The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress

"Not just 'fairly well,' I've got it whipped. But the last two ships have carried Authority vips and I don't know what they talk about away from phones!"

So we tried to plan to cover possibility of having to cope with ten more phalanges, that being Mike's estimate of what cubic being cleared would hold. We could deal with that many--with Mike's help--but it would mean deaths, not bloodless coup d'etat Prof had pla

And we increased efforts to speed up other factors.

When suddenly we found ourselves committed--

13

Her name was Marie Lyons; she was eighteen years old and born in Luna, mother having been exiled via Peace Corps in '56. No record of father. She seems to have been a harmless person. Worked as a stock-control clerk in shipping department, lived in Complex.

Maybe she hated Authority and enjoyed teasing Peace Dragoons. Or perhaps it started as a commercial transaction as cold-blooded as any in a crib behind a slot-machine lock. How can we know? Six Dragoons were in it. Not satisfied with raping her (if rape it was) they abused her other ways and killed her. But they did not dispose of body neatly; another civil service fem found it before was cold. She screamed. Was her last scream.

We heard about it at once; Mike called us three while Alvarez and Peace Dragoon C.O. were digging into matter in Alvarez's office. Appears that Peace Goon boss had no trouble laying hands on guilty; he and Alvarez were questioning them one at a time, and quarreling between grillings. Once we heard Alvarez say: "I told you those goons of yours had to have their own women! I warned you!"

"Stuff it," Dragoon officer answered. "I've told you time and again they won't ship any. The question now is how we hush this up."

"Are you crazy? Warden already knows."

"It's still the question."

"Oh, shut up and send in the next one."

Early in filthy story Wyoh joined me in workshop. Was pale under makeup, said nothing but wanted to sit close and clench my hand.

At last was over and Dragoon officer left Alvarez. Were still quarreling. Alvarez wanted those six executed at once and fact made public (sensible but not nearly enough, for his needs); C.O. was still talking about "hushing it up." Prof said, "Mike, keep an ear there and listen where else you can. Well, Mike? Wyoh? Plans?"

I didn't have any. Wasn't a cold, shrewd revolutionist; just wanted to get my heel into faces that matched those six voices. "I don't know. What do we do, Prof?"

"'Do'? We're on our tiger; we grab its ears. Mike. Where's Fi

Mike answered, "He's calling now." He cut Fi

"I'm here, Fi

"Da! Okay, Adam?"

"Do as Prof says. Then call back."

"Hold it, Fi

"You haven't practiced, Ma

"If it's a laser, I can use it!"

"Ma

Prof's example damped my oscillating. Had forgotten that Fi

"No, just follow Alert Four. No Earthside transmission either way that tips any news. If one comes in, hold it and consult." Alert Four was emergency communication doctrine, intended to slap censorship on news to Terra without arousing suspicion. For this Mike was ready to talk in many voices with excuses as to why a direct voice transmission would be delayed--and any taped transmission was no problem.

"Program ru

"Good. Ma

"Right away, Prof!"

"Wait. As soon as you've told Sidris, get moving on your stilyagi. I want a riot at the Authority's city office--break in, wreck the place, and noise and shouting and destruction--no one hurt if it can be helped. Mike. Alert-Four-Em. Cut off the Complex except for your own lines."

"Prof!" I demanded. "What sense in starting riots here?"

"Ma

"Not that I've heard. I'm listening here and there with random jumps. Tube stations are quiet except Luna City. Fighting has just started at Tube Station West. Want to hear it?"

"Not now. Ma

"I'll try."

I hurried to Tube Station West, slowed as I neared it. Corridors were full of angry people. City roared in way I had never heard before and, as I crossed Causeway, could hear shouts and crowd noise from direction of Authority's city office although it seemed to me there had not been time for Wyoh to reach her stilyagi--nor had there been; what Prof had tried to start was under way spontaneously.

Station was mobbed and I had to push through to see what I assumed to be certain, that passport guards were either dead or fled. 'Dead' it turned out, along with three Loonies. One was a boy not more than thirteen. He had died with his hands on a Dragoon's throat and his head still sporting a little red cap. I pushed way to a public phone and reported.

"Go back," said Prof. "and read the I.D. of one of those guards. I want name and rank. Have you seen Fi

"No."

"He's headed there with three guns. Tell me where the booth you're in is, get that name and come back to it."

One body was gone, dragged away; Bog knows what they wanted with it. Other had been badly battered but I managed to crowd in and snatch dog chain from neck before it, too, was taken somewhere. I elbowed back to phone, found a woman at it. "Lady," I said, "I've got to use that phone. Emergency!"

"You're welcome to it! Pesky thing's out of order."

Worked for me; Mike bad saved it. Gave Prof guard's name. "Good," he said. "Have you seen Fi

"Haven't s-- Hold it, just spotted him."

"Okay, hang onto him. Mike, do you have a voice to fit that Dragoon's name?"

"Sorry, Prof. No."

"All right, just make it hoarse and frightened; chances are the C.O. won't know it that well. Or would the trooper call Alvarez?"

"He would call his C.O. Alvarez gives orders through him."

"So call the C.O. Report the attack and call for help and die in the middle of it. Riot sounds behind you and maybe a shout of 'There's the dirty bastard now!' just before you die. Can you swing it?"