THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS by Robert A. Heinlein

“Damn it,” I said, “they’ve got to. When we spot a missile headed for Tycho Under will be too late. You’ll have people trampling people and trying to crowd into capsules that won’t hold them. Finn, your boys have got to make them.”

Prof shook his head. “No, Manuel.”

I said angrily, “Prof, you carry this ‘no coercion’ idea too far! You know they’ll riot.”

“Then they will riot. But we will continue with persuasion, not force. Let us now review plans.’

Plans weren’t much but were best we could do. Warn everybody about expected bombings and/or invasion. Rotate guards from Finn’s militia above each warren starting when and if cruisers passed around Luna into blind space, Farside–not get caught flat-footed again. Maximum pressure and p-suit precautions, all warrens. All military and semi-military to go on blue alert sixteen hundred Saturday, red alert if missiles launched or ships maneuvered. Brody’s gunners encouraged to go into town and get drunk or whatever, returning by fifteen hundred Saturday–Prof’s idea. Finn wanted to keep half of them on duty. Prof said No, they would be in better shape for a long vigil if they relaxed and enjoyed selves first–I agreed with Prof.

As for bombing Terra we made no changes in first rotation. Were getting anguished responses from India, no news from Great China. Yet India had little to moan about. Had not used a grid on her, too heavily populated. Aside from picked spots in Thar Desert and some peaks, targets were coastal waters off seaports.

But should have picked higher mountains or given less warning; seemed from news that some holy man followed by endless pilgrims chose to climb each target peak and hold off our retaliation by sheer spiritual strength.

So we were murderers again. Besides that, our water shots killed millions of fish and many fishermen, as fishermen and other seafarers had not heeded warnings. Indian government seemed as furious over fish as over fishermen–but principle of sacredness of all life did not apply to us; they wanted our heads.

Africa and Europe responded more sensibly but differently. Life has never been sacred in Africa and those who went sightseeing on targets got little bleeding-heart treatment. Europe had a day to learn that we could hit where we promised and that our bombs were deadly. People killed, yes, especially bullheaded sea captains. But not killed in empty-headed swarms as in India and North America. Casualties were even lighter in Brasil and other parts of South America.

Then was North America’s turn again–0950.28 Saturday 17 Oct ’76.

Mike timed it for exactly 1000 our time which, allowing for one day’s progress of Luna in orbit and for rotation of Terra, caused North America to face toward us at 0500 their East Coast time and 0200 their West Coast time.

But argument as to what to do with this targeting had started early Saturday morning. Prof had not called meeting of War Cabinet but they showed up anyhow, except “Clayton” Watenabe who had gone back to Kongville to take charge of defenses. Prof, self, Finn, Wyoh, Judge Brody, Wolfgang, Stu, Terence Sheehan–which made eight different opinions. Prof is right; more than three people can’t decide anything.

Six opinions, should say, for Wyoh kept pretty mouth shut, and so did Prof; he moderated. But others were noisy enough for eighteen. Stu didn’t care what we hit–provided New York Stock Exchange opened on Monday morning. “We sold short in nineteen different directions on Thursday. If this nation is not to be bankrupt before it’s out of its cradle, my buy orders covering those shorts had better be executed. Tell them, Wolf; make them understand.”

Brody wanted to use catapult to smack any more ships leaving parking orbit. Judge knew nothing about ballistics–simply understood that his drillmen were in exposed positions. I didn’t argue as most remaining loads were already in stow orbits and rest would be soon–and didn’t think we would have old catapult much longer.

Sheenie thought it would be smart to repeat that grid while placing one load exactly on main building of North American Directorate. “I know Americans, I was one before they shipped me. They’re sorry as hell they ever turned things over to F.N. Knock off those bureaucrats and they’ll come over to our side.”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *