Farnham’s Freehold By Robert A. Heinlein

“That won’t be necessary,” his son said crisply. “I’m not going to let her have any. Get it over with, she’ll be well that much sooner.”

“Your decision. May I offer a suggestion?”

“What?”

“In the morning, be up before she is. Move the liquor out and bury it, someplace known only to you. Then have open one bottle at a time and dispense it by the ounce. Tell the others to drink where she can’t see it. You had better ditch the open bottle outdoors, too.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“But that makes it all the more urgent to keep sleeping pills away from her.”

“Bury them?”

“No. We need them inside, and it’s not just sleeping pills. Demerol. Hypodermic needles. Several drugs, some poisonous and some addictive and all irreplaceable. If she can’t find Seconal-five bottles of a hundred each, it’s bulky-there’s no telling what she might get into. We’ll use the vault.”

“A little safe let into concrete back of that cupboard. Nothing in it but birth certificates and such, and some reserve ammo, and two thousand silver dollars. Toss the money in with the hardware, we’ll use it as metal. The combo is ‘July 4th, 1776’-‘74-17-76.’ Better change it, Grace may know it.”

“At once!”

“No rush, she won’t wake up. ‘Reserve ammo-‘ Duke, you were liquor and cigarette boss and now you are drugs boss. I’m going whole hog, you are rationing officer. Responsible for everything that can’t be replaced: liquor, tobacco, ammunition, nails, toilet tissue, matches, dry cells, Kleenex, needles-”

“Good God! Got any more dirty jobs?”

“Lots of them. Duke, I’m trying to make it each according to his talents. Joe is too diffident-and he missed obvious economies today. Karen doesn’t think ahead. Barbara feels like a freeloader even though she’s not, she wouldn’t crack down. I would, but I’m swamped. You are a natural for it; you don’t hesitate to assert yourself. And you have foresight when you take the trouble to use it.”

“Thank you too much. All right.”

“The hardest thing to drill into them will be saving every scrap of metal and paper and cloth and lumber, things Americans have wasted for years. Fishhooks. Groceries aren’t as important; we’ll replace them, you by hunting, Barbara by gardening. Nevertheless, better note what can’t be replaced. Salt. You must ration salt especially.”

“Salt?”

“Unless you run across a salt lick in hunting. Salt- Damn it, we’re going to have to tan leather. All I used to do with a hide was rub it with salt and give it to the taxidermist. Is salt necessary?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll look it up. Damnation, we’re going to find that I failed to stock endless things we’ll be miserable without.”

“Dad,” Duke admitted, “I think you’ve done mighty well.”

“So? That’s pleasant to hear. We’ll manage to-”

“Daddy!”

“Yes?” Hugh went to the tank room. Karen’s head stuck up out of the manhole.

“Daddy, can we please come in? It’s dark and scary and something big chased Doc in. Joe won’t let us until you say.”

“Sorry, Baby. Everybody come in. And we’ll put the lid on.”

“Yes, sir. But Daddy, you ought to look outside. Stars. The Milky Way like a neon sign! And the Big Dipper-so maybe this isn’t another planet? Or would we still see the Big Dipper?”

“I’m not certain.” He recalled that the discovery that they were still in James County, Mountain Springs area, had not been shared. But Duke must tell it; it was his deduction. “Duke, want to take a look before we close up?”

“Thanks, I’ve seen a star.”

“As you wish.” Hugh went outside, waited while his eyes adjusted, saw that Karen was right: Never before had he seen the heavens on a clear mountain night with no other light, nor trace of smog, to dim its glory.

“Beautiful!”

Karen slipped her hand into his. “Yes,” she agreed. “But I could use some streetlights. There are things out there. And we heard coyotes.”

“There are bears and Duke saw a mountain lion. Joe, better keep the cat in at night, and try to keep him close in the daytime.”

“He won’t go far, he’s timid. And something just taught him a lesson.”