by Ben Bova
“You’re not still angry at her,” McClintock said. But he could see that his father plainly was.
“Her and that bastard Randolph. She’s thrown the contract for assembling her telescopes in space to his Astro Manufacturing Corporation.”
“I didn’t know…”
His face hardening brutally, the elder McClintock promised, “I’m going to break that Aussie bitch if it’s the last thing I do. And you’re going to help me do it!”
ANITA HALLECK
Dutifully, Carter McClintock shuffled down the narrow, low-ceilinged corridor to Farside’s reception area, out at the end of the underground facility’s central tunnel. He wore the best of the three suits he had brought with him to the Moon: midnight blue jacket and trousers over an off-white turtleneck shirt. He took special pains to scuff along in the apelike shamble that substituted for normal walking in the one-sixth gravity of the Moon. He had no intention of stumbling and embarrassing himself in front of Anita Halleck.
Maybe the lobber will crash on landing, he thought. Then Father would finally be rid of her.
But it was too much to hope for. As McClintock sat nervously in the tight little reception chamber, he watched the wall-screen display of the incoming spacecraft falling out of the starry sky like a squat, cone-shaped rock. Then its rocket engines flashed, stuttering, and its descent slowed. It landed squarely on the blast-darkened concrete pad out there on the floor of Mare Moscoviense, all in complete, utter silence.
McClintock got to his feet as the access tube trundled like an oversized caterpillar from the airlock of the reception center to the main hatch of the lobber. The lone clerk got up from behind his desk, checked the readout lights on the control panel set into the stone wall beside the heavy metal hatch, then tapped a square green key set into its bottom row. The hatch sighed open and swung slowly inward.
Peering down the access tube, McClintock saw that only one person was approaching: Anita Halleck, tall and slim, with a long sweep of chestnut hair draped dramatically over one shoulder. She was wearing a one-piece coverall of metallic golden fabric that seemed to glow slightly as she made her way up the slightly flexing tube. She’s the only passenger, he realized. She commandeered a lobber flight just for herself.
He made himself smile for her. “Good to see you again, Anita,” he said, stretching a hand in greeting.
She smiled minimally as she stepped through the hatchway and accepted his hand gracefully.
“Hello, Carter,” she said. “How’s your father?”
She is a bitch, McClintock said to himself. Aloud, he replied, “Still pretty sore about you, I’m afraid.”
She shrugged. “The course of true love ne’er did run smooth.”
Or false love, either, he added silently.
“I was rather surprised to learn you were here,” said Anita Halleck. “I didn’t realize you were interested in astronomy.”
“I’m here to help Professor Uhlrich, sort of an aide to him.”
She nodded knowingly. “So your father is going to invest in Uhlrich’s project, then?”
McClintock replied casually, “Perhaps. We’ll see.”
She turned her attention to the clerk, who had slid back behind his desk; he took the data chip Halleck handed him and snapped it into his desktop computer.
Within a few minutes McClintock was leading Anita Halleck down the gloomy corridor toward the cell that would be her quarters during her visit.
“I had expected Professor Uhlrich to greet me,” she said. “Not his underling.”
Ignoring the barb, McClintock replied, “He’ll see you in his office, of course. He thought you’d like to get settled and perhaps freshen up a bit first.”
“I see.”
She was a handsome woman, McClintock realized all over again as they strode along the corridor. Almost his own height, slim waisted and long legged. Her gold-glowing coverall was modest enough, buttoned at the throat, wrists, and ankles. It wasn’t tight, exactly, but somehow it displayed the supple body inside it quite provocatively. Admiring those cheekbones and almond eyes and those pouty lips, McClintock thought she could easily have been a fashion model. Or a vid star. With a toss of her head she swung her long straight hair off her shoulder. It fell halfway down her back.
Yes, he said to himself, it’s no wonder that Father went off the deep end over her.
“I’m afraid the accommodations here are rather spartan,” McClintock said apologetically.
“I’ll only be here overnight,” she said. Her voice was low, warmly melodious. Inviting? McClintock asked himself. She can be damnably seductive when she wants to be.
He showed her the room that had been assigned to her. She took it in with a single brief glance.
Turning back to McClintock, she said, “I presume my bag will be brought here.”
“Of course.”
“All right then. I want to see Professor Uhlrich now.”
“Of course,” McClintock repeated.
* * *
The meeting fascinated McClintock. Uhlrich was stiffly formal with her, never budging from behind his desk. McClintock thought the professor used the desk as a barricade, to protect himself. Even when he stood he kept his fingertips in contact with the desk’s gleaming surface. For her part, Halleck sat gracefully on a chair halfway down the adjoining table, swiveling it to face the professor. She never allowed herself to get close enough to shake hands with him.
After politely holding her chair for her, McClintock took the seat next to her, one place farther away from Uhlrich.
“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Halleck,” said Uhlrich, with all the sincerity of a headwaiter.
“I’m delighted to be here,” she replied, equally hollow.
Brushing a fingertip along his trim silver beard, Uhlrich said, “I was very sorry to learn of your husband’s death.”
She made a sigh. “He was very old, very frail. It was something of a blessing.”
McClintock recalled that she had inherited a massive fortune from the man she had jilted his father for. A blessing indeed, he thought.
Uhlrich called, “Computer: orientation slideshow, please.”
Images of the three craters where the telescopes would be sited sprang up on the wall screen opposite the chairs where Halleck and McClintock were sitting.
Uhlrich began, “As you know—”
“Yes, I do know,” Halleck interrupted. “You can spare me the orientation, Professor. What I’d like is a progress report.”
“Progress report?” Uhlrich asked stiffly.
“I understand your first mirror was damaged before you could get it to its site.”
His face paling visibly, Uhlrich admitted, “Yes, that is true.”
“So what are you doing about it?”
McClintock saw a blue vein in the professor’s forehead begin to throb. This is going to be a lovely meeting, he told himself. Just perfectly lovely.
DINNER
To McClintock’s pleasant surprise, Halleck’s meeting with Uhlrich was mercifully brief. The professor sputtered a bit but finally admitted to Halleck that he was looking into the possibility of using nanotechnology to make the interferometer’s mirrors. Halleck nodded as if she’d known that all along, then got up from her chair.
Surprised, Uhlrich said, “But you haven’t told me how your own project is proceeding.”
“Oh, we’re on schedule,” she replied airily.
Uhlrich got to his feet, looking surprised, confused. “On schedule? What schedule? When do you expect—”
“The schedule was published when we began the project. You must have seen it. It’s available on our net site, if you need to refresh your memory.”
And with that, she turned toward the door. As McClintock stood up, Halleck said, “I suppose I should look in on your mirror laboratory while I’m here.” Before Uhlrich could reply, she added, “Although, if you’re going to turn to nanotechnology, I imagine your mirror lab will become superfluous.�
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Uhlrich stood behind his desk, his mouth hanging open but no words coming out of it.
Going to Halleck’s side, McClintock said, “I’ll show you the mirror lab, if you like.”
“Fine,” she said.
They left the Ulcer standing there, speechless.
* * *
At the mirror lab, McClintock was surprised to see tall, lanky Nate Oberman waiting for them, a bitter little smile on his lean face.
“Professor Uhlrich phoned and told me to show you around the lab,” Oberman said, then added, “since I don’t have anything else to do.”
McClintock heard the acid in his tone; Halleck seemed not to notice.
Oberman showed them the slowly rotating turntable and explained how the spin casting method worked. Halleck took it all in within a few minutes.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Oberman,” she said, by way of dismissal.
“My first name’s Nate, Mrs. Halleck,” said Oberman. “I’ll be leaving Farside by the end of the month. I could sure use a recommendation from somebody as important as you are. It’d help me land a decent job.”
Halleck eyed him briefly. “Are you returning to Earth?”
“Yes’m. Selene’s already turned me down. They claim I don’t have enough experience for any of the job openings they’ve got available.”
She glanced at McClintock, then said to the young man, “I’m leaving tomorrow. But call me first thing in the morning, we can talk then.”
Oberman’s narrow face broke into a triumphant smile. “I’ll phone you at seven sharp!”
Smiling back at him, Halleck said, “Make it eight. I’ll talk to you then.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
As they returned to the corridor, McClintock said, “That was very kind of you, Anita.”
She made a vague gesture with one hand. “I’m not the monster you seem to believe I am, Carter.”
“I never thought you were a monster.”
Halleck cocked an eyebrow at him and changed the subject. “I’m quite famished.”
“I’m afraid the eating facility here is rather primitive. Nothing but a cafeteria.”
“I suspected as much,” said Halleck. “That’s why I brought a couple of frozen dinners in my bag.”
“Clever lady,” McClintock said.
“Would you care to join me for dinner, Carter?”
In his mind’s eye, he saw how delightedly happy his father had been when Anita Halleck had been his rousing, laughing, adventurous mistress. It was more than showing off a trophy, McClintock thought. Father was genuinely mad about her. Until she started playing around behind his back.
Now she’s coming on to me? he asked himself. Could she be that blatant? What does she want from me?
“I have a dinner engagement,” he lied. “One of the astronomers. She’s new here.”
Halleck’s sensuous lips curved slightly. “And you’ve volunteered to show her the sights?”
Feeling slightly flustered, he answered, “Nothing like that, Anita. She’s just a kid.”
“So was I … once.”
McClintock realized that the astronomy office was a few doors down the next cross corridor. Hoping that Trudy was where she should be, he said, “Come on. I’ll introduce you to her.”
Smiling as enigmatically as the Sphinx, Halleck started along the corridor beside McClintock.
With a surge of relief McClintock saw that Trudy actually was in the astronomy office. It was one of the bigger spaces in the Farside complex, with four desks placed in the four corners of the chamber. Trudy was at the desk in the farthest corner, her eyes fixed on the wall screen to her right; it showed a complex chart of curves and alphanumerics that was incomprehensible to McClintock.
Trudy was staring at the screen so hard she didn’t notice McClintock and Halleck until they were halfway to her desk. She shot to her feet like a new recruit suddenly snapping to attention.
The contrast between the two women was extraordinary, he thought. Trudy was wearing a faded, shapeless blouse that had probably been violet when it was new, over a rumpled pair of beige slacks. Halleck was still in her metallic gold coverall, glowing like a goddess, almost a full head taller than Trudy.
“Trudy,” said McClintock, “I’d like you to meet Anita Halleck, head of the IAA’s space telescope project.”
“I know who Mrs. Halleck is,” said Trudy, her eyes on the woman. “I’m very happy to meet you.”
Halleck nodded graciously as McClintock finished the introduction. “And this is Dr. Trudy Yost, who has come here to work under Professor Uhlrich.”
Smoothly, McClintock continued, “Trudy and I are having dinner together this evening.”
Trudy’s eyes went wide for an instant, then she said, “If you’d like to join us, Mrs. Halleck…”
“Why, thank you, Trudy. I think that would be fine.”
McClintock kept his face impassive, but inwardly he wondered if Trudy would be shocked at the idea of a ménage à trois. He knew from his father’s boasting that Halleck wouldn’t be.
* * *
The cafeteria looked even dumpier than usual in McClintock’s eyes. They had to sit at one of the long tables, with the two women on either side of him. No decent chairs, he grumbled to himself, just these damned benches. The room was filling up, grubby-looking engineers and technicians lining up at the food and drink dispensers, crowding all the tables, talking and laughing with each other. McClintock imagined that none of them had ever seen the inside of a real restaurant.
And the food selection was pitiful. He had picked what purported to be a soysteak dinner platter. It looked like a pathetic mess on his tray. Trudy had helped herself to fish filets and a reasonably fresh-looking salad. Halleck had gone for the shellfish special. I wonder what she brought with her for dinner, McClintock asked himself. I’ll bet she brought champagne with her. Sadly, he concluded, I’ll never know.
As they sat shoulder to shoulder with the chatting, gobbling Farside employees, Halleck leaned slightly to speak past McClintock to Trudy. “So what are you actually doing for Jason?”
“Jason?” Trudy asked.
“Professor Uhlrich.”
“Oh! Well, we’re using the best imagery that the telescopes in Earth orbit can give us to refine the parameters of Sirius C’s density and oblateness. That can tell us a lot about the planet’s interior composition. We’re looking for indications that there might be a planetary magnetic field, a dipole field, you know, like Earth’s, and…”
On and on Trudy chattered. With some satisfaction, McClintock saw Halleck’s eyes begin to glaze over. She’s no more interested in this technobabble than I am, he realized.
ACCIDENT
The blare of the speakers set into the cafeteria’s stone ceiling interrupted Trudy’s increasingly tedious monologue.
“EMERGENCY MEDICAL TEAM TO THE MAIN AIRLOCK,” the synthesized voice demanded. “EMERGENCY MEDICAL TEAM TO THE MAIN AIRLOCK.”
Half a dozen men and women scrambled from their seats at the long tables and raced out the cafeteria’s door.
“A medical emergency?” Halleck asked, looking up at the speakers.
Several other people were heading for the door; others were talking to each other, looking worried, fearful.
Trudy shot to her feet. “Maybe they’ll need some volunteers to help them.” Without another word she started for the door also.
Frowning at the interruption, McClintock said to Halleck, “I’d better go see what this is all about.”
She stood up beside him. “Carter, you’re like the man who races to get ahead of the mob because he’s supposed to be their leader. But he doesn’t know where they’re heading.”
“They’re heading,” he said bitingly, “to the main airlock.”
He hurried in that direction, Halleck keeping pace beside him. Plenty of others were rushing down the corridor, too.
The main airlock’s locker area was crowded. Most of these people are onlookers, ru
bberneckers, McClintock thought as he shouldered his way through them.
One of the technicians, a chubby-faced redhead, growled belligerently, “Who ya shoving, mister?”
“I’m Professor Uhlrich’s deputy,” McClintock snapped. “Get out of my way.”
The man stepped aside, grudgingly.
Trudy was kneeling beside a man on the floor who was still encased in a space suit, although his helmet had been removed. Several others were gathered around the prostrate body, removing his boots, pressing a breathing mask over his face, clipping a monitor onto one of his bared fingers.
“It’s Harvey Henderson,” someone beside McClintock whispered.
“What happened?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“He was outside.”
“Something went wrong.”
“You’re a real detective, pal.”
Bending over the medics, McClintock demanded, “Who’s in charge here?”
Blocky, gray-haired Dr. Kapstein glanced up at him, her squarish face looking somewhere between annoyed and inquisitive. “I am.”
“And you are?”
“Ida Kapstein, resident physician. Who the hell are you?”
“Carter McClintock. I’m Professor Uhlrich’s number two.”
“Since when?” Dr. Kapstein asked as she returned her attention to the injured man on the floor. Others of the medical team were tugging off his space suit trousers now.
“For the past three weeks,” McClintock replied, with iron in his voice. Inwardly he realized that he hadn’t made much of an effort to make himself known to Farside’s rank and file. With more than a hundred people in the facility, he told himself, I can’t be expected to keep track of everyone’s name.
He saw that the man’s right foot was bloody. Another space-suited figure came through the airlock hatch. As she lifted off her helmet Dr. Kapstein asked her, “What happened out there, Josie?”