The Blue-Haired Bombshell

by John Zakour

  Carol touched me on the shoulder. ‘‘Zach, she’s a good person. She’s just torn by her bond to the Moon, her quest for revenge, and the urge to do the right thing.’’

  ‘‘Aren’t we all?’’ I said.

  ‘‘That’s why I let her take control of me. So she would open up and trust me,’’ Carol said.

  ‘‘You let her turn you into her personal massage therapist?’’

  Carol locked eyes with me. ‘‘That was my original intent. Truthfully though, I’m not sure if that was really my original intent or her intent to make me think it was my intent.’’ Carol paused, finger to her lips. ‘‘She did help me learn a few tricks though. She is quite the teacher. So, even if she did possibly take advantage of me, she paid me back.’’

  DOS, dealing with psis gives me such a headache. I decided to turn my attention to the landing. Well, actually it was more of an attaching. Due to the dome holding in most of the Moon’s breathable atmosphere, the shuttle couldn’t actually land inside of the colonized area. The shuttle would hover above the domed area and attach itself to a large elevator. The elevator then ferried down ten passengers at time. It was a high-speed elevator but after a long trip I was a little jumpy. I was anxious to get my feet on solid Earth. I mean Moon. Ground. You know what I mean.

  Things moved pretty orderly. It wasn’t long before Carol, Elena, and I were on the elevator; the last three passengers to deshuttle.

  ‘‘Thank you for flying with us,’’ one of the roboservers said as we got on the elevator. ‘‘Please consider us for your return trip.’’

  ‘‘Is there any other option?’’ I asked as the door began closing.

  ‘‘No, but our marketing people insist we put that in,’’ the bot said.

  The door finished closing. We started down.

  ‘‘So, Zachary, have you decided what to do about Boris?’’ Elena asked.

  I shook my head. ‘‘I don’t make rash moves.’’

  Carol just stared at me. HARV appeared from my wrist com also staring at me.

  I rolled my eyes. ‘‘I’m trying to reduce the number of rash moves I make.’’

  Carol and HARV both seemed pleased with this.

  ‘‘Once I gather more info then I’ll decide,’’ I told Elena.

  ‘‘I will give you a bit more time,’’ Elena said, her voice quivering.

  The door to the elevator opened to the Moon’s greeting and clearing area. It was a big, open dome-within-a-dome.

  Sputnik had arrived a good half-hour before us but he was still in the area. He was flanked by a marching band and even more young blue-haired women.

  The marching band was carrying a holographic sign that read: WELCOME BACK OUR ILLUSTRIOUS ADMINISTRATIVE LEADER.

  Sputnik was devouring the attention. He wasn’t just basking in it, he was absorbing it.

  Elena cut through the crowd, making a beeline to Sputnik. I kept both eyes glued to her. I wasn’t sure what she was up to, but I knew I wasn’t going to like it.

  As she drew closer to Boris Sputnik, I noticed that shining object appear in her left hand again.

  ‘‘HARV, zoom in on Elena,’’ I shouted. DOS! When she said a bit more time I thought she meant days or at least hours, not seconds.

  A cursor appeared in front of my eye. The image of Elena enlarged. I plainly saw the glistening knife in her hand. I popped the Colt 2062 into my hand.

  ‘‘GUS, just take out the weapon,’’ I said.

  ‘‘You got it big guy!’’ GUS shouted.

  I pulled the trigger, aiming at the knife. A split nano later, my blast knocked the knife out of Elena’s hands, sending it clunking to the ground. Sputnik turned to see Elena coming toward him, holding her hand. It didn’t take him long to figure out what was going down.

  Melda and Lea were first to react, moving toward Elena. About a dozen other security people and some gorillas in blue armored uniforms were also encircling her.

  That’s when things got weird. Everything and everybody, except for Elena, started moving like they were in slow motion. The last thing I remembered before everything just stopped was Elena snaking her way through the crowd toward the exit.

  Next thing I knew, everything was back to normal speed and Elena was gone.

  ‘‘What the DOS was that?’’ I said.

  ‘‘My temporal sensors are out of alignment by ten seconds,’’ HARV said.

  ‘‘Elena can warp time with her mind,’’ Carol said in awe. ‘‘That is so sub-absolute zero!’’

  It didn’t take long for Sputnik to recover and regain his composure. Sputnik and his entourage headed toward us.

  ‘‘Are they mad at us?’’ I asked Carol.

  ‘‘No. They think you saved him, which you did,’’ Carol said.

  The big question now was, why was I able to do it? If Elena had wanted Sputnik dead just then, she could have done the time warp thing then killed him. DOS, why would she even bother to use a knife? Why didn’t she just vaporize him with her brain?

  Sputnik wholeheartedly patted me on the back. ‘‘Thank you for saving me, Mr. Johnson,’’ he said.

  ‘‘I finally realize what the lovely Miss Electra sees in you.’’

  Melda and Lea moved forward, each grasping one of my hands. ‘‘Yes, thank you for saving him.’’

  Lea took a step back. She studied me. ‘‘He’s wondering why she ran.’’

  ‘‘The thought did cross my mind,’’ I said. ‘‘We were all at her mercy, yet she booked.’’

  They all looked at me blankly.

  ‘‘Booked is Zach’s simple way of saying ran,’’ HARV said.

  Sputnik smiled. ‘‘She ran, or booked as you say, because she can’t hold time like that for more than a few seconds and it leaves her drained. My wife and daughter would have, how do you say it, done a number on her ass. Elena always thinks of her own salvation first.’’

  Lea took another step back. She tilted her head, still gazing into my eyes. ‘‘He’s wondering why she used a knife.’’

  ‘‘True,’’ I said. ‘‘Don’t know why she just didn’t melt you from across the room?’’

  Sputnik’s smile stretched out. ‘‘Two reasons: the first, that would have left her drained and she wouldn’t have been able to escape so easily.’’ He paused.

  I waited. Got nothing. Then asked, ‘‘And the second?’’

  His smile retracted some, but it was noticeable. ‘‘Her sense of deranged honor. She feels I killed her father, so she wants to kill me with her own hands. I’m afraid my niece has issues.’’

  Lea looked at me again. ‘‘He’s surprised Elena is your niece.’’

  Sputnik patted me on the shoulder. ‘‘Yes, she’s my twin brother’s daughter.’’ Sputnik motioned to Lea, like he was a game show host showing me a prize I had won. ‘‘Elena and Lea were born on the same day.’’

  Now that he mentioned it, I noticed the two girls carried many physical similarities. Lea was slightly darker and taller. Elena’s eyes were a bit larger and more European, but they did have a touch of Asian in them. The girls could have been sisters.

  Lea looked at me. ‘‘He’s wondering why we look so much alike.’’

  ‘‘My daughter resembles my niece so much because my twin sister is her aunt,’’ Melda said.

  ‘‘Twins married twins?’’ I said.

  ‘‘It’s quite common,’’ Bo reassured me.

  Lea studied my face. ‘‘He says . . .’’

  ‘‘I’ll talk for myself,’’ I told her.

  ‘‘Fine,’’ Lea said, taking a step back.

  ‘‘She claims her mother is also dead,’’ I said.

  Everybody laughed. This was either a cold bunch or I had been had.

  ‘‘She is talking figuratively,’’ Melda said. ‘‘My sister Shara is very much alive and well and running our Psi Training Center. When my sister didn’t disown Bo immediately for what Elena believed was the killing of her father, Elena disowned Shara.’’

&
nbsp; Bo nodded. ‘‘Elena is a bit of loose cannon.’’

  I looked at Sputnik, ‘‘Then why do you let such a powerful psi roam free?’’

  Sputnik’s face straightened out. ‘‘This is not Earth,’’ he said. ‘‘We do not fear psis for simply being themselves.’’

  ‘‘He has a point,’’ Carol said in my head.

  ‘‘This guy is smooth,’’ HARV added.

  I ignored them. ‘‘They have their freedom even if they are a threat to others?’’

  Sputnik put his hand on my shoulder, ‘‘My friend, she was a threat only to me. I was willing to take that chance in the hope that she would see the error in her ways.’’

  ‘‘Besides, until now we had no actual proof,’’ Melda said.

  ‘‘Now we do,’’ Lea said.

  ‘‘Yes, we do,’’ Sputnik said, like the wise father. He held up one finger. ‘‘We will bring her in and make sure she gets the help she needs and deserves.’’ He looked me dead in the eyes. ‘‘We know how to treat our own on the Moon.’’

  Lea, Melda, and about twenty other people nodded in agreement. He was good.

  ‘‘Where are you staying?’’ Sputnik asked, raising his tone and acting as if there hadn’t just been an attack on his life by a freakishly powerful psi.

  ‘‘Ah, not sure . . .’’

  HARV appeared. ‘‘We are staying at the Dark Side of the Moon Bed and Breakfast.’’ HARV looked at me. ‘‘It’s not really on the dark side, it just borders it.’’

  Sputnik shook his head. ‘‘Not anymore. You are now staying at the No Seasons Resorts, the finest temporary residence on the Moon.’’

  ‘‘Thanks,’’ Carol said.

  ‘‘It is close to my home and office, so I can easily give you a tour.’’ He looked around. ‘‘I’ll have the gorillas take your luggage.’’ He looked around some more. ‘‘I don’t see any luggage.’’

  ‘‘I travel without it,’’ I said. ‘‘My clothing is equipped with special nanotechnology so it is constantly cleaning itself.’’

  Melda smiled. ‘‘Yes, one of Dr. Pool’s lab’s more practical inventions.’’

  ‘‘This way, if needed, I can wear my same subzero P.I. outfit day after day and still be able to sneak up on the bad guys,’’ I said.

  Melda looked at Carol. ‘‘What about you, my dear?’’

  ‘‘I wanted to get the full Moon experience, so I decided I’d shop for a whole new wardrobe here,’’ Carol said. ‘‘My outfit has the same nano-cleaners that Zach’s does so I won’t offend, but a girl needs a change.’’

  Sputnik clasped his hands together. ‘‘Splendid. That works out perfectly then. You check into your hotel rooms and relax for a tad and then we will pick you up. Lea and I will show Zach around while Melda shows Carol around.’’

  He didn’t make it a question, he made it a statement. He was letting us know that we were on his turf, playing by his rules.

  ‘‘You sure you don’t want to rest up a bit more after the long flight?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘No, no,’’ Sputnik answered. ‘‘For some reason, we all slept a lot this trip.’’

  Chapter 21

  Sputnik called for a special limo to take us to the No Seasons resort. He apologized that he couldn’t include us in his cavalcade, but every seat in his limo convoy was taken by staff or family. He noted that it’s not easy being the most important person on the Earth’s biggest satellite.

  I gave Sputnik his due, as the limo he arranged pulled up to the curb by the shuttle port less than a minute after Carol and I left the building.

  The driver got out of the car. The first thing I noticed was he was a gorilla. I’m not talking metaphorically; he, like the security team and baggage handlers, was an actual gorilla. He hopped over the car and opened up the back passenger doors. He tipped his bright yellow hat and bowed.

  Carol got in first. I followed. The gorilla closed the door. ‘‘Thank you, my good monkey,’’ I said.

  The gorilla made some gestures with his hand— sign language.

  ‘‘He says, ‘I’m a gorilla, not a monkey,’ ’’ HARV said.

  The ape jumped back over the limo and into the driver’s seat through the open window. He started the car and pulled away from the curb.

  ‘‘How do I sign, ‘it was a joke’?’’ I asked HARV via my communicator.

  The gorilla made more hand signals.

  ‘‘He says he understands English as well as Chinese. He knows it was a joke but it wasn’t a very good one.’’

  ‘‘Maybe you have to be human to appreciate it?’’ I said.

  More hand movements.

  ‘‘He says he doubts it,’’ HARV said.

  Carol patted me on the shoulder. ‘‘Trust me, Tió, the gorilla is right.’’

  ‘‘Do you have a name?’’ I asked the driver.

  He made more hand signals.

  ‘‘He says ‘no.’ All gorillas on the Moon just answer to ‘hey you.’ ’’

  The gorilla started to giggle. So did Carol. So did HARV inside my head.

  ‘‘Okay, it may have been a dumb question,’’ I admitted.

  The gorilla made a fast hand movement.

  ‘‘He says ‘may’?’’ HARV said.

  I pushed myself back in my seat. ‘‘I hope you’re not expecting a big tip,’’ I told the gorilla.

  More hand signals.

  ‘‘He says his name is Magilla,’’ HARV said.

  ‘‘Really?’’ I asked, a bit more excited than I should have been.

  The ape just shook his head no. He made a hand signal then said, ‘‘Oooo oo ooooo ug eek ah . . .’’

  ‘‘He says his name is Ooooo oo ooooo ug eek ah,’’ HARV said.

  ‘‘Really?’’ I asked again.

  The gorilla made a couple quick hand movements.

  ‘‘He says, nah, his name is really Maurice.’’

  I looked at him with one eye. This time, I didn’t say a word.

  He made more hand signals.

  ‘‘He says he wishes he was kidding,’’ HARV said.

  ‘‘I don’t blame him,’’ I said.

  As we drove, I took in the lunar sights that Maurice pointed out. The colony itself was an impressive place. It should be, for the money the major powers, then the World Council, spent on building it. It had the advantages of being new and having a controlled population. That meant lots of wide-open spaces lined with trees and flowers. What wasn’t wide-open was occupied with nice, new, shiny buildings. According to Maurice and HARV, the Moon’s population was carefully regulated to stay between 1 million and 1.1 million people living in over 5,000 square kilometers of ‘‘renovated planet.’’ In comparison, New New York crams over 13 million inhabitants into roughly 1,000 square kilometers.

  The Moon also had the advantage of being in a totally pollution-free atmosphere. The dome encasing the inhabited area had a controlled environment that would always keep the temperature regulated between 20 and 24 degrees Celsius. The dome also regulated the lighting cycles, simulating an Earth day, giving a very consistent sixteen hours of daylight and eight hours of night, every day and night. All the energy sources on the moon were either hydrogen, fusion, or solar with no emissions. So, the air may have been man-made, but it was cleaner and purer than anything on Earth . . . at least according to Maurice and the holographic brochure playing in the limo.

  I tried contacting Electra but HARV informed me that the conference was in a twenty-four hour black out period so they could concentrate without outside distractions. Maurice told me that tomorrow when the blackout lifted he would gladly drive me to the Moon’s conference center, noting that the attached living center is almost as spectacular as the No Seasons.

  Maurice dropped Carol and me off at the hotel. It was a tall, spiraling building that reached almost to the top of the Moon’s protective dome. The plan was Carol and I had an hour to relax and clean up before Sputnik and his crew arrived to give us the grand tours. Maurice mention
ed that we might want to consider quick showers. He didn’t want to offend us, but he did mention that gorillas and Mooners have keen senses of smell.

  Carol and I walked into the hotel and checked in. We were greeted by a peppy hotel clerk. She was a tall, slim, light-blue-haired girl, quite anxious to serve us. After the easy check-in process (we only had to give her our names and DNA prints) a couple of apes in bellhop suits accompanied us to our penthouse suite.

  The gorillas led us to an elevator and pressed the access code for the top floor. We hopped on. The elevator zoomed upward. Within seconds, the door opened to the penthouse itself.

  ‘‘Sweet suite,’’ I said.

  One of the apes made a couple of gestures.

  ‘‘It’s a three-bedroom, five-bath suite,’’ HARV translated. ‘‘The finest on the Moon.’’

  The ape wasn’t kidding. The general living area the elevator opened up to was both spacious and elegant. The place was lined with golden carpet, thicker than my lawn during the best of times. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The part of the room nearest the elevator was the open rec area. It had a purple felt pool table, a foosball table, and an interactive virtual gaming center.

  Walking a bit brought you to the relaxation area dotted with light purple couches and overly stuffed chairs. Each of the chairs and the couch could recline, rotate, levitate, and had robo-massage. The room was fitted with the latest in VHD HV, meaning you could project the latest in holographic information and entertainment to any corner of the room. The built-in ad that played when a person would walk by a certain spot (which I quickly learned to avoid) called it the total interactive entertainment experience, which was ‘‘better than being there.’’ And of course there was a bar area, complete with stools and automated drink creator.

  The far wall of the room was a Plexiglas picture window. According to the gorillas, the window led to the best view of the Moon on the planet, which made it one of the best views in all of the known universe. That might have been a bit of an overstatement, but it was a pleasant sight nonetheless. Looking down on them from above, most of the structures on the moon seem to be made from plastic blocks, but they were very shiny, colorful plastic blocks. Gazing past the city structure I saw lush green fields of crops. At first these seemed to be a stark contrast from the totally man and bot-made look of the city, but after pondering for a nano I realized the fields were just as out of place on what was once a barren rock.