The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress

26

We hit them so hard you could see it, by bare eyeball hookup; didn't need binox. Chin dropped and I said, "Bojemoi!" softly and reverently. Twelve very bright, very sharp, very white lights in perfect rectangular array. They swelled, grew dimmer, dropped off toward red, taking what seemed a long, long time. Were other new lights but that perfect grid so fascinated me I hardly noticed.

"Yes," agreed Mike with smug satisfaction. "Dead on. You can talk now, Man; I'm not busy. Just the backups."

"I'm speechless. Any fail to get through?"

"The Lake Michigan load was kicked up and sideways, did not disintegrate. It will land in Michigan--I have no control; it lost its transponder. The Long Island Sound one went straight to target. They tried to intercept and failed; I can't say why. Man, I can abort the follow-ups on that one, into the Atlantic and clear of shipping. Shall I? Eleven seconds."

"Uh-- Da! If you can miss shipping."

"I said I could. It's done. But we should tell them we had backups and why we aborted. To make them think."

"Maybe should not have aborted, Mike. Idea was to make them use up interceptors."

"But the major idea was to let them know that we are not hitting them as hard as we can. We can prove the other at Colorado Springs."

"What happened there?" Twisted neck and used binox; could see nothing but ribbon city, hundred-plus kilometers long, Denver-Pueblo Municipal Strip.

"A bull's-eye. No interception. All my shots are bull's-eyes, Man; I told you they would be--and this is fun. I'd like to do it every day. It's a word I never had a referent for before."

"What word, Mike?"

"Orgasm. That's what it is when they all light up. Now I know."

That sobered me. "Mike, don't get to liking it too much. Because if goes our way, won't do it a second time."

"That's okay, Man; I've stored it, I can play it over anytime I want to experience it. But three to one we do it again tomorrow and even money on the next day. Want to bet? An hour's discussion of jokes equated with one hundred Kong dollars."

"Where would you get a hundred dollars?"

He chuckled. "Where do you think money comes from?"

"Uh--forget it. You get that hour free. Shan't tempt you to affect chances."

"I wouldn't cheat, Man, not you. We just hit their defense command again. You may not be able to see it--dust cloud from first one. They get it every twenty minutes now. Come on down and talk; I've turned the job over to my idiot son."

"Is safe?"

"I'm monitoring. Good practice for him, Man; he may have to do it later by himself. He's accurate, just stupid. But he'll do what you tell him to."

"You're calling that computer 'he.' Can talk?"

"Oh, no, Man, he's an idiot, he can never learn to talk. But he'll do whatever you program. I plan to let him handle quite a bit on Saturday."

"Why Saturday?"

"Because Sunday he may have to handle everything. That's the day they slam us."

"What do you mean? Mike, you're holding something back."

"I'm telling you, am I not? It's just happened and I'm scanning it. Projecting back, this blip departed circum-Terra parking orbit just as we smashed them. I didn't see it accelerate; I had other things to watch. It's too far away to read but it's the right size for a Peace cruiser, headed this way. Its doppler reads now for a new orbit circum-Luna, periselenion oh-nine-oh-three Sunday unless it maneuvers. First approximation, better data later. Hard to get that much, Man; he's using radar countermeasures and throwing back fuzz."

"Sure you're right?"

He chuckled. "Man, I don't confuse that easily. I've got all my own lovin' little signals fingerprinted. Correction. Oh-nineoh-two-point-forty-three."

"When will you have him in range?"

"I won't, unless he maneuvers. But he'll have me in range late Saturday, time depending on what range he chooses for launching. And that will produce an interesting situation. He may aim for a warren--I think Tycho Under should be evacuated and all warrens should use maximum pressure-emergency measures. More likely he will try for the catapult. But instead he may hold his fire as long as he dares--then try to knock out all of my radars with a spread set to home each on a different radar beam."

Mike chuckled. "Amusing, isn't it? For a 'funny-once' I mean. If I shut down my radars, his missiles can't home on them. But if I do, I can't see to tell the lads where to point their guns. Which leaves nothing to stop him from bombing the catapult. Comical."

Took deep breath and wished I had never entered defense ministry business. "What do we do? Give up? No, Mike! Not while can fight."

"Who said anything about giving up? I've run projections of this and a thousand other possible situations, Man. New datum--second blimp just departed circum-Terra, same characteristics. Projection later. We don't give up. We give 'em jingle-jangle, cobber."

"How?"

"Leave it to your old friend Mycroft. Six ballistic radars here, plus one at the new site. I've shut the new one down and am making my retarded child work through number two here and we won't look at those ships at all through the new one--never let them know we have it. I'm watching those ships through number three and occasionally--every three seconds--checking for new departures from circum-Terra. All others have their eyes closed tight and I won't use them until time to smack Great China and India--and those ships won't see them even then because I shan't look their way; it's a large angle and still will be then. And when I use them, then comes random jingle-jangle, shutting down and starting up at odd intervals... after the ships launch missiles. A missile can't carry a big brain, Man--I'll fool 'em."

"What about ships' fire-control computers?"

"I'll fool them, too. Want to lay odds I can't make two radars look like only one halfway between where they really are? But what I'm working on now--and sorry!--I've been using your voice again."

"That's okay. What am I supposed to have done?"

"If that admiral is really smart, he'll go after the ejection end of the old catapult with everything he's got--at extreme range, too far away for our drill guns. Whether he knows what our 'secret' weapon is or not, he'll smear the catapult and ignore the radars. So I've ordered the catapult head--you have, I mean--to prepare to launch every load we can get ready, and I am now working out new, long-period trajectories for each of them. Then we will throw them all, get them into space as quickly as possible--without radar."

"Blind?"

"I don't use radar to launch a load; you know that, Man. I always watched them in the past but I don't need to; radar has nothing to do with launching; launching is pre-calculation and exact control of the catapult. So we place all ammo from the old catapult in slow trajectories, which forces the admiral to go after the radars rather than the catapult--or both. Then we'll keep him busy. We may make him so desperate that he'll come down for a close shot and give our lads a chance to burn his eyes."

"Brody's boys would like that. Those who are sober." Was turning over idea. "Mike, have you watched video today?"

"I've monitored video, I can't say I've watched it. Why?"

"Take a look."

"Okay, I have. Why?"

"That's a good 'scope they're using for video and there are others. Why use radar on ships? Till you want Brody's boys to burn them?"

Mike was silent at least two seconds. "Man my best friend, did you ever think of getting a job as a computer?"

"Is sarcasm?"

"Not at all, Man. I feel ashamed. The instruments at Richardson--telescopes and other things--are factors which I simply never included in my calculations. I'm stupid, I admit it. Yes, yes, yes, da, da, da! Watch ships by telescope, don't use radar unless they vary from present ballistics. Other possibilities--I don't know what to say, Man, save that it had never occurred to me that I could use telescopes. I see by radar, always have; I simply never consid--"

"Stow it!"

"I mean it, Man."

"Do I apologize when you think of something first?"

Mike said slowly, "There is something about that which I am finding resistant to analysis. It is my function to--"

"Quit fretting. If idea is good, use it. May lead to more ideas. Switching off and coming down, chop-chop."

Had not been in Mike's room long when Prof phoned:

"HQ? Have you heard from Field Marshal Davis?"

"I'm here, Prof. Master computer room."

"Will you join us in the Warden's office? There are decisions to reach, work to be done."

"Prof, I've been working! Am working."

"I'm sure you have. I've explained to the others that the programming of the ballistic computer is so very delicate in this operation that you must check it personally. Nevertheless some of our colleagues feel that the Minister of Defense should be present during these discussions. So, when you reach a point where you feel you can turn it over to your assistant--Mike is his name, is it not?--will you please--"

"I scan it. Okay, will be up."

"Very well, Manuel."

Mike said, "I could hear thirteen people in the background. Doubletalk, Man."

"I got it. Better go up and see what huhu. You don't need me?"

"Man, I hope you will stay close to a phone."

"Will. Keep an ear on Warden's office. But will punch in if elsewhere. See you, cobber."

Found entire government in Warden's office, both real Cabinet and make-weights--and soon spotted trouble, bloke called Howard Wright. A ministry had been whomped up for him: "Liaison for Arts, Sciences, and Professions"--buttonsorting. Was sop to Novylen because Cabinet was topheavy with L-City comrades, and a sop to Wright because he had made himself leader of a Congress group long on talk, short on action. Prof's purpose was to short him out--but sometimes Prof was too subtle; some people talk better if they breathe vacuum.

Prof asked me to brief Cabinet on military situation. Which I did--my way. "I see Finn is here. Let's have him tell where we stand in warrens."

Wright spoke up. "General Nielsen has already done so, no need to repeat. We want to hear from you."

Blinked at that. "Prof-- Excuse me. Gospodin President. Do I understand that a Defense Ministry report has been made to Cabinet in my absence?"

Wright said, "Why not? You weren't on hand."

Prof grabbed it. He could see I was stretched too tight. Hadn't slept much for three days, hadn't been so tired since left Earthside. "Order," he said mildly. "Gospodin Minister for Professional Liaison, please address your comments through me. Gospodin Minister for Defense, let me correct that. There have been no reports to the Cabinet concerning your ministry for the reason that the Cabinet did not convene until you arrived. General Nielsen answered some informal questions informally. Perhaps this should not have been done. If you feel so, I will attempt to repair it."

"No harm done, I guess. Finn talked to you a half hour ago. Anything new since?"

"No, Mannie."

"Okay. Guess what you want to hear is off-Luna situation. You've been watching so you know first bombardment went off well. Still going on, some, as we're hitting their space defense HQ every twenty minutes. Will continue till thirteen hundred, then at twenty-one hundred we hit China and India, plus minor targets. Then busy till four hours past midnight with Africa and Europe, skip three hours, dose Brasil and company, wait three hours and start over. Unless something breaks. But meantime we have problems here. Finn, we should evacuate Tycho Under."

"Just a moment!" Wright had hand up. "I have questions." Spoke to Prof, not to me.

"One moment. Has the Defense Minister finished?"

Wyoh was seated toward back. We had swapped smiles, but was all--kept it so around Cabinet and Congress; had been rumbles that two from same family should not be in Cabinet. Now she shook head, warning of something. I said, "Is all conceniing bombardment. Questions about it?"

"Are your questions concerned with the bombardment, Gospodin Wright?"

"They certainly are, Gospodin President." Wright stood up, looked at me. "As you know, I represent the intellectual groups in the Free State and, if I may say so, their opinions are most important in public affairs. I think it is only proper that--"

"Moment," I said. "Thought you represented Eighth Novylen District?"

"Gospodin President! Am I to be permitted to put my questions? Or not?"

"He wasn't asking question, was making speech. And I'm tired and want to go to bed."

Prof said gently, "We are all tired, Manuel. But your point is well taken. Congressman, you represent only your district. As a member of the government you have been assigned certain duties in connection with certain professions."

"It comes to the same thing."

"Not quite. Please state your question."

"Uh... very well, I shall! Is Field Marshal Davis aware that his bombardment plan has gone wrong completely and that thousands of lives have been pointlessly destroyed? And is he aware of the extremely serious view taken of this by the intelligentsia of this Republic? And can he explain why this rash--I repeat, rash!--bombardment was undertaken without consultation? And is he now prepared to modify his plans, or is he going blindly ahead? And is it true as charged that our missiles were of the nuclear sort outlawed by all civilized nations? And how does he expect Luna Free State ever to be welcomed into the councils of civilized nations in view of such actions?"

I looked at watch--hour and a half since first load hit. "Prof," I said, "can you tell me what this is about?"

"Sorry, Manuel," he said gently. "I intended--I should have--prefaced the meeting with an item from the news. But you seemed to feel that you had been bypassed and--well, I did not. The Minister refers to a news dispatch that came in just before I called you. Reuters in Toronto. If the flash is correct--then instead of taking our warnings it seems that thousands of sightseers crowded to the targets. There probably have been casualties. How many we do not know."

"I see. What was I supposed to do? Take each one by hand and lead away? We warned them."

Wright cut in with, "The intelligentsia feel that basic humanitarian considerations make it obligatory--"

I said, "Listen, yammerhead, you heard President say this news just came in--so how do you know how anybody feels about it?"

He turned red. "Gospodin President! Epithets! Personalities!"

"Don't call the Minister names, Manuel."

"Won't if he won't. He's simply using fancier words. What's that nonsense about nuclear bombs? We haven't any and you all know it."

Prof looked puzzled. "I am confused by that, too. This dispatch so alleged. But the thing that puzzled me is that we could actually see, by video, what certainly seemed to be atomic explosions."

"Oh." I turned to Wright. "Did your brainy friends tell you what happens when you release a few billion calories in a split second all at one spot? What temperature? How much radiance?"

"Then you admit that you did use atomic weapons!"

"Oh, Bog!" Head was aching. "Said nothing of sort. Hit anything hard enough, strike sparks. Elementary physics, known to everybody but intelligentsia. We just struck damnedest big sparks ever made by human agency, is all. Big flash. Heat, light, ultraviolet. Might even produce X-rays, couldn't say. Gamma radiation I strongly doubt. Alpha and beta, impossible. Was sudden release of mechanical energy. But nuclear? Nonsense!"

Prof said, "Does that answer your questions, Mr. Minister?"

"It simply raises more questions. For example, this bombardment is far beyond anything the Cabinet authorized. You saw the shocked faces when those terrible lights appeared on the screen. Yet the Minister of Defense says that it is even now continuing, every twenty minutes. I think--"

Glanced at watch. "Another just hit Cheyenne Mountain."

Wright said, "You hear that? You hear? He boasts of it. Gospodin President, this carnage must stop!"

I said, "Yammer-- Minister, are you suggesting that their space defense HQ is not a military target? Which side are you on? Luna's? Or F.N.?"

"Manuel!"

"Tired of this nonsense! Was told to do job, did it. Get this yammerhead off my back!"

Was shocked silence, then somebody said quietly, "May I make a suggestion?"

Prof looked around. "If anyone has a suggestion that will quiet this unseemliness, I will be most happy to hear it."

"Apparently we don't have very good information as to what these bombs are doing. It seems to me that we ought to slow up that twenty-minute schedule. Stretch it out, say to one every hour--and skip the next two hours while we get more news. Then we might want to postpone the attack on great China at least twenty-four hours."

Were approving nods from almost everybody and murmurs: "Sensible idea!"--"Da. Let's not rush things." Prof said, "Manuel?"

I snapped, "Prof, you know answer! Don't shove it on me!"

"Perhaps I do, Manuel... but I'm tired and confused and can't remember it."

Wyoh said suddenly, "Mannie, explain it. I need it explained, too."

So pulled self together. "A simple matter of law of gravitation. Would have to use computer to give exact answer but next half dozen shots are fully committed. Most we can do is push them off target--and maybe hit some town we haven't warned. Can't dump them into an ocean, is too late; Cheyenne Mountain is fourteen hundred kilometers inland. As for stretching schedule to once an hour, that's silly. Aren't tube capsules you start and stop; these are falling rocks. Going to hit somewhere every twenty minutes. You can hit Cheyenne Mountain which hasn't anything alive left on it by now--or can hit somewhere else and kill people. Idea of delaying strike on Great China by twenty-four hours is just as silly. Can abort missiles for Great China for a while yet. But can't slow them up. If you abort, you waste them--and everybody who thinks we have steel casings to waste had better go up to catapult head and look."

Prof wiped brow. "I think all questions have been answered, at least to my satisfaction."

"Not to mine, sir!"

"Sit down, Gospodin Wright. You force me to remind you that your ministry is not part of the War Cabinet. If there are no more questions--I hope there are none--I will adjourn this meeting. We all need rest. So let us--"

"Prof!"

"Yes, Manuel?"

"You never let me finish reporting. Late tomorrow or early Sunday we catch it."

"How, Manuel?"

"Bombing. Invasion possible. Two cruisers headed this way."

That got attention. Presently Prof said tiredly, "The Government Cabinet is adjourned. The War Cabinet will remain."

"Just a second," I said. "Prof, when we took office, you got undated resignations from us."

"True. I hope not to have to use any of them, however."

"You're about to use one."

"Manuel, is that a threat?"

"Call it what you like." I pointed at Wright. "Either that yammerhead goes... or I go."

"Manuel, you need sleep."

Was blinking back tears. "Certainly do! And going to get some. Right now! Going to find a doss here at Complex and get some. About ten hours. After that, if am still Minister of Defense, you can wake me. Otherwise let me sleep."

By now everybody was looking shocked. Wyoh came up and stood by me. Didn't speak, just slipped hand into my arm.

Prof said firmly, "All please leave save the War Cabinet and Gospodin Wright." He waited while most filed out. Then said, "Manuel, I can't accept your resignation. Nor can I let you chivvy me into hasty action concerning Gospodin Wright, not when we are tired and overwrought. It would be better if you two were to exchange apologies, each realizing that the other has been overstrained."

"Uh--" I turned to Finn. "Has he been fighting?" I indicated Wright.

"Huh? Hell, no. At least he's not in my outfits. How about it, Wright? Did you fight when they invaded us?'

Wright said stiffly, "I had no opportunity. By the time I knew of it, it was over. But now both my bravery and my loyalty have been impugned. I shall insist--"

"Oh, shut up," I said. "If duel is what you want, can have it first moment I'm not busy. Prof, since he doesn't have strain of fighting as excuse for behavior, I won't apologize to a yammerhead for being a yammerhead. And you don't seem to understand issue. You let this yammerhead climb on my back--and didn't even try to stop him! So either fire him, or fire me."

Finn said suddenly, "I match that, Prof. Either fire this louse--or fire us both." He looked at Wright. "About that duel, choom--you're going to fight me first. You've got two arms--Mannie hasn't."

"Don't need two arms for him. But thanks, Finn."

Wyoh was crying--could feel it though couldn't hear it. Prof said to her most sadly, "Wyoming?"

"I'm s-s-sorry, Prof! Me, too."

Only "Clayton" Watenabe, Judge Brody, Wolfgang, Stu, and Sheenie were left, handful who counted--War Cabinet. Prof looked at them; I could see they were with me, though it cost Wolfgang an effort; he worked with Prof. not with me.

Prof looked back at me and said softly, "Manuel, it works both ways. What you are doing is forcing me to resign." He looked around. "Goodnight, comrades. Or rather, 'Good morning.' I'm going to get some badly needed rest." He walked briskly out without looking back.

Wright was gone; I didn't see him leave. Finn said, "What about these cruisers, Mannie?"

I took deep breath. "Nothing earlier than Saturday afternoon. But you ought to evacuate Tycho Under. Can't talk now. Groggy."

Agreed to meet him there at twenty-one hundred, then let Wyoh lead me away. Think she put me to bed but don't remember.