When I hung up, I saw that I missed three calls, all of them from Senator McCucheon’s office. When it rang again, I answered just so I could tell the assistant to go screw himself. It turned out to be the senator himself. He was much more understanding on how to conduct business.
“It’s nice to finally talk with you, Governor Nagy. May I call you Chuck?” he asked pleasantly enough. The Washington two-step was about to begin.
“Sure, you can call me Chuck, but I need to know two things. What’s your first name and how did your assistant get so angry if you didn’t spin him up?” I didn’t like verbal dancing.
“Call me Tom. Your announcement caught us by surprise, that’s all. We have a great number of irons in the fire regarding Alaska and that would be a lot of work that we’ll have to undo if you remain on this path. I’d like you to reconsider,” he said smoothly.
“What I’m hearing, Tom, is that you haven’t done anything for us in years, but it would look bad for you now if you lost Alaska again? Does that about sum it up, Tom?” I countered.
He hesitated before answering. “I think we’re all a little excited and need to calm down and pace ourselves. We have a great deal to talk about. Is there any way you can get yourself to Washington D.C.?”
“Really? Here’s something I need you to do, Tom. Tell your fellows in the government that none of them are to call me and start swearing at me, because that’s not how we have a conversation. You made that happen so you could sound more reasonable. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving Alaska. First, there’s too much work to do here and second, I’d be arrested if I landed in the U.S. Understand that I don’t trust you. No one would take my calls over the past two years, and when they did, I was shunted from one lackey to the next. The people in the great nation of Alaska deserve better than that. We will find our own trade partners and we will prosper because of ourselves, not because the big man in D.C. is giving us another handout. That’s all you’ve done over the past decade, just enough to keep us begging for more, and over the past two years, we didn’t even get that. If the next call I receive isn’t from the President or the Secretary of State, then I’ll know that you are just a toad who wields no influence.” I pressed the red button, and he demonstrated some level of self-respect by not calling back.
I really despised lifelong politicians and bureaucrats. I figured that I was too honest to be successful over the long run. I figured that if I was able to get some infrastructure rebuilt, then that would be the win. I started to hand the phone back to Chris. He held up his hands.
“I think it’s your duty as my new Secretary of State,” I said, nodding. He shook his head and continued to hold his hands up.
“My wife would kill me!” he tried to dodge. “I’m not that guy.” He softened.
“I need help, Chris, and you are the smoothest of us all. Will you help me out?” He couldn’t turn down the sincerity of my request. I handed him the phone. “At least I don’t have a son trying to romance your daughter,” I said, trying to make light.
“I heard about that,” Chris laughed. I pointed at him, letting him know that I didn’t think it was that funny. “Relax, if anything she’ll have more chaperones than she can handle. We’ll all watch that one. Congratulations again, by the way, on Aeryn and Toby. The Community was really supportive…”
As the phone rang intermittently, we let it ring and we did what we liked to do – talk about our kids and their future. A new generation was beginning by those who had always been there. The children of the Denali survivors were getting older. They were a tight group as few of them found partners. I didn’t blame them or their continued animosity toward the Russians. Other Russian immigrants settled around the area, but the first group had never fully integrated, despite our best efforts, and when we moved out of the North Pole elementary school, they stayed. And the gulf between them and the Denali survivors was much more than the width of the destroyed city of Fairbanks.
“We’re going to need people who want to work the mine. Food and shelter for the winter plus pay. I hope we get a lot of takers. It’d be nice to keep all that money here in Alaska. If they import their own labor, we won’t see any of it,” I said, trying to convince myself that we’d get plenty of applicants.
“I’ll talk with Colleen. She sees more people than anyone else and can spread the word. When do you think they’ll need them?”
“Two months, or so,” I replied, more hopeful than I thought I should have been. “Could be six months or a year, too, although Sumitomo sounded like they wanted in and right now. They even signed a pretty lopsided agreement. I doubt they would have done that without some sense of urgency. They are trying to throw as much gold on the market as they can while prices are still high,” I speculated.
We parted ways, Chris keeping the phone. I told him that I would be spending most days in the community center where I had a constitution to write, a plan to build, and an engagement strategy to execute.
I heard Chris answering the phone as I was leaving. I appreciated him relieving me of that burden. I’d get a decent night’s sleep as long as there was no fighting in the house.
“Come on, Floyd, we have places to go and people to see!” I claimed, although the only place I was going was home and the only people I wanted to see were Terri, Aeryn, and Charles.
ONE MORE WINTER DOWN
With all things Alaska, we counted number of winters, not number of years. Sumitomo was unable to rally the support necessary to bring in cargo ships to rebuild the road, camp, and mine’s infrastructure. Especially when the snow started. The first fall was late September. We finally saw the sun again at the end of October after six feet of snow had inundated the interior. I called Frank and he said it wasn’t as bad in Valdez, but they were still buried. They shoveled snow daily to keep the roads to the wharf clear. The good thing about snow in Alaska is that it warmed up to snow and the port remained open.
Then temperatures plummeted in November and it remained that way until Christmas.
The ferry stopped coming the first week in October, which was tragic for those counting on the weekly resupply of diesel and gasoline. Frank was one of the few with enough of everything, so he helped organize a move into one of the warehouses where they consolidated firewood and supplies to stay as a group during periods of extreme cold. Between the mayor and Frank, they kept the people in Valdez alive. Frank gave up all of his supplies, even donating his gasoline to one of the trawlers so they could fish for the group.
They snagged a whale and, despite international conventions banning it, they killed it and used every bit of it to survive. From oil for lamps to meat, everyone in Valdez benefitted.
The calls slowed down as Sumitomo determined they would make a fresh start once the snows melted in the spring. Frank hunkered down, joining his fellows in Valdez for a long winter.
In New Fairbanks, we did much of the same, but when temperatures dipped, they went to minus forty, unlike on the coast where they only reached single digits below zero Fahrenheit. We had to make an extra effort with the sled dogs, using the garage to shelter them. It was a tight squeeze, but once all the dogs were in and the bedding put down, it was probably thirty degrees warmer. Still ten below, but well within what a well-cared-for sled dog could handle. They had huge fluffy tails that they tucked their nose and paws into to stay warm while they slept.
Floyd wasn’t amused at all by the deep cold. He’d never experienced anything like it in his short life. He was half-wolf and half-husky, but he spent enough time indoors that he wasn’t acclimated to it. He didn’t stay outside long. There was a short trail from the porch into the yard where he went and that was it. I knew we’d have to clean that up come spring. The snow would melt, but Floyd’s landmines wouldn’t.
Aeryn started to show, then got bigger and bigger. Colleen assured us there was only one in there, but I wasn’t convinced. We had no maternity
clothes, so she ended up wearing my flannel shirts and my long johns only partially pulled up. She refused to leave the house, except to use the outhouse. I wished Toby all the best as he bore the brunt of Aeryn’s discomfort. Welcome to manhood, I thought.
Terri watched me closely, understanding that I delighted in Toby’s anguish while at the same time trying to help him understand that his family was the single most important thing in his life. Terri would glare at me when I made finger-across-the-throat gestures at Toby. Eventually I had to stop that or I would have found myself sleeping in the living room.
Then January came and February. March saw a break in the weather and the first hint that spring was coming. Terri was in her greenhouse every day helping Alexey and Alyona as they set up the first plantings. Hundreds and hundreds of seeds were nurtured as the twelve hours of sunlight warmed the greenhouse. A supplemental fire helped keep it warm. Alexey and Alyona had set up cots in there to make sure that all the plants survived. They’d planted every seed they had stocked from the year before, hoping to double the yield, and Terry helped them to realize success.
When April arrived, Frank called to inform me that two massive container ships had arrived with one smaller vessel. From the smaller one, equipment and vehicles drove off, fully loaded fuel trucks, dozers, loaders, cranes, buses, semi tractors, and more. Everything they needed to get a crew to the mine and then support them. Once the vehicles were offloaded, the first container ship arrived. Using a bulldozer, the Japanese cleared a huge section of the port where they intended to store the Conex boxes as they awaited the next trip to the mine. We learned that we were limited in container storage space. They’d have to handle the boxes multiple times by moving them from the ship to the yard, then from the yard to a second storage field north of the city. Frank thought it was best to keep the loaded semis from driving through town.
One of the container ships contained nothing but food. A complete shipload with enough food to sustain all Alaskans for a whole year.
The entire time of the offload, Japanese managers efficiently ran everything. At one point when the dozer operator was directed to level some buildings, Frank stepped in and set them straight. They were there with his permission. He showed them a copy of the contract that gave Alaska the final say in all things related to Alaskan infrastructure used in support of mining activities. In the end, they bowed to him and acknowledged his authority. After that, the partnership was established and they moved forward quickly.
I wanted one full container of food delivered to the Lodge, but the Japanese said it didn’t work that way. One container might have nothing but flour while another might have only soy sauce. They would need to be broken down and repackaged. They were happy to get the warehouse we’d set aside for their use. It was much smaller than they wanted, but it was the biggest and the best in Valdez. They turned a crew over to work the containers. The Japanese managers also pushed to have the Alaskan workers at the mine waiting for them, which we agreed to, but only if Sumitomo provided the buses, which they readily dispatched.
We raced around to let people know that the deployment was ready to start. Nearly one hundred percent of the Russians volunteered, the older folks taking the opportunity to rejoin a regular workforce. The younger people had no intention of working in a clock-driven grind underground. Aeryn and Charles couldn’t fathom working underground. They’d been raised outdoors and were free spirits.
When the baby came in April, the first wave of our people were hopping on buses and leaving for Delta Junction. Colleen got to our home in time to deliver the baby in the living room. Floyd was howling and had to be kicked out of the house. Toby was a trooper and didn’t pass out, unlike Lucas all those years prior when Diane was born. Toby’s parents made it right when Colleen handed a little girl to Aeryn. My granddaughter, whom they named Madison Charles. I think they did that so I could remind Toby every day that he shot me.
Aeryn was glowing. Toby was holding one hand and Charles was helping her hold the baby. Terri considered it just another day. She’d had to deliver a number of babies in the Russian camp and a few more at their hideaway in Denali.
Having Terri around was comfortable. She was different than Madison. I didn’t love one more than the other, but I believed that a person’s capacity for love was unlimited. And that’s what we had in our home. It made us all feel alive.
Then the baby started to cry and my joy faded. It was like Bill all over again. I would help them look for their own place first thing in the morning, although I already had a few ideas. I’d been scoping places for them since Toby started drinking my coffee. He’d brought some, but he drank more than he supplied. I was danger low in my stocks.
And that’s where Terri balanced me. She couldn’t believe I would let something like coffee drive a wedge between me and my daughter’s family. I tried to explain that Aeryn was drinking my coffee, too. Terri refused to budge and told me if I persisted, the coffee would disappear and nobody would get any. There was more to her statement than just coffee.
I thought about giving it up, but discounted the idea as sheer lunacy; I hid my stash instead, ensuring that I’d get one cup a day for at least the next three months. That was my idea of compromise.
Charles was spending the long days with Lucas as he worked in the machine shop. During the deep freeze, we lost power, and when the cold broke, with a little assistance from pry bars and a great deal of elbow grease to break up the new ice, the river was able to run freely again, turning the wheel to generate limited power.
The most distraught of all the people were the aircrew that had crashed the last plane. They worked with Pavel in the fields until it got cold, then we put them up in a house with a wood burning stove. Everyone contributed from their stocks so they had food, but they were less than amused with an eight-month layover. We could have taken them to Valdez and probably should have, but I didn’t think about it at the time. They did, though and let me know in no uncertain terms. Jo and Emma and Becca and Darren went out of their way to make our refugees feel welcome.
When the spring came, they still wanted to go.
We consolidated the last of our gasoline and estimated that it would get us to Valdez, but not back, and determined that was good enough. Frank suggested there would be a refueling station in Delta Junction, but it only had diesel available. We’d have to make it to Valdez where unleaded gasoline was available. Chris and the Council approved the trip, understanding that everything we did was going to have a negative impact in one way or another. They also had their eyes on returning to life in a modern world. The risk was worth it.
So we packed up, Lucas driving, Terri and I in the front. Two aircrew sat in the back seat with Floyd, and two more in the bed of the truck. They said that any seat on the ride home was a good seat.
We determined to make it in one day, so we left at daybreak and drove quickly all the way to Delta Junction, tipping our heads as we passed the location where John died after having stolen Madison’s snow machine. That was the ultimate expression of karma. We would have had to do something about him anyway. What happened was the best for the Community, and we appreciated not having to be the arbiters of justice. At least not in his case.
Delta Junction was a beehive of activity. Loaders were still working to clear the roads around the destroyed Fort Greeley. I wondered if there were live missiles in their silos, deciding that there had to be. I added a few lines to my packed notebook in a section I had marked as extreme long-term plans.
We greeted the construction crew and they deferred to me, stopping all work while I was in the area. Frank must have put some level of fear into them. It also kept me from seeing if they were taking care to be safe and to respect the land. We wished them well and continued on.
We passed a caribou herd that ran a ways before stopping. There was some room in the back, but we didn’t have a way for our guests to sleep if we had to overnight. I too
k my hand off my trusty rifle and waved Lucas forward.
The road was in perfect condition thanks to not being driven on for fifteen years and to Sumitomo for clearing all remaining debris. On two of the bridges, steel and wood mats had been laid and “Slow” signs installed leading to them. This gave me confidence that they’d done a real bridge survey before crossing. Judging by the amount of equipment we’d seen in Delta Junction, the mining company had already stressed the bridges sufficiently to know if they’d fail or not.
We stopped at the Lodge for an early afternoon dinner. I was pleased to see a forty-foot Conex box in the parking area. The doors were open and Daniel and their little girl were digging inside. He stopped when we pulled in.
“How’s business?” I asked. He smiled broadly.
“It couldn’t be better, and I want to apologize for our first meeting.” He looked sincere. “If you hadn’t put confidence in us, we wouldn’t have this opportunity. It’s been like Christmas since this box arrived. Everything we need for the first couple weeks of operations. We’ve got power with a generator so people can take hot showers in the morning, including us,” he added.
“Welcome to the start of civilized society,” Terri said over my shoulder.
“There’s some canned meat in here, but everything else is processed. There’s a real nice herd of caribou out back if we only had a rifle,” he lamented. I thought about giving him mine, but it had been with me for a long time, and I couldn’t part with it. Lucas shrugged, went to the truck, and returned with his 300 Winchester magnum. He handed it to Daniel along with two boxes of ammunition.
“It’s loaded. Take care around the little one,” he cautioned, currently raising two children in a household where arms and ammunition were a necessity of life.
Fury (End Times Alaska Book 4) Page 15
