Whitewash (30 page)

EchoEnergy

The heat and humidity had returned full force as if making up for the weekend reprieve. Sabrina’s linen shirt was already sticking to her as soon as she left the air-conditioned building. Though rarely without her lab jacket, she was grateful to have left it behind. She had snatched her security key card from the pocket and grabbed the rental-car keys, debating whether a quick drive to the back lot would attract less attention. Now, as she wiped the sweat from her forehead and pushed back her damp hair, she wished she had driven the car across the park.

She avoided the sidewalk along the plant where the last tanker trucks of the day hissed and rumbled while hoses emptied or filled them. Instead, Sabrina took a path through the landscaped courtyard between the large sprawl of corrugated-steel buildings and catwalks that made up the administration buildings and the processing plant. The courtyard included benches, stone paths and a well-irrigated array of blooming landscape that had been Sidel’s attempt to complete his small-town vision for the industrial park. But Sabrina had never seen any employees eating lunch or holding meetings as Sidel may have hoped. She suspected the courtyard was still too close to the noise and the smells—a combination of bio diesel fumes, and on the hottest of days, fried liver.

Lansik had told Sabrina that within the last year EchoEnergy had installed a million dollars’ worth of equipment to tackle the odors after several ex-employees threatened to file lawsuits. At the time Lansik seemed annoyed by the complaints, telling Sabrina the odors were a nuisance but not a danger to anyone’s health.

“If I knew there was a risk I would have taken measures immediately,” Lansik had said, genuinely offended. The entire process, and thus the plant, had become for Lansik an extension of himself. It wasn’t unusual. Sabrina had recognized the occupational hazard with her father every time he invented something.

Which gave Sabrina all the more reason to believe Lansik would never have allowed a mistake to go unchecked or uncorrected. Nor would he resign and leave without a word to his team. Sabrina knew that EchoEnergy’s vision was as much Dwight Lansik’s as it was William Sidel’s. Maybe that was what bothered her so much. She wouldn’t expect Sidel to share with them a falling-out that the two men may have had, but it didn’t seem right that Sidel would be so nonchalant about it, either.

She left the courtyard and also left any hint of shade. No one dared to venture out in the afternoon heat so close to quitting time. It looked like Sabrina would have the whole parking lot to herself. Even security would be staying in their air-conditioned outposts.

She followed the pipeline along the concrete edge of the lot. The pipeline continued and disappeared into tall scrub grass and thick pine forest. Maybe she was being a bit ridiculous. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting or even what she was willing to do. Her face and bare arms were slick with sweat and she could feel trickles sliding down her back. She glanced down at her leather flats, black trousers and white linen shirt. She had six identical outfits in her closet. She could spare to ruin one. Though in the back of her mind she could hear her mother’s voice, scolding her for not taking better care of herself or her appearance. There were too many more important decisions to be made. And finding out why a clean-water pipeline had become clogged was one of those.

Except that her mother’s memory distracted her. She was thinking of her mother more often the last several days, brought on, of course, by her father’s hallucinations and her own car accident. Neither was a pleasant reminder. Remembering her mother’s lecture about clothing was actually a welcome change.

Even if she wanted to, Sabrina could never duplicate her mother’s fashion extravaganzas. For one thing she didn’t have her mother’s silky dark hair and dark brown eyes with a bronze complexion that certainly helped to make lime green and pink work well together. Eric had inherited their mother’s looks and the charm that went along with them. Sabrina favored her father—fair skin, blue eyes and light-colored hair that couldn’t really be called blond or brown. Even the way Sabrina wore her hair—carelessly down and straight with no attention to style—would cause her mother to shake her head and sigh. Once when she saw Sabrina getting ready for a run, pulling back her hair into a tight ponytail and plopping on a baseball cap, her mother almost refused to let her leave.

“You certainly can’t go out in public like that,” she had told Sabrina in her dramatic manner that gave meaning to too many things that should not justify such theatrics. But that was her mother and as if in tribute to the woman she missed with an ache that felt as physical as mental, Sabrina bent down to roll up her pant cuffs. She wasn’t sure that it would save them from ruin, but she knew that to bother would please her mother.

Her leather flats were history. Sabrina was certain of that after only a few steps into the marshy scrub grass. She followed the pipeline, navigating carefully. She searched for the ninety-degree angle that shifted the pipe’s flow directly down to the river. Not an easy search. Grass and vines had grown up around it so that only pieces of white showed through and it became like hunting for broken fragments. Sabrina checked the time. This was taking longer than she expected. She’d be late getting to Reactor #5 to meet Ernie Walker.

Finally she heard a gurgling sound. And before she saw where the pipe turned, Sabrina could see a puddle where the clogged elbow was leaking. She felt her stomach twist into knots. The puddle was a murky orange, not clear.

She pulled away vines, fallen twigs and pine needles, revealing the muddy elbow. Suddenly she didn’t care about dirty pant cuffs or sludge on her hands. She pried and tugged at the release hatch, breaking a fingernail, but not stopping until she felt the metal trapdoor swing open. The spray made her jump back, but it was too late. Her white shirt blossomed with a rust-colored stain. She wiped at her face as she came back for a closer look, relieved to see that opening the latch had been enough to disengage the clog. Clear water now flowed out of the elbow and Sabrina used the heel of her hand to slam the latch against the force of the water. Her fingers were shaking when she secured the release lever.

Even at a glance the contents of the clog made her knees weak. She found a stick to poke at the glob that glittered with chunks of metal embedded in pieces of what Sabrina could only imagine must be unprocessed feedstock.

Sidel was wrong. This looked like Grade 2 garbage. Sabrina fumbled through her trouser pockets, coming up with only an empty plastic sandwich bag from lunch. Using the stick, she scooped up a sample of the sludge into the bag. She stopped when she dislodged a disk of metal about the size of a quarter. There was no way Sidel could deny Grade 2 garbage when she showed him this. Sabrina shoved the metal disk into the bag.

She cleaned her hands on the grass and made her way back to the parking lot. She was a mess and she was late.

EchoEnergy

The heat and humidity had returned full force as if making up for the weekend reprieve. Sabrina’s linen shirt was already sticking to her as soon as she left the air-conditioned building. Though rarely without her lab jacket, she was grateful to have left it behind. She had snatched her security key card from the pocket and grabbed the rental-car keys, debating whether a quick drive to the back lot would attract less attention. Now, as she wiped the sweat from her forehead and pushed back her damp hair, she wished she had driven the car across the park.

She avoided the sidewalk along the plant where the last tanker trucks of the day hissed and rumbled while hoses emptied or filled them. Instead, Sabrina took a path through the landscaped courtyard between the large sprawl of corrugated-steel buildings and catwalks that made up the administration buildings and the processing plant. The courtyard included benches, stone paths and a well-irrigated array of blooming landscape that had been Sidel’s attempt to complete his small-town vision for the industrial park. But Sabrina had never seen any employees eating lunch or holding meetings as Sidel may have hoped. She suspected the courtyard was still too close to the noise and the smells—a combination of bio diesel fumes, and on the hottest of days, fried liver.

Lansik had told Sabrina that within the last year EchoEnergy had installed a million dollars’ worth of equipment to tackle the odors after several ex-employees threatened to file lawsuits. At the time Lansik seemed annoyed by the complaints, telling Sabrina the odors were a nuisance but not a danger to anyone’s health.

“If I knew there was a risk I would have taken measures immediately,” Lansik had said, genuinely offended. The entire process, and thus the plant, had become for Lansik an extension of himself. It wasn’t unusual. Sabrina had recognized the occupational hazard with her father every time he invented something.

Which gave Sabrina all the more reason to believe Lansik would never have allowed a mistake to go unchecked or uncorrected. Nor would he resign and leave without a word to his team. Sabrina knew that EchoEnergy’s vision was as much Dwight Lansik’s as it was William Sidel’s. Maybe that was what bothered her so much. She wouldn’t expect Sidel to share with them a falling-out that the two men may have had, but it didn’t seem right that Sidel would be so nonchalant about it, either.

She left the courtyard and also left any hint of shade. No one dared to venture out in the afternoon heat so close to quitting time. It looked like Sabrina would have the whole parking lot to herself. Even security would be staying in their air-conditioned outposts.

She followed the pipeline along the concrete edge of the lot. The pipeline continued and disappeared into tall scrub grass and thick pine forest. Maybe she was being a bit ridiculous. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting or even what she was willing to do. Her face and bare arms were slick with sweat and she could feel trickles sliding down her back. She glanced down at her leather flats, black trousers and white linen shirt. She had six identical outfits in her closet. She could spare to ruin one. Though in the back of her mind she could hear her mother’s voice, scolding her for not taking better care of herself or her appearance. There were too many more important decisions to be made. And finding out why a clean-water pipeline had become clogged was one of those.

Except that her mother’s memory distracted her. She was thinking of her mother more often the last several days, brought on, of course, by her father’s hallucinations and her own car accident. Neither was a pleasant reminder. Remembering her mother’s lecture about clothing was actually a welcome change.

Even if she wanted to, Sabrina could never duplicate her mother’s fashion extravaganzas. For one thing she didn’t have her mother’s silky dark hair and dark brown eyes with a bronze complexion that certainly helped to make lime green and pink work well together. Eric had inherited their mother’s looks and the charm that went along with them. Sabrina favored her father—fair skin, blue eyes and light-colored hair that couldn’t really be called blond or brown. Even the way Sabrina wore her hair—carelessly down and straight with no attention to style—would cause her mother to shake her head and sigh. Once when she saw Sabrina getting ready for a run, pulling back her hair into a tight ponytail and plopping on a baseball cap, her mother almost refused to let her leave.

“You certainly can’t go out in public like that,” she had told Sabrina in her dramatic manner that gave meaning to too many things that should not justify such theatrics. But that was her mother and as if in tribute to the woman she missed with an ache that felt as physical as mental, Sabrina bent down to roll up her pant cuffs. She wasn’t sure that it would save them from ruin, but she knew that to bother would please her mother.

Her leather flats were history. Sabrina was certain of that after only a few steps into the marshy scrub grass. She followed the pipeline, navigating carefully. She searched for the ninety-degree angle that shifted the pipe’s flow directly down to the river. Not an easy search. Grass and vines had grown up around it so that only pieces of white showed through and it became like hunting for broken fragments. Sabrina checked the time. This was taking longer than she expected. She’d be late getting to Reactor #5 to meet Ernie Walker.

Finally she heard a gurgling sound. And before she saw where the pipe turned, Sabrina could see a puddle where the clogged elbow was leaking. She felt her stomach twist into knots. The puddle was a murky orange, not clear.

She pulled away vines, fallen twigs and pine needles, revealing the muddy elbow. Suddenly she didn’t care about dirty pant cuffs or sludge on her hands. She pried and tugged at the release hatch, breaking a fingernail, but not stopping until she felt the metal trapdoor swing open. The spray made her jump back, but it was too late. Her white shirt blossomed with a rust-colored stain. She wiped at her face as she came back for a closer look, relieved to see that opening the latch had been enough to disengage the clog. Clear water now flowed out of the elbow and Sabrina used the heel of her hand to slam the latch against the force of the water. Her fingers were shaking when she secured the release lever.

Even at a glance the contents of the clog made her knees weak. She found a stick to poke at the glob that glittered with chunks of metal embedded in pieces of what Sabrina could only imagine must be unprocessed feedstock.

Sidel was wrong. This looked like Grade 2 garbage. Sabrina fumbled through her trouser pockets, coming up with only an empty plastic sandwich bag from lunch. Using the stick, she scooped up a sample of the sludge into the bag. She stopped when she dislodged a disk of metal about the size of a quarter. There was no way Sidel could deny Grade 2 garbage when she showed him this. Sabrina shoved the metal disk into the bag.

She cleaned her hands on the grass and made her way back to the parking lot. She was a mess and she was late.