Blue Gold

Chapter 34

The men watching Francesca were either twins or some mad cloning experiment gone bad. The most terrifying thing was not their repulsiveness. It was their absolute silence. They sat a few yards away, one on either side, leaning on the backs of chairs that had been turned around. They were identical in every way, from their troll-like ugliness to their preference for black leather.

She tried not to look at the dark, red-rimmed eyes under beetling brows, the metallic dental work, and the bloodless pallor of the psychopathic faces. They were looking at her hungrily, but there was nothing sexual in their leers. This was not the ignorant savagery she was used to with the Chulo. This was pure animal lust, hunger for blood and bone. She glanced around the strange circular white room with the plain walls and uncomfortably cool temperature. At its center was a computer console. She was thinking how absurdly big the furniture was and wondered whether the outsized chairs, like the low temperature, were a psychological ploy to make people brought there feel small and inadequate. She could be anywhere in the world.

Francesca had no idea how she had come to this sterile chamber. She was vaguely aware of being moved from one place to the other. At one point she thought she heard jet engines, but she was injected with drugs again and slipped off into black unconsciousness. She had seen no sign of Gamay, and that worried her, too. She had felt a pinprick in her arm and awakened quickly as if she had been injected with a stimulant. As her eyes fluttered open she saw the twins. No one had spoken for several minutes. She was grateful when the door hissed open and the woman entered and waved the grotesque twins away.

Francesca wondered if she had blundered into a freak show or the set of a Fellini movie. She knew the reason for the out sized furniture. The woman dressed in the dark green uniform was a giantess. Settling into a big sofa, she smiled pleasantly but without warmth. 'Are you well, Dr. Cabral?"

"What did you do with Gamay?"

"Your NUMA friend? She is comfortably quartered in her room."

"I want to see her."

The woman lazily reached over and tapped her computer screen, and Gamay appeared on the monitor, lying on her side on a cot. Francesca held her breath. Then Gamay stirred, tried to rise, only to fall back onto the cot.

"She has not been given the drug antidote as you were. She will sleep it off and awaken in a few hours."

"I want to see her in person to make sure she is all right."

"Later perhaps." The answer was uncompromising. The woman touched the screen, and it went dark.

Francesca looked around. "Where exactly is this place?"

"That's not important."

"Why have you brought us here?"

The woman ignored her question. "Did Melo and Radko frighten you?"

"Do you mean the human mushrooms who just left?"

She smiled at the comparison. 'A clever metaphor, but you would do better to compare them to poisonous toadstools. De spite your bravado, I can see the fear in your eyes. Good. They should frighten you. During the ethnic cleansing campaign in Bosnia the Kradzik brothers personally killed hundreds of people and planned the deaths of thousands. They destroyed entire villages and engineered numerous massacres. If not for me they would be sitting in the prisoners' dock at the World Court in the Hague, charged with crimes against humanity. There is no war crime they did not commit. They have absolutely no conscience, no morals, no sense of remorse for anything they do. Maiming and killing are second nature to them." She paused to let her words sink in. "Am I making my point?"

"Yes. That you have no scruples yourself about hiring murderers."

"Exactly. Their murderous character is precisely why I hired them. It is no different from a carpenter buying a hammer to drive nails into a board. The Kradzik twins are my hammer."

"People aren't nails."

"Some are. Some aren't, Dr. Cabral."

Francesca wanted to change the subject. "How do you know my name?"

"I have known and admired your work for years, Dr. Cabral. In my opinion, your fame as one of the world's leading hydro engineers easily eclipses your more recent notoriety as a white goddess."

"You know who I am, but who are you?"

"My name is Brynhild Sigurd. Although your name is better known than mine, we are both accomplished in our chosen field, the movement of the earth's most precious substance, its water."

"You're a hydro-engineer?"

"I studied at the finest technological institutions in Europe. After I finished my studies I moved to California, where I started my consulting company, now one of the biggest in the world."

Francesca shook her head. She thought she knew everyone in the water engineering fraternity. "I've never heard of you."

"I prefer it that way. I've always operated behind the scenes. I'm nearly seven feet tall. My stature makes me a freak, subject to derision from those very much inferior to me."

Despite her predicament, Francesca felt a slight pang of empathy. "I had my share of harassment from idiots who don't like the idea of a woman excelling in their field. I never let it bother me."

"Perhaps you should have. In the long run my resentment at having to hide from the public has been an asset. I directed my anger, retooling it into an unstoppable ambition. I acquired other companies, all with an eye toward the future. There was only one fly in the ointment." The cold smile again. "You, Dr. Cabral."

"I've never considered myself an insect, Ms. Sigurd."

"My apologies for the label, but the analogy is precise. Some years ago it became clear to me that in time the demand for the world's water would exceed the supply, and I wanted to be the one with her hand on the tap. Then I heard about your revolutionary desalting process. If you were successful it would torpedo my carefully laid plans. I couldn't allow that to happen. I considered making you an offer, but I had studied your personality and knew I could never get through your impractical altruism. I re solved to prevent you from giving the process to the world."

Francesca felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Her voice came out in a hiss. "You were the one behind my attempted kidnap ping.'

"I had hoped to persuade you to work for me. I would have set you up in a laboratory to perfect your process. Unfortunately my plans went awry, and you disappeared into the Amazon. Everyone thought you were dead. Then I read with admiration about your adventures among the savages, how you became their queen. I knew that we were both survivors in a hostile world."

Francesca had gotten her initial fury under control, and her reply was in measured tones. "What would you have done with the process if I had given it to you?"

"I would have kept it secret while I consolidated my grip on the world's water."

"I was going to give my findings to the world free of charge," Francesca said disdainfully. "My goal was to relieve suffering, not profit by it."

"Laudable but self-defeating. With you apparently dead, I set

up a plant in Mexico to duplicate your work. It was destroyed in an explosion."

Francesca almost laughed. She knew the reason for the blast and was tempted to throw it in this woman's face. Instead she said, "I'm not surprised. Working with high pressure and extreme heat can be tricky."

"No matter. The main lab here was working on another aspect of the process. Then came the happy announcement of your escape from the Amazon. Again you disappeared, but I knew of your ties to NUMA. We've been watching the Trouts since they returned."

"Too bad you're wasting your time once again."

"I don't think so. It's not too late to put your talents to work

"You have a strange way of recruiting employees. Your first kidnapping attempt was the reason I spent ten years in the wilderness. Now you drug and kidnap me again. Why would I want to do anything for you?"

"I can offer you unparalleled support for your research."

"A dozen foundations would be glad to fund my work. Even if I were inclined to work for you, which I'm not, there is a major obstacle. The desalting process involves a complex molecular metamorphosis that works only in the presence of a rare substance."

"I know about anasazium. My supply of the material was destroyed in the blast at the Mexican facility."

"Too bad," Francesca said. "The process can't work without it. So if you'll be so kind as to allow me to leave . . ."

"You'll be pleased to know that I have all the anasazium you'll need to develop your process. When I heard of your re turn I acquired a substantial amount of the refined material. Just in time, I might add. NUMA had dispatched part of its Special Assignments Team on a similar mission. Now I can carry out my full plan to control the world's fresh water. You alone would appreciate the simple brilliance of my scheme, Dr. Cabral."

Francesca feigned a reluctant agreement, as if she were secretly pleased at the compliment. "Well, of course, as a water scientist I would be curious about such an ambitious endeavor."

"The world is entering one of the most serious droughts in its history. This dry spell could last a hundred years if the past is any indication. The first impacts have been felt in Africa, China, and the Middle East. Europe is beginning to experience a thirst that cannot be quenched. I simply plan to accelerate the process of drying out the world."

"Excuse my skepticism, but that's absurd."

"Is it?" Brynhild replied with a smile. "The United States is not immune. The great desert cities of the Southwest, Los Angeles, Phoenix, Las Vegas, draw their water from the Colorado River, which is now under my control. They rely on a tenuous network of dams, reservoirs, and river diversion. The water sup ply hangs by a thread. Any disruption in the water supply would be disastrous."

"You're not going to blow up a dam?" Francesca said with alarm.

"Nothing so crude. With their regular water supply at the breaking point, the cities have been depending more and more on private sources. Gogstad's straw corporations have been buying up water systems everywhere. We can create a water shortage wherever and whenever we want to simply by turning the handle of the tap. Then we will sell only to the places that can afford it, the big cities and the high-tech centers."

"What of those who can't afford it?"

"There's an old saying in the West: 'Water flows uphill to money.' The wealthy have always been assured of a cheap water source at the expense of others. Under my plan water will no longer be cheap. We will be doing this on a worldwide scale, in Europe and Asia, South America and Africa. It will be capitalism at its purest. The market will determine price."

"But water isn't a commodity like pork bellies."

"You've been in the jungle too long. Globalization is nothing more than the promotion of monopolies in communication, agriculture, food, or power. Why not water? Under the new international treaties, no one country owns its water resources anymore. They go to the highest bidder, and Gogstad will be the highest bidder."

"You will deny water to thousands who will be forced out of the market. There will be famine and chaos in countries that can't afford to buy water."

"Chaos will be our friend. It will prepare the way for Gogstad's political takeover of weakened governments. Think of it as water Darwinism. The strong will survive."

The icy blue eyes seemed to bore into Francesca's skull. "Don't think this is retribution for all the slights I have received because of my stature. I am a businesswoman who realizes the proper political climate is necessary to do business. This has required no small investment on my part. I have spent millions building up a fleet of water tankers that would transport water from places that have it, towing it behind them in huge ocean going bags. I have been waiting years for this moment. I have not dared to move because I feared your process. It could destroy my monopoly within weeks. Now that I have you and the anasazium, I can strike. Within days the entire western half of the country will run out of water."

"That's impossible!"

"Is it? We will see. Once the Colorado River is finished as a supplier, the rest of the pieces will fall rapidly into place. My company controls most of the fresh water supplies in other parts of the world. We will simply turn the faucet off, so to speak. Gradually at first, then more forcefully. If there are any com plaints, we will say that we are producing as much water as possible."

"You know the results," Francesca said levelly. "You're talking about turning much of the world into desert. The consequences would be terrible."

"Terrible for some, but not those who control the world's water. We could get any price we ask."

"From desperate people. You would soon be exposed as the monster you are."

"To the contrary. Gogstad will say that we are ready to move water from Alaska, British Columbia, and the Great Lakes to other parts of the world in the tanker fleet I have been building. When Gogstad's beautiful tankers appear off the coast we will be hailed as heroes."

"You're already apparently rich beyond the dreams of many. Why do you need more wealth?"

"This could benefit the world in the long run. I will prevent wars from being fought over water."

"Apax Gogstad, imposed by force."

"Force will not be necessary. I will reward those who bend to my will, punish those who don't."

"By letting them wither and die."

"If that's necessary, yes. You must wonder where your desalination process fits in."

"I assume you would never allow it to spoil your mad plot."

"To the contrary, your process is an important part of my scheme. I don't intend to keep my tankers at sea forever. They are only a stopgap measure while the world builds the fantastic infrastructure that will run water down from the polar ice cap. Vast agricultural areas that have gone to desert will have to be invigorated with huge-scale irrigation."

"No country could afford that. Whole nations will go bankrupt."

'~11 the better to snatch them up at a fire sale. Eventually I will build desalting plants using the Cabral process, but I alone will control their output."

"Again to the highest bidder."

"Of course. Now let me present my new offer. I will place you in a lab with everything you need at your command."

"If I say no?"

"Then I will turn your NUMA friend over to the Kradzik brothers. She will not die quickly or pleasantly."

"She's an innocent. She has no part in this."

"Nonetheless she is a nail that must be hammered down if necessary."

Francesca was silent for a moment. Then she said, "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You can't trust me, Dr. Cabral. You should know that you can never trust anyone. But you are intelligent enough to see that you are far more valuable to me than your friend's life and that I am willing to trade. As long as you cooperate, she lives. Do you agree?"

This woman and the deeds hatched in the dark recesses of her brilliant mind revolted Francesca. Brynhild was obviously a megalomaniac and, like so many of her ruthless predecessors, was impervious to the sufferings of the innocent. Francesca had not survived ten years among savage headhunters, blood-sucking bats, and stinging insects and plants without inner resources. She could be as Machiavellian as the most devious. Living in the jungle had given her the quiet ferocity of a stalking jaguar. Since her escape she had been consumed with the desire for revenge. She knew it was wrong and misplaced, but it sustained and helped maintain her grip on her sanity. She pushed her thirst for vengeance aside for the moment. This woman must be stopped.

Suppressing a smile, she bowed her head in submission and with a feigned catch in her voice said, "You win. I will help in developing the process."

'Agreed. I'll show you the facility you'll be working in. You'll be quite impressed."

"I want to talk to Gamay to make sure she is all right."

Brynhild punched a button on the intercom. Two men in dark green uniforms appeared. Francesca was relieved to see that they were not the Kradziks.

"Take Dr. Cabral to see our other guest," Brynhild ordered. "Then bring her back to me." She turned to Francesca. "You have ten minutes. I want you to get to work immediately."

Flanked by the guards, Francesca was led through a labyrinth of passageways to an elevator that dropped several levels. They stopped in front of an unmarked door opened by punching out the code on a keypad. The guards stood outside while Francesca entered the small windowless room. Gamay was sitting on the edge of her cot. She looked groggy, like a fighter who has taken one too many punches. She brightened and smiled when she saw Francesca. She tried to rise, but her legs buckled and she had to sit again.

Francesca sat on the cot and put her arm around her friend's shoulders. 'Are you all right?"

Gamay brushed her straggly hair aside. "My legs are wobbly, but I'll be fine. What about you?"

"They gave me a stimulant. I've been awake for some time. Your drugs will wear off soon."

"Did anyone mention what happened to Paul? He was up stairs when the kidnappers broke in."

Francesca shook her head. Putting aside her worst fears, Gamay said, "Do you have any idea where we are?"

"No. Our host didn't tell us."

"You mean you've spoken to someone I can thank for these glorious accommodations?"

"Her name is Brynhild Sigurd. Those were her men who kid napped us."

Gamay started to reply, but Francesca pursed her lips and shifted her eyes from left to right. Gamay caught the hint. They were being bugged and probably watched.

"I only have a few minutes. I just wanted you to know I've agreed to work with Ms. Sigurd on my desalting process. We'll have to stay here until the project is complete. I don't know how long it will take."

"You're going to work with the person who kidnapped us?"

"Yes," Francesca replied with a stubborn tilt of her chin. "I wasted ten years of my life in the jungle. There's a great deal of money to be made, but beyond that I believe Gogstad has the best chance of bringing my process to the world in an orderly and controlled fashion."

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure," she said.

The door slid open, and one of the guards motioned for Francesca to leave. She nodded, then leaned over and gave

Gamay a hug. Then she stood quickly and went off with the guards. Alone once more, Gamay pondered what had just happened. As their eyes met briefly, Francesca had winked. There was no mistake about it. Gamay was pleased to think there was more to Francesca's startling announcement that she was working for the enemy, but there were more immediate concerns. She lay back on her cot and closed her eyes. Her first priority was to give her body and brain a rest. Then she would try to figure out how to escape.