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The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress Part 16

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"Odd that you should pick that, something like it did happen. I saw my attorney and made sure she got no alimony."

"'Alimony' isn't a word here; I learned it Earthside. Here you might-or a Loonie husband might-say, 'I think we'll need a bigger place, dear.' Or might simply congratulate her and his new co-husband. Or if it made him so unhappy he couldn't stand it, might opt out and pack clothes. But whatever, would not make slightest fuss. If he did, opinion would be unanimous against him. His friends, men and women alike, would snub him. Poor sod would probably move to Novylen, change name and hope to live it down.

"All our customs work that way. If you're out in field and a cobber needs air, you lend him a bottle and don't ask cash. But when you're both back in pressure again, if he won't pay up, n.o.body would criticize if you eliminated him without a judge. But he would pay; air is almost as sacred as women. If you take a new chum in a poker game, you give him air money. Not eating money; can work or starve. If you eliminate a man other than self-defense, you pay his debts and support his kids, or people won't speak to you, buy from you, sell to you."

"Mannie, you're telling me that I can murder a man here and settle the matter merely with money?"

"Oh, not at all! But eliminating isn't against some law; are no laws-except Warden's regulations-and Warden doesn't care what one Loonie does to another. But we figure this way: If a man is killed, either he had it coming and everybody knows it-usual case-or his friends will take care of it by eliminating man who did it. Either way, no problem. Nor many eliminations. Even set duels aren't common."



"'His friends will take care of it.' Mannie, suppose those young people had gone ahead? I have no friends here."

"Was reason I agreed to judge. While I doubt if those kids could have egged each other into it, didn't want to take chance. Eliminating a tourist could give our city a bad name."

"Does it happen often?"

"Can't recall has ever happened. Of course may have been made to look like accident. A new chum is accident-p.r.o.ne; Luna is that sort of place. They say if a new chum lives a year, he'll live forever. But n.o.body sells him insurance first year." Glanced at time. "Stu, have you had dinner?"

"No, and I was about to suggest that you come to my hotel. The cooking is good. Auberge Orleans."

I repressed shudder-ate there once. "Instead, would you come home with me and meet my family? We have soup or something about this hour."

"Isn't that an imposition?"

"No. Half a minute while I phone."

Mum said, "Manuel! How sweet, dear! Capsule has been in for hours; I had decided it would be tomorrow or later."

"Just drunken debauchery, Mimi, and evil companions. Coming home now if can remember way-and bringing evil companion."

"Yes, dear. Dinner in twenty minutes; try not to be late."

"Don't you want to know whether my evil companion is male or female?"

"Knowing you, I a.s.sume that it is female. But I fancy I shall be able to tell when I see her."

"You know me so well, Mum. Warn girls to look pretty; wouldn't want a visitor to outs.h.i.+ne them."

"Don't be too long; dinner will spoil. 'Bye, dear. Love."

"Love, Mum." I waited, then punched MYCROFTx.x.x. "Mike, want a name searched. Earthside name, pa.s.senger in Popov. Stuart Rene LaJoie. Stuart with a U and last name might file under either L or J."

Didn't wait many seconds; Mike found Stu in all major Earthside references: Who's Who, Dun & Bradstreet, Almanach de Gotha, London Times running files, name it. French expatriate, royalist, wealthy, six more names sandwiched into ones he used, three university degrees including one in law from Sorbonne, n.o.ble ancestry both France and Scotland, divorced (no children) from Honorable Pamela Hyphen-Hyphen-Blueblood. Sort of earthworm who wouldn't speak to a Loonie of convict ancestry-except Stu would speak to anyone.

I listened a pair of minutes, then asked Mike to prepare a full dossier, following all a.s.sociational leads. "Mike, might be our pigeon."

"Could be, Man."

"Got to run. 'Bye." Returned thoughtfully to my guest. Almost a year earlier, during alcoholic talk-talk in a hotel room, Mike had promised us one chance in seven-if certain things were done. One sine-qua-non was help on Terra itself.

Despite "throwing rocks," Mike knew, we all knew, that mighty Terra with eleven billion people and endless resources could not be defeated by three million who had nothing, even though we stood on a high place and could drop rocks on them.

Mike drew parallels from XVIIIth century, when Britain's American colonies broke away, and from XXth, when many colonies became independent of several empires, and pointed out that in no case had a colony broken loose by brute force. No, in every case imperial state was busy elsewhere, had grown weary and given up without using full strength.

For months we had been strong enough, had we wished, to overcome Warden's bodyguards. Once our catapult was ready (anytime now) we would not be helpless. But we needed a "favorable climate" on Terra. For that we needed help on Terra.

Prof had not regarded it as difficult. But turned out to be quite difficult. His Earthside friends were dead or nearly and I had never had any but a few teachers. We sent inquiry down through cells: "What vips do you know Earthaide?" and usual answer was: "You kidding?" Null program- Prof watched pa.s.senger lists on incoming s.h.i.+ps, trying to figure a contact, and had been reading Luna print-outs of Earthside newspapers, searching for vips he could reach through past connection. I had not tried; handful I had met on Terra were not vips.

Prof had not picked Stu off Popov's pa.s.senger list. But Prof had not met him. I didn't not know whether Stu was simply eccentric as odd personal card seemed to show. But he was only Terran I had ever had a drink with in Luna, seemed a d.i.n.k.u.m cobber, and Mike's report showed hunch was not all bad; he carried some tonnage.

So I took him home to see what family thought of him.

Started well. Mum smiled and offered hand. He took it and bowed so deep I thought he was going to kiss it-would have, I think, had I not warned him about fems. Mum was cooing as she led him in to dinner.

12

April and May '76 were more hard work and increasing effort to stir up Loonies against Warden, and goad him into retaliation. Trouble with Mort the Wart was that he was not a bad egg, nothing to hate about him other than fact he was symbol of Authority; was necessary to frighten him to get him to do anything. And average Loonie was just as bad. He despised Warden as matter of ritual but was not stuff that makes revolutionists; he couldn't be bothered. Beer, betting, women, and work-Only thing that kept Revolution from dying of anemia was that Peace Dragoons had real talent for antagonizing.

But even them we had to keep stirred up. Prof kept saying we needed a "Boston Tea Party," referring to mythical incident in an earlier revolution, by which he meant a public ruckus to grab attention.

We kept trying. Mike rewrote lyrics of old revolutionary songs: "Ma.r.s.eillaise," "Internationale," "Yankee Doodle," "We Shall Overcome," "Pie in the Sky," etc., giving them words to fit Luna. Stuff like "Sons of Rock and Boredom/Will you let the Warden/Take from you your libertee!" Simon Jester spread them around, and when one took hold, we pushed it (music only) by radio and video. This put Warden in silly position of forbidding playing of certain tunes-which suited us; people could whistle.

Mike studied voice and word-choice patterns of Deputy Administrator, Chief Engineer, other department heads; Warden started getting frantic calls at night from his staff. Which they denied making. So Alvarez put lock-and-trace on next one-and sure enough, with Mike's help, Alvarez traced it to supply chief's phone and was sure it was boss belly-robber's voice.

But next poison call to Mort seemed to come from Alvarez, and what Mort had to say next day to Alvarez and what Alvaiez said in own defense can only be described as chaotic crossed with psychotic.

Prof had Mike stop; was afraid Alvarez might lose job, which we did not want; he was doing too well for us. But by then Peace Dragoons had been dragged out twice in night on what seemed to be Warden's orders, further disrupting morale, and Warden became convinced he was surrounded by traitors in official family while they were sure he had blown every circult.

An ad appeared in Lunaya Pravda announcing lecture by Dr. Adam Selene on Poetry and Arts in Luna: a New Renaissance. No comrade attended; word went down cells to stay away. Nor did anybody hang around when three squads of Peace Dragoons showed up-this involves Heisenberg principle as applied to Scarlet Pimpernels. Editor of Pravda spent bad hour explaining that he did not accept ads in person and this one was ordered over counter and paid for in cash. He was told not to take ads from Adam Selene. This was countermanded and he was told to take anything from Adam Selene but notify Alvarez at once.

New catapult was tested with a load dropped into south Indian Ocean at 350 E., 600 S., a spot used only by fish. Mike was joyed over his marksmans.h.i.+p since he had been able to sneak only two looks when guidance & tracking radars were not in use and had relied on just one nudge to bring it to bullseye. Earthside news reported giant meteor in sub-Antarctic picked up by Capetown s.p.a.cetrack with projected impact that matched Mike's attempt perfectly-Mike called me to boast while taking down evening's Reuters transmission. "I told you it was dead on," he gloated. "I watched it. Oh, what a lovely splas.h.!.+" Later reports on shock wave from seismic labs and on tsunamis from oceanographic stations were consistent.

Was only canister we had ready (trouble buying steel) or Mike might have demanded to try his new toy again.

Liberty Caps started appearing on stilyagi and their girls; Simon Jester began wearing one between his horns. Bon Marche gave them away as premiums. Alvarez had painful talk with Warden in which Mort demanded to know if his fink boss felt that something should be done every time kids took up fad? Had Alvarez gone out of his mind?

I ran across Slim Lemke on Carver Causeway early May; he was wearing a Liberty Cap. He seemed pleased to see me and I thanked him for prompt payment (he had come in three days after Stu's trial and paid Sidris thirty Hong Kong, for gang) and bought him a cooler. While we were seated I asked why young people were wearing red hats? Why a hat? Hat's were an earthworm custom, nyet?

He hesitated, then said was sort of a lodge, like Elks. I changed subject. Learned that his full name was Moses Lemke Stone; member of Stone Gang. This pleased me, we were relatives. But surprised me. However, even best families such as Stones sometimes can't always find marriages for all sons; I had been lucky or might have been roving corridors at his age, too. Told him about our connection on my mother's side.

He warmed up and shortly said, "Cousin Manuel, ever think about how we ought to elect our own Warden?"

I said No, I hadn't; Authority appointed him and I supposed they always would. He asked why we had to have an Authority? I asked who had been putting ideas in head? He insisted n.o.body had, just thinking, was all-didn't he have a right to think?

When I got home was tempted to check with Mike, find out lad's Party name if any. But wouldn't have been proper security, nor fair to Slim.

On 3 May '76 seventy-one males named Simon were rounded up and questioned, then released. No newspaper carned story. But everybody heard it; we were clear down in "J's" and twelve thousand people can spread a story faster than I would have guessed. We emphasized that one of these dangerous males was only four years old, which was not true but very effective.

Stu Lajoie stayed with us during February and March and did not return to Terra until early April; he changed his ticket to next s.h.i.+p and then to next. When I pointed out that he was riding close to invisible line where irreversible physiological changes could set in, he grinned and told me not to worry. But made arrangements to use centrifuge.

Stu did not want to leave even by April. Was kissed goodbye with tears by all my wives and Wyoh, and he a.s.sured each one he was coming back. But left as he had work to do; by then he was a Party member.

I did not take part in decision to recruit Stu; I felt prejudiced. Wyoh and Prof and Mike were unanimous in risking it; I happily accepted their judgment.

We all helped to sell Stu LaJoie-self, Prof, Mike, Wyoh, Mum, even Sidris and Lenore and Ludmilla and our kids and Hans and Ali and Frank, as Davis home life was what grabbed him first. Did not hurt that Lenore was prettiest girl in L-City-which is no disparagement of Milla, Wyoh, Anna, and Sidris. Nor did it hurt that Stu could charm a baby away from breast. Mom fussed over him, Hans showed him hydroponic farming and Stu got dirty and sweaty and sloshed around in tunnels with our boys-helped harvest our Chinee fishponds-got stung by our bees-learned to handle a p-suit and went up with me to make adjustments on solar battery-helped Anna butcher a hog and learned about tanning leather-sat with Grandpaw and was respectful to his naive notions about Terra-washed dishes with Milla, something no male in our family ever did-rolled on floor with babies and puppies-learned to grind flour and swapped recipes with Mum.

I introduced him to Prof and that started political side of feeling him out. Nothing had been admitted-we could back away-when Prof introduced him to "Adam Selene" who could visit only by phone as he was "in Hong Kong at present." By time Stu was committed to Cause, we dropped pretense and let him know that Adam was chairman whom he would not meet in person for security reasons.

But Wyoh did most and was on her judgment that Prof turned cards up and let Stu know that we were building a revolution. Was no surprise; Stu had made up mind and was waiting for us to trust him.

They say a face once launched a thousand s.h.i.+ps. I do not know that Wyoh used anything but argument on Stu. I never tried to find out. But Wyoh had more to do with committing me than all Prof's theory or Mike's figures. If Wyoh used even stronger methods on Stu, she was not first heroine in history to do so for her country.

Stu went Earthside with a special codebook. I'm no code and cipher expert except that a computerman learns principles during study of information theory. A cipher is a mathematical pattern under which one letter subst.i.tutes for another, simplest being one in which alphabet is merely scrambled.

A cipher can be incredibly subtle, especially with help of a computer. But ciphers all have weakness that they are patterns. If one computer can think them up, another computer can break them.

Codes do not have same weakness. Let's say that codebook has letter group GLOPS. Does this mean "Aunt Minnie will be home Thursday" or does it mean "3.14157 . . . "?

Meaning is whatever you a.s.sign and no computer can a.n.a.lyze it simply from letter group. Give a computer enough groups and a rational theory involving meanings or subjects for meanings, and it will eventually worry it out because meanings themselves will show patterns. But is a problem of different kind on more difficult level.

Code we selected was commonest commercial codebook, used both on Terra and in Luna for commercial dispatches. But we worked it over. Prof and Mike spent hours discussing what information Party might wish to send to its agent on Terra, or receive from agent, then Mike put his vast information to work and came up with new set of meanings for codebook, ones that could say "Buy Thai rice futures" as easily as "Run for life; they've caught us." Or anything, as cipher signals were buried in it to permit anything to be said that had not been antic.i.p.ated.

Late one night Mike made print-out of new code via Lunaya Pravda's facilities, and night editor turned roll over to another comrade who converted it into a very small roll of film and pa.s.sed it along in turn, and none ever knew what they handled or why. Wound up in Stu's pouch. Search of off-planet luggage was tight by then and conducted by bad-tempered Dragoons-but Stu was certain he would have no trouble. Perhaps he swallowed it.

Thereafter some of LuNoHo Company's dispatches to Terra reached Stu via his London broker.

Part of purpose was financial. Party needed to spend money Earthside; LuNoHoCo transferred money there (not all stolen, some ventures turned out well); Party needed still more money Earthside, Stu was to speculate, acting on secret knowledge of plan of Revolution-he, Prof, and Mike had spent hours discussing what stocks would go up, what would go down, etc., after Der Tag. This was Prof's pidgin; I am not that sort of gambler.

But money was needed before Der Tag to build "climate of opinion." We needed publicity, needed delegates and senators in Federated Nations, needed some nation to recognize us quickly once The Day came, we needed laymen telling other laymen over a beer: "What is there on that pile of rock worth one soldier's life? Let 'em go to h.e.l.l in their own way, I say!"

Money for publicity, money for bribes, money for dummy organizations and to infiltrate established organizations; money to get true nature of Luna's economy (Stu had gone loaded with figures) brought out as scientific research, then in popular form; money to convince foreign office of at least one major nation that there was advantage in a Free Luna; money to sell idea of Lunar tourism to a major cartel- Too much money! Stu offered own fortune and Prof did not discourage it-Where treasure is, heart will be. But still too much money and far too much to do. I did not know if Stu could swing a tenth of it; simply kept fingers crossed. At least it gave us a channel to Terra. Prof claimed that communications to enemy were essential to any war if was to be fought and settled sensibly. (Prof was a pacifist. Like his vegetarianism, he did not let it keep him from being "rational." Would have made a terrific theologian.) As soon as Stu went Earthside, Mike set odds at one in thirteen. I asked him what in h.e.l.l? "But, Man," he explained patiently, "it increases risk. That it is necessary risk does not change the fact that risk is increased."

I shut up. About that time, early May, a new factor reduced some risks while revealing others. One part of Mike handled Terra-Luna microwave traffic-commercial messages, sciet.i.tific data, news channels, video, voice radiotelephony, routine Authority traffic-and Warden's top secret.

Aside from last, Mike could read any of this including commercial codes and ciphers-breaking ciphers was a crossword puzzle to him and n.o.body mistrusted this machine. Except Warden, and I suspect that his was distrust of all machinery; was sort of person who finds anything more involved than a pair of scissors complex, mysterious, and suspect-Stone Age mind.

Warden used a code that Mike never saw. Also used ciphers and did not work them through Mike; instead he had a moronic little machine in residence office. On top of this he had arrangement with Authority Earthside to switch everything around at preset times. No doubt he felt safe.

Mike broke his cipher patterns and deduced time-change program just to try legs. He did not tackle code until Prof suggested it; it held no interest for him.

But once Prof asked, Mike tackled Warden's top-secret messages. He had to start from scratch; in past Mike had erased Warden's messages once transmission was reported. So slowly, slowly he acc.u.mulated data for a.n.a.lysis-painfully slow, for Warden used this method only when he had to. Sometimes a week would pa.s.s between such messages. But gradually Mike began to gather meanings for letter groups, each a.s.signed a probability. A code does not crack all at once; possible to know meanings of ninety-nine groups in a message and miss essence because one group is merely GLOPS to you.

However, user has a problem, too; if GLOPS comes through as GLOPT, he's in trouble. Any method of communication needs redundancy, or information can be lost. Was at redundancy that Mike nibbled, with perfect patience of machine.

Mike solved most of Warden's code sooner than he had projected; Warden was sending more traffic than in past and most of it one subject (which helped)--subject being security and subversion.

We had Mort in a twitter; he was yelling for help.

He reported subversive activities still going on despite two phalanges of Peace Dragoons and demanded enough troops to station guards in all key spots inside all warrens.

Authority told him this was preposterous, no more of FN's crack troops could be spared-to be permanently ruined for Earthside duties-and such requests should not be made. If he wanted more guards, he must recruit them from transportees-but such increase in administrative costs must be absorbed in Luna; he would not be allowed more overhead. He was directed to report what steps be had taken to meet new grain quotas set in our such-and-such.

Warden replied that unless extremely moderate requests for trained security personnel-not-repeat-not untrained, unreliable, and unfit convicts-were met, he could no longer a.s.sure civil order, much less increased quotas.

Reply asked sneeringly what difference it made if exconsignees chose to riot among themselves in their holes? If it worried him, had he thought of shutting off lights as was used so successfully in 1996 and 2021?

These exchanges caused us to revise our calendar, to speed some phases, slow others. Like a perfect dinner, a revolution has to be "cooked" so that everything comes out even. Stu needed time Earthside. We needed canisters and small steering rockets and a.s.sociated circuitry for "rock throwing." And steel was a problem-buying it, fabricating it, and above all moving it through meander of tunnels to new catapult site. We needed to increase Party at least into "K's"-say 40,000--with lowest echelons picked for fighting spirit rather than talents we had sought earlier. We needed weapons against landings. We needed to move Mike's radars without which he was blind. (Mike could not be moved; bits of him spread all through Luna. But he had a thousand meters of rock over that central part of him at Complex, was surrounded by steel and this armor was cradled in springs; Authority had contemplated that someday somebody might lob H-weapons at their control center.) All these needed to be done and pot must not boil too soon.

So we cut down on things that worried Warden and tried to speed up everything else. Simon Jester took a holiday. Word went out that Liberty Caps were not stylish-but save them. Warden got no more nervous-making phone calls. We quit inciting incidents with Dragoons-which did not stop them but reduced number.

Despite efforts to quiet Mort's worries a symptom showed up which disquieted us instead. No message (at least we intercepted none) reached Warden agreeing to his demand for more troops-but he started moving people out of Complex. Civil servants who lived there started looking for holes to rent in L-City. Authority started test drills and resonance exploration in a cubic adjacent to L.City which could be converted into a warren.

Could mean that Authority proposed s.h.i.+pping up unusually large draft of prisoners. Could mean that s.p.a.ce in Complex was needed for purpose other than quarters. But Mike told us: "Why kid yourselves? The Warden is going to get those troops; that s.p.a.ce will be their barracks. Any other explanation I would have heard."

I said, "But Mike, why didn't you hear if it's troops? You have that code of Warden's fairly well whipped."

"Not just 'fairly well,' I've got it whipped. But the last two s.h.i.+ps have carried Authority vips and I don't know what they talk about away from phones!"

So we tried to plan to cover possibility of having to cope with ten more phalanges, that being Mike's estimate of what cubic being cleared would hold. We could deal with that many-with Mike's help-but it would mean deaths, not bloodless coup d'etat Prof had planned.

And we increased efforts to speed up other factors.

When suddenly we found ourselves committed-

13

Her name was Marie Lyons; she was eighteen years old and born in Luna, mother having been exiled via Peace Corps in '56. No record of father. She seems to have been a harmless person. Worked as a stock-control clerk in s.h.i.+pping department, lived in Complex.

Maybe she hated Authority and enjoyed teasing Peace Dragoons. Or perhaps it started as a commercial transaction as cold-blooded as any in a crib behind a slot-machine lock. How can we know? Six Dragoons were in it. Not satisfied with raping her (if rape it was) they abused her other ways and killed her. But they did not dispose of body neatly; another civil service fem found it before was cold. She screamed. Was her last scream.

We heard about it at once; Mike called us three while Alvarez and Peace Dragoon C.O. were digging into matter in Alvarez's office. Appears that Peace Goon boss had no trouble laying hands on guilty; he and Alvarez were questioning them one at a time, and quarreling between grillings. Once we heard Alvarez say: "I told you those goons of yours had to have their own women! I warned you!"

"Stuff it," Dragoon officer answered. "I've told you time and again they won't s.h.i.+p any. The question now is how we hush this up."

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