Maxence said, “I have rented a helicopter to ferry us to the Jumla district of Karnali province tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. We will arrive in Chandannath soon after. Taking a bus would have required at least a full day, perhaps two. Once we arrive, we will proceed to the rental depot, where the charity has reserved three jeeps for us. We also have camping supplies for when we evaluate smaller communities, though we intend to stay in inns or hostels whenever possible.”
Maxence bit his lip for a moment. They had reserved six pup tents for sleeping, but many of the inns they’d planned to stay in had only two or three rooms, total.
Since these rural excursions had always been all-men, he’d assumed they could pair up and bunk together. With Dree along, she would need one room alone, and the five of them would need to share the other room or two.
At least some of the guys would probably end up sleeping in the tents more often than not. He would volunteer, of course, but he wasn’t sure which of the other guys would have the stamina to rough it for so long.
Max continued from where he sat on the brick step in front of the cold fireplace. “It is quite likely that we will build several micro-NICU pilot projects with supplies that will be helicoptered in. We will be in the field at least six weeks, perhaps as long as two months.”
Everyone was nodding, and the people who were taking notes scratched along as Max spoke.
Dree piped up and asked, “So, there really aren’t medical personnel in the smaller communities?”
Maxence shook his head. “Some of these people won’t have seen a doctor in years. In many of the small villages, no one owns a vehicle, not even a motorcycle. People live there the way they have for centuries, planting one crop per year of cold-tolerant rice, wheat, barley, or potatoes because the growing season is so short in the foothills of the Himalayas. Trucks come a few times a year to resupply a small store and buy excess crops.”
Dree nodded and wrote quickly on her notepad. “I’m assuming no Wi-Fi or internet service.”
Maxence nodded. “Maybe at some of the inns, but many of the towns do not have electricity or any infrastructure. When we go on these trips, sometimes I’m incommunicado for months.”
Alfonso lowered his tablet. “That hasn’t been the case on the trips that I’ve gone on with you.”
“You’ve gone mostly to South and Central America,” Maxence said. “Our missions there tend to be in the larger cities because local priests with a better knowledge of the area take the more rural missions. Nepal is mostly Hindu and some Buddhists. There are very few Catholic priests here. Therefore, when we want to do something in an area like this, we send groups like us who have no local knowledge, and then we hope for the best.”
“This sounds like quite a mission you’ve dragged us on.” Isaak grinned at Max and gestured to his cup of coffee on the low table. “You have anything stronger?”
Maxence shook his head. “Father Xavier doesn’t keep alcohol at the rectory.”
Isaak blew air through his lips in a raspberry and flipped his fingers at the ceiling. “First, you tell us no Wi-Fi, and then you tell us there’s no booze? Did you really ask the heir to a vodka fortune to accompany you on a dry trip?”
Maxence tried not to roll his eyes, and maybe it worked. Maybe it didn’t. “I said there wasn’t any alcoholin the rectory.There are plenty of bars in Kathmandu, and I’m sure there will be liquor at the inns where we will stay.”
Isaak smiled bigger. “Now you’re speaking my language.” His glance slid toward Dree, who was industriously taking notes on her paper tablet and didn’t notice.
Anger surged through Maxence, and he stood.
Isaak looked up at him, cold humor in his blue eyes. “Something you wanted to say?”
Maxence returned to his seat, brushing imaginary dust off his black pants as he did. “Are there any questions about the schedule or the accommodations?”
Everyone shook their heads, but Alfonso seemed to be eyeing Dree as he did.
Maxence said, “We leave tomorrow morning. Make sure you’re here at the rectory by six o’clock because Father Booker will offer Mass for us before we leave. I’ll be spending the rest of the day bribing officials for the requisite permits. Alfonso, Isaak, you’ll come with me.”
Maxence sat in the Minister of Immigration’s parlor and sipped the milky tea the man’s wife had provided. “Yes, Minister, but this mission through the charity was not planned months in advance. Mr. Alfonso de Borbón y Grecia, here,” Maxence indicated his long-time friend with a gentle hand gesture, “recently designed the innovative micro-NICU unit. It still needs some development, and Nepal is lucky that he and his company have decided to allow Nepal to participate in the development process.”
The minister, who was a tiny, skinny man, slurped his tea and gave the cup back to his wife, who hovered around the group. “The permits should have been acquired months ago. Perhaps even a year.”
“Mr. Borbón y Grecia had not even conceived of the micro-NICU unit several months ago. He only designed the most integral parts a few weeks ago, and Catholic Charities began looking for a site for the pilot project soon after.”
The minister shook his head, squeezing his mouth together into a recalcitrant, unimpressed dot. “The Nepali government does not allow permits to be expedited.”
Beside Max, Isaak leaned forward and placed his tea on the small table, clasping his hands between his knees and looking the small minister directly in his eyes. “It’s imperative to place some of these micro-NICU’s in a country where they are likely to be used, and it’s a great opportunity for Nepal to have access to such innovative medical equipment. Surely, there is somesmall feewe could pay to make sure we have the necessary permits to go into Jumla territory.”
The tiny minister bounded to his feet. His dusky skin turned an impressive shade of scarlet. “We do not do bribes here! If we did bribes here, hundreds of people would die on Mount Everest every year instead of the stupid few who do.”
Maxence smiled at the minister, allowing his breath to flow smoothly. He summoned his sincerity and considered the importance of their mission, and he said, “These micro-NICUs are a beautiful way to save children’s lives. It’s vital that we construct some as soon as possible because children are being born prematurely across Nepal, and many of them can’t get the medical help they need.” The importance of it, the sheer gravity of what he was saying, filled his voice, and his soul expanded to fill the room. “We need your help. You can help the premature babies of Nepal. Will you help us obtain these permits so that we can leave tomorrow morning?”
Isaak was watching Max warily, but Alfonso was watching the minister’s reaction.
