case of disaster. They could have set up secret and protected centers of
government to use for storm cellars. They could have planned the same way a
father takes out life insurance for his kids. Instead they went stumbling
along, fat dumb, and happy, and let themselves get killed, with no
provision to carry out their sworn duties after they were dead. Theory of
‘derived authority’, pfui! It’s not just disastrous; it’s ridiculous! We
used to be the greatest country in the world — now look at us!”
“Take it easy, Doc,” Morgan suggested. “Hindsight is easier than
foresight.”
“Hmm! I saw it coming. I quit my Washington job and took a country
practice, five years ahead of time. Why couldn’t a congressman be as bright
as I am?”
“Hmm . . . well — you’re right, but we might just as well worry over the
Dred Scott Decision. Let’s get on with the problem. How about Brockman?
Ideas?”
“What do you propose, boss?”
“I’d rather have it come from the floor.”
“Oh, quit scraping your foot, boss,” urged Ted. “We elected you to lead.”
“Okay. I propose to send somebody to backtrack on the message and locate
Brockman — smell him out and see what he’s got. I’ll consult with as many
groups as we can reach, in this state and across the river, and well try to
manage unanimous action. I was thinking of sending Dad and Morrie.”
Cathleen shook her head. “Even with faked registration cards and travel
permits they’d be grabbed for the Reconstruction Battalions. I’ll go.”
“In a pig’s eye,” Morgan answered. “You’d be grabbed for something a danged
sight worse. It’s got to be a man.”
“I am afraid Cathleen is right,” McCracken commented. “They shipped
twelve-year-old boys and old men who could hardly walk for the Detroit
project. They don’t care how soon the radiation gets them — it’s a plan to
thin us out.”
“Are the cities still that bad?”
“From what I hear, yes. Detroit is still ‘hot’ and she was one of the first
to get it.”
“I’m going to go.” The voice was high and thin, and rarely heard in
conference.
“Now, Mother — ” said Dad Carter.
“You keep out of this, Dad. The men and young women would be grabbed, but
they won’t bother with me. All I need is a paper saying I have a permit to
rejoin my grandson, or something.”
McCracken nodded. “I can supply that.”
Morgan paused, then said suddenly, “Mrs. Carter will contact Brockman. It
is so ordered. Next order of business,” he went on briskly. “You’ve all
seen the news about St. Joe — this is what they posted in Barclay last
night.” He hauled out and held up the paper McCracken had given him. It was
a printed notice, placing the City of Barclay on probation, subject to the
ability of “local authorities” to suppress “bands of roving criminals”.
There was a stir, but no comment. Most of them had lived in Barclay; all
had ties there.
“I guess you’re waiting for me,” McCracken began. “We held a meeting as
soon as this was posted. We weren’t all there — it’s getting harder to
cover up even the smallest gathering — but there was no disagreement. We’re
behind you but we want you to go a little easy. We suggest that you cut out
pulling raids within oh, say twenty miles of Barclay, and that you stop all
killing unless absolutely necessary to avoid capture. It’s the killings
they get excited about — it was killing of the district director that
touched off St. Joe.”
Benz sniffed. “So we don’t do anything. We just give up — and stay here in
the hills and starve.”
“Let me finish, Benz. We don’t propose to let them scare us out and keep us
enslaved forever. But casual raids don’t do them any real harm. They’re
mostly for food for the Underground and for minor retaliations. We’ve got
to conserve our strength and increase it and organize, until we can hit
hard enough to make it stick. We won’t let you starve. I can do more
organizing among the farmers and some animals can be hidden out and