The Worlds Of Robert A Heinlein

by Robert A. Heinlein

with. I am a fair-sized man, yet I found that armor heavy to carry around.

  Estelle Karst was a small woman, yet she was willing to work maybe fourteen

  hours, day after day, in an outfit which was about as comfortable as a

  diving suit. But she had not complained.

  Not all the heroes are in the headlines. These radiation experts not only

  ran the chance of cancer and nasty radio-action burns, but the men stood a

  chance of damaging their germ plasm and then having their wives present

  them with something horrid in the way of offspring�no chin, for example,

  and long hairy ears. Nevertheless, they went right ahead and never seemed

  to get irritated unless something held up their work.

  Dr. Karst was past the age when she would be likely to be concerned

  personally about progeny, but the principle applies.

  I wandered around, looking at the unlikely apparatus she used to get her

  results, fascinated as always by my failure to recognize much that reminded

  me of the physics laboratory I had known when I was an undergraduate, and

  being careful not to touch anything. Karst started explaining to Manning

  what she was doing and why, but I knew that it was useless for me to try to

  follow that technical stuff. If Manning wanted notes, he would dictate

  them. My attention was caught by a big box-like contraption in one corner

  of the room. It had a hopper-like gadget on one side and I could hear a

  sound from it like the whirring of a fan with a background of running

  water. It intrigued me.

  I moved back to the neighborhood of Dr. Karst and the Colonel and heard her

  saying, "The problem amounts to this, Colonel: I am getting a much more

  highly radio-active end-product than I want, but there is considerable

  variation in the half-life of otherwise equivalent samples. That suggests

  to me that I am using a mixture of isotopes but I haven't been able to

  prove it. And frankly, I do not know enough about that end of the field to

  be sure of sufficient refinement in my methods. I need Dr. Obre's help on

  that."

  I think those were her words, but I may not be doing her justice, not being

  a physicist I understood the part about "half-life." All radioactive

  materials keep right on radiating until they turn into something else,

  which takes theoretically forever. As a matter of practice their periods,

  or "lives," are described in terms of how long it takes the original

  radiation to drop to one-half strength. That time is called a "half-life"

  and each radioactive isotope of an element has its own specific

  characteristic half-lifetime.

  One of the staff�I forget which one�told me once that any form of matter

  can be considered as radioactive in some degree; it's a question of

  intensity and period, or half-life.

  "I'll talk to Dr. Ridpath," Manning answered her, "and see what can be

  arranged. In the meantime you might draw up plans for what you want to

  re-equip your laboratory."

  "Thank you, Colonel."

  I could see that Manning was about ready to leave, having pacified her; I

  was still curious about the big box that gave out the odd noises.

  "May I ask what that is, Doctor?"

  "Oh, that? That's an air-conditioner."

  "Odd-looking one. I've never seen one like it."

  "It's not to condition the air of this room. It's to remove the radioactive

  dust before the exhaust air goes outdoors. We wash the dust out of the foul

  air."

  "Where does the water go?"

  "Down the drain. Out into the bay eventually, I suppose. '

  I tried to snap my fingers, which was impossible because of the lead

  mittens. "That accounts for it, Colonel!"

  "Accounts for what?"

  "Accounts for those accusing notes we've been getting from the Bureau of

  Fisheries. This poisonous dust is being carried out into Chesapeake Bay and

  is killing the fish."

  Manning turned to Karst. "Do you think that possible, Doctor?"

  I could see her brows draw together through the window in her helmet. "I

  hadn't thought about it," she admitted. "I'd have to do some figuring on

  the possible concentrations before I could give you a definite answer. But

  it is possible�yes. However," she added anxiously, "it would be simple

  enough to divert this drain to a sink hole of some sort."

  "Hm-m-m�yes." He did not say anything for some minutes, simply stood there,

  looking at the box.

  Presently he said, "This dust is pretty lethal?"

  "Quite lethal, Colonel." There was another long silence.

  At last I gathered he had made up his mind about something for he said

  decisively, "I am going to see to it that you get Obre's assistance,

  Doctor."

  "Oh, good!"

  "�but I want you to help me in return. I am very much interested in this

  research of yours, but I want it carried on with a little broader scope. I

  want you to investigate for maxima both in period and intensity as well as

  for minima. I want you to drop the strictly utilitarian approach and make

  an exhaustive research along lines which we will work out in greater detail

  later."

  She started to say something but he cut in ahead of her. "A really thorough

  program of research should prove more helpful in the long run to your

  original purpose than a more narrow one. And I shall make it my business to

  expedite every possible facility for such a research. I think we may turn

  up a number of interesting things."

  He left immediately, giving her no time to discuss it. He did not seem to

  want to talk on the way back and I held my peace. 1 think he had already

  gotten a glimmering of the bold and drastic strategy this was to lead to,

  but even Manning could not have thought out that early the inescapable

  consequences of a few dead fish�otherwise he would never have ordered the

  research.

  No, I don't really believe that. He would have gone right ahead, knowing

  that if he did not do it, someone else would. He would have accepted the

  responsibility while bitterly aware of its weight.

  1944 wore along with no great excitement on the surface. Karst got her new

  laboratory equipment and so much additional help that her department

  rapidly became the largest on the grounds. The explosives research was

  suspended after a conference between Manning and Ridpath, of which I heard

  only the end, but the meat of it was that there existed not even a remote

  possibility at that time of utilizing U235 as an explosive. As a source of

  power, yes, sometime in the distant future when there had been more

  opportunity to deal with the extremely ticklish problem of controlling the

  nuclear reaction. Even then it seemed likely that it would not be a source

  of power in prime movers such as rocket motors or mobiles, but would be

  used in vast power plants at least as large as the Boulder Dam

  installation.

  After that Ridpath became a sort of co-chairman of Karst's department and

  the equipment formerly used by the explosives department was adapted or

  replaced to carry on research on the deadly artificial radioactives.

  Manning arranged a division of labor and Karst stuck to her original

  problem of developing techn
iques for tailor-making radioactives. I think

  she was perfectly happy, sticking with a one-track mind to the problem at

  hand. I don't know to this day whether or not Manning and Ridpath ever saw

  fit to discuss with her what they intended to do.

  As a matter of fact, I was too busy myself to think much about it. The

  general elections were coming up and I was determined that Manning should

  have a constituency to return to, when the emergency was over. He was not

  much interested, but agreed to let his name be filed as a candidate for

  re-election. I was trying to work up a campaign by remote control and

  cursing because I could not be in the field to deal with the thousand and

  one emergencies as they arose.

  I did the next best thing and had a private line installed to permit the

  campaign chairman to reach me easily. I don't think I violated the Hatch

  Act, but I guess I stretched it a little. Anyhow, it turned out all right;

  Manning was elected, as were several other members of the citizen-military

  that year. An attempt was made to smear him by claiming that he was taking

  two salaries for one job, but we squelched that with a pamphlet entitled

  "For Shame!" which explained that he got one salary for two jobs. That's

  the Federal law in such cases and people are entitled to know it.

  It was just before Christmas that Manning first admitted to me how much the

  implications of the Karst-Obre process were preying on his mind. He called

  me into his office over some inconsequential matter, then did not let me

  go. I saw that he wanted to talk.

  "How much of the K-O dust do we now have on hand?" he asked suddenly.

  "Just short of ten thousand units," I replied. "I can look up the exact

  figures in half a moment." A unit would take care of a thousand men, at

  normal dispersion. He knew the figure as well as I did, and I knew he was

  stalling.

  We had shifted almost imperceptibly from research to manufacture, entirely

  on Mannings initiative and authority. Manning had never made a specific

  report to the department about it, unless he had done so verbally to the

  chief of staff.

  "Never mind," he answered to my suggestion, then added, "Did you see those

  horses?"

  "Yes," I said briefly.

  I did not want to talk about it. I like horses. We had requisitioned six

  broken-down old nags, ready for the bone yard, and had used them

  experimentally. We knew now what the dust would do. After they had died,

  any part of their carcasses would register on a photographic plate and

  tissue from the apices of their lungs and from the bronchia glowed with a

  light of its own.

  Manning stood at the window, staring out at the dreary Maryland winter for

  a minute or two before replying, "John, I wish that radioactivity had never

  been discovered. Do you realize what that devilish stuff amounts to?"

  "Well," I said, "it's a weapon, about like poison gas�maybe more

  efficient."

  "Rats!" he said, and for a moment I thought he was annoyed with me

  personally. "That's about like comparing a sixteen-inch gun with a bow and

  arrow. We've got here the first weapon the world has ever seen against

  which there is no defense, none whatsoever. It's death itself, C. O. D.

  "Have you seen Ridpath's report?" he went on.

  I had not. Ridpath had taken to delivering his reports by hand to Manning

  personally.

  "Well," he said, "ever since we started production I've had all the talent

  we could spare working on the problem of a defense against the dust.

  Ridpath tells me and I agree with him that there is no means whatsoever to

  combat the stuff, once it's used."

  "How about armor," I asked, "and protective clothing?"

  "Sure, sure," he agreed irritatedly, "provided you never take it off to

  eat, or to drink or for any purpose whatever, until the radioaction has

  ceased, or you are out of the danger zone. That is all right for laboratory

  work; I'm talking about war."

  I considered the matter. "I still don't see what you are fretting about,

  Colonel. If the stuff is as good as you say it is, you've done just exactly

  what you set out to do�develop a weapon which would give the United States

  protection against aggression."

  He swung around. "John, there are times when I think you are downright

  stupid!"

  I said nothing. I knew him and I knew how to discount his moods. The fact

  that he permitted me to see his feelings is the finest compliment I have

  ever had.

  "Look at it this way," he went on more patiently; "this dust, as a weapon,

  is not just simply sufficient to safe guard the United States, it amounts

  to a loaded gun held at the head of every man, woman, and child on the

  globe!"

  "Well," I answered, "what of that? It's our secret, and we've got the upper

  hand. The United States can put a stop to this war, and any other war. We

  can declare a Pax Americana, and enforce it."

  "Hm-m-m�I wish it were that easy. But it won't remain our secret; you can

  count on that. It doesn't matter how successfully we guard it; all that

  anyone needs is the hint given by the dust itself and then it is just a

  matter of time until some other nation develops a technique to produce it.

  You can't stop brains from working, John; the reinvention of the method is

  a mathematical certainty, once they know what it is they are looking for.

  And uranium is a common enough substance, widely distributed over the

  globe�don't forget that!

  "It's like this: Once the secret is out�and it will be out if we ever use

  the stuff!�the whole world will be comparable to a room full of men, each

  armed with a loaded .45. They can't get out of the room and each one is

  dependent on the good will of every other one to stay alive. All offense

  and no defense. See what I mean?"

  I thought about it, but I still didn't guess at the difficulties. It seemed

  to me that a peace enforced by us was the only way out, with precautions

  taken to see that we controlled the sources of uranium. I had the usual

  American subconscious conviction that our country would never use power in

  sheer aggression. Later, I thought about the Mexican War and the

  Spanish-American War and some of the things we did in Central America, and

  I was not so sure�

  It was a couple of weeks later, shortly after inauguration day, that

  Manning told me to get the Chief of Staff's office on the telephone. I

  heard only the tail end of the conversation. "No, General, I won't."

  Manning was saying, "I won't discuss it with you, or the Secretary,

  either." This is a matter the Commander in Chief is going to have to decide

  in the long run. If he turns it down, it is imperative that no one else

  ever knows about it. That's my considered opinion. . . . What's that? . . .

  I took this job under the condition that I was to have a free hand. You've

  got to give me a little leeway this time. . . . Don't go brass hat on me. I

  knew you when you were a plebe. . . . O. K., O. K., sorry. . . . If the

  Secretary of War won't listen to reason, you tell him I'll be in my seat in

  the House of Representatives tomorrow, and that I'll
get the favor I want

  from the majority leader. . . All right. Good-bye."

  Washington rang up again about an hour later. It was the Secretary of War.

  This time Manning listened more than he talked. Toward the end, he said,

  "All I want is thirty minutes alone with the President. If nothing comes of

  it, no harm has been done. If I convince him, then you will know all about

  it. . . . No, sir, I have no desire to embarrass you. If you prefer, I can

  have myself announced as a congressman, then you won't be responsible. . .

  . No, sir, I did not mean that you would avoid responsibility. I intended

  to be helpful. . . . Fine! Thank you, Mr. Secretary."

  The White House rang up later in the day and set a time.

  We drove down to the District the next day through a nasty cold rain that

  threatened to turn to sleet. The usual congestion in Washington was made

  worse by the weather; it very nearly caused us to be late in arriving. I

  could hear Manning swearing under his breath all the way down Rhode Island

  Avenue. But we were dropped at the west wing entrance to the White House

  with two minutes to spare. Manning was ushered into the oval office almost

  at once and I was left cooling my heels and trying to get comfortable in

  civilian clothes. After so many months of uniform they itched in the wrong

  places.

  The thirty minutes went by.

  The President's reception secretary went in, and came out very promptly

  indeed. He stepped on out into the outer reception room and I heard

  something that began with, I'm sorry, Senator, but�" He came back in, made

  a penciled notation, and passed it out to an usher.

  Two more hours went by.

  Manning appeared at the door and the secretary looked relieved. But he did

  not come out, saying instead, "Come in, John, The President wants to take a

  look at you."

  I fell over my feet getting up.

  Manning said, "Mr. President, this is Captain deFries." The President

  nodded, and I bowed, unable to say anything. He was standing on the hearth

  rug, his fine head turned toward us, and looking just like his pictures�but

  it seemed strange for the President of the United States not to be a tall

  man.

  I had never seen him before, though, of course, I knew something of his

  record the two years he had been in the Senate and while he was Mayor

  before that.

  The President said, "Sit down, deFries. Care to smoke?" Then to Manning.

  "You think he can do it?"

  "I think he'll have to. It's Hobson's choice."

  "And you are sure of him?"

  "He was my campaign manager."

  "I see"

  The President said nothing more for a while and God knows I didn't!�though

  I was bursting to know what they were talking about. He commenced again

  with, "Colonel Manning, I intend to follow the procedure you have

  suggested, with the changes we discussed. But I will be down tomorrow to

  see for myself that the dust will do what you say it will. Can you prepare

  a demonstration?"

  "Yes, Mr. President."

  "Very well, We will use Captain deFries unless I think of a better

  procedure." I thought for a moment that they planned to use me for a guinea

  pig! But he turned to me and continued, "Captain, I expect to send you to

  England as my representative."

  I gulped. "Yes, Mr. President." And that is every word I had to say in

  calling on the President of the United States.

  After that, Manning had to tell me a lot of things he had on his mind. I am

  going to try to relate them as carefully as possible, even at the risk of

  being dull and obvious and of repeating things that are common knowledge.

  We had a weapon that could not be stopped. Any type of K-O dust scattered