Shadows of Annihilation by S M Stirling

Author:S M Stirling [Stirling, S M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Espionage, Science Fiction, Action & Adventure, Alternative History
ISBN: 9780399586279
Google: GrXPDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07T3XDZK9
Goodreads: 49568950
Publisher: Ace
Published: 2020-03-15T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

—

The modest pink structure was next to an open lot behind a chest-high stucco wall and was labeled . . .

“Fred Foreman’s Fords, Sales, Rentals, and Repairs,” Luz read.

The Spanish translation below was understandable but a little eccentric: Los Ford de Fred Foreman—Ventas, Rentas, Reparos.

“A Ford dealership! The gazetteer said so, but it still seems . . . surreal.”

They stepped through into an office waiting room decorated with dealership calendars and the usual patriotic prints, including one of Uncle Teddy riding up San Juan Hill with a bandana around his hat. A tall slim thirtyish man with carroty hair, jug ears, and freckles dressed in a rather loud checked suit and bow tie jumped up from behind a counter, smiling broadly.

“Fred Foreman, ladies!” he said in an overly friendly voice, radiating trustworthiness with an extended hand. “What can I do for you?”

“A Guvvie, please,” Luz said, giving it enough of a squeeze to make him blink. “New, if possible.”

She also gave their cover story and names, which by no coincidence whatsoever made it perfectly logical that a pair of young ladies would want such a rugged and masculine piece of engineering. Many of the local roads had been improved, but a lot hadn’t yet.

Guvvie was short for General Utility Vehicle. A young man named Jesse Livingood had invented them a few years ago, just when the Intervention was getting underway, essentially by replacing the front axle of a Model T with a second back one, adding a front driveshaft, a differential case, and a few bits and pieces. It wasn’t fast and even compared to a standard Model T it wasn’t pretty, but with all four wheels pulling and the Model T’s high clearance and ruggedness it could climb like a goat and take fantastic degrees of abuse.

“Well, I have three, but they’re used, government surplus,” the man said. “I have the Ford Model T touring car model and the light trucks new, but not that. Guvvies really move around here, ma’am—half the hacendados have one now. Why, the president himself—”

“Owns four, yes, I know, Mr. Foreman,” Luz said.

Which was true. Ranchers and gentleman farmers and those with aspirations in that direction often did, especially those who’d used them in the Army. Uncle Teddy had been the first president ever to drive an auto himself, back in the opening years of the century, and he loved driving a Guvvie off the roads on western hunting trips.

Strong men blanched when invited to go along.

A plumpishly pretty mestiza in her twenties came through a door behind the counter to take Fred Foreman’s place while he dealt with the clients. She wore a good American-style gray day dress with a lace collar and had a baby in the crook of her arm. A two-year-old in a sailor suit peeked out from behind her skirts; the paternal origin of both was obvious, and a younger woman, heavily pregnant, put her head through the door. She looked like a sister to the first, and took the baby when it was handed to her.

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