Dominant Species Volume Three -- Acquired Traits (11 page)

The
Council was the source of tyrannical rule; rules and instructions that had to
be obeyed as if handed down by God personally. Here stood a friendly and
diminutive fellow who wielded the power of the council by proxy and about to
aim that power right at the domain of him and Lavachek. Under that neat and
clean exterior was the heart and soul of the Council. He was the tyrant’s
unsoiled, innocent-looking nephew, who could sling the Council’s violent power
like a mad child if need be. Habershaw's previous resentment of having to
answer to Patel was now minor compared to the foundation of fear that his
umbrage rested on.

The next
thing Habershaw noticed about him were his tiny hands. They were so small and
feminine Habershaw wondered if he weren't actually a female in disguise. When
he held out his hand for Habershaw to shake, the touch was moist and soft like
a little girl’s. His voice possessed a hint of an Indian accent. It struck
Habershaw as ironic that such a light touch had so much weight behind it.

After
shaking Patel’s hand, Lavachek glanced at Habershaw with a troubled look. He’d
felt it, too. There was a sense of androgynous softness about the man that had
no roots in the domain of male or female, but there was intense power in him.
To Habershaw and Lavachek, two men accustomed to obeying orders by alpha males
a notch or two higher on the leadership scale than they themselves, the man
seemed to possess an almost sycophantic malleability that just didn’t seem
right for the position of Chief Engineer. None of that mattered. His high
position with the Council had them spooked into submission without the manly
leadership characteristics they were so accustomed to.

“Well,
thank you for coming,” Patel said with a white smile. “We have an interesting project
ahead of us, don’t you think?”

“Could
be,” Habershaw said cautiously.

“Let me
show you the plans I have made. These are from the direct orders of Jacob
himself, so there is no question whatsoever about the importance of the
project.”

He called
up a topographic map on the large screen that detailed the terrain between the
settlement and the ocean some two hundred kilometers to the west.

“Well,
this speaks for itself, if you ask me,” Patel said. “This is where we are,” he
pointed, “and this is where we need doo go.”
 
He traced the route with a tiny finger. The course wound around the
rolling terrain like a long, thin snake. Lavachek and Habershaw exchanged
looks.

“Well,
that’s a fairly long way to get there,” Habershaw said nodding his head. He
didn’t want to offend the little guy. It could get him killed.

“Hmm,”
Lavachek agreed.

The
problem was that Patel had no idea what the Manitowoc was capable of. He had
designed a road around little rolling hills and hummocks as if the Manitowoc
was a toy, not the most powerful bulldozer ever built by humankind. Habershaw
knew that the terrain between the settlement and the ocean had few natural
obstacles that the dozer couldn’t just flatten. Going around them was plainly a
waste of time. Patel’s winding, serpentine route was probably ten times as long
as it had to be.

“Do you
think there is a shorter route, then?” Patel asked in earnest. “I drew this up
in some haste.”

Lavachek
and Habershaw exchanged brief worried looks. “No. That one will do just fine I
think, don’t you, Greg? We might have to modify it a little when we get to this
elevation here,” he pointed, “but other than that, it looks real good to
me.”
 

“Yeah,
and maybe a little change here, too,” Lavachek pointed, “But I think we can
work with that.”

“Perfect,”
Habershaw said, crossing his legs comfortably.

 
“When do you want to get started then?”

 
“Jacob wants the road built as very soon as
possible,” Patel smiled. “Need I say more than that then?”

Habershaw
and Lavachek shook their heads wide and slow and chuckled. “No, sir. No sir,”
Habershaw said. “We can start as soon as you send me the file, Mr. Patel. We’ll
get right on it. You’ll have your road in a month, maybe just a little more.
Easy.”

Patel’s
face dropped. “I’m afraid that’s far too long,” he said. “Jacob, you see, wants
that road in place in dooo weeks.”

Habershaw
scratched the side of his nose and looked at Lavachek.
 
A troubled, panicky look, unseen by Patel,
passed between them.
  
If they followed
the route Patel had outlined, they’d never get it done in two weeks. The rig
just couldn’t move that fast.
 
This
situation could get dicey real fast.

Habershaw
knitted his brow and nodded his head as if thinking. What he was really doing
was nodding and sweating, buying time.

“Uh,"
he said.

“Hmm,"
Lavachek joined in the thinking session.

“Well.”

“Yeah.”

“Look,”
Habershaw asserted himself with intense professionalism and confidence. “Maybe
we could take a few liberties here and there with your route—if it’s okay, that
is—not too many, you understand, but I think that might help some, don’t you
Greg?”

“Yep,”
Lavachek chimed in.

“As long
as the road gets done in doo weeks, I think we can all relax,” Patel smiled.

“Great.
Not a problem, then,” Habershaw said, also smiling.

“Yep,”
Lavachek said.

They
shook his small hand again with a promise to begin preparations that morning.
With an innocent and white smile, Patel sent them on their way.

* * *

 
“What an asshole,” Lavachek said once they got
outside. “Let’s just cut the road straight in, he’ll never know the difference.
We’ll put some curves in it here and there. He won’t even give a shit.”

“Goddamn
. . .” Habershaw laughed. “Chief engineer . . . they sure scraped the bottom of
the barrel for that little bastard.”

“You got
that right.”

“Had
hands like a little bitch.”

“Yep.”

“Look, if
we wind up on the man’s bad side, and he’s so ignorant that would be too damned
easy, we could wind up in a real mess with the council. You get that, right?”
Habershaw said, his eyes locked on Lavachek’s.

“I’m
right there with you, boss,” Lavachek nodded. “I’ve seen it happen. Some guy
with connections starts out okay. But they’re only okay until they’re not.
 
And you never fuckin’ know.”

“That’s
right,” Habershaw frowned. “You never know. Especially with connected guys that
don’t know what the fuck they’re doing.”

“Yep,”
Lavachek nodded.

* * *

They went
right to the rig and Lavachek downloaded the file with Patel’s snaky, bullshit
road. They wouldn’t use it much, but they needed to make sure Patel knew they
had it anyway. They spent the rest of the morning moving the machine to Patel’s
starting point and doing some routine maintenance on the rig that was long
overdue.

They were
just starting lunch, sitting in their favorite spot on a high catwalk when a
shiny new shuttle purred in and landed next to the rig. Pen Patel popped out of
the shuttle’s side door dressed for a safari, complete with a little sun hat.

“Hello up
there!” he said.

“How are
we doing today?”

“You just
saw us, you asshole,” Lavachek whispered.

“Fine,
Mr. Patel!” Habershaw yelled down.

“Just
having some lunch. Everything’s under control!”

“May I
come up and join you then! I too have a lunch!”

“Be glad
to have you!” Habershaw hollered.

“Can you
find your way up?”

Patel
looked the rig over, back and forth, and then took a step this way and that,
trying to find the way up.

“Take the
lift to the rear, sir!” Habershaw yelled and pointed. “It’s very easy to
operate!”

“Oh, yes!
I see it now. Up I come!”

Lavachek
groaned. “We’re his pet project aren’t we? That’s it, right?”

“Probably
his only project,” Habershaw said. “Look, take it easy and be nice. Don’t fuck
around. Just relax.”

“He’s
gonna wanna ride the rig all the way to the ocean,” Lavachek moaned. “Just wait
and see. Every day he’s gonna be asking us shit and telling us shit. He could
have us killed and we wouldn’t even know what we did wrong.”

“I know,
Greg. Goddamn it, just relax. I’ll get rid of him.”

It was
taking Patel far too long to make it up. After a while, Habershaw and Lavachek
looked at each other with grins and chewed and nodded, knowing full well the
little bastard was lost in the rig somewhere.

“He’s
lost,” Habershaw said.

Lavachek
sighed, groaned to his feet and went to look for him. He’d moved just a few
steps when they heard Patel’s distant little voice.

“Hello!”
it said. “I’m having some trouble finding you then!”

“Stay
where you are, Mr. Patel!” Lavachek bellowed back. “I’ll be right there!”

“I won’t
move until I see the whites of your eyes!” the little voice came back
cheerfully.

Habershaw
could see the disgust on Lavachek’s face through the back of his head.

A few
minutes later, Lavachek strode slowly back along the catwalk with Patel in tow.
Patel was fanning his face with his hat.

“Well, I
made it after all then,” he said with his round smile. “This machine is much
larger than I had imagined. It is quite remarkable.”

“Well,”
Habershaw said to him, “have a seat.
 
Uh,
we don’t have chairs here, but the view’s pretty good. I’ve got a cushion here
if you want . . .”

“Oh, but
no. Thank you so much. I’m content to sit just as you do. My bottom is just as
tough as yours, I assure you,” he added happily and sat down on the catwalk.
“There. All safe and sound from the jungle’s ugly bugs. I must say I don’t like
the bugs here at all. Is this why you sit up here, away from the bugs? If so,
it would seem a good idea.”

Lavachek
nodded, then sneaked a look at Habershaw.

“My word,
the view is spectacular, isn’t it?” Patel observed, opening his neat little
lunch box.

“Yep,”
Lavachek said, almost politely. “Quite a view.”

Habershaw
just nodded in agreement. He was thinking furiously. His food suddenly tasted
flat, and he was chewing and chewing, but not swallowing. He had to think of
some way to get him off the rig—permanently. Lavachek was right. The little guy
had found a home. Before they knew it, he’d have his little girl’s hands into
everything.

He’d seen
it before, friends or partners punished, penalized for not understanding or
following an absurd direction or instruction, like a dog kicked for not
understanding a string of English commands. The stupider the command, the
greater the confusion would be. There would be a misunderstanding, an error
would be made, or someone would do something wrong, or someone would get hurt
and a report made. Someone would have to be blamed, and it was never the one in
power. Something, something would happen.
 
Mistakes and errors could be dodged under the right circumstances, but
not if the powerful were right there, and a witness to it. There would be no
reprieve, no excuses, no forgiveness, and the ones in power would chop off your
head to save themselves. Being in close proximity to Patel for doo weeks was a
big, big mistake, especially now when the rule of law rested with only a few
very powerful people.

To
Habershaw’s experienced eye, this connected, powerful man’s gentle demeanor and
delicate stature belied the ruthlessness under the clean cotton. Put in place
by some likely nepotistic action, he was as dangerous as a lunatic to
Habershaw—and as unpredictable. He just hadn’t shown that side yet.

They
watched him lay his lunch out neatly, lining everything up. Lavachek couldn’t
believe his eyes.