As Nate held the small object that reminded him of a plastic cigarette holder, Juan adjusted a few more of the knobs under the LED readout and said, “This is a dual-gas capnography unit. It’ll measure the levels of oxygen and carbon dioxide you breathe out. Just take a deep breath, put the end of the pipette into your mouth, seal your lips around the end, and blow hard until you’re completely out of breath. I’ll ask you to do that three times. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Juan pressed a button, and the box beeped. “Okay, deep breath and blow.”

Nate did as he was told, emptying his lungs. After three rounds in quick succession, he felt a little lightheaded.

Juan replaced the used pipette while he read the data off the LED readout. “Average O2 exhalation was 15.87% with CO2 exhalation at 4.15%. Good. About what I’d expect.”

“So the machine is working?” Nate asked.

“It is.” Juan smiled. “And you’ll be glad to know you don’t have the virus.”

The door to the room opened, and the same airman who had greeted them outside the building walked in with a clipboard. “Dr. Gutierrez, we’ve got everyone here listed by number. For each, you’ll find their recorded temperatures and whether or not they were a primary recipient of the treatment. Are you ready for them?”

“Yes, thank you. Bring them in one at a time. I’ll want to do a basic physical, see how they’re doing, and then I’ll screen them further.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll be back with the first patient and a translator.”

“Translator?” Juan asked.

“Yes, sir. A good portion of these folks are from South America.”

“Sergeant, I can speak Spanish.”

The sergeant nodded. “Of course, sir. And what about Portuguese?”

Juan paused. “Ah. Yes, you’d better send the translator.”

While they waited for the first patient to arrive, Juan pulled on the white lab coat he’d brought. He smiled at Nate. “I’ve rarely worked with human patients, so I might as well look the part.”

Soon enough a short middle-aged woman walked in and shook hands with Juan. He then communicated through the translator, “Please have a seat. So, how are you feeling?”

Nate watched as Juan listened to her heart, took the woman’s blood pressure, and asked general questions about her well-being.

After some back and forth with the translator, Juan had the Portuguese-speaking woman blow into the pipette.

Nate looked over the doctor’s shoulder at the results. This woman’s oxygen was lower than his had been, and her CO2 was nearly double what he’d blown. He knew what that meant.

Juan scribbled something down and thanked the woman, and she left.

“Positive?” Nate asked.

Juan’s expression was somber. “I’m afraid so. She’s been given the viral treatment.”

###