Authors: Robert A. Heinlein
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fiction, #Science fiction, #General, #Fiction - Science Fiction, #Science Fiction - General, #Adventure
"Shouldn't be surprised. What does he want Frank Mitsui so bad for?"
"Well, that's somewhat involved. They've proved that the original
Ledbetter effect depends on a characteristic of the life form involved-you
might call it a natural frequency. It seems that everybody has his own
wavelength, or wavelengths. The notion seemed like so much astrology to
me, but Dr. Brooks says that it is not only the straight dope; it isn't even new.
He showed me a paper by a chap named Fox, at the University of London,
'way back in 1945--Fox showed that each individual rabbit had hemoglobin
with its own individual wavelength; it absorbed that wavelength in
spectroscopic analysis, that one wavelength and no other. You could tell two
rabbits apart with it, or you could tell a rabbit from a dog, simply by the
spectra of their hemoglobins.
"This Dr. Fox tried to do the same thing with humans, but it didn't workno distinguishable difference in wavelengths. But Calhoun and Wilkie have
rigged a spectroscope for the spectrum Ledbetter was playing with, and it
shows clearly separate wavelengths for each sample of human blood.
Conversely, if they set up a tuned Ledbetter projector and start running down
or up the scale, when they come to your individual, unique frequency, your
red blood cells start absorbing energy, the hemoglobins protein breaks down
and-Spung!-you're dead. I'm standing right beside you and I'm not even hurt;
they haven't come to my frequency. Now Brooks has an idea that these
frequencies come by groups according to races. He thinks they can tune it to
discriminate by races, to knock over all the Asiatics in a group and not touch
the white men, and vice versa."
Thomas shivered. "Whew! That would be a weapon. "
"Yes, it would. It's just on paper so far, but they want to test it on Mitsui.
As I gather what they intended to do, they don't intend to kill him, but it's
bound to be dangerous as all hell to Mitsui."
"Frank won't mind chancing it," Thomas commented.
"No, I don't suppose he would." It seemed to Ardmore that it would
probably be a favor to Mitsui to give him a clean, painless death in the
laboratory. "Now about another matter. It seems to me we ought to be able to
work up a sort of permanent secret service, using your hobo pals and their
sources of information. Let's talk about it."
Ardmore gained a few days' respite in which to consider further the
problem of military use of the weapons at his disposal while the research
staff tested their theories concerning the interrelation between racial types
and the improved Ledbetter effect. The respite did him no good. He had a
powerful weapon, yes; in fact, many powerful weapons, for it seemed that the
new principles they had tapped had fully as protean possibilities as electricity.
It seemed extremely likely that if the United States defense forces had had,
one year earlier, the tools now available in the Citadel, the United States
would never have fallen.
But six men cannot whip an empire-not by brute force. The emperor
could, if necessary, expend six million men to defeat six. The hordes of the
empire could come at them barehanded and win, move over them as an
avalanche moves, until they were buried under a mountain of dead flesh.
Ardmore had to have an army to fight with his wonderful new weapons.
The question was: how to recruit and train such an army?
Certain it was that the PanAsians would not hold still while he went into
the highways and byways and got his forces together. The thoroughness with
which they had organized police surveillance of the entire population made it
evident that they were acutely aware of the danger of revolution and would
stamp out any such activity before it could possibly reach proportions
dangerous to them.
There remained one clandestine group, the hobos.
He consulted with Thomas as to the possibility of organizing them for
military purposes. Thomas shook his head at the idea.
"You can't understand the hobo temperament, Chief. There is not one in
a hundred who could be depended on to observe the strict self -discipline
necessary for such an enterprise. Suppose you were able to arm all of them
with projectors -I don't say that is possible, but suppose you could-you still
would not have an army; you would simply have an undisciplined rabble."
"Wouldn't they fight?"
"Oh, sure, they'd fight. They'd fight as individuals, and they would do
quite a bit of slaughter until some flatface caught them off guard and winged
them. "
"I wonder if we can depend on them as sources of information. "
"That's another matter. Most of the road kids won't have any idea that
they are being used to obtain military information. I'll handpick not over a
dozen to act as reporters to me, and I won't tell them anything they don't
have to know."
Any way he looked at it, simple, straightforward military use of the new
weapons was not expedient. Brutal frontal attack was for the commander
who had men to expend. General U. S. Grant could afford to say, "I will fight
it out on this line if it takes all summer," because he could lose three men to
the enemy's one and still win. Those tactics were not for the commander who
could not afford to lose any men. For him it must be deception, misdirectionfeint and slash and run away-"and live to fight another day." The nursery
rhyme finished itself in his mind. That was it. It had to be something totally
unexpected, something that the PanAsians would not realize was warfare
until they were overwhelmed by it.
It would have to be something like the "fifth columns" that destroyed the
European democracies from within in the tragic days that led to the final
blackout of European civilization. But this would not be a fifth column of
traitors, bent on paralyzing a free country; but the antithesis of that, a sixth
column of patriots whose privilege it would be to destroy the morale of
invaders, make them afraid, unsure of themselves.
And misdirection was the key to it, the art of fooling!
Ardmore felt a little better when he had reached that conclusion. It was
something he could understand, a job suited to an advertising man. He had
been trying to crack it as a military problem, but he was not a field marshal
and it had been silly of him to try to make a noise like one. His mind did not
work that way. This was primarily a job in publicity, a matter of mob
psychology. A former boss of his, under whom he had learned the racket,
used to tell him, "I can sell dead cats to the board of health with a proper
budget and a free hand."
Well, he had a free hand, all right, and the budget was no problem. Of
course, he could not use the newspapers and the old channels of advertising,
but there would be a way. The problem now was to figure out the weak points
of the PanAsians and decide how Calhoun's little gadgets could be used to
play on those weak points until the PanAsians were sick of the whole deal
and anxious to go home.
He did not have a plan as yet. When a man is at a loss for a course of
action, he usually calls for a conference. Ardmore did.
He sketched out to them the situation up to date, including all that
Thomas had learned and all that had come in by television through the
conquerors' "educational" broadcasts. Then he discussed the powers that
were made available to them by the research staff, and the various obvious
ways in which they could be applied as military weapons, emphasizing the
personnel necessary to use each type of weapon effectively. Having done so,
he asked for suggestions.
"Do I understand, Major," Calhoun began, "that after rather pointedly
telling us that you would make all military decisions you are now asking us to
make up your mind for you?"
"Not at all, Colonel. I have still the responsibility for any decision, but this
is a new sort of military situation. A suggestion from any source may prove
valuable. I don't flatter myself that I have a monopoly on common sense, nor
on originality. I would like for every one of us to tackle this problem and let
the others criticize it. "
"Do you yourself have any plan to offer us?"
"I am reserving my opinions until the rest of you have spoken."
"Very well, sir"-Dr. Calhoun straightened himself up-"since you have
asked for it, I will tell you what I think should be done in this situation-what, in
fact, is the only thing that can be done.
"You are aware of the tremendous power of the forces I have made
available." Ardmore noticed Wilkie's mouth tighten at this allocation of credit,
but neither of them interrupted. "In your resume, you underestimated them, if
anything. We have a dozen fast scout cars housed here in the Citadel. By
refitting them with power units of the Calhoun type they can be made faster
than anything the enemy can put into the air. We will mount on them the
heaviest projectors and attack. With overwhelmingly superior weapons it is
only a matter of time until we will have the PanAsiatic empire beaten to its
knees!"
Ardmore wondered how any man could be so blind. He did not himself
wish to argue against Calhoun; he said, "Thank you, Colonel. I'll ask you to
submit that plan written up in more detail. In the meantime does anyone wish
to amplify or criticize the colonel's suggestion?" He waited hopefully, then
added, "Come now, no plan is perfect. You must have some details to add, at
least."
Graham took the, plunge. "How often do you expect to come down to
eat?"
Calhoun cut in before Ardmore could call on him. "Well, I'm damned! I
must say that I consider this no time for facetiousness."
"Wait a minute," protested Graham, "I didn't mean to be funny. I'm quite
serious. That's my department. Those scout cars are not equipped to keep
the air very long, and it seems to me that it will take quite a long time to
reconquer the United States with a dozen scout cars, even if we located
enough men to keep them in the air all the time. That means you have to
come back to base to eat."
"Yes, and that means the base will have to be held against attack,"
Scheer put in suddenly.
"The base can be defended with other projectors." Calhoun's tone was
scornful. "Major, I really must ask that the discussion be confined to sensible
issues."
Ardmore rubbed his chin and said nothing.
Randall Brooks, who had been listening thoughtfully, pulled a piece of
paper out of his pocket and began to sketch. "I think Scheer has something,
Dr. Calhoun. If you will look here for a moment here, at this point, is your
base. The PanAsians can encircle the base with ships at a distance greater
than the range of the base projectors. The greater speed of your scout cars
will be unimportant, for the enemy can well afford to use as many ships as
necessary to insure our craft not getting past the blockade. It's sure that the
scout cars will have the projectors with which to fight, but they can't fight a
hundred ships at once, and the enemies' weapons are powerful, too-we
mustn't forget that."
"You're right they're powerful!" added Wilkie. "We can't afford to have a
known base. With their bombardment rockets they could stand back a
thousand miles and blow this whole mountain out of the ground, if they knew
we were under it."
Calhoun stood up. "I'm not going to remain here and listen to misgivings
of pusillanimous fools. My plan assumed that men would execute it." He
walked stiffly out of the room.
Ardmore ignored his departure and went hurriedly on, "The objections
made to Colonel Calhoun's scheme seem to me to apply to every plan for
open, direct combat at this time. I have considered several and rejected them
for approximately those reasons, at least for reasons of logistics-that is to
say, the problem of military supply. However, I may not have thought of some
perfectly feasible solution. Does anyone have a direct warfare method to
suggest, a method which will not risk personnel?"
No one answered. "Very well, bring it up later if you think of one. It
seems to me that we must necessarily work by misdirection. If we can't fight
the enemy directly at this time, we must fool 'em until we can."
"I see," agreed Dr. Brooks, "the bull wears himself out on the cape and
never sees the sword."
"Exactly. Exactly. I only wish it were as easy as that. Now do any of you
have any ideas as to how we can use what we've got without letting them
know who we are, where we are, or how many we are? And now I'm going to
take time out for a cigarette while you think about it."
Presently, he added, "You might bear in mind that we have two real
advantages: the enemy apparently has not the slightest idea that we even
exist, and our weapons are strange to them, even mysterious. Wilkie, didn't
you compare the Ledbetter effect to magic?"
"I should hope to shout, Chief! It's safe to say that, aside from the
instruments in our laboratories, there just isn't any way in existence to detect
the forces we are working with now. You don't even know they're there. It's