r.,w
VAN VOGT’S Complete Novelette THE SILKIE
JULY 1964
SCIENCE FICTION
Y
Beginning This Issue — FARNHAM’S FREEHOLD
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WORLDS OF
JULY, 1964
SCIENCE
FICTION
VOL. 14, NO. 3
ALL NEW STORIES
Fredenk Pohl, Editor . _ Sol Cohon, Publisher
David Perfon, Production Manager Dave Geller, Assoc,
SERIAL — First of Three Parts
FARNHAM'S FUXHOLD by ROBERT A. HEINLEIN 6
NOVELETTES
THE MATHENAIITS by NORMAN KAGAN 82
THE SILKIE by A. E. VAN VOGT 104
SHORT STORIES
WEETL by JACK SHARKEY 78
OLD TESTAMENT by JEROME BIXBY 97
FEATURt
EDITORIAL by FREDERIK POHL 4
Cover by MORROW for THE SILKIR
IF published monihly by Galaxy Publishing Corporation, Robert M. Gufnn, President, Vol 14, No. 3, Main Office: 421 Hudson Street, New York 14, New York. 40c per copy. Subscriptions 12 issues $4.00 in the United States, Canada, Mexico, South America and Central America and U.S. possessions, elsewhere $5.00. Second-class postage paid at New York, New York, and at additional mailing offices. Copyright by Galaxy Publishing Corporation, 1964. All rights including translations reserved. Ail material submitted must be accompanied by self-addressed stamped envelopes. The publisher assumes no responsibility for unsolicited materitil. All stories are fiction, and ony similarity between character and actual persons is coincidental.
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IF • Serial
FAMWHAM’S
BY ROBERT A. HEINLEIN
Iff the wreck of the world they knew they found a life stranger than any they dared dreamt i
rLLUSTRATED BY GAUGHAN
PtRST Of THIfflE PARTS
FREEHOLD
I
iiTt’s not a hearing aid,” Hubert
X Farnham explained. “It’s a radio, tuned to the emergency fre- quency.”
Barbara Wells stopped with a bite halfway to her mouth. “Mr. Farn- ham! You think they are going to attack?”
Her host shrugged. “The Kremlin doesn’t let me in on its secrets.”
His son said, “Dad, quit scaring the ladies. Mrs. Wells — ”
“Call me ‘Barbara.’ I’m going to ask the court to let me drop the ‘Mrs.’ ”
“You don’t need permission.” “Watch it. Barb,” his sister Karen said. “Free advice is expensive.” “Shaddap. Barbara, with all re- spect to my worthy father, he sees spooks. There is not going to be a war.”
7
“I hope you’re right,” Barbara Wells said soberly. “Why do you think so?”
“Because the communists are realists. They never risk a war that would hurt them, even if they could win. So they won’t risk one they can’t win.”
“Then I wish,” his mother said, “that they would stop having these dreadful crises. Cuba. All that fuss about Berlin — as if anybody cared! And now this. It makes a person nervous. Joseph!”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You fetch me coffee. And brandy. Cafe royale.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The houseboy, a young Negro, removed her plate, barely touched.
Young Farnham said, “Dad, it’s not these phony crises that has Mother upset; it’s the panicky way you behave. You must stop it.” “No.”
“You must! Mother didn’t eat her dinner . . . and all because of that silly button in your ear. You can’t — ”
“Drop it, Duke.”
“Sir?”
“When you moved into your own apartment, we agreed to live as friends. As my friend your opinions are welcome. But that does not make you free to interfere between your mother — my wife — and myself.” His wife said, “Now, Hubert.” “Sorry, Grace.”
“You’re too harsh on the boy. It does make me nervous.”
“Duke is not a boy. And I’ve done nothing to make you nervous.”
“I’m sorry, too. Mother. But if Dad regards it as interference, well — ” Duke forced a grin — “I’ll have to find a wife of my own to annoy. Barbara, will you marry me?”
“No, Duke. Anyway, I agree with your father. Every car in our family has a survival kit. My father’s idea. If anything happened. Pops would expect me to head up into the moun- tains.”
“You won’t need to.”
“Sir?”
“Dad means,” explained Karen, “that you are welcome in our panic hole.”
Barbara showed a questioning look.
Her host said, “Our bomb shel- ter. ‘Farnham’s Folly’ my son calls it. I think you would be safer there than you would be running for the hills — despite the fact that we are only ten miles from a MAMMA Base. If an alarm comes, we’ll duck into it. Right, Joseph?”
“Yes, sir! That way I stay on your payroll.”
“The hell you do. You’re fired the instant the sirens sound — and I start charging you rent.”
“Do I pay rent, too?” asked Bar- bara.
“You wash dishes. Everybody does. Even Duke.”
“Count me out,” Duke said grim-
ly-
“Eh? Not that many dishes. Son.” “Fm not joking. Dad; Khrushchev said he would bury us — and you’re making it come true. I’m not going to crawl into a hole in the ground!”
8
IF
“As you wish, sir.“
“Sonny boy!” His mother put down her cup. “If an attack comes, of course you’re going into the shel- ter!” She blinked back tears. “Prom- ise Mother.”
Young Farnham looked stubborn, then sighed. “All right. If an attack comes — If an alarm sounds, I mean; there isn’t going to be an attack — in go into your panic hole. But, Dad, this is just to soothe Mother’s nerves.”
“Nevertheless you are welcome.”
“Okay. Let’s go into the living room and break out the cards — with a firm understanding that we drop the subject.”
Barbara played as Farnham’s part- ner, and the father and son had a private wager of a cent a point. The stakes made her tense, even though it was not her money. Her nervous- ness was increased by suspicion that her partner was a match player with a lot of experience.
Her nerves relaxed, though not her care, as it began to appear that Mr. Farnham found her bidding satisfactory. But she welcomed the rest that came from being dummy. She spent these vacations studying Hubert Farnham.
She decided that she liked him, for the way he handled his family and for the way he played bridge — quietly, thoughtfully, exact in bid- ding, precise and sometimes brilliant in play. She admired the way he squeezed out the last trick, of a con- tract in which she had forced them too high, by having the boldness to sluff an ace.
T_T ubert Farnham looked up from A the last trick. “Three spades, game and rubber. Well bid, part- ner.”
She flushed again. “Well played, you mean. I invited too much.”
“Not at all. At worst we would have been down one. If you don’t bet, you can’t win. Karen, has Joseph gone to bed?”
“Studying. He’s got a quiz.”
“I thought we might invite him to cut in. Barbara, Joseph is the best player in this house — always a^i- dacity at the right time. Plus the fact that he is studying to be an ac- countant and never forgets a card. Karen, can you find us something without disturbing Joseph?”
Spect ah kin. Boss. Vodka and tonic for you?”
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
9
“And muching food.”
“Come on, Barbara. Let’s buttle.” Hubert Farnham watched them fo, while thinking it was shame that so nice a child as Mrs. Wells should have had a sour marriage. A sound fame of bridge and a good disposi- tion. Gangly and horsefaced, per- haps. But a nice smile and a mind of her own. If Duke had any gump- tion —
But Duke didn’t have any. Farn- ham went to where his wife was nod- ding by the television receiver, and said, “Grace? Grace darling, ready for bed?” — then helped her into her bedroom.
Karen came in carrying drinks, followed by Barbara. “Hi! Barb got a look at our kitchen and decided to Make crepes Suzettes.”
“Fine. If you will snap the tele- wion on, we might get part of the Im o’clock roundup.”
" — agreed in principal to three mti of four of the Presidents major points and has agreed to meet again $o discuss the fourth point, the pre- aence of their nuclear submarines in our coastal waters. It may now be oafely stated that the crisis, the most acute in post-World-War-Two years, does seem to he tapering off to a mutual accommodation that both countries can live with. We pause to bring you exciting news from Gen- eral Motors followed by an analysis in depth — ”
Karen turned it down. Duke said, “Just as I said. Dad. You can take that cork out of your ear.”
“Later. Fm busy with crepes Suzettes. Barbara, I’ll expect these
for breakfast every morning.”
“Dad, quit trying to seduce her and cut the cards. I want to win back what I’ve lost.”
“That’ll be a long night.” Mr. Farnham finished eating, stood up to put his plate aside; the doorbell rang. “I’ll answer it.”
He went to the door, returned shortly. Karen said, “Who was it, Daddy? I cut for you. You and I are partners. Look pleased.”
“I’m delighted. But remember that a count of eleven is not an opening bid. Somebody got lost, I guess. Possibly a nut.”
“My date. You scared him off.” “Possibly. A bald-headed old coot, very weather-beaten and ragged.” “My date,” Karen confirmed. “President of the Dekes. Go get him. Daddy.”
“Too late. He took one look at me and fled. Whose bid is it?” Barbara continued to try to play like a machine. But it seemed to her that Duke was overbidding; she found herself thereby bidding timid- ly and had to force herself to over- come it. They went set several times in a long, dreary rubber which they “won” but lost on points.
It was a pleasure to lose the next rubber with Karen as her part- ner. They shifted and again she was Mr. Farnham’s partner. He smiled at her. “This time we clobber them!” “I’ll try.”
“Just play as you did. By the book. Duke will supply the mis- takes.”
“Put your money where your
10
IF
mouth is, Dad. Want a side bet of a hundred dollars on this rubber?” •‘A hundred it is.”
Barbara thought about seventeen lonely dollars in her purse and got nervous. She was still more ner- vous when the first hand ended at five clubs, bid and made — by Duke — and realized that he had overbid and would have been down one had she covered his finesse.
Duke said, “Care to double that bet. Governor?
“Okay. Deal.”
Her morale was bolstered by the second hand: her contract at four spades and made possible by voids; she was able to ruff before cleaning out trumps. Her partner’s smile was reward enough. But it left her shaky.
Duke said, “Both teams vulner- able, no part score. How’s your
blood pressure, Daddy-o? Double again?”
“Planning on firing your secre- tary?”
“Speak up, or accept a white feather.”
“Four hundred. You can sell your car.”
Mr. Farnham dealt. Barbara pick- ed up her hand and frowned. The count was not bad — t^o queens, a couple of jacks, an ace, a king — but no biddable suit and the king was unguarded. It was a strength and dis- tribution which she had long tag- ged as “just good enough to go set on.” She hoped that it would be one of those sigh-of-relief hands in which everyone passes.
Her partner picked up his hand and glanced at it. “Three no trump.”
Barbara repressed a gasp, Karen did gasp. “Daddy, are you feverish?”
“Bid.”
“Pass!”
Barbara said to herself, “ ‘Dod oh dod, what I do now?’ ”
Her partner’s bid promised twenty-five points — and invited slam. She held thirteen points. Thirty-eight points in the two hands
— Grand slam.
That’s what the book said! Bar- bara girl, “three no trump” is 25, 26, or 27 points — add thirteen and it reads “Grand Slam.”
But was Mr. Farnham playing by the book? Or was he bidding a shut-out to grab the rubber and nail down that preposterous bet?
If she passed, then game and rubber — and four hundred dollars
— was certain. But grand slam (if
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
11
they made it) was, uh, around fifteen dollars at the stakes Duke and his father were playing. Risk four hun* dred dollars of her partner’s money igainst a chance of fifteen? Ridicu- ous!
(But her partner had said, “Play by the book.”)
“Seven no trump,” she said firm-
:y-
Duke whistled. “Thanks, Barbara. We’re ganging up on you, Dad. Double.”
“Pass.”
“Pass,” Karen echoed.
Barbara again counted her hand. That singleton king looked awfully naked. But . . . either the home earn had thirty-eight points — or ;t didn’t. “Redouble.”
Duke grinned. “Thanks, sweetie pie. Your lead. Karen.”
Mr, Farnham put down his hand and abruptly left the table, rlis son said, “Hey! Come back and :ake your medicine!”
Mr. Farnham snapped on the tele- vision, moved on and switched on :he radio, changed its setting. “Red niert!” he snapped. “Somebody tell Joseph!” He ran out of the room.
“Come back! You can’t duck this with that kind of stunt!”
“Shut up, Duke!” Karen snapped. The television screen flickered !nto life: “ — closing down. Tune at once to your emergency station. Good luck, good-by, and God bless you alir
As the screen went blank the radio -ut in: “ — not a drill. This is not a drill. Take shelter. Emergency
personnel report to their stations. Do not go out on the street. If you have no shelter, stay in the best pro- tected room of your home. This is not a drill. Unidentified ballistic ob- jects have been radar-sighted by our early-warning screens and it must be assumed that they are missiles. Take shelter. Emergency personnel report to their — ”
“He means it,” Karen said in an awed voice. “Duke, show Barb where to go. I’ll wake Joseph.” She ran out of the room.
Duke said, “I don’t believe it.”
“Duke, how do we get into the shelter?”
“I’ll show you.” He stood up un- hurriedly, picked up the hands put each in a separate pocket. “Mine and Sis’s in my trousers, yours and Dad’s in my coat. Come on. Want your suitcase?”
“No!”
II
Duke led her through the kitchen to basement stairs. Mr. Farn- ham was halfway down, his wife in his arms. She seemed asleep. Duke snapped out of his attitude. “Hold it, Dad! I’ll take her.”
“Get on down and open the door!” The door was steel set into the wall of the basement. Seconds were lost because Duke did not know how to handle its latch. At last Mr. Farn- ham passed his wife over to his son, opened it himself. Beyond, stairs led farther down. They managed it by carrying Mrs. Farnham, hands and feet, a limp doll, and took her
12
IF
through a second door into a room beyond. Its floor was six feet lower than the basement and under, Bar- bara decided, their back garden. She hung back while Mrs. Farnham was carried inside.
Mr. Farnham reappeared. “Bar- bara! Get in here! Where’s Joseph? Where’s Karen?”
Those two came rushing down the basement, stairs as he spoke. Karen was flushed and seemed ex- cited and happy. Joseph was look- ing wild-eyed and was dressed in undershirt and trousers, his feet bare.
He stopped short. “Mr. Farnham! Are they going to hit us?”
“I’m afraid so. Get inside.”
The young Negro turned and yell- ed, ''Doctor Livingstone I presumed He dashed back up the stairs.
Mr. Farnham said, “Oh, GodV* and pressed his fists against his temples. He added in his usual voice, “Get inside, girls. Karen, bolt the door but listen for me. I’ll wait as long as I can.” He glanced at his watch. “Five minutes.”
The girls went in. Barbara whisp- ered, “What happened to Joseph? Flipped?”
“Well, sort of. Dr.-Livingstone- 1-Presume is our cat. Loves Joseph, tolerates us.” Karen started bolting the inner door, heavy steel, and secured with ten inch-thick bolts.
She stopped. “Fm damned if I’ll bolt this all the way while Daddy is outside!
“Don’t bolt it at all.”
Karen shook her head. “I’ll use a couple, so he can hear me draw
them. That cat may be a mile away.* Barbara looked around. It was an L-shaped room; they had entered the end of one arm. Two bunks were oa the righthand wall; Grace Farnham was in the lower and still asleep. The left wall was solid with packed shelves; the passage was hardly wider than the door. The ceiling was low and arched and bf corrugated steel. She could see the ends of two more bunks at the bend. Duke was not in sight but he quickly appeared from around the bend, started setting up a card table in the space there. She watched in amazement as he got out the cards he had picked up — how long ago? It seemed an hour. Probably less than five minutes.
Duke saw her, grinned, and placed folding chairs around the table.
There came a clanging at the door. Karen unbolted it; Joseph tumbled in, followed by Mr. Fam- ham. A lordly red Persian cat jump- ed out of Joseph’s arms, started an inspection. Karen and her father bolted the door. He glanced at his wife, then said, “Joseph! Help me crank.”
“Yes, sir!”
Duke came over. “Got her nut- toned up, Skipper?”
“All but the sliding door. It has to be cranked.”
“Then come take your licking.” Duke waved at the table.
His father stared. “Duke, are vou seriously proposing to finish a card game while we’re being attacked?” “I’m four hundred dollars sen- ous. And another hundred says we
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
13
aren't being attacked. In a half hour they’ll call it off and tomorrow’s papers will say the northern lights fouled up the radar. Play the hand? Or default?”
‘‘-Mmm. My partner will play it; I’m busy.”
“You stand behind the way she plays it?”
“Of course.”
Barbara found herself sitting down at the table with a feeling that she had wandered into a dream. She picked up her partner’s hand, studied it. “Lead, Karen.”
Karen said, “Oh, hell!” and led the trey of clubs. Duke picked up the dummy, laid it out in suits. “What do you want on it?” he ask- ed.
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll play both hands face up.”
“Better not.”
“It’s solid.” She exposed the cards.
Duke studied them. “I see,” he admitted. “Leave the hands; Dad will want to see this.” He did some figuring. “Call it twenty-four hun- dred points Dad!”
“Yes, Son?”
“I’m writing a check for four hundred and ninety-two dollars — and let that be a lesson to me.”
“You don’t need to — ”
All lights went out, the floor slammed against their feet. Barbara felt frightening pressure on her chest, tried to stand up and was knocked over. All around was a noise of giant subway trains, and the floor heaved like a ship in a cross sea.
“Dad!”
“Yes Duke! Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know. But mako duH five hundred and mnoty-two dol- lars!”
The subterranean rumbling weal on. Through this roar Barbara heard Mr. Farnham chuckle. “Forget it!" he called out. “The dollar just de- preciated.”
Mrs. Farnham started to screanL “Hubert! Hubert, where are you? Hubert! Make it stop! Please make it stop!”
“Coming, dear!” A pencil of light cut the blackness, moved toward the bunks near the door. Barbara raised her head, made out that it was her host, on hands and knees with a flashlight in his teeth. He reached the bunk, succeeded in quieting Grace; her screams ceased. “Karen?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Just bruised. My chair went over.”
“All right. Get the emergency lighting on in this bay. Don’t stand up. Crawl, ril light you from here. Then get the hypo kit and — Ow! Joseph!”
“Yes, sir.”
“You in one piece?”
“I’m okay. Boss.”
“Persuade your furry-faced Fal- staff to join you. He jumped on
„ II
me.
“He’s just friendly, Mr. Farn- ham.”
“Yes, yes. But I don’t want him doing that while I’m giving a hypo. Call him.”
“Sure thing. Here, Doc! Doc, Doc, Doc! Fish, Doc!”
14
IF
Some minutes later the rumbling had died out, the floor was steady, Mrs. Farnham had been knocked out by injected drug, two tiny lights were glowing in the first bay, and Mr. Farnham was inspect- ing.
Damage was slight. Despite guard rails, cans had popped off shelves; a fifth of rum was broken. But liquor was almost the only thing stored in glass. The worst casualty was the shelter’s battery-driven radio, torn loose from the wall and smashed.
Mr. Farnham was on his knees, re- trieving bits of it. His son looked down. “Don’t bother. Dad. Sweep it up and throw it away.”
“Some parts can be salvaged.” “What do you know about radios?”
“Nothing,” his father admitted. “But I have books.”
“A book won’t fix that. You should have stocked a spare.”
“I have a spare.”
“Then for God’s sake get it! I want to know what’s happened.”
His father got up slowly and look- at Duke. “I would like to know, too. I can’t hear anything over this radio I’m wearing. Not surprising, it’s short range. But the spare is packed in foam and probably wasn’t hurt.” “Then- get it hooked up.” “Later.”
“Later, hell. Where is it?”
Mr. Farnham breathed hard. “I’ve had all the yap I’m going to take. Fm going to wait until I’m sure the attack is over. If you’re itching to know what’s happening outside, you can leave. If that’s what you want
I’ll unbolt this door, crank back the armor door, and you can open the upper door yourself.”
“Eh? Don’t be silly.”
“But close it after you. I don’t want it open — both for blast and radioactivity.”
“That’s another thing. Don’t you have any way to measure radio- activity? We ought take -steps to — ”
''SHUT UPr
“What? Dad, I don’t appreciate being bawled out in the presence of others.”
“Then keep your voice down.” They were in the first bay near the door. Mrs. Farnham was snoring by them; the others had retreated around the bend, unwilling to wit- ness. “Are you ready to listen to me now?”
“Very well, sir,” Duke said stiffly.
“Good. Son, I was not joking. Either leave ... or do exactly as 1 tell you. That includes keeping your mouth shut when I tell you to. Which will it be? Absolute obedi- ence, prompt and cheerful? Or will you leave?”
“Aren’t you being rather high- handed?”
“I intend to be. This shelter is a lifeboat and I am boat officer. For the safety of all I shall main- tain discipline. Even if it means tossing somebody, even my own son, overboard.”
“That’s a far-fetched simile. Dad, it’s a shame you were in the Navy. It gives you romantic ideas.”
“/ think it’s a shame, Duke, that you never had service. You’re not realistic. Well, which is it?”
FARMHAM'S FREEHOLD
15
“Uh, ril be cooperative. But tliis absolute dictatorship — Dad, tonight you made quite a point of the fact that you are a free man. Well, so am I. I’ll cooperate. But I won’t take unreasonable orders and, as for keeping my mouth shut, ril try to be diplomatic. But when I think it’s necessary, I’ll voice my opinion. Free speech. Fair enough?”
His father sighed. “Not nearly good enough, Duke. Stand aside. I want to unbolt the door.” “Don’t push a joke too far, Dad.” “I’m not joking. I’m putting you out.”
“Dad ... I hate to say this . . . but I don’t think you are man enough. I’m bigger than you are and a lot younger.”
“Duke, please! I built this shelter. Not two hours ago you were sneer- ing at it, telling me that it was a ‘sick* thing to do. Now you want to use it, since it turned out you were wrong. Can’t you admit that?”
“Oh, certainly. You’ve made your point.”
“Yet you are telling me how to run it. Telling me that / should have provided a spare radio. When you hadn’t provided anything. Can’t you be a man, give in, and do as I tell you? When your life depends on my hospitality?”
“Cripes! I told you I would co- operate.”
“But you haven’t been doing so. You’ve been making silly remarks, getting in my way, giving me lip, wasting my time when I have urgent things to do. Duke, I don’t want
your cooperation, on your termi^ according to your judgment. Whfli we are in this shelter I want yoor absolute obedience.”
Duke shook his head. “Get M through your head that Fm no longer a child. Dad. My cooperation, yet. But I won’t promise the other.”
Mr. Farnham shook his head sor- rowfully and turned away, “Josephl* “Yes, sir?”
“It’s condition seven.”
“Condition seven, sir?”
“Yes, and getting worse. Be care- ful with the instruments and don*t waste time.”
“Right away, sir!”
“Thank you.” He turned to hii son. “Duke, if you really want to co- operate, you could pick up the pieces of this radio. It’s the same model as the one in reserve. There may be pieces we can use to repair the other one, if it becomes necessary. Will you do that?*'
“Sure, sure. I told you I would cooperate.” Duke got on his knees, started to complete the task he had interrupted.
“Thank you.” His father turned away.
“Mr. Duke! Get your hands up I” Duke looked over his shoulder, saw Joseph by the card table, aiming a Thompson submachine gun at him. He jumped to his feet. “What tht hell!”
“Stay there!” Joseph said. “I’ll shoot.”
“Yes,” agreed Duke’s father, “he doesn’t have the compunctions you thought I had. Joseph, if he moves, shoot him.”
16
IF
‘‘Daddy! What’s going on?”
Mr. Farnham turned to face his daughter. “Get back!”
“But, Daddy — ”
“Shut up. Both of you get into that lower bunk. Karen on the in- side. Mover
Karen moved. Barbara looked wide-eyed at the- automatic her host now held in his hand and got quickly into the lower bunk of the other bay. “Arms around each other,” he said briskly. “Don’t eith- er of you let the other one move.” He went back to the first bay. “Duke.”
“Yes?”
“Lower your hands slowly and un- fasten your trousers. Let them fall but don’t step out of them. Then turn slowly and face the door. Un- fasten the bolts.”
“Dad — ”
“Shut up. Joseph, if he does any- thing but exactly what I told him to, shoot. Try for his legs, but hit him.” Face white, expression dazed, Duke did as he was told: let his trousers fall until he was hobbled, turned and started unbolting the door. His father let him continue until half the bolts were drawn. “Duke. Stop. The next few seconds determine whether you go — or stay. You know the terms.”
Duke barely hesitated. “I accept.” “I must elaborate. You will not only obey me, you will obey Joseph.” ^Joseph?^^
“My second-in-command. I have to have one, Duke; I can’t stay awake all the time. I would gladly
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
17
have had you as deputy — but you would have nothing to do with it. So I trained Joseph. He knows where everything is, how it works, how to repair it. So he^s my deputy. Well? Will you obey him just as cheerfully? No back talk?”
Duke said slowly, “I promise.”
‘‘Good. But a promise made under duress isn’t binding. There is anoth- er commitment always given under duress and nevertheless binding, a point which as a lawyer you will ap- preoiate. I want your parole as a prisoner. Will you give me your parole to abide by the conditions until we leave the shelter? A straight quid-pro-quo; your parole in ex- change for not being forced out- side?”
‘‘You have my parole.”
“Thank you. Throw the bolts and fasten your trousers. Joseph, stow the Tommy gun.”
“Okay, Boss.”
Duke secured the door, secured his pants. As he turned around his father offered him the automatic, butt first. “What’s this for?” Duke asked.
“Suit yourself. If your parole isn’t good, I would rather find it out now.”
Duke took the gun, removed the clip, worked the slide and caught the cartridge from the chamber, put it back int6 the clip and reloaded the gun — handed it back. “My parole is good. Here.”
“Keep it. You were always a headstrong boy, Duke, but you were never a Kar.”
“Okay , , . Boss.” His son put
the pistol in a pocket. “Hot in here.” “And going to get hotter.”
“Eh? How much radiation do you think we’re getting?”
“I don’t mean radiation. Fire storm.” He walked into the space where the bays joined, looked at a thermometer, then at his wrist “Eighty-four and only twenty-three minutes since we were hit. It’ll get worse.”
“How much worse?”
“How would I know, Duke? 1 don’t know how far away the hit was, how many megatons, how wide- spread the fire. I don’t even know whether the house is burning over- head, or was blasted away. Normal temperature in here is about fifty degrees. That doesn’t look good. But there is nothing to do about it. Yes, there’s one thing. Strip down t0 shorts. I shall.”
He went into the other bay. Tha girls were still in the lower bunk, arms around each other, keep- ing quiet. Joseph was on the floor with his back to the wall, the cat in his lap. Karen looked round-eyed as her father approached but she said nothing.
“You kids can get up.” “Thanks,” said Karen. “Pretty warm for snuggling.” Barbara back- ed out and Karen sat up.
“So it is. Did you hear what jmt happened?”
“Some sort of argument,” Karen said cautiously.
“Yes. And it’s the last one. I’m boss and Joseph is my deputy. Un- derstood?”
IS
IF
“Yes, Daddy, ”said Karen.
“Mrs. Wells?”
“Me? Why, of course! It’s your shelter. Pm grateful to be in it — Pm grateful to be alive! And please call me Barbara, Mr. Farnham.”
“Sorry, Hmm. Call me ‘Hugh,* I prefer it to ‘Hubert.’ Duke, every- body — first names from now on. Don’t call me ‘Dad,’ call me ‘Hugh.' Joe, knock off the ‘Mister’ and the ‘Miss.’ Catch?”
“Okay, Boss, if you say so.”
“Make that ‘Okay, Hugh.* Now you girls peel down, panties and bra or such, then get Grace peeled to her skin and turn the light out there. It’s hot, it’s going to get hotter. Joe, strip to your shorts.*' Mr. Farnham took his packet off, started unbutton- ing his shirt.
Joseph said, “Uh, Pm comforta- ble.”
“I wasn’t asking, I was telling you.”
“Uh . . . Boss, Vm not wearing shorts!**
“He’s not,” Karen confirmed. “I rushed him.”
“So?” Hugh looked at his ex- houseboy and chuckled. “Joe, you’re a sissy. I should have made Karen straw boss.”
“Suits me.”
“Get a pair out of stores and you can change in the toilet space. While you’re about it, show Duke where it is. Karen, the same for Barbara. Then we’ll gather for a powwow.”
The powwow started five minutes later. Hugh Farnham was at the table, dealing out bridge hands, as-
sessing them. When they were seat^ ed he said, “Anybody for bridge?”
“Daddy, you’re joking.”
“My name is ‘Hugh.’ I was not joking, a rubber of bridge might quiet your nerves. Put away that cigarette, Duke.”
“Uh . . . sorry.”
“You can smoke tomorrow, 1 think. Tonight I’ve got pure oxygen cracked pretty wide and we are tak- ing in no air. You saw the bottles in the toilet space?” The space be- tween the bays was filled by pres- sure bottles, a water tank, a camp toilet, stores, and a small area where a person might manage a stand-up bath. Air intakes and exhausts, cap- ped off, were there, plus a hand-or- power blower, and scavengers for carbon dioxide and water vapor. This space was reached by an arch- way between the tiers of bunks.
“Oxygen in those? I thought it was air.”
“Couldn’t afford the space penal- ty. So we can’t risk fire, even a cigarette. I opened one inlet for a check. Very hot — heat ‘hot’ as well as making a Geiger counter chatter. Folks, I don’t know how long we’ll be on bottled breathing.’ I figured thirty-six hours for four! people, so it’s nominally twenty-fourj hours for six, but that’s not the pinch. I’m sweating — and so are you. We can take it to about a hundred and twenty. Above that, we’ll have to use oxygen just to cool the place. It might end in a fine balance between heat and suffoca- tion. Or worse.”
“Daddy — Hugh, I mean. Are
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
19
you breaking it gently that we arc going to be baked alive?’’
“You won't be, Karen. I won’t let you be.”
“Well ... I prefer a bullet.” “Nor will you be shot. I have enough sleeping pills to let twenty people die painlessly. But we aren’t here to die. We’ve had vast luck; with a little more we’ll make it. So don’t be morbid.”
4 4 T T ow about the radioactivity?” asked Hugh.
“Can you read an integrating counter?”
“No.”
“Take my word for it that wc are in no danger yet. Now about sleeping. This side, where Grace is, is the girls’ dorm; this other side is ours Only four bunks but that’s okay; one person has to monitor air and heat, and the other one without a bed can keep him awake. How- ever I’m taking the watch tonight and won’t need company; I’ve taken dexedrine.”
“I’ll stand watch.” — “I’ll stay up with you.” — “I’m not sleepy let me stay here — ”
“Slow down!” Hugh said. “Joe, you can’t stand watch now because you have to relieve me when I’m tuckered out. You and I will alter- nate until we‘ are sure Aat the situ- ation is safe.”
Joe shrugged and kept quiet. Duke said, “Then it’s my privilege.”
“Can’t either of you add? Two bunks for women, two for men. What’s left over? We’ll fold this table and the gal left over can sprawl
on the floor here. Joe, break out blankets and put a couple here and a couple in the tank space for me.’* “Right away, Hugh!”
Both girls insisted on standing watch. Hugh shut them off. “Cut for it.”
“But — ”
“Pipe down, Barbara. Ace low, and low girl sleeps on a bunk, the other here on the floor. Duke, do you want a sleeping pill?”
“That’s one habit I don’t have.” “Don’t be an iron man.”
“Well — A rain check?”
“Surely. Joe? Seconal?”
“Well, I’m so relieved that I don’t have to take that quiz tomor- row . . .”
“Glad somebody is happy. All right.”
“I was going to add that I’m pret- ty keyed up. You’re sure you won’t need me?”
“I’m sure. Karen, get one for Joe. You know where?”
“Yes and I’m going to get one for me, since I won the cut. I’m no iron man! And a Miltown on top of it.” “Do that. Sorry, Barbara, you can’t have one; I might have to wake you and have you keep me awake. You can have Miltown. You’ll prob- ably sleep from it.”
“I don’t need it.”
“As you wish. Bed, everybody. It’s midnight and two of you are go- ing on watch in eight hours.”
In a few minutes all were in bed with Barbara where the table had been, all lights out save one in the tank space. Hugh squatted on blan- kets there, playing solitaire — badly.
20
IF
. r 4 gain the floor heaved, again came that terrifying rumble. Kar- en screamed.
Hugh was up at once. This one was not as violent; he was able to •tay on his feet. He hurried into the girls’ dorm. ‘‘Baby! Where are you?" He fumbled, found the light switch.
“Up here, Daddy. Oh, Fm scared! I was just dropping off and it al- most threw me out. Help me down."
He did so; she clung to him, sob- bing. “There, there,” he said, pat- ting her. “You’ve been a brave girl, don’t let it throw you.”
“I’m not brave. Fve been scared silly all along. I just didn’t want it to show.”
“Well . . . Fm scared too. So let’s not show it, huh? Better have an- other pill. And a stiff drink.”
“All right. Both. Fm not going to sleep in that bunk. It’s too hot up there, as well as scary when it shakes.”
“All right. I’ll pull the mattress down.”
Duke and Barbara were sitting on the blanket she had been nap- ping on ; they were looking very solemn. Hugh said, “Where’s Joe? He wasn’t hurt, was he?”
Duke gave a short laugh. “Want to see ‘Sleeping Innocence’? That bottom bunk.”
Hugh found his second-in-com- mand sprawled on his back, snoring, as deeply unconscious as Grace Far oh am . Dr . -Livingstone-I-Presume was curled up on his chest. Hugh came back. “Well, that blast was farther away. Fm glad Joe could deep.”
“It was too damned close to suit me! When are they going to run out of those things?”
“Soon, I hope. Folks, Karen and I have just formed the ‘Fm-scared- too’ club and are about to celebrate with a drink. Any* candidates?”
“Fm a charter member!”
“So am I,” agreed Barbara. “Yes!" Hugh fetched papef cups, and bottles — Scotch, seconal, and Mil- town. “Water, anyone?”
Duke said, “I don’t want anything interfering with the liquor.”
“Water, please,” Barbara an- swered. “It’s so hot.”
“How hot is it, Daddy?”
“Duke, I put the thermometer in the tank room. Go see, will you?” “Sure. And may I use that rain check?”
“Certainly.” Hugh gave Karen an- other seconal capsule, another Mil- town pill, and told Barbara that she must take a Miltown — then took one himself, having decided that dex- edrine had made him edgy. Duke re- turned.
“One hundred and four degrees,” he announced. “I opened the valve another quarter turn. All right?” “Have to open it still wider soon. Here are your pills, Duke.”
“Thanks.” Duke swallowed them, chased them with whisky. “Fm go- ing to sleep on the floor, too. Coolest place in the house.”
“Smart of you. All right, leFs settle down. Give the pills a chance."
Hugh sat with Karen after she bedded down, then gently ex- tracted his hand from hers and re-
FARNHAM'S FREEHOtr
21
turned to the tank room. The tem- perature was up two degrees. He opened the valve on the working tank still wider, listened to it sigh to emptiness, shook his head, got a wrench and shifted the gauge to a full tank. Before he opened it, he attached a hose, led it out into the main room. Then he went back to pretending to play solitaire.
A few minutes later Barbara ap- peared in the doorway. “Fm not sleepy,” she said. ‘‘Could you use some company?”
“You’ve been crying.”
“Does it show? Fm sorry.” “Come sit down. Want to play cards?”
“If you want to. All I want is company.”
“We’ll talk. Would you like an- other drink?”
“Oh, would I! Can you spare it?” “I stocked plenty. Barbara, can you think of a better night to have a drink? But both of us will have to see to it that the other one doesn’t go to sleep.”
“All right. I’ll keep you awake.” They shared a cup, Scotch with water from the tank. It poured out as sweat faster than they drank it. Hugh increased the gas flow again and found that the ceiling was unpleas- antly hot. “Barbara, the house must have burned over us. There is thirty inches of concrete above us and then two feet of dirt.”
“How hot do you suppose it is outside?”
“Couldn’t guess. We must have been close to the fireball.” He felt the ceiling again. “I beefed this thing
up — roof, walls, and floor are all one steel-reinforced box. It was none too much. We may have trouble get- ting the doors open. All this heat — And probably warped by concus- sion.”
She said quietly, “Are we trapped?”
“No, no. Under these bottles is a hatch to a tunnel. Thirty-inch cul- vert with concrete around it. Leads to the gully back of the garden. We can break out — crowbars and a hydraulic jack — even if the end is crushed in and covered with crater glass. Fm not worried about that; I’m worried about how long we can stay inside . . . and whether it will be safe when we leave.”
“How bad is the radioactivity?”
He hesitated. “Barbara, would it mean anything to you? Know any- thing about radiation?”
“Enough. Fm majoring — I was majoring — in botany; I’ve used isotopes in genetics experiments. I can stand bad news, Hugh, but not knowing — well, that’s why I was crying.”
“Mmm. The situation is worse than I told Duke.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Integrat- ing counter back of the bottles. Go look.”
She went to it, stayed several min- utes. When she came back, she sat down without speaking. “Well?” he asked.
“Could I have another drink?”
“Certainly.” He mixed it.
She sipped it, then said quietly, “If the slope doesn’t change, we’ll hit the red line by morning.” she
22
IF
frowned. *^But that marks a con- servative limit. If I remember the figures, we probably won’t start vomiting for at least another day.”
And the curve should I level off soon. That’s why heat worries me more than radia- tion.” He looked at the thermom- eter, cracked the valve still wider. “I’ve been running the water-vapor getter on battery; I don’t think we should crank the blower in this heat. I’m not going to worry about Cee- Oh-Two until we start to pant.” “Seems reasonable.”
“Let’s forget the hazards. Any- tiling you’d like to talk about? Your- self?”
“Little to tell, Hugh. Female, white, twenty-five years old. Back in school, or was, after a bad marriage. A brother in the Air Force — so pos- sibly he’s all right. My parents were in Acapulco, so perhaps they are, too. No pets, thank God — and I was so pleased that Joe saved his cat. No regrets, Hugh, and not afraid . . . not really. Just . . . sad.” She sniffed. “It was a pretty nice world, even if 1 did crumb up my marriage.”
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying; Those drops are sweat.”
“Yes. Surely.”
“They are. It’s terribly hot.” Sud- denly she reached both hands be- hind her ribs. “Do you mind? If I take this off? It’s smothering me.” “Go ahead. Child, if you can get comfortable — or less uncomfort- able — do so. Skin doesn’t shock
me.” He stood up, went behind the oxygen bottles, and looked at the record of radiation. Having done so, he checked the thermometer and increased the flow of oxygen.
As he sat down he remarked, “I might as well have stored air instead of oxygen, then we could smoke. But I did not expect to use it for cooling.” He ignored .the fact that she had accepted his invitation to be comfortable. He added, “I was worried about heating the place. I tried to design a stove to use con- taminated air safely. Possible. But difficult.”
“I think you did amazingly well. This is the only shelter I’ve ever heard of with stored air. You’re a scientist. Aren’t you?”
“Me? Heavens, no. High school only. What little I know I picked up here and there. Some in the Navy, metal work and correspond- ence courses. Then I worked for a public futility and learned something about construction and pipe lines. Then I became a contractor.” He smiled. “No Barbara, I’m a ‘general specialist’. The Elephant ChilcPs ’satiable curiosity.’ Like Dr.-Living- stone-I-Presume.”
“How did a cat get a name like that?”
“Karen. Because he’s a great ex- plorer. That cat can get into any- thing. Do you like cats?”
“I don’t know much about them. But Dr. Livingstone is a beauty.”
“So he is but I like all cats. You don’t own a cat, he is a free citizen. Take dogs; dogs are friendly and fun and loyal. But slaves. Not their
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
23
fault, they’ve been bred for it. But slavery makes me queasy, even in animals.”
He frowned. “Barbara, I’m not as sad over what has happened as you are. It might be good for us. I don’t mean us six; I mean our country.”
She looked very startled. “How?” “Well — It’s hard to take the long view when you are crouching m a shelter and wondering how long you can hold out. But — Barbara, I’ve wonied for years about our country. It seems to me that we have been breeding slaves — and I believe in freedom. This war may have turn- ed the tide. This may be the first war in history which kills the stupid rather than the bright and able — where is makes any distinction.” “How do you figure that, Hugh?” “Well, wars have always been hardest on the best young men. This time the boys in service are as safe or safer than civilians. And of civ- ilians those who used their heads and made preparations stand a far better chance. Not every case, but on the average, and that will im- prove the breed. When it’s over, things will be tough, and that wifl improve the breed still more. For years the surest way of surviving has been to be utterly worthless and breed a lot of worthless kids. All standard genetics. But it seems that will change.”
She nodded. “That’s cruel.”
“It is cruel. But no government yet has been able to repeal natural laws, though they keep trying.”
She shivered in spite of the heat. “1 suppose you’re right. No, 1 know
you’re right. But I could face it more cheerfully if I thought there was go- ing to be any country left. Killing the poorest third is good genetics . . . but there is nothing good about killing them all.”
“Mmm, yes. I hate to think about it. But I did think about it. Barbara, I didn’t stockpile oxygen just against radiation and fire storm. I had in mind worse things.”
“Worse? How?”
“All the talk about the horrors of World War Three has been about atomic weapons — fallout, hun- dred megaton bombs, neutron bombs. The disarmament talks and the pacifist parades have all been about the Bomb, the Bomb, the Bomb — as if A-weapons were the only thing that could kill. This may not be just an A-weapon war; more
likely it is an ABC war atomic,
biological, and chemical.” He hooked a thumb at the tanks. “That’s why I stocked that bottled breathing. Against nerve gas. Aerosols. Viruses. God knows what. The communists won’t smash this country if they can kill us without destroying our wealth. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that bombs had been used only OQ military targets like the anti- missile base here, but that New York and Detroit and such received nerve gas. Or a 24-hour plague with 80% mortality. The horrid possibilities are endless. The air outside could be loaded with death that a counter won’t detect and a filter can’t stop.” He smiled grimly. “Sorry. You had better go back to bed.”
“I’m miserable anyway and don’t Wiot to be alone. May 1 stay?”
24
IF
“Certainly. I’m happier with you present no matter how gloomy I sound.”
“What you’ve been saying isn’t nearly as gloomy as the thoughts I have alone. I wish we knew what was going on outside!” She added, “I wish we had a periscope.”
“We do have,”
“Huh? WhereT
“Did have. Sorry. That pipe over there. I tried to raise it but it won’t budge. However — Barbie, I tromped on Duke for demanding that I break out our spare radio before the at- tack was over. But maybe it’s over. What do you think?”
“Me? How would I know?” “You know as much as I do. That first missile was intended to take out the MAMMA base; they wouldn’t bother with us otherwise. If they are spotting from orbiting space- ships, then that second one was an- other try at the same target. The timing fits, time of flight from Kam- chatka is about half an hour and the second hit about forty-five minutes after the first. That one was prob- ably a bull’s-eye — and they know it, because more than an hour has passed and no third missile. That means they are through with us; Logical?” ■
“Sounds logical to me.”
“It’s crumby logic, my dear. Not enough data. Perhaps both missiles failed to knock out MAMMA, and MAMMA is now knocking out any- thing they throw. Perhaps the Rus- skis have run out of missiles. Per- haps the third round will be deliv- ered by bomber. We don’t know. But Fm itching to find out.”
44T would certainly like to hear A some news.”
“We’ll try. If it’s good news, we’ll wake the others.” Hugh Farnham dug into the corner, came out with a box, unpacked a radio. “Doesn’t have a scratch. Let’s try it without an antenna.
“Nothing but static,” he announ- ced shortly. “Not surprised. Al- though its mate could pull in local stations without an aerial. Now we’ll hook to the fixed antenna. Wait here.”
He returned shortly. “No soap. Stands to reason that there isn’t any- thing left of the fixed antenna. ^ we’ll try the emergency one.”
Hugh took a wrench and removed a cap from an inch pipe that stuck down through the ceiling. He tested the opening with a radiation counter. “A little more count.” He got two steel rods, each five feet long; with one he probed the pipe. “Doesn’t go up as far as it should. The tc\p of this pipe was buried just below ground. Trouble.” He screwed the second rod into the first.
“Now comes the touchy part. Stand back, there may be debris — hot both ways — spilling down.” “It’ll get on you.”
“On my hands, maybe. I’ll scrub afterwards. You can go over me with a Geiger counter.” He tapped with a sledge on the bottom of the joined rods. Up they went about eighteen inches. “Something solid. I’ll have to bang it.”
Many blows later the rod was seated into the pipe. “It felt,” he said, as he stopped to scrub his hands, “as if we passed into open
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
25
air the last foot or so. But it should have stuck out five feet above ground. Rubble, I suppose. What’s left of our home. Want to use the counter on me?”
“Hugh, you say that as casually as ‘What’s left of yesterday’s milk.’ ” He shrugged. “Barbie girl, I was broke when 1 joined the Navy, Pve been flat busted since; I will not waste tears over a roof and some plumbing. Get any count?”
“You’re clean.”
“Check the floor under the pipe.” There were hot spots on the floor; Hugh wiped them with damp Kleenex, disposed of it in a metal waste can. She checked his hands afterwards, and the spots on the floor.
“Well, that used up a gallon of water; this radio had better work.” He clipped the antenna lead to the rod, switched it on.
Ten minutes later they admitted fliat they were getting nothing. Noise — static all over the dial — but no signal. He sighed. “I’m not surprised. I don’t know what ioniza- tion does to radio waves, but that must be a sorcerer’s brew of hot botopes over our heads: I had hoped wc could get Salt Lake City.”
“Not Denver?”
“No. Denver had an ICBM base. rH leave the gain up; maybe we’ll bear something.^’
“Don’t you want to save the bat- tery?”
“Not really. Let’s sit down and re- cite limericks.” He looked at the Integrating counter, whistled softly then checked the thermometer. “I’ll five our sleeping beauties a little
more relief from the beat. How well are you standing it. Barbie?”
“Truthfully, I had forgotten it. The sweat pours off and that’s that.” “Me, too.”
“Well, don’t use more oxygen on my account. How many bottles are left?”
“Not many.”
“How many?”
“Less than half. Don’t fret. I’ll bet you five hundred thousand dol- lars — fifty cents in the new cur- rency — that you can’t recite a lim- erick I don’t know.”
“Clean, or dirty?”
“Are there clean ones?”
“Okay. ‘A playful young fellow named Scott — ’ ”
The limerick session was a flop.
Hugh accused her of having a clean mind. She answered, “Not really, Hugh. But my mind isn’t working.”
“I’m not at my sharpest. Another drink?”
“Yes. With water, please, I sweat so; I’m dry. Hugh?”
“Yes, Barbie?”
“We’re going to die. Aren’t we?” “Yes.”
“I thought so. Before morning?” “Oh, no! I feel sure we can live till noon. If we want to.”
“I see. Hugh, would you mind if I moved over by you? Would you put your arm around me? Or is it too hot?”
“Any time I’m too hot to put my arm around a girl I’ll know I’m dead and in hell.”
“Thanks.”
“Room enough?**
26
TF
**Plenty,” said Barbara, smiling. “You’re a little girl.”
“I weigh a hundred and thirty- two pounds and I’m five feet eight and that’s not little.”
“You’re a little girl. Put the cup aside. Tilt your face up.”
“Mmmm — Again. Please, again.” “A greedy little girl.”
“Yes. Very greedy. Thank you, Hugh.”
“All right?”
“Wonderfully all right. And kiss me, too. Please?”
“Barbara, Barbara!”
“Hugh darling! I love you. Oh!” “I love you, Barbara.”
“Yes. Yes! Oh, please! NowV* Some minutes later, the biggest slam of all hit them.
Ill
The light went out, Grace Farn- ham screamed, and Dr. Livings- tone-I-Presume wailed. Barbara was knocked silly and came to heaped over a steel bottle and disoriented by blackne.ss and no floors or walls.
She groped around, found a leg, found Hugh attached to it. He was limp. She felt for his heart beat, could not find’ it.
She shouted: “Hello! Hello! Any- body!”
Duke answered,- “Barbara?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m all right, Hugh is hurt. I think he’s dead.”
“Take it easy. When I find my trousers. I’ll light a match — if I can get off my shoulders. I’m standing on them.”
“Hubert! Hubertr “Yes, Mother! Wait.” Grace con- tinued to scream; Duke alternated reassurances and cursing the dark- ness. Barbara felt around, slipped on loose oxygen bottles, hurt her shiii« and found a flat surface. She could not tell what it was; it was canted steeply.
Duke called out, “Got ’em!” A match flared up, torch bright in oxy- gen-rich air.
Joe’s voice said, “Better put that out. Fire hazard.” A flashlight beam cut the gloom.
Barbara called out, “Joe! Help me with Hugh!”
“Got to see about lights.”
“He may be dying.”
“Can’t do a thing without light.” Barbara shut up, tried again to find heart beat — found it and clutched Hugh’s head, sobbing.
Lights came on in the men’s bay; enough trickled in that Barbara could make out her surroundings. The floor sloped about thirty de- grees; she, Hugh, steel bottles, water tank, and other gear were jumbled in the lower corner. The tank had sprung a leak and was flooding the toilet space. She saw that, had the tilt been the other way, she and Hugh would have been buried under steel and water.
Minutes later Duke and Joe joined her, letting themselves down through the door. Joe carried a camp lamp. Duke said to Joe, “How are we going to move him?”
“We don’t. It might be his spine.” “Still have to move him.”
“We don’t move him,” Joe said firmly. “Barbara, have you moved him?”
FARMUAM'S FREEHOLD
27
“I took his head in my lap.” “Well, don’t move him any more.” Joe looked his patient over, touch- ing him gently. “I can’t see any gross injuries,” he decided. “Barbara, if you can stay put, we’ll wait until he comes to. Then I can check his eyes for concussion, see if he can wiggle his toes, things like that.”
“I’ll hold still. Anybody else hurt?” “Not to speak of,” Duke assured her. “Joe thinks he’s cracked some ribs and I wrenched a shoulder. Mother just got rolled into the cor- ner of her bunk. Sis is soothing her. Sis is okay — a lump on her head where a can konked her. Are you all right?”
“Just bruises. Hugh and I were playing double solitaire and trying to keep cool when it hit.” She wondered how long the lie would stand up. Duke had no more on than she did and didn’t seem troubled by it; Joe was dressed in underwear shorts. She added, “The cat? Is he all right?” “Dr.-Livingstone-I-Presume,” Joe answered seriously, “escaped injury. But he is vexed that his sand box was dumped over. He’s cleaning himself and criticizing.”
“Fm.^lad he wasn’t hurt.”
“Nofice anything about this blast?”
“What, Joe? It was the hardest of the three. Much the hardest.”
“Yes. But no rumbling. Just one great, big, grand slam, then . . . noth- ing.”.
“What does that indicate?”
“I don’t know. Barbara, can you stay here and not move? I want to get more lights on, check the dam- age, and see what to do about it.” “I won’t move.” Hugh seemed to
be breathing easily. In the silenoi she could hear his heart beat. She had nothing to be unhappy about
Karen joined her, carrying a flashlight and moving careful- ly on the slant. “How’s Daddy?” “No change.”
“Knocked cold, I guess. So was I. You okay?” She played the flash light over Barbara.
“Not hurt.”
“Well! I’m glad you’re in uniform, too. I can’t find my pants. Joe ig- nores it so carefully, it’s painful. Is that boy square!”
“I don’t know where my clothes are.”
“Joe has the only pants among us. What happened to you? Were you asleep?”
“No. I was here. We were talk- ing.”
“Hmn — Further deponent say- eth not. I’ll keep your grisly secret. Mother won’t know; I gave her an- other hypo.”
“Aren’t you jumping at conclu- sions?”
“My favorite exercise. I hope my nasty suspicions are correct. I wish I had had something better to do than sleep last night. Since it’s probably our last night.” She leaned over and kissed Barbara. “I like you.”
“Thanks, Karen. Me, too. You.” Let’s hold a funeral and preach about what nice guys we are. You made my Daddy happy when you had the guts to bid that slam. If you made him happier still, I’m in favor of it.” She straightened up. “ ’Bye. I’ll go sort groceries. If Daddy wakes up, yell.” She left.
2<5
IF
“Barbara,” said Hugh softly. “Yes, Hugh? Yes!”
“Keep your voice down. I heard what my daughter said.”
“You did?”
“Yes. She’s a gentleman. Barbara I love you. I may not have another chance to say so.”
“I love you.”
“Darling.”
“Shall I call the others?
“Shortly. Are you comfortable?” “Oh, very!”
“Then let me rest a bit. I feel woozy.”
“As long as you like. Uh, can you wiggle your toes? Do you hurt any place?”
“I hurt lots of places, but not too much. Let me see — Yes, 1 can move everything. All right, call Joe.” “No hurry.”
“Better call him. Work to do.” Shortly Mr. Farnham was back in charge. Joe required him to move himself — a mass of bruises but no break, sprain, nor concussion. It seemed to Barbara that Hugh had landed on the bottles and that she had landed on him. She did not dis- cuss her theory.
Hugh’s first act was to bind Joe’s ribs with elastic bandage. Joe gasped as it tightened but seemed more comfortable with it. The lump on Karen’s head was inspected; Hugh decided that there was something he could do for it.
“Will somebody fetch the ther- mometer?” he asked. “Duke?”
“It’s busted.”
“It’s a bimetal job. Shockproof.” “I looked for it,” Duke explained, “while you were doctoring. Seems cooler to me. While it may be shock-
proof, it couldn’t stand being mashed between two tanks:”
“Oh. Well, it’s no big loss.” “Dad? Wouldn’t this be a good time to try the spare radio?”
“I suppose so, but — I hate to tell you, Duke, but you’ll probably find it smashed, too. We tried it earlier. No results.” He glanced at his wrist. “An hour and a half ago. At two a.m. Has anyone else the time?” Duke’s watch agreed.
“We seem to be in fair shape,” Hugh decided, “except for water. There are some plastic jugs of water but we need to salvage the tank wa- ter; we may have to drink it. With Halazone tablets. Joe, we need uten- sils of any sort, and everybody bail. Keep it as clean as you can.” He added. “When Joe can spare you, Karen, scrounge some breakfast. We’ve got to eat, even if this is Armageddon.”
“And Armageddon sick of it,” Karen offered.
Her father winced. “Baby girl, you will write on the black- board one thousand times: T will not make bad puns before breakfast. ’ ” “I thought it was pretty good, Hugh.”
“Don’t encourage her, Barbara. All right, get with it.”
Karen returned shortly, carrying Dr. Livingstone. “I wasn’t much help,” she announced, “Because somebody has to hang onto this damn cat. He wants to help.” ‘*Kalhlerrrrtr
“You did so! Fm going to entice him with sardines and get breakfast. What do you want. Daddy Hugh Boss? Crepes Suzettes?”
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
29
“Yes. That sounds very good.” “What you’ll get k Spam and crackers.”
“All right. How’s the bailing go- ing?”
“Daddy, I won’t drink that water even with Halazone.” She made a face. “You know where it wound •p.
“We may have to drink it.” “Well ... if you cut it with whis- ky — ”
“Mmm. Every case of liquor is leaking. The two I’ve opened each have one fifth, unbroken.”
“Daddy, you’ve ruined breakfast.” “The question is, do I ration it evenly? Or save it all for Grace?” “Oh.” Karen’s features screwed up m painful decision. “She can have my share. But the others shouldn’t be deprived just because Gracie has a yen.”
“Karen, at this stage it’s not a yen. ki a way, for her it’s medicine.” “Yeah, sure. And diamond brace- lets and sable coats are medicine for
me.
“Baby, there’s no point in blam- ing her. When you get to be my
age — ”
“Daddy, I don’t expect to get to be your age — and we both know it. If we’ve got even two fifths of li- quor, it’s probably enough. Why don’t you just serve it to whoever needs it?”
The lines in his face got deeper. “Karen, I haven’t given up. It’s dis- tinctly cooler. We may get out of this yet.”
“Well — I guess that’s the proper attitude. Give me a kiss, Daddy.”
He did. “Now pipe down and get to work.”
Five of diem gathered for breakfast, sitting on the floor as chairs would not stand up. Mii. Famham was still lethargic frmn heavy sedation. The others shared canned meat, crackers, cold Nes- cafe, canned peaches and warm comradeship. They were dressed, the men in shorts, Karen in shorts and halter, and Barbara in a muu muu belonging to Karen. Her underwear had been salvaged but was soaked and the air was too moist to dry it Hugh announced. “Time for a conference. Suggestions are wd- come.” He looked at his son.
“One item, Dad — Hugh,” Duke answered. “The backhouse took a beating. I patched it and rigged a platform out of boards that had se- cured the air bottles. It’s shaky.” “Good job, Duke. But with six of us I think we should rig a second one. Can we manage that, Joe?” “Yes, we could. But . . .”
“But what?”
“Do you know how much oxy is left?”
“I do. We must shift to blower and filter soon. And there is not a working radiation counter left. So we won’t know what we’ll be letting in. However we’ve got to breathe.” “But did you look at the blow- er?”
“It looked all right.”
“It’s not. I don’t think I can re- pair it.”
Mr. Farnham sighed. “I’ve had a spare on order for six months. Well, rU look at it, too. And you, Duke; maybe one of us can fix it.” “Okay.”
“Let’s assume we can’t repair it Then we use the oxygen as sparing-
30
IF
ly as possible. After that we can get along, for a while, on the air inside. But there will come a time when we have to open the door.”
Nobody said anything. “Smile, Bomebody!” Hugh went on. “We aren’t licked. We’ll rig dust filters out of sheets in the door — better than nothing. We still have one radio — the one you mistook for a hearing aid, Barbara. I wrapped it and put it away; it wasn’t hurt. Til go outside and put up an antenna and we can listen to it down here; it could save us. We’ll rig a flagpole, from the sides of a bunk perhaps, and fly a flag. A hunting shirt. No, the Amer- ican flag; I’ve got one. If we don’t make it, we’ll go down with our colors flying!”
Karen started clapping. “Don’t scoff, Karen.”
“I’m not scoffing. Daddy! I’m cry ing. The rockets red glare — the bombs bursting in air — gave proof through the night — that our flag was still — ’ ” Her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands.
Barbara put an arm around her. Hugh Farnham went on as if nothing had happened. “But we won’t go down. Soon they will search this area for survivors. They’ll see our flag and take us out — helicopter, probably.
“So our business is to be alive when they come.” He stopped to think. “No unnecessary work, no ex- ercise. Sleeping pills for everybody and try to sleep twelve hours a day and lie down all the time; it will make the air last as long as possible. The only work is to repair that blow- er and we’ll knock that off if we
can’t fix it. Let’s see — Water must be rationed. Duke, you are water marshal. See how much pure water there is; work out a schedule to stretch it. There is a one ounce glass with the medicines; use it to dispense water. That’s all, I guess: Repair the blower, minimum exercise, max- imum sleep, rationed water, Oh, yes! Sweat is wasteful. It’s still hot and Barbara, you’ve sweat right through that sack. Take it off.”
“May I leave the room?” “Certainly.” She left, walking care- fully on the steep floor, went into the tank room, and returned wear- ing her soaked underwear. “That’s better,” he approved. “Now — ” “Hubert! Hubert! Where are you? I’m thirsty.”
“Duke, give her one ounce. Charge it to her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t forget that the cat has to have water.
“The dirty water, maybe?” “Humm. We won’t die through playing fair with our guest. Let’s keep our pride.”
“He's been drinking the dirty wa- ter.”
“Well — You boss it. Sugges- tions, anyone? Joe does it suit you?” “Well — No, sir.”
“So?”
“No exercise, least oxygen used, makes sense. But when it comes time to open the door, where are we?”
“We take our chances.”
“I mean, can we? Short on air, panting, thirsty, maybe sick — I’d like to be certain that anyone, Kar- en, say, with a broken arm, can get that door open.”
FARKHAM'S FREEHOLD
31
“I see,” said Hugh, nodding.
“I’d like to try all three doors. Fd like to leave the armor door open. A girl can’t handle that crank. I vol- unteer to try the upper door.”
“Sorry, it’s my privilege. I go along with the rest. That’s why I asked for suggestions. I’m tired, Joe; my mind is fuzzy.”
“And if the doors are blocked? Probably rubble against the upper door — ”
“We have the jack.”
“Well, if we can’t use the doors, we should make sure of the escape tunnel. Duke’s shoulder isn’t so good. My ribs are sore but I can work — today. Tomorrow Duke and I will be stiff and twice as sore. There are those steel bottles cluttering the hatch and plunder stored in the hole. Takes work. Boss, I say we’ve got to be sure of our escape — while we’re still in pretty good shape.”
“I hate to order heavy work. But you’ve convinced me.” Hugh stood up, suppressing a groan. “Let’s get busy.”
“Fve got one more suggestion.” “So?”
“You ought to sack in. You haven’t been to bed at all and you got banged up pretty hard.”
“Fm okay. Duke has a bad shoul- der, you’ve got cracked ribs. And there’s heavy work to be done.”
“I plan to use block and tackle to skid those bottles aside. Barbara can help. She’s husky, for a girl.”
“Certainly I can,” agreed Barbara. “I’m bigger than Joe is. Excuse me, Joe.”
“No argument. Boss. Hugh. I don’t like to emphasize it but / thought of this. You admit you’re
tired. Not surprising, you’ve been on the go twenty-four hours. Do you mind my saying that I would feel more confident you could get us through if you would rest?”
Hugh grinned. “Ganging up on me. All right, I’ll take a nap.”
A few minutes later he was in the bottom bunk in the men’s dormitory, his feet braced against the foot board. He closed his eyes and was asleep before he could get his wor- ries organized.
Duke and Joe found that five of the bolts of the inned door were stuck. “We’ll let them be,” Joe decided. “We can always drift them back with a sledge hammer. Let’s crank back the armor door.”
The armor door, beyond the bolt- ed door, was intended to withstand as much blast as the walls. It was cranked into place, or out, by a rack and gear driven, by a long crank.
Joe could not budge it. Duke, heavier by forty pounds, put his weight on it — no results. Then they leaned on it together.
“Frozen.”
“Yeah.”
“Joe you mentioned a sledge ham- mer.”
The young Negro frowned. “Duke, I would rather your father tried that. We could break the crank. Or a tooth on the rack.”
“The trouble is, we’re trying to crang a ton or so of door up hill when it was meant to move on the level.”
“Yes. But this door always has been pesky.”
“What do we do?”
“We get at the escape tunnel.”
32
IF
A block and tackle was fastened to a hook in the ceiling; the giant bottles were hauled out of the jum- ble and stacked, with Barbara and Karen heaving on the line and the men guiding them and then bracing them so that the stack could not roll. When the middle of the floor was clear they were able to get at the manhole cover to the tunnel. It was the massive, heavey-traffic sort and the hook in the celling
It came up, creaking. It swung suddenly because of the 30° out-of- plumb of everything, taking a nick out of Duke’s shin and an oath out of Duke.
The hole was packed with provis- ions. The girls dug them out, Karen, being smaller, going down inside as they got deeper and Barbara stock- ing the stuff.
Karen stuck her head up. “Hey! Water boss! There’s canned water here.”
“WeU, goody for me!”
Joe said, ‘T had forgotten that This hatch hasn’t been opened since the shelter was stocked.”
‘Toe shall I knock out the braces?” ^
‘T’U get ’em. You clear out the supplies. Duke, this isn’t armored the way the door is. Those braces hold a piece of boiled plate against the opening, with the supplies behind it and the manhole cover holding it all down. Inside the tunnel, at ten-foot intervals, are walls of sand bags, and the mouth has dirt over it. Your fa- ther said the idea was to cofferdam a blast. Let it in, slow it down, a piece at a time.”
“We’ll find those sand bags jammed against that boiler plate.” “If so, we’ll dig ’em out.”
“Why didn’t he use real armor?” “He thought this was safer. You saw what happened to the doors. I would hate to have to pry loose a steel barrier in that tunnel.”
“I see. Joe, I’m sorry I ever called this place a ‘hole in the ground.’ ” “Well, it isn’t. It’s a machine — a survival machine.”
“I’m through,” Karen announced. “Some gentleman help me up. Or you, Duke.”
“I’ll put the lid on with you un- der it.” Duke helped his sister to climb out.
Joe climbed down, flinching at the strain on his ribs. Dr. Liv- ingstone had been superintending. Now he followed his friend into the
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
33
ihole, using Joe’s shoulders as a land- ing.
“Duke, if you’ll hand me that sledge — Slay out of the way, Doc. Get your tail down.”
“Want me to take him?” asked Karen.
“No, he likes to be in on things. Somebody hold the light.” The braces were removed and piled on the floor above.
“Duke, I need the tackle now. I don’t want to hoist the plate. Just take its weight so I can swing it back. It’s heavy.”
“Here it comes.”
“That’s good. Doc! Darn you. Doc! Get out from under my feet! Just a steady strain, Duke. Some body hand me the flashlight. I’ll swing her back and have a look.” “And get a face full of isotopes.” “Have to chance it. A touch more — That’s got her, she’s swinging free.”
Then Joe didn’t say anything. At last Duke said, “What do you see?” “I’m not sure. Let me swing it back, and hand me one brace.” “Right over your head. Joe, what do you see?”
The Negro was swinging the plate back when suddenly he grunted. “Doc! Doc, come back here! That little scamp! Between my legs and into the tunnel. Doc.'”
“He can’t get far.”
“Well — Karen, will you go wake your father?”
“Damn it, Joe! What do you see?*' “Duke, I don’t know. That’s why I need Hugh.”
“I’m coming down.”
“There isn’t room. I’m coming up, so Hugh can go down.”
Hugh arrived as Joe scrambled out. “Joe, what do you have?” “Hugh, look for yourself.”
“Well — I should have built a lad- der for this. Give me a hand.” Hugh went down, removed the brace, swung back the plate.
He stared even longer than Joe had, then called up. “Duke! Let’s heave this plate out.”
“What is it. Dad?”
“Get the plate out, then you can come down.” It was hoisted out; fa- ther and son exchanged places. Duke stared down the tunnel. “That’s enough, Duke. Here’s a hand,” said Hugh extending his arm.
Duke rejoined them; his father said, “What do you think?”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Daddy,” Karen said tensely, “somebody is going to talk, or I’m going to wrap this sledge hammer right around somebody’s thick skuU.”
“Yes, baby. Uh, there’s room for you girls to go down together.” Barbara was handed down by Duke and Hugh, she helped Karen down over her. Both girls scrunched down and looked.
Karen said softly. “I’ll be gol- damed!” She started crawling into the tunnel.
Hugh called out, “Baby! Come back!” Karen did not answer. He added, “Barbara, tell me what you see.”
“I see,” Barbara said slowly, “a beautiful wooded hillside, green trees, bushes, and a lovely sunny day.”
“That’s what we saw.”
“But it’s impossible,”
“Yes.”
34
IF
IV
Hugh turned to his deputy “Joe, Pm going out. Get me a forty-five and a belt. I shouldn't have let those girls go out unarmed.” He eased himself down the hole. “You two guard the place.”
His son said, “Against what? There’s nothing to guard in here.” His father hesitated. “I don’t know. Just a spooky feeling. All right, cpme along. But arm yourself. Joe!”
“Coming!”
“Joe, arm Duke and yourself. Then wait until we get outside. If we don’t come back right away, use your judgment This situation I hadn’t anticipated. It just can't be,** “But it is.”
“So it is, Duke.” Hugh buckled on the pistol, dropped to his knees. Framed in the tunnel’s mouth was
still the vision of lush greenness where there should have been blast- ed countryside and crater glass. He started to crawl.
He stood up and moved away from the mouth, then looked around.
“Daddy! Isn’t this lovely!**
Karen was below him oh a slope that ran down to a stream across it the land rose and Was covered with trees. On this side was a semi-clear- ing. The sky was blue, sunlight warm and bright, and there was no sign of war’s devastation, nor any sign of man — not a building, a road, a path, no contrails in the sky. It was wilderness, and there was nothing that he recognized.
“Daddy. I’m going down to the creek.”
“Come here! Where’s Barbara?”
“Up here, Hugh.” He turned and saw her up the slope, above the shel- ter. “I’m trying to figure out what happened. What do you think?”
The shelter sat cocked on the slope, a huge square monolith. Dirt clung to it save where the tunnel had cracked off and a jagged place where the stair well had been. The armor door was exposed just above him.
“I don’t think,” he admitted.
Duke emerged, dragging a rifle. He stood up, looked around, and said nothing.
Barbra and Karen joined them. Dr. - Livingston - I - Presume came bounding up to tag Hugh on the ankle and dash away. Obviously the Persian gave the place full approval; it was just right for cats.
Duke said, ‘T give up. Tell me.”
Hugh did not answer. Karen said,
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
35
‘•Daddy, why can’t I go down to the creek? I’m going to take a bath. I stink.”
“It won’t hurt you to stink. I’m confused, I don’t want to be con- fused still more by worrying about your drowning — ”
“It’s shallow.”
“ — or eaten by a bear or falling in quicksand. You girls go inside, arm yourselves, and then come out if you want to. But stick close and keep your eyes peeled. Tell Joe to come out.”
“Yes, sir.” The girls went.
“What do you think, Duke?” “Well'. . . I reserve my opinion.” “If you have one, it’s more than I have. Duke, I’m stonkered. I planned for all sorts of things. This wasn’t on the list. If you have opin- ions, for God’s sake spill them.” “Well — This looks like mountain oountry in Central America. Of course that’s impossible.”
“No point in worrying about whether it’s possible. Suppose it was Central America. What would you watch for?”
“Let me see. Might be cougars. Snakes certainly, Tarantulas and •corpions. Malaria mosquitoes. You mentioned bears.”
“I meant bears as a symbol. We’re firing to have to watch everything, every minute, until we know what we’re up against.”
oe came out carrying a rifle.
He kept quiet and looked •round. Duke said, “We won’t itarve. Off to the left down by the ■Iream.”
Hugh looked. A dappled fawn, hardly waist high, was staring at
96
them, apparently unafraid. Duke said, “Sh^ 1 drop it?” He raised the rifle.
“No. Unless you are dead set on fresh meat.”
“All right. Pretty thing, isn’t it?” “Very. But it’s no North Ameri- can deer I ever saw. Duke? Where are we? And how did we get here?” Duke gave a lopsided grin. “Dad, you appointed yourself Fuehrer. I’m not supposed to think.”
“Oh, rats!”
“Anyhow, I don’t know. Maybe the Russkis developed a hallucin- ation bomb.”
“But would we all see the same thing?”
“No opinion. But if I had shot that deer. I’ll bet we could have eat- en it.”
“I think so, too. Joe? Ideas, opin- ions, suggestions?”
Joe scratched his head. “Mighty pretty country. But I’m a city boy.” “One thing you can do, Hugh.” “What, Duke?”
“Your little radio. Try it.”
“Good idea.” Hugh crawled in- side, caught Karen about to climb down, sent her baciv ^Dr it. While he waited, he wondered what he had that was suitable for a ladder? Chinning themselves in a six-foot manhole was tedious.
The radio picked up static but nothing else. Hugh switched it off. “We’ll try it tonight. I’ve gotten Mexico with it at night, even Can- ada.” He frowned. “Something ought to be on the air. Unless they smeared us completely.”
“Dad, you aren’t thinking straight.”
“How, Duke?”
IF
“This area did not get smeared.** “That’s why I can’t understand a radio silence.”
“Yet Mountain Springs really caught it. Ergo, we aren’t in Moun- tain Springs.”
“Who said we were?” Karen an- swered. “There’s nothing like this in Mountain Springs. Nor the whole state.”
Hugh frowned. “I guess that’s ob- vious.” He looked at the shelter, gross, huge, massive. “But where are we?”
“Don’t you read comic books. Daddy? We’re on another planet.” “Don’t joke, baby girl. I’m wor- ried.”
“1 wasn’t joking. There is nothing like this within a thousand miles of home — yet here we are. Might as well be another planet. The one we had was getting used up.**
“Hugh,” Joe said, “it sounds silly. But I agree with Karen.”
“Why, Joe?”
“Well, we’re someplace, .What happens when an H-bomb explodes dead on you?”
“You’re vaporized.”
“I don’t feel vaporized. And I can’t see that big hunk of concrete sailing a thousand miles or so, and crashing down with nothing to show for it but cracked ribs and a hurt shoulder. But Karen’s idea — ” He shrugged. “Call it the fourth dimen- sion. That last big one nudged us through the fourth dimension.” Barbara said, “Karen, I don’t see how this can be anything but Earth.” “Why? Spoilsport.”
“Well — ” Barbara chucked a peb- ble at a tree. “That’s a eucalyptus, and an acacia beyond it. Not at all
like Mountain Springs but a normal grouping of tropical and subtropical flora. Unless your ‘new planet* evolved plants just like Earth, this has to be Earth.”
“Hubert! Hubert! Where are you? I can’t find you!” Grace Fmham’t voice echoed out the Uumd.
Hugh ducked into the tunnel. “Coming!”
They ate lunch under a tree a little distance from the shelter. Hugh decided that the tunnel had been buried so deeply that the chance of its mouth being more ra- dioactive than the interior was neg- ligible. As for the roof, he was not certain. So he placed a dosimeter (the only sort of radiation instru- ment that had come through the pummeling) on top of the shelter to compare it later with one inside. He was relieved to see that the dosime- ters agreed that they had suffered less than lethal dosage — although large — and that they checked each other.
The only other precaution he took was for them to keep guns by them — all but his wife. Grace Farnham “couldn’t stand guns,” and resented having to eat with guns in sight.
But she ate with good appetite. Duke had built a fire and they were blessed with hot coffee, hot canned beef, hot peas, hot canned sweet po- tatoes, and canned fruit salad — and cigarettes with no worry about air or fire.
“That was lovely,” Grace admit- ted. “Hubert dear? Do you know what it would take to make it just perfect? You don’t approve of
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
37
drinking in the middle of the day but these are special circumstances and my nerves are still a teensy bit on edge — so, Joseph, if you will fust run back inside and fetch a bot- tle of that Spanish brandy — ” ‘‘Grace.”
“What dear? — then all of us could celebrate our miraculous es- cape. You were saying?”
“Most of the liquor was broken. That brings up something else. Duke, you are out of a job as water boss. I’d like you to take over as bartender. There arc at least two unbroken fifths. Whatever you find, split it six ways and make it share and share alike, whether it’s several bottles each, or just a part of a bot- tle.”
Mrs. Farnham looked blank Duke looked uneasy. Karen •aid hastily, “Daddy, you know what I said.”
“Oh, yes. Duke, your sister is on the wagon. So hold her share as a medicinal reserve. Unless she changes her mind.”
“I don’t want the job,” said Duke. “We have to divide up the chores, Duke. Oh yes, do the same with ciga- rettes. When they are gone, they’re gone, whereas I have hopes that we can distill liquor later.” He turned to his wife. “Why not have a Mil- town, dear?”
“Drugs! Hubert Farnham, are you telling me that I can't have a drink?” “Not at all. At least two fifths came through. Your share would be about a half pint. If you want a drink, go ahead.”
“Well! Joseph, run inside and fetch me a bottle of brandy.”
“No!” her husband countermand- ed. “If you want it, Grace, fetch it yourself.”
“Oh, shucks, Hugh, I don’t mind.” “I do. Grace, Joe’s ribs are cracked. It hurts him to climb. You can manage the climb with those boxes as steps — and you’re the only one who wasn’t hurt.”
“That’s not true!”
“Not a scratch. Everybody else was bruised or worse. Now about jobs. I want you to take over as cook. Karen will be your assistant Okay, Karen?”
“Certainly, Daddy.”
“It will keep you both busy. Wc^ll build a grill and dutch oven, but it will be cook over a campfire and wash dishes in the creek for a while.”
“So? And will you please tell me Mr. Farnham, what Joseph is going to do in the meantime? To earn his wages?”
“Will you please tell me, how we’ll pay wages? Dear, dear — can’t you see that things have changed?” “Don’t be preposterous! Joseph will get every cent coming to him and he knows it — just as soon as this mess is straightened out. After all, we’ve saved his life. And we’ve always been good to him, he won’t mind waiting. Will you, Joseph?” “Grace! Quiet down and listen. Joe is no longer our servant. He is our partner in adversity. We’ll nev- er pay him wages again. Quit acting like a child and face the facts. We re broke. We’re never going to have any money again. Our house is gone. My business is gone. The Mountain Exchange Bank is gone. We’re wiped out . . . save for what we
38
IF
•tored in the ^her. But we are kicky. We’re alive and by some mir- acle have a chance of scratching a Mving out of the ground. Lucky. Do you understand?”
*'Oh!” She burst into tears and fled into the shelter.
Her behind was disappearing when Duke got up to follow. His father stopped him. ‘‘Duke!”
“Yes.”
“One word and you can join your mother. I’m going exploring, I want you to go with me.”
Duke hesitated. “All right.”
“We’ll start shortly. I think your job should be ‘hunter.’ You’re a bet- ter shot than I am and Joe has nev- er hunted. What do you think?” “Uh — All right.”
“Good. Well, go soothe her down and, Duke, see if you can make her see the facts.”
“Maybe. But I agree with Moth- er. You were bullying her.”
“As may be. Go ahead.”
Duke turned abruptly and then left. Karen said quietly, “I Aink so, too. Daddy. You were bullying . . .”
“I intended to. I judged it called for bullying. Karen, if I hadn’t tromped on it, she would do no work. . . and would order Joe around, treat him as a hired cook.” “Shucks, Hugh, I don’t mind cooking. It was a pleasure to rustle lunch.”
“She’s a better cook than you arc, Joe, and she’s going to cook. Don’t let me catch you fetching and car- rying for her.”
The younger man grinned. “You won’t catch me.”
“Better not. Or I’ll skin you and nail it to the barn. Barbara, what do you know about farming?” “Very little.”
“You’re a botanist.”
“No, I simply might have been one, some day.”
“Which makes you eight times as much of a farmer as the rest of us. I can barely tell a rose from a dan- delion; Duke knows even less and Karen thinks you dig potatoes out of gravy. You heard Joe say he was a city boy. But we have seeds and a small supply of fertilizers. Also garden tools and books about farm- ing. Look over what we’ve got and find a spot for a garden. Joe and I will do the spading and such. But y%u will have to boss.”
Hugh and his son left a half hour later. “Joe,” Hugh cautioned, “we plan to be back before dark but if we get caught, we’ll keep a fire go- ing all night and come back tomor- row. If you do have to search for us, don’t go alone; take one of the girls. No, take Karen; Barbara has no shoes, just some spike-heeled sandals. Damn. Moccasins — we’ll have to make. Got it?”
“Sure.”
“We’ll head for that hill — that one. I want to get high enough to get the lay of the land and may- be spot signs of civilization.” They set out — rifles, canteens, hand ax, machete, matches, iron rations, compasses, binoculars, mountain boots, coveralls. Coveralls and boots fitted Duke as well as Hugh; Duke found that his father had stocked clothes for him.
They took turns, with the men following blazing trail and counting
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
paces, the leader keeping lookout, compass direction, and record.
The high hill Hugh had picked was across the stream. They ex- plored its bank and found a place to wade. Everywhere they flushed game. The miniature deer were abundant and apparently had never been hunted. By man, at least — Duke saw a mountain lion and twice they saw bears.
It seemed to be about three o^clock local time as they approached the fummit. The climb was steep, clut- tered with under growth and neither man was in training. When they reached the flattish summit Hugh wanted to lay on the ground.
Instead he looked around. To the east the ground dropped off. Ho •tared out over miles of prairie.
He could see no sign of human life.
He adjusted his binoculars and •tarted searching. He saw moving figures, decided that they were ante- lope — or cattle; he made mental note that these herds must he watched. Later, later —
“Hugh?”
He lowered his binoculars. “Yes, Duke?”
“See that peak? It's fourteen tiiousand one hundred and ten feet high.”
“I won’t argue.”
“That’s Mount James. Dad, wc*re home!”
“What do you mean?”
“Look southwest. Those three gendarmes on that profile. The mid- dle one is where I broke my leg when 1 was thirteen. That pointed mountain between there and Mount
. 40
James — Hunter’s Hcurn. Can’t you see? The skyline is as distinctive as a finger print. This is Mountain Springsl”
Hugh stared. This skyline ho knew. His bedroom window was planned to let him see It at dawn; many sunsets he had watched it from his roof.
“Yes.”
“Yes,” Duke agreed. “Damned if I know how. But as I figure it — ” he stomped the ground — “we’re on the high reservoir. Where it ought to be.” His brow wrinkled. “And as near as I can tell, our shelter i^ smack on our lot.
Hugh took out the notebook in which was recorded paces and com- passes courses, did some arithmetic. “Yes. Within the limits of error.”
“Well? How do you figure it?”
Hugh looked at the skyline. “I don’t. Duke how much daylight do we have?”
“Well . . . three hours. The sun will be behind the mountains in two.”
“It took two hours to get here; we should make it back in less. Do you have any cigarettes?”
“Yes.”
“May I have one? Charged against me, of course. I would like to rest about one cigarette, then start back.” He looked around. “It’s open up here. 1 don't think a bear would approach us.” He placed his rifle and belt on the ground, settled down.
Duke offered a cigarette to his father, look one himself. “Dad, you’re a cold fish. Nothing excites you.”
“So? I’m so excitable that I had to karn never to give into it.”
IF
“Doesn’t seem that way to other people.” TTiey smoked in silence, Duke seated, Hugh sprawled out. He was close to exhaustion and wished that he did not have to hike back.
Presently Duke added, “Besides that, you enjoy bullying.”
His father answered, “I suppose so, if you class what I do as bully- ing. No one ever does anything but what he wants to do — ‘enjoys’ — within the possibilities open to him. If I change a tire, it’s because I en- joy it more than being stranded.” “Don’t get fancy. You enjoy bul- lying Mother. You enjoyed spanking me as a kid . . . until Mother put her foot down and made you stop.”
His father said, “We had better start back.”
“Just a second. I want to show you something. Never mind your gear, this won’t take a moment.” Hugh stood up. “What is it?” “Just this. Your Captain Bligh act is finished.” He clouted his father. “That’s for bullying Mother!” He clouted him from the other side and harder, knocking his father off his feet. “And that’s for having that nig- ger pull a gun on me!”
Hugh Farnham lay where he had fallen. “Not ‘nigger,’ Duke. Negro.”
“He’s a Negro as long as he be- haves himself. Pulling a gun on me makes him a goddam nigger. You can get up. I won’t hit you again.” Hugh Farnham got to his feet. “Let’s start back.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say? Go ahead. Hit me. I won’t hit back.” “No.”
“I didn’t break my parole. I wait- ed until we left the shelter.”
“Conceded. Shall I lead? Better, perhaps.”
“Do you think I’m afraid you might shoot me in the back? Look, Dad, I had to do it!”
“Did you?”
“Hell, yes. For my own self respect.”
“Very well.” Hugh. buckled on his belt, picked up his gun, and headed for the last blaze.
They hiked in silence. At last Duke said, “Dad?”
“Yes, Duke?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.”
They went on, found where they had forded the stream, crossed it. Hugh hurried as it was growing darker. Duke closed up again. “Just one thing. Dad? Why didn’t you as- sign Barbara as cook? She’s the freeloader. Why pick on Mother?” Hugh took his time in answering. “Barbara is no more a freeloader than you are, Duke, and cooking is the only thing Grace knows. Or were you suggesting that she loaf while the rest of us work?”
“No. Oh, we all have to pitch in — granted. But no more bullying, no more bawling Mother out in pub- lic. Understand me?”
“Duke.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been studying karate three afternoons ... week ... the past year.” “So?”
“Don’t try it again. Shooting me in the back is safer.”
“I hear you.”
“Until you decide to shoot me, it would be well to accept my leader-
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
41
ship. Or do you wish to the
responsibility?”
“Are you offering it?**
“I am not in a postdon to. Per- haps the group w<nikl accept you. Your mother would. Possibly yow sister would prefer you. Concerning Barbara and Joe I offer no opinion.** “How about you, Dad?*’
“I won’t answer that; I owe you nothing. But until you decide to make a bid for leadership, I expect the same willing discipline you showed under parole.”
“ ‘Willing discipline’ indeed!”
“In the long run there is no other sort. I can’t quell a mutiny every few hours — and I’ve had two from you plus an utter lack of discipline from your mother. No leader can function on those terms. So I will ‘assume your willing discipline. That Includes no interference should I de- cide again to use what you call •bullying.’ ”
“Now see here, I told you I would sot stand for — ”
“Quiet! Unless you make up your asind to that, your safest choice is in shoot me in the back. Don’t come at me with bare hands nor risk giv- ing me a chance to shoot first. At 4be next sign of trouble, Duke, I will kfll you. If possible. One of us will surely be killed.”
They trudged along in silence, Mr. Farnham never looking back. At last Duke said, “Dad, for Christ’s sake, why can’t you run things demo- cratically? I don’t want to boss Ihings, I simply want you to be fair about it.”
“Mmm, you don’t want to boss. You want to be a backseat driver — with a veto over the driver.”
"Notsf I simply want tilings run democratically.”
“You do? Shall we vote on idiether Grace k to work like die rest of us? Whether she shall hog the liquor? Shall we use Robert’s Rules of Order? Should she with- draw while we debate it? Or should she stay and defend herself against charges of indolence and drunken- ness? Do you wish to submit your mother to such ignominy?”
“Don’t be silly!”
“I am trying to find out what you mean by ‘democratically.’ If you mean putting every decision to a vote, I am willing — if you will bind yourself to abide by every majority decision. You’re welcome to run for chairman. I’m sick of the responsi- bility and I know that Joe does not like being my deputy.”
“That’s another thing. Why should Joe have any voice in these matters?”
“I thought you wanted to do it ‘democratically’?”
‘'Yes, but he is — ”
“What, Duke? A ‘nigger’? Or a servant?”
“You’ve got a nasty way of put- ting things.”
“You’ve got nasty ideas. We’ll try formal democracy — rules of order, debate, secret ballot, everything — any time you want to try such fool- ishness. Especially any time you want to mutiny and move a vote of no confidence and take over the leadership . . . and I’m so bitter as to hope that you succeed. In the meantime we do have a good demo- cracy.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’m serving by consent of the ma-
ir
42
jority — four to two, I think. But that doesn't suit me; I want it to be unanimous, I can’t put up indef- initely with wrangling from the mi- nority. You and your mother, I mean. I want it to be five to one before we get back, with your as- surance that you will not interfere in my efforts to persuade, or cajole, or bully, your mother into accept- ing her share of the load — until you care to risk a vote of no con- fidence.”
“You’re asking me to agree to
thatr
“No, Tm telling you. Willing dis- cipline on your part ... or at the next clash one of us will be killed, I won’t give you the slightest warning. That’s why your safest course is to shoot me in the back.”
“Quit talking nonsense! You know I won’t shoot you in the back.”
“So? I will shoot you in the back or anywhere at the next hint of trouble. Duke, I can see only one alternative. If you find it impossible to give willing disciplined consent, if you don’t think you can displace me, if you can’t bring yourself to kill me, if you don’t care to risk a clash in which one of us will be killed, then there is still a peaceful solu- tion.”
“What is it?”
“Any time you wish, you can leave. I’ll give you a rifle, ammuni- tion, salt, matches, a knife, what- ever you find needful. You don’t de- serve them but I won’t turn you out with nothing.”
Duke gave a bitter laugh. “Send- ing me out to play Robinson Crusoe . . . and leaving all the women with you!”
“Oh, no! Any who wish arc fret' to go. With a fair share of anything and some to boot. All three womei if you can sell the idea.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do. And do a little politicking and size up your chances of winning a vote against me ‘democraticall/ — while being extraordinarily care- ful not to cross wills .with me and thereby bring on a showdown soon- er than you wish. I warn you, I’m feeling very short-tempered; you loosened one of my teeth.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“That wasn’t the way it felt There’s the shelter; you can start that ‘willing discipline’ by pretend- ing that we’ve had a lovely after- noon.”
“Look, Dad, if you won’t men- tion — ”
“Shut up. I’m sick of you.”
As they neared the shelter Karen saw them and yoohooed; Joe and Barbara came crawling out the tunnel. Karen waved her shovel. “Come see what I’ve done!”
She had dug privies, on each side of the shelter. Saplings formed frameworks which had been screened by tacking cardboard from liquor cases. Seats had been built of lumber remnants from the tank room. “Well?” demanded Karen. Aren’t they gorgeousT^
“Yes,” agreed Hugh. “Much more lavish than I had expected.” He re- frained from saying that they had cost most of the lumber.
“I didn’t do it all. Barbara did the carpentry. You should hear her swear when she hits her thumb.” “You hurt your thumb, Barbara?”
PARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
43
“It’ll get welL Come try the lad- der.”
“Sure thing.” He started inside, Joe stopped him.
“Hugh, while we’ve still got light, how about seeing something?”
“All right. What?”
“The shelter. You’ve been talking about building a cabin. Suppose we do: What do we have? A mud floor and a roof that leaks, no glass for windows and no doors. Seems to me the shelter is better.”
“Well, perhaps,” agreed Hugh. “I had thought we could use it while pioneering, if we had to.”
“I don’t think it’s too radioactive, Hugh. That dosimeter should have gone sky high if the roof is really hot.’ It hasn’t.”
“That’s good news. But, Joe, look at it. A slant of thirty degrees is un- comfortable. We need a house with a level floor.”
“That’s what I mean. Hugh, that hydraulic jack — it’s rated at thirty tons. How much does the shelter weigh?”
“Oh. Let me think how many yards of mix we used and how much steel.” Hugh pondered it, got out his notebook. “Call it two hundred fifty tons.”
“Well, it was an idea.”
“Maybe it’s a good idea.” Hugh prowled around the shelter, a block twenty feet square and twelve high, iizing up angles, estimating yard- iges.
“It can be done,” Hugh decided. “We dig under on the uphill side, to .he center line, cutting out enough o let that side settle down level. 3amn, I wish we had power tools.”
“How long will it take?”
**Two men oond do it in a week if they didn’t run into solid rock. With no dynamite a boulder can be a problem.”
“Too much of a problem?”
“Always some way to cope. Let’s pray we don’t run into solid rock. As we get it dug out, we brace it with logs. At the end we snag the logs out with block and tackle. Then we put the jack under the downhill side and tilt it into place, shore it up and fill with what we’ve re- moved. Lots of sweat.”
“I’ll start bright and early tomor- row.”
“You will like hell. Not until your ribs have healed. I will start tomor- row, with two husky girls. Plus Duke, if his shoulder isn’t sore, after he shoots us a deer; we’ve got to conserve canned goods. Reminds me — what was done with the dirty cans?”
“Buried ’em.”
“Dig them up and wash them. A tin can is more valuable than gold; we’ll use them for all sorts of things. Let’s go in. I’ve still to admire the ladder.”
The ladder was two trimmed saplings, with treads cut from boards and notched and nailed. Hugh reflected again that lumber had been used too lavishly; treads should have been fashioned from things that could no longer be or- dered by picking up a telephone.
“Thaft a beautiful ladder, Bar- bma!”
She looked very pleased. “Joe did tile hard parts.”
•1 did not,” Joe denied. “I just
IF
44
gave advice and touched up with the chisel.”
“Well, whoever did it, it’s lovely. Now we’ll see if it will take my weight.”
“Oh, it will!” Barbara said proud- ly*
The shelter had all lights burning. Have to caution them about batter- ies, too. Must tell the girls to look up how to make candles. “Where’^ Grace, Karen?”
“Mother isn’t well. She’s lying down.”
“So? You had better start dinner.” Hugh went into the women’s bay, saw what sort of not-well his wife suffered. She was sleeping heavily, mouth open, snoring, and was fully dressed. He reached down, peeled back an eyelid; she did not stir. “Duke.”
“Yes?”
“Come here. Everybody else out- side.”
Duke joined him. Hugh said, “After lunch, did you give Grace a drink?”
“Huh? You didn’t say not to.”
“I wasn’t criticizing. How much?”
“Just a highball. An ounce and a half of Scotch, with water.”
“Does that look like one high- ball? Try to rouse her.”
Duke tried, then straightened up. “Dad, I know you think I’m a fool. But I gave her just one drink. Damn it. I’m more opposed to her drink- ing than you are!”
“Take it easy, Duke. I assume that she got at the bottle after you left.”
“Well, maybe.” Duke frowned. “As soon as I found an unbroken
bottle I gave Mother that drink. Then I took inventory. I think I found it all, unless you have some hidden away — ”
“No, the cases were together.” “Right. I found thirteen unbroken bottles, twelve fifths and a quart of bourbon. I remember thinking that was two fifths each and the quart I would keep in reserve. I had opened one bottle of King’s Ransom. I made a pencil mark on it. We’ll know if she found it.”
“You hid the liquor?”
“I stashed it in the upper bunk on the other side; I figured it would be hard for her to climb up there. I’m not a complete fool, Dad. She couldn’t see me, she was in her bunk. But maybe she guessed.” “Let’s check.”
Thirteen bottles were between springs and mattress; twelve nearly full. Duke held it up. “See? Right to the line. But there was another bottle we had a snort from, after that second bombing. What happened to it?”
“Barbara and I had some after you went to sleep, Duke. There was some left. I never saw it again. It was in the tank room.”
“Oh! I did, while we were bailing. Busted. I give up — where did she get it?”
“She didn’t, Duke.”
“What do you mean?”
“It wasn’t liquor.” Hugh went to the medicines drawer, got a bottle with a broken seal. “Count these seconal capsules. You had two last night.”
“Yeah.”
PARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
48
“Karen had one at bedtime, one later; Joe had one. Neither Barbara nor 1 had any, nor Grace. Five.” “Hold it, Vm counting.”
His father began to count as Duke pushed them aside.
“Ninety-one,” Duke announced. “Check.” Hugh put the capsules back. “So she took four.”
“What do we do, Dad? Stomach pump? Emetic?”
“Nothing.”
“Why, you heartless — She tried lo kill herself!”
“Slow down, Duke. She did noth- ing of the sort. Four capsules, six grains, simply produces stupor in a healthy person — and she’s healthy as a horse; she had a physical a month ago. No, she snitched those pills to get drunk on.” Hugh scowled. “An alcohol drunk is bad enough. But people kill themselves without meaning to with sleeping pills.” “Dad, what do you mean, ‘she look them to get drunk on’?”
“You don’t use them?”
“I never had one in my life untO those two last night.”
“Do you remember how you felt just before you went to sleep? Warm and happy and woozy?”
“No. I just lay down and konked out. Next thing I knew I was against Ihe wall on my shoulders.”
“You haven’t developed tolerance for them. Grace knows what they can do. A very hap^y drunk. I’ve known her to take more than one but she’s never been chopped off from liquor before. When a person eats sleeping pills because he can’t get liquor, he’s in a bad way — a very bad way.”
“Dad, you should have kept liquor away from her long ago!”
“How, Duke? Tell her she couldn’t have a drink? Take them away from her at parties? Quarrel with her in public? Fight with her in front of Joe? Not let her have cash, close out her bank account, see that she had no credit? Would that have stopped her from pawning furs?” “Mother would never have done that"*
“It’s typical behavior in such cases. Duke, it is impossible to keep liquor away from any adult who is determined to have it. The United States government wasn’t that pow- erful. I’ll go further. It is impossible for anyone to be responsible for an- other person’s behavior.”
“Uh . . . that’s beside the point. What do we do now?”
“So it is, counselor. Well, we keep these pills away from her.” “And I’m damned well going to chop off the liquor completely!” “Oh, I wouldn’t.”
“You wouldn’t, em? Did I hear correctly when you said I was liquor boss?”
“The decision is up to you. I simply said that I wouldn’t. I think it’s a mistake.”
“Well, I don’t. Dad, I won’t go into the matter of whether you could, or should, have stopped Mother from getting the way she is. But I intend to stop it.”
Very well, Duke. Mmm, she’s go- ing to be cut off anyhow in a matter of days. It might be easier to taper her off. It you decide to, Pll contribute a bottle from my share.
46
IF
Hell, you can have both of mine. I like a snort as well as the next man. But Grace needs it.”
“That won’t be necessary,” his son said crisply. “I’m not going to let her have any. Get it over with, she’ll be well that much sooner.”
“Your decision. May I offer a sug- gestion?”
“What?”
“In the morning, be up before she
is. Move the liquor out and bury it, someplace known only to you. Then have open one bottle at a time and dispense it by the ounce. Tell the others to drink where she can’t see
it. You had better ditch the open bottle outdoors, too.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“But that makes it all the more urgent to keep sleeping pills away from her.”
“Bury them?”
“No. We need them inside, and it’s not just sleeping pills. Demerol. Hypodermic needles. Several drugs, some poisonous and some addictive and all irreplaceable. If she can’t find seconal — five bottles of a hun- dred each, it’s bulky — there’s no telling what she might get into. We’ll use the vault.”
“Eh?”
“A little safe set into concrete back of that cupboard. Nothing in it but birth certificates and such, and some reserve ammo, and two thou- sand silver dollars. Toss the money in with the hardware, we’ll use it as metal. The combo is ‘July 4th, 1776’ — ‘74-17-76.’ Better change it, Grace may know it.”
“At once!”
“No rush, she won’t wake up. ‘Re- FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
serve ammo — ’ Duke, you were li- quor and cigarette boss and now you are drugs boss. I’m going whole hog, you are rationing officer. Re- sponsible for everything that can’t be replaced: liquor, tobacco, ammu- nition, nails, toilet tissue, matches, dry cells, Kleenex, needles — ” “Good God! Got any more dirty jobs?”
“Lots of them. Duke, I’m trying to make it each according to his ta- lents. Joe is too diffident — and ha missed obvious economies today. Karen doesn’t think ahead. Barbara feels like a freeloader even though she’s not, she wouldn’t crack down. I would, but I’m swamped. You are a natural for it; you don’t hesitate to assert yourself. And you have foresight when you take the trouble to use it.”
“Thank you too much. All right.” “The hardest thing to drill into them will be saving every scrap of metal and paper and cloth and lum- ber, things Americans have wasted for years. Fish hooks. Groceries aren’t as important; we’ll replace them, you by hunting, Barbara by gardening. Nevertheless better note what can’t be replaced. Salt. You must ration salt especially.”
“Salt?”
“Unless you run across a salt lick in hunting. Salt — Damn it, we’re go- ing to have to tan leather. All I used to do with a hide was rub it with salt and give it to the taxidermist. Im salt necessary?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll look it up. Damnation, we’re going to find that I failed to stock endless things we’ll be miserable without.”
4f
“Dad," Duke admitted, “I think you’ve done mighty well."
“So? That’s pleasant to hear. We’ll manage to — ”
“Yes?" Hugh went to the tank room. Karen’s head stuck up out of the manhole.
“Daddy, can we please come in? It’s dark and scary and something big chased Doc in. Joe won’t let us until you say."
4 4Qorry Baby. Everybody come O in. And we’ll put the lid on."
“Yes, sir. But Daddy, you ought to look outside. Stars. The Milky Way like a neon sign! And the Big Dipper — so maybe this isn’t anoth- er planet? Or would we still see the Big Dipper?"
“I’m not certain." He recalled that the discovery that they were still in James County, Mountain Spring area, had not been shared. But Duke must tell k; it was his deduction. “Duke, want to take a look before we close up?"
“Thanks, I’ve seen a star."
“As you wish.” Hugh went outside waited while his eyes adjusted, saw that Karen was right: Never before bad he seen the heavens on a clear mountain night with no other light, nor trace of smog, to dim its glory.
“Beautiful!"
Karen slipped her hand into his. "Yes," she agreed. “But I could use •ome street lights. There are things out there. And we heard coyotes."
“There are bears and Duke saw a mountain lion. Joe, better keep the cat in at night, and try to keep him close in the daytime.”
“He won’t go far, he’s timid. And something just taught him a lesson."
“And me, too!" announced Karen “Bears! Come, Barbie, let’s go ul Daddy, if the Moon comes up, thk must be Earth — and I’ll never trust a comic book again."
“Go ask your brother."
Duke’s discovery was the main subject at dinner. Karen’s disap- pointment was offset by her interest in how they had mislaid Mountain Spfings. “Duke, are you sure you saw what you thought you saw?"
“No possible mistalce," Hugh an- swered for him. “If it weren’t for the trees, you could have spotted it. We had to climb Reservoir Hill to get a clear view."
“You were gone all that time just to Reservoir Hill? Why, that’s only five minutes away!"
“Duke, explain to your sister about automobiles."
“I think the bomb did it,” Bar- bara said suddenly.
“Why, certainly. Barb. The ques- tion is howT^
“I mean the enormous H-bomb the Russians claimed to have in or- bit. The one they called the ‘Cos- mic Bomb.’ I think it hit us."
44/^0 on, Barbara."
Vj'“Well, the first bomb was aw- ful and the second one was bad; they almost burned us up. But the third one just hit us whammy! and then no noise, no heat, no rumbling, and the radioactivity got less instead of worse. Here’s my notion: You’ve heard of parallel worlds? A million worlds side by side, almost alike but not quite? Worlds where Elizabeth married Essex and Mark Anthony hntid redheads? And Ben Franklin
48
IF
fot electrocuted with his kite? Well, this is one.”
“First automobiles and now Ben- jamin Franklin. 1*11 go watch Ben Casey.**
“Like this, Karen. The Cosmic Bomb hits us, dead on — and kicks us into the next world. One exactly like the one we were in, except that it never had men in it.**
“I’m not sure I like a world with no men. I’d rather have a strange planet, with warlords riding thoats. Or is it zitidars?”
“What do you think of my theory, Hugh?”
“I’m keeping an open mind. I’ll go thi» far: We should not coui>t on finding other human beings.”
“I go for your theory, Barbara,” Duke offered. “It accounts for the facts. Squeezed out like a melon seed. Pht!”
“And we landed here.”
Duke shrugged. “Let it be known as the Barbara Wells Theory of Cos- mic Transportation and stand adopt- ed. Here we are. We’re stuck with it — and I’m going to bed. Who sleeps where, Hugh?”
“Just a second. Folks, meet the Rationing Officer. Take a bow, Duke.” Hugh explained the austerity program.' “Duke will work it out but that’s the idea. For example, I no- ticed a bent nail on the ground in the powder room. That calls for be- ing spreadeagled and flogged. For a serious offense, such as wasting a match, it’s keelhauling. Second of- fence— hang him at the yardarm I” “Gee! Do we get to watch?” “Shut up, Karen. No punishments, just the miserable knowledge that
you have deprived the rest of some- thing necessary to life, health, or comfort. So don’t give Duke any backtalk. I want to make another assignment. Baby, you know short- hand.”
“That’s putting it strongly. Mr. Gregg wouldn’t think so.”
“Hugh, I take shorthand. What do you want?”
“Okay, Barbara, you are historian. Today is Day One. Or start with the calendar we are used to, but we may adjust it; those were winter stars. Every night jot down the events and put it in longhand later. Your title is Keeper of the Flame. As soon as possible, you really will be Keeper of the Flame; we will have to light a fire, then bank it ev- ery night. Sorry to have held you up, Duke.”
They got ready for bed. Hugh was pleased to see that Joe un- dressed completely and got into the lower bunk, as he had been told to. Duke stretched out on the floor, bare. The room was hot; the mass cooled slowly and air no longer cir- culated with the manhole cover in place, despite the vents in the tank room. Hugh made note that he must devise a bearproof — and cat- proof — gried in place of the cover. Later, later —
He took the camp lamp into the tank room.
Someone had put the books back on shelves but some were open to dry; he fluffed these, hoped for the best.
The last books in the world —
So it seemed.
PARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
49
He felt sudden grief that abstract knowledge of deaths of millions had not given him. Somehow, the burn- ing of millions of books felt more brutally obscene than the killing of people. All men must die, it was their single common heritage. But a book need never die and should not be killed; books were the immortal part of man. Book burners — To rape a defenseless friendly book.
Books had always been his best friends. In a hundred public librar- ies they had taught him. From a thousand newsstands they had warmed his loneliness. He suddenly felt that, if he had not been able to save some books, it would hardly be worthwhile to live.
Most of his collection was func- tional: The Encyclopedia Britannica — Grace had thought the space should be used for a television re- ceiver ‘‘because they might be hard to buy afterwards.’* He had grudged its business too, but it was the most compact assemblage of knowledge on the market. “Che” Guevera’s War of the Guerrillas — thank God he wasn’t going to need that! Nor those next to it: “Yank” Levy’s manual on resistance fighting, Griffith’s Trans- lation of Mao Tse-tung’s On Guer- rilla Warfare, Tom Wintringham’s New Ways of War, the new TR on special operations — forget ’em! Aint a-gonna study war no more!
Tht Boy Scout Handbook, Esh- bach’s Mechanical Engineering, The Radio Repairman's Guide, Outdoor Life’s Hunting and Fishing, Edible Fungi and How to Know Them, Home Life in the Colonial Days, Your Log Cabin, Chimneys and
Fireplaces, The Hobo's Cook Book^ Medicine Without a Doctor, Fif€ Acres and Independence, Russiam Self-Taught and English-Russian and Russian - English dictionaries. The Complete Herbalist, the survival manuals of the Navy Bureau of Weapons, The Air Force’s Survival Techniques, The Practical Carpenter — all sound books, of the brown and useful sort.
The Oxford V'erse, A Treasury of American Poetry, Hoyle's Book of Games, Burton’s Anaton^y of Mel- ancholy, a different Burton’s Thou- sand Nights and a Night, the good old Odyssey with the Wyeth illustra- tions, Kipling’s Collected Verse and his Just So Stories, a one-volume Shakespeare, the Book of Common Prayer, the Bible, Mathematical Re- creations and Essays, Thus Spake Zarathustra,, T. S. Eliot’s The Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, Robert Frost’s Verse, Men Against the Sea —
He v/ished that he had found time to stock the list of fiction he had started. He wished that he had fetched down his works of Mark Twain regardless of space. He wished —
Too late, too late. This was it. All that was left of a mighty civili- zation. ''The cloud-capped towers.**
He jerked awake and found that he had fallen asleep standing up. Why had he come in here? Some- thing important. Oh, yes! Tanning leather — Leather? Barbara was barefooted, Barbara must have moccasins. Better try the Britanni- ca. Or that Colonial Days volume, thank God, you didn’t have
50
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to use saJtl Find some oak trees. Better yet, have Barbara find them; it would make her feel useful. Find something that only Joe could do, too; make the poor little bastard feel appreciated. Loved. Remember to —
He stumbled back into the main room, looked at the upper bunk and knew that he couldn’t make it. He lay down on the edge of Duke’s blanket and fell instantly asleep.
V
Grace did not get up for break- fast. The girls quietly fed them, then stayed in to clean up. Duke went hunting, carrying a forty-five, and a hunting bow. It was his choice; arrows could be recovered or replaced, bullets were gone for- ever. Duke tried a few flights and decided that his shoulder was okay.
He checked watches and set out, with an understanding that a smoky fire would be built to home on if he was not back by three.
Hugh told the girls to take out- doors any book not bone dry, then broke out quick the shovel and start- ed leveling their house. Joe tried to join him; Hugh vetoed it.
‘Took, Joe, there are a thousand things to do. Do them. But no heavy work.”
“Such as what, Hugh?”
“Uh, correct the inventories. Give Duke a hand by starring everything that can’t be replaced. In the course of that you’ll think of things; write them down. Look up how to make soap and candles. Check both dosi- meters. Strap on a gun and keep
your eyes open — and see that those girls don’t go outside without guns. Hell, figure out a way to get plumb- ing and running water, with no pipe and no lead and no water closets and no portland cement.”
“How in the world could you do that?”
“Somebody did it the first time. And tell this bush-tailed sidewalk superintendent that I need no help.”
“Okay. Come here. Doc! Come, come, come!”
“And Joe. Speaking of bathrooms, you might offer to stand guard for the girls while they bathe. You don’t have to look.”
“All right. I’ll offer. But I’U teU them you suggested it. I don’t want them to think — ”
“Look, Joe. They are a couple of clean, wholesome, evil-minded American girls. Say what you please, they will still believe you are sneaking a peek. It’s part of their credo that they are so fatally irre- sistible that a man just has to. So don’t be too convincing; you’ll hurt their feelings.”
“I get it. I guess.” Joe went away, Hugh started digging, while reflect- ing that he had never missed a chance, given opportunity without loss of face — but that incorrigible Sunday School lad probably would not sneak a peek at Lady Godiva. A good lad — no imagination but ut- terly dependable.
Very quickly Hugh knew what his worst oversight had been: no wheel- barrow.
He had dug only a little before reaching this new appreciation. Dig- ging by muscle power was bad but
PARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
51
carrying it away in buckets was an affront to good sense.
So he carried and thought about how to build a wheel — with no metal, no heating tools, no machine shop, no foundry, no —
Now wait! He had steel bottles. There was strap iron in the bunks and soft iron in the periscope hous- ing. Charcoal he could make and a bellows was simply an animal skin and some branches. Whittle a noz- zle. Any dam fool who couldn’t own a wheel with all that was at his dis- posal deserved to lift and carry.
He had ten thousand trees, didn’t he? Finland didn’t have a damn thing but trees. Yet Finland was the finest little country in the world.
“Doc, get out from under my feet!” If Finland was still there. Wherever the world was.
Maybe the girls would like a Finnish bath. Down where they could plunge in afterwards and squeal and feel good. Poor kids, they would never see a beauty par- lor; maybe a sauna would be a “moral equivalent.” Grace might like it. Sweat off that blubber, get her slender again. What a beauty she had been!
Barbara showed up, with a shov- el. “Where did you get that? And what do you think you’re doing?” “It’s the one Duke was using. I’m going to dig.” •
“In bare feet? You’re era — Hey, you’re wearing shoes!”
“Joe’s. The jeans are his, too. The shirt is Karen’s. Where shall I dig?” “Just beyond me, here. Any boul- der over five hundred pounds, ask for help. Where’s Karen?”
“Bathing. I decided to stink worst and bathe lat«-.”
“When you like. Don’t try to stick on this job all day. You can’t.”
“I like working with you, Hugh. Almost as much as — ” She let it hang.
“As playing bridge?”
“Yes, you could mention that too.”
“Barbie girl.”
He found that just digging was fun. Gave the mind a rest and the muscles a workout. Happy making. Hadn’t tried it for much too long.
Barbara had been digging an hour when Mrs. Farn- ham came around a corner. Bar- bara said, “Good morning,” added a shovelful to a bucket, picked both up half filled, and disappeared around the other corner.
Grace Farnham said, “Well! I wondered where you were hiding. I was left quite alone. Do you realize that?” She was in the clothes she had slept in. Her features looked puffy.
“You were allowed to sleep, dear.”
“It isn’t pleasant to wake up in a strange place alone. I’m not accus- tomed to it.”
“Grace, you weren’t being slight- ed. You were being pampered.”
“Is that what you call it? Then we’ll say no more about it, do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Really?” She seemed to brace herself, tihen said bleakly, “Perhaps you can stop long enough to tell me where you have hidden my liquor. My liquor. My share. 1 wouldn’t
52
IF
ttdnk of toudimg yours — after the way you’ve treated me! In front of •ervants and strangers, may I add?” “Grace, you must sec Duke.” ^What do you mtanV*
“Duke is in charge of liquor. I don’t know where he put it.” **You*re lyingr
“Grace, I haven’t lied to you in twenty-seven years.”
"'Oh! You brutal, brutal man!” “Perhaps. But I’m not lying and the next time you say I am, it will go hard with you.”
"Where's Duke? He won’t let you talk to me that wayl He told me so, he promised me!”
“Duke has gone hunting. He hopes to be back by three.”
She stared, then rushed back around the comer. Barbara reap- peared, picked up her shovel. They went on working.
Hugh said, “I’m sorry you were exposed to that.”
“To what?”
“Unless you were at least a hun- dred yards away, you know what” “Hugh, it’s none of my business.” “Under these conditions, anything is everybody’s business. You have formed a bad opinion of Grace.” “Hugh, I would not dream of be- ing critical of your wife.”
“You have opinions. But I want you to have one in depth. Visualize her as she was, oh, twenty-five years ago. Think of Karen.”
“She would have looked like Karen.”
“Yes. But Karen has never had responsibility. Grace had and took it well. I was an enlisted man; I wasn’t commissioned until after Pearl Har-
bor. Her people were what is known as ‘good family.’ Not anxious to have their daughter marry a penni- less enlisted man.”
“I suppose not.”
“Nevertheless she did. Barbara, have you any notion what it was to be the wife of a junior enlisted man in those days? With no money? Grace’s parents wanted her to come home — but would not send her a cent as long as she stuck with me. She stuck.”
“Good for Grace.”
“Yes. She had no preparation for living in one room and sharing a bath down the hall, nor for waiting in Navy out-patient clinics. For making a dollar go twice as far as it should. For staying alone while I was at sea. Young and pretty and in Norfolk, she could have found ex- citement. She found a job instead — in a laundry, sorting dirty clothes. And whenever I was home she was bright and cheerful and un- complaining. Alexander was born the next year — ”
“ ‘Alexander’?”
44T^uke. Named for his mater- -L/ nal grandpappy; I didn’t get a vote. Her parents were anxious to make up once they had a grandson; they were even willing to accept me. Grace stayed cool and never ac- cepted a cent — back to work with our landlady minding the baby in weeks.
“Those years were the roughest. I went up fast and money wasn’t such a problem. The war came and I was bucked from chief to j.g. and ended as a lieutenant commander in
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
53
Seabees. In 1946 I had to choose between going back to chief or be- coming a civilian. With Grace’s backing, I got out. So I was on the beach with no job, a wife, a son in grammar school, a three-year-oki daughter, living in a trailer, prices high and going higher. We had some war bonds and a little that we had managed to put in the bank.
‘‘That was the second rough p»- k>d. I took a stab at contracting, lost our savings, went to work for a water company. We didn’t starve but scraped icebox and dishrag soup were on the menu. Barbara, she •tood it like a trouper — a hard- working den mother, a pillar of the FTA, and always cheerful.
“I was a construction boss before long and presently I tried contract- ing again. This time it clicked. I built a house on spec and a shoe string, sold it before it was finished end built two more at once. We’ve never been broke since,” he paused ••until now.”
Hugh Farnham looked puzzled. “That was when she started to slip. When she started having help. When we kept liquor in the house. We didn’t quarrel — we never did, save over the fact that I tried to raise Duke fairly strictly and Grace couldn’t bear to have the boy touched.
“But that was when it started, when I started making money. She isn’t built to stand prosperity. Grace has always stood up to adversity magnificently. This is the first time •he hasn’t. I still think she will.”
“Of course she will, Hugh.”
“I hope so.”
“I’m glad to know more about her, Hugh. I’ll try to be consider- ate.”
“Damn it, I’m not asking that. I just want you to know that fat and foolish and self-centered isn’t all there is to Grace. Nor was her slipping entirely her fault. Fm not easy to live with, Barbara.”
“So?”
“So! When we were able to slow down, I didn’t. I let business keep me away evenings. When a woman is left alone, it’s easy to slip out for another beer when the commercial comes on and to nibble all evening along with the beer. If I was home, I was more likely to read than to visit, anyhow. And I didn’t just let business keep me away; I joined the local duplicate club. She joined but she dropped out. She plays a good social game — but I like to fight for every point. No criticism of her, there’s no virtue in playing as if it were life or death. Grace’s way is better — had I been willing to take it easy, too . . . well, she wouldn’t be the way she is.”
“Nonsense!” said Barbara, sudden- ly flaring up.
“Pardon me?”
“Hugh Farnham, what a person is can never be somebody eise’s fault, / think. I am what I am because Barbie herself did it. And so did Grace. And so did you.” She added in a low voice, “I love you. And that’s not your fault, nor is anything we did your fault. I won’t listen to you beating your breast and sobb- ing, ‘Mea culpa!’ You don’t take credit for Grace’s virtues. Why take blame for her faults?”
i4
IF
He blinked and smiled. “Seven no trump.”
“That’s better.”
“I love you. Consider yourself kissed.”
“Kiss back. Grand slam. But watch it,” she said out of the comer of her mouth. “Here come the cops.” It was Karen, clean, shining, hair brushed, fresh lipstick, and smiling. “What an inspiring sight!” she said. “Would you poor slaves like a crust of bread and a pannikin of water?” “Shortly,” her father agreed. “In the meantime don’t carry these buckets too heavily loaded.”
Karen backed away. “1 wasn’t volunteering!”
“That’s all right. We aren't formal.”
“But, Daddy, I’m cleanf”
“Has the creek gone dry?” “Daddy! I’ve got lunch ready. Out front. You’re too filthy to come into my lovely clean house.”
“Yes, baby. Come along, Bar- bara.” He picked up the buckets.
Mrs. Farnham did not appear for lunch. Karen stated that Mother had decided to eat inside; Hugh let it go at that — there would be enough hell when Duke got back.
Joe said, “Hugh? About that no- tion of plumbing — ”
“Got it figured out?”
“Maybe I see a way to have run- ning water.”
“If we get running water, I guar- antee to provide plumbing fixtures.” “Really, Daddy? I know what I want. In colored tile. Lavender, I think. And with a dressing — ^
“Shut up, infant. Yes, Joe?” “Well, you know those Roman aqueducts. This stream runs uphill that way. I mean it’s higher up that way, so someplace it’s higher than the shelter. As I understand it, Ro- man aqueducts weren’t pipe, they were open.”
“I see.” Faraham considered it. There was a waterfall a hundred yards upstream. Perhaps above it was high enough. “But that would mean a lot of masonry, whether dry-stone, or mud mortar. And each arch requires a frame while it’s be- ing built.”
“Couldn’t we just split logs and hollow them out? And support them on other logs?”
“We could.” Hugh thought about it. “There’s an easier way, and one (hat would kill two birds. Barbara, what sort of country is this?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You said that this area is at least semi-tropical. Can you tell what season it is? And what the rest of the year is likely to bring? What I’m driving at is this: Are you going to need irrigation?”
“Good heavens, Hugh, I can’t answer that!”
“You can try?”
“Well — ” She looked around. “I doubt if it ever freezes here. If we had water, we might have crops all year. This is not a tropical rain forest, or the undergrowth would be much more dense. It looks like a place with a rainy season and a dry season.”
“Our creek doesn’t go dry; it has lots of fish. Where were you think- ing of having your garden?”
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
55
“How about this stretch down- stream to the south? Several trees should come out, though, and a lot of bushes.”
“Trees and bushes are no prob- lem. Mmm — Joe, let’s take a walk, ril carry a rifle, you strap on your forty-five. Girls, don’t dig so much that it topples down on you. We would miss you.”
“Daddy, I was thinking of taking a nap.”
“Good. Think about it while you’re digging.”
Hugh and Joe worked their way upstream. “What are you figuring on, Hugh?”
“A contour-line ditch. We need to lead water to an air vent on the roof. If we can do that, we’ve got it made. A sanitary toilet. Running water for cooking and washing. And for gardening, coming in high enough to channel it wherever Bar- bara wants it. But the luxury that will mean most to our womenfolk is a bath and kitchen. We’ll clear the tank room and install both, using partitions.”
“Hugh, I see how you might get water with a ditch. But what about fixtures? You can’t just let water splash, any which way, down through die roof.”
“I don’t know yet, but we’ll build them. Not a flush toilet, it’s too complex. But a constant-flow toil^, a sort that used to be common aboard warships. It’s a trough with seats. Water runs into one end, out the other. We’ll bail it down the manhole, out the tunnel, and away from the house. Have you seen any clay?”
ii'^here is a clay bank at the A stream below the house. Kar- en complained about how sticky it was. She went upstream to bathe, a sandy spot.”
“I’ll look at it. If we can bake clay, we can make all sorts of things. A toilet. A sink. Dishes. Tile pipe. Build a kiln out of unbaked clay, use the kiln to bake anything. But clay just makes it easier. Water is the real gold; all civilizations were built on water. Joe, we are about high enough.”
“Maybe a little higher? It would be embarrassing to dig a ditch a couple of hundred yards long — ”
“Longer.”
“ — or longer, and find that it’s too low and no way to get it up to the roof.”
“Oh, we’ll survey it first.”
**Survey it? Hugh, maybe you didn’t notice but we don’t even have a spirit level. That big smash broke its glasses. And there isn’t even a tripod, much less a transit and all those things.”
“The Egyptians invented survey- ing with less, Joe. Losing the spirit level doesn’t matter. We’ll build an unspirit level.”
“Are you making fun of me, Hugh?”
“Not at all. Mechanics were building level and square centuries before you could buy instruments. We’ll build a plumb-bob level. That’s an upside down T, and a string with a weight to mark the vertical. You can build it about six feet long and six high to give us a long sighting arm — minimize the errors. Have to take apart one of the bunks for
56
IF
boards. It’s light, fussy work you can do while your ribs heal. While the girls do the heavy, unfussy excava- ting.”
“You draw it, I’ll build it.”
“When we get the building leveled we’ll mount it on the roof and sight upstream. Have to cut a tree or two but we won’t have any trouble run- ning a base line. Intercepts we run with a smaller level. Duck soup, Joe.”
“No sweat, huh.”
“Mostly sweat. But twenty feet a day of shallow ditch and we’ll have irrigation water when the dry sea- son hits. The bathroom can wait — the gals will be cheered just by the fact that there will be one, some- day. Joe, it would suit me if our base line cuts the stream about here. See anything?”
“What should I see?”
“We fell those two trees and they dam the creek. Then chuck in branches, mud, and some brush and still more mud and rocks and the stream backs up in a pond.” Hugh added, “Have to devise a gate, and that I do not see, with what we have to work with. Every problem leads straight to another. Damn.”
“Hugh, you’re counting your chickens before the cows come home.”
“I suppose so. Well, let’s go see how much the girls have dug while we loafed.”
The girls had dug little; Duke had returned with a miniature four-point buck. Barbara and Karen had it strung up against a tree and were trying to butcher it. Karen
teemed to have as much blood on her as there was on the ground.
They stopped as the men ap- proached. Barbara wiped her fore- head, leaving a red trail. “I hadn't realized they were so complicated inside.”
“Or so messy!” sighed Karen.
“With that size it’s easier on the ground.”
“Now he tells us. Show us, Dad- dy. We’ll watch.”
“Me? I’m a gentleman sportsman; the guide did the dirty work. But — Joe, can you lay hands on that little hatchet?”
“Sure. It’s sharp; I touched it up yesterday.”
Hugh split the breast bone and pelvic girdle and spread the carcass, then peeled out viscera and lungs and spilled them, while silently con- gratulating the girls on not having pierced the intestines. “All yours, girls. Barbara, if you can get that hide off, you might be wearing it soon. Have you noticed any oaks?”
“There are scrub forms. And su- mach, too. You’re thinking of tan- ning?”
“Yes.”
“I know how to extract it.”
“Then you know more about tan- ning than I do. I’ll bow out. There are books.”
“I know, I was looking it up. Doc! Don’t sniff at that boy.”
“He won’t eat it,” Joe assured her, “unless it’s good for him. Cats are fussy.”
While butchering was going on Duke and his mother crawled out and joined them. Mrs. Farnham seemed cheerful but did not greet
S7
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
Eyone; she simply looked at Duke’s 1. ’^Oh, the poor little thingl Duke 4ear» how did you have the heart to kiU it?”
“It sassed me and I got mad.” “It’s a pretty piece of venison, Duke,” Hugh said. “Good eating.” His wife glanced at him. “Perhaps you’ll eat it; I couldn’t bear to.” Karen said, “Have you turned vegetarian. Mother?”
“It’s not the same thir^g. I’m go- ii^ in, I don’t want that on me. Karen, don’t you dare come inside util you’ve washed; I won’t have you tracking blood in after I’ve rtaved away getting the place spot- less.” She headed toward the shel- ter. “Come inside, Duke.”
“In a moment, Mother.” Karen ftve the carcass an unnecessarily vicious cut.
“Where did you nail it?” Hugh
asked.
“Other side of the ridge. I should ksve been back sooner.”
“Why?”
“Missed an easy shot and splin- tered an arrow on a boulder. Buck faver. It has been years since I used a ‘bow season’ license.”
“One lost arrow, one carcass, is good hunting. You saved the arrow- head?”
“Of course. Do I look foolish?” Karen answered, “No, but I do. Buddy, I cleaned house. If Mother 4ld any cleaning, it was a mess she BMide herself.”
“I realized that.”
“And I’ll bet when she smells Biese steaks, she won’t want Spam!” Hugh moved away, agnal- iag Duke to follow.
*Tm ^d to see Grace looking cheerful. You must have soothed hn ”
Duke looked sheepish. “Well — As you pointed out, it’s rough, chopping it off completely.” He add- ed, “But I rationed her. I gave her one drink and told her she could have one more before dinner.” “That’s doing quite well.”
“I had better go inside. The bot- tle is there.”
“Perhaps you had.”
“Oh, it’s all right. I put her on her honor. You don’t know how to han- dle her. Dad.”
“That’s true. I don’t”
VI
From the Journal of Barbara Wells:
I am hobbled by a twisted ankle, so I am lying down and adding to this. I’ve taken notes every night — but in shorthand. I haven’t tran- scribed very much.
The longhand version goes in the fly leaves of the Britannica. There are ten blank pages in each volume, twenty-four volumes, and I’ll squeeze a thousand words to a page. 240,000 words. Enough to record our doings until we reclaim the art of making paper — especially as the longhand version will be censored.
Because I can’t let my hair down to anyone — and sometimes a gal needs to! This shorthand record is a diary which no one can read but me, as Karen is as poor at Gregg as she claimed.
Or perhaps Joe knows Gregg.
IF
Isn’t it requked in business colleges? But Joe is a gentleman and would not read this without invitation. I am fond of Joseph; his goodness is not a sham. I am sure he is keeping his lip buttoned on many unhappy thoughts; his position is as anoma- lous as mine and more difficult.
Grace has quit ordering him around — save that she orders all of us. Hugh gives orders, but for the welfare of all. Nor does he give many; we are settled in a routine. Tm the farmer, and plan my own work; Duke keeps meat on the table and gives me a hand when he doesn’t hunt; Hugh hasn’t told either of us what to do for a long time, and Karen has a free hand with the house. Hugh has about two centuries of mechanical work planned out and Joe helps him.
But^ Grace’s orders are for her own comfort. We usually carry them out; it’s easier. She gets her own way and more than her share, simply by being difficult.
She got the lion’s share of liquor. Liquor doesn’t matter to me; I rare- ly “need” a drink. But I enjoy a glow in company and had to remind my- self that it was not my liquor, it was Farnham liquor.
Grace finished her share in three days. Duke’s was next to go. And so on. At last all was gone save one quart of bourbon earmarked “me- dicinal.” Grace spotted where Duke had it and dug it up. When Duke came home, she was passed out and the bottle was dead.
The next three days were hor- rors. She screamed. She wept. She threatened suicide. Hugh and Duke
teamed up and one of them was al- ways with her. Hugh acquired a black eye, Duke got scratches dowB his handsome face. I understand they put a lot of B-1 into her and force-fed her.
On the fourth day she stayed in her bunk; the next day she got up and seemed almost normal.
But during lunch she asserted, ai something “everybody knows,” that the Russians had attacked because Hugh insisted on building a shelttf.
Duke says we must be patient I should not criticize Duke; ha is probably going to be my husband, I mean, who else is there? In this vicinity he is quite a catch.
(Polygamy? Of course I wouldl Even with Grace as senior wife. But I haven’t been asked.)
The trouble is, while I like Duke, no spark jumps. So I am putting it off and avoiding circumstances where he might pat me on the fan- ny. It would be a hell of a note if I married him and there came a night when I was so irritated at his moth- er and so vexed with him for in- dulging her that I would tell him coldly that he is not half the man his father is.
No, that must not happen. Duke does not deserve it.
Joe? My admiration for him is unqualified.
Joe is the first Negro I’ve had a chance to know well — and I think most well of him. He plays better contract than I do; I suppose he’s smarter than I am. The trouble with Joe is the same as with Duke: No spark jumps.
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
59
But J am fond of him — as a younger brother. He is never too busy to be accommodating. He is usually bear guard for Karen and me when we bathe and it’s a com- fort to know that Joe is alert — — Duke has killed five bears and Joe killed one while he was actually guarding us. It took three shots and dropped dead almost in Joe’s lap. He stood his ground.
We adjourned without worrying about modesty, which upset Joe more than bears do.
Or wolves, or coyotes, mountain lions, or a cat which Duke says is a mutated leopard and especially dangerous because it attacks by dropping out of a tree. We don’t bathe under trees and don’t venture out of our clearing without an man. It is as dangerous as crossing Wilshire against the lights.
It took three weeks to excavate under the house. Boulders! This area is a wide, flat saucer- shaped valley, with boulders most anywhere. Whenever we hit a big one, we dug around it and the men would worry it out with crowbar and block and tackle.
Mostly the men could get boul- ders out. But Karen found one that seemed to go down to China. Hugh looked it over and said, “Fine. Now dig a hole just north of it and deep- er.”
Karen just looked at him.
So we dug. And hit another big boulder. “Good,” said Hugh. “Dig another hole north of that one.”
We hit a third oversize boulder. But in three days the last one had
been tumbled into a hole next to iU the middle one had been worried into a hole where the last one had been, and the one that started the trouble was buried where the mid- dle one had been.
As fast as any spot had been cut deeply enough Hugh propped it up with pieces of log; he was worried lest the shelter shift and crush some- one. So when we finished the shel- ter had a forest of posts under it Hugh then set two very heavy posts under the uphill corners and smarted removing the inner ones, us- ing block and tackle. Sometimes they had to be dug under. Hugh was nervous during this and did ??} the rigging and digging himself.
At last the uphill half was sup- ported on these two big chunks. They would not budge.
There was so much weight on those timbers that they sneered at our efforts. I said, “What do we do now, Hugh?”
“Try the next-to-the-last resort.” “What’s the last resort?”
“Burn them. But it would take roaring fires and we would have to clear grass and bushes and trees for quite a distance. Karen, you know where the ammonia is. And the io- dine. I want both.”
I had wondered why Hugh had stocked so much ammonia. But he had, in used plastic Clorox bottles; the stuff had ridden through the shocks. I hadn’t known that iodine was stocked in quantity, too; I don’t handle the drugs.
Soon he had sort of a chemistry lab. “What are you making, Hugh?” 1 asked.
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IF
“Ersatz ‘dynamite.’ And I don’t need company,” he said. “The stuff is so touchy it explodes at a harsh look.”
“Sorry,” I said, backing away.
He looked up and smiled. “It’s safe until it dries. I had it in mind in case I ever found myself in an underground. Occupying troops take a sour view of natives having explosives, but there is nothing sus- picious about ammonia or iodine. The stuff is safe until you put it to- gether and does not require a prim- er. But I never expected to use k for construction; it’s too treacher- ous.”
“Hugh, I just remembered I don’t care whether a floor is level or not.”
“If it makes you nervous, take a walk.”
Making it was simple; he com- bined tincture of iodine and ordin- ary household ammonia; a precipi- tate settled out. This he filtered through Kleenex, the result was a paste.
Joe drilled holes into those stub- born posts; Hugh wrapped this mess in two batches, in paper, and packed a bundle into each hole, tamping with his finger. “Now we wait for it to dry.”
Everything that he used he flushed down with water, then took a bath with his clothes on, removed them in the water and left them, weighted down with rocks. That was all that day
Our armament includes two lovely ladies’ guns, .22 magnum rimfires with telescopic sights. Hugh had Duke and Joe sight them in.
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
The sighting-in was done with sand- bag rest — heaped up dirt, that vl Hugh had them expend five bulleli each, so I knew he was serious. “One bullet, one bear” is his motto.
When the explosive was dry, ev- erything breakable was removed from the shelter. We women were chased far back. Karen was charged with hanging onto Dr. Livingstone, and I had Duke’s bear rifle.
Duke and Joe were on their bel- lies a measured hundred feet from the posts. Hugh stood between them. “Ready for count?”
“Ready, Hugh.” — “Ready, Dad."
“Deep breath. Let part of it out Hold it, steady on target, take up the slack. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . ftreV*
A sound like a giant slammed door and the middle of each post disintegrated. The shelter stuck out like a shelf, then tilted ponderously down, touched, and was level.
Karen and I cheered; Grace start- ed to clap; Dr. Livingstone jumped down to investigate. Hugh turned bis head and grinned.
And the shelter tilted back the other way as the ridge crumbled; k started to slide. It pivoted on the tunnel protuberance, picked up speed and tobogganned down the slope. I thought it was going to end up in the creek.
But the slope leveled off; k ground to a stop, with the tunnel choked with dirt and the whole thing farther out of plumb than before!
Hugh picked up the shovel he had used to heap up shooting supports, walked down to the shovel, began to dig.
41
He was correct. The shelter wai level in a week, and this time he triggered the end posts with cross pieces; blasting was not needed. Best of all, the armor door cranked back without a murmur and we had air
I ran down, tears bursting from my eyes. Joe was there first. Hugh !ooked up and said, “Joe, dig out the tunnel. I want to know if any- thing is damaged and the girls will Vint to get lunch.”
“Boss — ” Joe choked out. “Boss! Oh, gosh!”
Hugh said, in a tone you use to Thild, “Why are you upset, Joe This has saved us work.”
I thought he had flipped. Joe said,
^Huhr
“Certainly,” Hugh assured him. “See how much lower the roof is? Every foot it dropped saves at least a hundred feet of aqueduct. And leveling will be simple here; the ground is loam and boulders are few. A week, with everybody pitch- ing in. Then we bring water to the house and garden two weeks early.”
and sunlight inside — it had been stuffy and candles made it pretty rank. Joe and Hugh started the ditch the same day. In anticipation of the glorious day Karen sketched on the walls of the tank room lifesize pic- tures of a wash stand, a bath tub, a pot.
Truthfully, we are comfortable. Two mattress covers Karen filled with dried grass; sleeping on the floor is no worse than the bunks. We sit in chairs and play our evening rubber at the table. It is amazing what a difference level floors make and how much better it is to have a
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door than to climb down a ladder and crawl out a hole.
Wc had to cook over a campfire a while as our grill and Dutch oven were smashed. Karen and I have thrown together a make-do because, as soon as water is led to the house, Hugh intends to start on ceramics, not only for a toilet and a sink but also for a stove vented out through the periscope hole. Luxury!
My corn is coming up beautiful- ly. 1 wonder what I can use to grind corn? The thought of hot corn bread makes me drool.
VII
Karen and Barbara were washing themselves, the day’s dishes, and the week’s laundry. Above them, Joe kept watch. Bushes and then trees had been cut away around the stretch they used for bathing; a predator could not approach with- out Joe having a clear shot at it. His eyes swung constantly, checking approaches. He wasted no seconds on the Elysian tableau he guarded.
Karen said, “Barbie, this sheet won’t stand another laundering.” “We need rags.”
“But what will we use for sheets? It’s this soap.” Karen scooped a handful from a bowl on the bank. It was soft and gray and harsh and looked like oatmeal mush. “The stuff eats holes.”
“I’m not fretted about sheets but I dread the day when we are down to our last towel.”
“Which will belong to mother.” Karen stated. “Our rationing officer will have some excellent reason.”
“Nasty, nasty. Karen, Duke has done a wonderful job.”
“I wasn’t bitching. Duke can’t help it. It’s his friend Eddie.” “‘Eddie?”
“Edipus Rex, dear.”
Barbara turned away and began rinsing a pair of ragged blue jeans. Karen said, “You dig me?” .
“We all have faults.”
“Sure, everybody but me. Even Daddy has a shortcoming. His neck pains him.”
Barbara looked up. “Is Hugh hav- ing trouble with his neck? Perhaps it would help if we massaged it.” Karen giggled. “Your weakness, sister mine, is that you wouldn’t know a joke if it bit you. Daddy is stiff-necked and nothing will cure it. He doesn’t have weaknesses and and that’s his weakness. Don’t frown. I love Daddy. I admire him. But I’m glad I’m not like him. I’ll take this load up to the thorn bush- es. Damn it, why didn’t Daddy stock clothes pins? Those thorns are as bad as the soap.”
“Clothes pins we can do without. Hugh did an incredible job. Every- thing from an eight-day clock — ” “Which got busted, right off.”
“ — to tools and seeds and books and I don’t know what. Karen! Don’t climb out naked!”
Karen stopped, one foot on the bank. “Nonsense. Old Stone Face won’t look. Humiliating, that’s what it is. I think I’ll yoo-hoo at him.” “You’ll do no such thing. Joe is being a gentleman under trying cir- cumstances. Karen, Joe is sweet. I wish you had heard him explain about Doc.”
FARKHAM'S FREEHOLD
63
“Explain what?” Karen asked.
“Well, Doc is beginning to accept me. I was holding Doc yesterday and noticed something and said, •Joe, Doc is getting terribly fat. Or was he always?’
“That was a time when he blushed. But he answered with sweet seriousness, ‘Barbara, Dr. Living- stone isn’t as much of a boy cat as he thinks he is. Old Doc is more a girl-type cat. That isn’t fat. Uh, you see — Doc is going to have babies.’ He blurted it out.”
Karen looked puzzled. “Come to think of it, I haven’t picked him up lately. Just petted him and tried to keep him out of things. Lately it hasn’t been safe to open a drawer; he’s into it. Looking for a place to have kittens of course. I should have twigged.”
“Karen, why do you keep saying •he’ and ‘him’?”
“‘Why?’ Joe told you. Doc thinks he is a boy cat — and who am I to argue? Mmm — Calendar girl, how long have we been here?”
“Sixty-two days. I’ve looked it up; it’s sixty days with a normal range to seventy.”
“So it’s any time now. I’ll bet you two back rubs that we are up all night tonight. Cats never have kit- tens at a convenient hours.” Karen abruptly began on the dishes.
Presently she said in a low voice, “Barbie, Doc won’t hand this household half the surprise I’m go- ing to.”
“How, hon?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Hm/i?”
**Ton beard me. Pregnant I had a tesC the froggie winked at me. HeO, Fm four months gone.” Karea direw herself into the arms of the older girl “And Fm scared!'"
Barbara hugged her. “Thwe, there, dear. It’s going to be all right.”
“The hell it is,” Karen blubbered. “Mother’s going to raise hell . . . and there aren’t any hospitals . . . nor doctors. Oh, why didn’t Duke study medicine? Barbie, I’m going to die. I know I am.”
“Karen, that’s silly. More babies have been born without doctors and hospitals than ever were wheeled into a delivery room. You’re not scared of dying, you’re scared of tell- ing your parents.”
“Well, that, too.” Karen wiped at her eyes and sniffed. I was going to. But the attack hit . . . and then Mother went to pieces . . . and Dad- dy has been loaded down with wor- ries and there’s never been the right time.”
“Karen, you aren’t scared to tell your father, just your mother.”
“Well . . .Mother mostly. But Daddy, too. Besides being shocked and hurt — he’ll think it was silly of me to get caught.”
“While he’s certain to be sur- prised, I doubt the other.” Barbara hesitated. “Karen, you needn’t take this alone. I can share it.”
“That’s what I had hoped. That’s why I asked you to come home with me. I told you.”
“I mean really share it. I’m preg- nant, too.”
^^What?"
“Yes. We can tell them together.”
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“Good Lord, Barbara! How did it happen?”
Barbara shrugged. “Careless. How did it happen to you?”
Karen suddenly grinned. “How? A bee sprinkled pollen on me; how else? ‘Who’ you mean.”
“‘Who’ I don’t care about. Your business. Well, dear? Shall we go tell them? I’ll do the talking.’’ “Wait a minute. You hadn’t planned to tell anybody? Or had you?”
“Why no,” Barbara answered truthfully, “I was going to wait until it showed.”
Karen looked at Barbara’s waist- line. “You don’t look it. And I do; I’ve been careful not to undress around Mother. Since you don’t, let’s hold that back and use it as a whammy if things get sticky.”
“If you like. Karen, tell Hugh first. Then let him tell your mother. And quit worrying. We’ll have our babies and won’t have any trouble and we’ll raise them together and it’ll be fun. We’ll be happy.” Karen’s eyes lit up. “And you’ll have a girl and Fll have a boy and we’ll marry them and be grand- mothers together!”
“That sounds more like Karen.” Barbara kissed her. “Run tell Hugh.”
Karen found Hugh bricking up the kiln; she told him that she would like a private talk.
“All right,” he agreed. “Let me tell Joe to get this fired up. I should inspect the ditch. Come along and talk?”
He gave her a shovel, carried a rifle. “Now what’s on your mind.”
“Let’s get farther away.” They walked a meandering distance. Hugh stopped, exchanged rifle for shovel, and built up a stretch of wall.
“Daddy? Perhaps you’ve noticed a shortage of men?”
“No. Three men and three wom- en. The usual division.”
“Perhaps I should say ‘eligible bachelors.’ ”
“Then say it.”
“All right, I’ve said it. I need advice.”
He placed another shovelful, tamped it. “Say what you want, baby. Perhaps I can help.”
“Hardly. I’m pregnant, Daddy.” He dropped the shovel, took her in both arms. “Oh, wonderful!” Presently she said, “Daddy ... I can’t shoot a bear with you hugging me.
He put her down, grabbed the rifle. *^Wherer
“Nowhere. But you’re always warning us.”
“Oh. All right, I’ll take over guard duty. Who’s the father. Karen? Duke? Oh Joe?”
“Neither. Earlier, at school.” “Oh. Still better!”
“How? Damn it. Daddy, this isn’t going the way it’s supposed to. A girl comes home ruined, her father is supposed to raise hell. All you say is, ‘Just dandy!’ You’ve got me con- fused.”
“Sorry. Under other circum- stances, I might feel that you had been careless. But don’t you see^ dear? You have almost doubled the chances of this colony surviving.” -He smiled. “I don’t feel like work- ing. Let’s go spread the good news.”
FARMHAM'S FREEHOLD
65
vm
Hugh leaned on his shovel. “That just about does it, Joe.”
"Let me tidy up around the gate.” They were at the upper end of their ditch where the stream had been dammed against the dry season. It Ihad been on them for weeks; the forest was sear, the heat oppressive. They were extremely caroful about fire.
But no longer so careful about bears. It was still standard practice to be armed, but Duke had killed so many carnivores, ursine and fe- line, they seldom saw one.
The water spilling over the dam was only a trickle but there was wa- ter for irrigation and for household needs. Without the ditch they would have lost their garden.
It was necessary every day or so to adjust the flow. Hugh had not built a water gate; paucity of tools, scarcity of metal, and a total lack of lumber had baffled him. Instead he had devised an expedient, 'fhe point where water was taken from the pond had been faced with brick and a spillway set of halfround tile. To increase the flow this was taken out, the spill cut deeper, bricks ad- justed, and tiles replaced. It was clumsy, it worked.
The bottom of the ditch was tiled all the way to house and garden; a minimum of water was lost. Their kiln had worked day and night; most of their capital gain had come out of the clay bank below the house and it was becoming difficult to dig good clay.
This did not worry Hugh; they
had almost everything they needed.
Their bathroom was no longer a joke. Water flowed in a two-stall trough toilet, partitioned with deer hide; tile drain pipe “leaded” with clay ran down the manhole, out the tunnel, and to a cesspool.
Forming drain pipe Hugh found very difficult. After many failures he had whittled a male form in three parts — in parts because it was nec- essary to shape the clay over it, let it dry enough to take out the form before it cracked from shrinking over the form.
With practice he cut his failures to about 25% in forming, 25% in firing.
The damaged water tank he had cut painfully, mallet and chisel, lengthwise into tubs, a bath tub in- doors and a wash tub outdoors. The seams he had caulked with shaved hide. The tubs did not leak — much.
A brick fireplace-oven filled one corner of the bath-kitchen. It was not in use; days were long and hot; they cooked outdoors and ate under an awning of empty bears — but it was ready against next rainy season.
Their house now had two stories. Hugh had concluded that an addi- tion strong enough to stop bears and tight enough to discourage snakes would have to be of stone, and solidly roofed. That he could do — but how about windows and doors? Glass he would make some day if he solved the problems of soda and lime. But not soon. A stout door and tight shutters he could manage but it would be stuffy.
So they had built a shed on the roof, a grass shack. Wth the laddw
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Bp, a bear faced a twelve-foot wall. Unsure that a wall would stop all their neighbors, Hugh had arranged trip lines around the edge so that disturbing them would cause an oxy- gen bottle to fall over. Their alarm was tripped the first week, scaring off the intruder. It had also, Hugh admitted, scared the bejasus out of him.
Anything that could not be hurt by weather had been moved out and the main room was rearranged into a women’s dormitory and nur- sery.
Hugh stared downstream while Joe finished fussing. He could make out the roof of his penthouse. Good enough, he mused. Every- thing was in fair shape and next year would be better. So much bet- ter that they might take time to ex- plore — even Duke had not been as much as twenty miles away. Nothing but feet for travel and too busy scratching to live —
Next year would be soon enough. man*s reach should exceed his grasp, or whafs a heaven for?** They had started with neither pot nor window. This year a pot. Next year a window? No hurry. Things were going well. Even Grace seemed contented, after one hor- rible day-long rant. He felt c^ain the would settle down and be a happy grandmother. Grace liked babies — how well he remembered.
Not long now. Karen was fuzzily vague but her guesses seemed to show that D-day was about two weeks off, and her condition matched her guess.
The sooner, the better! Hugh had studied everything in his library on pregnancy and childbirth; he made every preparation he could. His pa- tients seemed to be in perfect health, both had satisfactory pelvic measurements, both seemed una- fraid, and they helped each other not to gain too much weight, with friendly nagging. With Barbara to hold Karen’s hand, with Karen to hold Barbara’s hand, with Grace’s motherly experience to bolster them, Hugh could see no trouble ahead.
It would be wonderful to have babies in the house.
With a warm wave of euphoria Hugh Famham realized that he had never been so happy in his life.
44'^l^hat’s it, Hugh. Let’s catch A those tiles on the way back.”
“Okay. Take the rifle. I’ll car- ry the tools.”
“I think,” Joe said, “we ought to—”
His words chopped off at a gun- shot; they froze. It was followed by two more.
They ran.
Barbara was in the door. She held up a gun and waved, went inside. She came out before they reached the house, stepping carefully down off the stoop and moving slowly; she was very gravid. Her belly bulged huge in shorts made from worn-out jeans that had belonged to Duke; she wore a man’s shirt altered to support her breasts. She was bare- footed and no longer carried the gun.
Joe outdistanced Hugh, met her
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
near the house. “Karen?” he de- manded.
“Yes. She’s started. Grace is with her. But she wants you.”
“Let me catch my breath.” Hugh wiped his face, tried to control his trembling. He took a deep breath, held it, let it out slowly. He went inside, Barbara following.
The bunks near the door had been taken down. A bed stuck out into the doorway but space cleared by removing shelves left passage. One bunk was not a cot in the living cor- ner. The bed was padded with a grass mattress and a bear rug; a calico cat, one of Doc’s litter, was on it.
Hugh squeezed past, felt another cat brush his ankles. He went into the other bay. The bunks there had been rebuilt into a bed across the end; Karen was in bed, Grace was seated, fanning her, and Joe stood by with an air of grave concern.
Hugh smiled at his daughter. “Hi, Fatty!” He stooped and kissed her. “How are you? Hurting?”
“Not now. But I’m glad you’re here.”
“We hurried.”
A cat jumped up, landing on Kar- en. “Unh! Damn you, Maggie!”
“Joe,” said Hugh, “round up the cats and put them in Coventry.” The tunnel mouth had been bricked up, but with air holes, and a cat door which could be filled with a large brick. The cats had a low opinion of this but it had been built after Hap- py New Year had become missing and presumed dead.
Karen said, “Daddy, 1 want Mag- gie with me!”
“Joe, make that all but Maggie. When we get busy, grab Maggie an4 shut up her, too.”
“Daddy, you should have been a doctor.”
“1 am a doctor. The best doctor in the world.”
As he left the house he encoun- tered Duke, soaked from a long run. “I heard three shots. Sis?”
“Yes. No hurry, labor has just started. I’m about to take a bath. Want to join me?”
“I want to say hello to Sis first.** “Hurry up; they’re about to bathe her. And grab Joe; he’s incarcerat- ing cats. They’ll want us out of the way.”
“Shouldn’t we be boiling water?” “Do so, if it will calm you. Duke, my O. B. kit, such as it is, has been ready for a month. There are six jars of boiled water, for this and that. Go kiss your sister and don’t let her see that you’re worried.” “You’re a cold fish. Dad.”
“Son, I’m scared silly. I can list thirteen major complications — and I’m not prepared to cope with any of them. Mostly I pat her hand and tell her that everything is dandy — and that’s what she needs. I ex- amine her, solemn as a judge, and don’t know what to look for. It’s just to reassure her . . . and I’ll thank you to help out.
Duke said soberly, “I will, sir. I’ll kid her along.”
“Don’t overdo it. Just let her see that you share her confidence in old Doc Farnham.”
“I will.”
“If Joe gets the jitters, get him out. He’s the worst. Grace is doing
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IF
fine. Hurry up or they won’t let you in.”
All that hot and weary day the woman brought to bed fought to void herself of her burden, white- faced and shrieking, belly hardening with each attempt, muscles in arms and neck standing out as she strained — then fell back limp as the con- traction died away, tired and trem- bling, not speaking, uninterested in anything but the ordeal.
It got steadily worse. Contrac- tion became three minutes apart; each one longer and seemed to hurt more.
At nine that night there was bleeding. Grace became frantic; she had heard many stories of the dan- gers of hemorrhage. Hugh assured her that it was normal and showed that the baby would arrive soon. He believed it, as it was not massive and did not continue — and it did not seem possible that birth could be far away.
Grace looked angry and got up; Barbara slipped into the chair she vacated. Hugh hoped that Grace would rest — the women had been taking turns.
But Grace returned a few minutes later. “Hubert,” she said in a high, brittle voice. “Herbert, Fm going to call a doctor.
“Do that,” he agreed, his eyes on Karen.
“You listen to me, Hubert Farn- ham. You should have called a doc- tor at once. You’re killing her, you hear me? Fm going to call a doctor — and you are not going to stop me.”
"Yes, Grace. The telephone is m there.” He pointed into the other wing. Grace looked puzzled, then turned suddenly and went away. ‘^Duker
His son hurried in. “Yes, Dad?”
Hugh said forcefully, “Duke, your mother has decided to telephone for a doctor. You go help her. Do you understand?^^
Duke’s eyes widened. “Where are the needles?”
“In the smaller bundle on the table. Don’t touch the large bundle; it’s sterile.”
“Got it. What dosage?”
“Two c.c. Don’t let her see the needle, or she’ll jerk” Hugh’s head jerked; he realized that he was grog- gy. “Make that three c.c.; I want her to go out like a light and sleep until morning. She can tolerate it.”
“Right away.” Duke left.
Karen had been lying quiet be- tween contractions, apparently in semi-coma. Now she whispered, “Poor Daddy. Your women give you a lot of grief.”
“Rest, dear.”
“I — Oh, God, here it comes again!”
Around down — it seemed to Hugh that the torture had been going on for weeks but his watch showed that Karen had been in labor eighteen hours — Barbara said ur- gently, “Hugh, she can’t take any more.”
“I know,” he admitted, looking at his daughter. She was at the peak of a pain, face gray and contorted, mouth squared in agony, high sob- bing moans filling the room.
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
6f
•*Well? We have to do something.” “I suppose she should have had a Caesarean But I’m no surgeon.” “I wonder.”
“I don’t. I’m not.”
‘^You know more about it than the first man who ever did one! You know how to keep it sterile. We have sulfa drugs and you can load her up with demerol.” She did not try to keep Karen from hear- ing; their patient was beyond car- ing.
“No.”
“Hugh, you must. She’s dying.”
“I know.” He sighed. “But it’s too late for a Caesarean, even if I knew how. To save Karen with one, I mean. We might save her baby.” He blinked and swayed. “Only it would not. Who*s to wet-nurse? You can’t, not yet. And cows we don’t have.”
He took a deep breath, tried to get a grip on himself. “Only one thing left. Try to get it out Eskimo style.”
“What’s that?”
“Get her up and let gravity help. Maybe it’ll work. Call the boys, we’ll need them. I’ve got to scrub again; I might have to do an episi- otomy. Oh, God.”
Five minutes and two contrac- tions later they were ready to try it. When Karen lay back exhausted after the second one, Hugh tried to explain what they were going to do. It was hard to get her attention.
At last she nodded slightly and whispered, “I don’t care.”
Hugh went to the table where his equipment was now opened out, and got his one scalpel, took the camp
lamp in his other hand. ‘*AI1 right, boys. As soon as she starts, pick her up.”
They had only seconds to wait. Hugh saw the contraction start, nod- ded to Duke. “Nowl”
“With me, Joe.” They started to lift her, each with an arm under her back, a hand under a thigh.
Karen screamed and fought them off. “No, no! Don’t touch me — / can*t stand it! Daddy, make them stop! DaddyV*
They stopped. Duke said, “Dad?” “Lift her up! Now!”
They got her high in a squatting position, thighs pulled open. Bar- bara got behind Karen, arms around her, and pressed down on the girl’s tortured belly. Karen screamed and struggled; they held her fast.
Hugh barely had time to get to the floor before he had both hands full of wet, slippery, bloody baby. He knew there was something else he should do now but all he could think of was to get it by both feet in his left hand, lift it and slap its tiny bottom.
It let out a choked wail.
“Get her on the bed, boys — but easy! It’s still fastened by the cord.” They made it, Hugh on his knees and burdened with a feebly wiggling load. Once they had Karen down, Hugh started to put her baby in her arms — but saw that Karen was not up to it. She seemed to be awake. Her eyes were open. But she was in total collapse.
Hugh was close to collapse. He looked dazedly around, handed the baby to Barbara. “Stay close.”
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IF
“Dad?” said Duke. “Aren’t you supposed to cut the cord?”
“Not yet.” Where was that knife? He found it, rubbed it quickly with iodine — hoped that it was sterile. Placed it by two boiled lengths of cotton string — turned and felt the cord to see if it was pulsing.
“He’s beautiful,” Joe said softly. “She,” Hugh corrected. “The baby is a girl. Now, Barbara, if you — ” He broke off. Suddenly every- thing happened too fast. The baby started to choke; Hugh grabbed it, turned it upside down, dug into its mouth, scooped out a plug of mucus, handed the baby back, started again to check the cord — saw that Karen was in trouble.
With a nightmare feeling that he needed to be twins he got one of the strings, tied a square knot around the cord near the baby’s belly, trying to control his trembling so as not to tie it too hard — started to tie the second, saw that it was not needed;
FARNHAM^S FREEHOLD
Karen suddenly delivered the pla centa and was hemorrhaging. She moaned.
With one slash Hugh cut the cord snapped at Barbara, “Get a bell> band on it!” — turned to take care of the mother.
She was flowing like a river; her face was gray and she seemed lui' conscious. Too late to attempt tc take stitches. This flood was from in- side. He tried to stop it by packing her with their last roll of gauze while shouting to Joe and to Duke to ge a belly band compress on Karen himself to put pressure on her uter us.
Some agonized time later tfu belly compress was in place. Hugh raised his eyes and looked at Karen’s face — then in sudden panic tric( to find her pulse.
Karen had survived the birth her daughter by less than sever minutes. The child lingered for a few hours, then joined her.
f\
X
They went on. Duke hunted, Duke and Joe farmed, Hugh worked harder than ever. Grace worked, too, and her cooking im- proved— and her eating; she got fatter. She never mentioned her con- viction that her husband had been responsible for the death of their daughter.
She did not speak to him at all. When a problem had to be discussed she spoke to Duke. She quit attend- ing even their church services.
In the last month of Barbara’s pregnancy Duke sought out nis fa- ther, privately. “Dad, you told me that any time I wanted to leave — or any of us — we could.”
Hugh was startled. “Yes.”
“A pro-rata share, you said. Am- mo, tools, and so forth.”
“Better than that; we’re a going concern. Duke, you are leaving?” “Yes — but not just myself. Moth- er wants to. She’s the one who’s dead set on it. I’ve got reasons, but Mother’s wishes are the deciding factor.”
“Mmm. Let’s talk about your rea- sons. Are you dissatisfied with the way I’m running things? I will glad- ly step aside. I feel sure that I can get Joe and Barbara to go along, so
that you will have unanimous sup- port.” He sighed. “I am anxious to turn over the burden.”
Duke shook his head. “That’s not it, Dad. I don’t want to be boss and you’ve done a good job. Oh, I won’t say I liked the high-handed way you started in. But results count and you got results. I’d rather not discuss my reasons except to say that