The Water Knife (8 page)

When she’d first hired him, Angel had thought she’d wanted a shooter. But she had him learning how to do everything from read a legal contract to plant heavy explosives. Plenty of people washed out. Angel thrived.

And in return the Queen of the Colorado knighted him. She gave him residence permits in Cypress 1. Bequeathed upon him driver’s licenses and bank accounts, badges and uniforms. Camel Corps first, but later others, and not all of them hers to give. Colorado State Patrol. Arizona Criminal Investigations Division. Utah National Guard. Bureau of Reclamation. Phoenix PD. Bureau of Land Management. FBI. Identities and vehicles and uniforms and badges came and went, depending on where the Queen needed a knife. Angel took on roles as easily as a chameleon, changing colors to fit each new task, shedding identities as easily as a snake sheds skin.

Whoever he’d been in that prison cell, it was many skins ago.

The Tesla’s door opened, letting in a blaze of heat. Ortiz held the door for his boss, deferential. Case settled into the passenger seat, folding her slim legs inside. Nodded to Ortiz. The door thudded closed, blocking out light and heat. A/C chill cocooned them.

“Paranoid much?” Angel asked in the sudden silence.

Case shrugged. “Threats are up again,” she said. “We’re in the final stage of the Eastern Pipeline.”

“Thought that was stalled.”

“Reyes finally smoked out the ranchers who were shooting at our digging crews. We’ve got drones patrolling all two hundred fifty miles now, so if anyone even comes close to that pipeline, we can drop Hades and Hellfire on them. Basin and Range country is about to get real damn dry.”

It was only when Case smiled that Angel could make out signs of aging. Whatever Hollywood treatments she was getting, they worked. Just the barest crow’s-feet at the edges of her eyes, but nothing else. Nothing was ever out of place with her. Her clothing was always perfect. Her makeup, her data, her planning—all perfectly analyzed and arranged. Case liked details, all details. She found patterns, fit them together, and then turned them to her use.

“So now they’re coming after you,” Angel said.

“Threat Assessment is tracking a half-dozen cells. Ortiz tells me
a couple seem credible.” She jerked her head toward graffiti on the condominiums surrounding the car. “It sort of makes you miss the old days, when all they did was write editorials and Photoshop my face onto some porno.”

“Still,” Angel said, “lot of security for some pissed-off ranchers.”

“Ortiz keeps reminding me it only takes one bullet. And since they can’t shoot down a drone, they think that makes it easier to try for me.”

“Bad news for them.”

Case laughed. “If they weren’t trying to blow my brains out, I’d actually feel sorry for them. All those…fevered people, full of their”—she paused, picking through words—“
faith
. Their faith.” She nodded, settling on the word she liked. “And they think that because they have faith, they can wish the world to be anything they want it to be. They’re quite innocent when you think about it. All those boys and girls, playing pretend in the desert with their rifles, playing freedom fighters. Such innocent little children.”

“Little children with guns.”

“In my experience, children with guns typically shoot themselves.” She changed the subject. “Tell me about Carver City.”

“Milk run.” Angel shrugged. “Yu tried to put himself back inside. Wanted to suicide. But I got him out.”

“You’re getting soft.”

“You’re the one who complains about wrongful death suits.”

“We should reach out to Yu. I always liked his dedication. See if he wants to work this side of the river.”

“When I dumped him out of the chopper, I told him he should keep his eye out for an offer.”

“You should never have let him go. He’s all over the news right now, talking about Las Vegas water knives.”

“Seriously? Little pissant town like that’s getting coverage?”

“Journos love the black helicopters angle.”

“You want me to lean on people? Make the story go away?”

“No.” Case shook her head. “Journos have the attention span of gnats. By tomorrow they’ll be chasing a supertornado in Chicago, or some Miami seawall break. We’ll lie still, and everyone will forget this
ever happened. Even if Carver City wins a class action in a couple years, it won’t exist as a town anymore. That’s all that matters. Carver City’s sucking sand, and we’ve got their water.”

“So how come you don’t look happy?” Angel asked. “Carver City’s done. We move on. Cut something else, right?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not quite that simple.” Her brow knitted. “Carver City had investors that Braxton’s due diligence didn’t turn up. An eco-development project was leasing Carver City’s water rights. Earthship sustainable arcology. Vertical farm, integrated housing, eighty-five percent water recycling—sort of a low-rent version of a Cypress development. It turns out that a lot of people were invested.”

“
People
, huh?”

“Connected people,” Case said. “A senator from back east. A couple of state reps.”

The way she said it made Angel glance over, surprised. “State reps?” he asked. “You mean
Nevada
state reps? Our guys?”

“Montoya, Kleig, Tuan, LaSalle…”

Angel couldn’t stifle his laughter. “What the hell were they thinking?”

“Apparently they thought they knew where we stood on Carver City.”

“I’ll be goddamned.” Angel shook his head. “No wonder Yu looked so surprised. Motherfucker thought he’d bought himself some solid-gold insurance. He had our people in his pocket. When I was down there, he kept saying I was going to piss off powerful people.”

“Everyone’s hedging these days,” Case said. “Right after Carver City’s water plant went down, I got a call from the governor.”

“He was in there, too?”

“God, no. But he was fishing for information, trying to know if we were planning any other hits.”

“Where’s he invested?”

“Who the hell knows? He’s too clever to say anything over a line where he might be recorded.”

“He’s still backing you, though, right?”

“Well, he doesn’t get votes if Vegas goes dry. As long as I keep delivering his water, the Southern Nevada Water Authority has carte blanche. We can tax, we can build—”

“We can cut.”

“—and we can plan for Nevada’s economic future,” she finished over Angel. “But still, every time I turn around, I run into some…
asshole
…hedging his bets. You know there are actually bookies who will take bets on what town’s going to lose its rights next?”

“What are the odds?”

She gave him a sardonic glance. “I try not to look. I’ve got enough conflict-of-interest lawsuits on my hands with the Cypress developments.”

“Yeah, but I could make some real money.”

“The last time I checked, you weren’t exactly underpaid.” She squinted out at the dead suburb. “I used to think I could at least trust our own people. Now I’m either looking over my shoulder for some redneck with a rifle, or I’m dealing with a mailroom clerk who’s leaking our ag water bidding strategy in return for a residence permit in Los Angeles. You can’t trust anyone anymore.”

“Braxton’s the one who missed all these state reps, right?”

“So?”

“Just saying he don’t normally miss things.” Angel shrugged. “Didn’t used to, anyway.”

Case glanced over sharply. “And?”

“Just saying he didn’t used to screw up.”

“Christ. And you think I’m paranoid.”

“Like you say, it only takes one bullet.”

“Braxton didn’t screw us.” She gave Angel a warning look. “And I don’t need my top water knife feuding with my head of legal.”

“No problem.” Angel grinned and held up his hands. “Long as Braxton stays off my back, I stay off his.”

She made a noise of annoyance. “This job used to be easy.”

“Before my time.”

“Not that long before. It used to be that if you negotiated a water-swap project with San Diego and JV’d on a desal plant, you looked like a genius. Now?” She shook her head. “Ellis is saying that California’s running guardies all the way up the river into Wyoming and Colorado. He’s seen their choppers on the upper Green River and the Yampa.”

Angel glanced over, surprised. “I didn’t know Ellis was working that far upriver.”

“We’re trying to figure out who’s got senior rights up there. In case we need to start making new buyout offers.” She made a face. “And California’s already there, grabbing Upper Basin rights ahead of us. We thought renegotiating water transfers on the Compact was going to work in our favor. Now it scares the hell out of me. We’re playing catch-up. Next thing we know, California could just own Colorado or Wyoming outright. They’ll put the lower Colorado in a straw and claim the evap savings, and they’ll buy the upper Colorado.”

“Rules are changing,” Angel said.

“Or maybe there never were any rules. Maybe all we have are habits. Things we do without even knowing why.” She laughed. “You know my daughter still says the Pledge of Allegiance? I’ve got three different militias assigned to hunting down Zoners and Texans who cross our border, and Jessie is still putting her hand on her breast and saying the Pledge. Figure that one out. Every single state has its own border patrol, and my kid still calls herself an American.”

Angel shrugged. “I never really got patriotism.”

“No,” Case laughed, “you wouldn’t. Some of us used to believe in it, though. Now we just wave the American flag so the feds won’t come down on us for recruiting militias.”

“Countries…” Angel trailed off, thinking back on his own early life in Mexico, before the Cartel States. “They come and go.”

“And mostly we don’t see it when it’s coming,” Case said. “There’s a theory that if we don’t have the right words in our vocabularies, we can’t even see the things that are right in front of our faces. If we can’t describe our reality accurately, we can’t see it. Not the other way around. So someone says a word like
Mexico
or
the United States
, and maybe that word keeps us from even seeing what’s right in front of us. Our own words make us blind.”

“Except you always see what’s coming,” Angel said.

“Well, I feel like I’m flying blind.” She ticked points off on her fingers. “Snowpack up in the Rockies—that might as well be zero. No one planned for that.” Tick. “Dust storms and forest fires are playing hell with our solar grid. No one planned for that.” Tick. “All that
dust is speeding snowmelt, so even when we get a good year, it melts too fast or else evaporates. No one planned for that.” Tick. “Hydropower.” She laughed. “That’s shot except in the spring because you can’t get a decent head in the reservoirs.” Tick. “And then there’s California putting all these calls on the river.”

She was regarding her open palm as if she could divine the future from it. “I’ve got Ellis over on the Gunnison now, making offers, and I’m afraid we’re too late there, too. It’s like we can’t catch a break. Someone is always ahead of us. Someone who sees more clearly than we do. Someone who has better words to describe where we’re headed.”

“You sure you don’t want me to look into Braxton?”

“Let it go with Braxton. I’ve got other people on him already.”

Angel laughed. “I knew it! You don’t like him either.”

“It’s not about liking—it’s about trusting. And you’re right, he didn’t used to screw up.” She paused. “I’ve got something else I want you to look into, though. Down in Phoenix.”

“You want me to cut the CAP? I can do it for good this time.”

“No.” She shook her head violently. “We can’t get away with anything like that again. Not without real legal cover. The feds have drones watching now, and the last thing we need is the army piling in on Arizona’s side. No. I want you to go down to Phoenix and sniff around for me. Something seems to have gone wrong, and I can’t get a good read on it.”

“A read on…”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be sending you down. I feel like I’m not getting the full story. There’s some low buzzing coming out of California, too. They’re pissed about something.”

“Who’s buzzing?”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Let’s keep this compartmentalized, shall we? Just sniff around. I want another set of eyes down there. An independent set of eyes.”

“Who’s running Phoenix?”

“Gúzman.”

“Julio?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s good.”

“Well, now he’s pissing himself and begging to be extracted. Keeps saying he’s lost people. He sounds like Chicken Little with the sky falling.”

“He used to be good.”

“I probably left him down there too long. Phoenix was supposed to hurry up and die, so I left him in. Instead, they keep holding on by their fingernails. You know they’re even building an arcology now? Some of it is already up and running.”

“Little late for that.”

“Chinese solar energy money and narco dollars. Apparently you can do anything with that combination.”

“Water does flow toward money.”

“Well, between the Cartel States and Chinese energy developers—”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“It’s almost like Phoenix could be a player again. A few weeks ago Julio was telling me he had a line on something big, and then suddenly things go wrong for him, and he starts panicking and begging to come across the river. I want you to dig into whatever got Julio so excited, before he started jumping at his own shadow. There aren’t many people I trust right now, and this…” She trailed off. “It just feels wrong. I want you to report directly to me. Don’t go through SNWA channels.”

“Don’t want the governor looking over our shoulder?”

Case looked disgusted. “You know, there was a time when we could actually trust our own people.”

They made small talk for a few more minutes, but Angel could tell Case was already on to her next problem. He’d been assigned, fitted into her mosaic of the world, and now her restless mind had moved on to other data and other problems. A minute later she wished him luck and climbed out of the Tesla.

Her entourage of armored SUVs ground out over broken glass, leaving Angel alone, staring out at the broken landscape that Case had created with the stroke of a pen.