“You flat-lined, and they had to jump you back to life. Which means you probably shouldn’t be up now, either. Back to bed with you.” We ambled slowly while I leaned heavily on her. A corpsman joined her as we got close to sick bay, immediately launching into the “What the hell are you doing out of bed” routine. We apologized profusely as I climbed back into the rack. The corpsman carefully checked my bandages to make sure I wasn’t leaking anew. He gave me a new IV, then he wheeled in a second gurney to put next to my bed so Terri had a place to sleep.
“Navy guys like hot civilian women on their ships,” I mumbled. She shushed me, and soon I was out cold.
A PARTNERSHIP
I stayed aboard the Gridley for an entire week as they pumped fluids back into me. It seemed that the cold kept me from dying. The barnacles had ripped into me, and I lost too much blood. I stayed until I could stand without getting dizzy. The captain spent a great deal of time in my room as we talked about it all. I knew he’d have to send a report, and I wanted him to have facts.
“I don’t want to see anyone die. Have you met the people here? We’re right on the edge of starvation. We needed something to happen right now or people were going to start dying. They look to me, and I have to look back at them. These are such good people, who only want to live, raise their families, be happy. How about we let that ferry from Washington come back? If you need to stop it and check for contraband, I would be okay with you confiscating the booze and cigarettes. We don’t need that crap up here.”
The captain appreciated the opportunity to do something that would please his handlers. Contraband confiscation was always a winner. It would be hard to cover up their time in port, so he didn’t even try. He chalked it up to collecting intelligence. He took pictures everywhere to include as part of his report.
I liked it. Anyone looking at those would see a proud people who had almost nothing. The only thing that looked modern was what Sumitomo brought in for their gold mining operation. The only reason that the U.S. had kept them from returning was because they couldn’t send their federal safety inspectors and accountants and the long list of people to provide oversight of the mining operation. Without the hotels and restaurants, they refused to put their people into such a place. But without the mining operation running, there was no money or support to build the hotels or restaurants. The chicken or the egg? The U.S. government ignored the problem to let someone else fix it.
They didn’t like my solution, which appeared to be working at least on a limited scale. We had money in our accounts thanks to the fishing fleet and now we had the first delivery of food and supplies in nearly seven years. It was hit or miss before that with much of it delivered only to Fairbanks by air. But they were unable to help us fix the runway.
We were set up to fail from the word go. Captain Anderson saw that, too, but he couldn’t put that in his report. All he could do was talk about what he’d seen, how the Alaskans were pulling themselves up by their bootstraps.
Frank called the ferry company and told them that they could renew their service. They wanted independent confirmation, which the naval captain provided in an email from his official account stating unequivocally that there was no blockade.
The ferry operator said he’d see everyone in a week.
The USS Gridley agreed to stay the extra time. When Terri and I finally walked off the ship, we were greeted by six people on the pier who shouted heartily before getting back to work. Frank talked with the Japanese manager from Sumitomo who relayed to his people that shipments were to continue. The first few dozen ounces of gold had already been mined and would be sent on the next ship out of Valdez that was headed toward Japan.
The corporation was ecstatic at seeing results so quickly although they were looking for something on the order of two to four thousand ounces of gold a month. They’d need chemical leaching processes for that, which meant tanker loads of acids. I wanted to bury my head, cover my ears, and hope that there were no accidents. It was completely on me to oversee that, too. I’d do what I always did, talk to people smarter than me. And for this one, I needed the Russians. They were working the mine and had a vested interest in its security and safety.
That solved it in my mind. Next order of business was to find Lucas. He’d disappeared when we first entered Valdez, and after that, he showed up on occasion to check in with Frank, then he’d disappear again. I saw that he took my rifle and hoped that he had a successful hunt.
The trawlers were having some success, too. Fish and shrimp, especially, were running, so the Gridley bought an entire trawler-load of shrimp, which made for an exceptional payday for the trawler captain and his crew.
The potential of exporting their catches again was intoxicating. They tasted the modern world, and they liked it. Some of the younger people had no memory of the way it used to be, but the others made it sound like a world of mystery and magic.
Most of the Gridley’s crew wanted some sort of souvenir, which sent the Alaskans scrambling through the abandoned parts of Valdez searching for trinkets to sell.
By the sixth day, probably most of the cash that had been on board the ship was now off board, in the hands of the Alaskans. I wondered not if, but when cash money would return and be useful. Right now, bartering was the only trade the Alaskans knew, but with regular service to the lower forty-eight, they’d need money.
And we’d have to figure how to get the best deals in currency exchanges. The Japanese wanted to do all trades in Yen. Our bank was in Hong Kong. It caused me pain to think of finances in that way.
“Do you think there’s anyone we know who wants to be the government accountant?” I asked Terri. She didn’t know anyone off-hand. I used Frank’s phone to call Chris for a daily update and asked him if the Council would try to find somebody.
I liked delegating.
We watched as the ship undocked and headed to sea on its way to intercept the inbound ferry, where they’d board it and look for contraband shipped out of the United States. Since there was no agreement with Alaska, they couldn’t protect our interests, so they couldn’t accommodate my request to confiscate the alcohol and cigarettes. But they could encourage them not to bring those things next time.
We had more important needs, like medicines and things that weren’t for self-gratification today or an escape. Those were my thoughts, but reality dictated that people would find what gave them a release. Life was hard. I understood, but I didn’t have to like it. Maybe I wouldn’t push anything as long as there weren’t any problems.
“What’s going to happen when the Navy reports back?” I asked Frank.
“The captain will get in trouble, and then they’ll send somebody else.”
“Will we be able to win them over in the same way, kill them with kindness?” I offered.
“It’s the only weapon we have. They could park the ship right there and bottle in the fishing fleet. We’d be done. Sumitomo wouldn’t be able to land and we’d all sit here and look at each other while nothing moved,” Frank wondered.
“Just like it was a year ago. Do you think the Japanese might wield any influence?”
Frank shrugged. I used his phone to call the Minister from METI. His secretary answered and patched me through, where I updated the minister on the recent visit, but expected for continued safe passage, the Japanese government might have to send a letter of support to the U.S. Embassy. He told me that he would have a letter sent within the hour.
That was what leverage looked like. His classmate from Sumitomo would be disappointed if they brought a ship of supplies across the Pacific and it couldn’t make landfall. None of us wanted to see that.
We waited until the ferry arrived so we could talk with the captain. He seemed flustered, as that was the first time he’d ever been boarded. The naval crew didn’t confiscate anything and cleared him to continue. They also made him feel bad about the booze and cigarettes. He committed
to cut down on those items, but when people started waving greenbacks at him from the pier, his eyes registered dollar signs.
Marcia helped organize the offload and the inevitable fortune-seeking newcomers who would be rudely awoken and probably on next week’s ferry heading home. Some would stay while others would leave. It was usually a net zero, but with the soon-to-be regular shipments from Sumitomo, there was more to look forward to.
The aircrew found their way out on that ferry, their departure bittersweet as they’d made great friends in Alaska. They all swore to return.
We left them to it and once in our new truck, courtesy of the gold miners, we headed out of Valdez. Lucas was in the back with Floyd. He was trying to keep a secret, but was being bad about it. When we reached his truck, we discovered that he’d fixed it. The only reason he didn’t bring it back was he didn’t want to leave the new truck out here. So we topped off the tanks and he drove the old beater, while we rode in comfort. Terri pulled out my freshly charged cell phone and we spun up tunes on the truck’s sound system. She liked the same music that I did.
We had four barrels of gasoline in the bed of the new truck and that would be a godsend for New Fairbanks. A whole new world of possibilities had opened up.
If only the Navy would leave us alone. I tipped my hat to the captain of the USS Gridley and hoped that Frank was wrong about the next steps.
POGO MINE
We made great time on our return trip. The road was wide open and in good shape. Our stop at the Lodge was brief because one busload of workers was on their way from the port of Valdez and stopped for lunch ahead of us, and Daniel and Evelyn were swamped.
The Japanese maintained a small contingency staff that they shuttled back and forth as needed and they always stopped at the Lodge for a bit of rustic Alaska.
I wanted to visit the mine, but Lucas wanted to get home, so he pressed ahead on his own. If he had problems with his truck, we’d drive by in just a few hours. He bristled at the notion. I told him to keep an eye on my son, make sure there was no hanky panky going on.
As the miners finished their lunch, they piled back on the bus and we followed them the rest of the way. I’d never been there so they made it easy for my first time. The dirt road to the mine was muddy in spots, but that didn’t hold us up. We plowed straight through and continued to the mining camp, above-ground facilities, and underground access.
I only wanted to look around, despite my hosts’ offer to take me into the mine. I politely declined, using the excuse that I did not want to interfere with their important operations. I think this was the answer the manager was looking for as he positively beamed after that. We looked at where the miners lived and I was satisfied. It was a modernized remote mining camp, similar to what was used in the oil fields around Prudhoe Bay.
They had temporary quarters with full facilities, including a large kitchen and dining area. Even with all the food getting trucked in, their position was that a well-fed miner was a productive miner. The Japanese chef was ecstatic for us to see his facilities, but he excused himself as he was preparing for dinner. They brought plates to us before the miners arrived. I wanted to talk with the Alaskans and see how they were faring. The Russian contingent was obvious. They entered together and sat together looking miserable. I casually walked up to them. They all recognized me, I’d spent a lot of time trying to make them feel welcome, even when they distanced themselves by living in North Pole.
Before I could get the first word out, they started complaining. It was like an avalanche. Never any borscht, the rooms were too hot, too cold, the mines were dark, the equipment was loud, and that was just the start of it.
I started laughing. You could take the Russian out of Russia, but they’d always be Russian. I loved them for it. They were the hardest working bunch of people I knew and just like Marines, they weren’t happy unless they were complaining. At this rate, they had to be the happiest group of people on the planet.
“Mosquitoes?” I asked. They shook their heads.
“Mine is free of mosquitoes. I think they don’t like darkness,” Yuri said. As one of the original settlers ten years ago, he’d become their spokesman. He also owed his life to the good people in the Community. I think Darren was the one who’d carried him from their smoke-filled hangar on that day long ago.
I held up my drink. “Here’s to a mosquito-free work environment!” They slowly agreed and took up the toast. Then I had to get on my soap box.
“We just came from Valdez and you know what we saw? People doing better today than they were yesterday. Our first official visitors, the U.S. Navy, made a port call, visited with us and spent a lot of money buying fish, shrimp, trinkets. Sumitomo is just the first to bring in jobs and opportunity. There will be more, have no doubt. And none of it would have been possible without you good people stepping up, taking time away from your home and families to come here and work. By doing this, you’ve helped all Alaskans. Just like they are here for us, you are here for them. Jobs. Good jobs in hard conditions and there’s no one better at that than you. You demonstrate time and again that you are some of the best Alaskans around. You carry your own weight and now you’re carrying a little extra for the rest of us. I want to thank each and every one of you.” I worked my way around the table, shaking hands and slapping backs. Floyd stayed by me and was petted constantly as he passed them. He enjoyed that part.
Terri stayed back. She’d had too many confrontations when the Russians originally moved into the school. She didn’t have any hard feelings, but they did. They were less forthcoming when she was around. She accepted that and left them alone. The Denali survivors were scarred by their experiences with their Russian military, in most cases irreparably.
When I finished, I waved to them as Terri and I took our dishes to the scullery. I gave my compliments to the chef and we left, straight to the truck and we headed out the road, probably faster than was prudent, but I wanted to be home. Interacting with people was draining.
Plus, it had been awhile since Terri and I truly had any alone time. She sensed my hurry and started giggling.
“What?” I had to ask.
“You think we’re going to go racing into the driveway and peel off our clothes as we run upstairs?” I hadn’t realized that I’d been that transparent. “There’s a baby in the house. A little baby that will probably draw you in the second you get there. Wood will need cutting, something will need to be repaired, the house will be a mess, the sink full of dishes and you know what we’re going to do?” she asked. I wasn’t sure it was a question, but I decided to bite.
“Each other?”
Her giggle turned into a chuckle. “Eventually, I suppose. We’re going to dig in and do what we can to take the burden off Aeryn. We’re going to watch the baby and clean the house. When the time’s right, we’ll get our alone time.” She put her hand on my leg, kneading my muscles. The arrow wound was long forgotten. There was a hard spot where it had scarred, but generally it didn’t hurt anymore.
“I have a son-in-law and he shot me. I have a granddaughter, too. You don’t mind sleeping with a grandpa, do you?”
She took her hand from my leg. “Since you put it that way, it kind of dampens the mood.” I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I moped in silence as we drove on.
After an hour, she finally spoke. “You’re as bad as a little kid who didn’t get a candy bar.”
“But it’s a damn good candy bar!” I blurted out. She started laughing.
“Then it would be best if you never mentioned that sleeping with a grandpa thing again.”
“Done,” I said. My mood lightened appreciably. That was too easy. “You want something,” I accused.
“Not that you know of, dear. Just be ready when I call in that marker,” she said lightly while looking out the window at the landscape. We drove past Salcha and Eielson Air Force Base, the
n through North Pole on our way to New Fairbanks. It was early evening when we arrived, but since it was early June, it was still light out.
Floyd was happy to get out of the truck. He ran into the yard and through it to the kennel. We knew he’d arrived when the sled dogs started barking out of control.
Aeryn and Toby were sitting outside, a fire in the fire pit. Aeryn was rocking little Madison while Toby cooked something on the end of a stick. We waved and dropped our stuff off inside the door. The house was clean and organized. There were no dirty dishes.
“You knew!” I said accusingly.
“Of course. She’s your daughter, and there’s no way she would live in a sty. Why did you doubt yourself?” Another question that I couldn’t answer. I hugged her quickly as I ran back outside to caress the sleeping baby’s head.
“You’ll be pleased to know that as of a week ago, she’s sleeping through the night…” And that began an evening of small talk and eating strips of moose that Toby was cooking. It was the kind of thing we used to do as a family, and it was the thing that Aeryn refused to let die.
“I think we’ll have a council meeting tomorrow. Are you coming?” I asked my daughter.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ve been out of it for too long.”
“That’s right, Chris may have to step aside because of other duties. We’ll need a new council president,” I said as I walked away. We had no law that said a seventeen-year-old couldn’t be on the Council. There was no need for such limits. Either a person was capable of serving or they weren’t, regardless of any other factors.
IS IT WAR?
No one wanted to see a land war in Asia, as the Princess Bride taught us, and no one wanted a proxy war in their front yard, either.
When the Russian military showed up, I started to worry. It was the same day that the next destroyer arrived and prevented the Sumitomo resupply ship from entering Alaskan waters.
Fury (End Times Alaska Book 4) Page 17
