Carter stroked his chin. “What in the hell?”
By this time, Esther had moved to his side. He glanced at her. Atteberry now also hovered behind.
“Any ideas?”
Esther shrugged her shoulders. “That old dump hasn’t been used in years, not since the strip mine infrastructure was built about, oh, a decade ago now.” She turned to Quigg. “Are you sure it’s not an echo from something? A ghost signal? We see those a lot in our SETI work.”
Quigg glanced at Carter, then back at Esther. “The data Titanius sent us suggests it’s real, ma’am.”
Atteberry, lurking in the background, raised his hand like a shy schoolboy.
“I recognize that frequency. It’s in the UHF amateur radio band.”
Carter glared at him. “What does that even mean?”
“Well, the UN allocates the frequency spectrum for different users, and—”
Captain Powell interrupted. “Sure, of course.” He punched up an image of the old mining site on the main viewer, back when it was operating. “Our crew must be there. We can’t be certain yet, but it definitely looks like a radio transmission.”
“The hell?”
Atteberry whispered, “Oh my god, it’s them.” He grabbed Esther by the shoulder. “It’s them, Es.”
Carter felt smothered and guided the two civilians off the bridge. “Stand back for a moment.” He huddled with Powell and Quigg, and in a low voice said, “Do you think that’s our people? That they’re somehow still alive?”
Captain Powell’s eyes lit up. “It’s one possibility, sir.”
“What, or who could it be if it’s not Braddock and the kid?”
Powell and Quigg exchanged glances.
“Well?”
The captain cleared his throat. “I suppose it’s possible someone else beat us to Luna.” He added, “I don’t know how that could happen. We’ve been monitoring the Moon since the lab went dark, and there have been no ship signatures around it at all. So, sure, it’s possible there’s someone else there, but unlikely. . . ” his voice trailed off.
Carter took a deep breath and clenched his teeth.
Could the Rossians have anything to do with this?
Atteberry slipped around to the bridge again.
“I thought I asked you to stay back?” Carter’s voice sounded a little too authoritative for his intention.
“It’s them, Mr. Carter. It’s Mary. My girl. She knows radio, and she knows the UHF band I operate on at home. She’s trying to contact me . . . I mean us, from that strip mine. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense.”
Carter worked his jaw for a moment and stared at the graphic of the mine site.
Is it possible?
“Captain Powell,” he said with deliberate emphasis, “how fast can the Echo fly?”
Powell glanced at the ship’s data flashing on the dashboard. “I—I have no idea, sir. We’ve never pushed her beyond our current velocity.”
“Well, Captain, let’s find out.” He raised his voiced. “Give me everything this boat has. Squeeze those engines until they squeal, you understand me?”
“Aye, sir.”
He turned to Atteberry and smiled thinly. “If you’re right and that’s your daughter at the mine site, we’ll find her.” Atteberry nodded and drew away again. When he had returned to his seat, Carter whispered to Captain Powell, “Could we hail them on that frequency, John?”
“Yes. The Echo’s comms cover all available bands. I can send out an automated CQ and see what happens, but . . .” he shrugged his shoulders.
“What is it?”
“If we beam a CQ to Aristoteles, those other ships may take action. They’re curiosity now is primarily focused on us and this ship, not Luna. You might want to maintain silence until we achieve lunar orbit. Another hour or two won’t make a difference, sir, since we’re limited by our own velocity.”
Carter narrowed his eyes and sighed heavily. Even though the internal conflict pulled him in every direction, he’d known John Powell many years and trusted his judgment. “All right, let’s maintain radio silence but I want you to monitor that frequency and if you so much as hear a static crash, you tell me.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Kate
“Warning. O2 depletion in ten minutes.”
Kate checked her levels, then resumed staring at the main access hatchway where sunlight carved distinct geometric shapes into the dusty floor. And, where a blue shadow also appeared.
“See? Our little friend must be back.”
Mary lifted her head and peered around. “What the hell is that, Kate? Some EM probe from the Rossian ship? It doesn’t seem to be a natural phenomenon.”
“No idea. I’ve been so focused on getting our asses rescued I’ve had no time to speculate about it.” She hated this waiting. “Ten, fifteen minutes, eh? Well, I’d like to spend my last moments checking it out rather than just waiting around to die, if it’s all the same to you.” She stood and moved toward the access hatchway. “You wanna come, Mares?”
Mary shrugged and joined her.
They exited the mining habitat and studied the dark sky, but the blue light had vanished.
“So much for that,” Mary said. “If it’s linked to the alien ship, they sure seem shy.”
Kate snorted. “Agreed. Elusive and skittish little buggers. I’m going back in.” She kicked the surface around in front of her, but didn’t move.
“Wait a sec, is that it over there?”
Kate followed Mary’s arm. She pointed toward the grey horizon where the original strip mining operations took place.
“I can’t see anything.”
“You’re looking up too much. Go right down to the horizon.”
She squinted, but still nothing jumped out at her. She cycled through the infrared spectrum on her visor, but all she detected were some shadows where a few outbuildings remained from the operations.
Outbuildings?
“Do you not see the light, Kate?”
“Never mind that. Get on the scooter.”
“But—”
“Right now, Mares! There’s something else out there.”
Kate scrambled on the LunaScoota, unplugged the solar charging cables and fired it up. Mary slipped on behind her, grabbed her waist, and the machine immediately pulled away from the ground and circled out toward the mining fields.
“Warning. O2 depletion in six minutes.”
“Do you see those buildings? They could be maintenance sheds or warehouses leftover from the mine operations. I should’ve known to check there.”
“You think there’s air inside?”
“We’ll know soon enough.” The scooter screamed over the mining fields in seconds. Machines had dredged long tracts of the moon’s surface into deep trenches. Excess, useless material was piled beside them, like levees.
Two outbuildings appeared directly ahead, and Kate throttled down and landed in front of the first. She hopped off and bounded toward it. The structure must have been 20 meters tall and at least another 30 meters long. A large roll-up door was smashed in, where at some point, Kate figured the massive extraction machines had been housed.
“Warning. O2 depletion in five minutes.”
Inside, their helmet lights surveyed the gloom. A concrete platform off on one side was the only discernible object. Kate bounded over to inspect it, but other than a dusty pair of broken tractor treads, nothing remained.
“Come on, let’s check out the other one.”
“Warning. O2 depletion in four minutes.”
The second building, not 5 meters away, squatted eerily in the dust. Waves of debris had washed up alongside it, kicked up from all the activity once upon a time, and this made the structure appear as if it had bubbled up from the lunar crust like magma. Kate figured it to be about a quarter the size of the first hangar, but unlike that structure, it had no equipment-sized door. Instead, an access hatchway like the one on the habitat appeared half-buried in rock
and soil.
“Warning. O2 depletion in three minutes.”
“Kate? My oxygen’s running out and . . . and . . . I think I should, I don’t know, pray or something.”
“We’re not done yet, Mares. Help me get this hatchway open.”
They scraped and dug around the access door, pushing debris away until she motioned for Mary to stop. A mangled external lever remained in the locked position. Kate pushed down on it with all her weight, but it didn’t budge.
“Warning. O2 depletion in two minutes.”
“It’s backwards. It pulls up. Try the other way.”
Kate yanked on the handle, but it was completely jammed and refused to yield. Then, lying on her back in the dust, she pressed upward on it with both legs while Mary pulled.
“Damn it!”
She paused, then pushed again.
“Warning. O2 depletion imminent.”
The latch didn’t budge.
In a final, desperate act, Kate kicked up on the lever with everything she could muster, and the handle shifted a fraction. Again and again, she kicked at it until, in a sudden release, the mechanism popped up and the hatchway sprung partly open.
“Quick Mares, get in and check for canisters. This is it. This is all we got.”
Mary squeezed through and Kate picked herself up and followed.
Inside, their helmet lights crisscrossed the floor and walls in a frantic attempt to find what Kate hoped might be there.
“Warning. O2 depletion imminent.”
Like the hangar, nothing remained.
“Kate?” Mary’s voice sounded hollow.
“Over there!”
On the left, a long line of storage containers leaned against the wall. Mary bounded over and pulled hard on several of them. Empty.
Kate joined her and together they ripped the doors open. Some bins spilled machine parts and other mining components, but no oxygen canisters.
“Warning. O2 depletion imminent.”
“Last two, Mary.”
She hesitated in front of one and glanced at Kate who stood aside the other. “It’s been an adventure, Kate. Thank you for being here.”
Kate nodded, choking back the lump rising in her throat. Then they threw open the container doors.
Heavy-duty bins tumbled out of each. The first one Mary opened held a pair of boots and an envirosuit. But the second fell on its side, and several dozen oxygen canisters—not the emergency kind they’d found in the habitat, but full envirosuit capacity—splayed out into the dust.
Kate’s visor flashed a multitude of warnings now, her breathing failing.
“Mary, eject my O2 case and replace it.”
“But what if—”
“It won’t matter, right?”
Kate fell on her knees, hands on thighs, and relied on her Spacer survival training to regulate her breathing and maintain her oxygen just long enough to keep going a few more seconds.
“Ready?”
Kate nodded. When her tank ejected, her visor turned solid red and warnings screamed at her, but she blocked the noise and concentrated on holding her breath and not allowing panic to creep in. She closed her eyes . . .
In a moment, fresh O2 filled her suit. She inhaled deeply and checked her vitals. All visor warnings had vanished and the oxygen level indicator on the bottom right shone a beautiful green.
She turned around. Mary had collapsed in a dusty heap beside her. Kate rolled her over onto her stomach, unlatched the empty tank and slammed a new one in.
It didn’t work.
Christ!
Mary’s visor flashed red, and she’d blacked out. Kate scrambled through the storage bins and found one last set of tanks. She grabbed the set and knocked it hard into the holder on Mary’s back. Nothing happened. She scanned the area frantically, saw only dust and empty bins around her, fell on her knees and closed her eyes.
No . . .
She unlatched the tank, reset the connector in Mary’s back, and slammed it in again. In an instant, all the warnings in her visor ceased. A few seconds later, Kate heard her breathing grow stronger and a moment after that, she came to.
Mary eased herself up into a squatting position, hands on thighs, head down, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly. She lifted her eyes.
“You . . . are . . . a goddamn . . . cat, Kate.”
They pulled each other out of the dust. Kate inspected Mary’s tank, to make sure all safety latches and seals fit properly. Then Mary did the same for her. They’d bought themselves eight hours of life and, with it, another chance to be saved. If only someone, or something, could save them in time.
Then she had an idea.
“It’s a short reprieve, Mares, nothing more. Why I didn’t think of these outbuildings before, I don’t know, but thank god the workers who came before us were sloppy and left their kit behind.” The LunaScoota hovered outside the mining habitat before Kate nestled it down into the soft dust again. Sunlight bathed this area of the Moon, and that allowed her to maximize the solar charging of the scooter’s battery.
Mary hemmed and hawed, before asking, “Kate, did you see the blue light out there or not?”
“I didn’t, but when I looked out on the horizon where you pointed, the buildings showed up on the infrared display.” She paused. “You saw something though, right?”
“Yeah, no mistaking that light for some other phenomenon. Once we got close to the buildings, I forgot about it and lost track. The blue, Kate. . . that blue . . . like no color I’ve seen before.” Mary wandered a few steps beyond the habitat’s main access hatchway and surveyed the grey and white moonscape, the pitch black sky. “Something weird is happening here, don’t you think?”
Kate joined her. “I do. It’d be great to solve the mystery of the blue light and how it’s related to the Rossian ship, but fate gave us a second chance to live, Mares. Let’s figure out our next moves.” They rummaged through the scooter’s cargo bay where they’d salvaged another tool kit from the mining outbuilding.
Just under 8 hours each.
Kate poked around the cargo area. “Options?”
Mary picked up a piece of wire cable they’d brought from the Titanius lunar lab, thought for a moment, and shrugged her shoulders. “Stay here and hope someone rescues us, or I could have another poke at the radio?” She tossed the cable back in the bay.
“Sure, but there’s something else we could do rather than hang around this dump, waiting for some savior to miraculously find us.”
“What’s that?”
Kate adjusted a tie holding back some of their tools. “Fly to the Mare Marginis. Perhaps the Rossians can help.” She lashed the new kit to the front end of the bay.
Mary hopped around the scooter, sighing. Finally, she stopped in front of Kate and said, “Well my curiosity is overloaded with the alien ship, so from that perspective, yeah, like I want to go see. Who wouldn’t? But there’s practical considerations, Kate, like, we’d pretty much use all our oxygen just getting there. And if we arrive okay, then we’ve got the same problem we had before: trying to get into that stupid thing.”
“Good points. So,” she secured some of the other loose cables, “would you prefer staying here and waiting?”
“Dammit, Kate, you’re putting this on me.”
“Not at all. If you want to stay here and wait for a ship, I’m with you.” She studied the cargo hold for any other loose bits. “But if none arrives by the time our tanks run dry, how would you feel?”
“What do you mean?”
“Mares, we’ve been lucky so far, but I don’t want to push it. If this is the end of the road, I need to know what the hell that ship is doing here, and what’s going on with that blue light. I have to understand even if I die a minute later. Do you get that?” She pointed toward the horizon. The light had returned, floating above the moon’s surface about a kilometer away.
Mary gazed at it for a moment, then shook her head. “It looks like you’re already planning to go.” She
motioned at the preparations going on in the cargo bay and muttered, “I’ll grab the other tools from the control room.”
“Does this mean you’re good to travel?”
“No, I think we should stay here,” she whispered.
Mary bounded away and disappeared into the gloom of the habitat. It was the odd change of heart that confused her. Mary had seemed fearless, curious, passionate about the world and its people. She’d cajoled her out of her own funk.
Something’s not right.
Dark shadows filled the space in the habitat when Kate entered moments later. Mary slumped on the console, her shoulders bent forward and legs dangling off the edge. Bits of destroyed radio gear lay strewn about.
“What’s up, Mares?”
Her breathing quickened in short fits. Kate remained silent, allowing her as much time as she needed to open up. A couple minutes passed.
“Two things. First, like, it would make sense that Titanius knows about the lab explosion, so they’d do whatever they could to investigate. They’d send a ship and a day or two later, it would arrive. Second, they’d find a vessel already out here to search for us, like the Aristobulus or something.” She turned to face. “Think about it. A boat could be orbiting up there right now, preparing to land or send a shuttle down any minute. If we keep playing catch the moving target, our chances of being saved could actually be worse.”
Kate chewed the inside of her lip, opening the sore already there, tasting blood. It’s not as if she hadn’t thought of these points before. One truism the Spacer Program taught her was: if in doubt, stay put and wait for help. But the passivity, the resignation of not doing something, anything, ate away at her. They had trained her to do, to constantly be in action, and sitting around waiting for others to act didn’t appeal to her at all. Not then, and not now.
She closed her eyes, clashing with feelings of remorse, guilt, and that entrenched desire for the cold burn of a knife digging into her skin.
“Does that make sense, Kate?” She turned to face her. “It kills me to sit on the sidelines, and my brain is screaming at me to shut my mouth, hop on the damn scooter, and see what those Rossians are up to. You know that, don’t you?”
Echoes In The Grey Page 22