There was no chance to organize the flight; the Precipicians simply scattered, taking the shortest route to the edge of town and continuing into the surrounding farmland. Gasping, her feet cut by sharp grass and stones, Kate was overtaken by a bitch loping easily with a screaming child astride her back; she thought it might have been Brynhilde. Then a branch whipped across her face and she almost fell, but a strong arm caught and steadied her, hurried her another dozen paces, then hurled her to the ground in what shelter was offered by a shallow dip.
“No point in trying to go on,” Ted’s gruff voice said out of darkness. “Better to be closer behind a good solid bank of earth than further away and on your feet in the open.”
Two more people tumbled over the rim of the hollow. One she didn’t know; the other was the restaurant keeper, Eustace Fenelli.
“What is all the panic?” he demanded with a trace of petulance.
Rapidly Ted explained, and concluded after a glance at his watch, “The strike is scheduled for 0130, in about a minute and a half.”
For a moment Eustace said nothing. Then, with magnificent simplicity, making the single word into a whole encyclopedia of objurgation: “Shit!”
To her astonishment Kate had to giggle.
“I’m glad someone finds it funny!” Eustace grunted. “Who—? Oh, Kate! Hello. Is Nick here too?”
“He wouldn’t come,” she said in the steadiest voice she could achieve.
“He what?”
“He stayed behind.”
“But—! You mean nobody could find and tell him?”
“No. He … Oh, Ted!”
She turned blindly and fell against the sheriff’s shoulder, her body racked with dreadful sobs.
Faint in the distance they could now hear the teeth-aching whine of electric lifters, the superpowerful type fitted to low-level short-range strike planes. It grew louder.
Louder.
Louder.
THE LINE OF MOST RESISTANCE
To the President of the United States
URGENT AND MOST SECRET
Sir:
Copied to you herewith is a signal received at Lowndes Field at 0014 hours today, purporting to emanate from yourself as commander in chief and ordering a nuclear strike at coordinates that manifestly are within the continental United States.
In view of the fact that it was superficially convincing, being properly enciphered in a one-time cipher scheduled for use today, it came close to causing a disaster, specifically the death of approx. 3000 civilians in the town of Precipice CA. I regret to have to advise you that the mission was actually initiated, and only by a miracle was it aborted in time (on receipt of DoD signal #376 774 P, which warned all naval, military and air force bases that saboteurs might have gained access to the data net).
I have taken steps to discipline the officer who authorized inception of the mission, and upon my own responsibility have issued a signal summarizing the matter to all West Coast bases. I respectfully suggest that the some be done on a national basis, and at once.
I remain. Sir,
(signed)
Wilbur H. Neugebauer, General
AFTER TOUCH AND GO, GO
They saw the plane as it swooped. They saw it clearly by the eerie blue glow around its repulsors, gulping vast quantities of air into electrical fields so fierce that were a man to put his arm incautiously within their shining ring he would withdraw a stump after mere seconds.
They heard it, too: a howl as of a banshee.
But as it crossed the town … it let fall nothing.
After an hour of waiting, teeth chattering, fists clenched, scarcely daring to raise their heads in case the threatened attack should after all take place, the inhabitants of Precipice rediscovered hope.
And through the dark they stumbled and staggered homeward to an orchestra of wailing children.
Somehow—Kate never knew quite how—she found that she was walking with Bagheera at her side again, while next to Ted and a couple of paces ahead was Natty Bumppo.
Bagheera was purring.
It was as though he felt flattered at being declared an honorary dog.
Cautiously Ted opened the door of the Hearing Aid headquarters, while Kate and Sweetwater craned to look past him. Behind, half a dozen other people—Suzy, Eustace, Josh and Lorna, Brad, those who had begun to guess the explanation for their salvation—waited in impatience.
There was Nick, hands on arms, slumped forward fainting over his board.
Kate thrust past Ted and ran to his side, calling his name.
He stirred, licking his lips, and sat upright, putting his right hand to his temple. He seemed giddy. But on seeing Kate he forced a smile, and continued it to the others who by now were flooding into the room.
“It worked,” he said in a thin, husky voice. “I never dared believe it would. I was so scared, so terrified. … But I was just in time.”
Ted halted before him, gazing around the room.
“What did you do?”
Nick gave a faint chuckle and pointed to his screen. On it a signal from someone called General Neugebauer to the president was cycling over and over in clear text, there being too much of it to display all at once.
“It was a close call,” he added. “Damned close. The duty officer at Lowndes must be used to doing as he’s told and no questions please. … When I realized the plane was already on its way I nearly collapsed.”
Sweetwater, pushing her way through the crowd, stared at the screen.
“Hey,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Was there a Department of Defense signal number whatever?”
“Of course not.” Nick rose, stretched, stifled a colossal yawn. “But it seemed like the quickest solution to invent it.”
“Quickest!” Sweetwater withdrew half a pace, eyes large with awe, and started to count off on her fingers. “Near as I can figure it, you had to write the signal in proper jargon, find a reference number for it, encode it in the proper cipher for today, feed it to Lowndes over the proper circuit—”
“Mark it for automatic decipherment instead of being left over to the morning like most nighttime signals traffic,” Ted butted in. “Right, Nick?”
“Mh-hm,” he agreed around another and fiercer yawn. “But that wasn’t what took the time. I had to track down General Neugebauer’s home code, which is ex-directory at all levels below Class Two Star priority. And he wasn’t happy at being woken up, either.”
“And you did it in less than ten minutes?” Kate said faintly.
Nick gave a shy grin. “Oh, looking back on it, I feel I had all the time in the world.”
Drawing herself up to her full height, Suzy Dellinger advanced on him.
“It doesn’t often happen,” she said with a trace of awkwardness, “that a mayor of this town has to undertake the sort of formal ceremony you find in other places. We tend to do it without the trimmings. This is that sort of occasion. I don’t have to ask permission of my fellow citizens. Anybody who disagreed wouldn’t be a Precipician. Nicholas Kenton Haflinger, in my official capacity, I’m proud to convey the thanks of us all.”
She made to shake hands with him. And was forestalled.
Natty Bumppo had as usual taken station next to his owner. Unexpectedly he rose, shouldered Suzy aside, planted his vast front paws on Nick’s chest, and slapped him across both cheeks with his broad red tongue.
Then he resumed his stance beside Ted.
“I—uh …” Nick had to swallow before he could go on. “I guess that must be what you call an accolade.”
Suddenly everyone was laughing, except him. And except Kate, whose arms were around him and whose face was wet with tears.
“Nothing like this happened before, did it?” she whispered.