by Cathy Pegau
* * *
Natalia swung the loader around and headed toward the conveyor, the engine vibrations shimmying up her spine through the hard plastic seat. Every time she approached the mound of ore the cutter had thrown behind him, she purposely ignored Finn. He waited back by the pile of rock with the other roofer, prepping their vehicle until they were called into the cut. Normally, she wouldn’t have had to see him after tagging in then riding with Keegan and Ria, but one of the red hats had called in sick. At the shift briefing, Mac put her on loader duty.
On more than one trip to the mound, Natalia had seen Finn glaring at her. The right side of his face looked puffy. Grim satisfaction did little to counter the remnants of frustration and confusion. And jealousy. By silent agreement, she and Gennie seemed to have come to an understanding that morning. They were here to work the case, not fondle and lust after one another. She should tell Finn he was free to pursue Gennie if he wanted, but she wasn’t ready for that level of detachment yet.
Celine marked her data pad when Natalia dumped the ore onto the belt. The bucket rattled as she brought it down and backed up to turn around. Celine pressed her hand to her ear, cupping the headset to hear better, Natalia assumed, and held up her other hand. Natalia waited. Celine waved her fingertips across her throat, the universal sign to cut the engine.
Natalia did so, her ears humming in the relative silence despite the ear protection.
“Cutter’s down,” the older woman said, slapping the conveyor stop button. “Take a break while they get her back online.”
It wasn’t unusual for equipment to gum up or hydraulic lines to blow. As long as the mech could fix it in a timely manner, no one minded a little break now and again. Even a half-hour delay wouldn’t keep them from making their cut quota.
Natalia unbuckled the safety harness and swung out of the driver’s seat. She wiped sweat off her brow as she ambled over to Celine. Time to make nice with the pirqs. If something was going on in the void or around the site, they’d know. Chances were fair to middling “off the book” jobs were to be had at Grand Meridian. She needed to find out if one of them included side work for Reyes.
Celine reached down to a water bottle at her feet and tossed it to Natalia. “Hot enough for ya?”
Natalia smiled. “Hot as hell, but not nearly as fun.” Celine’s braying laugh echoed against the rock. Natalia took a swig of water and handed the bottle back. “Thanks.”
“Nice left at the kid last night.” Celine’s amusement lit her eyes. “Finn needs a smack now and again.”
Natalia’s neck and face warmed. “I was out of line.”
“You were protecting your friend. I seen him get pushier than that before.” Celine leaned against the wall and fished her cheroot from the band around her hat. She withdrew a coil match from her trouser pocket and flicked the tip. The element glowed red. She touched it to the stick of tobacco, and sweet smoke wafted toward the ceiling four meters above.
“A little ember like this won’t do no harm,” she assured Natalia.
Natalia shrugged but kept an eye on where Celine flicked the ashes. “Nice to get out of the loader. Those things rattle my kidneys and make my ass numb.”
The other woman nodded and smiled through the smoke. “Haulin’s a better gig, for sure.”
“Or cuttin’,” Natalia said, looking as wistful as she could. “Wouldn’t mind getting a crack at that sometime.”
“Good money in cuttin’.”
An experienced cutter was worth his weight in cred chits. A fast, experienced cutter who could make quota and then some often got himself and his crew a little bonus.
“I could use it, for sure.” Natalia mirrored Celine’s stance against the wall. “I know there isn’t much chance of me cuttin’ any time soon. You know of any way I could make a few extra creds around here?”
Celine gave her a quick up-and-down. “You mean, aside from sellin’ what ya got?”
“I’m not keen on that particular activity,” Natalia said, grinning. “I’ll leave it to the professionals.” Most camps had at least a couple of men and women who plied the age-old trade.
The other woman shrugged. “Always something here or there, depending on what you’re up for.”
“I’m not particular, except for the prostituting part.”
Celine laughed as she stubbed her cheroot out on the bottom of her boot. “I’ll let you know if I hear of anything.” She returned the half-smoked stogie to the band around her hat. “Cutter’s back on.”
Natalia pushed away from the wall, hoping she’d put a bug in the right ear.
* * *
Gennie filled her tea cup as she spoke to Melaine. What was supposed to be a quick goodnight call was running long, and she kept half her attention on the door. Natalia and the hauler crew had called in to say they’d be late due to a mechanical issue. Gennie wanted to take advantage of the time to speak to the kids.
“I miss you too, sweetie. Be good for Delilah, and don’t fight with Branson.” The lock on the door clicked. Gennie’s heart thudded. “Gotta go, baby. I’ll be home soon. Love you.”
Used to abrupt endings to their conversations, Melaine said goodbye without a fuss. Gennie hit the disconnect and slipped the device into her pocket as Natalia came in.
The CMA agent glanced down at Gennie’s hand then met her eyes. She shut the door and hung her hard hat on one of the hooks beside it. “Comm signal decent?”
Gennie refused to feel guilty about calling her children, but she felt her face and neck heat anyway. More deception, she read in Natalia’s eyes. Not a shock.
“Not bad. I have a better than average model that can hold weak signals.” She prepped another cup of tea and set it on the wobbly table. “I found a couple of things today.”
Natalia settled into the chair and sipped her tea. “What?”
Gennie showed her the personnel location discrepancies. “Why are these same folks popping up in these places with such regularity? And going back again and again?”
“Good question,” Natalia said. “Even a pirq wouldn’t go to that much trouble to tap a difficult vein.”
“That was my thinking too.” It gave Gennie a weirdly warm feeling to have them both thinking along the same lines. “What about the locators?”
“That’s a recent manufacturing requirement.” Natalia’s brow creased and she quickly took a gulp of tea. After a moment, she continued. “Older hats won’t have them, but there’s no way of telling if whoever is responsible for this is using that to their advantage to confuse things or just doesn’t care.”
“So it’s not necessarily a question of who’s in the mine, but when?”
“Right,” Natalia said. “That’s the thing that sticks out for me.”
“Here’s another thought,” Gennie said. “What if Reyes isn’t taking something out of the mine, but bringing something in then reshipping to Juneau?”
Natalia gave her a skeptical look. “Such as?”
Gennie shrugged. “Amber is the first thing I thought, but what I saw on this inventory list would mean a shitload of amber was here. So I doubt that’s it.”
Gennie handed her the data stick. Natalia plugged it into her comm. She rubbed her eyes while she waited for it to load. Gennie sat across from her.
“No, this isn’t right,” Natalia confirmed after reading for a few minutes. She tapped her comm with agitated flicks of her finger, her cup forgotten for the moment. “There’s no need for these sorts of containers at a site. The ore goes out in the thousand-cubic bins, not half-kiloliter barrels. Those are meant for hazardous waste.”
Gennie set her tea down. “It’s the only manifest with them on it. I couldn’t tell if this was a one-time thing, or if there had been earlier shipments that were tampered with to hide them and maybe this one had been missed.”<
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Natalia raised her eyes to Gennie’s. “There’s nothing in a keracite mine that would require containers with these kind of safety seals. Slag isn’t that toxic. Whatever they’re pulling out of the void to fill these, it’s dangerous.”
“What could it be?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “No idea. They may be working on a different sort of extraction method, one that produces waste they can’t dispose of by legitimate means. That would go against CMA environmental codes, as well as pirq methodology.” Natalia didn’t sound convinced of her own conclusion.
Gennie considered the invoice for the barrels, the personnel and the shipments off-world. “They wouldn’t be sending hazardous waste all the way to the Juneau System.”
“No,” Natalia said, “so it has to be something else.” She closed the files and pulled the stick from her comm. “I need to see what’s going on.”
Gennie stared at her. “You’re going in.”
Into the tunnels. Into the void. In secret. Without a full crew to back her up, should something go wrong. And considering the age of the dented hard hat she wore, without a locator. Sweat broke out on Gennie’s forehead.
“These shipping manifests don’t list content.” Natalia sipped her tea, cool and calm, because while the idea made Gennie’s heart race, it was the next natural step. “Tomorrow’s Worship. When we go back in a couple of days, find out where this crew is working.”
Chapter Ten
The worship hall at Grand Meridian was the restaurant side of The Hole with the tables shoved off to one side and the chairs arranged in rows. The hall was full, a surprise since Natalia hadn’t thought Grand Meridian was a particularly devout site.
Revivalist sermons usually lasted an hour or two, but then the remainder of Worship Day was supposed to be a time for reflection, devotion or connecting with friends and family. Natalia wondered what the Grand Meridian pirqs did for the rest of the day, since mining was shut down until tomorrow. She had a feeling The Hole wasn’t closed for Worship.
Natalia led Gennie down the center aisle to a couple of empty seats a few rows from the back. She smiled at the older couple occupying the seats beside her and set her wide-brimmed hat on her lap. Gennie sat in the next chair, her dark eyes taking in the chatting pirqs and the trio of clergy sitting at the front of the room near the pulpit.
Natalia had grown up going to weekly sermons. Her parents weren’t strict Revivalists but had felt their daughters could use a little faith. After they’d died, Natalia had never returned to a worship hall. Walking into the hall brought back a familiar comfort of attending services with her parents and sister. Yet at the same time, after so many years away from the church’s teachings, she felt at any moment someone was going to tap her on the shoulder and tell her she didn’t belong. In truth, she didn’t.
Gennie leaned close to Natalia, her gaze on the crowd but her words for Natalia’s ears. The flowery aroma of her shampoo filled Natalia’s senses. “This has to be everyone on-site.”
“Just about,” Natalia replied.
“We didn’t do this, any of this.” Gennie sat back, but her scent lingered.
Natalia was about to ask what Gennie’s family did do—she knew so little about the woman—when one of the clergy at the front raised his hands and called for everyone to be seated. He was a jovial-looking man with a shock of white hair contrasting his dark complexion. The black suit and collarless shirt he wore were typical for a Revivalist preacher. The other clergy were dressed the same, though the woman wore a skirt that came to her knees.
A broad, welcoming smile greeted everyone as the miners and their families found their seats and quieted.
“Good morning, brothers and sisters.” His voice carried to the back of the room without obvious electronic amplification. “What a glorious day to be in the world. Please stand, and we’ll begin our service with ‘Rejoice, Ye Pure in Heart.’”
Gennie glanced at Natalia, a questioning look in her eyes.
“Just follow me,” Natalia said over the rustle of chairs and throat-clearing coughs.
They rose with the rest of the congregation. Natalia placed her hat on the seat and reached beneath her chair for the small book of hymns. Gennie found her book, checked the page Natalia was on and smiled. Natalia grinned back and began singing.
The responses and actions returned to Natalia as the sermon continued. The message of hard work and godliness wasn’t new, but the enthusiasm and good nature of the lead preacher was not how she remembered the stoic clergy of her childhood. The other two at the pulpit, who gave short readings and led them in song as well, were more akin to the somber men and women of her youth.
Gennie followed along without hesitation. Not being raised in the church, the hour-long service could have been boring for her, but she paid attention to everything the preachers and congregation said or did. An intelligent woman learned all she could about her environment, Natalia mused, but a savvy one took real interest and got to know it better.
“Please rise,” the lead preacher said, “and join hands with your neighbor for the final invocation.”
Natalia and Gennie rose with the rest of the congregation. She had forgotten this part of the sermon, an important symbol of community and shared spirit.
Their eyes met, and Natalia saw in Gennie the same trepidation she felt swirling inside. After their kiss the other day, they’d been so careful. They never touched, never showered at the same time. Both had focused on the task at hand, and nothing more.
The older gentleman to Natalia’s left took her hand. She glanced at him and returned his friendly smile out of politeness. Then she felt it. Gennie’s warm fingers clasped her right hand. Natalia turned to her. Gennie stared straight ahead, her attention on the preacher, yet her fingers twined with Natalia’s. She curled them slightly to draw their hands closer.
Was this some sort of signal? Was Natalia supposed to say or do something, or assume Gennie was merely following the ritual?
“Brothers and sisters,” the preacher said, “if you remember one thing from today, remember this. Every person we love, who loves us, is a gift, and everyone we meet is a chance to share ourselves. Honest, hard work keeps us close to God, but it’s our love for each other that brings God into each of us. Go in peace.”
Gennie’s jaw tightened and her brow furrowed. There was nothing especially rousing about the final words, but something had resonated with the woman.
The man on her left squeezed Natalia’s hand before releasing her. Natalia gave him and his wife another smile. She quickly turned back to Gennie. Before Natalia could question her, Gennie pulled out of Natalia’s grasp and shouldered her way into the aisle.
“Wait,” Natalia called after her.
The room buzzed with chatter. Even if Gennie had heard her, Natalia was sure she wouldn’t have stopped. Her face and body language made it clear enough that Gennie wanted to get away. But from what? The Revivalists? Natalia?
Natalia followed her into the crowd of idling worshipers, resisting the impulse to shove people aside to get through. By the time she made it outside, Gennie was nowhere to be seen.
“Damn it.” Natalia smacked her hat on her thigh then shoved it on her head. Maybe Gennie had headed back to the room already.
She started in that direction. From the corner of her eye, she saw two figures standing beside the building. Natalia glanced that way and stopped. Gennie was speaking to Ria, her head bend toward the smaller woman. Natalia couldn’t hear what she was saying. Ria’s shoulders sagged, and she shook her head. Gennie drew her into a hug, rubbing her back. She looked up, and Natalia’s heart spasmed. Gennie’s face was etched with lines of sorrow.
Almost feeling like she was intruding but compelled to understand what had the women so upset, Natalia joined them. She laid a hand on Ria’s shoulder, her ga
ze remaining on Gennie. “What happened?”
Was it Keegan? She hadn’t seen him or Ria at the service—there’d been a lot of people in the hall—and wasn’t even sure if they were followers.
Ria eased out of Gennie’s arms. Her face was puffy and her eyes red from crying. She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Mama took a turn. It doesn’t look good.”
Grief old and new wound its way through Natalia. “Oh, Ria, I’m so sorry.”
“Da and I are headed to Garner. Should be there tonight.” Ria sniffed again and scanned the crowd coming out of The Hole. “Wanted to catch Mac and let him know. There he is.” She looked back at Gennie and Natalia and gave them a wan smile. “Sorry to leave you high and dry, but there are some good folks here to fill in.”
Natalia gave her a quick hug. “Don’t you worry about that. Safe travels.”
“Thanks.” Ria hugged Gennie again. “I’ll send word when I can.” She hurried toward the crowd, looking smaller and younger than her years.
Natalia shoved her hands in her coat pockets and regarded Gennie. The woman watched Ria meet up with Mac, sadness for the two of them, people she barely knew, plain on her face. Natalia wanted to hug her too, wanted to ask what had come over her during the sermon. But old memories, old pain, closed her throat and kept her still. She knew what Ria would be going through all too soon.
Gennie faced Natalia, and after a few moments the turmoil in her eyes became understanding. Natalia wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or terrified that she’d revealed anything.
Gennie took Natalia’s arm and guided her toward the dorm.
* * *
Tea and sympathy, her mother had called it. But in this case, Gennie knew the sympathy would be deserved, not to mollify the overdramatic wailings of a teenager.
She set a cup of tea in front of Natalia and one at her own place on the small table in their living room. Shoulders hunched, Natalia wrapped her hands around the mug and held it close to her chin, as if trying to absorb the warmth.
