Hastings was bounced off the opposite wall and came to rest across Copernick’s left arm.
LDUs had been monitoring the situation, and medical teams were on site within seconds.
It was three months before Hastings’ foot was regenerated, but Copernick was back on the job in five days.
The first three months after the plague started were hard on our race, but the end was in sight. At least in the western hemisphere, the long lines of refugees had found their various destinations. Over half of the human race lived crowded in or around tree houses, and virtually every family, group, and individual person had planted a tree house, the only means of shelter possible.
The other half of humanity lived in a ragged collection of plastic tents and lean-tos surrounding the food trees, waiting for them to start producing. In most cases some conventional food was available, much of it brought in on the broad backs of LDUs, but the “survival of the fattest” became a standing worldwide joke.
Once there was a reasonable probability of personal survival, a serious attempt was made to rescue as much as possible of the world’s cultural artifacts. Countless people crawled through crumbling museums, libraries, and laboratories to haul out and store artworks, books, and other artifacts. Much of the world’s art and virtually all of its literature, down to the lowliest technical manual, were thus preserved.
Other people, with less noble motives, sought to preserve for themselves much of the world’s wealth. One enterprising group found that the steel vault doors at Fort Knox had crumbled after the nearby guard units had disbanded. They made it inside and onto the incredible piles of gold ingots, lying free for the taking. Then the entranceway collapsed, sealing them in. They kept their treasure for the rest of their lives. About three days.
Throughout the western hemisphere, a million LDUs worked twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They hauled grain from crumbling elevators in Chicago and fought plagues in Georgia. They taught people in New England which wild plants were edible and built a wooden bridge across the Hudson to evacuate Manhattan and Long Island. It returned lost children and interrupted fourteen attempts at human sacrifice.
The nation-state had relied on dependable transportation and communication for its survival. These had ceased to exist. It had depended on economics, billions of dollars, pounds, and rubles to pay the millions of soldiers, politicians, and tax collectors that were the governments of two hundred nations. Economics had also ceased to exist; a paper dollar couldn’t get you a bite to eat, but a tree house would feed you for free. The world’s nation-states had ceased to exist.
Founded on a bewildering array of political, religious, and philosophical premises, new political organizations sprang up to fill the void, an incredible hodge-podge of societies, families, companies, cooperatives, churches, fraternities, and gangs. It was rare for any group to have more than a thousand members.
Slowly, painfully, a kind of order emerged as the food trees finally bore fruit.
Patricia and Mona had spent every day for two months traveling in Winnie, giving food, directions, and hope to everyone they could find in the Southwest. They had spent every other night on the road, and they were both physically and mentally exhausted.
“Time we took a couple of days off, Patty,” Mona said.
Their passengers that trip had included Lou von Bork and Senator Beinheimer. The women had dropped them off in one of the new suburbs, and Winnie was trotting back to Pinecroft.
“We certainly need it. But there’s still so much to be done,” Patricia said.
“The worst of it’s over. We can send out Winnie and Bolo to pick up the stragglers and bring them in.”
Dirk had gone with Guibedo, and Bolo, injured by a falling building, had taken on the guard duty.
“Suits me.” Winnie dropped the girls off at the front door, and trotted downstairs again to eat.
Of all the tree houses in the valley, Pinecroft was the only one that had not been turned into a hotel for refugees. Oakwood had more than fifty people living in it and the last thing Patricia needed was another crowd.
“Okay if I spend the night here, Mona?”
“Sure. Take the guest room off the kitchen,” Mona said. “Hey. Look at that. Heinrich made a new elevator.”
“I’m surprised he took the time for it,” Patricia said. “He looked so tired last time I saw him.”
“He should. Between his injury and worrying about the LDUs making another mistake, he hasn’t slept in three months.”
“Mistake? What do you mean?”
“In the early days, the LDUs were pretty naive. They didn’t understand human value systems, and they tended to take orders too literally. Look, I’m bushed. I’ll see you in the morning. Take the guest room off the kitchen,” Mona said, heading upstairs. “I’m going to sleep till noon.”
The next morning Patricia was eating breakfast alone. A nagging determination came to her.
“Telephone,” Patricia said.
“Yes, my lady,” the I/O unit answered.
“Uh… Where’s Martin?”
“I’m afraid your request is in conflict with my ‘right to privacy’ programming, my lady. He is well, and I can send him a message if you like.”
“Tell him…” Patricia halted, uncertain.
“Yes, my lady?”
“Oh, just forget it!”
“As you wish.” The CCU was incapable of forgetting anything, of course.
Patricia was finishing breakfast when Liebchen walked in.
“Liebchen! What are you doing here?”
“I—I’m visiting my sisters, Lady Patricia,” Liebchen said uncomfortably.
“Well, sit down and join me.”
“You’re not mad at me anymore?”
“I was never really mad at you. You only tried to make me happy, and you did.”
“I did?” Liebchen was delighted and scooted up on an oversized chair next to Patricia. “I didn’t think that you’d want to be my friend anymore.”
“Well, I guess we were all pretty upset when we found out about your programming experiment.” Patricia took another sip of tea. “I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, I missed you, too!” Liebchen was grinning and her tail was wagging furiously. “I was afraid that you’d never want to see me again!”
“Well, we’re friends again, Liebchen.” Patricia poured herself another cup of tea. “How’s Martin?”
“He’s fine.” Liebchen’s tail stopped wagging.
“Is he happy?”
“He’s… happier than he was, but not as happy as he used to be. With you, I mean.”
“I’d like to see him again,” Patricia said seriously.
“He’d like to see you, I think.”
“Is he here?”
Liebchen thought a second. “Here” could mean any territorial subdivision that the speaker was in. This house, this continent, this city. Liebchen decided that the proper context was “this room” and said, “No.”
“Liebchen?” Patricia stared at the table. “—I haven’t been celibate since… that night. I’ve had a lot of guys. But I never wanted to see any of them the next day. Do you understand what I mean?”
Liebchen, of course, didn’t understand at all. But she said, “You found them to be unsuitable, my lady?”
“Sort of. You see, the four months I had with Martin were the happiest months in my life. You gave them to me. You helped take it away. Can I have it back? Please?”
“I… don’t know what you mean, my lady.”
“I mean, make me some more of that pink stuff.”
“I don’t think I can. I mean I’m not allowed.” It was hard for Liebchen to deny any request.
“But wasn’t that because you did it without my permission?”