Rick shrugged. He’d been thinking of the far future, weeks, months ahead, and had almost managed to forget why they had come to the Senator’s Stronghold just now. “It’s got to be,” Rick said, and now he felt it too, the tension that Pieter and Leonilla had brought with them. It had never occurred to Rick that the Senator wouldn’t have enough strength. He’d been so sure that somewhere there were civilized men and women, real safety and civilization and order… .
And maybe there wasn’t any. Anywhere. Rick shuddered slightly, but he kept his smile in place, and the three of them sat in the paneled room, waiting and hoping.
“They call themselves the New Brotherhood Army,” said Deke. He looked around him — at Harvey Randall and Al Hardy and General Johnny Baker, George Christopher, who sat far to one side of the room, and Senator Jellison in his judge’s chair — and his eyes were haunted. He drank from his glass, and waited a minute while the whiskey worked its ancient magic, and said in a firmer voice, “They also claim to be the legal government of California.”
“By what authority?” Al Hardy demanded.
“Well, their proclamation was signed by the Lieutenant Governor. ‘Acting Governor,’ he calls himself now.”
Hardy frowned. “The Honorable James Wade Montross?”
“That’s the name,” Deke said. “Could I have some more of that whiskey?”
Hardy looked to the Senator, got a nod and refilled Deke’s glass. “Montross,” Al said musingly. “So The Screwball survived.” He looked to the others and added quickly, “An insider’s joke. In politics we usually have nicknames for people. The Loser. Grin and Bear It. Montross got tagged as The Screwball.”
“Screwball or not, he’s given me seven days to join his government,” Deke said. “Otherwise his New Brotherhood Army will take the whole place by force.” The farmer opened his Army-surplus field jacket and took a paper from an inner pocket. The paper was mimeographed, but the lettering was hand-drawn, in fine calligraphy. He handed it to Al Hardy, who glanced at it, then gave it to Senator Jellison.
“That’s Montross’s signature,” Hardy said. “I’m sure of it.”
Jellison nodded. “We can treat the signature as genuine.” He looked up to include everyone in the conversation. “The Lieutenant Governor proclaims a state of emergency and asserts what amounts to supreme authority within California,” he said.
George Christopher growled, a harsh grating sound. “Over us, too?”
“Everyone,” Jellison said. “He mentions the Colorado Springs announcement, too. Do you know anything about that, General Baker?”
Johnny Baker nodded. He sat next to Harvey Randall, but he didn’t seem to be part of the group in the room. The old gods have returned, Harvey thought. For the moment, anyway. How long will they be gods? Harvey had seen Baker with Maureen, and hated it.
“We caught a broadcast out of Colorado Springs,” Baker said. “I’m sure it was genuine. It was in the name of the Speaker of the House—”
“A senile idiot,” Al Hardy said.
“—who is acting as President,” the astronaut continued. “His chief of staff seems to be a brevet lieutenant general named Fox. I think that’s Byron Fox, and if it is, I know him. One of the professors at the Academy. Good man.”
George Christopher had been quietly fuming. Now he spoke, his voice low and full of anger. “Montross. That son of a bitch. He was around here a couple of years ago trying to organize the pickers. Came right onto my land! I couldn’t even throw the trespassing bastard off. He had fifty state cops with him.”
“I’d say Jimmy Montross has quite a lot of legal power,” Senator Jellison said. “He is the highest-ranking civil officer in California. Assuming the Governor’s dead, and he probably is.”
“Sacramento’s gone, then?” Johnny Baker asked.
Al Hardy nodded. “As far as we can tell, that area’s all underwater. Harry took a sweep north and west a couple of weeks ago and met somebody who’d talked to people who tried to get to Sacramento. All they found was more of the San Joaquin Sea.”
“Damn,” Baker said. “Then the nuclear power plant’s gone.”
“Yes. Sorry,” Hardy said.
“Deke, you’re not going to knuckle under to this goddam Montross, are you?” George Christopher demanded.
“I came here to ask for help,” Wilson said. “They can whip us. That army of his is big.”
“How big?” Al Hardy asked.
“Big.”
“Something puzzles me,” Senator Jellison said. “Deke, are you certain that the cannibal band you fought is part of this outfit that Montross is associated with?”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“Now don’t get upset.” The Senator’s famous charm was suddenly evident. “It just surprised me, that’s all. Montross was a screwball, but he wasn’t crazy. Or stupid, for that matter. He championed the underdog—”
There was a growl from Christopher.
“—or so he claimed,” Jellison continued smoothly. “But I wouldn’t have thought he’d be friendly with cannibals.”
“Maybe they’re holding him prisoner,” Al Hardy suggested.
Jellison nodded. “The point I was about to make. In which case he has no legal authority at all.”
“Legal, shmegal, what do I do?” Deke Wilson asked. “I can’t fight him. Will you people help me? I don’t want to give in to them—”
“Don’t blame you,” Christopher said.
“It’s not just the cannibals,” Deke said. “They may give that up if they can get… other food. But some of those messengers!”
“How big a party did they send?” Hardy asked.
“About two hundred camped down the road from us,” Deke said. “They sent in a dozen. All armed. General Baker saw them. A captain of state police—”
“No shit?” Christopher exclaimed. “State cops with the cannibals?”
“Well, he wore the uniform,” Deke said. “And some guy who’d been an official in Los Angeles, a black man. And others. Most of them were okay, but two were… hell, they were weird!” He looked to Baker and got a nod of agreement.
“Really weird,” Deke continued. “Acted like they were on dope. The eyes looked like that, wide, you know, and they wouldn’t look straight at you. And they talked about the angels of the Lord. ‘The angels have sent us to deliver this message.’ ”
“How did the others react to that?” Harvey Randall asked.
“Like nothing happened. Like it was normal to talk about the angels sending them. And when I asked what the hell that meant, they just turned and left. ‘You have the message.’ That’s all they’d say.”
“And you said there were two hundred camped near you?” Al Hardy asked. “How near? Where?”
“Not far. South, down the road,” Deke said. “Why?”
“Harry went out your way,” Hardy said. “He’s not overdue, he doesn’t keep any exact schedule, but we’ve been expecting him.”
“He never got to my place,” Deke said.
“Do you think this outfit has done anything to Harry?” Jellison asked.
Deke shrugged. “Senator, I don’t know what to make of those people. They claim to have a lot more troops than the ones they let us see, and I believe it. We don’t see traders anymore. No refugees. It’s like there’s nobody out there except you and the New Brotherhood.”
“Angels,” Al Hardy said. “It doesn’t make much sense.”
Not neat, Harvey Randall thought. Not neat at all, and it disturbs Al. “I met Montross a few times,” Harvey said. “He didn’t seem crazy to me. He was hyped up on the subject of environmentalism. Spray cans destroying the ozone, that kind of thing. Maybe the Hammer drove him over the edge.”
“He may be crazy, he may be a prisoner, anything could be,” Deke Wilson said. “But there’s two hundred men camped down the road, I’d bet they’ve got five hundred more, and I don’t know what the hell to do.”