by Paul Byers
“Okay, thanks,” K.D. said. She turned around and leaned back, following the tower all the way until it disappeared into the ceiling. “All right then,” she said as she turned on the notebook, “we’re here,” showing Tony on the screen, “and you’re going to be here.” She said, pointing to the support anchors below the deck.
“Ah come on, even out here I still get the crap jobs?” Tony whined.
K.D. looked at him and took her finger and pointed at herself first and then to him. “Partner in the firm, intern at the firm. Besides, don’t mess with the GB3 or you’ll be 1-DB.”
He looked at her, not understanding.
“One Dead Boy.” She smirked. “Now get moving.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tony replied, his head hanging down in defeat as he started below deck.
Chapter Thirty Three
Mallory looked up from her desk when she heard the light tap on her office door; it was her secretary, Cindy. “Senator Williams’ aid, Robert Thornton, is here and would like to speak with you.”
“Thank you, Cindy. Send him in, in ten minutes please.”
She nodded and closed the door behind her on her way out. I wonder what he wants, Mallory thought to herself. She actually had the time to see Thornton right now but it was always best to make people wait, reminding them that they were the one who wanted to see you, a trick she had learned from her boss. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Old Pug is up to something, she thought and he’s probably using Thornton to try to pump information from me, hoping I’ll be all buddy, buddy with his little minion. She smirked, loving the challenge, divide and conquer.
Just before Cindy let him in, she positioned herself by the coffeepot. Hearing his knock, she stifled a smile as she poured a cup of coffee. Show time!
“Hi Bobby,” she said warmly, “I was just having some coffee, can I pour you a cup?” Let’s test this boy right out of the gate and see what he’s got. I know he hates to be called Bobby so if he corrects me, he has at least a little self-respect and if he doesn’t then he’s a little puppy dog with his tail between his legs and I’ll chew him up and spit him out.
“Hi Elizabeth, thank you for seeing me. I know how busy you are, and yes, some coffee would be nice,” He’s polite but… “and I prefer Robert.” Good boy.
“Not at all, now what I can do for you, Robert?”
“Well Elizabeth…”
“Please, call me Beth.” Lower his defenses with familiarity.
“Beth, as you know, I work for Senator Williams, and the Senator has a great many interests…”
Let’s see how this boy does under pressure, how well he thinks on his feet when he can’t use his practiced scripted.
“Well, Robert,” she interrupted, “as you said, my time is valuable, so why not skip the political double speak and tell me the real reason you’re here?”
Thornton released a small sigh. “Putting it plain and simple, my boss doesn’t trust your boss and he wants me to try and find out what Mr. Cain is up to through you.” An admission? A frontal assault made to lower my defenses to get me to trust him? Perhaps Bobby here is not so simple and innocent after all. This could be interesting.
“What doesn’t he trust? Doesn’t he think the entire project is real?” Mallory asked.
“What the Senator doesn’t trust are Mr. Cain’s motivations and his ultimate intentions.”
“His ultimate intentions? You’re kidding right? Pug doesn’t believe that Nigel wants to bring fresh water to millions and ease pain and suffering around the world?”
“That he believes, but what he doesn’t trust are his ulterior motives.”
“Ulterior motives? What ulterior motives? That’s ridiculous.”
Thornton sighed. “It’s bad enough that the Senator treats me like an idiot and if you can’t or don’t want to help me then fine, but please, at least show me a little common decency and respect. I know how the game is played; I am not a fool”
Interesting. So he isn’t a total lap dog for the Senator. Is he showing me he’s brave by speaking out or trying to play the sympathy card? Let’s see just how loyal he is.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ve heard old Pug Williams can be a tough S.O.B. If he’s as bad as they say, then why do you stay with him?”
“Does Mr. Cain always do everything the way you want? Have you two never had cross words?”
I think this boy really could be a player, throwing back the question in my face, hmmm.
Mallory shook her head. “Of course we have our disagreements but we argue from the standpoint of mutual respect, not master/minion. I don’t think you can say the same.”
“No, no I can’t. There are times I want to tell him he can take this job and shove it where the sun don’t shine but then I know that would defeat the purpose.”
“What purpose?”
“He is crafty, sneaky, kind when he wants to be and manages to get things done when others falter. He can kiss the babies at the supermarket and hang a political enemy out to dry in the same afternoon. I’ve seen him take ‘Campaign funds’ from big business and then turn around and rake them over the coals in the media to help a lowly widow get her dead husband’s pension.
“Agree or disagree with his style or personality, he is still one of the greatest, pure politicians to ever live. If you want to be the best, you have to learn from the best.”
Mallory leaned back in her chair and considered this. Well, well, this boy is ambitious and seems to have a good sense of how things work. In a few years he could be a real contender on Capitol Hill. I’ll nibble a little to see what more I can get out of him.
“Okay, just what is it that Pug is worried about? Why does he see Nigel as threat?” she asked in a softer, more conciliatory tone to lighten the mood and put Thornton more at ease.
“The Senator knows that a man like Mr. Cain doesn’t sink tens of millions of dollars into a project without expecting some sort of return. Mr. Cain has more money than he could possibly ever use so his pay-off must not be financial. So, the only profit from this venture would be goodwill and the only place that goodwill is marketable is in the political arena.”
“So you think Nigel has political ambitions?”
“It makes sense.”
“Your boss doesn’t keep you very well informed does he?”
Thornton had a puzzled look on his face. “What do you mean?”
“Williams himself has talked to Nigel about throwing his hat into the political arena. Your boss wants the presidency and if he gets it, he wanted Nigel to be one of his cabinet appointees.”
Thornton looked stunned.
“I can tell by the look on your face that Williams hasn’t bothered to tell you any of this?”
“Honestly, no.”
“Pug knows all this. He’s either ridiculing you by sending you here on a fool’s errand or he really has no idea and is sending you on a fishing expedition and hopes you’ll get lucky. I have no idea either what he is suspicious of. I’ll talk to Nigel if you want, to see if he has any thoughts.”
Thornton’s face was a mixture of anger at his boss and gratitude to Mallory for her help. “Thank you, Beth, I appreciate it.”
“No problem, and if you pick up anything from Pug, you let me know too.”
Thornton nodded as he got up. “Yeah, sure thing,” he replied. His mind was racing a hundred miles an hour and he didn’t like the direction it was heading.
Chapter Thirty Four
All the service lights on the main relay panel were green, indicating that all was well, but being who he was, Pike didn’t take many things at face value. He didn’t know if it was some psychological things that the shrinks could trace back to his childhood and blame his mother for or if it was his study and training as an engineer that caused him to be nit-picky as K.D. would say, he preferred to think of it as being precise. Or maybe, he mused, after all his studies into the world of conspiracies, things were never as they seemed.
Wh
atever the reason, he accessed the flow charts for the starboard relay pump and traced the flow of all the lines and everything was fine, as indicated on the control panel. Next he opened up the port relay panel and it too showed a driver’s dream of all green lights. Undaunted, he checked the flows of the first three lines and all was well; however, the last line showed a slight increase in pressure. Not a major concern, he thought to himself; it could be anything as simple as a faulty sensor to as serious as a clog somewhere down the line. He would have to trace the line from here to the secondary relay and farther if necessary. The secondary relay pump was on the same level as the main but farther out toward the edge of the iceberg. Pike left the large, spacious corridor for the confines of one of the service passageways. It was four feet wide and barely high enough for him to stand upright, with the ceiling and sides covered with conduit and piping.
Reaching the relay, it opened up into a room not much bigger than a walk-in closet. Again, he accessed the control panel and discovered that there was still back-pressure but it wasn’t from this station. Then where? He really didn’t want to have to trace the line to its final distribution point when suddenly it hit him. He bet the problem was related to the way they had taxed the system to freeze the water in the anchor room.
He headed toward the anchor room, inspecting the piping as he went. After several minutes of walking, he spotted something odd on the wall just ahead. The normally pristine white wall had a green stain on it that looked like mold. When he got closer, he could see that it wasn’t mold but a stain from a leak. During the storm, the stress on the iceberg from the wind and tossing ocean must have caused several of the fittings to rupture, causing leaks.
Like antifreeze dripping from the radiator of a car, several green patches lined the passageway, making the walls look like they’d been vandalized. Though the leaks were not significant, he made notes of their locations to give to Miles when he got back. He also noticed that it seemed just a tad warmer in the passage. He would have to talk to Miles to see if it was just because he was in an enclosed space or if it had anything to do with the juice.
He reached the end of the passage and climbed up the ladders to the same level as the anchor room. According the schematics on his c-pad, this passage should parallel the side of the berg, zigzag near the anchor room, then open out into the main corridor.
Coming to the end of the corridor he turned left, then stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up. The entire passageway was covered in green. It looked like a scene from a Hollywood horror film with green stains covering the walls, ceiling and floor with small streams of slime oozing down the walls. As if the sight alone were not enough, he realized it was now noticeably warmer. He wouldn’t be taking his shirt off, but it felt about ten degrees warmer in the passageway.
He carefully followed the main piping and found where it fed into the anchor room. About three feet up from the floor, he found a T-joint that split the pipe that sent coolant wrapping around the room. He could see that when they filled the room with water and it froze, it had expanded just enough to kink the joints in several of the lines and he found one four-foot section that had nearly been pinched in two.
Being in all this ice and eerie frozen wasteland brought the movie, The Thing, suddenly to mind. He looked around, then continued walking slowly. He felt silly as he let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief when he came into the main corridor in front of the anchor room.
He went over and began examining the anchor room door again, making sure that the leaking coolant hadn’t affected the stability of the ice or the seal. Suddenly he stopped and turned around, thinking he had heard something. He stood for a moment, listening intently, but heard nothing more than his own imagination getting the better of him. He turned back around but suddenly heard the noise again, only this time he knew it was real and it was getting closer.
It wasn’t the monster from the movie, but something nearly as bad, a flock of reporters, all armed with cameras and microphones. A camera crew and five other reporters were following Cain and Williams as they walked. Pike saw that Tabatha was among the reporters, along with Toupee man.
“Gabriel!” Cain said, as he saw Pike standing there. “I see you are hard at it, making sure everything is ready for our grand entrance into New York harbor.” Cain was talking as much to the cameras as he was to Pike. Pike smiled and held out his hand as Cain approached; thinking that now would not be the best time to tell him about the leak.
“You remember Senator Williams?” Cain said as the short, round man bullied his way in front of the pair. “Of course,” Pike lied. With that answer, Pike realized that he was getting used to being The Blast from the Past and was fitting into the role, knowing what to say and what not to say; at that moment he wasn’t sure if that was good or not.
“Fine work you did the last night,” Williams said, shaking Pike’s hand and posing for the cameras in one fluid motion, a skill he had honed to perfection during his many years on the campaign trail.
“Thank you sir,” Pike replied, remembering to smile.
“We’re filming a short documentary about the iceberg,” Williams began, “you know, showing the folks back home that I really am working out here and not working on my suntan.” He winked. Everyone laughed appropriately at the Senator’s joke. “Bobby, why don’t you take everyone and head over to the other anchor room? I want everyone to see what a Cracker Jack job our boy here did.” Williams said, putting his arm around Pike. Thornton nodded and gathered his flock of reporters. The lights went off, and the cameras dropped as the group went back the other way. As soon as everyone was gone, Williams reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “It’s not that you didn’t do a great job,” Williams said, turning to Pike, “it’s just that I was dying for a smoke.”
“You really shouldn’t smoke down here, Pug.” Cain said. “It’s not the kind of image you want to portray.”
“Nonsense.” Williams replied as he took out his lighter and flicked it. “And besides, why do you think I sent them away?”
“Sorry, Pug, but I really must insist you put it out.” Cain said in a stricter tone.
Pike had never heard Cain talk in such a stern voice before. It not only caught his attention, but the Senator’s as well. Williams stared at Cain. Pike could see the anger flashing in Williams’ eyes, not used to anyone talking to him like that. Pike wanted to melt into the wall. He didn’t want to be anywhere near ground zero when World War III started between two of the most powerful men in the world. Just as he thought the power struggle was about to escalate, Williams’ expression changed.
“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Williams said; “This is your dinghy.” Williams took a deep drag out of defiance then flicked the burning cigarette down the passageway Pike had just come from.
“Thank you.” Cain replied, his tone softened but still firm.
“Nice seeing you again.” Williams said turning to Pike. “We’ll have to get together after all this hullabaloo is over.” He nodded to Pike and turned to walk with Cain but before they took a step both men stopped. “What’s that sound?” Williams asked.
Pike listened and at first it sounded like someone had left a window open and you could hear the ocean outside. But then he felt a slight draft leaving the room as if a giant dragon had just taken a huge breath and sucked out all the air.
Then the dragon breathed.
Pike turned and looking down the dark passageway, he saw a light like that of a train coming out of a tunnel and he heard what he could only describe as the sound of rushing wind.
Horrified, Pike suddenly realized what was happening as the expression on his face must have shown. He remembered seeing Cain and Williams looking at him with a have-you-lost-your-mind look on their faces. He also remembered shouting something, then diving towards them, a blinding flash of light and a searing wave of heat, then nothing.
When he opened his eyes again, his vision was blurry and had slowed down to one
blink at a time and his hearing was muffled, like his ears were stuffed with cotton. He felt hot and cold at the same time and couldn’t figure out why. Off in the distance, he thought he could make out the sounds of shouting but it sounded like it was coming from the far side of the moon.
As the fog began to lift, he realized that he was lying face down on the floor. How did he get on the floor in the first place? Slowly he raised up to one elbow and looked to his left where he saw a man lying next to him, he thought it was Cain but wasn’t sure. Propping himself up on his other elbow, he turned to his right and saw another man lying on the ground. He was wearing the same jacket that the Senator had on only it was on fire. ON FIRE!
In the blink of an eye, as if someone had flicked on a switch, Pike’s senses were back to normal, and then some. He thought that he could actually feel the adrenaline shooting through his veins like water through a fire hose.
Pike saw that Williams’ back and his left pant leg was on fire. Pike got to his knees and started patting the flames out. By now, the reporters had poured back into the room, having heard the explosion, cameras blazing. Tabatha and Toupee man rushed over to where Williams lay.
Instinct took over and Pike would later regret it as much as he did throwing the baseball. Being unsuccessful at putting the flames out with his hands, he reached up and tore the toupee off the reporter’s head and began using the hairpiece to beat the flames into submission. Despite the severity and chaos of the situation, Pike heard Tabatha stifle a giggle when he grabbed the toupee. He had not intending to embarrass the man; he just wanted to put the flames out.
“What the hell are you doing?” Williams grumbled as Pike was beating on him. The Senator rolled over and was about to let more colorful expletives fly when he saw the cameras pointing at him. His expression immediately changed from anger to a well-practiced look of unknowing innocence. “What happened?” He asked. This time it was not an act, sincere confusion was in his voice.”