Barry nodded. Without the computers they would have to close down all but a couple dozen of the tanks. Without the parts for the generator, they would have to cut down on electricity, start burning wood for warmth, to cook with, read by tallow candles. Without the boats they could not travel to the cities, where their supplies were rotting away more each season. Without the new supply of workers and explorers they could not maintain the bypass road around the falls, maintain the rivers so that the paddle boats could navigate them…

"You ever read that poem about the want of a nail?" he asked.

"No," Lawrence said, and looked at him questioningly. Barry shook his head.

They watched the crew working on the boat for a few minutes, and then Barry said, "Lawrence, how good are the younger brothers at boat building?"

"The best," Lawrence said promptly.

"I don't mean just following orders. I mean, has one of the younger brothers come up with an idea you could use?"

Lawrence turned to study him again. "What's bothering you, Barry?"

"Have they?"

Lawrence frowned and was silent for what seemed a long time. Finally he shrugged. "I don't think so. I can't remember. But then, Lewis has such clear ideas of what it has to be, I doubt if anyone would even think of contradicting him, or adding to anything he has planned."

Barry nodded. "I thought so," he said, and walked away on the snow-cleared path, edged on either side by a white fence as high as his head. "And it never used to snow this much, either," he said to himself. There. He had said it aloud. He thought he probably was the first one of the inhabitants to say that. It never used to snow this much.

Later that day he sent for Mark, and when the boy stood before him, he asked, "What are the woods like in the winter, when there's snow like now?"

Mark looked guilty for a moment. He shrugged.

"I know you've managed to learn to walk with snowshoes," Barry said. "And you ski. I've seen your trail leading up into the woods. What is it like?"

Now Mark's eyes seemed to glow with blue fires, and a smile formed, then left. He ducked his head. "Not like summer," he said. "Stiller. And it's pretty." Suddenly he blushed and became silent.

"More dangerous?" Barry asked.

"I guess so. You can't see dips, they fill up with snow, and sometimes snow hangs on ridges so you can't be real sure where the land ends. You could go over an edge that way. I guess, if you didn't know about it."

"I want to train our children in getting around on snowshoes and skis. They might have to be in the woods in winter. They have to have some training. Can they find enough material to make fires?"

Mark nodded.