Ben Bova: Moonrise

And there it was, a bright gleaming star moving rapidly from west to east, cutting across the sky in silent purposefulness. The Rockledge space station. It seemed to beckon Paul like a steady, unwavering hope.

Tonight, Paul said to himself. I’ll be up there tonight. I’ll leave all this shit behind me and be up there where everything’s clean and uncomplicated.

He had decided that, as the new CEO, he should visit all the corporation’s operating divisions, starting with the research labs and prototype factory facility that Masterson rented aboard the Rockledge Corporation’s space station. He had wanted to go on to the scattering of underground shelters on the lunar surface that was Moonbase, but the pressures of his new responsibilities had forced him to postpone that pleasure.

Instead, he decided to take Joanna to the space station with him.

“A honeymoon in zero gravity,” he had told her.

“Aboard a space station?” Joanna had seemed startled at the idea.

“You’ll love it,” Paul had coaxed. “Zero gravity is better than waterbeds.”

She had finally agreed. Reluctantly, it seemed to Paul.

The intercom buzzer yanked his thoughts back to the present.

“What?” he called from the window.

“Mr. Arnold to see you, sir.”

Paul turned back toward the desk. “Send him right in.”

He started for the door, wondering why his secretary allowed Melissa to waltz in unannounced but held up the chairman of the board.

Bradley Arnold came smiling into the office, looking around at the new decor appreciatively. “I wouldn’t recognize the place, “Jie said in his heavy croaking voice.

Paul showed him to the round conference table in the corner, next to the built-in bar.

“Ah, this corner I do recognize,” Arnold said, lowering his chunky form into one of the chairs slowly, painfully. “Gregory was here more than at his desk, his last few months.”

“Would you like something…?” Paul asked.

“No, no, no,” Arnold replied, waving both hands vigorously in front of his face.

He protests too much, Paul thought. But he pulled out the chair next to the chairman’s and sat in it.

“You’re scheduled for a flight to the space facilities this evening, aren’t you?” Arnold asked.

Paul nodded. “Joanna and I are set to leave in about an hour.”

Arnold’s bulging eyes widened slightly. “Joanna’s going with you?”

Forcing a smile, Paul said, “A sort of honeymoon. Only three days, but that’s all I can squeeze in.”

“A honeymoon in space,” Arnold murmured. “Leave it to a former astronaut to think of that.”

“You ought to try it — a trip into orbit, I mean.”

“Me?” Arnold looked genuinely startled. “In space? No thank you! I’ll stay right here with my feet on solid ground. I don’t even like to go to California, the ground shakes too often.”

“Do wonders for your arthritis,” Paul said. “Zero gee can be very therapeutic.”

Shaking his head hard enough to make his toupee jiggle, Arnold said, “I’m doing fine here on Earth.”

Paul was tempted to say that the chairman wouldn’t have to worry about his weight in zero gravity, but he bit it back.

Arnold was sensitive about his poundage. In-between meals and snacks, Paul thought.

I’ll come straight to the point, Paul,” the old man said. “You’ve heard about this disk that young Greg has?”

All thoughts of levity vanished from Paul’s mind. He nodded in silence.

“Have you seen it?”

“No.”

“Neither have I.”

That surprised Paul. He said, “I’ve heard what’s on it. Gregory says somebody was out to kill him.”

“Yes, that’s what I heard.”

“I guess Greg will be taking it to the police.”

Arnold’s frog eyes narrowed. “Eventually, I suppose. Don’t know how believable it is. The ravings of an obviously drunken man. He was getting quite paranoid, you know.”

“Was he?” Paul said carefully.

“Yes. He had all sorts of suspicions. About everyone around him.”

Arnold did not have to say that Gregory knew his wife was having an affair with Paul. The implication was perfectly clear.

“Well,” Paul said, “I’m not sure of what I ought to do about this. Ask Greg about it, I suppose.”

“I’d speak with McPherson first.”

The corporation’s counsel. “You really think I should talk to the lawyers?” Paul asked.

Arnold started to nod, but broke it off to say, “Paul, you know that I nominated Greg for CEO only out of family loyalty. That’s all it was, believe me. I had no idea that you and Joanna were going to be married. I was merely being loyal to the family.”

Before Paul could reply, Arnold rushed on, “I want you to know that I’m one hundred percent behind you, Paul. One hundred percent! I think you’re going to make a fine CEO and I’ll do whatever I can to help and support you. Even if it comes down to a murder investigation.”

Paul looked into the chairman’s earnest, florid face and did not believe a word of what he said. You’ll be right behind me, all right, Paul thought. With a hatchet.

But he made himself smile and clasped his hands together in front of his face and said mildly, “I appreciate that Brad. I really do.”

Arnold looked satisfied. “I merely wanted you to go off to the space station with as clear a mind as possible. Don’t worry about Greg at all. I’ll hold the fort while you’re gone.”

I’ll be back by Friday.”

“Good,” said Arnold. “Don’t worry about a thing while you’re up there.”

“Sure. Thanks a lot.”

“Why did Greg show the disk to Melissa?” Joanna wanted to know.

They were in the limousine, heading for the company airfield, where a Clippership was waiting to boost them to the Rockledge space station. They both wore utilitarian coveralls: Paul’s were drab green; Joanna’s coral red. And form-fitting.

Paul blinked with surprise at his wife’s question. “I never even thought to ask.”

Joanna said, I’d have thought he’d bring it to Brad Arnold. Or straight to the police.”

“Brad hasn’t seen it.”

“So he says,” Joanna muttered.

“Greg’s having the disk analyzed,” Paul said. “Wants to’sextract all the information he can. Make sense out of Gregory’s mumblings, if he can.”

“He’s not turning it over to the police?” she asked sharply.

“Not yet.”

With a shake of her head, Joanna said, “It’s going to be useless as evidence, then. Once he lets anyone tamper with it—”

“They’re not tampering.”

“Legally, the disk will be compromised. The technicians can make it show or say anything they want, once they get their hands on the original.”

With a feeble smile, Paul said, “That’s your expert legal opinion, is it?”

“I could have taken a law degree,” Joanna said, straight-faced. “I’ve spent enough time with lawyers, god knows.”

They drove on in silence through the deepening twilight, Paul playing his wife’s question over and over in his head. Why did Greg show the disk to Melissa and not to Arnold? The chairman of the board would be a natural ally for Greg in this. What’s the kid up to? And what’s Brad up to? Are the two of them working together on this?

Then a new thought struck him: Is Melissa sleeping with Greg now? Somehow that idea bothered him.

“You have to be careful of Brad,” Joanna warned.

“I know.”

“He had just about taken over the whole corporation,” she went on, “during Gregory’s last few months. That’s why he wanted Greg to be CEO; he thought he could run everything and have Greg sitting there as a figurehead.”

“Maybe he’s the one Gregory was mumbling about, then,” said Paul. “On the disk.”