Unofficially, Jinny had come to the station to hitch a ride to Moonbase. It wasn’t as simple as catching a bus, of course, but for a former director of’the base and a pretty important company official, the rules couldtbe stretched a little. She only wanted to visit Moonbase for a day or so, just long enough to talk with Joanna Stavenger face to face. Jinny was convinced that what she had to ask Joanna couldn’t be done any other way. I’ve got to see the whites of her eyes when I pop the question to her.
“What’s that LTV out there doing?” she asked as casually as she could.
The youngster turned lazily as he floated along the access tube so he could look back at her. “Special job,” he answered. “Rumble is that there are some big gasbags coming up from Savannah, on their way to Moonbase. Ultra VIP. They pooched out a backup LTV just to take them up to the base, quickie-quick.”
“How many?” Jinny asked.
“Dunno,” the kid said. “Two or three, from what I heard. Could be more, but not enough to fill a whole passenger pod.”
Jinny smiled to herself. There’s my ride. Quickie-quick.
It was startlingly easy to talk her way onto the special LTV. Most of the crew at the station knew her; most of the senior crew, at least. There was plenty of spare capacity aboard the nearly-empty LTV, and an extra body visiting Moonbase for a couple of days wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows — especially when the body was a former base director.
Jinny was supposed to get permission from the current base director, of course, but she knew how to get around that problem. She simply accessed the proper file from the station’s mainframe and okayed her own trip, using the computer codes that hadn’t been changed since she’d been running Moonbase. Easy.
I’ll say hello to Greg Masterson when I get there, she told herself. See his eyes pop.
There were only two other passengers in the LTV’s personnel pod. Jinny recognized the fat old guy as Professor Zimmerman, the nanotech whiz who had saved Doug Stavenger’s life after the big solar flare the previous year. The woman with him looked familiar, but Jinny couldn’t place her. She had ’California’ written all over her sandy-haired, tanned features. They ignored Jinny almost completely, talking to each other with deep seriousness as the LTV’s co-pilot ducked in to make sure they were buckled safely into their seats.
Silly safety regulation, Jinny thought. This bucket won’t put out enough thrust to slosh the coffee in a cup, even on a high-energy burn to Moonbase. Still, when the red light came on and the rockets lit, she felt herself squeezed back into her seat.
It was impossible to eat, sleep and go to the bathroom over the thirty-six-hour length of their flight without saying anything to the other passengers. When Jinny went past them to get to the meal dispenser, she hovered weightiessly by their seats long enough to say hello to Professor Zimmerman. The old man didn’t remember her at first, but when he started to unstrap and politely get up from his chair, his face went pale.
“Please, stay in your seat,” Jinny pleaded. “The rules of etiquette are different in zero gee.” Inwardly, she wanted to make sure that the flatlander didn’t puke all over her.
With an effort to maintain his dignity even while seated, Zimmerman introduced Professor Kristine Cardenas to Jinny.
Soon the three of them were talking together the way passengers on a trip will, strangers yet shipmates. Jinny found that Cardenas was also an expert in nanotechnology and they were both going to Moonbase at the personal request of Joanna Stavenger.
She also learned that their real reason for allowing Joanna to coax them up to Moonbase was almost exactly the same as Jinny’s own motivation.
“Perhaps we should pool our resources,” Zimmerman said. He was obviously uncomfortable in zero gee; Cardenas looked a little green, too. Jinny had gone to the meal dispenser for them and brought them prepackaged trays. And slow-release anti-nausea patches, which they both stuck behind their ears.
“What do you mean?” Jinny asked. It was impossible to eat in zero gee without spraying crumbs and droplets all around. The compartment’s air circulation sucked them up — slowly — into the ventilator grids along the ceiling.
Zimmerman started to gesture with his hands, then thought better of it. “You know the Stavenger woman much better than I or even Kristine. You could help us to convince her to allow us to remain at Moonbase indefinitely.”
“I work for her,” Jinny said, “but I can’t say that I know her very well. Not socially.”
Kris Cardenas said, “Still, if we all want the same thing, we ought to present a united front.”
Fine by me,” said Jinny, delighted to have a Nobel prizewinner and her mentor as unexpected allies.
Greg’s face looked like a storm cloud, when he stepped into the reception area beneath the rocket landing pads.
“What’s the matter?” Joanna asked him.
“Jinny Anson,” he snapped.
“Jinny?”
“She’s on the incoming ship, with Cardenas and Zimmerman.”
“But she’s supposed to be in Houston.”
“She’s on the ship. She thought she’d sneak in here without my knowing it. Thought I wouldn’t bother checking the LTV’s manifest.”
Joanna immediately recognized the problem. Naturally Greg would be suspicious of having the former director of the base suddenly pop in for a visit. Especially when she hasn’t told anyone she’s coming or even asked permission to make the trip.
“They’ll be corning down in a few minutes,” Greg said, in a tight-throated whisper. “Flight control has locked in on them.”
Joanna nodded wordlessly, wondering what she could do or say to ease his misery.
“Where’s Doug?” Greg asked her.
“He went up to the observation bubble,” she said. “He likes to watch the spacecraft land.”
Greg made a sour face. Everything’s a game to Doug; just a big entertainment. Impatiently he went to the wall panel beside the hatch and flicked on the intercom.
“Fifteen… right down the pipe,” said the flight controller’s voice. “Ten… five…”
“Green light,” a different voice announced. The spacecraft’s pilot, Greg assumed.
“Touchdown confirmed.”
“Shutting down.”
“Base power connected. The snake’s on its way.”
Greg paced impatiently across the small room. Doug came in through the door from the flight control center.
“Hi, Greg,” he said.
His half-brother gave him a dark look in return. Joanna thought how strange it was that they could both wear the same color coveralls, but Doug’s sky-blue jumpsuit looked bright and sunny while Greg’s seemed somehow darker, more ominous.
“This is your doing, isn’t it?” Greg snapped.
“My doing? What?”
“Bringing Anson here.”
“Jinny Anson?” Doug looked genuinely surprised. “She’s aboard this ship?”
Greg waved a finger in Doug’s face. “Don’t play innocent with me, Doug. I know what you’re doing, you and your Operation Bootblack.”
“I didn’t know Jinny Anson was coming here until this moment,” Doug said evenly.
“You’re a liar!”
Joanna’s breath caught in her throat. Greg stood red-faced before his half-brother, slightly taller but much slimmer. Doug seemed stunned by the accusation, his face frozen with shock, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
“That’s quite enough,” Joanna said, stepping between them. “I won’t stand for you two fighting like this.”
But Doug smiled and stepped back, his hands relaxing. “Honestly, Greg, I’m just as surprised as you are that Jinny’s come here. As for Operation Bootstrap, okay, we’re trying to make Moonbase profitable without costing you any cash flow. It’s all to your benefit, really.”
“Really?” Greg sneered.
“Really,” said Doug as pleasantly as a springtime breeze.
The airlock hatch’s signal-chikie interrupted them. Joanna and her two sons turned to the heavy metal hatch as the indicator light on its/panel turned from red to amber and one of the mission controllers came hustling into the reception area. She was a petite, almost frail-looking young woman, wearing the gray coveralls of the transportation division. Why do they give the heaviest jobs to the smallest kids? Joanna wondered. The hatch had to be swung open manually, and even though there was a pilot and co-pilot on this flight, standard procedure was for one of the controllers to be on hand to open the hatch from this side, if necessary.