by Jack L Knapp
“Well, well! Scientists have been talking about this for some time, but nothing came of it.”
“Nothing might have come of it even now, had the terrorists not succeeded in knocking out a large part of California’s grid. The new modular system is being forced through by officials from that state.”
“So when can I get my first three reactors, and how much is it going to cost me?”
“Six months, perhaps as little as three. Much depends on expanding our thorium production plant, but I can promise you three reactors in six months or less. About the cost, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about. The rest of this could have been handled by telephone, but negotiations are sensitive, are they not?” The Japanese beamed at Chuck. The others were also smiling. Chuck shook his head ruefully; he still held a monopoly, the only craft capable of safely disposing of spent fuel rods, but the Japanese now had a monopoly of their own. And they had a reputation for being hard-nosed businessmen.
#
Lina straightened up and rubbed her back. Bending over the desk, necessary when changing the habitat design, stressed her. Anyway it was time to head for the hospital; the pediatrician had scheduled an appointment to discuss the results of her last visit.
He entered the small office shortly after she arrived and they exchanged greetings.
“Mrs. Sneyd, Robbie appears to be developing well. I have no real concerns at this point. We were concerned because the babies were born prematurely, but she’s progressing normally. Bobby, however...have you noticed that he’s not quite as active as Robbie is?”
“Robbie’s trying to roll over, I think she’ll manage it any day now. Bobby isn’t that far along, but he nurses, he’s happy and smiles at me...”
“Yes. His muscle tone isn’t quite where I think it should be at this stage, and he hasn’t yet demonstrated a preference for one hand over the other. It’s not a problem, but I thought I should prepare you for the possibility. Twins, especially premature twins, occasionally develop cerebral palsy, CP. It happens to boys more often than girls when the twins are fraternal. Early detection and treatment are important. I emphasize that this is only a possibility at this point, but early intervention can help.”
“Oh, God! Does that mean Bobby is retarded? Will he be crippled?” Tears formed in Lina’s eyes.
The doctor wordlessly handed her a box of tissues. “Right now, it doesn’t mean anything. Time will tell; he may catch up to Robbie, and even if the condition is present, the symptoms may be very mild. He responds well to you, that’s a good sign. As for mental function, some babies appear to compensate, the child with cerebral palsy developing greater intelligence than his sibling.
“Not all babies progress at the same rate, although we expect them to reach development milestones at approximately the same time. This is true even for those who are premature, we adjust based on expected delivery date. The important thing at this point is that he’s not keeping up with Robbie. While this is no more than an initial observation, I think it best I let you know. If, and I emphasize if, the condition is present, not all children have the same range of symptoms. At this point, I simply want to observe Bobby. Don’t encourage him to go beyond his abilities; he’ll know when it’s time to roll over or sit up. If you keep a journal of their activities, that would help. I’d like to see both babies in another month. Of course, if there’s a problem, call me immediately.”
Lina wiped her eyes. “I’ll make the appointment, doctor. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mrs. Sneyd. Love your babies equally. You’ll be tempted to cuddle Bobby more, but Robbie needs you too. Take a few moments if you need to gain control. We can schedule around this room.”
#
Frenchy knew something was wrong as soon as Lina came in. Her eyes were red and swollen and she picked up the babies, cradling one in each arm.
“Is it Chuck, honey?”
“No, dad. He’ll be here in another hour or so. It’s Bobby. How do I tell Chuck?”
“What did the doctor say, Lina?”
“He thinks Bobby may have cerebral palsy. Oh, dad, my baby! He may be retarded!”
“And he may not. More commonly, there’s a problem with muscle control. Bobby may need crutches or a wheelchair. So what? Most CP children grow up and live relatively normal lives. Anyway, as soon as Chuck’s here, I have to leave. I’ll be in Honolulu for the weekend.”
“How do you know all this stuff?”
“Oh, no reason. I looked up premature births, and it happens fairly often with twins.”
“Dad, have you met someone in Hawaii?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m working on some financial matters, more personal than anything. The business is fine, Chuck’s doing a great job. I’ll be back on Sunday.”
“Okay, dad. I don’t say it often enough, but thanks. I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad I can help. I’ll consult a specialist while I’m in Honolulu. If Bobby has CP, he’ll get the best care I can find.”
Frenchy met Chuck as he walked in the house.
“Lina needs you. She just got notified that Bobby may have cerebral palsy.”
Despite the shock, Chuck’s eyes were shrewd. “You don’t seem too upset, Frenchy. How long have you known?”
“The doctor mentioned it when he was three weeks old. That’s why they kept them in ICU so long. Robbie progressed normally, Bobby was a little slower. I talked to the doctor two weeks ago; he was 90% positive by then. I decided not to tell Lina; there was no reason for her to worry, there was nothing anyone could do, and anyway the diagnosis isn’t certain even now.
“I’ll be in Honolulu for the weekend. I’ll catch a flight and be back Sunday night.”
“Why don’t you take the Lina? I won’t need her until you get back. I’ll call the crew, they’ll be expecting you.”
“That would definitely speed things up. I’ll be glad to, if you’re sure. I may even continue on to New York. I figured Honolulu would have to do, because flying takes too much time.”
“Go ahead. I’ll spend the time with Lina and the babies.”
Chapter Thirteen
John Knox muttered “Fire in the hole” as he pulled the ring on the first igniter, but only Wolfgang heard him. A spark and tiny fizz of smoke, quickly whisked away by the vacuum, showed that both fuses were burning.
Despite artificial legs and the restrictions of his space suit, John was soon at the lifter. Buckling himself into the rear seat took only moments, and by the time he’d finished, Wolfgang had the small craft heading for Gypsy Moth. Half an hour later, ship idling far above the lunar surface, they waited.
There was little to see at first. The flying rocks moved too fast and explosive-generated smoke vanished rapidly, so only a series of intense strobe-like flashes and an expanding shock ring confirmed that the shaped charges had blown. The site was immediately hidden by floating dust, roiling where the explosion had taken place, hanging above the surface further out.
“Okay, they all went. I counted the flashes. Wolfgang, my recommendation is to wait a day or two before inspecting the site, maybe even longer. You can’t see much because of the dust and we don’t know how long the rock-falls will last.”
“I see what you mean,” Wolfgang said thoughtfully. “That’s something new, a fog of dust.”
“Why don’t we head back to Earth? There’s nothing we can do, so why hang around out here in space? Once you’ve seen a few thousand moon craters, you’ve seen them all.” John’s comment drew chuckles from the men.
“Makes sense to me. Okay, I’ll let Chuck know we’re heading home. Iceland or Finland?”
“No preferences, but I want to talk to Chuck.”
“Me too. What about you guys? Any ideas?”
The four crewmen seated in the rear of the cabin glanced at each other and shrugged. Finally one spoke up. “No real preferences. Good beer, fun people. Either one is all right.”
“I’ll ask
Chuck where he wants to meet.”
“Question for Mister Knox. Are we staying on the moon job?”
“Absolutely. You’re still on the payroll, just take a day to unwind and check in tomorrow. I’ll let you know when the next trip topside is scheduled.”
“Thanks, Mister Knox.
“Chuck says Finland. He’s bringing Pete along and wants to run a few ideas by us before he makes a decision.”
#
Lina fretted. Chuck was gone and Frenchy hadn’t returned from his last trip. She missed the warm feeling of support both had given her.
The new house was spacious, more luxurious than anywhere she’d previously lived. The staff was efficient and unobtrusive, available when she had something to say but otherwise going quietly about their jobs. They were also, in the Australian way, very informal. Maggie, the nanny she’d hired to help with the twins, was the one she saw most often. Calm, patient, efficient...was this the norm for those who worked for wealthy clients, or did it have something to do with the relationship between the aristocracy and their servants? Whatever it was, Lina decided she liked it, and Maggie was a treasure.
Bobby was progressing, if not as rapidly as Robbie. The doctor had refused to give a firm diagnosis, despite four monthly visits. Was it really CP, or simply the normal variation between babies? Despite herself, Lina hoped the doctor had been needlessly alarmist.
“Lina?” Doris, the housekeeper, waited inside the door of the nursery.
“Yes, Doris?”
“Your father has landed. He will be here shortly.”
“Thank you, Doris. Ask him to see me when he arrives, if you please.”
“I’ll do that, Lina.” Doris vanished as silently as she’d appeared. What was Frenchy doing, all these visits to Honolulu and now New York, wondered Lina. She intended to ask him; the trips had become a regular weekend occurrence.
She was sipping a morning cup of coffee on the terrace when Frenchy walked in.
“Morning, dad. How was your trip?”
“Better for me than the pilot. Trips don’t take long when you’re using the Lina, but he flew Chuck in, flew me to New York, flew Chuck back to Finland last night, then picked me up in New York this morning. I’m reasonably fresh, despite the jet lag, but he’s drooping. Good thing the flight computers do most of the work.”
Frenchy accepted a cup of coffee and a buttered roll, then continued. “I suppose we should change the name. It’s not jet lag now, it’s space lag. Same thing, but it’s only going to get worse. I’ll ask Chuck whether he’s changed his mind about developing airplanes with impellers.”
“He thinks the risk is too great, not to the passengers but to us. Sooner or later, someone will develop the impeller drive independently or they’ll succeed in stealing one and reverse-engineering it. All those planes, all those pilots...the risk is too great.”
“I won’t second-guess him. Come to think on it, we’ve got another source we should be concerned about.”
“If you’re talking about the Tesla, Chuck hasn’t forgotten. Sven Nelsen’s her captain now, and Chuck believes that no one realizes she’s different. She’s been operating for three years now, why would anyone look twice at an old tramp freighter? Meanwhile, Sven is sending reports and he seemed happy with the way the impellers work, according to the last report. That’s been a while now, but if things had changed, I think we’d have been informed.”
“Yes, probably. That’s good to hear, that the impellers are working well. I suppose there’s no reason to fret, and again, Chuck’s the CEO so it’s his decision to make. How are the habitat designs coming along?”
“I’ve got a workable design and Chuck’s happy with it. It’s actually quite similar to designs done by several other manufacturers, so we won’t even need a prototype. An Australian company is working up specs and so far, I’m satisfied. I can drop in and see how things are going as soon as they begin production.”
“Here in Brisbane?”
“No, Sydney. But it’s not so far as all that.”
“I suppose. How are the twins?”
“Doing very well. Do you want to see them?”
“Yes. Bring them here, you think?”
“No, let’s go to the nursery. They should be asleep by now.”
#
Chuck was late; a previous meeting had run longer than expected. Wolfgang noted the signs of stress, the new wrinkles and bags under his eyes. Chuck, still in his forties, looked like an old man. His hair was graying at the temples and beginning to thin. The job was clearly taking a toll.
“Sorry, let me get a cup of coffee and we can begin. John, good to see you; how did the shaped charges work?”
“They blew up, if that’s what you mean. There’s too much dust hanging around the site, so I decided to give the crew a break. I told them they’re still assigned to the moon project and still on the payroll.”
“Absolutely, we aren’t laying people off. We’re short of good people, we don’t want to lose any. They’re here?”
“Right, I gave them the day off. They’ll call in tomorrow morning.”
“Take them out for a few drinks, buy them a nice dinner on the company. How about you, Wolfgang?”
“I need to talk to you. Maybe it should be private, I don’t know.”
“If you think that’s best, sure.”
“I guess it’s not important. Chuck, you remember I said I’d think about Moonbase?”
“Right, but I thought you were happy running the job.”
“I’m not. I’m in over my head. I want to go back to flying, maybe run flight ops if that’s still open. But I didn’t understand half of what John was saying, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Well, I’m disappointed, but if you’re sure, then I’ll find someone else.”
“Maybe you won’t have to look far. What about John here?”
“What about him? John, are you comfortable with having us talk about you like this?”
“Chuck, I’ve heard worse. If you’re okay with it, I’m okay. I’ll just fetch another pot of coffee, this one’s empty, and you can say what you want while I’m gone. If that’s all right with you.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
John left with the carafe. Wolfgang watched him go.
“Chuck, he’s very competent. I talked to him on the way down, he’s done a lot more than blow things up. He was an engineer officer, he commanded men and women, put up buildings and those instant-fort things they’re using in the Middle East, he’s good with people and is comfortable making decisions. Watching him made me realize my own limitations. He’s the man for the job.”
“Let me think about it for a moment.”
The two waited in silence until John came in and warmed up their coffees.
“John, how would you feel about it, taking over the Moonbase job?”
“I’d like it. What about Wolfgang?”
“He wants to run flight ops. I’m inclined to give him the job, at least for now. We don’t know what will happen with Will, and I’m sure we can find something suitable for him to do.”
“He recommended me, did he? I guess I did good when I didn’t blow us up!”
The three laughed, then Chuck said, “It’s your job, then. Let my staff know what you need regarding people and supplies. Let Wolfgang know what flight support you’ll need.”
“I’ll work something out on paper. I’ll need more people, some of them explosives trained. I’ll also need heavy vehicle operators. What happened to the idea of a heavy dirt-mover for the moon?”
“Almost done. The engineers built three of the engines before they got it right. The trials took longer than designing the engines, and so far they’ve only been run in a vacuum chamber, but they work fine in there. The rest of the machine looks more like a tank than an earthmover. It’s a combination dozer and backhoe, and the backhoe attachment can be swapped out for a bucket. It’s got big fuel tanks, oversized batteries, and a large generator to keep
them charged. The batteries are not only for starting the engine, they’re also needed to keep the fuel tanks warm. Otherwise, the diesel fuel would turn to petroleum jelly as soon as the sun went down. The tanks are insulated, but even so...” he shrugged.
“So how are we supposed to get it to the moon?” asked Wolfgang. “None of our ships are big enough,”
“In parts. The machine...we haven’t decided whether it’s a backdozer or a bullhoe...is being packed for shipment now. Lots of bolts and nuts and washers, including extra ones. You’re bound to lose a few, working in gloves. Tools, too; there’s a lot of redundancy. As for shipping it, we’ll have it delivered and assembled in two or three weeks. John, you’ve got that long to find your operators.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. So I’ve got authority to hire, fire, and run the job?”
“You do. See me if you have a problem.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks, Chuck.”
#
Chuck and Lina each held one of the babies, who gurgled happily at the attention. Frenchy was home too; whatever he’d been doing was apparently ended. He sipped his coffee and glanced benignly as the couple played with the babies, then turned back to reading The Wall Street Journal. Finally, he laid the paper aside and said, “Say, Chuck, how about letting me have my grandson.”
“Sure, Frenchy. I think he’s due for a change, so you’re just in time.”
“Maybe I should hold Robbie.”
“Too late; these two do things together! Come on, dad, I’ll give you a hand.” The two, carrying the babies, headed in for the nursery. Chuck poured a cup of coffee and picked up Frenchy’s newspaper. He was still reading when they returned, ten minutes later.
“Frenchy, did you see this article?”
“Which one was that?”
“There’s been a shakeup at your former company, the one where you were a director. Stock prices are way off and Sol’s out. Apparently he’s not even getting the usual golden parachute; he was fired for mismanagement, and by the terms of his contract, he gets nothing. He’s still got stock holdings, but considering what the shares are trading for now, they’re not worth nearly as much as they were before.”
