Read Arctic Fire Online

Authors: Paul Byers

Tags: #thriller, #adventure, #action, #seattle, #new york, #water crisis, #water shortage, #titanic, #methane gas, #iceberg, #f86 sabre, #f15, #mariners, #habakkuk, #86, #water facts, #methane hydrate, #sonic boom, #f15 eagle, #geoffrey pyke, #pykrete, #habbakuk, #jasper maskelyne, #maskelyne

Arctic Fire (12 page)

BOOK: Arctic Fire
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“Well.” Cain stood. “I must be going.”

Williams stood to shake his hand. “I will see
you there later. You know me, I have to arrive fashionably late to
get the best press coverage.” He smiled.

“Oh, you’re still planning on being my guest on
the iceberg aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good,” Cain replied and headed for the door. As
he was leaving he heard Williams shouting. “BOBBY…..”

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Twelve

 

 

 

Pike had just stepped out the front door of the
hotel and glanced down at his watch, 9:45 on the dot. As he looked
up, he saw the same black limousine that he’d seen at the airport
come gliding up to the curb. Before he had taken even three steps,
the doorman was already there, holding the door open and tipping
his hat, bidding him a good evening.

When he got in, Mallory was wearing a low cut
designer dress that made her look like a Hollywood starlet. Cain
looked like the all-powerful movie mogul.

“You look very handsome,” Mallory said, “if a
little uncomfortable.”

“I clean up well, and yes, black tie affairs are
not my strong suit, no pun intended.”

“A glass of champagne to help fortify you
against the perils of tonight?” Cain said, holding up a half full
crystal flute.

Pike took the flute then held it in his hands.
He hesitated for moment then spoke. “I don’t drink Mr. Cain, but
then from what I’ve seen so far, I suspect you already knew
that.”

Cain smiled. “You guessed correctly, Mr. Pike. I
like to know as much as possible about the people who work for me,
especially those in the public spotlight. I have a lot of money but
for a man in my position, there is one thing that is far more
valuable than cold hard cash—public perception.” Cain leaned back
and took a sip of champagne and then explained.

“I could have the cure for cancer in the palm of
my hand and be ready to give it away, but if the public perceives
it as some kind of trick or a way for me to make a quick, dishonest
buck, they’d fight me every step of the way, not only hurting
themselves but everyone else as well.

“Take this champagne for instance.” Cain said as
he held it up. “I can take it, put it in a cheap bottle, mass
produce it, advertise it as a “party drink” and make money. Or, I
can take the same champagne, put it in a nicer bottle, wrap it in a
fancy label and advertise it for the ‘discriminating, sophisticated
palate,’ charge only an arm for it instead of an arm and a leg,
again perception of a good value, and make even more money. Why?
Public perception is what drives the market place. If they perceive
that it’s a good value or good for them, they will accept it and
embrace it. If not, no amount of PR in the world will change their
mind.

“Right now, like it or not, you are the face of
this venture. So even though I am doing a great service to humanity
here by bringing them fresh water, if you were a fake or had a
hidden agenda, John Q. Public would look right past all the good
I’m trying to accomplish and focus on you. They would lose their
vision of the big picture and all the benefits by clouding their
minds with details that don’t have anything to do with the project.
All they would see is the wife beater or drug dealer and start to
wonder if a guy like that is doing the final inspection, how safe
can it really be? Why should we put our faith in you, Mr. Cain,
when you have people like that working for you?

“But to answer the question you are really
asking is, why did I offer it to you if I know you don’t drink? I
study humanity, the human condition if you will.” Cain put his
glass down and leaned forward, clearly pleased to be talking about
one of his favorite subjects.

“At first I used it as a strategy to get ahead
in the business world. If I could read the other person during a
negotiation then I held a huge advantage; I could either go in for
the kill or cut my losses and move on. But after a while it became
more than just a business tool. We are all creatures of habit, Mr.
Pike. If you take away our routines, our habits we find comfort in,
do we become different creatures? If you are out of your element,
do you adapt and change to your new surroundings or do you hold
steadfast to your old ways?”

“So you want to see if people’s behaviors change
with their circumstances?” Pike said, holding up the glass. “Are
you talking about situational ethics? Are good people good only
because they have to be in their circumstance or because they
really are? Or are you more interested in a version of the Chaos
Theory or Butterfly Effect?”

Mallory set down her glass and joined in the
conversation. “Chaos? Let me tell you about what I know about the
Chaos Theory. My wedding, oh my gosh. It was the hottest day of the
year and all the flowers were starting to wilt. The caterer was
there in plenty of time to set up…with the
wrong
food! So
they had to rush back and get the right order and they had to set
up during our vows. Nothing is more romantic than saying I love you
punctuated by the sound of a ladle banging inside a steel pot. The
wedding cake was stuck in traffic and by the time it arrived, it
looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa; and that’s not all.” She
said, taking another drink.

“One of my Bride’s Maids got frisky with one of
the Groomsmen the night before and she had hickeys all over her
neck, and I mean ALL over. And to top it all off, I grabbed the
wrong make-up; I thought I was putting on the waterproof mascara.
Wrong! So when I started crying, my mascara ran all down my face
and I looked like Alice Cooper.”

Mallory punctuated the story with another drink,
a big drink, reliving the
joy
of her wedding. Pike and Cain
both looked at each other, then at Mallory, and then burst into
laughter. Mallory shot both of them a hard stare and instantly a
silence so profound filled the limousine, you could hear the
proverbial pin drop.

She tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t.
The hard stare turned into a twinkle and all three exploded in
laughter. “Chaos, yeah I know about your Chaos Theory,” Mallory
said, “but I’ve never heard about the Butterfly Effect.”

“The basic idea is that seemingly small,
unrelated events can have huge and dramatic effects on one
another.” Cain began. “The thought is, that as a butterfly flaps
its wings, it’s creating tiny changes in the atmosphere and that
these tiny changes could ultimately alter the path of a tornado.
The flapping of the wings is the spark that ignites the chain of
events. So, if the butterfly hadn’t have flapped its wings, the
storm might not have moved or maybe not even existed at all.”

“Or, in this case,” Pike said as he raised his
glass that started the whole conversation, “No spinning of the
moral compass, no chaos or butterflies…simply good manners.”

Cain smiled as raised his glass. “Touché.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Thirteen

 

 

 

Prepare yourself.” Mallory patted Pike on the
knee as the limousine pulled in front of the hotel.

“Oh he’ll do just fine.” Cain said as they
rolled to a stop and he popped open the door. Immediately he was
assaulted by a barrage of reporters and flashbulbs. Cain turned and
held out his hand and helped Mallory out; another wave of lighting
erupted from the cameras.

Pike didn’t want to move; he felt safe and
protected in his little cocoon. Suddenly he had an odd thought. Is
this what a baby feels like right before birth? Not wanting to
leave the safety and comfort of the womb for the big unknown? In
this case, he knew he definitely didn’t want to walk toward the
light. But life wouldn’t wait, and in this case neither would Cain.
Pike took a deep breath and emerged into his “new” life and once
again night was turned into day by the flashes.

They were standing on the literal red carpet
with gold stanchions on either side, linked with red velvet ropes
that led from the car to the hotel entrance. Pike was paralyzed by
the moment, trying to take it all in. Looking up, he could see
three large grid works hanging from the front of the building right
above the entrance, showcased by bright lights. Perched on the
center of the foyer roof, welcoming all visitors, was a larger than
life statue of a silver winged angel. Looking at it, he was
reminded of a giant hood ornament. Above the angel in bright gold
letters was the name of the hotel, Waldorf-Astoria.

While working and living the Seattle area, he
was used to the big city but this was getting to be a bit too much
to take in. Not only was he actually staying at the famous Plaza
hotel, here he was standing on the red carpet, attending a charity
event at the equally famous Waldorf-Astoria. The only thing his
brain could relate this to was watching the Oscars on TV. Only he
wasn’t watching it, he was living it. He gazed over the vast sea of
people, heads bobbing up and down like the tide, all struggling to
get a glimpse of whoever the next limousine would disgorge, taking
pictures or shouting out questions in hopes of being heard. As he
stared at the sea of faces, it suddenly occurred to him, that there
was not one person here he wouldn’t consider beautiful, they all
looked so perfect.

The men, all in their finely tailored suits and
tuxedos were dressed to the nines and the women were dressed up for
each other as much as for the camera, clothed in exquisite evening
gowns that he bet cost more than a year’s salary for him. Even the
reporters looked good in their tuxedos and low cut evening gowns.
There was probably more silicon here than in Silicon Valley Pike
thought to himself.

“Breathe.” Mallory said, taking Pike by the arm
and gently urging him forward. Even though they were walking
through the roped off section, the reporters were still pressing
in, shoving the microphones in his face as if anything he had to
say would be newsworthy.

Cain was leading the way, fielding questions and
running interference. Pike felt like a running back picking his way
through the defenders with the goal in sight. Just ten more feet
and they would be at the revolving door, then home free. Just as he
thought he might get through the line untouched, he was blindsided
by an over anxious reporter who took the rope and stanchions with
him as he leaned in and grabbed Pike by the arm.

Pike looked at him for moment and then the light
of recognition turn on. The reporter smiled, pleased that Pike had
recognized him. Pike recognized him all right…Toupee Man!

“Mr. Pike. Is this giant iceberg that Mr. Cain
wants to bring into New York harbor really safe? Aren’t there major
environmental and safety issues here?”

You’re
about to have a major safety issue
here, Pike wanted to say but didn’t. “I don’t know about the
environmental issues.” Pike replied flatly. “All I’m concerned
about is the safety issues and from what I’ve seen so far, there
shouldn’t be any reason for concern. Now if you will excuse us.”
Pike pushed the microphone away with his left hand and guided
Mallory through with his right, as they continued on and
disappeared into the hotel.

When they were safely in the confines of the
hotel, Mallory turned to Pike. “I know you don’t like the press
Gabe, but your answers shouldn’t be so curt.”

“On the contrary.” Cain said as he joined them.
“They’re animals tonight,” he said as he straightened up his
jacket.

Mallory looked at him. “You love it,
Ringmaster.”

Cain just smiled and nodded his head in
acknowledgment. “As I was saying, Gabriel, your answer back there
was perfect.”

“And what do you mean by perfect?” Mallory
asked. “How so? You’ve always said that we need the press and we
have to woo them. Gabe’s answer sounded more like wham, bam, thank
you ma’am.”

Pike stifled a chuckle as Cain continued. “The
press expect schmoozing from you or I, not from Gabriel here. He
gave the no-nonsense-down-to-business answer that an engineer would
give. If he would have given the politically correct answer then
they, the public, would begin to lose their trust in him and begin
to doubt his authenticity and credibility.”

Pike looked at Mallory and puffed up his chest a
little and sported a small smirk.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Mallory said,
“you just got lucky this time.”

“True enough, but I’d rather be lucky than
good.”

“Now, now children,” Cain interjected, “I can’t
take you two anywhere.”

“I’m hungry, let’s go eat.” Mallory said in mock
indignation and started walking up the stairs. Cain and Pike
followed but after a few steps, Pike slowed. As he ascended the
stairs, the true elegance of the hotel began to be revealed.
Hanging in the lobby was a massive chandelier surrounded on the
wall by ten huge murals.

Reaching the top of the stairs, the room opened
and Pike found himself standing on an eighteen-foot circular
mosaic. He couldn’t help but stare at his surroundings. He felt
like a tourist gawking at the sites but the detail and
craftsmanship were just too great to dismiss with a simple, passing
glance.

“Living here, sometimes we take things for
granted.” Cain said, standing beside Pike.

“The architectural design and attention to
detail is magnificent.” Pike said.

“The murals and the mosaic are all the work of
the renowned French artist Louis Rigal. It took him over a year to
complete all the murals and there are over 148,000 pieces of marble
in his famous
Wheel of Life
mosaic. The Waldorf was the
largest hotel in the world when it opened in 1931. Come on.” Cain
said, with a tilt of his head. “I want to show you the best part in
the main lobby.”

Main Lobby? Pike thought. This isn’t the main
lobby? He followed Cain, wondering what could be better than this.
Within a few moments, he had his answer. Standing before him in the
center of the lobby was a nine-foot tall monster that weighed
nearly two tons.

BOOK: Arctic Fire
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ads

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