The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"You are right that the Authority must go. It is ridiculous-pestilential, not to be borne-that we should be ruled by an irresponsible dictator in all our essential economy! It strikes at the most basic human right, the right to bargain in a free marketplace. But I respectfully suggest that you erred in saying that we should sell wheat to Terra-or rice, or any food-at any price. We must not export food!"
That wheat farmer broke in. "What am I going to do with all that wheat?"
"Please! It would be right to s.h.i.+p wheat to Terra. . . if tonne for tonne they returned it. As water. As nitrates. As phosphates. Tonne for tonne. Otherwise no price is high enough."
Wyoming said "Just a moment" to farmer, then to Prof: "They can't and you know it. It's cheap to s.h.i.+p downhill, expensive to s.h.i.+p uphill. But we don't need water and plant chemicals, what we need is not so ma.s.sy. Instruments. Drugs. Processes. Some machinery. Control tapes. I've given this much study, sir. If we can get fair prices in a free market-"
"Please, miss! May I continue?"
"Go ahead. I want to rebut."
"Fred Hauser told us that ice is harder to find. Too true-bad news now and disastrous for our grandchildren. Luna City should use the same water today we used twenty years ago. . . plus enough ice mining for population increase. But we use water once-one full cycle, three different ways. Then we s.h.i.+p it to India. As wheat. Even though wheat is vacuum-processed, it contains precious water. Why s.h.i.+p water to India? They have the whole Indian Ocean! And the remaining ma.s.s of that grain is even more disastrously expensive, plant foods still harder to come by, even though we extract them from rock. Comrades, harken to me! Every load you s.h.i.+p to Terra condemns your grandchildren to slow death. The miracle of photosynthesis, the plant-and-animal cycle, is a closed cycle. You have opened it-and your lifeblood runs downhill to Terra. You don't need higher prices, one cannot eat money! What you need, what we all need, is an end to this loss. Embargo, utter and absolute. Luna must be self-sufficient!"
A dozen people shouted to be heard and more were talking, while chairman banged gavel. So I missed interruption until woman screamed, then I looked around.
All doors were now open and I saw three armed men in one nearest-men in yellow uniform of Warden's bodyguard. At main door in back one was using a bull voice; drowned out crowd noise and sound system. "ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT!" it boomed. "STAY WHERE YOU ARE. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST. DON'T MOVE, KEEP QUIET. FILE OUT ONE AT A TIME, HANDS EMPTY AND STRETCHED OUT IN FRONT OF YOU."
Shorty picked up man next to him and threw him at guards nearest; two went down, third fired. Somebody shrieked. Skinny little girl, redhead, eleven or twelve, launched self at third guard's knees and hit rolled up in ball; down he went. Shorty swung hand behind him, pus.h.i.+ng Wyoming Knott into shelter of his big frame, shouted over shoulder, "Take care of Wyoh, Man-stick close!" as he moved toward door, parting crowd right and left like children.
More screams and I whiffed something-stink I had smelled day I lost arm and knew with horror were not stun guns but laser beams. Shorty reached door and grabbed a guard with each big hand. Little redhead was out of sight; guard she had bowled over was on hands and knees. I swung left arm at his face and felt jar in shoulder as his jaw broke. Must have hesitated for Shorty pushed me and yelled, "Move, Man! Get her out of here!"
I grabbed Wyoming's waist with right arm, swung her over guard I had quieted and through door-with trouble; she didn't seem to want to be rescued. She slowed again beyond door; I shoved her hard in b.u.t.tocks, forcing her to run rather than fall. I glanced back.
Shorty had other two guards each by neck; he grinned as he cracked skulls together. They popped like eggs and he yelled at me: "Git!"
I left, chasing Wyoming. Shorty needed no help, nor ever would again-nor could I waste his last effort. For I did see that, while killing those guards, he was standing on one leg. Other was gone at hip.
3
Wyoh was halfway up ramp to level six before I caught up. She didn't slow and I had to grab door handle to get into pressure lock with her. There I stopped her, pulled red cap off her curls and stuck it in my pouch. "That's better." Mine was missing.
She looked startled. But answered, "Da. It is."
"Before we open door," I said, "are you running anywhere particular? And do I stay and hold them off? Or go with?"
"I don't know. We'd better wait for Shorty."
"Shorty's dead."
Eyes widened, she said nothing. I went on, "Were you staying with him? Or somebody?"
"I was booked for a hotel-Gostaneetsa Ukraina. I don't know where it is. I got here too late to buy in."
"Mmm-That's one place you won't go. Wyoming, I don't know what's going on. First time in months I've seen any Warden's bodyguard in L-City.. . and never seen one not escorting vip. Uh, could take you home with me-but they may be looking for me, too. Anywise, ought to get out of public corridors."
Came pounding on door from level-six side and a little face peered up through gla.s.s bull's-eye. "Can't stay here," I added, opening door. Was a little girl no higher than my waist. She looked up scornfully and said, "Kiss her somewhere else. You're blocking traffic." Squeezed between us as I opened second door for her.
"Let's take her advice," I said, "and suggest you take my arm and try to look like I was man you want to be with. We stroll. Slow."
So we did. Was side corridor with little traffic other than children always underfoot. If Wart's bodyguards tried to track us, Earthside cop style, a dozen or ninety kids could tell which way tall blonde went-if any Loonie child would give stooge of Warden so much as time of day.
A boy almost old enough to appreciate Wyoming stopped in front of us and gave her a happy whistle. She smiled and waved him aside. "There's our trouble," I said in her ear. "You stand out like Terra at full. Ought to duck into a hotel. One off next side corridor-nothing much, bundling booths mostly. But close."
"I'm in no mood to bundle."
"Wyoh, please! Wasn't asking. Could take separate rooms."
"Sorry. Could you find me a W.C.? And is there a chemist's shop near?"
"Trouble?"
"Not that sort. A W.C. to get me out of sight-for I am conspicuous-and a chemist's shop for cosmetics. Body makeup. And for my hair, too."
First was easy, one at hand. When she was locked in, I found a chemist's shop, asked how much body makeup to cover a girl so tall-marked a point under my chin-and ma.s.sing forty-eight? I bought that amount in sepia, went to another shop and bought same amount-winning roll at first shop, losing at second-came out even. Then I bought black hair tint at third shop-and a red dress.
Wyoming was wearing black shorts and pullover-practical for travel and effective on a blonde. But I'd been married all my life and had some notion of what women wear and had never seen a woman with dark sepia skin, shade of makeup, wear black by choice. Furthermore, skirts were worn in Luna City then by dressy women. This s.h.i.+ft was a skirt with bib and price convinced me it must be dressy. Had to guess at size but material had some stretch.
Ran into three people who knew me but was no unusual comment. n.o.body seemed excited, trade going on as usual; hard to believe that a riot had taken place minutes ago on level below and a few hundred meters north. I set it aside for later thought-excitement was not what I wanted.
I took stuff to Wye, buzzing door and pa.s.sing in it; then stashed self in a taproom for half an hour and half a liter and watched video. Still no excitement, no "we interrupt for special bulletin." I went back, buzzed, and waited.
Wyoming came out-and I didn't recognize her. Then did and stopped to give full applause. Just had to-whistles and finger snaps and moans and a scan like mapping radar.
Wyoh was now darker than I am, and pigment had gone on beautifully. Must have been carrying items in pouch as eyes were dark now, with lashes to match, and mouth was dark red and bigger. She had used black hair tint, then fizzed hair up with grease as if to take kinks out, and her tight curls had defeated it enough to make convincingly imperfect. She didn't look Afro-but not European, either. Seemed some mixed breed, and thereby more a Loonie.
Red dress was too small. Clung like sprayed enamel and flared out at mid-thigh with permanent static charge. She had taken shoulder strap off her pouch and had it under arm. Shoes she had discarded or pouched; bare feet made her shorter.
She looked good. Better yet, she looked not at all like agitatrix who had harangued crowd.
She waited, big smile on face and body undulating, while I applauded. Before I was done, two little boys flanked me and added shrill endors.e.m.e.nts, along with clog steps. So I tipped them and told them to be missing; Wyoming flowed to me and took my arm. "Is it okay? Will I pa.s.s?"
"Wyoh, you look like slot-machine sheila waiting for action."
"Why, you drecklich choom! Do I look like slot-machine prices? Tourist!"
"Don't jump salty, beautiful. Name a gift. Then speak my name. If it's bread-and-honey, I own a hive."
"Uh-" She fisted me solidly in ribs, grinned. "I was flying, cobber. If I ever bundle with you-not likely-we won't speak to the bee. Let's find that hotel."
So we did and I bought a key. Wyoming put on a show but needn't have bothered. Night clerk never looked up from his knitting, didn't offer to roll. Once inside, Wyoming threw bolts. "It's nice!"
Should have been, at thirty-two Hong Kong dollars. I think she expected a booth but I would not put her in such, even to hide. Was comfortable lounge with own bath and no water limit. And phone and delivery lift, which I needed.
She started to open pouch. "I saw what you paid. Let's settle it, so that-"
I reached over, closed her pouch. "Was to be no mention of bees."
"What? Oh, merde, that was about bundling. You got this doss for me and it's only right that-"
"Switch off."
"Uh. . . half? No grievin' with Steven."
"Nyet. Wyoh, you're a long way from home. What money you have, hang on to."
"Manuel O'Kelly, if you don't let me pay my share, I'll walk out of here!"
I bowed. "Dosvedanyuh, Gospazha, ee sp'coynoynochi. I hope we shall meet again." I moved to unbolt door.
She glared, then closed pouch savagely. "I'll stay. M'goy!"
"You're welcome."
"I mean it, I really do thank you, Just the same-Well, I'm not used to accepting favors. I'm a Free Woman."
"Congratulations. I think."
"Don't you be salty, either. You're a firm man and I respect that-I'm glad you're on our side."
"Not sure I am."
"What?"
"Cool it. Am not on Warden's side. Nor will I talk . . . wouldn't want Shorty, Bog rest his generous soul, to haunt me. But your program isn't practical."
"But, Mannie, you don't understand! If all of us-"
"Hold it, Wye; this no time for politics. I'm tired and hungry. When did you eat last?"
"Oh, goodness!" Suddenly she looked small, young, tired. "I don't know. On the bus, I guess. Helmet rations."
"What would you say to a Kansas City cut, rare, with baked potato, Tycho sauce, green salad, coffee . . and a drink first?"
"Heavenly!"
"I think so too, but we'll be lucky, this hour in this hole, to get algae soup and burgers. What do you drink?"
"Anything. Ethanol."
"Okay." I went to lift, punched for service. "Menu, please." It displayed and I settled for prime rib plus rest, and two orders of apfelstrudel with whipped cream. I added a half liter of table vodka and ice and starred that part.
"Is there time for me to take a bath? Would you mind?"
"Go ahead, Wye. You'll smell better."
"Louse. Twelve hours in a p-suit and you'd stink, too-the bus was dreadful. I'll hurry."
"Half a sec, Wye. Does that stuff wash off? You may need it when you leave. . . whenever you do, wherever you go."
"Yes, it does. But you bought three times as much as I used. I'm sorry, Mannie; I plan to carry makeup on political trips-things can happen. Like tonight, though tonight was worst. But I ran short of seconds and missed a capsule and almost missed the bus."
"So go scrub."
"Yes, sir, Captain. Uh, I don't need help to scrub my back but I'll leave the door up so we can talk. Just for company, no invitation implied."
"Suit yourself. I've seen a woman."
"What a thrill that must have been for her." She grinned and fisted me another in ribs-hard-went in and started tub. "Mannie, would you like to bathe in it first? Secondhand water is good enough for this makeup and that stink you complained about."
"Unmetered water, dear. Run it deep."
"Oh, what luxury! At home I use the same bath water three days running." She whistled softly and happily. "Are you wealthy, Mannie?"
"Not wealthy, not weeping."
Lift jingled; I answered, fixed basic martinis, vodka over ice, handed hers in, got out and sat down, out of sight-nor had I seen sights; she was shoulder deep in happy suds. "Pawlnoi Zheezni!" I called.
"A full life to you, too, Mannie. Just the medicine I needed." After pause for medicine she went on, "Mannie, you're married. Ja?"
"Da. It shows?"
"Quite. You're nice to a woman but not eager and quite independent. So you're married and long married. Children?"
"Seventeen divided by four."
"Clan marriage?"
"Line. Opted at fourteen and I'm fifth of nine. So seventeen kids is nominal. Big family."
"It must be nice. I've never seen much of line families, not many in Hong Kong. Plenty of clans and groups and lots of polyandries but the line way never took hold."
"Is nice. Our marriage nearly a hundred years old. Dates back to Johnson City and first transportees-twenty-one links, nine alive today, never a divorce. Oh, it's a madhouse when our descendants and inlaws and kinfolk get together for birthday or wedding-more kids than seventeen, of course; we don't count 'em after they marry or I'd have 'children' old enough to be my grandfather. Happy way to live, never much pressure. Take me. n.o.body woofs if I stay away a week and don't phone. Welcome when I show up. Line marriages rarely have divorces. How could I do better?"
"I don't think you could. Is it an alternation? And what's the s.p.a.cing?"
"s.p.a.cing has no rule, just what suits us. Been alternation up to latest link, last year. We married a girl when alternation called for boy. But was special."
"Special how?"
"My youngest wife is a granddaughter of eldest husband and wife. At least she's granddaughter of Mum-senior is 'Mum' or sometimes Mimi to her husbands-and she may be of Grandpaw-but not related to other spouses. So no reason not to marry back in, not even consanguinuity okay in other types of marriage. None, nit, zero. And Ludmilla grew up in our family because her mother had her solo, then moved to Novylen and left her with us.
"Milla didn't want to talk about marrying out when old enough for us to think about it. She cried and asked us please to make an exception. So we did. Grandpaw doesn't figure in genetic angle-these days his interest in women is more gallant than practical. As senior husband he spent our wedding night with her-but consummation was only formal. Number-two husband, Greg, took care of it later and everybody pretended. And everybody happy. Ludmilla is a sweet little thing, just fifteen and pregnant first time."