The Hammer of Eden

It was maddening. He did not want to trigger another earthquake. This one would have to be more spectacular, destroying roads and bridges, bringing skyscrapers tumbling down. People would die.

Priest was not like Melanie, thirsting for revenge upon the world. He just wanted to be left alone. He was willing to do anything to save the commune, but he knew it would be smarter to avoid killing if he could. After this was all over, and the project to dam the valley had been canceled, he and the commune wanted to live in peace. That was the whole point. And their chances of staying here undisturbed would be greater if they could win without killing innocent California citizens. What had happened so far could be forgotten soon enough. It would drop out of the news, and no one would care what became of the nutcases who said they could trigger earthquakes.

As he stood musing, Star appeared. She slipped out of her purple robe and stepped into the cold river to wash. Priest looked hungrily at her voluptuous body, familiar but still desirable. He had shared his bed with no one last night. Star was still spending her nights with Bones, and Melanie was with her husband in Berkeley. So the great cocksman sleeps alone.

While she was toweling herself dry, Priest said: “Let’s go get a newspaper. I want to know if Governor Robson said anything last night.”

They got dressed and drove to a gas station. Priest filled the tank of the ’Cuda while Star got the San Francisco Chronicle.

She came back white-faced. “Look,” she said, showing him the front page.

There was a picture of a young girl who looked familiar. After a moment he realized with horror that it was Flower.

Stunned, he picked up the newspaper.

Beside the picture of Flower was one of himself.

Both were computer-generated images. The one of Priest was based on his appearance at the FBI press conference, when he had been disguised as Peter Shoebury, with his hair pulled back and wearing large glasses. He did not think anyone would recognize him from that.

Flower had not been in disguise. Her computer picture was like a poorly drawn portrait — not her, but like her. Priest felt cold. He was not used to fear. He was a daredevil who enjoyed risk. But this was not about him. He had put his daughter in danger.

Star said angrily: “Why the hell did you have to go to that press conference?”

“I had to know what they were thinking.”

“It was so dumb!”

“I’ve always been rash.”

“I know.” Her voice softened, and she touched his cheek. “If you were timid, you wouldn’t be the man I love.”

A month ago it would not have mattered: no one outside the commune knew Flower, and no one inside read newspapers. But she had been going secretly to Silver City to meet boys; she had stolen a poster from a store; she had been arrested; and she had spent a night in custody. Would the people she had met remember her? And if so, would they recognize the picture? The probation officer might remember her, but luckily he was still on vacation in the Bahamas, where he was unlikely to see the San Francisco Chronicle. But what about the woman who had guarded her overnight? A schoolteacher who was also the sheriff’s sister, Priest recalled. Her name came back: Miss Waterlow. She saw hundreds of little girls presumably, but she might remember their faces. Maybe she had a bad memory. Maybe she had gone on vacation, too. Maybe she had not read today’s Chronicle.

And maybe Priest was finished.

There was nothing he could do about it. If the schoolteacher saw the picture and recognized Flower and called the FBI, a hundred agents would descend on the commune and it would be all over.

He stared at the paper while Star read the text. “If you didn’t know her, would you recognize her?”

Star shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“I don’t either. But I wish I were sure.”

“I didn’t think the feds were this goddamn smart,” Star said.

“Some are, some aren’t. It’s this Asian girl that worries me. Judy Maddox.” Priest recalled the TV pictures of her, so slender and graceful, pushing through a hostile crowd with a look of bulldog determination on her delicate features. “I got a bad feeling about her,” he said. “A real bad feeling. She keeps coming up with leads — first the seismic vibrator, then the picture of me in Shiloh, now Flower. Maybe that’s why Governor Robson hasn’t said anything. She’s got him hoping we’ll be caught. Is there a statement from the governor in the paper?”

“No. According to this report, a lot of people are saying Robson should give in and negotiate with the Hammer of Eden, but he refuses to comment.”

“This is no good,” he said. “I’ve got to find a way to talk to him.”

* * *

When Judy woke up she could not remember why she felt so bad. Then the whole ghastly scene came back in a dreadful rush.

Last night she had been paralyzed with embarrassment. She had mumbled an apology to Michael and run out of the building, burning with shame. But this morning her mortification had been replaced by a different feeling. Now she just felt sad. She had thought Michael might become part of her life. She had been looking forward to getting to know him, growing more fond of him, making love to him. She had imagined that he cared for her. But the relationship had crashed and burned in no time.

She sat up in bed and looked at the collection of Vietnamese water puppets she had inherited from her mother, arranged on a shelf above the chest of drawers. She had never seen a puppet show — had never been to Vietnam — but her mother had told her how the puppeteers stood waist deep in a pond, behind a backdrop, and used the surface of the water as their stage. For hundreds of years such painted wooden toys had been used to tell wise and funny tales. They always reminded Judy of her mother’s tranquility. What would she say now? Judy could hear her voice, low and calm. “A mistake is a mistake. Another mistake is normal. Only the same mistake twice makes you a fool.”

Last night had just been a mistake. Michael had been a mistake. She had to put all that behind her. She had two days to prevent an earthquake. That was really important.

On the TV news, people were arguing about whether the Hammer of Eden might really be able to trigger an earthquake. The believers had formed a pressure group to urge Governor Robson to give in. But, as she got dressed, Judy’s mind kept returning to Michael. She wished she could speak to her mother about it. She could hear Bo stirring, but this was not the kind of thing to tell your father about. Instead of making breakfast she called her friend Virginia. “I need someone to talk to,” she told her. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

They met at a coffee shop near the Presidio. Ginny was a petite blonde, funny and honest. She would always tell Judy exactly what she thought. Judy ordered two chocolate croissants to make herself feel better, then related what had happened last night.

When she came to the part where she burst in with her gun in her hand and found them screwing, Ginny practically fell down laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said, and got a piece of toast stuck in her throat.

“I guess it is kind of funny,” Judy said, smiling. “But it didn’t seem that way last night, I can tell you.”

Ginny coughed and swallowed. “I don’t mean to be cruel,” she said when she had recovered. “I can see it wasn’t too hilarious at the time. What he did was really sleazy, dating you and sleeping with his wife.”

“To me, it shows that he’s not over her,” Judy said. “So he’s not ready for a new relationship.”

Ginny made a doubtful face. “I don’t necessarily buy that.”

“You think it was like a good-bye, one last embrace for old times’ sake?”

“Maybe even simpler. You know, men almost never say no to a fuck if it’s offered to them. It sounds as if he’s been living the life of a monk since she left him. His hormones are probably giving him hell. She’s attractive, you say?”

“Very sexy looking.”

“So if she walked in wearing a tight sweater and started making moves on him, he probably couldn’t help getting a hard-on. And once that happens, a man’s brain cuts out and the autopilot in his dick takes control.”

“You think so?”

“Listen, I’ve never met Michael, but I’ve known some men, good and bad, and that’s my take on the scenario.”