The temperature was up, way up. Burt ripped off his mask and coughed. “Are you okay?” Crane called into the man’s ear.
Burt hacked and spit. “Hell, I told you I could never go around in a space helmet … didn’t I? But I can take it as long as you can!”
Sumi was giddy with it, laughing. “You’re high octane one hundred percent!” she screamed, water streaming out of her hair, eye makeup running down her face.
“I didn’t invent it … I just predicted it,” he called in return, feeling the heat on his clothes. Everyone’s face was bloodred.
There were exclamations farther down the line. People looked up. Crane followed suit. The sky was orange above him, the fire attempting to leapfrog completely over the break to pick its targets on the other side.
“The trees’ll go like candles!” Crane said, unbuckling and sloshing away from the southern view to watch the building’s north side, Sumi and Burt right behind him.
He looked north, half the city already rubble there, many small fires burning off into the smoke-shrouded horizon. Below, the evacuation park was jammed with people who’d somehow survived the temblor and the firestorm. Two trees were already blazing from airborne embers, and people lay huddled on the ground to escape the smoke. It was the same way everyone had died on Edo a hundred and twenty years earlier.
He looked back at the firebreak. Most of the water cannons jutted from the edifice of the building itself, but three large ones, the size of howitzers, were buttressed on the roof. He looked at Hill. “Think you can handle one of those things?” he asked.
“If it’s mechanical, I’m its daddy,” Hill responded, ripping off his mask to spit again.
“Take the southeast cannon,” Crane said. “Turn it around, onto the park. Go! Now!”
Sumi followed him dutifully to the southwest cannon, the one pointed straight up. It was massive and heavy enough to not buckle under the intense water pressure. Two large handles jutted from the back of the machine. Crane and Sumi each took a handle and jerked, slowly bringing the cannon down and around, arcing the water over the facade to spray the park.
The Japanese on the roof ran to the north wall and gazed over. Then they turned around and politely applauded.
A tired Crane and Sumi Chan leaned over the wall and stared down into the park at medtechs smoothly working triage and giving emergency care. Hill was off somewhere, trying to arrange transport out of the damage zone since they’d lost their helo.
“How long since we’ve seen each other?” Crane asked. It was fascinating to him, but he had no problem accepting Sumi as a woman.
“I don’t know … fifteen years, or so. I was still living as a man then.”
“With Paul.” Crane smiled. “We all assumed you were homosexual. You see Kate anymore?”
“She came out to visit a few months ago. Stayed a week. Same old Kate. She was in the process of divorcing her fourth husband and acquiring her fifth.”
“The one fixed point in an everchanging universe,” Crane said, wondering why Sumi really had come to see him.
“How is the worldwide water situation?” she asked. “I assume the Foundation is still involved in the radiation cleanup projects.”
“We provide daily updates after receiving word of what’s being done, then counterbalance with suggestions for the next day. Some of it is quite remarkable. There’s a fellow in Colorado, America, and one in Argentina who are diverting underground rivers, bringing them to the surface and controlling their flow to avoid hot areas. Things are still bad, obviously, and rationing is still necessary, but I think we may hit turnaround in a half dozen or so years.”
“How about the Mideast?”
“Still hot as lava,” he returned. She was good, professional. “Now tell me why the hell you’re really here.”
“Sure,” she said, smiling. She patted his hand. “I have two propositions for you.”
“Kate Masters’ visit wasn’t just a vacation, was it?” he said. “She was lobbying you, wasn’t she? Successfully, I guess.”
“Correct on all counts,” Sumi answered, the smile leaving her face. “Crane, right now America is on the verge of a race war. There’s fighting all along the border with New Cairo. The issue of Abu Talib has dwarfed everything—logic, life itself.”
“I don’t want to hear this,” Crane said. “And when Burt walks back over here, he’s not going to want to hear it, either.”
“Burt will hear exactly what you want him to hear,” she said.
“Was that supposed to be offensive?”
“No, truthful. He idolizes you. You know that. He’d listen to me if you’d tell him to.
Let me make my pitch before you throw me out. For old times’ sake, huh?”
“I find this entire discussion unsettling,” Crane said. “Make it fast.”
“Okay. The remnants of leadership in Washington have no idea of what they’ve got in their jail. Kate should have pardoned Talib years ago, but she didn’t because of her respect for your feelings. Now she regrets it. The people in charge think he’s some sort of monster who’ll lead New Cairo on an Islamic bloodbath across America. The Muslims think America is holding Talib as an affront to them, an attack on their religious leader.”
“Newcombe … religious?”
“His wife is the only one who talks to him. She keeps bringing all these messages, the NOI religious protocol, back from her visits. She’s very powerful and persuasive. People believe her.”
“And Kate wants to force it into the open?”
“She’s got a lot of pull still, even though she’s retired from politics.”
“Yeah, I see how she’s retired.”
“Just listen. She wants both you and Burt to testify. People who really knew Talib. Your voice would be the loudest in the country raised in favor of his release. We both know that Dan wouldn’t lead any revolts or anything.”
“I watched him shoot Burt. He fronted the raid that killed my family. I believe he’s capable of anything.”
“I’ve gone through all the disks, all the history of the event,” Sumi said. “From everything I’ve seen he went on that raid to try to stop you, but also to prevent bloodshed. His shooting Burt was pure self-defense. He’d have gotten his head bashed in if he hadn’t.”
“Don’t you understand,” he said slowly, sounding out each word, “that however many people died in this mess today, however much damage was done, it wouldn’t have happened if Newcombe hadn’t led those people into the Project? By this point in time, the planet would have been earthquake-free.”
“You’re only speculating,” she said. “You have no idea if the rest of the world would have gone along with your scheme.”
“I hate him,” Crane said.
“This is bigger than you and him. People’s lives—”
“I’m not in the lifesaving business anymore,” he interrupted.
“Then what were we doing with that water cannon?” she asked.
He looked at her, wishing he could share with her, somehow let her feel the pain that still ate him alive every time he saw a toddler, every time he saw a husband and wife holding hands. The tears came unbidden. “He ruined my life, S-Sumi,” he choked out. “I don’t want to s-stir it up. I don’t want to th-think about it. Can’t it just be left alone to work itself out without me?”