Luna Escapade Part 3

He kissed her quickly and walked away, drumming the fingers of his right hand against his thigh.

Except for the tenseness of blasting off and landing, the round trip to Mars was as boring as he expected. Campiglia won too many chess games at one move per watch, and the deck of cards wore out. For a few days, Wells had a slightly infected finger after cutting himself, but it was a small crisis. The layover on Mars was short, and the thrill was no longer new.

Dudley was glad to step out of the big rocket on Luna.

They had come in during the sleeping period at Ericsson, so the four of them had gone to their quarters for a few hours of sleep after the first babble of welcome from those on duty when they landed. Dudley was awakened by Jack Fisher.

"So early?" he grunted, squinting at his watch. "What brings you around?"

Fisher settled his bulk in the only chair of the bedroom that was to be Dudley's until his next Terra-bound rocket.

"Liable to be busy today," he said easily, "so I thought I'd have breakfast with you."

"Fine!" said Dudley. "Wait'll I shave and I'll be with you."

When he returned from the bathroom, he thought that he had perfect control of his features. There might not be anything wrong, but it seemed odd that Jack should be around so soon. He wondered if the Kathi Foster affair was in the background.

They went up a few levels to a minor eating place and had scrambled eggs that almost tasted natural. Over the coffee, Fisher opened up.

"Had a little excitement while you were gone," he said.

"Yeah? What?"

Fisher let him wait while he carefully unwrapped the half-smoked remains of a cigar. Tobacco in any form was strictly rationed in all Lunar settlements.

"Ever hear of old Robert Forgeron?" he asked.

"The one they used to call 'Robber' Forgeron?"

"That's right. He had so many patents on airlock mechanisms and s.p.a.ce-suit gadgets and rocket control instruments that he made the G.o.dd.a.m.nedest fortune ever heard of out of s.p.a.ce exploration. Died a few years ago."

Dudley maintained a puzzled silence.

"Seems the old man had strong ideas about that fortune," continued Fisher. "Left the bulk of it to his only granddaughter."

"That must have made headlines," Dudley commented.

"Sure did." Fisher had the cigar going, now, and he puffed economically upon it. "Especially when she ran away from home."

"Oh?" Dudley felt it coming. "Where to?"

"Here!"

Fisher held his cigar between thumb and forefinger and examined it fondly.

"Said her name was Kathi Foster instead of Kathi Forgeron. After they got around to guessing she was on Luna, and sent descriptions, we picked her up, of course. Shortly after you kicked off for Mars, in fact."

Dudley was silent. The other's shrewd little eyes glinted bluely at him through the cigar smoke.

"How about it, Pete? I've been trying to figure how she got here. If it was you, you needn't worry about the regulations. There was some sort of litigation going on, and all kinds of relatives came boiling up here to get her. All the hullabaloo is over by now."

Dudley took a deep breath, and told his side of the story. Fisher listened quietly, nodding occasionally with the satisfaction of one who had guessed the answer.

"So you see how it was, Jack. I didn't really believe the kid's story.

And she was so wild about it!"

Fisher put out his cigar with loving care.

"Got to save the rest of this for dinner," he said. "Yes, she was wild, in a way. You should hear--well, that's in the files. Before we were sure who she was, Snowdon put her on as a secretary in his section."

"She didn't look to me like a typist," objected Dudley.

"Oh, she wasn't," said Fisher, without elaborating. "I suppose if she _was_ a little nuts, she was just a victim of the times. If it hadn't been for the sudden plunge into s.p.a.ce, old Forgeron wouldn't have made such a pile of quick money. Then his granddaughter might have grown up in a normal home, instead of feeling she was just a target. If she'd been born a generation earlier or later, she might have been okay."

Dudley thought of the girl's pleading, her frenzy to escape her environment.

"So I suppose they dragged her back," he said. "Which loving relative won custody of the money?"

"That's still going on," Fisher told him. "It's tougher than ever, I hear, because she didn't go down with them. She talked somebody into letting her have a s.p.a.ce-suit and walked out to the other side of the ringwall. All the way to the foothills on the other side."

Dudley stared at him in mounting horror. Fisher seemed undisturbed, but the pilot knew his friend better than that. It could only mean that the other had had three months to become accustomed to the idea. He was tenderly tucking away the stub of his cigar.

"Wasn't so bad, I guess," he answered Dudley's unspoken question. "She took a pill and sat down. Couple of rock-tappers looking for ore found her. Frozen stiff, of course, when her batteries ran down."

Dudley planted his elbows on the table and leaned his head in his hands.

"I should have taken her to Mars!" he groaned.

"She tried that on you, too?" Fisher was unsurprised. "No, Pete, it wouldn't have done any good. Would've lost you your job, probably. Like I said, she was born the wrong time. They won't have room for the likes of her on Mars for a good many years yet."

"So they hauled her back to Terra, I suppose."

"Oh, no. The relatives are fighting that out, too. So, until the judges get their injunctions shuffled and dealt, little Kathi is sitting out there viewing the Rockies and the stars."

He looked up at Dudley's stifled exclamation.

"Well, it's good and cold out there," he said defensively. "We don't have any spare s.p.a.ce around here to store delayed shipments, you know.

We're waitin' to see who gets possession."

Dudley rose, his face white. He was abruptly conscious once more of other conversations around them, as he stalked toward the exit.

"Hey," Fisher called after him, "that redhead, Eileen, told me to ask if you're taking her out tonight."

Dudley paused. He ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, I guess so," he said.

He went out, thinking, _I should have taken her. The h.e.l.l with regulations and Jack's theories about her being born too soon to be useful on Mars. She might have straightened out._

He headed for the tunnel that led to the loading domes.