Текст книги "Bouncing Off the Moon"

Автор книги: David Gerrold

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

There was a post just outside the restaurant, with arrows attached to it, pointing out how far away we were from everything. The bright-liner catapult was 1575 kilometers north of here, stretched horizontally across the Lunar equator. There was also an interactive panel that would let you query the time and distance to anywhere else in the solar system. I wanted to ask it how far we were from El Paso, but Samm and Janos dragged me on. The sweet smells from the café were too enticing.

The food at The Mad Tea Party was much better than the packaged snacks on the train. We had fresh bread and butter, sliced fruit salad, cheese, and lemonade. All grown on Luna. We ate in silence for a while; I guess none of us wanted to be the first to bring the subject up.

But finally Samm looked across the table to Janos. He lowered his voice. "Can we get away from Alexei here? Can we catch another train north?"

"Which one?" asked Janos. "The thing about Wonderland Station is that every southbound train on Luna ends up here. And every northbound train starts here. Only one train goes farther south—the branch line to Gagarin and the ice mines; it's another two hours and a hundred klicks southeast. And another ten minutes to the actual south pole. But that's a dead end. You'd have to come back the same way."

"So if Gagarin is a dead end, then why does Alexei want us to go there? Wouldn't it make more sense to head north from here?"

"I'm not sure what his thinking is," Janos admitted. "You know how he is. 'Is much big good idea. You will see. Trust me, I make you rich.'" Once again, his mimicry was perfect.

"His thinking is to get us out of the way," I said.

Janos looked at me. Samm said to him. "Maura figured it out too."

"Figured what out?" demanded Patty.

"Shh," said Samm. "Your mommy figured out what a good girl you've been. You can have an extra scoop of ice cream."

"That's not what you're talking about," she said.

"Pattycakes." I leaned over and put my hand on top of hers. We both wore the same awful shade of pink nail polish, the only color Al-exei had thought to order. Even as the words came out of my mouth, I hated saying them. "This is a grown-up thing, sweetheart. But after we figure it out for ourselves, I'll explain it to you, okay?"

Surprisingly, she agreed. She smiled up at me, suddenly patted my tummy, and said, "Nice monkey. You be good now." Then she turned back to her thick slice of bread, spreading it lavishly with butter and jam. I found myself smiling. This kid actually had a good head on her—his?—shoulders.

And then I found myself wondering about that. This whole gender thing was confusing. Ever since Bobby and I had put on dresses we were both acting like we were part of the same family. Why was that? Were we playacting? Or were we finally taking ourselves seriously? If we kept this up, Douglas would never let either of us be a boy again.

BREAD-AND-BUTTER ISSUES

I turned my attention back to Mickey and Douglas. In their costumes, it was easier to think of them as Samm and Janos. They were glumly picking at their salads. Occasionally one or the other would start a sentence, then stop in mid-phrase and shake his head. "Never mind."

"Well, why can't we just catch another train?" I asked. "There are trains coming through here every half hour. It's a major hub. The catapult is on the equator."

Janos stared off into space for a bit, figuring numbers in his head. "That's almost a day and a half on the train. Luna is bigger than you realize. And the trains only go sixty klicks an hour. If you need to go faster, you fly. And that's expensive." He shook his head. "No, I think we're looking at a different problem. If the bounty marshals really are looking for us, they don't have to look all over Luna, do they? They know we're trying to get a colony contract. We could have bids in our mailbox now—but I can't log on without the risk of being traced. Once we accept a bid, we're under colony protection, but we can't find out what bids we have without giving away our position. So we're effectively stalemated. Wait, there's more—" He stopped me from interrupting.

"Once we get to the catapult, we're effectively under starside jurisdiction, whether we have a contract or not. That's to protect our freedom to choose free of duress. So all we have to do is get to the catapult. But that also simplifies the problem for the bounty marshals. They only have to wait at the catapult and watch for new arrivals.They don't have to hunt all over Luna."

"Yeah? And what about the Gramma from Hell?" I asked. I inclined my head slightly toward the far side of the restaurant, where she sat with her husband. They seemed to be facing away from us, but so what? They didn't need to watch our every move. They only needed to see what train we left on.

Janos shrugged. "They might be freelancers—or part of a larger team. If someone is actually going to this much trouble, the reward must be enormous."

"Yeah, that makes sense," I said, patting my tummy. Just how much was a lethetic intelligence engine really worth? Billions? Trillions? Who knew? Supposedly, a well-informed engine could predict stock-market fluctuations with more than 90 percent accuracy. With that kind of information available, with the engine doing its own buying and selling on the web, how long would it take to earn back its own cost? I'd heard that even the lethetic engines themselves couldn't predict the full range of their eventual capabilities.

"But if they've identified us, why haven't they detained us?" asked Samm.

"They might be waiting for Alexei."

"But they don't know that Alexei is with us, do they?" I said.

"Look at the big picture. He's not at Geostationary, he's a Loonie, and his fingerprints are all over our escape. Especially that business with the pod. It wouldn't take an elevator scientist to figure out that he's taking us somewhere." He scratched his chin. "They're just waiting for him to show his bony face. That's what they're waiting for. Then they'll swoop down. Or, maybe … "

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe they want to give us room to run. Maybe they want to see what Alexei has planned. He represents a lot of money that nobody is collecting user fees on. Well, he is—but no legal authorities are. Maybe they're not after us. Maybe they're after Alexei. Maybe he's using usas his cover. Think about that. So they let us run with him because we make it harder for him to disappear. We're just too easy to follow."

"This was a stupid idea," I muttered. Meaning everything.

"Maybe not," said Janos. "We're on Luna. We're not on Earth. We're not on the Line. We're under Lunar jurisdiction—until we can get to starside jurisdiction. As soon as we accept a bid … " His voice trailed off.

"What?" demanded Samm.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's a loophole." He helped himself to another slice of bread and began thoughtfully buttering it. He took his time. Lunar bread is lighter and fluffier than the same loaf baked on Earth; bread rises higher in low gee, so the loaf isn't as dense and the slices are softer—another one of those little differences you don't realize until you bump into them.

Finally, he said, "We could check the mail. If there's a bid—and there should be at least three—we accept it. It doesn't matter where. We accept it. That puts us under starside jurisdiction, and the marshals can't touch us. Once we get to the catapult, we have the legal right to cancel the bid in favor of a better one."

"Will that work?"

"The problem is, once we accept that bid, we only have five days to change our minds. And the catapult is effectively two days from here. So we arrive with very little margin. If we cancel, and we don't have a replacement bid, we lose starside protection. And most colonies won't issue a bid if they know you've already accepted one somewhere else. They've all had enough bad luck with folks playing one against the other that they won't play that game anymore. At least, not openly—and then, you'd have to be someone pretty special. So … it's doable, but it's dangerous."

"I don't like it," said Samm. "Remember what Judge Griffith said. Choose carefully. We can't take chances."

Janos sighed. "Believe me, I know what Auntie Georgia said. That's why I don't like the idea either."

"Our tickets are for Gagarin," I said. "What happens if we keep going?"

"We end up where Alexei wants us," said Samm.

Janos finished spreading strawberry jam on his bread and took a bite. "Alexei isn't stupid," he finally said. "He got us this far. He must have a plan."

"But Gagarin's an ice mine," I protested. "The only way in or out is on the train. It's a dead end."

"Mmmm, not if you're invisible. And there are a lot of invisibles at the south pole. Freelance ice miners. There's a whole network of invisibles. Alexei is probably going to drop us out of sight somewhere in Gagarin City."

"You think so?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense. So he doesn't need to shepherd us anywhere. All we have to do is get back on the train, and we'll be invisible in less than three hours."

I wanted to say no to that, but I couldn't figure out how to argue the case. Samm knew—at least as much as I'd been able to whisper to him. He looked across the table at me with narrow eyes. I shook my head. I didn't like the idea.

Patty asked for more lemonade. I reached for the pitcher. It sloshed like it was half-full, but it still felt too light in my hands; I poured carefully. I refilled my own glass too. I looked back to Samm.

"What if he just wants to get us out of the way?"

"He could have done that already," said Janos. "He took us straight to Prospector's Station. If he'd wanted to kill us, he only had to take us out into the sunlight, farther than we could get back, and leave us there." He took a bite of bread. "So for the moment, he must think we're more valuable to him alive than dead."

"I can argue the other side of that," said Samm. "He can be traced by his credit card transactions. So they know he got on the train at Prospector's Station. If we're not with him, they have a place to start looking for the cargo pod and the bodies. So he's automatically suspect. But once we're seen traveling across the moon's rectum withouthim, then our disappearance isn't provably his doing anymore. He has an alibi. Sort of." Samm lowered his voice. "And my point is—he doesn'tneed us anymore. Only the monkey. And once he gets that, we're a liability." Samm gave me a smile of acknowledgment. "Getting pregnant was a very smart idea, kiddo."

That made me feel good, and I wrapped my arms around my belly, wishing I could do something else just as smart.

I wished I could talk to the monkey about this. Maybe a lethetic intelligence engine could figure this out. But I didn't see how. Unless it knew something we didn't—which was probably likely. Unless it was trying to hide—which was even more likely.

But I couldn't just take it out and talk to it—and even if we could have found a private place, I would have been hesitant. For some reason, I didn't even want Mickey to know about this. I trusted me. I trusted Douglas. I even trusted Bobby. No one else. Maybe someday I'd trust Mickey, but I hadn't known him that long, and he was the one who put us in Alexei's hands anyway. So how good was his judgment?

"Maybe … " I started to voice a thought.

"What?" said Samra.

"Well, I was just thinking … they're looking for four of us. Not three." I looked from one to the other. "What if Janos takes a different train?"

They exchanged a glance. From their expressions, I knew the suggestion was dead before either of them said anything. Janos spoke first. "I don't like that idea. I don't think we should split up." He placed his hand over Samm's for a quick moment.

Samm's eyes were narrowed, his lips were pursed. He was stepping back inside himself and thinking about all of it at once. He saw the logic of what I was saying; but he didn't like it very much either. Finally, he shook his head. "If they've already identified us, it won't make any difference. And if they haven't, splitting up just gives us new problems. It's an interesting idea; but no, it's too risky. We need to stay together."

I wasn't going to argue it. Not unless I could speak to Samm alone. "Okay, so what train do we take?" I asked. "Are we going north or south? The catapult or Gagarin?"

"Gagarin," said Janos quietly. "I thought we decided that. We stand a better chance of avoiding the marshals if we go invisible."

"And Alexei—?"

Janos let his gaze drop down to the forgotten slice of bread in front of him, and his voice went even lower. " I might have some … resources of my own."

Samm and I exchanged a glance. We didn't know who to trust anymore. I felt like a mouse staring into a trap. There wasn't any cheese in it. We knew it was a trap. But we didn't have anyplace else to go.

"Look," said Janos. "If we're going, we have to decide quickly. The train to Gagarin leaves in fifteen minutes. Does anyone have a better idea?"

PERFORMANCES

We didn't see Alexei on the train. We didn't see the blue-haired vulture either. So maybe all that paranoia was for nothing. Maybe she was exactly what she appeared to be. A foolish old lady very far from home.

And what were we? Three just as foolish boys, just as far from home. Four if you counted Mickey.

Except I wasn't so sure how foolish he was. Between Alexei's mysterious disappearances and Janos's dark broodings, I was getting very confused. I wanted us to get away from both of them so we could figure things out for ourselves.

The train dropped away from Wonderland Jumble, heading south and east into the sunlight. There weren't as many passengers on this leg. Only two Loonies we hadn't seen before and us.

I thought about trying to get some more sleep, but I wasn't tired enough. And even though the train was fitted with solar-panel shields that could be rotated and angled to protect it from direct sun, the endless daylight was too unnerving.

I tried watching the news on the video, but it was all depressing. If anyone was talking about the search for us, it wasn't on the news. In the week since we'd left the Line, what was left of the home world was whirling around itself in chaos. Riots. Power outages. Martial law. Interruptions in shipping. Crops rotting in the fields. Food shortages. Outbreaks of violence. Troops called out. And plagues. The plagues had spread south and west through Asia, south and west through Africa, south and west through Latin America. South and west through North America.

Even if we wanted to go home, we couldn't. The house was still there, but it wouldn't be homeanymore.

At this distance, it didn't seem real anyway. I could look north into the sky and see the fattening Earth riding along the Lunar horizon like a big blue bubble, and it didn't have any relation at all to the words and pictures pouring out of the video. From here, it still looked beautiful.

And very soon, we would be leaving it behind forever. Maybe.

Finally, I levered myself out of my seat, climbed over Samm and Janos, and went to the observation deck at the end of the last car—not because I wanted to look at any more scenery—I'd already seen enough Lunar rocks to last a couple of lifetimes—but because there was no one else back there, and I wanted to be alone again. Maybe I could try to figure things out. Maybe I would just play pattycake with the same old crap one more time, making little mud pies of my thoughts.

After a while, Janos came back and stood silently next to me. He was carrying two mugs of hot tea. He handed one to me and we stared silently out the window at the broken jumble so far below us.

I felt confused. He looked like Janos, but now he felt like Mickey again. One minute I liked him, the next minute I didn't. I couldn't figure out why. And I hated the confusion. Maybe it was because he was a lot like Alexei—telling us where we should go and what we should do. As if he knew more about everything than we did. As if our opinions didn't count. As if he knew better what was good for us. Just like Mom. Or Dad. Or the judge. Or any other grown-up with authority.

And nobody ever bothered to say, "Here's why you should trust me." They just assumed that "trust me" was sufficient. And it never was.

"This is very hard on you, isn't it?" Mickey said.

"What? This?"

"No, everything. Leaving home. Me and Douglas. Leaving your parents. Bouncing across the moon. Everything."

I shook my head. "No. That's the funny thing. I can handle all that. It's the otherstuff that doesn't make sense."

"What other stuff?"

I held out the front of my dress for a moment. "This."

"The disguise?"

"No. I can even handle that." For a moment, I couldn't find the words. "I mean, all the stuff about men and women and the space in between. That stuff. Does anybody understand it? Do you?"

He laughed. "No. And anyone who says they do—well, they're lying." He added, with a grin, "Or they're really arrogant."

"I don't get it," I said. "Why are we divided into males and females? I mean, I understand the biology of it, but I don't understand whyit's such a good idea to split a species into two opposite halves, perpetually at war with each other."

"Like your mom and your dad."

"And everybody else too."

"I can see why it looks that way to you."

"But this is the part that's gets confusing. When we're all the same, like me and Douglas and Stinky, we fight all the time. And then Bobby and I put on dresses and we pretend to be girls and all of a sudden, we're all getting along like one big happy family. Boys and girls together. So it doesn't make sense. How come we get along now?"

"Maybe because you're feeling different about each other—and about yourselves." Mickey put his hand on my shoulder. "How do you feel about being a girl?"

I shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, it doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. It's like being someone else for a while—like thinking a different way. It's kind of like there's a different part of me, the part that would have been me if I had been born a girl. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"She probably would have been a lot nicer than I am."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause it's true."

"You're selling yourself short, Chigger. You're a lot nicer than you know. And smarter too." He patted my shoulder. "Most people are very nice—when they let go of their fear and anger."

I wanted to believe him, so I did, and maybe it was true. "So why do we have to pretend to be something else just to get along with each other?"

"You want to know what I think?"

"Yeah, I do."

"I think the whole gender thing is an excuse."

"For what?"

"For not being who you really are."

"Huh? You're going to have to explain that to me."

"All right … " He took a deep breath. "The way it looks to me, from where I stand, is that most folks get locked into some idea of what they think gender is supposed to be about, so they put on gender-performances for each other. They act out who they think they have to be. And most of the time, they end up not knowing the difference between the mask they're wearing and who they really are. Charles, a real man doesn't worry what kind of underwear he's wearing, what color it is, or if it there's a little lace on the bottom, because he knows he's not his underwear. It doesn't mean anything.

"What you're finding out is that you are not the mask. Because when you can put on one gender-performance, and then take it off and put on another, and then take that one off too, that's when you start to realize how much of what you think is really you is just a performance. And when you can recognize it as a performance, it loses all of its power. That's when you can see the difference clearly between roleand real—in yourself and everyone else. Does that make sense to you?" he asked.

I nodded, but I was still frowning. "But youcan see it that way because you've already done it."

"I had to. I didn't have any choice. It's that way for anyone who's different in some way. But if you don't feel different, then you don't haveto do it, so you don't, and you never learn better about who you are. Do you see that?"

I nodded.

"So, it's your job to find out who you are and let the rest of us know. Because nobody else can tell you. And the only way you can find out is you try on possibilities. Like clothes. And you keep trying on possibilities until you find the ones that fit best. That's how you discover what's really you and what's just noise. And when you find out who you really are, then nobody can take that away from you."

I heard the words, but I didn't know what they meant, because I knew I hadn't experienced what he was talking about.

Mickey saw it in my face. "Charles, you have to get down into your own heart and soul and sort things out for yourself. Piece by piece by piece. Nobody else can do it for you. It's hard work. And most people don't want to do it, or don't know how. Because it's uncomfortable.And most people aren't willing to be uncomfortable. So they'll never do the work, and they'll drift along through life, unconscious, never knowing who they really are, because they've never questioned it, never examined it, never taken it out and held it up to the light to look. Do you want to know the dreadful truth about human beings?"

I nodded.

"Remember what I said about belief? You have to believe in yourself first. If you do, then other people will too. Only most people don'tbelieve in themselves. They point to their Bible or their flag or their whatnots, but that's not believing in yourself. That's believing in things—things outsideof yourself. Most people don't know who they really are, so they can'tbelieve in themselves."

It was a big thought. I turned it over and over in my mind, trying to look at it from his side and my side and my other side as well. Charles and Maura. I almost didn't want to go back to being Chigger. Not because I wanted to be a girl. But because I didn't want to go back to the war zone. I knew I didn't really have a choice, and I was glad about that, because if it was a choice between one or the other, I didn't know which one I'd choose. I liked it when Douglas told that woman to take her hand off me. I liked it when he was kind.

"Can I tell you one more thing?"

I nodded.

"I think you're going to be okay. You're a good kid. You're smart. You're going to sort things out all right, I'm sure of it. It might take a while, but you're not out here alone. You've got Douglas on your side. And me too, if that counts for anything."

I smiled at him. I hadn't smiled in a long time. The expression felt unfamiliar. But nice. And then, not knowing what else to do, I hugged him. I'm not real good at hugging, but he was. He pulled me close and let me lean on his strength. I could see why Douglas cared for him so much.

The train was rising again. We were approaching another pylon. That meant we were finally out of the Jumble. That made me feel a little better. The bad news was that we were rising into the sunlight.

A few moments later, Gabri came through the car and closed all the window shades on the left side, and we went back to join the others.

AT THE MOUNTAINS OF MADNESS

We never made it to Gagarin.

We came out of the Jumble and began a long series of descending steps across an uneven sunlit plain. Because the sun was as low on the horizon as it could get without actually setting, everything was etched in stark relief; the shadows were long sideways fingers, and whenever we passed behind an outcrop, the shadows plunged the left side of the train into darkness; when we came out into the sunlight again, the whole car flashed with light. Everything nickered with annoying randomness.

This went on for the better part of an hour. Now I understood some of the remarks I'd overheard on the earlier part of our journey—that the trip to Gagarin was the most unpleasant ride on Luna. It was hellish and maddening. The only thing that ever changed was the direction of the sunlight as the sun crept around the horizon.

Ahead, somewhere over the sharp edge of the world, were the Mountains of Madness, the perpetually shadowed area that Alexei called the moon's rectum. The place where the sun never shines.Literally. The place where the ice was found.

There was more ice at the Lunar North Pole than there was at the south, so most of the major installations were on the top of the moon, not the bottom; but LunarCo, Exxon, and BabelCorp, had put down test shafts, dropped in storage tanks and processing plants. They also bought a lot of water from freelancers—including invisibles. According to Mickey, this was one of the major channels for the unseen population to tap into the Lunar economy. Ice-dollars financed much of the phantom community.

Mickey lowered his voice, and added, "Some people think the water companies finance the invisibles to cover up other projects of their own, secretones. There are a lot of secrets on Luna."

We entered shadow then, and Gabri announced that we could raise the window shades again; Samm and Janos both did so. Now the train was circling around the outer ring of the Mountains of Madness. We passed frighteningly close to some of the outcrops.

The train was rising up the cable to a place called Borgo Pass. From there, we'd descend into Gagarin. But as we approached the pass, the train began to slow, and Gabri came back on the intercom. "We're going to make an unscheduled stop here. I apologize for the inconvenience. Please stay in your seats. We won't be long." A few moments later, we stopped, suspended in space. Samm began to laugh.

Janos looked at him. "What?"

Samm pointed out the window. "This is it. This is what it looks like to be caught between a rock and a hard place."

Janos got it and started laughing too. And then I did. And then even Pattycakes, even though I doubted she understood the reference. But the timing of it was perfect. We needed something silly. We sat there and giggled at each other. And every time it seemed the laughter was starting to die down, one or the other of us would get the joke all over again and erupt in a new burst of whoops, and then that would set the others off again. It was kind of like the farting contests we used to have in the front closet, but without the beans.

Still laughing, Janos pointed out the window. The rocks were rising around us. Our laughter died away abruptly. The train was lowering to the ground below. We were meeting someone.

"Uh-oh … " I said.

"Yep," agreed Janos. "I sort of expected something like this." Samm started to rise to his feet, but Janos pulled him back down. "Just wait," he said. "Let's see how this plays out."

There were some clanksand thumpsfrom below—I recognized them as the sound of a pressure tube extending and connecting. A moment later, Gabri came back through the passenger compartment. She came directly to us, and said, "Come with me. Quickly. Bring your things."

We grabbed what little luggage we had and followed her down the ladder to the lower level of the train, where Alexei had just popped open the hatch to whatever waited below. "Hurry now. Gabri has a schedule. We mustn't take advantage of her good nature. That is my job." He turned to her, and they exchanged another more-than-friendly kiss. "I am lucky man to be so engaged," he said to her. "We will have happy Luna home, very soon, I promise."

Abruptly, he turned his attention back to us. "Hurry now!" he commanded in a very different tone of voice. I followed Douglas down the ladder, hand over hand. Mickey came down behind us. Alexei handed down the BRENGLE-TUCKER crates he'd relabeled at Prospector's Station—there were six of them—then he dropped lightly down to join us. The hatch above slammed shut with annoying finality. A few predictable clanksand bumps,and the train was gone.

It was dark down here. And cold. Cold enough to make our breath visible. This place had been sitting uninhabited for a while. We were inside another of the ubiquitous cargo pods. Like most of the other pods we'd seen on Luna, it had been converted into living spaces; it was a horizontal tube divided into upper and lower levels. But this one wasn't a stationary installation. It was a single pod, laid onto a six-wheeled chassis to form a grand two-story vehicle. A rolling house. We could see the tops of the wheels just outside the windows.

"Welcome to the Beagle, my portable Luna home!" said Alexei, spreading his arms grandly. Samm and Janos exchanged a glance. Alexei switched on some lights, not a lot—just enough to see by. "Well, one of my homes anyway. This is not where I normally park Mr. Beagle, but I phone ahead and it comes to meet us at train. You like, da?I call it Beagle, because it is faithful like a puppy dog."

"This is Mr. Beagle?" Douglas asked incredulously.

" Da!We were never in danger. Not really. Oh, you thought Mr. Beagle was person, didn't you?" While he talked, he was securing crates. "Excuse me if I do not turn on too much lights. We do not want to give ourselves away to Mister-Nosy-Eye-In-The-Sky." He pointed to somewhere beyond the ceiling, where unseen satellites watched the comings and goings of every uncamouflaged heat source on Luna.

"Make yourself homely, we still have long way to go. Mickey, Douglas, no more Samm and Janos evening. Charles you can be boy again if you wish. You too, Bobby. Here are toilet and bath bags. Time for a nice wash, everyone. Before we all turn stinky. No offense, Bobby. I mean stinky for real. There are sodas in fridge, flash-meals too. Help yourselves. I have much work to do before I can be host. Please excuse."

For a moment, we all just stood there and looked at each other, embarrassed. Had we really imagined that Alexei wanted to kill us—?

Alexei busied himself with housekeeping tasks—turning up the heat, checking the oxygen and humidity levels, testing hull integrity and air pressure, making sure the air circulators were functioning, monitoring the water supply, double-checking the batteries and fuel cells, and other chores of that nature. "Hokay, all boards are green. Vehicle phoned to tell me same, before we arrive here, but I check twice anyway."