Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [68]
Frank Stoner sprawled in sinful comfort on the couch, with Joanna MacPherson under one arm and the other around Lilith Hathaway's waist. Lilith was his own height, five nine, but tiny Joanna's shoulders just fit beneath Frank's thick arm. He asked, "How long ago was that?"
"Couple of years. They had to lay me off two months later."
Frank grinned. "By one of those interesting statistical flukes?"
"Huh? No, it had nothing to do with the rubber marijuana. They just had to lay off some people. Since then … Well, the steadiest work has been with Harv Randall." Mark leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "Those man-in-the-street gigs are fun. We met this army colonel who was afraid to open his mouth, afraid something would get out. There was a guy at a wrestling match who couldn't wait for Hammerfall. That's when the real he-men will rule the world, right?" He smiled at Lilith, who was a pale blonde with a lovely heart-shaped face and big boobs. He'd met Lilith at the Interchange, the topless bar where she danced.
Frank Stoner was sipping just enough saki to be polite. Mark hadn't noticed. He emptied his cup in one swallow—you had to drink it fast or it would get cold—and said, "We even interviewed some bikers. The Unholy Rollers were in that night. I don't think they took it seriously, though."
Joanna laughed. "End of the world. No cars on the road. No fuzz. Your biker friends would think that was fat city."
"But they couldn't say that."
"It's maybe true," said Frank Stoner. He and Mark had met on the dirt tracks, fighting it out for prize money across the country. "We can go places cars can't. We don't use as much gas. We stick together. We don't mind a fight. If we had some gas cached somewhere … Hey. What are the chances?"
Mark waved a hand and almost hit his cup. "Almost zilch, unless you believe the astrology columns. Sharps says we might go through the tail, though. Man, won't that be a kick!"
Joanna explained, "Sharps is one of the astronomers they interviewed." She got up to refill saki cups.
"Yeah, and he was stranger than any of them! You'll see it on TV. Hey, did you know that Hot Fudge Sundae falls on a Tuesdae this month?" He gave it a good dramatic pause—during which Joanna got the giggles—before he went on.
An hour later, and Lilith had had to go to work. The saki was dwindling fast. Mark was feeling good. Joanna was feather-light in his lap, while he and Frank talked around her.
Mark had been living with Joanna for almost two years now. Sometimes it struck him as strange, that he had gotten himself involved with a total monogamist. It had changed his life-style, sure—and he liked it. Granted he didn't dare sleep with anyone else; but he didn't get into as many fights either. And he still met interesting people. He'd been afraid that would end …
"You'd have a hell of a time getting back in shape," said Frank.
"Huh?" Mark tried to remember what they'd been talking about. Oh, yeah: the duels they'd fought on the racing circuit years ago. For Mark the dirt tracks were a spectator sport these days. He still had the muscles, but he had grown a great soft pillow of a beer belly. He glanced down and said, "Right. Well, Joanna's making me have the baby."
"Fair's fair," Joanna said. "You lost the toss."
"I'm gettin' too old for fooling around. I should sign up permanently with Randall." He picked up Joanna and set her on her feet (yes, the muscles were still there) and went to the kitchen for the last of the saki. He called, "What do we do if the Hammer hits?"
"Don't be there," Stoner answered. A few seconds later "Don't be at the beach either. Don't be near a coastline. Three out of four it'd be an ocean strike. Bring me a beer."
"Yeah."
"You got a map of the fault lines in California, don't you?"
Mark was sure he did. He began hunting for it.
Frank said, "I think I'd want the same bike I took to Mexico. The big single, the Honda four-stroke. Not so much problem getting spare parts." Frank let his mind track possibilities, taking its