Zach Hughes - Pressure Man

“Would it be a loss?” Paul asked.

“I’d send them with fire guns,” Neil said.

“I would first give them a chance to disperse peacefully,” Ellen said.

“Hell, exterminate them where you find them,” Neil said.

“My husband met force with force,” Doris said. “He died.”

There was a moment of silence. “We’re a fine, bloodthirsty crew,” Dom said. “If I decide to start a revolution I’ll recruit all of you.”

“Would it be inhumane to kill the terrorists in order to have peace?” J.J. asked.

“You’re being very persistent with that question, aren’t you?” Ellen asked.

“I’m curious,” J.J. said. “Is it wrong to put the welfare of the race ahead of temporary considerations of personal freedom? Would we be labeled monsters by history if we killed thousands in order to make life better for millions?”

“That question is too big for me,” Dom said.

“Because it could come to that,” J.J. said. “You may be forced to take sides, to fight. Space and future hope, or Earth in isolation and slow rot. The future or the present. A loaf of bread for each citizen before starvation or some starvation now and plenty later.”

“I can hope for a loaf now and more loaves in the future,” Dom said. “I can hope that that alien on Jupiter has a sublight drive and we pull him out and he shares his secrets with us. I can hope that we’ll build a fleet of starships and start sending out colonists to grow good wheat so that every man does not want for bread.”

“I can go with that,” J.J. said. “But what if the bogie is not a sublight ship? What if it is merely an unmanned probe which has been traveling for centuries? Sure, a sublight drive would solve all our problems, provided that there are rich, uninhabited planets out there. But what would solve our short-term problems and give us an opportunity to develop our own starships?”

“That’s simple,” Ellen said. “Food.”

“Food,” J.J. said. “All our recent efforts have been directed toward providing more food. We’re going to Jupiter to try to salvage an alien ship in the hope that it will enable us to move the race to a new food supply. Food is the key. The man, or group of men, who provide the world with food can control the world without armed revolution. Do you agree?”

“Meaning that if we, as you say, bring home the bacon, the service will have a strong voice in policy?” Doris asked.

“Shouldn’t we?” J. J. countered.

“So we’re going to Jupiter so that we can tell other men what to do?” Doris asked.

“Hell, no,” J. J. said. “We’re going to Jupiter to get a few loaves of bread.” He spread his hands. “But when it comes down to it, who would you rather have running things, service people or men like the senator from New Mexico?”

“Knowing some high-ranking service people, that’s not much of a choice,” Dom said.

“Flash, you wound me,” J.J. said. He smiled. “There’s been a method behind my madness in this discussion. I mentioned the gentleman from New Mexico. As of this morning, Pacific time, he announced that he has been the controlling force behind the Earthfirster movement. Further, he said that he has effected a union of all radical forces, with the two main groups being Firsters and Worldsavers, and that he intends to take over sole control of the government, either by peaceful means or by armed force.”

“My God,” Doris said.

Dom felt a cold chill run up his spine.

“There will be civil war,” J.J. said. “When we return, well have to take sides.”

“If it isn’t over when we get back,” Neil said.

“Who the hell will fight them?” Art asked. “Not the government in Washington.”

“The Department of Space Exploration has joined with all branches of the service to declare loyalty to the government,” J.J. said.

“The government is riddled with Firsters and Worldsavers,” Dom said.

“The radicals walked out of Congress, declaring it an instrument of totalitarianism. There’s no one left in Washington but the President, a few members of his cabinet, and a few very brave liberals.”

“What a choice,” Neil said. “The terrorists or the bleeding hearts.”

“It’s the only choice we have,” J.J. said, “but you can easily see that if we muster enough force to beat them, we’ll be running things when it’s over. I mean the combined services.”

“Has fighting actually started?” Ellen asked.

“It’s fairly unorganized, for the moment.” J.J. sighed. “There is a main force of radicals pushing eastward from California, picking up recruits as they move. Their target is probably DOSEWEX. A couple of the southern bases, one army and one naval base, have been taken. But mainly the losses have been in the northeast. The southern army and sea marine bases are furnishing most of the loyal troops. There’s a defense line being drawn up running roughly from Chicago to the Texas gulf coast.”

“Can it be held?” Neil asked.

“That remains to be seen. As it looks now, the services, with the exception of the space arms, which have a higher percentage of loyalty, seem to be divided about fifty-fifty.”

“We could newk the bastards and get it over,” Paul said.

“And poison our own country,” J.J. said.

“Leave it so battered that the overseas radicals could walk in,” Neil said.

“Right now we’re fighting a limited war,” J.J. said. “It’s tough to slaughter your own people. You don’t use nuclear weapons on your own country. You try to hold the damage down and pray that old John Q. Public will come up right, as he so often does. The unwashed masses. Sooner or later they’re going to pull their heads out of their TV sets and realize that someone is shooting at them. The way John Q. moves will decide it. Right now there are two relatively small armies shooting at each other.”

“The public will decide the issue on very intelligent thought,” Paul said. “Like which side has the most photogenic generals and the prettiest uniforms.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” J.J. said. “One of the first results of the war will be the destruction of the distribution system. People will be scavenging for edible weeds in the fields. When that happens, we’ll get right down to the nitty-gritty. If we can convince the public that hunger is the result of a war started by the radicals, they might come in on our side. Our mission takes on a new importance. Because if we can go back and promise them the stars—”

“And once we’re in control give them the stars,” Neil said.

Dom was numb. He kept hearing that phrase in his mind. Once we’re in control. It was almost as if—but it was Doris who voiced his suspicions.

“J.J., you knew it was coming, didn’t you? Your whole plan was built around a coming revolution.”

“I can say this,” J.J. said. “We are important, very important, and we have the support of what’s left of the government and of all the services.”

The approach to Mars was always an exciting experience for Dom. The negligible atmosphere of the planet allowed a clear view of the surface. A dust storm was blowing in a cyclonic pattern west of the Hellas plains in the southern hemisphere. The film of ice deposits in the northern polar area gleamed, a white jewel atop the globe. Doris was by his side, keeping an avid eye on the viewers, since it was her first trip to Mars.

Although she was arid, cruel, deadly to an unprotected man, Mars was Dom’s second home. In recent years he’d spent as much time there as he had on Earth. He was proud to be a part of a service which made human presence on Mars possible, and he was bitter because events on Earth now threatened, more than ever, the developments which had been scratched and dug out of the planet at the cost of much labor and some human life.