Dead Water Zone - Kenneth Oppel [31]
“I know. Monica explained it to me.”
“It has nothing to do with us,” Armitage went on angrily. “It was Mom’s mistake. She drank it; we inherited it. Simple as that. I wouldn’t drink that crap for anything.”
“My brother’s drinking it,” Paul said.
A small groan escaped Armitage’s throat, a combination of surprise and weariness. “Why?”
“He wants to make himself perfect.”
“Then he might already be dead by now,” said Decks quietly. “It works differently on different people.”
“No,” said Monica, staring into the distance. “It took with him. He said so on the diskette.”
“We know where he is, too,” said Paul. “Rat Castle.”
Decks’s brow furrowed. “You’re certain?”
“The place on the other side of the canal,” said Paul, frightened by the intensity of the man’s gaze. “He said he was going there because the water was stronger.”
“It’s the truth, Decks,” said Monica. “And if he’s in there”—her voice gained momentum—“it means there could be other people in there—”
“No,” said Decks abruptly, cutting her off, “there’s no one there.”
“How can you know that?”
“It’s just not possible,” he replied, his voice tired. “Not anymore, not after what the Sturms did to themselves.”
Monica looked at Paul. “They were the first convict family to stay behind after the prison hulks were closed down.”
“You can’t blame them really,” Decks began slowly. “From what I’ve heard, most of the convicts didn’t deserve to be imprisoned. They hated the City for what it had done to them. It was a rage, like a phosphorus burn. Do you know about phosphorus? It ignites when it’s exposed to the air. If it gets on your flesh, there’s no way of stopping it burning. Water’s no good. It just goes on forever.”
Paul wondered if it was this same kind of rage that drove his brother—the fury of being crippled, ashamed, wanting revenge on everyone, the world.
“They wanted power,” Decks went on. “And they got it, in a way. They made themselves the new rulers of Watertown. They controlled all the inner piers, the canals, trade routes across the harbor. To rival the City—that was their dream. They wanted to spread their power right into the heart of the City. But the City made it illegal for anyone to trade with Watertown. That crushed them.”
“They went at it the wrong way,” said Armitage in a tight voice. “Playing by the rules won’t get you anywhere, not against the City. They make the rules to protect themselves. So you’ve got to break them if you want to get strong. Be patient, secret. That’s the way they should have worked.”
“Maybe so,” said Decks, “but the Sturm family was crushed. In only a few years all their power had ebbed away. The family turned in on itself, living isolated in Rat Castle.
“But when the water turned, the last of the Sturms thought it might be another chance for them. They discovered what the water could do to people and what’s more, that the water around Rat Castle was the strongest of all. That’s why the walls went up. The Sturms wanted that dead water for themselves only. And they started playing with it.”
Decks paused to spit into the water, as if his words left a foul taste in his mouth. His broad fingers scratched thoughtfully at the stubble on his chin.
“Nobody knew where the dead water came from or what it was. The Sturms didn’t have a clue what they were doing. Some drank too much; others made concoctions that killed them before they’d finished swallowing. Most of those who survived were half crazy from it. They were nothing like the other Waterdrinkers, who drank only from the outer piers. You might not even think they were human.
“The Sturms were killed off by it, except for two brothers. David, the oldest, was hell-bent on refining it so that it wouldn’t kill you but would make you stronger, faster. He wanted to make himself into an invincible being, a god.”
Paul’s scalp tingled. Exactly what Sam was after. He had to hear the rest. But Decks hesitated, as if