53 Miles West of Venus Ch. 05

"They've got television there, but more importantly there will be lots of pretty girls in grass skirts, and not wearing much else, so there are certain rewards."

"If your life expectations are that low, more power to you! As for me, I'd have preferred a night with a tall slender blonde of breeding and culture, some live Mozart and some wine that actually has been aged properly in a cellar with a real wooden cork! Each to their own."

I thought Ted was going to walk right out of there to his ride without saying another word but he had one last gem of outraged bile left to purge and share with me.

"Our work, the family business... there just isn't any end to it. It has consumed our grandparents, then our parents and now us. Where does it all end, Dave? Where does the debt of loyalty that our grandparents had to 'the cause' end? Not with our parents... or with us, either? When will they send us to Africa or god knows where else to fight the good fight until we get unmarked graves as well? And what about our children, will they get trapped by all of this too, now and forever? When will it ever end... when will the old man in the wheel chair say 'enough' and let us all go and enjoy our own lives and not keep living his? Someday it's all going to go too far or get to be just too much for any of us. For me... or even for you. Where does it all end?"

I didn't have an answer to that. I could sort of see the big picture to pits of the 'family business', some of them anyway, but not all of the how's and why's. Not in my pay grade or else I just didn't have the need to know. Wheels may have found my grandfather to be essential to all of his plans and activities but he didn't have those sorts of needs for me. I usually found ignorance to be slightly comforting but Ted did raise more than a few items of concern. If you needed a minion to suicidally hold off the endless hordes for just another minute or two with a tommy gun, I could probably be your man... assuming that you could explain to me exactly what my sacrifice was going to accomplish and that some ends do indeed justify the means. But please use small direct words and don't shower me with bullshit!

What was the real end game? Just how many 'pawns' was old Doc Wilder willing to use or sacrifice to get there? At least 'Renny' got to become a king on a South Seas island paradise, but the rest of the younger generation of our extended family was maybe running out of fucks to give. I certainly didn't have a fucking clue, so I turned my brain off and went to bed.

*********************

The EPA inspection was safely done and over with, but we still had lots of Code Orange stuff left to do. With luck and a lot of team work done this weekend, we'd have everything packed and loaded for one last trainload out by next Tuesday. A couple of trucks could take out all the rest, mostly mundane equipment and stuff that either Littlejohn or Roberts could use in their own operations. Waste not... money was squeaky tight for everyone. We should remain trouble-free until after that, I hoped and prayed... and for once the Fates and luck were with us, and the last of our proprietary equipment and materials were soon safely out of our nervous hands and off to Mexico enroute to the island paradise of Poravuvu.

I was certain that I would never hear from Fredericka ever again, but she called me that very next Wednesday morning asking if she could come for a job interview that Friday. We didn't need a geologist now... but I told her yes to come anyway. I'm still not sure why... and it certainly made my weekly Wednesday afternoon conference call to corporate a lot more interesting than it should have been.

We actually, sort of, did need a geologist, even just a borrowed one for a week or two. It wasn't for much really, just a last bit of unfinished mine stratigraphy that Peggy's ex hadn't quite finished up before he left us in a huff a couple of years ago. Something that we'd sort of promised Littlejohn that we'd finish up for them but hadn't gotten to because it actually wasn't really all that important to begin with. Frankly by this point, no one at Littlejohn really cared much either and they live and breathe stratigraphy stuff. Rock porn at its very best, or so I've been laughingly told.

For the purposes of bringing in Fredi, this was really my one and only card worth playing. It also violated, technically, my Code Orange parameters by bringing in a new 'outsider' as a contractor and while I love bending rules rather creatively just for the amusement of it, I'm actually pretty good about not really breaking them with indiscriminate impunity. Security had also just completed their background investigation of Fredericka as well... which confused the issue of hiring her even more and turned what ought to have been a relatively simple decision making process into a near random coin-flip.

During the three hour conference call the issue of hiring her ought to have been a minor and quite unimportant line item at the bottom of our agenda but instead it was debated top to bottom and even sideways, with my direct corporate boss being against the hire and his counterpart at Littlejohn being for her. I pitched my case for her early and quite dispassionately and then mostly kept my mouth shut. I had to stay neutral but I think that everyone knew my opinion on the issue. That left the tie-breaker for the decision to our joint legal department, in the vote of Ted Brooks. He still hadn't made it back to New York City, being stuck now in California at the Roberts Electronics corporate offices for at least another week or so. He didn't sound even remotely happy about this.

"My job, as your lawyer, is to advise you as to the best means of reducing your risks. This means in practice saying 'no' to virtually anything and everything, because even getting out of bed in the morning is risky. Bringing in this woman, as you've heard from the report that security has provided on their investigation of her, will absolutely certainly increase our risks... but it also provides us with unexpected opportunities as well. That's the crux of the legal issue before us now - risk vs. reward... and I'm inclined to side with Dave that bringing her in at this very late and dangerous time does have the potential for several perhaps unexpected benefits. If nothing else, Littlejohn can finally receive a few rather long overdue and largely inconsequential reports that I'm sure will fill some dusty box in a dark basement for generations yet to come. There will be danger... but there is also opportunity here. For the record, I vote 'Yes', bring her on-board.

Now that was unexpected! I'd heard (and read) the security report too, and it was unsettling, but not without an angle or two that we could use. Brooks had given it the vibe of 'keeping your friends close and your enemies even closer'. Probably true but he wasn't going to be here when the unfriendly mercenaries came storming the gates like Goth hordes. A near certain reality that was perhaps only weeks away from occurring.

My friend's vote had been the tie-breaker and I was given verbal approval to bring her in as a limited contractor for just this short term project, to finish up the remaining geological reports for Littlejohn. By the time she actually arrived at a few minutes before nine o'clock that Friday morning I was having more than a few second thoughts myself.

Fredericka was going to be trouble... but she was also heart-stoppingly lovely trouble!

******************

When they paged me in my office to announce that Fredi had arrived, I rushed upstairs to the security office to better get a first look at her. She was driving an old Ford pickup truck that might have been gold or yellowish originally but now had enough of a crust of West Texas dirt upon it to make any accurate color prediction fairly impossible. From my initial look at her as she climbed out of the truck I could tell that she was tired, maybe exhausted even, as if she had driven all night straight non-stop to get here. I didn't doubt that. She paused briefly to quickly pull off the t-shirt she had been wearing while driving and button on a fresh white blouse that had hung from a coat hanger in the back seat, along with a navy blue jacket. It looked like there were several boxes or suitcases in the back seat as well, and several other visible boxes in the bed of the truck. Fredi had apparently come to formally and properly interview and then to stay.

She looked obviously nervous and paused to look at our Ops building with apparent trepidation for a full minute before taking a deep breath and approaching to ring the bell for entrance. I let security answer it and I rushed down to my office to start pretending that I was busy doing something important and wasn't as eager to see her again as I actually really was. Onan was sound asleep and I didn't bother to wake him.

"For starters, it's rather nice to see you again," she exclaimed as she shook my hand before sitting down in my office guest chair, "but before we discuss anything else I wanted you to read this... this is a copy of my final report to the EPA about the inspection last week. You can just skim the executive summary on the front page and then read my final conclusions on the last one. It's very straightforward... there were certainly no Class A violations, or any other kind, to be found on these premises in my professional opinion."

It was. It was a bit technical for my limited education in the geosciences but the summary and conclusion pages were quite clear enough. There was absolutely no grounds for any EPA action to be found in our mine, Class A or otherwise.

"I can imagine that the EPA won't be too terribly pleased." I remarked casually as I skimmed over a few other random pages.

"They aren't. I hand delivered my report to them on Tuesday and Ms. Whitehurst all but assured me that my expense report and invoice for contract fees will be forwarded to their processing office in El Salvador for expedited processing, meaning that my invoices will be misfiled and then eventually lost and that I should expect reimbursement in about six to eight years... or more likely never."

"I hope you got at least some up-front money." I chuckled.

"An advance check, which that I've already deposited and mostly spent. Now I'd guess that in a week or two my bank is going to report it as having a stop payment order issued on it."

"No bets." I agreed. "And so you are now here."

"Here and now... and flat broke. My VISA card is maxed out and if wasn't for my gas card I couldn't have filled up the tank in the truck twice to get here. Do you know what gas is selling at the pump for now? It's insane... a pair of fill-up's for the truck cost almost as much as my apartment rent! Let me get straight to the point - I'm broke and have almost no clue how I'll get home if I'm not hired! Truthfully, I've got one other potential job offer, with some interesting folks at AIS... but I'd much rather hear your offer." She shrugged unapologetically. This was essentially blackmail with not much beating about the bush about it.

"So, make you an offer that you can't refuse or else you'll be having a rather interesting discussion with AIS about our graphite?"

"Rather more likely about some rather interesting properties of graphene... and silk, but I think you'll find that I'm not in the mood to refuse anything resembling a reasonable offer. Honestly, I would much rather work for you than for AIS. What you're doing here, or were doing here, is certainly far more interesting than what AIS is likely to do here instead if they took control. You didn't give me many clues to work with, but I think I know exactly what you're up to, but perhaps not exactly why. Try me..."

She was smart... and a pip! Probably quite smart enough to find just a few odd colored puzzle pieces and figure out exactly what the picture was of.

"I'm only interested right now in two things..." I started to say before Onan, just now waking up from his early morning bird-nap piped in loudly.

"Titties and beer! Titties and beer!" He gleefully chirped, not altogether inaccurately, eyeing the lovely geologist with obvious interest. Onan's knowledge of raunchy Frank Zappa songs was encyclopedic.

"Ah... no, but rather if you would sign this rather comprehensive and possibly unethically overreaching and probably legal non-disclosure agreement and this contract employment contract of unfortunately extremely short duration and possessing even fewer employee legal protections. Although, most of the women here do view the constant sexual harassment as a job benefit."

She signed both without reading either of them except to look for where to put her initials and signatures. Yeah, she was broke and desperate alright!

"Now," she smiled, "there are two things that you should know."

"That you're thirsty for a beer and it's titty-squeezing time?"

"And... that the first thing you should know about the 'wise woman' is that... she's wise!"

"And the second thing is... that's she's also woman? Astounding! Who'd have thought it!" I laughed. A woman that could quote Zappa and Blackadder couldn't be all bad in my book.

"How'd you guess? Now that I've signed your NDA and probably all the rights to my uterus and first-born child as well, let me tell you what I think I know about your operation and how I might fit in.

"Guess away, but our project is pretty much done here. We're a test site and at this point Littlejohn just wants a few remaining stratigraphy reports. Maybe two weeks of work, three if you're very lucky. Strictly contract until completion of the project, but Littlejohn's footing the bill and your fee might even cover your credit card bills and the completion bonus might just cover another tank or two of gas. Anyway, welcome aboard... for the next week or two anyway."

We both sort of shrugged at each other and I got up from behind my desk and she followed.

"Let's take the elevator down to Two so that I can show you to your office, temporary as it is, and on the way you can explain to me just what you think you've figured out about us and our operation.

Come to find out, she'd pretty much put the puzzle pieces together. Dangerously accurately enough to be worth another phone call to corporate security later on.

"It wasn't that hard really to figure out really," she laughed, "once I got home and could properly look up what scientific papers your main researchers had published in the past to gauge their specialties and interests. Claire is clearly one of the top handfuls of experts in the field of insect genetics and her PhD dissertation was on techniques of modifying spider's silk to make it stronger. Combine that with Dr. Trumble's, that is Peggy's, prior published work on infusing carbon fiber structures into cellulose, that is plant fibers, and how when eaten the structures can be passed through intact to the consuming host, I could tell just what the graphene was for... making super strong bio-carbon fibers from genetically modified silkworms producing silk ten times stronger than normal, like organically spun Kevlar!"

Got it in one. Except that this modified spider/silkworm thread was even better, being about twenty times the structural strength of Kevlar with a built-in genetic and infused carbon-nanotube reinforced structure. Sure we could make bulletproof garments from the silk threads... or weave them to make rope or cables 200 times stronger than similarly thick steel or titanium wire. Or producing a cable strong enough for even the mythical Atlas to lift and hold up the entire earth!

Fredi had a few good smart guesses about what our super-strong silk might and could be used for but most of them missed the mark by a comfortable distance. Super strong and light suspension bridges were certainly possible, but not quite the end goal. We were a research project, I reminded her. Commercial real-world applications of the technology were in someone else's pay grade, not mine. Ask me no direct questions and I won't give you any direct lies. If she had any other wild-eyed notions of our not-so ultimate goals she kept them to herself.

I showed her the old office where Peggy's ex the Geophysicist had kept his research notes and gave her his old laptop PC which had the most accurate and comprehensive 3D map of the entire mine tunnel system, along with his comments on stratigraphy. With the computerized map, I demonstrated to her, she could pretty easily find her way anywhere about the mine, even to some of the more remote tunnel areas that none of us had looked into for years, since Littlejohn had ceased mining. The dangerous areas, and there were a few of them, were all clearly marked and none of them really needed additional hands-on examination at this late stage anyway. At worst, she'd need a week or so to visit a few sections of the works that needed examining, giving her a week or even two (if we were all lucky) to spend mostly finalizing up existing partial reports into something more final and permanent for Littlejohn's geologists.

Nothing was off-limits to her. I'd given her carte blanche to go and look anywhere she wanted. Anything 'secret' was gone by now, hopefully either already either in Mexico or already on a boat to the South Pacific.

Fredericka didn't have too many questions as I took her down the elevator to Three so that I could show her where Peggy's office was. Nominally, since Littlejohn was funding her contract, Bryce should have been her boss, but since Peggy handled everything 'downstairs' she was nominally going to be her direct supervisor. This gave me time to offer up a few minor warnings.

"One of the things in the employment contract you signed was a provision releasing us from any claims of sexual harassment in the workplace. Frankly, I wasn't joking earlier; here it is considered to be a job benefit. I'm now the only male left around here, downstairs in the mine. Bryce stays up-top and with luck you'll only see him at mealtimes, unless he's moving out some mining carts from Level One. Our chef never comes downstairs, if he does tell someone and we'll shoot him... gleefully. That just leaves you and four other women... and they're all incorrigible perverts! You're going to be very, very popular, and very soon. So, if I were you, I'd either make it extremely clear to all of them right from the start that either you're not interested... or else that you might enjoy the sexual touch of another woman and go with the flow."

"But what if I would prefer a man's touch instead?" She giggled, fluttering her eyes at me as she grasped my hand.

"Well, then you're doomed to near certain disappointment. I'm the boss and need to keep some sort of boundaries, even if no one else around here does."

"Ok, so the girls just want to be with the girls, around here. Been there... college and graduate school. My school Agnes Scott openly promoted feminine nudity, lesbian orgies, and Sapphic sexual promiscuity, or at least they pretended hard not to notice how we worked off stress. The only time lipstick or eyeliner ever saw the light of day at school was when it was rumored that a man might be on campus - then you'd have thought some of those girls were preparing for the catwalk in Milan. Otherwise, most of the girls I knew at ASC were dating other girls from ASC. Still, I can deal with a few weeks of sexual suppression."

I sniggered. "Fine in theory, until you start drinking Peggy's special infused iced-tea blend. She brews it up in a big ten gallon water bottle for the big water dispenser right outside her office. Everyone drinks it, all day, every day. It's interesting stuff... an herbal blend of about seventeen different things that are all extremely healthy for you, like crazy level anti-oxidants, uber vitamin-C and other stuff guaranteed to lower your blood pressure and bad cholesterol numbers by at least twenty points. And... the flowers and stamens from a rather rare and lovely water lily found only on Poravuvu. It's rare, even on the island... and a tiny amount is sent to us every month as a gift from the Queen. It's vaguely related to the Sacred Lotus of Egypt and it has some slight recreational pharmacological qualities to it, the most noticeable side effect being that it's like Viagra for women... turns a timid wallflower into a nympho-maniacal slut in about week. Every time. You've been warned." I shrugged and changed the subject. No one ever believed me. They'd laugh or pretend to be embarrassed... and then they'd drink Peggy's potion anyway... and soon stop bothering to wear underwear. Every time.