“Hey, I trust you, Irv. Always have,” Dale said.
“Well, okay. Here we go. So you never been in one of these things before?”
Dale shook his head.
“Twenty-five percent of the juice in the state comes from nuclear. These two here, and the other one up in Monticello,” Irv said as they drove down a narrow road toward a parking lot. Dale had to squint against the bright afternoon sunlight to make out the reactors. A wall of vapor drifted up to the right.
“Pretty much like we learned in high school,” Irv said. “Uranium heats primary water in the core. The hot primary water is pumped through steam generators and the heat is transferred to secondary water that flashes into steam. Then the primary water goes back to the core for reheating. Big building on the left is the steam turbines. The smaller building between the reactors is the pool for the spent fuel rods.”
“Uh-huh,” Dale said. George had made sure he knew the diagram of this puppy by heart.
“Steam turns the turbines to make the electricity. Less than a third of the energy in the core gets used as electricity. The rest vents out in the air or goes in the river. Over on the right, where all the steam is kicking out-those are the cooling towers, four of them. Our job is to build a berm around the reactors, the turbines, and the cooling pool.”
“What are they worried about? Some A-rab gonna crash a plane into it?” Dale said it as a joke.
“Not funny,” Irv said, rolling his eyes, “Hell, the cooling-pool building is just a glorified pole barn on top. Got a corrugated tin roof. I been in there. Fuckin’ sparrows fly in and out. Nah, we’re putting up a barrier more to stop a truck-bomb threat. Like the barrier they got over behind those trees, around the storage casks.”
“Uh-huh,” Dale said, nodding.
They passed through the parking lot. Closer in now, in the shadow of the reactors. To Dale they rose against the sky like giant fat stunted silos. The domesticated cousins of the ICBM silo that had been in his dad’s field.
Driving past the lot, they came to the actual construction site. Dale smiled. It was even better than he’d expected. The area to the right of the reactors was in the process of being cleared; several large Morton-style buildings were being dismantled, the top soil stripped off, and the whole site surrounded by a silt fence and another security fence. The big machines sat mostly idle, grazing in the dirt like a herd of huge yellow oxen. But Dale was focused on the tall, square, blue-and-gray structure between the reactors. That was the cooling-pool building. The target.
Irv drove into the fenced site and they passed a broad ditch that had been started-maybe thirty feet wide, ten, twelve feet deep, thirty or so yards long. The dirt had been piled in a rough breast-work about eight feet high, parallel to the ditch, and about a hundred yards from the reactors. Dale could see water still standing in the bottom of the trench.
“What’s this?” Dale asked.
“That’s the job. The beginning of the barrier.”
“Looks kinda muddy,” Dale said.
“Yeah. We had to pull out the heavy stuff.” He parked next to a construction trailer and they got out.
“We started that excavation before the rain hit. Probably won’t get back in full swing till next week. Plan calls for a moat. Use the dirt to throw up the berm. That way we don’t have to haul it in by truck. Security is such a drag-drivers coming in and out. The more we can do strictly on site, the better.”
“What goes on top of the berm?” Dale asked, to keep the conversation going.
“Big rocks, spaced so a truck can’t fit through.”
They were walking in among the machines now: excavators, compactors, dozers, fuel and water trucks, belly loaders, graders, shovels, off-road dump trucks. Half the big iron was still on trailers. He felt a rush of relief when he saw his loaders sitting on dry ground, parked next to a big D-8 Cat dozer. He spotted the one he wanted, with the black X painted on the corner of the cab door.
Not very original. But functional.
“There’s the machines I sold you,” Dale said.
“Yep. The stiff one’s got the X on the door.”
“Yeah, okay. The fuckin’ Canadians, they probably overinflated the tires. Let me drive her around a little. See how she runs…house call, no charge.” Nothing but cool.
“Okay, check it out.” Irv smiled when he said it, but he also checked his wristwatch. “Just don’t go near that plowed-up strip by the trench and get stuck.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay right over there”-he pointed to the shadowed area between the pool structure and a utility building-“where it’s shady.” Dale walked toward the loader, detouring to go right up to one of the reactor containment walls. He extended his hand, placed his palm on the smooth gray concrete, shut his eyes, and felt the brooding fire waiting within.
Waiting for him, like it had been all his life.
The moment passed. He went over to the front-loader, pulled himself up to the cab, opened the door, sat down, and turned the key. The engine belched black smoke, caught, and ran just fine. He raised the bucket, lowered it, and then drove in a semicircle. Then he backed up to the cooling-pool building wall and stopped so there was about four feet between the wall and the rear counterweights.
Okay.
The wheels felt a little hard but the machine operated normally, just as he’d predicted.
He killed the engine, leaned down, and reached under the seat. The Klein standard NE-type side cutting pliers were still there, exactly where he’d left them. He’d taped another pair under the radiator, just in case. He tucked the cutters in his waistband, under his shirt, swung down from the cab. Then he did a casual walk-around, rubbed the counterweights for good luck-genie in a bottle. When he had the machine between himself and Irv, and was deep in the shadow of the tall pool building, he took out the cutters, leaned into the motor assembly, and quickly cut the battery wires and the fuel line. Then he jammed the cutters up behind the engine, out of sight.
He came around, completing his circuit, and kicked one of the fat tires. He ran his eyes over the site. Not many men in today. The shift was closing down. Guys parking the machines, picking up their lunch coolers, and heading for the parking lot.
Dale moved out around the motor, trailing his hand one last time over the sun-warmed chassis. He walked out and said to Irv, “Looks like she’s running just fine. Maybe she rides a little jerky. If it gets worse, let me know.”
“It’s a deal.” They shook hands. “So now what?” Irv asked.
Dale shrugged. “Going to take it easy, see some sights, drive down to Florida and see Mom and Dad. Then I don’t know. Maybe I’ll try something totally different.”
“It’ll be a change,” Irv said. “I still feel hemmed in, not seeing the sky.”
“Yeah, well, down in Florida I figure I can always get on a boat and go out into the ocean.”
“That’d do it.”
“Well, hey, I gotta hit the road. Thanks for letting me drop by. See what’s going on.”
“No problem,” Irv said and walked him back to the Jeep. As they drove back to the security gate Irv accelerated to beat the trickle of cars that was starting to pull out of the parking lot. Irv pulled over and parked by the security shack. They got out and walked to the side of the shack.
“You going to be here for a while?” Dale asked.
“Yeah, I gotta talk to a couple of the managers. Gotta mark some underground cables and tunnels they’re concerned about. And they can’t find the right blueprints. You know how it goes.”
Dale nodded. “Okay, ah, say hello to your new wife-ah…”
“Sydney.”
“That’s some name,” Dale said. He watched Irv carefully. He wanted to remember this moment. All during their visit, Irv had never once mentioned Ginny. The fact that she was reported missing.
“Yeah, well…” Irv’s voice trailed off as he raked the toe of his Timberland boot through the dust. His attention was already moving off Dale. Irv was cordial but smug. Dale was going out the gate without the balance owed on two front-loaders. The Fullers were sticking it to the Shusters again. “Say hello to your folks for me.”