the workstation. We decided to set up the company equipment first before we brought in our own stuff, which was now in our respective sleeping quarters, so while I focused on upgrading the software and operating system, Slash began unpacking the new company hardware and networking everything together.
Natelli asked me to set up a satellite-supported network, piggybacking on a Brazilian government satellite to better establish the Internet and network access. We were given the appropriate passwords and sites to access the needed information to get started. While I worked on that, everyone else began to pitch in and help label the vaccine samples and print out and stack the physical forms required for the distribution. Gwen was assigned to work the blood analysis equipment and would also help feed information and databases to us containing the information they were using to reflect the different tribal populations. There were several other people working in the lab, but everyone else was busy, and we didn’t want to interrupt, so we saved our hellos for later.
We only had time to work for a half hour before Natelli insisted we go to dinner in the dining area. It was basically a large rough-hewn hut next door to the lab with three long rectangular card tables and several chairs. Security staff was already at one of the tables eating what looked like a scrumptious beef stew with thick slabs of dark bread.
Natelli saw me looking at it. “It’sfeijoada, a rich, hearty stew made with different cuts of pork and black beans. It’s delicious.”
I was suddenly famished, but we weren’t ready to sit down yet. A man sitting at the table with the guards rose when he saw Natelli and us and she waved him over. He had thick dark hair and the bushiest eyebrows I’d ever seen. A gun was clipped to a holster on his right hip and a huge knife and sheath rested against the other. He didn’t look happy to see us, his expression just one step away from a glower.
“Lexi, Gwen and Slash, I’d like you to meet the camp head of security, Gabriel Costa,” Natelli said calmly. “He’s responsible for the physical security of the lab, the research, and the staff.”
We greeted him before he nodded curtly and returned to his seat without a single word to any of us. When we walked away, Natelli lowered her voice. “Don’t take his gruffness personally. He’s got a lot on his plate keeping us all safe.”
“Does he speak English?” I asked.
“He does, but he’s a man of few words.”
“So I see.”
“Is he a company hire or a government loan?” Slash asked.
“Company hire, but recommended by the Brazilian government. He’s quite competent. Come on, I want you to meet Vicente.”
She led us to another man who was eating, his back to us. When she tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around in his chair. Unlike Gabriel, he seemed happy to see us.
He thrust out a hand, shaking each of ours warmly. “Welcome to camp. I’m Vicente Lopes, the team translator.”
We introduced ourselves and sat down in the empty seats next to him to eat our dinner. Natelli was pulled away by a lab-coated woman with a question, but she promised to check in on us later.
The serving staff brought us bowls of stew and pieces of bread. I didn’t waste any time digging in. The stew was delicious and I dipped my bread in it like the others, realizing how useful it was to soften the bread. While we ate, we quizzed Vicente on his job as team translator.
“How many languages do you speak in addition to English and Portuguese?” I asked.
“Nine.” He shrugged. “This area of the rainforest has many different local dialects. I grew up not far from here, so I know most of them.”
“I presume that makes you one of the most valuable team members. Your translation skills will be crucial to gaining the trust of the village population.”
“I’ll certainly do my best.”
“Research,” Natelli replied. “We will likely use drones to drop vaccines for future use. We’ll have to train some of the natives on how to inject or administer the vaccine. That way, the indigenous people aren’t forced to interact with us more than necessary. We consider it our duty and responsibility to interfere as little as possible with the culture and way of life of these populations. You know, kind of likeStar Trek’s prime directive—we shouldn’t interfere or use our technology and knowledge to impose our own values or ideals on them.”
“That’s really admirable,” I said. “Not to mention the coolness points you just racked up for using aStar Trekreference in a real-life scientific situation.”
She laughed. “I’m a nerd. Scientist, remember?”
Yep, she definitely got points for that. Anyone who knew Star Trek intimatelyandcould apply it to everyday life deserved my respect.
Natelli headed toward the corner of the lab, motioning at us to follow. “Come on, I’ll show you the computer setup. But I warn you, you only have a short time to inspect it. We have to head to dinner shortly. You can come back after that if you have any energy after your long day of travel.”
Natelli led us to the small computer setup they had running in the corner of the room. It was simple, with just a few laptops, one desktop and a mobile printer. Tim had already briefed us on the setup, so none of it was a surprise. Just the same, Slash and I had brought additional equipment and software to beef things up.
“Did you set this up?” I asked.
“I did, but it’s totally basic and Tim had to walk me through it remotely. Trust me when I say I feel one hundred percent better turning this operation over to you. Computers, other than for word processing, research and calculating, are not my thing.”
“You did a good job. We’re looking forward to helping,” I said. “And we brought a lot better equipment to work with.”
After a minute, she left Slash and me alone and went off to speak with Gwen. Slash and I quickly familiarized ourselves with the arrangement, immediately seeing things we needed to do. The technology that had been sent by Vaccitex was sitting in boxes near the workstation. We decided to set up the company equipment first before we brought in our own stuff, which was now in our respective sleeping quarters, so while I focused on upgrading the software and operating system, Slash began unpacking the new company hardware and networking everything together.
Natelli asked me to set up a satellite-supported network, piggybacking on a Brazilian government satellite to better establish the Internet and network access. We were given the appropriate passwords and sites to access the needed information to get started. While I worked on that, everyone else began to pitch in and help label the vaccine samples and print out and stack the physical forms required for the distribution. Gwen was assigned to work the blood analysis equipment and would also help feed information and databases to us containing the information they were using to reflect the different tribal populations. There were several other people working in the lab, but everyone else was busy, and we didn’t want to interrupt, so we saved our hellos for later.
We only had time to work for a half hour before Natelli insisted we go to dinner in the dining area. It was basically a large rough-hewn hut next door to the lab with three long rectangular card tables and several chairs. Security staff was already at one of the tables eating what looked like a scrumptious beef stew with thick slabs of dark bread.
Natelli saw me looking at it. “It’sfeijoada, a rich, hearty stew made with different cuts of pork and black beans. It’s delicious.”
I was suddenly famished, but we weren’t ready to sit down yet. A man sitting at the table with the guards rose when he saw Natelli and us and she waved him over. He had thick dark hair and the bushiest eyebrows I’d ever seen. A gun was clipped to a holster on his right hip and a huge knife and sheath rested against the other. He didn’t look happy to see us, his expression just one step away from a glower.
“Lexi, Gwen and Slash, I’d like you to meet the camp head of security, Gabriel Costa,” Natelli said calmly. “He’s responsible for the physical security of the lab, the research, and the staff.”
We greeted him before he nodded curtly and returned to his seat without a single word to any of us. When we walked away, Natelli lowered her voice. “Don’t take his gruffness personally. He’s got a lot on his plate keeping us all safe.”
“Does he speak English?” I asked.
“He does, but he’s a man of few words.”
“So I see.”
“Is he a company hire or a government loan?” Slash asked.
“Company hire, but recommended by the Brazilian government. He’s quite competent. Come on, I want you to meet Vicente.”
She led us to another man who was eating, his back to us. When she tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around in his chair. Unlike Gabriel, he seemed happy to see us.
He thrust out a hand, shaking each of ours warmly. “Welcome to camp. I’m Vicente Lopes, the team translator.”
We introduced ourselves and sat down in the empty seats next to him to eat our dinner. Natelli was pulled away by a lab-coated woman with a question, but she promised to check in on us later.
The serving staff brought us bowls of stew and pieces of bread. I didn’t waste any time digging in. The stew was delicious and I dipped my bread in it like the others, realizing how useful it was to soften the bread. While we ate, we quizzed Vicente on his job as team translator.
“How many languages do you speak in addition to English and Portuguese?” I asked.
“Nine.” He shrugged. “This area of the rainforest has many different local dialects. I grew up not far from here, so I know most of them.”
“I presume that makes you one of the most valuable team members. Your translation skills will be crucial to gaining the trust of the village population.”
“I’ll certainly do my best.”
Table of Contents
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