The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress Part 25

"Guess I never will understand high-level approach."

"Possibly not. But your talents and mine complement each other. Manuel, you wish to see Luna free."

"You know I do."

"You also know that Terra can defeat us."

"Sure. No projection ever gave anything close to even money. So don't see why you set out to antagonize-"

"Please. Since they can inflict their will on us, our only chance lies in weakening their will. That was why we had to go to Terra. To be divisive. To create many opinions. The shrewdest of the great generals in China's history once said that perfection in war lay in so sapping the opponent's will that he surrenders without fighting. In that maxim lies both our ultimate purpose and our most pressing danger. Suppose, as seemed possible that first day, we had been offered an inviting compromise. A governor in place of a warden, possibly from our own number. Local autonomy. A delegate in the Grand a.s.sembly. A higher price for grain at the catapult head, plus a bonus for increased s.h.i.+pments. A disavowal of Hobart's policies combined with an expression of regret over the rape and the killings with handsome cash settlements to the victims' survivors. Would it have been accepted? Back home?"

"They did not offer that."

"The chairman was ready to offer something like it that first afternoon and at that time he had his committee in hand. He offered us an asking price close enough to permit such a d.i.c.ker. a.s.sume that we reached in substance what I outlined. Would it have been acceptable at home?"

"Uh. . . maybe."

"More than a 'maybe' by the bleak projection made just before we left home; it was the thing to be avoided at any cost-a settlement which would quiet things down, destroy our will to resist, without changing any essential in the longer-range prediction of disaster. So I switched the subject and squelched possibility by being difficult about irrelevancies politely offensive. Manuel, you and I know-and Adam knows-that there must be an end to food s.h.i.+pments; nothing less will save Luna from disaster. But can you imagine a wheat farmer fighting to end those s.h.i.+pments?"

"No. Wonder if can pick up news from home on how they're taking stoppage?"

"There won't be any. Here is how Adam has timed it, Manuel: No announcement is to be made on either planet until after we get home. We are still buying wheat. Barges are still arriving at Bombay."

"You told them s.h.i.+pments would stop at once."

"That was a threat, not a moral commitment. A few more loads won't matter and we need time. We don't have everyone on our side; we have only a minority. There is a majority who don't care either way but can be swayed-temporarily. We have another minority against us. . . especially grain farmers whose interest is never politics but the price of wheat. They are grumbling but accepting Scrip, hoping it wili be worth face value later. But the instant we announce that s.h.i.+pments have stopped they will be actively against us. Adam plans to have the majority committed to us at the time the announcement is made."

"How long? One year? Two?"

"Two days, three days, perhaps four. Carefully edited excerpts from that five-year plan, excerpts from the recordings you've made-especially that yellow-dog offer-exploitation of your arrest in Kentucky-"

"Hey! I'd rather forget that."

Prof smiled and c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Uh-" I said uncomfortably. "Okay. If will help."

"It will help more than any statistics about natural resources."

Wired-up ex-human piloting us went in as one maneuver without bothering to orbit and gave us even heavier beating; s.h.i.+p was light and lively. But change in motion is under two-and-a-half kilometers; was over in nineteen seconds and we were down at Johnson City. I took it right, just a terrible constriction in chest and a feeling as if giant were squeezing heart, then was over and I was gasping back to normal and glad to be proper weight. But did almost kill poor old Prof.

Mike told me later that pilot refused to surrender control; Mike would have brought s.h.i.+p down in a low-gee, no-break.u.m-egg, knowing Prof was aboard. But perhaps that Cyborg knew what he was doing; a low-gee landing wastes ma.s.s and Lotus-Lark grounded almost dry.

None of which we cared about, as looked as if that Garrison landing had wasted Prof. Stu saw it while I was still gasping, then we were both at him-heart stimulant, manual respiration, ma.s.sage. At last he fluttered eyelids, looked at us, smiled. "Home," he whispered.

We made him rest twenty minutes before we let him suit up to leave s.h.i.+p; had been as near dead as can be and not hear angels. Skipper was filling tanks, anxious to get rid of us and take on pa.s.sengers-that Dutchman never spoke to us whole trip; think he regretted letting money talk him into a trip that could ruin or kill him.

By then Wyoh was inside s.h.i.+p, p-suited to come meet us. Don't think Stu had ever seen her in a p-suit and certain he had never seen her as a blonde; did not recognize. I was hugging her in spite of p-suit; he was standing by, waiting to be introduced. Then strange "man" in p-suit hugged him-he was surprised.

Heard Wyoh's m.u.f.fled voice: "Oh heavens! Mannie, my helmet."

I unclamped it, lifted off. She shook curls and grinned. "Stu, aren't you glad to see me? Don't you know me?"

A grin spread over his face, slowly as dawn across maria. "Zdra'stvooeet'ye, Gospazha! I am most happy to see you."

"'Gospazha' indeed! I'm Wyoh to you, dear, always. Didn't Mannie tell you I'd gone back to blonde?"

"Yes, he did. But knowing it and seeing are not the same."

"You'll get used to it." She stopped to bend over Prof, kiss him, giggle at him, then straightened up and gave me a no-helmet welcome-home that left us both with tears despite pesky suit. Then turned again to Stu, started to kiss him.

He held back a little. She stopped. "Stu, am I going to have to put on brown makeup to welcome you?" Stu glanced at me, then kissed her. Wyoh put in as much time and thought as she had to welcoming me.

Was later I figured out his odd behavior. Stu, despite commitment, was still not a Loonie-and in meantime Wyoh had married. What's that got to do with it? Well, Earthside it makes a difference, and Stu did not know deep down in bones that a Loonie lady is own mistress. Poor chum thought I might take offense!

We got Prof into suit, ourselves same, and left, me with cannon under arm. Once underground and locked through, we unsuited-and I was flattered to see that Wyoh was wearing crushed under p-suit that red dress I bought her ages ago. She brushed it and skirt flared out.

Immigration room was empty save for about forty men lined up along wall like new transportees; were wearing p-suits and carrying helmets-Terrans going home, stranded tourists and some scientists. Their p-suits would not go, would be unloaded before lift. I looked at them and thought about Cyborg pilot. When Lark had been stripped, all but three couches had been removed; these people were going to take acceleration lying on floorplates-if skipper was not careful he was going to have mashed Terrans au blut.

Mentioned to Stu. "Forget it," he said. "Captain Leures has foam pads aboard. He won't let them be hurt; they're his life insurance."

21

My family, all thirty-odd from Grandpaw to babies, was waiting beyond next lock on level he!ow and we got cried on and s...o...b..red on and hugged and this time Stu did not hold back. Little Hazel made ceremony of kissing us; she had Liberty Caps, set one on each, then kissed us-and at that signal whole family put on Liberty Caps, and I got sudden tears. Perhaps is what patriotism feels like, choked up and so happy it hurts. Or maybe was just being with my beloveds again.

"Where's Slim?" I asked Hazel. "Wasn't he invited?"

"Couldn't come. He's junior marshal of your reception."

"Reception? This is all we want."

"You'll see."

Did. Good thing family came out to meet us; that and ride to L-City (filled a capsule) were all I saw of them for some time. Tube Station West was a howling mob, all in Liberty Caps. We three were carried on shoulders all way to Old Dome, surrounded by a stilyagi bodyguard, elbows locked to force through cheering, singing crowds. Boys were wearing red caps and white s.h.i.+rts and their girls wore white jumpers and red shorts color of caps.

At station and again when they put us down in Old Dome I got kissed by fems I have never seen before or since. Remember hoping that measures we had taken in lieu of quarantine were effective-or half of L-City would be down with colds or worse. (Apparently we were clean; was no epidemic. But I remember time-was quite small-when measles got loose and thousands died.) Worried about Prof, too; reception was too rough for a man good as dead an hour earlier. But he not only enjoyed it, he made a wonderful speech in Old Dome-one short on logic, loaded with ringing phrases. "Love" was in it, and "home" and "Luna" and "comrades and neighbors" and even "shoulder to shoulder" and all sounded good.

They had erected a platform under big news video on south face. Adam Selene greeted us from video screen and now Prof's face and voice were projected from it, much magnified, over his head-did not have to shout. But did have to pause after every sentence; crowd roars drowned out even bull voice from screen-and no doubt pauses helped, as rest. But Prof no longer seemed old, tired, ill; being back inside The Rock seemed to be tonic he needed. And me, too! Was wonderful to be right weight, feel strong, breathe pure, replenished air of own city.

No mean city! Impossible to get all of L-City inside Old Dome-but looked as if they tried. I estimated an area ten meters square, tried to count heads, got over two hundred not half through and gave up. Lunatic placed crowd at thirty thousand, seems impossible.

Prof's words reached more nearly three million; video carried scene to those who could not crowd into Old Dome, cable and relay flashed it across lonely maria to all warrens. He grabbed chance to tell of slave future Authority planned for them. Waved that "white paper." "Here it is!" he cried. "Your fetters! Your leg irons! Will you wear them?"

"NO!"

"They say you must. They say they will H-bomb . . . then survivors will surrender and put on these chains. Will you?"

"NO! NEVER!"

"Never," agreed Prof. "They threaten to send troops . . . more and more troops to rape and murder. We shall fight them."

"DA!"

"We shall fight them on the surface, we shall fight them in the tubes, we shall fight them in the corridors! If die we must, we shall die free!"

"Yes! Ja-da! Tell 'em, tell 'em!"

"And if we die, let history write: This was Luna's finest hour! Give us liberty . . . or give us death!"

Some of that sounded familiar. But his words came out fresh and new; I joined in roars. Look. . . I knew we couldn't whip Terra-I'm tech by trade and know that an H-missile doesn't care how brave you are. But was ready, too. If they wanted a fight, let's have it!

Prof let them roar, then led them in "Battle Hymn of the Republic," Simon's version. Adam appeared on screen again, took over leading it and sang with them, and we tried to slip away, off back of platform, with help of stilyagi led by Slim. But women didn't want to let us go and lads aren't at their best in trying to stop ladies; they broke through. Was twenty-two hundred before we four, Wyoh, Prof, Stu, self, were locked in room L of Raffles, where Adam-Mike joined us by video. I was starved by then, all were, so I ordered dinner and Prof insisted that we eat before reviewing plans.

Then we got down to business.

Adam started by asking me to read aloud white paper, for his benefit and for Comrade Wyoming-"But first, Comrade Manuel, if you have the recordings you made Earthside, could you transmit them by phone at high speed to my office? I'll have them transcribed for study-all I have so far are the coded summaries Comrade Stuart sent up."

I did so, knowing Mike would study them at once, phrasing was part of "Adam Selene" myth-and decided to talk to Prof about letting Stu in on facts. If Stu was to be in executive cell, pretending was too clumsy.

Feeding recordings into Mike at overspeed took five minutes, reading aloud another thirty. That done, Adam said, "Professor, the reception was more successful than I had counted on, due to your speech. I think we should push the embargo through Congress at once. I can send out a call tonight for a session at noon tomorrow. Comments?"

I said, "Look, those yammerheads will kick it around for weeks. If you must put it up to them-can't see why-do as you did with Declaration. Start late, jam it through after midnight using own people."

Adam said, "Sorry, Manuel. I'm getting caught up on events Earthside and you have catching up to do here. It's no longer the same group. Comrade Wyoming?"

"Mannie dear, it's an elected Congress now. They must pa.s.s it. Congress is what government we have."

I said slowly, "You held election and turned things over to them? Everything? Then what are we doing?" Looked at Prof, expecting explosion. My objections would not be on his grounds-but couldn't see any use in swapping one talk-talk for another. At least first group had been so loose we could pack it-this new group would be glued to seats.

Prof was undisturbed. Fitted fingertips together and looked relaxed. "Manuel, I don't think the situation is as bad as you seem to feel that it is. In each age it is necessary to adapt to the popular mythology. At one time kings were anointed by Deity, so the problem was to see to it that Deity anointed the tight candidate. In this age the myth is 'the will of the people'. . . but the problem changes only superficially. Comrade Adam and I have had long discussions about how to determine the will of the people. I venture to suggest that this solution is one we can work with."

"Well . . . okay. But why weren't we told? Stu, did you know?"

"No, Mannie. There was no reason to tell me." He shrugged. "I'm a monarchist, I wouldn't have been interested. But I go along with Prof that in this day and age elections are a necessary ritual."

Prof said, "Manuel, it wasn't necessary to tell us till we got back; you and I had other work to do. Comrade Adam and dear Comrade Wyoming handled it in our absence. . . so let's find out what they did before we judge what they've done."

"Sorry. Well, Wyoh?"

"Mannie, we didn't leave everything to chance. Adam and I decided that a Congress of three hundred would be about right. Then we spent hours going over the Party lists-plus prominent people not in the Party. At last we had a list of candidates-a list that included some from the Ad-Hoc Congress; not all were yammerheads, we included as many as we could. Then Adam phoned each one and asked him-or her-if he would serve . . . binding him to secrecy in the meantime. Some we had to replace.

"When we were ready, Adam spoke on video, announced that it was time to carry out the Party's pledge of free elections, set a date, said that everybody over sixteen could vote, and that all anyone had to do to be a candidate was to get a hundred chops on a nominating pet.i.tion and post it in Old Dome, or the public notice place for his warren. Oh, yes, thirty temporary election districts, ten Congressmen from each district-that let all but the smallest warrens be at least one district."

"So you had it lined up and Party ticket went through?"

"Oh, no, dear! There wasn't any Party ticket-officially. But we were ready with our candidates. . . and I must say my stilyagi did a smart job getting chops on nominations; our optings were posted the first day. Many other people posted; there were over two thousand candidates. But there was only ten days from announcement to election, and we knew what we wanted whereas the opposition was split up. It wasn't necessary for Adam to come out publicly and endorse candidates. It worked out-you won by seven thousand votes, dear, while your nearest rival got less than a thousand."

"I won?"

"You won, I won, Professor won, Comrade Clayton won, and just about everybody we thought should be in the Congress. It wasn't hard. Although Adam never endorsed anyone, I didn't hesitate to let our comrades know who was favored. Simon poked his finger in, too. And we do have good connections with newspapers. I wish you had been here election night, watching the results. Exciting!"

"How did you go about nose counting? Never known how election works. Write names on a piece of paper?"

"Oh, no, we used a better system . . . because, after all, some of our best people can't write. We used banks for voting places, with bank clerks identifying customers and customers identifying members of their families and neighbors who don't have bank accounts-and people voted orally and the clerks punched the votes into the banks' computers with the voter watching, and results were all tallied at once in Luna City clearinghouse. We voted everybody in less than three hours and results were printed out just minutes after voting stopped."

Suddenly a light came on in my skull and I decided to question Wyoh privately. No, not Wyoh-Mike. Get past his "Adam Selene" dignity and hammer truth out of his neuristors. Recalled a cheque ten million dollars too large and wondered how many had voted for me? Seven thousand? Seven hundred? Or just my family and friends?

But no longer worried about new Congress. Prof had not slipped them a cold deck but one that was frozen solid-then ducked Earthside while crime was committed. No use asking Wyoh; she didn't even need to know what Mike had done . . . and could do her part better if did not suspect.

Nor would anybody suspect. If was one thing all people took for granted, was conviction that if you feed honest figures into a computer, honest figures come out. Never doubted it myself till met a computer with sense of humor.

Changed mind about suggesting that Stu be let in on Mike's self-awareness. Three was two too many. Or perhaps three. "Mi-" I started to say, and changed to: "My word! Sounds efficient. How big did we win?"

Adam answered without expression. "Eighty-six percent of our candidates were successful-approximately what I had expected."

("Approximately," my false left arm! Exactly what expected, Mike old ironmongery!) "Withdraw objection to a noon session-I'll be there."

"It seems to me," said Stu, "a.s.suming that the embargo starts at once, we will need something to maintain the enthusiasm we witnessed tonight. Or there will be a long quiet period of increasing economic depression-from the embargo, I mean-and growing disillusionment. Adam, you first impressed me through your ability to make shrewd guesses as to future events. Do my misgivings make sense?"

"They do."

"Well?"

Adam looked at us in turn, and was almost impossible to believe that this was a false image and Mike was simply placing us through binaural receptors. "Comrades . . . it must be turned into open war as quickly as possible."

n.o.body said anything. One thing to talk about war, another to face up to it. At last I sighed and said, "When do we start throwing rocks?"

"We do not start," Adam answered. "They must throw the first one. How do we antagonize them into doing so? I will reserve my thoughts to the last. Comrade Manuel?"

"Uh. . . don't look at me. Way I feel, would start with a nice big rock smack on Agra-a bloke there who is a waste of s.p.a.ce. But is not what you are after."

"No, it is not," Adam answered seriously. "You would not only anger the entire Hindu nation, a people intensely opposed to destruction of life, but you would also anger and shock people throughout Earth by destroying the Taj Mahal."

"Including me," said Prof. "Don't talk dirty, Manuel."

"Look," I said, "didn't say to do it. Anyhow, could miss Taj."

"Manuel," said Prof, "as Adam pointed out, our strategy must be to antagonize them into striking the first blow, the cla.s.sic 'Pearl Harbor' maneuver of game theory, a great advantage in Weltpolitick. The question is how? Adam, I suggest that what is needed is to plant the idea that we are weak and divided and that all it takes is a show of force to bring us back into line. Stu? Your people Earthside should be useful. Suppose the Congress repudiated myself and Manuel? The effect?"

"Oh, no!" said Wyoh.

"Oh, yes, dear Wyoh. Not necessary to do it but simply to put it over news channels to Earth. Perhaps still better to put it out over a clandestine beam attributed to the Terran scientists still with us while our official channels display the cla.s.sic stigmata of tight censors.h.i.+p. Adam?"