David Gerrold - Jumping off the Planet

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A disastrous family vacation leads Charles and his two brothers to "divorce" their warring parents. Fleeing to the Orbital Elevator, a super high-tech beanstalk, they must either return home to a devastated Earth, or continue on to a new home somewhere on the Moon--where Charlie is caught between opposing forces in a battle for global domination. First in a new series.

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Dad shook his head and laughed. "And you've been very stupid, Dr. Hidalgo. Very very stupid. You never figured it out, did you?"

Dr. Hidalgo raised an eyebrow. "Enlighten me?"

"You and your people—I was never carrying anything. I was a decoy. Do you really think they'd trust that much money to my care? 'en I'm not that stupid. Whoever it was—and even I don't know for sure, you probably know more than me—they wanted you looking in the wrong place. So they hired me. And I guess it worked, while you were busy chasing me up the Line, you weren't hassling whole bunch of other folks."

"That's an assumption on your part."

"Maybe so, maybe not. But I got my job done. Thanks again for your help." Dad offered his hand.

Surprisingly, Dr. Hidalgo took it. He held Dad's hand in both of his. "You may yet need my help, señor. I do not think you know what you are playing with. You keep my card. You call me if your new friends don't work out. Adios. Vaya con dios." And he turned and waddled over to confer with Howard-The-Unhappy.

Dad turned to look at me. And Douglas. We were whispering together. Dad must have seen the look on my face. And on Douglas' too. He said, "What?"

And I said to Douglas, "You tell him."

And Dad said, "Tell me what?"

So Douglas swallowed hard. "You sure, Charles?"

"Yes." I nodded.

Douglas turned to Dad. "We don't want you to come with us."

Dad looked confused. He looked from me to Douglas and back again. So I added, "Judge Griffith said we don't have to take you if we don't want to. Well ... we don't want to."

Dad went pale. "Charles? Douglas? Are you sure—?"

"We have to go, Dad." Douglas hugged him quickly. "Maybe we'll see you on the moon. I hope so."

I went to Dad to hug him too, but I didn't say anything to him. He looked like he'd been stabbed—and was still waiting to fall down. He didn't hug me back, so I let go and followed Douglas over to where Mom was standing. She was holding Bobby, rocking him back and forth on her shoulder.

Joyce, the bailiff, followed at a respectful distance. Mom had picked up Bobby and was holding onto him as hard as she could. She glared over his shoulder at Douglas, and at Joyce too, and she held onto Bobby for the longest time, holding him, stroking his head, whispering into his ear, telling him over and over how much she loved him and how she was going to come and get him, not to worry—but at last, Douglas bent down to take him, and she let him slip out of her arms. Tears were running down her cheeks and I was starting to feel real bad about this whole thing. Doug bent his head to kiss her, but she just turned away.

So Douglas turned away from her and she was standing there by herself, just looking at me—and I didn't know what to say or do. She walked slowly over to where I was standing alone, and when she spoke it was like being dragged naked over nails. She just shook her head and asked, "Why, Charles—why?"

I shook my head helplessly. "I—I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't do it to hurt you."

"Was I really that bad a mother to you?"

"Mom, you're angry all the time—"

"Well, don't I have good reason to be? The way you treat me. The way your father treats me."

"Mom, this isn't about you—"

"Well, then who is it about—? Answer me that!"

"Mom, you don't listen! You don't ever listen—you're not listening now."

"Charles, I have a right to know. You're breaking up our family—"

"No, Mom. It was already broken. You and Dad broke it up a long time ago—"

"Is this really what you want—to hurt me like this?"

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. "Mom, what I want most"—it hurt to say it; my voice cracked—"what I want most is ... to get away From you, right now. I can't stand it when you talk to me like this. It isn't my fault!"

"Go ahead, then! You're just like your father, you little bastard! I hope you're happy!" And then—she slapped my face! For an instant, I saw stars.

I didn't know what to do or say. I was too shocked. She hadn't ever hit me before. I couldn't believe it—everybody was staring at me—so I just turned to go—and then she was grabbing at me, crying, "Oh, God, Charles—I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that! Charles, please—wait! Wait! Charles!"

There was one thing she could have said that might have made tie stop, and I was listening as hard as I could to hear her say it, and maybe she was saying it in her own way, but I was listening for the words, and she never said them. She never said the words. So I kept going.

And then Doug put an arm around my shoulders and I started sobbing as we followed Mickey to the hatch of the transfer pod. I looked back to see Dr. Hidalgo and that Sykes woman rushing to Mom's side, and then Doug steered me into the waiting pod and then the door closed and they were gone—

"So what happens now?" I asked, still wiping tears from my eyes.

"I have an idea," Doug answered, shouldering Bobby with one arm, and hugging me with the other. "Let's go to the moon."

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