Footfall

“No,” Harry said. “But they’re coping.”—

“Eh?”

“Just about everywhere,” Harry said. “Things are tough. Tougher than here, mostly. But people are managing, one way or another. Greenhouses. Vegetable gardens. Chicken coops on rooftops.”

“Surprising,” Bill Shakes said.

“Yes, considering there’s not much the government can do Roger said. “Colorado Springs can’t even find out what people are doing, much less help them.”

“That’s why things are working,” George said. He knocking back his brandy and poured more. “Get the goddamn government out of the way and people can cope. You watch, if things get little better, good enough for the government to get active, ever thing will get worse again. Look at us! We’ve got government Boy, do we have government! Government people out the arse.

George was wrong, of course. Roger had seen it: what made it all work was just enough government. Government wasn’t powerful enough to meddle any more, but it could tell those who would listen how to help themselves: how to build greenhouse keep the plumbing working, deal with untrustworthy water supplies, eat all of a steer carcass: the things once printed in its survival manuals. George Tate-Evans must have expected his survivalists to be the government by now. Instead of decently dying away, the government had taken over his territory!

If Roger could say that just right, he’d get himself and Han kicked back into the Street. Instead he said, “Clara said there are lots of new people here. Why?”

Bill Shakes booked edgily at George, but George didn’t notice “Big government project in the harbor,” George said. “New people coming in. Navy people. Computer programmers. Ship fitting plumbers-we have to do all our own plumbing now. Every plumber for a hundred miles seems to work down there at Ui harbor.”

“They don’t moonlight?” Harry asked.

“They don’t even come out for a visit.”

“Hoo-hah.” Harry was on his second brandy. “And you guy came up here to get away from the crowds!” Harry chortled and poured himself another drink without asking.

“There is an amusing aspect to it.” Bill Shakes still wore his enigmatic smile. “I remember a story. There was a guy who knew the Second World War was coming. The news said it all. So he looked around for a quiet spot to sit it out, and he moved his whole life there. He picked an island out in the middle of the Pacific, way the hell away from everything. Called Iwo Jima.”

“We haven’t done that bad,” George said.

“No, but it isn’t the quiet little backwater with the silted-up harbor any more,” Isadore said. “The roads are crowded, the prices have gone up, there are MPs minding everybody’s business—”

“Screw them,” George muttered.

“But what are they doing down there?” Roger asked. “Who knows?” Isadore said. “They say they’ve built greenhouses and they’re growing wheat. You can believe as much of that as you want to.”

“And if I believe none of it?”

“Miranda’s Deputy Sheriff heard rumors that it’s a prison,” Isadore said. “Political prisoners from Kansas. Collaborators. They’ve built greenhouses, all right, but they’re working them with prisoners. Slave camp.”

“Serve the snout lovers right,” Harry said.

“They may not have had much choice,” Roger said.

“They could fight—”

“You captured one, Harry,” Roger said carefully. “But he was alone. I saw what happened to people who tried to fight them all. It wasn’t pretty.”

Bill Shakes leaned forward. “You were in alien occupied country? Tell us about it.”

Roger’s digital watch said 3:00 A.M. Both brandy bottles were empty, and they were better than halfway through a third.

Somewhere during the evening Miranda had brought down Kevin’s guitar for Harry to play, and nearly everybody came to listen while Harry sang his songs, but then the others had gone away, leaving George and Isadore and Bill.

Kevin Shakes was working on the government project-and hadn’t come home since he went down to the harbor. They got letters from him, and word through Miranda’s boyfriend.

Roger felt the tightness in his guts. I shouldn’t have had so much brandy. It’s hard to stay in control.

Something big in the harbor. Big.

George knows something he hasn’t said. What?

“About time to turn in,” Bill Shakes said.

He’s not drunk. I wonder just how much he really drank?

“Let me fmish this drink,” Roger said unsteadily. He knew he was rapidly wearing out his welcome. But I may not get a better shot. He went over to George and lifted his glass. “Death to tyrant Down with the state!”

“Right on!” George grinned and clinked glasses.

“Secrets,” Roger said. “They always have secrets. Like in Vietnam, when they kept it a secret they were bombing in Cambodia. Who was it secret from? The Cambodians knew. The Viet Cong had to know. I bet they even told the Russians. So who didn’t know?”

“Right,” George said. “Right.”

“So now they’ve got more secrets.”

“George,” Bill Shakes said quietly.

George didn’t listen.

“What the hell could they be hiding?” Roger shook his head “Probably something silly—”