“For now, we do, but if this Thread stuff is planetwide . . . we all see what it did to Landing’s fields,” Joel went on, motioning to the dark, ravaged area, “and if it keeps coming back, well – ” A woman made a protest of dismay that was clearly audible. “Well,” he went on, hitching up his trousers, “everyone deserves a fair share of what we’ve got. I see nothing wrong with going back to hydroponics for a while. We did just fine for fifteen years on shipboard, didn’t we? I’ll take any odds we can do it again.”
His jovial challenge met with mixed reactions, some cheering, others clearly apprehensive.
“Remember, too, folks, that Thread doesn’t affect the sea,” Jim Tillek said, his cheerfulness unforced. “We can live, and live well from the sea alone.”
“Most early civilizations lived almost entirely from the sea,” Mairi Hanrahan cried in a ringing, challenging tone. “Joel’s right – we can use alternate methods of growing. And, as long as we can harvest the sea for fresh protein, we’ll be just fine. I think we all ought to buck up, instead of collapsing under the first little snag.” She stared significantly at Ted Tubberman.
“Little snag?” he roared. He would have shoved through the crowd to get to Mairi if he had not been restrained. Tarvi and Fulmar moved in closer to him.
“Hardly a little snag,” Mar Dook said quickly, raising his voice over the ripple of mixed remonstrance and support. “And certainly tragic for many of us. But let’s not fight among ourselves. It’s equally useless for us to bitch that the EEC team did not do a thorough inspection of this planet and grossly misled us. But this world has already proved that it can survive such an incursion and regenerate. Are we humans any less resilient with the resources we have at hand?” He tapped his forehead significantly.
“I don’t want just to survive, hand to mouth,” Ted Tubberman shouted, his chin jerking out belligerently, “cooped up in a building wondering if those things are going to eat their way through to me!”
“Ted, that’s the biggest bunch of bilgewash I’ve ever heard from a grown man,” Jim Tillek said. “We got a bit of a problem with our new world that I sure as hell am going to help solve. So quit your bitching, and let’s figure out just how to cope. We’re here, man, and we’re going to survive!”
“I want us to send home for help,” someone else said calm but firm. “I feel that we’re going to need the defenses a sophisticated society can supply, especially as we brought so little technology with us. And most especially if this stuff returns so often.”
“Once we’ve sent for help, we have to take what is sent,” Cabot said quickly.
“Lili, what odds are you taking that Earth would send us help?” Jim Tillek asked.
Ted Tubberman jumped to his feet again. “Don’t bet on it. Vote on it! If this meeting’s really democratic, that is, let’s vote to send a mayday to Federated Sentient Planets.”
“I second the motion,” one of the medics said, along with several others.
“Rudi,” Cabot said, “appoint two other stewards and let’s take a hand vote.”
“Not everyone’s here tonight,” Wade Lorenzo pointed out.
“If they don’t wish to attend a scheduled meeting, they will have to abide by the decision of those who did,” Cabot replied sternly. He was met with shouts of agreement. “Let the vote be taken on the motion before us. Those in favor of sending a homing capsule to the Federated Sentient Planets for assistance, raise their hands.”
Hands were duly raised and counted by the stewards, Rudi Shwartz taking note of the count. When Cabot called for those opposed to sending for help, the majority was marked. As soon as Cabot announced the results, Ted Tubberman was vituperative.
“You’re damned fools. We can’t lick this stuff by ourselves. There is no place safe from it on this planet. Don’t you remember the EEC reports? The entire planet was eaten up. It took more than two hundred years to recover. What chance have we?”
“That is enough, Tubberman,” Cabot roared at him. “You asked for a vote. It was taken in sight of all, and the majority has decided against sending for help. Even if the decision had been in favor, our situation is serious enough so that certain measures must be initiated immediately.
“One priority is the manufacture of metal sheeting to protect existing buildings, no matter where they are. The second is to manufacture HNO3 cylinders and flame-thrower components. A third is to conserve all materials and supplies. Another problem is keeping a good eastern watch at every stake until a pattern can be established for Threadfall.
“I’m asking that we temporarily reinstate Emily Boll and Paul Benden as leaders. Governor Boll kept her planet fed and free despite a five-year-long Nathi space embargo, and Admiral Benden is by far the best man to organize an effective defense strategy.
“I’m calling for a show of hands now, and we’ll make it a proper referendum when we know exactly how long the state of emergency will last.” A ripple of assent greeted his crisp, decisive statements. “Rudi, prepare for another count. “ He waited a moment as the crowd shifted restlessly. “Let’s have a show of hands on implementing those priorities tonight, with Admiral Benden and Governor Boll in charge.”
Many hands were immediately thrust in the air, while others came up more slowly as the undecided took heart from their neighbors’ resolution. Even before Rudi gave him the count, Cabot could see that the vote was heavily in favor of the emergency measures.
“Governor Boll, Admiral Benden, will you accept this mandate?” he asked formally.
“It was rigged!” Ted Tubberman shouted. “I tell you, rigged They just want to get back into power again.” His accusations broke off suddenly as Tarvi and Fulmar pushed him firmly back down on the bench.
“Governor? Admiral?” Cabot ignored the interruption. “You two still have the best qualifications for the jobs to be done, but if you decline, I will accept nominations from the floor.” He waited expectantly, giving no hint of his personal preference in the matter and paying no afternoon to the restless audience and the rising murmur of anxious whispers.
Slowly Emily Boll rose to her feet. “I accept.”
“As I do,” Paul Benden said, standing beside the governor. “But only for the duration of this emergency.”
“You believe that?” Tubberman roared, breaking loose from his restrainers.
“That is quite enough, Tubberman,” Cabot shouted, appearing to lose his professional detachment. “The majority supports this temporary measure even if you won’t.” Slowly the audience quieted. Cabot waited until there was complete silence. “Now, I’ve saved the worst news until I was certain we were all resolved to work together. Thanks to Kenjo and his survey teams, Boris and Dieter believe that there is a pattern emerging. If they’re right, we have to expect this Thread to fall again tomorrow afternoon at Malay River and proceed across Cathay Province to Mexico on Maori Lake.”
“On Malay?” Chuck Kimmage jumped to his feet, his wife clutching his arm, both of them horrified. Phas had managed to find and warn all the other stakers at Malay and Mexico, but Chuck and Chaila had arrived just before the meeting, too late to be privately informed.
“And all of us will help preserve your stakes,” Emily Boll said in a loud firm voice.
Paul jumped up on the platform, raising his hands and glancing at Cabot for permission to speak. “I’m asking for volunteers to man sleds and flame-throwers. Kenjo and Fulmar have worked out a way of mounting them. Some are already in place on what sleds they could commandeer. Those of you with medium and large sleds just volunteered them. The best way to get the Thread is while it’s still airborne, before it has a chance to land. We will also need people on the ground, mopping up what does slip through.”