Ryan joined him, peering down through the startlingly clear liquid. He recognized the schools of trout, whitefish and grayling as they cut through the water beneath the sailboat.
“There’s no shortage of game here,” Donovan said. “Besides the fishing, there’s also moose, goat, elk, deer, bighorn sheep and antelope. You want bird? You got your choice between pheasant, duck and grouse. One thing about this cistern—it attracts wildlife. A man doesn’t go hungry unless he’s too lazy to go hunt it down or fish for it.”
“How many people do you have here?”
“Probably about sixty. We lost seven men when the pirates boarded Calypso.”
RYAN SAT ON an empty wooden barrel on the cistern ledge. The barrel had once held nails but now only showed the signs of long use as a seat. He gazed out at the piers. Besides Calypso, there was one other sailcraft only a little larger than Junie. Then there were nearly a dozen outboard boats.
“We use the small boats for exploration and supply craft,” Donovan explained. “Carry gasoline for them on Calypso and Ariel.”
Ryan glanced at the top of the mountains ringing the canyon. The sun was dipping below the western horizon. Outside the cistern, some of the light was still visible, but in the bowl all light was gone and total darkness had descended. Lighted torches ringed the area, creating bubbles of illumination for the group.
The dam workers had distanced themselves from Morse and the companions, but Elmore circulated freely within them, telling all he knew.
Jak and Dean were down at the water’s edge with their poles in hand. Despite the tension of the situation, they’d been drawn to the fishing with the other dam workers. Their efforts hadn’t gone unrewarded.
“What a wonderful ambrosia!” Doc exclaimed, approaching their group.
“You talking about the fish stew, Doc?” Donovan asked. Each one of the campfires was festooned by a large stainless-steel pot hanging over the flames.
“Yes, indeed.”
Donovan snorted. “Not so wonderful after you’ve been eating it for months.”
“Well, sir, I have not been given that opportunity. Nor, of late, for the pan-fried bread I see in ample supply.”
Grinning, Donovan said, “Feel free to help yourself. There’s plenty here, and the crew doesn’t mind sharing.”
Doc touched his hat. “Ryan, if I’m not needed here, I think I will sample what there is to be had, in order to fill that growing hollow pit leaching at my backbone. I shall, of course, be ever ready to stand at your side.”
“Enjoy,” Ryan said.
“I’m going to get Millie a plate myself,” J.B. said. “Mebbe sit with Krysty awhile to spell her.”
Ryan nodded, waiting until J.B. stepped away. He’d been with the Armorer for years, and J.B. knew how to make himself scarce, giving Ryan time to talk to Donovan on his own.
“Time for us to get down to the nut cutting,” the one-eyed man stated. “What’s it going to take for you to help us with Krysty?”
“That’s simple.” Donovan spread his hands. “I want you to help me get that chunk of Shostakovich’s Anvil back from the pirates.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ryan carried a lantern, following Donovan up the rope scaffolding that led to the top of the canyon near the dam. The Heimdall Foundation man carried a lantern, as well, playing his light over the rough-hewn rock.
“Thought mebbe you’d like to take a look at the dam itself,” Donovan said. “Give you more of a perspective of what you’ll be fighting for.”
In truth, the view was awe inspiring. The moon hung orange and full in the sable heavens, reflected in the dark pool of the basin below. Stars glittered around the moon, light glass bits embedded in the night.
“I’ve got enough to fight for,” Ryan answered. “I’d walk through mutie slime pits for that woman back there.”
“Knew you would. I saw it in your eye when you were telling me the story.”
“Something else you should know,” Ryan said. “If you lie to me and don’t get help for her the way you said you would, I’ll chill you. And that’s an ace on the line.”
Donovan stopped, meeting Ryan’s level gaze without reserve. “I believe you. If that section of the space station wasn’t out there in the hands of Barbarossa and the pirates, if I hadn’t been told how important it was, I’d probably still help your woman. Mebbe for nothing at all. But I need your help, and I mean to see you give it. Gonna cost me plenty in getting you that help, though you might not believe that right now. I’ve seen your kind of man plenty of times before, Ryan.”