Whisper To The Blood Part 32

TWENTY-SEVEN.

It snowed for Christmas, dry, fluffy flakes that piled up fast, twenty-eight inches in eighteen hours. Christmas Day dawned clear and cold, a beautiful morning. "Let's ski over to Mandy's after dinner," Kate said.

"Deal," Johnny said.

They even had a tree, small enough for one string of lights and a few bright ornaments, and topped with a tiny Eskimo doll in an exquisitely hand-worked sealskin kuspuk and mukluks that Annie Mike had given all the board members for Christmas. They'd agreed on the rules beforehand. There would be no singing of carols, no recitation of the Christmas story, and each of them was allowed to give the other only one gift. Kate gave Johnny a leather-bound atlas of Middle-earth, elaborately ill.u.s.trated and annotated, and Jim the four-book memoir by Gerald Durrell about growing up on Corfu between the World Wars, first editions Rachel had found for her on the Internet. Johnny gave Jim a Leatherman, the new Skeletool model. He gave Kate one, too. Jim gave Johnny a small telescope, an Astro-Venture 90mm, with its own spotting scope. "Your math better be up to this," he told him, "because mine isn't."

While Johnny stuttered in vain for something to say that might come close to expressing his surprise, his wonder, and his grat.i.tude, Jim turned to Kate and handed her a small, flat package wrapped clumsily in gold foil. A red peel-and-stick ribbon was stuck to one corner. "Merry Christmas," he said, the corner of his mouth kicking up in a half smile.

It was a copy of Robert's Rules of Order (Newly Revised, In Brief). Robert's Rules of Order (Newly Revised, In Brief). She opened it and read out loud, her voice breaking on the words, "'So You're Going to a Meeting.'" She closed the book and looked at him through misty eyes. "Oh, Jim." She opened it and read out loud, her voice breaking on the words, "'So You're Going to a Meeting.'" She closed the book and looked at him through misty eyes. "Oh, Jim."

He leaned over and kissed her. "Tear 'em up, babe."

Later they ate ham roasted with pineapple rings and cloves in a brown-sugar sauce, and after that they strapped on skis and went over the river and through the woods to see Mandy, who heard their laughter long before they arrived and was waiting for them at the door. "Hey, guys! Come on in, I've got pumpkin pie fresh out of the oven."

Chick was home, sober again and cheerful about it. The five of them sat down and tucked into pie and lingered over coffee, catching up on Park gossip and lying about their New Year's resolutions.

Chick gave Mandy a meaningful glance, and Mandy stirred in her chair. "Yeah," she said. "I've got some news of my own."

"Serve it up," Kate said, absorbed in picking up crust crumbs with a licked forefinger.

Mandy looked at Kate's bent head. "I'm the new Talia Macleod."

Kate went very still, one finger halfway between plate and mouth.

Into the silence Mandy said, "Global Harvest asked me a week or so after she died. I told them I had to think about it. Chick and I talked it over, and last week I said I would. I wanted you to hear before they made the announcement, or before Bobby finds out and puts it out on G.o.dd.a.m.n Park Air."

No one laughed.

"Anyway," Mandy said. "There'll be a press release after the first of the year."

There was a brief silence. As if they were propelled by marionette strings, everyone turned to look at Kate.

Kate licked the last of the crumbs from her finger and sat back. "Are you sure you want to do this, Mandy?"

Mandy shrugged. "No. But it's a big paycheck. And a chunk of stock."

"We heard about the stock," Jim said in a carefully neutral voice. "Hard to turn down something like that." "You need money?" Kate said.

Mandy shrugged. "This place takes a lot to keep it going. Like I told you in October, my trust fund never covers all of it. Whatever prize money I got for a race always helped." She put her hand over Chick's. "We don't want to live anywhere else. And besides." Mandy spread her hands. "They keep canceling the races, Kate, or delaying them. There's never enough snow anymore, or it all melts too soon and the trail just beats you to death. It was fifty-two degrees when we went through Cripple last year, did I tell you? Jesus. You can't run dogs at those temperatures."

She smiled at Mutt, sitting next to Kate, ears up, eyes inquiring. "And the compet.i.tion gets stiffer every year. Publicity's about ruined the Iditarod. Outsiders from Montana, Norwegians, for G.o.d's sake, even a blind musher. What the h.e.l.l's that about?" She sat back in her chair. "It's just not as much fun as it used to be."

And you aren't winning the way you used to, Kate thought, but she would have cut out her tongue before she said it out loud. "I told you I got shanghaied to be chair of the NNA board."

"You did," Mandy said, nodding.

"Lot of talk about that mine."

Mandy's smile had faded, too. "I know."

"Lot of people against it."

"Are you against it?" Mandy said.

Everyone looked at Kate again. "Not the point," Kate said. "What I'm saying, Mandy, is a lot of Park rats won't be happy you're the new mouthpiece for Global Harvest."

Mandy set her jaw. It was a good jaw, square and firm. "They'll get used to it."

We'll have to, Kate thought.

JANUARY.

"Auntie Joy," Kate said, "please sit here, on my right. Old Sam, on my left, please. Harvey, Demetri, there and there."

Auntie Joy looked startled but took the seat Kate indicated. Old Sam gave Kate one of his patented, narrow-eyed looks, waited long enough to establish that it was his own idea, and sat. Harvey looked mutinous but short of summarily dislodging two venerable elders there was nothing for him to do but sit where he was told to. Demetri took the last seat without comment.

"You'll find copies of an agenda on the table in front of you."

She gave them a few minutes to run their eyes over it, and then rapped the table once with a small gavel made of fossilized ivory, its creamy surface swirling with golds and browns. She'd commissioned Thor Moonin to carve it for her after the holidays. "The meeting will come to order."

It came out a little more authoritarian than she had meant it to and the table sat up with a collective jerk. Auntie Joy turned a shocked eye on Kate. Old Sam relaxed again, with the beginnings of a smile indenting the corners of his mouth. "You all had copies of the last meeting's minutes hand-delivered to your doorstep two weeks ago. I'm going on the a.s.sumption you've read them. Are there any additions or corrections you would like to propose to the minutes at this time?"

Harvey opened his mouth, encountered Kate's level gaze, and shut it again.

"If there are no corrections or emendations, the minutes are approved. May we have the treasurer's report?"

Annie Mike gave a brisk rundown of the numbers. Kate moved that they be approved and accepted, Auntie Joy seconded the motion, it pa.s.sed.

"Members.h.i.+p report," Kate said.

This was new, and Harvey said, "What's this?"

"Point of order," Kate said coolly. "The chair has not recognized Mr. Meganack."

"Oh, come on, what's this bulls.h.i.+t?"

"This bulls.h.i.+t is Robert's Rules of Order," Kate said. "You must be recognized by the chair before you are allowed to speak. And you have to stand up before I can recognize you."

Harvey sat there with his mouth half open.

"On your feet, Harvey," Old Sam said, smirking.

Harvey, red with anger, nevertheless stood up. "Madam Chair."

Kate gave a curt nod. "The chair recognizes Mr. Meganack."

"What's this members.h.i.+p report? We've never done this before."

"It's a tally of shareholders," Kate said, "which the board will update at every meeting. I think it's important we keep track of the number of shareholders we have on a regular basis. It helps remind us to whom we are responsible when we take action at these meetings."

There had been eleven children born over the past year who qualified under the a.s.sociation's one-thirty-secondth rule, specifically that after adding up their Native heritage on both sides each shareholder had a minimum of one-thirty-secondth of Native blood.

a.s.similation and intermarriage over the last three hundred years meant a lot of shareholders just barely squeaked in under that rule, and it also meant that many of the next generation of babies wouldn't qualify at all. In the back of her mind Kate noted that some action should be taken to ensure that the tribe increased rather than decreased in size as the years went by. They might have to go to one-sixty-fourth. "Total shareholders, Ms. Mike?" she said.

"Madam Chair, as of January first, the Niniltna Native a.s.sociation had two hundred and thirty-seven shareholders," Annie said. "Approximately one hundred of them live in Anchorage, Fairbanks, Juneau, and Outside."

"Thank you, Ms. Mike."

Harvey sat down slowly.

Kate tried not to let her relief show. In truth, she was a little surprised at herself. She hadn't planned to address everyone by their surnames, it had just come out, but the formality felt right. "Any further reports, Ms. Mike?"

"Not at present, Madam Chair," Annie said, her brisk manner rivaling Kate's own. Imitation, in this case, was the sincerest form of approval.

"Thank you, Ms. Mike. Moving on. Old business." She looked up. "I move that we table old business today. There is nothing left over that is pressing and we've got the general shareholders meeting to get to."

"Second," Old Sam said.

"It is moved and seconded that the board carry any old business forward to the next regularly scheduled board meeting. Debate?" There was none. "Those in favor, say aye."

Auntie Joy, Old Sam, and Kate said aye. Harvey was back to looking furious. "The ayes have it, and the motion is adopted. Next item. New business."

Kate sat back in her chair and fixed Harvey with a cold and unflinching eye. "I have three items I wish to bring to the board's attention this morning."

Harvey stiffened, and she knew he was thinking that she was about to bring up his job with GHRI, whatever it might be.

"All three items," Kate said, "will by a.s.sociation rules be put to the vote before the general shareholders meeting."

"Along with the election of the board members," Harvey said, rallying.

"Out of order, Mr. Meganack, but so noted. First on our agenda is the creation of an advisory committee consisting of qualified volunteers drawn from a.s.sociation shareholders to advise and consent to every single step Global Harvest Resources takes in developing and producing the Suulutaq Mine. Further, I propose that we approach Global Harvest Resources to fund said committee. At this time, I so move."

"Second," Old Sam said promptly.

"The motion to create an advisory committee for the Suulutaq Mine and to make Global Harvest pay for it is moved and seconded," Kate said. "Debate? The chair recognizes Mr. Meganack."

Harvey had shot to his feet but he'd also had the sense to wait this time until he was recognized. "You want to put our people on Global Harvest's payroll? Won't that make them more rather than less inclined to sign off on anything GH wants to do?"

The irony inherent in his protest seemed not to occur to Harvey. "Not if we choose the committee members carefully," Kate said, and added softly, "and watch them."

He reddened. "Who'd you have in mind for this committee?"

She looked at him. "You, for a start."

It was hard to say who was more surprised by this blunt statement, Auntie Joy or Harvey. Old Sam, of course, gave out with his braying laugh. Demetri remained his taciturn silent self.

"I seem to recall you have a degree in civil engineering from the University of Alaska Anchorage," Kate said. "You've got the education required, you're a shareholder, and you're even a member of the board, duly elected, which means you're trusted by the shareholders to run things right. Who better?"

Harvey sat down as if his legs had suddenly given out from under him.

Kate figured she couldn't beat Global Harvest in a race for Harvey's mercenary heart, but she could d.a.m.n well give them some compet.i.tion. She wasn't going to out Harvey, not yet anyway. Either Harvey would realize how inappropriate-and how impossible-it was to try to serve two masters, or he'd eventually have enough rope to hang himself with.

"Any further discussion?" she said. There wasn't. "All in favor?" Unanimous. "The board moves that the creation of a Suulutaq Advisory Committee be brought before the general members.h.i.+p at today's meeting. Second item on the agenda. I move that we ask the general members.h.i.+p to increase the Niniltna Native a.s.sociation board from five members to nine."

"What! Katya!"

"Out of order, Ms. Shugak," Kate said, ignoring the stricken expression on Auntie Joy's face, albeit not without a twinge of conscience.

"Second," Old Sam said, although not quite as promptly as he had before. He looked at Kate with a quizzical eye, as if to say he'd go along, but only until and unless she proved her case.

"Moved and seconded," Kate said. "Discussion."

"Madam Chair!" Harvey said, on his feet.

"Madam Chair!" Auntie Joy said, on hers.

"The chair recognizes herself," she said, and got to her own feet. Auntie Joy subsided, hurt. Harvey subsided, p.i.s.sed off at being steamrollered.

"I went back and checked the records of previous meetings," Kate said. "On average, we have to cancel one a year due to lack of a quorum." Quoting from what she was beginning to refer to as the Book, at least to herself, she said, "'Any substantive action taken in the absence of a quorum is invalid.' Lacking a quorum, the a.s.sociation board can't get its business done. Four more members on the board means four more paychecks, true enough. But if we establish five members-the same number we have now-as the minimum number required to const.i.tute a quorum, with a nine-member board we can be four members short and still get the job done." She paused, looking around at each board member for effect. "And there's going to be a lot to get done, shortly."

She sat down and recognized Auntie Joy, who beat Harvey to his feet by a hair second. Auntie Joy spoke forcefully if incoherently on the value of tradition, of inst.i.tutions created out of necessity and the importance of inclusion, the responsibility of the governing body to run a frugal business, and of the virtue inherent in running such a business. After a while she ran out of steam, looked confused, and sat down without offering an amendment to the motion. Kate didn't remind her, either.

In the meantime, Harvey, looking unusually thoughtful, had thought better of speaking and waved a dismissive hand when Kate looked at him. "The chair moves that the motion to increase the Niniltna Native a.s.sociation board from five members to nine should be brought before the general members.h.i.+p for approval. All in favor say aye."

Kate, Old Sam, Demetri, and Harvey voted aye. Auntie Joy said nay and looked as if she might burst into tears.

Kate hardened her heart. "Last item. I move we commission a new NNA logo."

"Second," Demetri said, and everyone looked at him in surprise.

"Moved and seconded," Kate said, with a nod to Demetri. "Debate?" No one said anything so she held up the NNA mug with the ink blot logo. "This logo sucks. It's not instantly recognizable, it doesn't say Park or NNA or anything at all, really. Plus it's poorly drawn and it's ugly. Symbols are important. Take Global Harvest's logo, for one example. Sunrise over the Quilaks. They're practically branding the Park with it. I move that at today's general meeting we tell the members.h.i.+p that the board is starting a contest, beginning today and running, what, six months? Mr. Totemoff?"

"Make it nine months," Demetri said, standing. "Give momentum time to build, word of mouth to spread, get people excited. The more entries we get the more choice we'll have. Choose the winner at the October board meeting and unveil the new logo at the general meeting next January. Besides, be good not to do any of this before, during, or after fis.h.i.+ng season."