Amerika (45 page)

Jacob lifted a cut-crystal glass of red wine. ‘Here’s to Boulder Dam. Without it we wouldn’t be here.’

‘Neither would we,’ I added.

The
Desert Queen’s
dining room was surprisingly spacious and extended across the entire deck. Candlelight reflected off the darkened windows like a thousand stars. I was glad I didn’t have to plot a course using them, because I was already feeling the effects of the wine, and could barely keep my head from falling into the soup.

Ava, by contrast, seemed to gather fresh energy as each course was served, while Orlando sat across from me, a calm and silent port in a storm. The professor ate small bites, but never seemed to stop.  Mason was still on the plane, standing first watch, and Ziggy couldn’t seem to shut up. He cornered Esau early in the meal and wouldn’t let him go. But the man didn’t seem to mind, watching the Hollywood agent like he would watch a snake oil salesman, with his money safe in his pocket.

I did my best to rouse myself from the effects of the wine and start a conversation with Jacob about how back east some of the states were planning to secede from the union.

The captain smiled and shook his head. ‘Not out west. Am I right, Esau? Anybody here care that America’s gone neutral?’

Esau swung away from Ziggy. ‘Depends on who you talk to. After they dropped the bombs, the governor appointed all his cronies, every one of them a businessman who believes the status quo is the way to go. Don’t rock the boat. That sort of thing.’

‘But you’re a businessman, right?’

‘I am, but those boys are all hat and no horse. My brother and I are different. We dragged a steamboat down here from Wyoming and turned it into a money-making business.’

Ava said, ‘You not only rocked the boat, you took it apart and put it together again.’

Esau managed a smile at that.

I said, ‘Who’s running for congress in the November elections? Any candidates with guts?’

Esau worried a piece of food in his teeth, oblivious to table manners.

‘It’s ain’t guts they need, it’s another part of the anatomy.’

Ava said, ‘Don’t be coy on my account. You mean balls.’

The candlelight made Esau’s blush even brighter. He nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am, that’s exactly what I mean.’

Jacob moved smoothly into the conversation. ‘Compliance officers are coming to survey Boulder Dam next week.’

Ava said, ‘What for? It’s just a dam.’

‘Hydroelectricity,’ he said. ‘Two point-eight million kilowatts. Nothing like it in the world, and nothing like Boulder Dam either. That’s why they’re snooping around.’

I said, ‘What are they going to do? Take it apart and ship it back to Berlin? That’s a hell of a lot of concrete.’

Jacob snapped, ‘They’ll steal our technology and that’s just as good, the bastards - excuse me ma’am.’

Ava said shook her head in frustration. ‘I can’t believe we let those people get away with stuff like this.’

Friedman cleared his throat. ‘Because people like me invented the atomic bomb.’

Ava leveled her finger at him. ‘But because a person like you is sitting here in this room, that’s going to stop, right?’

Friedman nodded briskly, almost like he was in school.

‘And what if it does?’ Jacob said, his eyes bright with hope. ‘Let’s assume your mission succeeds.’

‘It will,’ I said quickly.

‘What happens next is my question.’

I countered. ‘What do you gentlemen think?’

Esau’s face slowly darkened. ‘Nothing will happen. America keeps moving along, head down, letting Europe go up in flames and Japan rule China’s roost. All of that destruction can go ahead and happen just as long as good old dad can take good old mom and the kids out to good old Lake Mead and have a nice tour of the dam, maybe even have lunch, and shake their heads and cluck about what an awful state of affairs the world is in, not counting America, of course.’

He paused for breath.

Jacob grinned at his brother. ‘Don’t hold back, Esau. Tell them what you really think.’

Esau fussed with his wine and then gulped it down. ‘It just confounds me sometimes what people will put up with.’

‘You’re not putting up with it,’ I said.

‘I’m not the majority.’

Ava leaned forward on her elbows. ‘Mark my words, you may be right about men wanting the status quo, but you’re overlooking a simple fact.’ She paused. ‘We have a woman president.’

‘But only until November. And right now she’s trailing what’s-his-name...’

‘Stanford,’ I prompted. ‘William Stanford.’

‘William my ass,’ Esau snorted. ‘’Stinky’ Stanford is Nevada’s biggest success story; silver mines, railroads, steamship lines, you name it; whatever Stinky wants Stinky gets, including the White House when they rebuild it, that is.’

Ava said, ‘A lot can happen between now and November.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like declaring war against Germany.’

He stared at her, his mouth half-open. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘War tends to focus the mind, don’t you think? And who wants to change horses when we’re in mid-stream fighting the enemy? My vote goes to the person already in the Oval Office, President Perkins, who had the balls to order this mission, not some rich kid named Stinky Stanford.’

Esau’s face eased up at the thought. ‘Do you really think we’ll get in the fight?’

She touched my arm lightly. ‘The
Dixie Clipper
has to fight first. And then? Yes I believe we will. I don’t know how or when; that’s something people a lot smarter than me are working on day and night to make happen. All we’ve got to do is destroy that plutonium and the machinery that makes it. The rest is up to them.’

I said, ‘We’ve got to get off the lake first.’ Captain McGraw said, ‘You leave that to me.’

Esau raised his glass. The rest of us did the same. He carefully looked at each of us before he quietly said, ‘To the Sons of Liberty.’

‘Daughters, too,’ Ava said.

With Ava leading the way, we made our way along the carpeted passageway to our staterooms on board the Desert Queen.

As much as I wanted to feel fresh sheets and a soft pillow, I said to Orlando, ‘I’ll go relieve Mason. When he gets here, show him his room.’

Orlando nodded. ‘I’ll relieve you at four.’

Ziggy said, ‘Let me take your watch, captain.’

‘That won’t be necessary, I’ll…’

‘It’s necessary for me, damn it.’ He took a step forward and seemed to grow a foot taller. ‘I’m sick and tired of being nothing more than a glorified short order cook around here. I’m part of the team and I’m standing watch whether you like it or not.’

‘We have guards outside the plane, and…’

‘Two men stationed at the nose and two at the tail. I know that. And nobody is allowed on board except crew. Nobody.’

‘And make damned sure my orders are carried out. We’ve got valuable cargo on board.’

He nodded sternly, all business. ‘Affirmative. And I’m to tell Lieutenant Mason that Orlando will show him his room, correct?’

‘Affirmative.’

Ziggy saluted and turned to Orlando. ‘See you at four, Mr. Diaz.’

Orlando, God bless him, saluted back. ‘Roger that, Mr. Ziegler.’

Ziggy pivoted on his heel and half-marched, half-ran down the hallway.

As tired as I was, and as cool and fresh-smelling the sheets and pillow were, I didn’t want to close my eyes because while I know babies can’t talk, in dreams they sometimes can. I didn’t want to hear Eddie’s cry again, and I didn’t want to see Estelle’s sweet face again, or her angry face, or anybody’s face, shouting at me about how much they needed me and why couldn’t I reach out and help them?

No use. I was asleep before I even took my clothes off, and this time Eddie’s voice sounded just like Abby’s, only a little higher in pitch. And for some bizarre reason he was at Couba Island, and he could walk, even though he was only six months old and his little legs were bowed like a cowboy’s.

I  knew  I  was  dreaming,  but  I  couldn’t  wake  up.  At one point I succeeded and stared at the ceiling of the dimly lit stateroom, only to hear somebody breathing.

Estelle.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at me with the sweetest smile, like when we first met, and I was so happy until I realized I was still dreaming because I awakened with my hands reaching out to nothing but thin air and all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing.

2:20a.m. by my watch.

Enough.

I got up, dressed, left the stateroom, and minutes later was nodding ‘hello’ to a grizzled old cowboy of a guard by the loading ramp next to the plane.

‘Heading on board.’

‘Okay, captain.’

‘Everything all right?’

He patted his Winchester carbine. ‘Oh, you bet.’

I glanced up at the flight deck windows, dimly lit from within, and a shadow flitted past. Good old Ziggy on the job. Would probably give him a heart attack, showing up out of the blue like this, but better to deal with a hysterical man in this world than a walking baby in a nightmare.

From force of habit I climbed the crew stairs smoothly, quietly, acting the part of the confident captain should a nervous passenger happen to see me. The flight deck hatch was open, and as my head cleared the hatch, the first thing I saw were Ziggy’s legs bouncing up and down as he sat at the radio operator’s station. The unmistakable smell of ozone told me the radios were up and running.

Annoyed, I crouched, planning to pounce on him as I would any novice crew member who wasn’t performing up to Pan Am’s rigid standards. I took the last two steps in a bound, landed with a thump on the flight deck.

‘Having fun, Mr. Ziegler?’

He shot up like a rocket, headphones flying one way, a half-eaten sandwich on a plate sailing the other, staring at me like I was the Ghost of Christmas Past.

‘Jesus Christ, ever heard of knocking?’

‘Ever heard of standing watch?’

The tinny sounds of music vibrated the headphones on the desk. I looked at them the same time he did.

‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Listening to music.’

‘You figured out how to operate the radios?’

He shrugged. ‘I watched you do it.’

I lifted up the Morse key. ‘Played around with this too, I see.’ He looked ashamed. ‘A little bit.’

The transmitter was humming away. I reached up and switched it off.

‘That thing eats up electricity. We’re on batteries.’

‘I didn’t know - look, captain, I’m sorry. I was just bored to death.’

‘And hungry too. Wasn’t dinner enough?’ He patted his stomach. ‘I’m a growing boy.’

I pointed to the crew hatch. ‘Go grow in your stateroom. I’ll take the rest of the watch.’

A quick flash of concern in his eyes. Fear, maybe, or was it anger? Hard to say.

‘You’re the captain,’ he said stiffly, and turned to go.

‘Ziggy, look, didn’t mean to blow my top. Thanks for helping out. I mean that.’

‘I let you down.’

‘That’s okay. You never stood watch before. How were you to know?’

‘No.’ He waved me away. ‘I screwed up and I apologize.’

‘Apology accepted.’

He gave me a level stare. ‘Just no dancing from now on, right?’

I laughed. ‘Right.’

He got halfway down the crew stairs, his head sticking out above the hatch. His eyes different now, almost sad. ‘I’m sorry, Sam.’

And then he was gone.

I switched off the work light and sat in the dark. Part of my mind decided it was time to get to work on the problem of lifting the
Dixie Clipper
off Lake Mead with a full tank of gas. But another part of my mind overruled it with the argument that Captain McGraw had his own idea and to just shut up and do nothing for once instead. And so I did.

Before long I could hear in the headphones, a faraway Frank Sinatra singing There Are Such Things. I reached over to turn it off to save our batteries, but decided instead to flick it to the speakers. Sinatra’s light but mellow voice filled the flight deck:

A dream for two, there are such things.

Someone to whisper

‘Darling you're my guiding star,

Not caring what you own