"Sure, anything I'm really attached to is in the ship anyway. I can wear my knife can't I?"
Richard answered grinning, "On Earth that would be very eccentric, illegal even, but in Luna it will just make you fit in."
"Let's get out and play tourist then before I go nuts and we can go to our new digs when we get back."
"Digs?" Gordon asked.
"I've been watching old vids again. Films really. But this was pre-space and the building went up instead of down," she said furrowing her brow. "Now I have to research where that slang came from," she said irked. "It never seems to end."
"Where do you have in mind?" Richard inquired.
"Apollo National Park," Lee answered immediately.
"Oh course," Richard said, resigned.
* * *
The limo was wide enough to seat three abreast, which put Gordon alone facing Lee sandwiched between bodyguards. Richard insisted on coming along, because it was such a public place. He and Gordon's guards rode pull-down benches sideways facing each other.
"It's good we're going mid-week," he told them. "Friday through Sunday both levels are full and you are not allowed to step off the slide and just stand there to look. Weekdays you can step off as long as there is room and the rangers will only come by and move you along if they have rode the belt all the way around and seen you twice. They don't even hassle you for setting up a tripod for photography."
"You've been there before then," somehow Lee sounded disappointed.
"Yes, when I was about thirteen years old. My folks brought the family up for vacation and we all went together. Back then you had to take a rover out to the site, but the city has grown around it since. Actually the city grew past, right under it. They just didn't allow anything under it until the eighth level down. And no heavy industry is allowed for a two kilometer radius. They were scared the vibration would shake the regolith back level destroying the footprints."
"You said we're going to be fifteen levels down. How deep does the city go?" Lee wondered.
"On the maps you can find a couple public elevators that go down to the thirty-second level," Richard answered. "There are some others that go down to thirty-eight, but when you step out all the doors say support personnel only. I've been told some of the defense levels go down two kilometers with offset elevators and collapsible shafts so a blast from above can't propagate down the shaft to the lower levels. Supposedly they have tunnel machines and can dig themselves out afterward."
"It's reversed from Earth," Richard explained. "When I had an apartment in Chicago it was on the hundred and fourth floor. Anything over a hundred you pay a twenty percent premium, for your association fee and taxes. I was on the corner, which is more desirable too, with a view across the lake and along the shore that curves away to the south-east. I also got the sun in the windows and could keep house plants without grow lights. Here, the deeper you are the more expensive it gets. You are further from vacuum and safer."
"Do you want to see it from the upper ring or the lower?" Richard asked. "They have separate entries from different corridors to spread the peak traffic out."
"Which do you recommend?" Lee asked.
"I like the upper. The rings are about two hundred meters across. They built them right up against the old railing from when you had to come out in a p-suit. If you are looking down from about four meters you get a better look at the details of the lander and can see the foot prints better. The view from the lower level looks more like most photos for the site, so people are satisfied when it's what they expect."
"Let's do the upper then."
"Mark and Diana are your guards today," Richard introduced them. "I picked them to look like the three of you make a family. If there are any problems I urge you to follow their instructions." Both were dressed like Loonies. Diana had looser clothing to try to hide some of her musculature. Mark wore more typical footed tights with slide slippers and a hoodie-T that showed his build off.
Lee nodded politely at them.
"Aaron and Jesus are with you, Gordon. I know you are bigger and armed," he said looking at the ax tucked in his belt, "but the same applies to you. If anybody gives you a hard time just walk away and let your escort handle it, please."
"No problem," Gordon assured him.
"I'm armed too," Lee reminded him touching her dagger.
Richard lifted an eyebrow, but hesitated to say anything.
"She came back to protect me on Derfhome," Gordon reminded him. "Attitude is everything," he concluded.
Diana twisted around enough to inspect Lee closer. "Protect him, from what?" She wanted to know. It clearly seemed absurd.
"She stalked another Derf near a kilometer through the late twilight in the deep woods," Gordon explained. "He seemed unfriendly, carrying a 20mm auto-carbine at the ready. She was scared he'd get the drop on me and followed him back into camp and was ready to ambush him if he moved wrong."
"I hope to hell she had something more than her dagger?"
"I had a 6mm hypervelocity pistol," she answered for herself. "I know that's light, but it was set on full auto and if I shot I was going to aim low on his chest and just let the recoil carry the burst up across his head. But Gordon had a hold-out. I wasn't really needed anyhow."
"You've shot it on full auto before?" Diana insisted on knowing.
"Well, not to kill anything," Lee admitted. "When we were walking around Providence I'd pick out rocks and tree trunks and such, to fire bursts into them at different ranges. Quick bursts of six or seven shots seem to stay on target pretty good. I've shot several thousand rounds in the last year. I'm not saying I'm an expert, but I can get the job done."
"You shoot anything to hunt?" Mark asked from the other side. He had an odd neutral quality about his voice.
"Hunt to eat? No. The testing is way too complicated and long term, to hunt on a new world. I've shot a few specimens when I saw something new and I shot quite a few dinos trying to hunt me," she said and then shuddered all over. She hadn't thought about that for almost two days now.
"I'm sorry, that's obviously an unpleasant memory," Mark said, embarrassed.
"I was in my sleeping bag," she explained. "They kept trying to chew their way in and I'd just jam the muzzle against their head and fire. Sometimes it took two or three rounds because I couldn't see what I was doing. I'm pretty much over it," she insisted, "No problem."
There was a tense and embarrassed silence for a few seconds and then Aaron over by Gordon spoke up.
"I've been on the Moon three years now and I've never seen the monument. I keep saying I'll come out here and then when I have a day off I always have something else to do."
"I'll cover your butt for you a few minutes when we're by the windows," Richard offered. " You can rubberneck and play the tourist and get paid for it."
"And free beer?" Aaron wondered.
"Don't push your luck."
The limo stopped and somebody opened the doors from outside. Richards face showed no surprise, so it didn't worry Lee. Apparently they had an extra man up front with the driver.
"The Park entry is about two hundred meters down this corridor," Richard explained as they got out. "When the viewing area was moved indoors, the only way the city would give permits and zoning for it, was if there was no direct access from vehicles. Sales of food and trinkets to tourists were a pretty good chunk of the city's economy back then. They didn't want to lose it to people dropped off at the door from a hotel shuttle and picked back up with no chance to shop."
Along both sides were very narrow storefronts. There was a sit down diner with a long narrow counter running perpendicular to the corridor. The kitchen was all the way to the back and the orders were sent out on a track under the counter. The serving staff had to practically hug to pass each other and the wall behind them had a line of flat screens showing news and every third screen a live feed from the monument. Lee doubted Gordon could fit down the narrow aisle. The next narrow shop had a man outside i
n Twentieth Century period dress waving a cane calling them to come in his store, "It gets pricier the closer you get to the Park. Come in here for the best deals." A stern look from Richard in the lead got the cane pulled out of their path and the man even took a step back. A look in the open front showed shelves of nick-knacks and models of landers. Lee suddenly remembered her mom called such stuff chachka. Spacers didn't keep little things sitting out – they become missiles in unscheduled course corrections.
"There are actually people inside buying that silly junk," Lee said amazed.
"People who live in houses groundside love little things to sit around for decoration. If they have company visit it shows where they've been on vacation without having to brag out loud," Diana explained.
"Get your photos taken in an Apollo space suit," another barker called. Samples of family groups peering through antique face plates festooned the front of the shop.
"Genuine moon rock crafts," boasted another shill.
"Dark of the Moon Peep Shows" proclaimed another that didn't offer free samples, but the lady out front in purple high heels and tiny bikini gave a hint at their wares.
"This is so, so..." Lee seemed at a loss for words.
"Tacky?" Mark suggested.
"Yes," Lee agreed, heartfelt. "I expected it to be more like the first landing monument Gordon took me to where Humans and Derf met."
"How was it?" Mark seemed genuinely curious.
"It was quiet and solemn and reverent." Lee told him.
He nodded, but didn't say anything Lee wasn't sure if she'd offended him, then decided not.
The dazzling light and intrusive pitches cut off when they stepped inside the Park. It took a few steps before their eyes started adjusting. The first room had models of the complete Apollo vehicle, then individual components. Finally they had a full size copy of the lunar module, the LM in the next room. Through the exit from that room, was to a moving walkway around the site.
The walk went counterclockwise so the windows and the descent module were to their left.
"They speed the walk up a bit when there is a big crowd," Richard told them. "I read about that in the local news."
The module was in sunlight and there were a fair number of openings at the windows so it was easy to step off the belt. Lee gripped the hand rail under the window and tried to imagine how it was to land here when there was no city and no help if anything went wrong in such a little craft. It was smaller than their air car, much less the shuttle. Being one of a few people on a whole empty world she didn't have to imagine very hard. She'd done it.
"I relieve you," she heard Richard tell Aaron a few feet to her left. Her own guards were facing the other way, watching behind her, not looking at the lander. After a few minutes Aaron came over and shared a small pair of binoculars with her. She zoomed in and looked at the funny corrugated footprints and a few pieces of what would be litter she supposed if it wasn't historic. She tried to fix it in mind solidly to remember forever, because it mattered.
"I've always thought they shouldn't have gone all the way around it, so you'd see how it was out on a plain," Aaron told her. "But now I guess it doesn't make any difference, because Armstrong has grown all around it and there are buildings and equipment sticking up all around."
"OK, I'm happy," Lee told them when she had absorbed enough and got back on the track to continue around. "I'll be ready for some lunch by the time we can get anyplace," she called over her shoulder to Richard and Gordon.
They circled around until they reached the grab bar that helped you get off the moving strip to the solid floor and turned away to the same corridor they had come in. It got noisy again, but not so loud she couldn't hear the single gruff exclamation, "Derf!!" behind her. She turned to the sound as Gordon did also, swiveling his head to look over Aaron at a man waiting in line to get in just as they had. The man's hand flew up and there was a glint of metal.
Jesus threw himself against Gordon to knock him out of the line of fire and Lee heard the breath puff out of him as he bounced off Gordon like hitting a wall. There was a deafening BOOM made worse by the enclosed space. Gordon's true hand shot out and wrapped around the man's hand and weapon, in a huge fist and Diana wrapped her arms around Lee and took her to the floor. She could still see, even with Diana on top of her and watched Gordon reach up with his other true hand and feel the top of his head. Gordon's voice filled the sudden silence, "Son of a bitch, that hurt!" He brought his hand back down and looked at the bright blood on it.
The fellow was ripping at the big fist enclosing his hand and weapon with his free hand, frantic to get away and screaming something Lee couldn't follow. Aaron and Jesus both grabbed the fellow as did several of the crowd. There was a pyramid of Loonies quickly formed and a patch applied to the small whistling hole in the overhead.
The man was unremarkable, swarthy with curly black hair, a little shorter than the locals who tended over two meters. And loud.
A fellow from the crowd produced a telescoping baton and told Gordon, "Don't let go yet. He still has his finger on the trigger." A sharp crack sounded as the baton wielder broke bone in the fellow's wrist and he screamed like a little girl. Lee wasn't sure who it was, but a hand flew up and applied a patch just like the one on the ceiling to the fellows' mouth. Another three strokes of the baton made sure he wasn't going to pull the trigger again.
"Militia!" somebody called. "We need militia here." An older gentleman worked through the crowd, pulling an elastic brassard up his arm.
"Will somebody record?" he asked. Several people held up com pads with camera lenses, pointed down at the clump of people.
"What's have we got here?" the old fellow asked.
"This fellow," the baton wielder tapped on the muzzled one's head none too gently, "breached municipal pressure in the commission of a crime with a prohibited weapon."
"He got any ID on him?" Rough hands produced a thin wallet and a com pad.
"Gerald Buckley? Who here saw Mr. Buckley breach pressure? I don't mean heard the gun go off and then looked. Who was actually looking when he fired?"
"He yelled out 'Derf!' before he fired," a man in the crowd called out, "so just about everybody within three or four meters turned to look. I saw it clearly," he told the militiaman.
"OK, everybody willing to testify to that, please look at a camera and state your name and citizenship." About a dozen called out names and most were from the Lunar Republic. Gordon gave his short name and Derfhome, but Lee felt she had to keep things very clear and gave her full form Derf name and claimed Derfhome. About half way through her name it got very quiet in the corridor and when she finished quite a few eyes were on her with curiosity or disbelief.
"Sir?" she raised her hand toward the militiaman.
"Yes, uh, little gal?" He didn't attempt the name.
"This man was waiting for us just when we came out. We stood and looked at the descent module for some time. The only way he could time it to pass us right here, is if he had somebody inside to call him, when we got back on the track to leave."
"Hmm, OK we'll see if we can determine if his pad got a call and compare it to the security tapes taken in the observation ring. Thank you. There may be an accomplice to breaching municipal pressure. OK gentleman, let's see what he has in hand."
Gordon was now holding a bandage on his head with his other hand, but gently opened his fist and revealed an old fashioned revolver in the miscreant's hand. Someone removed it carefully after sticking a thumb under the cocked hammer and unloaded it before handing it to the militiaman. The man showed the removed cartridges around. "Full metal jacket," he told them loudly, "not frangible." Several took video of them on his palm. There was an angry murmur of disapproval.
"You are the second aggrieved party, after the citizens of Armstrong," the militiaman told Gordon. "I'm judging him guilty of the first offense of recklessly breaching public pressure with an illegal weapon. That is a capital crime here, so attempted murder is a moot point
. I'm awarding you his weapon, since it is a nice antique and you've taken physical loss. I thank you for not just cutting him down with your left hand and making a mess in the corridor." He gave the trophy over to Gordon and looked in the man's wallet. "A couple thousand bucks USNA. Please accept that with the apologies of the Lunar Republic for your bad experience. I'll keep the cards and ID for the record and any next of kin. Don't load that back up in public pressure or you'll be in violation too, understand? There is proper frangible ammo for sale, though I don't know if you can find it for something that old."
"Yes sir," Gordon answered. "I understand completely. It's a reasonable law and custom."
"You got any idea why he'd want to blow your obviously hard head off?"
"I have no idea, but would it offend local custom to just ask him?
"Not custom as long as we don't hurt him, but something tells me I won't like anything he says. Think you can rip that patch off?" he asked the fellow holding his right arm.
"I doubt it. I got one stuck to my arm once and we had to wait until the top layer of skin died and it just fell off. I'd try just slitting it where his lips should be."
"Try that, but be careful. The Republic doesn't torture prisoners, no matter what a scum sucking pile of shit they are."
"Don't move," he was warned. When he struggled an arm snaked around his neck from behind and an elbow under his chin ended that nonsense.
"There, you should be able to speak," the Loonie said putting his pen knife away. But the prisoner just glared at him.
"You are guilty as hell of breaching municipal pressure," the militiaman said. "Anything you want to say while you have a chance?"
"It's no crime to kill an animal," he said with his voice oddly distorted from the patch.
"We're not talking about furry face here," the old fellow literally waved that away. "You opened a hole to vacuum," he reminded him pointing up at the patch, "Call that attempted murder of the entire city. That's what we're worked up about. Somebody call you to set this up?" the old fellow asked. The man just glared at him.
Family Law Page 20
