Crater Trueblood and the Lunar Rescue Company

by Homer Hickam

  “This is a warship, not a maintenance tug,” Valence replied. The point made, he nodded to a crowhopper who, if Crater could read crowhopper expressions correctly, was frightened. “Newberry, you are not much of a warrior, but I think you have some mechanical skills. Go with this enemy, obey him as if he were me.”

  Newberry knuckled his forehead. “At once, sir.”

  Valence shook his head. “How I got stuck with Newberry, I’ll never know. Go ahead, Crater. Take him and good luck. Maybe you can make a man out of him. Oh, and when or if you decide the engine cannot be repaired, let me know instantly so we can kill ourselves. Don’t wait too long.”

  “I’ll do my best, Captain,” Crater said, then waved the crowhopper Newberry to follow him.

  FORTY-NINE

  The Jan Davis fused on through space. Tiger had a warpod on the pulsdar. “It just released a spread of six missiles at us. I can smash it anytime you say, Colonel.”

  Riley looked hard at the Colonel, who was sitting in one of the jumpseats. When all she saw were vacant eyes staring back at her, she said, “I think the Colonel is out of commission, Tiger. Evade the missiles, then take out the warpod.”

  “Roger that,” Tiger said. He pushed the throttles forward, flying straight at the incoming missiles. Three miles away, he pulled the fuser up, flying over the missiles, which turned with him to follow.

  “There it is,” Riley said, pointing at a shadow on the pulsdar that represented the attacking warpod.

  Tiger swept the fuser along, the missiles continuing to follow him, then poured on the coal, flashing over the warpod. The pulsdar lit up as one of the warpod’s own missiles struck it. Then a second, third, and fourth hit it. There was nothing much left for the fifth and sixth missiles to blow up. “They’re smashed,” Tiger said.

  “Colonel, we took out the warpod,” Riley said to no reply.

  “I’ve seen him like this before,” the sheriff said. “He’ll snap out of it.”

  “Was he like this when he decided to put the horde in L5?”

  The sheriff put his hand on the Colonel’s armrest and pulled himself down to face the great man. “Come on, Colonel, pull yourself together. We need you.”

  The Colonel kept staring ahead except for an occasional blink.

  “A warpod has docked with the station,” Tiger said, observing the pulsdar.

  “The Colonel may be indisposed,” the sheriff said, “but his orders stand. Smash the station.”

  “We’re not going to smash the station,” Riley retorted. “If we can, we’re going to rescue Maria.”

  “Hold on,” Tiger said. “Our pulsdar is picking up something big between the moon and the Earth.”

  Riley looked at the pulsdar and was surprised by the size of the echo. She moved a cursor over it. “Puter, calculate velocity and course of the target,” Riley said.

  The puter replied, Target is accelerating. It will strike the Earth in eighteen hours.

  “How big is it?”

  One point two miles in diameter.

  Riley and Tiger exchanged shocked glances. “How do we stop that thing?” Riley asked.

  “Nothing can stop it,” Tiger replied. “Maybe it could be deflected.”

  “With what?” When Tiger had no answer, Riley said, “We need to alert Earth.”

  “We can’t reach Earth through our jerry-rigged apparatus,” Tiger replied.

  Riley thought for a moment, then said, “The station can call Earth. Let’s go there.”

  Tiger plotted a course for the station and pushed the throttle forward. “We’ll be at the station in an hour,” he said.

  FIFTY

  Crescent and Maria, with a phalanx of crowhoppers piling in behind them, burst onto the warpod bridge. One of the crowhoppers flung Truvia down. “The Trainers are dead,” Crescent said to the warpod captain. “The station is now under my command. Give me your name.”

  The warpod captain looked at the rifles leveled at him and Truvia’s body and came to attention. “My name is Captain Philippe. Command me.”

  “Give me a situation report.”

  “My warpod is acting as a temporary bridge. Its puter is keeping track of the asteroid.” He gestured toward a viewscreen. “There you may see the view camera attached to it.”

  “What asteroid?” Crescent asked while intently staring at the viewscreen.

  Captain Philippe tugged at the neck opening in his armor. “I thought you were aware of it. Many apologies. Its number is CS2241, an unexciting nomenclature for a rock that is one point two miles wide.”

  “What is its destination?” Crescent demanded.

  “Why, Earth, my lady,” Philippe responded. “It will arrive in about eighteen hours.”

  “Warn Earth,” Crescent commanded. “Now!”

  “Yes, of course. But who should I call?”

  “Call Medaris Enterprises in Armstrong City,” Maria said. “Tell them to contact our family on Earth. If anything can be done, they will know what to do.”

  “But Medaris Enterprises now belongs to your father,” Philippe said. “Will they do as they’re told?”

  Maria beckoned to one of the crowhoppers. “You! What’s your name?”

  The crowhopper came to attention. “Tristan, madam.”

  “Tristan, get my father.”

  Within a few minutes, her father appeared on the bridge with Tristan the crowhopper pushing him. At the sight of Maria, her father’s face lit up. “Maria, you’re alive! Who is this? Is it a female crowhopper? And what happened to the bridge? I’m so confused.”

  “What are you on, Junior?” Maria tiredly asked. “Take him back, Tristan. He’s worthless.” She turned to Captain Philippe. “Call the company in Armstrong City. Ask for a Miss Torricelli.”

  When the call went through, Maria said, “Teresa, this is Maria. Do you recognize my voice?”

  “Yes, Dr. Medaris. It’s good to hear it too. We’re a little confused. Your grandfather retired and your father is now the president of the company.”

  “No, he isn’t. I’m assuming control. Now listen carefully. This is going to be hard to explain . . .”

  FIFTY-ONE

  Crater held up his hand through the hatch. “Give me a spanner wrench, Newberry.”

  The crowhopper handed over the tool, then said, “What have you found, sir?”

  “This engine is in good shape. It was the cross feed to the other engine that shut it down. All I’ve got to do is seal off this tankage line and . . . There, got it. Call the bridge and ask them to run up the pressure in the primary feed lines.”

  Newberry made the call. “Run up the pressure in the primary feed lines. What? Of course, now!” He waited for confirmation, then said, “They’re doing it now, sir.”

  “Hold it!” Crater yelled. “We’ve got a bad leak here.”

  Newberry made the call again. “Crater said to stop the line pump,” he said.

  Valence’s voice crackled over Newberry’s radio. “Hasn’t he given up?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  “I figure we’ve only got about six hours of stale air left. Tell him I’ll give him three hours and then we’re all going to kill ourselves as provided for in our contract.”

  Crater popped his head through the hatch. “Tell Valence to kill himself first to see what it’s like, then report back to the rest of us.”

  Newberry worked his gray face into a grin. “I don’t dare tell him that, sir.”

  Crater chuckled. “It was a joke, Newberry.”

  “We don’t tell jokes in the Legion.”

  “Really? Well, I’ll teach you some later. Everything looks good for this one engine except for a propellant line that’s got a crack in it. I could replace the line, but it would take me too long. You wouldn’t happen to have some duct tape on you, would you?”

  “Not sure what that is, sir.”

  “It’s kind of a gray color and you use it to wrap around pipes to stop leaks.”

  Newberry frowned. “I w
onder if you mean pipe tape, sir. It matches your description. Here, I have a small roll of it in my kit.”

  Crater snatched the tape. “That’s it! Well, Newberry, I need about two big rolls of it, all right?”

  “Why, yes, sir. Just give me a few minutes.”

  When Newberry returned, he was pushing a box before him. Crater tore it open. “Jackpot! Perfect.” Taking two rolls of tape, he disappeared through the hatch and before long poked his head up. “Call Captain Valence. Let’s have another pressure test.”

  The response to Newberry’s call was not encouraging. “We are not going to run any kind of test. It’s time to go out as heroes.”

  Crater crawled out. “Give me that radio, Newberry. Thank you. Captain Valence, this is Crater. Look, I think I’ve solved the problem, but I need a pressure test on the propellant lines to engine number two.”

  Valence grunted and growled. “All right, but this is for the last time. Pressure test underway.”

  After a few minutes, Crater said, “The lines are holding.”

  With Newberry close behind, Crater went hand over hand to the cockpit. Arriving, he said to Valence, “Fire up engine number two.”

  “It will probably blow up,” Valence replied.

  “Only one way to find out, Captain.”

  Captain Valence shrugged, then signaled to a helmsman who made the necessary inputs on the engine puters. This was followed by the whine of an auxiliary power unit and then the blistering roar of an engine. Valence ran it for ten seconds, then waved at the helmsman to shut it down.

  Valence turned to Crater. “I suppose you want a medal.”

  “No, Captain, I want you to switch sides.”

  “Impossible.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Petro said, shoving a workpad at the Captain. “Here’s your loophole, sir. Section three, paragraph one bravo. Read it and cheer, fellows. It says, ‘the company’—that’s you guys—‘will respond to the will and commands of the contractor’—that would be the creeps on the station—‘as long as the contractor maintains a viable command and control. If the C&C is lost due to enemy action or any other reason, including negligence, commanders of fleet vehicles shall make reasonable inquiry as to the status of the contractor and the time frame in which the C&C will be reestablished. If the contractor does not respond within a reasonable period of time, commanders are authorized to remove themselves from the field of battle and declare an independent status until the company headquarters provides them with direction.’ ”

  Petro slapped the pad shut. “What do you think about that?”

  “I think it’s words stacked on words,” Valence said. “And I don’t know what it means.”

  “It means if you don’t hear anything from those creeps at the station, you’re authorized to go rogue.”

  “Go rogue? I don’t know that phrase.”

  “It means,” Crater said patiently, “you’re authorized to do whatever you darn well please.”

  “In that case, I will take all of us and find a safe place.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Crater replied. “Sign a contract with us.”

  Valence’s heavy brow lifted. “You mean for money?”

  “For money, yes.”

  “I’ve never had any money. The Trainers always got the money.”

  “Now’s the time to start. Being a capitalist is fun.”

  “How do I know you will pay me?”

  “Wait a second,” Petro said. He reached into his coveralls and drew out a small bag and handed it to Valence. “Gold coins are in there. That ought to cover it.”

  Valence opened the bag and inspected the contents. “Is that real gold?”

  “Run it through a spectrometer and you’ll find it’s almost one hundred percent pure,” Crater said while looking askance at Petro.

  Petro’s grin was weak. “If I hadn’t brought it with me, you would have left it behind.”

  “Gold coins weren’t on the top of my list of survival gear.”

  “Well, clearly they should have been!”

  “Were you planning on keeping them for yourself?”

  “Brother, you just don’t understand me, do you?”

  “All too well.”

  Valence, seeing the brothers had finished bickering, tucked the gold in a hidden pocket beneath his armor and pointed out the obvious. “I could just kill you and keep this.”

  “I put a timer on your environmental system. If I’m not around, a valve will close and you’ll suffocate. Gold is hard to breathe.”

  Valence laughed. “You are a worthy opponent.”

  “I’m an even better friend.”

  Valence came to attention and saluted with his big gloved hand. “What are our orders, my admiral?”

  FIFTY-TWO

  The Jan Davis slid next to the station. “L5 station,” Riley called, using her do4u. “This is the fuser Jan Davis. Request permission to come aboard.”

  “State your purpose.”

  Riley’s mouth dropped open before it turned into a grin. “I think that’s Maria!”

  “State your purpose.”

  “Our purpose is to rescue you! This is Riley. The Colonel is aboard and the sheriff. Also pilot Tiger Tramon!”

  Another voice answered, this one rough but feminine. “This is Crescent Claudine Besette of the Lunar Rescue Company. I am in command of this station. Use the auxiliary airlock on the lower ring.”

  Tiger began to maneuver. Riley looked behind her and saw the Colonel pawing at his seat belt. “She’s alive! Maria’s alive!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

  The sheriff helped the Colonel unbuckle. “Calm down, sir. Let me help you. There, now you’re free, but hold on. You’ll see Maria soon enough.”

  As soon as the fuser was docked and the hatches opened. Maria came sailing inside. She went straight to the Colonel and hugged him. When she pushed herself back, she saw how haggard and confused he looked. “Grandfather, what’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been sick, Maria. Very sick.” He pointed at the station. “That’s why this exists and the horde too.” He shook his head. “I will be punished. So will Junior. The company will also suffer.”

  “Oh, Grandfather, we have a bigger problem than that. An asteroid a mile wide is on a direct intercept with the Earth! I called Miss Torricelli to alert the family so they can call somebody on Earth who might do something.”

  The Colonel absorbed Maria’s words, then said, “Those idiots on Earth couldn’t organize a scrap drive. They’ll all be at each other’s throats, and they won’t get it together in time. We’ll have to do what we can from here.”

  “But what can we do?”

  Crescent climbed aboard. “You could catch it on this fuser,” she said, “but to deflect an asteroid that size, you’d need nuclear warheads. Do you have any?”

  “Conventional only,” Riley said, raising her eyebrows when Maria took note of her old rival for Crater.

  “Why are you here?” Maria demanded.

  Riley grinned. “Your grandpa hired me for a bucket of money, honey.”

  “My lady,” Captain Philippe called, “there’s a warpod requesting permission to dock. I’ve had to tell them there’s no docking station open. How do you want to handle it?”

  “Who is it?” Crescent asked.

  “I’ll patch them in.”

  “L5 station, requesting permission to come closer.”

  Maria recognized the voice. “Crater Trueblood!” she exploded, her heart slamming against her chest. “Is it really you?”

  “Maria! Is that you?”

  “It’s me! It’s me!” Tears of joy shimmered in globules beneath her eyes. A flick of her eyelashes shredded them.

  “Did Crescent save you?”

  “I did, boss!” Crescent hooted, blinking her own tears away. The crowhoppers all glanced at each other uneasily as the tears floated through the cabin.

  “Crescent was magnificent. But listen, Crater, we’ve got a little problem. It
turns out there’s a mile-wide asteroid heading for Earth. It just went past the moon. About twelve hours away from impact.”

  Crater was silent for a moment, then said, “I’ll have to think about that.”

  “While you’re thinking, I’m going to say something to you right now, and I don’t care who hears it.” She glanced defiantly at Riley, who shrugged. Captain Philippe had taken Crescent aside for a conversation and moved out of earshot. “I’ve had a lot of time to think, Crater,” Maria said with quiet determination, “and during that time the one thing I was always absolutely sure about was this: I love you. You may not love me back, not now, and I understand that, but I love you more than life itself even if you’re going to be the father of someone else’s baby.”

  “Someone else’s baby? Maria, what are you talking about?”

  Maria was giddy and knew she was close to babbling. Yes, the world was going to be destroyed and her beloved grandfather was addled and her father was a miserable worm, and yes, she’d been rescued by a woman who was having the baby of the man she’d finally figured out she loved.

  All those things were true. Yet somehow, inexplicably, Maria Medaris had never been happier.

  FIFTY-THREE

  Crater was waiting at the airlock. The sheriff and the Colonel emerged first. The sheriff frowned and said nothing, then took the Colonel by the arm. “Where’s the infirmary?” he demanded.

  Newberry the crowhopper was with Crater. “Newberry, take these two along, please,” Crater said, and the crowhopper did.

  Maria was the next one through the airlock. She flung herself into Crater’s arms and kissed him full on the lips. For a moment, nothing else mattered except the knowledge that they loved each other and the importance of their embrace. Reluctantly Maria broke the kiss and looked into his blue-gray eyes. “I wish I could kiss you forever,” she whispered.

  “So do I,” Crater fervently replied, his voice husky. This felt like a dream. The woman he loved was not only alive but loved him back. His head was spinning. “What did you mean about the baby?”

  “Crescent is having your baby.” Saying the words out loud sobered the high Maria felt from Crater’s kiss.