Driesen Smith rose to one knee, while Kai remained unconscious. Ulysses reached the father and slung the boy over one shoulder. Driesen could barely move, so Ulysses lifted him with one arm and half-dragged, half-carried him across the runway. The guards shouted for him to stop, but they couldn’t manage to squeeze off any shots. Several tried to run after him, staggering and weaving, buckling and then rising again. But Ulysses kept going, relentless and indestructible. At the door of the jet, Driesen Smith hesitated. His long blond lashes fluttered rapidly, and his jaw hung open. He seemed to be weighing the risks of jumping into a plane with a crazed pirate against staying on the ground with corporate assassins. Probable death versus certain death.
“Move it!” Ulysses yelled and tossed him in the jet like a sack of dry-crete. Then he tossed Kai on top of him.
“Careful!” I said.
“No time for careful. Fly,” Ulysses commanded.
Sula didn’t hesitate. She threw the engines into gear and blasted toward the edge of the runway. Bullets sang out harmlessly in the vapor trail behind us. In a moment we were airborne, with only the ocean and the sky between us and home.
CHAPTER 20
We flew fast and silently. With our faces pressed to the window, we could barely feel the vibration from the powerful engines. Thin wisps of clouds spidered below us, delicate and fragile. The glass was cold to our cheeks. Inside the temperature dropped rapidly, but at least we had oxygen and blankets. Sula explained we were traveling at nearly twice the speed of sound, beyond the barrier where words could catch us.
“We’re safe—for now,” she added.
Kai leaned against me, conscious but unable to speak. His head rested on my shoulder. I glanced at his father, whose left arm hung useless at his side. Sula told us it could be several hours before the effects of the destabilizer completely wore off.
“Sula rescued us from the fortress,” I told Kai. “And Ulysses saved us from the mines.”
“You escaped from the fortress on your own,” said Sula.
“And it was you who saved me from Bluewater,” said Ulysses.
“But we never could have rescued them without your help,” I said.
I told Kai the entire story then: about finding Martin the bodyguard dead and Kai’s insulin abandoned in the bath, about following the clues to the old well, about traveling with the pirates to the dam, being captured by PELA, escaping, and then falling into the hands of Bluewater.
“But now we’re safe,” I said. “And soon we’ll be home.”
Kai squeezed my hand.
“They’ll come after you,” said Driesen—his first words since boarding the jet.
“Ha! I’d like to see Torq show his face in Basin,” said Ulysses.
“Bluewater owns Basin,” said Driesen.
“A company can’t own a city,” I said.
Driesen grimaced. “You’re just a child. You don’t know anything about the world. Bluewater owns the water; it owns the land; it owns the cities and republics.”
“It doesn’t own Canada,” I protested.
“It owns the people who own Canada.”
“And what about the war?”
“This war is nothing. An inconvenience.”
I assumed Driesen was joking. I had seen the jets screaming across the sky and the tanks lumbering north. I had witnessed the boys who returned from the front lines with limbs missing, minds gone. The war was not an inconvenience. It was a shroud that covered the sun. It darkened our lives like the dust that settled on our hands and lips, making everything we tasted and touched dry, bitter, and fruitless.
“There’s a bigger war about to happen,” Driesen continued. “A world war. These other wars are skirmishes, police actions. Fights over borders and boundaries. But soon there will only be two sides: people with water, and those without. The next battle—the final battle—will be about who controls the spigot.”
“And Bluewater?” I asked.
“It plays both sides. But it needs a sponsor to protect its operations. So it aligns itself with the water-powerful and keeps knowledge of new supplies from the waterless.”
No one spoke. What Driesen said made sense. The republics’ water started in Canada, and the Canadians’ water started in the Arctic, and the Arctic’s water started as rain from the clouds. But the Canadians had dammed the rivers, the Europeans had drained the polar cap, and the Chinese had sucked the storm clouds from the sky. To survive it was not enough to hoard water; it had to be stolen from one’s enemies. Small wars turned into larger wars, and the large wars would become one war. If the Canadians weren’t fighting the Australians yet, it was just a matter of time.
“We have to stop them,” I said.
“You can’t defeat them,” said Driesen. “They have too much money and too many resources.”
“But we have Kai!” I said.
“And they won’t stop until they have him back.”
“How can you say that about your son?”
Driesen grimaced again. “Don’t you think I’ve tried to protect him? I’ve done everything I could. Hired bodyguards. Disguised our identities. Made secret deals with other republics. But Bluewater is different. What it doesn’t own, it buys.”
“Kai said there was a river.”
Driesen’s laugh was like a half-formed cough. “There is no river.”
I looked at him but saw nothing funny. Kai raised his head from my shoulder, as if he wanted to say something but he didn’t have the strength.
“Kai said he would take me there.”
“That was just a story.”
“A story?” I managed.
“We told it to keep people away.”
“From what?”
The jet banked hard, and my stomach rose into my chest. Kai clenched my arm, and at first I thought he was frightened; then I realized he was holding me because he thought I was.
“Idiots are shooting at us,” said Sula.
Hundred of tracer bullets lit the sky around the jet. I peered out the window. We were thousands of meters above a ruined city that was no doubt controlled by vigilantes or mercenaries. A downed jet would be a real prize, its captured crew a treasure in ransom. Sula banked hard again, then climbed swiftly. The tracers disappeared, and my stomach settled. Kai let go of my arm; his fingers left fine red marks on my skin.
Driesen was watching as Kai settled back against my shoulder. Then his expression softened, and he looked merely quizzical. “We were drilling for water in a virgin aquifer,” he said.
“The aquifers have all been tapped,” said Ulysses gruffly.
“No,” said Driesen. “Not all of them. There’s confined aquifers sit below a surface aquifer. Men drain the water they see but don’t realize there’s more water below. It takes real skill to find the water. It takes a gift—like Rikkai’s.”
“And where is this geological marvel?” Ulysses demanded. He sounded as if he thought Driesen’s tale was just driller hocus-pocus. Drillers were notorious for their tall tales and dreams of wealth. Yet most died without a credit chip to their names.
“It can only be reached with special drilling equipment that Tinker and I developed. But there’s water, billions of liters, never been touched. More than enough for all of Illinowa.”
Could it be? It was as if Driesen had said there were diamonds, free for the taking, polished and cut, gleaming in a pile like tomorrow’s promise. Everyone in that plane was silent, imagining the riches.
Kai’s lips were chapped and cracked, and his voice was harsh and raspy. He lifted his head and looked at me. “Water,” he said. “To start again.”