“What for?”
“Yuri wants to rack up points with Captain Vandez and hope the word gets back to Commander Aarons about what a sharp guy our Yuri is. He’s not dumb.”
“Aren’t you being a little cynical?”
“Every realist is at first called a cynic.” he pontificated.
“You don’t think I should go?”
“You’re just giving him a break. After all, you and I have been out in the Walker before, doing odd jobs. The guys here at the base know you’re not a Johnny-come-lately.”
“The work has to be done.” I said firmly. “The project is more important—”
“Okay, okay,” Zak said, rolling his eyes. “Go ahead. Tramp the icy wastes with Yuri for the glory of the ISA. I’ll stay here and write terrible things about you in my diary and starve to death.”
I gritted my teeth, thinking. I was nervous and jittery. A small voice was nagging me in the back of my mind. Don’t be a sucker, it said. It had some good arguments, too.
But I knew, finally, what was right. So I went back to Vandez and volunteered again.
“Look, we can’t all be like you,” I said to Zak, later.
“Uh huh.”
Zak wanted me to go out and see if any girls were around the base, just in case we’d missed any. To amuse him while I was gone, he said. “Didn’t you bring your tapes?” I asked him. “Just conjure up ol’ Rebecca. She’ll keep you delighted.”
“Don’t knock her, kid,” he said, smiling cynically. “She’ll make me a buck yet.”
“Uh huh,” I said, and went to sleep.
I woke up that night, sweating.
The dream had come back again. I’d thought it was gone for good, but no—my pajamas were soaked, my heart pounding. I was breathing in short, desperate gasps.
And I was in that sun-bleached Costa Mesa schoolyard again. The two Chicano kids had backed me up against a wall. They were elaborately casual, chewing gum, sneaking amused looks at each other.
“Smart kid. aren’t ya?” the biggest one said. He put his hand on my chest and gave me a light shove. I stepped back to keep my balance.
My lip trembled. “I’m not slow, if that’s what you mean.”
The big one looked over at his friend. “They always got somethin’ ta say. Little smartasses.”
The second kid punched me in the shoulder. I moved back and felt the rough brick wall behind me. There were more Chicano kids behind these two now; a crowd was gathering.
“He’s gonna fly off into space, too,” the big one said to the crowd. “Too good for us compres down here in the mud.”
“I don’t see any mud here.” I said, my voice sounded weak and distant. “Just dust.”
The big one whirled around, fists clenched, face reddening. “You’re always right, ain’t cha, kid? Mebbe you oughtta taste dust.”
He hit me in the face. I felt something break in my nose. Somebody punched me in the side. Suddenly everybody was shouting. I tried to take a swing at someone, anyone. The big kid cuffed my fist aside and slapped me again, laughing. There was a buzzing in my ears.
I tried to run. Something struck me in the stomach and I stumbled, reaching out. The crowd was all around me. They were thick and close and everywhere I turned arms pushed me away. They spun me around in a circle, taunting me, calling names.
I struck out blindly. I was crying, begging them, throwing punches in a red mist that smothered me. I heard them jeering. Something smashed me hard in the stomach. I went down.
The noise washed over me. Somebody kicked me and I felt a sudden stab of pain in my ribs. The dust clogged my nose. I choked.
The world seemed to blur and drift away. I grunted, clawing at the dirt, and rolled over. The jeering was a hollow echo, an animal chorus.
I felt a wetness on my lips. I licked at it, thinking my nose was bleeding. I felt a spattering on my face. Somewhere kids were laughing, jeering.
I licked my broken lips again. Then I caught it: the warm, acrid smell. The stench of urine…
“Matt! Hey, what’s the matter?” Zak was shaking me.
I realized I must have been moaning, half-awake. I gulped and deliberately slowed my breathing. “An old nightmare.”
“Must be pretty bad,” Zak said sympathetically.
At that moment I really needed a friend. So I told him about it. I’d never mentioned it before, even to my parents. But this time it was worse than ever before. I felt as if I had to tell somebody.
“Wow,” Zak said when I was finished. “That happened just before your family was selected for the Project?”
“It’s my last clear memory of Earth. I was eight.”
“The nightmare keeps coming back, huh? That explains a lot.”
“Explains what?”
“You’re known all over the Can as a monomaniac, a hustler. Working is your life, Matt. The psychers make you take time off, like the rest of us, sure. But even here on Ganymede—you were the one who got me into the Walker business, check? You’re always looking for a job, some way to distinguish yourself.”
“Well, of course,” I said irritably. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. But with you it’s a mania. You’ve got to succeed.”
“Uh, maybe…” I began to feel uncomfortable.
“Because if you don’t, you won’t become a JABOL staff member.” Zak paused, thoughtful. “You’ll be shipped Earthside. Back into that schoolyard in—southern California, wasn’t it?—with that zoo of welfare refugees. The heat, the dust, big guys picking on you…”
“Aw, crap. Stop playing Young Freud.”
“You don’t see it, do you? Ever wonder why you get so tense and irritable with Yuri?”
“Because he’s a bastard!”
Zak stared at me. “A big bastard, too, isn’t he? Lots bigger than you. A big kid,” he mused.
“Get this.” I said intensely, “that guy doesn’t scare me. It’s only, sometimes…sometimes I get mad.” I paused for a moment. I didn’t want to talk about this any more.
“Look. I’ve got to get some sleep.” I mumbled.
“Okay,” Zak said noncommittally.
I rolled over, face down into my pillow. Zak clicked off the light.
But I didn’t get much sleep that night.
The next morning I suited up and walked through the scattered buildings that make up the Ganymede base. The Walker was parked at the edge of the base: its mate was off on some other task.
It stood on six legs and was six meters tall. The living quarters were in the bubble set on top. The bubble had big, curved windows facing in all directions, with an extra large one set in front of the driver’s seat. Beneath it, almost lost in a jumble of hydraulic valves and rocker arms, was the entrance ladder.
The Walker was painted bright blue for contrast against the reddish-brown dirty ice of Ganymede. The antenna on top was green, for some reason I have never understood. Underneath the forward antenna snout was neatly printed Perambulatin’ Puss. Everybody called her the Cat.
“Morning!” I recognized Captain Vandez’s voice even over suit radio. He and Yuri walked up to the Cat from the other side of the base. I said hello. Yuri made a little mock salute at me.
“Well, you boys should be able to handle her,” Captain Vandez said. He slapped the side of the Cat. “The ole Puss will take good care of you as long as you treat her right. Replenish your air and water reserves at every way station—do not try to skip one and push on to the next, because you won’t make it. If you fill up at a station and then go to sleep, be sure to top off the tanks before you leave; even sleeping uses up air. And no funny business—stick to the route and make your radio contacts back here sharp on the hour.”