Sixth Column
Robert Heinlein
A NATIONAL SURVEY . . .
He gradually built up a picture of a people being systematically and
thoroughly enslaved, a picture of a nation as helpless as a man
completely paralyzed, its defenses destroyed, its communications
entirely in the hands of the invaders.
Everywhere he found boiling resentment, a fierce willingness to fight
against the tyranny, but it was undirected, uncoordinated, and, in any
modern sense, unarmed. Sporadic rebellion was as futile as the scurrying
of ants whose hill has been violated. PanAsians could be killed, yes,
and there were men willing to shoot on sight, even in the face of the
certainty of their own deaths. But their hands were bound by the greater
certainty of brutal multiple retaliation against their own kind. As with
the Jews in Germany before the final blackout in Europe, bravery was not
enough, for one act of violence against the tyrants would be paid for by
other men, women, and children at unspeakable compound interest.
SIXTH COLUMN
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in
this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents
is purely coincidental.
Copyright (c) 1949 by Robert A. Heinlein. Reprinted from Astounding
Science Fiction, (c) 1941 by Street and Smith Publications Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
portions thereof in any form.
A Baen Book
Baen Publishing Enterprises PO. Box 1403 Riverdale, NY 10471
ISBN: 0-671-72026-0
Cover art by John Melo


First Baen printing, January 1988 Fourth Baen printing, July 1995
Distributed by SIMON & SCHUSTER 1230 Avenue of the Americas New York, NY
1002
Printed in the United States of America
For John S. Arvvine
CHAPTER ONE
"What the hell goes on here?" Whitey Ardmore demanded.
They ignored his remark as they had ignored his arrival. The man at the
television receiver said, "Shut up. We're listening," and turned up the
volume. The announcer's voice blared out: "-- Washington destroyed
completely before the government could escape. With Manhattan in ruins,
that leaves no --"
There was a click as the receiver was turned off. "That's that," said
the man near it. "The United States is washed up." Then he added,
"Anybody got a cigarette?"
Getting no answer, he pushed his way out of the small circle gathered
around the receiver and felt through the pockets of a dozen figures
collapsed by a table. It was not too easy, as rigor mortis had set in,
but he finally located a half-empty pack, from which he removed a
cigarette and lighted it.
"Somebody answer me!" commanded Ardmore. "What's happened here?"
The man with the cigarette looked him over for the first time. "Who are
you?"
"Ardmore, major, intelligence. Who are you?"
"Calhoun, colonel in research."
"Very well, Colonel -- I have an urgent message for your commanding
officer. Will you please have someone tell him that I am here and see to
it that I am taken to him?" He spoke with poorly controlled exasperation.


Calhoun shook his head. "Can't do it. He's dead." He seemed to derive
some sort of twisted pleasure from the announcement.
"Huh?"
"That's right -- dead. They're all dead, all the rest. You see before
you, my dear Major, all that are left of the personnel of the Citadel --
perhaps I should say of the emergency research laboratory, department of
defense, this being in the nature of an official report." He smiled with
half his face, while his eye took in the handful of living men in the
room.
Ardmore took a moment to comprehend the statement, then inquired, "The
PanAsians?"
"No. No, not the PanAsians. So far as I know, the enemy does not suspect
the existence of the Citadel. No, we did it ourselves -- an experiment
that worked too well. Dr. Ledbetter was engaged in research in an
attempt to discover a means of --"
"Never mind that, Colonel. Whom does command revert to? I've got to
carry out my orders. "
"Command? Military command? Good Lord, man, we haven't had time to think
about that yet. Wait a moment."
His eye roved around the room, counting noses. "Hm-m-m -- I'm senior to
everyone here-and they are all here. I suppose that makes me commanding
officer."
"No line officers present?"
"No. All special commissions. That leaves me it. Go ahead with your
report."
Ardmore looked about at the faces of the half a dozen men in the room.