Industrial Revolution Read online

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  Blades mastered his own shock enough to grate: "Well, we sure haven't.If that thing goes off, the gamma burst will kick up so many minoritycarriers in the transistors that the _p_-type crystals will act_n_-type, and the _n_-type act _p_-type, for a whole couple ofmicroseconds. Every one of 'em will flip simultaneously! Thecomputers' memory and program data systems will be scrambled beyondhope of reorganization."

  "Magnetic pulse, too," Chung said. "The fireball plasma will be fullof inhomogeneities moving at several per cent of light speed. Theirelectromagnetic output, hitting our magnetic core units, will turnthem from super to ordinary conduction. Same effect, total computeramnesia. We haven't got enough shielding against it. Your TIMM systemscan take that kind of a beating. Ours can't!"

  "Very regrettable," Hulse said. "You'd have to reprogram everything--"

  "Reprogram what?" Avis retorted. Tears started forth in her eyes."We've told you what sort of stuff our chemical plant is handling. Wecan't shut it down on that short notice. It'll run wild. There'll besodium explosions, hydrogen and organic combustion, n-n-nothing lefthere but wreckage!"

  Hulse didn't unbend a centimeter. "I offer my most sincere apologies.If actual harm does occur, I'm sure the government will indemnify you.And, of course, my command will furnish what supplies may be neededfor the _Pallas Castle_ to transport you to the nearest Commissionbase. At the moment, though, you can do nothing but evacuate and hopewe will be able to intercept the missile."

  Blades knotted his fists. A sudden comprehension rushed up in him andhe bellowed, "There isn't going to be an interception! This wasn't anaccident!"

  Hulse backed a step and drew himself even straighter. "Don't getoverwrought," he advised.

  "You louse-bitten, egg-sucking, bloated faggot-porter! How stupid doyou think we are? As stupid as your Essjay bosses? By heaven, we'restaying! Then see if you have the nerve to murder a hundred people!"

  "Mike ... Mike--" Avis caught his arm.

  Hulse turned to Chung. "I'll overlook that unseemly outburst," hesaid. "But in light of my responsibilities and under the provisions ofthe Constitution, I am hereby putting this asteroid under martial law.You will have all personnel aboard the _Pallas Castle_ and at aminimum distance of a thousand kilometers within four hours of thismoment, or be subject to arrest and trial. Now I have to get back andcommence operations. The _Altair_ will maintain radio contact withyou. Good day." He bowed curtly, spun on his heel, and clacked fromthe room.

  Blades started to charge after him. Chung caught his free arm.Together he and Avis dragged him to a stop. He stood cursing the airultraviolet until Ellen entered.

  "I couldn't keep up with you," she panted. "What's happened, Mike?"

  The strength drained from Blades. He slumped into a chair and coveredhis face.

  * * * * *

  Chung explained in a few harsh words. "Oh-h-h," Ellen gasped. She wentto Blades and laid her hands on his shoulders. "My poor Mike!"

  After a moment she looked at the others. "I should report back, ofcourse," she said, "but I won't be able to before the shipaccelerates. So I'll have to stay with you till afterward. Miss Page,we left about half a bottle of wine on the verandah. I think it wouldbe a good idea if you went and got it."

  Avis bridled. "And why not you?"

  "This is no time for personalities," Chung said. "Go on, Avis. You canbe thinking what records and other paper we should take, while you'reon your way. I've got to organize the evacuation. As for Miss Ziska,well, Mike needs somebody to pull him out of his dive."

  "Her?" Avis wailed, and fled.

  Chung sat down and flipped his intercom to Phone Central. "Get meCaptain Janichevski aboard the _Pallas_," he ordered. "Hello, Adam?About that general alarm--"

  Blades raised a haggard countenance toward Ellen's. "You better clearout, along with the women and any men who don't want to stay," hesaid. "But I think most of them will take the chance. They're on aprofit-sharing scheme, they stand to lose too much if the place isruined."

  "What do you mean?"

  "It's a gamble, but I don't believe Hulse's sealed orders extend tomurder. If enough of us stay put, he'll have to catch that thing. Hejolly well knows its exact trajectory."

  "You forget we're under martial law," Chung said, aside to him. "If wedon't go freely, he'll land some PP's and march us off at gunpoint.There isn't any choice. We've had the course."

  "I don't understand," Ellen said shakily.

  Chung went back to his intercom. Blades fumbled out his pipe androlled it empty between his hands. "That missile was shot off onpurpose," he said.

  "What? No, you must be sick, that's impossible!"

  "I realize you didn't know about it. Only three or four officers havebeen told. The job had to be done very, very secretly, or there'd be ascandal, maybe an impeachment. But it's still sabotage."

  She shrank from him. "You're not making sense."

  "Their own story doesn't make sense. It's ridiculous. A new missilesystem wouldn't be sent on a field trial clear to the Belt before it'dhad enough tests closer to home to get the worst bugs out. A war-headmissile wouldn't be stashed anywhere near something so unreliable, letalone be put under its control. The testing ship wouldn't hang arounda civilian Station while her gunnery chief tinkered. And Hulse,Warburton, Liebknecht, they were asking in _such_ detail about howradiation-proof we are."

  "I can't believe it. Nobody will."

  "Not back home. Communication with Earth is so sparse and garbled. Thepublic will only know there was an accident; who'll give a hoot aboutthe details? We couldn't even prove anything in an asteroid court. TheNavy would say, 'Classified information!' and that'd stop theproceedings cold. Sure, there'll be a board of inquiry--composed ofnaval officers. Probably honorable men, too. But what are they goingto believe, the sworn word of their Goddard House colleague, or therantings of an asterite bum?"

  "Mike, I know this is terrible for you, but you've let it go to yourhead." Ellen laid a hand over his. "Suppose the worst happens. You'llbe compensated for your loss."

  "Yeah. To the extent of our personal investment. The Bank of Ceresstill has nearly all the money that was put in. We didn't figure tohave them paid off for another ten years. They, or their insurancecarrier, will get the indemnity. And after our fiasco, they won't makeus a new loan. They were just barely talked into it, the first timearound. I daresay Systemic Developments will make them a nice juicyoffer to take this job over."

  Ellen colored. She stamped her foot. "You're talking like a paranoiac.Do you really believe the government of North America would send abattleship clear out here to do you dirt?"

  "Not the whole government. A few men in the right positions is allthat's necessary. I don't know if Hulse was bribed or talked intothis. But probably he agreed as a duty. He's the prim type."

  "A duty--to destroy a North American business?"

  * * * * *

  Chung finished at the intercom in time to answer: "Not permanentphysical destruction, Miss Ziska. As Mike suggested, some corporationwill doubtless inherit the Sword and repair the damage. But a private,purely asterite business ... yes, I'm afraid Mike's right. We are thetarget."

  "In mercy's name, why?"

  "From the highest motives, of course," Chung sneered bitterly. "Youknow what the Social Justice Party thinks of private capitalism.What's more important, though, is that the Sword is the first Beltundertaking not tied to Mother Earth's apron strings. We have nocommitments to anybody back there. We can sell our output wherever welike. It's notorious that the asterites are itching to build up theirown self-sufficient industries. Quite apart from sentiment, we canmake bigger profits in the Belt than back home, especially when youfigure the cost of sending stuff in and out of Earth's gravitationalwell. So certainly we'd be doing most of our business out here.

  "Our charter can't simply be revoked. First a good many laws wouldhave to be revised, and that's politically impossible. There is stilla lot of individu
alist sentiment in North America, as witness thefact that businesses do get launched and that the Essjays did have ahard campaign to get elected. What the new government wants issomething like the Eighteenth Century English policy toward America.Keep the colonies as a source of raw materials and as a market formanufactured goods, but don't let them develop a domestic industry.You