Water Rites (15 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Y
ou’re damn lucky Delgado found you in time.” General Hastings’ face filled the screen on Carter’s desk. “I’d file charges against Greely’s bunch tomorrow, but that damned judge Lindstrom won’t issue a warrant. He’s been on the side of the Coalition since day one.”

“There’s no hard evidence that the Coalition was behind it.” Carter kept his tone as neutral as possible. “Someone got onto the base with a forged pass. The guard went through our file of local troublemakers, but he couldn’t make a positive ID. It wasn’t Greely. Believe me, I stuck the photo right under his nose.”

“He wouldn’t be at the wheel.” Hastings’ snort was contemptuous. “He’s not stupid.”

Carter shut up. No point in continuing this discussion. It might well have been some stooge of Greely’s. But Greely had called Carter the day after Delgado had brought him in. He’d been upset — worried that Carter would blame the Coalition. And he’d been ignorant of the circumstances of the kidnap incident . . . or a damn good actor. Another player here? Who? Carter sighed. “I saw one of ’em. I wish I could remember him clearly enough for an ID.”

“Me, too.” Hastings’ face enlarged, as if he had leaned closer to his terminal pickup. “I wish I knew what they were after. It’d give me a better idea of what we can expect around here.”

Carter had a feeling that Hastings wouldn’t have grieved much if they’d ODed him in the process. Tough luck, getting stuck with this bastard, but he’d survived Hastings’ type before. Do your job well, keep a low profile, and pray you got transferred out before you collected too many poor evaluations.

“I assume you’ve dealt with your security problem.”

“Yes, sir.” Which was a flat lie. Arris still couldn’t find Greely’s goddamned hole. Carter’s back was itching again and the need to scratch made him sweat. His skin was peeling off in sheets and the bloody itching never stopped. “That kidnap bothers me,” he said slowly. “They must have guessed that the broken down car would put someone on my track the minute you put a chopper into the air.” Delgado had been right about that stunt. Carter shook his head. “They also had to figure that I’d walk north, heading for the riverbed. If I did, I was bound to cross that road. People use it all the time. It was a better than even chance that someone would find me.” Carter scowled at the fading bruise of the injection site. “I don’t think they meant to kill me.”

Hastings grunted.

“We had another sabotage attempt last night,” Carter continued doggedly. He reached for the hardcopy report of last night’s incident. The skin between his shoulder blades itched and he willed it to stop. It didn’t stop. “One of the patrols scared them off. The shaped charge they left behind would have punched a pretty good hole in the Pipe. Quite professional. I need more people,” he said bluntly. “I’ve got everyone putting in extra duty hours already. We can’t keep this up.”

“I can’t give you any more.” Hastings looked down at his desk. “Anything else to report, Colonel?”

“General, morale is going downhill fast. These doubled patrols might stop the sabotage, but I’m running everyone ragged.” He had hired civilians to help with the mess and housekeeping, but attrition was high. Working for the uniforms didn’t make you very popular in town.

Hastings was scowling. “I sent in a request for more troops and got turned down. Water Policy is soft-pedaling. Probably because of Chicago.” His stare was accusing. “A lot of people thought we overreacted there —thanks to the damn media.” His lips twitched as if he wanted to spit. “If you start a war in The Dalles, Colonel, you’re on your own.”

Thanks for nothing. Carter clenched his teeth against the need to scratch. Johnny was going to be in town tomorrow. He’d ask him if this Water Policy line was on the level. The same ugly darkness of Chicago was starting to seep in here. Us and Them. Carter realized he was scratching his shoulder, yanked his hand away. “Sir?” He drew a deep breath. “I’ve talked to Greely,” he said. “I’m going to meet with the Coalition leaders this afternoon.”

“Are you crazy?”

Hastings wasn’t reacting any better than Delgado had. “No, sir. If we’re going to keep a lid on things, we have to do some talking. Or we
will
have a war on our hands.” He hesitated, gauging Hastings’ frown. “I might pick up some critical details, sir.”

“You might get yourself killed this time. You’re underestimating Greely. He is the Coalition.”

“Believe me, I’m not underestimating him.”

“Aren’t you?” Hastings’ expression was hard. “He worked for the Corps as a civilian employee, back when he was a scruffy kid. It was my first year here in Bonneville. He’s bright, all right. He worked up to surveyor’s assistant, then he ran off with some pretty expensive equipment. He played a scam all over the eastern half of Washington and Oregon, pretending to be a Corps surveyor. He took what he wanted and paid people off in fake Corps scrip. This is the con man you’re dealing with, Voltaire. Don’t get too wowed by that golden tongue. He’s had a lot of practice.”

Huh. Carter frowned down at the hardcopy scattered across his desk. That might put a new twist on things. “I still need to go.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“Are you ordering me not to attend this meeting, sir?” Their eyes locked.

“Hell, no.” Hastings’ face receded, as if he had leaned back in his chair. “It’s your sector. You’re the CO. You get to screw up on your own, but you’d better keep Watanabe in mind. He got soft on the Coalition, too.”

“So I hear.” Carter saluted crisply. “Thank you, sir.” And go to hell.

The screen blanked, and Carter leaned back in his chair, sweating in spite of the air-conditioning. Hastings had made it clear. Fuck up and it was Carter’s ass on the line, not his. He picked up the report of last night’s sabotage attempt, tossed it back onto the desk. It wasn’t that hard to punch a hole in the Pipe, and the local pumping stations were easy targets. These bastards could wear them out playing hide and seek. Things were tense between Corps and locals, but not impossible. Not yet. But it was only a matter of time before some tired, edgy trooper shot an innocent local by mistake. That could blow it, good.

His back was driving him nuts. Carter unzipped his coverall and reached for the analgesic cream the doc had given him. It didn’t work as well as Nita’s salve had, he thought sourly. She had never come to the base, but no David Ascher had ever worked for the Corps. Maybe she found him somewhere else, or maybe she just moved on. Carter tossed the tube back into his drawer and slammed it shut. He’d meant to ask around for her in town to return the clothes, but he hadn’t had the time. No, he hadn’t made the time. He hadn’t wanted to hear that she’d found her husband. It was almost time to leave for the Coalition meeting. Carter pushed her face out of his mind and put in a call for Delgado. It would be good to see Johnny tomorrow. Maybe he could put this mess into some kind of perspective.

*

The meeting was held in a house. It stood back from the two lane highway that wound up the side of the Gorge on its way toward Dufur and on southward, and had once been one of several suburban residences built close together on the steep hillside. A satellite dish gleamed on the roof. The houses on either side were dark, although Carter thought he caught the glimmer of a dim light in one upstairs room. Candle or lantern? It was half an hour past the power curfew. As they drove up, Carter made out the remains of a flagstone patio beside the house. Skeletons of yard furniture rusted beneath the eaves, their plastic webbing shredded to colorless fringe.

“I don’t like this place, sir.” Delgado set the brake hard.

“You’d rather we were meeting in a church?” Carter said easily. “If they’re going to shoot us, they could do it there just as easily.”

“Not funny, sir.” Delgado frowned. “I know this crowd, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” He rubbed his shoulder blades against the seat back. “I think we’re safe enough. If the Coalition is behind the sabotage, they’re being too careful about covering their tracks to blow it so openly. It’s on the record where we are and who we’re meeting.” Neither of them was armed. Delgado hadn’t liked that at all, and he’d thought about coming alone. But Delgado, with all his hostility, was a different perspective. He wanted that perspective.

“Wait a minute.” He put a hand on Delgado’s arm as he started to get out. “My job is to keep the water running, and I don’t want to spill any more Army blood to do it. The Coalition may not like us and vice versa, but if they’re not behind the sabotage, we need them. You will keep your opinions to yourself, tonight. Am I understood?”

“Yes. Sir.”

“But I want you to listen to every word and give those opinions to me afterward. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Delgado said grimly.

They climbed the sagging porch steps cautiously. Light seeped through the thick curtains at the windows. The house faced west, so the curtains were heavy enough to shut out the afternoon, sun, faced with sheets of silvery mylar. The warped boards of the porch creaked loudly under their feet and the door opened.

“Colonel Voltaire.” Dan Greely stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light. “I’m glad you came.” He held out his hand.

“This is Major Delgado,” Carter said as he returned Greely’s brief, firm grip.

“We’ve met.” Greely withdrew his hand smoothly when Delgado ignored it. “Everyone else is here.” He stepped aside. “Come in.”

A wooden table occupied one end of the long room, opposite an old sofa and two upholstered chairs. A cluttered desk stood against the wall with a battered laptop. Carter wondered if they had hacked the Corps cloud. The Dalles didn’t have a wireless server. Faded wallpaper boasted a ghostly memory of flowers, and the carpet was worn but clean. Three women and three men sat at the table, their faces stark and shadowed in the light of two solar lanterns that hung from an overhead chandelier. They were all in their forties at least. One woman looked older, her face lined and etched by wind and sun. Her wispy hair was gray and she alone smiled. The others seemed about as thrilled with this party as Delgado.

Carter tried to file names with faces as Dan introduced the four soaker-hose farmers and two town merchants who made up the decision-making core of the Coalition. The air in the room felt stuffy, charged with tension. Carter sat down, and after the briefest hesitation Delgado took a seat, too.

“Water?” Greely carried a plastic pitcher to the table and began to fill the empty glasses in front of each person. Everyone drank, or at least sipped a little, their expressions formal. A ritual? Carter drank some of the cool water and lifted his glass in a sort of salute. Delgado stared straight ahead, his own glass untouched.

“So how come you’re here?” One of the farmers sat forward, thick arms bulging under the tight sleeves of his tee shirt. “You Army people don’t give a crap about us.”

Nice start. “We do give a crap, or I wouldn’t be here.” Carter set his glass down. Harold Ransom; he dredged the name from Greely’s introductions. A beet and soy farmer. “We need to talk. This sabotage is hurting everyone and it’s not going to bring one more drop of water down the Pipeline, or make it one cent cheaper.”

Silence settled over the table as Ransom’s face reddened. “You really think we’re doing this? Cutting our own throats?” He half rose, muscles cording in his arms. “We’re the ones going thirsty. Not you. You bastards keep cutting our ration and I’ve seen
flowers
growing on that damn base. You think we’re that dumb, do you?”

“I don’t know if you’re dumb or not.” Carter shrugged. “If you’re not, then help us catch the people who
are
sabotaging the Pipe.”

“You ain’t really looking.” Ransom snorted. “You’ve already decided it’s us.”

“
I
haven’t decided anything. Yet.”

Ransom made a rude noise.

The gray-haired woman cleared her throat. “I’ve got three rose bushes in my garden, Harold. I’m willing to spend water money on them. I don’t see why Army people can’t grow flowers, too,” she said gently. “It doesn’t mean they’re stealing it.”

Ransom grunted.

“Colonel Voltaire’s willing to talk to us.” Greely leaned forward. “That’s a start. How long do you think our crops are going to last if someone wrecks the Pipe and all the water stops tomorrow?”

“That’s not what’s bothering me,” Ransom growled. “Down in the Valley, they arrested those folks who wouldn’t pay the new water tax, remember? Sent ’em to prison and took their land. We’re gettin’ set up for that, and you bet the Army’ll get their cut. You’re awfully damn hot to be buddies with the uniforms.” He glared at Greely. “You gonna get a cut, too? For keeping us quiet?”

“Knock it off, Harold.” The gray-haired woman’s voice wasn’t gentle this time. “Try thinking for a change.”

The hose farmer grunted again, but he looked away.

Sandy Corbett. Carter studied her and she noticed, gave him a brief sharp look, then turned to the others. “Dan’s stood out in front around here for longer than you’ve been growing weeds,” she said in a crisp, clear voice. “He’s paid a stiff price for doing it, too, which is more than I can say for you, Harold Ransom. We’ve all got an interest in stopping this sabotage stuff before it gets worse. Yes, we’ve been blamed for this. What do you expect? We’ve been giving Bonneville trouble for years, and doing it quite well, too.” She smiled and a dimple showed in her dry, weathered cheek. “This time, people have been killed.” Her expression sobered. “So what if they’re Army? It could be one of us next time. Whoever is doing this does not have our best interests at heart. Maybe we can work together with the Colonel here and maybe we can’t, but we won’t get anywhere if we pick a new fight every time he opens his mouth.”

“Okay.” Ransom shoved his fists into his pockets. “I’m done, Sandy. I’ll shut up.”

Carter cleared his throat, watching the eyes shift his way. “Water’s tight,” he said. “Mexico’s screaming about its water share falling off. The media doesn’t have the story yet, but there’s a possibility that Canada may pull out of the Alliance. If that happens, we’re going to face a major shortfall. All of us. That’s why agricultural rations have been cut lately — to keep the Alliance in one piece.” Bless you, Johnny, for keeping me in the loop, Carter thought. The men and women around the table were listening to him at last. Carter met the eyes that didn’t shift away from his — everyone but Ransom and a merchant whose name had slipped past him. I know you folks are tight,” he said slowly. “There’s nothing the Corps can do about that.”