The gym was packed with sweating, grunting, grimacing men and women working the treadmills, stationary bikes, and weight machines. The only faces that didn’t look miserable were the kids; they scampered from one machine to another, laughing, sometimes shrieking so loud the adults growled at them. Every person in Selene, adult or child, citizen or visitor, had to follow a mandatory exercise regimen or be denied transport back to Earth. The low lunar gravity quickly deconditioned muscles to the point where facing Earth’s gravity became physically hazardous. Daily exercise was the only remedy, but it was boring. Pancho wore a shapeless T-shirt and faded old shorts to the gym. Amanda dressed as if she were modeling for a fashion photographer: brand-new gym shoes, bright pink fuzzy socks, and a form-fitting leotard that had men tripping over their own feet to gawk at her. Even the women stared openly.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Pancho replied, grunting as she pulled on the weighted hand grips. A favorite gambit of tourists was to have a picture taken while lifting a barbell loaded with enormous weights. What looked superhuman to Earth-trained eyes was merely ordinary in the one-sixth gravity of the Moon. “You’ve gone out to dinner twice since we arrived here, and you’re going out again tonight, aren’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Amanda added, “I have the impression it’s been with the same fellow each night.” Mandy was sitting at the machine next to Pancho, doing pectoral crunches, her arms outstretched with her hands gripping the ends of two metal bars. Then she brought her hands together in front of her, pulling the weighted “wings” and thereby strengthening her chest muscles.
The rich get richer, Pancho thought.
“So?” Amanda insisted. “Who’s your fellow?”
“It’s strictly business,” Pancho said.
“Really? And what business would that be, dear?”
Pancho suppressed a sudden urge to sock Mandy in her smirking face. “Listen,” she said, with some heat, “you go out just about every damned night, don’t you? What’s the matter with me havin’ a date now and then?” Mandy’s expression softened. “Nothing, Pancho, really. I’m only curious, that’s all.
I think it’s fine for you to have an enjoyable social life.”
“Yeah, sure. You’re just wonderin’ who my date could be, ’cause you’ve got all the other men in Selene sewed up for yourself.”
“Pancho, that’s not true!”
“Like hell.”
“I can’t help it if men are attracted to me! I don’t do anything to encourage them.”
Pancho laughed out loud.
“Really, I don’t.”
“Mandy, all you have to do is breathe and the men swarm around you like flies on horseshit.”
Amanda’s cheeks flushed at Pancho’s deliberate crudity. But then she smiled knowingly. “Well, it is rather fun to flirt. If men want to take me out to dinner, why not? I just bat my eyes at them and let them tell me how terrific they are.”
“And then you bed down with ’em and everybody’s happy.” Amanda flared with sudden anger. She started to reply, but stopped before saying a word. For several moments she stared down at her shoe-tops, then at last said in a lower voice, “Is that what you think?”
“It’s the truth, ain’t it?”
“Really, Pancho, I’m not a slut. I don’t sleep with them, you know.”
“You don’t?”
“Well… once in a while. A great while.”
Pancho looked at Amanda, really looked at her, and saw a very beautiful, very young woman trying to make her way in a world where a woman’s physical appearance still categorized her in men’s eyes. Jeez, she thought, Mandy prob’ly has to spend half her life keeping guys’ hands off her. So she just smiles at them and jollies ’em along and splits before it gets serious. It’s either that or carry a gun, I guess. Or a snake.
“Maybe we could ugly you up,” Pancho muttered.
Amanda smiled ruefully. “That’s what Mr. Randolph said.”
“Huh? Randolph?”
“He told me that if I want to go on the mission with you I’ll have to stop making myself so attractive to the men that go with us.”
Pancho nodded. “We’ve gotta find you some big, bulky sweatshirts. Or maybe keep you in a spacesuit the whole damn trip.”
The two women laughed together. But after a few moments, Amanda asked again, “So tell me, Pancho, who’s your boyfriend?”
Exasperated, Pancho snapped, “You want to meet him? Come on along tonight.”
“Really? Do you mean it?”
“Sure, why not?” Pancho said. “I bet he’d like to meet you.” Pancho knew that Humphries would go ballistic over Mandy. Good. The man had been pressuring her to find out more about what Dan Randolph was up to. Humphries had been getting downright nasty about it. Humphries had snarled at her when they’d had dinner, Pancho’s first night back at Selene. The man had seemed cordial enough when he’d ushered her into that big, formal dining room in the house down at Selene’s lowest level. But once he had started asking Pancho what information she had for him, and she had been forced to reply that she had little to report, his mood swiftly changed. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to tell me?” Humphries had snarled. With a helpless shrug, Pancho had answered, “He’s had us cooped up in La Guaira, studyin’ the fusion system.”
“I’m paying you a small fortune and I’m not getting a damned bit of information from you! Nothing! A big, fat zero!”
It was a pretty dinky fortune, Pancho thought. Still, she had tried to placate the man. “But Mr. Humphries, other than the flight tests with that beat-up ol’ cruise missile, he hasn’t been doin anything.”
“He’s been flitting all around the fucking world,” Humphries had snapped, “from Kyoto to New York to Geneva to London. He’s been talking to bankers and development agencies — even to the GEC, and he hates the GEC!” Pancho had tried to be reasonable. “Look, I’m just a rocket jockey. I If says he wants me to test-fly the fusion drive once it’s built but it might be years before that happens.”
“So what does he have you doing in the meantime?” Humphries demanded. Pancho shrugged. “Nothin’ much. He’s sent me and Mandy here to Selene. His personal orders. We’re supposed to be learnin’ about the asteroids out in the Belt. He’s got an astronomer from the Farside Observatory tutoring us.” Humphries’s expression grew thoughtful. “Maybe he knows you’re working for me. Maybe he’s just put you on ice for the time being, until he figures out how to get rid of you.”
Pancho didn’t want Humphries to think about the possibility that she had told Randolph everything.
“Wouldn’t it be easier for him just to fire me?” she suggested mildly.
“He’s on his way here right now, you know,” Humphries muttered.
“He is?” Pancho couldn’t hide her surprise.
“You don’t even know where he is?”
“I’m not on the mailing list for his personal itinerary,” Pancho retorted. “Now you listen to me, lady. I got your name to the top of Astro’s personnel list so that Randolph would take you into this fusion rocket program of his. I’m the one who’s gotten you promoted. I want results! I want to know when Randolph goes to the toilet, I want to know when he inhales and when he exhales.”
“Then get yourself another spy,” Pancho had said, trying to hold on to her swooping temper. “Whatever he’s up to, he hasn’t even been on the same continent with me most of the time. I only saw him that once, at the first flight test in Venezuela. You hired the wrong person, Mr. Humphries. You want somebody who can be his mistress, not a pilot.”
Humphries had glared at her over the dinner table. “You’re probably right,” he had muttered. “Still… I want you on the job. It might take a while, but sooner or later he’s going to use you to test-fly the fusion drive. That’s when you’ll become valuable to me. I just hired you too soon, that’s all.”
He made a forced little smile. “My mistake, I guess.”
Puffing and sweating at the weight machine, Pancho thought, Yep, it’s time for Humphries to meet Mandy. That might solve all my problems. She laughed to herself. What a setup! Humphries sends Mandy after Randolph and she doesn’t know that I’ve already told Randolph I’m supposed to be spyin’ on him for the Humper. And Mandy would go for it, too; she’d love to have Randolph in her bed.