A Cold-Blooded Business (4 page)

She leaned back and replaced the brochure in the seat pocket. Nothing in this world put the significance of human life on earth in perspective better or faster than a geologic timetable.

Moments later they began their descent, landing under a sky as white as the ground. The 727 rolled out to a stop on the apron, the rear air stairs dropped and she followed the rest of the passengers to the bus parked at the foot of the stairs. A jumbled mass of buildings passed in review as they left the airport. The fog hung close to the tundra, causing the windows on the bus to weep long, rolling tears of condensation that collected along the sills and dripped on the shoulders of the passengers. The little lakes visible at the fog's edge were frozen hard. The fog, the snow flurries, the white, icy surface of the road and the endless length of frozen tundra melded into each other and distorted the horizon. It was disconcerting to have to remind oneself which way was up.

It didn't look anything at all like the pictures in the brochure. It looked like a Sahara of snow. Kate didn't realize she had said the words out loud until she caught the sideways glance of the tiny blonde sitting next to her. "Robert Lowell," she added.

"Uh-huh," the blonde said, who looked like a scowling Madonna with more clothes on. She also looked vaguely familiar, but Kate couldn't place her immediately. She hoped she hadn't arrested her at some point in the past. Across the aisle and up two rows sat a brunette with glossy hair and languishing brown eyes. Beside Kate they were the only two women on the bus. The rest of the passengers and the driver were men, and everyone was enveloped in the same dark blue, company-issue parkas that turned them all the approximate size of gorillas.

Next to her the blonde stirred. "Dale Triplett, production operator.

First time up?"

"Yes," Kate said. "Kate Shugak. New hire."

"Hey, Dale," someone yelled from the back of the bus, "how'd Xaviera do in the time trials?"

"I don't know," Dale yelled back over her shoulder, "call me this afternoon. Which department?" she asked Kate.

"Uh, field transportation? I was hired as a roustabout."

"Ah." The blonde nodded as if that explained everything. She eyed Kate curiously. "Where are you from, originally?"

"Niniltna." The blonde smiled suddenly and her whole face changed. "I've been there. I'm from Cordova myself."

"No kidding!"

"No kidding."

"What did you say you did?"

"Production operator."

Like Chuck Cass. In the trade this was what was known as a lead.

"Production operator," Kate said with well-feigned interest. "Did you have to go to school for that?"

"No, but I did. I got my degree in mechanical engineering from the University of Alaska in Fairbanks in 1981."

For a split second Kate debated what to say next, and decided on the truth as being easier and inevitable. The brochure on the plane had made mention of how RPetco made a point of local hire to stay on the good side of Alaskan legislators, and it was even odds she'd be running into people she knew all over the Slope. "Me, too," she said. "I mean I went to UAF, too. Class of '83."

"What in?"

"Sociology," Kate lied.

"Another useless liberal arts degree that'll never get you a job. Well, well. A sister Nanook. Welcome to the asshole of the world."

"Thanks. I think." And a mouth like Madonna, too.

The bus left the Backbone to lurch around a corner onto an access road that led through a chain-link fence. The fence surrounded a mammoth collection of two-story prefabricated metal buildings set twelve feet above the gravel pad on steel pilings, all connected with arctic walkways suspended above the ground. A sign next to the double door read:

Production Center Three

Royal Petroleum Company

Prudhoe Bay, Alaska

Dale and half a dozen others got up and collected their gear. "This is where I get off. Meet you for dinner?"

A native guide, just what she needed. "Okay."

The bus doors closed behind Dale and the bus lurched back onto the gravel road. Another ten minutes and the driver drew up to the Base Camp's front door with an air of visible relief.

The Base Camp was similar in construction to the production center; boxy three-story buildings elevated on twelve-foot pilings, connected by elevated, enclosed walkways. Unlike the production center, these modules were sheathed in a copper-colored metal that gave off a warm glow in the half-light.

A security guard seated behind a glass partition examined her badge and waved her inside after the rest of the busload had passed through. Up the stairs from security was a U-shaped counter beneath a sign that said simply front DESK. Behind the counter Kate saw the brunette from the bus through an office window. She was speaking in animated fashion to a man seated behind a desk who replied in monosyllables while staring fixedly at the brunette's chest.

Following the instructions of the front desk clerk, Kate fumbled her way down a hallway, found a corridor that led onto another corridor that hung an immediate right into a third corridor she thought was a dead end but in which, after some investigation, she discovered a door into a stairwell. None of the corridors had flat walls or ceilings; all the doors were set back at various distances from the hallway; the ceiling went up and down and back up again every few feet; and all surfaces were covered in bright primary colors: blue, red, yellow, green, orange. Kate felt like a rat in a Technicolor maze, and was thankful for the neutral, napless carpeting beneath her feet. She descended the stairs, opened the door at the bottom and discovered yet another corridor with offices opening off either side and a hum of industry throughout. She paused in the doorway as a female voice full of grit and gravel announced over the loudspeaker, "Attention, sports fans, three days to race day, three days to race day and counting, all racers must be registered by seven P.M. this evening, seven P.M. this evening, or they will be disqualified from participating. Odds on Xaviera have gone up to five-to-one. Thank you, and start your engines."

Kate found the door marked transportation supervisor and went in.

The man behind the desk waved her inside and went on talking on the phone. "Four sets of studded tires is the best I can do I'm afraid."

He listened. "Make it three cases of hard hats and you have a deal no three very well I'll send Dave over with the tires have the hats ready."

He laughed. "Yes I am and so are you I won't call the unit owners if you won't." He hung up and looked across at Kate. "I imagine you would be Katherine Shugak?" "Kate," she said. "You're English."

"British actually." He rose to his feet and offered her two fingers.

"Harris Perry Ms. Shugak I'm your new supervisor welcome to Prudhoe Bay."

Perry didn't look English or British or even European for that matter; he looked as if manana should be his middle name. His face was dark, his features swarthy and he bore a distinct resemblance to a Mexican ban dido Kate had seen once in a Clint Eastwood movie on Bobby's VCR, a resemblance enhanced by the full black mustache that curved in an upside-down U over his mouth. His teeth gleamed beneath it in a practiced smile. "Flight up satisfactory I hope?"

"Sure. Wasn't it supposed to be?"

He shrugged with a nonchalance Kate found peculiar in someone occupying the hot seat behind a door marked transportation. "You never can tell did you receive your room assignment?"

Mutely, she held up a key dangling from a green plastic tag.

"What's the number 786 let's see now OCX outside room good you'll get some sleep and Ralph is your alternate so you might even get some closet space." He chuckled. She didn't know what he was talking about and she was having a hard time keeping up with his rapid speech anyway so she remained silent. "You can pick up your baggage down by Security this evening and get someone to show you your room." He picked up the phone and punched in a number. "Toni I've got a live one for you new hire Katherine Shugak I'll bring her right up." He hung up. "Please follow me."

He came out from behind the desk, giving Kate time enough to notice that his jeans were ironed, a knife-edge crease running down the front of each leg. In keeping with what appeared to be the North Slope uniform he also wore a Pendleton shirt in a subdued red and black check. It fit so well she suspected he'd had it tailored. She followed him back out into the corridor and down more hallways, through a dimly lit garage filled with trucks covered with mud beneath which the yellow and green RPetco colors were barely visible, and suddenly found herself passing rapidly in front of the front desk with no very clear recollection of how she'd got there.

Perry skidded to a halt in front of an open door and Kate almost trod on his heels. "This is it let me know if you have any problems." He turned on his heel and marched off briskly.

Resisting an impulse to toss a salute at his retreating back, Kate poked a cautious nose in the open door. Cramped and windowless, the office was barely large enough to hold a desk, two chairs, a bookcase and a credenza. It was further cramped by the piggyback plant hanging like a parasol from one corner of the ceiling, the fig tree flourishing from another and the philodendron growing down the side of the bookcase on it way out the door. The bookcase was jammed with back issues of Petroleum Intelligence Weekly and Business Week and Forbes and plastic cups filled with water and green cuttings. Very little wall showed through the eight-by-ten black-and-white glossies of geese and polar bears and great snowy owls tacked floor to ceiling.

On one corner of the desktop sat two wire baskets. One was labeled way OUT. The other was labeled deeper IN.

Kate was staring at those signs with a growing sense of apprehension when the slender brunette from the bus, now seated behind the desk, became aware of Kate's presence. She bounced immediately to her feet and grabbed Kate's hand to sling her into a chair. The brunette beamed at her and said, "You must be new hire Katherine Shugak guess what!"

Kate paused halfway out of her new parka. "What? And it's Kate."

"I just bought a partnership in a pistachio farm!"

There followed a short silence. "You bought a what in a what?"

"Do you know what pistachios cost per pound think of the money I'm going to make and if we lose I can write it off you need an accountant you will don't worry I've got a great one you just say the word." The phone rang and the brunette grabbed it and spoke without pause. "What no I can't no not now I've got someone in my office call me tonight goodbye."

She hung up the phone and drew breath, only to be interrupted when a man built like a pit bull barged into the office, banging the door off the bookcase with a resounding crash that reverberated up through the soles of Kate's boots. The philodendron cowered. Short and squat with shoulders so muscular that his arms bowed out from his torso, he had iron-gray hair and a personality to match. "What the fuck are you doing about the seventeenth of April?"

Evidently everyone on the Slope spoke without punctuation. "Cale Yarborough Katherine Prudhoe Bay field manager just call him God," the brunette said. "This is Katherine Shugak roustabout new hire what about April I don't go on vacation until May."

"What's your vacation got to do with anything the Federal Energy Regulatory Committee and the Exxon president and CEO are coming up on the seventeenth both groups on the same day who did this Francine?"

The brunette stifled herself and gave a one-word answer. "Probably."

"Call that bitch and tell her to fix it I don't care how she does it just tell her to do it or I'll have her ass nice to meet you too Shugak." The door slammed behind him.

Kate waited until the footsteps in the hall died away before inquiring timidly, "Urn, exactly who are you?"

The brunette looked absolutely astounded. "Didn't I introduce myself oh for dumb oh my gawd Katherine I'm so sorry I'm Toni Hartzler public relations representative for RPetco North Slope assigned B Shift like you."

She had to pause for breath again and Kate seized the opportunity. "Why am I here? And it's Kate."

Toni had delicate features, pale, perfect skin, dreamy brown eyes and a raucous, braying laugh that would have sounded more likely coming from a donkey. Before she could speak the phone rang. "Hello yes no not now call me tonight we'll set something up then."

She hung up and the door banged open again and again bounced off the bookcase. This time it was a short blond man with sleeked-back hair, dressed in the same uniform as the security guard at the Base Camp's main entrance. "Where is he I know he's in here Hartzler your fucking alternate kidnapped him where is he?"

"Katherine Shugak meet Glen Lefevre our local Hitler and with littler charm I don't have the faintest idea of what in the world you're talking about Glen," Toni said mildly. "Bob's at lunch or on his way out to the airport I don't know which he had a tour this morning."

"Don't give me that shit!" the guard yelled, his red face going redder.

"I saw Kinderknecht spying last night when Deputy Dawg was doing his practice laps where is he?"

The grit and gravel female voice came over the loudspeaker.

"Attention, sports fans, attention. The Security Department has announced an all-points-bulletin for Deputy Dawg, kidnapped from Security this morning sometime between nine and ten A.M. Victim description as follows: height four inches, length six and a half inches, weight ten and a half ounces, complexion green with brown spots.

Has been known to bite. Anyone with any information leading to the rescue of Deputy Dawg and the apprehension of the turtle nappers dial

4911. There is a reward on offer of one Tundra Traveler's Certificate, guaranteed point-free with no supervisor advisory call. Glen Lefevre, call your office immediately."

The guard snatched up the phone and dialed an extension. "What WHAT I'll be right there!" He threw down the phone and shook a fist in Toni's face. "I know Kinderknecht had a hand in this Hartzler this ain't the end of this!"

The door slammed shut behind him, only to slam open again immediately.