About then, Crater heard a weak cheer and looked over his shoulder and saw the Umlap women and children were the source. The women were dressed in new skirts and blouses, the daughters in coveralls. Their hair was washed and combed and glistened in the lights of the stadium. “Listen to them,”
Crater said. “They haven’t given up.”
“Who are they?” Irish asked while Claddy also studied the women.
Crater told the two Irishmen who they were. “I didn’t know we were playing this game for them,” Claddy said.
“Does that mean you might play harder?” Crater asked.
“Of course,” Irish said. “An Irishman always helps the ladies. That’s the way we roll.”
Crater had renewed hope, especially since Maria trotted on the field, replacing Carlos. “Let’s do this,” she said.
The Aces shoveled off to the Truckers. Irish received it and Claddy ran up the ramp, whipped through the pipe, and emerged on the roof. Irish tossed Claddy the ball who shoveled it in, slung it across to Captain Teller who hit it downfield.
Crater caught it on his shovel, bounced it for a fast run, then shot it to Petro who leapt to catch it, and shoveled it to Maria who slammed it past Ace’s goalie. Score!
Two more times the Truckers scored, picking up the extra points. By the third and final period, the score was tied, 21–21.
Crater was sure the Truckers had the momentum, but the Aces came roaring back, keeping the ball on the roof as they ran up the ramp, bursting out and slamming the ball into the goal.
They got the extra point and were ahead by seven points.
The clock was ticking down. The Truckers tried a desperate maneuver, all of them racing to the roof and shoveling the ball between them as they fell to the floor. As soon as his feet touched the field, Claddy ran up the tube, caught the ball while performing a flip, and drove it into the goal. If they went after the single point, the game would be tied up again.
Crater chose to go for the win, one-on-one. Mayor Trakk was the goalie, Irish the attacker. Irish came running at the ball, scooped it up, leapt with it, and swung halfway. The mayor threw himself to where the ball would have gone except Irish deliberately missed it, spun all the way around, switching his shovel to his left hand to bat the ball in the opposite direction.
At one hundred and fifty miles per hour, Mayor Trakk had no chance to recover. The Truckers were ahead 30–28.
The clock ran down, the buzzer sounded, and the Truckers ran off the field, holding their shovels aloft in triumph. At the sidelines, Crater was hugged by the Umlap women, all of whom smelled sweet and looked marvelous—the power of soap and water.
Crater and Captain Teller walked over to have a word with the mayor to see if he was going to keep his end of the bargain. Mayor Trakk reluctantly shook their hands. “I think you had some ringers in those two Irish lads. And the girl. The Colonel’s granddaughter? She’s a terror.”
“Yes, she is,” Teller said. “Now, can we pay our taxes and leave? And take the Umlap women with us?”
“You may not think much of how we run things here,” the mayor said, “but we don’t renege on a bet.”
Captain Teller grinned and went off to get things organized.
The queen came over, and the mayor couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Would you mind introducing us, Crater?” He added, “I’m a bachelor, you know.”
Crater saw no harm in it, so he introduced the mayor to the queen who shyly batted her eyes.
“May I offer you dinner, madam?” Mayor Trakk asked.
Queen Talks No Nonsense frowned deeply, then said, “You may, indeed. I think we have much to discuss.”
And off they went, arm in arm, across the field while Crater watched incredulously. Petro sidled up next to him and Crater said, “Just when I think I’ve got them figured out, I discover I don’t know a thing about women.”
“Who does?” Petro replied. “They are the strangest creatures there are. Give me a deck of cards anytime. You might lose your money but at least you keep your mind.”
Captain Teller was gathering his drivers from the stands, herding them toward the dustlock to get their trucks ready to go. “Two hours!” he yelled. “Two hours and we’re on the road!”
Petro joined the others while Crater headed for the dispensary to say good-bye to Mr. Justice.
:::
TWENTY-SIX
The convoy moved out in the desired two hours, including the motorbarn with a revived Ellis Justice at the wheel and a rested Pegasus in his domicile. When Crater went to the clinic, he found Justice’s bed empty and the head nurse flustered. She even had a tendril of hair hanging from beneath her perfectly starched cap, although it was slightly askew. “Mister Justice said he had a convoy to catch,” she said. “I told him he was still too ill to go anywhere. Then he took my hand and kissed it and told me I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and that he intended to return and marry me.” She put her hand to her cheek. “Then he kissed me on my cheek and was off. When do you think he might return?”
Crater didn’t know when and said so, then went off to Clara’s to see how the gillie was faring. “It’s still sick,” Clara said, handing it over wrapped in a blue kerchief. “But I think I perceive a little more life in it.”
“Has it said anything?”
“It said your name and Armstrong City before lapsing back into its little coma. What you should do is keep it warm and hope for the best. It’s a sweet gillie for a gillie. Otherwise, I’m sure it’s untrustworthy as they all are.”
“That’s why they’re illegal,” Crater said in unison with Clara, then headed for the convoy in time to see Justice walking Pegasus up the ramp into the motorbarn.
“The head nurse said you were too sick to leave, Mister Justice,” Crater said while he helped get Pegasus comfortable.
“Ah, isn’t she a pretty thing?” Justice chuckled. “I was always a sap for a woman in uniform. Anyway, the Peg and I need to get on back to Armstrong City. We’ll stay there until this crowhopper business is sorted out.”
Crater removed the plaston girdle from Pegasus and placed it in the sanitizer. “I hope you’re right about the Colonel taking care of those crowhoppers.”
“Well, he’s a capitalist of the old order, the kind that builds companies and, if need be, nations too,” Justice replied. “You could do worse than hitching your star to him.”
Crater thought about that, then said, “If you ever need somebody to work for you and the Peg, sir, please think of me.”
Justice beamed and nodded his shaggy head. “Aye, I will, son. You’d make a fine addition, and I know Pegasus would love to have you around. Tell you what. When we get to Armstrong City, I’ll have a talk with Deep Space Suits. But for now, are you going to be able to make the Cycler?”
“If all goes well from here, yes.”
“Good. A man should honor a promise made.”
Crater left the motorbarn, feeling a little dazed. He hadn’t meant to ask Justice for a job but it had just popped out. And now that it had, he felt good about it. Maybe his life wasn’t on the Moontown scrapes after all. But if that proved true, it didn’t change his determination to get to the Cycler on time.
And take care of Maria.
The convoy moved away from Aristillus, all the trucks in fine condition, the drivers in good moods, but Captain Teller was worried as always. Crater and Maria zipped ahead on the scout. The long shadow was coming inexorably at them but nothing could be done about that. Above might be crowhoppers but the convoy was moving, and that was all that counted.
Ahead lay the Russians’ Sea of Serenity and then the Ocean of Tranquility. Once there, the convoy would make the dash to Armstrong City.
The Umlap women and their daughters had all hitched rides in various trucks. The women proved to not only be excellent drivers but required little sleep. It didn’t take long before the drivers were arguing over who got the women in their cabs. The deciding factor eventually was
who paid the women the most.
The one exception was Queen No Nonsense Talker who had decided to stay in Aristillus, a guest of the mayor who had promised to put together a little army and march on Baikal to reclaim the town for the queen. Crater was confident she would do fine.
The dustway and the surrounding plain turned dark gray, then black as coal. The volcanic dust filtered into hubs, wheels, axles, and gears and poured over the trucks, scouring their paint, even seeping inside the cabs. Suits and helmets were required.
Teller pushed the convoy past Linné, an impact crater that was nearly a perfect circle three miles in diameter. Its bowl was a quarter-mile deep and its ejecta was milk white. Well ahead of the convoy, Crater and Maria had time to climb its lip, marveling at the perfection of the impact.
Then they sat on the lip and scanned the dustway southward. That was when Crater spotted the glint of something metallic in the sky. With the long shadow approaching, the sun was low and the silvery flash was just for an instant. It could have been anything, but he couldn’t shake his fear that it might be a jumpcar containing crowhoppers. Maria patted the rifle Crater had given her and said, “We’ll fight them off if they come.” Her smile was proud. “Whoever hired them must really hate my grandfather. I imagine those creatures don’t come cheap, but we’ll get our heel-3 through.”
“I don’t think they’re after our heel-3,” Crater said. “I think they’re assassins.”
“Really? Who are they trying to assassinate?”
“Maybe me.”
Crater half expected Maria to laugh. Instead, she took on a thoughtful expression. When she didn’t say anything, Crater became suspicious. “Do you know the real reason I’m on this convoy?”
“Of course. I’m a Medaris. We keep no secrets in our family.
And I think you may be right. The crowhoppers could very well be trying to kill you.”
“How would they know about me?”
“There are spies everywhere.”
“And who hired them? Do you know that?”
Maria hesitated, then said, “There are a number of candidates. General Nero, for instance. He opposes the monorail, but he’s not the only one. There are organizations on Earth who’d like to come up here and take over. The monorail would show that we’re in charge of our own destiny. It would only be the first one too. Grandfather plans on eventually linking all the towns together with a network of monorails.”
Crater had sudden insight. “That would put him in control of all transportation on the moon!”
Maria shrugged. “Who better?”
Crater thought it over and reached no conclusion except for one. “If the crowhoppers are after me, why doesn’t the Colonel send a jumpcar to carry me to Armstrong City? I know his is broken but he could hire another one.”
“You don’t understand, Crater.”
“Enlighten me.”
Maria sighed. “Look, two men assigned by my grandfather to pick up the package have already been murdered in Armstrong City. It’s impossible to keep you safe there. We think the convoy’s still the best place for you to be, even with the crowhoppers around. At least we don’t have to worry about an elk sticker in your back. Anyway, we don’t know for sure they’re onto you. It may be the crowhoppers were hired to keep Moontown’s heel-3 off the market. Who knows? We’ve decided to just keep you where you are.”
“Who’s this ‘we’ you keep talking about?”
“My family, Crater. We need that package to be delivered.”
Crater was beginning to feel like a pawn in a game he was just beginning to understand was being played. “Do you know what I’m to pick up?” he asked.
Maria bit her lip, then said, “Yes, but I don’t think you should know. If you were captured . . .”
“If I was captured, they might torture the truth out of me.
Is that it?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Crater.”
“But don’t they already know?”
“We don’t know what they know.”
Crater didn’t know what to say or do. He’d never been caught up in such a web of lies.
Maria provided a possibility of what to do. “I think it’s time we shared a kiss.”
“We’re wearing space helmets,” Crater pointed out.
“Remember what we almost did when we raced? Let’s give it a try for real this time.”
This they did, pushing their helmets together and kissing the plaston between their lips. “I really like you, Crater,” she said.
“I really like you too,” he replied, wanting to say much more.
“Come on,” she said, laughing. She pushed off the rim, sliding on her backpack all the way down until she ended up beside her fastbug. Crater did the same, the ejecta powder slippery as wax. He spun around and around and slid into her. She laughed, got up, dusted herself off, and jumped into her fastbug, spinning wheels as she drove back onto the dustway.
Crater watched after Maria, his heart singing, then hurried to catch her. But then he stopped and gave everything some thought. He concluded he was in deep scrag. The Medaris family had decided he should be on the convoy, even though they knew he could be killed. Lies of omission had definitely been told, and Maria was probably in on every one of them.
He’d have to think about that. Or maybe he’d get killed before he could think about much of anything.
It worried him, either way.
:::
TWENTY-SEVEN
The dustway went past the crater named Bessel, where there was a small inn and way station. Captain Teller called for a brief halt to allow the solar panels to soak up the last rays of the sun before the long shadow claimed its victory for two weeks. To give Pegasus some exercise, Crater had ridden him all day, the warhorse easily keeping up with Maria in her fastbug. Crater even allowed her to ride and was astonished to see how she took to the saddle. “I’m not a moon rube like you, boy,” she said as Pegasus leapt over the small craters that covered the ground at the approaches to Bessel. “I learned to ride when I was but a child and on horses not so polite as Pegasus, but mean little vicious horses anxious to throw their riders off and stomp them to death.”
Crater wasn’t certain if Maria was kidding or not although he suspected she was. In any case, she was a good rider and the Peg seemed to enjoy having her in the saddle. His leaps were almost like flying with Maria urging him on. Crater was pleased to be the link between them.
The convoy crossed into the long shadow when it entered the Dorsa Lister hills, a corrugated terrain of low mounds and shallow valleys. Sensing trouble, Crater put Pegasus back into the motorbarn, and he and Maria went back to their fastbugs.
In the darkness, it was excruciating driving for the scouts as they strained their eyes for cracks or boulders in the road.
Crater also tried to watch the sky. He saw occasional lights but they were unidentifiable. Possibly, they were merely the flash of sunlight off the solar panels of satellites or jumpcars traveling out to the heel-3 towns.
The dustway turned east, preparatory to rounding Plinius and going southerly to Plinius Village, the town that rested at its base. If it could safely be reached, the convoy would only have a short run to Armstrong City and the next phase of Crater’s journey.
Captain Teller brought up the rear in the chuckwagon, shepherding the trucks and their precious cargo along. He was uncommonly happy. It had been a rough run, but with Plinius Village only a few hours away, he could almost taste the end of perhaps his last convoy. The glow on the horizon told its story, of the town ahead, of a day of rest, of a chance to talk to the Colonel and give him the good news that very soon his heel-3 and the boy would be delivered on time.
And then, there it was, Plinius Village in their sights.
Maria led the way into the parking area with Crater dropping back to run along the length of the convoy, whooping the good news. The drivers whooped with him and the Umlap women trilled their tongues. “Settle down, people,” Teller called o
n the common freq. “Let’s act like we’ve done this before.”
The trucks were parked, and the maintenance crews from Plinius Village swarmed over them. Crater stayed behind to talk to the mechanics about repairs that needed to be made.
A few hours later, he entered the Plinius Village tubes, which were not tubes at all but big geodesic domes. Beneath the largest dome, there was a park with real trees and flowers and winding bricked paths. Crater had never smelled air so sweet and cool. He walked along the path with the gillie, still silent and still in the holster on his arm.
“So, this is where you’re hiding out.” It was Maria walking into the dome. She inhaled deeply. “Oh my! It smells like Earth in here!”
“Is this what Earth really smells like?” Crater asked.
“In those places where nature has its way, yes.”
Maria linked her arm in his. “I have a surprise. I’ve decided to go aboard the Cycler with you. We’ll pick up the package together.”
Crater didn’t like the sound of that. “I think it’s too dangerous.”
“I doubt seriously the Cycler will be more dangerous than this convoy. Anyway, I’ll be your bodyguard.”
Crater shook his head. “But—” which was all he got to say, mainly because Maria wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, this time with no plaston between them.
“We’ll make it fun,” she said and walked off, waving at him over her shoulder.
The kiss had been like an electric shock to Crater followed by paralysis. Then, to his delight, the gillie crawled out of its holster to lie on his shoulder. It still looked tired and sick, if it could look any way at all, but it stared without eyes at him and the plants and the flowers and the geodesic dome, then crawled back into its holster and went very still.
:::
TWENTY-EIGHT
The convoy plunged on into the darkness, Plinius Village miles behind, trillions of stars crowding the sky, the dustway a pale white track through the gray dust of the Ocean of Tranquility. Crater, far ahead on the scout, trundled down the dustway with Arago Crater passing to his right. On its rim blinked the lights of a communications tower.
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