The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress Part 19

"Can't be ready then."

"Mike says we must be."

We weren't but s.h.i.+p never arrived. Those scientists outsmarted me and Loonies I had told to watch them. Was a rig at focal point of biggest reflector and Loonie a.s.sistants believed doubletalk about astronomical purpose-a new wrinkle in radiotelescopes.

I suppose it was. Was ultramicrowave and stuff was bounced at reflector by a wave guide and thus left scope lined up nicely by mirror. Remarkably like early radar. And metal latticework and foil heat s.h.i.+eld of barrel stopped stray radiation, thus "ears" I had staked out heard nothing.

They put message across, their version and in detail. First we heard was demand from Authority to Warden to deny this hoax, find hoaxer, put stop to it.

So instead we gave them a Declaration of Independence.

"In Congress a.s.sembled, July Fourth, Twenty-Seventy-Six-"

Was beautiful.

15

Signing of Declaration of Independence went as Prof said it would. He sprang it on them at end of long day, announced a special session after dinner at which Adam Selene would speak. Adam read aloud, discussing each sentence, then read it without stopping, making music of sonorous phrases. People wept. Wyoh, seated by me, was one, and I felt like it even though had read it earlier.

Then Adam looked at them and said, "The future is waiting. Mark well what you do," and turned meeting over to Prof rather than usual chairman.

Was twenty-two hundred and fight began. Sure, they were in favor of it; news all day had been jammed with what bad boys we were, how we were to be punished, taught a lesson, so forth. Not necessary to spice it up; stuff up from Earthside was nasty-Mike merely left out on-other-hand opinions. If ever was a day when Luna felt unified it was probably second of July 2076.

So they were going to pa.s.s it; Prof knew that before he offered it.

But not as written-"Honorable Chairman, in second paragraph, that word 'unalienable,' is no such word; should be 'inalienable'-and anyhow wouldn't it be more dignified to say 'sacred rights' rather than 'inalienable rights'? I'd like to hear discussion on this."

That choom was almost sensible, merely a literary critic, which is harmless, like dead yeast left in beer. But-Well, take that woman who hated everything. She was there with list; read it aloud and moved to have it incorporated into Declaration "so that the peoples of Terra will know that we are civilized and fit to take our places in the councils of mankind!"

Prof not only let her get away with it; he encouraged her, letting her talk when other people wanted to-then blandly put her proposal to a vote when hadn't even been seconded. (Congress operated by rules they had wrangled over for days. Prof was familiar with rules but followed them only as suited him.) She was voted down in a shout, and left.

Then somebody stood up and said of course that long list didn't belong in Declaration-but shouldn't we have general principles? Maybe a statement that Luna Free State guaranteed freedom, equality, and security to all? Nothing elaborate, just those fundamental principles that everybody knew was proper purpose of goiverament.

True enough and let's pa.s.s it-but must read "Freedom, equality, peace, and security"-right, Comrade? They wrangled over whether "freedom" included "free air," or was that part of "security"? Why not be on safe side and list "free air" by name? Move to amend to make it "free air and water"-because you didn't have "freedom" or "security" unless you had both air and water.

Air, water, and food.

Air, water, food, and cubic.

Air, water, food, cubic, and heat.

No, make "heat" read "power" and you had it all covered. Everything.

Cobber, have you lost your mind? That's far from everything and what you've left out is an affront to all womankind-Step outside and say that! Let me finish. We've got to tell them right from deal that we will permit no more s.h.i.+ps to land unless they carry at least as many women as men. At least, I said-and I for one won't chop it unless it sets immigration issue straight.

Prof never lost dimples.

Began to see why Prof had slept all day and was not wearing weights. Me, I was tired, having spent all day in p-suit out beyond catapult head cutting in last of relocated ballistic radars. And everybody was tired; by midnight crowd began to thin, convinced that nothing would be accomplished that night and bored by any yammer not their own.

Was later than midnight when someone asked why this Declaration was dated fourth when today was second? Prof said mildly that it was July third now-and it seemed unlikely that our Declaration could be announced earlier than fourth and that July fourth carried historical symbolism that might help.

Several people walked out at announcement that probably nothing would be settled until fourth of July. But I began to notice something: Hall was filling as fast as was emptying. Finn Nielsen slid into a seat that had just been vacated. Comrade Clayton from Hong Kong showed up, pressed my shoulder, smiled at Wyoh, found a seat. My youngest lieutenants. Slim and Hazel, I spotted down front-and was thinking I must alibi Hazel by telling Mum I had kept her out on Parts business-when was amused to see Mum herself next to them. And Sidris. And Greg, who was supposed to be at new catapult.

Looked around and picked out a dozen more-night editor of Lunaya Pravda, General Manager of LuNoHoCo, others, and each one a working comrade, Began to see that Prof had stacked deck. That Congress never had a fixed members.h.i.+p; these d.i.n.k.u.m comrades had as much right to show up as those who had been talking a month. Now they sat-and voted down amendments.

About three hundred, when I was wondering how much more I could take, someone brought a note to Prof. He read it, banged gavel and said, "Adam Selene begs your indulgence. Do I hear unanimous consent?"

So screen back of rostrum lighted up again and Adam told them that he had been following debate and was warmed by many thoughtful and constructive criticisms. But could he made a suggestion? Why not admit that any piece of writing was imperfect? If thin declaration was in general what they wanted, why not postpone perfection for another day and pa.s.s this as it stands? "Honorable Chairman, I so move."

They pa.s.sed it with a yell. Prof said, "Do I hear objection?" and waited with gavel raised. A man who had been talking when Adam had asked to be heard said, "Well, . . I still say that's a dangling participle, but okay, leave it in."

Prof hanged gavel. "So ordered!"

Then we filed up and put our chops on a big scroll that had been "sent over from Adam's office"---and I noticed Adam's chop on it. I signed right under Hazel-child now could write although was still short on book learning. Her chop was shaky but she wrote it large and proud. Comrade Clayton signed his Party name, real name in letters, and j.a.panese chop, three little pictures one above other. Two comrades chopped with X's and had them witnessed. All Party leaders were there that night (morning), all chopped it, and not more than a dozen yammerers stuck. But those who did, put their chops down for history to read. And thereby committed "their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honors."

While queue was moving slowly past and people were talking, Prof banged for attention. "I ask for volunteers for a dangerous mission. This Declaration will go on the news channels-but must be presented in person to the Federated Nations, on Terra."

That put stop to noise. Prof was looking at me. I swallowed and said, "I volunteer." Wyoh echoed, "So do I!"-and little Hazel Meade said, "Me, too!"

In moments were a dozen, from Finn Nielsen to Gospodin Dangling-Participle (turned out to be good cobber aside from his fetish). Prof took names, murmured something about getting in touch as transportation became available.

I got Prof aside and said, "Look, Prof, you too tired to track? You know s.h.i.+p for seventh was canceled; now they're talking about slapping embargo on us. Next s.h.i.+p they lift for Luna will be a wars.h.i.+p. How you planning to travel? As prisoner?"

"Oh, we won't use their s.h.i.+ps."

"So? Going to build one? Any idea how long that takes? If could build one at all. Which I doubt."

"Manuel, Mike says it's necessary-and has it all worked out."

I did know Mike said was necessary; he had rerun problem soon as we learned that bright laddies at Richardson had snuck one home-he now gave us only one chance in fifty-three. . . with imperative need for Prof to go Earthside. But I'm not one to worry about impossibilities; I had spent day working to make that one chance in fifty-three turn up.

"Mike will provide the s.h.i.+p," Prof went on. "He has completed its design and it is being worked on."

"He has? It is? Since when is Mike engineer?"

"Isn't he?" asked Prof.

I started to answer, shut up. Mike had no degrees. Simply knew more engineering than any man alive. Or about Shakespeare's plays, or riddles, or history, name it. "Tell me more."

"Manuel, we'll go to Terra as a load of grain."

"What? Who's 'we'?"

"You and myself. The other volunteers are merely decorative."

I said, "Look, Prof. I've stuck. Worked hard when whole thing seemed silly. Worn these weights-got 'em on now-on chance I might have to go to that dreadful place. But contracted to go in a s.h.i.+p, with at least a Cyborg pilot to help me get down safely. Did not agree to go as meteorite."

He said, "Very well, Manuel. I believe in free choice, always. Your alternate will go."

"My-Who?"

"Comrade Wyoming. So far as I know she is the only other person in training for the trip . . . other than a few Terrans."

So I went. But talked to Mike first. He said patiently. "Man my first friend, there isn't a thing to worry about. You are scheduled load KM187 series '76 and you'll arrive in Bombay with no trouble. But to be sure-to rea.s.sure you-I selected that barge because it will be taken out of parking orbit and landed when India is faced toward me, and I've added an override so that I can take you away from ground control if I don't like the way they handle you. Trust me, Man, it has all been thought through. Even the decision to continue s.h.i.+pments when security was broken was part of this plan."

"Might have told me."

"There was no need to worry you. Professor had to know and I've kept in touch with him. But you are going simply to take care of him and back him up-do his job if he dies, a factor on which I can give you no rea.s.surance."

I sighed. "Okay. But, Mike, surely you don't think you can pilot a barge into a soft landing at this distance? Speed of light alone would trip you."

"Man, don't you think I understand ballistics? For the orbital position then, from query through reply and then to command-received is under four seconds. . . and you can rely on me not to waste microseconds. Your maximum parking-orbit travel in four seconds is only thirty-two kilometers, diminis.h.i.+ng asymptotically to zero at landing. My reflex time will be effectively less than that of a pilot in a manual landing because I don't waste time grasping a situation and deciding on correct action. So my maximum is four seconds. But my effective reflex time is much less, as I project and predict constantly, see ahead, program it out-in effect, I'll stay four seconds ahead of you in your trajectory and respond instantly."

"That steel can doesn't even have an altimeter!"

"It does now. Man, please believe me; I've thought of everything. The only reason I've ordered this extra equipment is to rea.s.sure you. Poona ground control hasn't made a bobble in the last five thousand loads. For a computer it's fairly bright."

"Okay. Uh, Mike, how hard do they splash those bleeding barges? What gee?"

"Not high, Man. Ten gravities at injection, then that programs down to a steady, soft four gees . . . then you'll be nudged again between six and five gees just before splash. The splash itself is gentle, equal to a fall of fifty meters and you enter ogive first with no sudden shock, less than three gees. Then you surface and splash again, lightly, and simply float at one gee. Man, those barge sh.e.l.ls are built as lightly as possible for economy's sake. We can't afford to toss them around or they would split their seams."

"How sweet. Mike, what would 'six to five gees' do to you? Split your seams?"

"I conjecture that I was subjected to about six gravities when they s.h.i.+pped me up here. Six gravities in my present condition would shear many of my essential connections. However, I'm more interested in the extremely high, transient accelerations I am going to experience from shock waves when Terra starts bombing us. Data are insufficient for prediction but I may lose control of my outlying functions, Man. This could be a major factor in any tactical situation."

"Mike, you really think they are going to bomb us?"

"Count on it, Man. That is why this trip is so important."

Left it at that and went out to see this coffin. Should have stayed home.

Ever looked at one of those silly barges? Just a steel cylinder with retro and guidance rockets and radar transponder. Resembles a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p way a pair of pliers resembles my number-three arm. They had this one cut open and were outfitting our "living quarters."

No galley. No W.C. No nothing. Why bother? We were going to be in it only fifty hours. Start empty so that you won't need a honey sack in your suit. Dispense with lounge and bar; you'll never be out of your suit, you'll be drugged and not caring.

At least Prof would be drugged almost whole time; I had to be alert at landing to try to get us out of this death trap if something went wrong and n.o.body came along with a tin opener. They were building a shaped cradle in which backs of our p-suits would fit; we would be strapped into these holes. And stay there, clear to Terra. They seemed more concerned about making total ma.s.s equal to displaced wheat and same center of gravity and all moment arms adding up correctly than they did about our comfort; engineer in charge told me that even padding to be added inside our p-suits was figured in.

Was glad to learn we were going to have padding; those holes did not look soft.

Returned home in thoughtful condition.

Wyoh was not at dinner, unusual; Greg was, more unusual. n.o.body said anything about my being scheduled to imitate a falling rock next day although all knew. But did not realize anything special was on until all next generation left table without being told. Then knew why Greg had not gone back to Mare Undarum site after Congress adjourned that morning; somebody had asked for a Family talk-talk.

Mum looked around and said, "We're all here. Ali, shut that door; that's a dear. Grandpaw, will you start us?"

Our senior husband stopped nodding over coffee and firmed up. He looked down table and said strongly, "I see that we are all here. I see that children have been put to bed. I see that there is no stranger, no guest. I say that we are met in accordance with customs created by Black Jack Davis our First Husband and Tillie our First Wife. If there is any matter that concerns safety and happiness of our marriage, haul it out in the light now. Don't let it fester. This is our custom."

Grandpaw turned to Mum and said softly, "Take it, Mimi," and slumped back into gentle apathy. But for a minute he had been strong, handsome, virile, dynamic man of days of my opting. . . and I thought with sudden tears how lucky I had been!

Then didn't know whether I felt lucky or not. Only excuse I could see for a Family talk-talk was fact that I was due to be s.h.i.+pped Earthside next day, labeled as grain. Could Mum be thinking of trying to set Family against it? n.o.body had to abide by results of a talk-talk. But one always did. That was strength of our marriage: When came down to issues, we stood together.

Mimi was saying, "Does anyone have anything that needs to be discussed? Speak up, dears."

Greg said, "I have."

"We'll listen to Greg."

Greg is a good speaker. Can stand up in front of a congregation and speak with confidence about matters I don't feel confident about even when alone. But that night he seemed anything but sure of himself. "Well, uh, we've always tried to keep this marriage in balance, some old, some young, a regular alternation, well s.p.a.ced, just as it was handed down to us. But we've varied sometimes-for good reason." He looked at Ludmilla. "And adjusted it later." He looked again at far end of table, at Frank and Ali, on each side of Ludmilla.

"Over years, as you can see from records, average age of husbands has been about forty, wives about thirty-five-and that age spread was just what our marriage started with, nearly a hundred years gone by, for Tillie was fifteen when she opted Black Jack and he had just turned twenty. Right now I find that average age of husbands is almost exactly forty, while average-"

Mum said firmly, "Never mind arithmetic, Greg dear. Simply state it."

I was trying to think who Greg could possibly mean. True, I had been much away during past year, and if did get home, was often after everybody was asleep. But he was clearly talking about marriage and n.o.body ever proposes another wedding in our marriage without first giving everybody a long careful chance to look prospect over. You just didn't do it any other way!

So I'm stupid. Greg stuttered and said, "I propose Wyoming Knott!"

I said I was stupid. I understand machinery and machinery understands me. But didn't claim to know anything about people. When I get to be senior husband, if live that long, am going to do exactly what Grandpaw does with Mum: Let Sidris run it. Just same-Well, look, Wyoh joined Greg's church. I like Greg, love Greg. And admire him. But you could never feed theology of his church through a computer and get anything but null. Wyoh surely knew this, since she encountered it in adult years-truthfully, I had suspected that Wyoh's conversion was proof that she would do anything for our Cause.

But Wyoh had recruited Greg even earlier. And had made most of trips out to new site, easier for her to get away than me or Prof. Oh, well. Was taken by surprise. Should not have been.

Mimi said, "Greg, do you have reason to think that Wyoming would accept an opting from us?"

"Yes."

"Very well. We all know Wyoming; I'm sure we've formed our opinions of her. I see no reason to discuss it. . . unless someone has something to say? Speak up."

Was no surprise to Mum. But wouldn't be. Nor to anyone else, either, since Mum never let a talk-talk take place until she was sure of outcome.

But wondered why Mum was sure of my opinion, so certain that she had not felt me out ahead of time? And sat there in a soggy quandary, knowing I should speak up, knowing I knew something terribly pertinent which n.o.body else knew or matter would never have gone this far. Something that didn't matter to me but would matter to Mum and all our women.

Sat there, miserable coward, and said nothing, Mum said, "Very well. Let's call the roll. Ludmilla?"

"Me? Why, I love Wyoh, everybody knows that. Sure!"

"Lenore dear?"

"Well, I may try to talk her into going back to being a brownie again; I think we set each other off. But that's her only fault, being blonder than I am. Da!"

"Sidris?"