Farnham’s Freehold By Robert A. Heinlein

“No, it’s not. It may not be necessary but it’s a precaution we’ll take. Barbara, what do you think of Grace?”

“Must I say?”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t like her. That’s apart from being afraid of her; I didn’t like her long before I became uneasy about her. I don’t like the way she treats me, I don’t like the way she treats Joseph, I didn’t like the way she treated Karen, I have always resented the way she treats you-and had to pretend not to see it-and I despise what she has done to Duke.”

“I don’t like her, either-not for years. I’m glad she’s leaving. Barbara, I would be glad even if you were not here.”

“Hugh, I’m relieved to hear that. You know I’m divorced.”

“Yes.”

“When my marriage broke up I swore a solemn oath that I would never break up anyone else’s marriage. I’ve felt guilty ever since the night of the attack.”

He shook his head. “Forget it. The marriage was already long dead. All that was left were duties and obligations. Mine, for she didn’t feel any. Beloved, had my marriage been a reality, you could have come into my arms that night, and cuddle and comfort would have been ‘all. As it was, we were dying-so we thought-and I was at least as hungry for love as you were. I was parched for love-you gave me yourself.”

“Beloved, I will never let you be parched again.”

About nine the next morning, ‘they all were outside where chattels for the new household were piled.

Hugh looked over ‘his ex-wife’s selections with wry amusement. Grace had taken literally the invitation to “take almost anything”; she had gutted the place-the best blankets, almost all utensils including the teakettle and the one skillet, three of four foam-rubber mattresses, nearly all the remaining canned goods, all the sugar, the lion’s share of other irreplaceables, all the plastic dishes.

Hugh made only one objection: salt. When he noted that Grace had grabbed all the salt he insisted on a division. Duke agreed and asked if there was anything else Hugh objected to?

Hugh shook his head. Barbara would not mind making-do. “Better is a dinner of herbs where love is-”

Duke had shown restraint, taking one shovel, one ax, a hammer, less than half the nails, and no tool not stocked in duplicate. Instead, Duke remarked that he might want to borrow tools someday. Hugh agreed and offered his services on any two-man job. Duke thanked him. Both men found the situation embarrassing, both covered it by being unusually polite.

A delay in starting was caused by the steel plate for the cave door. Its weight was not too great for a man as husky as Duke, but it was awkward. A pack had to be devised, rugged enough for the trek, comfortable in padding and straps, and so rigged that Duke could fire a rifle.

This resulted in sacrificing the one intact bear hide, the covering of the bed Karen had died in. Hugh minded only the loss of time. It would take six trips by three men to move the plunder Grace had picked; Duke thought that two trips a day would be maximum. If they did not start soon, only one trip could be made that day.

At last they got it on Duke’s back with a fur pad protecting his spine. “Feels right,” Duke decided. “Let’s get packs on you two and get going.”

“In a jiffy,” Hugh agreed and bent over to pick up his load.

“My God!”

“Trouble, Duke?”

“Look!”

A shape had appeared over the eastern rise. It slanted through the air on a course that would have missed them, but, as it neared the point of closest approach, it stopped dead, turned and headed for them.

It passed majestically overhead. Hugh was unable to guess its size at first; there was nothing to which to relate it-a dark shape proportioned like a domino tile. But as it passed about five hundred feet up, it seemed to him that it was around a hundred feet wide and three times that in length. He could make out no features. It moved swiftly but made no noise.