Vicky Peterwald: Survivor (Vicky Peterwald Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

continent out in the back and beyond of Sevastopol when the need had arisen for a soldier. She’d mustered ranchers and distant farmers who had been allowed hunting rifles even under the old regime. A few retired Navy hands strengthened her organizational skills, and, suddenly, Sevastopol had an army.
    “Now we’re standing up a National Guard. On old Earth, there’s an animal called the porcupine,” Colonel White said. “Sharp spines all over it. No one bothers it.”
    “I doubt you’ll be bothered either,” Vicky offered.
    “In a pig’s eye,” Mary spat. “We lose the Navy and we lose the high ground. Are we going to lose the Navy?”
    “Not if the Navy has any say in the matter,” Vicky said, but aware of how insecure any meeting might be, she named no names.
    Mary, the new-made colonel, didn’t look all that reassured.
    Most of the remaining attendees were businesspeople, with only two women among them. Two were farmers who also had large ranching spreads in the valleys beyond the hills. All wanted to know what Vicky knew of matters on Greenfeld and how those would impact them.
    Vicky answered with a shrug. “If this were a fairy tale, I’d say my father was under the spell of a witch. Unfortunately, this is no fairy tale, and what we are seeing is a middle-agedman making a fool of himself with his new, much younger bride. The Bowlingame family in the meantime is taking full advantage of his distraction to grab for power and wealth. You are lucky to be this far out. It’s worse closer in.”
    “And I hear say that you talked the mayors into us making ourselves a target,” one of the ranchers said.
    “I’ve suggested that you expand your sphere of influence to include all the resources you need to make a successful go of it in the present circumstances,” Vicky said. “I don’t know who said that ‘No man is an island,’ but you know you aren’t. You, sir, grow cows and crops. They feed the hungry city. You get wondrous things like the clothes on your back and those nice boots on your feet. You want to make a go of it on your own?”
    The man raised his glass in salute and took a sip of the fine liquor. “I do like the finer things in life.”
    “For others out there, it’s not a case of the finer things in life, sir,” Vicky said, taking the offered opportunity to drive home her point. “There’s not enough of any of the basic things they need for daily living. Not even food. People are literally starving to death. I saw it when we passed through their systems headed out here.”
    Vicky paused, hunting for a conclusion. “We built a civilization to provide us with the things that make life worth enjoying. Now that civilization is tearing itself apart at the seams. Civilized people count on each other for the basics of life as well as the luxuries. All that has vanished for a lot of people. Together, we can bring it back to them.”
    Vicky glanced around the room. “You here on St. Petersburg can do something about it. Not for everyone, but for some. Do you really want to turn your back on a starving child?”
    “That’s a strange argument coming from a Peterwald,” an older man, his paunch hanging over his belt, said. He’d been introduced as George Gatewood, an industrialist.
    Vicky nodded. “I’m hearing that a lot. It kind of surprises me, too.”
    That brought a round of silence, but it was an expectant silence.
    “I don’t know why my dad decided to send my brother to the Navy. All his upbringing had been business, but there was Hank one morning at the breakfast table in a Navy commodore’suniform. I thought he looked so handsome and grown-up. We women have a weakness for guys in uniforms, don’t we?”
    Two of the women present nodded agreement.
    Mary’s grin was almost a leer. “A regular chick magnet.”
    Vicky went on.
    “Six months later, my brother was dead. I spent much of the next year trying to kill the woman I thought had killed him. You may have heard about