The Blue-Haired Bombshell (16 page)

‘‘At 3:02 A.M.,’’ I said.

‘‘It’s now 3:03,’’ HARV corrected.

Carol pulled me out of bed, not seeming to mind or notice that I was only in my boxers. (I guess I should have been happy that this was one of the nights I decided against sleeping in my birthday suit.) ‘‘We have to go, now, before they get away,’’ Carol said. She pointed to my closet and a shirt and pair of pants floated out.

‘‘Carol, what are you talking about?’’ I demanded.

‘‘The assembly from the Moon is leaving,’’ she said.

‘‘They can’t leave—Tony is getting a search warrant,’’ I said.

Carol shook her head. ‘‘They are leaving before it’s issued.’’

‘‘They can do that?’’

‘‘They have interplanetary immunity,’’ HARV said. ‘‘They can come and go as they please.’’

‘‘How are we supposed to stop them then?’’ I asked.

Carol handed me my shirt, ‘‘We’re not going to stop them. We’re going to follow them.’’

‘‘To the Moon?’’ I said.

‘‘Think of it as a way to visit Aunt Electra,’’ Carol said.

In my years of working with Carol I’ve never seen her this worked up, and that includes the time when she turned into a superpsi and almost destroyed the world herself. Even if I didn’t want to go, I knew I had to. Not just for Carol, but for the world. Something wasn’t sitting right with this Moon crowd and I needed to get to the bottom of it.

‘‘How do you know everything isn’t kosher?’’ I asked, though deep down I could feel it, too.

‘‘Some Mooner psi named Elena. She’s so powerful, her mental SOS is ripping through my defenses like a laser through butter.’’ Carol grabbed me by the arm. ‘‘We have to get to the shuttle port and get on that flight to the Moon.’’

HARV appeared. ‘‘That won’t be easy. Due to the conference and the incident, the Moon is closed to all outsiders.’’

‘‘We’ll worry about those details when we get there,’’ Carol said.

HARV looked at me. ‘‘She’s been hanging around you too long.’’

‘‘Give me three minutes to change,’’ I said.

‘‘I’ll give you two,’’ she replied.

I got dressed and Carol and I headed over to the shuttle port. As we drove through the night we made our plans on how to get on the shuttle. My cover was that I missed my girlfriend Electra and wanted to see her. Carol’s was she had an urge to visit and interact with the psis on the Moon.

We figured they probably wouldn’t be too keen with a couple of last minute Earthers tagging along. We had a plan of action for that, too. We’d complain and make a fuss, a really loud fuss. Chances were, the Moon delegation wanted to make a quiet and hasty retreat. They weren’t going to hassle us that much. I surmised that they would rather let us on the flight than risk slowing down the flight. My logic being that their logic would be that once they had us on their turf, the Moon, they could control us better.

‘‘So that’s the extent of your plan, to whine like girls until they let you on the shuttle?’’ HARV said after I filled him in.

‘‘Hey, I
am
a girl,’’ Carol said.

‘‘I’m pointing most of my criticism at Zach,’’ HARV said.

‘‘I’m betting anything it will get us on that shuttle,’’ I said.

‘‘Yeah, but what then?’’ HARV asked. ‘‘What happens when we get to the Moon?’’

‘‘The plan is still forming in my mind,’’ I said.

HARV exhaled and rolled his eyes (literally 360 degrees). ‘‘The sad thing is,’’ HARV sighed, ‘‘this is actually one of your more elaborate plans.’’

The shuttle port, like most of the newer buildings, was a tall dome that sat on the outskirts of town where the airport used to be. The shuttle port also doubled as a central public teleporting area. It was kind of interesting how New Frisco was the only place on Earth that had a combined shuttle / teleport port. How did New Frisco become a city of power in the world?

Back in the old days, the early 2000s, Frisco was considered a nice artsy and trendy (i.e. expensive) city, but it always took a backseat to other major cities when it came to actually getting work done. Then, after 2022, when the aliens first landed on Earth, Frisco became a booming center of not just art but commerce and science and government. I wasn’t really sure why. After all, the aliens landed in Kansas. Yet somehow after the aliens revealed themselves to us, Frisco boomed.

HARV had a couple of theories about this, which shouldn’t be surprising as HARV has at least a couple of theories about everything. I guess when all you do is think all day it leaves you a lot of time to come up with ideas.

HARV’s theory on Frisco was actually two pronged: First the aliens had a lot of scouts in Frisco posing as humans. HARV surmised that aliens (being intelligent as they were) tended to be drawn to the artistic nature of early Frisco. The other part of the theory dealt with the human aspect. The same qualities that attracted the aliens to Frisco were many of the same that attracted a large gay community to the area. HARV had concluded (and had some stats to back him up) that gay people get more things done than straight people. HARV attributed this to the fact that gay couples almost always have fewer children than straight couples, and therefore they are less tired and less distracted. As HARV put it, conceiving children through sex is a lot more fun and less time consuming than going through courtrooms and adopting. So heterosexual couples would naturally have more children in the short run which in turn would tire them out more in the long run. Thus, it was only natural that Frisco would excel in this brave new world.

I wasn’t sure I agreed with HARV. I enjoyed arguing with him, though. It kept my brain fresh. I did have to admit though, he may have had a point.

We got to the shuttle port, parked the car, and headed inside. The place was fairly empty. A quick glance around the desk area showed that for every Earther manning a position, there was a corresponding Mooner. An Earther and a Mooner at the check-in desk. An Earther and Mooner (and a really big guardbot) patrolling the door to the flight area.

HARV informed me that we had actually beaten Sputnik and his entourage to the check-in area. They had just pulled into the parking garage and were at least three minutes behind us. That’s one of the advantages of traveling without an entourage (or luggage): you can move faster.

I walked up to the ticket counter. The Earther employee greeted me. She was a small, older woman with her hair done in an old-fashioned bun. She looked out of place in a shuttle port to the Moon.

‘‘Good evening, sir,’’ she said with a kind smile. ‘‘Welcome to the shuttle port, the fastest, most efficient, and only way to go to the Moon.’’

‘‘Nice motto,’’ I said.

‘‘Do you have a reservation?’’ the lady with a bun asked.

‘‘I have a lot of reservations,’’ I replied. ‘‘Space travel seems so sci-fi-ish.’’

She smiled at me. ‘‘Shuttle trips to the Moon are perfectly safe,’’ she said smile never leaving her face.

‘‘I’d like two tickets for the 6 A.M. flight please,’’ I said.

The woman passed her hand over her control screen. ‘‘Very good sir, I’ll just need your and your traveling companion’s DNA scans.’’

The employee held up a thumb scanner for me. I placed my thumb on it. A 3-D image of myself appeared above the lady’s control panel.

‘‘Ah, Zachary Nixon Johnson,’’ the lady said. ‘‘It appears you have enough credits to purchase this trip.’’

The Mooner employee looked over at my image. She looked at me. She was a short, middle-aged Asian-looking woman. ‘‘I’m sorry Mr. Johnson,’’ she said. ‘‘That flight is full.’’

The Earther worker punched a few buttons on her display. ‘‘Ah, no . . .’’

The Mooner looked into her eyes. The Earth woman’s eyes glazed over. ‘‘Oops, my big boo-boo,’’ she said. ‘‘That flight is full.’’

I heard the message ‘‘the flight is full, go home now,’’ in my brain. I ignored it.

Carol, on the other hand, didn’t. She leaned forward. ‘‘You’re going to have to do better than that,’’ she said, directing her comment at the Mooner.

My image floating about the screen morphed into HARV’s. He pointed at the Mooner woman. ‘‘I’m Mr. Johnson’s personal computer aide,’’ he said. ‘‘I have analyzed your reservations. The shuttle holds four hundred passengers and you have only booked ninety-nine spaces.’’ HARV’s image morphed to a layout of the inside of the shuttle cabin. Each of the empty seats was glowing and flashing ‘‘available.’’

HARV leaned over like he was reading the Moon lady’s name tag. ‘‘Now, Miss Osborne, that would mean that there are actually three hundred and one seats available. Being a supercomputer I’m quite good at math.’’

Miss Osborne was a bit taken aback. She obviously wasn’t used to having her mental commands rebuffed or arguing with a holographic supercomputer. By this time, I noticed Sputnik and his entourage had entered the building. That meant it was showtime.

‘‘Have you done the e-paperwork needed to make the trip to the Moon?’’ Miss Osborne asked.

She was grasping at random bits and she knew it. She was just hoping that we didn’t know it. Of course, we knew that Earthers needed no paperwork to go to the Moon. It was totally open to all of us. It was quite a source of contention with Mooners that they needed to be cleared to come to Earth, yet any joe could go there. Even if I didn’t have HARV hooked to my brain I would have known this. Osborne must have known we knew this, but she had to try.

‘‘Ah, yes, good point,’’ she said, putting a finger in her collar to loosen it. ‘‘I forgot the Earth to Moon equality act hasn’t passed council yet.’’

‘‘Sputnik is watching,’’
HARV said in my head. That meant it was time to really pour it on.

I pounded on the desk. ‘‘Listen, I am a tax-paying citizen of Earth,’’ I shouted. ‘‘Not only that, a couple of days ago I was a famous spokesperson. I demand to be let aboard this flight!’’

I paused for a nano to weigh the crowd’s reaction. There wasn’t much yet so I pushed some more.

‘‘Perhaps I should call my friends in the media? I’m sure
World Right Now
,
Instant Buzz
, and
News 2 Know
would love to hear about this!’’ I ranted. ‘‘Maybe I’ll call my good buddy, Captain Tony Rickey of the New Frisco police force. I’m sure he’d love to hear about this abuse of my citizen of Earth rights.’’

This caught Sputnik’s attention. He whispered something into the ears of his traveling companions. Just then I realized his entourage was made up almost totally of females. Out of the ninety-or-so members of his party, only four of them were males. It was mostly a blue-haired, Asian-seeming harem. I noticed Melda was directly behind Sputnik, along with another woman who looked like a younger version of Melda.

Sputnik moved forward. He was average height but quite stocky. His hair was blond with streaks of gray and blue, eyes a steely gray, but nothing very notable about his face except for his handlebar mustache and his goatee. He looked like a cross between a game show host, used hover salesman, and coffeehouse poet.

He held out his hand to me. ‘‘Why Mr. Johnson, how nice to finally meet,’’ he said.

‘‘He is so lying,’’
HARV and Carol both said inside my brain, though I didn’t need their kibitzing in this case.

‘‘The pleasure is all mine,’’ I said.

‘‘Gee, Zach, you could at least try to lie better,’’
both HARV and Carol said in my brain.

Sputnik released my hand. I fought back the urge to wipe my hand on the side of my pants. ‘‘So, Mr. Johnson . . .’’

‘‘Call me Zach,’’ I said, trying to play nice.

‘‘So, Mr. Johnson,’’ he continued. ‘‘Why do you wish to go the Moon?’’

‘‘Always wanted to go there. Never had the time. I figure now’s the time, with my girlfriend there for this conference.’’

Sputnik looked at me for a moment. One of his companions whispered something into his ear. He smiled.

‘‘Ah, yes, the lovely Electra Gevada, she is attending the ARC conference. I plan on addressing them tomorrow,’’ Sputnik said.

‘‘I’ll give Electra your regards then,’’ I said.

‘‘Really, Mr. Johnson, wouldn’t you prefer to visit our lovely Moon at a much less busy time?’’ Sputnik asked.

‘‘Nope.’’

Melda moved forward with the younger version of herself trailing just behind.

‘‘Mr. Johnson, how nice to meet again,’’ she said.

Sputnik shot her a glance. It was subtle look but I caught it nonetheless. He didn’t know that I had had contact with Melda before. He wasn’t happy. I just wasn’t sure if he was upset about the meeting or the not knowing.

Melda focused her attention on Sputnik. ‘‘Dear, Mr. Johnson and I met while I was working on a project with Dr. Pool. Zach and Dr. Pool are old friends. Zach saved us from a couple of plants. We didn’t need saving but it was a bold gesture anyhow.’’

‘‘Yes, I’m in constant contact with Randy as well as my good buddy, Captain Tony Rickey.’’

Melda locked eyes with Sputnik. There was some silence—she was sending him a mental message.

‘‘Perhaps you would like my computer to call them now?’’ I offered. ‘‘I’m sure they’d love to talk to you, Mr. Sputnik.’’ I pushed a button on my wrist communicator and HARV appeared before Sputnik and Melda.

‘‘I would gladly make the connections,’’ HARV said.

‘‘This is Mr. Johnson’s personal holographic assistant,’’ Melda told Sputnik. ‘‘He is very advanced.’’

‘‘Yes, I am constantly on and nearly impossible to override,’’ HARV bragged. Normally I’m not a big fan of HARV tooting his own horn, but in this case it helped make sure that Sputnik and his ladies didn’t try anything.

Sputnik broke his eye contact with Melda. He turned toward me then walked past me and around HARV to stand directly in front of Ms. Osborne. ‘‘Give Mr. Johnson and his lovely traveling companion Ms. Gevada a complimentary flight on my account,’’ he said.

Ms. Osborne lowered her eyes and looked at her control panel. ‘‘Of course.’’ She touched a couple of buttons.