Alaska Republik-ARC (39 page)

“They can’t afford to do that since Doyon State already has the majority of US and ROC military bases. They’ll send delegates, but the price will be a capital that isn’t on the Yukon or Tanana Rivers. I’ll put money on that,” Jerry said.

“We’ll find out next May,” Wing said. “Are you both ready for dinner? Sergeant Major Tobias and I have worked up something we think will please you both.”

108

Delta, Provisional State of Doyon, Alaska Republik

Pelagian came through the door, kicked it shut behind him, and dropped the load of firewood in the dented and scarred box next to the stove.

“I think it’s warmed up to about twenty below.”

Magda diced carrots furiously. “This is the longest winter I can ever remember. These carrots are about gone.”

Bodecia looked from the roast she was preparing and smiled at her daughter. “That’s because you’ve never had a reason to look forward to the arrival of spring before this.”

“I’ve
always
welcomed spring, Mother! It’s almost magical how the ground thaws and plants appear. Leaves suddenly pop out on the trees, the air warms and the world becomes a different place.”

She looked up from the carrots to see her parents regarding her with smiles.

“This is also the first spring you’ve been in love,” Bodecia said. “That always puts a different spin on things.”

Magda grinned. “Yes, I freely admit—”

A roar thundered through the house and Magda felt elation flash through her entire being.

“That’s Jerry!” She dropped her knife and ran outside.

She watched the P-61 circle around in the distance and come tearing back toward her. She jumped up and down and waved madly as the aircraft again zoomed over the house, waggling its wings.

Bodecia came out and touched her daughter’s shoulder. “Get your coat and some warm footwear. Rudi is already warming up the truck.”

With a laugh Magda raced back into the house. She felt like she could have run to the aerodrome dressed the way she was, but knew that would be foolish, let alone dangerous.

As she slipped into her mukluks, she remembered stories of people who, after a long spell of severely cold weather, would rush outside with little protection when the temperature rose to minus twenty degrees Fahrenheit, and suffer frostbite.

She pulled on her parka and zipped it shut. As she went out the back door while pulling on her mittens, Bodecia called to her.

“Why don’t you invite Jerry to dinner?”

She chuckled as she slammed the door on her parents’ laughter. The drab utility sat wreathed in a cloud of its own exhaust, running smoothly. Rudi and Pelagian had rebuilt the engine and the little VAZ, as Rudi called it, purred like a contented cat. She slid into the passenger seat and smiled at Rudi.

“A soon as I hear plane in distance I crank up utility, knowing you will wish ride as soon as possible, yes?”

“You’re such a smart man, Rudi. I’m very happy you decided to stay with us.”

“I am honored your parents allow me to intrude into your lives. Otherwise would have had to join Dená Army for rations and place to sleep. Now am proud resident and proprietor of finest garage in Russ—ah, Alaska Republik.”

Magda laughed with him. At this point she would have laughed with anyone. But she was pleased that the former Russian sergeant had accepted Pelagian’s offer of the room over the garage.

The garage was nearly as big as the house with space for two vehicles as well as a spacious workshop in the rear. A large woodstove in the corner of the workshop kept the entire building comfortable as its stack went through the ceiling of the shop into the second-story room before going through the roof. They had all been surprised at Rudi’s deft touch with engines and other things mechanical.

Pelagian immediately helped Rudi start an engine repair business and rented half the garage and all of the shop and upstairs room to Rudi for a percentage of his revenue. It also didn’t hurt that Rudi was almost pathologically protective of the whole family and that the dogs loved him.

“Cermanivich Services” already had a backlog of work that would take him through spring to finish. Magda noticed he wore clean clothes instead of his customary greasy mechanic’s coveralls.

“How did you get cleaned up so quickly?”

He smiled and kept his eyes on the icy road. “Was apprised of impending arrival of the lieutenant colonel so as to be prepared.”

She stared out at the snow-laden trees lining the road for a moment.

“How long have you known he was coming?”

Their headlights bounced off the six-foot snowbanks on each side of the road. Except for them, the road lay empty.

“Two days, I think.”

“And you didn’t tell
me
?”

“And ruin happy pilot arrival? Not in script, sorry.”

“Why, you plotter, you!”

“Please, both Pelagian and Bodecia also know of this, not just poor, lowly mechanic.”

“I’m surrounded by plotters!” Magda couldn’t be happier. She realized if she had known Jerry was coming, she would have been a total mess at this point. But, still!

By the time they traveled the four miles to the aerodrome next to St. Anthony Redoubt, the short day had descended into total darkness and the lights of the aerodrome looked particularly inviting in the frigid afternoon. A quick glance at the sky promised no deeper cold this night as the clouds that hid the stars also kept the air temperature constant.

Rudi pulled up in front of the office where pilots checked in and filed flight plans. Magda was out of the utility cab before it had stopped moving and raced through the office door.

Dominick Demientieff looked up from a book. “Can I help you? Oh, hi, Magda. What’s up?”

She frowned. “Didn’t a plane just land here? One buzzed our house…”

Jerry’s voice came from behind her, “Yeah, a plane just landed. What’s so important about it?”

She turned and jumped into his arms, kissed him deeply and tried not to cry. They broke the embrace only when Dominick cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you two go find someplace a little more appropriate?”

“Oh, Dominick, you’re such a stick in the mud!” she said with a giggle. She turned back to Jerry. “But I think he has a good idea there. Whattya say, soldier?”

He hadn’t stopped staring at her since their embrace. “I have missed you so much!” His voice went husky. “I’m not sure I can wait until August to marry you.”

“Me too,” she said. “You’re invited to dinner by the way.”

“Let’s go. Hey, thanks for everything, Dominick.” He grabbed a duffel bag near the door.

“Good seeing you, Jerry. Have a great time you two.”

Jerry held the truck door open and Magda scooted over next to Rudi; he threw the duffel into the back and slid in beside her.

Once the door closed, Jerry leaned forward and shook hands with Rudi.

“I hear you’ve become the proprietor of your own business, Sergeant Cermanivich.”

“Please, no longer sergeant. Am now happy civilian and
part
owner of good business. Is good to see you, Jerry.”

“Magda mentioned something about dinner. I’m starved.” He put his left arm around her and pulled her tight against him.

Rudi turned and drove back toward the house.

“I talked him into it, folks.”

“Who is
him
?” Rudi asked.

“General Grigorievich.”

“And what is ‘
it
’?” Magda asked.

“To be stationed in Delta.”

“When?” She all but shrieked.

He looked down at her and the dash lights reflected off his smile. “As of now.”

By the time Rudi pulled up in front of the house, Magda had regained control of herself. She thought her heart would burst when Jerry told them the news.

I hope I always feel this way about him
.

As she and Jerry exited, Rudi said, “Will be in directly to share happy meal with all.”

“Thanks for the ride, Rudi,” Jerry said.

“I owe you many more, my friend.”

Magda rushed into the house and shouted, “He’s being stationed here! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Once Jerry removed his cold weather clothing, he hugged Bodecia and Pelagian in turn.

“Magda, please help me finish preparing dinner,” Bodecia said.

She frowned and started to protest before remembering he was going to be here from now on. They had time, a lot of time.

“Of course, Mother.”

“Do you have something for me?” Pelagian asked Jerry.

“Yes, sir, I do.” He pulled an envelope out of his jacket and handed it to the large man.

Pelagian ripped it open and eagerly read the message. Both Magda and Bodecia watched him as he walked across the room, opened the firebox on the wood stove and threw in the letter and envelope.

“Well, that was certainly dramatic!” Bodecia said in a tone that demanded enlightenment.

“Well, the main gist of it all is that I am running for First Speaker of the Alaska Republik.”

The way the words rolled off his tongue told Magda that he was taken with the idea.

“We don’t even know if we have a republik yet!” Bodecia snapped.

“Why are you upset?” Pelagian said.

“Because you haven’t talked to me about this at all, and here you are, putting yourself and us in the crosshairs of every mentally deficient, politically frustrated, would-be messiah out there. Did it occur to you that we might want some input into this momentous decision?”

“Bodecia, my love, nobody outside this room knows anything about it. I’ll happily listen to anything you and Magda have to say about it.”

“And then go right ahead and do what you want anyway!”

“Mother, you’re being unfair. Let’s have a meal and a quiet discussion about this crazy idea Father has come up with.”

Bodecia laughed but Pelagian didn’t. Jerry looked uncomfortable. At that point Rudi hurried in and firmly shut the door behind him. His quick smile faded as he looked around at the others.

“Am I too early for meal? Will be happy to return at later time.”

“Dinner is ready, Rudi,” Bodecia said in a listless voice. “We’re all absorbing the idea of Pelagian running for Czar.”

“First Speaker,” Pelagian said in the most neutral tone he could manage. “We call it First Speaker.”

“Is possible to discuss
and
eat?” Rudi asked.

109

Klahotsa on the Yukon

“You ever see anything like it before?” Trooper Bates asked.

“What? I can’t hear you through your scarf,” Corporal Smythe said in a low voice.

“The lights, ever see anything like them before?” He pointed up to the aurora borealis filling the dark sky with light and dimming the distant stars.

The aurora curtained across the void with sheets of cold flame that seemed to be hundreds of miles wide, knife-blade thin, and stretching upward into outer space. The lights wavered, shifted; the color changed from opalescence to a mild emerald and bent into a scroll.

“You’re supposed to be on perimeter patrol, not watching pretty lights in the sky, you dumb bastard!”

“How can you
not
watch them, Smythe. Is there no poetry in your soul?”

“It’s
Corporal
Smythe to you,
Trooper
Bates, and if you don’t attend to your duty, I’ll put you on company punishment!”

“Yes, Corporal.”

“I wish to hell it would cloud up,” Smythe said. “When it’s clear like this the temperature plummets.”

“What are we doing out here, anyway? Nobody in their right mind would be poking around here in the middle of a night this cold.”

“What Major Riordan
wants
, Major Riordan
gets
,” Smythe said. “We get paid to follow orders, not question them.”

“What’s that?”

“I said—”

“No! Over there!” Bates said in a whisper, pointing into the dark forest.

Corporal Smythe stopped and peered into the trees, trying to pierce the heavy darkness. Above them the aurora twisted and writhed, color shifting to a rose blush that reflected off metal for just an instant.

Smythe quickly raised his rifle and fired into the darkness next to where the glint had vanished.

The gunshot shattered the still night and four shots, fired nearly simultaneously, erupted from the trees.

Two rounds hit Bates in the chest, knocking him back against a tree, dead before he hit the ground. Two rounds found Smythe, one grazing his skull and the other shattering his left scapula. He fell unconscious in the snowy forest, his blood melting snow crystals before freezing into a red pool that reflected the dancing aurora borealis.

110

Nowitna, Provisional State of Doyon, Alaska Republik

“That’s the slowest damn retreat I’ve ever made,” Colonel Del Buhrman said, holding the cup of tea in both hands.

“If you break a sweat in weather like that,” Lieutenant Colonel Heinrich Smolst said, “you die.”

“Why?”

“Because you breathe deeper, strain for more air, and the air is cold enough to frost your lungs—and kill you.”

“Extreme place, this Alaska of yours.”

“And full of extreme people,” Smolst said with a nod. “Like you.”

Buhrman grinned and looked up from his cup of tea when Iago Titus came through the cabin door.

“How’s our patient?”

“My auntie has stabilized the wound, but we need to get him over to Tanana as soon as possible. She says his arm needs surgery.”

“Damn, I was afraid of that. I’ll see if I can get a plane in here to pick him up.”

Smolst shook his head. “It’s somewhere between fifty and sixty below out there, Del. The air is too thin for small planes and we can’t get a big one into Nowitna—the strip is too small.”

“What do you mean, ‘the air is too thin’?”

“All of the moisture is frozen out of it and a small plane has trouble getting any lift without a bit of moisture in the air.”

“You’re pulling my leg, right?”

“I had the same response when they told me that one back in Siberia in ’79. So I asked a pilot about it and he verified the story.”

“I’ll be damned. You learn something new every day.”

“If you pay attention,” Smolst said.

“So we can’t get out by air unless it warms up. I sure as hell hope it doesn’t get any colder.”