The Tranquillity Alternative by Allen Steele

long-distance call from your sister Ruth,” the young man in the blue blazer responded. “Says she wants to speak to you before you go.”
    He had been expecting this call. The real Paul Dooley had a sister in Austin, a fact that anyone in NASA’s Astronaut Office could easily ascertain from checking his file; what they didn’t know was that Ruth Weinberg wasn’t on speaking terms with her younger brother and wasn’t likely to call him even before he was about to board an orbital ferry.
    “I’ll take it, thanks.” Dooley pushed back his chair and stood up. “Excuse me,” he said to Parnell, glad to escape from their conversation. Parnell waved him off as Dooley sauntered across the room to the door.
    The NASA flack led him down the corridor to a small office, where he helpfully punched a button on the phone to give him a private extension. When the kid was gone, Dooley picked up the receiver. “Hello, Ruth?”
    “Hi, Paul?” a female voice said. “It’s Ruthie.” A small, nervous laugh. “Did you remember to pack your toothbrush?”
    “No, Ruth,” he replied, keeping his tone light. “I don’t need one … they have plenty on the Wheel.”
    “But it might have germs …”
    “I’m sure they’re wrapped in plastic.”
    A small sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good. You can’t be too sure, and Mom always said you needed to have a clean toothbrush.”
    Passwords traded and matched. If anyone was monitoring this call, they would only hear a conversation between a brother and his doting older sister. “How’s Bert doing?” he asked.
    Bert Weinberg was Ruth’s husband, convalescing in a Houston hospital after a minor auto accident which had injured his back. Bert Weinberg despised Paul Dooley almost more than his sister did, but there was no reason why anyone at NASA should know this. “Bert’s doing okay,” the voice responded, “but the doctors don’t think he’s going to be leaving any time very soon.”
    “I see …”
    “But he says to give you his best wishes … oh, and he wants you to send him a photo of where you’re going.”
    “Does he want me to write him at the hospital?”
    “No,” the voice said. “You can send it here … and we’ll have a nice party when you get home.”
    “Are your neighbors going to be there?”
    A sigh. “I’m afraid so,” the voice said apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I had to invite them. They insisted on coming.”
    “That’s okay …”
    “But they’re not bringing their kids. I told them to leave the kids at home and you’d sign an autograph for them later.”
    “Good.” Dooley smiled. “Okay, Ruthie. I’ll be there. Tell everyone I miss them.”
    “We miss you, too, baby brother. I’ve got a big kiss for you.”
    “Okay,” he replied. “Look, I gotta go now. Everything’s fine, don’t worry about a thing.”
    “Okay … see you when you get back.”
    “Bye, Ruthie,” he said. “See you later. Bye.”
    Dooley hung up and took a moment to settle back in the desk chair and contemplate the conversation he’d just held with his masters.
    First, he had informed them that he was safely in place and that he had not been detected. That was the primary message he needed to pass them.
    Everything else was news from outside. There was now only one Paul Dooley. The other one was dead and the organization would dispose of his body in an appropriate manner. The fact that the new Dooley was now a living ghost didn’t bother him in the slightest; this had been anticipated from the moment the abduction took place. More importantly, though, he had been informed that the original Paul Dooley had told his kidnappers everything he needed to know in order to successfully complete the assignment. At a prearranged time, that information would be relayed to him.
    And finally, his primary contact was in place.
    Dooley wasn’t going to the Moon alone. The organization wasn’t taking any chances; there was a fail-safe option available, in the