I’ll take care of her,” Doug said. The two crewmen looked enormously relieved.

“Come on,” he said, taking Melissa by the arm. “You’re okay now. You just need to cleak up a bit and get some food into you.”

Melissa groaned at the thought of food. “I must look a mess,” she said.

Grinning, Doug admitted, “A shower and a change of clothes would help.” She smelled so bad his own stomach wanted to heave.

He led Melissa to the waiting tractor and the co-pilot dumped her one travelbag on the back seat. As they trundled along the dimly-lit tunnel, Doug accessed the central computer and found the room assigned to Melissa. She must be a real VIP, he thought, to get the personnel department to push another short-timer into doubling up.

Fortunately Melissa’s assigned quarters weren’t far from the main airlock. Doug walked her there and told her to take a shower.

I’ll wait out in the tunnel and take you to lunch when you’re ready,” he told her.

Melissa was too miserable and weak to debate with the stranger. She stumbled into what looked like a cell carved out of rock, found the shower stall, and stepped in fully clothed. The water was tepid, at best, but it felt good. Slowly she stripped off her soggy clothing as the water sluiced over her.

She was looking for soap when the water stopped. Blinking drops from her eyes, she turned the controls. Nothing. Suddenly blasts of air pummeled her from vents in the ceiling and sides of the stall. She shivered, but as the air evaporated the droplets on her skin it began to feel warm, even hot.

And then it, too, suddenly stopped. Melissa shook her head, feeling like a hamburger in an automated oven. As she stepped out of the shower she realized that her nausea was gone. She shook her head again. No wooziness at all.

Leaving her soiled clothes in the shower, she opened her bag and got dressed: crisp clean ivory slacks and a pullover blouse of metallic gold. It was a struggle, though; every move she made seemed too big. She nearly toppled over onto the bunk when she tried to step into the slacks. Of course, she told herself. You’re on the Moon. The gravity’s much less here. Carefully, she finished dressing and slipped on a pair of soft-soled espadrilles.

No jewelry, only her wristwatch. She looked at herself in the shadowy reflection of the desktop computer screen; there was no mirror in the room. Warmed-over shit, she appraised herself. Well, girl, that’s as good as it’s going to get.

Wondering if the nice young kid was still waiting out in the hall, she stepped cautiously to the accordion-pleat door and slid it partway open.

Doug saw her peeking out. “Hi!” he said. “Feeling better?”

The shock of recognition almost knocked her legs out from under her. Standing there grinning at her was a young Paul Stavenger. Bigger than Paul, lighter skinned. But it was Paul’s eyes she saw looking at her; Paul’s irresistible smile.

Then it flashed into her mind: Paul’s son, Douglas, lived here at Moonbase with Greg and their mother. Paul’s son. Joanna’s son.

She pushed the door all the way open and stepped out into the tunnel, very carefully.

“We’ll have to get you a pair of weighted boots,” Doug said, offering her his arm. “First stop, though, is The Cave.”

Melissa clung to his arm and let him do the talking. She learned that The Cave was some sort of cafeteria or galley where Moonbase people took their meals. The thought of eating felt better to her now that her stomach was in place. She actually felt hungry. Ought to be, she told herself. You lost everything you had in there and then some.

“You haven’t told me your name,” she said as they walked slowly down the tunnel.

“Doug Stavenger,” he answered. “And yours?”

She covered her emotions quickly. “Melissa Hart,” she said, not trusting herself to say more. Joanna’s baby. Greg’s half-brother.

Then she remembered that this was the young man whose body swarmed with nanomachines. This was the symbol of wickedness that General O’Conner was sworn to destroy. Almost, she disengaged from his arm. The thought of those evil machines inside his body frightened her. But he looked normal enough, and she was afraid that if she let go of his arm she’d stumble and fall.

“You didn’t have any trouble working the shower, did you?” he asked as they walked down the tunnel.

“The water shut off on me.”

“Oh, sure. There’s a timer. Water’s pretty precious, still, so there’s an automatic cutoff in all the showers.”

“And air driers?”

Doug nodded easily. “We generate a lot of heat, most of it’s too low-grade to be put to anything useful, but we can save a lot of towel laundering by using some of it to dry off in the shower.”

“I see,” Melissa said.

“Not that we use water for the laundry,” he added.

“No?”

“Don’t have to. Just take the dirty laundry outside; the dirt dries out almost immediately in the vacuum, so you can shake it off.”

Melissa wondered if he were telling her the truth or pulling her leg.

“And the ultraviolet out there sterilizes everything, too, of course.”

He seemed quite serious. Melissa realized mat Doug Stavenger was a bright, good-looking, charming young man. Paul’s son in every way. Once they were seated at a small table in The Cave and Melissa no longer had to worry about walking in the feeble gravity, she could study his face, feel his intensity. He had Paul’s infectious enthusiasm, the same drive that could sweep you up and carry you away, despite yourself.

“…so you’ve actually brought us the LTV we’re going to use for our asteroid mission,” he was saying.

Melissa paid scant attention to his words. She saw Paul again. And the whole sorry mess of twenty years ago played itself out in her mind. All the pain and rejection and fury boiled up inside her, burning worse than the bile she had vomited on the way to the Moon.

“Your brother is the director of Moonbase, isn’t he?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice from shaking.

“Greg. That’s right”

“And your mother lives here, now, doesn’t she?”

Doug nodded eagerly. “In fact, there she is now.” He stood up and waved.

Melissa turned in her chair and saw Joanna: older, a bit thicker in the middle, her hair more gray than ash-blonde now, but unmistakably Joanna. While the other women in The Cave wore mostly coveralls, Joanna was in a midnight blue pantsuit set off by a flowered silk scarf at her throat. She doesn’t need weighted boots to hold her down, Melissa thought; those bracelets and necklaces must be heavy enough to do the job.

Doug saw that his mother had spotted him and pulled up a third chair for her. Joanna smiled as she approached their table, but her smile froze once she recognized who was sitting with her son.

It’s Melissa Hart! Joanna realized as she neared Doug’s table. She looks as if she’s been through hell and back. Painfully thin. And her eyes — as if she hasn’t slept in years. What’s she doing up here?

“Melissa,” she said as she put her tray on the table. “Whatever brings you here?”

“She came up on the LTV you’re buying,” said Doug.

“Really?” Joanna sat down between them.

“I’m here as the representative of the new corporation’s COO,” Melissa said coolly.

“Omar? You’re working for him?”

“For Mr. Rashid, yes.”

Doug sensed their mutual hostility. It was as obvious as the snarling of a pair of lionesses arguing over a bleeding chunk of fresh meat.

“I didn’t know you were still with the corporation,” Joanna said.

“I dropped out,” Melissa replied, “but I’m back now.”

“And in such a key position, too.”

Melissa said, “Mr. Rashid seems pleased with my work.”

“I’m sure,” Joanna murmured-

Doug broke in, “Just what are you doing here, Melissa? Why’ve you come to Moonbase?”

Before she could think of a reply, Joanna said, “Rashid is pushing the idea of developing nuclear fusion power.”