Apollo's Outcasts (15 page)

I liked the idea of seeing more of Nicole, but having to work with Billy Tate wasn't very appealing. Besides, I didn't think I was ready for a job that would have me risking life and limb. I shook my head, and Mr. Lagler shrugged. "As you will. But you'll need to sign up for something by the end of the week, or else you'll be assigned a job. Believe me, you don't want it to come to that...people who try to dodge CS usually get sent to the waste treatment center."

Melissa made a face, then yawned. "Yeah, well...thanks for the warning, but I'm tired. Do you think I can...?"

"You're excused, yes. Go on to bed." Mr. Lagler made a show of half-rising from his seat, but Melissa didn't notice the courtly gesture
as she stood up and shuffled away to the guest room. He watched her go, then looked at me. "Aren't you going to bed, too, Jamey?"

My eyes were feeling grainy, but I wasn't quite ready to sleep. "Could I sit up just a little longer? I want to..." I hesitated. "I'd like to ask you about something."

Mr. Lagler frowned. "Yes? What is it?"

I waited until I heard Melissa shut the door behind her. "On the way here...when I was on the ferry, I mean...Nicole told me something I'd never heard before. That I was famous, or something like that."

"Oh, really?" He raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't know this before now?" When I shook my head, he looked past me. "Imagine that, Elsa. The boy doesn't know."

Ms. Lagler had just finished cleaning up; she left the dining nook, wiping her hands on a rag. "Why would you be surprised? He was so young when it happened. He wouldn't remember..."

"Are you talking about my mother?" I asked, then quickly added, "Ma'am."

She smiled, appreciating the formality. "Of course," she said, settling down on the couch next to her husband. "Oh, Connie was such a beautiful woman. We were very fond of her, Algis and I. When she died..." The smile vanished and she shook her head. "Such a tragedy. Just terrible."

"You know how she died, do you not?" Mr. Lagler asked, taking his wife's hand. "And how you were saved...you know this, too, yes?" I nodded, and he went on. "That story has become well-known in the years since...how a mother, in her last seconds, gave up her own life in order to save her child. It's told to everyone who comes to the Moon as an example of the sort of courage it takes to live here, and what may be expected of all of us if we are to survive."

"I understand."

I thought I'd said the right thing, but Mr. Lagler shook his head. "No, I don't think you do. You're the child who was saved, and so
you're part of the legend...but unless you find yourself in a similar situation, you cannot understand what a brave thing it is that your mother did. Not really."

"But it was an accident, right?" I asked, and he nodded. "Then how could I find myself in a similar situation if this was something that...?"

"I don't know, but the day may come that you will. And when it does, you'll have to find for yourself whether you're worthy of your mother's..."

He was interrupted by a soft chime from the phone on the living room table. Mr. Lagler picked it up. "Hello?" he said, then listened for a moment. "Yes, they are, but his sister has gone to bed." Another pause. "Of course...yes, I will. Thank you for letting us know."

He put down the phone, looked at me again. "The town manager will be making a special address to Apollo in just a couple of minutes. His assistant called to tell me that it concerns you and your friends, and that you should watch." He reached over to pick up the holo's remote. "Maybe you should wake up your sister."

I thought about it for a second, then shook my head. "That might not be such a good idea, sir. She's pretty cranky when she has to get out of bed."

An understanding nod, then Mr. Lagler pointed the remote at the holo and thumbed a button. A miniature soccer field materialized before us, with doll-size players scrambling for control of the ball. Mr. Lagler touched another button and the field disappeared, replaced by a life-sized speaker's podium. The bamboo podium remained vacant for a few more seconds, then Loren Porter stepped out of thin air to walk behind it.

"My fellow colonists...thank you for taking the time to join me tonight
." Although his voice came from a ceiling speaker, it sounded as if he was in the same room with us. "
I'm sorry to have to speak to you on such short notice, but a matter has occurred which may have significant impact on the future of Apollo."

Mr. Porter glanced down at the podium, as if taking his cues from a screen we couldn't see.
"Earlier today, a transfer vehicle arrived in lunar orbit bearing passengers who left the ISC spaceport at Wallops Island three days ago. Those passengers are six children, their ages ranging from nine to seventeen. Most of them have parents who work for the ISC, and who decided to send their children to safety following the death of President Wilford."

As he spoke, a small window opened to left side of him. Within it was a holo image of President Wilford: his official portrait, familiar to everyone.

"There is a reason why they did this
," Mr. Porter continued. "
As many of you know, his former vice president, Lina Shapar, has proposed that the United States cede from the ISC and take control of helium-3 reserves here on the Moon. Such a unilateral action, of course, would be in direct violation of the United Nations Space Treaty, which has directed the international use of lunar resources for the last 130 years. It would also violate the accords that created the ISC itself, which state that helium-3 and other vital lunar materials are to be shared among the nations that belong to the ISC."

Another window opened to Mr. Porter's right, this one displaying an official holo of President Shapar: blonde and beautiful, but somehow vaguely reptilian, with an unblinking gaze that I'd always found unsettling.

"Although Vice President Shapar's position was supported by many within her party," Mr. Porter went on, "it was not supported by President Wilford, who was in favor of continued international control and sharing of lunar resources. This was not the first time since they came to the White House that the president and vice president were in disagreement. Vice President Shapar also spoke in favor of military confrontation with the Pacific Socialist Union, while President Wilford wanted to re-open negotiations with China and her allies."

"Shapar was bucking for her boss's job," Mr. Lagler murmured. "That's why she worked against him...she had political ambitions of her own."

"Who is she, Algis?" Ms. Lagler asked. "You know I don't keep up with American politics."

Mr. Lagler folded his arms across his chest. "Lina Shapar used to be Miss America," he said quietly, "before she married a senator from her home state. She didn't have any political ambitions before then, but after they were married she began to be more outspoken. Most of what she said echoed her husband's conservative views, but she was more charismatic than he was, and the voters loved her. Then Senator Shapar was killed in a plane crash and the governor appointed Lina to fill out his term. She rose quickly within her party even though her politics became more radical than her husband's, and when George Wilford...who was a moderate...won the presidential nomination, he tried to appease his party's right wing by tapping her to be his running mate." He shrugged. "It's been obvious for awhile, though, that the two of them actually despised each other, or that Shapar wouldn't hesitate to take positions that undermined the president's agenda."

I only listened to this with half an ear. I was paying more attention to what Mr. Porter was saying.
"When it became obvious that Vice President Shapar was intent upon taking control of helium-3 reserves, a number of ISC officials signed a petition in protest of her position. This included the parents of the children who have come to the Moon. They did so with the support of their European and Asian colleagues, but not long after the petition was made public, they learned that the vice president had placed their names on a secret list of political enemies, and that she intended to persecute them if and when she became president."

Mr. Porter paused to let his words sink in.
"This has occurred,"
he went on after a moment.
"As soon as George Wilford was pronounced dead and Lina Shapar was sworn in to take his place, her first act as president was to issue an executive order calling for the arrest of everyone she'd placed on that list. She did so on the grounds that they were involved in a Chinese-led conspiracy to assassinate the former president, and that these individuals posed a threat to the national security of the United States."

The images of George Wilford and Lina Shapar vanished as Mr. Porter continued to speak.
"This has been the White House's position for the last three days. The parents of those children who've fled to Apollo have been arrested, and we have since learned that they will be charged with conspiring to kill President Wilford...."

"No," I whispered. "They're lying. Dad wouldn't do that."

"I know," Mr. Lagler said quietly, then held up a finger. "Just listen."

"However, we are now aware of something that people back on Earth don't know
." Mr. Porter was staring straight at the camera. "
This information comes from another child who was put aboard that LTV before it left Earth
." Again, he paused for a moment. "
Please allow me to introduce you to Hannah Wilford, the daughter of the late President George Wilford."

Mr. Porter moved away from the podium, but didn't vanish from sight. A couple of seconds went by, then Hannah appeared.

She looked better than she did the last time I'd seen her. She'd cleaned up a bit and combed her hair, and someone had given her a fresh change of clothes. Now I recognized her as being the First Daughter, but perhaps only because she'd been introduced as such. Until we'd arrived at Apollo, she'd been just another scared teenager on the run.

Hannah hesitated, as if unsure of herself. When she spoke, though, her voice was steady.
"I'm Hannah Wilford, and my father is President Wilford, and I'm here to tell you that Lina Shapar is lying. My father wasn't assassinated...he died of natural causes."

She took a second to catch her breath, but it may have also been to emphasize what she'd just said. If so, it had the desired effect. Ms. Lagler gasped and raised her hand to her mouth, and Mr. Lagler bent a little closer. My father had hinted at this when we'd heard the news of President Wilford's death, but nonetheless I was surprised as they were.

"The truth of the matter is that my father was ill
," Hannah continued. "
In fact, he'd been ill for quite some time. Only a handful of people knew that he was suffering from a heart condition...atrial fibrillation...that put him at increased risk for a stroke. He'd managed to keep this secret while he was running for office, and after he was elected the only people who were aware of his condition were my mother and me, his private physicians, the Secret Service, and the few persons in his administration who needed to know."

"That explains a lot," Mr. Lagler said, darting a glance at his wife. "Like why he refused to release his medical records."

"Why is that?"

"During the campaign, Wilford's opponent demanded that he release the results of his most recent medical exam. Wilford said that he'd be happy to do so, but only if the other candidate did, too. His opponent declined...it later turned out that he had health problems of his own...and so Wilford refused to divulge his medical records as well." A grim smile. "That must have been a lucky break for Wilford. It gave him an excuse to avoid admitting that he had a heart condition."

"My father had medicine that allowed him to live and work normally,"
Hannah was saying,
"but he had to make sure that he took it on time every day and that he avoided stressful situations. Both of these things became very hard to do, and on one occasion his doctors had to be rushed in for emergency treatment. But the public was not made aware of the fact that he wasn't well or that his condition was getting worse."

Hannah paused again, this time to raise a hand and quickly wipe away a tear that threatened to reveal itself. When she continued speaking, her voice quavered, but just a little.
"Vice President Shapar was one of those people who knew my father was ill, and I suspect...I believe...that one of the reasons why she publicly opposed him on so many issues was that she wanted to increase the stress of his job as much as she could. But even if she didn't, she and her staff were preparing to seize control of the White House the moment he suffered a stroke. My father never trusted her...he told me so himself...but there was little he could do about this that wouldn't involve going public with his medical condition."

Hannah took another deep breath; I could tell that she was struggling to remain calm.
"So, when my father had the stroke that killed him, Lina Shapar was ready to put the blame on the PCU and claim that an assassin was responsible. She and her people were also ready to issue orders calling for the arrest of anyone they believed would oppose their agenda. This includes the American ISC officials who signed the petition protesting their plans to lay claim to lunar helium-3. They believe that if the US can take possession of the helium-3 supply, then it will be able to control much of the world's energy."

"They're right." Mr. Lagler's face was grim. "If America is able to do this, then..."

"Hush," Ms. Lagler murmured. "Listen."

"My mother was detained as soon as my father died, and I don't know what has become of her."
Hannah's voice was shaking by then; Mr. Porter stepped closer to lay a comforting hand on her arm, but she barely seemed to notice him.
"Secret Service agents loyal to my father managed to get me out of the White House, and acting on instructions he'd secretly given them in advance, they got me to Wallops Island, where I boarded a shuttle along with the children of ISC officials who'd also learned of the plot
." She paused to wipe a tear from her face. "
One of those kids had to stay behind so that I'd be able to get away, and I...and I..."