Chapter 10 Chapter nine

After a long time, too long, long enough to forget everything, including revolutions.Don't think it's impossible.If we hadn't been making preparations for the revolution, everyone might have really forgotten about the revolution.Our first goal is to stay undetected, and the long-term goal is to make things as bad as possible on Moon City. Yes, worse.Of course, there was no time, not even for eternity: all Lunarians hated the authorities so much that they were willing to rebel.The Lunarians despise the Warden and play tricks on the authorities.But that doesn't mean everyone is ready to fight, ready to sacrifice themselves.If you mention "patriotism" to a lunar man, he'll just roll his eyes at you - or think you're talking about his country: the immigrant French whose hearts belong to great France; The Germans are loyal to their Germans; the Russians are still deeply in love with their Holy Mother Russia.And what about the moon?It's just a stone, a penal colony, nobody loves it.

We are the least politically conscious people that has ever appeared in human history.I know this best, and if circumstances hadn't forced me into it, I would have no interest in politics at all.Wyoming.Politics because of a personal hatred of the authorities; the professor because he despises all governments with intellectual detachment; It is said to be "the only game on this ground".It cannot be said that our actions were motivated by patriotic zeal.To say patriotic, I'm the closest.I'm a third generation moon guy with absolutely no feelings for anywhere on Earth.I've been to Earth, but I don't like it, and I despise those earth pussies.Therefore, I am the most "patriotic" in this group!

Most lunar people are interested in things in order: beer, gambling, women, work. "Women" may still be ranked second, but although they are a rare and pampered resource, they cannot be ranked first.The people on the moon discovered long ago that women are never enough for everyone.Those who are slow to comprehend this aspect are dead, because even the most possessive man cannot be vigilant all the time.As the professor said, a society must adapt to reality, otherwise it cannot survive.The lunar people have adapted to the harsh and harsh reality here - those who don't adapt have lost and died long ago.But "patriotism" is not an absolute necessity for survival.

There is an old saying in China that goes, "You don't know the true face of Mount Lu, you only live in it." Before going to Earth, I didn't realize this at all.After I went there, I still didn't fully understand it.I didn't realize that this thing called "patriotism" was completely absent in the Moonman inventory until I started trying to incite a Moonman rebellion.Wyoh and her companions tried to push the button of "patriotism" to start something, but nothing happened - several years of hard work, only a few thousand members, less than one percent of the total population one.In this small group of less than 1%, nearly 10% of the people are spies who receive salaries from scab leaders.

The professor got us on the right track: It's easier to make people hate than it is to love. Fortunately, Security Chief Alvarez came to our rescue.Nine guards died, and ninety successors were replaced.The authorities have been pissed off and are doing something they've been desperately loath to do — spending money on us.All kinds of stupid policies are like a chain reaction, one after another. Even in the early days of the Lunar Penalty, the Warden's guards were modest.Jailers in the historical sense are unnecessary.It is this which is of great interest to the whole penal system: cheapness.The warden, his deputies, and visiting dignitaries must be protected, not the prison itself.Later, they realized that even providing escort for the spaceship was an unnecessary waste of money. After that, they even saved this expense.Thus, in May 2075, the number of guards was reduced to a minimum, drawn directly from among those recently exiled here.

But losing nine in one night, some people became frightened.The incident, we found out, terrified Alvarez.He deposited a copy of the request for assistance in Zebra Files, and Mike read it.A prisoner himself, Alvarez had been a police officer on Earth before being sent into exile, and had been working as a guard on the moon ever since.He might be the scariest, loneliest man on the entire moon.So he asked for more and stronger assistance, and even threatened to resign from office—threats. If the government really understands the moon, of course it understands that this is just a threat. It is impossible for Alvarez to put this threat into practice. practice.If Alvarez really became an unarmed civilian, no matter which part of the city he was in, he could only make up and survive for a while before being recognized by others.

Alvarez got the extra manpower he asked for, but we didn't find out who ordered the attack that night.Horny Morty has never shown that inclination, and has remained faithful to his titular king throughout his tenure.Maybe Alvarez.He's only recently gotten into the role of scab chief, and maybe he wants to show his face--maybe he wants to climb up to the position of warden.The most likely fact is that the Warden reported the so-called "subversive activities", and his report prompted the Earth Government to order a purge. One stupid mistake after another.The new guards were no longer selected from recently exiled convicts; they came from the elite Federal peacekeeping heavy cavalry unit, which was specialized in this line of work.These people are rough and hard-hearted.They didn't want to come to the moon, and soon after arriving here they found that the so-called "temporary police service" was a journey with no return.They hate the moon and the moonmen, and think it's all because of us that they're in this bad shape.

As soon as this group of thugs came into existence, Alvarez immediately carried out 24-hour surveillance of the subway stations in each section, issued passports at the same time, and implemented a passport control system.If there were laws on the moon, this system would be illegal.Because in theory, ninety-five percent of us are free people, some are born free, and some are free after being released from prison.In the cities, this ratio is even higher, because the exiles who have not yet been freed live in the military barracks of the government complex, and they can only enter the city on the only two rest days each month.One or two days, despite being penniless, they would wander around hoping someone would buy them a drink.You see this kind of guy everywhere.

However, the regulations formulated by the Warden are still only on paper and have not been implemented, so the passport control system is not "illegal".It was announced in the newspapers, and everyone was given a week to get a passport, which came into force at eight o'clock one morning.But many lunar people almost never travel far.Some were just asking or traveling for business, others were commuting: from outlying areas or from Moon City to Sylvan, or the other way around.Well-behaved kids filled out applications, paid, had their photos taken, and got passports; following the professor's advice, I, too, became well-behaved, paid for a passport, and put it with my pass to enter the government complex.

There are so few good kids!The Lunarians don't believe this.passport?Who ever heard of that thing? That morning, a cavalryman appeared at Guantienan Station, wearing a yellow bodyguard uniform instead of a military uniform.He looked as if he hated his outfit and hated us.I didn't plan to go anywhere, so I retreated to the side and observed. Xin Lien's iron cabin arrived at the station, and more than 30 people flocked to the gate.The gentleman in the yellow coat demanded the first man's passport, and the moonman stopped and argued, and the second man pushed his way.The guard turned and yelled—three or four more men squeezed past.He reached for his stuff, but someone grabbed his hand, and the gun went off—not a lasgun, but a loaded gun, and the sound was deafening.

The bullet hit the ground and "woo... ho... ho... hoo..." went to other places.I backed off.One person was injured - the guard.When the first group of passengers rushed down the gangway, he was already lying on the deck, motionless. No one cares about him.Some people walked around him, while others simply stepped over him.Only a woman with a child stopped and carefully kicked him in the face before going down the gangway.Maybe he was dead, she didn't stop to look.Everyone knows that the body cannot be moved until the ambulance arrives. The next day, half a squad of guards came to that place.The pipe iron cabin to Xinlien returned empty. Everything subsided.Those who had to travel got passports, and some diehards simply gave up traveling.There were also two guards at Guantie's gate, one was checking passports, the other was holding a pistol and standing back.The guard who checked the passports wasn't looking very carefully.That's good, because most passports are fake, and this batch of fake passports is a shoddy quick copy.But it wasn't long before the counterfeiters got their hands on the real passports, which were as good as the official ones—only more expensive, but the Lunarians preferred the freely traded passports. Our organization does not manufacture fake passports.We just encourage this kind of behavior - and know who has it and who doesn't.Mike's records list all officially issued passports.The files we're building also separate them from people with fake passports, sheep from goats—our files are also stored in Mike's, but under the "Bastille" address.Here's what we think: a person with a fake passport is already half of us.In our growing organization, the various active branches were ordered not to admit anyone with a valid passport.If the recruiter is not sure, he can ask his superiors, and an answer will be returned immediately. The guards' troubles were not over yet.The children's teasing made them lose their dignity and find no peace.The little ones imitated every movement they made, running around shouting insults at them, sneaking glances at them, and gesticulating with Accelerator.At least the guards took it all as an insult.The children were standing in front of the guards while they were doing these things, and what they were doing out of sight was even more of a headache for the guards. A guard hit a young boy with a backhand, knocking out several of his teeth.The result: two guards dead, and a moonman. After this incident, the guards had no choice but to ignore what the children were doing. We don't need to instigate this kind of thing, just encourage it.You might think that a nice old lady like my first wife wouldn't encourage kids to do that.She did, however, encourage them. There are many ways to upset these single men far from home—one of which is ours.The authorities sent these peacekeeping heavy cavalry here, but they didn't think about how to comfort them physically and mentally. Some of our female compatriots are very beautiful, and they began to hang out around the Guantie station with less clothes than usual, that is to say, close to nothing.I also wore more perfume than usual, and the fragrance wafted far and carried a magical power.They didn't strike up a conversation with those yellow coats, and they didn't look at them, they just walked gracefully within their sight.That kind of walking can only be done by moon girls (women on earth can't walk so lightly, six times the gravity of the earth keeps them tightly chained). This of course attracted a male audience, ranging from grown men to prepubertal boys.They whistled joyously and applauded her beauty, and made vicious jokes about the yellow coats.The first girls on this mission are paid, and we have to pay them.But soon there were so many volunteers that the professor concluded that we didn't need to spend a dime on it. He was right.Even Lyudmila, who is usually timid and shy like a kitten, wanted to try it, but in the end she couldn't do so only because Mumu told her not to.But Lenore, who was ten years older than her, the most beautiful woman in our family, really tried.Mumu didn't blame her for it either.When she came back that day, her face was flushed and she was very excited.Satisfied with herself, she is eager to tease our enemies again.It was her own idea; she didn't know at the time the revolution that was brewing. During this time I hardly saw the professor, let alone saw him in public.We keep in touch mainly by phone.At the beginning, there was only one telephone on our farm, which was used by twenty-five people, which was very inconvenient.Most of these people are young people, and they will hang up on the phone for hours without being forced.Mumu is very strict. The children are only allowed to make one phone call a day, and each call can last up to 90 seconds.Correspondingly, the punishments escalated—although often mitigated by her zeal to allow exceptions.Often, though, such concessions are followed by a big reasoning—"Mum's Telephone Lecture"—"There was no private phone when I first came to the moon. You kids really..." Ours was one of the last wealthy families to have a telephone.When I entered this house, the telephone was still a novelty.The reason our family is rich is that we never buy what the farm can produce.Mumu didn't like the phone, because a large part of the phone bill paid to United Telecom was passed on to the government.She's never been able to figure out why I can't steal phone service like electricity ("Manuel, honey, since you know a lot about this stuff, then...").This was difficult because the telephone was part of the switching system it had to bridge.But Mom doesn't care about my difficulties. Ultimately, to steal is to steal.The problem with illegal calls is how to get in.Because the number isn't listed, even if you give your number to the person you're calling, the call won't go through because of the switching system itself. However, once Mike joined our "plan", switching systems was out of the question.I had most of the tools I needed in my own workshop, bought some, and stole some.I drilled a tiny hole from the workshop into the phone cabinet and another into Wyoh's room—the wall was a meter thick, but the laser drill with a beam as thin as a pencil made a hole in one fell swoop.I removed the phone included in the list, connected a wireless coupler to the signal line access hole on the back of it, and then concealed the coupler.Next, I installed a two-way receiver and a loudspeaker in Wyoh's and mine's rooms, both hidden.Another circuit was installed to boost the frequency of the voice signal on the Davis family telephone line beyond the range of human hearing, while simultaneously reducing the frequency of the calling signal on our own private line, So we can hear it. The difficulty in doing this kind of thing is to avoid the eyes and ears of others.With the cover of Mumu, this problem is easily solved. The rest is up to Mike.We don't need to go into a switchboard, we just use our home phone, and we don't even have to type MYCROFT XXX.Mike monitored the workshop and Wyoh's room in real time.He would say "Mike" whenever my or her voice called, but not any other voice.Voice types, like personal fingerprints, vary and are easy to identify.Mike never made a mistake. Then I tinkered with some tricks - first, the sound insulation device on the door of Wyoh's room, which was originally on the door of the workshop; then there was the switch that could shield me and Wyoh's equipment; and then there was a special signal, she could Tell me if I'm alone, if the door is locked, and I can use those signals to tell her about me.All of this further ensures the security of calls between me, Wyoh, Mike, and the professor, as well as the security of our four-person conference call.No matter where the professor is, Mike can always call him.Then the professor would talk to him, or call back from a more confidential call.It could be me or Wyoh who Mike needs to find.We both kept in touch with Mike carefully. My illegal phone, though I couldn't dial in a number, could call any phone on the moon.If I want to call someone, just speak to Mike and arrange a Sherlock way.No need to tell him the number, Mike has a list of all the numbers and he can look up numbers much faster than I can. We began to see the limitless potential available to us in the existing telephone switching system.I got an idle number from Mike and gave Mum a number that she could call Mike when she wanted to get in touch with me.She was very friendly with Mike and always thought of him as a person.Everyone in our family thinks so. One day, as soon as I got home, Sidiris said to me, "Manny, dear, your friend Mike, who has a very nice voice. Holmes called and asked you to call back." "Thank you, honey. I will." "When are you asking him over for dinner, Manny? I think he's a nice guy." I told her that Mr. Holmes had a foul breath, messy hair, and that he hated women. Because Mumu was not there, she uttered a foul word.She said: "You are afraid that I will see him, and you are worried that I will choose him to enter the door." I patted her and said it was because of this. I told the professor and Mike about it.From then on, Mike and my women got even more flirty.The professor thought about it for a while. I began to learn various techniques for engaging in "rebellion", and gradually recognized the professor's idea that "revolution can be an art".I haven't forgotten (nor doubted) Mike's prophecy: seven years to go before the moon is in trouble.But I don't think about the catastrophe, I'm preoccupied with the details of the revolution, which are interesting questions. The professor once emphasized that the most difficult issue in a conspiracy is communication and security measures, and also pointed out that the two are contradictory-the easier the communication, the greater the security aspect; but the security measures are too tight and the communication is inconvenient , then the entire organization will be paralyzed if there is an emergency.Adopting the branch system can just give consideration to both. I approve of the branch system, which is necessary to limit the damage caused by espionage.After discovering that the former underground had been thoroughly infiltrated by spies, even Wyoh admitted that an organization could not function without dividing into separate branches. But I don't like the closed connections in the branch system.The whole organization is like the old dinosaurs on earth, it takes a long time to get the message from the beginning to the end or back. So I talked to Mike about the situation. In the end, we gave up the multi-channel contact method I suggested to the professor and kept the branch system.But build on the ingenuity of our thinking computer, both for safety and connection. Contact System: We have established a three-tiered tree system using "Party" titles, Chairman (prefix A): Mr. Adam Selene (Mike). Executive branch (prefix B): Bock (me), Betty (Wyoh), Bill (professor). Branch led by Bock (C): Cassie (Mum), Colin, Chang. Branch led by Betty (C): Calvin (Greg), Comrade Cecilia (Sidiris), Comrade Clayton. Branch led by Bill (C): Conor (Finn Nelson), Caroline, Cottle. --etc.On the seventh level of organizational relationships, George (G) supervises Herbert, Henry, and Harry.Once you reach this level, you need to find 2187 names with the initial letter "H" - leave this to our clever computer, it will find it, and if it can't find it, it will invent it.Each new member has a party title and an emergency phone number.With this number, information does not have to be uploaded layer by layer, and members can directly talk to "Adam Selene", that is, Mike. Security: based on a double principle - no one person has everything in their hands, but any situation can be safely entrusted to Mike. The legitimacy of the first half of the dual principle is beyond doubt.With drugs and other means, anyone can be overwhelmed.At this point, the only form of defense is suicide, which is difficult, almost impossible.Of course, there is such a thing as the "hollow tooth" (poison inside), which is both traditional and novel, and it is almost foolproof-the professor made sure that both me and Wyoh were equipped with this trick.I don't know what the "last friend" the professor gave her is. Anyway, I don't plan to equip my own. Knowing these complicated details is useless.Besides, I really don't know if I'm going to kill myself.I'm not martyr material. Of course Mike didn't have to commit suicide.Drugs cannot anesthetize him, and pain cannot stimulate him.He keeps all information about us in a separate memory bank.This memory bank is controlled by an encrypted command, and only the voices of the three of us can open it.In addition, considering the fragility of the flesh, we have added an instruction that in an emergency, any one of us can lock the memory bank and prevent the other two from entering.In my opinion, the best computer technician on the whole moon, once locked, even Mike couldn't open it.Of course, the most reassuring thing is that no one will query the main control computer for this file, because no one knows its existence, and no one will doubt Mike's identity.What could be more secure than this? The only risk is that this awakened machine will always have some whimsy.He can always show some unexpected potential, maybe one day he can find a way to turn us around at once-if he wants to do so. But he would never want to do that.To me, his first and longest friend, was devotion; to the professor, affection; to Wyoh, love.Of course, this has nothing to do with sex.But Wyoh is really likable, and they get along very well from the first interaction. I trust Mike.In a life like this, you only gamble once; and on this one I've put everything on it. As a result, our security system was based on total trust in Mike, and each of us knew only what we had to know.Take the tree system of party members and their titles as an example. I only know the party titles of my branch members and three immediate subordinates. These are all I have to know.Mike established a system of party titles, assigned phone numbers to each member, and kept a list of people whose real names corresponded to party titles.For example, a member of the organization named "Daniel" (I would not know this person, because he is a "D" level, two levels below me) recruited a new member, Fritz Schulz.Daniel reported the incident to his F-level superior, but did not report his name.Adam Selene then called Daniel, designated Schultz's party name as "Embrook," then called Schultz at the number Daniel provided, and told him his party name was Embro gram, and give him an emergency number at the same time.Everyone's emergency number is different. Even Embrook's immediate superiors were ignorant of his emergency number.Since it's something you don't know, no matter how you drug it, how you torture it, no matter what means you use, it's impossible for you to reveal anything, even an unintentional slip of the tongue. Now, suppose I want to contact Comrade Embrook.I don't know anything about him.He may live in Singapore, or he may be the salesman in the shop near my house.I don't have to download layers and hope he gets the message.I just give Mike a call and he connects me to Embrook right away without giving me the number. Or let's say I need to speak to one of our comrades who's getting ready for a cartoon we're about to release in every video store on the moon.I don't know who he is, but I need to talk to him because of a situation. I'm calling Mike.He knew everything—I was connected to the comrade in no time—and he knew it was a call arranged by Adam Selene, no questions asked. "I'm Comrade Bock"—he doesn't know me, but the initial "B" tells him I'm someone important—"we have to make such and such a change. Please tell your team leader and ask him to check, act Bar." We also need to add some equipment.Some comrades don't have phones; some can only be reached at certain times; some outlying areas don't yet have phone service.Anyway, Mike knew everything—except for the few people who had had face-to-face contact with each other, the rest of us knew nothing that could endanger others. After we made the decision that "Mike should have direct voice communication with all comrades under certain circumstances", it was necessary to input more voice models for him, dress him up, and make his image more fleshed out , more in line with the role of "Adam Selene, Chairman of the Interim Council for a Free Moon". In fact, Mike does need more voice models, because he only has one speech synthesizer, and his brain can talk to a dozen people at the same time, or even a hundred people (not sure how many).Just like a chess master can play fifty people at the same time, the only difference is that Mike can talk to many more people at the same time, much more. As the organization grew, Adam Selene's calls became more frequent, creating a bottleneck effect that hindered communication that was critical long before we acted. In addition to importing more sound models for him, I also added a silent mode for him.Maybe some crappy computer technician happened to walk into the computer room while we were on the phone with Mike.If the main control computer is found to be talking to itself, no matter how stupid people are, they will become suspicious. A speech analysis synthesizer is an old-fashioned device.The human voice is a mixture of hums and hisses, even a beautiful coloratura soprano.A speech analyzer analyzes these hums and hisses to create models of the sounds that computers can read.A synthesizer is a little box that also produces hum and hiss sounds, and controls that change those two elements to match those models.People can also use a speech synthesizer, which sends out a synthetic sound.A properly programmed computer can quickly and easily synthesize a clear voice that is no different from speaking to you. The sound on a telephone line is actually an electrical signal, not a sound wave.Mike talking on the phone doesn't actually have to go through the audio part of the speech synthesizer at all.Sound waves are only needed by the person on the other end of the phone.Mike in the government complex didn't need to make any noise at all, so I planned to mute them so that the danger of being detected would be eliminated. I did it at home first, using the number three arm most of the time.The result of my efforts was that I made a box into which twenty sound circuits were squeezed, while eliminating the audio part.When I was done, I called Mike to inform him that he was "ill," a disease that would make Warden restless.I will wait for the news after that. We've played the 'fake' trick before, not long after the riot in Stilage Hall.As soon as I knew I wasn't under suspicion, I went back to work.It was Thursday, the same week that Alvarez put his records of the unrest into the Zebra archives.He listed about a hundred names in the document (the total number of people who attended the meeting that day was about three hundred), including Short McKerang, Wyoh, the Professor, and Finn Nelson, but not me—he The spies apparently missed me.In his own version, he described how the nine guards appointed by the Warden kept the peace and how they were murdered in cold blood.The article also mentioned three of our dead. A supplementary note was added a week later: "The notorious Luna City subversive in Singapore, Wyoming Knott, made inflammatory speeches and staged a riot on Monday, May 13. During the riot, Nine of our heroic guards unfortunately lost their lives in the line of duty. Wyoming Knott is still in Moon City and has not been apprehended. She has not returned to her hometown in Singapore. It is tentatively determined that she was buried in this battle. self-initiated massacre." The appendix acknowledged something the previous document had not said: bodies were missing, and the exact death toll was unknown. At the same time, this supplementary note also confirmed two things: Wyoh could not go home, and she could no longer be her blonde. I wasn't caught, so I started showing up again, taking customers, logging in, and pulling files from the Carnegie Library.The rest of the time was spent having Mike read out the contents of Zebra documents and other special documents.At that time, I didn't have my own phone, so I could only make calls from my room at the Fortune Hotel.Mike was bugging me a lot that week.He was like a short-tempered kid (which he was), eager to know when I was going to make a joke.If I can't make it, he's going to call and tell me. This makes me very unhappy.I had to remind myself, though: In Mike's view, analyzing jokes was as important as liberating the moon—and you can't break your word to a kid.Also, there was a worry that kept haunting me: If I went to the government complex, would they arrest me?We knew that the professor couldn't get away with it, so he could only sleep in the Fortune Hotel.The gang knew he was there, but never hunted him down.I was even more anxious when we learned later that they had begun a hunt for Wyoh.Can I get away with it?Maybe they're waiting to catch me quietly?I have to figure it out. So I called Mike and told him to fake a stomachache.He did and I was called in - no trouble.Other than showing my passport at the station gate and once again in front of the new guard at the government complex, everything was business as usual.I chatted with Mike for a while, picked a thousand jokes (I made an agreement with Mike, I explained a hundred jokes to him every three or four days, no faster), told him to clear up and return to normal.Then I headed home.Before leaving the building, I stopped by the chief engineer and sent him a bill, which included working hours, travel expenses, tool fees, material fees, and special service fees—I listed everything I could. After that, I went to see Mike once a month.I am not in danger.I go to Mike's only because they tell me to fix things that their own staff can't fix, and I always "fix" it, sometimes quickly, sometimes it takes a whole day, and many times test.Every time I am very careful, I intentionally leave traces of my work on the cover of the machine, and I also print the situation before and after the test into a file, stating where the problem is, how I analyzed it, and how I solved it.Every time I come, Mike runs smoothly.So, I became their indispensable person. So, as soon as I had a new accessory for his speech-analyzing synthesizer ready, I called him "fake it."Thirty minutes later, I got my order. This time Mike played a new trick. His "disease" was to cause drastic changes in the environment in the Warden's residence.Raise the temperature first, then lower it, a cycle of eleven minutes.Air pressure fluctuations have a much shorter cycle time, enough to cause extreme nerve tension and possibly earaches. But in a room, the temperature and pressure are actually controlled by the main control computer!In the Davis Tunnel, we use earth methods for the temperature and pressure of the entire home and farm.Each room is equipped with feedback alarms so that if something goes wrong, someone will get out of bed and manually control it until the problem is solved.The advantage of this is that once a problem occurs, the entire farm will not be affected: the cows are cold, but the corn will not have problems; the lights in the wheat field are off, but the vegetables can still be fine.Now, Mike can turn Warden's house upside down and no one knows how to fix it.It shows how stupid it is to rely on one computer for everything. Mike was delighted, it was the kind of humor he really loved and understood perfectly.I liked the joke, too, so I told him to go ahead and have fun—and I spread out the tools and took out the little black box. At this time, the computer technician on duty came over, knocked on the door and rang the bell again.I agreed unhurriedly, holding the number five arm in my right hand, deliberately exposing the remaining arm.Anyone who sees this look will feel uncomfortable, and some people will even find it disgusting. "Hey man, what the hell do you want?" I asked. “听着，”他说，“长官正在发火呢，你找到故障没有？” “请代我向长官致意，并转告他，只要我一找到出错的电路，我即使用手操作也会让他重享他那宝贵舒适的生活——前提是我不被愚蠢的问题耽搁。我已经卸下了盖板，你不会想就这么开着门站着，让灰尘跑到机器里去吧？不过管事的人是你，想开门就开吧，但要是机器因为这个出了问题，就得你自己来修理了。我可不愿离开暖和的被窝来帮这种忙。你还可以把这些话都告诉你那混蛋长官。” “伙计，说话干净点。” “管好你自己吧，小家伙。是你关门走人，还是我回月城？”我说着，像举棍子一样举着我的五号臂。 He closed the door.我其实没兴趣侮辱这个可怜虫，不过是为我们那“尽可能让每个人的日子不好过”的政策做点贡献罢了。他已经感觉到给监守长官办事不容易了，我的目的就是要让他觉得更加难以忍受。 “要我加大幅度吗？”迈克问道。 “嗯，持续折腾十分钟，然后来个急刹车。接着小幅度地波动一小时，我说的是气压。尽可能地反复无常，尽可能地猛烈。知道什么叫音爆吗？” “当然，就是指……” “不必下定义。略去主要效果，每隔几分钟晃晃他的送气管道，让它产生类似震音的效果，然后再来点他忘不了的。嗯——迈克，能让他厕所的水倒灌出来吗？” “当然。所有厕所吗？” “他有几个？” "Six." “那好……设置个程序，让水倒流，浸透他的地毯。不过要是能找到离他卧室最近的那个厕所，最好让水猛喷出来，喷到天花板上才好呢。办得到吗？” “程序设置完毕。” “很好。看好了，这是给你的礼物，宝贝儿。” 在语音合成器的音箱中刚好有点空间可以藏那个匣子，我用三号臂把它嵌了进去，花了我四十分钟。我们测试了语音分析合成器，然后我叫迈克打电话给怀娥，检测每一条线路。 整整十分钟，房间里没有任何声音。这十分钟里，我在盖板上留下了工具拆装痕迹，毕竟无论什么故障，盖板总是要打开的。我收好工具，装上六号臂，又浏览了正准备打印的一千个笑话。我发现消去语音合成器的音响部分其实没多大必要。这方面迈克早就想到了，只要有人开门，他就立即切断通话，他的反应速度至少是我的一千倍。我却把这一点给忘了。 他终于说话了：“二十个线路全部正常。我在怀娥说话过程中切换了线路，但她没有注意到任何不连贯；我给教授打了电话，向他问了好；还打到你家跟姆姆聊了会儿天；三个电话同时进行。”“那咱们就成功了。你以什么借口给姆姆打电话？” “我让她叫你给我打个电话，我说我是亚当·塞勒涅。然后就聊开了。她很健谈，跟她聊天还真不错。我们谈到了上礼拜二格列格的布道。” “你都说了什么？” “我告诉她那次布道我也去了，曼。我还将其中一段诗歌背了一遍。” “哎哟，迈克！” “没事的，曼。我告诉她我坐在后排，最后唱赞美诗的时候提前出来了。她也没多问。她明白我不愿被人看到。” 姆姆可是整个月球最好打听的女人呀。“应该没问题。不过下次可不要这么做了。嗯——不，就那么干吧。参加——监听——那些会议、讲座、音乐会之类的东西。” “除非哪个好管闲事的人手动关了我的拾音器！曼，监控那些玩意儿，我可没监控电话拿手。” “很简单啊。不用固态电子触发器，强行进入。” “那么做太野蛮，而且不公平。” “迈克，这世上哪还有公平可言。既然无法可想——” “——于是只得忍受。曼，这是个只能笑一次的笑话。” “那太遗感了。咱们不妨改一下：既然无法可想，干脆扔一边去，换上更好的。我们正在做的就是这种革命。你上次计算出来的几率是多少？” “大概是一比九，曼。” “这不是更糟了吗？” “接下来几个月情况会更糟，我们还没到真正的紧要关头呢。” “是啊，扬基队的状态也落到谷底了，简直钻进了地下室。哦，算了。还是说点别的吧。从现在开始，无论你和谁交谈，如果他去参加过讲座或者其他什么的，你就说你也参加过——回忆一些内容，让他们相信这是真的。” “记住了。可为什么呢，曼？” “你读过《红花侠》①吗？也许公共图书馆里有。” 【① 和下面的约翰·高尔特、沼泽狐都是小说或历史上著名的神出鬼没的英雄或游击队员。 】 “读过，要我再读一遍吗？” “不，不用了。你就是我们的红花侠，是我们的约翰·高尔特，我们的沼泽狐，我们的神秘人物。你在所有的地方都畅行无阻，对所有的事都了如指掌，进镇出镇从来不需要护照。你无处不在，却没一个人能看见你。” 灯光阵阵闪动，这是迈克的一阵轻笑：“很好笑，曼。一次好笑，两次也好笑，也许还能一直好笑下去！” “这是个永远好笑的玩笑。迈克，捉弄监守长官的事是什么时候停下来的？” “四十三分钟之前，不过那些爆音还在继续。” “我敢打赌，他非牙疼不可。让他再疼十五分钟，然后我报告工作完毕。” “明白。怀娥给你留了言，让你别忘了比利的生日派对。” “哎呀！那些捣乱的事都停下来，我得走了，再见吧。” 我急匆匆地冲出来。 比利是安娜最小的孩子（总共八个，三个还没结婚）。她以后再生育的可能性已经不大了。我跟姆姆一样，小心翼翼，尽量不表现出对比利的偏爱……可他确实是个讨人喜欢的孩子，他读书认字都是我教的。他长得或许有些像我。 我到总工程师办公室交了账单，并要求见他。进了门，发现总工程师情绪有些激动；看来又被监守长官数落了。 “听我说，”我说，“今天是我儿子的生日，我可不能迟到。不过，走之前必须给你看点东西。” 我从工具箱里拿出一个信封，把东西倒在桌上：一只死苍蝇，是我用滚烫的电线烤焦后带来的。在戴维斯遂道，我们对苍蝇从来防得很严，尽管如此，也会有那么一两只趁着气密闸门开着的时候从月城飞进来。这只就是在我需要的时候主动送上门来的。 “看见了吗？猜猜我在哪儿发现的？” 我拿这个假冒的证据做文章，先是就精密机器的维护长篇大论了一番，然后谈到门老开着的问题，最后告了那个值班电脑技师一状。“灰尘会损坏计算机的。昆虫更是不可容忍！可是你的值班人员却当那里是管铁站，跑进跑出。今天，那个白痴冲着我大喊大叫，两扇门都开着。下次要是再发现哪个招苍蝇的笨手笨脚的家伙动过盖板的话——算了，反正是你们的机器。不过要是老出事，我可应付不过来。我来干些杂活，只是因为我喜欢精密机器。我不能忍受眼睁睁地看着它们被人虐待！再见。” “等等，我跟你说——” “对不起，我得走了。不管你接不接受，我可不是专杀害虫的。我是个电脑技师。” 不让人说他想说的话，世上最令人沮丧的事莫过于此。如果运气好，监守长官再帮点忙，到圣诞节总工程师就应该能得胃溃疡了。 不管怎么说，我还是迟到了，只好老老实实向比利道歉。 全怪阿尔瓦雷斯，这家伙想出了个新办法，搜查离开政府综合大楼的人。因为急着要回家，我接受了骑兵的搜查，连一句难听的话也没说。可是那一千个笑话让他们不安了。 “这是什么？”其中一个问道。 “电脑纸。”我说，“测试记录。” 他的同伴也走了过来。估计他们不识字。他们想没收那些笑话，我则要求把总工程师叫来，于是他们只好放我走了。我倒没觉得不高兴。这样的事情、这样的警卫越多，人们对政府的厌恶也就越深。 鉴于党内成员有时会给迈克打电话，我们决定把他包装得更像一个真人。我关于监听音乐会、戏院之类的建议只不过是这一措施的副产品而已。迈克的声音在电话里听起来有些与众不同，这在综合大楼跟他聊天时是注意不到的。你跟人通电话时，电话里总有背景杂音，你听得到他的呼吸、心跳甚至身体移动的声音，当然一般我们不会太在意这些。即使通话时对方用了隔音罩，里面也不是完全没有噪音，那点噪音就足以“填满空间”，让你感到对方是个被周围环境包围着的人。 但这些，迈克没有。 那时，迈克的声音在音质、音色上都已经是很“人化”了，很有特点。他可以是男中音，北美日音中还夹杂点澳洲腔。当他（她）是“米歇尔”的时候，声音则是清脆、带点法国味的女高音。同时，迈克的个性也随之成熟起来。当我第一次把他介绍给怀娥和教授时，他听上去就像一个腼腆的小孩子。短短的几星期内，他不断成长，直至在我眼里成为一个和我一般年纪的男人。 迈克刚有意识时的声音模糊刺耳，讲的话我们几乎听不懂。现在却很清晰，在单词和习语的选择上也做到了前后一致——跟我通话时，他的语气就很口语化；与教授通话带点学者味；对怀娥就有了讨好、献殷勤的口吻。他可以按人们对每个成熟个体的不同看法、不同期望值进行变化。 可是迈克通话时，背景是死的，一片寂静。 所以，我们要加入背景声。迈克也是一点即通。他不会把自己的呼吸声弄得很响，通常情况下你也注意不到通话另一方的呼吸声。每一次他都要加一点修饰，比如，“对不起，曼尼，电话铃响时，我正在洗澡呢。”——这才让人听到急促的呼吸声。或者，“我刚刚正在吃饭，忙着咽下去好接电话。”自打他正儿八经地开始做“人”，甚至对我都玩起了这种花招。 我们把“亚当·塞勒涅”的情况拼凑在一起，在鸿运的房间里反复讨论：他多大年纪？What do you look like?是否结婚？家住哪里？做什么工作？有何兴趣爱好？ 最后我们达成一致：亚当，四十来岁，身体健康，精力充沛，受过良好的教育，对文理两科均有兴趣，有深厚的历史功底。他还是一名象棋选手，可是鲜有时问参赛。他的婚姻状况最普通不过，与另一位丈夫共同拥有一个妻子，有四个孩子，是家里的老大。据我们所知，他的妻子和另一位丈夫均不参与政治。 他强健、英俊，有一头银白色鬈发，父母两人中一人为第二代月球人，另一人为第三代。按月球人的标准，他很富有，在新利恩、新加坡月城和月城都有资产。在月城他有几处办公室，专门负责月城以外事务的办公室共有职员十二名，另外他的私人办公室配有一名男助手和一名女秘书。 怀娥还想弄清他与那女秘书是否有什么瓜葛。我叫她打住，告诉她那纯粹是隐私。怀娥很恼火，告诉我她才不是对别人隐私东打听西打听的人呢——我们不是想塑造一个性格丰满的角色吗？我们决定让他的办公楼位于金融区正中心三号坡道靠南的“老圆顶”。如果你了解月城，就应该记得“老圆顶”的一些办公室有窗户，在那里你可以越过圆顶俯瞰外面的景色。我想应该把这里设置为迈克通话时的背景。 我画了张楼层平面图，并在上面标明了迈克的办公室：埃特纳月球和格林堡有限公司分别位于它的两侧。我带着袖珍录音机做了实地采音，迈克则监听那里的电话，从而获取了更真实的背景音效。 从那以后，你与亚当·塞勒涅通话时的背景就不再是一片死寂了。如果是他的秘书“厄休拉”接的电话，你会听到：“塞勒涅联盟，月球要自由！”接着，她会说，“请稍等！塞勒涅先生正在接另外一个电话。”这时你会听到厕所冲水的声音，于是你明白她撒了个小小的不带恶意的谎。也有可能是亚当自己接的电话，他会说：“我是亚当·塞勒涅。自由月球。请稍等，我先把电视关了。” 接电话的也有可能是他的助手：“我是艾伯特·金瓦拉，亚当·塞勒涅的机要助理。自由月球。如果是党内事务的话……您的党内称呼是——噢，请别担心，我可以代表主席处理这些事。” 最后一种情况其实是个圈套，因为按规定，每位同志只能同亚当·塞勒涅谈事情。我们不会惩罚那些上当者，但会提醒他的支部组长，不能对这些同志委以重任。 我们的努力得到了响应。“自由月球”或“月球要自由”先是在青年人中流行起来，接着在好市民中也开始流传开来。我第一次是在商务电话里听到这些口号的。当时，我差点儿没高兴得掉了牙。我马上打电话向迈克询问这个人是不是我们的党员。结果不是。于是我建议迈克照党谱一级级查找，看是不是有人能将他吸收进我们的组织。 最有趣的响应应该算斑马文件中的那个了。在我们塑造亚当·塞勒涅后不足一个月的时间里，这个名字就被列入工贼头目的安全档案，名字后还注明：这是某个新的地下组织头头的假名。 阿尔瓦雷斯的眼线们对亚当·塞勒涅展开了调查。几个月后，他的斑马文件中的档案建成了：男，三十四至四十五岁。在老圆顶南侧有办公室，除礼拜六，每天上班时间为上午九点到下午六点，其余时间电话需要转接。根据其上下班行程从未超出十七分钟的事实，可以推断此人家在城内。家中有孩子。从事工作包括股票经纪、农场投资等。经常观看戏剧、音乐会等。可能为月城国际象棋俱乐部和月球国际象棋协会成员。午餐时间进行射击和其他高强度运动，可能还是月城运动俱乐部成员。此人爱好美食，但同时注意控制体重。具有非凡的记忆力和数学天赋，决策型人物，能迅速做出决定。 有一名探子声称自己在市戏剧团重演《哈姆雷特》时，歇幕期间曾与亚当·塞勒涅有过交谈。阿尔瓦雷斯记下了那人的描述一一他们所描述的亚当竟然与我们所设计的形象几乎完全吻合，只是没有提到鬈发。 不断有人声称获得了亚当的电话号码，但是到最后都发现是错的，这让阿尔瓦雷斯有些气急败坏。 （不是空号，空号已经用光了。迈克现在是手头有什么号用什么号，只要这个号还没分配出去就行。如果有新的电话用户占用了我们的号，只需换个号完事。） 阿尔瓦雷斯固执地认为是号码中的某一位数字出了问题，于是命令手下更换其中的数字轮流拨打，试图找到“塞勒涅联盟”的窝——迈克一直在监听阿尔瓦雷斯的办公室，所以我们听到了这些命令。于是迈克搞了个地道的迈克式恶做剧：无论阿尔瓦雷斯的手下如何改变号码，电话无一例外都打到了监守长官的寓所。结果，阿尔瓦雷斯被召了进去，被监守长官狠狠训了一通。 我不可能去指责迈克，但我警告他，这样做会让某些机警的人意识到有人在计算机上做了手脚。迈克却回答说，他们还没那么聪明呢。 阿尔瓦雷斯努力的主要成果就是，他每得到一个亚当的号码，我们就能发现一个奸细——新的奸细。那些早前已经发现的奸细我们根本就没给电话号码，而是把他们编入转着圈子互相告发的特别分会，让他们彼此揭发去吧。但在阿尔瓦雷斯的帮助下，我们很快就发现了那些新的奸细。我想，阿尔瓦雷斯对他雇来的眼线们肯定很不满意：两个失踪了，我们的组织当时已拥有六千成员，却也没能找到他们。我想是被阿尔瓦雷斯自己干掉了，也有可能是不堪盘问，死了。 塞勒涅联盟并不是我们惟一的幌子机关。月球之家比它大很多，也是一个幌子，但这家公司是确实存在的。它的主要办公地点在新加坡，但在新格勒和月城设有分豁，共有上百名职员，其中绝大多数不是党内成员，在我们所设立的机构中它的运作是最复杂的。 迈克在其总体计划中列出了一长串我们必须解决的问题。其中之一是资金问题，另外就是如何保护弹射器免遭来自太空的袭击。 第一个问题，教授曾想过抢银行，不过最后还是不情愿地打消了念头。可我们最终确实抢了银行、事务所，还有政府。这是迈克的主意，是他和教授共同努力的结果。起先，迈克并不清楚我们为什么要用钱。他无法理解金钱带来的压力，不明白金钱何以让人如此伤脑筋，这就像他对“性”一无所知一样。他手头处理着数以百万的金钱，从没想过钱会成什么问题。他最初的提议是开一张政府专用支票，这样我们想要多少就能拿多少。 教授被这个提议吓了一跳，于是向迈克解释兑现一张数额庞大，比如说面值一千万政府券的政府公款支票的危险性。 不过他们还是这么干了，只是用不同的名字在整个月球不同的地方分批进行。每家银行、事务所、商店、各种机构（包括政府当局），总之，只要是由迈克管账的，都曾为党做过“贡献”。 这其实是个累进式的诈骗案，我不懂，但教授明白其中的道理，无所不知的迈克也明白：所谓钱，大多数只是账本上的数字而已。 举个例子——无数方法中这只是九牛一毛而已：我儿子谢尔盖，十八岁，是我们的党内成员。他按指示在联邦均险公司开了个账户。之后，他不停地存存取取，每一次存取都出一点小错误。每次存款，账户上显示的存入金额总是多于他实际存入的款额，而每次取款账户显示的取款额总要少于实际取款金额。几个月后，他的这项工作地点转移到了城外，把账户转到第谷信托投资公司。此时的账户资金已涨至原先数目的三倍，他把这笔钱的绝大部分提出来，上交给他的组长。迈克完全清楚谢尔盖应上交的数目，但是（因为他们都不知道亚当-塞勒涅和银行的簿记员是同一个人）组织还是要求每个人向亚当汇报交易情况——虽然这种做法本身不甚诚实，但实施者本人却必须诚实。 这笔钱大约有三千新加坡元。把它放大好几百倍，你就应该对我们做的事大致有点概念了。 我无法描述迈克为了隐瞒成千上万起这类偷盗事件而在做账时使用的那些骗术、花招。我只知道，在审计人员眼里，机器是永远诚实可靠的。他会进行测试性运行来检测它们是否运行正常——但他不会想到，在机器本身已经不可靠的情况下，测试并不能证明什么。而且，迈克的盗窃行为从未大到足以阻碍经济运行的地步。就像抽了五百毫升的血，这个量根本不足以伤害捐赠者的身体。这些钱来源广泛，我也说不清蒙受损失的到底是谁，但是整个计划让我觉得心里很不踏实。从小到大，所有人都教我要诚实，除了对政府。教授声称，发生的实际上是一场轻微的通货膨胀，因为我们把偷来的钱重新投入了月球经济。我知道迈克对这些钱都一一作了记录，革命后这一切都将得到补偿，不过到那时偿还这笔经费将不再困难，因为我们再也不必受政府的肆意榨取了。 良心只好让它睡大觉了。通观历史，为战争筹饷，没有哪个政府不欺诈百姓。相比之下，我们的作为实在算不了什么——革命也是一场战争啊。 这笔钱几经转手后（每次迈克都会让它增值一点），最后成为月球之家公司的主要财政来源。这是个混合公司，一方面从事信托投资，另一方面从事债券业务。那些顶着“风险资本家”美名的担保人只管大笔购买赃款转化的债券，丝毫不管这家公司的账目。因为替公司做账的是迈克，大家都知道，电脑是最诚实、最清廉的。 不管怎么说吧，这家公司的股票在新加坡月城交易所上市了，同时还在苏黎士、伦敦和纽约上市。《华尔街周刊》称它为“一项诱人的、高风险高回报的投资，有着惊人的增长潜力”。 月球之家公司还是一家工程开发公司，有许多工程项目，大多是合法项目。不过它最主要的任务是秘密建造另一个弹射器。 这项工程不可能保密。采购零部件，建造氢聚变发电站（我们一开始就否定了利用太阳能，原因不言自明），这些行动不可能掩人耳目。所有零部件都从匹兹堡订购，加州大学标准件。我们很乐意付给他们一大笔预付款以保证最上乘的机器品质。同样，要造一个感应场长达几公里的定子①，不引起别人的注意是不可能的。更重要的是，随便-什么大工程，你不可能不招募一大批工人，同时又不被外人察觉。当然，弹射器大多是空的，弹射端的定子环彼此之间也隔着很远，但就算这样，以政府的三级弹射器为例，长度加在一起足有一百公里，在任何一张月球地图上，它都是一个地标。不仅如此，因为它的庞大体积，即便不用高倍天文望远镜人们也能从地球上看见并拍到它。在雷达显示屏上它显示得清清楚楚。 【① 发电机、涡轮等机器的主要部件之一，转子绕其旋转。 】 我们造的弹射器短一些，只够得上十级。即便如此，它也有三十公里长，根本隐蔽不了。 所以，我们采用了爱伦·坡小说《被偷的信》中所使用的方法。 我曾对迈克无休止地看小说产生过疑问，不知道他能从中获得什么奇思妙想。后来才知道，他从这些故事中可以体验人类的生活，远比他在现实中体会到的多。小说向他展示了完整的人类生活，而普通人对这种生活往往熟视无睹，认为理所当然，只不过是过日子罢了。除此之外，迈克还从那些他称为“非真信息”的小说中获得了许多好点子。掩蔽弹射器的方法就是他从爱伦·坡那里学来的。 这可是正儿八经的隐藏；弹射器必须置于地下，这样它就不会被眼睛或雷达发现。但隐藏方式必须巧妙，在月球表面的隐藏点一定要保密。 可是，要隐藏这么个大怪物，还有那么多工作人员，到底该怎么办呢？这么说吧：假设你住在新利恩，你知道月城在哪儿？当然，在克里西姆东边，每个人都知道。可是，纬度、经度是多少呢？Ok?找参考书查一查喽！如果你连这个都不清楚，那你上星期是怎么找到那儿的？哈哈，伙计，没必要搞那么清楚。我直接乘管铁，然后在托里切利转车，睡一会就到了。寻找确切位置是管铁的事。 明白了吗？实际上你并不知道月城在哪里！你只是到达管铁南站后走出管铁舱而已，月城在哪里你根本不清楚。 这就是我们掩蔽弹射器的方法。 在昂德兰海地区，“每个人都知道”。但它实际所处的位置与我们所说的位置往往会差上一百公里左右，或偏东，或偏南，或偏西，或偏北，或者以上方位的组合。 到现在，或许你可以在参考书上找到它的具体方位——结果书上说的仍旧是错误的。隐藏弹射器的位置在月球至今还极少有人知晓。 从太空中，不管你是用肉眼俯瞰还是用雷达追踪，你都找不到它。那是个庞大的、说不清形状的洞，与月球上成千上万个其他山洞没有差别。弹射器藏于地下，随时可以发射。地上部分则是一座山脉，其貌不扬，不会引起任何怀疑，自然也不会有火箭光顾了。 然而，无论是在建设中还是在建设后，那里始终有许多人。连监守长官都来过，还是格列格带他参观的。监守长官坐着邮政飞船来了。他的电子人收到了坐标图和一束雷达信号，借助这些，他才安全降落——降落点其实离掩藏点已经很近了。可是从那里出发必须乘罗林冈运输车过来，我们的车同过去从恩斯维尔到贝鲁迪的客车不同；它们原本都是货车，上面没有供人欣赏风景的窗子。加上一路颠簸得很厉害，得把乘客牢牢绑在座位上才行。监守长官要求坐进驾驶室，可是——不好意思，先生！——驾驶室只能坐下司机和助手，要保持车辆平稳，得两个人共同努力才行。 三个小时后，他没有了解任何情况就打道回府了。在那里他只待了一个小时，对于为什么钻这些洞、地下等待挖掘的资源价值几何这类话题他毫无兴趣。 工人和其他人没有监守长官那么重要，他们是通过四通八达的冰矿坑道来这儿的。走这些路线，骗过他们就更容易了。如果在行李中携带惯性导航仪，找到隐藏点还是可能的——不过我们的安全措施很严密。还真出了个随身携带导航仪的人，不过这个人因增压服破裂意外身亡了。他的遗物被送回月城，那个导航仪上显示的都是些无关痛痒的东西，因为事情发生后我就带着我的三号臂匆匆赶了过去。在氮气状态下，拆开导航仪然后重新封好，不会留下任何痕迹的——当然，工作的时候我戴着氧气面罩，在那种气压条件下，可不敢闹着玩儿。 我们在这里还接待了来自地球的重要人物，有几个还是政府的高层官员。这次他们挑选了好走一些的地下线路。我猜监守长宫提醒过他们了。可即使是那条线路，也有一段三十公里的路程需要乘坐罗林冈运输车。其中有一位来自地球的客人，多里安博士，是位物理学家和工程师，一看就知道是个找麻烦的。路上，卡车翻了——那个傻蛋司机想抄近路一结果，风景看不成了，头灯也给砸烂了。我们派了两位党内成员为他驾车，结果可怜的多里安博士在一座尚未封顶的浮石圆顶小屋里待了七十二个小时，缺氧加上过量的辐射，最后他病倒了，不得不被送回月城。 其实，让多里安博士四处看看也无妨。即便看了，他也发现不了我们的含糊其辞，注意不到我们所说的位置与我们实际所处的位置之间的偏差。哪怕没有太阳，也没有几个人会穿着增压服去看星星；哪怕看了，也没有几个人能看懂——如果没有帮助，没人能确定自己在地面的方位，除非他有相关仪器，而且懂得如何使用这些仪器，同时他还必须有对数表以及计时工具。即使用最原始的办法，至少也得有八分仪、对数表和一块精密手表。所以，我们甚至鼓励客人到地面上去看看。当然，如果有人带了八分仪或者类似于八分仪的现代仪器，他肯定会意外身亡。 对于那些奸细，我们不会让他们意外身亡。我们让他们留下来，把重活分配给他们。他们的报告迈克都能看到。有一个奸细报告说他敢肯定我们找到了铀矿，在当时的月球上，这种东西还不为人知，中央工程更是好多年以后的事了。还有一