Footfall

“Michael can blow Bogie Two out of the sky,” the General said. “It’s all alone. We won’t see another digit ship for an hour.”

“We have a plan,” Admiral Carrell said.

“And if we stick with it, we lose! Mr. President, you’re betting everything on this.”

“General, I’m aware that it’s important.”

“We have to fight the damn digit ships anyway! Go now.”

“And kill everyone in Bellingham,” President Coffey said.

“Better Bellingham than the whole damn human race!”

“Oh, Jesus.” President Coffey stared at the situation screens. “Admiral Carrell, you’re my naval expert. Take command.”

“Yes, sir. Colonel Crichton, get me direct communications with General Gillespie.”

“Sir.” The first three lines she tried were filled with static. “General Gillespie, sir.”

“Ed, this is Thor Carrell.”

“Yes, Mr. Secretary?”

“There’s been a possible security leak. Your local sheriff used his radio.”

“Is that why there’s jamming? We can’t talk to our own MPs.”

“That’s it. General, you’re to make ready for instant launch. Watch the skies. The first glimmer up there, and you go. It’s your ship, as of now.”

“Acknowledged.”

President Coffey looked significantly at the Admiral.

“Mr. President,” Carrell said.

“I won’t take your time,” Coffey said. “Godspeed, General.”

The sirens were still wailing on the floor below.

General Toland was still frowning. “All right, God damn it, we’ll do it your way.” He turned to Je

“General.”

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“Have your MPs do what they can for the people in Bellingham. They’re Americans too.”

“Yes, sir.”

John Fox heard it first.

There was high wind with a few raindrops in it. Fox was turning the compost heap. He’d managed to make this his own territory; nobody else would fool with it. His pitchfork probed, and he worked around the denser mass he sensed, to keep Roger hidden. Bones showed suddenly, not clean yet — a foot. Fox grimaced an picked up a pitchforkful of compost.

He stopped, cocked his head. There was a sound in the wind. Motors.

Fox placed his forkful to cover the bones deep. Then he moved briskly toward the house. He opened the door and shouted at the first human figure he saw. “Navy coming back. Alert everyone. I’ll be at the gate.”

The Navy had come twice before, first for the CBs, then for Roger Brooks. Both times they had come in force — but not like this. You could hardly hear the wind for the roar of motors, and they were only just pulling up! Armored trucks lined the road. It must be a nuisance for them, John Fox thought. All that gasoline. But they know we’ve got guns, and somebody might do something stupid if there was just a truckful of them. He counted eight trucks, and more vehicles behind them. New cars, old cars, decrepit civilian trucks, a score of them thi

Four men climbed out of the third vehicle and came up to the gate. They looked nervous. One was the sheriff, old Ben Lafferty. Three were Navy, and Fox had seen one of them on their second visit: Commander Arnold Ke

Two more came up. Miranda Shakes, and that deputy sheriff she dated.

“It’s all right, John,” Miranda said.

“What is it this time? Who the hell are they?” Fox waved back down the road.

“Your neighbors,” Sheriff Lafferty said.

“Civilians seeking refuge,” Commander Ke

Fox nodded. Orion, he thought. Now. “How many are there?”

“About three hundred.”

“You’re crazy. Even elbow to elbow—”

“And on top of each other too. This is serious. You tell the rest of ’em in there, this is serious. If they start shooting we’ll take the house off the top of the shelter. It’ll go anyway. Now, you and I are going up to the house.”

They walked around the greenhouse and up to the front door. Ke

The invaders trooped through the house and through the “secret” door and down.

There were storekeepers and Navy and Indians, grandparents and children and infants. Two old men and a heavy middle-aged woman had to be lifted from wheelchairs, carried inside, and deposited in the three decks of bunks. The wheelchairs stayed in the living room, along with everything else, suitcases, briefcases, picnic baskets, even heavy overcoats. The living room looked like a rummage sale. The rug was a swamp. Clara was too angry to scream, but Bill Shakes raged.

“We’ll have to tear up the floor to get rid of all they’ve trucked in! We’ve got one — count ’em, one — bathroom down there, and we’ll have to pack people in that too. We’ll have to fumigate — Commander, who’s going to pay for all this? What are you laughing at?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shakes. You submit a bill for damages. I guarantee you it’ll be honored, but you’d better wait an hour before you add up that bill, Mr. Shakes!”

George Tate-Evans felt his insides turning to water. What were we supposed to do, conduct a point defense against the Navy? We’ve got enough firepower here to get us all killed dead, and not even Jack lost his head quite that bad. Thank God. But they … none of them thought it through … The Navy searched us whe they came for the CBs, so they knew we had a bomb shelter. Half of Bellingham is trooping through our basement because we’ve got a bomb shelter, a bomb shelter! “Commander, what happens in one hour?”

“That’s still classified.”

“Are you out of your—”

“You had a fuck of a lot of radio equipment, and I’m not sure in my heart that we got it all, and the sheriff used his car radio to try to alert the populace! You almost died then, Mr… Tate Evans. I’ll tell you when I can. Really.”

“But what do we prepare for? How long will we be in there?”

“Hours, not days. Without us it would have been days,” Ke

“Decontam—”

Up the stairs came a riot of noise. People were jammed in the stairwell, all the way to the thick iron trapdoor. “Something I think we’d better do,” Isadore said. “Pass out all the booze. I mean it Bill. You heard the commander, the Navy’ll pay for it. But that’s a supercooled riot in there, and something awful’s about to happen and we’ll want them tranquil.”

“Right. Medicine too,” George said. The living room held only Navy men and the legitimate owners. “Commander, get your men to carrying booze. I’ll get the medical kit. We’ll set up on the stairs. Force the rest of those carpetbaggers down to leave the stairs clear. And then I’ll offer you a drink.”

“Not for—” The Commander checked his watch. “We’ve got twenty minutes. And then I’m prepared to drink a toast.”

There were no windows on Michael. The control room was buried deep in Michael’s heart, between the water tanks, with the tower to shield it too. For Harry and the others there was nothing by TV screens.

Somewhere outside, there were still people to talk to Gillespie. “Nothing from the President. If anything comes, it’ll be a messenger. We’ve got a tight phone to the gate.”

Gillespie said, “If a digit ship changes course anywhere, I want to know it.”

And the ti

“How long?”

“Eight minutes.”

There were cameras everywhere, inside and outside Michael. One camera on the wall of the dome showed all of the great ship: the Shell, the placement guns protruding under the rim, six towers around the base; the Brick standing above them, its flat sides hung with smaller spacecraft, shadowed by the overhang of the nose. The dome that had swarmed with activity, day and night, for months, now looked deserted, silent, empty.