Robert Heinlein - The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress

Rest of world was told to keep their seats; game was going extra innings. But stay away from any F.N. offices anywhere; we were frothing at mouth and no F.N. office was safe. Better yet, get out of any city containing an F.N. headquarters--but F.N. vips and finks were urged to sit tight.

Then spent next twenty hours coaching Junior into sneaking his radar peeks when our sky was clear of ships, or believed to be. Napped when I could and Lenore stayed with me and woke me in time for next coaching. And that ended Mike's rocks and we all went into alert while we got first of Junior's rocks flung high and fast. Waited until certain it had gone hot and true-- then told Terra where to look for it and where and when to expect it, so that all would know that F.N.'s claims of victory were on a par with their century of lies about Luna--all in Stu's best, snotty, supercilious phrases delivered in his cultured accents.

First one should have been for Great China but was one piece of North American Directorate we could reach with it--her proudest jewel, Hawaii. Junior placed it in triangle formed by Maui, Molokai, and Lanai. I didn't work out programming; Mike had anticipated everything.

Then pronto we got off ten more rocks at short intervals (had to skip one program, a ship in our sky) and told Great China where to look and when to expect them and where--coastal cities we had neglected day before.

Was down to twelve rocks but decided was safer to run out of ammunition than to look as if we were running out. So I awarded seven to Indian coastal cities, picking new targets--and Stu inquired sweetly if Agra had been evacuated. If not, please tell us at once. (But heaved no rock at it.)

Egypt was told to clear shipping out of Suez Canal--bluff; was hoarding last five rocks.

Then waited.

Impact at Lahaina Roads, that target in Hawaii. Looked good at high mag; Mike could be proud of Junior.

And waited.

Thirty-seven minutes before first China Coast impact Great China denounced actions of F.N., recognized us, offered to negotiate--and I sprained a finger punching abort buttons.

Then was punching buttons with sore finger; India stumbled over feet following suit.

Egypt recognized us. Other nations started scrambling for door.

Stu informed Terra that we had suspended--only suspended, not stopped--bombardments. Now get those ships out of our sky at once--NOW!--and we could talk. If they could not get home without refilling tanks, let them land not less than fifty kilometers from any mapped warren, then wait for their surrender to be accepted. But clear our sky now!

This ultimatum we delayed a few minutes to let a ship pass beyond horizon; we weren't taking chances--one missile and Luna would have been helpless.

And waited.

Cable crew returned. Had gone almost to Luna City, found break. But thousands of tonnes of loose rock impeded repair, so they had done what they could--gone back to a spot where they could get through to surface, erected a temporary relay in direction they thought Luna City lay, sent up a dozen rockets at ten-minute intervals, and hoped that somebody would see, understand, aim a relay at it-- Any communication?

No.

Waited.

Eyeball squad reported that a ship which had been clockfaithful for nineteen passes had failed to show. Ten minutes later they reported that another ship had missed expected appearance.

We waited and listened.

Great China, speaking on behalf of all veto powers, accepted armistice and stated that our sky was now clear. Lenore burst into tears and kissed everybody she could reach.

After we steadied down (a man can't think when women are grabbing him, especially when five of them are not his wives)--a few minutes later, when we were coherent, I said, "Stu, want you to leave for Luna City at once. Pick your party. No women--you'll have to walk surface last kilometers. Find out what's going on--but first get them to aim a relay at ours and phone me."

"Very good, sir."

We were getting him outfitted for a tough journey--extra air bottles, emergency shelter, so forth--when Earthside called me on frequency we were listening to because message was (learned later) on all frequencies up from Earthside:

"Private message, Prof to Mannie--identification, birthday Bastille and Sherlock's sibling. Come home at once. Your carriage waits at your new relay. Private message, Prof to--"

And went on repeating.

"Harry!"

"Da, Boss?"

"Message Earthside--tape and squeal; we still don't want them ranging us. 'Private message, Mannie to Prof. Brass Cannon. On my way!' Ask them to acknowledge--but use only one squeal."

Stu and Greg drove on way back, while Wyoh and Lenore and I huddled on open flatbed, strapped to keep from falling off; was too small. Had time to think; neither girl had suit radio and we could talk only by helmet touch--awkward.

Began to see--now that we had won--parts of Prof's plan that had never been clear to me. Inviting attack against catapult had spared warrens--hoped it had; that was plan--but Prof had always been cheerfully indifferent to damage to catapult. Sure, had a second one--but far away and difficult to reach. Would take years to put a tube system to new catapult, high mountains all way. Probably cheaper to repair old one. If possible.

Either way, no grain shipped to Terra in meantime.

And that was just what Prof wanted! Yet never once had he hinted that his plan was based on destroying old catapult--his long-range plan, not just Revolution. He might not admit it now. But Mike would tell me--if put to him flatly: Was or was not this one factor in odds? Food riot predictions and all that, Mike? He would tell me.

That tonne-for-tonne deal-- Prof had expounded it Earthside, had been argument for a Terran catapult. But privately he had no enthusiasm for it. Once he had told me, in North America, "Yes, Manuel, I feel sure it would work. But, if built, it will be temporary. There was a time, two centuries ago, when dirty laundry used to be shipped from California to Hawaii--by sailing ship, mind you--and clean laundry returned. Special circumstances. If we ever see water and manure shipped to Luna and grain shipped back, it will be just as temporary. Luna's future lies in her unique position at the top of a gravity well over a rich planet, and in her cheap power and plentiful real estate. If we Loonies have sense enough in the centuries ahead to remain a free port and to stay out of entangling alliances, we will become the crossroads for two planets, three planets, the entire Solar System. We won't be farmers forever."

They met us at Station East and hardly gave time to get p-suits off--was return from Earthside over again, screaming mobs and being ridden on shoulders. Even girls, for Slim Lemke said to Lenore, "May we carry you, too?"--and Wyoh answered, "Sure, why not?"--and stilyagi fought for chance to.

Most men were pressure-suited and I was surprised to see how many carried guns--until I saw that they were not our guns; they were captured. But most of all what blessed relief to see L-City unhurt!

Could have done without triumphal procession; was itching to get to phone and find out from Mike what had happened--how much damage, how many killed, what this victory cost. But no chance. We were carried to Old Dome willy-nilly.

They shoved us up on a platform with Prof and rest of Cabinet apd vips and such, and our girls slobbered on Prof and he embraced me Latin style, kiss cheek, and somebody stuck a Liberty Cap on me. Spotted little Hazel in crowd and threw her a kiss.

At last they quieted enough for Prof to speak.

"My friends," he said, and waited for silence. "My friends," he repeated softly. "Beloved comrades. We meet at last in freedom and now have with us the heroes who fought the last battle for Luna, alone." They cheered us, again he waited. Could see he was tired; hands trembled as he steadied self against pulpit. "I want them to speak to you, we want to hear about it, all of us.