SAVANNAH

Looking back on it, Joanna realized it was inevitable that Paul would insist on going to the Moon for the nanotech demonstration.

“You don’t have to be physically there,” she told her husband, time and again.

“But I want to be,” Paul always countered.

Joanna tried every tactic she knew.

“You are much to valuable to the corporation to go running off to the Moon just to watch a demonstration project.”

Paul grinned at her. “Don’t worry. Madam Chairperson; I’m well insured. The corporation won’t get hurt financially if something happens to me.”

“But what about me? What about our baby?”

He hesitated at that. But then, “This is for the baby. Don’t you see? I want this demonstration to succeed. It’s got to succeed! The whole future of the corporation depends on it.”

“It will succeed or fail whether you’re there or not,” Joanna insisted.

“Maybe.”

“You’ve got a God complex!” she accused.

He shook his head, very seriously. “If I stay here and the demo screws up, I’ll blame myself for not being there to make sure it goes right.”

“That’s a God complex,” Joanna pointed out.

“That’s an experienced executive,” Paul retorted. “The crew always works better when the captain is on the bridge. Don’t you know that?”

“Sheer machismo.”

Since Greg was working so well with Paul, she turned to her son for support.

To her surprise, Greg agreed with Paul. “I think he ough to be there. This is a crucial experiment and we’ve got to do everything we can to make sure it comes out right.”

His newfound professional demeanor surprised and pleased her — except that his position on the matter was opposed to her own.

At dinner one evening at the house, Paul suggested that he go to Moonbase with him. “You’ve never been up there. You ought to see it.”

“You want me to go with you?” Greg asked. He looked a: surprised as Joanna felt.

“Sure,” said Paul. “Why not?”

“Oh no!” Joanna said. Firmly.

Paul was bubbling with preparations for the coming trip to Moonbase. He wants to go sobadly, Joanna understood at last His heart is there, in that godforsaken barren desolation. No here. Not with me.

Greg, she saw, was nowhere near as enthusiastic about travelling to the Moon as Paul was.

“I’m not going to have both of you out there at the same time,” Joanna said. “That’s too much.”

Paul gave her a strange expression. Only later, much later, did she realize that he felt she was willing to let him risk his life on the Moon, even though reluctantly, but she absolutely would not tolerate her son taking the same risk.

“I’m going to Moonbase,” Paul said flatly.

“Greg stays here,” she answered.

Dinner was served in cold silence.

Days later, Greg took Paul aside at the corporate offices and said, “I’d really like to go with you, but I can’t worry my mother so much. She’d be frantic.”

Paul looked at his wife’s son. He had a difficult time picturing Joanna being frantic over anything.

But he said, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right I’ll go, you stay and hold her hand.”

“I can keep in touch with you through the VR system,” Greg suggested.

With a wan smile, Paul said, “Good as it is, virtual reality isn’t the same as being there.”

Greg shrugged his shoulders. “I agree. But it’ll have to do.” ;’Yeah,” said Paul.

Greg and, Joanna went to the company airstrip to watch Paul depart for Florida and the Clippership launch to the space station that was the first step on his trip to Moonbase. A contingent of San Jose technicians were waiting for him at Cape Canaveral, and a man-sized container of nanomachines rested in the rocket’s cargo hold.

“You’re crying,” Greg said as he and Joanna watched Paul’s plane take off.

“It’s just the dust,” Joanna insisted, turning from the ramp toutside the hangar toward the limousine that was waiting to take them home: Joanna to her house, Greg to his condo in town.

She actually saw more of her husband over the next few days than she had for weeks: Paul called her regularly from the space station and even from the transfer rocket that took him from the space station to the clutch of buried shelters that he called Moonbase.

“Well, I’m here,” Paul’s image said to her from the display screen in her bedroom. “Landed half an hour ago.”

“I was wondering when you’d call.” Joanna was sitting up in bed, a small mountain of pillows behind her. She had been waiting for his call for more than an hour, staring at the schedule for Paul’s flight when his call finally came through, telling herself that it takes some time to get out of the landing vehicle and into the living quarters of the underground shelter, so it was silly to worry about him.

“Must be after midnight, your time, right?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said to the screen. “I’m just glad you got there safely.”

There was nearly a three-second lag while her words hurtled to the Moon at the speed of light and his response raced back to her.

Paul broke into a big grin. “Hey, it’s a lot safer here than it is in New York.”

Joanna forced a laugh. “I suppose so. I’m glad you’re all right, though.”

Again the lag. Then, “Well, I’ll be here for a couple of days getting things set up. Then we go out to the remote site.”

“You’ll be travelling by hopper?”

She noticed, while waiting for his reply, a good-looking young woman in the background of the crowded underground shelter. For an instant she thought it was Melissa, but no, this woman was younger and either white or Hispanic.

“By tractor. We’ve got too much cargo to haul for a hopper to lift. Had to throw my weight around to get one,” Paul said. “They’re all in pretty constant use.”

“The oxygen plant?”

Were there other women up there? Joanna wondered. She’d have to check the files, she decided, and see who was with Paul in those intimate quarters. Vaguely she recalled hearing jokes about living conditions at Moonbase: something about spacesuits built for two.

“Seems funny,” Paul was saying. “The crew here is breakin’ their humps putting this oxygen facility together, and if the nanobugs work right, we’ll be able to pull oxy directly out of the rocks and even make water with it.”

They chatted for nearly half an hour, always with that annoying little delay between them. Paul looks so happy, Joanna thought He’s in his element. He loves being there. He’s only playing at corporate business down here; what he really wants is to be on the Moon. He feels free there.

Free of me, she thought. Free to sample the younger women who have the same love for that frontier as he does.

Finally she said goodnight, pleading a full schedule and the need to get up early the next morning.

“Yeah,” Paul said, once her words reached him. “We’re gonna have a busy day, too. Goodnight, Joanna.” Then he hunched closer to the screen and lowered his voice. “I love you, baby.” And Joanna found that her eyes were misting again.

The following evening Joanna asked Greg to come to the house and have dinner with her.

I’d love to,” her son replied. He arrived at the house with a big bouquet of flowers. To brighten up the place,” he said.

Faced with the choice of eating in the ormal dining room or the kitchen’s breakfast nook, Joanna chose the dining room. The butler used Greg’s bouquet as a centerpiece on the long, polished cherrywood table, and set their two places with Joanna at the head of the table and Greg at her right.

“So how’s he doing up there?” Greg asked as they spooned their soup.

“I haven’t heard from him all day.”

“He must be awfully busy.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“He’ll call later. They’re on Greenwich time up there. All the space facilities are.”

“I know.”

“So it’s…’ Greg pressed a stud on his wristwatch, “…God, it’s almost one in the morning there!”