"Come to that," Goldberg said, "Alaska didn't get hit as hard as the rest of the country. Why couldn't we just leave people in their homes?"
"We're expecting an early and extremely harsh winter because of all the dust in the upper atmosphere," Ore explained. "Canada is advising all of its citizens in this area to move south as well. As you might expect, heating oil is going to be scarce this winter."
"Ah," Goldberg said wisely. "Of course." He shook his head. "I still can't believe it really happened."
"I honestly think it was an accident," Balewitch said.
"Well, whatever happened, I guess I'm more or less on permanent assignment to this mission. Where do these people go from here?"
"Various places," Ore said. "I haven't had time to compile statistics yet. We just take 'em in, move 'em out."
"Roll, rope, and brand 'em," Dog said. They all laughed, leaving the lieutenant confused. "Old TV show," Dog explained.
"Ohhh," Goldberg said, smiling politely.
Ore raised a hand and a guard trotted over. "Please escort the lieutenant and his men to the guest quarters when they've disembarked their passengers," he said. "That's building nine in the east quadrant." It was the newest building, so far unused, and far enough from the other parts of the camp to isolate the soldiers from the civilian "guests."
"You can park your vehicles in that area, too, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, sir," Goldberg said. He saluted and Ore returned it without missing a beat. "I look forward to working with you."
"Likewise," Ore said. "I'm sincerely grateful for your help."
The three Luddites smiled warmly at the lieutenant in the manner of people waiting for someone to go away. Goldberg smiled, waved awkwardly, and followed the guard in the direction the trucks had taken.
Ore turned and led them to his office. When they were safely inside he turned to them, an expression of wonder on his austere face. "He's perfect."
"He is that," Balewitch agreed. "I am looking forward to working with him."
"Let's relay our congratulations to Ron," Dog suggested, "and see if he has any more surprises for us."
CHAPTER EIGHT
ALASKA
John hugged his mother, feeling the hard muscle over the delicate bones. She was heading to South America to organize shipments of food and supplies. Their contacts there had confirmed that most countries below the equator had survived very well by comparison with the United States. That didn't mean there wouldn't be plenty of danger for his mother to deal with.
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her face for a long time. The gray light of morning made her look older than she was…
But we're not getting any younger, any of us, he thought.
And if we're being completely truthful in here, I'm a little scared. She's been my tower of strength all my life— even when I thought she was completely crazy. Even when she was crazy and I had to call her on the let's-kill-everything stuff…
"You be careful," he said sternly.
"Spoilsport," she said with a grin, thumping his chest lightly.
"I was planning to party my way down the Pan-American Highway."
He laughed. "I'm gonna miss you, Mom."
" 'Course you are," Sarah agreed. "I'll miss you, too. But you don't need me." She looked up at him, pride shining in her eyes.
"I'll always need you, Mom." He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her toward her motorcycle. "A guy needs his mom." He gave her another quick hug. "Don't get killed," he warned.
"Back atcha," she said.
Then she turned to Dieter. They'd said good-bye last night with an almost desperate passion. It might be years before they saw each other again. He gave her a sad smile and opened his arms. She walked into them and hugged him around his trim waist, leaning her head against his chest, listening to the firm rhythm of his heart.
"I love you," she whispered.
He cupped her head with one big hand. "I love you, too."
She reached up and brought his head down for a kiss. When it was over they gazed into each other's eyes like young lovers. She smiled.
"It's not forever," he said.
"No," she agreed briskly. She picked up her helmet. "Just longer than I'd like. Take care of yourself."
"What was it you said? Back atcha."
Sarah grinned and mounted the Harley, an older model they'd fixed to run on alcohol. They'd figured that would be more available than gasoline. And when worse came to worst they could manufacture the stuff. She kicked-started the big machine and with a wave started off. Sarah didn't even try to look behind; the helmet would hinder her visibility and she didn't feel like spoiling her exit by falling off the damn bike.
Maybe with me gone, John will find himself a nice girl, she thought. Or a bad one. She understood his grief and guilt at losing Wendy, she really did. But it wasn't right for a healthy young man like John to show no interest in the opposite sex.
Maybe a bad girl would be better, then; there'd be less resistance to slipping between the sheets.
John's so honorable, that could stop the whole program. I raised me a good man there.
Though Sarah feared it was some subliminal fear that his mother would put the evil eye on his sweetie. Which might be because she was feeling some residual guilt over her treatment of Wendy. Given the way things turned out. So, maybe with her out of the way, the emotional logjam would break and the next time she saw him he'd have a girl beside him with a baby in her arms.
Sarah examined the mental image, not sure how she felt about it. I don't think I'm ready to be a grandmother, she thought. Then an image of Dieter laughing uproariously at these absurd musings popped into her head.
God! But she was going to miss those two.
MISSOURI
Captain Yanik pulled the paper from the machine and read the dispatch. His eyebrows went up; good news for a change.
From: CONUS CentCom
To: Captain Charles Yanik, Black River Relocation Camp Subject: Rogue Trucks
Faults in rogue vehicles due to "noise" overriding computer's internal command structure causing vehicles to engage in random, but lethal manner.
While correcting problem technicians have devised method of making self-driving trucks function w/o drivers. Currently reduced traffic makes S/DTs more efficient than human drivers.
Once route is programmed into computer truck will safely deliver any cargo in least time over best possible route.
Complement of fifteen trucks en route to Black River Relocation Camp. Freeing troopers for other duties. END
MESSAGE
Such as what? Yanik wondered, looking around at the raw pine boards of the command shack.
Though he suspected that they'd be put to police work.
Regular police forces were overwhelmed. Now that the cooperative citizens were in the camps, the criminal element was having a field day breaking and entering, burgling, and committing arson.
Who the damn fools think they're gonna fence a TV to is beyond me. If there were any fences still operating out there, they were probably more interested in full gas cans or cases of soup. Bet you can keep your diamonds, though, Yanik thought, smiling.
He glanced through the open door and almost ran for his office when he saw Lieutenant Reese coming. He forced himself to stand and wait. The man was only coming to see if there were any orders waiting for him. Which there never were.
"Sir," Reese said smartly, giving a crisp salute.
Yanik returned it, less crisply. "There's been no change, Lieutenant. And the no-personal-messages-allowed orders still stand."