Dana Stabenow - Whisper to the Blood

"Thank you, Ms. Mike. Moving on. Old business." She looked up. "I move that we table old business today. There is nothing left over that is pressing and we've got the general shareholders meeting to get to."

"Second," Old Sam said.

"It is moved and seconded that the board carry any old business forward to the next regularly scheduled board meeting. Debate?" There was none. "Those in favor, say aye."

Auntie Joy, Old Sam, and Kate said aye. Harvey was back to looking furious. "The ayes have it, and the motion is adopted. Next item. New business."

Kate sat back in her chair and fixed Harvey with a cold and unflinching eye. "I have three items I wish to bring to the board's attention this morning."

Harvey stiffened, and she knew he was thinking that she was about to bring up his job with GHRI, whatever it might be.

"All three items," Kate said, "will by Association rules be put to the vote before the general shareholders meeting."

"Along with the election of the board members," Harvey said, rallying.

"Out of order, Mr. Meganack, but so noted. First on our agenda is the creation of an advisory committee consisting of qualified volunteers drawn from Association shareholders to advise and consent to every single step Global Harvest Resources takes in developing and producing the Suulutaq Mine. Further, I propose that we approach Global Harvest Resources to fund said committee. At this time, I so move."

"Second," Old Sam said promptly.

"The motion to create an advisory committee for the Suulutaq Mine and to make Global Harvest pay for it is moved and seconded," Kate said. "Debate? The chair recognizes Mr. Meganack."

Harvey had shot to his feet but he'd also had the sense to wait this time until he was recognized. "You want to put our people on Global Harvest's payroll? Won't that make them more rather than less inclined to sign off on anything GH wants to do?"

The irony inherent in his protest seemed not to occur to Harvey. "Not if we choose the committee members carefully," Kate said, and added softly, "and watch them."

He reddened. "Who'd you have in mind for this committee?"

She looked at him. "You, for a start."

It was hard to say who was more surprised by this blunt statement, Auntie Joy or Harvey. Old Sam, of course, gave out with his braying laugh. Demetri remained his taciturn silent self.

"I seem to recall you have a degree in civil engineering from the University of Alaska Anchorage," Kate said. "You've got the education required, you're a shareholder, and you're even a member of the board, duly elected, which means you're trusted by the shareholders to run things right. Who better?"

Harvey sat down as if his legs had suddenly given out from under him.

Kate figured she couldn't beat Global Harvest in a race for Harvey 's mercenary heart, but she could damn well give them some competition. She wasn't going to out Harvey, not yet anyway. Either Harvey would realize how inappropriate-and how impossible-it was to try to serve two masters, or he'd eventually have enough rope to hang himself with.

"Any further discussion?" she said. There wasn't. "All in favor?" Unanimous. "The board moves that the creation of a Suulutaq Advisory Committee be brought before the general membership at today's meeting. Second item on the agenda. I move that we ask the general membership to increase the Niniltna Native Association board from five members to nine."

"What! Katya!"

"Out of order, Ms. Shugak," Kate said, ignoring the stricken expression on Auntie Joy's face, albeit not without a twinge of conscience.

"Second," Old Sam said, although not quite as promptly as he had before. He looked at Kate with a quizzical eye, as if to say he'd go along, but only until and unless she proved her case.

"Moved and seconded," Kate said. "Discussion."

"Madam Chair!" Harvey said, on his feet.

"Madam Chair!" Auntie Joy said, on hers.

"The chair recognizes herself," she said, and got to her own feet. Auntie Joy subsided, hurt. Harvey subsided, pissed off at being steamrollered.

"I went back and checked the records of previous meetings," Kate said. "On average, we have to cancel one a year due to lack of a quorum." Quoting from what she was beginning to refer to as the Book, at least to herself, she said, "'Any substantive action taken in the absence of a quorum is invalid.' Lacking a quorum, the Association board can't get its business done. Four more members on the board means four more paychecks, true enough. But if we establish five members-the same number we have now-as the minimum number required to constitute a quorum, with a nine-member board we can be four members short and still get the job done." She paused, looking around at each board member for effect. "And there's going to be a lot to get done, shortly."

She sat down and recognized Auntie Joy, who beat Harvey to his feet by a hair second. Auntie Joy spoke forcefully if incoherently on the value of tradition, of institutions created out of necessity and the importance of inclusion, the responsibility of the governing body to run a frugal business, and of the virtue inherent in running such a business. After a while she ran out of steam, looked confused, and sat down without offering an amendment to the motion. Kate didn't remind her, either.

In the meantime, Harvey, looking unusually thoughtful, had thought better of speaking and waved a dismissive hand when Kate looked at him. "The chair moves that the motion to increase the Niniltna Native Association board from five members to nine should be brought before the general membership for approval. All in favor say aye."

Kate, Old Sam, Demetri, and Harvey voted aye. Auntie Joy said nay and looked as if she might burst into tears.

Kate hardened her heart. "Last item. I move we commission a new NNA logo."

"Second," Demetri said, and everyone looked at him in surprise.

"Moved and seconded," Kate said, with a nod to Demetri. "Debate?" No one said anything so she held up the NNA mug with the ink blot logo. "This logo sucks. It's not instantly recognizable, it doesn't say Park or NNA or anything at all, really. Plus it's poorly drawn and it's ugly. Symbols are important. Take Global Harvest's logo, for one example. Sunrise over the Quilaks. They're practically branding the Park with it. I move that at today's general meeting we tell the membership that the board is starting a contest, beginning today and running, what, six months? Mr. Totemoff?"

"Make it nine months," Demetri said, standing. "Give momentum time to build, word of mouth to spread, get people excited. The more entries we get the more choice we'll have. Choose the winner at the October board meeting and unveil the new logo at the general meeting next January. Besides, be good not to do any of this before, during, or after fishing season."

"No kidding," Old Sam said, and flashed his evil grin when Kate gave him the evil eye for speaking out of turn.

"The motion is to have a contest for NNA shareholders to create a new Association logo. All in favor?"

Unanimous.

Really, Kate thought, there was nothing to running a board meeting.

Not when you'd spent the last month memorizing the first ninety-five pages of Robert's Rules of Order (Newly Revised, In Brief), there wasn't.

You can't stop the Suulutaq Mine," Kate said, "and I'll tell you why. "

A thousand dollars an ounce." Most of the Niniltna Native Association's 237 shareholders were in the Niniltna School gymnasium that afternoon, sitting on gray metal folding chairs. There was a continual susurration of whispering, an occasional baby's cry, the clink of dishes as aunties Vi, Edna, and Balasha set out a potluck lunch on a row of tables at the back of the room.

Kate was front and center on the little stage, speaking into a microphone, not liking the sound of her voice as it reverberated off the high ceiling, not liking being the cynosure of all eyes, hating the position of responsibility and leadership into which she had been thrust this day. Oh Emaa, if you could see me now, wouldn't you be pleased.