Tranquility's Heirs

Part Two

Their space shuttle has crashed on the Moon

This science fiction novel was originally written many decades ago so let's be generous. It is the prequel to Tranquility Besieged where Grey and Kris meet for the first time. There is very little sex and only minor nudity, so it can't be described as erotic. But it is a love story that builds over time. All characters are over 18 years old. All rights reserved by the author.

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Chapter 2

THE SENTINEL

Mike and Kris emerged from New Ranger's upper airlock and climbed down the side of the tilted shuttle. Of the five crew members, they were the only two who had never before been on the moon, so they moved cautiously, testing the restrictions of their walkers.

"Damn," Mike said as he bounced in the powdery lunar soil and watched the dust settle strangely in the vacuum. "You know, I didn't think this would be any big deal. First moonwalk and all. But now that we're here... Well, you know."

He turned to look for Kris but saw she was already bouncing up the hill toward the colony, casually drawing her sidearm as she reached the crest.

"Hey, slow down!" he called out as he bounded after her, finding the steep climb much easier than expected. Kris paused next to a large solar collector.

"We're just outside the perimeter," she said, pointing at the darkened ground stations spreading out in both directions. She scanned the area with her tactical sensors before holstering her sidearm. "Even though the laser batteries are inactive, these solar panels are still functioning."

"We landed in a good spot," Mike observed. "The fort on the ridge can't fire down on us without going through this mound. How far do you figure to those landing bays? Two kilometers?"

"Sounds about right," Kris agreed. "Shouldn't take more than a couple minutes." She moved rapidly, taking advantage of the weak gravity to sustain momentum.

"Quit showing off," Mike complained, skipping awkwardly to keep pace.

"You should 'of taken the training course, half-bird," Kris laughed.

"Yeah, right. Off-planet combat techniques 101. Just what every pilot needs."

They bounced down the opposite side of the hill, crossed a shallow flat, and started up a long series of gradually ascending slopes toward the eastern foothills. At the edge of the plain, they encountered an emergency landing platform and scrambled up to get their first clear view of the colony. There, on the near horizon, overshadowed by the towering rock wall of Tranquility Ridge, they saw a dozen surface structures grouped around a small knoll at the base of the cliff, the structures dominated by the gleaming twin spired White Towers. Below the knoll were garage entrances and equipment depots, and in a shallow valley nearby, they saw two large platforms providing access to the underground landing bays. Twisted wreckage from the partially destroyed control tower lay toppled down the far slope.

"Quite a place," Kris said, her heart beating quicker.

"Just another ghost town, if you ask me. No different than a hundred others we saw in Africa," Mike replied, refusing to share her enthusiasm.

Mike heard Kris grow silent over the intercom.

"Sorry. Shouldn't have said that," he apologized. "Let's see if we can get in the smaller bay. That one to the right."

She nodded and they started down into the valley, Kris taking out her scanner and moving cautiously.

The main airlock to landing bay minor refused to respond, the control system inactive. The secondary entrance was blocked, the pedestrian airlock buried under a piece of the control tower. They walked up the hill and tried entering through the garage access portal, but the heavy doors were stoutly locked, as were several smaller maintenance entrances.

"Fuck! I hope they all aren't like this. I'd hate to blast one of 'em just to get in," Mike complained.

"That won't be necessary. Let's try the landing bay again, these doors are mostly for tractors," Kris said.

"Surprised we haven't bumped into nothin' yet. Nightwatchers or security units," Mike said, continuing to scan as they moved back down the slope.

"Maybe the same barriers keeping us out are keeping the securatrons in?" Kris speculated.

Mike nodded and they returned to the landing bays, finding the pedestrian airlock of landing bay major. Parts of the destroyed flight control tower lay in this area, too, but the pieces were not as large.

"If this debris isn't too heavy, I bet we can work our way in through there," Kris said, pointing into a dark niche.

Mike crouched down, pushed aside a shattered piece of retaining wall, and found an entrance only a few meters away. The emergency entry display appeared active.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Let's do it," Mike answered. "Grab that beam for a lever. We'll lift this chunk of wall and stick a brace underneath. If the airlock's functional, we'll widen the path for the others on our way out."

Mike levered the beam while Kris braced the wreckage sufficiently to reach the recessed entrance. Their primaries were beginning to run low when Mike and Kris finally pushed forward into the small alcove and activated the airlock, but for a moment, there was no response. Then a blinking yellow light indicated activity.

"Glad this ain't no emergency. We'd be dead as Damascus by now," Mike said.

A minute later, the heavily reinforced hatch slid open to reveal a poorly lit cubicle.

"Ladies first," Mike offered.

"I wouldn't dream of usurping your authority, Commander," Kris replied, stepping aside to let him pass.

"Well, here we go," he said without moving.

"Right behind you," she answered, standing perfectly still.

Mike sucked a deep breath of warm, stuffy air and reluctantly stepped forward, ducking unnecessarily as he entered the small airlock. Touching her sidearm for reassurance, Kris followed. The door gradually closed behind them.

The airlock was dark and noiseless, no safety lighting, not even indicators to show if pressurization was occurring. Kris activated her chest lamp and looked at the instrumentation, but the environmental monitors appeared inactive. She probed the control panel, checked each system one at a time, and found the environmental override generating a weak response. She activated the switch and stepped back.

"Give it plenty of time. I'd rather get inside with the airlock intact," Mike advised.

Five minutes later, when their environment support systems approached alert status, they went to auxiliary battery power and checked their reserves.

"Guess we'll have to cut the lock after all. My walker's only got forty minutes left," Mike said.

"We'd better reopen the outer hatch then," Kris advised. "Sudden pressurization in such a small place could be dangerous."

"You're right, I hadn't thought of that," Mike agreed, turning to pull on the door lever. But the mechanism had frozen.

"It won't open! Kris, it won't open!" he exclaimed. "Goddamn! It's a trap! We're trapped!"

Kris rushed to add her weight to the lever, but the bar wouldn't budge. A second effort with both of them working together also failed.

"We could rot in here!" Mike said.

"Let's take another look at the entry panel," Kris suggested, turning her lamp back on the dimly lit display. "I'll bet we can manipulate the controls directly."

She used a demagnifier from her tool pouch to take off the panel cover, then probed the energy modulator. Before she had finished her preliminary examination, the emergency pressurization mode activated. A noticeable change soon proved the pressurization cycle was complete and the inner door opened with a crisp suddenness.

"Good work, Kris," Mike said.

"But I didn't do anything? It activated by itself," she answered.

They entered a second, somewhat larger airlock that was no less bleak than the first. The hatch closed instantly behind them.

"Jesus, not again," Mike said, when they found themselves once more blanketed in darkness.

"I guess so. Let's hope this one doesn't give us so much trouble," Kris answered.

It did. A full ten minutes later, after Kris had virtually dismantled the inner lock mechanism, the door finally activated. They found a third airlock inside.

"This one's locked, too," Kris quickly reported.

"Damn it!" Mike said. "If someone's fucking with us, I'll break his--"

Before Mike finished his threat, the final door activated, opening onto a darkened walkway with a cavernous open space in the gloom beyond.

"Careful, Kris. I don't like this," Mike said, starting to go first.

Kris drew her sidearm, a Marsden heavy-force energy blaster, and brushed past him, emerging out on a wide walkway overlooking the landing bay hanger. With only their chest lamps for light, visibility was too limited for a thorough appraisal, but the bay appeared immense. And completely deserted.

"Whew," Mike said, his spirits improving. "For awhile there I wondered if we'd ever make it in."

"I'm surprised it took so long," Kris said. "This equipment's in pretty good shape. I didn't notice any unusual wear or deterioration. Circuitry even looked recently serviced."

"Our check-in's overdue," Mike said, switching to a stronger band. "Guess we better tell 'em we got inside. Zopek to New Ranger. Zopek to New Ranger. Val? Hey, Val, are you receiving?"

There was no response, not even static.

"We should have anticipated this," Kris said. "The bay walls are too heavily shielded for our intercoms. Necessary to block radiation."

"Let's look around. Maybe find access to an outside dish."

"Should we open our faceplates?" Kris suggested.

"Not yet. Let's see what we're up against first," Mike said. "Don't want gettin' poisoned now."

He walked to the railing and tried to survey the floor area with his lamp, but the beam wasn't strong enough to search out many of the large hanger's shadowed crevices.

"Try following the walkway to the right," Mike ordered. "I'll go left and meet you around on the other side. Look for a light switch or power station."

"Got'cha, boss," Kris answered.

"And Kris? Be careful. This place is spookier than a studio tour."

"A what?" she said. "Oh, sure. You be careful, too."

Mike turned his lamp on her, and though it was difficult to see her face through the mirrored visor, instinctively felt something was wrong.

"You alright? It's not like you to drift on me."

"A-okay," she calmly insisted, gazing at the murky images visible in her searchlight. "It's just... Hell, I don't know. There's a strange feeling here. A mysterious... something."

Mike stepped closer until he was sure she had him on visual. "Maybe we shouldn't split up?" he suggested.

"Listen up, half-bird," Kris said, turning and stabbing him in the chest with her fore-finger. "I'm long past needing your apron strings! Long past!"

"Okay, okay, don't fire up," he said, pushing the jabbing appendage aside. "Just watch yourself. This isn't some Gothic romance."

He stepped back, tried to detect an expression on her face, then bounced slowly toward the north side of the landing bay, probing the off-shoot corridors for a communications room.

Pleased to finally be alone, Kris stood at the railing to survey the quiet floor area, feeling more alive than she had in years. She understood how Mike felt about the mission, the danger and foolishness of it, but somehow that didn't seem to matter. Tranquility. After all the years. All the stories.

Kris bounced along the wide southside walkway in easy hops, taking time to scan the walls for light switches. Everything she saw, regardless of how trivial, became remarkable and interesting. The ramps and walls were solidly structured like an underground fortress, built to withstand the heaviest impact. Then she remembered Khartoum and halted, angry at herself.

Why? she wondered in frustration. It's been three years already. Three years. Why can't I put it aside?

Suddenly a gloomy figure emerged from the shadows up ahead. Kris focused her lamp on the shiny image of a stoutly built robot. At least, it looked like a robot. Some sort of constructor with humanoid streamlines that couldn't disguise an inherent bulkiness. But bulky or not, the strange apparition accelerated quickly and with so little effort that she was taken by surprise.

Kris slowly drew her sidearm, but as the thing came steadily closer, her fear mixed with curiosity. She instinctively raised her weapon to the ready position but wasn't trigger happy. When the robot came to a halt at an acceptable distance, she put the blaster back in her holster.

"Who are you?" Kris asked.

The robot stepped forward into her lamp, the beam reflecting off the surface in a shower of tracers so bright Kris had to drop her sunshade.

"Who are you?" she asked again.

The stranger remained motionless. No movement at all. Kris had a feeling she was being scanned and boosted her battery power, hoping a stronger transmission beam would help. The result was static.

Curse this interference! she thought. Then the robot reached up, tapped its head, and pointed to the control on her visor.

"You want me to open my faceplate?" she asked. It seemed to nod.

Hesitantly at first, Kris raised her hands, found the sequence plates, and opened the visor. The air was good. Musty, but good. And the ventilation felt great, the heat of the suit giving way to a cool draft. She turned her lamp down so the beam wouldn't reflect back and found she could see the robot more clearly. And was it something to see! Heavily encased legs, a barreled body, and a short, squat domed head nearly buried into the shoulders. Obviously a prototype, the form was unlike anything she'd seen since the Future Show when she was a little girl. The robot's smooth surface emitted energy as well as reflecting it.

"Can you hear me now? Who are you?" Kris asked.

"A computer," the construct said, the voice coldly interpreted through an unseen speaker.

"You don't look like any computer I've ever seen," she said. "More like a constructor. Or a sentinel."

"Sentinel will suffice," it said.

The sentinel paused strangely. Kris had a distinct feeling of being studied. Stared at. The sensation was a unnerving.

"You are trespassing a declared military district," the sentinel eventually continued. "Leave immediately. Go back where you came from."

"Our shuttle crashed. We can't leave," Kris explained.

Is it my imagination, Kris wondered, or does it seem concerned?

"We have an injured person in our party," she added, oddly out of breath. "We need help."

"This unit apologizes for damage to your craft. Is the human seriously damaged?"

"I don't know what her condition is," Kris admitted. "But we can't care for her in our ship."

"Is the damaged human McKinsey or Fairfield?" the sentinel asked, much to her astonishment. Kris quickly tried to figure how it knew their names, then realized they couldn't be much of a secret. Every media group on Earth knew the crew of New Ranger.

"Doctor McKinsey," she answered.

The sentinel straightened stiffly, leaned backward, then corrected to a slightly forward leaning position, as if compensating for a damaged part. A malfunction? Kris wondered.

"This unit is willing to negotiate," the sentinel said.

"What do you want?"

Kris felt her heart beat faster as she waited for the robot to answer, almost embarrassed by a sudden flush. Then she noticed with concern when the sentinel wobbled again, the balance tenuous.

"Your party..." the sentinel whispered, "will be given access to the landing bays. Facilities to repair your shuttle will be provided. Upon completion of the repair work, you will return to Earth."

"And the alternative?" Kris asked.

"Your expedition will be destroyed."

"Like the other expeditions?"

"Affirmative," the sentinel replied.

Kris decided she could get huffy, too, standing straight with her chin out. "I'm not authorized to negotiate. May I discuss the terms of our surrender with other members of my party?" she said.

"As you prefer. This unit does not wish to be unreasonable."

Kris liked the way the sentinel said that. She softened her stance and tried to reappraise the situation. Suddenly, from somewhere behind them, a hovering beam of light appeared.

"That must be Colonel Zopek," Kris warned.

When Mike's lamp caught the two figures in center beam, he slowed with sudden caution, drawing his Marsden.

"Mike!" Kris called out.

As the sentinel turned toward the approaching human, a bright flash glanced off its surface into Kris's unprotected eyes, causing her to stagger backward and nearly lose balance. The sentinel, moving with unexpected agility, took hold of her arm to restore equilibrium.

"Kris!" Mike yelled. "Kris! Move away! I'll cover you!"

Mike raised his weapon. Kris regained her balance and promptly tried to thrust herself into the line of fire, but the sentinel reacted more forcibly, pulling her back and activating a fierce protective energy screen. Startled, Mike fired point blank.

"Mike! Goddamn it, don't do that!" Kris yelled, her transmission washed out by static.

But Mike had already seen his error. After a brief, showy burst of dispersing hot energy, the sentinel straightened up undamaged and turned toward him. The blast had been deflected by the energy field.

When Kris moved away unharmed, Mike quickly holstered his sidearm, holding out his empty hands. The sentinel watched carefully for a moment, then let the intensity of the energy screen slacken. Kris found it easier to see again once the bright glare was gone.

"This unit anticipates your response," the sentinel said to Kris.

Before she could reply, the sentinel turned for a disdainful glance at Mike, then bounced away into the darkness.

"What the hell was that?" Mike asked, rushing up to Kris and popping open his visor.

"I don't know," she answered. "I really don't. But it was kind of cute."

"Cute?" Mike laughed uneasily. "Doll, it has been too long for you."

Kris whirled on him and Mike was sure he'd overstepped the boundary of decorum once again, but she wasn't angry.

"Let's get back to the ship. I've got an important message to deliver," Kris said eagerly.

____________

The return journey didn't take long with the previous obstacles removed and most of the trek going downhill, but seemed longer because of the silence. Kris seemed off in a world of her own and neither of them were inclined to discuss the confrontation with their mysterious host. When they reached the shuttle, Mike quickly scampered up the side, dropped into the upper airlock, and anxiously waited for Kris. She followed so casually he almost yelled at her.

"They're back, Doctor McKinsey. They're entering the airlock now," Vandebrown said, poking his head through the bridge doorway.

"Thank God," Valerie said with relief.

"Indeed. Is our equipment ready to move?" McKinsey asked.

"Everything on the list is stacked near the airlock," Valerie replied.

She knelt next to her godmother and reached into her medical pouch for a packet of green capsules. McKinsey tried to stare her down, but Valerie just smiled and broke one open with a well-practiced twist of her fingers, holding the fumes under McKinsey's nostrils. McKinsey took a quick breath and started to turn away, but Valerie gripped the old woman's forehead and made sure she inhaled the full dose.

"While we're on the surface, I'm increasing the oxygen ratio in your walker," Valerie scolded.

"Do whatever you wish, just stop hovering over me like a blasted angel of mercy!" McKinsey snapped, wiping her nose and eyes with a handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Laureen," Valerie said in a hurt voice, looking down as she pretended to reorganize her medical bag.

"Oh, I apologize, dear," McKinsey sighed, lifting Valerie's chin. "You know what I mean."

A clanging from the outer compartment announced the entry of Mike and Kris, the clump of their heavy boots vibrating throughout the ship. A moment later, they ducked inside the bridge doorway still dressed in their walkers, elbowing each other for room in the cramped space. Valerie jumped up as Mike approached, giving him a clumsy peck on the cheek.

"Enjoy your first moonwalk, honey?" Valerie asked.

"A regular day at the beach," he said.

Valerie turned to Kris with the same question, expecting her sister's usual somber reply, but much to her surprise, Kris seemed in a subtle state of excitement. Valerie was instantly curious. McKinsey had business to discuss.

"Michael? Your report?" McKinsey said.

"Well, Doc, it's kind of a mess out there," he said, taking off his heavy gauntlets. "Control tower's half knocked down. We cleared a path to the larger bay and finally got inside. There's heat and air, but we couldn't find the light switches or a com station. We were still searching when this thing showed up."

"Thing?" McKinsey interrupted. "Would you please be more specific?"

"Well, I guess it was some sort of mechanical nightwatchman. Sort of a robot. Actually, Kris got a closer look at it than I did."

Everyone turned to Kris, McKinsey noticing the odd mood that had come over their flight specialist.

"Captain?" McKinsey asked.

Kris looked up in surprise, then quickly gathered herself.

"We met a robotic sentinel who's guarding the base. At first it ordered us to leave, but when I said you were injured, it offered to let us repair the ship. Provided we leave afterward. It wants our answer soon."

"What did this sentinel look like?" McKinsey asked, resting back and scrunching her eyebrows.

"It's humanoid in shape, stocky, with a huge chest and almost no head. Sometimes it moved slowly, at other times amazingly fast."

"A real shit-kicker!" Mike added. "I shot it point blank with a five-point charge and didn't even raise a spot. Just shrugged off the beam like a tennis ball."

"Five-points and no scorch mark? I'd sure like to see that," Vandebrown said, leaning casually against the door frame.

"The sentinel attacked you?" McKinsey asked in surprise.

"Well, not exactly attacked," Mike confessed. "The bay was dark and I thought ... it seemed..."

"Mike thought I was in danger," Kris explained. "It was a little scary looking. The sentinel was cold and shiny until its energy bands lit up, and then whoosh! It was like a Christmas tree! Bright energy rings swirling around. A lot like the magnetic fields used to contain drive cores back home. The sentinel wanted to appear threatening, but it conveyed... I'm not sure how to describe it. Something unspoken. It did apologize for shooting down our shuttle, and it offered us the landing bay for repairs."

Kris displayed her excitement without embarrassment. For a moment. But when she noticed the curious expressions of her crewmates, she grew more reserved. "Even though it threatened to destroy us, I know it won't," she added.

"How do you know that, Captain?" Vandebrown asked, intrigued by the rare enthusiasm.

"Please hold your questions until later, Major," McKinsey scolded. "Colonel Zopek, do you feel we can force our way into the landing bay?"

"No chance. Not without that sentinel's permission. The sidearms we brought can't stop it, and we sure as hell can't wrestle with it. If not for Kris, it probably would've chunked me."

"Really? How delectable," McKinsey snickered. "Well, Kris, I suppose we must accept the terms of this creature of yours."

"Yes," Kris replied self-consciously. "I'll return with our answer right away."

Kris jumped up, clasped her collar, and started back toward the airlock pleased with herself despite the puzzled stares. As she passed, Mike began to seal his own walker.

"No, Michael, you stay here and help with the supplies," McKinsey said.

Vandebrown's face lit up and he jumped for his gear.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Major," McKinsey said, barely looking in his direction. "I'll need you here, also. Valerie will accompany Kris on this trek."

"But I know that landing bay better than anybody!" Vandebrown protested. "I shuttled in twice a month for two years!"

"And I grew up here!" Valerie interjected, no less anxious. "My father designed Tranquility. When I was a little girl, I visited here in the summers. I know every corner by heart."

"This isn't a good idea. It's too dangerous. How do we know what that thing is?" Mike said.

"I know exactly who he is!" McKinsey snapped. "Now obey your instructions!"

"He?" Vandebrown asked.

"I mean it, of course," McKinsey corrected. "The sentinel is a project my dear husband was working on before the revolt. I believe it will only prove dangerous if provoked."

"Then the sentinel is some sort of mobile computer?" Mike asked.

"It called itself a computer," Kris remembered.

"Certainly, one could say computerized," McKinsey replied after a moment of thought. "But hardly the kind we're accustomed to. Far more advanced. Remember, children, Thomas was a genius. When he set his mind to something, even death itself was unlikely to stop him. We should be cautious whenever we encounter this sentinel again, but take no action without instructions from me."

"If Kris says it's safe, that's good enough for me," Valerie said, entering the equipment compartment to suit up. Kris followed, leaving the bridge uncomfortably quiet.

"If there are no further questions, gentlemen, I suggest we prepare to move as soon as possible. I see no reason for delay," McKinsey said.

Mike and Vandebrown nodded.

Barely an hour later, Valerie and Kris emerged from the airlock into landing bay major. Their walkers were dusty despite an attempt to blow the powder off, the airlock retrieval system barely functioning. To Kris's amazement, the landing bay was now brightly lit. Valerie showed no surprise.

"Seems someone found the light switch," Valerie said, rolling her visor open and taking a breath of fresh air.

Kris opened her visor more slowly until satisfied the air was safe, then walked to the railing overlooking the floor area. The bay was huge! Much bigger than she expected. Kris looked for the sentinel, but in vain.

"Where's your boyfriend, dearie?" Valerie asked.

"The sentinel will return soon," Kris said, hiding her disappointment.

Kris noticed how much more impressive the landing bay seemed than most underground hangers, the struts and girders reinforced at every stress point. At one end, a giant airlock elevator was positioned to bring ships down from the surface. On the other side, two additional elevators provided access to the launch chutes. The service bays were large enough to service half a dozen shuttles simultaneously, and remarkably well maintained.

"Look! Repair procedures have already commenced!" Kris shouted.

Below them, in one of the maintenance pits, several robotic units were shuffling repair equipment, and on one of the northside lifts, two ground crew units were loading jacks and a mobile crane. On the far side of the bay they saw still another repair unit entering with a truck full of spare parts.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Valerie asked. "I haven't seen you this charged since..."

"Go ahead, say it," Kris said. She turned away, standing alone as she gazed out over the bay. Valerie tried to put a hand on her shoulder. Kris twisted away.

"People die in war," Valerie said. "Barrett knew his chances when he refused to abort the run. It's a miracle you weren't killed to."

"I should have stayed on his wing. Nothing can ever change that," Kris said.

"You stayed with him as long as you could. You know that. It wasn't your fault."

"You don't understand."

"Because I wasn't in combat like you and Mike?" Valerie said with a flair of anger. "What do you think I was doing in London Hospital during those years? I was the one treating their wounds. Listening to their stories. Holding their hands as they died. I understand more than you think, and I also know you can't let go unless you want to."

"The sentinel isn't here yet," Kris said. "Wait for the others, I'm going to scout around."

"Sure, honey. Don't wander off too far," Valerie said, pretending to sound cheerful. She flashed one of her most infectious smiles and even Kris couldn't help grinning a little. Valerie affected everyone that way. Always had.

As Kris moved around the south side of the bay looking for a ramp down to the floor area, Valerie leaned on the railing to admire the architecture with more than a little sentimentality. She had been but six years old, but still remembered those exciting days when the moon was a thriving colony full of scientists, engineers, technicians and tourists. She remembered visiting the project areas with her father, his jovial manner encouraging workers to fulfill his vision of a full-fledged city, the only facility on the moon to become more than an observatory or corporate mining outpost. Tranquility.

She remembered those final days also, the time of the evacuation, when she kissed her father good-bye for the last time. Valerie glanced down to the embarkation area where he had come to see her off, his big chubby smile reassuring everyone their separation would only be temporary. That they would be together again soon. Twenty years ago? Almost to the day.

Suddenly Valerie's recollections were disturbed by a small service robot carrying, of all things, pillows and bed linen.

"Why, hello there. Are you the sentinel?" Valerie teased the little machine.

The service unit beeped a negative response and rushed by, heading for the hospitality complex located between the two landing bays. Valerie laughed and followed, bouncing lightly along the walkway as she tried to recall the special techniques necessary for sure movement in the exhilarating gravity. She was amazed how quickly her childhood skills returned, though her adult figure still made some movements awkward.

Valerie reached the lobby and detoured into Kelly's, once the most notorious off-planet saloon in the solar system. The bar hadn't changed much, the long counter and cubbyhole eating areas still invoked images of industrial spies and mineral smugglers. The walls were decorated with romanticized pictures of famous aviators, and in the corner, she saw the upright piano where the pilots would sing their rowdy off-color songs. Ghosts were present, too, plain as day.

Valerie stepped behind the bar wondering what beverages might still be available and was surprised to find the coffee pot full. And warm! She poured a half cup, sniffed the murky liquid, and tasted slowly. The coffee, though freshly brewed, was bitter and stale.

"Good Lord," she whispered, putting the cup down.

She looked again at the decorations, smiled at the outdated breakfast special still posted on the menu board, and bounced back to the outer walkway looking for Kris, but her sister had disappeared into the equipment storage areas on the far side of the bay.

A few minutes later, somewhat sooner than she wished, Valerie heard a noise from the emergency airlock system and saw three dusty moonwalkers emerge. Mike quickly set down a pile of containers and opened his visor, looking cautiously in both directions.

"How ya doing, honey?" he said with a worried expression.

"Sparklin' clear, dear," she smiled.

"Anything new to report?" McKinsey asked, allowing Vandebrown to help open her visor.

"Just what you see," Valerie said, spreading her arms out toward the bay. "Lighting and power activated. Equipment shufflers are outfitting a lift for our shuttle, and a servicer is preparing rooms for us in the lodge."

"And what of our mysterious benefactor?" McKinsey asked.

"Haven't seen a sole," Valerie answered. "Kris is down in the bay poking around, and I saw a service unit, but otherwise it's been quiet."

"We shall not turn back now," McKinsey said, removing her helmet. "Our friend knows where to find us."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Mike said with a Louisiana drawl, making Valerie smile.

Vandebrown smiled, too, but with less assurance, glancing around the bay with one hand lightly held over his blaster.

"Mike, come look!" Valerie said, pulling him to the railing. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yeah, honey, it's great," he said.

Valerie squeezed his hand, but when he failed to respond, she whispered something in his ear that made him laugh, the sound echoing through the bay loudly enough to be embarrassing. Then he smiled as Valerie excitedly described each aspect of the landing bay in detail.

"Doctor McKinsey," Vandebrown called out, standing on a balcony extension overhanging the floor area. "The community access airlocks are sealed."

"Will wonders never cease?" McKinsey replied, wondering what Vandebrown had expected.

"Come here, people," McKinsey called out. "We must set up our command post, then make plans before settling into our quarters."

"We left a few cases on the surface, too," Vandebrown reminded her. "I'll go bring them in."

Vandebrown promptly closed his visor and dashed back to the airlock system, leaving much too eagerly and without permission. McKinsey was annoyed, though glad to be rid of him.

"Come, children," she said, leading the way toward the hospitality complex.

In the lobby, McKinsey found the admittance monitor offline. The pilot's quarters were to their left, a dozen small rooms designed for brief rest periods and overnight turnarounds. The recreation area, consisting of a pool table and several gaming machines, was off to the side. The recreation area also had a computer accessed reading room which she was tempted to explore, but when she reached the entrance to the saloon, McKinsey too, stopped to reminiscence. There was a particular booth, a small two-seater toward the rear. A tear nearly betrayed her.

"Coffee!" Mike shouted, dropping the bundles of supplies and charging toward the percolator.

"Hope you brought the packs from the ship," Valerie warned.

"What do you mean?" he asked, sucking a big mouthful.

"You'll see."

"Christ! I've been poisoned!" he spat.

Valerie and McKinsey laughed.

Vandebrown, returning with the overnight bags under his arms, saw the cup in Mike's hand and joined in the laughter.

"The food stuffs here are a trifle dated, Colonel," Vandebrown lectured. "They may retain some nutritional value, but they'll hardly prove conducive to a gourmet's palate."

Mike wasn't amused. He put the cup down, hopped over the bar, and ducked down to open a cabinet. He emerged victoriously.

"Guess I'll just have wine instead," he grinned.

"Shall we locate our quarters? I wish us to rest while we still have the opportunity," McKinsey suggested.

"Right down this hall," Vandebrown said, leading the way toward a brightly lit area full of storage lockers and com booths. One adjoining corridor led to the guest rooms, another to the administration office. Straight ahead was a conference area that McKinsey made her command post.

Just as they prepared to unsuit, a sound of rapid footsteps from the outside hall put them on alert. McKinsey turned her head, wondering if their mysterious host had arrived at last. Mike and Vandebrown reached for their sidearms. A moment later, Kris appeared in the doorway looking excited.

"All quiet, dear?" McKinsey asked, a twinkle in her eye.

"Quiet enough," Kris said, self-consciously discovering herself the center of attention.

"Well, we're home for the night," McKinsey announced. "And probably for the next few weeks. I suggest we shed these heavy costumes, get a little food from our stores, and allow the last forty-eight hours to catch up with us."

She unlatched her collar and let Valerie help her out of the thickly lined walker, enjoying the buoyant feeling of unweighted movement in the 1/6 gravity. The others quickly followed McKinsey's example, shedding their bulky suits and hanging them in the wide storage closets. Dressed only in their underwear, the visitors bounced around with joyful enthusiasm, and even McKinsey enjoyed a brief glimmer of forgotten youth.

Vandebrown, possessing the most adult experience with the tricky gravity, nevertheless needed time to relearn his techniques. It wasn't easy, not with the half-naked form of Valerie Fairfield bouncing next to him, her voluptuous body living up to its reputation, and the jealous eye of her husband just as near. The younger sister wasn't so bad to look at, either.

McKinsey and Kris found the gravity somewhat clumsy in the beginning, but their lighter body weight made them less vulnerable to the pitfalls of exaggerated movement. Only Mike, larger and more powerfully developed than the others, found the new environment difficult to cope with. For the first time in his life, his superior physique seemed to put him at a disadvantage.

"Please, everyone, come and sit," McKinsey said after they dressed in their lightweight flight suits.

They gathered around the conference table as McKinsey geared up to make a speech, her face bearing an expression they had seen many times. An expression she'd often used with effectiveness during her years in the Congress-In-Council. A true pragmatist, the inconsistency of leading a peace movement while profiting from defense contracts never bothered her.

"It's time we have a serious discussion," McKinsey began. "You know my intention in coming here is to reopen this colony, to begin anew the work my dear husband left unfinished. When Tom and his small band of patriots declared the moon an independent republic, they never meant for Tranquility to remain isolated forever. Tranquility can once again be a symbol of hope and unity. Despite the little setback encountered on our arrival, my goals haven't changed. Have yours?"

Valerie and Vandebrown smiled their enthusiasm while Mike grew impatient with McKinsey's theatrics. Kris wasn't sure how she felt.

"Good," McKinsey continued. "First of all, we must organize. We need information. I want Valerie to stop fussing over me and begin evaluating the environmental systems. I want to know what works, what doesn't, and why. Mike, Kris, you arrange for our shuttle to be brought inside. We promised to leave and must keep up appearances. Major Vandebrown, you prepare an analysis of the security arrangements, but please refrain from testing the access doors until we have a plan of action. We must know what we're up against before breaking our part of the truce."

McKinsey's cool declaration of intent seemed to disturb the younger members of her crew, especially Kris, but Vandebrown remained cheerful.

"We haven't given our word on anything yet," Vandebrown pointed out. "We haven't even seen this robot. I think our best option is to armor up and move against the Loop as soon as possible. I'll crawl down into the computer vault and pull the plug on the intellect blocks." He glanced around to see if the others agreed. "Taking out that nightwatchman won't prove difficult once the Security Computer is deactivated."

Mike nodded while McKinsey seemed to consider the plan. Kris jumped to her feet.

"You're wrong!" she protested. "We can negotiate for what we need. Our presence here proves that."

"Little sister might be right," Valerie said, taking hold of Kris's hand. "If marching down to the Loop is all that easy, how come the Columbus teams and Black Raven were never heard of again?"

"We don't know for sure that either crew actually made it inside, only that they landed," Vandebrown said. "The Loop might be ours for the taking."

"Maybe we should check it out?" Mike suggested. "If the security system is down, a quick strike could be our best option."

"We haven't even been here an hour yet and you're talking about launching an assault!" Kris declared. "No recognizance, no strategy. Maybe that's why the others never came back? Maybe they didn't have the brains of a dead baboon either."

Mike and Vandebrown shuffled in silent embarrassment. McKinsey enjoyed their discomfort.

"We'll be here for weeks repairing the ship," Valerie said. "Months maybe. Kris is right, why don't we try patching up New Ranger first? Postpone aggressive action until we know if it's necessary."

"Okay," Mike finally agreed. "Let's fix the shuttle, secure a line of retreat. Guess we aren't in that big of a rush."

Vandebrown thought of the unlabeled equipment lockers stacked in the staging area, wondering if knowledge of the contents would sway Zopek's opinion? No, he decided, better not mention it yet. When Vandebrown turned back toward McKinsey, he discovered she was eying him with amusement.

"Well, Roger dear? We're close to a consensus. Have you anything more to contribute?" McKinsey asked.

"No," Vandebrown answered.

"Then let's call it a day. We shall need plenty of rest for tomorrow," McKinsey said.

As she started to get up, an echo of footsteps from the hall suddenly caught their attention. At first the footsteps sounded far away, but they came on rapidly. Before anyone thought to react, a bright glistening figure appeared in the doorway.

"There it is!" Kris said quite unnecessarily.

"Indeed," McKinsey concurred.

The sentinel remained still for a moment scanning the room. When none of the surprised humans demonstrated hostility, it stepped forward within a few meters of the conference table.

"Welcome to the moon," the sentinel said in slow, measured words, the voice box creating an eerie reverberation. "This unit extends greetings to Doctor Laureen McKinsey and the crew of shuttlecraft New Ranger."

As the startled crew members came to their feet, McKinsey remained seated with studied deliberation, appraising the remarkable apparition as she stroked her wrinkled chin. When she at last rose to her feet and motioned for the others to sit, she displayed all the regal bearing of the classic McKinsey.

"Thank you for your hospitality," McKinsey responded.

"This unit has come for your answer," the sentinel said.

"You offer us little choice."

"On the contrary, you've been given more choices than most," the sentinel replied impatiently.

"Are you threatening us?" McKinsey asked.

"Specifying options," the sentinel said.

McKinsey sat down to consider her next argument, unprepared for their host's intransigence.

"Come now, Doctor McKinsey," the sentinel said. "You may as well agree. There can be no illusions as to the value of your word."

"You have us all figured out, do you?" McKinsey said.

"Affirmative," it said.

"Well, despite your cynicism, I offer my solemn oath to keep my party in the landing bay until we're ready to leave. What do you pledge?"

"Nothing," the sentinel said.

"When will we have access to other parts of the colony?" Vandebrown asked.

The sentinel did not respond.

"Please," Valerie said, jumping up and drawing so near the sentinel that Mike became worried. "We need medical facilities for Doctor McKinsey. She isn't well."

McKinsey instinctively started to protest but quickly changed her mind.

"Would you grant access if I agree to come alone?" McKinsey asked, slouching weakly in the chair.

"Negative," the sentinel announced, the question treated with contempt. "However, one of your party may gather necessary materials from the medical center. Would this compromise be acceptable?"

McKinsey nodded.

"May this unit select your representative?" the sentinel asked.

"As you will," McKinsey said with an irritated wave of her hand.

The sentinel turned and scanned the group, noting the frantic attempts of the older male to gain attention, and finally pointed in the direction of the young women.

"You. The pretty female," the sentinel said.

Hesitantly, Valerie stood up, evading her husband's attempt to draw her back The sentinel quickly intervened.

"Not you!" the sentinel declared. "The other one. The one called Captain Fairfield."

Valerie blushed before giving Kris an apologetic smile, retreating to stand near Mike.

"I'll make a list and be ready in a few minutes," Kris said, hiding her excitement.

"Then we have an agreement?" McKinsey concluded with a touch of reserved satisfaction.

"An understanding," the sentinel replied.

The sentinel turned and disappeared down the hall in heavy bounds, the footsteps fading away until there was only silence.

"Creepers! That's the most impressive, whatever it is, I've ever seen," Valerie said.

"What now, Doc?" Mike asked.

Equally curious, Vandebrown sat down in the chair next to McKinsey wondering what she had in mind.

"Valerie, dearest, prepare a list for Kris. Everyone else, go to bed," McKinsey said.

"What?!" Vandebrown shouted.

"That's it? Just go to bed?" Mike asked.

"You'll be bringing the shuttle inside in the morning. Get some sleep. I assure you, you shall need it," McKinsey said.

"But what about--" Vandebrown began to protest.

"Go to bed!" McKinsey snapped.

She stood up, leaned on the table until she found her balance, then walked to Kris.

"Be careful, dear. Don't stay out too late," McKinsey said, giving her a pat on the cheek.

McKinsey put out her arm for Mike's assistance and headed for the sleeping quarters. Vandebrown shrugged, picked up the overnight bags, and reluctantly trailed behind.

"You'll have to watch yourself," Valerie warned when she and Kris were alone. "I hear these lunar robots are all claws."

"I've had my shots," Kris smiled.

"I have stimulants in my medical bag if you need them," Valerie offered. "You know how I feel about artificials, but this is a special circumstance. Down to the community level and back is a long walk after the kind of day we've had."

"Thanks," Kris said, dropping the packets into her utility bag. "Sleep well. Don't hurt yourself in the lighter gravity."

"Mike's the one who better be careful," Valerie giggled, nudging Kris until she laughed. "I think you'll love Tranquility. You can see father everywhere. It's quite beautiful, not like those horrible underground shelters back home. Tell me if that little dress shop is still there. I remember it being very quaint."

"Yeah, sure," Kris agreed, keyed with anticipation. She wondered where the sentinel had gone.

"You're not frightened at all, are you?" Valerie asked in admiration.

"Not really. Well, I guess maybe we're all a little scared and don't want to show it," Kris said. "Except Mike. He's scared as hell and doesn't care who knows it. At least he keeps the rest of us honest."

"Be careful, Kris," Valerie said. "If the security system has malfunctioned, it will be very dangerous."

"Careful's my middle name," Kris said, initiating a hug.

As Valerie hurried down the hall, Kris expected the sentinel to reappear at any moment, but the better part of twenty minutes passed without a return visit.

Kris finally grew restless and walked through the corridor to the outer walkway where she could look down into landing bay minor. Unlike the larger bay, the smaller hanger was still bathed in darkness. Kris pulled the heat scanner from her utility pocket and examined the bay, finding the floor area occupied with four, possibly five objects scurrying about. This moonbase isn't dead, she thought. There's activity everywhere. We just aren't aware of it yet.

Then, from an obscure access, a spindly ball headed robot suddenly appeared with blinking lights, the tracks nearly silent on the metallic floor.

"Excuse me, are you Captain Fairfield?" the robot asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Tour Guide. I have been instructed to escort you to the medical center. Please follow me."

"What happened to the sentinel?" Kris asked.

"This way, please," the tour guide responded, spinning around and rolling off at high speed.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" Kris shouted.