“Other hand,” Oliver argued, “you wouldn't want to spread the plague to the western states either. Now would you? Unholy predicament the man finds himself in — feel for him, sort of. If you and I had started across that bridge he wouldn't have hesitated to shoot because his orders said to shoot. But lacking orders what would he have done? If his wife started across, what would he do? Or his kids? Can a man obey orders and shoot his wife and children? Matter would be squarely up to his conscience. Most difficult to answer.”
“Nuts, officers don't have them.”
“Officers do, but you can't see it. I don't think I'd like to watch the lieutenant make a decision like that.”
“I'll stick with this, thanks.” He turned and put his arm about Sally's waist. “Just like a six-month leave.”
“Likewise.” Oliver stared absently at his sagging line and then again at the distant horizon, his thoughts presently returning to the bedeviled officer. “I consider his present position untenable; couldn't hold it myself but have to admire his guts for staying. Wonder if he can hold out as long as a year?”
Gary was startled. “You think this might last a whole year?”
“Not surprising.” Oliver tightened his line quickly, watching it intently for a moment before relaxing. “Quite possible as a matter of fact. Keep us quarantined as long as there remains a shred of doubt — and that can be a long time.” He shifted his feet on the sandy bottom and turned to allow the sun to warm his chest and stomach. “I'm not too impatient. Now if I were in their place — headquarters that is — I'd send patrols across all the bridges periodically to take samples and make tests. Send them far inland.”
“What for?” Gary asked. “What tests?”
“Water, soil, grain, cattle if any are still to be found. Sample the swamps and the mountain ridges. Take specimens of paint peeling from buildings, almost any substance capable of concealing a foreign body.”
“Sometimes you sound like a schoolteacher.”