Moonbase - Moonwar Part 52

"If they don't light a second stage."

"Keep me informed."

"Will do."

Switching to the suit-to-suit frequency, Wix told the four volunteers still working with him, "We have two and a half hours. Double check everything."

The s.p.a.cesuited figures bent to their work.

"That's the nuke," Doug muttered.

"Must be," said Jinny Anson. Like Doug, she was staring at the screen showing the blunt-nosed missile. It seemed to be hanging in s.p.a.ce now that its rocket engine had shut down; the stars in the background did not move.

Two and a half hours, Doug thought. What have we forgotten to do? Looking up, he traced the glowing lines on the electronic map of the base that covered one entire wall of the control center. Water factory, environmental control center, electrical power-they're as protected as they'll ever be. Turning to the insect-eye array of screens at the console he had commandeered, Doug saw displays of Wodjohowitcz Pa.s.s and the crater floor. Off near the brutally short horizon he could barely make out the ant-like forms of Wix and his volunteers still tinkering at the ma.s.s driver.

Another screen showed the crowd in The Cave. They seemed calm enough. They're safe, he told himself. Even if Wix's gun fails and the nuke blasts out the solar farms, they'll be unharmed. We'll have to surrender, I guess, but they'll be safe.

Then a new fear a.s.sailed him. If they knock out our electrical power we'll only have a few hours' worth of juice from the backup fuel cells. The Peacekeepers must have emergency power generators with them. They've got to! Otherwise everybody here will die in a couple of hours, asphyxiated from lack of air to breathe.

The Peacekeepers won't want to kill us all, he told himself. They'll have emergency power supplies with them. Otherwise this'll be a slaughter.

"Why aren't you in The Cave?" Kris Cardenas asked.

Zimmerman looked up from the scanning probe microscope's image-intensifier screen at his unexpected visitor. Keiji Inoguchi, on the other side of the room at the processor control board, stared at the sandy-haired, trim-figured Cardenas as if she were a video star.

"And why should I be at The Cave? Am I expected at a party?"

"Everyone who's not a.s.signed to a defense task is supposed to go to The Cave."

"Pah!" Zimmerman snapped his fingers.

"Doug Stavenger's orders," Cardenas said.

"So why are you not in The Cave?" Zimmerman demanded.

She grinned as if she enjoyed fencing with him. "I'm on duty at the infirmary. I just ran up here to see how much of a supply of therapeutic nan.o.bugs you had left for us."

"We are still working on them," Zimmerman said.

Turning her cornflower blue eyes to Inoguchi, Cardenas asked, "And you're helping him?"

Inoguchi bowed deeply, then replied, "It is my privilege to a.s.sist Professor Zimmerman, yes."

"But you're one of the U.N. inspectors, aren't you?"

"Yes, that is true. But the medical work we are doing here is beyond the scope of politics."

Zimmerman scowled. "He's learning everything he can in preparation for running the nanolab once Yamagata takes over the base."

Inoguchi looked stricken. "I am a.s.sisting you for humanitarian reasons!"

"You are spying on me," Zimmerman grumbled.

"Now Willi," Cardenas intervened, "you can't attack Professor Inoguchi like that! It's not polite and it isn't fair."

"Yah. Of course. Only it is true."

"It's not Professor Inoguchi's fault that we're being attacked," Cardenas said. "I think it's very generous of him to a.s.sist us."

Inoguchi said, "I am most honored to work with you both."

"And looking forward to running this lab once the Peacekeepers have driven us out," Zimmerman insisted.

Squaring his shoulders visibly, Inoguchi said, "Yes, that is true. What would you expect me to do, go back to j.a.pan and allow someone else to take over this laboratory?"

Cardenas laughed. "He's right, Willi. Why shouldn't he want to run this facility? It's the most advanced in the world."

"In the solar system!" Zimmerman corrected.

To Cardenas, Inoguchi said, "I have offered a position here to Professor Zimmerman. I would be most honored if you, a n.o.bel Laureate, would remain here to continue your work."

Cardenas replied, "a.s.suming that the Peacekeepers actually do take over the base."

"And hand it over to Yamagata Industries," Zimmerman groused.

Inoguchi snapped his chin down in a nod that almost became a little bow.

Her smile fading, Cardenas said, "Would you offer a position to my husband, as well? He's a neurosurgeon. I won't stay here if he can't."

Inoguchi immediately answered, "Yes, of course."

"Most of the work Pete's done has been by virtual reality link Earthside, since we've come up to Moonbase," Cardenas mused, thinking out loud. "If he can continue doing that he'll stay. Otherwise we'll have a problem."

"Perhaps I can obtain an appointment with Tokyo University for him," Inoguchi said. "Or Osaka. He could remain at Moonbase indefinitely and work with his colleagues through electronic links."

"Is your husband at The Cave?" Zimmerman asked sourly.

"No," Cardenas said, turning her attention to the old man. "He's at the infirmary, ready to help the medics with any surgery that might be needed."

"I sincerely hope that it will not come to that," Inoguchi said.

"So do we all," said Cardenas.

Claire Rossi felt as if she were in a nightmare. She moved through the crowd milling around in The Cave with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and the vision of that missile hanging over her head in the big wall screens.

"Can I buy you lunch?"

Whirling, she saw Nick O'Malley, big, lumbering redhead, grinning down at her.

"Nick! Why aren't you in the control center?"

"They let me out to eat now and then," he said, sliding an arm around her waist. "Come on, I'll buy you the best soyburger in town."

He kept up a cheerful patter as they picked up trays and made their selections from the stainless steel dispensers. Once they were seated at a table for two off in a far corner of The Cave, O'Malley dug into his burger.

But Claire found she had no appet.i.te. "I can't eat anything," she said, sliding her plate away from her.

O'Malley pushed it back. "Hey, you're eating for two, you know. Got to keep up your strength."

She looked up at the wall screen, with the missile hanging there like the ringer of death pointed at them.

"They're going to kill us all, aren't they?" she said, her voice choking in her throat.

O'Malley clutched her hand. "n.o.body's going to get killed. We're safe and snug in here."

"Don't try to kid me, Nick. Without electrical power we're done."

"If they nuke the solar farms-and that's an if, if, mind you -Doug will surrender and the Peacekeepers will come in without firing a shot. n.o.body's going to die in defense of Moonbase, don't you worry." mind you -Doug will surrender and the Peacekeepers will come in without firing a shot. n.o.body's going to die in defense of Moonbase, don't you worry."

"You're certain?"

O'Malley's florid face turned solemn. "Listen, Claire darling. I'm stationed in the control center, running the dust. I'll be right beside Stavenger. If he doesn't surrender I'll clout him on the head and take over. I'll surrender for him, if I have to."

Claire tried to smile for him, but she wondered if her husband really had the strength to do what he promised.

"We've got a second-stage burn!" the comm tech yelped.

Wicksen jerked with surprise. "What?"

"Second-stage burn," she repeated. "They held off on it until they made their midcourse correction. Accelerated by a factor of two, at least. Computer's chewing on the numbers."

"How much time do we have?" Wicksen asked, feeling frightened for the first time.

"Looks like... forty-two minutes."

"By all the saints in heaven," Wicksen muttered. "All right, thanks for the bad news."

Banging the suit-to-suit key on his wrist pad, Wix called out, "New data. We've got forty minutes, max."

The four s.p.a.cesuited figures all turned toward him.

"I know it's not enough time," Wicksen said. "Power up the magnets. Check out all the connections. I'll slave the pointing system to the control center's radar plot."

"Better warn the base they're gonna get browned out," one of his a.s.sistants said.

"Right," said Wicksen, running as fast as he could in the c.u.mbersome s.p.a.cesuit to the jury-rigged set of pointing magnets.

This has got to work the first time, he said to himself. It's got to! If there's a saint in heaven who can cancel Murphy's Law for a few minutes, now's the time to do it.

It was as close to prayer as Wicksen had ever come.

Jack Killifer fidgeted nervously in the kitchen of Joanna Brudnoy's house. The closer he got to his goal, the more jittery he felt.

Stop it! he commanded himself. Calm yourself down.

He wasn't afraid to kill Joanna Brudnoy, nor her Russian feeb of a husband. It was getting away with it that worried him. Sure, his ID in the Masterson files had been artfully faked. Anybody looking for his picture or prints in the computer would get a totally artificial set of pixels. n.o.body was going to trace him that way.

It was the other security personnel that worried him. They knew his face. Even with the moustache and change in his hair color, they'd be able to identify him.

General O'Conner'll take care of me, he tried to a.s.sure himself. The Urban Corps had plenty of resources. They could provide him with a complete alibi, show the police that Killifer had been on a.s.signment in Tacoma or Timbuktu, all neatly filed in their computer records.

They had outfaced Interpol, for G.o.d's sake, when the international investigators had come asking about Tamara Bonai's death. Thanks to O'Conner's people, Killifer had an iron-clad alibi and Doug Stavenger's identification had been tossed aside. The cops didn't trust virtual reality evidence, anyway: too easy to fake or spoof.

But why did O'Conner insist on me doing this alone? Killifer asked himself again and again.

'G.o.d's work has to be done by G.o.d's people, Jack.' the general had told him. the general had told him. 'It would be wrong to bring in an outsider. Wrong, and dangerous. The fewer people know about this, the better off we are.' 'It would be wrong to bring in an outsider. Wrong, and dangerous. The fewer people know about this, the better off we are.'

He wouldn't have to bring in outside people, for c.r.a.p's sake, Killifer growled to himself. He could get a dozen Urban Corps volunteers or people from one of the other New Morality groups. s.h.i.t, they've knocked off hundreds of people over the past few years. Why do I have to take on Joanna Brudnoy alone?

Because you're the one who wants to do her, the answer came to him. O'Conner doesn't give a f.u.c.k about Joanna; this is your your vendetta, not his. That's why he won't give you any support, any backup. vendetta, not his. That's why he won't give you any support, any backup.

Okay, he told himself, trying to steady his trembling hands. She's in the bedroom with her old man. You're the only security guard inside the house, except for Rodriguez monitoring the security cameras down in the servants' quarters. You just go upstairs and pop her. The husband, too. Maybe they're s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g and you can get them both with one shot. He almost laughed at the thought.

But what then? Killifer had rehea.r.s.ed his moves a thousand times in his mind, but it still didn't come out right. Rodriguez won't hear the shots, he's too far away, too many walls between him and the bedroom.

Okay. Once you leave the bedroom Rodriguez can see you on the security cameras. So you go back to the kitchen and out to the garage, just like you're doing your regular rounds. Only, you get into your car and get the f.u.c.k out of here before he figures out that they're dead up in the bedroom.

And then what? Drive straight to Atlanta, he told himself. Straight to Urban Corps headquarters and General O'Conner. Let them hide your car. Stick close to the General, make sure he'll protect you if the cops or Masterson's security people come after you.

That'll work, he tried to a.s.sure himself. It'll be okay. O'Conner'll have this killing on me, but I'll have something on him, too: his helping me to get away with it.

Grimacing, he slid the heavy machine pistol out of the oiled holster at his hip and popped its magazine. Fully loaded, ready to go. He slid the magazine back into place, then worked the action with a metallic click-d.i.c.k, click-d.i.c.k, jacking a round into the firing chamber. jacking a round into the firing chamber.

Making certain the safety was off, Killifer carefully slipped the pistol back into its holster, then pushed himself up from the kitchen table and started off toward Joanna Brudnoy's bedroom.

CONTROL CENTER.

The astronomical telescope's view showed the incoming missile pointing at them, more and more of a nose-on view as it sped to its target in the crater Alphonsus. Doug watched the display screen almost as if hypnotized.

"For what it's worth," came a man's voice from beside him,'the dust containers are all in place."

Turning, Doug saw Nick O'Malley's muscular form sitting beside him. The man seemed much too heavy for the little wheeled chair; it looked as if the chair would collapse under him at any moment.

"Back from The Cave so soon?" Doug asked.

O'Malley nodded. "n.o.body's got much of an appet.i.te just now."