“I’d rather kill a man than kidnap him anyway,” Nasri continued. “Simpler, and you don’t have to deal with grieving relatives. Just dump the body and move along.”
I didn’t answer, and Nasri seemed disappointed by my silence. But my stomach was knotted, and I couldn’t talk even if I had wanted to. After several attempts Nasri stopped trying. “It’s a shame to lose you,” he said. “You’re such a cute girl.”
I flinched, but he had already turned for the door. When it closed we were in darkness again.
“Vera?” asked Will.
“Bluewater has Kai.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Anyone who knew the location of the river was a threat to Bluewater and its water monopoly. That was why it had paid PELA to kidnap Dr. Tinker. The desalinating companies were like countries unto themselves—fighting for territory and power. Just as nations profited from surpluses, they profited from shortages and scarcity. But they wouldn’t have killed Dr. Tinker if they had thought he was still useful.
I could feel the hover-carrier lifting off the ancient riverbed. Time seemed to have slowed; each second was like the space between drops of water. In between the drops I could feel my friend’s absence.
“They’re going to kill him, Will.”
“No, they won’t. Why would they? Think about it logically, Vera. If Bluewater went through the trouble to kidnap him from his home, why kill him?”
I wanted to believe Will was right, but I knew he wasn’t. If Dr. Tinker was dead, it meant Bluewater no longer needed him. If they no longer needed him, it meant they knew the location of the river, or had Kai, or both. Soon they would not need Kai either.
I sank to the floor of the carrier. My hands were still tied behind my back, so I curled into an awkward ball, my feet facing one direction, my head and knees in the other. Will sidled up beside me and nudged my shoulder onto his thigh. His ripped trousers still smelled faintly of chemo-wash, the brand our father kept buying even after our mother could no longer do the laundry.
We stayed that way for a long time. The carrier swooped and dipped, crossing the wrecked and forsaken land. Below us were hectares of parched earth, fissured and broken without a trace of green. A dazzling sun illuminated metallic yellows, grays, and blues: mercury, lead, cadmium. The air was dusty and glittered gold with thousands of particles swirling in the wind. I dozed, or thought I did, my mind jumbled and disjointed like confetti.
When the carriers finally stopped, it was late afternoon. The rear doors were flung open, and the cargo hold was bathed in a sudden chill. A lone horn sounded in the distance. It made me shiver. “Where are we?” I asked Will.
“Welcome to Niagara!” said Nasri from the rear steps. “Enjoy the honeymoon!” His laugh was brittle and thin.
I rose slowly and helped Will off the floor. We stood unsteadily, blinking in the harsh light. Nasri scampered into the cargo hold, followed by two of his men who were dressed as if for combat: boots, kev-jackets, pistols tucked in waistbands. He signaled to them, and one of them grabbed Will, while the other took firm hold of my arm.
“Normally we’d get more for you,” Nasri said, squeezing Will’s cheek between his forefinger and thumb. “But your sister here is feisty, and there is that nasty wound on your leg.”
“You can’t sell us!” I said.
“See what I mean?” said Nasri. “Feisty!”
“How much are they paying you?” I asked. “Our father will pay you more.”
“I thought your parents were dead. Besides, we’ve come too far to ransom you back to your family.”
Outside, the horn sounded again, and the men tightened their grips.
“Do not ask for whom the bell tolls…” said Nasri, and then there was that cackle again.
“What’s going to happen to us?”
“You will become quite excellent shimmiers, capable of disappearing into the narrowest hole. Then you will be sold off to mercenaries to fight in the war.”
Will’s face was pale and covered in a sheen of perspiration. He gripped my elbow unsteadily. But he stood on his two feet and spoke in a clear, strong voice.
“You won’t get away with this,” he said.
“But I will,” said Nasri.
“Then you should hope we die here. Because if we don’t, one day I’ll be old enough, and I will hunt you down and kill you.”
Nasri smiled, but his brown eye twitched. “Tough words for such a skinny boy. I suppose I should kill you now.”
“Do it,” said Will. “It’s your last chance.” He stared back at Nasri fiercely.
I couldn’t believe Will was talking to Nasri this way, daring him to kill us. Nasri was just crazy enough to do it—we had already seen him shoot Dr. Tinker. But he didn’t even remove his pistol from his waistband.