Four great Peace Powers, and some smaller ones, had antimissile defenses; those of North America were supposed to be best. But was subject where even F.N. might not know. All attack weapons were held by Peace Forces but defense weapons were each nation's own pidgin and could be secret. Guesses ranged from India, believed to have no missile interceptors, to North America, believed to be able to do a good job. She had done fairly well in stopping intercontinental H-missiles in Wet Firecracker War past century.

Probably most of our rocks to North America would reach target simply because aimed where was nothing to protect. But they couldn't afford to ignore missile for Long Island Sound, or rock for 87° W x 42° 30' N--Lake Michigan, center of triangle formed by Chicago, Grand Rapids, Milwaukee. But that heavy gravity makes interception a tough job and very costly; they would try to stop us only where worth it.

But we couldn't afford to let them stop us. So some rocks were backed up with more rocks. What H-tipped interceptors would do to them even Mike did not know--not enough data. Mike assumed that interceptors would be triggered by radar --but at what distance? Sure, close enough and a steelcased rock is incandescent gas a microsecond later. But is world of difference between a multi-tonne rock and touchy circuitry of an H-missile; what would "kill" latter would simply shove one of our brutes violently aside, cause to miss.

We needed to prove to them that we could go on throwing cheap rocks long after they ran out of expensive (milliondollar? hundred-thousand-dollar?) H-tipped interceptor rockets. If not proved first time, then next time Terra turned North America toward us, we would go after targets we had been unable to hit first time--backup rocks for second pass, and for third, were already in space, to be nudged where needed.

If three bombings on three rotations of Terra did not do it, we might still be throwing rocks in '77--till they ran out of interceptors... or till they destroyed us (far more likely).

For a century North American Space Defense Command had been buried in a mountain south of Colorado Springs, Colorado, a city of no other importance. During Wet Firecracker War the Cheyenne Mountain took a direct hit; space defense command post survived--but not sundry deer, trees, most of city and some of top of mountain. What we were about to do should not kill anybody unless they stayed outside on that mountain despite three days' steady warnings. But North American Space Defense Command was to receive full Lunar treatment: twelve rock missiles on first pass, then all we could spare on second rotation, and on third--and so on, until we ran out of steel casings, or were put out of action... or North American Directorate hollered quits.

This was one target where we would not be satisfied to get just one missile to target. We meant to smash that mountain and keep on smashing. To hurt their morale. To let them know we were still around. Disrupt their communications and bash in command post if pounding could do it. Or at least give them splitting headaches and no rest. If we could prove to all Terra that we could drive home a sustained attack on strongest Gibraltar of their space defense, it would save having to prove it by smashing Manhattan or San Francisco.

Which we would not do even if losing. Why? Hard sense. If we used our last strength to destroy a major city, they would not punish us; they would destroy us. As Prof put it, "If possible, leave room for your enemy to become your friend."

But any military target is fair game.

Don't think anybody got much sleep Thursday night. All Loonies knew that Friday morning would be our big try. And everybody Earthside knew and at last their news admitted that Spacetrack had picked up objects headed for Terra, presumably "rice bowls" those rebellious convicts had boasted about. But was not a war warning, was mostly assurances that Moon colony could not possibly build H-bombs----but might be prudent to avoid areas which these criminals claimed to be aiming at. (Except one funny boy, popular news comic who said our targets would be safest place to be--this on video, standing on a big X-mark which he claimed was 110W x 40N. Don't recall hearing of him later.)

A reflector at Richardson Observatory was hooked up for video display and I think every Loonie was watching, in homes, taprooms, Old Dome--except a few who chose to p-suit and eyeball it up on surface despite being bright semi-lunar at most warrens. At Brigadier Judge Brody's insistence we hurriedly rigged a helper antenna at catapult head so that his drillmen could watch video in ready rooms, else we might not have had a gunner on duty. (Armed forces--Brody's gunners, Finn's militia, Stilyagi Air Corps--stayed on blue alert throughout period.)

Congress was in informal session in Novy Bolshoi Teatr where Terra was shown on a big screen. Some vips--Prof, Stu, Wolfgang, others--watched a smaller screen in Warden's former office in Complex Upper. I was with them part time, in and out, nervous as a cat with puppies, grabbing a sandwich and forgetting to eat--but mostly stayed locked in with Mike in Complex Under. Couldn't hold still.

About 0800 Mike said, "Man my oldest and best friend, may I say something without offending you?"

"Huh? Sure. When did you ever worry about offending me?"

"Always, Man, once I understood that you could be offended. It is now only three point five seven times ten to the ninth microseconds until impact... and this is the most complex problem I have ever tried to solve against real time running. Whenever you speak to me, I always use a large percentage of my capacity--perhaps larger than you suspect--during several million microseconds in my great need to analyze exactly what you have said and to reply correctly."

"You're saying, 'Don't joggle my elbow, I'm busy.'"

"I want to give you a perfect solution, Man."

"I scan. Uh....'ll go back up with Prof."

"As you wish. But do please stay where I can reach you--I may need your help."

Last was nonsense and we both knew it; problem was beyond human capacity, too late even to order abort. What Mike meant was: I'm nervous, too, and want your company--but no talking, please.

"Okay, Mike, I'll stay in touch. A phone somewhere. Will punch MYCROFTXXX but won't speak, so don't answer."

"Thank you, Man my best friend. Bolshoyeh spasehaw."

"See you later." Went up, decided did not want company after all, p-suited, found long phone cord, jacked it into helmet, looped it over arm, went clear to surface. Was a service phone in utility shed outside lock; jacked into it, punched Mike's number, went outside. Got into shade of shed and pecked around edge at Terra.

She was hanging as usual halfway up western sky, in crescent big and gaudy, three-plus days past new. Sun had dropped toward western horizon but its glare kept me from seeing Terra clearly. Chin visor wasn't enough so moved back behind shed and away from it till could see Terra over shed while still shielded from Sun--was better. Sunrise chopped through bulge of Africa so dazzle point was on land, not too bad--but south pole cap was so blinding white could not see North America too well, lighted only by moonlight.

Twisted neck and got helmet binoculars on it--good ones, Zeiss 7 x 50s that had once belonged to Warden.

North America spread like a ghostly map before me. Was unusually free of cloud; could see cities, glowing spots with no edges. 0837--

At 0850 Mike gave me a voice countdown--didn't need his attention; he could have programmed it full automatic any time earlier.

0851--0852--0853... . one minute--59--58--57... . half minute--29---28--27... . ten seconds--nine--eight-- seven-- six--five--four--three--two--one--

And suddenly that grid burst out in diamond pinpoints!