Ben Bova - Moonwar

“Yes,” he said. “Kris Cardenas will talk to you in a little while about it.”

“What about the war? We won?”

“The Peacekeepers have gone back to Nippon One, with the bodies of three of the suicide bombers. Japan and the United States have both demanded a Security Council review of Faure’s actions against Moonbase. The World Court has agreed to hear our petition for independence in November. They’ve ordered Faure to leave us alone until they make their decision.”

“We’ve won,” Edith said. It seemed to take what little strength she had. “You’ve won, Doug.”

“It’s cost us a lot. Zimmerman, the water factory, Bam Gordette.”

She remembered those last moments in the studio. “When he hit you, I thought he’d turned traitor again. I thought he was on their side.”

“He saved the two of us,” Doug said. “He gave his life for us.”

“He wanted to die,” Edith remembered. “He said so. Just like the suicide bomber.”

Doug shook his head sorrowfully. “Bam. Zimmerman. My stepfather, too: Lev. And Tamara.”

“You’ve lost a lot.”

“We can rebuild the water factory,” he said, his voice low, mournful. “But the people can’t be replaced.”

“All because of Faure.”

“No, it’s not just him. He couldn’t have gotten anywhere it he didn’t have the backing of so many people. You’re the real hero of this war, Edith. You turned public opinion onto our side and against Faure.”

“All I did was blabber.”

A faint smile tweaked his lips. “Damned good blabber.

She pretended shock. “Profanity? Out of you?”

Doug’s smile widened a bit. “It’s been a long, hard day. And then some.’.

“That’s all right,” Edith said. “It’s been worth it. Despite everything, it’s been worth it.”

He nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I hope so.”

Doug checked his wristwatch against the digital wall clock as he paced the empty lounge of the rocket port.

It’s going to be close, he said to himself. Razor close.

As he waited impatiently, he thought back to the days when he’d sneak out to the old rocket port just to watch the lunar transfer vehicles land or take off. It was not even eight years ago, but it seemed lost back in the hazy mists of ancient history.

Now he watched a wall-sized screen in the underground lounge of the rocket port as the LTV carrying his mother gracefully descended on invisible jets of rocket exhaust, kicking up a small storm of dust and pebbles around the concrete landing pad. The big ungainly spacecraft settled slowly on its strut-thin legs. With its bulbous plastiglass pods for the crew and passengers, it looked to Doug like a giant metallic insect squatting on the lunar surface.

Okay, they’re down. Now get the access tube connected. We don’t have a minute to spare.

The newly-decorated lounge was empty, except for him. His mother and the medical team were the only passengers on this LTV, except for the body of Lev Brudnoy.

Doug had expected his life to simplify once the war was over, but it had become more hectic. While Joanna and Seigo Yamagata personally negotiated a merger between Masterson Aerospace Corporation and Yamagata Industries, Ltd., Doug was drawn into the whirl of establishing a government for the independent Moonbase and handling the delicate personnel problems of men and women who wanted to remain on the Moon without giving up their Earthside citizenships.

Tomorrow Toshiro Takai was scheduled to arrive from Nippon One, his first visit to Moonbase in the flesh after years of virtual reality contacts. Doug was going to broach the extremely sensitive subject of inviting Nippon One to join Moonbase and declare its independence from Japan. He doubted that Takai would be able to carry that off, but he knew his VR friend would feel slighted if he didn’t at least ask.

And there was so much to do before Takai arrived. Again Doug looked at the wall clock. Its digital numbers seemed to be leaping ahead.

At last one of the port technicians entered the lounge, ambling too slowly to please Doug, and tapped at the wall pad by the access tunnel hatch. The gleaming metal door popped open a few centimeters, with a sigh of air blowing in from the slightly overpressurized tunnel.

Feeling nervous, anxious, Doug watched as the LTV’s two pilots pushed the hatch fully open from the other side. The medical team was right behind them, four doctors, two men and two women. They looked self-assured, competent in their Earthside business clothes as the port technician led to them the tractor that was waiting to whisk them to the infirmary.

At last Joanna stepped through, looking years older than the last time Doug had seen her, but still regally splendid in a Yuletide green dress that glittered in the light from the ceiling panels.

“Welcome to Moonbase,” Doug said ritually, then embraced his mother.

She was tired, he could see, dark rings circled her eyes. But he urged her, “Come on, we don’t have a minute to lose.”

“My things…”

“The ground crew will take care of them. I briefed them myself. They know what to do.”

She nodded, just a trifle hesitant, but let Doug take her by the wrist and lead her out to the tunnel that ran back to the main section of the base. He helped her up into the old standby tractor, then climbed into the driver’s seat and started its electric motors.

“I hope we’re not too late,” Joanna said.

“We’re shaving it close.”

As they drove through the long, straight, featureless tunnel, the wide-spaced overhead lights casting shadows across their faces like the phases of the Moon, Joanna told her son about the negotiations with Yamagata.

“We’ve got to be able to continue manufacturing Clipper-ships,” Doug said. “That’s the important thing. That’s Moon-base’s economic lifeblood.”

“Seigo’s agreed to that,” Joanna said. “He’s all in favor of it, now that Faure’s stepping down from the U.N. We’re even talking about manufacturing automobiles.”

“With nanomachines?”

“In Japan.”

“Wow! Things really have changed!”

“In fact,” Joanna continued, “it turns out that one of the major reasons why he wanted control of Moonbase was your nanotechnology capability.”

Doug shot her a puzzled frown. “But I thought—”

Joanna silenced him with an upraised hand. “Seigo has a genetic predisposition to cancer. He wants to be able to come up here and have nanotherapy to remove any tumors he may develop.”

“That’s why he wanted Moonbase?”

She nodded. “That’s his real reason. He was willing to go along with Faure to gain control of Moonbase, as long as he could have nanotherapy in secret.”

“And he killed Zimmerman in the process.”

“Kris Cardenas is still here.”

Anger simmering in his guts, Doug grumbled, “Why should we let Kris help him? He killed Zimmerman! He might even have been involved in Lev’s murder.”

Joanna seemed strangely unperturbed. “Don’t leap to conclusions, Doug. Seigo’s not the devil incarnate. Have some Christmas charity.”

He stared at her as the lights flashed by. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Except -I think we’ve learned to respect each other. And he had nothing to do with Lev’s death. That was strictly the New Morality’s doing.”

“You’re sure?”

“My security people found that the corporation is honeycombed with New Morality zealots. That’s why I’ve decided to live up here permanently.”

“Can’t you do anything about them? Back Earthside, I mean.”

Joanna said matter-of-factly, “There are too many of them, Doug. As long as we can operate here on the Moon and use nanotechnology, let them stew in their own juices for a generation or two. They’ll get what they deserve.”