Robert Heinlein - The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress

That choom was almost sensible, merely a literary critic, which is harmless, like dead yeast left in beer. But-- Well, take that woman who hated everything. She was there with list; read it aloud and moved to have it incorporated into Declaration "so that the peoples of Terra will know that we are civilized and fit to take our places in the councils of mankind!"

Prof not only let her get away with it; he encouraged her, letting her talk when other people wanted to--then blandly put her proposal to a vote when hadn't even been seconded. (Congress operated by rules they had wrangled over for days. Prof was familiar with rules but followed them only as suited him.) She was voted down in a shout, and left.

Then somebody stood up and said of course that long list didn't belong in Declaration--but shouldn't we have general principles? Maybe a statement that Luna Free State guaranteed freedom, equality, and security to all? Nothing elaborate, just those fundamental principles that everybody knew was proper purpose of goiverament.

True enough and let's pass it--but must read "Freedom, equality, peace, and security"--right, Comrade? They wrangled over whether "freedom" included "free air," or was that part of "security"? Why not be on safe side and list "free air" by name? Move to amend to make it "free air and water"--because you didn't have "freedom" or "security" unless you had both air and water.

Air, water, and food.

Air, water, food, and cubic.

Air, water, food, cubic, and heat.

No, make "heat" read "power" and you had it all covered. Everything.

Cobber, have you lost your mind? That's far from everything and what you've left out is an affront to all womankind-- Step outside and say that! Let me finish. We've got to tell them right from deal that we will permit no more ships to land unless they carry at least as many women as men. At least, I said--and I for one won't chop it unless it sets immigration issue straight.

Prof never lost dimples.

Began to see why Prof had slept all day and was not wearing weights. Me, I was tired, having spent all day in p-suit out beyond catapult head cutting in last of relocated ballistic radars. And everybody was tired; by midnight crowd began to thin, convinced that nothing would be accomplished that night and bored by any yammer not their own.

Was later than midnight when someone asked why this Declaration was dated fourth when today was second? Prof said mildly that it was July third now--and it seemed unlikely that our Declaration could be announced earlier than fourth and that July fourth carried historical symbolism that might help.

Several people walked out at announcement that probably nothing would be settled until fourth of July. But I began to notice something: Hall was filling as fast as was emptying. Finn Nielsen slid into a seat that had just been vacated. Comrade Clayton from Hong Kong showed up, pressed my shoulder, smiled at Wyoh, found a seat. My youngest lieutenants. Slim and Hazel, I spotted down front--and was thinking I must alibi Hazel by telling Mum I had kept her out on Parts business--when was amused to see Mum herself next to them. And Sidris. And Greg, who was supposed to be at new catapult.

Looked around and picked out a dozen more--night editor of Lunaya Pravda, General Manager of LuNoHoCo, others, and each one a working comrade, Began to see that Prof had stacked deck. That Congress never had a fixed membership; these dinkum comrades had as much right to show up as those who had been talking a month. Now they sat--and voted down amendments.

About three hundred, when I was wondering how much more I could take, someone brought a note to Prof. He read it, banged gavel and said, "Adam Selene begs your indulgence. Do I hear unanimous consent?"

So screen back of rostrum lighted up again and Adam told them that he had been following debate and was warmed by many thoughtful and constructive criticisms. But could he made a suggestion? Why not admit that any piece of writing was imperfect? If thin declaration was in general what they wanted, why not postpone perfection for another day and pass this as it stands? "Honorable Chairman, I so move."

They passed it with a yell. Prof said, "Do I hear objection?" and waited with gavel raised. A man who had been talking when Adam had asked to be heard said, "Well,... still say that's a dangling participle, but okay, leave it in."

Prof hanged gavel. "So ordered!"

Then we filed up and put our chops on a big scroll that had been "sent over from Adam's office"---and I noticed Adam's chop on it. I signed right under Hazel--child now could write although was still short on book learning. Her chop was shaky but she wrote it large and proud. Comrade Clayton signed his Party name, real name in letters, and Japanese chop, three little pictures one above other. Two comrades chopped with X's and had them witnessed. All Party leaders were there that night (morning), all chopped it, and not more than a dozen yammerers stuck. But those who did, put their chops down for history to read. And thereby committed "their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honors."

While queue was moving slowly past and people were talking, Prof banged for attention. "I ask for volunteers for a dangerous mission. This Declaration will go on the news channels--but must be presented in person to the Federated Nations, on Terra."

That put stop to noise. Prof was looking at me. I swallowed and said, "I volunteer." Wyoh echoed, "So do I!"--and little Hazel Meade said, "Me, too!"

In moments were a dozen, from Finn Nielsen to Gospodin Dangling-Participle (turned out to be good cobber aside from his fetish). Prof took names, murmured something about getting in touch as transportation became available.

I got Prof aside and said, "Look, Prof, you too tired to track? You know ship for seventh was canceled; now they're talking about slapping embargo on us. Next ship they lift for Luna will be a warship. How you planning to travel? As prisoner?"

"Oh, we won't use their ships."

"So? Going to build one? Any idea how long that takes? If could build one at all. Which I doubt."

"Manuel, Mike says it's necessary--and has it all worked out."

I did know Mike said was necessary; he had rerun problem soon as we learned that bright laddies at Richardson had snuck one home--he now gave us only one chance in fifty-three... with imperative need for Prof to go Earthside. But I'm not one to worry about impossibilities; I had spent day working to make that one chance in fifty-three turn up.

"Mike will provide the ship," Prof went on. "He has completed its design and it is being worked on."

"He has? It is? Since when is Mike engineer?"

"Isn't he?" asked Prof.

I started to answer, shut up. Mike had no degrees. Simply knew more engineering than any man alive. Or about Shakespeare's plays, or riddles, or history, name it. "Tell me more."

"Manuel, we'll go to Terra as a load of grain."

"What? Who's 'we'?"

"You and myself. The other volunteers are merely decorative."

I said, "Look, Prof. I've stuck. Worked hard when whole thing seemed silly. Worn these weights--got 'em on now--on chance I might have to go to that dreadful place. But contracted to go in a ship, with at least a Cyborg pilot to help me get down safely. Did not agree to go as meteorite."

He said, "Very well, Manuel. I believe in free choice, always. Your alternate will go."

"My-- Who?"

"Comrade Wyoming. So far as I know she is the only other person in training for the trip... other than a few Terrans."

So I went. But talked to Mike first. He said patiently. "Man my first friend, there isn't a thing to worry about. You are scheduled load KM187 series '76 and you'll arrive in Bombay with no trouble. But to be sure--to reassure you--I selected that barge because it will be taken out of parking orbit and landed when India is faced toward me, and I've added an override so that I can take you away from ground control if I don't like the way they handle you. Trust me, Man, it has all been thought through. Even the decision to continue shipments when security was broken was part of this plan."