Larry Niven - Footfall

“What will they do?”

“The ship is ‘mated to a foot.’ I do not think it will be long mated. Nikolai has seen it.” He told her of Nikolai’s report.

“So you think they’ll throw the asteroid at Earth?”

“Why should they not?” Arvid asked seriously.

“No, of course it makes sense.” She shuddered. “And we thought it was bad when they attacked the bridges and dams! Now’s when it gets really bad.”

“Yes. I must say it is pleasant not having to explain these things to you.”

She made an irritated gesture. “Women aren’t stupid, you know.”

He shrugged. “Some are, some are not. As with men. Perhaps it is time to begin work again. Come, we can stay together. If you do not mind?”

“It’s all right.”

Fog lay across the Bellingham harbor, and rain drizzled from the skies. From the harbor area distant sounds of work drifted up to the Enclave: hammers, trucks, barge motors… something that buzzed…

“They’re sure building a hell of a greenhouse,” Isadore said. He laughed.

George Tate-Evans looked at their own efforts and joined the laughter. “Well, I guess it’s more than we did.” They went back into the house.

Kevin Shakes watched them go, then went back to work. “I thought we’d done pretty well,” he said.

“Sure,” Miranda answered. “Enough to send Mom up the walls.” In fact they had done a lot. Where picture windows had surrounded the X-shaped house, now there were steel shutters. Where the tennis court had been, above the hidden bomb shelter, there stood the skeleton of a greenhouse. Kevin was nailing glass plates into place with exquisite care. He’d finished the bottom two rows. Now he must work on the ladder, with Miranda to hand him tools and panes and move the ladder on its wheeled base.

George Tate-Evans and Isadore Leiber came out carrying half a dozen sheets of glass, laughing as they came. Kevin heard: “-still isn’t talking to you?”

“Vicki is ominously silent. Iz, I thought it was over once we got the shutters up. You know, ‘The house feels like a prison! I never thought we’d be living in a prison …’ And then she settled down. And then there was the President saying everyone should build greenhouses, and two days later you and Jack were saying that for once the fuzzy-headed liberal son of a bitch was probably right… Kevin, Miranda, how’re you doing?”

“So far so good,” Kevin said. “Maybe another two days. You could start planting now.”

“Let’s look it over, Iz.”

The older men set the glass on a pair of sawhorses. Isadore followed George around the corner and into the greenhouse. They walked the imaginary aisles, avoiding the white chalk markings put down to show where the plants would go. There was no glass to diminish their voices.

George was saying, “Iz, by the time we got serious about the greenhouse, all the glass in Bellingham and most of the plastic was bought up. Where else were we going to get glass?”

“You can see their point, though.”

“Clara too?”

“Damn straight.”

“All right, so it’s ugly. Why do we have to have all the women on our backs?”

“It’s not just ugly. We took out the windows. That means we’ll have these damn shutters till we can take down the greenhouse. If ever. Maybe we can put the windows back after the government job gets going.”

From above their heads Kevin said, “What?”

Isadore looked up in surprise. George didn’t bother. “Iz, you’re nuts. Depend on the government for food? God knows what the government’s going to do with the stuff it grows, but you can be sure we don’t get any of it.”

“Sure,” Kevin said. “Why else would they build greenhouses at the harbor unless they were going to ship it all out? We’ll never get any.”

“What make you so sure it is a greenhouse?” George asked.

“Oh, come on, it’s been all over the radio,” Isadore said. “Anyway, what else could it be? They say they’re setting up a whole regional grain belt. They’ll renovate the harbor and dredge it because they need it to ship the grain out. Isn’t that great? After all the trouble we spent finding ourselves a sleepy little backwater town…”

“Yeah, I suppose,” George said.

Isadore nodded. “Another thing. Prices’ll go up. That’ll hit your dad, Kevin, but we can stand it. Rohrs should like it.”

“Things’ll get crowded. Tourists. Traffic jams.”

“Kevin?” Miranda called.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s take a break.”

“But …” When his sister had that edge in her voice, there was something to it. Even their father knew that. “Be right with you.” He slid down the ladder.

“What?” he asked when they got to the water bucket.

“I was out with Leigh last night…”

“Yeah, you sure were. You were out late enough to have Dad pacing the floor. Mother wasn’t too happy, either. She kept saying you had to be safe, you were out with a policeman, but she didn’t mean it. Something happen — something we need to tell them? — Did he propose? Are you pregnant?

“Well, maybe, but not that.” She giggled. “No, Leigh told me something. He’s seen an astronaut.”

“Astronaut?”

“Gillespie. The one who commanded the last Shuttle, the flight that took that poor congressman up to the Russian space station. Gillespie’s in charge of this big government project — and they’re setting up all kinds of guard stations, fences, everything.”

“For a greenhouse?”

“That’s what I wondered. Leigh says they told him it’s to protect the food.”

“That makes sense. Look at all the trouble Dad went to to protect ours!”

“Sure, maybe, but an astronaut? Why, Kevin?”

“I don’t know, Randy.”

“I don’t either, and I think we should tell Dad.”

Bill Shakes was toting up accounts with the help of his pocket computer. Kevin and Miranda waited until they saw him pause. Then Kevin said, “We’ve got an astronaut in Bellingham.”

Shakes looked up. “So?”

“Major General Edmund Gillespie. He went up to Kosmograd with Dawson. Now he’s here. Miranda found out about it yesterday.” He was careful not to say last night.

Miranda took up the tale. “Leigh spent day before yesterday and part of yesterday taking him all over Bellingham. I asked him where he was, and he told me all about it.”

“What’s he want? I mean Gillespie.”

“I don’t know. Leigh says he looked over everything. He looked at the harbor, he looked at the railroad, he toured the whole town. All that, for a government greenhouse?”

Shakes scowled. “So we’ve got a real live astronaut scouting Bellingham. We’re getting too damn conspicuous. The thing about being a survivalist is you keep your head down.”

“We have to,” Miranda said. “There’s no gasoline, and Leigh says they’re going to close off the highway except for essential traffic, to save maintenance.”

“Hmm.” It was easy to see what Bill Shakes was thinking. Bellingham lay between mountains and the Straits of Juan de Fuca. Restricting highway use was the same as not letting them leave town. “Not that there’s anyplace better for us to go to,” Shakes said carefully. “We’ve invested a lot here, and we can’t take it with us.”

“Well, we thought you should know,” Kevin said.

“Yeah. Yeah … why an astronaut? I suppose he doesn’t have much of anything better, with the snouts shooting spaceships out of the sky. Still… it doesn’t fit.” Shakes frowned. “You like this deputy sheriff, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. See more of him.”

Kevin suppressed an urge to giggle.

Jack Clybourne stood in the doorway, blocking the President’s path. “No, sir,” he said firmly.