Heinlein, Robert A – Expanded Universe

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water within reach. I’ll leave you some pills, too-that’ll give you some comfort and

ease. Only half a pill for you-they’re intended for cows.” He grinned at his

patient.

“Half a pill it is. Why not let Dad handle the evacuation? He’ll make you a

good deputy-and I’d like to talk with you until you leave.”

“Right.” He called Carter over, instructed him, and turned back to Morgan.

“After you join up with Powell’s outfit,” whispered Morgan, “your first job

is to get into touch with Brockman. Better get Mrs. Carter started right away, once

you’ve talked it over with Powell.”

”I will.”

“That’s the most important thing we’ve got to worry about, Doc. We’ve got to

have unity, and one plan, from coast to coast. I look forward to a day when there

will be an American assigned, by name, to each and every one of them. Then at a set

time-zzzt!” He drew a thumb across his throat.

McCracken nodded. “Could be. It will be. How long do you think it will take

us?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think about ‘how long’. Two years, five years, ten

years-maybe a century. That’s not the point. The only question is whether or not

there are any guts left in America.” He glanced out where the fifth person to leave

was awaiting a signal

from Carter, who in turn was awaiting a signal from Art, hidden out where he could

watch for the helicopter. “Those people will stick.”

“I’m sure of that.”

Presently Morgan added, “There’s one thing this has taught me: You can’t

enslave a free man. Only person can do that to a man is himself. No, sir-you can’t

enslave a free man. The most you can do is kill him.”

“That’s a fact, Ed.”

“It is. Got a cigarette, Doc?”

“It won’t do you any good, Ed.”

“It won’t do me any harm, either-now, will it?”

“Well, not much.” McCracken unregretfully gave him his last and watched him

smoke it.

Later, Morgan said, “Dad’s ready for you, Captain. So long.”

“So long. Don’t forget. Half a pill at a time. Drink all the water you want,

but don’t take your blankets off, no matter how hot you get.”

“Half a pill it is. Good luck.”

“I’ll have Ted check on you tomorrow.” Morgan shook his head. “That’s too

soon. Not for a couple of days at least.”

McCracken smiled. “I’ll decide that, Ed. You just keep yourself wrapped up.

Good luck.” He withdrew to where Carter waited for him. “You go ahead, Dad. I’ll

bring up the rear. Signal Art to start.”

Carter hesitated. “Tell me straight, Doc. What kind of shape is he in?”

McCracken studied Carter’s face, then said in a low voice, “I give him about

two hours.”

“I’ll stay behind with him.”

“No, Dad, you’ll carry out your orders.” Seeing the distress in the old

man’s eyes, he added, “Don’t you worry about Morgan. A free man can take care of

himself. Now get moving.”

“Yes, sir.”

FOREWORD

This story was tailored in length (1500 words) for Colliers as a

short-short. I then tried it on the American Legion magazine-and was scolded for

suggesting that the treatment given our veterans was ever less than perfect. I then

offered it to several SF editors-and was told that it was not a science fiction

story. (Gee whiz and Gosh wollickers!-space warps and FTL are science but therapy

and psychology are not. I must be in the wrong church.)

But this story does have a major sho rtcorning, one that usually is fatal.

Try to spot it. I will put the answer just after the end.

NO BANDS PLAYING, NO

FLAGS FLYINGPage

100

“The bravest man lever saw in my life!” Jones said,

being rather shrill about it.

We-Jones and Arkwright and I-were walking toward the parking lot at the

close of visiting hours out at the veterans hospital. Wars come and wars go, but the

wounded we have always with us-and damned little attention they get between wars. If

you bother to look (few do), you can find some broken human remnants dating clear

back to World War One in some of our wards.