Maria came awake to hideous pain in her right foot. When the demon noticed she had opened her eyes, it grabbed her by her shoulders and roughly sat her up, pinning her with one hand against the wall. When she looked down, she gasped at the sight of her foot. It was horribly swollen, misshapen, and covered with purple bruises. Pain radiated from it in waves. When she sobbed, the demon brutally wrenched her left ring finger until it snapped. Maria, surrendering the last tatters of her courage, screamed.
“That will be all, BKD4284,” Truvia said, floating in from the hatch. She swung her slippers into the foot loops beside the cot. The demon grunted and backed away.
“Thank you,” Maria whispered as weightless tears pooled beneath her eyes before floating into the air.
Truvia caught one of the tears on a finger, pondered it, and then flicked it away. “I watched while the demon crushed your foot. You are incredibly strong. Usually people pass out in a minute, perhaps two. You lasted five.”
“What do you want?” Maria asked through cracked lips. “Why are you doing this?”
“You will come to understand. Might I show you something?”
When Maria didn’t reply, Truvia drew a rectangle in the air that was filled with a picture of a man and woman with white-painted faces and green-painted lips. Both were dressed in luxurious purple robes and had golden crowns on their heads. “Do you know who this is?”
Maria watched through half-open eyes. “The king and queen of the New Orleans Mardi Gras?”
“Still the clever girl, but no, they were once my king and queen. His name was Raleigh. Her name was Porella. They were human persons. You see, I am not a human person although I am similar. Just as with the crowhoppers and the demons, I was born in a petri dish, my genes manipulated to make me extremely intelligent, to have a commanding presence yet be subservient. Our king and queen were scientists before they became royalty. They invented the process of cell manipulation that produced the crowhoppers, the demons, and Trainers like me. We lived to serve our king and queen, but now they are gone.”
“Too bad,” Maria said, closing her eyes as more pain-induced tears pooled around them. Weightless, their surface tension held them in place.
Truvia’s lips trembled. “They were captured when our territory was attacked after the last war. Within hours of their capture, they were hung. The rest of us were hunted down and slaughtered. Only a few survive. I am part of that remnant.”
Maria struggled to rise above the pain. When she batted her eyes, the pool of tears were sprayed into the air. She watched them drift away, then asked, “Is this about revenge? I had nothing to do with any of this. I am only a businesswoman.”
Truvia was also watching the tears. Turning back to Maria, she put our her hand and touched Maria’s face and stroked her cheek. “We think you are much more than that.” Truvia tilted her head quizzically. “May I ask you something? What are your thoughts about history?”
Maria’s foot hurt so very bad, but to avoid further punishment, she persevered to answer. “I was never much interested in history. Give me a statistics class anytime.”
“Without a knowledge of our past, how is it possible to predict our future?”
“I don’t ever go past predicting quarterly profits.”
“Then it is necessary you be taught. The history of humanity is all about war and death. The pain you feel is a metaphor for the history of humanity on Earth.”
“But there is also kindness and love—” Maria screamed when Truvia suddenly gripped her destroyed foot.
“Do not speak of such things,” Truvia cautioned. “Not yet.”
“Sorry!” Maria gasped out.
“What do you want more than anything in the world and its moon?”
Maria could not help herself. Although it disgusted her to show such weakness in front of this awful woman, she wept. Truvia watched benignly until Maria regained control. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I am going to leave you now,” Truvia said, removing a small leather case from the pouch that hung across her shoulder. From it, she removed an old-fashioned syringe. “Your arm, please,” she said. When Maria didn’t lift her arm, Truvia said, “Do you want the demon to return?”
Maria shook her head and held up her arm. Truvia injected the contents of the syringe into it and then put it back into the leather case and into the pouch. “This will help you to concentrate.”
Once more Truvia drew a rectangle in the air and a picture began to fill it. Maria saw that it was a pastoral scene of grazing sheep and contented cattle. Before long, men were shown gathering up the animals, and then there were scenes of them being slaughtered, the men laughing, which morphed into people being slaughtered and other people laughing and killing, their bodies covered with blood. Then the scene changed to one that showed people being whipped while constructing monuments, the pyramids and statues of the gods, followed by vivid scenes of battles with swords flying, blood spattering—it went on and on. Maria tried to shut her eyes to hide from the pictures but found she couldn’t do it. The images pounded into her brain. Then it stopped and she heard a single word. HATE. The scenes began again and went on for a very long time. Then the word again, and after more scenes of abominations, again. HATE. “Yes,” Maria said after a time. “Yes, I hate. I hate you. I hate me. I hate everything. Is that what you want to hear? I hate that people ever lived and I was ever born!”
ELEVEN
During the short hop from Adolphus to Armstrong City, Crater sat on a bench across from Crescent, who refused to look at him. “Would you please stop being so angry at me?” he asked on their private frequency as they topped the parabolic arc and started to descend.
Crescent glanced at him. “I’m not angry.”
“I think you are.”
“I’m just sitting here minding my own business, which, by the way, is always a good idea. For everyone. Even you.”
Crater made a hapless gesture. “I know you’re mad at me because I want to rescue Maria, but why wouldn’t I? She’s my friend. And now we’ve got a contract to do it, paid in gold. Rescuing her is for the good of the company.”
Crescent had just about enough of Crater Trueblood and his idiotic excuses for why he was going to get himself killed for a woman he loved who didn’t love him back. “Leave me alone,” she said, “or I will get out my knife and stab you like I did the first time we met, and then I will laugh at you while you bleed.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
Crescent shook her head. Was there anyone more stupid than Crater? Yes, he was a genius at engineering and all that, but otherwise he was a complete scraghead. “Just tell me why we’re going to Armstrong City,” she growled.
“Medaris Enterprises knows where Maria is and who’s got her. We’re going there to get that information.”
“No doubt you’ve forgotten this in your haste, or maybe it just doesn’t matter to you, but crowhoppers are restricted from Armstrong City. I will be arrested on sight.”
“I have not forgotten. You’ll stay with Riley in the jumpcar parking lot. I’ll go alone.”
Crescent shrugged. “Fine.”
Crater peered at her. “Is there anything I can say to cheer you up?”
Crescent’s eyes flashed. “I’m perfectly cheerful, you idiot!”
“Are you in on this rescue or not?”
Crescent lowered her head. She could never leave Crater. “I’m in, I’m in.” She looked up at Crater, searching his eyes for understanding. “Is that good enough for you?”
“Tranquility Base coming up,” Riley reported. “This eagle is about to land.”
After the landing, Crater vacated the jumpcar immediately, as much to get away from Crescent as to speed his rescue of Maria. He hurried down the ladder and into the dustlock to doff his suit and helmet and put on a tunic and strap on a railgun pistol taken from his kit. There were rough neighborhoods in Armstrong City and it never hurt to show a little iron to the locals.
/>
The gillie crawled to his shoulder as he walked into the Neil Armstrong Dome. The people on the streets were moving purposefully along, talking into do4us or going in and out of shops. All were well-dressed, reflecting the general prosperity of Luna’s largest town. Crater also noticed men and women in police uniforms with patches that said ARMSTRONG CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT. A constabulary was something new. Taking note of Crater, two blue-suiters turned toward him, one of them saying, “Excuse me, sir,” in a manner that clearly actually meant “Stop!”
These are not the droids you are looking for, the gillie said from Crater’s shoulder.
“Hush!” Crater hissed.
One of the policemen—his name tag said Jessup—said, “These are not the droi—wait a minute! What does that mean?”
The gillie vibrated as if it was laughing, which it was. The other policeman—his name tag said Kaminski—leaned in for a better look. “What is that thing?” he demanded.
“It’s a gillie,” Jessup said. “They’re illegal.”
“It knows that,” Crater replied. “Can I help you, officers?”
Kaminski ignored Crater. “If it’s illegal, why does he have one?” he asked his partner.
“Gillies aren’t illegal on the moon,” Crater said. “Only on Earth.”
Both policemen turned to look at Crater, their eyes straying to Crater’s belt. “Is that a weapon of some kind?”
“It’s a railgun pistol.”
Jessup held out his hand. “Let me see it.”
Crater handed the pistol over to Jessup, who fondled it, hefted it, pointed it, and then handed it to Kaminski. “Nice,” Kaminski said, “but the new city rules say private citizens can’t carry guns.”
“I’m not a private citizen,” Crater said. “I own the Lunar Rescue Company. We need guns to do what we do.”
“Licensed in Armstrong City?” Kaminski asked with raised eyebrows.
“Cleomedes, actually,” Crater answered.
Kaminski handed the pistol back to Crater. “Put this in your kit. Don’t show it in this town again.”
Both policemen watched carefully until Crater had the pistol zipped inside his kitbag. “We have our eyes on you, boy,” Jessup said. “You cause any trouble, we’ll be on top of you double quick.”
“No trouble, officers. I promise.”
“That gillie is an ugly, slimy thing,” Jessup said.
You’re no prize yourself, the gillie replied.
“Well, thank you, officers,” Crater said, then hurried down a side alley while they glared at him. Once he was away, he griped at the gillie. “What’s wrong with you? You want to get us tossed in the hoosegow?”
You didn’t like my little joke about the droids? Star Wars, Episode 4.
“I know the reference,” Crater grumped, “but not everyone is a fan of twentieth-century cinema.”
Pity. There’s been little since that compares.
Crater walked through the Armstrong Dome and into the Collins Dome and then entered the Medaris Enterprises building. A guard stopped him. “May I help you?”
“I need to see Dr. Medaris’s assistant,” Crater said.
“What for?”
“It’s personal.”
“You’ll need a better reason than that.”
“I have information about Dr. Medaris’s disappearance.”
The guard spoke into his collar. “Fellow down here named—what’s your name, buddy?”
“Crater Trueblood.”
“Named Crater Trueblood wants to see Miss Torricelli. Claims he knows something about Dr. Medaris.”
The guard put his finger to his ear and listened, then said, “All right, I’ll send him up.” He pointed to the elevator. “Third floor. I’ll take that kitbag.”
Crater handed over his kit and took the elevator to the third floor. At a glassed-in office, a slim, young woman rose to greet him. “Mr. Trueblood. I’m Teresa Torricelli, Dr. Medaris’s assistant. May I help you?”
“I want to talk to you about Maria.”
“As it happens, we expected you.”
“You did?”
“We own the farside observation satellite, Mr. Trueblood. You visited the asteroid strike today, did you not?”
“I might have.”
She opened a nearby office door, led Crater inside, then pulled the shades. “Colonel Medaris will speak to you shortly.” The office door clicked behind her.
A few seconds later, Crater heard the booming voice of Colonel John High Eagle Medaris. He also saw the great man in a holographic projection. “Well, Crater, as I recall, the last time I talked to you it was about that girl crowhopper of yours. Then you scooted off on a fastbug. It threw dust in my face.”
“The reason I scooted off was because you had just told me you’d put Crescent outside to die.”
“And then you stole a number of my long-endurance bio-packs,” the Colonel continued. “You became a common thief, Crater. And after all I did for you over the years.”
“Are you referring to the years you overworked and underpaid me?”
“Cry me a river,” the Colonel replied. “I also kept you in Moontown when your adoptive parents were killed on the scrapes. I would have been in my rights to put you on the first truck convoy back to Armstrong City where you’d have probably wandered the streets until somebody put you out of your misery. Now, in your latest show of appreciation, you visit the site of a terrible tragedy that has befallen my telescope project and then barge into my headquarters without an appointment. And why would you do that, I wonder?”
“You know the answer. Because your granddaughter Maria Medaris has been kidnapped.”
“Even if that were true, what business would that be of yours?”
“I am going to rescue her.”
“If Maria requires rescue, I will see to it.”
“Then let me join you.”
“The answer to that is no because I don’t want you. You’re insubordinate and can’t be trusted.”
“You can trust me to give it my all.”
The Colonel leaned forward. “I can trust you to try to fool me. Do you have your gillie with you? Of course you do. I know why you’re here. It’s not to talk to Miss Torricelli. It was so you’d have an excuse to come inside my headquarters building and give your gillie a chance to hack our puters. Well, let that illegal creature hack away. There’s nothing it will find. And if it tries to hack our puters in Moontown, it will find they’re hardened against it. Really, Crater, you’re so transparent.”
“You have me wrong, Colonel.”
“No, I don’t. But let’s explore your motivation for a moment, shall we? I have no doubt you fancy yourself in love with my granddaughter, but let me tell you something. She doesn’t care a whit about you. You’re nothing to her. Nothing! Like you’re nothing to me. Now, this conversation, such as it is, is over. I’m going back to work. I suggest you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. And, Crater?”
“I’m here, Colonel.”
“If you get in my way again, this time I will not only kill your crowhopper. I’ll kill you too.”
The holograph snapped off.
Crater stepped out into the hall where Miss Torricelli was waiting. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“Did you hear?”
“Actually, every word.”
“Is there a place where we can talk?”
Torricelli considered the request then nodded over her shoulder. Crater followed her into a stairwell and up two floors into an unfinished room, the raw mooncrete still curing. “They haven’t gotten around to installing sensors and cameras here,” she said.
“Do you like Maria?” Crater asked.
Miss Torricelli raised her eyebrows. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about her. She’s my boss.”
“Do you want to see her killed?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you need to help me. You know who I am, don’t you?”
“Yes.
You designed the Luna water device that Medaris Enterprises manufactured and sold without your permission. It’s common knowledge that the Colonel stole the design from you. You also saved Dr. Medaris when the crowhoppers attacked this city two years ago. I think you also saved her one other time. On a Cycler, I believe?”
“I’ve saved her twice, and I’d like to save her again, but I need to know who kidnapped her. Tell me who it is.”
“How would I know?”
“Because you’re her assistant and have passwords to everything.”
“I’m really sorry. I just can’t help.”
“Do you know where they’re holding her?”
“Please, Mr. Trueblood. I’ll lose my job. I wish I could be more helpful but I just can’t.”
“Yet you took me here where we couldn’t be seen or heard. There has to be a reason for that.”
“Yes. I wanted to tell you that Dr. Medaris set up an account at the Armstrong City Bank in your name. All of the profits received from your water device were deposited there. You’re quite rich, sir. She said if you ever showed up here looking for her, I should tell you about it. And you’re definitely here looking for her, so if you go to the bank, it’s account number 8162128. That’s a secret number she said you would be able to remember.”
After absorbing the astonishing revelation, Crater had a confession to make. “I don’t know what’s special about that number.”
“She said it’s the day you met, August 16, 2128. We girls tend to remember things like that.”
Crater remembered he’d first met Maria on Moontown Founder’s Day celebrating Colonel Medaris’s arrival in the Alpine Valley, which was, now that he gave it some thought, on August 16.
“She didn’t tell me to tell you this,” Miss Torricelli added, “but she has a photo of you on her reader. I’ve come into the office and caught her looking at it. Just thought you should know. Now, I really need to get back to my office. The cameras showed us entering the stairwell. I will have to explain it.”
“How will you?”
“I will tell them that I asked you to hook up with me later at the Earthlight Retrodisco.”
“Do you think they’ll buy that?”