Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [191]
"Is fighting likely?" Rosa Wagoner asked.
"I don't know," Tim said. He huddled in the seat. "Now we wait. And see."
Eileen laughed. She pictured Tim trying to rewind a huge generator. "Cross your fingers," she said.
"You knew him, I didn't," Senator Jellison said. "Any use?"
Harvey Randall looked thoughtful. "I honestly don't know. He got here. That's a lot in his favor. He's a survivor."
"Or lucky," Jellison said. "Hamner, as in Hamner-Brown. He wasn't lucky for the world. Yeah, I know, discovery isn't invention. Mark, you say the other guy's an ex-Marine?"
"Says he is. Looks it, Senator. That's all I know."
"Six more people. Two women and two kids." Jellison looked thoughtful. "Harvey, you put any stock in this scheme to get the power plants working again?"
"The idea sounds useful—"
"Sure, but can Hamner do it?"
Harvey shrugged. "I honestly don't know, Senator. He's a college man. He must know something besides astronomy."
"And I owe him," Jellison said. "Question is, do I owe him enough? It can get hungry here this winter." He looked thoughtful again. "The guy who discovered the comet. That tells me one thing. He's probably got patience. And we could sure as hell use a lookout up on top of the crag, somebody who'd really watch. Let Alice move around a bit instead of sticking in one place.
"And a Marine who may or may not be able to build dams. Officer or enlisted, Mark?"
"Don't know, Senator. I'd guess officer, but I just don't know."
"Yeah. Well, I always did like the Marines. Mark, go tell Mr. Hamner this is his lucky day."
Mark's face said it all. Tim knew when Mark came to the car.
They were safe. After all of it, they were safe. Sometimes dreams do come true, even if you tell them.
The Stronghold: Two
The importance of information is directly proportional to its improbability.
Fundamental theorem of information theory
Al Hardy didn't like guard duty. It didn't do him much good to dislike it. Somebody had to pull guard, and the ranch-hands were more useful elsewhere. Besides, Hardy could make decisions for the Senator.
He looked forward to giving up the whole thing. Not too long, he thought. Not too long until we won't need guards at the Senator's gate. The roadblock stopped most intruders now; but it didn't get them all. A few walked up from the flooded San Joaquin. Others came down from the High Sierra, and a lot of strangers had got into the valley before the Christophers began sealing it off. Most would be sent on their way, and they'd heard the Senator could let them stay on. It meant a lot, to be able to talk to the Senator.
And the Old Man didn't like sending people away, which was why Al didn't let many get up to see him. It was part of his job, and always had been: The Senator said yes to people, and Al Hardy said no.
There'd be a flood of them every hour if they weren't stopped, and the Senator had important work to do. And Maureen and Charlotte would stand guard if Al didn't, and to hell with that. The only good thing about Hammerfall, women's lib was dead milliseconds after Hammerstrike …
Al had paper work to do. He made lists of items they needed, jobs for people to do, worked out details of schemes the Senator thought up. He worked steadily at the clipboard in the car, pausing when anyone came to the drive.
You couldn't tell. You just couldn't tell. The refugees all looked alike: half-drowned and half-starved, and worse every day. Now it was Saturday, and they looked just awful. When he'd been Senator Jellison's aide, Al Hardy had judged himself a good judge of men. But now there was nothing to judge. He had to fall back on routine.
These wandering scarecrows who came on foot, leading two children and carrying a third; but the man and woman both claimed to be doctors and knew the lingo … specialists, but even the woman psychiatrist had had GP training; they all did. And that surly giant was a CBS executive; he had to be turned back to the road, and he didn't stop swearing until Hardy's partner wasted a round through