“Every improvement you see here is part of an integrated scheme,” she said with a sweep of her hands. “I planned the project as if I were building a new infrastructure for Sao Paulo. I worked for months before one spadeful of earth was turned, putting everything in place, right down to the allocation of capital, sources of supply, and labor. I had to establish a subsidiary to manufacture the specialized tools that would be needed to produce wooden pipe, valves, and fittings. At the same time it was necessary to keep the village functioning without interrupting hunting and harvesting.”

“Remarkable,” Gamay said, looking around at the neatly ordered huts. She couldn't help comparing the village with the squalor of Dieter's empire or the relatively civilized settlement where Dr. Ramirez had his house. “Absolutely remarkable,” Gamay repeated.

“Thank you, but once I had the preparations in place it wasn't as difficult as it looks. The key was water flow. It's just as essential to life and living here as it is back in the so-called civilized world. I assigned digging crews to divert the river. We had the same problems as any project. The shovel makers complained that we were pushing them too hard and that quality was suffering.” She laughed. “It was exhilarating. We made a canal to open a tributary from the lake. Once we established the water supply, it was a simple matter to divert it to the public wells. The gristmill was basic time-proven technology.”

“The water wheel is as good as anything I've seen in the old industrial towns in New England,” Paul said, stopping in front of a hut no bigger than a one-car garage. “But I am really impressed with the plumbing in these public commodes. Back where I come from they used outhouses right into the twentieth century.”

“I'm particularly proud of the public water closets,” she said as they continued their tour. “When I finally admitted to myself that my desalination process would never see the light of day, I turned my efforts to improving the life of these wretched savages. They lived at a Stone Age level. Their hygiene was pitiful. Mothers routinely died in childbirth. The infant mortality rate was incredible. The adults were the targets of every parasite that grows in the rain forest. Their traditional medicinal plants were simply overwhelmed. Diet was of little nutrition. Producing a clean and reliable water flow not only protected the people from their usual ailments, but it allowed them to grow the crops that would keep them healthy.”

“We were wondering whether your talents extended to surgery,” Gamay said. “Tessa's brother had a peculiar scar on his body.”

She clapped her hands like a delighted child. “Oh, the appendectomy! He would have died if I hadn't acted. My training was limited to first aid. I had the Chulo pharmacology to thank. They dip their blowgun darts in the sap from a plant. They use it to paralyze game, but even a small amount can incapacitate a human. I smeared it on a large leaf and placed it on the skin. It functioned as a local anesthetic. The stitches used to close the wound were made with fibers from another plant that seems to resist infection. The knife had an obsidian point, sharper than a scalpel. Nothing high-tech, I'm afraid.”