“I hope you are right,” Jakov said.
Leonilla nodded agreement. “This is the first time I have felt safe since we landed. I think they like us. Surely they do not care that Rick is black?”
“I can usually tell,” Rick said. “No. But there was something strange. Did you notice? After they found out about the war, all they wanted to know about was space. Nobody, nobody at all, asked about what was happening to the Earth.”
“Yes. But soon we will have to tell them,” Pieter said.
“I wish we could avoid that,” Leonilla said. “But yes, we will have to.”
They fell silent. Rick got up and poured the last of the coffee. From back in the kitchen there were sounds of activity, and outside they could see men carrying rocks, others plowing fields. Hard work, and it was certain that there’d be plenty for all of them, even Leonilla. Rick hoped so. He realized that he had been silently praying that there would be work, something to do, something to make him feel useful again, and to forget Houston and El Lago and the tsunami…
But for the moment he’d been given a hero’s welcome, and so had Leonilla and Pieter, and they were safe, surrounded by armed men who didn’t want to kill them.
He heard a low buzz of voices from somewhere at the back of the house. That would be the Senator and Johnny Baker and Deke Wilson and the Senator’s trusted staff, planning… what? Our lives, Rick thought. Was the Senator’s daughter there, too? Rick remembered how she and Johnny had looked at each other, their voices inaudible, their noses almost touching, no thought of anyone around them. How would that affect the Senator’s decisions?
It struck Rick that the Senator might like it fine. Johnny Baker was an Air Force general. If Colorado Springs had the power they claimed, that could be important.
“How many men here?” Pieter said. The question startled Rick from his reverie. “I estimate several hundred,” Pieter was saying. “And many weapons. Do you think that is enough?”
Rick shrugged. He’d been thinking of the far future, weeks, months ahead, and had almost managed to forget why they had come to the Senator’s Stronghold just now. “It’s got to be,” Rick said, and now he felt it too, the tension that Pieter and Leonilla had brought with them. It had never occurred to Rick that the Senator wouldn’t have enough strength. He’d been so sure that somewhere there were civilized men and women, real safety and civilization and order… .
And maybe there wasn’t any. Anywhere. Rick shuddered slightly, but he kept his smile in place, and the three of them sat in the paneled room, waiting and hoping.
“They call themselves the New Brotherhood Army,” said Deke. He looked around him — at Harvey Randall and Al Hardy and General Johnny Baker, George Christopher, who sat far to one side of the room, and Senator Jellison in his judge’s chair — and his eyes were haunted. He drank from his glass, and waited a minute while the whiskey worked its ancient magic, and said in a firmer voice, “They also claim to be the legal government of California.”
“By what authority?” Al Hardy demanded.
“Well, their proclamation was signed by the Lieutenant Governor. ‘Acting Governor,’ he calls himself now.”
Hardy frowned. “The Honorable James Wade Montross?”
“That’s the name,” Deke said. “Could I have some more of that whiskey?”
Hardy looked to the Senator, got a nod and refilled Deke’s glass. “Montross,” Al said musingly. “So The Screwball survived.” He looked to the others and added quickly, “An insider’s joke. In politics we usually have nicknames for people. The Loser. Grin and Bear It. Montross got tagged as The Screwball.”
“Screwball or not, he’s given me seven days to join his government,” Deke said. “Otherwise his New Brotherhood Army will take the whole place by force.” The farmer opened his Army-surplus field jacket and took a paper from an inner pocket. The paper was mimeographed, but the lettering was hand-drawn, in fine calligraphy. He handed it to Al Hardy, who glanced at it, then gave it to Senator Jellison.
“That’s Montross’s signature,” Hardy said. “I’m sure of it.”
Jellison nodded. “We can treat the signature as genuine.” He looked up to include everyone in the conversation. “The Lieutenant Governor proclaims a state of emergency and asserts what amounts to supreme authority within California,” he said.
George Christopher growled, a harsh grating sound. “Over us, too?”
“Everyone,” Jellison said. “He mentions the Colorado Springs announcement, too. Do you know anything about that, General Baker?”
Johnny Baker nodded. He sat next to Harvey Randall, but he didn’t seem to be part of the group in the room. The old gods have returned, Harvey thought. For the moment, anyway. How long will they be gods? Harvey had seen Baker with Maureen, and hated it.
“We caught a broadcast out of Colorado Springs,” Baker said. “I’m sure it was genuine. It was in the name of the Speaker of the House—”
“A senile idiot,” Al Hardy said.
“—who is acting as President,” the astronaut continued. “His chief of staff seems to be a brevet lieutenant general named Fox. I think that’s Byron Fox, and if it is, I know him. One of the professors at the Academy. Good man.”
George Christopher had been quietly fuming. Now he spoke, his voice low and full of anger. “Montross. That son of a bitch. He was around here a couple of years ago trying to organize the pickers. Came right onto my land! I couldn’t even throw the trespassing bastard off. He had fifty state cops with him.”
“I’d say Jimmy Montross has quite a lot of legal power,” Senator Jellison said. “He is the highest-ranking civil officer in California. Assuming the Governor’s dead, and he probably is.”
“Sacramento’s gone, then?” Johnny Baker asked.
Al Hardy nodded. “As far as we can tell, that area’s all underwater. Harry took a sweep north and west a couple of weeks ago and met somebody who’d talked to people who tried to get to Sacramento. All they found was more of the San Joaquin Sea.”
“Damn,” Baker said. “Then the nuclear power plant’s gone.”
“Yes. Sorry,” Hardy said.
“Deke, you’re not going to knuckle under to this goddam Montross, are you?” George Christopher demanded.
“I came here to ask for help,” Wilson said. “They can whip us. That army of his is big.”
“How big?” Al Hardy asked.
“Big.”
“Something puzzles me,” Senator Jellison said. “Deke, are you certain that the cannibal band you fought is part of this outfit that Montross is associated with?”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“Now don’t get upset.” The Senator’s famous charm was suddenly evident. “It just surprised me, that’s all. Montross was a screwball, but he wasn’t crazy. Or stupid, for that matter. He championed the underdog—”
There was a growl from Christopher.
“—or so he claimed,” Jellison continued smoothly. “But I wouldn’t have thought he’d be friendly with cannibals.”
“Maybe they’re holding him prisoner,” Al Hardy suggested.
Jellison nodded. “The point I was about to make. In which case he has no legal authority at all.”
“Legal, shmegal, what do I do?” Deke Wilson asked. “I can’t fight him. Will you people help me? I don’t want to give in to them—”
“Don’t blame you,” Christopher said.
“It’s not just the cannibals,” Deke said. “They may give that up if they can get… other food. But some of those messengers!”
“How big a party did they send?” Hardy asked.
“About two hundred camped down the road from us,” Deke said. “They sent in a dozen. All armed. General Baker saw them. A captain of state police—”