The Moon Platoon

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The Moon Platoon Page 3

by Jeramey Kraatz


  “All right, let’s see what they’ve got lined up for us. I hope I’m on the top floor or else . . .”

  His mouth hung open like he had something else to say, but no words came out.

  “Drue, what are you—”

  “Shhh, shh, shh, Benny,” Drue said, shaking his head and nodding forward.

  It was only then that Benny realized Drue was looking at two girls unloading their Space Runner a few yards away from them. One was petite, with black hair cut into a short bob. The other girl was hoisting an overstuffed piece of luggage out of the backseat. A mountain of blond curls fell over her shoulders and added a few inches to her already impressive height.

  “It just seems really . . . fragile,” the blonde said. “Like, I’m a little freaked out that some idiot is going to throw one of these rocks at it and then it’s bye-bye life because I’m sucked out into space.”

  “The glass is really a secondary defense against outside elements,” the other girl said. “Mostly for show. It’s not even glass, but a practically indestructible polymer created by Elijah and his researchers. Besides, if something did happen and the dome was breached, you’d need to be much more worried about all the oxygen getting sucked out, not you.”

  The blonde frowned. “You’re not making me feel any better.”

  Drue poked Benny with his elbow. “I think we just met our first Moon friend.”

  “Let me guess,” Benny said. “The blonde with the purple bag that looks like it’s about to explode?”

  “Psh,” Drue scoffed, heading toward the girls. “Dream bigger, Benny.”

  “Huh?”

  But Drue was already several steps ahead of him. Benny followed, half because he didn’t know what else to do, and half because he figured there was a high probability that Drue was about to embarrass himself, and that he kind of wanted to see.

  “Hey, there,” Drue said when he was just a few feet away from the girls. Both turned and stared back at him, confused. “I’m Drue Bob Lincoln.”

  “I’m Jas—” the shorter girl began.

  “Jazz.” He shoved his hand out. “That’s a cool name.”

  She started to protest but he ignored her, turning to the blonde. “You?”

  “Hot Dog,” she said flatly, raising one eyebrow and pursing her lips. “And you interrupted my friend here.”

  The other girl glanced at Hot Dog as if surprised for a second, before turning back to Drue, her eyes penetrating, sizing him up.

  “I didn’t mean to!” Drue said, flashing a smile at Jasmine. “Please, tell me more. Where’re you from?”

  “My name is Jasmine,” she said. “Jasmine Wu. And, I’m sorry, did you say ‘Drue Bob Lincoln’? As in, the senator?”

  Drue shrugged.

  “Technically I’m Drue Bob Lincoln the third. The senator’s my father.”

  Benny wasn’t exactly surprised about this news. It at least explained a lot of what Drue had said in the car. Neither of the girls seemed impressed, though, and as Drue winked at Jasmine, Benny wondered if it would be best to just slink away and abandon his travel mate.

  “I noticed your necklace,” Drue continued, pointing to the gleaming silver charm around her neck, a stylized W breaking out of a triangle, with a small black diamond in the center. It was the same design as the hood ornaments on the original Space Runners. “That . . .” Drue laughed a little, shaking his head. “What am I thinking? It’s not real, right? Elijah only had one hundred of those made for the original Space Runner engineers. I’ve been trying to track one down for years.”

  Jasmine’s hand went up to the necklace, gripping it as she stared at Drue. “A senator’s son . . .” Her eyes narrowed a little. “You must be the reason there are a hundred and one of us and not a hundred,” she said. The look she gave Drue wasn’t a glare, exactly. More a combination of disappointment and disgust.

  Drue straightened his back.

  “I deserve to be up here just as much as you do,” Drue said.

  “Right.” Hot Dog looked him up and down, nodding at his suit and floating luggage. “So you’re some rich kid senator’s son who decided you wanted a vacation. I hope you at least had to pay for your ride.”

  Drue’s mouth hung open, but he didn’t seem able to form any actual words. As much as Benny was enjoying this, he figured he should introduce himself and maybe save Drue some face.

  “Uh, I’m Benny. I was in the same Space Runner as Drue.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s Ramona on the ground. I think. She’s . . . interesting. So, you’re Jasmine and . . . Hot Dog? That can’t be your real name, right?”

  “Of course not,” Hot Dog said.

  “Where’d you get the nickname?”

  She tossed her hair.

  “Get me behind the wheel of a Space Runner and you’ll find out for yourself.”

  “Uh,” Jasmine said, gesturing behind Benny. “Guys?”

  Benny turned to find a vehicle unlike any he’d ever seen shooting into the Grand Dome from the entrance tunnel. It was a deep, shiny crimson and had a body similar to that of the Space Runner he’d just been in, only thinner. There was something else weird about the car, too. None of the Space Runners Benny had ever seen used wheels. On Earth, they floated above the streets just as easily as they did through space. Since the hyperdrives inside altered gravity and provided propulsion, there was no reason to include tires in the design other than ones that stayed up inside the car’s body, and those were deployed only in emergencies. But the Space Runner speeding out of the entrance tunnel had three black spheres on the bottom—two in the back, one in the front—rolling over the ground.

  And it was rocketing straight toward them.

  “Look out,” Jasmine shouted, jumping back and almost knocking Benny down.

  As fast as the car was going, there was likely no chance they could get out of its way in time. Still, Benny moved on instinct. In one swift motion he had Jasmine and Hot Dog’s arms and was pulling them away as Drue yelped for help.

  Just as the vehicle was within a few yards of Benny and the others, it turned sharply and slid sideways. In the second before it should have crashed into them, there was a low thumping sound and a flash of light from underneath the car, and then it was in the air, rotating. Benny could swear he heard screaming from inside as it spun over his head.

  The car flipped a few more times, clearing the lined-up Space Runners. It landed, twisted back to its original direction, and then finally came to a complete stop directly in front of the steps leading up to the Lunar Taj.

  “Dude!” Drue said, bolting toward the new arrival and leaving the others behind.

  “You okay?” Benny asked the girls. He realized he was still holding their arms, and quickly let go, shoving his hands into the pockets of his space suit. Jasmine nodded warily. And Hot Dog just laughed for a second before darting off herself.

  By the time Benny pushed through the crowds to get to the car, he found Drue wedged halfway underneath its bumper, scoping out the undercarriage. Hot Dog stood a few feet away from it, eyes full of admiration.

  “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said.

  The passenger door opened, folding back and into the car as if the entire construction were an elaborate piece of metal origami.

  “Ohmigosh,” Hot Dog whispered beside Benny, the syllables stringing together into one word.

  A woman stepped out, wearing what appeared to be hundreds of draped layers of gauzy white fabric that made her look as if she was enveloped in a cloud.

  “No way! Is that really her?” Hot Dog asked. Then she gasped, covering her mouth with both hands and muffling her voice. “Her hair’s metallic. And she’s got antigravity hair clips in! Look at it float! It’s like she’s underwater!”

  The woman looked very, very unhappy.

  “. . . drives like a maniac . . .” Benny heard her say as she stomped away from the car.

  “Is she famous or something?” he asked.

/>   “Uh, yeah.” Hot Dog’s eyes went wide. “She won the last season of Heartthrob or Hologram?!”

  Benny looked back to the woman, who was now all smiles as she posed for pictures and holovids with some of the other kids who had definitely recognized her. In seconds, two chicly dressed people darted out of the Taj’s front doors and were corralling all the EW-SCAB winners into one big photo op.

  Hot Dog started forward to join them, but stopped after a few steps, turning her attention back to the car. Meanwhile, Drue crawled out from under the Space Runner and started to walk around it, letting his fingers smudge the thin layer of Moon dust that had settled on the vehicle.

  “This must be some kind of prototype,” he whispered in reverence. “Check out this paint job. I think those ghost flames are made of microscopic LED particles.”

  He didn’t seem to notice the pilot’s-side door folding open, but Benny did. A man stepped out, the gold tips of his black cowboy boots glinting as gravel crunched beneath his feet. Benny instantly recognized the guy’s trademark facial hair: a close-cut reddish-brown beard with three horizontal lines shaved into each side.

  Elijah West.

  4.

  Elijah West was barely out of the car before two people in matching black coveralls were by his side. Both of them had long, slender noses that looked as though they’d been broken and reset at awkward angles. The man was at least six foot four—a bald mountain. The woman was shorter and built sturdily, the kind of person Benny would have liked to have with him when lugging around scrap. She definitely wasn’t from the Drylands, though. The left side of her head was shaved, and the rest of her short, dyed-magenta hair was pushed to the right.

  “She runs like a dream, but the acceleration’s got a ways to go,” Elijah said, taking off a pair of black driving gloves with gold studs on the knuckles. He tossed them and his keys to the big guy in coveralls. As he continued, the woman pulled out a HoloTek and made notes. “Let’s punch up the horsepower. The new wheels are better, but we’re going to need a different tread or more weight because I’m sliding all over the dust out there.” He pulled off a fur-lined coat to reveal a dark red space suit covered in intricate stitching that pulsed with light. “And the brakes are too sensitive. The whole driving experience is just a little too . . . smooth. I want to feel like I’m behind the wheel of a muscle car, not a luxury SR.”

  “Maybe we should work on a motor and antigravity combo propulsion system?” the woman asked, not looking up from the screen.

  Elijah smirked as he pushed a pair of aviator sunglasses to the top of his head to reveal big, hazel eyes.

  “Now you’re speaking my language, Ash.”

  “Bo and Ashley McGuyver,” Hot Dog whispered. “The best mechanics in the universe.”

  Benny wasn’t sure if she’d been talking to him or herself. He was still in a state of shock. He’d been on the Moon for all of five minutes and he’d already nearly been hit by a car and was standing within a few yards of Elijah West. Fortunately, the Heartthrob or Hologram? celebrity and her assistants were still taking photographs with their backs to the courtyard, meaning most of the kids hadn’t realized Elijah was there.

  “Good news,” Ash continued. She motioned to the bigger guy. “Bo’s finished retrofitting that Chevelle you had shipped up. She’s ready for a spin outside the resort whenever you are.”

  A smile took over Elijah’s face. “I’ll take her out now.”

  “Oh, no you don’t!” a woman’s voice came from somewhere behind Benny.

  Elijah frowned—just for a flash. Benny turned around in time for a woman wearing a tailored pink suit to walk through him.

  The chill that went down his back was so strong he thought for a second his knees might give out.

  “Whoa,” Hot Dog said beside him. “Ghost woman on the Moon.”

  But it wasn’t a ghost. Benny turned back around to get a better look at what he guessed was an incredibly realistic hologram, way more advanced than his spider back on Earth. There must have been a swarm of microscopic hover-mechs projecting her image from somewhere.

  “Pinky,” Elijah said, his smile coming back, “why do you sound so upset? Don’t tell me Trevone’s been trying to hack you again. You know it’s only to look for flaws in your security.”

  “I do not have security problems, thank you very much. Of course, you’d never know if I did because you had me muted.”

  “You kept trying to get me to do things I didn’t want to.” Elijah shrugged. “Besides, you do have the capability to unmute yourself.”

  Her hands curled into small, tight fists before motioning for Elijah to follow her away from the Taj and around one side of the fountain so they could talk more quietly—and so they wouldn’t be in the background of all the photos still being taken at the entrance. Benny crept around the other side of the big metal hand, trying to figure out where Pinky’s image was being projected from.

  Pinky took a deep breath, tucked a strand of white-blond hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear, and continued. “I had to explain to three European royals, half a dozen internet TV egos, and the CEO of HoloTek Japan that they’d all have to leave in preparation for our scholarship arrivals without getting to talk to you in the flesh. Even though you’d apparently promised all of them that you’d see them off personally. If you had actually bothered to tell me you weren’t going to be here . . .”

  “Relax, Pinky,” Elijah said. “I’ll handle everything. And besides, you were the one who suggested I take that woman out for a tour.”

  “Yesterday,” Pinky said. “You were scheduled to take her out yesterday. And don’t think I didn’t see that you went on a short joyride instead of out to see the old Moon landing site like you were supposed to.”

  “Not short enough,” Elijah said, glancing over his shoulder. “If I had to listen to her talk about her burgeoning singing career any more, I’d have walked out of the Space Runner without a helmet on. Speaking of which, will you make sure she and her handlers are on the transport back to Earth with the last of the guests and seasonal staff in an hour?”

  “Impressive tech,” Jasmine said from Benny’s left. He hadn’t even realized she’d come up beside him. The water in the fountain must have covered the noise of her footsteps.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Impressive, angry tech.”

  “At least the EW-SCABers got a few pics with her,” Elijah continued.

  “Please don’t call them that,” Pinky said. “It sounds so disgusting.”

  “What? I think it’s funny.”

  “I don’t know why I even bother making schedules if you’re just going to ignore them.” Pinky sighed.

  Elijah smiled at her. “You’re being dramatic.”

  “No. Not yet, but I’m about to be. There’s something else. Take a look at the readings we’ve gotten from the deep space probes. I found some anomalies that at first we thought were solar winds but now . . . well, I’m not sure what they are.”

  Elijah tapped once on a slim band wrapped around his right wrist, and a series of graphs appeared in front of him. They were made of light, but he swiped through them as if they were tangible.

  “How is he doing that?” Benny whispered.

  “Must be some kind of motion sensor,” Jasmine surmised.

  With each swipe, Elijah’s eyebrows drew closer and closer together until finally they were almost touching. Benny watched the graphs pass by, but they might as well have been in a foreign language to him.

  “You’re sure there hasn’t been an equipment malfunction?” Elijah asked. “These readings don’t make any sense.”

  “All probes are functioning normally. I’ve triple-checked everything,” Pinky said.

  “What is that?” Jasmine asked. She put one foot up on the side of the fountain to lean forward and get a closer look at the projections, knocking a few rocks into the water as she did so.

  Elijah glanced over his shoulder and did a double take, pushing the charts out
of the way with one wave of his hand.

  “Jasmine Wu,” he said. He nodded to her necklace. “You got my gift. I’m glad.”

  She froze, staring up at him.

  “Y-you know who I am?” she stammered.

  “Your suggested changes to our manufacturing process for hyperdrive engines increased productivity by three percent,” he said. “Of course I know who you are.”

  “Technically it was a little less than three percent,” she murmured.

  Elijah didn’t smile, exactly—it was more of a look of approval, Benny thought.

  Drue was suddenly pushing past Jasmine and extending his hand to Elijah.

  “Mr. West. It’s an honor. You may remember meeting me last year. I just wanted you to know that—”

  “I know who you are, though not because we’ve apparently met,” he said. Then he turned away from Drue and nodded to Pinky. “Prepare a report for me on these charts. I’ll review them before dinner.”

  “Elijah,” she said, “there are guests waiting for you. The charts. Where are you—”

  “They can wait, Pinky. Right now I’ve got a date with an American classic.”

  And then he was heading toward big frosted-glass doors that led into the garage, Pinky and the McGuyvers trailing after him. Now it was easy for Benny to see why he’d thought the building glowed from space: the exterior was covered in the same highly reflective metal as the Space Runners.

  Benny looked at Drue, who was still standing perfectly still, his hand held out even though Elijah was gone. Finally he let it drop, and his face softened a little. Benny saw something flash in his eyes. When he spoke again, he sounded friendlier. “So, Jazz, you really helped him overhaul his manufacturing?”

  “It was nothing,” Jasmine said as she shoved her necklace inside her space suit, avoiding looking any of them in the eyes.

  “Really? Because it sounded pretty impressive.”

  “It was just a matter of having a specific outcome in mind and looking at all the possible ways I could get to it.”

  “Wait,” Drue said. “Are you the person who suggested that they recycle the fission coolant to be used as secondary radiation shielding?”

 

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