[Dalyia]

Hopp was right. He had no wife, no children. He had no one and

nothing pulling him back to the Lower

. To the world. If he was go-

ing to stay here, then he had to make good. If he blew this, this strange
chance at the end of the universe, there was nowhere left to go. Nothing
left to do.
His stomach jittered with the same sort of queasy nerves he’d experienced
on the plane as he carried his coffee out to the communal area.
“Ah, if I could have a couple minutes.”
He wasn’t sure where to stand, then realized he shouldn’t be standing
at all. He set down his coffee, then walked over to grab two of the plastic
chairs. After carrying them over to the desks, he retrieved his coffee,
worked up a smile for Peach.
“Ms. Peach? Would you come on over and sit down?”And though the
short stack was heavy in his belly, he boosted up the smile. “Maybe you
could bring those cinnamon buns with you. They sure smell tempting.”
Obviously pleased, she brought over the plate and a stack of napkins.
“You boys just help yourselves.”
“I gotta figure this is at least as awkward for all of you as it is for me,”
Nate began as he plopped a bun on a napkin. “You don’t know me.
Don’t know what kind of cop I am, what kind of man I am. I’m not from
around here, and I don’t know a damn thing about this part of the
world.And you’re supposed to take orders from me.You’re going to take
orders from me,” he corrected, and bit into the bun.
“This is pure sin, Ms. Peach.”
“It’s the lard that does it.”
“I bet.” He envisioned every one of his arteries slamming shut. “It’s
hard to take orders from somebody you don’t know, don’t trust. You’ve
got no reason to trust me. Yet. I’m going to make mistakes. I don’t mind
you pointing them out to me, as long as you point them out in private.
I’m also going to rely on you, all of you, to bring me up to speed. Things
I should know, people I should know. But for right now, I’m going to
ask if any of you have a problem with me. Let’s get it out in the open
now, deal with it.”
Otto took a slurp of his coffee. “I don’t know if I’ve got a problem
until I see what you’re made of.”
“Fair enough. You find you’ve got one, you tell me. Maybe I’ll see it
your way, maybe I’ll tell you to go to hell. But we’ll know where we
stand.”
“Chief Burke?”
Nate looked over at Peter. “It’s Nate. I hope to God you people aren’t
going to take a page from Mayor Hopp and call me Ignatious all the
damn time.”
“Well, I was thinking that maybe at first me or Otto should go with
you on calls, and on patrol. Until you get to know your way around.”
“That’s a good idea. Ms. Peach and I’ll start working out a shift
schedule, week by week.”
“You can start calling me Peach now. I’d just like to say I expect this
place to stay clean, and that chores—which includes scrubbing the
bathroom, Otto—get put on the schedule like everything else. Mops
and buckets and brooms aren’t tools just for women.”
“I signed on as deputy, not as a maid.”
She had a soft, motherly face. And, like any mother worth her salt,
could sear a hole through steel with one firm look. “And I’m being paid
to work as dispatcher and secretary, not to scrub toilets. But what has to
be done, has to be done.”
“Why don’t we rotate those chores for the time being?” Nate interrupted
as he could see combat fire light both faces. “And I’ll talk to
Mayor Hopp about our budget. Maybe we can squeeze out enough to
hire somebody to come in and swab us out once a week.Who has the
keys to the weapon cabinet?”
“They’re locked in my drawer,” Peach told him.
“I’d like to have them. And I’d like to know what weapons each of
you deputies is qualified for.”
“If it’s a gun, I can shoot it,” Otto retorted.
“That may be true, but we’re wearing badges.” He tipped his chair
back so he could see the gun Otto wore in a belt holster. “You want to
stick with the .

38 for your service revolver?”

“It’s my own, and it suits me.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to take the

9mm SIG from the cabinet. Peter,

you comfortable with the nine you’re carrying?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Peach, can you handle a firearm?”
“I’ve got my father’s Colt .

45 revolver locked in my desk, too. He

taught me how to shoot when I was five. And I can handle anything in
that cabinet, the same as GI Joe here.”
“I served in the Corps,”Otto retorted, with some heat. “I’m a Marine.”
“Okay then.” Nate cleared his throat. “How many residents, would
you say, own weapons?”
The three of them stared at him until, finally, Otto’s lips quirked up.
“That’d be about all of them.”
“Great. Do we have a list of those residents who’re licensed to carry
concealed?”
“I can get that for you,” Peach offered.
“That’ll be good. And would there be a copy of town ordinances?”
“I’ll get it.”
“One last,” Nate said as Peach got up. “If we have occasion to arrest
anyone, who sets bail, decides on the term, the payment of fine,
and so on?”
There was a long silence before Peter spoke. “I guess you do, chief.”
Nate blew out a breath. “Won’t that be fun?”
He went back into his office, taking the paperwork Peach gave him.
It didn’t take long to read through it, but it gave him something to pin
up on his corkboard.
He was lining up pages, tacking them on when Peach came in. “Got
those keys for you, Nate. These here are for the gun cabinet. These are
for the station doors, front and back, the cells and your car. Everything’s
labeled.”
“My car? What’ve I got?”
“Grand Cherokee. It’s parked out on the street.” She dumped keys
into his hand. “Hopp said one of us should show you how you work the
heat block for the engine.”
He’d read about those, too. Heaters designed to keep an engine
warm when at rest in subzero temperatures. “We’ll get to it.”
“Sun’s coming up.”
“What?” He turned, looked out the window.
Then he just stood, his arms at his side, the keys weighing down
his hand, as the sun bloomed orange and rose in the sky. The mountains
came alive under it, massive and white with the gold streaks sliding
over them.
They filled his window. Left him speechless.
“Nothing like your first winter sunrise in Alaska.”
“I guess not.” Mesmerized, he stepped closer to the window.
He could see the river where he’d landed—a long, saggy dock he
hadn’t noticed before, and the sheen of ice under the lightening sky.
There were hills of snow, a huddle of houses, stands of trees—and he
noted, people. There were people, bundled up so thickly they looked
like globs of color gliding over the white.
There was smoke rising, and Jesus, was that an eagle soaring over

head? And as he watched, a group of kids went running toward the iced
ribbon of river, hockey sticks and skates over their shoulders.
And the mountains stood over it all, like gods.
Watching them, he forgot about the cold, the wind, the isolation and
his own quiet misery.
Watching them, he felt alive.

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