"My folks."
That was something I didn't have to worry about. My parents had died in
a strato-jet crash when I was four, so I hadn't needed many of those
"You are cordially invited" cards. Just one, which I'd sent to Charlie
Taggart.
Stardust Charlie, we called him, although I never knew why. He was a
veteran of Everson's first trip to the Moon nearly twenty-five years
ago, and he was still at it. He was Chief Jetman now on the _Lunar
Lady_, a commercial ore ship on a shuttle between Luna City and White
Sands.
I remembered how, as a kid, I'd pestered him in the Long Island
Spaceport, tagging after him like a puppy, and how he'd grown to like
me until he became father, mother, and buddy all in one to me. And I
remembered, too, how his recommendation had finally made me a cadet.
My gaze wandered over the faces, but I couldn't find Charlie's. It
wasn't surprising. The _Lunar Lady_ was in White Sands now, but
liberties, as Charlie said, were as scarce as water on Mars.
_It doesn't matter_, I told myself.