Dr. Cardenas was a handsome woman, from what I’d heard of her. Was Sam on the hunt again? Does a parrot have feathers?
“Okay,” he said, rubbing his hands together briskly, “now let’s get down to business.”
The firing squad was aiming at me.
“Charlie, you don’t have much experience in business administration, do you?”
Puzzled by his question, I answered, “Hardly any.”
“That’s okay. I can tell you everything you need to know.”
“Need to know for what?”
Sam looked surprised. “To manage the golf course, naturally.”
“Manage it?” My voice squeaked two octaves higher than normal.
“Sure, what else? I’ll be too busy to do it myself.”
Mai gripped my arm. “That’s wonderful!”
“And you, oh beauteous one, will be our pro, of course.” Sam announced, chuckling at his little pun.
“Me?”
Nodding, Sam replied, “Sure, you. This way the two of you can stay together. Sort of a wedding present.” Then he fixed me with a stern gaze. “You do intend to marry the lady, don’t you?”
I blurted, “If she’ll have me!”
Mai squeezed my hand so hard I thought bones would break. I hadn’t realized how strong playing golf had made her.
“Okay, that’s it,” Sam said happily. “You’ll manage the course, Charlie, and Mai, you’ll be the pro.”
“And what will you do, Sam?” Mai asked.
“Me? I’ve got to set up the company that’ll manufacture and sell nanosuits. Kris Cardenas is going to be my partner.”
I felt my jaw drop open. “You mean this whole tournament was just a way of advertising the nanosuits?”
With a laugh, Sam answered, “Got a lot of publicity for the suits, didn’t it? I’m already getting queries from the rock rats, out in the Asteroid Belt. And the university consortium that’s running the Mars exploration team.”
I shook my head in admiration for the man. Sam just sat there grinning down at us. The little devil had opened up a new sport for lunar residents and tourists, solved my legal problem, created a career for me, and found a way for Mai and me to marry. Plus, he was starting a new industry that would revolutionize the spacesuit business.
Before I could find words to thank Sam, Mai asked him, “Will you answer a question for me?”
“Sure,” he said breezily. “Fire away.”
“How did you learn to putt like that, Sam? Some of your putts were nothing short of miraculous.”
Sam pursed his lips, looked up at the ceiling, swiveled back and forth on his chair.
“Come on, Sam,” Mai insisted. “The truth. It won’t go farther than these four walls.”
With a crooked, crafty grin, Sam replied, “You’d be surprised at how much electronics you can pack into a golf ball.”
“Electronics?” I gasped.
“A transmitter in the cups and a receiver in the ball,” Mai said. “Your putts were guided into the cups.”
“Sort of,” Sam admitted.
“That’s cheating!” I exclaimed.
“There’s nothing in the rules against it.”
That’s Sam. As far as he’s concerned, rules are made to bend into pretzels. And looking up at his grinning, freckled face, I just knew he was already thinking about some new scheme. That’s Sam Gunn. Unlimited.
HIGH JUMP
When the human race begins to expand its habitat through the solar system, it won’t be only scientists and engineers who go to other worlds. There will be entrepreneurs like Sam Gunn and Dan Randolph, visionaries like Chet Kinsman and Jamie Waterman, saints, sinners, pilgrims, adventurers . . .
Adventurers. Some people make adventure their business. And what a business opportunity the hellishly hot surface of the planet Venus will be!
