by Homer Hickam
After stuffing his remaining coverall pockets with basalt lumps, he used the broken spiderwalker leg to pry loose eight big boulders. He carefully rolled them to the edge of the ridge, then sat down and waited in the pale Earthshine.
Before long, the crowhoppers appeared aboard their remaining three walkers. There were two of them on one walker. Spotting Maria, they moved toward her. “Keep coming, boys,” Crater said, then used the leg to tip the boulders one by one and send them tumbling down the slope. Just as the small rock had done, they hit the edge of the cliff, went flying, then landed and rolled.
Crater’s timing was good. Of the eight boulders, three struck the walkers. One of them, the biggest of the lot, struck the lead spiderwalker dead center, knocking its rider—the decan based on its three-striped helmet—into the dust. He rolled, then got up and waved the other walkers forward. Crater ran down the hill, swinging the sling above his head, then threw the stone with all his might. It struck the decan at the base of his helmet and he dropped to the dust. The remaining two walkers turned around but Crater threw rocks at their riders, hitting two of them. When he came running up, the crowhoppers slid off their walkers, threw down their rifles, and put their hands up.
Maria walked up and picked up one of the rifles. “You could have told me your plan,” she said.
“I thought you’d think it was stupid.”
“It was stupid, but I’m glad it worked.” She inspected the decan. “He’s dead. Your rock caught him in his throat. Busted open his pressure sheath. So what do we do with these three?”
“Don’t kill us!”
Crater squinted. “Is that you, Lucien?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, sir. So are Absalom and Dion.”
“That’s fine. Here’s what I want you to do. Take one of your walkers and go back where you came from. If you follow us, I will kill you. Get off my moon. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” the three chorused, then did as they were told. They made an odd sight, three black-armored crowhoppers with their helmets drooped low crowded atop a spiderwalker.
After the crowhoppers disappeared over a hill, Maria said, “What do we do now?”
“Catch up with our party.”
“You think they went on without us?”
“I’m sure they did. Crescent is second in command and she knows to get the Apps to Endless Dust.”
“Crescent is second in command?”
“Of course.”
For a reason Crater didn’t understand, his question earned him a Maria Medaris frowny face.
::: FORTY-TWO
The first thing Crater needed to do was figure out where they were. The crowhoppers had carried them eastward but, after escaping, the terrain had led them north. He asked Maria’s baby gillie to establish contact with a Lunar Positioning Satellite and it did its best, but after a few unsuccessful attempts, he concluded it didn’t know how. He decided to head generally west but which way was that?
The landmark he needed presented itself when he and Maria found themselves looking at a steep, flat-topped mountain covered with a white ashy material. “That’s the crater Bode, I’m sure of it,” Crater said to a sleepy Maria who had been napping behind him, her head resting on his air pack. “See? It looks just like an Earthian volcano cinder cone! It’s probably just an impact crater that flattened a hill, but since nobody’s ever climbed it to take a look, we don’t know for sure. Anyway, if that’s Bode, it means we’re somewhere between the Mare Vaporum to the northeast, Sinus Aestuum to the west, and Sinus Medii to the southeast, which unfortunately means we’re in a bad spot.”
Maria yawned, squinted in various directions, then asked, “Why is it bad?”
“It’s bad because if we keep going west, we’ll have to pass through a whole series of hills and ridges covered with that ashy stuff and it looks slippery. On the other hand, if we go south, we’re going to find ourselves trapped in the Sinus Medii by high mountains. There is a pass, however, if I recall correctly. If we can find it, we could turn near Frau Mauro and have a clear path to Endless Dust.”
“Frau Mauro?” Maria perked up. “Apollo 14 landed there. Nobody’s been back since, as far as I know. Could we visit it?”
Crater was always interested in visiting historical sites, especially if nobody had been there for over one hundred and fifty years, but he doubted it was a good idea and said so.
“Maybe we should just head east and work our way back to Armstrong City,” Maria said. “I’m certain our forces have recaptured it by now.”
“You forget I’m an outlaw.”
“But you saved me! The Colonel will welcome you with open arms. Trust me.”
“Maybe so but we’re going to Endless Dust. The Apps need my help and I’m not going to abandon Crescent either. Or Ike, for that matter.”
Maria tucked her right boot beneath her left leg and leaned back on the spiderwalker to stretch. “You are so hardheaded when it comes to that crowhopper girl.”
“No, I’m not,” Crater said. “I just know what I have to do.”
“All right,” Maria said after thinking it over. “I’ll go to Endless Dust with you. And you know why? Because you can’t do without me.”
Crater chose not to argue and aimed the walker generally southwestward, and for the next twelve hours, in the bluish glow of earthlight, they passed through ragged hills covered with white ash. Closer inspection revealed that there were also odd layers of white pebbles, glass spherical globules, and chunks of gray rock.
Finally, they came to a basin that was black with basalt sands. A fresh impact crater was a few miles ahead and behind it an eroded crater. If the fresh crater was the one he thought it was, a crater named Turner, they had arrived at Mare Insularum.
He woke Maria. “I think that eroded crater ahead is Frau Mauro.”
Maria studied it. “I think it is too! Oh, Crater, let’s go there!”
Crater was as curious about the site as she was. His recollection was that Apollo 14 had landed in the hills north of the eroded crater. What lay ahead was a corrugated landscape of rilles and hills with massive basalt boulders lying atop black sand mixed in with white pebbles. They crossed several rows of parallel hills, then climbed a steep bank.
At the top, Crater turned on his helmet scope and studied a dark object. “I think that’s the lander,” he said after a lengthy study. “Who flew on that mission?”
“Al Shepard and Ed Mitchell landed,” Maria said. “Shepard was also the first American in space. He flew aboard a Mercury capsule on top of a Redstone rocket. It was a suborbital hop.”
“Like one of our jumpcars.”
“Except it was good for only one flight and landed in the ocean using parachutes.” She thought about that. “I wonder why they didn’t just flip it over and land using retros like a jumpcar?”
“Because it took all their propellant just to get up to some decent altitude.”
Maria considered that, then said, “I guess people back in the twentieth century thought we’d be living on Mars by now but we’re not, except for a research station that’s visited every few years to pick up samples.”
“The trouble with Mars is it’s too far away and there’s not much there that the Earth needs,” Crater said, “unlike the moon with its Helium-3, Titanium, Thorium, and such. Anyway, before we can live on Mars, we’ve got to stop fighting these stupid wars.”
“We have to resist evil,” Maria said.
“I’m all for resisting evil,” Crater answered. “But it gets to be wearisome after a time. It seems like as soon as one evil gets stamped out, there’s another to take its place. But that’s neither here nor there, I suppose. Let’s get a little closer to the lander.”
The walker descended into a small hollow of dust, climbed another steep hill, went past several badly eroded craters, then up another hill. “It’s the lander, all right,” Crater said with rising excitement. “And look there, you ca
n see the tracks of that handcart they pulled around. There’s what they called Cone Crater. They wanted to climb it but gave up when they were only a few yards from the top because they had trouble judging distances. I’ve noticed people born on Earth still have the same problem.”
Maria grinned eagerly. “Shall we climb it for them?”
Crater grinned too. “Why not!”
They rode the walker to the base of the crater, noting the footprints the ancient astronauts had made up the side and back down again. Not wanting to disturb those artifacts, they left the walker and walked around the base, then climbed up to the rim. It only took a few minutes and they were staring into the famous Cone Crater.
“The dust here is laced with glass beads,” Crater said. “There’s likely Helium-3 inside them. Too bad they didn’t make it to the rim. A sample would have stirred up those old Earthian geologists.”
Crater and Maria sat on the rim facing the landing site. “We probably shouldn’t get too close,” Maria said. “It is a historical site, after all.”
“Agreed, but your great-grandfather thoroughly disturbed the Apollo 17 landing site as I recall from my history lessons.”
“Great-Granddaddy Jack and Great-Grannie Penny High Eagle were in a desperate situation,” Maria pointed out. “They had to use Apollo artifacts to survive. Anyway, that made the site doubly historic, considering it was the first time people had returned to the moon since Apollo.”
“And then they kept it secret for about fifty years.”
“Not counting a book called Back to the Moon, which everybody took to be fiction. And it was, too, except for the moon landing part and the Helium-3 that was brought back. A lot of people claimed that Great-Granddaddy Jack helped write that book but he always said he didn’t.”
Crater could have said with a Medaris, it was always difficult to tell where the truth ended and a lie started but he let his better angels steer him away. Instead, he said, “Time to get going.”
“How much farther to Endless Dust?”
“A couple of days.”
“Do we have enough air?”
“The walker has a spare tank of air we can replenish from if we have to. With the amount we got from the crowhoppers, it should be more than enough.”
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I’m having fun.”
Crater smiled and put his arm around her and hugged her close. He recalled now why he liked Maria so much. Any woman who thought it was fun to fight a bunch of murderous crowhoppers and then visit a historical site was decidedly a very good woman.
::: FORTY-THREE
Maria and Crater traveled south for a day. To the east, the terminator was a yellowish glow behind the tall hills. When they were just west of crater Davy, the spiderwalker gave a lurch and stopped. Crater inspected its biofuel cell and found it exhausted. “That’s it,” he said. “It’s not going anywhere.”
“How far are we from Endless Dust?”
“About fifty miles.”
“Can we walk?”
Crater considered the question. “It would take us two days to walk, even if we didn’t sleep. Our air’s okay but our water is questionable. It would be a close run thing.”
“So we walk and hope we make it?”
Crater nodded, although it was an absent nod. He knelt at one of the walker’s legs and inspected it. “Interesting,” he said. “They’re spring-loaded. That dampens the jarring whenever it steps.” Maria tossed down the food and water containers. “All right, Mr. Engineer,” she said. “You can study the design of spiderwalkers later. We’ve got a long march ahead of us.”
“Maybe not,” he said. He produced a utility tool from one of his many pockets and went beneath the walker. He snapped off a cover at the armpit of one of its legs and inspected the joint. Reasoning that the legs had to be replaced occasionally, he found a ball joint that was held in place by a thick rubberized grommet. Two steel plates held it, each bolted down by eighteen screws. Although Crater’s utility tool fit the heads of the screws, they were well torqued. Getting them loose would be exceedingly difficult without a power tool.
Crater studied the leg some more and noticed that each joint was designed to be removed. The lowest joint, the one with the foot, had a rotational hinge and only a single large bolt held it. Crater looked around for a suitable rock, spotted one, and carried it over and jammed it up against one of the legs. Then he picked up another boulder and slammed it down on the joint of the leg and broke it off.
Maria was sitting on a boulder, watching. Finally, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make us stilts,” he said, testing the spring in the tip of the broken leg joint. He tossed it to Maria. “Look in the walker utility box. There should be a roll of tape in there. Try to figure out how to attach this to your boot.”
Although she thought Crater’s idea was idiotic, Maria was glad for something to do. While he broke off three more leg joints, she experimented with the tape, then said, “We need something to stand on or the tape will slip.”
Crater gave that some thought, then remembered the friction footplates. He found them in another utility box. “I think these will work,” he said and tossed them to her.
Maria clamped them on top of the legs. They were perfect. “Sometimes I think you’re a genius,” she said.
Crater shrugged, then taped his boots to the stilts. With Maria’s help, he rose on them, teetered for a moment, then took a step, then another followed by several giant steps. With little effort, he discovered he could cross a hundred yards in a few seconds. He bounded back to Maria, who was busily taping her boots to the stilts. She stood, teetered momentarily, then took a tentative step and fell over.
“Next time hold my hand,” Crater suggested.
Maria pulled herself vertical again. Crater grabbed her hand. “Come on. Slow at first.”
Maria took a step, lurched against Crater, who held fast, then another and another. “I think I can do it on my own now,” she said.
Crater released her hand and Maria began to walk very slowly, then gradually faster. Finally, she bounded on the spring-loaded stilts and covered the entire base of a wide crater with two steps.
“Endless Dust?” Crater asked.
Maria was laughing. “Endless Dust!” she said.
::: FORTY-FOUR
They stilted until they were spent. Crater and Maria sat on a small crater rim about a mile from Endless Dust. To the east, the terminator was getting closer to the crater Alphonsus, its herald a deep red glow. Crater glanced at Maria. He could see how tired she was. “Let’s get some sleep,” he said. “No reason to arrive exhausted.”
Maria gratefully slid down the rim. She looked up at the stars. “I’ll be glad to get out of this pressure sheath,” she said.
Crater slid down beside her. “So will I.”
“I hope there’s at least one shower in Endless Dust.”
“If there is, Crescent will have it working.”
Maria kept staring at the river of stars that poured across the sky. “Tell me about her.”
“She tries to be good—which is better than most humans I know.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t like her at first. I was tired and I was angry. Actually, I’ve been angry ever since I got space burn and I don’t know why.”
“You thought I let you down and you were right. I did.”
“No, Crater,” Maria said. “You didn’t. You did your best in a terrible situation. It was a situation that my family put you in and I’m sorry for that.”
Her glove crept to his. “Forgive me?”
“Sure.”
“I’d like to kiss you.”
“We’re wearing space helmets.”
“That’s the part I really don’t like about you.”
“What part is that?”
“You’re too much the engineer. Yes, I know we’re wearing space helmets, Crater, but we won’t always be wearing them, will w
e?”
“No, we won’t,” he said, then closed his eyes. “We’re supposed to be sleeping.”
Maria agreed and it wasn’t long before she was asleep. Crater followed soon afterward. His sleep, however, didn’t last long. He woke to see someone standing over him. Crater instantly recognized who it was.
“Hello, Crater,” the figure said, then sat down on a nearby boulder. He had a friendly smile, an impish nose, and a lock of brown hair that fell across his forehead. He also wore a Soviet pilot’s green g-suit and black boots.
“Yuri Gagarin,” Crater said. “Or I should say, respectfully, General Gagarin.”
“None other than the exalted first man in space,” he replied in a thick Russian accent. “The rank was honorary, of course, since I never commanded anything including myself. Am I what you expected?”
“You’re shorter.”
“Five foot four inches in my boots. If I had been any bigger, I wouldn’t have fit in that little capsule. It is one of the reasons I was chosen. That and my natural flying abilities, of course, not that such skill was needed. My only responsibility was to keep breathing during my flight. Everything was automatic except for the last part when I jumped out of my craft and parachuted the rest of the way to the Earth.” An expression of regret passed over him. “It is too bad I never parachuted again. Had I enough altitude, it might have saved me that day my MiG crashed. But that is history and this is today and the future. I want to thank you for bringing my bones to the moon.”
“I was glad to do it,” Crater said. “I heard Czarina Sofia erected you a very nice tomb. She also commissioned a mural showing the first Russian triumphs in space.”