This is the “Future History” timeline chart included with this book. Even in person, using a magnifying glass, some of this text is illegible, but if you click the above image you’ll see a larger version that’s as good as it gets.

★★★★ Let There Be Light, 1940 (pg. 11-25)

— Wikipedia entry

True to the title, this one is about two scientists trying to build a better light bulb — but they end up creating a super-efficient solar panel instead. Electricity company monopolies are of course upset about this and try to shut the whole thing down, but the scientists beat them by revealing their method through the press to the public. The story was originally published under the pseudonym “Lyle Monroe”.

Contrasted to Heinlein’s other writings of the time, this one is surprising in that it includes a very accomplished woman scientist as one of the two main characters. It opens with one of the scientists — Archibald Douglas — making an unwanted pass at a leggy blonde in a restaurant, only to find out that she was Dr. M.L. Martin, whom he’d “naturally” assumed was a man and with whom he had an appointment later in the day. Martin overcomes her disgust at Douglas’ misogyny and the two work together well. The story also notable in that solar cells weren’t really a thing at the time. A few scientists had ideas, but this was 14 years before Bell Labs announced a six-percent efficient silicon solar cell). Overall, it’s a bit more “left” than one expects of Heinlein, including the economic views expressed by Martin relating to the danger of monopolies and powerful corporations in general.

★★★ The Roads Must Roll, 1940 (pg. 26-60)

— Wikipedia entry

Due to the need for high-speed transportation of goods and people, the country is criss-crossed by “rolling roads” — basically gigantic conveyor belts hundreds of miles long. The plot is: the technicians who work underneath these rolling roads are fed up with not being treated as well as they want, so they sabotage a road to make their demands. The director puts down the rebellion and all is well.

Note that this story was first published 16 years before the U.S. got started on its Interstate Highway system. Recognizing the country’s need for better long-distance transportation, Heinlein took a route that few would expect — especially in hindsight. Instead of superhighways (which is what we actually did), or other possibilities more up sci-fi’s alley like high-speed rail or anti-gravity, he went with a massively complex solution far more expensive than just widening the roads. One reason given in the story for going that route is that the federal government (in the story) had clamped down on petroleum supplies, claiming military priority, leaving the U.S.’s car culture nowhere to turn. (Heinlein didn’t foresee huge improvements in automobile fuel economy, nor the discovery of new oil fields at every turn.) But he did foresee and predict the urban/suburban sprawl that would accompany superhighways — in the story new shops and hotels line the rolling roads, with housing developments just beyond them, much like most interstate highways today.

Though early in the story the union’s part is written as if Heinlein believes it, he chooses as his main character one of the top brass who ends up beating the union and enacting more strict controls.

★★★ The Man Who Sold The Moon, 1950 (pg. 61-143)

— Wikipedia entry

A wealthy tycoon decides he wants to go the Moon, even if it bankrupts him. But he also wants to possess the Moon and sell rights, shares, etc., to become even more wealthy than he is now. The story is full of wheeling and dealing, dummy corporations, and expert managing of public perception. In the end, the tycoon (D.D. Harriman, who shows up in other Future History stories) doesn’t get to make the first trip because of strict weight limits on the rocket his company built — only the pilot gets to go. (Thus setting up the final story in the book, when a much older Harriman still wants to go to the Moon.)

The biggest guess Heinlein gets wrong about the future wasn’t the date (1978), but the origin. He simply didn’t believe that national governments would put so much money and effort into space travel and accomplish it before before private corporations. But the thing that bugs me most about this story is the casual forgiveness of the scams and frauds of the ultra-wealthy as long as it fulfills some childhood dream they had.

Interestingly, this novella is credited as one of the inspirations for the titling of the David Bowie song The Man Who Sold The World.

★★★★ Requiem, 1940 (pg. 144-159)

— Wikipedia entry

Here, D.D. Harriman, having failed to get to the Moon in the previous story, is an old man, still dreaming of going to the Moon. He liquidates assets and hires a friendly pilot and mechanic to outfit a rocketship to take him there, while his heirs fight in court to get him declared “senile” so they won’t lose their inheritance. It’s heartwarming and rich in several ways that the previous story wasn’t. Though it is often referred to as a “sequel” to The Man Who Sold The Moon, this story was written ten years earlier.