* * *
Jane Doe’s spacesuit is snug on me, but I’m pretty much the only option for getting into it. Khan’s too tall, Hong’s flying the ship, and Jessica and Alisa and Rich have their hands full with the medical mystery that is Joey.
So I sort of de facto draw the short straw and have to put on the suit.
Joey wakes up while I’m in the middle of suiting up, so Alisa and Rich squeeze into the cockpit with him and Hong. Jessica and Khan finish helping me get ready. We leave Jane Doe snoring in the corner.
“I’ve disabled the radio transmitter and helmet microphone,” Jessica says as she hands me Scorpion’s backup helmet, after I’ve stepped into the lower half and squirmed into the torso section and closed the seals between those two parts. “You’ll still be able to receive and hear, but just remember to respond nonverbally.”
“Right,” I say, taking the helmet. “Because I can’t do a reasonable impression of Scorpion’s voice.”
“Just let Clementine do the talking,” Khan says. “Follow her lead, look for cues—”
“I have done this before, you know,” I say, lowering the helmet onto the collar of the spacesuit and locking it into place. “This isn’t my first silent rodeo.”
“And now we can’t hear you anymore,” Khan says. She moves behind me and tugs on my life support backpack. “Seals look good. How’s your air?”
I look at the status indicators on the suit’s wristpad and give Khan a thumbs-up. This spacesuit is similar to the armored numbers I’ve worn sometimes, borrowed from either military or law enforcement inventories, but feels a little different. I suspect Jane Doe has made some of her own special modifications to better suit her mercenary lifestyle.
“Five minutes out,” Hong says over the intercom.
“Have you found the helmet visor controls yet?” Jessica asks.
I nod at her, then work the wristpad to darken the visor on the helmet, making it reflective on the other side. This feature is usually turned on to reduce glare from the naked sunlight astronauts encounter in outer space, but can also be used to hide the wearer’s face from other people, like I’m doing now.
“Sixty seconds out,” Hong announces. “Got a visual on the landing site. Putting it on your screen.”
One of the cargo bay’s wall displays lights up with a view from one of the forward cameras—Hong must have opened a sensor slot to get some bearings as we approach. We’re descending toward an industrial facility, one of the old helium-3 processing plants with large pipes going everywhere in what seem to be random paths but that are actually very specific configurations. I remember Oliver explaining to me once how the lack of atmosphere and low gravity on the Moon mean that energy companies can build structures that are less sturdy but more efficient. The Sun is shining at a low angle, casting long, dark shadows across the entire facility, making it look like some of the pipes disappear in the middle and then reemerge later from pure blackness.
“Any sign of a vehicle?” Khan asks.
“Not yet,” Hong replies. “I’m going to set us down facing away from the building, and hopefully he’ll see you from wherever he is inside when you open the ramp and step out.”
“Copy that.” Khan turns back to me. “Now remember, Kangaroo, you’re going out there alone.”
“Yes, I know. I’m not an idiot,” I say before remembering that she can’t hear or see me. I raise one hand with my thumb and index finger touching in the OK sign.
“Doctor Chu and I will be watching from just behind this partition,” Khan says, patting the slot in the wall from which a safety baffle will extend, hiding them from anyone who might be looking up the open cargo ramp. “We’ll be able to monitor you over the security vid feed. You remember the signal if you want us to intervene?”
I nod and make the hand signal we agreed on: left arm down at my side, palm facing backward, and then I make a fist and extend all my fingers three times in rapid succession. There should be no other reason for me to make that particular motion, and it should be obvious to the ship cameras watching me from behind and less noticeable to Gladys and whoever else might be watching me from the front.
“I’ve got the vid feed from your eye here,” Jessica says, holding up her tablet. “We’ll be able to see if anything goes wrong.”
Khan hands me Jane Doe’s assault rifle and helps me clip it into place on the chestplate of the spacesuit. I practice holding one hand on the grip, hoping I won’t actually have to use it. I hate putting bullets into people if there’s any other option.
Unfortunately, if Gladys meets me out in the open, I won’t be able to use the pocket-right-behind-you trick to suck her in; we’ll both be in vacuum already. And it’s going to be tricky, talking her into doing anything specific when I can’t actually talk.
The ship touches down, and Khan retreats behind the safety line at the end of the ramp. “All right, everyone get into position.”
I stay standing at the edge of the ramp while Jessica joins Khan behind the baffle. They’re both wearing spacesuits, and now they close their helmets, ready to come after me if anything goes wrong. Alisa and Rich are still in the pressurized crew cabin with Joey.
“Clear,” Hong says. “You can open the ramp when you’re ready.”
“Okay, Kangaroo,” Khan says. “Here we go.”
I give her a thumbs-up, then wait as the door slides shut behind her and Jessica and air hisses out of our section. The ramp descends, thumping gently against the Lunar surface, and I walk out into the sideways sunlight.
The abandoned factory looks more imposing from down here, at human height, than when we were flying over it. I walk forward slowly, one hand on the assault rifle clipped to my chest, the other swinging as casually as I can manage. I don’t want Gladys and whoever else might be watching to think I’m off my guard, but I don’t want them to think I’m trigger-happy, either.
I blink my eye into passive scanning mode and look around. No signs of heat or movement. I hope we’re in the right place.
Two alerts pop up in my eye: now that I’m out of the stealth ship and back in radio coverage, my name search on Charlie Angel has been transmitted to the warehouse, and I’ve received a message from Oliver asking for a status update.
“It’s been a while, Janey,” comes Gladys’s voice over the suit radio.
I dismiss the alerts—I’ll deal with Oliver later—and look around, but still see nothing. I raise my left and wave hesitantly, then hold up my palm in a What now? gesture.
“Inside,” Gladys says.
An airlock door pops open around the corner from where I’m standing. It’s a good thing I’ve switched my eye sensors on, otherwise I wouldn’t have seen that—I’m now seeing the glowing outline of the heat from inside the airlock, where atmosphere was until just a second ago, and the mist of rapidly dissipating air molecules escaping from the opened door. I hope this building’s structure won’t interfere with my eye transmission back to Jessica.
I walk over to the airlock, not too fast, not too slow, still keeping a lookout for any snipers or other confederates that Gladys might have brought. I enter the airlock, pull the door closed behind me, and look for controls to start cycling it. Before I find them, the pressurization cycle starts, as indicated by blinking lights above me. Gladys must have started the cycle from inside.
The inner door of the airlock pops open, and I step through. Gladys is standing alone in a large, bare, empty area.
I blink. Gladys is standing.
There’s no sign of her wheelchair, but as I walk forward, I notice metal bands around her torso and legs. A power-assist exoskeleton. I wonder how many gold bars she traded for this new toy.
“Long time no see,” she says.
I do my best to hide the motion of my head as I look around the room, using my eye to scan for other radio sources or heat signatures, but Gladys notices.
“Don’t worry, we’re alone,” she says. “This is a private family reunion.”
&nbs
p; Gladys takes a step forward, her exoskeleton flexing as she walks. I take a step back.
“Really?” Gladys says, stopping her motion and putting her hands on her hips. “Is that how it’s going to be?”
I do my best to shrug through the armored spacesuit.
“Oh, for pity’s sake. Aren’t you even going to talk to me? Say something.”
I shake my head.
“Take that damn helmet off.”
I shake my head again.
“Fine,” Gladys says. “You don’t want to talk, you can listen.”
She snaps her fingers, and I see motion to either side of me. Before I can react, two industrial assembly robots clamber up to me on their six legs and clamp multiple manipulator arms onto my spacesuit’s armpieces, shoulderpads, and helmet. They lift me up until I’m dangling a full meter off the ground.
“I was worried that you might bring some of your little robot friends along,” Gladys says. “I saw what you did out at Hadley Rille, dumping that body. I would say it was sloppy, but maybe you wanted me to see it. Maybe it was a subconscious cry for help.”
My suit radio crackles. “Kangaroo, Khan. We’re right outside the airlock. No other tangos in sight. We’re going to breach as soon as Clementine turns her back. That should give you a little extra time to drop her in the pocket.”
I can’t acknowledge, of course. All I can do is wait for the earth-shattering kaboom.
“Did I do something to drive you away?” Gladys says, now pacing back and forth below me. I keep my eye on her—literally, so Jessica can pick the best time for her and Khan to breach the building. “I lie awake some nights asking myself that. Did I do something wrong? Could I have done something more? Did I fail you, Janey? I ask myself that a lot.
“But then, after I’ve thought about it for a while, I always reach the same conclusion.” Gladys stops pacing and looks up at me. “No. I did everything I could for you, as a parent, as a mother, as a mentor. But for some reason, it just wasn’t enough. I could never get through to you.”
“Just breach,” I mutter. “Breach now, goddammit. This monologue is going to go on for hours.”
“And what are you getting mixed up in now, Janey?” Gladys shakes her head. “All this crazy spy stuff? Murdering people with robots? Do you even know who you’re dealing with? I didn’t want to take this job at first, because I could smell Sakraida’s stink all over it. He’s a mean old sonuvabitch. He can hold a grudge like nobody’s business, and he’s still got the resources to make it hurt.
“You have no idea how bad these situations can get, Janey. And if you get too deep into it, you’ll never be able to get out. These people will dig in their claws and never let you go.”
Gladys sighs. “I’m sorry, Janey. I can’t let you do this to yourself. I know we made a deal, but I’m your mother. No matter how far you run or how much you do to make yourself unlike me, we’re still family. I still care about you.
“So I talked to your pal Charlie,” she says, waving one hand in a way that makes me think the gesture has some significance between her and Jane Doe. “We negotiated a price for the secondary objective. It’ll be enough to buy you some breathing room with your creditors.” She turns her hand to face me, palm out. “Don’t even start. I know this’ll burn you off the Moon, and I know it’s a cliché, but I really mean this: it’s going to hurt me more than it hurts you.”
She turns away from me. “I’m sorry.”
“There is it,” I say. “Come on!”
I hear an explosion behind me. Gladys’s head snaps up.
I open the pocket right behind her and suck her into vacuum. The look on her face is priceless.
I blink a countdown timer into my eye. I don’t actually want Gladys to suffocate or freeze to death in the pocket; I just needed her out of the way briefly. She’ll be fine for at least twenty seconds. Maybe push it to thirty. She’s not that old or frail.
Khan and Jessica each run up to one of the robots holding me in midair and smash at the manipulator arms with their weapons. Fortunately, Gladys didn’t program these bots with defensive programs, and she didn’t bring any others for fighting.
The clamps release me, and I fall gently to the floor. Hooray for one-sixth gravity. I pull off my helmet so I can talk to Khan and Jessica.
“Took you long enough,” I say.
“Let’s get Gladys out of the pocket,” Jessica says.
“Oh, come on.” I check my timer. “It hasn’t even been fifteen seconds yet.”
Jessica glares at me. “Kangaroo.”
“I’ll catch her,” Khan says, standing next to me and putting one leg back to brace herself.
I count down from three and open the pocket, rotated so Gladys will fall toward us. The older woman tumbles out of the portal toward me, right into Khan’s waiting arms. She gasps and shivers. The moisture on her clothes and all over her face and hair has frozen into tiny little ice crystals.
“What—what—” she blurts, choking down mouthfuls of air. “What was that?”
“Surprise,” I say as Khan turns her around. Her eyes widen when she sees me.
“Wh-where’s Jane?” she asks.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I say.
Jessica presses an injector slug to the side of Gladys’s neck, and she closes her eyes and slumps against Khan’s spacesuit. She lowers Gladys to the floor.
“She’s got to have a pressure suit somewhere in here,” Khan says.
All of our radios buzz at once. “Khan! This is Hong! We’ve got a situation out here!”
“Hong, Khan, what—”
“Joey’s locked us out of the cockpit!” Hong shouts. “I think he’s trying to fly the ship!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Moon—farside
1 minute into Joey’s first solo flight
The nearest airlock is useless, since Khan and Jessica blew out the inner doors just now. I blink my eye into scanning mode to look for another exit.
“There!” I point to the back of the building. “Vehicle entrance. We can seal the inner door, then blow the other side to get out.”
“We don’t have time to get Clementine into a suit,” Khan says. “Someone needs to stay and guard her.”
“Are you volunteering?” Jessica asks.
Khan shrugs. “I guess I am.”
“He’s figured out how to work the maneuvering thrusters!” Hong calls over the radio. It sounds like things are rattling in the background. “He’s not responding to the intercom. We’re still on the ground, but I don’t know how long it’ll be before he gets to the main engines.”
“Copy that,” Khan says into her radio. Then, to Jessica and me: “I’ll call Copernicus and ask for a pickup. Go.”
I start bounding toward the other airlock. Jessica follows. We must look pretty ridiculous, but bunny-hopping is actually the most efficient way to travel long distances on the Moon by foot. If an Earth-born human tries to run here, her legs will push off the surface with too much force and propel her into the air anyway. I notice that we’re getting out of sync as we approach the airlock.
“It might be tricky getting both of us onto the ship,” I say.
“No,” Jessica says. “You’re going to put me in the pocket, and then you’re going to run for the ship.”
“Oh. Right. Good idea.”
We reach the airlock and put our helmets on. I pull the inner door shut. Jessica fixes a small explosive charge to the far edge of the outer door, then comes back to my corner and detonates it. The door flies away, taking the atmosphere in the airlock with it. In the distance, I see the black mass of the stealth ship shuddering off the ground in a cloud of Moon dust.
“Reference object,” Jessica says over the radio. “Cluster of crocus.”
“Got it.” I think of a bunch of five purple flowers, and open the pocket.
“Get us on that ship,” Jessica says. She steps through the portal.
I close the pocket and run for it.
* * *
Hong’s status reports over the radio are helpful, yet not helpful. Helpful, in that he provides important information that is directly relevant to my current objective; not helpful in that he’s basically screaming in my ear the whole time. I don’t blame him for freaking out a little. I am starting to get annoyed, though.
“The prisoner is still secured!” Hong says as I round the corner of the building and see the stealth ship hovering maybe half a meter above ground. “But I think she’s starting to wake up!”
“Great,” I mutter, knowing no one else can hear me. “Another person to contribute to the scintillating conversation.”
One of my boots slips on a loose rock, and I tumble head over heels for a few meters before catching a toe on a small crater and stopping myself. I spring up again and launch myself into the air. I keep forgetting I can’t run in this low gravity. Have to bounce. Just bunny-hop along, like in all those tourism promo vids. Kids love it!
What else do kids love? Hijacking small spacecraft, apparently.
I don’t know if I would have done something this audacious, myself. I never had the chance. The most sophisticated vehicle I ever saw as a child was a police hovercar, and I was always in the backseat, behind a bulletproof plexi barrier and usually shackled for transport. No chance of me getting loose and going for a joyride.
Before I can get within ten meters of the stealth ship, I see its black bulk tip forward, lifting the open cargo ramp into the air. The nose digs into the Lunar dust, stopping the ship’s forward rotation with a shudder.
“He’s figured out how to turn up the thrusters!” Hong shouts over the radio. “If he figures out how to sync the controls, he won’t need the main engines to get off the ground. Is anyone receiving me? Hello?”
“I’m on my way! Keep your pants on!” I shout, before realizing that my radio isn’t transmitting. “Goddammit!”
“Kangaroo is on his way,” Khan says over the radio. “Just hang tight, Hong.”
“That’s a funny choice of words,” Hong says.
I do my best to ignore the radio chatter as I bound toward the ship. The thrusters are still firing, mostly pushing the nose into the ground but also sliding the ship forward very slowly. I blink my eye into range-painting mode, so the built-in distance-measuring lasers can tell me exactly how far it is to the ship and just how high up that open cargo bay is.
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