J. Curtis - Calexit - The Anthology

Vengeance is mine sayeth the engineer , Dominic thought, snarling. That’s what you get for murdering my family . “The gauges have not been reading properly for at least six months, ma’am, so I don’t know what the flow is.”

“It was seventy thousand c-f/s on the Gila,” Frio said. “Crest is probably going to be over a hundred thousand, unless the Colorado gets there first and backs the Gila up.”

Dominic tipped his head to the side and ran some numbers. “If the Imperial Diversion stays open, that will take some of the pressure off downstream, for a while, unless the river decides to take advantage of the lack of maintenance.”

“Wow! I’m glad that’s not Hoover,” Lupe exclaimed, skidding into the room. “Is it? No, Hoover doesn’t have that superstructure. Parker?”

“Parker,” Nguyn confirmed. They heard a chime and saw the incoming message alert. Everyone moved and sat as the screen split and the President and Greg Lemmons, head of the Bureau of Reclamation, appeared. Dominic watched another chunk of rock tumble into the foam. If the water was traveling at twenty miles an hour, then what just passed over Parker should reach the Imperial Diversion within eight hours. Yuma, Arizona had another two hours after that, maybe.

“What’s going on, Mr. Lemmons?” the President demanded.

“Ms. Nguyn?” Dominic heard the sound of a buck passing rapidly from DC to Denver and thence to Flagstaff. Judging by the expressions around the table, he wasn’t the only one.

“Parker Dam on the lower Colorado River has been overtopped and it appears that the water is chewing out rock from the sides of the dam. Downstream towns on the Arizona side have already been evacuated because of the anticipated flood releases, sir, but this could destroy all the downstream water diversions and dams. Suggest planning to evacuate Yuma, Arizona if possible.”

Both the President’s and the Bureau Director’s eyes bulged. “Yuma? How many people is that?”

“A hundred-thousand people or so, sir,” Nguyn said, reading from a pad Frio held up just off camera. “The river might divert completely into California as it did in the early Twentieth Century, but more likely it will split. The Gila in Arizona is already flooding.”

“I know, I just signed the disaster declarations,” the President snapped. “What’s worst case?”

“Worst case, sir, is Parker dam is ripped out. That would drain Lake Havasu and cut off Cali’s water pipeline as well as their power from the dam. The flooding will also damage the Imperial Dam downstream and the All-American Canal, so there goes the irrigation in the Imperial Valley and more water for LA and San Diego.”

“Lemmons, what’s our responsibilities if that happens?”

The Director took a deep breath, blinked a few times, then exhaled with a bit of a whistle. “The Bureau is responsible for the maintenance of the dams, sir. But Cali has not allowed us to maintain them, and fired upon our technicians the last time they attempted to inspect Parker. We cannot get to Imperial or the All-American because they are inside Cali. The contracts for the dams and the Colorado River Compact as a whole is only for states within the United States, and it was not renegotiated with Cali.” He paused his recitation to breathe.

“And, so what?” the President churned the air with one hand. “Cut to the chase.”

“There’s not a damn thing, pardon my pun, we can do until the river level drops. That will be as long as a month, depending on the weather. Then we see what Arizona needs, and if the CAP waters are still accessible.”

“The CAP?”

“Central Arizona Project, sir, Arizona’s canals and pipelines from the Colorado River.”

The president blinked, then leaned over to the side as someone whispered and handed him a piece of paper. He read it and snorted. “As if I don’t have enough trouble. It seems that President Moonbeam is accusing us of sabotaging the irrigation works in the Imperial Valley and deliberately releasing water to flood his new ‘farms’.” He shook his head. “The Brownshirts prison camps, I should say.

“So there’s nothing we can do until the water goes down, and we had nothing to do with the water coming up?”

Bureau Director Lemmons nodded, as did Ms. Nguyn. She said, “That is correct Mr. President, Mr. Lemmons. The very high snowpack and rainfall of the past three years caused the flooding. We had to release water from upstream, and Cali did not, or was not able, to release enough water from Parker to prevent the dam from overtopping and erosion happening.”

Frio’s phone chirped and he got up and ducked out of the room. He came back in a few seconds, scribbled on the note pad and held it up. Nguyn read it and nodded. “Mr. President, Mr. Lemmons, Governor De La Cruz has just issued orders for the full evacuation of Yuma and other towns along the Colorado River and the lower Gila. The National Guard will be moving out to assist the local authorities.”

“How long do they have?”

Dominic held up both hands, fingers spread, and mouthed “Ten.”

“Ten hours is the estimate, Mr. President. We do not have good water speed data yet, sir.”

The president took of his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Of course this would happen right now.” He put his glasses back on. “Thanks. Keep me advised if it gets any worse, or once you know the status of the dams.”

“Will do, sir,” Mr. Lemmons promised. The president’s face disappeared and the Bureau Director’s expanded to fill half the screen. “OK, how bad is worst-case bad?”

Ms. Nguyn read off the notepads Frio and Dominic had slid across the table to her. “We lose all controls on the Colorado downstream of Hoover Dam. Lake Havasu is gone, the Imperial Canal and water diversion for Cali are all gone. The water diversions for the Central Arizona Project are badly damaged and will need a lot of repair. A quarter of Cali’s remaining electrical power is gone. The river either returns immediately to its delta in Mexico, or fills a lot of the Salton Sea and Imperial Valley before turning south again. And several hundred thousand people in Arizona and Cali drown. We don’t know how many on the Mexican side might be lost, sir.”

She lowered the notepads. “Apparently, per the phone calls we have gotten, the Calis are unable to close the diversions at Imperial Dam and the All-American is already over-full from the high releases. And the water tunnel that supplies LA has been damaged and flows are being interrupted.”

“And they are blaming us,” Lemmons stated.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are all our people accounted for?”

Lupe nodded vigorously and gave the thumbs-up. “Yes, sir, they are.” She glanced over at Frio and he nodded as well. “So are the CAP folks.”

“Thank God for small miracles.” Lemmons ran a hand over his beard. “Right. We watch, see, and get ready for complaints about the lack of fishing at Lake Havasu and the bathtub ring in the canyon.”

“And the stench from the mud,” Ranger Rick murmured, very quietly. Dominic’s nose recoiled at the prospect. All that anaerobic activity, the sulphur alone would drive away anything with a sense of smell.

“Yes, sir,” Nguyn replied. Dominic frowned. The flow at Parker seemed to be increasing, if that was possible, at least judging by the amount of spray. Part of the column-and-lintel-like superstructure tipped. Everyone sat up, eyes glued on the dam side of the screen. It tipped a little more.

“Oh shit,” Dominic heard and realized that it was him.

Mr. Lemmons stared as well, shaking his head. “God save the people downstream,” he whispered.

Muted “Amens” came from the observers in Flagstaff.