gardenia and striped pants and professional smile. `Mrs Johnson! So happy to welcome
you! Do you prefer a suite? Or a housekeeping apartment?’
Princess Polly did not have to go to a kennel. She dined on chopped liver, courtesy
of the management, and had her own cat bed and litter box, both guaranteed
sterilised – so said the paper band around each of them, like the one around the
toilet seat in my bathroom.
No bidet – aside from that the Broadmoor was a first-class hotel.
After a bath and a change – my luggage arrived while I was in the bath (of course) –
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I left Princess Polly to watch television (which she liked, especially the
commercials) and went to the bar, to have a solitary drink and see what developed.
And found my son Woodrow.
He sported me as I walked in. ‘Hi, Mom!’
`Woodrow!’ I was delighted! I kissed him and said, `Good to see you, son! What are
you doing here? The last I heard you were at Wright Patterson.’
`Oh, I quit that; they didn’t appreciate genius. Besides, they expected me to get up
too early. I’m with Harriman Industries now, trying to keep ’em straight. It ain’t
easy.’
(Should I tell Woodrow that I was now a director of Harriman Industries? I had
avoided telling anyone who did not need to know – so wait and sec.) ‘I’m glad you’re
keeping them straight. This Moonship of theirs – Do you have something to do with
it?’
‘Sit down first. What’ll you drink?’
`Whatever you’re having, Woodrow.’
‘Well, now, I’m having Manitou Water, with a twist.’
‘It looks like vodka tonic. Is that what it is?’
‘Not exactly. Manitou water is a local mineral water. Something like skunk, but not
as tasty.’
`Hmm… Make mine vodka tonic with lime. Is Heather here?’
‘She doesn’t like the altitude. When we left Wright Patterson, she took the kids
back to Florida. Don’t raise your eyebrows at me; we get along just fine. She lets
me know when it’s time for her to get pregnant again. About every three years, that
is. So I go home, stay a month or two, get reacquainted with the kids. Then I go
back to work. No huhu, no sweat, no family quarrels.’
`Sounds like a fine arrangement if it suits you two.’
‘It does.’ He paused to order my drink. I had never learned to drink but I had
learned how to order a tall drink and make it last all evening, while ice cubes
diluted it. I looked Woodrow over. His skin seemed tight on his face and his hands
quite bony.
The waitress left; he turned back. `Now, Mom, tell me what you’re doing here.’
`I’ve always been a space travel buff – remember how we read Roy Rockwood’s Great
Marvel series together? Lost on the Moon, Through Space to Mars -‘
`Sure do! I learned to read because I thought you were holding out on me.’
‘Not in those. A little in the Barsoom books, perhaps.’
‘I’ve always wanted a beautiful Martian princess… but not the way you had to get
one on Barsoom. Remember how they were always spilling each other’s blood? Not for
me! I’m the peaceful type, Mom. You know me.’
(I wonder if any mother ever knows her children. But I do feel close to you, dear. I
hope you and Heather really are all right.) ‘So when I heard about the Moonship, I
made plans to come here. I want to see it lift off… since I can’t go in it. What
do you think of it, Woodrow? Will it do the job?’
‘Let’s find out.’ Woodrow looked around, then called out to someone sitting at the
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bar. ‘Hey, Les! Bring your redeye over here and come set a while.’
The man addressed came over. He was a small man, with the big hands of a jockey. My
son said, ‘May I present Captain Leslie LeCroix, skipper of the Pioneer? Les, this
is my daughter Maureen.’
‘I’m honoured, Miss. But you can’t be Bill’s daughter; you’re too young. Besides,