Naomi shrieked ecstatically.
In another minute there were no more boys alive who hadn't taken
shelter underground.
I glanced upward and laughed. The boys' fleet swarmed helplessly
outside the dome like bugs on a lampshade, watching their hangout
ripped to pieces.
"Get their arsenal!" cried Naomi.
"Revenge for Phyllis!"
We dived again, spraying the roofless barracks with destruction,
blasting huge craters in their machine shop, starting explosions of
ammunition that rocked our ship, threatening to blow off the dome in
one piece.
At last the fun ended. "Only one missile left," Naomi warned.
"Hang on, then," I said gaily, stabbing the rocket controls. "Callisto
girls are homeward bound!"
_Blam!_ went our torpedo, tearing a second hole in the mangled airlock.
And out that hole we went, accelerating like crazy, pursued into deep
space by the entire enemy fleet.
* * * * *
As long as we were chased, and missile fragments rattled against our
hull, we continued in high spirits. Even when the boys scored a hit
that forced us to don our space suits, we remained elated. But the
minute the Ios broke-off pursuit we renewed our antagonism.
"Say," said Naomi over her helmet phone, "this isn't the right course
for Callisto."
"No, dear, I'm landing on Ganymede first. I don't think it's safe to go
on until we get that fuel leak fixed."
"Why should we pay good money to a mechanic when our own girls can do
the job?"
"We'd never reach Callisto. You don't realize how dense the fumes are
in this cabin. We could explode just like that." I tried futilely to
snap my clumsy spacesuit fingers.
"Look," said Naomi irritably, "let me do the worrying. I'm the leader
and I say we go directly home."
"I beg your pardon," I objected, holding my temper. "I understood this
was a fifty-fifty proposition."
"Callisto!" she snarled. "I order you."
"Shut up!" I snapped. "I'm pilot of this ship, and space law says you
obey me."
We'd have had our final showdown right then and there, except it's
practically impossible to wrestle in spacesuits.
We landed in Ganymede City and haggled over price with the same
garageman who sold me my used 2064 Spacer (being equipped for battle
by our ordnance crew even as we talked). He brought his bid down
finally from a hundred to seventy-five solars.
"Okay, have it ready in an hour," I said, walking from the shop.
Naomi followed indignantly. "Vera. Just where in the hell are you going
to get seventy-five solars?"
I paused on the sidewalk, hands hitched to my weapons belt. "I'll dig
it up if you'll agree to do some research for me."
Naomi smiled craftily. "Steal it, eh? All right, I'll go along with you
for the time being."
I left her at the public library and headed, with serious misgivings,
in the direction of my family home.
Ganymede City is a drab industrial town of a million or so people,
with very little excitement or glamor beneath its turquoise dome. The
chamber of commerce used to give a big buildup to the view of Jupiter
and the good job opportunities when they first wanted to attract
workers from Earth. Those poor shnooks soon got fed up with astronomy
when the boom fizzled out and the only jobs left were in the metal
refineries.
I hate my father who is a jerk just like the rest of them. Never quite
became shop foreman. Never quite able to buy his own house. Never
quite saved enough to move his family to Saturn's ring where the real
boom took place. And always so damn preachy to me and the younger kids.
And my mother disgusted me too for just sitting around and taking it
all those years.
"What are you doing here?" my father demanded. "You're supposed to be
on your way to Mars."
"Vera, what happened?" my mother whined. "Why aren't you on the ship?"
"I need a little more money. Seventy-five solars."
"What do you mean, a little more money?" said my father angrily. "What
happened to the money we gave you?"
"And the tickets," my mother, anxiously. "You promised me you'd go to
school. What did you do with the tickets?"
"Don't worry. I got a refund. It's all in a safe place."
My father got menacing. "Say, just what are you up to? You haven't gone
back to that gang by any chance?"
"Oh God forbid!" my mother cried.
"I need seventy-five solars," I repeated calmly. "Are you going to give
it to me?"
"Answer me!" my father roared. "Have you gone back to that gang?"
"That's none of your damn business."
Infuriated, he started towards me. "No daughter of mine is going to
talk to me like that. I'm going to give you the spanking you've had
coming for seventeen years."
I drew my whip and slashed him down the side of his face and chest,
cutting his shirt half open. He sat down with an unbelieving expression
and fingered the red welt. He looked at me through glazed eyes, almost
in a state of shock, as I rewound my whip.
My mother broke the long silence. "Here, Vera. Here are your
seventy-five solars. We never want to see you or hear from you again."
* * * * *
News of our gang wars rarely appears in the adult press. I guess
they're afraid the publicity might encourage more teenagers to join up.
But the colonial struggle with Sirius had ended, and there wasn't much
else happening in the Solar System just at that time, so our raid on Io
made the headlines.
GIRLS BLAST BOY HIDEOUT
Callisto fleet bombs, strafes
Io base in bloody juvenile gang war