I wished I could have talked to Dad. Or even Mom.
What would they say if they could see me now–their pregnant daughter? Or was I their daughter‑in‑law?
I knew what they'd do–they'd look at Douglas, and say, "What the hell are you doing, Douglas? We trusted you with Charles and Bobby, and the next thing we know you've got them both in dresses and makeup? Just what kind of a pervert are you?" And Douglas would get red in the face and storm out, because that would be easier than trying to explain something to someone who wasn't going to listen anyway. No, they wouldn't understand.
Oh, hell. Even I didn't understand.
This was a grown‑up problem. We were in way over our heads. I didn't know what to do, and neither did Douglas. We were at the mercy of Alexei and Mickey and anyone else who chose to push us around their chessboard.
I checked my makeup in the window reflection, reminded myself that I was still Maura Lore‑Fields, the fiancйe of Samm Brengle‑Tucker, got myself back into my pregnant mood, and headed back to my seat.
The lunatic argument had ended badly. The Loonie prospectors were gone, probably moved to another part of the train. But the Earth tourists were still there, chatting amiably away at husband Samm and brother‑in‑law Janos. Janos was asleep, sitting up in his seat. Pattycakes was curled up in his lap, also snoring softly. I envied the both of them. We'd had a long day since bounce‑down, and it still wasn't over. What time was it anyway?
The old lady looked up as I approached. "Are you feeling better, dear?" she asked. She reached over and patted my knee again. "It's the food, you know. The food here on Luna–they process all the life out of it. It's not good for your baby. You need fresh fruit and vegetables. Food from Earth."
What an idiot! I wanted to tell her that all the processed food came from Earth. Luna‑grown food was always fresh. The farms were needed to produce oxygen as well as food, so there was always a surplus everywhere. It was practically free. Alexei would have told her that, he would have given her a half hour monologue on the economics of food production in a self‑sustaining Lunar society–but I didn't want to talk to the old lady at all. She repulsed me. She was a guest here, breathing the Lunar air, drinking the Lunar water, eating the Lunar food–and insulting Lunar hospitality with every sentence. Didn't she realize how stupid she looked to everyone? How could anyone be so thick? I hoped I never looked so thoughtless.
I sat down next to my husband and my little girl and snuggled up to them protectively. Not because I was acting, but because I honestly needed the physical reassurance of their strength. Samm must have sensed my need, because he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.
The old lady said something to her husband about how charming it was to see young people in love. "We know what you're going through, darling."
I ignored her. I turned my head into my husband's shoulder and stayed that way for a long moment, just breathing in the fresh clean smell of him. He kissed me gently on the forehead. Was that part of the act? Or was he showing me he really cared? I chose to believe it meant he knew I needed reassurance. Just as Bobby still needed a mommy, so did I still need … someone. Maybe not a mommy or a daddy. I'd already had one of each, and that hadn't turned out all that well. But someone.
I could see why Douglas needed Mickey. He was feeling just like me, just like Bobby–he needed someone too. But I still hadn't figured out why Mickey wantedDouglas. Why would anyone want an Earth‑nerd with two whiny brothers and a monkey?
The monkey.
"Oh!" I said, aloud.
My husband,Samm looked at me curiously. "Are you all right?"
I put my hand on my belly. "The monkey," I said. And then covered quickly. "It just kicked." The old lady opposite smiled sympathetically. I grabbed Samm's hand and put it on my belly. "Feel–?"
"I don't feel anything–"
"Wait–" I shifted my position so I could put my mouth up to his ear without being overheard. He figured out what I was doing and turned his head to mine–just like a faithful husband. "Alexei is trying to kill us,"I whispered carefully.
" Smart girl,"he whispered back, just as slowly. "When did you figure it out?"
I felt myself relax. He knew.It was going to be all right. Samm and Janos knew.
" What are we going to do?"
" Play along,"he whispered back. "At least till we get to Gagarin."
" I know what he wants."
" Yeah, so do I."He patted my belly affectionately.
"I know why he wants it."
" Why?"
" It's alive."I whispered slowly so he'd get it the first time. "Human Analog Replicant, Lethetic Intelligence Engine."
He jerked his hand away, startled. I grabbed it and pushed it firmly back down onto the monkey.
"It kicked," he said, smiling with embarrassment at the old lady opposite. She was beaming at us like a blue‑haired vulture. She looked like she wanted to play Instant Gramma. No thanks. Her perfume was thick and cloying. I wanted to tell her to please go away.
Husband Samm was looking at my swollen belly with renewed respect. "It's a HARLIE? You really think so?"he whispered.
" It told me so itself."
" Oh."
" Yeah, ain't that a kick in the stomach?"
" Don't tell anyone yet."
I buried my face in his neck for a bit. I was really scared. "We need to talk. Alone."
He didn't answer. He must have been thinking about the how and the where. There really wasn't a lot of room on the train. All three cars of it were filled with storage crates. There were people in all the seating areas. The only place we hadn't explored was the pilot's cabin up front. Alexei had disappeared up there almost immediately. Of course–he didn't need to watch over us when there wasn't anyplace we could go. Besides, everyone else was already watching us. Especially a bright‑eyed old lady who thought she knew something. We only had privacy in our heads.
"Excuse me," she said. Right on schedule. "I couldn't help overhearing a little. You're talking about baby names, aren't you."
"Uh, yes," said Samm. Very hesitantly. What can of worms was he opening here?
She pushed right in. "Well, I don't mean to intrude, but I really do feel I should say something and share a bit of the wisdom I've gathered in life." She took a breath. A bad sign. She was warming up for a long speech. "Charlie is a verybad name for a child." My smile froze–
"Look at all the terrible people who have been named Charles. All kinds of mass murderers and cult leaders and crazy things like that. You don't want to curse your child with a name like that. Nothing good will come of it. The boy will spend his whole life fighting his name–"
Samm squeezed my hand. Hard.
"Even worse, people will call him Chuck," she continued. "You don't want that. Chuck is a very bad‑luck name. You know the story, don't you, about Chuck the Bad Luck Fairy. I've never known anyone named Chuck who could be depended on. They still act like children, very irresponsible. No, it's not a name for a grown‑up, and it's a dangerous name for a child anyway. His little friends will tease him unmercifully, you know. They'll make up little poems, you know how children do. And you know what they'll rhyme it with–"