The Suulutaq Mine had a lot to answer for and it wasn‘t even in production yet.

Nineteen

The next couple of days were quiet and uneventful. Jim talked to Lyda Blue‘s people and discovered that the pistol had belonged to her mother and that so far as they knew Lyda had never shot it. Probably never cleaned it, either, Jim told Kate. Allen‘s lucky it didn‘t blow up in his hand. He added, And if that damn bear had left enough of his hand we could have tested it for gunshot residue and proved at least part of your theory.

Are you interviewing people at the mine?

Yeah.

It going anywhere?

No.

With each passing day, and no new clues in the death of Lyda Blue, Kate knew a steadily increasing sense of failure.

And the summer had begun with such promise. Of course, her downturn in spirits could also be attributed in part to the approach of the dread NNA board of directors meeting. Kate and Annie had put together an agenda, and had discussed weapons and tactics. It was summer, after all. Maybe Demetri would be up at his lodge, and Old Sam down Alaganik way. Maybe someone would have burned Ulanie Anahonak at the stake. Her heart warmed at the thought.

Yes, maybe they‘d have the minimum quorum allowed by amended bylaw, so as to produce the maximum peace.

She could only hope.

How many designs for the new NNA logo now, Ms. Mike? Kate said. Annie Mike, sitting erect at the small table in the corner, tapped some keys on her computer. One hundred and thirty-seven. Fifty-two of them are from the same three shareholders.

There was a rustle around the table, but everyone was too afraid that Dominatrix Kate would rule them out of order if they spoke and so they maintained a prudent silence. With the exception of Old Sam, who said, Yeah, and how many are worth the board looking at ‘em? Five? Wait, what am I saying. Any?

Out of order, Mr. Dementieff, Kate said, but her voice lacked the edge it did whenever anyone else spoke without being recognized. He grinned at her, unapologetic.

Besides, he was right. Kate had seen the submissions, and the art displayed therein was, well, amateurish at best. She looked down at the mug sitting at her right hand, which boasted the current logo, a Rorschach blot of barely distinguishable Alaskan icons in busy black. I move that we commission a professional artist to come up with a design for a new logo, she said. I have a name in mind, and I have a sample of his work. Annie got up and passed out Gaea brochures. McKenzie had made good on his promise to send her the artist‘s name, who by a miracle had turned out not only to be local but to be Alaska Native as well. She wasn‘t Aleut and she wasn‘t an NNA shareholder, but you couldn‘t have everything.

Demetri looked up from the brochure. You turning into a radical environmentalist on us, Kate? These folks can get pretty extreme, and they‘re saying a lot of not very nice things about the Suulutaq Mine.