Ben and Ike and Cecil sat stunned. Ike finally blurted, “What the hell was it gonna whelp?”
“What appeared to be a perfectly normal human baby.” He paused. “Until I examined its hands. They were clawed. Its feet were pure animal.
“All right, gentlemen, as to why. After an all-night conference, we have agreed on this: The mutant beings, and that is what they are, have some degree of intelligence. I would venture to say that some probably have more than others, and they come in varying stages of mutation. Doctors have always predicted this would happen. We are the first generation to actually see it.
“In some, the radiation and germ warheads caused only minor physical changes; in others the alteration was radical and grotesque. The radiation and germs have slowed growth in some areas of the body, primarily the brain, drastically speeded it up in other areas. I think, as more and more of these mutants are found, we shall see that all experienced changes in brain size, shape, and function.
“Probably beginning a year after the bombings of 1988, some women began birthing mutants, babies whose growth cycle was speeded up five to ten times the normal rate. Perhaps at two years of age, a child might be six feet tall and weigh two hundred pounds—and be retarded to some degree. If the child were a twin, the other might be perfectly normal in every way.
“Understand, this is all hypothesis on my part.
“Those who were born in the sparsely populated rural areas of the world were possibly sometimes killed by the attending doctor or midwife. Some were possibly raised out of fast puberty and ran off into the woods. Some might have been taken into the woods and left to die. Some died, others lived, to live as animals. Some might even have been raised by animals—it’s occurred before—to be as animals.
“Because there were so few humans left—as compared to the population before the bombings—the mutants were seldom seen by humans. That, coupled with the mutants’ seemingly inbred animal-like wariness and suspicion of normal human beings.
“Then they found each other and began copulating. I think it’s a good bet we’ll see more of them.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” Ike said.
“I’m not wrong,” Chase predicted. “You’ll see.”
“I can hardly wait,” Cecil said dryly.
EIGHT
“We are leaderless,” the voice spoke. “The world is tumbling about in chaos. The population is dying by the millions. God has spoken. Fall down on your knees and seek the Lord God in prayer. He…”
A shot ended the impromptu sermon.
A harsher voice took the mike. The station was not identified.
“Get off your knees, brothers!” the voice shouted. “Now is the time to rise up and kill the white devils!”
“Oh, good Lord!” Cecil said. He stood with a group of rebels, all gathered in and around the communications shack in south Arkansas. They listened to various stations pop back on the air, most at the hands of amateurs. Some preached love, some called for reason, some shouted hate. “Not this again.”
A stronger signal cut in, overriding the first signal. “Don’t nobody listen to that nigger,” a man’s voice spoke. “You coons bes’ stay in yore places if you know what’s good for you. All praise the invisible empire!”
“I had hoped that insanity was dead and gone,” someone said.
“Not as long as there are two humans left alive,” Ben said. “With just one cell of ignorance between them.”
“Praise God!” a woman’s voice implored.
“There ain’t no God!” a man’s voice overrode her.
Other stations popped on the air. Wild-screaming lay preachers; people who were seeking news of relatives; men and women preaching hate and love and brotherhood and violence; peace and profanity—racists on both sides of the color line.
“Proves one thing,” Jane Dolbeau said.
Heads turned to look at the woman.
She met their gaze. “We are not alone.”
No, the Rebels were far from being alone. In the northern part of the Midwest, Sam Hartline had gathered men and women around him and laid claim to the entire state of Wisconsin.
Cults were being formed all over the nation, and men and women who were weary of sickness and death, tired of tragedy and unrest, sick of troubles and heartbreak, were rushing to join any group that might promise them some peace and tenderness and a few moments of happiness.
Standard, accepted, organized religion was taking a beating all over the world as many survivors turned a blind face to the teachings of Jesus and the Commandments handed Moses from God.
Nothing He had promised came true. If He was a truly compassionate God, He would not have allowed anything like these troubles to befall a nation.
Would He?
The answer came back a silent No.
Then we must look elsewhere.
“Why, General,” Rosita propped her trim butt on one corner of Ben’s desk, “haven’t any mutants been born in any Rebel camp? Or,” her eyes searched his face, “have there been and no one is talking?”
“No,” Ben assured her. “We’ve had no such births. That’s what Doctor Chase and I were just discussing. Doctor Chase has a theory on it, but he has a theory on nearly everything.” Ben smiled. “Whether you want to hear it or not.”
“I resent that,” Chase said. “But please continue, Ben. I’ll stand by to correct any misstatement you attribute to me.”
“Proper diet,” Ben said. “Good medical facilities and prompt treatment. Hard work, adequate rest and play time, very little stress, lots of happiness and contentment. We had all those things in the Tri-States. I think they had something to do with it. Maybe not.”
Rosita looked at Chase. He smiled reassuringly. “He left out the most important word, dear: Luck.”
After Rosita left, Ben looked at the ceiling and muttered, “I just don’t understand it.”
“If you’re talking to yourself, Ben—watch it. When you start answering yourself, let me know, I’ll prescribe something.”
“I was thinking out loud, Lamar: two worldwide horrors in such a short time.” He shook his head. “I just don’t understand it.”
“You want an opinion from me?”
Ben smiled. “It doesn’t make any difference whether I want it or not, you’ll give it.”
Nothing daunted Chase; his skin was iron. “I don’t think we had much at all to do with it. Maybe,” the doctor pointed upward, “He grew weary of how the human race had so screwed up His world, He’s giving the people one more chance to correct it. I believe He is going to reduce this world—or regress its inhabitants might be better words—right back to the caves. Then He is going to say: All right, people, let’s start all over. And this time around, try to do a little better, huh?’”
Ben looked at the man for several heartbeats. “Do you really believe that, Lamar?”
“Yes, son, I do.” He bobbed his head affirmatively.
“Come on, Lamar, you’ve got something else on your mind—let’s have it.”
“You won’t like it, Ben.”
“I didn’t like shots of penicillin when I was sixteen, either; but I had the clap.”
Chase grimaced, then laughed. “You do turn such a delicate phrase, boy. All right. You’ve got approximately six thousand people in this area. We’re going to rebuild. But what are we going to rebuild, Ben? Ben… your people more than love you—they
