enemy, Doctor.”
She hadn’t seen it, of course, unless InterOil’s executives were a lot broader minded, with their focus more tightly on the future than just about everyone else she’d talked to — lectured — in the past year and a half. It was all about public relations, because for a long time big oil had been leaving a sour taste in the public’s mouth.
But Don’s homily had been not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “The money and the rig have landed in our laps. So now let’s do it.”
She’d hugged him that morning in her office, felt his warmth and strength, and knew that she could count on him as she needed to count on him, and also knew in her heart of hearts that he would be there for her.
And he’d been there for her, literally, on the flight down from Trenton-Mercer Airport through Atlanta, talking about the probable state of the oil rig, and how much had to be done in how little time — because she’d set impossible timetables, something she’d done all of her life. He was just as excited as she was, and a little intimidated too, because if there was any sort of accident at this stage of the game the project would be all but over. The money would dry up, and certainly any further cooperation from InterOil would go away.
“So we make sure that there are no accidents,” Don told her as the small Delta regional jet touched down at Gulfport-Biloxi International Airport.
“Or sabotage,” Eve had said darkly.
“This time we check everything twice. We take nothing for granted.”
Then why did she feel so nervous? Eve had to ask herself. Her ex had told her that she wasn’t happy unless she was putting out fires — his euphemism for problem solving. “When everything’s going fine your default mode is to think that the axe is going to drop any second.”
But something was just over the horizon, something had always been just over the horizon for her, and the sabotage at Hutchinson Island on the very day she was giving her presentation struck her as an unlikely coincidence. She’d never been able to count on anything or anyone her entire life; not her parents, not her few friends at school, certainly not the headmistress, not her husband, and yet here she was with a man, younger than her, but just as smart, handsome, steady, reliable, and she had come to trust him, rely on him, and that frightened her the most. It was a weakness.
They had been so absorbed that they were the last off the airplane, carrying only small shoulder bags with notes, drawings, and specification lists, plus small video cameras, because their visit to the rig would only be for a couple of hours. Afterwards they were flying directly back to Princeton to gather and brief the same eleven techs who’d been with them on the
A very large man, even taller and huskier than Bob Krantz, was waiting for them in the baggage claim and car rentals hall. Dressed in khaki slacks, a light blue business shirt, and a dark blue windbreaker with InterOil’s logo, a four-pointed star on the breast, he was the most serious-looking man Eve had ever seen. And he did not seem pleased to see them.
“Doctor Larsen, Doctor Price, welcome to Biloxi,” he said, his voice deep-pitched and southern. They shook hands. “I’m Justin Defloria, Vanessa Explorer’s OIM — offshore installation manager. I’ll be running the rig for you across the Gulf.”
“We’re happy to be here,” Eve said. “Can you take us out there now, or do we need to be briefed first?”
“I have a helicopter standing by over at the general aviation terminal. Vanessa is about twenty-five miles offshore, so the flight out takes about twenty minutes, plenty of time for me to go over a couple of things. We’ve pulled most of the exploration and pumping equipment off, and we’ve already started work on getting her ready for your people and their gear, plus the tow. But a lot is going on, and a rig in this kind of transition can be a dangerous environment.”
“Have there been any accidents?” Don asked.
“Not yet,” Defloria said tersely. “As I understand it you have a flight to catch this evening, so if you’ll follow me we’ll get started.”
Outside they got into a big Cadillac Escalade SUV and Defloria drove them around to the general aviation terminal where a very large Sikorsky S-61N helicopter capable of carrying thirty passengers plus two pilots was warming up on the tarmac. The machine looked old and banged up, the paint on its fuselage deeply pitted and the interior shabby, most of the upholstered seats worn and dirty. But Defloria didn’t seem to notice, nor did the pilot who lifted off as soon as the hatch was closed and everyone was buckled in.
The chopper swung around to the west as it gained altitude, and once over Highway 49, it headed south over the port of Gulfport, across the Mississippi Sound and the barrier islands, and they were out over the open Gulf of Mexico, nothing but water dotted with ships and farther out to the horizon what looked like the edge of a forest of oil rigs.
It was noisy in the helicopter, but once the pilot throttled back to cruising speed of 120 knots, they were able to talk.
“Do you have a timetable?” Eve asked Defloria.
“That depends somewhat on you, Doctor,” he said. “And the tolerance level of your people.”
“Tolerance for what?”
“Discomfort,” the rig manager replied, baiting her as so many men did.
“We’ll manage as long as we have something to eat, a place to sleep, bathroom facilities, and space to install our monitoring equipment as well as the cable heads for the four impellers.” She smiled. “Hopefully you won’t have us camped out on deck in tents.”
“No, but we’d ask that your scientists and technicians remain below decks as much of the time as feasible. There’ll be a lot of welding and cutting, mostly getting rid of the last of the oil exploration systems and structures, and even a hard hat wouldn’t be much protection if a fifty-pound piece of steel girder fell on someone’s head.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Eve said. “Besides Dr. Price and myself, I’m bringing a crew of eleven people, all of them accustomed to working while at sea.”
“Will you need separate dormitories?”
And Eve smiled inwardly. The man was old-school southern, maybe even a gentleman ordered to do a disagreeable job, but he was concerned that he could provide propriety and decorum aboard the rig. “That won’t be necessary, though separate showers would be nice.”
“I think if you can give me until you return from Oslo, the rig will be ready for your people to come aboard and we can start the tow.”
That was more than a month out and Eve was brought up against the simple fact that she would have to actually travel to Norway to pick up the Prize, which meant more dealing with the media, rounds of cocktails parties and dinners, that just about every Nobel laureate before her had detested. She’d gone online and looked up something of the frenetic ceremonies that led up to the presentation at Oslo’s city hall, and then had put all of that out of her mind until this moment. To her the Prize had become a separate thing from the ceremony. And although she’d endured the half-dozen news conferences in Washington and Princeton, she hadn’t enjoyed them. They’d interfered with her work. And Oslo would be the biggest intrusion of all.
She’d tried to explain something of her discomfort to Don, but he’d laughed at her.
“You know what you’re doing, of course,” he’d said.
They were in the computer lab on a CAD program with Vanessa Explorer’s blueprints up on the big tabletop monitor. “What do you mean?”
He was exasperated with her. “For Christ’s sake, Eve, you’ve won the goddamned Nobel Prize and it sounds like you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
She wanted to smile just then, she wanted to laugh but she shook her head. “I’m frightened,” she admitted.
“Of what?” Don had practically shouted.
They were alone in the lab, otherwise she wouldn’t have said anything. “I might be wrong.”
For a moment Don had been struck dumb. But he too shook his head. “Trust the data, isn’t that what you’ve been telling us all along, drumming it into our heads? But look for the anomalies, the errors will show up in the odd bits. But we’ve seen nothing like that.”
Just after three, Defloria pointed out the rig standing by itself, its nearest neighbor at least ten miles away. Two barges were tied up alongside, and as they approached from the southeast a crane on the platform’s main
