The stranger seemed puzzled, amused. "This may seem odd to you, but
I'm in the market for moondogs. Scientific laboratories all over the
system want them, and are paying top prices. The most unusual and
interesting life form in existence. But moondogs are scarce. Would you
consider parting with yours? I can assure you he'll receive kind
treatment and good care. They're too valuable for anything else."
Denver almost blanked out again. It was too much like the more
harrowing part of his dreams. He blinked his eyes, but the man was
still there.
"One of us is crazy," he mused aloud. "Maybe both of us. I can't sell
Charley. I'd miss him too much."
Suddenly, as it happens in dreams, Soleil Martin stood beside him. Her
arms were empty, but she stood there, smiling.
"You wouldn't have to sell Charley," she said, giving Denver a
curious, thrusting glance. "Had you forgotten that you're now a
father, or foster-grandfather, or something. You have moonpups, in
quantity. I had to let you lie there while I put the little darlings
to bed. And it's not Charley any more, please. Charlotte. It has to be
Charlotte."
Denver paled and groaned. He turned hopefully to the fat stranger.
"Say, mister, how many moonpups can you use?"
"All of them, if you'll sell." The man whipped out a signed, blank
check, and quickly filled in astronomical figures. Denver looked at
it, whistled, then doubted first his sanity, then the check.
"Take them," Denver murmured. "Take them, quick, before you change
your mind, or all this evaporates in dream."
A moondog has no nerves. Charley--or Charlotte--had none, but the
brood of moonpups had already begun to get on whatever passed for
nerves in his electronic make-up. He was glad and relieved to be rid
of his numerous progeny. He, or she, showed passionate and
embarrassing affection for Denver, and even generously included Soleil
Martin in the display.
Denver stared at her suddenly while she helped the commission agent
round up his radiant loot and make ready for the return to town. It
was as if he were seeing her for the first time. She was pretty. Not
beautiful, of course. Just pretty. And nice. He remembered that he was
carrying her picture in his pocket.
She was even an Earth-girl. They were almost as scarce in the moon
colonies as moondogs.
"Look here," he said. "I have money now. I was going out prospecting
but it can wait. I kind of inherited you from your father, you know.
Do you need dough or something?"
Soleil laughed. "I need everything. But don't bother. I haven't any
claim on you. And I can ride back to the city with Mr. Potts. He looks
like a better bet. He can write such big checks, too."
Denver made a face of disgust. "All women are alike," he muttered
savagely. "Go on, then--"
Soleil frowned. "Don't say it. Don't even think it. I'm not going
anywhere. Not till you go. I just wanted you to ask me nice. I'm
staying. I'll go prospecting with you. I like that. Dad made me study
minerals and mining. I can be a real help. With that big check, we can
get a real outfit."
Denver stopped dreaming. "But you don't know what it's like out there.
Just empty miles of loneliness and heat and desert and mountains of
bare rock. Not even the minimum comforts. Nights last two Earth weeks.
There'd just be you and me and Charlotte."
Soleil smiled fondly. "It listens good, and might be fun. I like
Charlotte and you. I'm realistic and strong enough to be a genuine
partner."
Tod Denver gasped. "You sure know what you want--Partner!" He grinned.
"Now we'll have a married woman along. I was worried about wandering
around, unprotected, with a female moondog--"