''If we live that long,'' Sam added sourly.
Kris and Tommy got the samples of their boat into bottles and capped them. One had quite a bit of mud in with the metal. Well, that was Olympia for you. Kris looked around for another sample, but in just the time it took to do that, all evidence that a river dory had ever been here was gone.
''Let's get the supplies out of the rain,'' Sam drawled. ''If we're going to drown before morning, we might as well do it on a full stomach.''
''I never took you for an optimist, Sam,'' Jose said.
''A year of gray skies, dead cows, crop failure, and cabin fever, then this fever, would make even you throw in the towel.''
''Maybe. You heard the man, let's get some food up to these folks. Hungry people don't make good decisions, and the water is rising.'' The boat crew loaded up what they had, helped by a dozen ranch hands that were there or materialized out of the rain and fog. The new arrivals were quiet. The ranchers seemed to return to an interrupted conversation.
''I say we build some rafts. We still got two houses left. Tear down their walls and use ‘em to float downriver.''
''They're wood and plaster walls, Ted. They'd never last an hour on the river. Besides, out there is no place for anything less than a full boat. What you say to that, Jose?''
''It's bad out there. I wouldn't say you couldn't make it. Who knows, miracles happen.''
''I'm not trusting my Candi's life to no miracle. I say we climb the cliffs. We used to do that when we was young.''
''Yeah. I got all the way up to the top when I was ten.'' ''When was the last time you tried to climb a fence, Bill?'' That ended that part of the conversation with a snort.
''Besides, we all climbed up Lucky's Trail. Water's eight feet deep between here and there,'' Sam pointed out.
''All we got left is Lover's Leap, and nobody's climbed that one.''
''Where is it?'' Akuba asked quietly.
''Right behind us,'' Sam said.
Akuba aimed his light beam. Through the rain and mist Kris could just make out a rocky face with an occasional stunted tree. Muddy water ran down it. The light flicked out. ''Bitch of a climb,'' came from Nabil.
''We got some rope. You got any?'' Akuba asked.
''Some.''
They reached two structures. One was a small cow barn. Four cows, rain streaming off them, looked morosely at the shelter they'd been evicted from. The other was an even smaller one-room house. ''Honeymooners stayed here their first year, if they wanted.'' Sam supplied the answer before Kris asked. ''Let's see if we can get some food warming before we wake anyone up.''
Maybe two dozen were asleep on the floor, mostly young or elderly folks. Three women lay in the one bed, sheened with fevered sweat, while two others tried to comfort them. The medic headed that way while Kris followed Sam to the kitchen area and began heating standard field rations. The smell of coffee brought people in. They quietly got what they could, then disappeared back out into the rain.
Once things were moving along, Sam tapped Kris on the elbow. ''We need to talk.''
Kris followed him to the kitchen table. Sam, Karen, his wife, and a big fellow who introduced himself as Brandon and tried to crush Kris's hand, took three of the chairs, leaving the fourth for Kris.
''So, what do we do?'' Brandon asked.
Kris paused, waiting for Sam or his wife to say something, but they were all looking at her. ''My medic is taking care of your Grearson cases as best as he can. In a few minutes he'll start giving inoculations to all of you. After that…'' Kris left that hanging.
''After that, we die,'' Brandon snapped.
''No,'' Karen insisted.
''Yes we do,'' Brandon shot back. Around the room others stood against the wall or settled onto the floor. Everyone awake in the house was watching the four at the table, waiting to see what their fate would be. ''Face it,'' Brandon said, turning to face the listeners more than those at the table. ''The water's been rising an inch or two an hour. By dawn, it's gonna be in here up to your ankles. There ain't no cavalry coming to the rescue. The damn Navy's already here, and you can see she's in the same mess we are. That was a really cute trick making the boat go away, even for a Longknife.''
''As you said, I'm in the same boat, or lack of it, that you are,'' Kris put in. ''But I'm not going to be dead come morning.''
Brandon snorted derisively. ''There a helicopter gonna come and take you away, baby cakes. Didn't anyone tell you? With all the acid in our rain, they sold all the airplanes and other nice toys off world. Has your Navy brought some back?''
''No,'' Kris said, unwilling to lie to any of the people watching her. She looked around at them, hoping to see in their eyes that they were counting on her, no matter how heavy the burden, to get them out of this mess. What she saw was blank hopelessness, as if they already saw themselves dead. Kris gulped; these people weren't looking to her for hope, only that last bit of approval so they could quit.
''So, here we are in the twenty-fourth century, and we got nothing but our own two hands to save us, and little sister, we've worked ours to the bone, and we ain't saved ourselves. If we're gonna die, I say we take this whole mud ball with us.''
That absurd statement didn't even elicit a shuffling of feet among the onlookers. Kris glanced at Sam and Karen. They were looking at the table, eyes as dead as the drowned cows Kris had pushed off from the boat on the way up here. How could anyone become so hopeless? Helpless?
''Why shouldn't we take this planet down with us?'' Brandon continued. ''They didn't do anything for us. And you all know about the offer Sam's got. Does little Miss Longknife know? Maybe your grandpa made Sam the offer.''
''I know little about my Grandfather Alex's business. In case you missed it, I'm a boot ensign in the Navy and up a muddy river at the moment without a paddle.'' Come on folks, laugh, smile, show some emotions.
The people around Kris just stared at the floor.
''Sam's been offered a penny on the dollar for this place, Navy. What do you say to that? When all this is over, we're gonna be just a bunch of wage slaves like the factory-workers back on Earth. I sure as hell don't want to live that way.''
So that was it. Kris swallowed hard; they'd worked all their lives, and now they were losing it. They'd worked under the open sky, and now that sky was falling on them. They'd asked for nothing, got nothing, and now all guys like Brandon had was a mad to hold on to as the river rose. And the fever now gave Brandon someone to aim his mad at. Kris slowly turned in her chair, studying the people standing along the walls, slumped onto the floor. They were beat, at the end of their hope, and waiting for it to end. Okay, Ensign Longknife, how you going to make them want to fight for what's left of their lives? Talk about a leadership challenge.
''You want to die?'' Kris asked a woman who made eye contact with her for a moment. The woman flinched and dropped her eyes back to the floor.
''Is that it?'' Kris said to a man standing along the wall. ''You just want to lie down in the mud and let the river take you?''
He shrugged. A baby, only a few months old, let out a cry. Her mother rocked her gently, then offered a breast to nurse.
''You ready to drown that baby?'' Kris asked, hard and unwavering.
''No,'' the mother answered, tears in her eyes.
''Well you better get ready, because that's what this guy is talking about.'' Kris stood. ''Okay, you've got it bad, probably a lot worse than anyone else in human space right now.'' She turned slowly in her place, staring hard at each face as she passed it by, demanding that they look at her, listen to her.
''When Sam's dad came here fifty years back, there were lots of corporations ready to stake him …for half ownership, for real control over him. He held out, got a loan…and paid it back. I bet he paid it back early,'' she guessed. Apparently right because she got a proud nod from Sam, a scowl from Brandon.