Crescent Page 17

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is! It is really that simple! Good-bye, Crater!”

  He reached for her, but she had already turned and was walking away. He didn’t follow. She was, after all, a Medaris and he was an outlaw. This did not keep his heart from feeling like it was in a vise, or keep him from watching her as she receded, streetlight by streetlight, until she had disappeared.

  ::: THIRTY

  During his visit with Mends Your Britches and Crescent, Crater was quiet while he tried to decide what to do. He agreed with Maria about one thing. If she’d found him, the Colonel was probably close behind. He needed to take Crescent with him, but he wasn’t certain how she would take the news that they were going to have to run again. His greatest fear was that she’d turn herself in, to save him from himself.

  Neither of the women intruded on his thoughts as he stirred his food around, not even remotely hungry. They seemed to sense he was deep inside a nameless worry so they left him alone. He returned to the nook he’d fashioned in the utility tubes and was grateful when sleep finally came. He might have slept longer but was brought awake by the sound of himself singing at the top of his lungs.

  All I want is a moon dust girl,

  Down in a crater waitin’ for love.

  All I want is a moon dust girl,

  Kissin’ me ’neath the world above.

  Only it wasn’t him singing the song but instead the gillie, which mimicked his voice perfectly. It stood, though it had no legs, and sang, though it had no mouth, and looked at Crater, though it had no eyes. “Are you truly alive, Gillie?” Crater asked.

  The gillie continued to look at him, then lapsed into silence.

  To see if the gillie was functioning, he thought of something to ask. “Gillie? Tell me about Endless Dust.”

  The gillie did not answer. Crater picked it up. It was a colorless color and felt neutral to the touch. He lightly shook it. “Gillie? What’s wrong with you?”

  The gillie continued to say and do nothing. Crater put it down and went back to sleep. He had no time to waste with gillies that were sometimes dead and sometimes alive.

  The next morning, after eating stale bread smeared with biovat peanut butter and washing it down with biovat orange juice, Crater wrapped the gillie in a bandana, stuffed it in his coveralls pocket, and headed through the underground tubes to the north maintenance shed. Along the way, he felt the gillie move, then go still. “Keep regenerating, little buddy,” he said.

  To prepare for the coming journey that had now turned into an escape, the first thing Crater did was work on the old truck the Apps had bought from a used truck lot. He welded cracks, replaced wiring, changed the biogoop in its fuel cell, beefed up its chassis, replaced the pressure seals in its cabin, charged up its oxygen tanks, put in new scrubbers, and replaced its worn-out tires. All of this he did by digging into the pile of tossed junk in the maintenance shed, saving the Apps the expense of buying new parts. Happily, the crusher they’d purchased was in good condition so not much was required to get it ready except some strengthening of the suspension with welded lunasteel beams. When he discovered the Apps only had one do4u, he scrounged up three more from the dumpsters behind an Armstrong City electronics store, then tinkered with them until they worked. He also topped off the water tank by tapping into the reservoir that fed the fountains in the park beneath the Michael Collins Dome. As for food, he inspected their stores, then gave the Apps a list of what was needed. Jake looked it over. “We don’t have enough money for all this,” he confessed.

  “But you will owe me two thousand johncredits when we get to Endless Dust.”

  When Jake did not reply, just looked at the floor, Crater knew the truth. “You don’t have any money.”

  “We figured to pay you after we sell our Thorium.”

  He had already paid Mends Your Britches for Crescent’s room and board so Crater said, “I’ll cover it. You can add it to what you owe me.”

  “You know full well it’ll be a long time before we make any money,” Jake said.

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ll charge you interest,” Crater said. “How about two and half percent annually?”

  “Guess we can do that,” Jake said and they shook hands.

  Later Crater went over the map with Jake. Opening a reader, he traced his finger along the proposed route. “There’s no track out to Endless Dust so we’re going to have to bust one. First, we’ll go north to Arago Crater, then west between the Ariadaeus and Hyginus Rilles. This will take us into the Mare Vaporum—the Sea of Vapors. At the entrance to the Sinus Aestuum—the Seething Bay—we’ll turn south and go along the Flammarion peaks. As long as we keep the peaks to our left, we should come along to Alphonsus, which we’ll recognize by its irregular rim, and after that, Endless Dust. If all goes well, we’ll beat the return of the great shadow.”

  “All will go well,” Jake said.

  “If it does, it will be the first time for a trek across the moon.”

  Jake grinned. “Stop worrying, Crater. You’ve done all you can.”

  “There’s always more to be done,” Crater said. “But usually you don’t know it until it’s too late.”

  Jake gripped Crater’s shoulder, then went off to help load lunasteel tubes on the trailer attached to the truck. The tubes were for a washing system needed for Thorium separation. Crater thought it would be a good idea to weld a crack on the trailer so he headed for the tricetylene and oxygen refill area. There were always tanks there that had a little left in them. Before he got there, a woman stepped out in front of him. “Hey, sailor!”

  It was Riley, and she was wearing a jumpcar pilot’s uniform, the Medaris Mining Company logo on its breast. She moved in for a hug and her auburn hair was soft on his cheek. Her perfume was pure, sweet rocket fuel. Crater couldn’t hold back his grin. “You’re the Colonel’s new pilot. Nice work!”

  “Took advantage of an opening. Seems his previous pilot decided to head off into the wild beyond. The rumor is he went to Earth but here ye are.” When Crater looked around, she said, “Don’t worry. I’m the only one here from Moontown, but let’s get ye out of sight. Medaris Mining’s got a chuckwagon being outfitted in this shed. We can hang there for a bit.”

  Riley led Crater to a large motorized van. It was a chrome and glass beauty, and Crater took a moment to admire it, whistling. Riley grinned. “The Colonel spared no expense. There are bunks, a kitchen that can feed a convoy, and a full machine shop in the rear.”

  Inside, she gave him a tour of the machine shop, the living quarters, and the kitchen with a dining parlor that included table booths. Everything was puter driven, including a full outfit of navigational units and ground radar. “What’s your pleasure?” she asked, opening a kitchen cabinet. “Coffee or chai?”

  “Chai,” Crater said, and Riley drew them both cups of chai tea from a gleaming dispenser.

  They sat down in one of the booths. “What’s the news from Moontown?” Crater asked.

  “The heel-3 cylinders are piling up waiting for the next convoy, but nobody knows when that’ll be.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Riley shrugged. “No drivers. Most of them are hanging around town waiting for the war to be over. Did you know a warpod tried to kidnap the Colonel’s granddaughter? What’s her name?”

  “Maria. Yes, I heard that.”

  “So it’s more than a rumor. What a mess. By the way, I saw Q-Bess just yesterday. She’s fine. Same for Asteroid Al.”

  “How about you, Riley?” Crater asked.

  Riley’s smile was tinged with regret. “Something ye should know. I’ve met someone. A pretty special fella.”

  Crater wasn’t surprised. Riley was too sensible to keep earthing over the likes of him. “Good for you,” he said, almost meaning it.

  “So what are ye doing, m’boy, besides hiding out? Don’t worry. Me lips are sealed.”

  “I’m a guide.” Without thinking, he added, “Next sto
p Endless Dust. Nobody’s been out there for a decade. Abandoned but why, I don’t know.”

  “Oh, I know the reason,” she said lightly. “Ghosts.”

  Crater lifted his eyebrows. “Ghosts?”

  “Sure. Ghosts, spirits, whatever you want to call them. I used to work for the Neros before I came to Moontown. The miners at Endless Dust said they saw apparitions and heard them too. After a while, it scared them so much they sent their families away, then finally all of them quit and left.”

  Crater was astonished. “I never heard of ghosts on the moon.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “No, but I wonder what’s really out there.”

  A maintenance tech knocked on the chuckwagon door. “Pilot Bishop? We’ve finished installing the new fuel impellor on your jumpcar. Want to test it?”

  “Give me a minute.”

  Riley stood and Crater stood with her. “Keep watch on your jets, especially the portside one,” he said. “It tends to run rough.”

  “Not anymore. I fixed it.”

  “Listen, Riley . . . I told you something I shouldn’t have. About me going to Endless Dust.”

  She hugged Crater and kissed him on the cheek. “You needn’t worry, Crater. Me lips are sealed.”

  After Riley had gone, Crater sat back down to finish his tea. He felt the gillie move in his pocket so he plucked it out, unwrapped the bandana, and sat it on the table whereupon it raised up.

  Hello, the gillie said. I am a gillie biocomputer. I was designed by the Macingillie Corporation in the Republic of Calimexica and manufactured in New Shanghai, Third Republic of East China. I am designed to assist you with communications, administration, scheduling, research, and advice. Whenever you are ready, I would be glad to assist you in any of these endeavors. Do you have any questions for me?

  Crater sighed. “I just wish you’d stay awake.”

  That is not a question. I believe your last question to me had to do with the town of Endless Dust.

  Crater recalled he had indeed asked the gillie about Endless Dust when it had come awake briefly in the night. “Yes. Tell me about it,” he said.

  Endless Dust is a town founded by the Nero Corporation to mine Helium-3. It was abandoned in 2125 after the quality of the isotope was found to be inferior.

  “What about ghosts?”

  Gillie has no information on ghosts relating to Endless Dust. Would you like to know about Alphonsus Crater?

  “What about Alphonsus Crater?”

  Alphonsus is 5.8 miles from Endless Dust and is located on the eastern edge of Mare Nubium. It is seventy-three miles in diameter. It has been associated with transient lunar phenomena, also known as TLP.

  Crater perked up. “Why is it associated with TLP?”

  On November 3, 1958, the Soviet astronomer Nikolai A. Kozyrev observed what he called “strange red clouds” over Alphonsus Crater. Such clouds have since been observed many times. Kozyrev also observed a bright light in the center of Alphonsus Crater.

  When the gillie fell silent, Crater asked, “Anything else?”

  Nothing else.

  “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

  The gillie looked pleased even though it could look no way at all. Crater, in any case, wasn’t paying attention. He was deep in thought, wondering why red clouds and strange lights had been observed in an obscure crater on the moon.

  ::: THIRTY-ONE

  Crater was awakened by tremors that he thought were a moonquake, but then the gillie came alert and said, The city is under attack.

  “Who’s attacking?” Crater asked.

  A warpod. It intends to blast a hole in the Buzz Aldrin Dome, then land Legionnaire troops.

  Gillies were notorious puter hackers, and Crater realized it must have already hacked its way into the warpod. “What is their mission?”

  Unknown at this time.

  “Call Mends Your Britches.”

  Done. There is no answer.

  “Call Crescent.”

  Done. There is no answer.

  If a dome was breached, a pressure suit was required. Crater pulled on his biolastic sheath, his coveralls—putting the gillie in one of its pockets—and a backpack. Then he plopped on his helmet and sealed it, strapped on a nine millimeter moontype pistol, and headed uptube to the Buzz Aldrin Dome, which covered the neighborhood where Mends Your Britches had her shop. Popping out of a tube hatch, he emerged into chaos. The dome had been breached and air was rushing from it. People, dressed only in their tube clothes, were grasping their throats and writhing in pain as the air in their blood boiled. There was nothing Crater could do except hold on to the hatch and wait it out.

  When the wind diminished, he ran through the streets and the rubble, dodging big chunks of the dome as it fell. He reached the tailor shop and pushed inside, relieved to find Crescent alive and in her pressure suit. She was holding Mends Your Britches in her arms and Ike was draped across her legs. “They’re dead,” she said in a flat tone. “When we heard a big noise, she went up to see and something fell on her. Then the air began to escape. Poor Ike died instantly. I slammed the hatch shut and got into my suit.”

  “We’re being attacked by the Legion.”

  Crescent nodded. “I can feel them.”

  “We’ve got to leave,” Crater said, but when Crescent didn’t move, he added, “They mean to kill everyone.”

  The gillie spoke from within Crater’s coverall breast pocket. Update. Secure voice transmissions indicate this is a capture mission.

  “What is that?” Crescent demanded.

  Crater opened his pocket and the gillie stuck out its head even though it had no head. “It’s a gillie.”

  “Gillies are illegal.”

  “It knows that.”

  The target’s code name is Eaglet, the gillie said.

  “How does it know that?” Crescent asked.

  “It’s an expert hacker,” Crater explained.

  More just in. Their target is the Medaris Building.

  Crater waited for the gillie to tell him more. When it didn’t, he prodded it but it remained silent.

  “Did its batteries run down?” Crescent asked.

  “It doesn’t have batteries. It’s regenerating. I’ll explain later.” Crater turned over the gillie’s report in his mind. “Maria Medaris must be Eaglet. They’ve tried to kidnap her before. I have to stop them.”

  “The Legion is probably already there,” Crescent said.

  “The Medaris Building is well defended.”

  “They will slaughter them, and you too if you go there.”

  “I’ve fought your Legion before,” Crater reminded her.

  “Yes, and you were lucky.”

  “I’m going anyway.”

  “Wait.” Crescent gently moved Mends Your Britches and Ike, then stood, gazed fondly down at them for a moment and walked to a wall chest and swung it open, taking from it a long, curved sword. Its blade gleamed in the flickering, failing lights. “I had it made at the local foundry with my earnings from the missus. It is called a talwar. Legionnaires are trained in its art.”

  Crater had never seen such a vicious-looking blade. “Are you going with me?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “You’ll fight against Legionnaires?”

  “I will fight alongside you,” she said, adding, “It is not unknown for Legionnaires to be on opposing sides. It is all according to the contracts.”

  Outside, they emerged into a devastated neighborhood where the soft, warm air trapped beneath the dome had been flushed into the coldness of space. Bodies littered the streets. Crescent said, “This is a diversion. Note there are no Legionnaires here. Security forces will be heading in this direction while their goal is elsewhere. Very clever.”

  “Scrag crowhoppers!” Crater seethed, then said, “I didn’t mean you, Crescent.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Crescent looked at him. “That you beli
eve it is enough. Now, let us blood our enemy and crush him beneath our boot. That is a Legionnaire saying meant to stir the spirit.”

  Crater’s spirit was not stirred. He dreaded what came next, surely more fighting and more dying, both of which never seemed to solve anything. He hoped they might at least be in time to save Maria. He plunged through the utility tubes, Crescent on his heels.

  ::: THIRTY-TWO

  Crescent had been told by the Trainers that she had been born into a beautiful life where death had no victory. Yet she was feeling sad about two deaths, neither of whom mattered anything to the world or the moon or the glory of the Legion. Tears kept appearing in her eyes, nuisance things causing her vision to blur, all because the kindly tailor and her silly little dog were gone, taken forever from her life. She missed them already.

  As she followed Crater through the passageways and hatches of underground Armstrong City, Crescent also felt another emotion that was like a monster inside her. Crater seemed desperate to save Maria Medaris, but as far as Crescent knew, she had only hurt Crater. She recalled Q-Bess saying Maria was a rich, spoiled girl, but she’d also added, “Crater loves her more than life. I don’t know if there will ever be room in his heart for anyone else.”

  Crescent was jealous. It was an emotion no Legionnaire was ever supposed to have and, for that reason, no Trainer had ever mentioned it, or instructed her what to do about it. Yet she knew it was unproductive. What difference did it make to her who Crater loved? She certainly had no ambition—or possibility—to be more than what she was in his eyes, whatever that was. Still, it was an emotion that had been there for some time, just waiting to burst out of her heart like some terrible worm in a spoiled apple. That other woman—Riley something or other—the red-headed mechanic who had been after Crater, Crescent had disliked her so much she wished sometimes the jumpcar she was working on would fall over and burst into flames. Crescent had voiced that wish once to one of the cooks and she’d put down her spatula and replied, “My, Crescent, are you jealous?”