Farmer in the Sky by Robert A. Heinlein
Farmer in the Sky by Robert A. Heinlein
CONTENTS
1
Earth
2
The Green-Eyed Monster
3
Space Ship Bifrost
4
Captain DeLongPre
5
Captain Harkness
6
E = MC²
7
Scouting in Space
8
Trouble
9
The Moons of Jupiter
10
The Promised Land
11
“Share Croppers”
12
Bees and Zeroes
13
Johnny Appleseed
14
Land of My Own
15
Why Did We Come?
16
Line Up
17
Disaster
18
Pioneer Party
19
The Other People
20
Home
1. Earth
Our troop had been up in the High Sierras that day and we were late getting back. We had taken off from the camp field on time but Traffic Control swung us ‘way east to avoid some weather. I didn’t like it; Dad usually won’t eat if I’m not home.
Besides that, I had had a new boy shoved off on me as co-pilot; my usual co-pilot and assistant patrol leader was sick, so our Scoutmaster, Mr. Kinski, gave me this twerp. Mr. Kinski rode in the other copter with the Cougar Patrol.
“Why don’t you put on some speed?” the twerp wanted to know.
“Ever hear of traffic regulations?” I asked him.
The copter was on slave-automatic, controlled from the ground, and was cruising slowly, down a freight lane they had stuck us in.
The twerp laughed. “You can always have an emergency. Here—I’ll show you.” He switched on the mike. “Dog Fox Eight Three, calling traffic—”
I switched it off, then switched on again when Traffic answered and told them that we had called by mistake. The twerp looked disgusted. “Mother’s good little boy!” he said in sticky sweet tones.
That was just the wrong thing to say to me. “Go aft,” I told him, “and tell Slats Keifer to come up here.”
“Why? He’s not a pilot.”
“Neither are you, for my money. But he weighs what you do and I want to keep the crate trimmed.”
He settled back in his seat. “Old Man Kinski assigned me as co-pilot; here I stay.”
I counted to ten and let it ride. The pilot compartment of a ship in the air is no place for a fight. We had nothing more to say to each other until I put her down on North Diego Platform and cut the tip jets.
I was last one out, of course. Mr, Kinski was waiting there for us but I didn’t see him; all I saw was the twerp. I grabbed him by the shoulder. “Want to repeat that crack now?” I asked him.
Mr. Kinski popped up out of nowhere, stepped between us and said, “Bill! Bill! What’s the meaning of this?”
“I—” I started to say that I was going to slap the twerp loose from his teeth, but I thought better of it
Mr. Kinski turned to the twerp. “What happened, Jones?”
“I didn’t do anything! Ask anybody.”
I was about to say that he could tell that to the Pilots’ Board. Insubordination in the air is a serious matter. But that “Ask anybody” stopped me. Nobody else had seen or heard anything.
Mr. Kinski looked at each of us, then said, “Muster your patrol and dismiss them, Bill.” So I did and went on home.
All in all, I was tired and jumpy by the time I got home. I had listened to the news on the way home; it wasn’t good. The ration had been cut another ten calories—which made me still hungrier and reminded me that I hadn’t been home to get Dad’s supper. The newscaster went on to say that the Spaceship Mayflower had finally been commissioned and that the rolls were now opened for emigrants. Pretty lucky for them, I thought. No short rations. No twerps like Jones.
And a brand new planet.
George—my father, that is—was sitting in the apartment, looking over some papers. “Howdy, George,” I said to him, “eaten yet?”
“Hello, Bill. No.”
“I’ll have supper ready right away.” I went into the pantry and could see that he hadn’t eaten lunch, either. I decided to fix him a plus meal.
I grabbed two Syntho-Steaks out of the freezer and slapped them in quickthaw, added a big Idaho baked potato for Dad and a smaller one for me, then dug out a package of salad and let it warm naturally.