Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [164]
Breakfast wasn't much. They shared with Harry, which was pretty damned generous of them. The Lilly children, eight and ten, stared at the adults. One of them complained that the TV wasn't working. No one paid any attention.
"Now what?" Freehafer asked.
"We get food," Doris Lilly said. "We have to find something to eat."
"Where do you suggest we look?" Bill Freehafer asked. He wasn't being sarcastic.
Doris shrugged. "In town? Maybe things aren't as bad as … maybe they're not so bad."
"I want to watch TV," Phil Lilly said.
"Not working," Doris said absently. "I vote we go to town and see how things are. We can give Harry a ride—"
"TV now!" Phil screamed.
"Shut up," his father said.
"Now!" the boy repeated.
Smack! Norman Lilly's huge hand swept against the boy's face.
"Norm!" his wife cried. The child screamed, more in surprise than pain. "You never hit the children before—"
"Phil," Lilly said. His voice was calm and determined. "It's all different now. You better understand that. When we tell you to be quiet, you'll be quiet. You and your sister both, you've got a lot of learning to do, and quick. Now go in the other room."
The children hesitated for a moment. Norman raised his hand. They looked at him, startled, then ran.
"Little drastic," Bill Freehafer said.
"Yeah," Norm said absently. "Bill, don't you think we better look in on our neighbors?"
"Let the police—" Bill Freehafer stopped himself. "Well there might still be police."
"Yeah. Who'll they take orders from, now?" Lilly asked. He looked at Harry.
Harry shrugged. There was a local mayor. The Sheriff was out in the San Joaquin, and with this rain that could be under water. "Maybe the Senator?" Harry said.
"Hey, yeah, Jellison lives over the hill there," Freehafer said. "Maybe we should … Jesus, I don't know, Norm. What can we do?"
Lilly shrugged. "We can look, anyway. Harry, you know those people?"
"Yes … "
"We have two cars. Bill, you take everybody else into town. Harry and I'll have a look. Right?"
Harry looked dubious. "I've already left their mail—"
"Jesus," Bill Freehafer said.
Norman Lilly held up an immense hand. "He's right, you know. But look at it this way, Harry. You're a mailman."
"Yes-"
"Which can be damned valuable. Only there won't be any mail. Not letters and magazines, anyway. But there's still a need for message carriers. Somebody to keep communications going. Right?"
"Something like that," Harry agreed.
"Good. You'll be needed. More than ever. But here's your first post-comet message. To the Romans, from us. We're willing to help, if we can. They're our neighbors. But we don't know them, and they don't know us. If they've had trouble they'll be watching for strangers. Somebody's got to introduce us. That's a worthwhile message, isn't it?"
Harry thought it over. It made sense. "You'll give me a ride after—"
"Sure. Let's go." Norm Lilly went out. He came back with a deer rifle, and the automatic pistol. "Ever use one of these, Harry?"
"No. And I don't want one. Wrong image."
Lilly nodded and laid the pistol on the table.
Bill Freehafer started to say something, but Lilly's look cut it off. "Okay, Harry, let's go," Norm said. He didn't comment when Harry carried his mailbag to the car.
They got in. They'd gone halfway when Harry patted his bag and, half laughing himself, said, "You're not laughing at me."
"How can I laugh at a man who's got a purpose in life?"
They pulled up at the gate. The letters were gone from the mailbox. The padlock was still in place. "Now what?" Harry asked.
"Good questi—"
The shotgun caught Norm Lilly full in the chest. Lilly kicked once and died. Harry stood in shock, then dashed across the road for the ditch. He sprawled into it, headfirst into the muddy water, careless of the mailbag, of getting wet, of anything. He began to run toward Many Names again.
There were sounds ahead of him. Right around that bend—and there was someone coming behind, too. They weren't going