The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress

19

Took Stu all day to get case transferred to an F.N. court and dismissed. His lawyers asked to have it tossed out on "diplomatic immunity" but F.N. judges did not fall into trap, merely noted that alleged offenses had taken place outside jurisdiction of lower court, except alleged "inciting" concerning which they found insufficient evidence. Aren't any F.N. laws covering marriage; can't be--just a rule about each nation required to give "full faith and credence" to marriage customs of other member nations.

Out of those eleven billion people perhaps seven billion lived where polygamy is legal, and Stu's opinion manipulators played up "persecution"; it gained us sympathy from people who otherwise would never have heard of us--even gained it in North America and other places where polygamy is not legal, from people who believe in "live and let live." All good, because always problem was to be noticed. To most of those bee-swarm billions Luna was nothing; our rebellion hadn't been noticed.

Stu's operators had gone to much thought to plan setup to get me arrested. Was not told until weeks later after time to cool off and see benefits. Took a stupid judge, a dishonest sheriff, and barbaric local prejudice which I triggered with that sweet picture, for Stu admitted later that range of color in Davis family was what got judge angry enough to be foolish even beyond native talent for nonsense.

My one consolation, that Mum could not see my disgrace, turned out mistaken; pictures, taken through bars and showing grim face, were in every Luna paper, and write-ups used nastiest Earthside stories, not larger number that deplored injustice. But should have had more faith in Mimi; she wasn't ashamed, simply wanted to go Earthside and rip some people to pieces.

While helped Earthside, greatest good was in Luna. Loonies become more unified over this silly huhu than had ever been before. They took it personally and "Adam Selene" and "Simon Jester" pushed it. Loonies are easygoing except on one subject, women. Every lady felt insulted by Terran news stories--so male Loonies who had ignored politics suddenly discovered I was their boy.

Spin-off--old lags feel superior to those not transported. Later found self greeted by ex-cons with: "Hi, jailbird!" A lodge greeting--I was accepted.

But saw nothing good about it then! Pushed around, treated like cattle, fingerprinted, photographed, given food we wouldn't offer hogs, exposed to endless indignity, and only that heavy field kept me from trying to kill somebody--had I been wearing number-six arm when grabbed, might have tried.

But steadied down once I was freed. Hour later we were on way to Agra; had at last been summoned by committee. Felt good to be back in suite in maharajah's palace but eleven-hour zone change in less than three did not permit rest; we went to hearing bleary-eyed and held together by drugs.

"Hearing" was one-sided; we listened while chairman talked. Talked an hour; I'll summarize:

Our preposterous claims were rejected. Lunar Authority's sacred trust could not be abandoned. Disorders on Earth's Moon could not be tolerated. Moreover, recent disorders showed that Authority had been too lenient. Omission was now to be corrected by an activist program, a five-year plan in which all phases of life in Authority's trusteeship would be overhauled. A code of laws was being drafted; civil and criminal courts would be instituted for benefit of "client-employees"--which meant all persons in trust area, not just consignees with uncompleted sentences. Public schools would be established, plus indoctrinal adult schools for client-employees in need of same. An economic, engineering, and agricultural planning board would be created to provide fullest and most efficient use of Moon's resources and labor of client-employees. An interim goal of quadrupling grain shipments in five years had been adopted as a figure easily obtainable once scientific planning of resources and labor was in effect. First phase would be to withdraw client-employees from occupations found not to be productive and put them to drilling a vast new system of farm tunnels in order that hydroponics would commence in them not later than March 2078. These new giant farms would be operated by Lunar Authority, scientifically, and not left to whims of private owners. It was contemplated that this system would, by end of five-year plan, produce entire new grain quota; in meantime client-employees producing grain privately would be allowed to continue. But they would be absorbed into new system as their less efficient methods were no longer needed.

Chairman looked up from papers. "In short, the Lunar colonies are going to be civilized and brought into managerial coordination with the rest of civilization. Distasteful as this task has been, I feel--speaking as a citizen rather than as chairman of this committee--I feel that we owe you thanks for bringing to our attention a situation so badly in need of correction."

Was ready to burn his ears off. "Client-employees!" What a fancy way to say "slaves"! But Prof said tranquilly, "I find the proposed plans most interesting. Is one permitted to ask questions? Purely for information?"

"For information, yes."

North American member leaned forward. "But don't assume that we are going to take any backtalk from you cavemen! So mind your manners. You aren't in the clear on this, you know."

"Order," chairman said. "Proceed, Professor."

"This term 'client-employee' I find intriguing. Can it be stipulated that the majority of inhabitants of Earth's major satellite are not undischarged consignees but free individuals?"

"Certainly," chairman agreed blandly. "All legal aspects of the new policy have been studied. With minor exceptions some ninety-one percent of the colonists have citizenship, original or derived, in various member nations of the Federated Nations. Those who wish to return to their home countries have a right to do so. You will be pleased to learn that the Authority is considering a plan under which loans for transportation can be arranged... probably under supervision of International Red Cross and Crescent. I might add that I myself am heartily backing this plan--as it renders nonsensical any talk about 'slave labor.'" He smiled smugly.

"I see," agreed Prof. "Most humane. Has the committee--or the Authority--pondered the fact that most--effectively all, I should say--considered the fact that inhabitants of Luna are physically unable to live on this planet? That they have undergone involuntary permanent exile through irreversible physiological changes and can never again live in comfort and health in a gravitational field six times greater than that to which their bodies have become adjusted?"

Scoundrel pursed lips as if considering totally new idea. "Speaking again for myself, I would not be prepared to stipulate that what you say is necessarily true. It might be true of some, might not be others; people vary widely. Your presence here proves that it is not impossible for a Lunar inhabitant to return to Earth. In any case we have no intention of forcing anyone to return. We hope that they will choose to stay and we hope to encourage others to emigrate to the Moon. But these are individual choices, under the freedoms guaranteed by the Great Charter. But as to this alleged physiological phenomenon--it is not a legal matter. If anyone deems it prudent, or thinks he would be happier, to stay on the Moon, that's his privilege."

"I see, sir. We are free. Free to remain in Luna and work, at tasks and for wages set by you... or free to return to Earth to die."

Chairman shrugged. "You assume that we are villians--we're not. Why, if I were a young man I would emigrate to the Moon myself. Great opportunities! In any case I am not troubled by your distortions--history will justify us."

Was surprised at Prof; he was not fighting. Worried about him--weeks of strain and a bad night on top. All he said was, "Honorable Chairman, I assume that shipping to Luna will soon be resumed. Can passage be arranged for my colleague and myself in the first ship? For I must admit, sir, that this gravitational weakness of which I spoke is, in our cases, very real. Our mission is completed; we need to go home."

(Not a word about grain barges. Nor about "throwing rocks," nor even futility of beating a cow. Prof just sounded tired.)

Chairman leaned forward and spoke with grim satisfaction. "Professor, that presents difficulties. To put it bluntly, you appear to be guilty of treason against the Great Charter, indeed against all humanity... and an indictment is being considered. I doubt if anything more than a suspended sentence would be invoked against a man of your age and physical condition, however. Do you think it would be prudent of us to give you passage back to the place where you committed these acts--there to stir up more mischief?"

Prof sighed. "I understand your point. Then, sir, may I be excused? I am weary."

"Certainly. Hold yourself at the disposal of this committee. The hearing stands adjourned. Colonel Davis--"

"Sir?" I was directing wheel chair around, to get Prof out at once; our attendants had been sent outside.

"A word with you, please. In my office."

"Uh--" Looked at Prof; eyes were closed and seemed unconscious. But he moved one finger, motioning me to him. "HonorabIe Chairman, I'm more nurse than diplomat; have to look after him. He's an old man, he's ill."

"The attendants will take care of him."

"Well..." Got as close to Prof as I could from chair, leaned over him. "Prof, are you right?"

He barely whispered. "See what he wants. Agree with him. But stall."

Moments later was alone with chairman, soundproof door locked--meant nothing; room could have a dozen ears, plus one in my left arm.

He said, "A drink? Coffee?"

I answered, "No, thank you, sir. Have to watch my diet here."

"I suppose so. Are you really limited to that chair? You look healthy."

I said, "I could, if had to, get up and walk across room. Might faint. Or worse. Prefer not to risk. Weigh six times what I should. Heart's not used to it."

"I suppose so. Colonel, I hear you had some silly trouble in North America. I'm sorry, I truly am. Barbaric place. Always hate to have to go there. I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to see you."

"No, sir, assume you'll tell when suits you. Instead was wondering why you still call me 'Colonel.'"

He gave a barking laugh. "Habit, I suppose. A lifetime of protocol. Yet it might be well for you to continue with that title. Tell me, what do you think of our five-year plan?"

Thought it stunk. "Seems to have been carefully thought out."

"Much thought went into it. Colonel, you seem to be a sensible man-- I know you are, I know not only your background but practically every word you've spoken, almost your thoughts, ever since you set foot on Earth. You were born on the Moon. Do you regard yourself as a patriot? Of the Moon?"

"Suppose so. Though tend to think of what we did just as something that had to be done."

"Between ourselves--yes. That old fool Hobart. Colonel, that is a good plan... but lacks an executive. If you are really a patriot or let's say a practical man with your country's best interests at heart, you might be the man to carry it out." He held up hand. "Don't be hasty! I'm not asking you to sell out, turn traitor, or any nonsense like that. This is your chance to be a real patriot--not some phony hero who gets himself killed in a lost cause. Put it this way. Do you think it is possible for the Lunar colonies to hold out against all the force that the Federated Nations of Earth can bring to bear? You're not really a military man, I know--and I'm glad you're not--but you are a technical man, and I know that, too. In your honest estimation, how many ships and bombs do you think it would take to destroy the Lunar colonies?"

I answered, "One ship, six bombs."

"Correct! My God, it's good to talk to a sensible man. Two of them would have to be awf'ly big, perhaps specially built. A few people would stay alive, for a while, in smaller warrens beyond the blast areas. But one ship would do it, in ten minutes."

I said, "Conceded, sir, but Professor de la Paz pointed out that you don't get milk by beating a cow. And certainly can't by shooting it."

"Why do you think we've held back, done nothing, for over a month? That idiot colleague of mine--I won't name him--spoke of 'backtalk.' Backtalk doesn't fret me; it's just talk and I'm interested in results. No, my dear Colonel, we won't shoot the cow... but we would, if forced to, let the cow know that it could be shot. H-missiles are expensive toys but we could afford to expend some as warning shots, wasted on bare rock to let the cow know what could happen. But that is more force than one likes to use--it might frighten the cow and sour its milk." He gave another barking laugh. "Better to persuade old bossy to give down willingly."

I waited. "Don't you want to know how?" he asked.

"How?" I agreed.

"Through you. Don't say a word and let me explain--"

He took me up on that high mountain and offered me kingdoms of Earth. Or of Luna. Take job of "Protector Pro Tem" with understanding was mine permanently if I could deliver. Convince Loonies they could not win. Convince them that this new setup was to their advantage--emphasize benefits, free schools, free hospitals, free this and that--details later but an everywhere government just like on Terra. Taxes starting low and handled painlessly by automatic checkoff and through kickback revenues from grain shipments. But, most important, this time Authority would not send a boy to do a man's job--two regiments of police at once.

"Those damned Peace Dragoons were a mistake," he said, "one we won't make again. Between ourselves, the reason it has taken us a month to work this out is that we had to convince the Peace Control Commission that a handful of men cannot police three million people spread through six largish warrens and fifty and more small ones. So you'll start with enough police--not combat troops but military police used to quelling civilians with a minimum of fuss. Besides that, this time they'll have female auxiliaries, the standard ten per cent-no more rape complaints. Well, sir? Think you can swing it? Knowing it's best in the long run for your own people?"

I said I ought to study it in detail, particularly plans and quotas for five-year plan, rather than make snap decision.

~Certainly, certainly!" he agreed. "I'll give you a copy of the white paper we've made up; take it home, study it, sleep on it. Tomorrow we'll talk again. Just give me your word as a gentleman to keep it under your hair. No secret, really... but these things are best settled before they are publicized. Speaking of publicity, you'll need help--and you'll get it. We'll go to the expense of sending up topnotch men, pay them what it's worth, have them centrifuge the way those scientists do--you know. This time we're doing it right. That fool Hobart--he's actually dead, isn't he?"

"No, sir. Senile, however."

"Should have killed him, Here's your copy of the plan."

"Sir? Speaking of old men-- Professor de la Paz can't stay here. Wouldn't live six months."

"That's best, isn't it?"

I tried to answer levelly, "You don't understand. He is greatly loved and respected. Best thing would be for me to convince him that you mean business with those H-missiles--and that it is his patriotic duty to salvage what we can. But, either way, if I return without him. .. well, not only could not swing it; wouldn't live long enough to try."

"Hmm-- Sleep on it. We'll talk tomorrow. Say fourteen o'clock."

I left and as soon as was loaded into lorry gave way to shakes. Just don't have high-level approach.

Stu was waiting with Prof. "Well?" said Prof.

I glanced around, tapped ear. We huddled, heads over Prof's head and two blankets over us all. Stretcher wagon was clean and so was my chair; I checked them each morning. But for room itself seemed safer to whisper under blankets.

Started in. Prof stopped me. "Discuss his ancestry and habits later. The facts."

"He offered me job of Warden."

"I trust you accepted."

"Ninety percent. I'm to study this garbage and give answer tomorrow. Stu, how fast can we execute Plan Scoot?"

"Started. We were waiting for you to return. If they let you return."

Next fifty minutes were busy. Stu produced a gaunt Hindu in a dhoti; in thirty minutes he was a twin of Prof, and lifted Prof off wagon onto a divan. Duplicating me was easier. Our doubles were wheeled into suite's living room just at dusk and dinner was brought in. Several people came and went --among them elderly Hindu woman in sari, on arm of Stuart LaJoie. A plump babu followed them.

Getting Prof up steps to roof was worst; he had never worn powered walkers, had no chance to practice, and had been flat on back for more than a month.

But Stu's arm kept him steady; I gritted teeth and climbed those thirteen terrible steps by myself. By time I reached roof, heart was ready to burst. Was put to it not to black out. A silent little flitter craft came out of gloom right on schedule and ten minutes later we were in chartered ship we had used past month--two minutes after that we jetted for Australia. Don't know what it cost to prepare this dance and keep it ready against need, but was no hitch.

Stretched out by Prof and caught breath, then said, "How you feel, Prof?"

"Okay. A bit tired. Frustrated."

"Ja da. Frustrated."

"Over not seeing the Taj Mahal, I mean. I never had opportunity as a young man--and here I've been within a kilometer of it twice, once for several days, now for another day... and still I haven't seen it and never shall."

"Just a tomb."

"And Helen of Troy was just a woman. Sleep, lad." We landed in Chinee half of Australia, place called Darwin, and were carried straight into a ship, placed in acceleration couches and dosed. Prof was already out and I was beginning to feel dopy when Stu came in, grinned, and strapped down by us. I looked at him. "You, too? Who's minding shop?"

"The same people who've been doing the real work all along. It's a good setup and doesn't need me any longer. Mannie old cobber, I did not want to be marooned a long way from home. Luna, I mean, in case you have doubts. This looks like the last train from Shanghai."

"What's Shanghai got to do with?"

"Forget I mentioned it. Mannie, I'm flat broke, concave. I owe money in all directions--debts that will be paid only if certain stocks move the way Adam Selene convinced me they would move, shortly after this point in history. And I'm wanted, or will be, for offenses against the public peace and dignity. Put it this way. I'm saving them the trouble of transporting me. Do you think I can learn to be a drillman at my age?"

Was feeling foggy, drug taking hold. "Stu, in Luna y'aren't old... barely started... 'nyway...eat our table f'ever! Mimi likes you."

"Thanks, cobber, I might. Warning light! Deep breath!"

Suddenly was kicked by ten gee.