Free Apollo's Outcasts by Allen Steele Page B

that she'd stay on the Moon. If I had LBDS...which seemed pretty likely...she and I would remain in Apollo while Dad went home to pick up Jan and Melissa and sell the house."
    "So your whole family was going to relocate to the Moon?"
    "That was the plan, yeah." I nodded. "ISC offered Dad a permanent position as assistant general manager and Mom would've had a job in the life support division. They were still living in temporary quarters...one of the inflatable habs...but as soon as Apollo was finished, we would've moved into an apartment that had already been reserved for us. So they had everything figured out. And then..."
    My voice trailed off, as it always did when I got to this part of thestory. Which was why I usually avoided telling it. "Your mother was killed," Gordie said quietly.
    "Yeah." I coughed to clear my throat. "I was about six weeks old when it happened. Mom and I were in the hab when some idiot outside who was messing around with a rover lost control of it. It crashed into the hab and broke the window of the room we were in. The inside doors started to shut, which is what I guess they're supposed to do when there's a blowout like that, and it happened so fast that Mom couldn't make it. But she had just enough time to throw me to someone who was standing just outside before the doors shut, and...well, that was it. She gave up her life to save mine."
    "Damn." Gordie had a look on his face that I knew well: he didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Jamey. That's tough."
    I had no memory of what had happened--hell, I didn't even know my mother--so all I could do was shrug. "Anyway, Dad hadn't yet gone back home to fetch my sisters, and after Mom died...well, that sort of took the wind out of the whole idea of moving my family to Apollo. By then it was clear that I had LBDS and that I'd never be able to walk on my own if I went to Earth, but Dad just didn't want to stay on the Moon. Fortunately, the doctors told him that I was healthy enough to survive the trip, so a couple of weeks later he took me...well, home."
    "Uh-huh." Gordie was quiet for a few moments as he gazed out the cockpit window at the immense silver-grey sphere looming before us. "And you've never thought about coming back here? Until now, I mean?"
    "No. Why would I?"
    "Because you're a loony, that's why." A faint smile. "Maybe that's not how you think of yourself, but you should have seen the look on your face when you got up from your cocoon yesterday." He nodded toward the Moon. "That's your home, kiddo. Earth is just the place where you've been staying."
    He was wrong, of course. I'd already pegged him as a hard-corespace cadet, though, so I wasn't about to argue with him. "Whatever you say," I murmured. "I just know that Jan should have been aboard the shuttle when we took off. If it hadn't been for Hannah..."
    "Leave her alone." Gordie's expression changed; a frown replaced the sympathetic smile. "There's a good reason for her to be here, and your sister did a very brave thing to give up her seat for her." He turned toward the console. "Don't let her sacrifice be for nothing."
    I stared at him. "What are you...?"
    "Hey, look, I've got work to do." Gordie tapped his fingers against the keypad; diagrams and figures appeared on the right-hand screen. "Go grab a nap, okay?"
    He clearly didn't want to talk anymore, so I left the cockpit and floated back into the passenger compartment. As I pulled myself toward my hammock, I moved past the other kids. Everyone else was still asleep, or at least so I thought until I passed Hannah. When I happened to look her way, I caught a glimpse of her face just in time to see her close her eyes.
    She had been awake and listening to us.

    The next day, we reached the Moon.
    Just before the LTV began its primary approach, Gordie had us take down the hammocks and stow them away. We didn't unfold the seats, but instead held onto the ceiling rail. As he strapped himself into the cockpit seat, I positioned myself behind