Footfall

In dollars and cents-and Bill Shakes always thought in dollars and cents-it was more like 30 percent. The place wasn’t just being repaired, it was being turned into a refuge, and that cost in time and effort and money. But Bill and Gwen both liked working with their hands, and so did the boys. When they had the leisure they would drive the truck up to Bellingham-Miranda and Kevin were old enough to spell Bill at the wheel-and make order out of chaos, and play at turning the huge, roomy old house into a fortress. It backed onto a woods, with enough grounds for a garden. There was work to do, but also plenty of time out for goofing off and sailing their twenty-five footer in the San Juan Islands, some of the greatest sailing water in the world. By all odds the end of civilization would never come, or would come in some form the Enclave could never predict. Meanwhile the Shakes used the place more often than the rest of the Enclave families put together.

But this vacation hadn’t been planned.

When Bill got home two evenings ago, Gwen and the kids could talk about nothing but the approaching alien spacecraft. The eleven o’clock news featured fanciful sketches of what an interstellar craft might look like, reminding Bill of equally fanciful cartoons of the late forties: varying designs for a nuclear-powered airplane. That one had certainly come to nothing. But this…

When the telephone woke him at one in the morning, he had felt no surprise whatever. Gwen had said nothing, only turned on her side to listen while George Tate-Evans ordered the Shakes family to Bellingham.

I don’t take orders worth a damn. Bill thought, but he didn’t say it. He was already thinking, muzzily, of how his boss would react to Bill’s taking a sudden week or two off. Because George was right, and this was what the Enclave was for.

It was still a game, but they were playing for points now. Bill wasn’t sure how the kids were taking it. Miranda and Kevin were into the social scene; Carl and Owen were having trouble adjusting to a new school. They should never have been shifted this close to the end of the school year. But they all did their stints working in the vegetable garden and shopping for masses of groceries.

Bill tried not to resent the expense, the disruption. He couldn’t take this Star Wars stuff as seriously as the kids… or George and Vicki for that matter. Neither did Gwen, although she wasn’t so sure. “Vicki is really worried,” Gwen had said.

“Think of it as a fire drill,” he’d answered. “Get the bugs out of the system. If something real ever happens, we’ll know how to do it right.”

At that level it made sense.

What Max Rohrs told his wife that night was, “I think I make Shakes nervous.”

They were in bed, and Evelyn was reading. It wasn’t a book that took concentration. She said, “You said he was little?”

“Yeah.” Max Rohrs was a tall, broad-shouldered, muscular man, blond and hairy. He liked the occasional fight, and some men could see that. “Bill doesn’t quite reach my shoulder. His wife’s just his height, and a little wider, and his sons tower over him. Even so, he’s hiding something.”

“Bodies?”

She wasn’t all that interested, she was just being polite. Max, recognizing this, laughed. “No, not bodies-but there’s too many pipes. Too much plumbing. They keep adding to the septic tanks, and it doesn’t look like they’d have to. I think they’re survivalists. That house” — he rolled over onto his elbow — “it’s twice as big as it looks. Any angle you see it, it looks L-shaped. but it’s an X. Count on it, they’ve got guns and food stores and a bomb

shelter, too. I bet it’s under that tennis court I poured them. In some of the big cities there are bookstores just for survivalists.” He frowned. “They’ve sure been frantic the past week or so.”

“I heard from Linda today,” Evelyn said.

“Linda? And why are you changing the subject?”

“Gillespie. She’s back in Washington. The President sent Ed and Wes Dawson to Houston. They’ll train together. Wes Dawson finally gets to space—”

Max felt a twinge of envy. “That’ll be nice.”

“Linda’s at Flintridge. Her kid sister — you remember Jenny? — had something to do with discovering the alien ship.”

“Oh. Hey, that’s what set Shakes off! Sure, those guys are survivalists.” He knew his wife was smarter than he was, and by a lot, It didn’t bother him. What was amazing was that she was so obviously in love with him, and had been since the night they met in Washington. He’d been a sailor on liberty with no place to go, and somebody suggested a social club in a church up near the National Cathedral. There’d been girls there, lots of them, and all pretty snooty. All except Evelyn and her friends Linda and Carlotta. They were college girls, but they weren’t ashamed to be seen with a petty officer. Maybe it would have been better if she had been snooty, Max thought. But not for me.