Lucifer's Hammer

“But… what do you think Deke was saying?” Harvey asked.

“Hard to say.” Jellison sounded tired. He looked as exhausted as Forrester, and had the same gray color. His voice was grim. “You know the New Brotherhood tried an attack on the power plant this afternoon.”

“No.” Harvey felt relief. The power plant was over fifty miles away. The New Brotherhood was there, not here. They’d be fighting Baker. Relief, then guilt, and he shrugged off the guilt because it was the last thing he needed now. “What’s happening?”

“They were in boats,” Al Hardy said. “They sent in a surrender demand, and when Mayor Allen told them to go to hell—”

“What? Wait! Mayor Allen?”

Hardy showed his irritation at the interruption. “Mayor Bentley Allen is in charge at the San Joaquin Nuclear Plant, and no, I don’t know the details. The point is, Randall, that the New Brotherhood only had about two hundred people for the attack on the power plant. It was not much of an attack, and it did not succeed, and they did not renew it.”

Harvey looked over at Maureen. She was gathering up the Thermos and some honey and brown sugar in a briefcase. She’d known about the fight at the power plant, and she didn’t look as if she’d lost anyone there. He asked, “Casualties?”

“Light. One killed, of the Mayor’s police. Three wounded, don’t know how bad. None of them were from our relief force,” Hardy said.

“Hm. Good news from all over. I knew Bentley Allen,” Harvey said. “I know he was on duty in central L.A. at Hammerfall. He’s some kind of man, to get out of that! Fu

Al, Maureen, the Senator They watched him thoughtfully, seriously. “Not so fu

Hardy nodded. His lips pulled tight in a thin line, not a grin, a gesture of self-disgust. “Dammit, we did the best we could.”

“I was in charge,” Jellison said.

“Yes, sir, but I should have thought of it. But we were so busy trying to organize for the winter. We never had time to think about defense.”

“Hell, we’ve got defenses,” Harvey said. “You couldn’t expect a whole damned army to show up in the San Joaquin Valley.”

“Why couldn’t I?” Hardy demanded. “I should have. The point is, I didn’t, and now we all have to pay for my mistakes.”

“Look,” Harvey said. “If you hadn’t got us all working on food, there’d be nothing here to fight for. You don’t have to—”

The CB set beside Eileen came alive. Alice Cox’s voice came through clearly, high-pitched, young and afraid, but every word intelligible. “Senator, this is Alice.”

“Go ahead, Alice,” Eileen said into the mike.

“Mr. Wilson reports they are under heavy attack,” Alice Cox said. “There are a lot of them. Hundreds. Mr. Wilson says over five hundred. Mr. Wilson says he can’t hold them. He’s sending his people out now, and he wants instructions.”

“Holy shit,” Harvey Randall said.

“Tell her we’ll have orders for them in five minutes,” Senator Jellison said.

Eileen nodded. “Alice, can they wait five minutes?”

“I think so. I’ll tell Mr. Wilson.”

“You don’t sound surprised,” Harvey said. “You knew already.”

Al Hardy turned away. Senator Jellison spoke carefully. “Surprised? No. I had hoped the New Brotherhood would wait until their deadline ran out, but I am not surprised that they did not.”

“So what do we do now?” Harvey asked.

Al Hardy bent down to the maps. “We’ve been doing it since we got their ultimatum. I’ve had everybody we could spare from Forrester’s work digging in up on these ridges.” He pointed to penciled lines on the map. “Chief Hartman and his people have been working up there two days straight. George Christopher isn’t due back for three days. We hope he’ll have reinforcements, but we can’t count on it. Hartman’s people are exhausted and they are nowhere near through digging in. I gather that Forrester’s superweapons are not complete.”

“No. He expected another week,” Harvey said.

“Which we don’t have,” Jellison muttered.

Al Hardy nodded. “Harvey, you’ve been working all day, but not outside digging the way Hartman’s people have been. And someone must go buy us some time.”

Harvey had been expecting that. “You mean me.” He saw that Maureen had paused, briefcase full of sassafras and honey in her hand. She closed the door without going out and stood at the door looking back into the room. “It’s time I earned my keep,” Harvey said.

“That’s about the size of it,” Jellison said. He glanced at Maureen. “Was that stuff important?”

She nodded.

“You’ll get to talk to him before he goes. He’s got an hour or so,” Jellison said.

“Thank you.” She opened the door. “Be careful, Harvey. Please.” Then she was gone.

“I’ve got some troops for you,” Al Hardy said crisply. Now that the decision was made, he was all business again. Harvey thought he’d liked him better when he was sounding worried. “Not the best people we have. Kids, I’m afraid.”

“Expendables,” Harvey Randall said. He kept his voice flat.

“If need be,” Al Hardy said.

The worst of it, Harvey thought, is that it makes sense. You don’t put your best people out to buy time. You keep your best troops to dig in, and you send out what you can spare. Hardy can spare me! So can the Stronghold…

“We don’t expect miracles,” Senator Jellison said. “But it’s important.”

“Sure,” Harvey said.

“We want you to take the TravelAIl,” Hardy said. “We put your CB back into it. Take the TravelAII and a truckload of gear and go buy us some time. Days if you can, but hours anyway. As the Senator said, we don’t expect miracles. Deke’s people will make a fighting withdrawal. They’ll blow bridges and burn what they can on the way out. You go meet them. Take chain saws and dynamite and the winch on that TravelAll and make a mess out of the road.”

“Put them on foot,” Jellison said. “Get the New Brotherhood on foot. Ruin those roads. That buys us a day, maybe more, right there.”

“And how long do I stay out?” Harvey asked. He was having trouble with his breathing, and hiding it. You need time to psych yourself up, he thought; that, or zero time to get scared.

Jellison laughed. “I can’t order you to go sit there until they kill you. Maybe I would if I thought you’d do it… Never mind. Just let Deke’s people get past you, then come home — and take as long getting here as you can. Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

Harvey shook his head. He’d already tried to think of a better idea.

“You’ll do it?” Hardy barked the question, as if trying to catch Harvey in a lie.

It was irritating as hell, and Harvey barked back. “Yah.”

“Good man,” Hardy said. “Eileen, have the message relayed to Deke. Operation Scorched Earth is on.”

Task Force Randall, a dozen boys, the oldest seventeen; two teen-age girls; Harvey Randall; and Marie Vance.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Harvey demanded.

She shrugged. “They don’t need a cook just now.” She was dressed for hiking: boots, hat with earmuffs, and several layers of clothing topped by a jacket that was all pockets. She carried a scope-sighted rifle. “I’ve done some varmint hunting. I can drive. You know that.”

Harvey looked at the rest of his command and tried not to show dismay. He knew only a few of them. Tommy Tallifsen, seventeen, would be his other leader. He couldn’t imagine what Marie’s status would be. “Tommy, you drive the pickup.”

“Okay, Mr. Randall. Barbara A