Farnham’s Freehold By Robert A. Heinlein
Farnham’s Freehold By Robert A. Heinlein
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Farnham’s Freehold
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 1
“It’s not a hearing aid,” Hubert Farnham explained. “It’s a radio, tuned to the emergency frequency.”
Barbara Wells stopped with a bite halfway to her mouth. “Mr. Farnham! You think they are going to attack?”
Her host shrugged. “The Kremlin doesn’t let me in on its secrets.”
His son said, “Dad, quit scaring the ladies. Mrs. Wells-”
“Call me ‘Barbara.’ I’m going to ask the court to let me drop the ‘Mrs.’
“You don’t need permission.”
“Watch it, Barb,” his sister Karen said. “Free advice is expensive.”
“Shaddap. Barbara, with all respect to my worthy father, he sees spooks. There is not going to be a war.”
“I hope you’re right,” Barbara Wells said soberly. “Why do you think so?”
“Because the communists are realists. They never risk a war that would hurt them, even if they could win. So they won’t risk one they can’t win.”
“Then I wish,” his mother said, “that they would stop having these dreadful crises. Cuba. All that fuss about Berlin-as if anybody cared! And now this. It makes a person nervous. Joseph!”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You fetch me coffee. And brandy. Café royale.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The houseboy, a young Negro, removed her plate, barely touched.
Young Farnham said, “Dad, it’s not these phony crises that has Mother upset; it’s the panicky way you behave. You must stop it.”
“No.”
“You must! Mother didn’t eat her dinner . . . and all because of that silly button in your ear. You can’t-”
“Drop it, Duke.”
“Sir?”
“When you moved into your own apartment, we agreed to live as friends. As my friend your opinions are welcome. But that does not make you free to interfere between your mother-my wife-and myself.”
His wife said, “Now, Hubert.”
“Sorry, Grace.”
“You’re too harsh on the boy. It does make me nervous.”
“Duke is not a boy. And I’ve done nothing to make you nervous. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too, Mother. But if Dad regards it as interference, well-” Duke forced a grin. “I’ll have to find a wife of my own to annoy. Barbara, will you marry me?”
“No, Duke.”
“I told you she was smart, Duke,” his sister volunteered.
“Karen, pipe down. Why not, Barbara? I’m young, I’m healthy. Why, someday I might even have clients. In the meantime you can support us.”
“No, Duke. I agree with your father.”
“Huh?”
“I should say that my father agrees with your father. I don’t know that my pops is carrying around a radio tonight but I’m certain that he is listening to one. Duke, every car in our family has a survival kit.”
“No fooling!”
“My car out in your father’s driveway, the one Karen and I drove down from school, has a kit in its trunk that Pops picked before I re-entered college. Pops takes it seriously, so I do.”
Duke Farnham opened his mouth, closed it. His father asked, “Barbara, what did your father select?”
“Oh, lots of things. Ten gallons of water. Food. A jeep can of gasoline. Medicines. A sleeping bag. A gun-”
“Can you use a gun?”
“Pops made me learn. A shovel. An ax. Clothes. Oh, yes, a radio. But the important thing was ‘Where?’-so he kept saying. If I were at school, he would expect me to head for the basement of the gym. But here- Pops would expect me to head up into the mountains.”
“You won’t need to.”
“Sir?”
“Dad means,” explained Karen, “that you are welcome in our panic hole.”
Barbara showed a questioning look. Her host said, “Our bomb shelter. ‘Farnham’s Folly’ my son calls it. I think you would be safer there than you would be running for the hills-despite the fact that we are only ten miles from a MAMMA Base. If an alarm comes, we’ll duck into it. Right, Joseph?”