Luna

by Garon Whited

  “If you’re lucky, I’ll just kill you outright,” she replied, sounding all throaty and seductive, as if she might enjoy it. A lot. I believed she would. Peng did, too; I could see it in his face. Poor guy didn’t know when to leave well enough alone, though.

  “And if I’m unlucky?” he asked. Kathy’s eyes turned colder than the frozen depths of a tax collector’s black little heart, but her smile and her seductive voice never changed.

  “I will hurt you before I kill you.”

  The operation went off without as much as a peep from our guest. I don’t think he did more than blink. Actually, I’m not sure he blinked. He might have breathed shallow just to avoid any unnecessary movement.

  Anne looked me over via video camera and talked Kathy and Galena through the details of getting a bullet out of my hide. A little surgery, a little sewing, some treatment for shock… The verdict was that I’d live, at least long enough to let Anne do a proper job back at base. I would have been very happy to hear that, but I was busy being a tough little sailor boy while Kathy had a fiber-optic probe stuck in my guts.

  Topical anesthetics aren’t up to that kind of work. I asked for a piece of air hosing and bit down on it while trying not to scream. If I was tough enough to take having bullets yanked out of my body, I’d have joined the Marines. I’m not that tough. I screamed a little. Well, whimpered. But not loudly; it made Kathy nervous, and I didn’t want the person reaching inside me with pliers to be nervous. It was bad enough with Galena vacuuming up the loose drops of blood that floated around the compartment. Free-fall surgery isn’t very tidy.

  Once we had that out of the way and I was feeling less like a bad gasket, they strapped me down in the seat across from Peng. Kathy violated a lot of orbital docking rules and backed the Luna into the station’s bay. She parked our jets less than a meter from the lounge’s observation port and sent Galena to go explain our boarding procedure. Galena left her mike open and Kathy put her on the bridge speakers so we could listen.

  “The deal is this,” our negotiator explained. “We will seal doors to the bay. When is pressure, you all go to the bay and go in through cargo door. There are many couches. Each will take one and strap down immediately. You will stay in couch until after boost. When is time to land, strap down again. We will take you to moon base and give medical exam, food, clothes, and hot shower for everyone. But is makeshift aboard ship. Toilet not built for so many, so plastic bags in cargo bay. Trip will be special, much fuel expended, but still bad two days. Better than staying here, I think. Questions?”

  Someone asked, “Didn’t I hear something about the captain of the ship being worried about us hijacking it?”

  “Is not a worry now.”

  “Oh?” The voice sounded faintly disbelieving.

  “Please to look out viewport into docking bay.” I heard the click of the shutters opening.

  There were a couple of gasps, followed by a thick, contemplative silence. The Luna’s main rocket exhaust isn’t pretty to anyone who isn’t an engineer.

  Hummingbirds go for the eyes.

  “Outer doors can be breached. Rockets will melt window. Station pressure will drop to zero. Very bad for everyone if anyone not doing what they are supposed to do. Help each other be good or everyone dies. Is clear?” Galena asked. There must have been agreement, because she went on.

  “Good. When cargo bay doors open, come out; pressure will be equal. Airlock doors will both open so there will be no delay in leaving station for ship. Ten minutes after ship doors open, ship doors close. Airlock from cargo bay to cabin is one-person type. Cabin crew have guns. Anyone not inside Luna cargo bay will stay on station until freezes. Questions?”

  “This whole operation seems rather hit-or-miss!” someone complained. “Why did it take so long to send a rescue ship? And I don’t appreciate this authoritarian bossing about, these threats. And what do you intend to do about our possessions? Haven’t arrangements been made?”

  “If you have it on you, bring it. If not, no time to fetch. Think someone will steal?”

  “That’s hardly a proper attitude, young lady! I see your name on your suit, lieutenant!” I hadn’t had a chance to make a new suit for Galena; she was using Julie’s. “I’ll have you know that I intend to take this matter up with your superiors!”

  “Da. Do that. I will want to watch, maybe point and laugh. In meantime, shut up. No time for more complaints; ship leaving shortly. Be aboard when hatches close or is long walk.”

  Galena cycled back out through the lock. She had to run the power line to the main doors and handle everything herself. I didn’t like that; it’s my job and I don’t like sitting uselessly. I had a small argument with Kathy about going out and helping until she poked me in the side. It wasn’t all that forceful a poke, but I could feel my eyes cross.

  “Okay,” I admitted, “you win. How about I just stay up here on the bridge and keep an eye on Peng with you?”

  “Much better. I’m not about to risk you, Max, no matter how gallant you try to be.”

  “You’re only saying that because I haven’t put a window in your airlock yet.”

  Kathy smiled at me, kissed me quickly, and whispered in my ear, “That’s not the only thing you haven’t finished putting in yet. But we’ll get around to that when you’re feeling better.”

  I had sense enough to not argue.

  * * *

  Altogether, there were ninety-seven people in the cargo bay when we closed the doors. It took a while to actually get out of the docking bay; Galena had to vent the air slowly by just cracking the hangar doors. It wouldn’t do to let her get sucked out into space after she risked her life to come save mine.

  Once we were all packed up again, Kathy nudged us out on maneuvering thrusters so as not to damage the station. We might come back someday. Probably.

  “I hope they listened to the instructions,” Kathy said. “Stand by for burn.”

  Galena looked through the window to the cargo bay. “Da. No one is drifting, but many dropsick.”

  “They’ll get over it. Or not.”

  “Hey!” I protested. “Who do you think will have to clean that up?”

  “Sorry, Max,” Kathy said. Then she brightened. “Get Julie to do it. It’s all recyclable, and there’s a high water content.”

  “Evil woman,” I said. Kathy grinned wider and I added, “Ready for acceleration, captain.”

  Kathy fired the engines on minimum power, slowly throttling them up to about three gees. It went on for a bit while we shaped our orbit homeward. I can’t say I enjoyed it, what with the gunshot wound, but it was a lot better than lying in a cold space station and bleeding to death.

  I’m just glad Peng took Kathy at her word and didn’t try anything. Kathy didn’t treat him very nicely, but I can’t say that I blame her. Poor guy. If he hadn’t shot me, I could have sympathized with him. At least she let him out of the chair after our orbit burn.

  As it was, he still had it easier than the people in the cargo bay. Peng got to use the zero-gee toilet, not a plastic baggie. He got in-flight meals instead of cold ration packs. He even got to have interesting conversations with new people. The people in the cargo bay got none of that; Kathy wasn’t willing to let anyone in or out. She judged it too much of a security risk.

  I struck up a conversation with Peng while Kathy and Galena were off the bridge.

  “So, explain to me why you shot me, will you?” I requested.

  Peng looked embarrassed again. “I am really, truly sorry, sir. I was too scared to do anything but shoot.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “The habitants that went bad.”

  “Went bad how?”

  Peng chewed on his lower lip for a minute. “You know the type of people that live… lived on the habitat?”

  “Vaguely. Rich people and sick people?”

  “Not exactly. All of the permanent residents are wealthy. It is not for anyone without wealth; it costs too much to rent a comp
artment. But most of them are ill, too. Hearts, mainly, and other circulation problems that can benefit from lower gravity. A few muscle or bone disorders.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “The staff is not so wealthy, nor sick. I am one. We are strong and young and carefully selected as both personal servants and as crew. We are paid well, of course—or were. Most of us are honest, hard-working people.”

  “I would imagine so,” I agreed. “It’s hard to have slackers in space. It’s not worth it to ship them up the gravity well.”

  “Exactly,” he said, nodding. His face fell and he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t identify. “But when the power failed, there were panics. People did crazy things. Some tried to escape… and did, after a fashion. Several others died when airlock doors… well. Others died from falls to the lower decks; most residents aren’t used to full gravity. Many died from fear, from weak hearts. Some of the maintenance people also panicked. The whole habitat seemed to be one big riot… The panic slowed efforts to restore power, and Shen was the senior electrician—he died while trying to calm people…

  “When it grew cold, some people built fires—fires! Like campers, or cavemen! In a space habitat!” he said, and laughed bitterly. “But they were not staff. They did not understand that there would be no more new air until we could get power. One fire spread and we had to close off many compartments, then vent them to space… people were still…” He shook his head and went on. “It grew colder. Much colder. The farms froze. Our food stores began to run low. Some of the people… were discovered…” he paused, swallowing and looking a little greenish. I don’t think it was the free fall.

  “I found a man on deck seven, kneeling beside a woman,” he whispered. “I thought she was hurt, or that he was trying to… well, I went over to see and… he… he was eating…” Peng broke off and shuddered, eyes closed, hands clasped and knuckles white.

  “That’s one of the bad ones,” I said. “And he wasn’t alone?”

  “Three or four, no more. They… would hunt us. They made weapons, spears and knives, so I needed a weapon. I went to the Director’s quarters and found the pistol. If anyone would have a gun, I thought it would be him, and I was right. He was dead, gone in a fire, I think, so I took the gun. We stayed together, we tried to restore power, we traveled in groups and kept trying to get electricity, but going down into the cold decks was hard. It took us a long time.”

  I patted Peng on the shoulder. “Don’t let it get you down, Peng. You survived. You escaped. You did the best you knew how to do. Because of you, close to half the people on that station are headed back with us.”

  Peng nodded. “I did the best I could,” he whispered. “I truly did.”

  “And a fine job you did,” I replied. “But your marksmanship needs work. I’m still alive.”

  Peng got this look of utter and complete confusion for a half second, and then he laughed. It was a good laugh, one that let go of a lot that he’d been holding onto. Not everything, of course, but if laughter is the best medicine, I’m a doctor. He looked better afterward, anyway. Galena stuck her head through a hatchway to check on us.

  “There is a joke?” she asked.

  “Yep. In fact, come on in. I was just about to tell Peng the story about how my Uncle Jim blew up a nest of Texas fire ants and how they nearly took a whole pasture with them…”

  * * *

  We reported in detail back to base; Captain Carl was ready for us when we landed. Disembarkation was more complicated; instead of a large hangar for everyone to use, they had to go through the airlock to the main cabin, then out through the hatch I’d replaced. This process was further hampered by requiring our guests to use evacuation balls—inflatable pressure sacks—and be handled like cargo through the outer lock. If we’d had enough pressure sacks for everyone, we could have just opened the main cargo doors and tossed them into the base. As it was…

  It took three hours for Julie and Galena to shuffle everyone through the locks, but that gave Kiska, Sara, and Svetlana time to take names, assign quarters, feed everyone, issue a clean jumpsuit, and start medical exams. Most of them were dehydrated and hungry; it’s hard to keep anything down if free fall disagrees with the stomach.

  I did not get to help. I didn’t even get to watch. I got shoved into base right off the mark and Anne gave me a thorough going-over to see what had been hit. She made me take a nap while she fiddled with my insides. I didn’t mind that; I didn’t really want to watch. When I finally woke up, the whole disembarkation was over—and she wouldn’t let me out of bed. Tyrannical woman.

  All the ladies popped in by ones and twos that day to see me and wish me well. I felt warmed completely through at the welcome. Svetlana went out of her way to make sure I was welcomed home properly; she took advantage of my wounded state to grab me by the ears and kiss me soundly.

  I’m not sure if the Russians kiss to welcome someone home. If they do, it’s a sure-fire motivator to go home! I enjoyed it a lot; Svetlana is good at it. But I decided that I ought to have a talk with her, and soon. I’m sort of spoken for, and Svetlana doesn’t need to look over her shoulder—suddenly and sharply, with a power assist from Kathy.

  I spent a lot of time napping. When awake, I did what I could from a bed. Captain Carl dropped in on me as I was sketching a boarding tube to connect the base to the Luna.

  “I see you’re feeling better,” he offered. I saluted.

  “Ready to spring to my feet and lash a few serfs,” I declared. “I’ll settle for robots if we’re short on serfs, sir.”

  He chuckled. I decided I wasn’t the only one feeling better.

  Captain Carl settled into the bedside chair and smiled slightly. “I don’t want you roaming around when you’re not in good shape, Maxwell. A lot of these people are unhappy about not being taken to Earth, and more are upset about their lack of accommodations in the Luna. To say nothing of their accommodations here.”

  “We did our best, sir.” Ungrateful, that’s what they were, and it made me grouchy. “If they’re not happy with a free ride, I’m willing to take ’em back.”

  He chuckled. “I doubt anyone would take you up on it. But there’s a Chinese gentleman who desperately wants to avoid a serious crisis of conscience; he might go back in penance. What do you think of him?

  “I guess you mean Peng. Aside from the fact that he’s trigger-happy, he’s a good guy,” I answered. “He tried to kill me by accident, sir. I don’t think he’d try it again.”

  “All right. In the meantime, I expect you to make a full recovery. That means staying in bed until Anne lets you up. Clear?”

  I sighed. “As you say, sir. But didn’t you say that some of them wanted to go back to Earth?”

  “Ah. Yes. They’ve been living out of radio contact since the strike, and the habitat doesn’t have many windows on the inner decks. No radio, no window… no idea how bad it is down there.”

  I mulled that over. It was going to be a shock, and a bad one.

  “That’s another reason I want you in bed for now, Maxwell; I’ll need your presence to help keep order when I address our guests and bring them up to speed. Anne says that you should be cleared for light duty within a day; I authorized the use of our regenerative drugs. We’ll delay telling them anything until all our people are prepared.” His face hardened. “I spoke with this ‘Peng’ person about their tendency to riot. I’ll be drafting him to help. He seems to think most of the panicky ones are no longer with us.”

  “He’s a good guy, sir,” I assured him.

  “Coming from the man he shot, that’s high praise,” he observed. “I’m glad to hear it. Incidentally, we’ll be switching some titles around soon.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’m consolidating our rank structure while we’re here. Everyone stays the same rank, but we’ll use the Navy titles. Lieutenant Colonel Edwards will become Commander Edwards, and so on down the line. Our guests have enough to digest at a gulp, and this helps us prese
nt them with a solid, unified command structure.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Good. And another thing… Good work, son. You did a fine job.”

  Okay, that almost made up for being shot. He didn’t stay much longer—far too many people to meet and greet and get to know—and questions to parry. He’d made the effort to come to me, and that made it special. The CO is always a busy man, and with so many new people, he’d be hopping like a flea.

  Kathy spent most of her off time in the infirmary with me. She could have slept in her own room but napping in a chair is almost as good as a bed in this gravity. I was surprised at how glad I was to wake up and find her holding my hand.

  We talked mostly in the evening; during the day, our guests paraded through for their check-ups. One of the things I vividly recall was my thought on hummingbirds. I told her about how a provoked hummingbird goes for the eyes. I compared that to having the Luna’s rockets practically touching the lounge observation port.

  She laughed. “I hoped it would give that sort of impression. Intimidation value. I wasn’t looking forward to trying to ram my way out!”

  “Me, either. But I’ve got a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “It’s related to shooting, yeah. You said that you were ready to shoot the habitat down if they didn’t hand me over—of course, we weren’t up to speed on the situation, so I’m glad it wasn’t necessary. But how did you intend to shoot down a million tons of space station? The Luna isn’t armed. Not that I know of, anyway.”

  Her nose crinkled at me. “Silly man. If you’d died aboard that fancy floating hospital, I’d have killed every person on it. But I did not say I’d shoot it down.”

  “I thought you said—”

  “I said you could tell them that. True, the Luna is unarmed—if you don’t count hot jets—but they didn’t know that. It makes a much better threat than, ‘My girlfriend will kill you all,’ now doesn’t it?”

  I’m going to have a word with Anne. Our kids had better inherit her brains and looks; mine suffer a lot by comparison.