A Large Anthology of Science Fiction

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A Large Anthology of Science Fiction Page 592

by Jerry


  “Oh yes. It postponed the start of World War II by at least three months.” Gavin leaned heavily on his arm. “The International Court of Justice, an adjunct of the United Nations, held its first meeting in 1946 in Carnegie’s marble monstrosity. Its most notable achievement to date has been a seven-to-five decision that Thailand is obligated to withdraw its police forces from the area of the Temple of Preah Vihear and to return to Cambodia any sculptures, fragments and ancient pottery that may have been removed from the temple since 1954.’ ”

  “Don’t be cynical, sir.”

  “Who’s being cynical? That was an excellent decision. Unfortunately, Cambodia accepted the jurisdiction of the Court as compulsory but Thailand claimed lack of jurisdiction . . . Let’s take a taxi to the Officers’ Club, son. I’m ausgespielt, as Herr Gottlieb would say.”

  Western European channels were boiling with speculation when they reached the lounge but only test patterns showed from Moscow or the Syncom relay to Washington. Habitues drifted in and out, fidgeted, argued, made bets, filled the place with smoke and snatched late editions as they were delivered.

  Gavin snarled at his friends and sulked in a corner while consuming endless cups of black coffee. Gerry exchanged chatter with the other correspondents.

  MacGregor created a flurry when he appeared at 2 p.m. “Just got word from Whitehall,” the British ambassador announced. “Our ship is being repaired. Colonel Kane says he will take her up again in a few days. Kane was first around the Moon, even though he did crash after re-entry.”

  “Ha!” The German turned his back and fiddled with TV controls. As he did so the Syncom pattern was replaced by an announcer who said:

  “We now present the President of the United States.” He spoke first of the American crew; of its daring and unselfish heroism. He saluted the almost equal achievement of the Russians, duly noted their claim to possession and promised that it would be adjudicated by the International Court. Then he thanked Captain Ivanovna personally for not attempting construction of a permanent base and paused, passing a weary hand across his forehead.

  “I well realize,” he continued at last, “that in all parts of the world, billions of viewers are tensely awaiting another direct report from Colonel Horace Brown. I deeply regret that I must disappoint you. Such a report cannot be made.”

  There was an uproar in the lounge until Gavin enjoined silence by beating his coffee cup on a table top.

  “. . . can only tell you,” the President’s voice finally could be heard saying, “that, since the United States claims sole ownership of the Moon by right of prior discovery, its government has decided that, for top security reasons, no further broadcasts can be permitted. I can also tell you that the American expedition continues to function normally and that it hopes to return to Earth on schedule.

  “I deeply regret this need for secrecy, yet I see no other course open, at least until representatives of my government have had time to consult with the United Nations Secretariat. I have just been on the hot wire to the Kremlin urging the Soviet Union to join in maintaining silence.

  “I well know that the concept of trust among nations is laughed at in many circles. Yet I ask you all to trust me and my government in this emergency and to believe that we are working for the best interests of the entire human race.”

  The screen went blank to the strains of the President’s favorite, “America the Beautiful.”

  The wire service correspondents and other reporters threw a cordon around Gavin, MacGregor and Prybylowski.

  “How do you interpret that statement?” they implored.

  “I cannot be quoted,” Gavin replied firmly, “and”—with a warning glance at the Pole—“neither can any of my associates.”

  “Off the record, then, please,” begged one man.

  “Ambassador! Ambassador!” shouted Harry as he thrust a tape recorder forward. “Surely you can make a statement for the world’s largest network!”

  MacGregor shook his head and pushed his way through the ring of perspiring interviewers.

  “I have no official capacity,” Herr Gottlieb suddenly boomed. “I am only a great physicist who at Peenemunde with Oberth worked. But I know the President’s statement can have only one of two meanings. How much for an exclusive statement am I offered?” He smoothed his crewcut as he took his place in the sun.

  The AP bid high, after hasty consultation with Harry. They dragged the German into another room while those frustrated collared Judge Prybylowski in the hope of breaking him down. As the lounge emptied, Gerry ordered another round of coffee for himself and Gavin.

  “Give!” he commanded. “Or must I go to the embassy?”

  “My boy,” said the judge with a flicker of his old smile, “no American official will dare open his big mouth today. You will find no reputable person at The Hague foolish enough to be your ‘competent authority.’

  “I know you have to file some story or get fired. Why not write a ‘think piece’ that may undercut Gottlieb’s AP-NBC exclusive? Start with ‘Usually unimpeachable sources who can’t be quoted say . . .”

  “Well . . .” Gerry chewed a pencil stub. “I could report a rumor that Horrie stumbled on a flying saucer.”

  “Not bad. The tabloids will lap it up. But you’ll need an alternative explanation to euchre Gottlieb.”

  “How’s this: Brown is waiting the Russians out. He’s put himself and crew on starvation rations. After Ivanovna pulls her freight when her food, water and air run out he will hang on and build his base after all.”

  “Ivanovna will catch on to that dodge.”

  “Sure. But she’ll crack first. Women are weaker than men.”

  “Evidently you haven’t seen Russian amazons working on the railroad.”

  “There’s still another angle, Judge. Why is this Gottlieb person hanging around The Hague?”

  “He wears a black homburg. Obviously he’s a TV villain.”

  “I’m serious. Gottlieb has awful long ears. He knows rockets. He was furious that Colonel Kane is not being replaced as pilot of the British ship.

  “Not many people remember the Jonah story about Kane. I do because I interviewed the colonel and his halfcracked millionaire backer when I was stationed in the Near East. That was just after the old Moonraker crashed into the Mediterranean. I may be wrong, but I have a hunch . . .”

  “Go on, son.” Gavin was shakily intent.

  “I can’t put my finger on it . . .” Gerry bit a knuckle. “At first, Britain refused to enter a three-cornered space race. Said she couldn’t afford to spend the money needed to build a ship. Then, somehow, the ship was built. Subscriptions? I should remember—”

  “ ‘Unusually reliable sources’ said construction was financed through a joint venture of British and German capital,” Gavin hinted.

  “Crickets! Private money mixed up in this mess?” Fortesque almost knocked over the table as he jumped up. “Talk about a ‘think piece’ ! This may be hot. I’ve got some digging to do.”

  “Don’t work too long,” said the judge. “I’m taking you out to Schevenigen for our last lobster night in several months. Seaside place I know there has excellent wines. I’ll enjoy watching you drink them for me. Here. Help me up!”

  Gerry’s think-piece kept him off the unemployment rolls, but his efforts to pin down backers of the earthbound British expedition were a flop. He did learn that construction of the ship had been privately financed, as Gavin suspected. Rumor said the sponsors were several big German companies in addition to Frederick Reynolds, the eccentric Folkstone steel magnate who had backed Colonel Kane’s disastrous Moonraker flight. Nobody he interviewed would guess who was in control.

  “Suggest trip London-Berlinward to check British moonship owners,” he cabled New York hopefully.

  “No Kaneraising,” came the tart reply. “Onkeep shirt.” For a week, things were dull around the Officers’ Club. Speculation about the meaning of the communication blackout died down. Talk turned to a
nother coup in Bolivia, saber-rattling on the Pakistani border and new reports of famine in China.

  The Moon snapped back into focus after brief announcements from Washington, Moscow and London. The American and Russian expeditions were on their way home—and Britain’s entry was climbing the sky!

  “Judge Gavin! Judge Gavin!” clamored correspondents in the lounge. “What do you make of this?”

  “Check with Herr Gottlieb,” he snarled, sober and mean as a rattlesnake. “Mac,” he added, “looks as if you may win that bet after all.”

  “Let’s wait for your court session before we settle,” said the ambassador. “When will it convene?”

  “The day after all three ships get home, I suspect,” the judge replied.

  “Television,” said Reuters, “is the curse of jurisprudence and journalism.”

  “Check!” said AP as he watched network technicians and press photographers scurry about the oak-paneled International Courtroom adjusting lights, measuring distances and taking endless shots of Captain Ivanovna and occasional ones of radiation-scarred Colonel Kane and surly Colonel Brown.

  “It’s certainly putting Horrie’s nose out of joint.” Gerry grinned. “Miss Red Universe is getting all the footage.”

  “He’ll be back in the limelight shortly,” said a tweedy individual from the London Times. “Brown’s the man to watch.”

  The Clerk of Court rang his little bell and asked that everyone rise.

  Members of the court filed in self-consciously. They wore identical black robes and white stocks. Otherwise, they were a cross-section of the human race—big men and little men; fat men and skinny men; white, black and yellow men—representing fifteen nations in all corners of the world.

  The justices seated themselves behind a table which occupied one end of the room. Correspondents crowded another table to the right. The three witnesses joined their respective ambassadors and advisors at the left. Photographers and TV men still jittered. Barristers in tightly curled wigs occupied a row of chairs behind the empty lectern facing the court.

  “Why the Greek chorus?” Gerry’ whispered.

  “Window dressing?” hazarded a wizened character from the International Herald Tribune.

  “No court is complete without barristers,” Reuters said, frowning them down.

  When the silence became total, Chief Justice Gavin cleared his throat, removed his pince-nez and let bleak gray eyes roam the court.

  “You may be wondering why no spectators are present,” he said at last. “The reason is that the unparalleled gravity of the case before us today requires that no report of this session reach the outside world unless authorized by me.”

  “Oh, I say, Your Honor!” As senior correspondent at The Hague, Reuters bespoke the astonishment and protest of the other journalists.

  “Don’t interrupt!” Gavin rapped for order. “I warn you: If no statement is authorized by this court, and any person in this room breaks secrecy, he shall be declared a traitor to his government and be summarily shot. I say this under instructions from the United Nations Secretariat. Anyone not wishing to conform to this ruling shall leave the presence of this court AT ONCE!”

  “But what about television?” Reuters protested. “Everything is being taped and will be censored. Now, does anyone wish to leave the room?”

  Nobody moved.

  “On this day of September 28, 1968,” Gavin went on, “this International Court of Justice has been convened in emergency session to consider and advise upon three disparate claims to exclusive or part ownership of the moon.

  “Why anyone should want that dead hunk of stone the court cannot conceive. Nevertheless, it must recognize that each of the claims is based upon a valid point of international law. Let me endeavor to explain the situation briefly:

  “Discussion of the upper limit of state sovereignty has increased in recent years with the developing potentialities of outer-space satellites. Recommendations to define this limit as the limit of air space where aircraft can travel—as the limit of control of hostile air or spacecraft from the ground—or as the limit required for security of the subjacent state—have all been proposed by committees of this court, and have been successively rejected by the sovereign states.

  “Jurists of said states hold that none of these definitions would, at the same time, assure protection of the state from espionage or attack and the free travel of their satellites in outer space.

  “Discussion has tended to the view that the limit of sovereign space cannot be determined until there is agreement on the status of outer space. Yet today, when there seems to be no general agreement except that space vehicles are under the sovereignty of the launching states, we are presented with claims to ownership of the Moon by expeditions financed by the United States of America, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and by a private venture duly chartered by the government of Great Britain.

  “Obviously, this alone makes for an explosive international situation, one which may conceivably lead to space warfare. In addition, the court is informed that another factor, of which it is not yet fully cognizant, now complicates the argument.

  “This court has been called into emergency session to adjudicate these issues and, if possible, to suggest a solution. I hope you will bear with us in our efforts. Have I made myself clear? I have. Therefore the court will call its first witness. Captain Valentina Ivanovna, please take the witness stand.”

  The blonde girl—she was in her late twenties but looked younger—stepped to the lectern and waited tensely.

  “Captain Ivanovna, have you been empowered to express not only your own views but those of your government?”

  “For the record, Your Honor,” the clerk interrupted, “what government do you refer to?”

  “To the government of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, of course,” Gavin snapped. “Answer the question, Captain.”

  “I have been so empowered with, of course, the assistance of the Soviet ambassador to The Hague.”

  “Tell us just what you found on the Moon.”

  “Your Honor,” she said in careful English, “my crew and I, by our own efforts, found little more than I reported in my only telecast after our landing. A recording of that statement is available for the record, but I shall repeat the gist of it: We found the region of Copernicus crater to be a desolate waste. Our brief exploration disclosed the presence of a tenuous lunar atmosphere and considerable water of crystallization in underlying rock formations.

  “For reasons of which you are aware, and also because temperatures are impossibly high in the Copernicus area, we decided not to attempt to build a permanent base there.”

  “In your opinion, Captain,” Judge Born of Great Britain cut in, “would it be possible to develop a base in the more temperate regions near the lunar poles?”

  “It would be possible but not pleasant.”

  Judge Prybylowski asked, “Does your government claim complete or joint ownership of the Moon?”

  “I cannot . . .” She hesitated.

  “If the court please!” boomed a voice from the left-hand table.

  “Yes, Ambassador Chernov?” Gavin asked.

  “I am authorized by my government to state that it has, as of today, withdrawn all claims to ownership of the Moon.” Pandemonium erupted and Gerry started a mad race with his colleagues for the nearest telephone. Uniformed guards barred their way to the exits and they returned sheepishly to their seats.

  “Why, my dear Captain,” the Chief Justice asked as soon as he could be heard, “did you agree with Colonel Horace Brown to cease telecasting?”

  “I would prefer to let Colonel Brown explain that,” Ivanovna replied with a tight-lipped smile.

  “Extraordinary!” Gavin regarded her pert face with approval. “And I had expected you and Chernov to wave red flags. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Step down, now, child. Colonel Wellington Kane, please take the stand.”

  The first circumnavigator of Luna li
mped to the lecturn, removed dark glasses and squinted at the justices.

  “For the record, Colonel,” Gavin said with a side glance at his nervous clerk, “will you identify yourself and your employers.”

  “I am an American citizen,” Kane replied. “At present I am employed by the Lunar Corporation, a private joint venture chartered by the government of Great Britain.”

  “Please name the principal financial backers of your expedition.”

  “They have forbidden me to reveal their identity, Your Honor. Their legal position is that this court has no jurisdiction over the affairs of private citizens. They cite, among other cases in point, this court’s ruling in . . .”

  “Never mind citations now,” Judge Born interrupted. “Is Frederick Reynolds one of your backers?”

  “I cannot answer that.” Kane looked uncomfortable. At the advisor’s table, Herr Gottlieb smirked and smoothed his brush of hair.

  “Will you deny that Berlinische Metallwerke, A. G., is your principal backer?” Prybylowski shouted.

  “I neither deny nor affirm. I stand mute.”

  “I can hold you in contempt, sir,” Gavin warned.

  “Even in that case, Your Honor, I am not authorized to answer.”

  “Hm-m-m.” Gavin pulled at a bushy white eyebrow. “Let us drop this line of questioning for a moment. On your trip around the Moon or during your recent landing there, did you notice any unusual feature that might have required the imposition of radio and TV silence?”

  “I did not. During most of my first trip my crew and I were partially or wholly unconscious because of a radiation dose received through the ports of our ship. This time none of us observed anything unusual.”

  “Tell us what you did see and do there.”

  “We came in on a polar orbit and circled the Moon twice while braking to a landing. While passing over Copernicus we made sure that the Russians and Americans had departed without making attempts to build permanent camps.

  “We landed near the Lunar North Pole. There, as Captain Ivanovna has surmised, temperature and other conditions are more equable than near the equator.

 

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