Part 65 (1/2)
Doug held out his hand and O'Malley took it in a limp, weary grip. ”Never again,” he muttered.
”Look!”
Turning to the observation window, Doug saw Edith holding a conglomeration of blankets in her arms with a tiny, red, squirming bald baby in the middle of it.
”I got the whole thing on camera,” Edith said through the window. ”She'll be on Global News in a few hours.”
O'Malley brightened a bit and pushed himself to his feet. ”She's kinda beautiful, isn't she?”
”Even in the midst of life, we are in the midst of death,” intoned Robert Wicksen. Doug had been surprised when Wix had volunteered to preside at Lev Brudnoy's burial service. The physicist was also a lay minister, he had revealed.
Now they put Lev's remains into the soil of the farm he had lovingly tended over the years.
”Ashes to ashes,” Wicksen murmured. ”Dust to dust.' Doug stood at his mother's side. Joanna sobbed quietly as Lev was lowered into the ground where he had planted the Moon's first flowers.
Hours later, after dinner, Edith and Doug joined practically everyone else in Moonbase in decorating the three-meter-tall aluminum tree that had been erected in the middle of The Cave. There was plenty of rocket juice going around, and G.o.d knows what else. The party went from festive to raucous as the hours wore on.
Long after midnight, Doug walked beside Edith as they headed for their quarters. The alcohol he had consumed was quickly and efficiently broken down by the nanomachines inside him. Doug regretted that he couldn't get drunk even when he wanted to.
Edith seemed quite sober, as well. The gashes on her face were completely healed, not even the slightest trace of a scar, thanks to the nanotherapy Kris Cardenas had supervised.
”You're pretty quiet,” Edith said.
”Yes, I guess so.”
”Post-partum blues?” she kidded.
He looked at her: smiling blonde Texas cheerleader. ”Pre-partum blues,” he replied.
”Pre... I don't get it.”
”Claire's had her baby. You've got your Christmas story. The nanomachines have been cleaned out of you. There's not much reason for you to stay here now, is there?”
Edith's face went serious. ”You know about the offer Global made me.”
”Jinny told me about it. Managing editor of the entire news department and your own prime-time show every week.”
”I don't want to be managing editor,” Edith said. ”That's more headache than anything else.”
”But prime time...”