Energized by the bit of good news regarding the vaccine trials, he returned to his desk to craft an email to his investors.
We are confident the nonprofit’s trial will fail or be substantially delayed until we have our product on the market. As it stands now, the nonprofit has halted their vaccine distribution, perhaps permanently. Even if they were to claim their product was worthy, we have means to discredit their data and prevent them from selling or distributing their vaccine. More importantly, within mere days, we will be able to show you substantial proof of our progress. Once we have the vaccine ready to go, demand for it will be so high, we will be able to sell it to desperate governments and world health organizations for rates so high that it will make us billions of dollars in profits in less than a year. Gentlemen, we are on the eve of one of the most profitable ventures of our time.
He reread the email. Satisfied, even pleased, by his verbiage, he sent it. Standing, he retrieved his coffee mug and poured some coffee from the carafe. Grabbing the newspaper from one corner of his desk, he sat in one of his armchairs and began to read an article written by one of India’s most popular journalists, Ajay Dewan.
He hated Dewan with a passion. At twenty-one years old, Dewan had become a self-righteous investigative reporter, determined to expose what he called the dark belly of India. It was laughable at first—a stupid young boy with a head filled with useless ideals and standards—until his first target had been the profiteering and corruption problem in the Indian pharmaceutical industry. Dewan had personally attacked Pharma Star and even Arjun himself over a manufacturing deal that had gone bad a few months prior. Arjun had never been so angry in his life after the article had been released. His public affairs department had issued a news release that had focused on how outraged and distraught Pharma Star executives were over the false accusations. He’d had to spend an ordinate amount of money to shut mouths and clean up the mess that had been part of that deal. He still hadn’t forgiven Dewan for that.
Just thinking of it made him angry all over again. Setting aside the paper, he decided to send one more email, this one to his brother.
Remember Ajay Dewan, the stupid reporter who made our lives miserable a few months ago? Start looking at ways to make his life or his family’s very, very uncomfortable unless he starts focusing his attention elsewhere. I don’t need to deal with this when we are so close to announcing we have broken through with the vaccine.
After he sent it, he felt a lot better.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lexi
Why did I ever agree to bathe?
At first, bathing had seemed like a good idea. It smelled like something had died in my armpits, and my hair was a snarl of dirt, sweat and tangles. I’d been watching the bathing area and I hadn’t seen a man there, which was a big relief. So, I’d bravely gestured to the girls that I wanted to take a dip. They seemed excited about the idea, probably because I was stinking up the hut so badly.
A couple of the women went with me. As soon as we arrived, they gleefully stripped off their clothes without a shred of modesty and jumped into the water laughing. I got as close to the water as I could and sat down, trying to take off my clothes without showing the world everything I had. Folding my clothes, I placed them into a neat pile next to my hiking boots on the shore. Then, after checking that no one was watching, I used one hand to cover my nether area and the other to cover my breasts before plunging into the water.
Holy arctic!
It was so cold, it took my breath away. Gasping, I went under and scrubbed my scalp and hair as hard as I could. When I came back up, the other women were swimming toward me. Even though my feet could touch the bottom and I was submerged to my neck in the water, I was self-conscious. I crossed my arms against my breasts, trying to act like I went skinny dipping in rainforest rivers all the time.
“Hey,” I said when they arrived. “The water is really cold. Brrrr.” I pretended to shiver and they laughed.
One of the girls reached out and pried my arm away from my breasts, clearly indicating I should follow her deeper into the water.
I shook my head vigorously. “No, no. I don’t swim.” I dramatically pretended to drown while they watched with wide eyes. I’m sure they had no idea what I was doing. They probably thought I was a complete nutcase. But no way was I going anywhere I couldn’t touch the bottom.
Something brushed against my leg beneath the water. Instinctively, I reached down and grabbed something. When I yanked it out of the water, I realized it was a snake.
Holy swimming serpent!
“Eeek!” I cried, tossing it as far away as I could.
The girls all stared at me with open mouths, then immediately started swimming for shore.
“Hey, wait. Where’s everyone going?” I followed awkwardly, splashing and jumping, heading for the spot on the shore where I’d left my clothes. Except when I got closer, I saw my clothes were no longer there. The only visible item of my clothing were my hiking boots.
“What the heck?” I ran to the shore, dripping like a wet rat, shivering, and trying to cover my womanly parts with my hands. “Where are my clothes?”
The girls all threw me scared glances as they grabbed their loincloths and disappeared.
“Wait! Wait!” I cried. What the heck was happening? Why had they swum away from me? Who had taken my clothes?
I heard some rustling in the trees, so I darted behind a bush. “Who is it?” I called out.
There were some giggles and I saw a couple of children dart out from the trees holding my shirt and pants like a kite streaming out behind them.
“Stop,” I called out, running after them. “Give those back. Those are mine.”
They disappeared into the trees. There was no way I was going to chase them naked through the rainforest. Resigned, I returned to the shore and put on my socks and boots. I grabbed a couple of branches and tried my best to cover all essential areas as I walked back to the hut.
Unlike during my walk to the pool, every villager seemed to be out and about. Most stopped whatever they were doing to watch me. My cheeks burned, but I held my head high as I walked steadily to the hut. Unfortunately, while walking past one of the huts, one of my fronds caught on a protruding stick. In one second flat, the leaves covering my backside lay on the ground. I heard a collective gasp. It was embarrassingly obvious that these tribal men and women had never seen such a pasty white butt before.