Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [85]
''Sure.'' Sure, Rick Delanty thought. Bullshit. If she had problems with her period she'd have told the Russian groundcontrol people and somebody else would have been sent up. Wouldn't she? I'd have told them about space sickness if I'd known I was going to get it. I'm sure I would have …
Whatever her problem, it would be wise to treat Leonilla Malik diffidently during the next day or so. Hell. And Hamner-Brown was so close!
Barry Price laid down the telephone and looked up with excitement. Dolores had just come in with coffee. "Guess what happens next Tuesday!" he shouted in glee.
"A comet hits the Earth."
"Huh? No, no, this is serious. We go on line! I've got all the permissions, the last court suit was dismissed—San Joaquin Nuclear Plant becomes a fully operational facility."
She didn't look as happy as he'd thought she would. "I suppose there'll be some kind of ceremony?" she asked.
"No, we keep a low profile—why?"
"Because I won't be here. Not unless you absolutely need me."
He frowned. "I always absolutely need you—"
"Better get used to it," she said. She patted her stomach. There was no sign of a bulge, but he knew. "Anyway, I'm going to see Dr. Stone in Los Angeles. Thought I'd stay over and visit Mother, and come back Tuesday night."
"Sure. Dee?"
"Yes?"
"You want to keep this baby, don't you?"
"Yes. I'm going to."
"Then marry me."
"No, thanks. We've both tried that before."
"Not with each other," he said. He tried to sound convincing, but secretly was relieved. And yet … "Is it fair to the kid? Not having a father … "
She giggled. "Not being parthenogenetic, I'm relatively certain he has one. And I've a good idea who he is."
"Oh, dammit, you know what I mean."
"Sure." She put his coffee down on the desk and opened his calendar. "You have lunch with the Lieutenant Governor. Don't forget."
"That moron. If there was anything that would get me out of my euphoric mood, you've just said it. But I'll be nice. You can't believe how nice I'll be."
"Good." She turned to leave.
"Hey," he called, stopping her. "Look, let's talk about it. When you get back from Los Angeles. I mean, it's my kid too … "
"Sure." Then she was gone.
"Hey, baby, that Hammer's gonna waste this town."
"Bull-fucking-shit," Alim Nassor said, and he smiled. "We're gonna do the wasting." He'd heard all the talk about what the comet was going to do. The preachers in their storefronts were getting big crowds, pulling in lots of bread. End of the world coming, make your peace with Sweet Jesus, and give money …
More power to them. One thing that comet was doing—it was sucking the honkies right out of their houses. Alim's cruises through Brentwood and Bel Air turned up lots of houses with milk bottles and old newspapers on the porches. He went through in an old pickup truck, lawn mowers and garden tools piled in back. Who'd look twice at black gardeners? So when they stopped to collect the papers and milk cartons nobody noticed. And now he had the addresses, and they'd cleaned up so nobody else would come try a ripoff …
They'd go through Bel Air and Brentwood like a mowing machine. Alim Nassor had set it up with half a dozen burglary outfits, with men who weren't so good at taking orders, but knew a good thing when they saw it. A Hammer of God didn't come twice in a man's lifetime.
Some of these places had to be setups. Pigs on stakeout. There were ways to take care of that little problem, too. It only took planning. They even mowed some yards. Did good work and that way they could watch the whole block, see people piling stuff into trailers and taking off. Bel Air was half deserted. It was going to be easy pickings tonight! And afterward … maybe the political game could be played again. A lot of brothers would have bread, for awhile.
Still … there were so many honkies moving out. Rich honkies, people who knew things. Down at City Hall everybody was nervous, too. Maybe that thing could really hit?
Alim had gone through the newspapers and magazines. He could read