Robert Heinlein - The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress

Lenore spoke up. "I volunteer!"

"Thanks, honey; you're accepted."

"We'll find them," said Greg. "Won't need fems."

"Let her do it, Greg; this is everybody's show." Explained what I wanted: Mare Undarum was now in dark semi-lunar; Sun had set. Invisible boundary between sunlight and Luna's shadow stretched over us, a precise locus. Ships passing through our sky would wink suddenly into view going west, blink out going east. Visible part of orbit would stretch from horizon to some point in sky. If eyeball team could spot both points, mark one by bearing, other by stars, and approximate time by counting seconds, Junior could start guessing orbit--two passes and Junior would know its period and something about shape of orbit. Then I would have some notion of when would be safe to use radar and radio, and catapult--did not want to loose a load with F.N. ship above horizon, could be radar-looking our way.

Perhaps too cautious--but had to assume that this catapult, this one radar, these two dozen missiles, were all that stood between Luna and total defeat--and our bluff hinged on them never knowing what we had or where it was. We had to appear endlessly able to pound Terra with missiles, from source they had not suspected and could never find.

Then as now, most Loonies knew nothing about astronomy--we're cave dwellers, we go up to surface only when necessary. But we were lucky; was amateur astronomer in Greg's crew, cobber who had worked at Richardson. I explained, put him in charge, let him worry about teaching eyeball crew how to tell stars apart. I got these things started before we went back to talk-talk. "Well, Stu? Why shouldn't we hit Great China?"

"I'm still expecting word from Dr. Chan. I received one message from him, phoned here shortly before we were cut off from cities--"

"My word, why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried to, but you had yourself locked in and I know better than to bother you when you are busy with ballistics. Here's the translation. Usual LuNoHo Company address with a reference which means it's for me and that it has come through my Paris agent. 'Our Darwin sales representative'--that's Chan--'informs us that your shipments of'--well, never mind the coding; he means the attack days while appearing to refer to last June--'were improperly packaged resulting in unacceptable damage. Unless this can be corrected, negotiations for long-term contract will be serously jeopardized."

Stu looked up. "All doubletalk. I take it to mean that Dr. Chan feels that he has his government ready to talk terms... but that we should let up on bombing Great China or we may upset his apple cart."

"Hmm--" Got up and walked around. Ask Wyoh's opinion? Nobody knew Wyoh's virtues better than I... but she oscillated between fierceness and too-human compassion--and I had learned already that a "head of state," even an acting one, must have neither. Ask Greg? Greg was a good farmer, a better mechanic, a rousing preacher; I loved him dearly--but did not want his opinion. Stu? I had had his opinion.

Or did I? "Stu, what's your opinion? Not Chan's opinion--but your own."

Stu looked thoughtful. "That's difficult, Mannie. I am not Chinese, I have not spent much time in Great China, and can't claim to be expert in their politics nor their psychology. So I'm forced to depend on his opinion."

"Uh-- Damn it, he's not a Loonie! His purposes are not our purposes. What does he expect to get out of it?"

"I think he is maneuvering for a monopoly over Lunar trade. Perhaps bases here, too. Possibly an extraterritorial enclave. Not that we would grant that."

"Might if we were hurtin'."

"He didn't say any of this. He doesn't say much, you know. He listens."

"Too well I know." Worried at it, more bothered each minute.

News from Earthside had been droning in background; I had asked Wyoh to monitor while I was busy with Greg. "Wyoh, hon, anything new from Earthside?"

"No. The same claims. We've been utterly defeated and our surrender is expected momentarily. Oh, there's a warning that some missiles are still in space, falling out of control, but with it a reassurance that the paths are being analyzed and people will be warned in time to avoid impact areas."

"Anything to suggest that Prof--or anybody in Luna City, or anywhere in Luna--is in touch with Earthside?"

"Nothing at all."

"Damn. Anything from Great China?"

"No. Comments from almost everywhere else. But not from Great China."

"Uh--" Stepped to door. "Greg! Hey, cobber, see if you can find Greg Davis. I need him."

Closed door. "Stu, we're not going to let Great China off."

"So?"

"No. Would be nice if Great China busted alliance against us; might save us some damage. But we've got this far only by appearing able to hit them at will and to destroy any ship they send against us. At least I hope that last one was burned and we've certainly clobbered eight out of nine. We won't get anywhere by looking weak, not while F.N. is claiming that we are not just weak but finished. Instead we must hand them surprises. Starting with Great China and if it makes Dr. Chan unhappy, we'll give him a kerchief to weep into. If we can go on looking strong--when F.N. says we're licked--then eventually some veto power is going to crack. If not Great China, then some other one."

Stu bowed without getting up. "Very well, sir."

"I--"

Greg came in. "You want me, Mannie?"

"What makes with Earthside sender?"

"Harry says you have it by tomorrow. A crummy rig, he says, but push watts through it and will be heard."

"Power we got. And if he says 'tomorrow' then he knows what he wants to build. So will be today--say six hours. I'll work under him. Wyoh hon, will you get my arms? Want number-six and number-three--better bring number-five, too. And you stick with me and change arms for me. Stu, want you to write some nasty messages--I'll give you general idea and you put acid in them. Greg, we are not going to get all those rocks into space at once. Ones we have in space now will impact in next eighteen, nineteen hours. Then, when F.N. is announcing that all rocks are accounted for and Lunar menace is over... we crash into their newscast and warn of next bombings. Shortest possible orbits, Greg, ten hours or less--so check everything on catapult and H-plant and controls; with that extra boost all has to be dead on."

Wyoh was back with arms; I told her "number six" and added, "Greg, let me talk with Harry."

Six hours later sender was ready to beam toward Terra. Was ugly job, vandalized mainly out of a resonance prospector used in project's early stages. But could ride an audio signal on its radio frequency and was powerful. Stu's nastified versions of my warnings had been taped and Harry was ready to zipsqueal them--all Terran satellites could accept high speed at sixty-to-one and had no wish to have our sender heated more seconds than necessary; eyeball watch had confirmed fears: At least two ships were in orbit around Luna.

So we told Great China that her major coastal cities would each receive a Lunar present offset ten kilometers into ocean--Pusan, Tsingtao, Taipei, Shanghai, Saigon, Bangkok, Singapore, Djakarta, Darwin, and so forth--except that Old Hong Kong would get one smack on top of F.N.'s Far East offices, so kindly have all human beings move far back. Stu noted that human beings did not mean F.N. personnel; they were urged to stay at desks.

India was given similar warnings about coastal cities and was told that F.N. global offices would be spared one more rotation out of respect for cultural monuments in Agra--and to permit human beings to evacuate. (I intended to extend this by another rotation as deadline approached--out of respect for Prof. And then another, indefinitely. Damn it, they would build their home offices next door to most overdecorated tomb ever built. But one that Prof treasured.)