"We are looping over top of moon in a few seconds. Look for north pole; there it is–" He pointed toward the horizon. "See those lights near terminator edge? That is north station. Biggest ice mine on Luna. Be sure to wave at the Rock Father."
"The Rock Father?" Stinky asked. "Who's he?"
"You don't know the Rock Father? Shame on you. Is Lunar legend. Lost Russian spaceman, freezes every Lunar night, wakes up every Lunar day. Is immortal. Lives at Lunar North Pole, like Father Christmas, except he has no reindeer, no elves. Rock Father is everyone's Crazy Uncle Loonie. Plays pranks on ice miners. Steals supplies. Rearranges markers. Hides in shadows where no one can see. One time Rock Father even puts up black featureless monolith in Clavius crater. Proportions one by four by nine. Standing on edge. No footprints anywhere around. Make American explorers much crazy. Rock Father laugh forever."
"But why is he called the Rock Father?" That was me.
"Because he is father of all Loonies. The Rock Father answers all prayers. Mostly, the answer is no. But sometimes not. Rock Father is there once in every life. He answers most important prayer–he knows, even if you don't."
"Do we have to make a wish?" Stinky asked.
"Prayers are not wishes," Alexei said. "But most terries don't know the difference. This is why Rock Father hardly ever listens to terries."
He glanced out the window again. "Hokay, enough." He began herding us back to the other end of the pod. "Is now time for everyone to strap in and get ready for landing. I am afraid landing will be rougher than expected. We are coming in faster than I planned. Not too much faster, but enough. This will be more crunch‑down than bounce‑down. We will rattle a little, but if we precaution properly, we will all be safe–" His PITA beeped, and he shouted, "Whoops–hang on!"
This course change was the longest and roughest one yet. Everything rattled and roared and shook. The monkey slipped out of my grasp and was thrown somewhere down below. I was pinned flat against the top of one of the cargo crates. I didn't see where anyone else was, but when it finally stopped Stinky was crying and Douglas was holding him tight. Mickey had a nosebleed, and even Alexei looked a little shaken; he was a skinny undermuscled Loonie; he probably hurt worse than any of us. But I didn't feel too much sympathy for him, because this had been his idea from the beginning. And he'd suckered the rest of us into joining him.
The monkey came climbing up from below–I was thinking of it as below now–and wrapped itself around me. Absentmindedly, I patted its head. When even the robots get scared, you know you're having a rough time.
"We are fine, we are fine," Alexei assured us, a little too quickly. "Mickey, help me please. We must make sure cabin is ready for bounce‑down. I will inflate interior balloons manually. I start at bottom and work my way up. You will please secure dingalings in web? Space everybody carefully."
I didn't like the sound of that. I was still worrying about the words crunch‑down.And Alexei didn't sound all that confident himself.
Mickey started strapping in Stinky. There were elastic belts set into the bulkhead at various places. He pulled several of them across Stinky's chest to form an X‑harness with a latch at the center.
"See this button?" Mickey explained. "That's the emergency safety release. Don't press it until after we're down and afterwe stop bouncing and rolling. It might take a few minutes. There'll be an all‑clear bell. If you don't hear it, don't press the button. Do you understand, Bobby? You wait until we come and get you. Promise?"
"I promise," Stinky said. He said it thatway, and I already knew how that promise was going to get kept–with him getting loose and bouncing all over the pod as soon as he felt like it. No, Mickey didn't know who he was talking to.
I pulled myself over and faced the devil child squarely. "Listen to me. This is a realpromise, Bobby–not a pretend one. Not one where you say you promise and then do what you want anyway. If you don't keep this promise, you could get hurt. Real badly.You don't want to get hurt, do you?"
"Nuh‑uh."
"Then you absolutely must not under any circumstances whatever, no matter what you think, no matter what happens, press that button–not until Mickey comes and tells you it's okay to press it. Okay?"
"Okay," he said.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise." We hooked pinkies and shook.
I turned to Mickey. "Is there some way to disable that button or put it where he can't reach it?"
Mickey shook his head. "That would defeat the purpose of the emergency release–"
"He's not going to keep his promise," I said.
" Will too!"Stinky shouted at me.
"Will not," I snapped right back.
" Liar! You big liar! I'll show you!"
"I'll bet you a million dollars–"
"I'll bet you a hundred million zillion dollars!"
"Okay, it's a bet. If you push that button without permission, you owe me a hundred million zillion dollars and your monkey."
" Not my monkey!Douglas!"
"Then don't push the button," I said. "Not ever. Not unless Mickey says you can."
Douglas moved between us then. He pushed me back away from Stinky. "Chigger," he whispered. "Was that necessary?"
I whispered right back. "You want him to stay in the harness, no matter what? We're talking about Stinky. Logic and promises won't do it. He'll only do it if he can spite someone."
Douglas got it. "Y'know, he's a lot like you."
"Yeah, I know–that's how I know he'll push the button. Because I would."
Douglas didn't want to argue. There wasn't time anyway. He pulled himself back toward Mickey and whispered something in his ear. Mickey nodded.
Douglas came back to me. "Come on, Charles. It's time to buckle you in. We'll put you in this harness, close to Bobby." He pulled me into position and began pulling straps down, the same way Mickey had strapped in Stinky. "I'll be on the other side. Mickey will be up there, and Alexei will be down there. That should balance the weight fairly evenly."
He struggled with the latches for a bit–he couldn't get the X‑harness centered on my chest–until Mickey came over to help. He loosened two of the belts, pushed me sideways, then tightened them again. He leaned in and whispered to me, "You're very convincing, you know that? Douglas thinks we should tranquilize Bobby again. It's safer. It'll make things harder on the ground, someone will have to carry him. But if you really think he can't be trusted–"
I thought about all the times someone had told him not to do something–and how quickly he'd done exactlywhat he'd been forbidden to do. Like running down into the Barringer Meteor Crater. Like calling Mom from One‑Hour station after Dad had told him not to. He did this stuff deliberately–as if to prove that no one could control him. No one.
Mickey saw it in my face. "I really hate to do it to a little kid like that … "
"He's nota little kid," I said. "His middle name is Caligula."
Mickey sighed. "All right. Do you want a sedative too? This could get pretty rough."
I considered it. I thought about all the burns we'd already been through. It was very tempting. But … I shook my head. "I'd better not."
"You sure?"
"No. Yes. You said it's going to be hard enough to carry Stinky. Who's going to carry me?"
"Good point." He finished securing me in the webbing. "I was hoping you would say that, but Douglas asked me to make the offer. That's pretty courageous of you, Charles. Here, put this O‑mask over your face."