The Moon is a Harsh Mistress (40 page)

But
big problem was men. Wasn’t money, we kept upping wages. No, a drillman
likes to work or wouldn’t be in that trade. Standing by in a ready room
day after day, waiting for alert that always turns out to be just another
practice—drove ‘em crackers. They quit. One day in September I
pulled an alert and got only seven drills manned.

Talked
it over with Wyoh and Sidris that night. Next day Wyoh wanted to know if Prof
and I would okay bolshoi expense money? They formed something Wyoh named
“Lysistrata Corps.” Never inquired into duties or cost, because
next time I inspected a ready room found three girls and no shortge of
drillmen. Girls were in uniform of Second Defense Gunners just as men were
(drillmen hadn’t bothered much with authorized uniform up to then) and
one girl was wearing sargeant’s stripes with gun captain’s badge.

I
made that inspection very short. Most girls don’t have muscle to be a
drillman and I doubted if this girl could wrestle a drill well enough to
justify that badge. But regular gun captain was on job, was no harm in girls
learning to handle lasers, morale was obviously high; I gave matter no more
worry.

Prof
underrated his new Congress. Am sure he never wanted anything but a body which
would rubberchop what we were doing and thereby do make it “voice of
people.” But fact that new Congressmen were not yammerheads resulted in
them doing more than Prof intended. Especially Committee on Permanent
Organization, Resolutions, and Government Structure.

Got
out of hand because we were all trying to do too much. Permanent heads of
Congress were Prof, Finn Nielsen. and Wyoh. Prof showed up only when he wanted
to speak to them—seldom. He spent time with Mike on plans and analysis
(odds shortened to one in five during September ‘76), time with Stu and
Sheenie Sheehan on propaganda, controlling official news to Earthside, very
different “news” that went via “clandestine” radio, and
reslanting news that came up from Earthside. Besides that he had finger in
everything; I reported whim once a day, and all ministries both real and dummy
did same.

I
kept Finn Nielsen busy; he was my “Commander of Armed Forces.” He
had his laser gun infantry to supervise—six men with captured weapons on
day we nabbed warden, now eight hundred scattered all through Luna and armed
with Kongville monkey copies. Besides that, Wyoh’s organizations,
Stilyagi Air Corps, Stilyagi Debs, Ladies from Hades, Irregulars (kept for
morale and renamed Peter Pan’s Pirates), and Lysistrata Corps—all
these halfway-military groups reported through Wyoh to Finn. I shoved it onto
him; I had other problems, such as trying to be a computer mechanic as well as
a “statesman” when jobs such as installing that computer at new
catapult site had to be done.

Besides
which, I am not an executive and Finn had talent for it. I shoved First and
Second Defense Gunners under him, too. But first I decided that these two
skeleton regiments were a “brigade” and made Judge Brody a
“brigadier.” Brody knew as much about military matters as I
did—zero—but was widely known, highly respected, had unlimited hard
sense—and had been drillman before he lost leg. Finn was not drillman, so
couldn’t be placed directly over them; They wouldn’t have listened.
I thought about using my co-husband Greg. But Greg was needed at
Mare
Undarum
catapult, was only mechanic who had followed every phase of
construction.

Wyoh
helped Prof, helped Stu, had her own organizations, I made trips out to
Mare
Undarum
—and had little time to preside over Congress; task fell on
senior committee chairman, Wolf Korsakov … who was busier than any of us;
LuNoHoCo was running everything Authority used to run and many new things as
well.

Wolf
had a good committee; Prof should have kept closer eye on it. Wolf had caused
his boss, Moshai Baum, to be elected vice-chairman and had in all seriousness
outlined for his committee problem of determining what permanent government
should be. Then Wolf had turned back on it.

Those
busy laddies split up and did it—studied forms of government in Carnegie
Library, held subcommittee meetings, three or four people at a time (few enough
to worry Prof had he known)—and when Congress met early in September to
ratify some appointments and elect more congressmen-at-large, instead of
adjourning, Comrade Baum had gavel and they recessed—and met again and
turned selves into committee-of-the-whole and passed a resolution and next
thing we knew entire Congress was a Constitutional Convention divided into
working groups headed by those subcommittees.

I
think Prof was shocked. But he couldn’t undo it, had all been proper
under rules he himself had written. But he rolled with punch, went to Novylen
(where Congress now met—more central) and spoke to them with usual good
nature and simply cast doubts on what they were doing rather than telling them
flatly they were wrong.

After
gracefully thanking them he started picking early drafts to pieces:

“Comrade
Members, like fire and fusion, government is a dangerous servant and a terrible
master. You now have freedom—if you can keep it. But do remember that you
can lose this freedom more quickly to yourselves than to any other tyrant. Move
slowly, be hesitant, puzzle out the consequences of every word. I would not be
unhappy if this convention sat for ten years before reporting—but I would
be frightened if you took less than a year.

“Distrust
the obvious, suspect the traditional … for in the past mankind has not
done well when saddling itself with governments. For example, I note in one
draft report a proposal for setting up a commission to divide Luna into
congressional districts and to reapportion them from time to time according to
population.

“This
is the traditional way; therefore it should be suspect, considered guilty until
proved innocent. Perhaps you feel that this is the only way. May I suggest
others? Surely where a man lives is the least important thing about him.
Constituencies might be formed by dividing people by occupation … or by
age … or even alphabetically. Or they might not be divided, every member
elected at large—and do not object that this would make it impossible for
any man not widely known throughout Luna to be elected; that might be the best
possible thing for Luna.

“You
might even consider installing the candidates who receive the least number of
votes; unpopular men may be just the sort to save you from a new tyranny.
Don’t reject the idea merely because it seems preposterous—think
about it! In past history popularly elected governments have been no better and
sometimes far worse than overt tyrannies.

“But
if representative government turns out to be your intention there still may be
ways to achieve it better than the territorial district. For example you each
represent about ten thousand human beings, perhaps seven thousand of voting
age—and some of you were elected by slim majorities. Suppose instead of
election a man were qualified for office by petition signed by four thousand
citizens. He would then represent those four thousand affirmatively, with no
disgruntled minority, for what would have been a minority in a territorial
constituency would all be free to start other petitions or join in them. All
would then be represented by men of their choice. Or a man with eight thousand
supporters might have two votes in this body. Difficulties, objections,
practical points to be worked out—many of them! But you could work them
out … and thereby avoid the chronic sickness of representative
government, the disgruntled minority which feels—correctly!—that it
has been disenfranchised.

“But,
whatever you do, do not let the past be a straitjacket!

“I
note one proposal to make this Congress a two-house body. Excellent—the
more impediments to legislation the better. But, instead of following
tradition, I suggest one house legislators, another whose single duty is to
repeal laws. Let legislators pass laws only with a two-thirds majority …
while the repealers are able to cancel any law through a mere one-third
minority. Preposterous? Think about it. If a bill is so poor that it cannot
command two-thirds of your consents, is it not likely that it would make a poor
law? And if a law is disliked by as many as one-third is it not likely that you
would be better off without it?

“But
in writing your constitution let me invite attention the wonderful virtues of
the negative! Accentuate the negative! Let your document be studded with things
the government is forever forbidden to do. No conscript armies … no
interference however slight with freedom of press, or speech, or travel, or
assembly, or of religion, or of instruction, or communication, or occupation
… no involuntary taxation. Comrades, if you were to spend five years in a
study of history while thinking of more and more things that your governinen
should promise never to do and then let your constitution be nothing but those
negatives, I would not fear the outcome.

“What
I fear most are affirmative actions of sober and well-intentioned men, granting
to government powers to do something that appears to need doing. Please
remember always that the Lunar Authority was created for the noblest of purposes
by just such sober and well-intentioned men, all popularly elected. And with
that thought I leave you to your labors. Thank you.”

“Gospodin
President! Question of information! You said ‘no involuntary
taxation’—Then how do you expect us to pay for things?
Tanstaafl!”

“Goodness
me, sir, that’s your problem. I can think several ways. Voluntary
contributions just as churches support themselves … government-sponsored
lotteries to which no one need subscribe … or perhaps you Congressmen
should dig down into your own pouches and pay for whatever is needed; that
would be one way to keep government down in size to its indispensable functions
whatever they may be. If indeed there are any. I would be satisfied to have the
Golden Rule be the only law; I see no need for any other, nor for any method of
enforcing it. But if you really believe that your neighbors must have laws for
their own good, why shouldn’t you pay for it? Comrades, I beg
you—do not resort to compulsory taxation. There is so worse tyranny than
to force a man to pay for what he does not want merely because you think it
would be good for him.”

Prof
bowed and left, Stu and I followed him. Once in an otherwise empty capsule I
tackled him. “Prof, I liked much that you said … but about taxation
aren’t you talking one thing and doing another? Who do you think is going
to pay for all this spending we’re doing?”

He
was silent long moments, then said, “Manuel, my only ambition is to reach
the day when I can stop pretending to be a chief executive.”

“Is
no answer!”

“You
have put your finger on the dilemma of all government—and the reason I am
an anarchist. The power to tax, once conceded, has no limits; it contains until
it destroys. I was not joking when I told them to dig into their own pouches.
It may not be possible to do away with government—sometimes I think that
government is an inescapable disease of human beings. But it may be possible to
keep it small and starved and inoffensive—and can you think of a better
way than by requiring the governors themselves to pay the costs of their
antisocial hobby?”

“Still
doesn’t say how to pay for what we are doing now.”

“‘How,’
Manuel? You know how we are doing it. We’re stealing it. I’m
neither proud of it nor ashamed; it’s the means we have. If they ever
catch on, they may eliminate us—and that I am prepared to face. At least,
in stealing, we have not created the villainous precedent of taxation.”

“Prof.
I hate to say this—”

“Then
why say it?”

“Because,
damn it, I’m in it as deeply as you are … and want to see that
money paid back! Hate to say it but what you just said sounds like
hypocrisy.”

He
chuckled. “Dear Manuel! Has it taken you all these years to decide that I
am a hypocrite?”

“Then
you admit it?’

“No.
But if it makes you feel better to think that I am one, you are welcome to use
me as your scapegoat. But I am not a hypocrite to myself because I was aware
the day we declared the Revolution that we would need much money and would have
to steal it. It did not trouble me because I considered it better than food
riots six years hence, cannibalism in eight. I made my choice and have no
regrets.”

I
shut up, silenced but not satisfied. Stu said, “Professor, I’m glad
to hear that you are anxious to stop being President.”

“So?
You share our comrade’s misgivings?”

“Only
in part. Having been born to wealth, stealing doesn’t fret me as much as
it does him. No, but now that Congress has taken up the matter of a
constitution I intend to find time to attend sessions. I plan to nominate you
for King.”

Prof
looked shocked. “Sir, if nominated, I shall repudiate it. If elected, I
shall abdicate.”

“Don’t
be in a hurry. It might be the only way to get the sort of constitution you
want. And that I want, too, with about your own mild lack of enthusiasm. You
could be proclaimed King and the people would take you; we Loonies aren’t
wedded to a republic. They’d love the idea—ritual and robes and a
court and all that.”

“No!”

“Ja
da! When the time comes, you won’t be able to refuse. Because we need a
king and there isn’t another candidate who would be accepted. Bernardo
the First, King of Luna and Emperor of the Surrounding Spaces.”

“Stuart,
I must ask you to stop. I’m becoming quite ill.”

“You’ll
get used to it. I’m a royalist because I’m a democrat. I
shan’t let your reluctance thwart the idea any more than you let stealing
stop you.”

I
said, “Hold it, Stu. You say you’re a royalist because you’re
a democrat?”