by David Hearne
Morning was just a few ticks away so neither of them really went back to sleep, but just laid there in the quiet of the night thinking.
* * * *
When the private plane touched down at the Devil Lake’s Airport in North Dakota, a contingent from Katherine’s staff met them with the big campaign bus. The trip to Alaska had been beneficial. Besides making her feel a little more rested and more focused on her campaign, she had come to accept that her political platform was truly a threat to some. She also had realized that these powers had become a scourge to the American way. Their greed makes it impossible for them to fix themselves. She remembered the famous quote by Edmund Burke that “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” She realized that billions of dollars in profits is incentive enough for the greedy to feel it necessary to eliminate her so the public will forget her crusade. Their biggest fear is that somehow the public will put enough pressure on Congress to actually take actions that will steer our country in a direction that makes it energy self reliant.
As she boarded her bus, her staff welcomed her back with smiles, hugs and handshakes. The sight of her special security contingent supplemented by Secret Service agents gave her an even stronger sense of well-being. Quickly, they got settled in the revamped bus as it slowly rolled across the tarmac and headed toward the US-281 freeway. Turtle Mountain Community College was only an hour and a half drive from the airport. As they drove north on US-281, her odd dream kept resurfacing in her thoughts. She even felt her visions of the two dead men had taken on more clarity. She asked to see all the morning newspapers and looked for any news of double murder, but found nothing. She was sure the dream was significant. She was sure it was something that would happen or something that had happened, but knew she was unable to really prove that to anyone.
Katherine Laforge’s campaign caravan entered the drive leading to the Turtle Mountain Community College’s administrative building. Its windows gleamed like the facets of a diamond from the bright North Dakota sunlight. The blinding radiance, once just a natural phenomenon, was now a security concern. They would want Katherine to stay in her vehicle until agents could clearly see the windows. Now a shadow, an obscured window, or a strange face in the crowd might unnerve Katherine or her entourage. No attacks or real threats had happened lately, but everyone felt something bad was imminent.
While Katherine’s entourage waited in the vehicles, a reception party stood patiently on the wide steps. Excited students lined the walks, hoping for a glimpse of the Presidential contender and interspersed among them were television cameras and journalists.
In methodical manner Katherine’s bodyguards and Secret Service men, scrutinized the location, spoke briefly with members of the reception committee, and then voiced the all clear in their radio microphones. As Katherine descended the bus steps, she could feel fear creeping through her being again, but she hid it. An attractive raven-haired woman with high cheekbones whispering of her Native American ancestry stepped forward with a wide smile and outstretched hand.
“Welcome to Turtle Mountain Community College, Senator. I’m Kris Delorme, project manager here at TMCC.”
Answering the brilliant smile with one of her own, Katherine let herself be drawn forward with her husband Ira right behind her. A cheer roared from the onlookers, her name a continuous chant that made further introductions impossible. The celebrity welcome was one that would have been intoxicating to Katherine a month ago, but now it was just part of a nerve-jangling commitment. Katherine waved back while the reception committee led her up a short flight of steps and into the glass-domed TMCC Administration Building. As the doors closed behind them, the chanting muted, but was still audible. A feeling of security enveloped her again.
“Your visit has made the students very excited and enthusiastic,” Kris Delorme said approvingly. “And I might add, many of our students are old enough to vote.”
Ira chuckled. “We appreciate their interest. My wife needs every vote, she can get, if she is to win.”
“But she will, I feel certain,” Kris pressed, and then speaking to Senator Laforge, she grew serious. “We’ve read your views, and I like your push for alternative energy sources and environmental concerns.” Her dark eyes reflected her passion. “If we don’t save America for tomorrow, who will?”
Then others closed in around them, and Katherine was whisked away to meet the TMCC faculty. She endured countless introductions and a cursory tour of the campus before finding herself with Kris once more in the north campus facility. “Celebrity status must be quite trying, I’m sure,” Kris said with an impish grin as she ushered the Senator into the project director’s office.
Katherine brushed back an errant curl and sighed. “It does have its moments.”
Pamela Tutton, part of the entourage asked, “May, I call you Kris?” and continued at Kris’ nod. “We would love to see your Green Energy projects including your implementation of geothermal heating and cooling in buildings, electric floor heating, the straw bale building, and your wind turbine. Regretfully our time here is limited, so we need to economize what we have. Can you show us some of these energy projects in operation?”
Kris nodded. “Well, first let me tell you about our geothermal heating system. Regretfully there is not much of the system; I can show you other than its pump stations, valves, piping, and the buildings in which the flow pipes are embedded. We have very cold winters here in North Dakota, so we looked for the most efficient and economic way to provide heat. This is a system where we take advantage of the earth’s ability to store vast amounts of heat in the soil. Ground-source heat pumps use twenty-five percent to seventy-five percent less electricity and have a lifespan of twenty to thirty years.” She smiled broadly. “These systems pay for themselves in two to ten years and reduce fossil fuel consumption while producing no harmful emissions.”
Katherine held up a hand. “Do I understand correctly that it is used for both heating and cooling?”
“Absolutely! A series of valves can switch it from the hot or cold side. For cooling, heat from the building is transferred to a heat transfer unit that takes advantage of the natural coolness of earth a few hundred feet below. The earth itself does the cooling. This is a far more economical and efficient process than current conventional systems. Even the displaced heat from the system is put to good use by helping heat the building’s hot water supply.”
She glanced smiling at Katherine, her entourage and the reporters. “What we end up with is a very cost efficient and environmentally safe HVAC system.”
As a couple of reporters raised their hands to get Ms. Delorme’s attention, Pamela smiled and admonished them to wait until the tour’s completion to present questions. She then turned to Kris, “Now tell us about the Straw Bale Building?”
“That is it over there.” Kris pointed to a large square building on the other side of the commons. “The eighteen-hundred-square-foot building was completely built for $255,000 and is used for various classes, project meetings, and weekend program activities.”
“So the cost of creating this building is roughly what we spend on the war in Iraq in less then 2 minutes.” Katherine interjected speaking directly to the accompanying press. “Let me reiterate, this structure cost less than what we spend in two minutes in Iraq to help secure oil reserves.” With that Katherine turned back to her hostess.
Kris led Katherine and her entourage to a large square building set behind a wooden fence. An exposed-beam porch sheltered its entrance. Stopping in front of it, Kris said, “At first glance the building appears very normal, but if you look at the window insets and the thickness of the walls near doorways it becomes obvious that this construction is different. Sandwiched between the exterior wood panels and interior plastered walls are stacked bales of hay. These are grown and baled right here on campus. The resulting thickness of the walls provide high insulation protection from our frigid North Dakota Weather. We save about sixty percent i
n construction cost, and we end up with a much more efficient building for our climate.”
Just as Katherine turned to speak to Kris, blinding flashes of light washed over her. She stood transfixed trying to gain her composure like a deer caught in bright headlights. The hairs on the back of her neck stood erect as a chill rushed up her spine. Suddenly, a hand shot out towards Katherine.
Katherine felt the hand tightening on her arm and Pamela’s voice telling her, “It’s just the network photographers. It’s okay!”
Katherine’s gazed turned to Pamela with eyes still displaying fear. “I’m sorry, but those flashes are unnerving after you’ve been shot at a few times. I’m sorry I acted so stunned”
Pamela stepped in front of Katherine and exhorted the reporters and their crew to step back and give the Senator and Ms. Delorme enough room to conduct the tour. Security men came forward to enforce Pamela’s request.
“Yes, please give us some room!” Kris urged, “I have more to show and explain about this building. I would like to point out these features while we tour it. First,” she said, pointing to the floor, “it has radiant floor heating. We also are using LED lighting in entrances and bathrooms, with compact fluorescent lighting in the classroom. The roof consists of structurally insulated panels capped by a metal roof and solar panels.” She paused and gestured at the surrounding walls. “And we are proud to say it is all state-of-the-art and built largely by volunteers.”
“I am very impressed with what I see, and what you describe.” Katherine exclaimed, “Your project is certainly evidence that we have many ways to make more effective use of our resources and save on fossil fuel.”
“Impressive,” Pamela said approvingly, “and especially the fact that you have taken such great strides to make Turtle Mountain almost self-sufficient.”
“It’s part of our Chippewa cultural heritage,” Kris replied. “Our ancestors did not believe in wasting the natural resources available to them, and we carry on that belief. For us, self-sufficiency is not a goal, it’s a driving force.”
She continued, “Since North Dakota’s wind energy potential is among the greatest in the United States, our choice of taking advantage of it to provide electrical power coincides with our cultural beliefs and desire for independence.”
“Then incorporating a wind turbine to establish energy independence,” Katherine pressed, “is as much an expression of the Band’s cultural beliefs as it is an economic goal?”
Kris nodded approvingly. “Yes to both. Our wind turbine reduces the electric utility cost for our 145,000-square-foot main campus by fifty percent. It also serves as an educational tool for both environmental and pre-engineering programs.”
“Did you receive any of DOE’s two million dollars allocated for these purposes?” Katherine asked.
“DOE grants provided about 80 percent of the cost.” Kris responded. Senator Laforge placed her hand on Kris’s shoulder and spoke directly to the press, “Again I just want to make it crystal clear that our government’s two million set aside for all these types of projects equals the cost of about 12 minutes of our war in Iraq. A war that helps Big Oil provide our country with today’s oil, but offers nothing to solve America’s future energy needs. TMCC project does. Even this miniscule amount of government money will provide energy to the citizens of this community for years to come and have minimal environmental impact.”
With that parting shot, the tour caravanned to a spot just outside of Belcourt, North Dakota. High on a tree-covered ridge, the sun glittered off the wind turbine’s silver blades rotating quietly in the breeze. A sickening feeling swept through Katherine as the visions of Frank Payne’s murder at the Texas wind farm once more filled her mind. They came to a parking area and Katherine and her entourage exited their vehicles. Rejoining Kris Delorme was a welcomed diversion for Katherine to help block her thoughts of Frank. They all began the climb up the ridge to a better observation point of the wind turbine. Now she could hear the steady ‘phfoop ... phfoop ... phfoop’ noise of the turning propellers. She looked about and she could see her security agents scanning the distant ridges and slopes. She realized that this was a perfect spot for an assassin to kill her. The embankment she was climbing framed her perfectly for anyone with a long-range rifle, like the one that had pierced holes in her bus. There was nowhere to hide on this barren slope. She had to face this hazard bravely, and accept whatever might happen. Halfway up the slope was a wooden pole fence and Katherine braced herself against it and watched the wind turbine’s huge three-bladed array rotate in the stiff breeze. She knew film crews were angling to record her profile against the wind turbine’s tower, and she accommodated them. With her hair flying in the breeze she turned toward Kris Delorme and said. “I am impressed.”
Katherine glanced back at the whirling blades. “With more of these…?”
Kris seized the cue. “Oh yes, Senator, it’s been estimated that North Dakota’s wind energy alone could provide forty-five percent of the United States’ electrical needs. Add to that the accompanying reduction of fossil fuel use, CO2 emissions, and acid rain. I think that this is certainly part of our country’s solution to provide sustainable energy.”
A strange thought ran through Katherine’s mind, and she chuckled. At Kris’s questioning glance, Katherine spoke softly, her words only for Kris’ ears. “Don Quixote tilted windmills. I’m embracing them.”
A stiff breeze carried away their soft laughter as Pamela announced to the press. “The Senator is now ready to entertain questions about her energy platform.”
Immediately, a hand shot up from a reporter who had been at numerous stops. “Senator, do you feel the murder of Dick Montgomery was a result of his out-spoken support for your biodiesel platform?”
Katherine felt her stomach tightening. She felt broad sided. She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts and said, “I was unaware of this tragedy. Mr. Montgomery was a friend and speculation on his death is not something I will do.”
“Senator, while you were on your way to this installation, his body was discovered by his employees. It was floating in one of his algae ponds. His throat had been slit. He left behind a suicide note denouncing his stand on biodiesel and you. Would you care to comment?”
Katherine glared at the reporter and said, “I will not even attempt to answer a question so morose, and that I know nothing about. Mr. Montgomery was a dear friend, and my heart goes out to his family.”
Katherine signaled to a different reporter, and a Mr. Burns asked, “Senator, in Jeremiah 10:13, it is stated that God brings out the wind from His storehouses. Do you think it is blasphemous that we do not use this gift of energy that he apparently provides for us?”
Katherine paused smiling and replied, “Mr. Burns, if that is true, I pray that He blesses those like Kris, who have had the wisdom to recognize his gift of wind energy. And I think if God was to see anyone as blasphemous it would be the titans of Big Oil, coal and nuclear energy industries for the terrible carnage they have done to his creation. Have you ever seen the destroyed mountaintops of West Virginia from the coal industry? Or wondered how the nuclear energy industry plans to dispose of their dangerous spent fuel? Well, sir, they do not have a working plan, and it appears they really don’t care as long as they can make a profit today.”
Fifteen minutes zoomed by as Katherine fielded the questions. Finally, they were back on the campaign bus on route to the next stop. Her overwhelming feeling of relief was like what the final winner of a Russian roulette tournament would experience. Now they were heading to Rutledge Missouri, to visit a place called “Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage.” As she sat on the couch next to Ira, the events of the day flitted through her mind. She wondered what had happened to Dick Montgomery, and if she had not visited him would he still be alive? Even these tragedies and her returning cloud of guilt no longer kept her awake and quickly her head rolled onto her husband’s shoulder, and she was asleep.
At about two in the morning Katherine a
woke. She was alone on the couch now, covered with a blanket. The wheels of the bus were a steady comforting drone, but Katherine was wide-awake. She had been dreaming about death. Perhaps brought on from thoughts about Frank Payne or Dick Montgomery. Out the window, the sky was clear and Katherine could see the bright moon floating swollen in the night’s darkness. She looked at it transfixed and fantasized, that it was like an orb that beckoned the dying from darkness into its brilliance like the flames draw moths. She hoped that if her death came at night, it would be one like tonight with a moon blazing, with its rays cutting through the darkness to guide her home. Immortality was not a delusion she entertained. She realized that death was real and only its moment was unknown. The threats, the constant fear of imminent death was so menacing it often numbed Katherine. It was terrifying to wake up each morning and wonder if death was but a few moments away, lurking somewhere out there as innocuous and natural as air. She accepted she was at the apex of her life with death hovering around it, in all its permutations, accident, sickness, and murder. Death she could not defeat, but she could and would resist her assassins. Time was precious now. Katherine knew she had to stay composed and consciously face the inevitable, if she wanted her final chapter to be one of accomplishments and greatness.
Katherine wanted to accept the inevitable so she could be free to focus on her fight for the presidency and perhaps to be the catalyst in freeing her country from the grips of Big Oil, foreign powers, and invasive taxation. Sleep overtook her again, and she slept fitfully until a flood of rose roiled across the early morning sky.
Ira was already up and had a report for Katherine along with a steaming cup of coffee and a bagel. The report was about the death of Dick Montgomery. It stated that at about 2 am the day after her visit, three employees were checking a malfunction on a skimmer in one of the Algae ponds and discovered Mr. Montgomery in it with his throat torn open, but still alive. His body was twitching with his legs flaying the water. He had appeared to be trying to pull himself up onto the pond’s skimmer. His shoulders were jerking back as he futilely struggled in agony. A suicide note was found, but authorities believed it was written by someone else and then given to him to sign. His wife and disabled son both rebuked the assertion that he had taken his own life. And to complicate the suicide claim, no knife or object was found to explain how he could have slit his own throat. Two other bodies were found outside, on the concrete parking lot. They were two unidentified men with gunshot wounds to the back of their heads. One of the men’s ocular prosthetic was found nearby in a pool of blood. It was not known if their murder was related to Mr. Montgomery’s death, but there was a great deal of suspicion that they were.
