Okay here it is again folks, this time edited by walkingliberty to who I owe a great deal of gratitude for coming to my rescue by straightening out the grammar and catching all those little things I missed.
As for grammar, in the dialog between characters is it written in the colloquial dialect of Ontario, Canada. To quote Cromagnonman "No-one that I know speaks grammatically correct English with perfect syntax. So I write it as these people would speak it."
When I write I 'hear' what the characters would say, and write what I hear.
Copyright 2014
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Cameron Grant hung up the phone softly cursing, "Bitch," describing his opinion of the woman at the other end of the call. Granted, the delays in the new project that had brought on the call where causing the project to run over budget, but anyone who knew about mining should be aware that new methods invariably run into snags.
He had written a treatise on the geophysics of the project for them. He had painstakingly explained that applying theoretical science to actual rocks would necessitate some modifications. He explained to them that the salt bed itself was not homogeneous throughout, then had explained that homogeneous throughout meant that that from foot to foot down the tunnel there could be changes in the structure of the salt bed.
Why they couldn't see the payoff of a sixty percent increase in salt extraction was worth it in the long run baffled him.
Now he was going to have to deal with the new head office pain face to face, as she had told him she was coming in person in a week to inspect the project. What some bean counter from Cenozoic Mining's head office in Montreal would possibly get out of going underground was beyond him.
***
A week later he was summoned while inspecting the test area because the bitch had arrived, demanding he meet her at the man cage at mine level and escort her to the test site. It meant he had to stop the readings he was taking and waste a half hour being a taxi driver, not to mention the time wasted explaining yet again what he was doing. By the time he had secured his scientific instruments and reached the bottom of the shaft he was fuming. When he received the message that she would be another half hour, he was furious.
The shift boss, seeing him standing around waiting, asked if he was going back to the test site. When Cameron said that he would be as soon the head office person arrived, the shift boss asked if it would be too much trouble to drop off supplies to the miner's lunch room, which would only be a short detour on his way back to the test site.
The vehicle Cam was driving was a special built, four wheel drive type of diesel pickup truck. Instead of the usual thin steel the body was fabricated out of eighth inch thick plate. It was completely open with bench's down the side of the interior of the box so it could be used as a personnel carrier if need be. As there was plenty of cargo space between the benches it could handle the small load easily.
Cameron was on good terms with all the underground personnel. Knowing that staying that way meant he got excellent co-operation when he needed help, he was more than happy to take the supplies. If it irritated the head office bimbo at the same time it would be a bonus.
He had his back turned to the shaft when she finally arrived. His first notice was, "Ahem, are you Cameron Grant?"
"Yes and you must be W. Allison Thomas. What the hell took you so long? I'm running behind schedule on my instrument readings and we need to make a fifteen minute side trip before we get to the test area."
"Why?"
"I have supplies to drop off at the miner's lunch building."
"I have a plane to catch back to Montreal and don't have time. You'll just have to deliver that stuff when I leave."
In their brief interaction, the only physical thing he noticed about her was the cold, hard blue eyes and the harsh set of her mouth.
As they were driving Ms. Thomas decided she wanted to test Cameron's commitment to the project so she asked him to tell her about what he was doing.
"Haven't you read my reports?" he responded.
"I have but I want to hear it from you."
He muttered about bitches playing games then started, "As you know our current production tunneling method is to drive the forty five foot tunnels in a grid pattern leaving pillars of one hundred and eighty five feet to support the tunnel roof. This has caused the working faces to move farther and farther from the mine shafts."
As they approached a tunnel intersection where the cross tunnel was also used by traffic he paused his talk to turn off the headlights and concentrate on what he could see at the intersection. He then turned the lights on again.
He was about to continue to speak when she asked, "Why did you do that?"
"Production equipment has the right of way and the miners long ago learned that they could see the reflection of the headlights of cross traffic on the pillars if they killed their own lights saving the time of stopping at every intersection. The production trucks, that haul the salt from the working faces, are thirty five ton Cat off road dump trucks. With those beasts loose down here I like to make really sure nothing is coming.
Continuing what I was saying, using the old system with its wastage we now have to drive three miles to get to the working face. When they started the mine the science of geophysics was in its infancy so they erred on the side of caution. In studying sedimentary rock beds we found that we could create a system where we could possibly drive three tunnels, and eighty foot wide one between two sixty footers with a twenty feet of pillar before needing a one eighty five pillar on the outside wall of the sixty footers."
There was a clanking sound causing her to interrupt in alarm asking, "What was that?"
Calmly Cam replied, "That was a rock bolt that snapped when it got stretched too far. Remind me to report it to the mine captain when we get back."
"What is a rock bolt?" she asked, reassured by his calm demeanor.
"The rock, as you should know, is sedimentary, that is it is in layers. It is always settling and the rock bolts, which are fourteen feet long, are put into place so we know when the roof has sagged to the point it may collapse. They then blast the dangerous area before it falls on its own."
At the following intersection they heard three more rock bolt clanks as he made a left turn and headed down a tunnel that at first seemed to have no cross tunnels. At what Ms. Thomas estimated to be twice the length of a normal pillar she saw openings to her left.