“Sugar, cream?” J.J. asked politely.
Dom shook his head.
“Try this with it,” J.J. said, lifting the top of a silver server. On the tray inside were small pieces of something which looked very much like butter.
“What is it?”
“Just try it.” J.J. picked up a small piece and popped it into his mouth.
Dom picked up a piece and looked at it. It had a slightly grainy texture. It had the spongy feel of a good, rich bread. He nibbled it tentatively, then took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. It was unlike anything he’d ever eaten. It had a wholesome, hearty taste, a pleasing richness.
“Do you want to listen to me for a minute now, Flash?” J J. asked, grinning broadly.
“J.J.,” Dom said, “I have to admit that you have my full attention.”
Chapter Thirteen
Carbohydrates are not the most healthful of foods, when taken as a major portion of the diet, but a hungry man doesn’t concern himself with nutrition, only with filling his belly. Carbohydrates are easily utilized by the body. They can supply a quick burst of energy, especially if rich in sugars. The blood sugar level rises immediately, and the eater feels a surge of energy.
Rationing was necessary at first, but, when added to the dwindling store of food stocks under the control of the government, the tons of carbohydrates which were ferried from the moon to Earthside turned the tide in the battle for the stomachs of the people.
At first, not too much care was taken about sanitation. Foodstuff was being delivered to fighting men on short rations and to civilians who didn’t care too much about cleanliness, as long as the roughly carved chunks tasted good.
Later, as the country began to come back to normal and the forces of the Shaw Alliance were gradually pushed back into southern California and exterminated ruthlessly, the stuff was delivered in sanitary wrappings, carefully weighed, but available in plenty.
By the time Admiral Dominic Gordon returned from Jupiter with another load of raw material, there was a functioning government. Small amounts of the foodstuff went a long way, because it was rich. When released from the pressurized hold of the John F. Kennedy, the stuff expanded into tons and tons of richness.
The space industry had new life. War damage slowed the recovery, but space was a high-priority field. A second Kennedy class ship was being built out beyond the moon. Plans for the ship were given to the governments of the U.K., Japan, Germany, and the U.S.S.R., and within months they had their own tankers under construction. There was plenty of room out beyond the moon.
It was not all generous and selfless, the donation of the research which went into the Kennedy, and the distribution, without cost, of tons of rich carbohydrates to India, Africa, and Asia. No one gets something for nothing, and the price was dictated by a hard-nosed U.S. government operating with a temporary Congress of only fifty-two members, one man from each state, more than half of them military men. Before a country got the Kennedy, that country instituted a very tough program of birth control. Before a nonindustrial country received food, the governments provided heavy penalties for unlicensed births. The freedom to breed was, very definitely, put into cold storage, and when starving millions protested, food shipments were cut off until the starving millions saw the light and obeyed government edicts to use birth control. On the New York Stock Exchange, the stocks of companies in the birth-control field shot out of sight.
Parliamentary democracy was not popular in the United States. The politicians who had sat for centuries in the halls of government without solving even the most pressing problems were sent home to work the fields to help restore American agriculture, for the manna from heaven made an excellent fertilizer. Actually, only a few of the ex-movers and shakers did manual labor, but many fancied themselves to be gentlemen farmers, and it made a good story when it was told to the press by J.J. Barnes, Minister of Supply of the Second Republic.
Admiral Gordon was not totally satisfied with the new government in Washington, but it was better than anything the country had known since the last of the hard-nosed American Presidents, Harry Truman, died in the middle of the twentieth century. Dom began to have hope, as he talked to traditionalists in the services, that a total military dictatorship would be avoided, and that a measure of freedom would be maintained, to be expanded upon in the future. Never, however, would something so precious as a vote be extended to people steeped in ignorance and indolence. The right to vote would be available to all, but it would be earned, and not by owning money or property. The vote could be exercised only by those who, by written test, demonstrated a working knowledge of the choices of free men. The franchise would be available to any person if it was earned, but it was not a God-given right. Future elections would not be won by the man who looked best on television, or by a man who got votes because his father and the voter’s father had been Publicrat all their lives.
Admiral Neil Walters took the Kennedy on her third trip to Jupiter after completing flight tests on the second of the huge tankers. Admiral Gordon raced him there on the New Republic, the Kennedy’s sister ship. To his pleasure, the old girl beat her younger sister into orbit by two hours and thirty-two minutes.
It was a long trip to Dom, for Doris was Earthside, designing a computer which would link qualified voters to a referendum center in Washington. By the time he got back to the moon, ten million citizens had qualified, and were in a position to let their voices be heard on all questions, not merely who was to sit on the throne of power. An entirely new form of government of the people and by the people was slowly being put into effect.
When she met the shuttle which took him down, she was in full dress uniform. Dom had never seen her look more beautiful. He found her to smell and feel equally wonderful as he seized her in a bear hug and lifted her from her feet. He had only one plan. It involved privacy and Doris. And, in the future, if she didn’t go, he didn’t go.
“You’re not being dignified, admiral,” Doris said, tugging at her tunic. “And we’re on camera.”
Dom looked up into the eye of a television camera. “Again?” he asked.
“This one is special,” Doris said. “The media have been released from censorship. We’re operating with a free press again, and the network wants to do a full documentary on the first flight of the Kennedy.”
“Later,” Dom said, seizing her arm and trying to lead her away.
“There are orders from on high to cooperate,” Doris said.
“J.J.?” Dom asked. She nodded. “Oh, hell,” he said. “Let him be interviewed. I’m taking you home.”
But he was blocked by another camera crew and a young woman. “Admiral Gordon, we won’t take much of your time.”
“All right,” Dom said. “Let’s get on with it.”
“We’d like to do one segment of filming on the construction site,” the young lady said. A third tanker was taking shape out on the moon. “We can do that after you’ve had a chance to rest from your trip.”
“You’re all heart,” Dom said.
John Marrow was to conduct the interview with Dom. He cornered Dom. “I think you’d like to know what goes before,” he said. “It’ll only take a minute.” He placed Dom in front of a portable monitor.
The introduction to the documentary opened with dramatic closeup shots of Jupiter. The Kennedy was superimposed against the gas giant. Marrow’s voice was talking about the state of the world at the time of the Kennedy’s first voyage and of the brave men and women who set out aboard an untested vessel on a mission which would change the world.