The girl tried a smile on him but she looked ill-at-ease. "You look
like one of the local boy scouts," she said. "How about helping a lady
in distress?"
"I make a hobby of it," he snarled. "I don't even care if they're
ladies. But I'm fresh out of romance and slightly soured. And I'm
worried about the one friend who's dumb enough to stick by me. You
picked a bad time to ask. What do you want?"
The girl smiled shyly. "All right, so you don't look like a boy scout.
But I'm still a girl in a jam. I'm tired and broke and hungry. All I
want is a sandwich, and maybe a lift to the next town. I should have
gone back with the Patrol ship but I guess they forgot me. I thought
maybe, if you're going somewhere that's civilized, I could bum a lift.
What's wrong with your friend?"
Denver indicated Charley. "Frankly, I don't know." He balked at trying
to explain again just what a moondog was. "But who are you? What did
you want here?"
The girl stared at him. "Didn't you know? I'm Soleil. My father owned
this mine. He thought he'd found something, and sent for me to share
it. It took the last of our money to get me here, but I wanted to
come. We hadn't seen each other for twenty years. Now he's dead, and
I'm broke, alone and scared. I need to get to some place where I can
dream up an eating job."
"You're Martin's kid?"
Soleil nodded, absently, looking at Charley. The moondog gave a
strange, electronic whimper. There was an odd expression on the girl's
face. A flash of inspiration seemed to enlighten her.
"I'll take care of this," she said softly. "You wait outside."
Somewhat later, after blinding displays of erratic lightnings had
released a splendor of fantastic color through the view-ports to
reflect staggeringly from the mountain walls, a tired girl called out
to Tod Denver.
She met him inside the airlock. In her arms snuggled a pile of
writhing radiance, like glowing worms. Moonpups. A whole litter of
moonpups.
"They're cute," Soleil commented, "but I've never seen anything quite
like this before."
"It must have been a delayed fuse," said Denver, wilting. "Here we go
again."
He fainted....
* * * * *
Awakening was painful to Denver. He remembered nightmare, and the
latter part of his memory dealt with moonpups. Swarms of moonpups. As
if Charley hadn't been enough. He was not sure that he wanted to open
his eyes.
He thought he heard the outer flap of the airlock open, then someone
pounding on the inner door. Habit of curiosity conquered, and his
eyelids blinked. He looked up to find a strange man beside his bed.
The man was fat, fussy, pompous. But he looked prosperous, and seemed
excited.
Denver glanced warily about the room. After all, he had been strained.
Perhaps it was all part of delirium. No sign of the girl either. Could
he have imagined her, too? He sighed and remembered Darbor.
"Tod Denver?" asked the fat, prosperous man. "I got your name from a
Sergeant of Security Police in Crystal City. He says you own a
moondog. Is that true?"