CHAPTER SIX

THE SNAPDRAGON

The two younger Barrys were eagerly awaiting their guest just beyond the inner door of the airlock. They were both dark, like Jane, and had the flashing Barry eyes. But while Ellen, the twelve-year-old, was slim and graceful, the younger Colleen was a butterball. And they were both as frank and forthright as their elder sister.

“I know you,” Colleen announced. “You’re one of the miners. You hate us.”

“I do not,” Pete protested.

“You do too,” Ellen chimed in. “You’re always trying to keep us from making a living!”

“Why, I wouldn’t do that for all the gold in the Belt.”

“You’re just saying that to be polite.”

“Ellen!” Jane said, “you stop that. Where’s Mother?”

“She’s in the bedroom reading her astrology book.”

“Did you tell her I was towed in?”

“No. She’s casting her horoscope for all next week. We never interrupt her when she’s doing that.”

“Mother never moves until she finds out which way the stars point,” Jane said by way of explanation. “Pardon me while I make a cup of tea.”

She left the room, and it occurred to Pete that he had referred to it that way in his mind. A room. But spaceships didn’t have rooms, they had cabins. That was what made the Snapdragon different. There was a rug on the floor of this particular room and a big easy chair into which he dropped to await developments.

There were pictures on the walls and curtains in the windows—except that in a ship the walls were bulkheads and the windows were ports, thus making things very confusing.

One thing was certain. Rachel Barry, whatever else she’d done, had made a home for her little brood.

Ellen regarded Pete narrowly from a safe distance while Colleen, less particular about whom she associated with, climbed into his lap.

“I like you—I think,” she said.

“I like you for sure,” Pete answered.

“Did you come here to spy on us?”

“No. I brought your sister home.”

“When Uncle Homer’s here, he says never answer the door, because it would be somebody spying.”

That was interesting, but Pete reserved comment. “Do you like living in a spaceship?”

“She’s never lived anywhere else,” Ellen said.

“What about you?”

“I lived on Parma for awhile—in a house.”

“She doesn’t remember it, though. She was too small. What’s that?”

Colleen had reached into Pete’s pocket and taken out his slide rule. He’d put it there while computing the orbit of the claim he’d found. “It’s something to work out problems on. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

“That’s nothing,” Ellen sniffed. “Jane uses one when she plots a course for the Snapdragon.”

“I’ll bet she doesn’t use it as good as you do,” Colleen said, then, obviously a child of impulse and quick affection, she threw her arms around Pete and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

Pete laughed. “Hey, hold it. You’re a pretty fast worker.”

“I love you,” Colleen said and clung with all her might.

“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Ellen said. “She loves everybody.”

But it was impossible not to pay attention to Colleen. She refused to let go, and Pete, trying to dislodge her as gently as possible, came to his feet.

Instantly, Ellen leaped forward and flung herself upon him. He went to his knees and both the young Barrys whooped with delight. Finding himself smothered, Pete struggled blindly, the impetuous pair too much for him on such short notice. Then his prayer for help was answered.

“Ellen—Colleen! Get up off that floor. I’m ashamed of you.”

“Aw, Mom. We were just showing Pete how to wrestle.”

They untangled themselves and drew away and Pete got back on his feet. “Thanks, Mrs. Barry,” he grinned. “They were too much for me.”

“Girls,” she scolded. “You’re too young to call older people by their first names. This is Mister Mason.”

“Jane called him Pete,” Ellen complained.

“She’s older than you are,” Rachael Barry said, as Pete brushed carpet lint off his jacket. “Please sit down, Pete.” She sighed. “It’s so very difficult, raising three healthy, active children without a father.”

“I can sympathize with you.”

“It was so nice of you to drop in. Jane should be home before long. She went out to do a little prospecting.”

“She’s here now. I came with her.”

“Oh, that’s nice. By the way, Pete, when were you born?”

“In August. The ninth.”

“That makes you a Leo. That’s a very good sign.”

“Jane’s in the kitchen making tea, Mom,” Ellen said.

“I’ll bet she’s in the bathroom fixing up her hair. When she comes out she’ll be wearing a dress and her hair will be all combed.”

“Jane had a little accident,” Pete said, pushing his words in between those of the Barry girls. “I towed her home.”

“Oh, that was nice of you. So neighborly. I wish the miners were more neighborly.”

“It’s just that everyone is so busy making a living. Then too, not many of them are married. Mining is a pretty rough life for wives.”

“That’s what I keep telling everyone,” Rachel Barry said.

Pete wished Jane would come back. He didn’t feel at ease with Rachel, not being used to the company of females.

At the moment he was struck by Rachel’s apparent lack of interest in Jane’s accident. This seemed inconsistent with her reputation as a devoted mother to the Barry brood. Then, possessing a certain insight into people, he realized that Rachel had a sublime faith in destiny. You worked and did your best, and destiny would see to it that nothing really bad ever happened.

Then he learned another thing about his hostess. When she wanted something, she asked for it. “Pete,” Rachel said, “we want to move the Snapdragon closer to the main stream of the Belt. That will make it easier for Jane to prospect.”

Pete almost said that a seventeen-year-old girl had no business prospecting for ore in the first place, but he remembered that it was none of his business.

“It’s so far from Pallas to the good fields. Will you help us?”

“Move the ship, you mean?”

“Yes. Jane and I can do it, of course, but we really need a man to help.”

“What about Homer? I’d think that—”

“Oh, Homer is a dear, but he has so many problems of his own. A body can’t depend on him.”

“Why, I’d be glad to help.”

That wasn’t true. Pete wasn’t glad at all. He had his own work and he felt that it was Homer’s job. But he could hardly refuse in the face of Rachel Barry’s direct request.

“Do you think your father would mind if we moored some place on Juno? It’s a very big planetoid and we’d be no trouble at all.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Pete replied.

What was he saying? Joe Mason would go straight through the ceiling of his slab-aluminum bedroom!

“Why, that’s so sweet of you,” Rachel said. “Your offer is most kind. And you’ll hardly know we’re there.”

Not know the Barrys were around? That was really rubbing it in. Pete gulped. He’d been about to reverse himself, or at least tell Rachel Barry he’d have to ask his father first. But after her outpouring of gratitude, he couldn’t find the words.

“It’s nothing,” he murmured.

Then he was hit from two sides by the Barry offspring as they demonstrated their gratitude in what amounted to physical attack. Advancing from two sides, they threw themselves on him.

“We love you! We love you!” they shrieked.

And as they began taking Pete apart, Rachel Barry beamed happy approval. “You’ve made a tremendous impression on them. They’re usually quite shy with strangers.”

Pete couldn’t conceive Ellen and Colleen as being shy with anyone, but he was too busy defending himself from the violent affection of the two extroverts to give much thought to the idea of their being shy.

Then he got his next surprise. This came as Colleen caught sight of someone or something in the doorway and hurled herself off Pete’s lap.

“Here’s Omaha,” she cried. “He wants to thank you too.”

She rushed toward the door. Pete’s eyes followed and he saw a small, furry beast glaring balefully at him from the doorway. It was on four squat legs and had a tail it kept twitching nervously. It looked as though it would enjoy having him for dinner.

The eyes were its most arresting feature. A clear ice-blue, they contrasted with its long, black, silky coat and made Pete think of two sharp knives pointed at his heart.

“What’s—that,” he gulped.

Rachel Barry laughed gently. “You’ve certainly heard of Omaha. He’s our pet cat. We all love him and he loves us.”

“Omaha’s famous,” Colleen babbled. “Daddy got him on Mars the last time he went there.”

“Somebody brought him from Earth,” Ellen said. “That’s where they have cats. He’s the only one in the Belt.”

“Oh, sure. I’ve heard of Omaha. He just—well, surprised me.”

Ellen picked the beast up and ran back to Pete’s chair. “Here. He wants to sit in your lap.”

This wasn’t true. Omaha had no desire whatever to sit in Pete’s lap. The beast’s hair stood on end. Its red mouth opened, revealing many sharp white teeth.

It did not use these, however. It had other, more convenient weapons: sharp claws on its feet. A thick, hissing sound rasped from its throat as it lashed out with the claws. They bit deep into Pete’s sleeve as Omaha made a seemingly impossible backward leap and landed on the floor in front of the chair.

“Why, Omaha,” Rachel Barry said sternly. “That’s no way to treat a guest.”

“You hurt him,” Ellen accused. “You pinched him or something!”

“I did not!” Pete retorted.

“I think he’s frightened,” Colleen said wisely.

This didn’t appear likely from where Pete sat. The beast crouched in front of his chair and appeared ready to take on all comers regardless of size and weight.

“It takes a little time with animals,” Rachel Barry said gently.

At that moment, Jane came to Pete’s rescue carrying a tray full of tea things. She wore a dress and her black hair had been brushed until it glowed like silk.

“Beat it, Omaha,” she said, and the cat lifted its tail and retired from the field in contemptuous triumph.

“Tea! How lovely!” Rachel said. “You see, Pete, we do preserve the amenities on the Snapdragon even under difficulties.”

“Oh, Mother. Stop it!” Jane said. “I made a cup of tea. What’s so tremendous about that?”

“Pete tells me you had an accident, dear.”

“I hit a ship in the Badlands.”

The sensational aspects of this statement escaped Rachel completely. Her mind was elsewhere. “Wasn’t it nice to have a strong man come to your rescue?”

Jane’s eyes narrowed. Pete, watching her, admired the willpower she displayed by not only holding her temper but smiling and replying sweetly, “Yes, Mother—very nice.” Then Jane turned her eyes on Pete, the smile remaining. “You’re probably beginning to understand why we don’t have much company on the Snapdragon.”

Completely bemused by the Barrys, Pete sipped his tea and wondered what would happen next. His cup empty, he said, “I’ve got to hurry along. It’s been great and I wish I could stay longer, but it’s getting late.”

“Do come again,” Rachel said. Her motherly smile radiated out to include Pete in the family group. “Jane,” she said, “Pete has invited us to moor the Snapdragon on Juno.”

Jane’s mouth dropped open as she stared at her mother.

“He—what?”

“He invited us to moor on Juno. He even volunteered to help us move the ship.”

Jane turned her gaze on Pete, but he dropped his eyes. “I do have to go,” he murmured.

“I’ll open the lock for you,” Jane said grimly.

“Goodbye, Pete,” Rachel smiled placidly. “It’s been so nice having you.”

The younger pair had already left in search of Omaha, and Rachel departed also. Jane went to the lock, checked the air gauge, and opened it. She turned and faced Pete.

“What really happened?”

Pete did a pretty good job of looking innocent. “Why, it was like your Mother said—”

“It was not! Quit trying to be a gentleman. It doesn’t look good on you. She asked to go to Juno and she asked you to help us. Isn’t that right?”

“Well—”

“Tell the truth.”

Pete’s anger flared. He was the victim of this conspiracy. He’d done the decent thing for Rachel Barry and now her daughter was blaming him for it.

“All right. We’ll forget the whole thing,” Pete said. “It will be a great relief to me not to have to ask Dad about the Snapdragon mooring on Juno. Tell your mother I changed my mind on both counts.”

Jane’s snapping black eyes glittered dangerously. “We’ve got a perfect legal right to moor on Juno. You didn’t stake claims on the whole surface.”

In truth, the Masons had staked only one small claim on their home asteroid. Their rights were of a somewhat different nature.

“We have possessor’s rights to that asteroid, and you know it.”

“There’s nothing in the law about possessors. They don’t legally exist.”

“Everybody in the Belt recognizes them. The miner who settles a planetoid and puts up a dwelling place has total rights.”

“All right. Then why isn’t it the same on Parma? Miners live there and don’t claim they own the whole asteroid.”

“Parma is a community planetoid—the biggest in the section, as you well know.”

“And Juno is the third biggest. There’s no reason why you Masons should have the whole thing.”

“If that’s the way you feel about it, why did your mother ask permission? Why didn’t she just moor on it?”

Quite suddenly—without a moment’s warning—Jane burst into tears. This, at best, was a foolish thing to do in the cruel atmosphere—or, rather, lack of atmosphere in the Belt. The heating equipment used outside sheltered areas was constructed to hold against the merciless cold, but tears froze instantly.

Appalled, Pete exclaimed, “Stop it! Do you want to blind yourself?”

Acting on instinct, he seized Jane by the arm, opened the plastic bubble of his monocar and pulled her inside. He slammed the bubble shut and turned the heat gauge to top capacity.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he said.

Frightened, Jane made no resistance as Pete turned her face upward to check for possible tissue damage.

“How do your eyes feel?”

“They feel all right.”

“I guess you got them closed in time. Can you open them?”

“No.”

They were frozen shut, of course, but there had probably been no damage to the eyeballs.

“Just relax. And breathe through your mouth so you won’t pull the ice in your nostrils in deeper when it thaws. Of all the crazy tricks!”

The tears that had run down Jane’s cheeks were solid ice. Using his fingernail, Pete carefully lifted the droplets away. They left white spots where they had instantly congealed.

“You could have gone blind in less than a minute!”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Then why did you start bawling?”

“Men are fools!” Jane replied, this being her answer to Pete’s lack of understanding.

“I’d say it’s the other way around. I never saw a man do a stupid thing like that. Why doesn’t your mother take you to Mars where you belong?”

“We’ve got just as much right…!”

“Okay! Okay! Forget I asked.”

“Let me out of here!”

Crowded into a car meant for only one, they were packed tight against each other. Jane began to struggle. The car rocked.

“Cut it out!” Pete snapped. “I don’t like this any better than you do. But until your nostrils get clear of ice and your eyes dry out, you’re going to stay here.” Fighting more tears, Jane turned her face away. Their headpieces were down, the monocar unit having taken over, and Jane sniffled faintly. She said nothing, and Pete couldn’t put any words together either. So they sat there, both of them angry, miserable, and completely frustrated.

“Do you feel better?” Pete finally asked.

“I feel all right.”

“Well wait another couple of minutes. Then you can go back into your ship.”

Another period of silence followed before Jane said, “I’m sorry.”

It was the second time she’d admitted to being wrong, and Pete should have found satisfaction therein. But he did not find anything but annoyance. Why, he wondered, did he—practically a stranger—have to get involved with this weird family? He wasn’t hostile to them. He wished them all the good luck imaginable, but he had problems of his own without taking on theirs. Since he was in this spot, though, he had to be decent about it.

“I think I can talk Dad into letting you moor on Juno.”

“Thank you,” Jane said contritely. “It doesn’t make any difference to me one way or another—you understand that, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“But if Mother wants to moor there—” Jane cut off in mid-sentence, her face turning thoughtful.

“What’s the matter?” Pete asked.

“I wonder why?”

“Why what?”

“Why Mother wants to moor on Juno. There are plenty of other asteroids if she’s tired of this one.”

“There’s no ore on Juno.”

“You mean you think my Mother plans to get all you—?”

“No,” Pete cut in quickly. “I didn’t mean that at all.”

He’d learned how defensive she was—how quickly her anger flared and he preferred her in a reasonable mood.

“The things the Brotherhood says—”

“I’m not the Brotherhood. I wish you’d understand that. I’m Pete Mason and I don’t go by what other people say.”

“Are you two having a nice conversation?”

The question came from the monocar speaker in warm, motherly tones that identified them as originating inside the Snapdragon. Rachel Barry was encouraging “neighborliness” and, when he turned to look toward the Snapdragon, Pete saw the two younger Barrys with their faces again glued to the ports. They were reacting with high glee to the sight of Pete and Jane wedged into the monocar. How, Pete asked himself, had he ever managed to get Uncle Homer into it the previous night?”

“You’d better explain to your mother why you’re in here,” Pete said as he raised his headpiece preparatory to opening the bubble.

“She’d only worry,” Jane said.

It was difficult for Pete to concede the truth of that statement. It didn’t appear to him that Rachel Barry worried as much as she was assumed to. He thought he detected a sublime faith in destiny there. While not bashful in her requests, Rachel Barry appeared to believe that everything would turn out all right if given enough time and a few appropriate nudges.

Jane said, “Thanks for helping me,” and began to climb out of the car. She wasn’t using her magnets and, as she reached out to grasp the anchor bar beside the Snapdragons air lock, a second monocar dropped down to the asteroid’s surface. As Pete closed his bubble, he glanced in that direction and saw Uncle Homer at the controls. Not wishing to be delayed any longer, Pete raised a hand in salute and lifted his own car away. Evidently Uncle Homer had successfully escaped the wrath of his accuser at the Brotherhood meeting. He wondered how long Homer could continue making such escapes.