of the trip, but then she transferred.”
“We did see Zina on deck—at the stern rail, in fact,” Bernie said.
“Where your station is?”
“Right. There’s always a company rep at the stern when the fish are transferred. Zina would come out and watch with us.”
“Often?”
“Sure.”
“Your station is …?” Arkady turned apologetically to Lantz.
“The trawl deck.”
“You were on watch when the net bearing Zina came on deck?”
Lantz brushed cigarette ash from his sweater and sat up. For such a tall boy he had a small skull and the raked hair of a narcissist. “It was cold. I was inside having some tea. The deckhands know they’re supposed to tell me when a bag is coming up the ramp.”
Even belowdecks in the din of the factory line, Arkady knew when a net was coming aboard by the high whine of the hydraulic winch and the shift in the ship’s engines from half speed to dead slow as the net cleared the water, followed by the return to half speed as it came up the ramp. In his sleep he knew when fish were coming on board. Nobody had needed to call Lantz from a glass of tea.
“You enjoyed the dance?” Arkady asked.
“Terrific dance,” Bernie said.
“Especially Slava’s band,” said Day.
“You danced with Zina?” Arkady asked.
“Zina had more interest in the motorcycle gang,” Lantz said.
“Gang?” Arkady asked.
“Fishermen,” Bernie explained. “American fishermen, not yours.”
“Boy, your English is really good,” said Day. “You’re from the factory?”
“The slime line,” Susan said as she entered and threw her jacket on a bunk. She pulled off a wool cap, releasing thick blond hair cut short. “You started without me,” she told Slava. “I’m the head rep. You know you don’t talk to my boys without me.”
“I’m sorry, Susan.” Slava was contrite.
“As long as it’s clear.”
“Yes.”
Susan had taken command, that was obvious, with the imperious manner small people sometimes have of inserting themselves into the center of a situation. Her eyes darted around the cabin, taking roll call.
“It’s about Zina and the dance,” Bernie said. “This Seaman Renko with Slava said he didn’t have any questions, but I think he does.”
“In English,” she said. “I heard.” She turned to Arkady. “You want to know who danced with Zina? Who knows. It was dark and everyone was bobbing up and down. One second you’re dancing with one person and the next you’re dancing with three. You dance with men or women or both. It’s like water polo without the water. Now, let’s talk about you. Slava told me you have experience with accidents.”
“Comrade Renko served as an investigator for the Moscow prosecutor’s office,” Slava said.
“And what did you investigate?” she asked Arkady.
“Very bad accidents.”
She studied him as if he were auditioning for a part and not doing well. “How convenient that you happened to be cleaning fish on the factory line of this ship. Aninvestigator all the way from Moscow? Fluent in English? Cleaning fish?”
“Employment is guaranteed in the Soviet Union,” Arkady said.
“Fine,” Susan said. “I would suggest that you save all your other questions for Soviet citizens. Zina is a Soviet problem. If I hear you’ve approached any American stationed on this ship again, I’m going straight to Captain Marchuk.”
“No more questions,” Slava said and pushed Arkady to the door.
“I have a last question,” Arkady said. He asked the men, “You’re looking forward to Dutch Harbor?”
This broke the tension a little.
“Two more days,” Bernie said. “I’m going to the hotel, get the best room, sit in a hot shower and drink an ice-cold six-pack of beer.”
“Soo-san?” Arkady liked saying it that way, making her name Russian.
“Two more days and I’m gone,” she said. “You’ll get a new head rep in Dutch and I’ll be flying out of the fog to California, so you can say good-bye to me
“We did see Zina on deck—at the stern rail, in fact,” Bernie said.
“Where your station is?”
“Right. There’s always a company rep at the stern when the fish are transferred. Zina would come out and watch with us.”
“Often?”
“Sure.”
“Your station is …?” Arkady turned apologetically to Lantz.
“The trawl deck.”
“You were on watch when the net bearing Zina came on deck?”
Lantz brushed cigarette ash from his sweater and sat up. For such a tall boy he had a small skull and the raked hair of a narcissist. “It was cold. I was inside having some tea. The deckhands know they’re supposed to tell me when a bag is coming up the ramp.”
Even belowdecks in the din of the factory line, Arkady knew when a net was coming aboard by the high whine of the hydraulic winch and the shift in the ship’s engines from half speed to dead slow as the net cleared the water, followed by the return to half speed as it came up the ramp. In his sleep he knew when fish were coming on board. Nobody had needed to call Lantz from a glass of tea.
“You enjoyed the dance?” Arkady asked.
“Terrific dance,” Bernie said.
“Especially Slava’s band,” said Day.
“You danced with Zina?” Arkady asked.
“Zina had more interest in the motorcycle gang,” Lantz said.
“Gang?” Arkady asked.
“Fishermen,” Bernie explained. “American fishermen, not yours.”
“Boy, your English is really good,” said Day. “You’re from the factory?”
“The slime line,” Susan said as she entered and threw her jacket on a bunk. She pulled off a wool cap, releasing thick blond hair cut short. “You started without me,” she told Slava. “I’m the head rep. You know you don’t talk to my boys without me.”
“I’m sorry, Susan.” Slava was contrite.
“As long as it’s clear.”
“Yes.”
Susan had taken command, that was obvious, with the imperious manner small people sometimes have of inserting themselves into the center of a situation. Her eyes darted around the cabin, taking roll call.
“It’s about Zina and the dance,” Bernie said. “This Seaman Renko with Slava said he didn’t have any questions, but I think he does.”
“In English,” she said. “I heard.” She turned to Arkady. “You want to know who danced with Zina? Who knows. It was dark and everyone was bobbing up and down. One second you’re dancing with one person and the next you’re dancing with three. You dance with men or women or both. It’s like water polo without the water. Now, let’s talk about you. Slava told me you have experience with accidents.”
“Comrade Renko served as an investigator for the Moscow prosecutor’s office,” Slava said.
“And what did you investigate?” she asked Arkady.
“Very bad accidents.”
She studied him as if he were auditioning for a part and not doing well. “How convenient that you happened to be cleaning fish on the factory line of this ship. Aninvestigator all the way from Moscow? Fluent in English? Cleaning fish?”
“Employment is guaranteed in the Soviet Union,” Arkady said.
“Fine,” Susan said. “I would suggest that you save all your other questions for Soviet citizens. Zina is a Soviet problem. If I hear you’ve approached any American stationed on this ship again, I’m going straight to Captain Marchuk.”
“No more questions,” Slava said and pushed Arkady to the door.
“I have a last question,” Arkady said. He asked the men, “You’re looking forward to Dutch Harbor?”
This broke the tension a little.
“Two more days,” Bernie said. “I’m going to the hotel, get the best room, sit in a hot shower and drink an ice-cold six-pack of beer.”
“Soo-san?” Arkady liked saying it that way, making her name Russian.
“Two more days and I’m gone,” she said. “You’ll get a new head rep in Dutch and I’ll be flying out of the fog to California, so you can say good-bye to me
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