by Garon Whited
Come to that, I’d have to make more suits; we should have one for each person in case of emergency. Normally, anyone arriving would arrive in their own suit… but with circumstances as they were, I’d have to figure out how to make a pressure suit with limited resources. I thought about it while we trooped across the landing area toward the airlock. Maybe some rigid metal plates with silicon-based material at the joints…
Since the Sun was down, Galena and Sara got to bounce around in the low gravity and see the Earth in the sky. They had been on a space station, but it’s something else again to stand under an open sky and see your world hanging above you. My first time seemed so long ago.
Sara just stood there for long moments, staring up at Earth. Galena joined her when she saw what Sara was staring at.
“It reminds me of Venus,” Sara said, softly.
“Da. Many clouds, but darker.”
“That’ll be from the surface blasts,” I said. “I’m told it should clear up in time.”
We all looked at Earth for a few minutes. Finally, Kathy got us moving again.
Anne and Julie met us inside. They were both wearing their shipboard jumpsuits—mission patch, rank insignia, the works—as well as sidearms.
I wondered about that. I know we have three guns on the base; they’re usually locked in a safe in the commanding officer’s quarters. The Luna had one pistol in a lockbox. So what was Captain Carl trying to say by arming the greeting party? Kathy and I had reported fully on the mission; maybe he was reassuring our guests. On the other hand, he might also have the third gun himself and be watching through the monitors.
All this flashed through my head in an instant. Anne unbelted her sidearm and handed it to me, saying, “Your weapon, sir.” Julie was handing over her own to Kathy.
I blinked, but didn’t miss a beat. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” I said. “Keep it for now; I’ll be in this suit while we unload.” Kathy also refused a weapon, claiming that she needed to unsuit first. Galena unzipped Svetlana’s sack and helped her out.
“It’s good to have you back, Max,” Anne added. “Both of you.” She put a hand on my suit collar, pulled me gently down—at her lunar weight, that’s the only way she could—and kissed my cheek. I think it was to demonstrate that things were a lot friendlier on the Moon than on the station. Maybe having armed women greet us was better for our guests than I thought.
She turned to our guests and beckoned them. “This way, ladies. We have a locker room where you can change clothes and have a shower. Then we’ll see about something to eat. After that, I’ll have to look you over—my name is Lieutenant Fleming; I’m the base physician. Max, if you’ll carry… Kiska?… to the infirmary, she can scream all she likes. I’ll see her first, then the rest of you when you’re done with showers and dinner.”
I sighed. “Yes, Ma’am.” I picked up Kiska, suit and all, like an exceptionally large baby. I half-jogged, half-danced down to the infirmary and put her on an exam table, then took off her helmet. Her screaming was hoarse, but still rather loud.
I’m obviously no therapist; I think I’ll just leave that to people who know what they’re doing. But it seemed important to me that she know what happened to her assailants.
“You know,” I said, when she took a breath, “Yakov and Karl are dead.”
She kept screaming. I doubt she heard me. I headed up to central control to check in with Captain Carl and then start unloading.
* * *
Being the biggest and strongest person isn’t always a good thing. Admittedly, being on the Moon makes me feel like some sort of superhero—I can lift things most people would just stare at. But it’s exhausting work to unload a lunar shuttle in a suit.
I didn’t do it alone, of course. Everyone but Anne and Captain Carl—and Kiska, of course—pitched in. Svetlana ran the base lock. Kathy, Galena, and Sara formed a chain to transfer things to the lock. I got the job of hoisting packages and carrying them down the ramp. The power hoist didn’t help much; most of our salvage wasn’t in crates.
Someday, I’m going to program a robot to do this.
Speaking of the robots, they were visible in the dark because of their work lights. Night had fallen on our section of the Moon; roughly two weeks of dark meant we could spend all the time we liked on the surface. The robots, though, would keep going until we told them to stop, aside from the occasional pause to change battery modules. I could see a lot of progress had been made. Most of the foundation run was graded out and there were even a few rings already up. It’s amazing what you can accomplish with a work crew that takes no coffee breaks and keeps going twenty-four hours a day.
We finished the unloading and left the inventory to our guests—hopefully, new citizens—and Julie. Captain Carl gave Kathy and me the rest of the day off. That suited us fine. We decided to slip down to her quarters and conserve water by showering together.
Things were going exceptionally well—I was drying her off—when someone decided to pound on the door. Kathy glared daggers at it but answered, “Who is it?”
“Anne. Is Max in there?”
Kathy glanced at me. I shrugged. “Yes, he is,” she called.
“When you’re done with him, would you please ask him to come down to the infirmary? Kiska asked about him.”
“Asked?” Kathy demanded.
“Yes.”
“He’ll be right down.”
Anne went away and I looked at Kathy. “I will?”
She smiled at me. “Yes. No rest for the wicked. But I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Hmm. Now I do feel wicked. Deal.”
I slid into a fresh jumpsuit and bounced down to the infirmary. Kiska was lying in a bed, apparently asleep. I noticed her IV drip wasn’t just hanging; it had some sort of pressure-pack on it. Low gravity has its drawbacks.
Anne pressed a finger to her lips and beckoned me over. I went with her into her office area and she closed the door.
“How is she, doc?” I asked.
“Better. I got the report on her and the observations from her shipmates, then put her through several scans. She has a little physical trauma, but nothing permanent; it was the psychological trauma that had me worried. I gave her a cocktail to calm her down and talk to her. We had ourselves our first psych session and established where she is, her freedom, and so on. She seems to be doing much better. Enough to ask for ‘that big man.’ I presume she meant you.”
I nodded. “I guess so. She wouldn’t be asking for Yakov unless she had a gun in hand.”
“Max? What did happen? I haven’t yet managed to get an objective viewpoint on the whole story.”
So I sat there and explained. I saw her eyes narrow at what Yakov and Karl had done, then widen as I explained what I did about it.
“So they’re still on the station?”
“Yep.”
“They’re alive?”
I checked my watch. “Technically, maybe.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because we took all the air we could grab, the only working power panel, and all the water. Without power, the thing should be freezing cold, stuffy, and completely without anything to drink. We’re not going back for them. Even if we did, it would be at least four more days to prep for a launch and get there. Do the math.”
She shivered. “All right.”
“So can I go grab some sack time? Or do you want to wake Kiska?”
“I’d rather she slept.”
“Okay. If you want me…”
“…I’ll knock on Kathy’s door,” she finished, smiling. “You should both sleep, Max.”
“That’s on the schedule,” I answered, grinning. She laughed at me and shooed me out. I went back to Kathy’s quarters and knocked, very lightly. There was no answer, so I tried the door; it was unlocked. I slipped inside, locked the door, and felt carefully around for the bunk.
Kathy was suddenly very warm and soft and close.
Chapter Seven
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��People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them.”
—George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)
Kathy is a great alarm clock. I simply cannot imagine a better way to wake up, especially that early in the morning.
It was another hour, at least, before we got out of bed—I’m a snuggler. I’ll lie there and cuddle until I’m forced to get moving. Kathy didn’t seem to mind. Once we were dressed, we both bounced down to the infirmary to check on Kiska. She was still asleep, so we headed for breakfast.
Julie and Galena both waved as we came in. Kathy and I swung past the dispenser and sat down with them.
“How was your trip?” Julie asked.
“Fair,” Kathy answered. “I almost felt like I was a bus driver.”
“Could be worse.”
“I know. How were things here?”
Julie made a face. “Boring as hell for the most part. Captain Carl wanted a better line on what’s going on under the cloud cover, so I was fooling with the astronomy equipment—thank God you brought back a real astronomer.”
“Svetlana?”
“Yes. She’s doing things with the equipment right now. I don’t pretend to understand what she does, but she gets pictures to come out.” Julie shrugged. “It’s magic.”
“So where is Sara?”
“The dowdy Brit is in consultation with Anne,” Julie answered, looking less than pleased. “They’ve been talking about our genetic future as a race and planning lines of breeding.”
Uh-oh, thought I.
Kathy took a few bites of what looked like eggs—artificial proteins can look like just about anything—before she answered.
“You don’t sound happy about it,” she ventured.
Julie glanced at Galena, then met Kathy’s look. “Well, I can’t say I like being a potential brood mare, no. Anne and Sara aren’t too forthcoming with their plans, and it makes me nervous to think that I’m—that all of us—are going to wind up pregnant with as many kids as they can squeeze out.”
Kathy was thoughtful. “I don’t like the idea much, myself. I mean, kids, yes… I had planned…” she trailed off for a moment, looking distant. She snapped back to the present and continued, “I’d planned to have children later. I still want children. But I don’t know about a large family like that. It strikes me as being less than a family and more of another calculated breeding project.”
Galena chose that moment to stick in her two cents. “Da. Calculate and plan to make a baby, but when is born, is baby. Calculation does not end, not for mothers and fathers, but for planners of genetics, is end result. Then is human being, and grows as child, not concept.”
“Maybe,” I replied. “But I’m supposed to father half of ’em, according to the genetic analysis Captain Carl mentioned. I’m not sure I’m Daddy material. I think I’m much better as an uncle.”
Galena looked me over like I was a side of beef. “You are much better than other options, back on station. If it is survival of humanity at stake, I will not complain.”
I blinked at her. “Thank you for the compliment. I think.”
Kathy chuckled lightly. “I think she’s being polite about it. Isn’t that right, Galena?”
Galena grinned. “He likes you,” she said, nodding to Kathy. “He likes you very much, and you like him. I do not want to swim in space without suit because you think I will steal him. Just borrow him, return him in good health, perhaps tired.”
If my face was as red as it was hot, traffic would come to a shrieking halt. Suddenly the fried ham substitute in front of me didn’t seem quite so appetizing. Then Kathy laid a hand on my knee, under the table, and squeezed affectionately.
“Let me explain something,” she said. “Max is a wonderful man, and I’m very fond of him. I’ve been here long enough that I know I can’t… or shouldn’t… keep him. If anyone—well, almost anyone—wants him to help with baby-making, I won’t argue, as long as he comes back afterward. This is bigger than just my own needs and desires, and I know it. Frankly, I think that humanity will be improved by having Max’s qualities spread around a little.”
I didn’t think I could blush harder. I was wrong.
“Can we please not discuss this over breakfast?” I asked. My appetite was completely gone. Being discussed like I was some sort of commodity was not doing my ego any good, nor my comfort level.
Well, okay, maybe my ego had grown just a little. It was still uncomfortable to be discussed like that, even in such flattering terms. Maybe even especially in such terms. I don’t take flattery well. People already expect me to be a miracle-worker. I don’t want them to expect too much.
“Surely, Max,” Julie said. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Oh, thanks. Let’s just throw the conversational burden onto the embarrassed guy and see if he can think something up.”
“Well, you did suggest it,” she answered, sweetly.
“Woman, remind me to beat you.”
“Oooh! I like the way you think!” she declared, leering at me and wriggling in her seat.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. That was funny. I’m laughing. I’m even smiling. See?” I pointed at a large, teeth-bared expression on my face.
“I’ll take it.”
It worked. Conversation then turned to much less sensitive subjects. Duties, duty rosters, and probable projects. Galena was a cosmonaut; she would probably get trained on all the equipment on the base, just like the Luna’s crew. The others would get trained for their own safety—all our safety! —and then assigned to jobs in their specialty. Svetlana was already on the telescopes, and Sara was working in the infirmary with Anne.
“What’s Kiska’s specialty?” I asked.
“Organic chemistry,” Galena replied. “Her experiments were in zero-gravity reactions. She worked closely with Sara on their projects.”
“So they’re a team?”
“They were, until Kiska…” Galena shrugged.
“I know. I’m almost sorry I didn’t break more bones in those two.”
“I am sorry I did not try to kill them myself,” she said, coldly. “If I could have been sure of keeping Karl from screaming, I would have. Then I would have killed Yakov in his sleep, as he killed Yuri.”
“Sounds fair to me.”
“I should have tried,” she added, softly. “I should at least have tried.”
Julie took her hand. “I don’t know. It all worked out. If you’d tried and failed, this Yakov person might have done something even worse—and we wouldn’t be here now. So waiting was the right choice, even if you didn’t know for certain. You did put together a sort of transmitter, so you did something.”
Galena nodded. “Da. Yes. You are right.” She turned to Kathy. “Com— Captain Carl wishes me to be instructed on the radar, when you have time. Will you show me?”
“Of course.” Kathy stood up, kissed me on the cheek, and showed Galena the way to Central Control. Julie smiled at me, almost nervously.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you that badly, Max. I mean it. I’m sorry.”
I thought about it. Was I being too sensitive? Maybe. Probably.
“Okay. You can’t change overnight, and I can’t afford to be thin-skinned. You’re trying to be more sensitive; I’m trying to be less. We’ll meet somewhere in the middle. But do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Pay attention to Kathy. I’ll try to take anything you dish out in public, but if you upset Kathy, I won’t be as understanding as I was during our last discussion. Fair?”
“Don’t piss off your girlfriend. Got it.” She grinned at me. “She already had this little talk with me.”
I think I blinked at her. I didn’t know what to say.
“Did she?”
Julie nodded. “Oh, yes. She says she likes me and knows I’m not trying to stea
l you. Emotionally, you two are an item. Genetically, she realizes you have to be available to everyone. And she mentioned that if I try and come between you two, she’ll slit my throat and feed me to my own recycling unit.”
I choked on faux-eggs.
“What?”
Julie forced a grin. “I’m not entirely sure she meant it. But I’m really not sure she didn’t, if you follow me. So I’m being even more cautious. Want me to clean up?” she asked, gesturing at the remains of breakfast.
“I’ll help,” I said, and wiped my mouth. It let me think without a lot of conversation. Together, we dumped everything into the recycling chutes. Julie went off to see Svetlana and the cosmos, while I went back to the infirmary.
Would Kathy really do that? Julie wasn’t entirely certain, either way, but was definitely concerned about it. I knew Kathy considered me to be an important part of her life. Maybe Kathy would. Sometimes, she seems to be as cold and calculating as a machine.
Hummingbirds don’t look deadly.
Anne and Sara were busy, so I sat down next to Kiska’s bed and twiddled my thumbs. I was there for quite a while. Anne finally came over to change an IV and smiled wanly at me. She looked tired.
She greeted me with, “Hello. Been there long?”
“About an hour or so. How long has she been out, anyway?”
“Nearly fourteen hours. We’ve talked a lot and she’s still on her psych meds, so her mind has a lot to deal with. Sleep is a good way to do it.”
“When do you think she’ll wake up?”
“Anytime.” She put a fresh bag in the pressure-pack and started to leave.
“Hey, Anne?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s up on the genetic planning committee? Have you got the human genome sorted out for the next century?”
“No. The genome is a listing of what sequences of DNA are linked to what characteristics. We’ve had that for decades. What we’re sorting out are the best ways to crossbreed a limited genetic community with a minimum of recessive reinforcement.”