THE INCIDENT

"JOHNNY SLAUGHT LOOKED UP when he heard the kid say, "Putthem back? You gotta be kidding."

He'd noticed the young guy earlier, the kid maybe eighteen orso, wearing a green and black skidoo jacket. It had the head of a bigcat on the back. A classic. He remembered maybe selling that jacketto the kid's dad a few years back. Slaught was pretty sure the oldman's name had been Cooper. Had a short fuse, that Cooper. Guesshis kid did too. The security guy and the kid were eye to eye now.

"Sir, I am going to ask you one more time. Return the gloves,they're the property of Talos."

"Don't be an asshole," the kid said. "I've been freezing out herewith these crappy things." He said it like the conversation was over,holding up both his hands to show the thin work gloves they'd allbeen given. A few of the guys had been complaining about themover coffee break.

Slaught thought maybe the kid was handling it wrong, sound-ing a bit too cheeky, the security guy starting to look seriouslypissed, sort of leaning into the kid, "Those are standard issue workgloves you have, like all the workers. So quit whining. The sooneryou're back to work, the sooner you're done."

The kid rolled his eyes. "I've been loading truck after truck ofyour shit for the past two months, all for a lousy food voucher andheating allowance. And as far as I can see, you and your buddies arejust fucking the dog. So tell you what, I'll keep the gloves, and youcan have this job, okay?"

Slaught could see the back of the security guy's head and thekid's face. The kid's face was red. Slaught figured it could be the coldor the kid might just be ready to blow a gasket. The security guy waswearing the dark green Talos uniform with an army style parka andthe yellow happy face badge on the sleeve. Christ, those badges.

"No. I'll tell you what, you little shit," the security guy said, notraising his voice but quickly sounding nasty, surprising Slaught, "putthe gloves back in the box or I'll have you arrested. Then you'll bedoing the same thing without the three squares a day plus that fuel."

Slaught put down his wrench and moved forward so he couldhear better. He looked down the platform to where most of theguys were loading crates onto a waiting truck. The truck wasrunning, coughing out a greasy trail of grey onto the snow, sendingthe stink of diesel up along the cement platform. Arrested? Slaughtfigured the guy must be bluffing. Slaught wasn't even sure Talosactually owned any of the shit they were taking out anyway, alsonot really sure whether they were a private company or some kindof government agency. What the fuck was Talos anyway? Lastmonth the guy who owned the hardware store in town had toldhim that Talos had come along with official looking requisitionforms, said they had the right to take what they needed and thenhad proceeded to empty the store. When Slaught heard that he'dmoved his snowmachines out of his showroom to his hunt camp,hiding them under tarps and brush. He'd already sold off most ofhis stock, there'd only been a dozen or so snowmachines left, butsure as shit Talos wasn't getting them."