Read Online Whisper to the Blood by Dana Stabenow - Free Book Online

shrugged. "I'm not going to bullshit you, Kate, or anyone else
in the Park for that matter. Global Harvest is in the gold mining business
because they can make money at it. They bid on the leases at Suulutaq because
they had a good hunch as to what they'd find there." Macleod pulled a wry
face. "I don't think they knew just how much was there, but now that they
do, they're in for the long haul. Gold, last time I looked, was a little over
nine hundred an ounce and rising. For that kind of money, they're willing to do
things right from the get-go."
    "Beginning with?"
    "Well, just for starters, we'll be taking applications the first of
next month for a hundred jobs, to Park residents only, entry level twenty
dollars an hour, six-weeks-on, six-weeks-off rotation."
    The front two legs of Old Sam's chair hit the floor. "Twenty dollars an
hour?"
    "A hundred?" Kate said. "That isn't a lot."
    "During exploration and development, we expect the mine will employ a
minimum of two thousand," Macleod said, and was obviously pleased with the
expressions she saw around the table. "When we move into production, the
payroll should be around a thousand."
    "Twenty dollars an hour?" Old Sam said.
    "Time and a half for overtime," Macleod said.
    "What kind of jobs?" Kate said.
    "So far, we've got one person on the payroll, as caretaker on the site.
I'm looking for a second so they can work in rotation. As I'm sure you know,
we've got a trailer out there already, a small one serving as a rudimentary
office, lab, and bunkhouse. We'll be bringing in more housing shortly. Future
jobs will be in drilling and analyzing core samples to define the extent of the
mine, and in support of same. Some people will be working with microscopes and
test tubes, others will be washing dishes and making beds."
    "Twenty dollars an hour?" Old Sam said.
    "Anything over eight hours a day, anything over forty hours a week is
overtime," Macleod said. "You'll train them?" Kate said.
    Macleod nodded. "On the job. And they get paid for it, at the full
rate, starting their first day."
    "Twenty dollars an hour?" Old Sam said.
    "Double time for state and federal holidays," Macleod said.
    "Where will they live?" Kate said.
    "They live where they work, on site. Right now, there are four trailers
sitting in Ahtna, three fifty-man sleepers and one for offices. And that's just
the beginning."
    "Twenty dollars an hour?" Old Sam said.
    Old Sam Dementieff, a contemporary of Auntie Joy's and someone who knew
where all the bodies were buried, was ancient, vigorous, practical, and
irascible. He had no time for fools and he considered everyone who wasn't him
or Mary Balashoff, his main squeeze, a fool. That included Kate, who deckhanded
for him on the
Freya,
his fish tender, during the salmon season. All
that being said, he was loyal through and through, although to whom and to what
could be changeable. Most of the time he was loyal to the Association, by which
he meant the tribe. He was loyal to the Park and to the Park rats who lived in
it, whether they were shareholders or not. Or he was to the ones who'd survived
at least one full winter without turning tail and making tracks south. After the
Park rat in waiting passed that first crucial test, Old Sam was known to say,
"Weeeellll, you're showing me something. Let's see you make it through
another." He was Everyfart, the quintessential Alaskan Old Fart, and not
only did he know better than anyone else, he said so, early and often. The hell
of it was that he was right most of the time.
    Macleod smiled at him. She even looked amused when he didn't visibly wilt
from the heat in that smile. "When we really get started, it's going to go
twenty-four seven, two twelve-hour shifts. With overtime, one employee could
pull down as much as nine thousand dollars a month."
    "How are you going to get the trailers out to the mine?" Kate
said.
    "Same way we got this one out there. Airlift. We've leased a helicopter,
a Sikorsky, I think they told me, until we