Footfall

“So which side are you on, Professor?” Evan Lewis had never liked Professor Morgan. On the other hand, it was David Morgan’s house, and they all felt like guests, military uniforms or not.

“I agree with Colonel Halverson’s reasoning,” Morgan said. “The invaders are hiding something to the east. We’re a cavalry outfit. It’s our duty to explore-but carefully. In particular, we have to be certain that any information we get will be useful. That won’t be easy. They’re jamming all communications and the phones don’t work.”

Joe Halverson nodded thoughtfully. “Suggestions, Major?”

“We’ll have to string things out. Use the Bradley vehicles as communications links.” He sketched rapidly on the table cloth. “Corporal Lewis” — Morgan nodded to Evan Lewis; everyone knew that Evan’s son Jimmy was an electronic genius — “Jimmy rigged up those shield things that let the tanks talk to each other, as long as the antennas are aimed straight at each other. Fine. We send the choppers forward as scouts and flankers, making sure they stay in line of sight to the tanks. Tanks in the middle, concentrated enough to have some firepower, spread out enough to not make such a good target. Then string the Bradleys and the LAVs out behind as connecting links.”

“What do they connect to?” Mason asked.

“We leave two troopers here with my wife and a radio. Juana writes down everything, if we don’t come back, she gets the hell out.”

“Not much chance she’d have to do that,” Halverson said. “Hell, we’re not an army, but we’ve got a fair amount of strength here.” He looked out the window at his command. Six helicopters, with missiles. A dozen tanks, with guns and missiles. The communications weren’t any good because the Invaders were broadcasting static from space. But even without communications a troop of armored cavalry was nothing to laugh at.

“Sounds all right to me,” Lewis said. “At least we’ll be doing something.”

“I’d rather wait for orders,” George Mason said. “But what the hell, I’m ready if you are.”

Joe Halverson stood. “Right. Let’s go.”

“I’m Jimmy Lewis,” the corporal said. He climbed through the attic window to join Harry on the roof of the big frame house.

Harry nodded greeting. “Hi. They tell me you invented this.” He hefted the hand-talkie radio whose antenna was wrapped in a tinfoil cone stiffened with coat-hanger wire.

“Yeah,” Jimmy Lewis said. His tone was serious. “It’s the only way I’ve figured to keep communications. You have to point it pretty tight, though, or you’ll lose the signal

Harry regarded the device, then the similar but larger tinfoil monstrosity on one of the Bradley Fighting Vehicles in the yard down below. “Yeah. So I point this at the Bradley, and maybe I can hear. What then?”

“Use this,” Jimmy Lewis said. He handed Harry a Sony tape recorder. “There’s three hours of tape on there. More than enough. Just plug it into the radio, here, like that, and turn it on when we move out. Listen in the earphones, and you’ll hear a tone if you’re pointed close to the tank, and nothing at all when you’re dead on, except when they’re talking; then you’ll hear them talk, of course. It sounds hard, but it’s pretty easy, really.”

“Sure.”

Major Morgan was in the front yard. Harry couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Juana Morgan didn’t like it. Their housekeeper sat in the front seat of the four-wheel-drive Jimmy, but Juana Morgan didn’t want to drive it.

Finally, though, she got in, and the blue Jimmy drove off. And now it’s just Carlotta and me. David Morgan stood very straight as he went to his tank and climbed in.

Colonel Halverson came over to stand below them. “Bout time, Jimmy,” he shouted up at them.

“Yes, sir.” Corporal Lewis waved to Harry and crawled back inside through the window.

“Thanks, Mr. Reddington,” Halverson shouted. “I need all my troopers. Good of you to fill in. I doubt you’ll be needed, but—”

“Yeah. No problem, Colonel.” Of course Carlotta’s goin’ nuts, wanting to go get that elephant. Maybe it’s safer up here!

“Thanks, then,” Halverson said. He walked briskly up the line to the lead tank and climbed in. He stood in the turret for a moment, then waved dramatically. “Wagons-hoooo!” he shouted.

The helicopters rose in a cloud of dust and swept forward and off to each side in groups of three The tanks fanned out and moved ahead, leaving the Bradleys behind.

“Watcher, this is Jayhawk One. Do you read?”

Harry keyed the mike. “Roger, Jayhawk One, this is Watcher.”

“Course is 100 degrees, moving forward at 1220 hours,” the tanker’s voice said in Harry’s ear. Harry started guiltily and switched on the tape recorder.

When the Bradley began to move eastward, it was much harder to keep the radio aimed properly. Harry braced it against the chimney. The rooftop was steep and it wasn’t easy to keep his footing.

The helicopters wove in complex patterns ahead of the tanks. “Moving, ahead at twenty klicks,” the voice said.