Hazel did not move on with us, but (following instructions) I always had something ahead to point to and to ask a silly question about, whenever our guide seemed about to have a free moment to look around. But when, at long last, we had made the full circle and were back at the lounge. Hazel was there ahead of us.
I kept quiet until we were out of the Complex and waiting at the tube station. There I moved us out of earshot of others before I spoke. "How did it go?"
"No trouble. The lock on that door was a type I've dealt with before. Thanks for keeping them all distracted while I coped with it. Good show, love!"
"You got what you were after?"
"I think so. I'll know more after Papa Mannie looks over my photographs. It's just a big lonely room, Richard, crowded with old-fashioned electronics equipment. I shot it from about twenty angles, and stereoed each shot by hand-held offset- not perfect but I've practiced it."
"That's all? This visit?"
"Yes. Well, mostly."
Her voice was choked; I looked at her, saw that her eyes were filled with tears about to overflow. "Why, darling! What's the matter?"
"N- n- nothing."
"Tell me."
"Richard, he's in there!"
"Huh?"
"He's asleep in there. I know, I could feel him. Adam Selene."
The tube capsule slammed into the station about then, to my relief-there are subjects for which words are useless. The capsule was packed full; we could not talk en route. By the time we were back in L-City my darling had quieted down and I could avoid the subject. The crowds in the corridors made talk difficult anyhow. Luna City is crowded at any time; on Saturdays half the Loonies from other warrens come in to shop; this Saturday the usual weekend crowd was augmented by Shriners and their wives from all over North America and elsewhere.
As we came down out of Tube Station West into pressure two at outer ring, we faced Sears Montgomery. I was about to swing left to the Causeway when Hazel stopped me. "Uh? What, dear?"
"Your trousers."
"Is my fly open? No, it's not."
"We're going to cremate your trousers; it's too late for burial. And that shirtjacket."
"I thought you were itchy to get to the Raffles?"
"I am but it will take me only five minutes to put you into a new siren suit."
(Reasonable. My trousers were so dirty that I was beginning to risk being cited as a menace to public health. And Hazel did know what I preferred for everyday clothing, as I had explained to her that I would not wear shorts even if every other adult male in Luna City was in shorts-as most of them were. I'm not morbidly self-conscious about my missing foot ... but I do want full-length trousers to conceal my prosthesis. It's my private problem; I do not choose to exhibit it.)
"All right." I agreed. "But let's buy the one nearest the door."
Hazel did get us in and out in ten minutes, buying me three two-piece rumpus suits all alike save for color. The price was right, as first she dickered it down to an acceptable amount, then rolled double or nothing, and won. She thanked the clerk and tipped him the price of a drink, then exited looking cheerful.
She said to me, "You look smart, dear."
I thought so, too. Those three suits were lime green, powder pink, and lavender. I had chosen to wear the lavender; I think it suits my complexion. I went strutting along, swinging my cane, with my best girl on my arm, feeling great.
But when we turned onto the Causeway there was no room to swing a cane and barely room to walk. We backed out, dropped straight down to Bottom Alley, then across town and up Five Aces chain lift to pressure six-much farther but today much faster.
Even the side tunnel to the Raffles was crowded. A cluster of fez-topped men were just outside our hotel. I glanced at one of them, then took a better look. I let him have it with my cane, reverse moulinet up into his crotch. At the same time or a split second ahead of me. Hazel threw her package (my suits) into the face of the man next to him and slugged one beyond him with her handbag. He went down as my man screamed and joined him. As my cane swung back, I took it with both hands horizontally, and used the sideways short jabs intended for moving through a rioting crowd-but used the jabs more personally, getting one man in the belly, another in a kidney, and kicking each to quiet him as he went down.
Hazel had taken care of the man she had slowed up with the package, I did not see how. But he was down and not moving. A (sixth?) man was about to cool her with a cosh, so I stabbed him in the face with my cane. He grabbed at it; I moved forward with it to keep him from exposing the stiletto, while giving him three fingers to his solar plexus, lefthanded. I fell on top of him.
And was picked up and carried into the Raffles at a trot, with my head down and dragging my cane after me.
The next few seconds I had to sort out later, perhaps imperfectly. I did not see Gretchen standing at the registration desk, but she was there, having just arrived. I heard Hazel snap, "Gretchen! Room L, straight back on the right!" as she dumped me on Gretchen. On Luna I weigh thirteen kilos, give or take a few grams-not much load for a country girl used to hard work. But I'm much bigger than Gretchen and twice as big as Hazel-a big unwieldy bundle. I squawked to be put down; Gretchen paid no attention. That silly desk clerk was yelping but no one was paying attention to him, either.
Our door opened as Gretchen reached it and I heard another familiar voice sing out, "Bojemoi! He's hurt." Then I was face up on my own bed and Xia was working on me.
"I'm not hurt," I told her. "Just shaken up."
"Yeah, sure. Hold still while I get your trousers off. Does one of you gentlemen have a knife?"
I was about to tell her not to cut my new trousers, when I heard a shot. It was my bride, crouching inside the open doorway and peering cautiously out to the left, her head close to the floor. She fired again, scooted back inside, closed and locked the door.
She glanced around and snapped, "Move Richard into the 'fresher. Pile the bed and everything else against the outer door;
they'll be shooting or breaking it down or both." She sat down on the floor with her back toward me and paid no attention to anyone. But everyone jumped to carry out her orders.
"Everyone" included Gretchen, Xia, Choy-Mu, Father Schultz, and Reb Ezra. I did not have time to be astonished, especially as Xia with Gretchen's help moved me into the refresher, put me on the floor, and resumed taking my pants off. What did astonish me was to find that my good leg, the one with a meat-and-bone foot on it, was bleeding heavily. I noticed it first from seeing that Gretchen had big blood stains on the left shoulder of her white coverall. Then I saw where the blood was coming from, whereupon that leg started to hurt.
I don't like blood, especially mine. So I turned my face away and looked out the 'fresher door. Hazel was still sitting on the floor and had taken something out of her handbag that seemed to be bigger than the handbag. She was talking into it:
'Tee Aitch Queue! Major Lipschitz calling Tee Aitch Queue! Answer roe. God damn it! Wake up! Mayday, may day! Hey, Rube!"
XX
"If anyone doubts my veracity, I can only say that I pity his lack of faith."
BARON MUNCHAUSEN 1737-1794
Xia added, "Gretchen, hand me a clean towel. We'll make do just with a pressure pack until later."
"Ouch!"
"Sorry, Richard."
"Mayday, Mayday! Hail, Mary, I'm up the crick without a paddle! Answer me!"
"We read you. Major Lipschitz. Report local fix, planet, system, and universe." It was a machine voice with a typical uninflected brassiness that sets my teeth on edge.
"Now let's tape it tightly."
"Hell with procedures! I need T-shift pickup and I need it now! Check my assignment and slam it! Switch point: 'One small step' by Armstrong. Local fix: Hotel Raffles, room L. Time tick, now!"