Arctic Fire (21 page)

She studied him for an instant then burst out in
laughter. “You are an interesting man, Gabriel Pike.”

“Thank you.” He said, tilting his head to one
side. “This is a fine Bordeaux, would you like some?” He asked as
he took the bottle of wine. He popped the cork, let the bottle
breath, and then poured her a glass. He set the wine bottle down
then poured his iced tea into the other wineglass. “A toast,” he
said as he raised his glass.”

“And to what are we drinking?”

“To the power of the internet. To Haydn,
wardrobe malfunctions and crackling fires,” he said looking at the
computer screen. “And to new friendships.” He finished, smiling
back at her. Their glasses clanged, the music played, the fire
crackled as they sipped their drinks and stared into each other’s
eyes. Magic was floating about the room…right until the phone rang
and brought it down in flames.

“Excuse me please.” Pike apologized as he got up
to answer the phone. “Hello,” he said, trying his best to hide the
frustration in his voice.

“Well, hello to you too.”

“K.D.!” Pike could do nothing to cover the
surprise in his voice. He was happy to hear from her yet he also
felt embarrassed.

“You don’t seem too happy to hear from me. Am I
interrupting anything?”

“Well, yes, I mean no. I was just having
dinner…with a friend.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll call back later. Talk to you
soon.”

“Okay, thanks, bye.” He stood there for a
second, not quite knowing what to think. He was glad to hear from
her yet he felt guilty because he had another woman in his room,
yet he knew he shouldn’t feel that way because there was nothing
between them, or him and Tabatha. And yet he was a little
disappointed at the same time because of the way she seemed to take
it all in stride, considering it no big deal.

He turned back around to find Tabatha looking at
him with a sly look on her face. “That was K.D…Crooks, just a
co-worker, from the office, back home in Seattle.”

“I see,” was her simple reply.

Pike sat back down and began eating again. He
had taken two bites of his steak when he realized that Tabatha was
just looking at him, reading him like book. “May I ask you a
question Gabe?”

“Sure,” he answered almost hesitantly.

“Why do you look guilty of committing some great
crime against humanity?”

“I do?”

“Yes, you do. Let me ask you another question.
Is she your girlfriend?

“No.”

“Does she think she is?”

“No.”

“Do
you
think she is?”

“No.”

“Have you slept with her?”

“NO!”

“Do you feel guilty sitting here with me?”

Pike paused for a moment. “After the phone call…
a little I guess.”

“Why?”

Pike shook his head and threw his hands up in
the air. “That’s just it, I don’t know why. K.D. and I don’t have a
past and you and I just met. So I have no reason whatsoever to feel
guilty about anything.”

“And yet you do.”

“Yeah,” he replied, letting out a long sigh.

Tabatha laughed, but it wasn’t a mocking laugh.
“Like I said, Gabriel Pike, you are an interesting man.”

Chapter Twenty T
hree

“Thanks for letting me take a look around
Captain.”

“My Pleasure, Mr. Pike,” replied Captain Daniel
Gregory. Gregory was a fit man in his mid-fifties with salt and
pepper hair and a neatly trimmed matching beard. He projected an
air of confidence and experience that immediately set Pike’s mind
at ease.

Pike was standing on the Command Bridge of the
iceberg, looking out the huge glass windows affording a beautiful
view of the ocean; only today, the view was not so magnificent. The
sky was a mass of solid, dull gray clouds. The sea was running in
long, fifteen-foot rolling swells, topped with white peaks, before
a strong, unrelenting wind.

He had enjoyed his unexpected dinner with
Tabatha last night but the evening was cut short because the
network executives back in New York paged her and wanted to go over
some upcoming events. After their goodnights and the hard day he’d
had, bed was the most appealing option so he would have a fresh
start on the new day.

Three hundred yards in front of them, he could
see the lead tug straining on her towline as she struggled with her
monstrous load in the rough seas. On the bridge, he could hardly
feel the iceberg slowly rise and fall but looking at the tug was a
different story. He watched as another tug off to their left would
climb up the front of one wave then slide down the backside, her
bow sending out huge sheets of spray as she landed in the bottom of
the trough and then the whole process would start all over
again.

He was mesmerized as he watched the struggle
between man and nature when he suddenly jumped back, startled as a
sheet of water shot up over the front of the iceberg and smashed
against the windows. Embarrassed, Pike quickly looked around to see
if he was the only one caught off guard. He was, but no one said
anything.

“How high up are we Captain?” Pike asked.

“We have a free board of nearly thirty feet in
calm seas, less when it’s stormy.” He replied with a smile.

“So I see.”

“Not to worry Mr. Pike, we’re perfectly safe up
here.”

“He looked back at the tug just as it plunged
deep into another wave. “I’m not so much worried about us as I am
about them,” he said pointing to the tugs, “they seem so
small.”

“The sea can be cruel and unforgiving, but I
wouldn’t worry too much about them either though. Those are the
newest Crowley boats out there, built especially to handle weather
like this. They’re not so tiny either. Each is 146 feet long and 44
feet wide, plus they have over 10,000 horsepower to help them
battle the waves. Now compare that to the Mayflower that crossed
the Atlantic with the pilgrims on board, she was just 90 feet long
with a 25 foot beam and she only had sails for power, so I think
they can handle themselves. That’s the
Rachel B.
out there
in front, skippered by Captain Pat Bair, one of the best.” Gregory
said, pointing out the window. “Our escort to port is the
Cheri
B.
and we have a trailer at the stern, the
Alyssa B
.
They may get tossed around a bit by this weather, but they’ll be
fine.”

Not sure if it was the weather or just the power
of suggestion, but Pike was feeling slightly woozy so he decided
he’d seen of enough of the outside view and thought it best to
concentrate on the inside. Other than the helm and a radarscope, he
didn’t recognize much of anything else that would tell him he was
on the bridge of a ship. There were literally dozens of computer
screens, consoles and workstations whose purpose he couldn’t even
begin to guess. The whole room looked more like mission control for
a space shuttle launch than the bridge of a ship.

“Captain,” Pike said, being careful to keep his
eyes from wandering to the tossing waves, “as you know, I’ve been
tasked with doing the final safety inspection before entering New
York harbor. From a maritime point of view, how does this thing
stack up against, say a super tanker of similar size?”

“We are much the same as any large ship. Even
without the tug we can move and steer ourselves with the four ships
underneath us, though it wouldn’t be pretty or fast.” He walked
over to a large computer screen that showed a miniature top view of
the iceberg. “Now this is something that other ships don’t have.”
He tapped a command and over a dozen readouts popped up all over
the iceberg.

“What are those?” Pike asked.

“Stress points. Notice how the numbers are all
in green and fluctuate as the ship rolls? This gives us a good
indication of how well she’s handling the seas and we can make
course adjustments as needed.”

“I noticed that up here,” he said, pointing to
the screen, “at the support towers for the tow cable, some of the
indicators flashed amber every once in a while.”

The Captain nodded. “Yes. We measure four
different levels of stress, green, amber, yellow and red. As you
have guessed, green means everything is within normal parameters.
Amber indicates stress and fatigue levels rising in certain areas
but well within safety limits. Yellow indicates a potential
problem. If the sensor stays yellow, then an appropriate action
plan needs to be formulated. If a sensor flashes red occasionally,
it is time for concern but don’t head for the lifeboats yet. If it
stays red, then structural failure is imminent and action must be
taken immediately. In this case, I would expect to see a few amber
lights and maybe an occasional flashing yellow, all depending on
the severity of the weather. Not to worry Mr. Pike, everything is
under control.”

Just then another wall of water shot up in front
of the window accompanied by a loud whack as the wave smacked
against the bow of the ice berg. Pike jumped again but not nearly
as much as at the first wave. He quickly glanced around the room
and thought he caught a couple of raised eyebrows from the
crew.

“What are these blue areas?” Pike was pointing
at four small blues squares at each of the corners of the
iceberg.

“Those are the anchors.”

“Anchors? I don’t remember seeing any anchors
when we flew in?”

The captain smiled. “That’s the whole point, it
was designed that way. Mr. Cain didn’t want such necessary evils as
anchors distracting from the beauty of the iceberg so they’re
hidden. Each anchor room is buried five feet under the main deck
and is encased by a one-foot thick wall of ice at the entrance.
When the anchor is released, it will easily shatter the wall as it
plummets to the ocean. It should look quite spectacular when they
punch through the ice.

Captain?” A crewman at the far end of the bridge
called out. “Barometric pressure is at 28.91 and dropping fast and
winds steady at 55 knots with gusts up to 80.”

“Radar?”

“We have a cloud mass forming and coming down
out of the north sir.”

“A storm brewing Captain?” Pike asked.

“The Captain nodded, “Yes.” was his simple
answer. He gazed out the window, staring silently at the
wind-tossed sea, watching, waiting, and listening intently as if it
were speaking to him. The sea answered him in a not so still voice
as another wave smashed against the berg, sending up another wall
of water. This time Pike felt a small jerk as the towline between
the tug and the iceberg had gone slack then tightened with the push
of the wave. He looked down just in time to see nearly half the
sensors on the towing support structure flash with an amber
glow.

“Thompson,” the Captain said quietly, “get me
Mr. Cain on the phone please.”

Suddenly Pike felt his stomach twisting into a
knot, and it wasn’t from seasickness. The Captain turned to Pike,
seeing the concern on his face. “No need for worry, Mr. Pike. As a
precaution, I’m informing Mr. Cain that we’re setting a new course,
heading south to try to get us away from this storm. After all, it
wouldn’t do to have Mr. Cain’s guests getting seasick now would
it?”

“That certainly would be some mess to clean up,
huh?”

“Exactly.” The Captain smiled as he placed his
hand on Pike’s shoulder. “A favor if you would Mr. Pike.”

“Sure.”

“Most of the people on board have never been at
sea before, let alone in a storm. They tend to immediately think
the worst and visions of the
Poseidon Adventure
or the
Titanic
jump to the forefront of their minds. So if you
could mingle with the guests, telling them you’ve been on the
bridge and talked to me and reassure them that everything will be
all right, it will help calm their nerves greatly. They’ll believe
it coming from you because they know you and trust you. Get them to
the gaming tables so they’ll forget their seasickness and this
nasty weather.”

“Sure thing Captain, I’ll do my best.” As Pike
walked off the bridge, the captain turned to his radio operator.
“Thompson, get me Dean Miles on the horn please.”

“Sir?”

“That’s right David, I need you to re-check the
safety pins on all four anchor bridles.” Dean Miles said.

“But Mr. Miles, I set those pins myself, they’re
okay, beside I’m off in half an hour and it’ll take at least two to
check them.”

“I know David, but we’re in for some bad weather
and we need to make sure.”

“But sir...”

“David,” Miles said in a stern voice, losing
patience. “I need those pins checked now!”

David turned off his walkie-talkie and stormed
off down the passageway, his smoldering anger melting ice with each
step. “David do this, David do that, David we need this over here,
David we need that moved over there. You would think I’m the only
one on this whole stupid barge who could do anything. Bad weather,
huh! This thing is as big as an aircraft carrier and they’re afraid
of a few waves. Hello,” he said as he hit the wall with his hands.
“This thing is made of ice. Have you ever seen ice sink? Corporate
idiots. They’re sipping wine and eating HOT food while I’m down
here freezing my butt off so that someone
up there
could say
that
they
took care of it.”

David Towers continued muttering to himself as
he grabbed the rung of the first of three, two-story service
ladders he’d have to climb in order to check the safety pins. “You
should have stayed in school, but nooOOOooooo. At 20 years old, you
were too smart for school, you didn’t want to be tied down, you
wanted some adventure before you turned old and gray. You happy now
Einstein?” His question to himself bounced off empty walls as he
reached the top level. He paused for a moment, bending over as he
caught his breath. “The hours suck but at least the pays isn’t
bad,” he said, consoling himself.