Ice Cream and Venom by Kevin Long

anything of it before, but now..." Lee said.
    "What? No! I've got a nervous thing going on, I get too scared, I get twitchy..." the missionary protested.
    "Honestly, guys," Susan said, "I think we're jumping at shadows here. Dumping the fuel was clearly my fault. I pushed him on the controls by accident, and honestly, none of you met me before we left. Hell, I could be a spy, if there was one. I think he's just a fat, clumsy kid."
    "He's a spy," Steve insisted.
    "It's looking that way," Lee agreed.
    "They shot Tom! They killed my missionary partner, why would they do that if we were spies?"
    "Maybe he wasn't a spy, and didn't know who you were," Steve said, "Maybe he wasn't actually dead, they just faked it for some reason. We didn't have time to examine the body."
    Grapeape looked pleadingly at Lee, "I saved your life! I got shot for you! I can't use my arm because I saved your stupid life!"
    "Again, he's got a point," Susan said, "I don't think he hacked up the engine. Maybe the axe just broke loose and clattered around in there while we were flying. You might as well accuse me of doing it."
    "I am not a spy! I'm not trying to sabotage anything. Why would I? That'd kill me too! I don't know how to fly this thing!" Grapeape got up, and huffed around the cabin in impotent, crippled frustration. He stepped too hard, and kept bouncing up and banging his head on the ceiling. He gave up and sat crossed legged, his head in his good hand.
    "Please don't kill me," he said.
    "Ok, here's what we're gonna do," Lee said, "Obviously, kid, there's a spy onboard who's fanatical enough to do himself in if it'll stop us, and obviously it's got to be the Feds, since they knew we'd end up blowing their dirty little secret. You're really the only candidate, so I'm going to lock you in the airlock with food and water and blankets and some issues of People Magazine. You'll be perfectly safe, no one's killing anyone, and then we'll turn you over to the authorities when we get back."
    "He is one of the authorities," Susan said.
    "I said we're going back," Lee said. "But we're not going home. The Feds'll kill us the minute we land. I don't see as we have any choice. We're going to have to go to the Soviets."
    "No, please!" Grapeape pleaded.
    * * *
    They spent the night on the moon. After Steve was asleep, Susan came up to the lounge deck naked, and enticed Lee back down to his room.
    "I want to give this another shot," she said.
    Whereas physics had worked against them in zero gravity, one sixth gravity was their friend. Everything was amazing, magical, wonderful, nirvanic. They made love until they quite literally couldn't anymore. They kept trying, of course, but their bodies sore, their lips raw, bathed in sweat, bleary-eyed, they were simply done, beyond the limits of their endurance. As they drifted off to achy sleep, Susan said, "Austin's a pretty good last name for an anchorwoman. You want to get married?"
    "Sure," Lee said.
    * * *
    The next morning, the airlock was empty, the outer door open. There was a semi-illegible note scrawled on the wall in magic marker that said, "I cannot allow myself to be captured by the Soviets."
    "Well, one less problem to deal with," Steve said.
    "I can't believe I was wrong about him," Susan said.
    "Yeah, it's pretty much cut and dried, isn't it?" Lee said.
    "Good ending for the story, isn't it?" Susan suggested, "Bad guy overcome, defeated, intrepid explorers survive to fight another day. Happily ever after."
    "Happily ever after," Lee agreed.
    * * *
    The flight back to earth had gone without incident, and then, Steve said, "Damn! We're landing!"
    "What? Why?" Lee said, scrambling up to the cockpit.
    "We were in orbit, I put the disk in the TRS-80 to plot a rendezvous course for Salyut 6, but then the landing computer kicked in! We're heading down!"
    "Can you stop it?" Susan asked.
    "No, once it's on, it can't be overridden until we land, then you can reset it," Lee explained,
    "How could this have happened?"