Heinlein, Robert A – Expanded Universe

politics being what it is, a dozen different nations are working on the problem

right now.”

Hughes had been looking perturbed; his face cleared. “Oh, I see what you

mean. In time, they can dig it out for themselves. In that case, gentlemen, let’s

have a round on the house and drink to their frustration. I can’t be worrying about

what might happen twenty years from now. We might none of us be spared that long

what with taxicabs and the like.”

Mansfield’s brows shot up. “Why do you say twenty years, Paddy?”

“Eh? Oh, I seem to remember reading it in the papers. That general, wasn’t

it? The one who was in charge of the atom-bomb business.”

Mansfield brushed the general aside. “Poppycock! That estimate is based on

entirely unwarranted national conceit. The time will be much shorter.”

Page 113

“How much shorter?” demanded Hughes. Mansfield shrugged.

“What would you do, Paddy,” Warner asked curiously, “if you thought some

nation-let’s say some nation that didn’t like us-had already managed to manufacture

atom bombs?”

The saloon cat came strolling along the top of the bar. Hughes stopped to

feed it a slice of cheese before replying. “I do not have your learning, gentlemen,

but Paddy Hughes is no fool. If someone is loose in the world with those devil’s

contraptions, New York is a doomed city. America is the champion and must be beaten

before any new bully boy can hope to win-and New York is one of the spots he would

shoot at first. Even Sad Sack-” He jerked a thumb at the cat. “-is bright enough to

flee from a burning building.”

“Well, what do you think you would do?”

“I don’t ‘think’ what I’d do, I know what I’d do; I’ve done it before. When

I was a young man and the Blackand-Tans were breathing down the back o’ my neck, I

climbed on a ship with never a thought of looking back-and any man who wanted them

could have my pigs and welcome to them.”

Warner chuckled. “You must have been quite the

lad, Paddy. But I don’t believe you would do it-not now. You’re firmly rooted in

your rttt and you like it- like me and six million others in this town. That’s why

decentralization is a fantasy.”

Hughes nodded. “It would be hard.” That it would be hard he understood. Like

leaving home it would be to quit Schreiber’s Bar-Grill after all these years-

Schreiber couldn’t run it without him; he’d chase all the customers away. It would

be hard to leave his friends in the parish, hard to leave his home-what with Molly’s

grave being just around the corner and all. And if the cities were to be blown up a

man would have to go back to farming. He’d promised himself when he hit the new

country that he’d never, never, never tackle the heartbreaking load of tilling the

soil again. Well, perhaps there would be no landlords when the cities were gone. If

a man must farm, at least he might be spared that. Still, it would be hard-and

Molly’s grave off somewhere in the rubble. “But I’d do

it.

“You think you would.”

“I wouldn’t even go back to Brooklyn to pick up my other shirt. I’ve my

week’s pay envelope right here.” He patted his vest. “I’d grab my hat and start

walking.” The bartender turned to Mansfield. “Tell me the truth, Doctor-if it’s not

twenty years, how long will it be?”

Mansfield took out an envelope and started figuring on the back of it.

Warner started to speak, but Hughes cut him off. “Quiet while he’s working it out!”

he said sharply.

“Don’t let him kid you, Paddy,” Warner said wryly. “He’s been lying awake

nights working out this problem ever since Hiroshima.”

Mansfield looked up. “That’s true. But I keep hoping I’ll come out with a

different answer. I never do.”

“Well, what is the answer?” Hughes insisted.

Mansfield hesitated. “Paddy, you understand that there are a lot of factors

involved, not all of them too

clear. Right? In the first place, it took us about four years. But we were lavish

with money and lavish with men, more so maybe than any other nation could be, except