I wandered up to the study, wondering what Farr wanted this time, and knowing it meant a new assignment. I'd had three weeks since I got back with the uranium. To hell with the war, and independence, and - Oh, I didn't mean it, of course. In the first place, if we didn't win, my future on Mars was a little less appetizing than the future I'd had on Earth. And I could hardly complain about Army Mickey Mouse, because we didn't have any. In theory I was an officer - full lieutenant, instead of just acting - and exempt from what little bullshit there was. Not that the rank meant much. I was Lieutenant Pittson, and Sarge was just "Sarge," whatever that meant, but he sure as hell outranked me, which was as it should have been. And if anybody had tried to get some old Rimrat like Zeke Terman to salute me, it might have been interesting for a couple of minutes…
No, I was just unhappy because nobody paid much attention to me. I didn't have anything to do. I suspected he was about to fix that.
"Come in, Garrett," Farr said. He looked much better: the swelling was gone from around his face, and he could use his left hand a little, enough to hold a coffee cup anyway. You wouldn't have known what they'd done to him unless you saw him walking. "Have a seat."
"Yes, sir." Farr was the only one of us who rated a 'sir', and he didn't insist on it.
"We seem to be winning this war," Farr said.
"Yes, sir." That was the word we had, anyway. The Federation held the cities, but now that we had Deucalion and the orbital ship and a couple of dozen other important centers, nearly every independent station owner had come out for Free Mars. The Feddies had stopped trying to take over our territory; now they were defending what they had, and getting nervous about it at that.
"Unfortunately, there are Federation Councilors on Earth who don't believe it," Farr said.
"They don't believe that we have the power to destroy an Earth city. Or they pretend they don't believe it. And they have not informed the people of Earth that we have the capability to make atomic weapons.
"But they must know we can -"
Farr shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. You believed it impossible. And most of the people of Earth do not know what was kept at Deucalion." He shrugged again. "There are also divisions among the miners' representatives here. Some of them are asking what is in independence for their people. Ah. Come in, Erica."
I looked around. She was a mess. She hadn't been getting enough sleep, and her eyes were red with dark bags under them. She hadn't been out of her p-suit in days, and I doubt she'd changed coveralls, very recently either. Her hair was up in braids, not very flattering.
She nodded to me; we'd been fighting again.
"Well?" Farr asked.
She sank into a chair. I'd never seen her so worn out. "If the theory's right, it will work. Dr. Weinbaum says it will, anyway."
"And you think so?"
"Yes. "
"Then we're ready. Do you still want to do this?"
She leaned forward, and some color came back into her face. Her eyes shone, the way they did the first night I met her. "Try and stop me!"
"I don't want to stop you. You can leave in the morning. The ship is ready."
"What's going on here?" I asked.
Farr regarded me coldly. "I'm sending Erica and one of the weapons to New Chicago. Do you want to go as military escort?"
"New Chicago?" The more I thought about that, the less I liked it. "You mean you're going to put Erica and that damned bomb into a rocket plane and blast her halfway around Mars? The hell you are!"
"Garrett," Erica said. "Shut up."
"You shut up! I'm not letting you get in that stupid thing. What do they need a bomb for, anyway? What is all this -"
"Enough!" Farr shouted. "Lieutenant Pittson. The question is not whether Erica goes. That is settled, and you have no choice in the matter. The question is whether you will go, and frankly I don't think you're the proper man for the job, even if Erica has insisted that you come with her -"
"And just why isn't Garrett the right man?" Erica's voice was coldly polite.
"I think the two of you will drive me crazy," Farr said. "This is not only a technical job, it is also a diplomatic mission. You'll be working with university people, not Rimrats. Customs are different in the old colonies. And diplomacy is not precisely Garrett's strongest point."
"He'll be all right," Erica insisted. "And I want him with me. If -"
I didn't like the way she said that. "If what?" I asked.
Farr didn't answer immediately. He looked at Erica, then back to me, and finally came to a decision. "I see I must explain. Garrett, that weapon must not fall into anyone else's hands. And we cannot allow the Federation to capture anyone who knows how many weapons we have. That is the main reason for the security we've put on the labs. What you don't know, you can't be forced to tell - and given modern interrogation methods, don't kid yourself that you won't tell everything you know. You will. It only takes time."
He looked at his left hand and tried to flex the fingers. "Fortunately, they did not have time in my case. And Mr. Ellsworth was less interested in information than in punishing a traitor. He is not a subtle man."
"Now wait a minute," I said. "You're saying that rather than be captured, we're supposed to commit suicide?"
"No. You don't know anything important. But Erica does. I believe the Padre preaches against suicide… "
"No! Goddamn it, are you telling me I have to kill Erica?"
"If that is the only alternative to capture, yes." He seemed pretty damn calm about it.
"I won't do it," I said.
"I supposed you would say that. So you will not be going. Someone else will."
"With the same orders," I said.
"Of course."
"That's inhuman!"
"Perhaps." Farr looked to Erica. She had shrunk down in her chair and looked miserable. "I told you," Farr said.
"Just wait," she said. She looked at me. "Please, Garrett? Nothing is going to happen. But if - well, I'd rather you were with me."
"But I love you," I told her. "Lord God, we fight a lot, but I do love you. How can you do this? Can't they send someone else?"
"Who?" Farr demanded.
"You will not send anyone else. Garrett, I have to do this. It's for the Project! Don't you see? I have to go."
I began to understand, then. "It's a lousy choice you're giving me."
"Nothing's going to happen," she said.
"If I thought this wouldn't work," Farr said, "I wouldn't risk it."
"The hell you wouldn't," I said. "You send women on suicide missions every day-"
"But I do not send out an irreplaceable weapon," Farr said. "I do not expect any trouble at all. But the military escort on this mission must understand the situation. Now, are you going or not?"
It was one hell of a choice, but not really. How could I stay behind, now that I knew what the orders were? I certainly couldn't stop her from going. I knew that. "All right, damn you, I'll go."
Before the Skipper opened his mouth I knew what the next thing would be. "Sarge tells me you're a Marsman," Farr said. "Are you?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have your word,"
"Yes, sir."
"You'll leave in the morning. Under the circumstances, you're both off duty until then. I'll arrange for someone to put the gear you'll need aboard the ship."
FIFTEEN