Bandiagara, Part 7b
Simon sees his first patient, and Mamadou celebrates the return of electric power by taking a wave from his cousin Juju.
The Captain, walking past the infirmary door, saw Simon and Inara tending to a young boy and his mother. "Had your first patient, I see," he said to Simon, acknowledging Inara with a smile, and greeting the boy and his mother. "You'll be feeling better in no time," he said kindly to the boy. "I've had occasion to test the doctor's services many a time myself, and he always fixes me up fit as a fiddle." He gestured for Simon and Inara to step outside the infirmary with him for a moment.
As soon as they were outside, Mal asked Simon, "What was your agreed upon price?"
"Mal!" Inara exclaimed, while Simon looked shocked.
"Captain—" Simon began to protest, but Mal cut him off.
"Can't afford to operate no charity clinic here, Simon. Mrs Kiné knows that, too. She got a problem payin', she can take it up with the village elders. They got a system for that here."
"I will not deny medical care to those who need it, Captain, particularly when they need it so desperately," Simon said forcefully.
"Ain't askin' you to deny nobody care," Mal retorted. "You treat anybody and everybody what needs it, as long as we got the medical supplies to do it with—so long as they pay."
"Mal, how can you be so cold-hearted about this?" Inara exclaimed. "This isn't some business transaction—"
"The hell it isn't," Mal interrupted.
"—these people need medical care," she continued.
"And we need to eat," Mal returned. "Simon, you can't give away your medical services, and you can't give away the medicines. And that's—"
"I will not go against my oath as a physician and surgeon," Simon interrupted. "It is my duty to provide care to those who need it. I save lives first. Filthy lucre comes far, far down the list of things I worry about."
"Let me tell you something about filthy lucre, Simon," Mal said with fire in his eye. "Survival is pretty gorram hard if you don't got none. I have a duty, as Captain of this boat, to see that my crew don't starve. To see that the boat don't drop outta the sky. I have a duty," he repeated, as Inara began to protest, "an obligation, to pay my crew—one I ain't been able to meet recently, to my shame. It's my duty to find work, paying work, for Serenity and her crew. To keep flying." He spoke with low intensity. "We are hand-to-mouth ourselves, and we cannot afford to offer charity to the whole—"
"Like with the slaves on 泥球 Ní Qiú?" Simon shot out.
Inara could see the barb had struck Mal deep. "Well, yeah, you see, that one just about ruined us. We are still payin' the price for my decision to take on that job for no pay. We don't make good on this Bandiagara venture, we are dead in the water."
Inara knew it was true. She had examined the ship's books only a few days previously.
"If I had 泥球 Ní Qiú to do over again, I wouldn't do it no different," Mal continued, "but much as I'd like to starve and all, I got a crew to look after. Zoe and I discussed the prices with the village elders, and we all agreed. We ain't gouging nobody. Just askin' fair pay for fair work. We didn't get those medicines for free, Simon, and those medicines didn't get transported to Bandiagara for free neither. It cost us, and there ain't nothin' immoral about askin' those who get the medicines to recognize that fact."
Mal paused and breathed deeply. Inara felt fully how difficult a position he was in—even as her instincts told her Simon was right to insist that he would not deny care to impoverished people who couldn't pay, she understood that Mal was not wrong, either. She had not understood how desperate Serenity's financial situation was, until Mal pointed it out. Somehow they had always landed on their feet, before—and now she understood that it was because Mal worked extremely hard to land them on their feet. She felt obligated to mention one more thing. "How can they pay, Mal? There's hardly enough cash in this village to pay for even one operation."
"Don't expect coin. They can pay in goods and services. Long as I leave this planet with something I can sell for cashy money someplace else, I'm happy. Enough to keep flying, 's all I ask." He looked at Simon and Inara, and knew they had given their agreement. His face quirked in a half-smile and he said, "I'm lookin' forward to gettin' paid in food, myself. They got excellent produce here in Fajara. Pineapples, mangos, bananas, watermelons, limes and papayas…" His words had all their mouths watering. "You just go back in there and ask Mrs Kiné there how many pineapples she thinks that operation was worth."
. . .
One of the first trades made was for an electric generator that went to the village council building, which, like the schoolhouse and the mosque, sat outside the cluster of houses that made up the heart of the village. Jayne muscled the piece into position, and Kaylee installed it with the help of both Baaba and Bintou, the Fajara mechanics.
"This here's the access panel," Kaylee explained. "Used ta be on the bottom of the generator, but I didn't the see the point of that. Have ta shut the whole thing down, get a crew of people—or one really strong one," she amended, thinking of Jayne, "to roll the thing on its side just ta fix it—that didn't make no sense. So I refitted the casing. That way you can get at all the moving parts easy. Make it easy to clean if it gets clogged with dust." The two mechanics nodded. During dry season, dust was the bane of machinery on Bandiagara. During the briefer wet season, it was mud. More than one good machine had been killed by dust.
"Now that is thoughtful design!" Bintou exclaimed. "We had a generator that…"
"Bintou, that one never was designed to work in this environment," Baaba interrupted. "It was a miracle it even functioned as long as it did. That one was designed to be placed in a sterile, air-conditioned room—" Both the Fajaran mechanics burst into laughter.
Kaylee joined in. "And there ain't no sterile air-conditioned room in this place, and if'n there were, you wouldn't be keepin' no generator in it," she said. "It was the same on Harvest, where I'm from. Used ta do a lot of business just clearing dust outta the workings, at my daddy's repair shop," Kaylee related. "I figured in a dry place like this, y'all would have a like problem."
. . .
As soon as the new generator was installed, Mamadou celebrated by turning on the village cortex screen. Yes, they did receive the signal, even here in Fajara, but what good was that when most of the time there was no power to run the device? It was so exciting to have the cortex working again that Mamadou stayed in the village office right through the hot part of the day, when he normally retired to his house or the shade of a good tree for a nap.
First, he attended to his duty and checked for messages. A number of them had built up since the last time they'd had electric power in Fajara, and cognizant of his responsibilities, he attended to the official ones first. There were the usual assertions of authority from the World government, the feel-good messages that amounted to nothing more than advertisements from Allmine and 狐狸 Húli Network, and the customary admonishments to report any persons attempting to trade illegally on Bandiagara. There was one personal message from his cousin Juju Kamara. After skimming perfunctorily through the official messages, Mamadou settled in to savor his cousin's greeting.
Since live communications were next to impossible, recorded messages were the principle means of communication between families thus separated, and over the years, each had perfected the art of verbal letter-writing. After responding to his last wave and giving news from her family and other Bandiagarans on Beylix for Mamadou to pass on to their relatives, Juju went on.
"I think you can expect a visit before long from some friends of mine, cousin. Captain Reynolds—the very same man who delivered the long-awaited herd of cattle I told you about—was quite interested when I told him about the state of things on Bandiagara. He paid very close attention when I described the things needed in Fajara, and I am certain that you can expect him to pay a visit within a few weeks or months at the outside. He is a good boy, or young man I should say, and it is clear that he was properly brought up. He has a loyal crew, and they are loyal with good reason. He is a capable leader, conscientious, modest, and polite."
Mamadou raised his eyebrows at her glowing description. Had his good cousin fallen for the Captain? Cousin Juju, for all her serene dignity, had a weakness for young men. No, not that kind of weakness. She was an inveterate matchmaker. She could never resist. Mamadou listened as she continued with her story.
"I invited the Captain and his crew to our house for Friday dinner, and the most romantic thing happened! The Captain introduced us to a most beautiful lady, Miss Inara Serra. It was abundantly clear that the Captain was head over heels in love with the lady, whose gracious acceptance of his attentions indicated her encouragement of his suit. He informed me of their courtship, and when I asked if he did not intend to marry her—what do you think happened? He asked her right on the spot! Told her nothing would make him happier than to be married to her. She smiled her acceptance of his proposal, so modest and demure. It was so joyous! I suppose I need not tell you how delighted I was to be the catalyst of that proper and fitting conclusion to their courtship."
Mamadou smiled in spite of himself. Cousin Juju was responsible for pushing more than one couple together, including himself and his own wife. He smiled again, thinking about his contentment—more than thirty-five years of marriage, and he might not have worked up the gumption to ask Nana to marry him all those years ago, if Cousin Juju had not pushed and prodded at just the right moment.
"I do not know if they will have had an opportunity to marry before they reach you," Juju continued. "Perhaps they may even have a Bandiagaran wedding!"
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glossary
泥球 Ní Qiú [name of a world]
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