“Nice people,” said Bob.
“Except for Mr Barron,” said Pete. “What a grump!”
The truck rumbled down the lane, and when it neared the gate a mile away it slowed. Then it stopped and the boys heard Konrad open the door of the cab.
“Jupe?” Konrad called.
Jupe jumped down from the back of the truck, followed by his friends. They saw a man standing in the road, blocking the way. The man wore an army uniform, and there were cartridges in the belt at his waist. A helmet was buckled under his chin. He held a rifle at the ready across his chest.
“Sorry,” he said. “The road is closed.”
“What’s the trouble?” said Jupiter.
“I don’t know,” said the soldier. His voice shook as if he were afraid. “I’ve got orders that no one gets past. The road is closed.”
He shifted the rifle slightly, as if to draw attention to it. It slipped in his grasp and began to fall.
“Watch it!” yelled Pete.
The soldier grabbed clumsily at the gun, and with a stunning roar it went off!
4
Invasion!
THE SOUND OF THE EXPLOSION echoed through the valley. The young soldier stared at his gun, shocked, his eyes enormous in his pale face.
“That thing is loaded!” said Konrad, outraged.
“It sure is,” said the soldier shakily. “We were issued live ammunition today.”
He gripped the rifle more firmly, fearful that it might slip and go off again. The boys heard the sound of a car on the road. An instant later a jeep came speeding into sight. It stopped just feet from the armed man.
“Stanford, what do you think you’re doing?” demanded the officer who sat in the jeep next to the driver. He glared at the soldier, then at the boys and Konrad.
“Sorry, sir,” said the soldier. “The gun slipped.”
“Stanford, if you can’t hold on to a rifle, you don’t belong out here,” said the officer.
“No, sir,” said the soldier.
The officer got out of the jeep and stalked towards Konrad. The boys saw that he was young–as young as the frightened soldier. His olive-drab field jacket was new. So was his helmet. So were the expensive-looking combat boots on his feet.
“I’m Lieutenant John Ferrante,” he said. One gloved hand swung up as if to salute, but then it dropped again. Jupe saw that he was trying to be very military, like an actor portraying an officer in a war film.
“Why is the road closed?” said Konrad. “We are supposed to go to San Jose tonight. We do not have time for the war games that you play.”
“Sorry, but it isn’t a game.” Lieutenant Ferrante’s voice was tight. “My men and I were dispatched from Camp Roberts this afternoon and told to keep all traffic off this road. This is an emergency route from the San Joaquin Valley to the coast, and it has to be clear for military vehicles.”
“We don’t plan to block it,” Jupe pointed out. “We’re going back to 101, and then north to San Jose.”
“Highway 101 is closed, too,” said the lieutenant. “Look, why don’t you just turn around and go back up that drive and let us do our job?”
The lieutenant put a hand on the pistol he wore at his belt. The boys stiffened.
“I have orders that no one is to use this road,” the lieutenant continued. “It’s for your own protection.”
“Protection?” echoed Konrad. “You protect us with a gun?”
“I’m sorry,” said the lieutenant. “Look, I just can’t let you through. And I can’t tell you any more than I have because I don’t know much more. Now be good guys and go back up the drive, huh?”
“Mr Barron won’t believe this,” said Jupiter. “That’s Charles Emerson Barron, the industrialist. He may be quite angry when he learns that his guests are being detained. He might even call Washington. He’s a powerful man, you know!”
“I can’t help that,” said the lieutenant. “I can’t let you through!”
Several more uniformed figures appeared on the road. They stood quietly near the soldier who had first stopped the truck. Each carried a rifle, and the boys could see that each was alert.
“Okay, okay!” said Konrad quickly. “Jupe, I do not like this. We go back to the ranch. We tell Mr Barron what happens.”
“Good!” said the lieutenant. “You do that. And listen–I’ll follow you in the jeep. I’ll help you explain to this Barron, whoever he is. I mean, it’s just one of those things. We’re only following orders.”
The lieutenant got into his jeep and the boys climbed up into the truck.
“Crazy!” said Pete as Konrad turned on the gravel drive.
“Yes, it is,” said Jupiter.
The truck began to roll towards the Barron house, followed by the jeep.
“There was absolutely nothing wrong when we left Rocky Beach at noon,” said Jupe. “What could have happened since then?”
“Beats me,” said Pete, “but that lieutenant sure looked scared. Something’s up.”
Konrad stopped the truck in the drive beyond the ranch house. The jeep pulled in behind, and the lieutenant got out and looked around.
“Who’s in charge here?” he demanded. His voice was loud, as if he were blustering to keep up his courage.
Hank Detweiler came down the back steps of the ranch house. Elsie Spratt and Mary Sedlack were with him, and Rafael Banales stood behind them in the kitchen doorway and watched.
“I’m Mr Barron’s foreman,” said Detweiler. “Can I help you?”
The back door of the Barron house opened and Charles Barron and his wife came out on to the back porch.
“What is it?” asked Barron.
“The road is closed,” said Jupiter. “We can’t leave.”
Jupe turned expectantly toward the lieutenant, and Barron glared at the officer. “My road? Closed?”
Jupe saw with amusement that the lieutenant had begun to sweat in spite of the chill on the evening breeze. Jupe suspected that Charles Emerson Barron often had this effect on people.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the lieutenant. “It’s not y-y-your road!”
Jupe grinned to himself. Mr Barron could do more than make people sweat. He could also make them stutter.
“Well, it certainly isn’t your road!” cried Barron. “What do you mean, it’s closed? It can’t be closed! It’s a public highway.”
“Y-y-yes, sir!” said the lieutenant. “The highway to the San Joaquin, sir, b-b-but–”
“For heaven’s sake, speak up!” roared Barron. “Don’t stand there blithering!”
“We h-h-have orders, sir,” the lieutenant managed to get out. “This afternoon. From Washington. Something h-h-happened in T-t–”
“Lieutenant!” shouted Barron.
“In Texas!” cried the lieutenant. “S-something happened in Texas.” Having gotten a grip on his speech, he took off his helmet and ran one gloved hand over his dark hair. “I don’t know what it was, but all roads in the state have been closed–all main arteries, sir. No traffic is moving.”
“This is preposterous!” shouted Barron.
“Yes, sir,” said the lieutenant.
“I’m going to call Washington,” said Barron.
“Yes, sir,” said the lieutenant.
“The President,” Barron announced. “I’ll call the President.”
Barron stamped into his house. The windows of the big house were open, and the group gathered on the drive could hear Charles Barron dialling the telephone. There was silence for a second, then Barron jiggled the instrument.
“Blast!” he said.
He slammed out on to the back porch and down the steps. “Dratted phone’s dead!” he exclaimed. “Must be a line down!”
“No, sir,” said Lieutenant Ferrante. “I don’t think so, sir.”
“What do you mean?” Barron demanded. “What do you know about this?”
“Nothing, sir,” said the lieutenant, “except that telephones aren’t working anywhere in the area. Or radios. No radios, sir. Our orders came by wire from Washington.”
“No telephones?” demanded Barron. “No radios?”
Men and women began to drift down the lane from the cottages. They were, the people who worked for Barron. They seemed frightened as they gathered in the fading light.
“It is true what he says,” said one man. “The radio, it does not work.”
“We do not have television tonight,” said another. “There was nothing on the television but a strange noise. Now there is not even that. The electricity is gone.”
“No television?” said Barron. There was an expression that was half fear and half exultation on his face. “No electricity?”
Elsie Spratt made an impatient noise. “This is a scene out of a bad movie,” she said. Her voice was loud and determinedly cheerful. “Why would the roads be closed? That doesn’t make sense! Exactly what did it say in that wire from Washington? What happened in Texas?”
“I don’t know, ma’am,” said the lieutenant. “I wasn’t told. I just have–”
“I know, I know!” said Elsie. “You have your orders!”
She turned and went noisily up the steps of the ranch house into the big kitchen. Through the open windows the boys saw her twist the knobs on the battery-operated radio that stood on the counter. Almost immediately the sound of music floated out to the people in the drive.