Part 46 (2/2)
”And Global News and the White House,” he added.
Meyers gave him a disdainful look. ”You know what I mean, Edan.”
”Okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. ”But what more can I do? Global's been airing Edie Elgin's reports from Moonbase. Faure's p.i.s.sed as h.e.l.l with me over that.”
”You could start by showing what a ghost town this s.p.a.ce station has become,” Meyers said. ”American jobs are down the tubes because of Faure.”
”And the New Morality's insistence that the nanotech treaty be enforced even on the Moon.”
”Right.”
”You want me to take on the New Morality?”
She hesitated, studying the expression on his face. McGrath had been handsome before he'd let himself start going to fat. He still looked pretty good. But is he strong enough? Meyers wondered.
Carefully, she said, ”I want you to show the American public-the world public, really-how much this war against Moonbase is really costing.”
The waiter brought McGrath's first course. Once he left, McGrath lifted his soup spoon, but instead of digging in he jabbed it in Meyers' direction.
”You know,” he said, ”There's nothing like a really good controversy to boost ratings.”
Meyers grinned at him.
MOONBASE.
”What on Earth are you doing?” Claire Rossi blurted.
Nick O'Malley was dragging a bulky container into their one-room quarters. It looked like an oversized piece of soft-sided luggage, and it made their little compartment crowded.
”Emergency procedure,” O'Malley said, pus.h.i.+ng the container into the corner between the bunk and the desk. Still it took up almost half the floors.p.a.ce.
Rossi watched impatiently as her husband knelt on one knee and began to rip open the Velcro seams of the container. She leaned over his broad shoulder and looked inside.
”A s.p.a.cesuit!”
”Right,” O'Malley said. ”I'm going to show you how to get into it, in case you need to while I'm not here.”
”Why would I-oh.”
As he hauled the torso and leggings of the suit out and spread them on the bunk, O'Malley said, ”When the attack comes we might lose air pressure. This gadget here will yowl when the pressure drops below a safe minimum.”
He put a small gray box on the shelf carved into the stone wall above the bunk.
”When you hear this go off, you get into the suit as fast as you can. Here, I'll show you how.”
”But suppose I'm in the personnel office when it happens?” she asked.
O'Malley shook his head. ”When the Peacekeepers start their attack everybody not on essential duty will go to their quarters. That's orders from management.”
She almost started to twit him about her personnel job being considered non-essential, but the dead serious expression on her husband's face stopped her.
Instead she asked, ”Is everybody getting a s.p.a.cesuit?”
”Not enough to go around,” he answered, shaking his head.
”Then why do I get special treatment?”
He smiled bleakly at her. ”Because you're a special person. You're married to me. And you're pregnant.”
”But that means somebody else will have to go without a suit.”
His lips were a grim, pinched line. ”Claire, hundreds of people here are going to go without a suit. But you're not. Now let me show you how to put it on properly.”
She knew better than to argue with him. He's trying to protect me, she told herself. And the baby. But if the air pressure goes down, lots of people will die here. And how long will the suit keep me?
Aloud, as she struggled into the clumsy leggings, she asked, ”Where will you be when the shooting starts? Not operating the tractors, of course.”
He scowled. ”No. I've been a.s.signed to help Professor Zimmerman, for the sake of St Ignatius.”
”Zimmerman?”
”I think Doug Stavenger wants me to be the old man's bodyguard.”
”Is the professor getting a suit?” Rossi asked as she tugged on the boots.
”There isn't one in the base that'd fit him.”
”Oh dear.”
As he knelt at her feet and helped her zip the boots and leggings together, O'Malley said, ”After just half a day with the old b.u.g.g.e.r, I almost wish somebody would knock him off.”
”That's no way to talk, Nick.”
”He's impossible.”
”He's a genius and geniuses have their quirks.”
O'Malley made a sour face. ”You know what I've been doing for him all morning? Collecting dust!”
”What?”
”I've been teleoperating a tractor all d.a.m.ned morning, scooping up dust off the regolith for him to experiment with.”
”That sounds crazy.”
”Tell me about it. He wants to build nanomachines that behave like dust particles, so he tells me he needs samples of dust to work with.”
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