And what did it all have to do with Kai? If they were following him with empty tankers, he must be somewhere near water—maybe even the secret river. But that meant he was in the hands of the Minnesotans, which didn’t make much sense. Surely the Minnesotans didn’t need another driller; they got enough water from the Canadians and still had access to underground lakes. Crossing the border to kidnap two people was an international violation and an act of war. I couldn’t imagine why the Minnesotans would take that risk. Suddenly I was very scared.
I found Will’s hand and gripped it tightly. He squeezed back, and for a while that was all I needed.
By late afternoon the landscape had changed. Where there had been dust, dirt, and debris, there were now the faintest signs of civilization: a concrete bunker with smoke rising from a chimney; an electric car that wasn’t rusted or broken; roads that were nearly smooth; and the most telling sign of all—patches of green.
“They’re growing,” said Will, his voice hushed and awestruck.
Except for photos of Basin and the occasional hardy plant or backyard scrub, we rarely saw anything green that wasn’t painted on or in a hydro-vault. But here it looked as if people had water to spare. Green things sprouted up in no particular pattern, almost as if no one cared where they grew.
“It’s grass,” Ulysses explained. “They feed it to the cattle.”
“They have cattle?” Will asked in a whisper.
“How do you think they get meat?”
“But…” Will’s voice trailed off. Such riches were unimaginable. Flowing water, grass, and cattle—it was as if someone said that gold paved the streets and diamonds were in the hills.
Then in the distance, I saw our destination. It loomed in front of us like a gigantic wall that stretched the length of an entire city. It was perfectly flat, yet seemingly endless, with nothing rising behind it, as if no one dared peer over the top. I had never seen such a thing, but I knew from the wireless that it was a giant dam holding back billions of liters of fresh water—water that might normally have flowed south to the border and maybe even to our home. Minnesota was the land of ten thousand dams, and its government often boasted that it had more dams per person than any other country in the world. I knew that the largest dam in the world was in the Arctic Straits, owned by Canada but claimed by the Arctic Archipelago. Someday, if the war ever ended, whoever controlled it would control ten percent of the world’s fresh water.
Gray cliffs rose at either end of the dam—the same color as the concrete that had been used to build it. As Ulysses drove closer, I could see a small army of trucks and equipment parked around the dam’s base, painted in the familiar blue-green of the Minnesota flag.
What were the pirates doing? Were they planning to steal water from the reservoir? Such a brazen act would get us all killed. The dam was heavily fortified, with gun batteries spaced regularly along its walls and the Minnesota Water Guard standing watch all across its length. There would be no escape, and stealing water was a capital crime.
I must have been fidgeting on the seat, because Ulysses turned to me and said, “Don’t fret, little sister. We’re just here for talking. Even pirates know their limits.”
“Is this where they’ve taken the boy?” I asked. “The one you’re following?”
Will pinched my thigh, but I ignored him. I gave Ulysses my most innocent look, as if my interest were purely theoretical.
“Taken? What makes you think they’ve taken him?”
I tried to keep my voice steady. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“We don’t know he’s been taken. But we know they’ve been here.”
“Were they drilling in Minnesota?” I asked.
To drill for another republic was treason, which might explain why Kai and his father disappeared so quickly and why the RGs were looking for them. It still didn’t explain the pirates’ interest, but if Kai’s father had discovered a secret river, the pirates would want the water for themselves. If pirates wanted what the Minnesotans had, there would be a fight. And here we were, traveling with Ulysses right into the heart of it.
“Not drilling,” said Ulysses. “Planning.” I didn’t say anything, but Ulysses kept talking. “There’s a hydrologist works out of the research center—Dr. Tinker. Older guy, looks like Albert Einstein. He gives them information, and they do the same.”
“But he’s a Minnesotan,” I said.
“It’s people who draw these boundaries,” said Ulysses. “The earth and sky don’t have borders.”
“Maybe. But the Minnesotans think they do.”
“As I said, we’re just talking. Convincing comes later.”
Ulysses might have said more, but the flash came first, followed by the sound. It was as if lightning struck three times in quick succession, except the sky was clear, and thunderstorms were a thing of fiction and holo-casts. Then the concussive booms followed, each one more violent than the last.