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  MOONDANCE

  by Brian Plante

  JERRY NOONAN NOTICED the damage to his robot immediately at the start of the

  shift. In his RC rig at home in New Jersey, he raised and lowered his arm,

  but on the Moon the corresponding manipulator flopped about uselessly. It

  also hurt like hell, and he had to turn down the feedback circuit until the

  arm felt nearly dead. Some sort of accident had left its metal skin deformed,

  and the servo motors were responding erratically. The bastard on the previous

  shift had messed him up good.

  The job of raising and joining the huge cables that would support the dome

  over the Huygens crater was grueling work, and Jerry was damn well not going

  to work an entire shift with a bum manipulator arm. He radioed the problem in

  to his unit chief and was given permission to take his robot over to the

  repair shop. Better to spend a few hours in the shop getting a new arm than

  struggling with the thing for a whole shift. Damage among the robots was not

  uncommon in a job like the doming of Huy gens crater, and Jerry had been to

  the repair shop a few times before, but this time he met Audrey.

  "Aww, did the big burly cable-hauler hurt his poor little paw?" a feminine

  voice from the inverted funnelshaped repair robot spoke into his earpiece.

  Swell, Jerry thought. A lady robot mechanic.

  "It was like this when my shift started," he said.

  The repair meth circled once around Jerry's barrelshaped body, looking over

  the damage before cradling his broken manipulator in its own metal arms.

  Jerry could not tell how many legs this meth had under the round bumper

  "skirt" of its body, but he noticed how the meth wiggled from side to side

  as it moved, a most unusual gait for a robot. It was an incongruously

  feminine walls.

  "Wow, you really did a number on this arm," the meth said.

  "I said I didn't do it," he responded. Even though she handled his manipulator

  gently; Jerry pulled away sharply, as if he were hurt. With the transmission

  lag, his robot did not mirror the more for another second and a quarter, but

  all the lunar robot operators were used to dealing with the time delay. "The

  operator before me left it like this. If I could work around it, Id leave it

  like it is, so the bastard would have to deal with it on his own shift."

  The mech moved forward to scoop up the broken manipulator again, this time a

  bit more forcefully, making Jerry wince with pain back home in his RC unit.

  "Hey, I just fix them," the meth said. "Nothing personal, okay, buddy?"

  "Jerryy. My name is Jerry Noonan."

  "Pleased to meet you, Jerry Noonan. I'm Audrey."

  "Audrey. You know, we don't get too many female operators up here on the Moon."

  Audrey chuckled and said, "and at these prices you won't get too many more."

  "Huh?" Jerry mumbled.

  "You know, the old bar joke about the talking kangaroo."

  A joke? I'm sorry, I don't get out too much anymore. Not to bars, anyway."

  "Too bad. Bars can sometimes be . . . useful," Audrey said as she attached a

  wire harness into the test socket of his damaged arm. She walked her robot

  over to a console on the other side of the room, again bouncing and swaying

  in her unusual fashion.

  "You walk funny for a robot," Jerry said.

  "Funny?"

  "Not funny ha-ha. Just different for a robot. It's kind of a girlish walk."

  "Hmmm. Being a woman, I suppose I can live with that. You better turn down

  the sensitivity on that arm now, or this might hurt a bit."

  Jerry just barely felt a jolt of power surge through the manipulator before

  he turned off the feedback. Without him controlling it, the arm began

  flailing up and down under the mechanic's overriding commands.

  "That didn't come out right," Jerry said. "I like the way you walk. It's

  very feminine, if a pointy, metal cylinder can be feminine. Do you move like

  that on purpose, or is it just the way you walk naturally?"

  "Hmmm. I've never thought about it too much, so I suppose it's natural.

  Probably something carried over from my dancing."

  "You're a dancer?"

  "Not a ballet dancer or anything like that," Audrey said, bouncing back over

  to Jerry's side. "Just some social dancing on the weekends. Jerry, this arm

  is shot. I'll just replace the whole thing, okay?"

  "Yeah, whatever it needs. Do young people still go out dancing much these

  days? It's been so long since I've been out, but I used to go dancing before-"

  Jerry was about to say "Before I was married," but just then she popped off

  the fault, manipulator, and he fell silent as he gaped into the empty socket

  where his arm had been.

  Audrey shimmied over to an equipment locker and unpacked a replacement

  manipulator. "All kinds of people go out dancing," she said from across the

  room. "Not just young people. It's a very human thing to do."

  "I don't know," Jerry said. "I guess it was fun when I was the right age for

  it, but you get older and settle down."

  "I certainly hope not," Audrey answered. "It's when you stop doing young

  things that you start getting old."

  "Hmm. Maybe you're right, but I just don't feel like going out much anymore."

  "Come on. You don't sound so old to me.

  "How old do you think I am?"

  "You sound too young to be sitting at home. What are you, thirty-five? Forty?"

  Back home in his RC rig, Jerry smiled. He was fifty-three and feeling ten

  years older. In his younger days, he had not been unattractive, but he had

  developed a paunch from so many years of inactivity; and the few hairs on his

  head that hadn't fallen out yet were decidedly gray.

  "Yeah," he lied. "Forty. What are you, late twenties or so?"

  "You know you're never supposed to ask a lady that question."

  "Yeah, I suppose. Sorry."

  "But if it's any help, the manufacturing sticker on my chassis says I was

  made in 2038."

  "Very funny."

  "So why aren't you laughing? Lighten up, McGraw."

  Jerry fell silent as Audrey quickly installed the new arm and tested it with

  her instruments. Perhaps he was being an old stick in the mud, but this was,

  after all, the workplace. Jerry goosed up the feedback a bit while she still

  cradled the new arm, and he imagined a flesh-and-blood person holding his arm,

  instead of the cold titanium and carbon fibers.

  "Where are you working from, Audrey?" he asked.

  Audrey lifted his arm carefully, checking her instrument readings, then

  gently lowered it to his side. "Me?" she said. "New Jersey."

  "You're from Jersey? Me, too. What part?"

  "Woodbridge."

  "Woodbridge! I'm over in Edison. That's only a few miles away. How's that for

  a coincidence?"

  "Well, the Huygens project recruited pretty heavily in central Jersey, so

  there's bound to be lots of us from the area here."

  "Audrey, we're practically neighbors. Well, then, where is this place you go

  dancing? Maybe I know it."

  "Mostly at the Candy Bar on Rout
e Nine. It's across from the Pharmatex

  building."

  "Yeah, I know it. I used to go there once in a while when I was a lot younger.

  I wonder if the place is still the same as I remember."

  "There's one way to find out. Why don't you come around and check it out for

  yourself?"

  "Well, maybe I will," Jerry said, although he couldn't realistically see

  himself entering a dance club at his age.

  "Good. Perhaps I'll see you there, then," Audrey said.

  "Umm . . . what nights do you go there, and how would I recognize you?"

  "Oh, I'm there a lot. Fridays and Saturdays, mostly. If you come, I'll find

  you. I promise."

  Jerry wanted to stay and talk a bit more, but the new arm was checked out and

  ready to go. His crew would be looking for him before too long.

  "Audrey?"

  "Yes?"

  "Could you just walk around the room one more time for me? I think it's

  really cute how you make that robot move."

  "Hmmm. Okay. How's this?"

  Audrey, sashayed with an exaggerated bump and grind to the middle of the room,

  her arms held out slightly on either side. She finished with a pirouette and

  then curtsied.

  "Just beautiful. I can't wait to tell the guys about this -- a robot with a

  sexy, walk. Audrey, you're priceless."

  "See you around, tall, dark, and shiny."

  THE WEEKS went by at work, and one by one the big cables were hoisted into

  place along the crater's rim as the big spiderweb took shape. Each new workday

  was just like the last, and Jerry liked it that way. He had mentioned to his

  wife Dana that he had heard the Candy Bar was still a popular spot, but she

  just shrugged and said that dance clubs like that were for young people. Jerry

  grimly agreed and quietly went back to his rut.

  One day a cable with a bad splice in it let go explosively as weight was being

  applied. The free end whipped around and brushed a couple of Jerry's robot

  legs, snapping them off like matchsticks. He still had four mechanical walker

  legs remaining, and while he was not stable enough for work duties, Jerry

  was able to limp the robot over to the repair shop. The robot mechanic wiggled

  over in a familiar gait to greet him.

  "Hey, robot 60148. Is that you in there, Jerry?"

  "It's me, Audrey. Couple of missing legs this time."

  "So I see. Well, that'll surely put a crimp in your dance step."

  Jerry looked away guiltily. "Were you looking for me at the Candy Bar?"

  Audrey went to the locker and retrieved a couple of leg units. Her robot

  glided back to Jerry smoothly, without the usual bouncing around, and she

  began installing the new legs.

  "I was disappointed that you didn't show up at the club," she said, "but it's

  okay. I have lots of dance partners."

  "I really did mean to come out there, but I just couldnt convince my... myself."

  "So you chickened out. Happens to the best of them, I'm afraid."

  "Audrey, if an older guy like me showed up at the Candy Bar. wouldn't people

  stare?"

  "Maybe if you were a really bad dancer they would, but forty's not so old."

  Audrey popped the two new legs into the empty sockets and began testing them.

  "I, um, wasn't quite honest about that," Jerrv said. "Actually, I'm closer

  to fifty."

  "It still wouldn't matter. It's how young you feel that counts. You come to

  the club, and you'll be surprised."

  "Are there many older people at the Candy Bar?"

  "A few. Nobody thinks they're strange, and they seem to have a good time. Why

  are you fighting with yourself over this? Just come on out and see for

  yourself. Stop being so ... old."

  "I'm a little rusty, no pun intended. If I came to the club, would you dance

  with me?"

  "Oh, Jerry, it's not a contest or anything. I'll dance with you right now if

  you'd like. Come on, your legs are all fixed."

  "Here?"

  "Number 60148, may I have this dance?"

  "Um, how about some music?"

  "Music? Sheesh. Hold on a sec."

  Audrey's manipulators slumped, and the robot sank an inch or two onto its

  skirt. Jerry figured that Audrey must have slipped out of her rig back in

  New Jersey and her robot was unmanned. A few seconds later the mech came

  back to life, and music began playing in Jerry's headset.

  "Audrey, what did you do?"

  "I just patched my home audio rig into the headset and found a disc to set

  the mood. Sorry I can't seem to light any candles up here, though."

  The music was a Billy Joel classic that was already an oldie back in Jerry's

  courting days. Dana and he had danced to this one for the last time at

  their wedding reception.

  "Take my hands, silly," Audrey said, snapping him back to Huygens.

  Jerry clumsily reached over and lightly took two of Audrey's manipulators in

  his. His sensors felt the. cold alloy and polycarbonate resins, but he

  perceived a warmth, perhaps a false triggering of his robot's feedback

  circuits, as he put an arm around the top of Audrey's metal torso.

  They moved together clumsily at first. With the transmission lag, the robots

  were both a step behind the music, but Audrey bounced lightly to the beat and

  Jerry struggled not to crash into her. After a minute, he realized that they

  were moving well together, dancing around the repair shop, touching but not

  knocking into one another. She was skilled at following his shaky lead,

  anticipating his moves even with the time lag, and pulled him closer as they

  spun around the room.

  "I'm not much of a dancer, am I?" Jerry said.

  "These robots just aren't made for it, but you're doing fine," she whispered

  in his earpiece.

  In a few short minutes, the music ended and the two of them stood there,

  looking at one another.

  "This is too weird," Jerry said, breaking the mood. "I have to get back to

  my crew."

  "See you at the Candy Bar this weekend?" she asked.

  "Maybe. If I come, you'll really dance with me, right?"

  "If my dance card's not all filled up."

  Jerry wondered if that was really a joke. Perhaps she already had a steady

  partner. And if she was as attractive as her voice sounded, the young men

  were probably swarming all over her. It wasn't like he was seeking romance,

  since he loved his wife, but he was curious to see if he could still attract

  a pretty young thing even if just for a dance. When she got a good look at

  him she might not be so interested.

  "Well, thanks for the dance, but I have to get back now," he said.

  As he walked toward the door, he heard her mutter, "Men!"

  FRIDAY NIGHT after his shift, Jerry was feeling restless.

  "What are you doing now?" Dana asked, after he had stood before his open

  closet door for a full five minutes.

  "Just looking. Thinking."

  "About clothes? Are you feeling all right?"

  "I was thinking that if I wanted to go out to a place like the Candy Bar

  would I have anything even remotely appropriate to wear? Most of these old

  things are hopelessly out of fashion now, and I probably couldn't fit into

  a lot of them anyway."

  "Oh, no, you're not going to start in on that again, are you?" Dana said.<
br />
  "This is just one of those silly midlife crises where you 're trying to

  recapture your youth, you know."

  Jerry stuck his tongue out at her. "I asked if people our age ever go to

  the Candy Bar, and I heard that it was okay."

  "You weren't expecting me to come along, were you?"

  "No. Not really."

  "Well. what were you thinking? You weren't planning on going out by yourself,

  were you?"

  "Um. yes. That is, if you won't come along with me."

  Dana just stared at Jerry silently, looking hurt. Then she pursed her lips,

  and Jerry knew she was gauging his sincerity. He hardened his face into

  a mask of resolve to let her know he was serious.

  "Okay," Dana said, "why don't you wear something relatively simple? Khaki

  slacks, a dress shirt. You can probably still get into the navy blazer if

  you don't button the front."