Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [168]
"Yes."
"I saw magazine articles about it," Mayor Seitz mused. "Glaciers. East Coast wiped out." There was a crash of thunder and Gil Seitz waved toward the windows. "Didn't believe it before. Now I guess I have to. How long does that rain go on?"
"Weeks," Jellison said.
That sobered them all. They were all farmers, or lived in a community where farming—and farming weather—was the most important topic of conversation. They all knew what weeks of pounding rain would do.
"Animals will starve," Seitz said. There was a momentary smile as he thought of the prices his feedstore inventory would bring; then a frown as he thought it through. "Just how much damage did that do? Will there be trucks left? Trains? Feed deliveries?"
Jellison didn't say anything for a moment. "The science people tell me it'll be raining like this all across the country," he said slowly.
"Jesus Christ," the Mayor said. "Nobody gets in a crop this year. Nobody. What's in the elevators and granaries is it."
"And I don't reckon anybody's going to send much to us," George Christopher observed. Everyone nodded agreement. "If it's that bad … Is it?"
"Don't know," Jellison said. "Good chance it's worse."
Seitz turned to study the big contour map of Tulare and adjacent counties that hung on the library wall. "Jesus, Senator, what do we do? The San Joaquin's going to fill up, rain like this. Fill right up. And there's a lot of people out there. A lot."
"And they'll all head this way, looking for high ground," George Christopher added. "Where'll we put 'em? How can we feed them all? We can't."
Jellison sat on the edge of a library table. "Gil, George, I've always suspected you both had more sense than you let on. That's the problem, no doubt about it. Half a million, maybe more people in the San Joaquin, and they'll all be looking for high ground. More people up in the Sierra, went up to get away from the comet, and they'll be coming down here now. People from as far as L.A. will come here. What do we do with them all?"
"Let's get this straight," one of the councilmen said. "It's a disaster, but you're saying … " He broke down, unable to finish for a moment. "You're saying that the Army, the President, Sacramento, everybody's knocked out? We're on our own forever?"
"We may be," Jellison said. "Maybe not, too."
"It makes a difference," George Christopher said. "We can take care of all those people for a week. Maybe two. Not longer. Longer than that, somebody's got to starve. Who'll it be? All of us because we tried to keep a hundred times too many alive for a couple of weeks?"
"That's the problem, all right," Mayor Seitz agreed.
"I'm not feeding any of them," George Christopher said. His voice was like granite. "I have my own to take care of."
"You can't … you can't just abandon all your responsibilities," Jack Turner said.
"Don't think I have any to outsiders," Christopher said. "Not if they're going to die anyway."
"Some of them won't make it," Chief Hartman said. He pointed to the big map. "Porterville and Visalia are both in old river bottoms. Flood basins. Rain like this, I doubt those flood-control dams will hold very long."
They all looked at the maps. It was true. Lake Success hung over Porterville, billions of gallons of water poised to plunge down on the city. Visalia to the north was no better off.
"Not just the rain," Mayor Seitz said thoughtfully. "Warm rain, while there's still some snow in the high country. Expect that's all melted by now, sure by this afternoon—"
"We have to warn those people!" Jack Turner said.
"Do we?" asked a councilman.
"Sure we do," Chief Hartman said. "And then what do we feed them with when they all come here? The stock out of Granny Mason's store?"
There was a babble of talk in the room.
"How long will those dams last?" Jellison asked. "All day?"
No one knew for sure. The telephone wasn't working, so they couldn't call the county engineers.
"What did you have in mind, Senator?" Chief Hartman asked.
"Is there time to get trucks down in that area? Strip the supermarkets, feedstores, hardware