Gamay said, “I think Francesca would be pleased to see some of those who have been fighting over water working together to bring it to places hit by the drought. There's a whole new spirit of cooperation. Maybe there is hope for the species yet.”

“I'm optimistic,” Austin said. “The UN has promised to speed up its usual bureaucratic pace. They did a good job setting up a refining plant for that new anasazium site in Canada. Francesca's plans are amazingly simple. From what we've seen of how fast and cheap this plant went up, any country is going to be able to bring in low-cost fresh water.”

“Ironic, isn't it?” Gamay said. “Anasazium came out of Los Alamos where they were working on weapons of mass destruction.”

“It came close to being just that in the hands of Gogstad,” Austin said.

Gamay shivered although the temperature was in the nineties. “Sometimes that giant woman, her two dreadful henchmen, and her horrible lair seem like a dream.”

“Unfortunately they were very real, and that wasn't the Emerald City of Oz we barely escaped from.”

“I just hope some malignant cell didn't lodge somewhere where it can grow like a cancer.”

“Not much chance of that,” Austin said. “Gogstad no longer has its leader, its scientific expertise, and the powerful men who were the engine powering this thing. People around the world have realized what they almost lost and are reclaiming their sovereignty over their water rights.”

Jim Contos had been listening to the exchange with interest. “Thanks for inviting me along. At least I know that my two submersibles were deep-sixed for a worthy cause.”

“Glad you brought that up. Joe?”

Zavala smiled, extracted a sheet of paper from his shirt pocket, and unfolded it. “This is only a preliminary sketch,” he said, “but it will give you an idea of what we've got in the works.”

Contos's eyes widened in astonishment. “Hell, it's beautiful.”

Zavala grimaced. “I wouldn't go that far. It looks like a deformed guppy, but it will go deeper and faster and carry more instrumentation and mechanical functions than any submersible in the sea. It's going to require extensive testing.”

“When do we start?” Contos replied.

“The preliminary work has already begun. I've got a date with the Smithsonian. They're planning a memorial to the last pilots of the flying wing, and they've asked me to do a few fly-bys to publicize the campaign. But after that I'll be free to help plan the tests.”

“What are we waiting for?” Gamay said.

“That's a good question,” Austin said. “Francesca's process is going to turn this sand pit into a garden, but it's no place for a bunch of ocean scientists.” He started walking toward a turquoise blue helicopter with “NUMA” printed in black on its side.

“Hey, Kurt, where are you headed?” Zavala said.

Austin turned. “C'mon,” he said with a wide grin on his bronzed features. “Let's go someplace where we can get our feet wet.”