The Approach
"Look at the water - it's so cool and blue."
"I can't wait to dive in - it must be 45 degrees out here"
Albert's range rover trundled across the dunes. Its tires splashed through the soft dusty sand.
"When we go off road, I can feel the tires digging into the light colored parts. The dark red areas seem to be harder."
"Good thing we have four wheel drive." said Frank
"You can get yourself in a lot of trouble out here in this heat. The two bottles of water in the back, wouldn't last long if we had to walk."
For miles, the small dunes rippled into the distance like waves on a calm pond. In the distance, the earth thrust up into tabletop mountains.
"Why are those hills so flat?"
"Those aren't hills. That's the Project. They are digging out the foundation, and that's where they are piling up what they dig."
"All of them?" asked Frank. He couldn't believe it.
"Every last one. There are no natural mountains this close to the gulf. It's naturally flat sand for 10 km inland from the water. Further than you can see. Before the Project, it was a sea of sand next to the sea of water."
Up ahead the bungalows appeared. They looked out of place, like they had been transplanted from the Caribbean. Cheerful tiki torches, plastic floats.
"The Bungalows are for the staff?" asked Frank.
"Yes. We are allowed to use them. I don't know if they are open though. I'm sure we will be able to get in though - it won't hurt to use the lawn chairs while we swim."
A Question
"What do you think of the last all hands meeting?" Frank ventured. It was always hard to know where people stood. There were so many sides one could stand on. He wasn't sure if Albert would be suspicious of the question.
"Farah needs to be more careful." after a pause.
"Seems like a big strategy change." Frank pressed a bit.
"Third one so far this year. Can't figure out if we are supposed to be a product company, a holding company, or a reseller."
"Maybe it doesn't matter much" Frank pressed a dangerous line of inquiry.
"Well, we need to make money"
"Do we? Doesn't seem like JT cares much."
"Well, he has his car collection already" laughed Albert. The tension broke, once it was clear they had the same same idea.
"I think if we make our targets and get a couple of customers on board we'll be fine for the next year and a half."
"Hell, we don't even need real customers. Just someone who says they might be interested in being our customer someday."
"Enough to make JT look good in front of the board - thats all we need to keep the thing going."
Arrival
They parked the range rover outside of the weathered bamboo privacy fence. The bungalow was deserted, but the door was unlocked. They walked in. The cool air conditioned foyer gave way to courtyard centered on a long cocktail bar.
"Just juice" sighed Albert.
"When are the others arriving?" asked Frank.
"They should have been here already. I bet they got lost at that last turn." Said Albert. His phone rang. "Yeah? Ok, we are coming out. Yeah. We are already went inside. About to take a swim. How far are you?"
Albert hung up. "Let's go - she's stuck"
Frank laughed. It was always something with Farah. Back out side the bungalow, her dark blue four door sedan sat low in the sand, wheels spinning and kicking up a plume of dust behind it. Three people pushed meekly at the sides.
Frank and Albert waded through the soft sand to the helpless car.
"Why didn't you stay on the dark parts?" asked Albert with a grin. "I thought you've done this before."
Farah leaned out of the car door sheepishly. "The sand is so soft here!"
"The tracks are all over there. We came in that way"
It was a bit late for navigation advice, but Farah ignored the jibe. Frank and Albert joined the other passengers in pushing the back, but their legs did not find purchase. The wheels spun, kicking up a cloud of dust that drifted slowly toward the water.
"We need to get something underneath the tires. They are just digging deeper in the sand." Frank was already sweating, but no sooner did the drops form, then they were replaced by small salty crusts. He jogged over to a low bamboo fence surrounding the bungalows. There was a cinder block, he carried it heavily back to the car. "Let's put this under a rear wheel"
The team, for that's what they were, stood and watched as Frank dug out a matching depression in the sand in front of the rear wheel. He rolled the block into it, and wiggled it into place.
"If we can wedge the block under the tire, maybe the car can pull itself up onto the block, and get out" Frank explained. While stomping it down under the tire. The sand was thin, but the block was large and heavy - and mostly submerged.
"Give it a go" The tires caught, but as the car started to rise, the tires slipped. There was a screech of rubber on concrete, and the wheels spun once again.
Stuck
There were a few conversations going on by now. Everyone was sweating and talking. The ideas were coming, and the team jovially pitched various ideas to each other. A bamboo slat was proposed, but the fencing was would have to be broken to get one.
The group was laughing and joking. Talking office politics, and teasing each other when the sand sprayed their pants. Farah was the subject of a few jokes, but they were lighthearted, and collegial. She grinned sheepishly, and hey, it could happen to anyone.
The sun glared down. When they had arrived it was only 9 am, but now the temperature had risen to the mid 40's. Now, after 30 minutes of pushing, the car had not moved, but the sun rotated higher and higher. The bungalows were still empty. No staff had arrived yet.
The plan to repurpose the fence had been futile, and the cement block just slipped against the back tires. A mission to the bungalow had revealed no useful items. The group was running out of ideas, and the joking had started to grow tedious.
Frank realized that he had forgotten his sunblock. It was a business trip after all. Meetings were held in doors. This had been an unplanned trip - a lark with his new co-workers. A way to kill a Friday in the desert. Now the radiation pierced his pale skin. He thoughts drifted to nuclear reactions, and gamma rays when he realized he wasn't sweating. He wasn't dehydrated - not yet anyway - he was sure of it.
He thought about how it could be possible, and as he pondered, licked his dry lips. The salty crust answered his question. His sweat was being lapped dry by the rays as fast as it appeared. He suddenly felt nervous and naked. The salty water of the gulf beckoned. It promised a cooling swim, but nothing to drink. The bungalows were locked tight, and showed no signs of opening soon. As the clock turned 10 am, it seemed unlikely.
Everyone stared at each other and the realization hit, but the shared knowledge was unsaid.
Farah said "I guess we could just go ahead and swim - maybe we can figure it out later. Getting really hot..." But no one wanted to swim.
Rescue
From behind the bungalow a slow moving vehicle appeared. It was a front loader. A huge machine with tracks. Albert waved his arms and shouted. The machine drew slowly closer. Farah exchanged a few words in Arabic, and the men operating the machine laughed and jumped down. A nylon strap the thickness of a firehose was produced and looped over the rear axel. In a few minutes, that seemed like an eternity in the sun, the car was dragged slowly towards the bungalow. The tires slid through the soft sand, riding up like skis behind a boat, a wake of sand trailing behind.
Cheers and laughter followed and their helplessness was soon forgotten. Washed away by the cool blue water.