Zach Hughes - Pressure Man

For essential communications, the Kennedy was equipped with a squirter, a device which compacted voice messages into a split-second burst of energy and beamed the messages down to DOSEWEX, where they were recorded, stretched, and decoded. Messages were received in the same way, and only J.J. had access to the decoder. He held briefings on important communications. He was concerned by a new, all-out attack on the space program. Budget cutting in Congress was only one symptom. There was nothing definite as yet, but the FBI reported an apparent lessening of competition among the various radical groups. One indication was an attack on the DOSE communications station during which both Earthfirsters and Worldsavers had been killed.

One of the persistent questions sent by J.J. asked who had made the decision, at the last minute, to reverse a continuing policy of appeasement in dealing with terrorists.

“It is very strange,” he said, “because for years I’ve advocated a get-tough policy. I have always said that it would be best, in the long run, to sacrifice a few lives by refusing ransom demands. Sure, it would be rough on the victims, but it would save lives over the long period. For years I’ve been overruled from the political side. A gang of terrorists takes a hostage and demands the release of imprisoned terrorists, or money, or some political objective. In the past the bleeding hearts have forced us to give in in the name of saving the life of the hostage. Then, all of a sudden, when there’s more at stake than there ever has been, when the Kennedy herself is the pawn, when the last hope for space is the prize, we embark on a new policy of non-negotiation.”

“A political decision?” Dom suggested. “Because the politicians really wanted the Kennedy to be destroyed?”

“I’ve asked repeatedly,” J.J. said. “I get no answers. My main question is this. How did the Earthsiders find out about the situation when the moon was blocked off from any communications?”

“Any one of a dozen facilities could have broken radio silence,” Doris said.

“Or someone in Washington could have known in advance about Benson’s bomb,” J.J. said. “Someone at a high level had to be involved to get a bomb into Canaveral for that first attempt, and ditto to getting Bensen assigned to load the water.”

“Admiral Pinkerton?” Neil asked.

“He has only a couple of years to go before retirement,” J.J. said. “He’s had a good career. I don’t see him as a traitor to the service.”

“That’s the problem,” Dom said. “Who can we trust? There had to be a relatively high-level traitor at DOSEWEX to arrange the raid there.”

“We have one advantage,” J.J. said. “We know we’re fighting for survival, not only for the space program but for all of humanity. I seem always to be giving pep talks, but what the hell. It all boils down to seven people, us. We bring back the bacon or that’s it for space. The Kennedy will make a few Mars runs and then she’ll be scrapped. The Mars stations will be closed. Eventually even the moon will be closed and we’ll all be down there breeding ourselves into starvation. What follows will make the Dark Ages seem like an era of enlightenment.”

“It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Jensen asked. “Sometimes I think what we need is a man on horseback, a real leader.”

“A military takeover of the government?” J.J. asked sternly.

“What government?” Jensen snorted. “That bunch of idiots in Washington?”

“Are you saying that you feel democracy has outlived its usefulness?” J.J. asked.

“There never has been true democracy,” Jensen said. “And certainly not in recent years. Not with terrorists depriving people of their right to live, their right to make their own decisions.”

J.J. nodded grimly. “There have always been criminals among us, but when the cities grew too large to be governed properly the criminals were more free to act. Sensible citizens locked themselves in their apartments when they were deprived of the right to walk the streets in safety, and the early efforts to remedy the situation were one hundred eighty degrees off target. The bleeding-heart school of sociologists said that the criminal was merely a product of his environment, that he was to be pitied. Criminal penalties grew steadily less severe. A man can commit murder now and either walk free or serve no more than three years in a government detention home which is much like a country club. When the bleeding hearts finally pushed through anti-gun legislation and confiscated all firearms from lawful citizens, they left enough arms in the hands of criminal types to start a revolution. Then the terrorists gained a foothold in the twentieth century. At first there was no international condemnation, because certain groups of terrorists had the secret support of certain countries. The individual had no protection against violence. Government failed to live up to the obligation to protect the people. Sensible men refused to remember that since the beginning, force can only be countered by force. Man has always been a predator, merciless to his fellow men. And when the majority lets a minority composed of predators control policy and topple governments, it’s all over.”

“You’re saying that most of us have become overcivlized,” Doris said.

“Or soft-headed.” J.J. sighed. “Sure, it’s humane to feel pity for the unfortunate and to help when it is possible. It is damned well not possible to give to every individual in the world the luxuries which, in the past, were the rewards for achievers. Take one absurd example. There just isn’t enough gold in existence to give every person on earth a gold ring. There isn’t enough of several commodities to give every woman a washing machine, a dishwasher, a toaster, a television set. The world was not meant to support so many people. And I think there is an overall design in the basic reality that the world alone cannot provide the ideal life for eight billion people.”

“The old argument for space,” Ellen said. “It is man’s destiny to go into space, since his small world can’t satisfy his needs.”

“I think man’s place is in space,” Neil said, “but I don’t believe in some predestined force. I think the stars are just there and it’s immaterial to the universe whether man reaches them or not.”

“There are still those who think we’re going to come face to face with God out there in space and be blinded,” Art said.

“Let’s get back to Paul’s suggestion of a man on horseback,” Neil said. “Suppose a leader did arise. Suppose he built an organization which could take over the United States. If he had one goal and one goal only, and that was to restore law and order, what actions would he take, and how far would people like us back him?”

“I’d want to know that sooner or later we’d return to a form of democracy,” Doris said.

“I’d grab a weapon and enlist in his force,” Paul said.

“I’d try to become an intimate of his and have a say in things.” J.J. laughed. “But then I’ve always thought that a benevolent dictatorship was the finest and most efficient form of government.”

“As long as I’m the benevolent dictator,” Dom said. “But I’d back the right man, I guess. I know that things look bad, but we’re not finished, not yet. Like Doris, I’d want to return to being a republic, not a democracy. No heirs to the great man allowed, to give power time to corrupt.”

“I can think of a dozen men who’d handle things better than the politicians,” Paul said.

“The sad thing is that the revolution, if there is one, is being run by the wrong people,” Dom said.

“Perhaps, if we finish our mission, there won’t be a revolution,” J.J. said. “What we’ll bring back will be revolutionary, but for the better. But Neil asked a good question. How far would we be willing to go, how many personal freedoms would we be willing to put into storage, in order to restore a bit of sanity in the world? Would we send armed soldiers to break up Earthfirster rallies and kill hundreds?”