Water Rites (33 page)
Authors: Mary Rosenblum
Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General, #Collections & Anthologies
“Kid, you just crawled.” Nita laughed softly. “All you need is practice now.”
Rachel rocked to her knees again, made it two crawling steps closer to a picture of a yellow trumpet-shaped blossom. Her chin banged the bare floor this time and she started to cry, angry more than hurt.
“It’s all right, all right.” Nita picked her up. Her daughter’s body felt tense, rigid with her effort. Hers was a hot, pure emotion, simple and direct.
I want!
Nita held Rachel close to the wall, smiling at her gurgling pleasure. Did any flowers grow in the camp they had passed? “You won’t grow up there,” she whispered to her daughter. “I promise.”
“This is turning out to be more fun than I expected.” Lydia spoke up. “Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to misfile permit applications in some very creative ways.”
Lydia was pleased. Nita leaned over her shoulder, but the jumble of letters and numbers on the screen meant nothing to her.
“Apparently a new company is behind the applications. The interesting thing is that this particular company — AgriCo — is owned by a dummy corporation. The majority stockholders are keeping a low profile.”
“Does that mean you can’t get the information?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Lydia sniffed. “What it means is that I have to sneak into some very tight stock exchange files and find out who really holds the reins here.” She hummed to herself. “Whoever did the hiding was good,” she said after awhile. “I bet it was Rico. It’s his style . . . although if it is Rico, he’s getting just a wee bit careless in his old age.” A second quadrant of the big screen flickered.
“What do you do here?” Nita asked, fascinated.
“Record keeping, inventory, formula integrations, payroll. Drudge work.” Lydia grimaced. “But Pacific Bio has bucks for tech, so I have state of the art hardware and software and they don’t bother me when I upgrade. Can’t ask for more than that. Aha!” Her fingers pounced and the screen flashed a column of numbers and letters. “It was Rico. Someday I’ll tell him about the hole he always leaves in his security jobs. Maybe. Your permits are burning now. I’ll have the CD for you in a moment and the hardcopy’s in the laser tray,” she said absently. “They’re all to AgriCo but in a minute . . .” She hissed softly, tapped more keys. “In a minute you’ll have the rest of what you need to link AgriCo to your mystery shareholders. There are only two real ones. The others are ghosts.” She lifted her hands from the keyboard and spun her wheeled stool around. “It’s all yours, honey. Got anything else I can play with? That was fun.”
“I don’t think so.” White sheets were sliding silently out into the tray, a squat plastic box, settling delicately into a wire tray. Nita lifted the top sheet.
“Your mystery duo went to a lot of trouble to hide. Smart of them to hire Rico, but they should have hired me.” Lydia smiled, full of satisfaction. “It wasn’t nearly as much of a challenge as I’d hoped. Rico must have been having a bad day.”
“I’m not sure I understand this.” Nita looked at the sheets. Some of them seemed to be copies of legal documents; others were lists of dates and dollar amounts.
“It’s all there — records of stock transfers to the dummies, sub-corporations, the whole messy electronic trail. Those are your men.” She pointed. “The names on line one. I’m a little surprised. I know Pacific Bio’s been trying to lever the general’s ass for years, but I thought he was cold steel legal.”
Nita stared at the paper, her skin flushing hot and cold. William Hastings. That was the first name. Carter’s boss — which put him squarely in the middle. But it was the second name that shook her.
Dan Greely.
“You’re wrong,” Nita said, and flinched with the hot flash of Lydia’s reaction. “I didn’t mean it like that. Renny said you were the best.”
“I am, at that. Nice that she noticed.” Lydia’s anger eased. “I’m not wrong, honey, I’m sorry. What happened to Renny’s arm, by the way? If I know her, she won’t tell me.”
“Someone shot at us. Because we were coming here to get this.” Nita shook the papers gently. “Lydia . . . I know that Dan Greely isn’t involved with this.” She looked at the woman’s strange eyes. “Is there any way that this might have been faked? To fool someone like you?”
“Honey, I trust my information a hell of a lot more than I trust your intuition.” Lydia crossed her arms, her eyes hooded. “I’m sorry your friend is twisted, but it happens. People lie all the time. Yes, someone could have gone to a whole lot of trouble to fake this, but I doubt it.”
She was worried about Renny and offended, too. “You’re the best,” Nita said desperately. “Maybe whoever did it wanted to make sure that they could fool even the best. Will you see if there’s anything else?”
Lydia shook her head. “I would have spotted something.”
“Someone’s going to laugh if you’re wrong.”
“Let them.” Lydia raised one eyebrow. “If they’re able to fool me they’re entitled to laugh.” She stood. “I’m going to go check on Renny.”
“She’s asleep.” Nita stepped in front of her. “I know she is. The same way I know Dan Greely isn’t in on it.” She sucked in a breath, feeling as if there wasn’t enough air in the room. “I can read minds. Sort of. That’s how I know Renny is asleep. And Dan didn’t do this. The information is a trick.” She ran out words, lightheaded.
Lydia was staring at her, eyes thoughtful, her surprise will hidden behind the calm mask of her face. “So how do you
sort of
read minds?”
“I . . . hear emotions. Not words or anything . . . not thoughts. But I know when someone’s . . . lying.”
“You could be lying.” Lydia laughed suddenly. “But I rather think you’d do a better job of being convincing if you were. I don’t think I’ll ask you to prove it.” Lydia tilted her head, considering. “Some truths I don’t think I want to know. Or the lies either.”
She was thinking of Renny. And she believed her. Nita felt dizzy with reaction. She had considered, doubted, and made her decision. Just like that. Nita swallowed the lump in her throat. “Will you do it? Find out what’s going on here?”
“Yeah, I’ll go look again.” Lydia frowned at her flowered wall. “I wish you
were
her lover,” she said quietly. “That’s about what it would take, to live with Renny. A mind reader. She needs . . . to care about someone enough to be careful. One of these days she’s not going to come back.”
Love? Yes. And anticipation of that day.
“She cares about you,” Nita blurted.
“I know.” Lydia’s eyebrows rose above her strange eyes. “She does, but I’m no empath. She pisses me off when she won’t tell me stuff, and I let it show, and she snarls at me, and we fight. I hate trucking and Renny goes nuts cooped up here.” She laughed. “But other than that we love each other.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. Sometimes.” Lydia shrugged and went to stand in front of her lights. “This is a cymbidium.” She picked up the buttery flower. “One of the techs cloned it for me. The original plant came from old-time Hawaii. This one is a ladyslipper, from a swamp that dried up decades ago. The cells come from the international germ plasm bank in northern China.”
Lydia’s flowers grew from frozen bits of the past. She would understand Jeremy. Nita watched Lydia replace the delicate blooms beneath the light. Renny didn’t talk about the past. She only looked ahead, at the road in front of her. Nita touched Lydia’s arm lightly. “Do you have a med kit or something?” she asked. “Renny just woke up and her arm was bleeding when she went to lie down. Her kit is locked in the truck.”
“I’ll get you what you need. If you can get Renny to let you do anything about it, you’re ahead of me.” Lydia sighed. “She’s so damn macho.”
They clattered down the stairs, past the vat of yellow sludge. “What is that?” Nita grimaced.
“Corn cells. They’re engineered to produce large amounts of oil. The pressed cells go into the new fake meat.”
“I see.” She’d definitely stick with beans.
Lydia took Nita to the company infirmary. The bright, clean room, crammed with a cupboards and equipment was empty. “Where is everyone?” Nita asked.
“It’s all automated. You’ve got a few maintenance people and Security. This is from when we had more workers.” Lydia collected a roll of gauze, tape, and sterile pads from various drawers. “What antibiotic is she on?”
“I don’t know the name. White tablets?”
“Like this?” Lydia opened a bottle, tipped two tablets into her palm.
“I think so.”
“You’re probably right. It’s one of the new ones that still work. It’s what she brings in with her ‘office supplies.’ Too bad I can’t have the doc look at her, but company policy is very very tight on that score.”
“Won’t you get in trouble for taking this stuff?” Nita looked up at the dark eye on a video camera. She’d noticed them in every corner. “Won’t they see?”
“Relax.” Lydia followed her gaze. “These are all digital pickups. I ran a handy little pre-edited segment before we came down here. We’ve got four and a half more minutes before Security sees anything but an empty plant.” She ushered Nita into the corridor. “I’ll check this situation again for you. I thought Rico was a little careless. Maybe he was careless on purpose.” She smiled a little sadly, her lavender gaze on Nita’s face. “I don’t envy you, honey. I don’t envy you at all. Go talk Renny into taking care of herself, will you? I’ll go see if Rico was being cute.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Y
ou have screwed up in every possible way in this command.” Hands clasped behind his back, General Hastings paced across Carter’s small bedroom. “You had no business letting Roscoe leave the Shunt, and your negligence cost us the lives of six soldiers.” He spun around, his finger stabbing at Carter, face as hard as carved stone. “I will personally see that you get busted for this, mister.”
“Sir.” Carter forced the word through tight lips. Whether or not Hastings had anything to do with this, he was right. He remembered the feel of the private’s coverall as the flood slammed them down the riverbed. He had clutched it in his dreams, coming out of surgery, had waked with bloody nailmarks on his palms. “Sir?” He pushed himself higher on the pillows, sucking in a breath as his broken ribs stabbed him. “I had a reason for what I did. With all due respect, sir . . .”
“Cut the formal crap, Voltaire.”
“All right, I will.” Hell, he was screwed anyway. “We need to find out who’s behind this.” Or do you want to, General? “It’s an outside setup, sir. I’m sure of it. And they have someone on the base.” He struggled higher in bed, fighting the buzz of the doctor’s painkillers, watching Hasting’s face. “Someone is trying to start a shooting war between the Corps and the locals and yes, the locals are playing right into it, but they’re not behind it. If we could have caught those snipers yesterday, we’d have found our connection. Sir.” He clenched his teeth as the room wavered in front of his eyes. “I made a bad judgment call yesterday, but we were set up. They know where and when we’d show up, right down to the last detail, sir. I’m trying to stop this war from happening.”
“Are you?” Hasting’s tone was icy. “I think everyone realizes that someone is tipping off the terrorists about patrol schedules. And that ambush yesterday.”
“Yes, sir.” Carter drew a shallow, careful breath. “I suspect it’s Major Delgado, sir.”
“The major has been reporting directly to me.” Hastings’s eyes pinned Carter. “On my orders. He’s been here as long as I have, and I trust
him
. I have my own theories about who is the leak around here. I’ve been keeping a close watch on your local connections. You and Greely are in on this together, Voltaire. It’s pretty damned obvious.”
Carter stared at Hastings, stunned. If anything, this confirmed his suspicions about the general. Johnny had been right. “I’ve dealt with the local leaders,” he said tightly. “But I’ve never betrayed the Corps. Sir.” Unlike you, you bastard, he thought.
“We’re going to look into that.” Hastings’s expression didn’t change. “Do I make myself clear, Colonel?”
“Yes, sir,” Carter said between his teeth.
“What action I decide to take will depend on my investigation here. Meanwhile, the situation calls for drastic measures, and I’m going to take them.” His gray eyes glittered. “These local troublemakers got away with it last time they acted up. Water Policy was soft and it wouldn’t endorse emergency measures, but it’s not so soft this time around. This time I put these terrorists in their place. After this we’ll get a whole lot more cooperation around here.”
Revenge, Carter thought. For his son. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to shut this stretch of riverbed dry, from the Klamath Shunt to the Willamette Shunt. Not one drop of water beyond the federal minimum goes through the meters. “
Which meant cutting it to the Personal Maintenance Allowance, the minimum share of water guaranteed to each citizen served by a federal water system. That wouldn’t give people around here enough water to keep kitchen crops alive, or do anything except survive. “You can’t do that.” Carter couldn’t stop himself. “General, that’s going to start the war for sure.”
“It already started. I’ve been granted full emergency powers by Water Policy. They’re scared that a big water loss will short Mexico and give Canada a reason to kick over the traces. Ask your buddy.” His lip curled. “I’ve been authorized to take whatever measures are needed to keep the southern share up to maximum. It comes right out of the share here —every drop. The break should be repaired by tomorrow, but the Willamette and Sacramento systems have lost over twenty-four hours of flow. If we divert everything over the calculated minimum down the shunts, we can minimize crop losses in the valleys and keep Mexico’s share constant. It’ll teach these terrorists a lesson they won’t forget for a long time.”
“Sir?” Carter swallowed. “Only a handful of people are involved in the sabotage. A lot of innocent farmers are going to lose their crops and their land.”
“They could have turned these terrorists in. They know who they are.” The general’s eyes had gone hard. “No innocent people live along this riverbed. I’ve asked for Rangers as backup, and my request has been granted. They’re unloading now.”
Rangers. Stunned, Carter sank back onto his pillow. Rangers were the elite and they hated this kind of call. Rangers had been brought in to back up the 82
nd
Airborne in Chicago. That had been when things got out of hand, although that particular fact had never made it into the media.
“Voltaire?” Hastings paused in the doorway. “Tell me what you know about Greely’s escape.”
“What?” Carter stared. “What escape? What are you talking about?”
“Someone sprung him while the Shunt was going down. Two men in uniforms. The guard saw that much before they hit him.”
“I don’t know, sir.” His head was full of buzzing.
“I finally heard how you ended up here.” Hastings’s gave him a contemptuous look. “Seems this senator did a little string pulling for a particular posting. As a favor for a friend. Targass is tight with Water Policy.” His lips twitched as if he wanted to spit. “Your buddy might be Water Policy but he can’t save your ass.”
Carter stared after him, barely registering the slam of the door. Someone had pulled strings to get him posted here. Through Senator Targass. The name rang a bell but the where and when wouldn’t come.
Nine Corps deaths this year, including Private Stakowski who had barely turned twenty. If Hastings shut down the local water, fields along the riverbed would dry up and blow away. How long would it take? Two days? A week?
“Sir?” A hesitant voice roused him. “Colonel Voltaire, sir?”
“In here.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I knocked.” Private Wasson appeared in the doorway to his bedroom, half hidden by the doorframe. “I’ll pull cleanup for a month if my sergeant hears about this.” She glanced nervously over her shoulder. “But I heard you got hurt bad, sir.”
“I’ll live.” Carter pushed himself painfully up onto the pillows again. “Thanks, Private.” She was waiting to ask him something. Not that he could do much. “What’s up?” he asked wearily.
“Sir, is it true that we’re going to shut the water down along the riverbed?”
Rumors got around way too fast in this place. He wondered if he’d heard that Hastings was out to bust him yet. “Yes. It’s true.”
“
Sir.”
The anguish and anger in that single tight syllable finally penetrated. Carter narrowed his eyes, seeing finally what she was trying to hide. “Private, come into the room. All the way in.”
She marched stiffly to the foot of his bed and stood at attention. The bruises on her face were dark and new. Her mouth was swollen and Carter saw a raw, ugly scrape on her arm blow the sleeve of her coverall.
“I was ready to go, yesterday,” she said in a low, taut voice. “I got permission from Captain Westerly, and I was as ready to shoot as any of the others. Maybe my family does live along the riverbed, but I’m Corps, sir.”
The rumor about Roscoe getting set up surely had gone around by now, too. Carter sighed, rubbed his face. “You made a tough decision and I took it away from you. I didn’t do it very well, either. I apologize, Private. I hope they look worse than you do.”
“Thank you, sir. One of them does.” She lifted her chin. “This would have happened sooner or later anyway, sir.”
“I’m sorry about your family,” he said. “I’m sorry about all the people who are going to pay for this when it isn’t their debt. I did my best to keep the promise I made to you.”
The private was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the wall above Carter’s head. “Sir? Is it true that the guy we’ve been holding has escaped? The head honcho from The Dalles?”
“It’s true.”
“You weren’t . . . moving him, sir? Like down to Bonneville?”
Carter shook his head, his eyes on her face. “He wasn’t going anywhere until the U.S. Marshal showed up to claim him. Why?”
“I saw something, while everyone was . . . at the Shunt.” Wasson scowled at the floor. “An officer and an NCO were taking this man out to a car — graying hair, kind of tall, wearing jeans and he was kind of wobbly. I stopped to see if they needed any help. The guy was in cuffs, and the lieutenant said he was a prisoner, that they were moving him down to Bonneville, sir. I’m pretty sure it was the guy from town, the one who’s always in front of things.”
“Would you recognize the others again?” Carter sat forward gingerly.
“I . . .
did
recognize the corporal. He’s down at Bonneville. I was there before I got transferred up here.” Wasson looked at him finally. “He’s from Hood River.”
Back to Hastings again. A cold anger was forming in his belly. “Thanks.” He held out his hand to her. “You’re Corps, first. I won’t forget it.”
She gripped his hand hard, released it abruptly. “If someone from the Corps is behind this, I’ll find out.”
The smoldering heat in her eyes worried him. “We’ll do it my way,” he told her urgently. “I’ll pull a personnel record for you, and you see if you can recognize this corporal’s name. Don’t discuss this with anyone, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll keep my mouth shut and my ears open.”
“I’ll call your CO and get you assigned to HQ platoon as my aide. We’ll go over the records together.”
“Yes, sir. Wasson saluted smartly, her eyes glittering. “I’ll recognize that guy’s name.” She spun on her heel and marched out of the room, nearly colliding with Johnny as he came through the front door.
“What was that all about?” Johnny pulled off dust goggles and tossed them onto the chest of drawers. “Man, it’s windy out there today. You look a lot better than the last time I saw you. They were wheeling you into surgery, as I recall.”
“What are you doing here?” Carter grimaced as he leaned forward. “How did you mange to show up in time to pull me out of the water?” He managed a grin for Johnny. “Talk about timing.”
“I tagged along with the media.” He sat down on the foot of Carter’s bed. “I’ve got an inside source on the payroll, and she tipped me off. I guess someone called them and told them about the fireworks. You didn’t see the newscasts, huh? It’s all over the net.”
“Yeah, so I hear.” Carter clenched a fist. “The country thinks we’re in a war and in a day or two, we will be.”
“Hey, the public’s pissed at the locals, not at you guys.” Johnny shrugged. “You’re heroes. Keeping the water flowing, all that stuff. Another food shortage is hitting the east coast hard. You’ll get applause for anything you do, believe me.”
“It’s not the publicity angle. It’s what’s going to happen here that worries me.”
“That’s the locals’ problem.” Johnny shrugged. “They started this mess. They get to deal with the results, not you.”
“You don’t get it.” Carter groaned and slumped back onto his pillows as pain gripped him.
“Hey, are you okay?” Johnny leaned forward, worried. “They wouldn’t let
me
on the base, yesterday. Hastings has this place nailed shut. I had to go through Washington to get past the old fart.”
“No wonder he was snarling about Water Policy today.” Carter breathed shallowly, waiting for the spasm to pass. “I broke four ribs, one nicked a lung. I’ve got a rubber drain in for a couple of days, but everything should grow back together. Johnny, I’m essentially under arrest,” he said bitterly. “Hastings accused me of setting this up.”
Johnny leaned back, arms crossed, face thoughtful. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“You did mean him. On the phone.”
“I couldn’t say so. Not on an unsecure cell. We have absolutely no concrete proof.” Johnny shook his head, his expression sober. “I think I almost got you killed.”
“My own stupidity almost got me killed.” Carter closed his eyes as the fanged python squeezing his ribs finally relaxed. “I wish I’d known sooner, though.”
“I just found out. My buddy Paul in DC has been snooping around for me, digging whatever dirt he can on the general. I thought you might need it.”
Paul. The name clicked. Paul Targass. “You did it.” He stared at Johnny. “You had Targass get me posted out here.
Goddamnit,
Johnny.”
“Hey.” Johnny recoiled. “Take it easy. Yes, I did that,” he said harshly. “Why not? You’re a good officer and I needed you out here. Pacific Bio’s already on my back, I couldn’t trust Hastings. If I mess up here, the rest of the Committee will be after me like sharks. I’m not . . . very popular.” He met Carter’s eyes. “I had a chance to get you stationed out here and I took it. I needed you to watch my back. So I’m a selfish prick, okay?” He looked away. “Buy you know that.”
“I wish you hadn’t done it.” Carter sighed. That was Johnny. Do it first and apologize later. Or never. “Well, I’m here, and I think you’re right about Hastings. I’m almost sure Delgado is in on it, too. That flood happened because of a fried board. The flow should have shut down in seconds, but it was three minutes before Operations ran the override and shut the valves. That emergency system is checked weekly. The last recorded inspection was only two days before the break.”
“You think Delgado sabotaged it?”
“I think Andy Stakowski and five others died because of it,” Carter said. “Someone gets to pay for that.”
Tomorrow a truck would carry the six caskets to the dry plot of ground that was the base’s cemetery. A flag would cover each casket. They would flutter in the dusty wind as a firing party fired three volleys. The chaplain would read a moving service, a bugler would play ‘Taps,’ the flags would be folded and presented to the next of kin. The river had covered that piece of ground once. Jeremy would see water if he looked at the graves. That’s what those men and women had died to protect, Carter thought bitterly. Not freedom, not democracy. Just water.