Avengers of the Moon by Allen Steele

Author:Allen Steele
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

II

A little less than an hour later, the Leigh Brackett gently coasted within range of the photonic laser thruster positioned at L-1 between Earth and the Sun. Powered by sunlight focused through an immense lens one and a half miles in diameter, a stream of photons shot forward like bullets of light, striking the mirror-bright surface of the beamship’s seven hundred–foot polymer sail. Slowly at first, then gradually moving faster, the Brackett began to sail forth into interplanetary space, leaving Earth and the Moon behind as it let out on the long, shallow arc of its trajectory to Mars.

Inside the Comet, its passengers felt the slow yet persistent return of gravity as the beamship entered the outbound thrust phase of its journey. There was no need to strap in again, yet everyone was cautious about planting their feet against the deck as the ship caught the photon beam, lest they find themselves falling—albeit in slow motion—to the floor. The only person aboard who didn’t have any difficulty was Simon; he continued to move about as freely as ever, his impellors whirring softly. But while Eek seemed to like having his paws on a stable surface again, the little dog was vexed to discover that he couldn’t follow Grag from deck to deck as he’d learned to do in freefall.

“I don’t see why you had to bring him along.” Otho scowled at the moonpup as he lounged at the dining table in the middeck wardroom. The Brackett had broken lunar orbit several hours earlier, and now the Comet’s crew was relaxing after a pasta dinner Grag had prepared in the galley. “He’s just going to get in the way.”

Grag bent over to place a small bowl of freeze-dried kibble in front of Eek. The dog’s tail happily wagged as he devoured his food, a parting gift from his former owners. “If I had left him behind, the two men chasing him might have put him out through the airlock,” the robot said, kneeling beside its pet to stroke his fur with surprising tenderness. “And we didn’t have time to return to Tycho. Besides, there would be no one there to take care of him while we’re gone.”

“Really,” Joan said. “How interesting.”

Otho closed his eyes. Although she already knew, from what Curt had told President Carthew, that they secretly resided beneath the ruins of Roger and Elaine Newton’s lab, she was still unaware of a number of details, such as exactly how many people lived there. Grag had let this little piece of information slip. It might be trivial, but a sharp IPF inspector like Joan Randall might find anything useful, no matter how inconsequential it might seem.

She seemed to sense Otho’s unease, because she put down her coffee mug and gazed at him from across the table. “Oh, c’mon. I already get that it’s just the three of you—”

“The four of us. You’re leaving out someone.” He didn’t have to ask whom she was neglecting; Joan apparently considered Simon to be less human than him or even Grag.

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