“A neighbor,” Harvey said. “And two employees.”
“I see. And you came from Los Angeles. Do you know conditions in L.A.?”
“They do,” Harvey said. He indicated Mark and Joanna. “They saw the tidal wave come in.”
“I can let two of you come up,” Hardy said. “No more.”
“Then it’s none,” Harvey said. He said it quickly, before he could say something else. “Thanks, and we’ll be on our way—”
“Wait.” Hardy looked thoughtful. “Okay. Hand me the shotgun. Slow, and don’t point it at me.” He took the weapon and handed it to the original guard, who’d also dismounted. “Any more firearms?”
“This pistol.” Harvey showed the Olympic target gun.
“My, but that’s pretty. Give it to me, too. You’ll get them back if you’re not staying.” Hardy took the weapon and thrust it into his belt. “Now make room for me in the back seat.”
He climbed into the back seat, leaned out to speak so the others could hear. “You follow on that bike,” he told Mark. “Stay close. I’m taking them up, Gil. It’s all right.”
“If you say so,” the original guard said.
“Let’s go,” Hardy told Randall. “Drive carefully.”
The gate swung open and Harvey drove through, followed by Mark, then, further behind, by the third man on horseback leading the other two horses.
“Why not leave a horse for the guard?” Harvey asked.
“We have more cars than horses. Rather lose a car if some damn fool tries anything,” Hardy explained.
Harvey nodded. And the car was there, if anything urgent had to get up the hill. Obviously his message hadn’t been thought urgent enough to waste gasoline on.
The TravelAII walked through the thick mud, and Harvey wondered just how long this drive would last. He went past the foreman’s home and toward the big house at the top of the hill. The orange groves looked pitiful, many of the trees down from the high winds — but there was no fruit on the ground. Harvey approved.
Maureen wasn’t in the big front room. Senator Jellison was. He had maps spread across the big dining table, and lists and other papers covered card tables nearby. A bottle of bourbon stood on the table. It was nearly full.
They left their boots out on the porch and came into the big stone house. The Senator stood. He didn’t offer his hand. “I’ll give you a drink if you’ll recognize in advance that it’s not permanent,” Jellison said. “Long time ago, if you offered a man food and drink, that said you’d keep him as a guest. That’s not decided yet.”
“I understand,” Harvey said. “I could use a drink.”
“Right. Al, take the women back to the kitchen stove. They’ll appreciate a chance to dry off. Excuse my manners, ladies, I’m a bit rushed just now.” He waited until the girls were gone, then waved Harvey into a seat. Mark stood uncertainly at the door. “You too,” Jellison said. “Drink?”
“You know it,” Mark said. When the bottle was given to him, he poured an enormous drink into his glass. Harvey grimaced and examined the Senator’s face. There was no change of expression.
“Is Maureen all right?” Harvey asked.
“She’s here,” Jellison said. “Where’s your wife?”
Harvey felt himself flushing. “Dead. Murdered. She was in the house when some people decided to rob it. If you get word of a blue van escorted by chopped motorcycles…”
“Not on my list of priorities. Sorry about Mrs. Randall, though. So who’ve you got with you?”
“The tall woman is Marie Vance, my neighbor. Gordie Vance is at Quaking Aspen with a scout troop. He’s got my son, I’ve got his wife.”
“Uh-huh. She’s elegant. Can she hike, or are those boots for show?”
“She can hike. She can also cook. And I can’t leave her.”
“Cooks I have. The others?”
“They saved my ass. I was ready to lie down and die after I found Loretta.” The whiskey warmed him, and Harvey felt the intensity of the Senator’s questioning. The man was judge and jury, and he wasn’t going to take long to make his decision. “Mark and Joanna found me and carried me along till I came back to life. They brought Marie, too. They’re with me.”
“Sure. Okay, what are you trading?”
Harvey shrugged. “A TravelAII I know how to use. Some… hell, a lot of experience surviving — backpacking, war correspondent, helicopter pilot…”
“You were in L.A. You saw it?”
“Mark and Joanna did. We have information, if that’s useful.”
“Information is worth a meal and a drink. You’re telling me if I let you in, the others stay too.”
“Yes. I’m afraid that’s it. We’ll do our share, assuming you can feed us.”
Jellison looked thoughtful. “You’ve got one vote,” he said. “Maureen’s. But it’s mine that counts.”
“I figured that. I gather you aren’t exactly welcoming refugees. The bridge and all—”
“Bridge?”
’The big one over an arm of the lake. Just after the dam went—”
“Dam’s gone?” Jellison frowned. “Al!” he shouted.
“Yes, sir?” Hardy came in quickly. His hand was in his raincoat pocket. It bulged. He relaxed at the sight of the three men seated in chairs, drinking calmly.
“He says the dam’s gone,” Jellison said. “Any word brought in on that?”
“Not yet.”
“Yeah.” Jellison nodded significantly. Hardy seemed to understand what he meant. “Now tell me about the bridge,” Jellison said.
“Two men blew it up, just after the dam went. Dynamite, both ends.”
“I will be dipped in shit. Describe the men.” Jellison listened, then nodded. “Right. Christophers. We may have trouble with them.” He turned toward Mark. “Army?” he asked.
“Navy,” Mark said.
“Basic? Can you shoot?”
“Yes, sir.” Mark began one of his tales about ’Nam. It might or might not have been true, but Jellison wasn’t listening.
“Can he?” he asked Randall.
“Yes. I’ve seen him,” Harvey said. He began to relax, to feel the knots unwind in his neck. It looked good, it looked as if the Senator might want him…
“If you stay here, you’re on my team,” Jellison said. “Nobody else’s. Your loyalty is to me.”
“Understood,” Harvey said.
Jellison nodded. “We’ll give it a try.”
As the Mediterranean waters recede from the drowned cities of Tel Aviv and Haifa, rainstorms lash the highlands of the Sudan and Ethiopia. Floodwaters cascade down the Nile to smash against the High Aswan Dam, already weakened by the earthquakes following Hammerfall. The dam bursts, joining 130 million acre-feet of water to the flooded river. The waters smash across the Nile Delta, through the ancient cities, across Cairo. The Great Pyramid is undermined and falls beneath the torrent.
Ten thousand years of civilization are scooped up and carried with the water. From the First Cataract to the Mediterranean Sea, nothing lives in the Delta of the Nile.
Beggar Man
Eileen slept with her seat tilted back to horizontal, her seat belt loose about her. She rolled with the motion of the car. Once Tim heard the beginnings of a snore. He reached over and tightened her belt when they started on the long downgrade. Then he switched the motor off.
He remembered his driver had done that in Greece. Everyone coasted down hills in Greece. Even down the twisted narrow road from Delphi across Parnassus to Thermopylae. That had been terrifying, but the driver insisted. Greece had the most expensive gasoline in the world.