Ben Bova - Test of Fire

The afternoon seemed infinitely long. Alec paced alone through the dead streets of the town, kicking up dust, watching the weeds and a few straggling flowers tossing in the warm wind.

Trees grew tall and dark in all directions around the town, but for some reason the trees planted along the streets were nothing but dead bare skeletons.

It took him several hours to calm down, to regain enough self-control so that he could face his own men without being afraid that his hands would tremble or his voice would crack. My father’s convinced himself that he’s right, Alec thought. And he’s convinced Will and the others, too. Everything mother told me about him is true.

He’s able to rationalize anything, everything: leaving us, not caring if we live or die. And he claims it’s for our own good. The bastard!

The flaming beauty of sunset went unnoticed.

Only when it started getting dark enough to worry him did Alec return to the trucks. He lost his way several times among the empty diverging streets, but finally he found the Post Office and his men.

They were eating with Will’s people, gathered around an open fire in front of the Post Office building.

“There you are,” Jameson said as Alec stepped out of the shadows cast by one of the trucks. “I was starting to think I ought to send a couple of scouts out to find you.”

“No need,” Alec said.

His own men and Will’s people were intermingling freely. The girls were laughing and charming the men. Angela was not in sight, though. Alec sat on the ground by the fire and shared their communal dinner. He didn’t bother asking what was in the pot. It was tasteless—at least, he tasted nothing.

Angela showed up as he finished eating.

“Dad wants to see you,” she said tightly.

He rose and started walking off with her.

Despite her small size she kept pace with him.

She’s tough, Alec couldn’t help thinking. Battle-hardened.

“Hey, chief, where you going?” Gianelli’s voice called through the flickering shadows cast by the campfire. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

The laughter of several men followed them.

“He’s not your father,” Alec said grimly as they walked around toward the rear of the Post Office.

Her eyes flashed and she snapped, “More than…” Then she seemed to catch herself, think better of it. “That’s right. He’s not really my father.”

“And you’re not my sister.”

“So?”

“So just remember that.”

Her voice was brittle. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Douglas was sitting in the jeep; it was still parked behind the building. The only light was from the stars; the Moon had not risen yet.

“Thank you, Angela,” Douglas said softly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Alec alone.”

“I don’t mind… Dad.” She put special emphasis on the last word, Alec thought.

“Well?” Alec asked, standing beside the jeep. He could barely make out the expression on his father’s face, in the darkness.

“What are your plans?” Douglas asked.

Alec hesitated, then lied. “I’m not sure yet. I have to talk to mother and the Council.”

“She’s still on the Council?”

“She chairs It.”

Douglas grunted. “I might have guessed. Matriarchal societies need a queen bee.”

Alec clenched his fists but said nothing.

“Listen to me,” Douglas commanded. “In the next few days you and your men are going to come down with dysentery. It’s not fatal…”

“We have pills for that.”

“Bull-hickey! The pills won’t do a damned thing for you, take my word for it. Once you start eating the local flora and fauna your gut bugs change and you get dysentery. It’s inevitable. And although it won’t kill you, it’ll make you wish you were dead. You’ll be in no condition to defend yourselves. Unless you’re safely in the shuttles, you’ll be helpless here. And I can’t afford to have my people sitting around here for days on end, protecting you.”

“So take off,” Alec snapped. “We don’t need your protection.”

“You could come with us.”

“And help you to build your empire?”

“Help save your mother and everyone else in the settlement!”

“I’ll save them—by getting those fissionables.”

Douglas shook his head, a ponderous negative motion. “No. That’s something you can’t do. They’re too far from here, and too well protected. You’d be dead long before you got to within a hundred kilometers.”

“I came here for the fissionables.”

“You’ll get yourself killed.”

“You’re going to kill me?”

“I won’t have to lift a finger!” Douglas was starting to sound exasperated. “There are a thousand ways of getting yourself killed here: raider bands, injuries… hell, you could even starve to death, if you know as little about survival as I think you do.”

“I’m going to get those fissionables, one way or the other.”

Douglas suddenly turned sarcastic. “Oh are you? Well, you’re going to find that that’s just a leetle tough to accomplish. In the first place, when you talk to your mother, she’s going to order you back home. I know her, and she won’t have her precious son running around here in the open where he might stub his toe.”

“You might have known her,” Alec flashed, white-hot, “but you don’t know me.”

“That’s true. Arid it’s a shame I never will. Because you’re either returning to the settlement or you’re going to be killed inside of a week.”

“We’ll see.”

“Indeed we will. It’s a shame your education is going to prove fatal. You might have eventually turned out to be somebody worth knowing. You’re stubborn enough to be my son, I’ll give you that much.”

With that, Douglas reached for the jeep’s dashboard and twisted the ignition key. The motor purred to life. An electric motor! Alec realized, taken aback with surprise. Without another word Douglas put the jeep in reverse, backed smoothly out of the parking lot, and disappeared silently into the night.

Alec stood there for some moments, fingering the pistol at his side, before he realized that he might have killed Douglas then and there.

Alec expected an argument from his mother the next morning, but he got none.

He sat buttoned into the armored cab of his truck, alone and isolated from the others. He reported everything that had happened so far, ending with his decision to head north and find the fissionables. His mother’s voice sounded strangely faraway, much colder and more distant than the quarter-million miles between them.

“You must do what needs to be done,” she said, metalically, icily, amid the cracklings and hisses of Sun-static.

“When I locate the fissionables you can send reinforcements to me.”

He could sense other pressures, other emotions working in her mind. “Very well, Alec. The Council will accept your plan. I’ll see to that.”

“And Kobol?”

The hesitation in her voice was more than the lag of lightspeed. “There are ways of handling Kobol. He won’t stop you.”

“You’ll need to bring out the other shuttles and make supply drops for us. We’re going to need medicine and ammunition, fuel for the truck generators…”

She said, “That will take time. Several days, at least. Probably longer.”

“All right. I’ll keep in touch through the satellite. It might be a good idea to activate one of the automatic relay satellites in synchronous orbit, if you can. Then we can keep a communications line open all the time.”

Her voice was fading, the satellite was passing out of range. “I’ll try, Alec. I’ll try.”

“Take care, Mother. Be careful.”