Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [261]
"This was quite a find," said Horrie Jackson. "We can use her to—"
"She's gorgeous! Who cares what she's for?"
The fishing-camp leader chortled. "Isn't she just? But the Senator wanted something that could tow a load. And since I'm comin' along I'd as soon have something fast. Just in case we have to run away from anything."
"We're not going there to run away," Baker told him.
Jackson's grin was wide. He was missing a tooth. "General, I'm going because they hired me. Some of my boys are going because the Senator's man said he'd take their women up into that valley and keep 'em there for the winter. I don't know what the last astronaut is doing here."
"Don't you care?" Baker demanded. "Isn't it worth saving? It could be the last nuclear power plant on Earth!"
Jackson shook his head. "General, after what I've seen I can't think more than a day ahead. and right now all I know is you're going to feed me awhile. I remember … " His brow furrowed. "Seems so long ago. The papers were screaming about how the gov'mint was putting an atomic plant right next to us and if a melt-down happened … I don't remember. But I can't get excited about saving an atomic plant."
"Or anything else," Jason Gillcuddy said. "Disaster syndrome."
"Let's board," Horrie Jackson said coldly.
Tim Hammer made his choice: One of the boats had an awning, protection from the drizzle. He sat next to Hugo Beck. The man must have had enough of being avoided. Mark and Gillcuddy boarded the same boat. Horrie Jackson took the pilot's chair. then looked around to find that Johnny Baker was in command of Cindy Lu.
"I don't suppose she'll be too fast for an astronaut," he called "but you won't get so wet under the awning."
Baker laughed. "What's a little rain to a man in love?" He activated Cindy Lu with a marrow-freezing, mind-numbing roar.
The small fleet moved cautiously out from shore, out into the inland sea. The water was dangerous with treetops, floating debris, telephone poles. Horrie Jackson led the way in the cabin boat, going very slowly. The top of a silo marked where a submerged barn must be; he steered wide. He seemed to know exactly where to turn to find the channel among the islands and obstructions.
The night was not quite pitch black. A dull glow beyond the drizzle marked where the moon was hidden by the constant cloud cover.
Mark fished out corn dodgers and passed them around. They had bags of cornmeal with them, and enough of the round cornmeal cakes to feed them while they crossed the water. Enough, until Hugo Beck put one in Horrie Jackson's hand
"Hey!" Horrie cried. He bit it, then stuffed it whole in his mouth and tried to talk around it. "Dried fish just by my foot. Pass it around. It's all yours. I want as much of these things as you can spare, and all for me."
Mark was stunned. "Just what is so extra special about corn dodgers?"
Horrie got his mouth clear. "They aren't fish, that's what! Look, for all of me the whole world is starving except us. We aren't starving. For a couple of months we were, then all of a sudden there was fish everywhere, but only two kinds. Catfish and goldfish. The only problem is cooking them. We—"
"Hold up!" That was Mark. "You didn't really say goldfish, did you?"
"They look like goldfish, but big. That's what you're eating now. Gary Fisher says goldfish can grow to any size. The catfish were always there, in the streams. You want me to shut up? Pass me that bag of corn dodgers."
They passed Horrie the bag. Tim ate with enthusiasm. He hadn't tasted fish in a long time, and it was good, even dried. He wondered why there were suddenly so many fish, then considered how their food supply had exploded. All those dead things floating in the water. It only bothered him for a moment.
"But why goldfish?" Mark Czescu wondered.
Gillcuddy laughed at him. "Easy to picture. Here's a rising freshwater sea, and here's a living room with a goldfish bowl in it. The water rises, breaks through the picture window, and suddenly the most docile of household pets is whirled out of his cage