'We can burn wood,' Julia said. 'Tell him that.'

'Ms Shumway says we can burn wood.'

'Ifeople have to be careful about that, Captain Barbara—Barbie. Sure, you've got plenty of wood up there and you don't need electricity to ignite it and keep it going, but wood produces ash. Hell, it produces carcinogens.'

'Heating season here starts…' Barbie looked at Julia.

'November fifteenth,' she said. 'Or thereabouts.'

'Ms Shumway says mid-November. So tell me you're going to have this worked out by then.'

'All I can say is that we intend to try like hell. Which brings me :o the point of this conversation. The smart boys—the ones we've been able to convene so far—all agree that we're dealing with a forcefield—'

'Just like on Star Trick' Barbie said. 'Beam me up, Snotty.'

'Beg your pardon?'

'Doesn't matter. Go on, sir.'

'They all agree that a force field doesn't just happen. Something either close to the field of effect or in the center of it has to generate it. Our guys think the center is most likely. "Like the handle of an umbrella," one of them said.'

'You think this is an inside job?'

'We think it's a possibility. And we just happen to have a decorated soldier in town—'

Ex-soldier, Barbie thought. And the decorations went into the Gulf of Mexico eighteen months ago. But he had an idea his term of service had just been extended, like it or not. Held over by popular demand, as the saying went.

'-whose specialty in Iraq was hunting down Al Qaecla bomb factories. Hunting them down and shutting them down.'

So. Basically just another gennie. He thought of all those he and Julia Shumway had passed on the way out here, roariag away in the dark, providing heat and light. Eating propane to do it. He realized that propane and storage batteries, even more than food, had become the new gold standard in Chester's Mill. One thing he knew: people would burn wood. If it got cold and the propane was gone, they'd burn plenty. Hardwood, softwood, trashwood. And fuck the carcinogens.

'It won't be like the generators working away in youi part of the world tonight.' Cox said. 'A thing that could do this… we don't know what it would be like, or who could build such a thing.'

'But Uncle Sammy wants it,' Barbie said. He was gripping the phone almost tightly enough to crack it. 'That's actually the priority, isn't it? Sir? Because a thing like that could change the wcrld.The people of this town are strictly secondary. Collateral damage, in fact.'

'Oh, let's not be melodramatic,' Cox said. 'In this matter our interests coincide. Find the generator, if it's there to be found. Find it the way you found those bomb factories, and then shut it down. Problem solved.'

'If it's there.'

'If it's there, roger that. Will you try?'

'Do I have a choice?'

'Not that I can see, but I'm career military. For us, free will isn't an option.'

'Ken, this is one fucked-up fire drill.'

Cox was slow to reply. Although there was silence on the line (except for a faint high hum that might mean the proceedings were being recorded), Barbie could almost hear him reflecting. Then he said: 'That's true, but you still get all the good shit, you bitch.' Barbie laughed. He couldn't help it.

On the way back, passing the dark shape that was Christ the Holy Redeemer Church, he turned to Julia. In the glow of the dashboard lights, her face looked tired and solemn.

'1 won't tell you to keep quiet about any of this,' he said, 'but I think you should hold one thing back.'

'The generator that may or may not be in town.' She took a hand off the wheel, reached back, and stroked Horace's head, as if for comfort and reassurance.

'Yes.'

'Because if there's a generator spinning the field—creating your Colonel's Dome—then somebody must be running it. Somebody here.'

'Cox didn't say that, but I'm sure it's what he thinks.'

'I'll—withhold that. And I won't e-mail any pictures.'

'Good.'

'They should run first in the Democrat anyway, dammit.' Julia continued stroking the dog. People who drove one-handed usually made Barbie nervous, but not tonight. They had both Little Bitch and 119 to themselves.'Also, I understand that sometimes the greater good is more important than a great story. Unlike the New York Times!

'Zing,' Barbie said.

'And if you find the generator, I won't have to spend too many days shopping at Food City. I hate that place.' She looked startled. 'Do you think it'll even be open tomorrow?'

'I'd say yes. People can be slow to catch up with the new deal when the old deal changes.'

'I think I better do a little Sunday shopping,' she said thoughtfully.

'When you do, say hello to Rose Twitchell. She'll probably have the faithful Anson Wheeler with her.' Remembering his earlier advice to Rose, he laughed and said: 'Meat, meat, meat.'

'Beg your pardon?'

'If you have a generator at your house—'

'Of course I do, I live over the newspaper. Not a house; a very nice apartment. The generator was a tax deduction.' She said this proudly.

'Then buy meat. Meat and canned goods, canned goods and meat.'

She thought about it. Downtown was just ahead now. There were far fewer lights than usual, but still plenty. For how long? Barbie wondered. Then Julia asked, 'Did your Colonel give you any ideas about how to find this generator?'

'Nope,' Barbie said. 'Finding shit used to be my job. He knows that.' He paused, then asked: 'Do you think there might be a Geiger counter in town?'

'I know there is. In the basement of the Town Hall. Actually the subbasement, I guess you'd say. There's a fallout shelter there.'

'You're shittin me!'

She laughed. 'No shit, Sherlock. I did a feature story on it three years ago. Pete Freeman took the pictures. In the basement there's a big conference room and a little kitchen. The shelter's half a flight of stairs down from the kitchen. Pretty good-sized. It was built in the fifties, when the smart money was on us blowing ourselves to hell.'

'On the Beach,' Barbie said.

'Yep, see you that and raise you Alas, Babylon. It's a pretty depressing place. Pete's pictures reminded me of the Fuhrerbunker, just before the end. There's a kind of pantry—shelves and shelves of canned goods—and half a dozen cots. Also some equipment supplied by the government. Including a Geiger counter.'