Sam nodded knowingly as we tramped along under the watchful eyes of the six Warriors.
“This is the old shelter complex for the top Rumanian government officials,” he told me as we walked. “From back in the Cold War days, when they were afraid of nuclear attack.”
“But that was almost a century ago,” Josella said.
Sam answered, “Yeah, but the president of Rumania and his cronies kept the complex going for years afterward. Sort of an underground pleasure dome for the big shots in the government. Wasn’t discovered by their taxpayers until one of the bureaucrats fell in love with one of the call girls and spilled the beans to the media so he could run off with her.”
“How do you know?” I asked him.
“The happy couple works for me up in Selene City. He’s my chief bookkeeper now and she supervises guest services at the hotel.”
“What kind of hotel are you running up there in Selene?” Greg asked.
Sam answered his question with a grin. Then he turned back to me and said, “This complex has several exits, all connected to old mine shafts.”
Lowering my voice, I asked, “Can we get away from these Warriors and get out of here?”
Sam made a small shrug. “There’s six of them and they’ve all got guns. All we’ve got is trickery and deceit.”
“So what—”
“When I say ‘beans,’ ” Sam whispered, “shut your eyes tight, stop walking, and count to ten slowly.”
“Why…?”
“Tell Greg,” he said. Then he edged away from me to whisper in Josella’s ear. I felt my face burning.
“What are you saying?” one of the Warriors demanded.
Sam put on a leering grin. “I’m asking her if she’s willing to grant the condemned man his last request.”
The Warrior laughed. “We have requests to make also.”
“Fool!” their leader snapped. “We are consecrated to the Faith. We have foresworn the comforts of women.”
“Only until we have executed the dog.”
“Yes,” chimed another Warrior. “Once the pig is slain, we are free of our vows.”
A third added, “Then we can have the prisoners.” He smiled at Greg.
“Now wait,” Sam said. He stopped walking. “Let me get one thing straight. Am I supposed to be a pig or a dog?”
The leader stepped up to him. “You are a pig, a dog, and a piece of camel shit.”
The man loomed a good foot over Sam’s stubby form. Sam shrugged good-naturedly and said, “I guess you’re entitled to your opinion.”
“Now walk,” said the leader.
“Why should I?” Sam stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
A slow smile wormed across the leader’s lean face. “Because if you don’t walk I will break every bone in your face.”
They were all gathered around us now, all grinning, all waiting for the chance to start beating up on Sam. I realized we were only a few feet away from another airlock hatch.
“You just don’t know beans about me, do you?” Sam asked sweetly.
I squeezed my eyes shut but the glare still burned through my closed lids so brightly that I thought I’d go blind. I remembered to count… six, seven. . .
“Come on!” Sam grabbed at my arm. “Let’s get going!”
I opened my eyes and still saw a burning afterimage, as if I had stared directly into the sun. The six Warriors were down on their knees, whimpering, pawing madly at their eyes, their rifles strewn across the floor.
Sam had Josella by the wrist with one hand. With the other he was pulling me along.
“Let’s move!” he commanded. “They won’t be down for more than a few minutes.”
Greg stooped down and took one of the laser rifles.
“Do you know how to use that?” Sam asked.
Greg shook his head. “I feel better with it, though.”
We raced to the hatch, pushed it open, squeezed through it, and then swung it shut again. Sam spun the control wheel as tightly as he could.
“That won’t hold them for more than a minute,” he muttered.
We ran. Of the four of us I was the slowest. Josella sprinted ahead on her long legs, with Greg not far behind. Sam stayed back with me, puffing almost as badly as I was.
“We’re both out of shape,” he panted.
“We’re both too old for this kind of thing,” I said.
He looked surprised, as if the idea of getting old had never occurred to him.
“What did you do back there?” I asked, as we staggered down the corridor.
“Miniaturized high-intensity flash lamp,” Sam said, puffing. “For priming mini-lasers.”
“You just happened …” I was gasping.”… to have one … on you?”
“Been carrying a few,” he wheezed, “ever since the fanatics started making threats.”
“Good thinking.”
We found a shaft and climbed up into the sweet clean air of a pine forest. It was cold; there was a dusting of snow on the ground. Our feet got thoroughly soaked and we were shivering as Sam pushed us through the woods.
“Clearing,” he kept telling us. “We gotta get to a clearing.”
We found a clearing at last, and the thin sunshine filtering through the gray clouds felt good after the chill shadows of the forest. Sam made us close our eyes again and he set off another of his flash bulbs.
“Surveillance satellites oughtta see that,” he said. “Now it’s just a matter of time to see who gets us first, the Peacekeepers or the dog-pig guys.”
It was the Peacekeepers, thank goodness. Two of their helicopters came clattering and whooshing down on that little clearing while a pair of jump-jets flew cover high overhead. I was never so happy to see that big blue and white symbol in my life.
The Peacekeepers had mounted a full search-and-rescue operation. Their helicopter was spacious, comfortable, and even soundproofed a little. They thought of everything. While Sam filled in one of their officers on the layout of the Rumanian shelter complex, two enlisted personnel brought us steaming hot coffee and sandwiches. It made me realize that we hadn’t eaten or slept in close to twenty-four hours.
I was starting to drowse when I heard Sam ask, over the muted roar of the ’coptor’s turbines, “Who were those guys?”
The Peacekeeper officer, in her sky-blue uniform, shook her head. “Neither the Daughters of the Mother nor the Warriors of God are listed in our computer files.”
“Terrorists,” Greg Molina said. “Religious fanatics.”
“Amateurs,” said Josella Ecks, with a disdainful curl of her lip.
That startled me. The way she said it. But the need for sleep was overpowering my critical faculties. I cranked my seat back and closed my eyes. The last thing I saw was Sam holding Josella’s hand and staring longingly into her deep, dark, beautifully lashed eyes.
I wanted to murder her but I was too tired.
SAM WENT TO Selene the next day and, sure enough, Josella went with him. Greg Molina returned to Quito, dropping in to my office just before he left.
“Will the trial be held in The Hague or at Selene?” he asked.
“Wherever,” I groused, seething at the thought of Sam and Josella together a quarter-million miles away.
“I assume there will be a trial, since there was no agreement at the pretrial hearing,” he said.
Grimly, I answered, “It certainly looks that way.”
Looking slightly worried, “If it’s on the Moon, will I have to go there? Or can I participate electronically?”
“It would be better if you were there in person.”
“I’ve never been in space,” he admitted.
“There’s nothing to it,” I said. “It’s like flying in an airplane.”
“But the lack of gravity…”
“You’ll get used to it in a day or so. You’ll enjoy it,” I assured him.