The Precipice (11 page)

“We could use a weekend off,” she said. “Or even a night on the town.”

The sun had sunk behind the mainland's mountains. They could see the lights on the mainland beginning to wink on.

“Sorry, kid, no can do,” Randolph said. He started walking along the seawall. “I told you when you agreed to take this assignment,
you stay here in the complex.”

“Security, yeah, I know,” Pancho said, following him.

“Your own security, too,” Randolph said. “Not just the company's. You're very valuable now. You and Amanda are crucial to
this entire operation. I don't want you running any risks.”

Pancho thought it over. He's trusting us with this whole operation, right enough. Can't blame him for being careful. Still…

She looked across the strait again at the lights of the city.

Then a new thought struck her. Does he know I'm supposed
to be snooping on him? Is he keeping us bottled up here so's I can't get in touch with Humphries?

“Can I ask you somethin'?”

Randolph smiled tiredly at her in the fading light. “Sure, go right ahead.”

“I've heard rumbles that you were—well, that Astro's got money problems.”

Randolph hesitated a moment. Then, “Corporations always have money problems.”

“I mean, like, you're purty close to broke.”

“Pretty close,” he admitted.

“Then why're you sinkin' all this money into the fusion ship?”

The light was dying fast. Pancho could barely see his face. But she heard the determination in his voice.

“Two reasons, kid,” he said. “First, if it works, Astro can get first licks at the Belt. Our stock will zoom up, our profits
will skyrocket, and the only money problem I'll have is how to spend all the cash flowing in.”

Pancho said nothing, waiting for his second reason.

“And also,” Randolph went on, “opening up the Belt is crucial for the human race's survival.”

“You really think so?”

He stopped walking and turned toward her. “We can't take much more of this climate warming, Pancho. Millions have died already,
tens of millions. But the worst is yet to come. If Greenland goes—”

“And Antarctica,” she interjected.

“And Antarctica,” he agreed. “If they melt down, civilization drowns. Billions will die, not just from the floods but from
starvation and disease. We can't support the Earth's population now, for god's sake! There's famine in half the world, and
it's getting worse, not better.”

“You think the asteroids can help?”

“We need those natural resources. We have to rebuild our industrial base, rebuild our wealth.”

“In space.”

“Yep. Where we should've been building for the past half-century.”

Pancho made a low whistle. “That's a big order, boss.”

“You're damned right it is. But if we fail, the human race fails. Only a handful of people will live through this, and they'll
be thrown back to a pre-industrial level. Subsistence farming. No electricity. No machinery. No medicines.”

“The Middle Ages.”

“More like the Stone Age,” Randolph grumbled.

“That's why you're hangin' everything on this flight to the Belt”

She couldn't see his face in the deepening darkness, but she sensed him nodding.

“Everything I've got,” he said flatly.

Everything he has. The enormity of it suddenly hit Pancho like an avalanche. He's risking everything he has on this flight,
his whole company, his whole life. He's willing to gamble everything he's worked for and built up over his lifetime on this
one mission. And he's trusting me to fly it for him. Me.

The responsibility felt like the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Lemme ask you somethin' else,” Pancho said, her voice trembling slightly. “Why'd you pick me to make this flight? You've
got lots of other pilots with more experience.”

Randolph chuckled softly. “More experience, sure. But they've got families to support. Spouses. Kids.”

I've got a sister, Pancho thought But she said nothing.

“Besides,” Randolph went on, “none of them have your abilities.”

“My abilities?”

“Listen, kid, I went through every scrap of data on every pilot in Astro's employ and quite a few who aren't on the company's
payroll. You came out on top. You are the best we've got”

Pancho felt suddenly breathless. Hell, I know I'm good, but am I really
that
good?

“Before you ask for a raise,” Randolph said, “I've got to tell you that my personnel people don't agree with me. They think
you're a flake.”

“Whattaya mean, a flake?” Pancho demanded.

“The rap on you, kid, is that you're not serious. You like to take risks, play games.”

“Not with my flyin'.”

“Oh no? Like the time you raced Wally Stinson from Selene to the Farside site?”

“Aw, c'mon, I was only havin' some fun,” Pancho protested. “Wally let his testosterone do his thinkin' for him.”

“And this bet a few months ago about vacuum breathing?”

“That was just a hoot.”

He chuckled in the growing darkness, but then said, “You're a gambler, Pancho. That scared the hell out of the personnel gurus.”

“I won't gamble with your fusion ship,” she said firmly.

Randolph was silent for a few heartbeats, then he said, “I know you won't, Pancho. That's why I picked you to fly her.”

“What about Amanda?” she heard herself ask. “She's better'n me, isn't she?”

“She's got more education, she's more cautious. But she's not better than you. Close, but not better. Anyway, if you go, I
want you to have another woman pilot with you. Guys get funny ideas after a couple of weeks locked up in an aluminum can.”

The plan was to carry an engineer/technician and at least one geologist or planetary astronomer on the flight. The mission
was designed to be more than a mere test of the fusion drive; it was supposed to bring back results. It had to.

“I can handle the guys,” Pancho said.

“Yep, I'm sure you can. But why bring up the problem?”

“You don't think Mandy'll cause a problem?”

Randolph laughed softly in the darkness. “I see your point. She can raise temperatures when she wants to.”

“Even when she doesn't want to.”

“I had a long talk with Amanda yesterday. She's going to be prim and proper during the flight. No bedroom eyes. No tight uniforms.
She agreed to behave herself.”

Pancho was shocked. The little sneak never said a word to me about talking with the boss.

“She'll be strictly business. She promised.”

“I don't know if she can help herself,” Pancho said.

“You think I should take her off the mission?”

Pancho blurted, “No, I think you should take me off it.”

“You? Why?”

Don't do it! She raged at herself. Don't go blabbing it out to him. He'll fire your butt out of here like a hot rocket and
then make sure nobody'll ever hire you again. But he
trusts
me. He's hangin' his whole world on me because he trusts me to get the job done even when his personnel office doesn't.

“Why should I take you off the mission?” Randolph insisted.

Cursing herself for six kinds of a fool, Pancho said, “Martin Humphries hired me to spy on you.”

“He did, huh?” In the starlit darkness, Randolph sounded much less surprised than she thought he would. “When was this?”

“More'n six months ago,” Pancho said, barely able to get the words out “Last time I was up at Selene.”

Randolph fell silent and resumed pacing slowly along the seawall. Pancho walked beside him, listening to the sighing of the
wind, the grumble of the surf, waiting for him to explode or snarl or say
something.

At last he started to laugh. Not loud, joyful laughter. Just a low, cynical snickering. “I knew the sonofabitch would try
to plant snoops in my drawers, but I never figured he'd recruit you.”

“You can fire me if you want to.”

“What did he offer you?”

“Money.”

“Is that all you're after?”

Pancho hesitated a heartbeat. “I got… family to take care of.”

“Your sister, yes, I know.”

“You know?”

“I told you, I went over every nanobit of data about you. I know about your sister.”

“Well…” Pancho had to take a breath before she could repeat, “You can fire me, I guess.” She was surprised at what an effort
it was to say the words.

“Why would I do that?” Randolph sounded genuinely puzzled.

“'Cause I'm supposed to be spyin' on you.”

“That's all right. No need to panic, kid. Go ahead and spy all you want. I knew he'd plant a few spooks into Astro. I'm glad
you told me about it. I appreciate your honesty—and loyalty.”

“But—”

“No, no it's okay,” Randolph said, his tone almost bantering now. “You go ahead and report everything you're doing to him.
I'll even make it easier for you. I'll transfer you and Amanda to Selene. That's where the sonofabitch is living, isn't it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good,” Randolph said. “I ought to go there myself. It's a lot healthier there than here, that's for sure.”

“Healthier?”

“Climate controlled. Decontaminated air. I don't need filter plugs stuffed up my nose when I'm there.”

Before Pancho could ask why he needed filter plugs at all,
Randolph grasped her by the shoulder and turned her gently to look up into the darkening sky. A half-Moon rode among the scudding
clouds, the unwinking brilliant beacon light of Selene visible along its terminator between night and day.

“That's where you're going, kid. To Selene.”

Pancho wondered if Randolph was truly pleased with her confession, or if he was exiling her to the most remote spot he could
find.

P
ancho had no trouble getting through customs this time. The same inspector went through her bags perfunctorily, not even blinking
at the mice in their sealed plastic cage.

But he paid elaborate attention to Amanda. Pancho groused to herself as the inspector carefully went through Amanda's travel
bag, alternately grinning at Mandy and reddening as he saw her lacy underclothes.

He'd strip-search her if he could find the slightest excuse, Pancho thought, fuming.

Mandy simply stood on the other side of the table, looking wide-eyed and innocent while she kept up a constant nervous chatter.

“I don't know why they always go through my bag, Pancho. I really don't. You'd think that after all these times we've come
to Selene they would simply let me pass through without all this bother.”

“He went through my bag, too, Mandy,” Pancho replied.

“Yes, but he didn't paw through your underwear.”

Grinning with gritted teeth, Pancho said, “Yours are a lot purtier than mine.”

The inspector kept his head down as he searched diligently through Amanda's one piece of luggage, but Pancho could see the
back of his neck turn beet red.

“All the other passengers have already gone through,” Amanda noticed. “We're the last ones.”

“The rest of ‘em are either up here to start a long-term work contract or they're tourists. We come and go all the time, so
we could be smugglers.”

“Smugglers?' Amanda looked shocked. “Us?
Me?”

Pancho reached across the table and tapped the inspector on the shoulder. “Ain't that right? What're you looking for, dope
or contraband seeds or maybe illegal bottles of air?”

The inspector mumbled something incomprehensible.

At last he finished and pushed the bag back across the table toward Amanda.

“There you go, Ms. Cunningham. Sorry to have delayed you. I'm just doing my job, miss.”

Amanda thanked him politely as she zipped her bag shut and hefted it to her shoulder. Pancho saw that the inspector couldn't
help but stare at Mandy's expansive chest. Even in a standard-issue flight suit she looked sexy.

Visibly working up his courage, the inspector said, “Um… Ms. Cunningham… could I take you out to dinner some time while you're
here?” He made a sweaty smile. ‘To, uh, make up for inconveniencing you and all.”

Mandy smiled sweetly at him. “Why, that would be lovely. Call me, won't you?”

“I sure will!”

Pancho seethed as the two of them left the customs station and headed for one of the electric carts that carried new arrivals
through the tunnel from the spaceport into the underground city. He asked me to dinner when I was alone, but
with bimbo boobs here he never even saw me. I could've carried the Eiffel Tower up here and he wouldn't have noticed.

The message light was blinking on their phone by the time they got to the quarters they were sharing. When Pancho had first
come to work for Astro Manufacturing, six years earlier, pilots still got private quarters when they worked on the Moon. Not
any more. The rumor back at La Guaira was that Randolph was going to rent a dormitory area for the spacecraft pilots and crews.

Why not just fire all of us? Pancho wondered. If Randolph had any real sense he'd talk the IAA into getting rid of their stupid
regulations about keeping human crews aboard the ships.

Yeah, fine, she answered herself. Then what do you do? Get a job as a mission controller? Fat chance!

As soon as they opened the door to their quarters and saw the phone blinking on the nightstand between their two beds, Amanda
dropped her bag on the floor; it landed with a gentle lunar thump as Mandy stretched out on the bed and put the handset to
her ear.

With a surprised look on her face, Mandy held the phone out to Pancho. “It's for you,” she said, as if she didn't really believe
it.