So it's back to the brightlights for me."
"Good luck," Denver said shortly, tearing his attention from Charley'sflickering gyrations. "I hope you find a man with a big fat bankbook."
"So do I," Darbor admitted. "I could use a new wardrobe. I wish itcould have been you. If things had worked out--"
"Forget it," Denver snapped. "There'd have been Martin's kid. She'dhave got half anyhow. You wouldn't have liked that."
Darbor essayed a grin. "You know, I've been thinking. Maybe the oldguy was my father. It could be. I never knew who my old man was, and Idid go to school on Earth. Reform school."
Denver regarded her cynically. "Couldn't be. I'm willing to believeyou don't know who your father was. Some women should keep books. Butthat kid's not Martian."
Darbor shrugged. "Doesn't matter. So long, kid. If you make a bigstrike, look me up."
The Space Patrol lieutenant was waiting for her. She linked arms withhim, and vanished toward the ship. Denver went back to Charley.Intently he studied the weird creature, wondering what to do.
A timid knock startled him. For a moment, wild hope dawned. MaybeDarbor--
But it wasn't Darbor. A strange girl stood in the doorway. She pushedopen the inner flap of the airlock and stepped from the valve.
"I was looking around," she explained. "I bummed my way out with thePatrol Ship. Do you mind?"
Denver scowled at her. "Should I?"
The girl tried a smile on him but she looked ill-at-ease. "You looklike one of the local boy scouts," she said. "How about helping a ladyin distress?"
"I make a hobby of it," he snarled. "I don't even care if they'reladies. But I'm fresh out of romance and slightly soured. And I'mworried about the one friend who's dumb enough to stick by me. Youpicked a bad time to ask. What do you want?"
The girl smiled shyly. "All right, so you don't look like a boy scout.But I'm still a girl in a jam. I'm tired and broke and hungry. All Iwant is a sandwich, and maybe a lift to the next town. I should havegone back with the Patrol ship but I guess they forgot me. I thoughtmaybe, if you're going somewhere that's civilized, I could bum a lift.What's wrong with your friend?"
Denver indicated Charley. "Frankly, I don't know." He balked at tryingto explain again just what a moondog was. "But who are you? What didyou want here?"
The girl stared at him. "Didn't you know? I'm Soleil. My father ownedthis mine. He thought he'd found something, and sent for me to shareit. It took the last of our money to get me here, but I wanted tocome. We hadn't seen each other for twenty years. Now he's dead, andI'm broke, alone and scared. I need to get to some place where I candream up an eating job."
"You're Martin's kid?"
Soleil nodded, absently, looking at Charley. The moondog gave astrange, electronic whimper. There was an odd expression on the girl'sface. A flash of inspiration seemed to enlighten her.
"I'll take care of this," she said softly. "You wait outside."
Somewhat later, after blinding displays of erratic lightnings hadreleased a splendor of fantastic color through the view-ports toreflect staggeringly from the mountain walls, a tired girl called outto Tod Denver.
She met him inside the airlock. In her arms snuggled a pile ofwrithing radiance, like glowing worms. Moonpups. A whole litter ofmoonpups.
"They're cute," Soleil commented, "but I've never seen anything quitelike this before."
"It must have been a delayed fuse," said Denver, wilting. "Here we goagain."
He fainted....
* * * * *
Awakening was painful to Denver. He remembered nightmare, and thelatter part of his memory dealt with moonpups. Swarms of moonpups. Asif Charley hadn't been enough. He was not sure that he wanted to openhis eyes.
He thought he heard the outer flap of the airlock open, then someonepounding on the inner door. Habit of curiosity conquered, and hiseyelids blinked. He looked up to find a strange man beside his bed.The man was fat, fussy, pompous. But he looked prosperous, and seemedexcited.
Denver glanced warily about the room. After all, he had been strained.Perhaps it was all part of delirium. No sign of the girl either. Couldhe have imagined her, too? He sighed and remembered Darbor.
"Tod Denver?" asked the fat, prosperous man. "I got your name from aSergeant of Security Police in Crystal City. He says you own amoondog. Is that true?"
Denver nodded painfully. "I'm afraid it is. What's the charge?"
The stranger seemed puzzled, amused. "This may seem odd to you, butI'm in the market for moondogs. Scientific laboratories all over thesystem want them, and are paying top prices. The most unusual andinteresting life form in existence. But moondogs are scarce. Would youconsider parting with yours? I can assure you he'll receive kindtreatment and good care. They're too valuable for anything else."
Denver almost blanked out again. It was too much like the moreharrowing part of his dreams. He blinked his eyes, but the man wasstill there.
"One of us is crazy," he mused aloud. "Maybe both of us. I can't sellCharley. I'd miss him too much."
Suddenly, as it happens in dreams, Soleil Martin stood beside him. Herarms were empty, but she stood there, smiling.
"You wouldn't have to sell Charley," she said, giving Denver acurious, thrusting glance. "Had you forgotten that you're now afather, or foster-grandfather, or something. You have moonpups, inquantity. I had to let you lie there while I put the little darlingsto bed. And it's not Charley any more, please. Charlotte. It has to beCharlotte."
Denver paled and groaned. He turned hopefully to the fat stranger.
"Say, mister, how many moonpups can you use?"
"All of them, if you'll sell." The man whipped out a signed, blankcheck, and quickly filled in astronomical figures. Denver looked atit, whistled, then doubted first his sanity, then the check.
"Take them," Denver murmured. "Take them, quick, before you changeyour mind, or all this evaporates in dream."
A moondog has no nerves. Charley--or Charlotte--had none, but thebrood of moonpups had already begun to get on whatever passed fornerves in his electronic make-up. He was glad and relieved to be ridof his numerous progeny. He, or she, showed passionate andembarrassing affection for Denver, and even generously included SoleilMartin in the display.
Denver stared at her suddenly while she helped the commission agentround up his radiant loot and make ready for the return to town. Itwas as if he were seeing her for the first time. She was pretty. Notbeautiful, of course. Just pretty. And nice. He remembered that he wascarrying her picture in his pocket.
She was even an Earth-girl. They were almost as scarce in the mooncolonies as moondogs.
"Look here," he said. "I have money now. I was going out prospectingbut it can wait. I kind of inherited you from your father, you know.Do you need dough or something?"
Soleil laughed. "I need everything. But don't bother. I haven't anyclaim on you. And I can ride back to the city with Mr. Potts. He lookslike a better bet. He can write such big checks, too."
Denver made a face of disgust. "All women are alike," he mutteredsavagely. "Go on, then--"
Soleil frowned. "Don't say it. Don't even think it. I'm not goinganywhere. Not till you go. I just wanted you to ask me nice. I'mstaying. I'll go prospecting with you. I like that. Dad made me studyminerals and mining. I can be a real help. With that big check, we canget a real outfit."
Denver stopped dreaming. "But you don't know what it's like out there.Just empty miles of loneliness and heat and desert and mountains ofbare rock. Not even the minimum comforts. Nights last two Earth weeks.There'd just be you and me and Charlotte."
Soleil smiled fondly. "It listens good, and might be fun. I likeCharlotte and you. I'm realistic and strong enough to be a genuinepartner."
Tod Denver gasped. "You sure know what you want--Partner!" He grinned."Now we'll have a married woman along. I was worried about wanderingaround, unprotected, with a female moondog--"
Soleil laughed. "I think Charlotte needs a chaperone."
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Master of the Moondog Page 8
