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And he saw two flocks of sheep, as well as horses and cattle. He saw signs of organized activity everywhere — newly cleared fields, some being plowed with teams of horses (no tractors that he could see), others still in process of clearing with men working to carry boulders and pile them into stone walls. The men generally had weapons on their belts, but not all of them were armed. By the time they came to the large driveway up to the big stone house, it had sunk in: For a few minutes, possibly for as much as a whole day, Dan Forrester was safe. He could count on living until dawn.

It was a strange feeling.

There were men waiting for them on the porch. They waved Dan Forrester on into the house without speaking to him. George Christopher jerked his thumb at Harry. “They need you inside,” he said.

“In a minute.” Harry helped Hugo Beck get down from the truck, then lifted off Forrester’s backpack. When he turned, George had his shotgun pointed at Hugo’s midsection.

“I brought him,” Harry said. “You must have heard that on the telegraph.”

“We heard about Dr. Forrester. Not this creep. Beck, you were put on the road. I sent you out myself. Didn’t I remember to say ‘Don’t come back’? I’m sure I did.”

“He’s with me,” Harry repeated.

“Harry, have you lost your mind? This scummy little thief isn’t worth—”

“George, if I have to start going around Christopher territory, the Senator will no doubt tell you any news he thinks you should hear.”

“Don’t push it,” George said; but the shotgun moved slightly, so it wasn’t pointed at anyone. “Why?”

“You can put him back on the road if you like,” Harry said. “But I think you should listen to him first.”

Christopher thought about it for a moment. Then he shrugged. “They’re waiting inside. Let’s go.”

Hugo Beck stood before his judges. “I came bringing information,” he said, too softly.

His judges were few. Deke Wilson, Al Hardy, George Christopher. And the others. It struck Harry as it had the rest: The astronauts looked like gods. Harry recognized Baker from his photograph on the cover of Time, and it wasn’t hard to know who the others were. The lovely woman who didn’t speak must be the Soviet kosmonaut. Harry burned to talk to her. Meanwhile, there were other things to be said.

“Do you know what you’re doing, Harry?” Al Hardy asked. His tone made it a sincere question, as if he were half certain that Harry had lost his mind. “You’re the information service. Not Beck.”

“I know,” Harry said. “I thought you should have this firsthand. It’s a little hard to believe.”

“And that I can believe,” George Christopher said.

“Don’t I get a seat?” Harry asked. Hardy waved him toward a chair and Harry settled back, wishing that Hugo would show more backbone. His behavior reflected on Harry. This reception wasn’t what Harry was used to, and it was Beck that caused it. No china cups and coffee. No shot of whiskey.

The balance of power was life and death at the Stronghold. One played the game well or stayed out of it. Harry tried to stay out of it, enjoy his utility without getting involved in local politics. This time he’d had to play. Had he seriously offended Christopher? And did he give a damn? It was strange, how Harry’s macho instincts had kicked in after Hammerfall.

“We put him on the road,” George Christopher was saying. “Him and that Jerry Owen, on my orders. Hell, even the Shire threw them out, and those scummy jerks tried to live by stealing off the rest of us, and Owen tried teaching communism to my ranch-hands! Beck comes back in over my dead body.”

There was a chuckle from the back of the room, from either Leonilla Malik or Pieter Jakov. No one paid any attention. There was nothing humorous in the situation, and Harry wondered if he’d gone too far. “While you’re discussing Hugo Beck, Dr. Forrester is about dead on his feet,” Harry said. “Can you do something for him, or does it depend on getting Beck settled first?”

Al Hardy didn’t look away from the center of the room, where Christopher was glaring at Beck. “Eileen,” he called. “Take Dr. Forrester out to the kitchen and take care of him.”

“Right.” Eileen came in; she must have been standing in the hall. She led Dan Forrester out. The astrophysicist followed woodenly, clearly about to pass out from exhaustion.

Hugo Beck licked his thick lips. “I’ll settle for a meal,” Hugo said, sweating. “H-hell, I’d settle for a stale soda cracker. I just want to know you’re still here.”

That earned him puzzled looks. “We’re here,” said Al Hardy. “Have you got information or not? I haven’t wakened the Senator yet, and he wants to talk to Harry.”

Hugo gulped. “I’ve been with the bandits. The New Brotherhood Army.”

“Son of a bitch,” Deke Wilson said.

“How long?” Al Hardy demanded. He was suddenly alert. “Did you learn anything?”

“Or,” Christopher asked, “did you just run the first chance you got?”

“I learned enough to want my damn brain wiped clean,” Hugo said, and Harry nodded; it was the strict truth.

“Maybe you’d better tell us,” Hardy said. He turned toward the kitchen. “Alice, get us a glass of water.”

He’s got their attention, Harry thought. Now, goddammit, talk like a man!

“There are over a thousand of them,” Hugo said. He watched Deke Wilson flinch at that. “Maybe ten percent are women, maybe more. It doesn’t matter much. Most of the women are armed. I couldn’t tell who was really in charge. It seems to be a committee. Other than that, they’re pretty well organized, but God, they’re madder than hatters” This crazy preacher is one of the leaders—”

Deke Wilson broke in. “Preacher? Did they give up cannibalism, then?”

Hugo swallowed and shook his head. “No. The Angels of the Lord have not given up cannibalism.”

“I’d better get the Senator.” Al Hardy left the room. Alice Cox came in with a glass of water, and looked around uncertainly.

“Just put it down on the table,” George Christopher said. “Hugo, you may as well wait to tell your story.”

Hugo said, “I told you why I left the Shire. My own land. Mine, dammit! They were giving me twice the work of anyone else. After Hammerfall they said their claim on the land was as good as anybody’s, right? All of us equals, just the way I set it up. Well, every damned one of them had to prove he was my equal some way, now they all had the chance.”

Nobody answered.

“All I want is work and a place to sleep,” Hugo said. He looked around the room. What he saw was not good: Christopher’s contempt for a man who couldn’t handle his own hands; Deke Wilson afraid to listen, afraid not to; Eileen standing at the door, the spacewoman in her chair, both taking it all in and giving nothing back; Harry looking sour and wondering if he should have brought Hugo after all; Mayor Seitz…

The Mayor stood up suddenly and swung a chair into place. Hugo dropped into it, hard. “Thanks,” he whispered. The Mayor silently handed Hugo the glass of water and went back to his own place.

Leonilla spoke softly to Pieter. The room was still and everyone heard the fluid syllables. They looked at her, and she translated. “A meeting of the Presidium,” she said. “At least it is as I imagine such meetings must have been. Excuse me.”

George Christopher frowned, then took a chair. They waited a few moments longer, and Al Hardy came in leading the Senator. He stopped in the doorway and spoke down the hall. “Alice, could you ride up for Randall? And Mr. Hamner, I think. Better take horses for them.”

Senator Jellison wore carpet slippers and a dressing gown over slacks and white shirt, his gray-white hair only partially combed. He came into the room and nodded to everyone, then looked at Harry. “Welcome back,” he said. “We were getting worried about you. Al, why hasn’t anyone brought Harry a cup of tea?”