This is their future, he said, indicating photographs of gigantic strip mines hung on the wall. Heavy equipment was crawling up and down their sides like tiny yellow and green ants. Some had raised their own dust storms. None of them were a pretty sight. They weren‘t meant to be.

I appreciate your passion and I respect your cause. But I can‘t allow ideology alone to push me for or against. She pulled out her phone and looked at the display. I appreciate the time you‘ve taken to show me your operation. She nodded at the door. I like your logo, too. Who was the artist?

More civil than friendly now, he said, I‘ll find out and get that name to you. Thanks.

And please, take a brochure, he said, snagging one off a nearby table. There‘s a form to fill out if you‘d like to join. We‘re an IRS-certified nonprofit 501(c)(3), which means we‘re deductible. Would you like to write us a check? We‘re happy to accept any amount, and for three dollars you get a lifetime membership, a subscription to the Gaea newsletter, and a mug. With the logo you like on it.

He escorted her to the door, and to everyone‘s surprise when he opened it Holly Haynes walked in. She saw Kate and her eyes widened.

Hi, there, Miss Haynes, McKenzie said with his attractive smile. Did you come to volunteer?

Kate laughed. McKenzie had a smart mouth.

Haynes looked from Kate to McKenzie and her expression hardened. No, I came here to complain about that commercial you‘ve been running that says we‘re dumping toxic mud into the groundwater that feeds into the Kanuyaq River. Kate left without waiting to hear McKenzie‘s answer. She climbed in the Subaru, checked her phone for messages, and left the parking lot.

A beige, four-door sedan fell in behind her and followed her all the way home.

Seventeen

She was up and dressed and on her second cup of coffee by seven o‘clock the following morning, staring out the window at the beige four-door sedan idling next to Westchester Lagoon. It had been there when she woke up, and it was still there an hour later.

The phone rang. It was Kurt. I got news. Come on down to the office. She stopped at City Market for three canelas and more coffee and drove downtown. The sedan followed at a discreet distance. She parked in the Captain Cook parking garage because Kurt had told her that he validated parking.

Agrifina greeted her with a reserved smile. Mr. Pletnikoff is expecting you, Ms. Shugak. Go right in.

Kate inclined her head in formal recognition of the power of the keeper of the keys. Thank you. Mrs. Podhoretz had nothing on Agrifina Fancyboy.

She pulled Kurt‘s door closed behind her and said, I swear, that girl out there thinks she‘s living in 1950.

I told you, she‘s channeling Lauren Bacall, only shorter. And, you know, Yupik. I brought her coffee and a pastry but I‘m scared to give them to her. She might think it‘s only something Thelma Ritter should do. And I‘m not that funny. Kurt rolled his eyes and delivered the goods himself. He came back in, grinning. Please tell Ms. Shugak it was very kind of her to think of me.‘