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thing.
"I think Millard's got it, too!" somebody yelled. That produced more cussing.
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Most people in this alternate swore less than they did in the home timeline,
but the soldiers were an exception.
"Herecomes the doc!" another soldier hollered. They were all carrying on at
something above the tops of their lungs.
"What can you do for 'em, Doc?" Three or four people shouted the same
question at once.
"If it is the plague, I can't do anything much," the military doctor
answered. That was the meaning of what he said, anyhow. It came out a lot
warmer. He also had unkind things to say about everyone who'd been born inOhio
for the past three hundred years. "And their dogs, too," he added.
"Can you give 'em that globby stuff?" a soldier asked.
"Gamma globulin, you mean? I can give the shots, but I don't know how much
good they'll do, or if they'll do any," the doctor said. "That stuff is
supposed to keep them from getting sick in the first place, not to cure them
if they do. But I'll try it. I don't see how it can hurt them. And I'll tell
you what y'all better do."
"What's that?" Again, several soldiers asked the question.
"Get away from this place," the doctor told them. "Go on scoot. The less
contact you have with infected people, the better your chances of staying
well. And send Major Duncan close enough so I can shout at him. This
cell-phone jamming is a pain in the.... Anyway, I need to talk to him. We have
to figure out whether hanging on to this miserable little piddlepot of a town
is worth the risk."
Some of the soldiers tried to volunteer to stay and help the military doctor
take care of their buddies, but he wouldn't hear of it. He loudly and foully
insisted it was his job, not theirs. Randolph Brooks nodded approval of the
men for wanting to stay and of the doctor for not letting them. "He's got
nerve, that one," the coin and stamp dealer said.
"Has he got any sense?" Justin asked.
Mr. Brooks shrugged. "He's already about as exposed as you can be. For that
matter, so are we." Immunity shots or not, Justin could have done without the
reminder.
Once given orders to leave, the soldiers didn't seem sorry to go. It got
quieter than it had been since they took over most of the motel. It got so
quiet, it made Justin nervous he'd grown used to their racket, even if he
didn't like it.
After a bit, someone Justin supposed it was Major Duncan came close enough to
shout questions at the doctor. Justin had trouble making out what they were.
The major didn't want to get real close, which was understandable enough. The
doctor's answers were plain enough and then some. He knew how to project.
Justin wondered if he'd done drama in high school or college.
"How are they?" he yelled. "They're sick, that's how they are. And they're
getting sicker by the minute, too."A pause.A muffled question from the major.
"Yes, the men lodged here are exposed," the doctor answered. "Everybody in
this whole blinking village is exposed . . . sir."Another pause.Another
question."Yes, sir. That includes you."
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This time, the major let out a very audible squawk. "Can we get them out
without risking more people?" he asked, loud enough for Justin to hear him
just fine.
"Won't be easy," the military doctor shouted back. "I'm not equipped for
isolation cases... . Yes, I should have been.. .. Yes, those people are
idiots, but what do you want me to do about it now?"
Justin glanced over at Mr. Brooks. The older man's face bore a small, tight
smile. "Some things don't change from one alternate to another," he said in a
low voice. "The people in the field, the people at the front, have to work
around their stupid superiors.Law of nature, near enough."
"I guess," Justin said vaguely. He'd missed some of the back-and-forth
between the doctor and the major.
"You can pull out if you want, sir," the doctor shouted. "I'll stay behind
and take care of them. . . . No, I'm not afraid, or not too much. I don't go
into combat, the way you do. I do this instead."
Justin thought he would rather go into combat. If you had a gun, at least you
could shoot back. What could you do to a tailored virus?
The major said something. "Sir, I would have to disobey that order," the
military doctor yelled back. "The patients come first. I'll stay here."
"He can play on my team any day," Mr. Brooks murmured."Oh, yeah."
Another yell from theVirginia major.The doctor didn't answer. The major said
something else. This time, Justin understood it perfectly. It made the
officer's opinion very plain, even if it was on the earthy side. The doctor
only laughed. "Thank you, sir. I love you, too," he said, and blew the major a
loud, smacking kiss.
"Yeah," Mr. Brooks said. Justin found himself nodding. Whatever else you said
about the doc, he had style. As for Justin . . . Justin had the beginnings of
an idea.
Beckie had started to hopeOhio troops would occupyElizabeth . Her passport
and Gran's hadOhio visas that were just as good as theirVirginia visas. Maybe
the Ohioans could do something about the disease they'd turned loose, and
wouldn't keep people in the area they occupied all cooped up. If Beckie and
Gran could get back toColumbus , they could probably get back toCalifornia .
She knew better than to say anything about that where Mr. Snodgrass could
hear it. He was, and had every right to be, a good citizen ofVirginia . If he
saw soldiers fromOhio onPrunty Street , he might take out a shotgun and bang
away at them. If he did, the Ohioans would likely shoot him and another dozen
people besides, but that might not be enough to stop him.
The soldiers fromVirginia were pulling out ofElizabeth again. The disease had
got its teeth into them. Beckie thanked heaven that she'd stayed well, and her
grandmother, and Mr. Snodgrass. She wasn't so sure he was glad to be well. He
might want to join his wife. He kept going on about how empty his days were
without her. Beckie didn't know what to tell him. What could you tell somebody
who said something like that?
Off to the west and northwest, Virginian guns still fired at the Ohioans
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inParkersburg . "How many shells come down on the enemy, and how many land on
people who just happen to be in the way?" Beckie wondered after one especially
noisy bombardment.
"Can't make an omelette without breaking eggs," Gran said. To her,
nothingVirginia did in the war could be wrong. To Beckie, the cliche sounded
like one of the things the mysterious they would say.
"It's a hard business, war," Mr. Snodgrass said. "A lot of the time, I think
nobody comes out on top."
"I think you're right," Beckie said. Gran just sniffed. Beckie hadn't really
expected anything else from her.
Somebody rang the doorbell. If that wasn't one of the soldiers wanting
something, it was likely to be Mr. Brooks and Justin. Beckie couldn't very
well tell Justin not to come over. This wasn't her house it was Mr.
Snodgrass'. And Justin hadn't done anything to make her hate him. He'djust. .
. disappointed her. If he couldn't tell her whatever it was that he couldn't
tell her, then they weren't going anywhere no matter what. She'd wondered if
they might. Knowing they wouldn't was too bad.
Even if they weren't, he still made better company than anybody else
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