Free The Past Through Tomorrow by Robert A. Heinlein Page A

their particular jobs were the indispensable ones, and that, therefore, under the “natural order” they would be top dog. With so many different functions actually indispensable such self-persuasion was easy.
    Gaines stared at Van Kleeck for a moment before replying. “Van,” he said slowly, “you don’t really think you can get away with this, do you?”
    The little man puffed out his chest. “Why not? We have gotten away with it. You can’t start strip twenty until I am ready to let you, and I can stop the whole road, if necessary.”
    Gaines was becoming uncomfortably aware that he was dealing with unreasonable conceit, and held himself patiently in check. “Sure you can, Van—but how about the rest of the country? Do you think the United States Army will sit quietly by and let you run California as your private kingdom?”
    Van Kleeck looked sly. “I’ve planned for that. I’ve just finished broadcasting a manifesto to all the road technicians in the country, telling them what we have done, and telling them to arise, and claim their rights. With every road in the country stopped, and people getting hungry, I reckon the President will think twice before sending the army to tangle with us. Oh, he could send a force to capture, or kill me—I’m not afraid to die!—but he doesn’t dare start shooting down road technicians as a class, because the country can’t get along without us—consequently, he’ll have to get along with us—on our terms!”
    There was much bitter truth in what he said. If an uprising of the road technicians became general, the government could no more attempt to settle it by force than a man could afford to cure a headache by blowing out his brains. But was the uprising general?
    “Why do you think that the technicians in the rest of the country will follow your lead?”
    “Why not? It’s the natural order of things. This is an age of machinery; the real power everywhere is in the technicians, but they have been kidded into not using their power with a lot of obsolete catch-phrases. And of all the classes of technicians, the most important, the absolutely essential, are the road technicians. From now on they run the show—it’s the natural order of things!” He turned away for a moment, and fussed with some papers on the desk before him, then he added, “That’s all for now, Gaines—I’ve got to call the White House, and let the President know how things stand. You carry on, and behave yourself, and you won’t get hurt.”
    Gaines sat quite still for some minutes after the screen cleared. So that’s how it was. He wondered what effect, if any, Van Kleeck’s invitation to strike had had on road technicians elsewhere. None, he thought—but then he had not dreamed that it could happen among his own technicians. Perhaps he had made a mistake in refusing to take time to talk to anyone outside the road. No—if he had stopped to talk to the Governor, or the newspapermen, he would still be talking. Still—
    He dialled Davidson.
    “Any trouble in any other sectors, Dave?”
    “No, Chief.”
    “Or on any other road?”
    “None reported.”
    “Did you hear my talk with Van Kleeck?”
    “I was cut in—yes.”
    “Good. Have Hubbard call the President and the Governor, and tell them that I am strongly opposed to the use of military force as long as the outbreak is limited to this road. Tell them that I will not be responsible if they move in before I ask for help.”
    Davidson looked dubious. “Do you think that is wise, Chief?”
    “I do! If we try to blast Van and his red-hots out of their position, we may set off a real, country-wide uprising. Furthermore, he could wreck the road so that God himself couldn’t put it back together. What’s your rolling tonnage now?”
    “Fifty-three percent under evening peak.”
    “How about strip twenty?”
    “Almost evacuated.”
    “Good. Get the road clear of all traffic as fast as possible. Better have the Chief of Police