The worst part of serving at Nippon One was the lack ol water for bathing. Even with nanomachines to ferret out atoms of hydrogen imbedded in the regolith and combine them with lunar oxygen, water was scarce and precious. Yamagata engineers had developed an ultrasonic device which, they claimed, cleaned the skin more efficiently than detergent and water. Nippon One’s inhabitants complained that its ultrasonic vibrations gave them headaches, its vacuum suction sometimes plucked hair painfully from one’s body, and it did nothing to relieve the body odors that made lunar living so unpleasant.

Still, it was a great honor to be assigned to serve at Nippon One, even if only for a few months. Yamagata’s brightest young men and women eagerly sought lunar postings; this new frontier was the key to rapid advancement up the corporate ladder.

Miyoko Hornma was the daughter of an old and honored Japanese family. Trained in astronomy and mathematics, she was determined to prove to her elders that a woman can add luster to the family name, just as a man can. She had jumped at the chance to work at Nippon One.

That was four months ago. Now, sitting in a cramped cubicle, feeling sweaty and filthy in fatigues that she had been wearing for several days on end, all she truly wished for was a steaming hot bath and just a bit of privacy.

She was checking the telescopes sitting up on the surface of Mare Imbrium, a chore she did daily, patiently studying the images they showed on her display screen as she ran each instrument through its checkout procedures to make certain that it was operating within its designated parameters. Her mind was wandering, though, to thoughts of home and comforts that she would not know for another two months.

Sitting next to her, close enough to touch shoulders, was Toshihara Yamashita, one of the communications technicians, headphone clamped to his ear.

“Have you heard the news?” Toshi asked. “The Americans have sent an expedition to the south pole.”

That jolted Miyoko out of her reverie. “No!” she said.

“It’s true. The chiefs are trying to decide if we should put up a reconnaissance satellite to watch them.”

“But we’re sending a team to the pole, aren’t we? I’ve heard about the preparations for weeks now.”

“The Yanks have beaten us to it,” said Toshi. “Somebody’s head will roll.”

“Have they gone to the Bright Mountain?” Miyoko asked.

“Where else?”

“Ah, that’s too bad. Now they’ll set up a base there, won’t they?”

“Of course. That’s what we wanted to do.”

“And there’s water ice there, too,” Miyoko murmured. “Now the Americans will claim it all.”

Toshi leaned back in his spindly chair, shrugging. “If the ice fields are big enough we can send a crew out there and stake our own claim. Maybe there’s enough for more than one.”

Miyoko felt doubtful. “Even if there is, the Americans will want it all, they’re so greedy.”

Laughing, Toshi replied, “We would too, if we got there first.”

“I don’t believe-’ The image on Miyoko’s screen suddenly caught her eye. Glancing down at the monitor displays, she saw that she was looking at a real-time image of the solar x-ray telescope.

“Look at that,” she said.

Toshi glanced at the screen. “At what? It looks like a bunch of noodles, all twisted together.”

“That’s a sunspot field,” Miyoko said. “It’s gaining energy very rapidly. Ill bet there’s going to be a solar flare eruption within a day or so.”

“So what?” Toshi said carelessly. “We’re safe down here.”

“Yes, of course… But no one should be out on the surface if the flare’s plasma cloud reaches the Moon.” Toshi’s face grew serious. “The Americans.” ’Someone should warn them.” ’They have their own observers, don’t they?” ’Yes, I think so. Still…”

“You’d better let the chiefs know. Let them decide what to do.”

SAVANNAH

“The expedition took off at fifteen-twenty-two, Eastern time.”

Jinny Anson’s image on Joanna’s wall screen looked tired and tense. She’s lost enough weight over the past few months for it to show in her face, Joanna thought. Is she ill?

“The two crewed ships landed safely in the Mt. Wasser area,” Anson went on, “but one of the freighters crashed on landing.”

“What?” Joanna nearly came out of her chair.

Anson had not waited for her reply. She continued without a break, “About half of the cargo was damaged or destroyed in the crash. Mostly scientific instruments and life-support supplies. We will have to either cut the mission short or resupply much sooner than anticipated in the mission plan.”

Almost as an afterthought she added, “There were no injuries to the expedition personnel.”

Joanna relaxed a little. “I want to be included in the decision on cutting the expedition short or resupplying.”

She could see that Anson was waiting for her response. When it came, the base director nodded as if she had expected it. “Of course. We’ll need to talk it over with all the top division management, as well.”

“How did the crash happen?” Joanna asked.

They discussed the situation haltingly, impeded by the three-second lag between Earth and Moon. Joanna had always found the communications lag annoying; this day it was maddening. Doug was out there in the open, more than a thousand miles from shelter, and the expedition was already in trouble the instant it touched down.

“Jinny’ she said finally, “1 have a favor to ask of you.”

Anson’s normally pert face, now drawn and weary, showed a sudden flicker of curiosity once Joanna’s words reached her. “A favor?”

I’d like you to stay on a few weeks longer up there. Until the expedition returns. I don’t think it’s a good idea to change base directors while that team’s down at the south pole.”

Anson’s expression went from curiosity to alarm. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mrs. Stavenger.”

Surprised, irritated, Joanna snapped, “Why not?”

For three infernally long seconds she waited for the answer. “I’m getting married. All the arrangements are made.”

“Is that all?” Joanna eased back in her chair. “The arrangements can be changed. I’ll personally pay for whatever it costs you. I want you at Moonbase until the expedition safely returns.”

I can’t have Greg up there while Doug’s out in the wilderness, she told herself. It’s a chance I won’t take.

But Anson replied firmly, “Mrs. Stavenger, it’s not my fault that the expedition departed nearly three weeks late. I’m going to get married in San Antonio two weeks from tomorrow. I am leaving Moonbase on the first of the month, eight days from now, as planned. I’m afraid I can’t change those plans.”

Her temper flaring, Joanna replied, “As long as you’re an employee of Masterson Aerospace you will follow the directives of your superiors. I want you at Moonbase until that expedition comes back!”

The two women stared at each other from a quarter-million-mile distance until Anson’s image on the wall screen stiffened noticeably.

She took a visible breath before replying. Then, with deliberate calm, she answered, “Mrs. Stavenger, if I have to resign from Masterson Aerospace, I will. I’m getting married on the seventh of next month in San Antonio, in the Alamo, and nothing is going to stop my wedding.”

Joanna’s immediate instinct was to tell the ungrateful little snot that if she thought she was going to travel back to Earth for her stupid wedding on a Masterson spacecraft she had another think coming. But Joanna stifled that response. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, she told herself.

“I would appreciate it very much,” she said to the image on the wall screen, “if you would reconsider your position. I will be happy to get you the Alamo for a future date. Or the Grand Canyon or the Taj Mahal, if you prefer. And I will of course want to give you and your husband a substantial wedding gift, since you are such a loyal and valued employee of this corporation. Please think it over.”