"If we have enough water."

"We will. We'll have enough in a few months for everything we want to do, plus an emergency backup, as well."

Before Leonov could say more. Kinsman went on, "The only way to make our independence stick is to have the UN recognize us. I think there are enough unaligned nations in the General Assembly that are fed up with both the West and the East to vote us in."

"That debating society!" Leonov stamped a few paces away from Kinsman. "Chet, my lunar brother, I expected better of you. This idea of independence is nonsense, idiocy. It cannot work. I myself have thought about it a thousand times. But it cannot succeed!"

"But if the UN would recognize an independent Selene ..."

"Hah! So what? What good would it do? Long before the question of our glorious independence is even placed on the debating society's agenda, both Moonbase and Lunagrad would be buried alive under troops from Earthside. Our 355 court-martials would be finished and our bodies fertilizing the pig farms before the UN bureaucrats could lift a finger."

"But—"

"Admit it!" Leonov nearly shouted. "We have no mili- tary strength. You could not even be sure that enough of your own Moonbase people would go along with your insane idea. All you would do would be to foment civil war inside your own community."

Kinsman shook his head. "No. That much I'm certain of. You forget, I've been selecting the permanent residents of Moonbase for the past five years. I know who they are and what they'll do. The ninety-dayers—yes, we'd have trouble with some of them. But nothing we couldn't handle."

Leonov snorted. "Well, I know what would happen in Lunagrad. Half the populace would shoot the other half, and I have no idea who would be left alive when the smoke cleared. Possibly no one."

Despite himself. Kinsman grinned. "I thought you said Lunagrad was filled with exiles."

"Yes—but they are Soviet exiles. Not citizens of some new nation called Selene."

"And they're not sufficiently intelligent to see that a free Selene is to the advantage of everyone, including Mother

Russia?"

Leonov's voice went from scornful to curious. "What do you mean?"

"If we declared our independence it would startle both America and Russia. If we stopped supplying oxygen and water and supplies to the space stations, it would upset their orbital operations quite a bit . . ."

"For a month or two, possibly. No longer."

"All right." Kinsman glanced at the ungainly Apollo lander squatting nearby. He could not see the plaque from where he was standing. "But we'd cause enough of a fuss, enough of an upset to their plans, that they'd be forced to delay this war buildup. This Antarctica incident would be pushed from their minds. By turning their attention to us we could stop them from going to war against each other."

Leonov sighed heavily. "I wish it were that simple, my friend. But it is not. Nothing will stop them from fighting their 356 war. They will bow only to superior force, and there is no force superior anywhere on Earth or the Moon. History is inexorable, just as Marx said."

"No, it doesn't have to . . ."

"Chet, you are being naive! Assume the best possible results. Assume that your most optimistic hopes come true:

We become independent and the UN recognizes us. Your nation and mine do not interfere, and we are allowed to remain independent. Their war is averted. For how long? Six months? A year? Have we provided more food for anyone on Earth? More energy? Sooner or later we will be exactly where we are now: standing here helplessly and watching them build up for war. There is no way to avoid it! The Earth is too crowded, resources too scarce. Why do you think they are shooting at each other in Antarctica? Both of them need that coal!"

Kinsman agreed reluctantly. "With the oil running out, there's not enough for everybody."

"Even with the success of the fusion experiments," Leonov said, "they won't be able to produce enough energy to make any difference for another ten or twenty years."

"If we could hold off the war for that long . . ."