THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS by Robert A. Heinlein

Manifesto noted that Terran scientists still in Luna could return home in any vessel which conformed to our requirements. It invited all freedom-loving Terran nations to denounce wrongs done us and which the Authority planned against us, recognize us, and enjoy free trade and full intercourse–and pointed out that there were no tariffs or any artificial restrictions against trade in Luna, and was policy of Luna government to keep it that way. We invited immigration, unlimited, and pointed out that we had a labor shortage and any immigrant could be self-supporting at once.

We also boasted of food–adult consumption over four thousand calories per day, high in protein, low in cost, no rationing. (Stu had Adam-Mike stick in price of 100-proof vodka–fifty cents HKL per liter, less in quantity, no taxes. Since this was less than one-tenth retail price of 80-proot vodka in North America, Stu knew it would hit home. Adam, “by nature” a teetotaler, hadn’t thought of it–one of Mike’s few oversights.)

Lunar Authority was invited to gather at one spot well away from other people, say in unirrigated part of Sahara, and receive one last barge of grain free–straight down at terminal velocity. This was followed by a snotty lecture which implied that we were prepared to do same to anyone who threatened our peace, there being a number of loaded barges at catapult head, ready for such unceremonious delivery.

Then we waited.

But we waited busily. Were indeed a few loaded barges; these we unloaded and reloaded with rock, with changes made in guidance transponders so that Poona Control could not affect them. Their retros were removed, leaving only lateral thrustors, and spare retros were taken to new catapult, to be modified for lateral guidance. Greatest effort went into moving steel to new catapult and shaping it into jackets for solid rock cylinders–steel was bottleneck.

Two days after our manifesto a “clandestine” radio started beaming to Terra. Was weak and tended to fade and was supposed to be concealed, presumably in a crater, and could be worked only certain hours until brave Terran scientists managed to rig automatic repeat. Was near frequency of Voice of Free Luna, which tended to drown it out with brassy boasts.

(Terrans remaining in Luna had no chance to make signals. Those who had chosen to stick with research were chaperoned by stilyagi every instant and locked into barracks to sleep.)

But “clandestine” station managed to get “truth” to Terra. Prof had been tried for deviationism and was under house arrest. I had been executed for treason. Hong Kong Luna had pulled out, declared self separately independent. . . might be open to reason. Rioting in Novylen. All food growing had been collectivized and black-market eggs were selling for three dollars apiece in Lana City. Battalions of female troops were being enlisted, each sworn to kill at least one Terran, and were drilling with fake guns in corridors of Luna City.

Last was an almost-true. Many ladies wanted to do something militant and had formed a Home Defense Guard, “Ladies from Hades.” But their drills were of a practical nature–and Hazel was sulking because Mum had not allowed her to join. Then she got over sulks and started “Stilyagi Debs,” a very junior home guard which drilled after school hours, did not use weapons, concentrated on backing up stilyagi air & pressure corps, and practiced first aid–and own no-weapons fighting, which–possibly–Mum never learned.

I don’t know how much to tell. Can’t tell all, but stuff in history books is so wrong!

I was no better a “defense minister” than “congressman.” Not apologizing, had no training for either. Revolution is an amateur thing for almost everybody; Prof was only one who seemed to know what he was doing, and, at that, was new to him, too–he had never taken part in a successful revolution or ever been part of a government, much less head.

As Minister of Defense I could not see many ways to defend except for steps already taken; that is, stilyagi air squads in warrens and laser gunners around ballistic radars. If F.N. decided to bomb, didn’t see any way to stop them; wasn’t an interception missile in all Luna and that’s not a gadget you whomp up from bits and pieces. My word, we couldn’t even make fusion weapons with which such a rocket is tipped.

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