The Tourists grip snapped and Titus had the humans. He could feel their bewilderment as the screen now appeared to register coffee and tobacco, candy, clothing, and reading matter. Eyes locked to the Tourists, Titus answered, Ill be right there! Its just a scanner glitch. Theyve fixed it now. He put Influence behind the words.
Yeah, its fixed, agreed the retina technician. Knew it couldnt be right. Go on through.
Titus reached over and claimed his card from the slot in front of the Tourist. Never taking his eyes from her nor letting up his hold, he retrieved his jacket from the hopper, hooked it over one shoulder and escorted Mirelle back to the elevator. When they were far enough away, he cut his grip on the two human technicians and abandoned the Tourist to her own devices. Hed scored a victory, but perhaps in winning, he had lost. He had to find out what was really in his bag.
In the elevator, Mirelle said, What happened? I was so worried they might stop you from boarding.
There was no shred of Influence operating on her now. She meant it. Government computers-obsolete junk. I hope theyve equipped Project Station better than that!
I dont know about computers except how to use them, but I dont want to spend a year on the moon without you.
If she wanted, of her own free will, to flirt, Titus was willing. He could use a friend, especially a delectable, human one. Nor would I wish to be on Earth while you were on the moon.
The skybus was compartmentalized in case of pressure failure, with five seats to the compartment. The red and gray plush, gimballed seats swiveled to face each other around a tiny table, big enough to play cards.
Mirelle and Titus were ushered to the same compartment, where Titus was given the seat near the porthole. Placing his bag between his feet, he began to crank the shutter across the port to cut the horrible light. As it was closing, he glanced out and noticed a runabout pulling up to the check station, where a long line still waited. The Tourist agent was called over and someone else sent to her work station.
Squinting, Titus recognized the replacement as one of Connies operatives. She had countered the move against Titus ten minutes too late. I should have gone to the end of the line, and damn the sun.
The Tourist agent had to
your work as no one else of my. persuasion.
Titus read him clearly. In his centuries of life, Abbot Nandoha had acquired many specialties. There was no sabotage Titus could do that Abbot couldnt undo.
And Abbot was saying quite plainly that he would stop at nothing-absolutely nothing-to get that SOS out.
Chapter two
He suddenly envisioned the quiet battle she had been waging in Quito, trying to delay Abbot, to have him replaced. No wonder she let them get my bag, and almost let them get me! She only had eight operatives planted in the Project, and all of them were on Earth. Titus was the only one to make it to the moon.
To break the tension, Gold spoke up. Well! It does seem you know each other. Titus, introduce us.
Titus gestured to his far right. Abbot, the gentleman by the door-I mean hatch-is Dr. Abner Gold, metallurgist. The lady here is Dr. Mirelle de Lisle, Cognitive Sciences. And- The man facing Titus across the porthole had never said a word. He was totally absorbed in a newsletter printed in Cyrillic characters. I didnt catch your name, Doctor?
The man was fiftyish, hawk-nosed, with muscular forearms and painfully short fingernails. Sir? prompted Titus. The man finally looked up as if returning from a far distance. He raised both bushy white eyebrows and gazed innocently at Titus, who repeated, I didnt catch your name.
Mihelich, Andre Mihelich.
Titus repeated their names and specialties, but Mihelich did not offer anything further until Titus asked, Which department are you working in?
Biomed. With that, he returned to his newsletter. Since he hadnt answered to Doctor, Titus deduced that Mihelich was one of the nurses or techs in the huge medical department that did both research and healthcare. From the few words hed spoken, he seemed to be a North American.
Into the resounding silence, Titus said, Doctors, this is Dr. Abbot Nandoha, electrical engineer, circuit designer, and computer architect. Where will you be working, Abbot?
From his seat across from Mirelle and Titus, Abbot answered, Generating plant-supplying power to your computers, Titus, and life-support to the Station.
He could go anywhere without question. Titus shook off despair. Things couldnt get any worse now.
Well! said Abner Gold. Bridge, anyone?
Actually, said Mirelle, pokers more my game. Perhaps if we play poker, Dr. Mihelich will join us?
Just then, the speakers came on announcing liftoff. Simultaneously, their little table sank into the floor, and their seats swiveled and flattened as the Captain readied for thrust. Soon, the faint murmur singing through the bulkheads became a thick vibration that blotted out all other sound.
Then Titus felt his back forced into a proper posture by the gathering g-forces. He relaxed into it. Though the decibel level reached the upper limits of toleration, the sound had the reassuring coherence of finely tuned machinery. It was not threatening. It inspired confidence. Even awe.