Blue Gold (NUMA Files 2)

“This fruitless discussion is an example of the squabbling over water that has gone on for decades. In the old days ranchers shot each other over water rights. Today your weapons are lawsuits. Privatization will end this squabbling. We must end the fighting among ourselves.”

The sound of clapping echoed in the hall. “Brava,” said Kinkaid. “I applaud your eloquent performance, but you’re wasting your time. I intend to ask Congress to reopen the whole issue.”

“That might be a mistake.”

Kinkaid was too agitated to detect the veiled threat. “I don’t think so. I have it on good authority that the companies that have taken over the Colorado River system spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to influence this awful legislation.”

“Your information is inaccurate. We spent millions.”

“Millions. You—?”

“Not personally. My corporation, which is the umbrella organization for those companies you mentioned.”

“I’m stunned. The Colorado River is under your control?”

“Actually, under the control of an entity set up for that express purpose.”

“Outrageous! I can’t believe you’re telling me this.”

“Nothing that has been done is illegal.”

“That’s what they said in Los Angeles when the city water department stole the Owens Valley river.”

“You make my point for me. This is nothing new. L.A. became the biggest, richest, and most powerful desert city in the world by sending forth an army of water surveyors, lawyers, and land speculators to take control of water from its neighbors.”

Professor Dearborn spoke up. “Pardon me, but I’m afraid I agree with the congressman. The Los Angeles case was a classic case of water imperialism. If what you’re saying is true, you’re laying the groundwork for a water monopoly.”

“Let me pose a scenario, Dr. Dearborn. The drought persists. The Colorado River is unable to meet demand. The cities are dying of thirst. You wouldn’t have lawyers debating water allocation, you’d have gunfights at the water hole as in the old days. Think about it. Thirst-crazed mobs in the street, attacking all authority. The complete breakdown of order. The Watts riots would be a schoolyard fight by comparison.”

Dearborn nodded like a man in a trance. “You’re right,” he said, clearly troubled. “But, if you’ll pardon me . . . it just doesn’t seem right.”

She cut him short. “This is a fight for survival, professor. We live or we die according to our will.”

Defeated, Dearborn leaned back, arms folded, and shook his head.

Kinkaid took up the cudgels. “Don’t let her confuse the issue with her phony scenarios, Professor Dearborn.”

“Apparently I have not been able to change your mind.”

Kinkaid stood and said, “No, but I’ll tell you what you did do. You’ve given me some good ammunition for when I bring this matter up again before committee. I wouldn’t be surprised if antitrust action is merited. I’ll bet my colleagues who voted for the Colorado River bill would change their minds if they knew that the whole system was going to be under the thumb of one corporation.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Brynhild said.

“You’re going to be a damned lot more sorry when I get through with you. I want to leave your private amusement park immediately.”

She gazed at him with sadness. She admired strength even when it was used against her.

“Very well.” She spoke into a radio she had clipped to her belt. “It will take a few minutes to get your luggage and ready the helicopter.”

The door to the hall opened, and the man who had escorted Kinkaid earlier guided him from the chamber.

When they were gone, Brynhild said, “While some may consider this drought a disaster, it presents a golden opportunity. The Colorado River is only part of our plan. We are continuing to acquire control over water systems around the country. You are all in a position to influence the success of our goals in operations in your communities. There will be great reward for everyone in this room, beyond your imagination in fact. At the same time you will be doing something for the common good as well.” Her eyes swept both sides of the table. “Anyone who wants to leave now can do so. I only request that you give your word to keep your silence about this meeting.”

The guests exchanged glances and some uneasily shifted their weight, but nobody accepted her offer of an exit visa. Not even Dearborn.

Waiters materialized magically, placed pitchers of water on the tables and a glass in front of each man.

Brynhild looked around the assemblage. “It was William Mulholland who was most responsible for bringing water to Los Angeles. He pointed to Owens Valley and said, ‘There it is. Take it.’ ”