ANITA HALLECK
Dutifully, Carter McClintock shuffled down the narrow, low-ceilinged corridor to Farside’s reception area, out at the end of the underground facility’s central tunnel. He wore the best of the three suits he had brought with him to the Moon: midnight blue jacket and trousers over an off-white turtleneck shirt. He took special pains to scuff along in the apelike shamble that substituted for normal walking in the one-sixth gravity of the Moon. He had no intention of stumbling and embarrassing himself in front of Anita Halleck.
Maybe the lobber will crash on landing, he thought. Then Father would finally be rid of her.
But it was too much to hope for. As McClintock sat nervously in the tight little reception chamber, he watched the wall-screen display of the incoming spacecraft falling out of the starry sky like a squat, cone-shaped rock. Then its rocket engines flashed, stuttering, and its descent slowed. It landed squarely on the blast-darkened concrete pad out there on the floor of Mare Moscoviense, all in complete, utter silence.
McClintock got to his feet as the access tube trundled like an oversized caterpillar from the airlock of the reception center to the main hatch of the lobber. The lone clerk got up from behind his desk, checked the readout lights on the control panel set into the stone wall beside the heavy metal hatch, then tapped a square green key set into its bottom row. The hatch sighed open and swung slowly inward.
Peering down the access tube, McClintock saw that only one person was approaching: Anita Halleck, tall and slim, with a long sweep of chestnut hair draped dramatically over one shoulder. She was wearing a one-piece coverall of metallic golden fabric that seemed to glow slightly as she made her way up the slightly flexing tube. She’s the only passenger, he realized. She commandeered a lobber flight just for herself.
He made himself smile for her. “Good to see you again, Anita,” he said, stretching a hand in greeting.
She smiled minimally as she stepped through the hatchway and accepted his hand gracefully.
“Hello, Carter,” she said. “How’s your father?”
She is a bitch, McClintock said to himself. Aloud, he replied, “Still pretty sore about you, I’m afraid.”
She shrugged. “The course of true love ne’er did run smooth.”
Or false love, either, he added silently.
“I was rather surprised to learn you were here,” said Anita Halleck. “I didn’t realize you were interested in astronomy.”
“I’m here to help Professor Uhlrich, sort of an aide to him.”
She nodded knowingly. “So your father is going to invest in Uhlrich’s project, then?”
McClintock replied casually, “Perhaps. We’ll see.”
She turned her attention to the clerk, who had slid back behind his desk; he took the data chip Halleck handed him and snapped it into his desktop computer.
Within a few minutes McClintock was leading Anita Halleck down the gloomy corridor toward the cell that would be her quarters during her visit.
“I had expected Professor Uhlrich to greet me,” she said. “Not his underling.”
Ignoring the barb, McClintock replied, “He’ll see you in his office, of course. He thought you’d like to get settled and perhaps freshen up a bit first.”
“I see.”
She was a handsome woman, McClintock realized all over again as they strode along the corridor. Almost his own height, slim waisted and long legged. Her gold-glowing coverall was modest enough, buttoned at the throat, wrists, and ankles. It wasn’t tight, exactly, but somehow it displayed the supple body inside it quite provocatively. Admiring those cheekbones and almond eyes and those pouty lips, McClintock thought she could easily have been a fashion model. Or a vid star. With a toss of her head she swung her long straight hair off her shoulder. It fell halfway down her back.
Yes, he said to himself, it’s no wonder that Father went off the deep end over her.
“I’m afraid the accommodations here are rather spartan,” McClintock said apologetically.
“I’ll only be here overnight,” she said. Her voice was low, warmly melodious. Inviting? McClintock asked himself. She can be damnably seductive when she wants to be.
He showed her the room that had been assigned to her. She took it in with a single brief glance.
Turning back to McClintock, she said, “I presume my bag will be brought here.”
“Of course.”
“All right then. I want to see Professor Uhlrich now.”
“Of course,” McClintock repeated.
* * *
The meeting fascinated McClintock. Uhlrich was stiffly formal with her, never budging from behind his desk. McClintock thought the professor used the desk as a barricade, to protect himself. Even when he stood he kept his fingertips in contact with the desk’s gleaming surface. For her part, Halleck sat gracefully on a chair halfway down the adjoining table, swiveling it to face the professor. She never allowed herself to get close enough to shake hands with him.
After politely holding her chair for her, McClintock took the seat next to her, one place farther away from Uhlrich.
“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Halleck,” said Uhlrich, with all the sincerity of a headwaiter.
“I’m delighted to be here,” she replied, equally hollow.
Brushing a fingertip along his trim silver beard, Uhlrich said, “I was very sorry to learn of your husband’s death.”
She made a sigh. “He was very old, very frail. It was something of a blessing.”
McClintock recalled that she had inherited a massive fortune from the man she had jilted his father for. A blessing indeed, he thought.
Uhlrich called, “Computer: orientation slideshow, please.”
Images of the three craters where the telescopes would be sited sprang up on the wall screen opposite the chairs where Halleck and McClintock were sitting.
Uhlrich began, “As you know—”
“Yes, I do know,” Halleck interrupted. “You can spare me the orientation, Professor. What I’d like is a progress report.”
“Progress report?” Uhlrich asked stiffly.
“I understand your first mirror was damaged before you could get it to its site.”
His face paling visibly, Uhlrich admitted, “Yes, that is true.”
“So what are you doing about it?”
McClintock saw a blue vein in the professor’s forehead begin to throb. This is going to be a lovely meeting, he told himself. Just perfectly lovely.