0398: The Plan Revealed
"I reckoned I had you pegged, Monty," she admitted. "You always struck me as the type that shied away from danger."
"I was holding my breath," Constance admitted quietly as she gazed out the amber blister of the asteroid pod's viewport. "I wasn't sure they'd let me go."
Outside, the curved panel that provided ingress to the tower's landing bay was sliding silently closed. They watched as the initial boost of the pod's thrusters carried them slowly away from the metallic surface of the tower. Ed had learned from experience to wait a minute before activating the thrusters again, giving the passengers time to recover from the disorientation that came from switching between two fields of synthetic gravity. For that, Lamont was grateful.
"It's never given us trouble before," Ed remarked from the pilot's console. "The mechanism seems to be completely automatic."
"Could be," Constance shrugged. "I wasn't inclined to take any chances. That's why I wouldn't let you give me any details about your plan until we were out." She looked at Lamont. "So what is your plan?"
Ed manipulated the controls and the tower outside began to shift in orientation. Ahead of them, the dark surface of the moon slipped into view, and the tower became a metallic tube that foreshortened infinitely until it became a silver thread that disappeared into the ghostly blue veil of fog. Ed was guiding the asteroid pod toward the moon, parallel to the tower, the side of which Lamont estimated to be perhaps fifty yards away now.
Lamont unlatched the metal suitcase that rested on the bucket seat beside him and showed Constance its contents. "We've found that the tower won't let us take the lift down more than about halfway," he reminded her. "Which means there's probably something about the lower half that it doesn't want us to see. My plan is to use these magnetic crampons and grapples to rappel down past the midway point and look for a way in from the outside."
Constance picked up one of the grapple pistols in her copper-gloved hand and examined it for a moment before returning her attention to Lamont. "I reckoned I had you pegged, Monty," she admitted. "You always struck me as the type that shied away from danger."
The newspaperman swallowed. "I'm not the type to relish putting young ladies in danger. I wish I had a better idea. And believe me, it's going against my better judgement to let you in on it." He looked at her seriously. "Now that you know what I intend to do, Miss Beckett, I hope that you'll want no part of it."
The young woman barked a laugh, looping the tether that connected the grip of the grapple pistol to her slim wrist. "After being cooped up in that confounded fairyland for weeks, you expect me to sit idly by and let you have all the fun?"