Ben Bova - Moonwar

“The rules are the rules,” Nick insisted. “Besides, you’ll get better medical care back Earthside. And your mother’ll be there with you.”

“But you won’t.”

“I’ll come down on the next flight.”

“Nick, there might not be a next flight!”

“Now look—”

The phone chimed and Claire immediately called out, “Answer.”

Jinny Anson’s chipper face appeared on the wall. “Okay, you two, we’re down to two hours and counting.”

Claire said, “We’ll be there.”

“With bells on,” Nick added.

They forgot their argument and began dressing for the wedding. Claire had borrowed liberally from her friends and put together a beige long-skirted dress (the closest she could find at Moonbase to a wedding gown) and various accessories that almost looked right. Nick could find nothing that fit his big frame except a fresh pair of white coveralls from the medical stores.

The wedding was held in Jinny Anson’s office, with half a dozen of their friends in attendance and Claire’s arms filled with a bouquet of flowers freshly plucked from Lev Brudnoy’s little garden.

The archbishop of Kiribati, brown skin and flashing white teeth, looked out at them from the wall screen. Dressed in the full regalia of purple stole and skullcap, he appeared to be in a chapel made of stuccoed walls and a timbered roof.

Anson, Doug, and Harry Clemens stood off to one side while Edith, camera glued to one eye, panned across the office. Joanna and Lev Brudnoy watched from the wall screen on the other side of the room.

The ceremony was brief, a little awkward with the transmission delay, yet somehow touching. Doug heard Anson sniffle slightly, beside him. Looking over to the far wall, he thought that his mother looked just a bit teary-eyed, too. Why do women cry at weddings? he wondered.

When he finished, the archbishop grinned at them and said in a strong voice, “There will be no collection.”

The Catholics in the small crowd laughed.

The married couple and their friends trooped out of Anson’s office, on their way to a reception in The Cave.

“Some honeymoon they’re going to have,” Anson said, sounding a little wistful. “The Clippership lifts off tomorrow at ten hundred hours.”

“Well, at least they were able to get married,” Clemens said. “I hope that makes them happy.”

Doug had already turned his attention to his mother’s image on the wall screen.

“Any progress with Faure?” he asked.

After three seconds she shook her head gravely. “He’s making the maximum media noise about this so-called mercy flight. Otherwise, he’s stonewalling me.”

“Any indications of preparations by the Peacekeepers?”

Doug asked, standing before his mother’s larger-then-life image.

Brudnoy, standing slightly behind her, answered, “No indications at all. They seem to be doing nothing at present. Of course, they could be getting ready for another assault in secrecy.”

“That’s what I’d do, I suppose,” Doug agreed. “No sense letting your enemy see you coming.”

“The board meeting is tomorrow,” Joanna said. “I’ve got to turn Rashid around and get him to support you.”

“Tamara Bonai got no place with the President,” Doug muttered.

Once she heard his words, Joanna raised a finger. “Don’t be too sure of that. The ambassador to Japan just flew back unexpectedly to Washington on a Clippership. Something’s stirring, I think.”

Doug thought about that for a moment, then said, “Mom, this may be off the wall—but have you considered talking directly to Yamagata?”

The delay was much more than three seconds this time. “You mean the old man himself? Seigo Yamagata?”

“If he’ll see you.”

Her expression hardened. “He’ll see me. I’ll make certain of that!”

It took an effort of will for Nick to pull his gummy eyelids open. The party had been glorious, but now it was morning and the fun was over. Claire had to pack her few belongings tnd get aboard the Clippership.

She was curled next to him in the bunk, sleeping soundly with a beatific smile on her lips.

Nick struggled up on one elbow and squinted at the digital clock.

“It’s nine-twenty!” he yelped. “Good lord, Claire, you’ve gotta dash!”

She opened one eye and snaked a bare arm around his neck. “Married hardly more than eighteen hours and you’re already giving me orders.”

“But the time—”

“Relax,” Claire said dreamily. “I’m not going anyplace.”

“Not going? What do you mean not going?”

“I’m staying right here with you,” she said, opening both eyes at last.

“But you can’t do that!”

“I gave my boarding papers to Ellen Berson,” Claire said. “Last night, while the rest of you were getting blotto on rocket juice.”

“You what?”

“Ellen’s got a boyfriend in Philadelphia. My boyfriend is right here.”

“You can’t do that,” he repeated, his voice high, panicky. “They’ll stop her at the rocket port.”

“No they won’t. And even if they do, I decided I’m staying right here with you.”

“But they’ll force you—”

“Nobody’s going to force anybody,” Claire said, quite firmly. “And if they send some goons from security I’ll put up such a battle they’ll be afraid of harming the baby.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Over you, sweet-face.”

“But you can’t have the baby here. It’s not allowed.”

She smiled knowingly. “Nick, there’s a first time for everything.”

“But…” He ran out of steam and sank back on the pillow, defeated. Yet delighted.

“It was during the wedding,” Claire said. “When the archbishop said that bit about cleaving together. I made up my mind then that I’m not going Earthside until you can go with me.”

Staring up at the low ceiling, Nick said, “There’s going to be hell to pay over this.”

But he was grinning from ear to ear.

Joanna deliberately took the seat at the end of the long conference table, where she could look directly at Rashid, up at the head. Every member of the board was present in person, even old McGruder in his powered wheelchair and its bulky life-support system. The old man was still waiting for a heart donor; he was more heavily wired up than an astronaut, Joanna thought.

Rashid and Tamara Bonai came in together, not exactly holding hands, but obviously happy to be in each other’s company. Joanna seethed. If that little tramp has gone over to Rashid’s side I’ll…

She stopped, not knowing what she’d do. Or what she could do. She had told Doug to woo Bonai and win her over. It looked as if Rashid had done it, instead, and there was nothing Joanna could do to counter that.

The conference table was buzzing with whispered conversations, board members catching up with the latest news and gossip among themselves. No one spoke to Joanna. She sat as if in an isolation ward down at the foot of the table.

The murmurs died away as Rashid sat down and smiled brightly at the board members.

“I’m delighted that all of you could manage to make it here in person to this special meeting,” Rashid said in his slightly reedy tenor voice. “Including you, Mac.”

From behind his oxygen mask McGruder rasped, “Couldn’t keep me away from this one if you tried, my boy. When all this nonsense with the U.N. is over, I’m going to Moonbase and get some of those nanomachines to fix my heart.”

He broke into a cackling laughter; the other board members joined with him, politely. All except Rashid, Joanna noticed, who sat with his original smile frozen on his face. Mac’s on our side, Joanna knew. She had been feeding him information on nanotherapy for months now.