Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [201]
"Fucking Hardy wouldn't give you one," Mark said.
"You'd better be careful around him," Harvey said. He lit a match. The lighter fluid caught, and the fire blinded them for a moment. The wood caught, and even that tiny bit of heat was welcome. "He doesn't like you."
"I don't think he likes anybody," Mark said. He began to arrange larger pieces of wood near the fire so they'd dry out. "Always smiling, but he doesn't mean it." Harvey nodded. Hardy's smile hadn't change from before Hammerfall. He was still the politician's assistant, the man who was friendly with everyone, but now his smile was a threat, not something warm and friendly.
"Jesus," Mark said.
"Eh?"
"Just thinking about those poor bastards," Mark said. "Harv, it gave me the willies."
"Don't think about it."
"I had to pull on the rope," Mark said. "I won't forget it."
"Yeah." There had been four frightened kids in the Roman place. Two boys and two girls, none of them more than twenty. Two were wounded in the fight, when Hardy and Christopher captured them. Then there'd been a shouting match between Hardy and Christopher. George Christopher wanted to shoot all four of them on the spot. Al Hardy argued they ought to be taken back to town. Harvey and Mark had sided with Hardy, and eventually Christopher gave in.
Only, when they got them to town, the Senator and the Mayor held a trial the same afternoon, and by evening all four were hanging in front of the City Hall. George Christopher's way would have been kinder.
"They killed the Romans and that other chap, the guy from Muchos Nombres," Harvey said. "What else could we have done with them?"
"Hell, they got what was coming," Mark said. "It was just all so fucking quick. And the way those girls screamed and cried … " Mark fed the fire again, brooding.
The executions had shocked a number of the townspeople, Harvey thought. But nobody said anything. The Romans had been their friends. Besides, it could be dangerous to argue. Behind Al Hardy's smiles and perpetual calm and easy manners was the ultimate threat. The road. There was always the road, for those who wouldn't cooperate, for those who caused too much trouble. The road.
They were almost at the top, the highest point the road would reach, when it was time to make camp on their third day. The rain hadn't let up, and the higher they climbed, the colder it got. They'd need a fire tonight, which meant that they'd have to take turns tending it.
Harvey was carefully laying out his sticks, and hadn't yet reached into his pockets for the lighter fluid, when they smelled it.
"Smoke," Mark said. "A campfire."
"Yes. Well hidden," Harvey said.
"It's got to be close. We'd never smell it from far, not in this rain."
They probably wouldn't see it, either. Harvey sat absolutely still, motioning Mark for silence. There was a strong wind blowing from higher up. It had to be carrying the campfire smells. The rain was like a wet curtain, and in the dying light they couldn't see more than a few yards.
"Let's go look," Mark said.
"Yeah. We'll leave the ponchos. We can't get any wetter than we are already."
They moved cautiously uphill, up the road, peering into the gloom.
"Over there," Mark whispered. "I heard something. A voice."
Harvey thought he'd heard it too, but it was very faint. They moved in that direction. There wasn't any point in trying to be quiet. The wind and rain covered most sounds, and their feet squished in the wet leaves and mud of the forest floor.
"Just hold it."
They stopped dead still. The voice had been a girl's. Not very old, Harvey thought. She was very close, probably hidden in a thicket just ahead.
"Andy," she called. "Two visitors."
"Coming."
Harvey stood rigid for a moment. It was … "Andy!" he shouted. "Andy, is that you?"
"Yes, sir." His son came down the trail.
Harvey rushed forward to greet him. "Andy, thank God, you're all right—"
"Yes, sir. I'm fine. Is Mother