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Narrative

A Helping Hand

Still annoyed that he should have to deal with such stupid antics from any of that brat-pack of teenage Sheps who’d grown a little feral since arriving as middle-graders, Lou walked alone to the dining commons for supper. Brenda needed to pick up her kids anyway, so it was a perfect excuse to say good-bye instead of walking with her.

However, the question that had originally brought them to sitting side-by-side at a computer in IT was still nagging at Lou’s mind. What exactly was going on at Schirrasburg?

It was probably the smallest of the major American settlements. For various reasons it had never really grown at the rate of Grissom City and Coopersville, and had remained more like a very large scientific outpost than a true city on the Moon. Yes, dependents were allowed to live there, but these days some of the larger commercial mining settlements were allowing the miners to bring their families, so the distinction was really blurring.

Which made it all the more surprising that Schirrasburg should be where the supposed lunar Patient Zero should show up. You’d really think it would be Grissom City, which was the big hub of lunar tourism. Before everything closed down, there were thousands of tourists coming and going, wealthy people who were apt to be lax about pre-flight quarantine procedures for the simple reason they were accustomed to their money insulating them from the consequences of their actions. If anyone was going to bring a bug up here, it was likely to be them.

But no one would go out to Schirrasburg for fun. From everything Lou had heard, the place was boring, boring, boring. All scientific and technical people, all with jobs to do and damned little time left for entertainment. The sort of people who went there took procedures seriously or they didn’t get selected.

Unless it was one of the pilot-astronauts. Things might be tamer than the wild and wooly days of the Mercury Seven, but military pilots were always a cocky and headstrong bunch. As Gordon Cooper was reputed to say, the meek might inherit the Earth, but they would not inherit the sky.

If that were the case, it would certainly explain why NASA was working so hard to keep things quiet. No matter how hard they tried to isolate the pilots from each other and from the settlements they visited, there was always a certain amount of interaction. And no one could afford the mess that would result if every pilot had to be grounded who’d had contact with an infected pilot for the previous ten days, let alone the twenty-five that some were saying was the largest possible window of contagion.

However, Lou doubted that Drew Reinholt would be satisfied with a mere hypothesis like that. No doubt he’d considered it himself, and probably avoided airing it in order to make sure he didn’t lead them down a garden path and make them less likely to consider other possibilities.

Except what other possibilities can we explore? I’m pretty well at the end of my skills, and who else is there to turn to?

Which was when he realized that he’d completely ignored his best resource. One of his clone-brothers was married to a top-notch programmer with a rep as a white-hat hacker. Better send a message off to her, see if she could help.

By the time Lou finished, he was at the landing in front of the dining commons. And gathered around the big double doors was a whole crowd of teenage Sheps. No, they didn’t look like they were hanging around to hit on girls.

Which meant that word had already gotten around, and they were looking for trouble. On the other hand, this was a very public place. How far would they push matters with so many people watching?

Lou squared his shoulders and kept walking as if he owned the place. “OK, guys, are you going to let me through, or am I going to have to Batman my way in?”

For a moment he wondered if the Sheps were going to respond with derision. But then they began to pull back. He decided he didn’t want to know whether it was the knowledge that he shared his ur-brother’s interest in boxing, or the two Security guys behind him, whose reflections were showing in the etched moonglass of the doors.

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