Authors: Mary Rosenblum
Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General, #Collections & Anthologies
The stretcher team hurried past with Jeremy, IV bag swinging. “How is he?” Carter asked, got a head-shake in reply. Alive, still. He could hope. Carter saw no sign of Nita or Greely. They had vanished. He issued strict orders against retaliation against locals in any form, saying a silent prayer it would keep them safe.
He sent out details to search for any injured people who might still be in the riverbed. Soldiers and locals both, and don’t miss any locals, he told them. It was time to start healing this breach, but it was going to be a damned tough breach to heal. The bodies were coming in. Six locals, so far. Two Corps people, not including Delgado and Hastings. For the moment, he was letting them remain victims of the riot, so that made four. Slowly he sorted through the mess as the day waned into dusk.
The painkillers didn’t help much, and even cranked to the eyebrows with amphetamines he finally had to stop. Or he was going to end up on a stretcher, too. He leaned against the side of a truck, his coverall stiff with blood seeping from the surgery site. The doc was going to scream at him, he thought fuzzily. The sun was going down and shadows streaked the dry riverbed. He could see a stretch of the east bank from here. Once a park must have occupied that space. The dusty ground was divided into little rectangles by the remains of asphalt paths and parking strips. People had probably parked their RVs or pitched tents there in the old days. Now dust drifted over the curbs, and only stumps remained of the trees that must have shaded the campground.
Suddenly he wanted to see Jeremy’s version of that campground, wanted to see grass, leaves. Maybe the ghosts of kids playing, swimming in the river? Carter wondered if those kids had lived to see the river go dusty and dry as they sunk the Pipe. Only so much water existed and a lot of people needed it. If Jeremy died, he’d never know what that damn park had looked like.
Now he had to think about Johnny. Carter closed his eyes, remembering the day he’d come home from school. He’d called her name, even though she was often out of it, doing the pills she got from Doctor Warrington, after she’d finished with his big house. He knew why Warrington had paid Carter’s tuition to the pricey school. Everyone knew. And he heard her cry some nights, when she came back late. He wondered why she had cut her wrists instead of using some of the many many pills she had.
He had called 911. Because that’s what you did. And then . . . Warrington had walked in. He had looked at her and turned to leave. Just like that.
Carter didn’t remember much after that — just blurry images of Warrington on the floor, and paramedics, and cops. They cuffed him and hauled him off to jail. The images were like someone else’s old photos, found in a drawer. He had been just too old for juvenile court. And the charge had been murder. Johnny’s dad had paid for the lawyer and the expensive experts who had testified that Mr. Warrington had died of an aneurysm that would have happened anyway, and not because Carter had hit him. They pointed out to the jury the shame that Carter had lived with, and brought in teachers from the expensive school to testify to the bullying they hadn’t much bothered to stop at the time.
He ended up with an assault conviction and a suspended sentence.
Because of Johnny.
Carter wiped his face, feeling sweat and mud beneath his fingers. Time to finish up fast, before the drugs wore off. Time enough, later, for Nita’s proof. And Johnny. He turned away from the dusty park with its ghosts of playing children. The riot was over but it wasn’t an ending. Even if they got the water back on tonight, some people were going to lose their crops. When would the next flow cut come down? The struggle along this riverbed would never end. Not until the rains came back. Carter took another painkiller and had an NCO drive him back to the base.
He stopped in at Operations to make sure that the flow meters in The Dalles were being reset. By morning, they’d be back to the original settings. Maybe that would be soon enough, he thought. For at least some of the farmers. He leaned against the door of Operations, staring up at the dry glitter of the stars. He hoped Nita and Dan had made it back to the farm okay. This wasn’t the time to send soldiers through The Dalles to check. With an effort, he straightened, and headed for the infirmary.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
H
ospitals smelled alike, he thought. Military or civilian. Carter tried to decipher the odor as he waited for the doctor. Disinfectant, urine, and fear? He looked up as the doctor stormed into the sterile little waiting room. She wore blood spotted-surgical greens and her mouth pressed into a straight line as she faced him. “What the hell are you doing? You had surgery less than forty-eight hours ago. The only reason I didn’t keep you in here then was that you said you’d stay in bed. Do you know how very lucky you are not to have bled to death today? I’m admitting you right now.”
“Not yet.” Carter raised a hand. “Believe me, if I’ve lived this long, I can last another couple of hours. Then I’ll go to bed. I promise.”
“I’ll remind you of that when the stretcher detail brings in your body.” Her shoulders slumped and fatigue etched lines around her mouth. “You wanted to know about your civilian. He was the worst that came in, but he’s stable. In Recovery, so you can’t see him.” She sighed. “I did the best I could, Colonel, but the bullet passed close to his spine, and he sustained some damage that’s going to need stem cells to fix.” She stared past him at the pastel-green wall. “Any chance he has good health insurance?”
“What kind of damage are you talking about?”
“Too soon to tell.” The tired eyes got more tired. “Maybe paralysis from the hips down if there’s no intervention. Maybe only partial loss of use. Can you give me some ID and any kind of history on this guy?”
“His legal name is Jeremy Barlow and he was born in the Dry with the joint deformities he has now. That’s all I know.” Carter sat down hard on a chair.
“Colonel . . .” The doctor hesitated. “What do you know about this . . . ghost flood? Everybody’s talking about it.”
“He did it.” Carter raised his head, met her dark eyes. “The guy you just patched up. It was . . . an illusion. He saved a lot of lives with it, doctor. Pretty damn bitter reward, if you ask me.” His lips twisted. “Don’t be surprised by what you see as he comes out of anesthesia. Better warn the nurses.”
“Illusion . . .” She shook her head, doubtful. “You can put in a request for emergency medical assistance for him,” she said slowly. “I’ll do the paperwork tonight.”
“Do that.”
“I will, but don’t get your hopes up.” She looked away. “Usually it takes two to four weeks for approval, even if you mark it urgent. You have to apply stem cells within thirty-six hours of injury. Or it’s ineffective.”
“Do it anyway,” he grated. At least it was something to hope for.
The doctor insisted on checking his blood pressure and temperature and changing the bandage on the surgery site. She reamed him thoroughly about his condition, but decided he wasn’t dying. He didn’t really pay attention. He refused any more pills — he’d had more than enough and exhaustion had walled him in with a gray fog so that even the pain from his abused ribs didn’t come through very strongly. He told the doctor to call him if there was any change in Jeremy’s condition and left.
Outside, he stopped, leaned against the building and pulled out his cell. Johnny answered on the first ring, his voice bright and worried. “What is going on up there? The media’s full of all kinds of crazy rumors. Officers shot, a flood in the riverbed that wasn’t a flood. Jeeze, I’m glad to hear from you. Where the hell did you go after you took off like that?”
“You knew where I went.” Carter closed his eyes. “You know where I am right now. You put a chip into me, didn’t you?.”
“What . . . are you talking about? Carter?” Johnny’s voice was bright and concerned. “Are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’ll see you in my apartment. Leave right now, Johnny. They’ll let you through the main gate. Don’t make me wait.” He hung up.
His cell rang again immediately and he shut it off. Slowly he made his way across the base. The last dose of amphetamine was wearing off, leaving trembling exhaustion in its wake. Carter pushed his door open, fumbled for the switch and flicked on the light.
Dan Greely was sitting on his sofa.
“You do this a lot, don’t you?” Carter closed the door and leaned against it. “Why don’t you try the gate?”
“Not tonight.” Dan’s eyes narrowed. “You look like hell.”
“So the doctor told me. You don’t look so good yourself.” Carter made it to a chair and leaned his head back against the upholstery. “Where’s Nita?”
“At the truck plaza with Renny. Worrying about Jeremy,” Dan said. “Worrying about you. How is Jeremy?”
“In Recovery.” He decided not to mention the doctor’s prognosis. “I’ll call the government store when I know something. Tell me what happened.” Carter sat up with an effort, realizing that he had stopped doubting Dan. “I’m too beat to be judgmental, so I’ll listen.”
“The red headed agitator and someone else showed up at my jail cell in uniform,” Dan said slowly. “The idea was to make it look as if I’d shot Hastings. I think Delgado was supposed to shoot me afterward. They shot me full of something when they grabbed me and everything is kind of blurry. I think I was in a basement somewhere. We missed Jeremy’s show, I guess. I think we were driving down into the riverbed when it happened. I remember someone yelling and the car we were in slammed into something. Nita says he scared everyone right out of the riverbed.
“He sure did.” Carter rubbed his aching eyes. “He stopped a war.”
“I . . . don’t really understand what he does,” Dan said hesitantly. “But it’s really something.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how Delgado got Hastings down there, but next thing I knew I heard a shot. Someone shoved a gun into my hand. I guess it was Delgado. I still wasn’t too clear. And that’s about the time you showed up.” He shrugged. “You know the rest.”
“I forgot about that gun.” Carter’s eyes snapped open. “It had to have killed Hastings. And it has your prints on it.”
“Not a problem.” Dan looked at him sideways. “I made it disappear for good.”
“You don’t take chances, do you?”
“Sometimes I do.” Dan leaned back against the sofa, closed his eyes. “Think we can start over, Carter?”
“I think we have to.” Carter sighed. “I’ve got to trust you. I can’t do this by myself. I’m a uniform. I’m sorry . . . that I got taken in by that frame.”
Dan grimaced. “It was a damn tight frame.”
Yeah, it was. Carter leaned his face in his hands. “We’ll have water restored to the local lines by morning. I’ve got a crew working all night on it. I’m going to do some horse trading and I think we can make up the difference without cutting The Dalles much. I’ll have the final numbers by tomorrow night, I hope.” If he could stay out of the doctor’s clutches. “For the interim, I have the power to set the flow. But we may have to cut after all.”
“We’re both going to have our work cut out for us.” Dan gave him a crooked smile. “But you boosted my stock by arresting me. That shut up the people who claimed I was in bed with you.”
“We’ll do our best, I guess.” Carter noticed the fresh bruises on Dan’s face and the red weals on his wrists where he’d been cuffed or tied. “You need a ride back?”
“Not really safe for you folks right now. I’ll stay at the plaza tonight. Nita’s really worried about you.” Dan levered himself to his feet. “She cares a lot about you, Carter. Just so you know. I didn’t . . . know what she could do.” His eyes flickered.
“I didn’t either,” Carter said. It bothered Dan. You could see it in his face. It would be scary. To think that someone knew what was going on inside your head. How did
he
feel? He scowled and forced himself to his feet. He didn’t know. Not tonight.
He’d have to answer that question.
“I’ll get you an escort to the gate.” He pulled out his phone, surprised at how much it weighed. “Dan? How the hell do you get in here?”
Dan gave him a crooked s mile. “There’s a low spot on the riverbed side of the fence, out behind the kitchen compost bins. This kid was stationed here about two years ago. He was a Corps electrician, and he was Sandy’s nephew. He diddled the fence a little, just enough so that you can slide under without getting zapped or setting off the alarm. Sandy and I know about it. Nobody else.
“Thanks,” Carter said. “Use the gate after this, okay?”
Dan lifted a hand in a half salute as the escort knocked on the door. Carter felt a small flash of relief as he recognized Private Wasson. “Make sure this man gets out the gate safely,” he told her, then held up a hand. “Private, were you out at the Shunt today?”
“Yes, sir. We got sent in as backup, sir.” Her eyebrows rose. “What happened?” Awe colored her tone. “Do you know what it was? Some kind of hologram or something?”
“Something,” Carter told her. He glanced at his watch as Dan followed her toward the main gate. He’d give Johnny a half hour to show.
He knocked less than five minutes later.
“You must have been breaking speed records.” Carter stood aside as Johnny breezed into the room.
“You weren’t making any sense at all. Are you sure you shouldn’t be in the infirmary right now?” Johnny peered at Carter. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“Not quite yet.”
“What happened at the Shunt? Fill me in, will you? And where’s the stuff you found at Greely’s house?” Johnny sat down on the sofa Dan had just vacated. “What was it?”
“How did you know I found anything at Greely’s?” Carter leaned against the door.
“Uh . . . that guy. He said you had something in your hand when you left.” Johnny shrugged. “Why else go tearing off like a crazy man?”
“I didn’t have anything in my hands when I left.” Carter crossed his arms. “Tell me about Pacific BioSystems, Johnny.”
“What about ’em?” Johnny’s eyelids flickered. “We’ve got inside information that they’ve cut a deal with Hastings, we just don’t have any proof yet.” He sighed. “That’s what I was hoping we’d find at Greely’s. No luck, huh?”
“I want to know what you were trying to do.” The words came out leaden. “Why frame Hastings and Dan Greely? Why ruin the farmers along the riverbed? What does it gain you?”
“What are you talking about?” Anger flashed across Johnny’s face, turned into sudden comprehension. “That Latina chick of yours.” He snapped his fingers. “What’s her name? She’s been giving you an earful, hasn’t she? Carter, I know how you feel about her.” He shrugged, his face full of sympathy. “I think you’re going to have to face the fact that she’s Greely’s lover. I saw it for myself. She’ll say anything to clear that guy.”
“Heard from Delgado this evening?” Carter watched Johnny’s face go still.
“Who’s . . .”
“You planted the information that ties Greely and Hastings to PacificBio systems, Johnny. A better hacker than the one you hired found the real deal.” He sure as hell hoped Nita was right about that. “So proof exists, Johnny. You hear me? Proof.” He paced across the room, turned back to stare at Johnny. “Hastings is dead. So is Delgado, so he can’t testify against you. But you can’t slip out of this clean.” He drew a shallow, painful breath, remembering those cell bars, so long ago, the slippery feel of blood on his fingers. “I won’t cover for you,” he said unsteadily.
“I didn’t kill anybody.” Johnny looked away from him, his face twitching. “You got to look out for yourself, Carter. The world won’t look out for you. You’d do better to save your friends, let the rest go.”
“Delgado said something like that.”
“He was crazy. He wasn’t supposed to kill that girl.”
“Just Hastings and Greely?” Carter’s blood chilled. “What about Private Wasson, Johnny, the one who could identify the corporal who helped kidnap Greely?”
“Why couldn’t you just leave it
alone
?” Johnny lurched to his feet. “You wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I had it all set up. You were going to come out of this like a hero.”
Like a hero.
He stared at Johnny, realizing he had wanted him to deny it, wanted him to come up with a good reason why Nita was wrong, why it wasn’t him. He had been as ready to believe him as he had been ready to believe in Dan’s guilt. “Why, Johnny?” he asked numbly. “Why did you do this? You’ve got it all.”
“Yeah, I have it all,” Johnny whispered. “Do you know how fast I could lose it? After Amber and I split, I went a little crazy for awhile. You were so busy with your Army games and I . . . was on my own.” He stared down at Carter, haggard in the yellow light of the overhead fixture. “This little whore I’d been seeing tried to shake me down. Yes, she was underage, but it was no rape, that’s for sure. She solicited
me
. I didn’t mean to kill her. It . . . was an accident. And then . . . Morissy showed up two days later. With pictures. They could do a DNA match, of course. The cops. If she tipped them off. She’d set the girl on me, planning to lever me with the sex charge. And I handed her my ass on a platter.” His face had gone white.
“Morissy thought she owned me, Carter. No one owns me. No one. This was the way out. Do you know what would have happened once it came out that Pacific BioSystems had bribed a Corps general to give them extra water, that they had caused a local water war? The media would crucify them with joy, and we’d have an excuse to really bring them to heel. Someone needs to yank them into line, and if they leaned on me then, I could claim it was a frame. Revenge for exposing them. Carter? His lips trembled. The girl . . . it really was an accident.”
“Did you give Wasson’s name to Delgado?” Carter asked softly.
“Yes.” Johnny wouldn’t meet his eyes. “She could ID the guy he was working with in Bonneville.”
“What did you think Delgado was going to do? And meanwhile, The Dalles ends up another Chicago.”
“I told you, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Johnny made a chopping gesture with his hand. “I made sure of that. Hastings and Greely would have taken the heat and you would have been a hero for finding out about it. I’d never let you get stuck in the middle. Your ass has been covered the whole time. Everything would have worked out fine,” he said bitterly. “They should be growing bushes along the Columbia anyway.”
“I fried out in the Dry. Did you have your hired help dump me out there just to turn me against the locals? Ten people died down in the riverbed today. Ten! Delgado almost shot me. Did I mention that?”