Saucer: The Conquest by Stephen Coonts Page B

combine the nations of the world into one kingdom. He is going to end war, starvation, epidemics, hatred and fear. He is going to feed the hungry, heal the sick, lead the peoples of the world into a glorious future.”
    “By threatening to kill them with that?” Charley gestured toward the beam generator.
    “Few revolutions are bloodless. The greater good will require some sacrifices.”
    Charley Pine whistled silently, then said, “If he could manage to raise a few people from the dead, he could get himself elected messiah.”
    “I’m going to get Monsieur Artois,” Claudine cried, then whirled and started for the door. She didn’t get far. Charley grabbed her arm and jerked. As Claudine spun back around, Charley flattened her with a right to the chin.
    And felt ashamed of herself. Violence is so tacky.
    Claudine did a slow, languid backflip and slid to a stop in a crumpled heap. Her pulse was steady, and all her head bones seemed intact. Charley decided Claudine was just out cold.
    Pierre was going to be peeved when Claudine recovered enough to give him the bad news. Any way you cut it, Charley had worn out her welcome on the moon.
    She took a last long look at the beam generator and waiting power cables. “Been nice knowing you, lady,” Charley said to the comatose Claudine. “See you around.”
    Then she strode out, trying not to bounce off the ceiling in her haste, went through the open air lock to the personnel door and opened it a crack. No one was in the hallway. She made sure the door latched behind her.
    She found Joe Bob Hooker sitting by himself in the cafeteria nursing a cup of coffee. Florentin and two technicians were eating breakfast three tables away. Florentin saw Charley and nodded. She smiled at him, then dropped into a seat beside Hooker.
    “Couldn’t sleep?”
    “Huh-uh. You?”
    “Nope.”
    “How’s the Java?”
    “Strong enough to stick a fork in. The frogs can’t make decent coffee. Here or in Paris.”
    “How about showing me how to hit a golf ball?”
    “Outside?”
    “Yep.”
    He was surprised. “Now?”
    “Why not? You got something better to do?”
    “In this hole in the ground? You gotta be kiddin’!”
    “Well, let’s go.” She stood.
    He eyed her. “Okay. I’ll swing by my room and get my sticks. Got about a dozen balls left.” He dumped the coffee in the food bin to be recycled, left the cup in the dirty dishes rack and followed her out into the corridor.
    In a few minutes he joined her in the locker room. As they suited up, he said, “You ever play golf?”
    “Never had time.”
    “Worst game known to man. Gotta do it in Dallas with the bankers and dealership managers, you know. Need to know who’s who; which ones are screwing me and which ones want to. I watch ’em play for three hours and I get a pretty good idea what’s in their heads.”
    “That the way you run your business? Figure out who’s honest and who isn’t?”
    “That’s the only way.”
    When they were completely suited up, they checked each other’s suit, made sure the oxygen systems were charged and functioning properly, then headed for the air lock. Joe Bob carried the clubs. In the air lock both of them dropped their sun visors.
    The instant the air lock opened, Charley checked the spaceplane. Jeanne d’Arc was standing on her tail with the sun gleaming on her. The gantry was still in place.
    Joe Bob showed her how to hit a ball. Although their helmets contained radios, they talked back and forth by touching their helmets, freeing up their hands. Natural movement was impossible in a space suit. Still, with practice, one could approach some degree of dexterity.
    Hooker was critiquing Charley’s swing ten minutes later when the gantry elevator came down with a container on it. One man rode it down. The other operated the lift from the ground.
    Once the elevator was down, the man on the ground crossed the surface to a modified forklift. Together he and the other man drove it toward