Instead of saying goodnight Mum said, “Manuel? Why does your sweet little guest make herself up as an Afro? I would think that her natural coloration would be more becoming. Not that she isn’t perfectly charming the way she chooses to be.”
So rolled over and faced her, and explained–sounded thin, so filled in. And found self telling all–except one point: Mike. I included Mike–but not as computer–instead as a man Mum was not likely to meet, for security reasons.
But telling Mum–taking her into my subcell, should say, to become leader of own cell in turn–taking Mum into conspiracy was not case of husband who can’t keep from blurting everything to his wife. At most was hasty–but was best time if she was to be told.
Mum was smart. Also able executive; running big family without baring teeth requires that. Was respected among farm families and throughout Luna City; she had been up longer than 90 percent. She could help.
And would be indispensable inside family. Without her help Wyoh and I would find it sticky to use phone together (hard to explain), keep kids from noticing (impossible!)–but with Mum’s help would be no problems inside household.
She listened, sighed, said, “It sounds dangerous, dear.”
“Is,” I said. “Look, Mimi, if you don’t want to tackle, say so then forget what I’ve told.”
“Manuel! Don’t even say that. You are my husband, dear; I took you for better, for worse. . . and your wish is my command.”
(My word, what a lie! But Mimi believed it.)
“I would not let you go into danger alone,” she went on, “and besides–”
“What, Mimi?”
“I think every Loonie dreams of the day when we will be free. All but some poor spineless rats. I’ve never talked about it; there seemed to be no point and it’s necessary to look up, not down, lift one’s burden and go ahead. But I thank dear Bog that I have been permitted to live to see the time come, if indeed it has. Explain more about it. I am to find three others, is it? Three who can be trusted.”
“Don’t hurry. Move slowly. Be sure.”
“Sidris can be trusted. She holds her tongue, that one.”
“Don’t think you should pick from family. Need to spread out. Don’t rush.”
“I shan’t. We’ll talk before I do anything. And Manuel, if you want my opinion–” She stopped.
“Always want your opinion, Mimi.”
“Don’t mention this to Grandpaw. He’s forgetful these days and sometimes talkative. Now sleep, dear, and don’t dream.”
9
Followed a long time during which would have been possible to forget anything as unlikely as revolution had not details taken so much time. Our first purpose was not to be noticed. Long distance purpose was to make things as much worse as possible.
Yes, worse. Never was a time, even at last, when all Loonies wanted to throw off Authority, wanted it bad enough to revolt. All Loonies despised Warden and cheated Authority. Didn’t mean they were ready to fight and die. If you had mentioned “patriotism” to a Loonie, he would have stared–or thought you were talking about his homeland. Were transported Frenchmen whose hearts belonged to “La Belle Patrie,” ex-Germans loyal to Vaterland, Russkis who still loved Holy Mother Russia. But Luna? Luna was “The Rock,” place of exile, not thing to love.
We were as non-political a people as history ever produced. I know, I was as numb to politics as any until circumstances pitched me into it. Wyoming was in it because she hated Authority for a personal reason, Prof because he despised all authority in a detached intellectual fashion, Mike because he was a bored and lonely machine and was for him “only game in town.” You could not have accused us of patriotism. I came closest because I was third generation with total lack of affection for any place on Terra, had been there, disliked it and despised earthworms. Made me more “patriotic” than most!
Average Loonie was interested in beer, betting, women, and work, in that order. “Women” might be second place but first was unlikely, much as women were cherished. Loonies had learned there never were enough women to go around. Slow learners died, as even most possessive male can’t stay alert every minute. As Prof says, a society adapts to fact, or doesn’t survive. Loonies adapted to harsh facts–or failed and died. But “patriotism” was not necessary to survival.