by Stuart Gibbs
“Really?” All Moonies have to post videos to the MBA website once a week so people back on earth can follow our lives. It’s a big public-relations deal. I do my best to make mine interesting, but since NASA policy states I can’t say anything bad about the moon base, there isn’t much to talk about. So I usually goof around, making up stories that are obviously ridiculous, about meeting martians and fighting moondragons and such. I knew I had followers, but I’d never met one before.
“Yeah,” Kira said. “Well, I haven’t seen all of them. But most of them. They’re more fun than anyone else’s. Although your sister’s can be pretty hilarious.”
That was true. Violet has no idea what the point of the video logs is. The week before, she had simply danced around with a pair of underpants on her head while singing the Squirrel Force theme song.
“Need any help getting out of your suit?” I asked.
“Definitely.” Kira turned to her father. “Hey, Dad, this is Dash. He’s gonna help me get settled.”
Dr. Howard turned to her, still somewhat distracted, as though he’d forgotten she was even there. “Oh. All right, hon. Have fun.”
He didn’t even bother introducing himself to me. I’d stuck out my arm to shake hands, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Daddy’s a bit monofocused,” Kira explained. “He’s probably already thinking of ways to improve the base.”
“If he needs any help, I have a few thousand suggestions,” I said, then winced. I probably wasn’t supposed to bad-mouth the station to the newbies. Not right away, anyhow. I tried to cover. “Not that this place isn’t great, of course.”
Kira laughed. “I know it isn’t exactly paradise,” she whispered. “Dad’s always going off about all the mistakes they’ve made.”
I looked at her, surprised. “And you still wanted to come?”
“It’s not like I had any more choice than you did.” Kira spun around, exposing the back of her suit to me. “Can you undo this?”
Space suits are really more like suits of armor than clothing; they’re designed to protect you from danger rather than provide any comfort at all. And like suits of armor, they’re very hard to put on or take off without help. There were several Velcro strips and latches in the back of Kira’s suit. I undid everything and Kira wriggled backward out of it, emerging like a butterfly from a cocoon.
Without her suit on she seemed three times smaller. That’s true for everyone, but it seemed more evident in Kira’s case because she’s small to begin with. She was wearing a vintage Star Wars T-shirt and warm-up pants.
Kira shook her arms, getting the blood flowing after being in the constricting space suit. “Ahhh. Much better,” she sighed, then turned to me. “So where should we start the tour?”
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Starving,” Kira admitted.
“Then let’s start with the mess hall.”
“That’d be great. They told us not to eat anything in the hours before landing because it makes people nauseous and they didn’t want anyone blowing chunks all over the rocket.”
“Did anyone?”
“Dr. Kim, the geologist. Have you ever seen puke in zero gravity? It’s disgusting.”
I glanced at my mother and Dr. Kim as we passed. Mom had called it right. Dr. Kim’s clothes were stained with vomit.
I picked up Kira’s space suit and carried it toward the storage area. “Mess is this way.”
Kira started to follow me—and bounded way too high in the low gravity, soaring past me and slamming face-first into the wall.
I winced. “Sorry! I forgot to warn you: It takes a while to figure out how to walk around here.”
Kira flushed, embarrassed. “I didn’t realize how much lighter I’d be without the space suit.”
“Yeah. These things double your weight.” I slipped Kira’s suit and helmet into their racks. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. When I first got here, I did exactly the same thing.”
Kira shot me a distrusting glance. “You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “But I still had plenty of trouble. Everyone does.” I pointed to the other newbies.
They were all having problems moving about. Dr. Kim’s husband, Dr. Alvarez, had flown into a wall himself, while Viktor Balnikov had bounded so high he’d cracked his head on the bottom of the catwalk. Kira’s father was the only one who hadn’t wiped out yet—and that was only because he hadn’t taken a step.
Kira tentatively gave it another go—and still used too much force. She sailed high in the air and then crashed back to the floor. “Dang it!” she snapped. “Back on earth they said this would be easy!”
I felt terrible, hearing the frustration in her voice. It reminded me of my own, six months earlier. The realization that MBA was far worse than everyone had led her to believe was already setting in. In just a few weeks she’d be as bitter about the whole place as I was.
Only I didn’t want that to happen. Maybe I couldn’t make the moon base itself better, but I could certainly try to make life there more bearable for Kira.
I extended a hand to her. “It’ll get easier. I promise.”
The anger faded from Kira’s eyes. She took my hand. “I hope so.”
I helped her to her feet. “The trick is to barely even use your muscles. Pretend like you’re walking on eggshells.”
“All right.” Kira gingerly took a step. This time she didn’t go flying. So she took another. And another.
“There you go,” I said.
“Yeah. Three whole steps. Amazing.”
I finished storing Kira’s suit and then helped her work her way toward the mess. Normally I wouldn’t be in any hurry to eat at MBA, but whenever a rocket arrives, a small amount of fresh food comes on it. This is an incredibly transparent tactic by NASA to boost our spirits at MBA—and it always works like a charm. By the time we got to the mess, almost every Moonie had already descended on it, desperate to taste something that wasn’t freeze-dried and dehydrated.
Most of the fresh food was still on the rocket, but Katya and Buster had carried in a sack of tangerines. The fruits hadn’t weathered the trip that well—back on earth we’d have turned our noses up at them—but I would have eagerly traded a pound of gold for one.
Buster tossed two to me and Kira as we entered the mess. I held hers out to her.
To my surprise, she shook her head. “You can have it. I don’t really like tangerines.”
“Don’t pass this up,” I warned her. “You’ll regret it. Before I came here, I didn’t like tomatoes. Now if someone showed up here with a fresh one, I’d kill for it.”
Kira shrugged. “I still pass. It’s all yours.”
I wasn’t going to argue myself out of a second tangerine. I quickly slipped it into my pocket, then walked Kira through the basics of how to prepare food. Since she’d just done me a good turn, I warned her about the chicken parmigiana and tracked down a shrimp cocktail for her. Kira still wanted to practice her low-gravity walking, so rather than sit and eat, I led her around the base, trying to point out everything of interest, though I was far more focused on my tangerine than on delivering a decent tour.
There are two ways people eat fresh food at MBA. Roddy represents the first: Having no self-control whatsoever, he devours his food as quickly as possible, like a dog that’s been given a steak. I represent the second: I try to savor every last molecule. From the moment I tore off the first bit of tangerine peel, I inhaled deeply, relishing the smell. Then I ate one section at a time, resting it on my tongue, slowly sucking the juice out of it, and finally methodically chewing the pulp.
I’d only eaten half my tangerine by the time I’d taken Kira past the gym, the greenhouse, and the rec room and wound back past the residences to the main air lock. “There you go,” I said. “You’ve seen everything.”
Kira frowned. I could recognize the disillusionment setting in again. I’d felt it myself after my first tour. “That’s
it? It’s a lot smaller than I expected.”
“It’s actually just the right size,” I said, trying my best to be upbeat. “Trust me, when you’re heading to the bathroom in the middle of the night, you’ll be thankful this place isn’t any bigger.”
Kira turned to me, startled. “You mean we don’t have our own bathrooms?”
“Er . . . no,” I said, then quickly tried to change the subject. “How long are you supposed to be here for?”
“Three years, same as you.” Kira frowned, then looked to me hopefully. “It won’t be that bad, right? I mean, on your video logs you look like you’re having fun up here.”
“I am,” I told her, hoping it sounded like I meant it. “It’s not perfect, but it’s still pretty cool to be one of the first people to live on the moon.”
“Yeah. It is.” Kira nodded, then seemed to shrug off her doubts. “Hey, I haven’t seen my room yet.”
“You’re in Residence Three, right next door to my family.” I led the way to the staircase. “Careful coming up, though. Stairs are the trickiest part of low gravity.”
Kira followed. She’d already gotten much better at low-g walking on our tour, but the moment she set foot on the stairs, she stumbled. She grabbed the handrail and tried again, but wobbled and had to steady herself. “Whoa,” she said. “Why is this so hard?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Something about how we perceive our own weight gets all messed up. It happens to everyone. NASA considered building a ramp instead of stairs because they can be so much trouble, but the stairs took up less space.”
“Why were they so concerned about space?” Kira snapped. “That’s all there is up here. We’re on the freaking moon, for Pete’s sake!”
“It’s just expensive to build here, I guess. My folks say Moon Base Beta’s going to be a lot bigger.”
“When’s that gonna be finished?”
“In ten years. If we’re lucky.”
Kira sighed, then focused on the stairs. Slowly she managed to work her way up them. When she finally arrived at the top, she threw her arms in the air. “Ta-da!” she crowed sarcastically. “A whole flight of stairs in a mere five minutes.”
“Just so you know, it’s even harder going down,” I warned.
“You’re kidding.”
“No. I usually just jump over the railing.” I pointed at the floor fifteen feet below. “In low gravity you barely feel the landing. But don’t ever do it when Nina’s around. It’s against the rules, and she’ll have a fit.”
Kira grinned. “Thanks for the advice. Nina’s a tough nut, huh?”
“Yeah, but she’s . . .” I tried to think of something nice to say about Nina but couldn’t. “She’s . . . uh . . . very organized.”
“Sounds like a real winner.” Kira carefully walked down the catwalk to Residence 3, which is between my family’s quarters and the Brahmaputra-Marquez family’s. The door hung open, as keys hadn’t been issued yet.
The room looked exactly like ours. The furnishings were identical. There were even four sleep pods, because all residences had been built that way. (Inez Marquez, being the fifth member of that family, has to sleep on a pad on the floor.) The SlimScreens were off, so the walls were all moon-dust gray and dull.
“It’s much nicer once you personalize your habitat,” I said reassuringly. “We’ve got our screen set for Hawaii.”
“Right, that’s where you’re from. Must have been nice.”
Way nicer than this, I thought, but I held my tongue. “It was. Where are you from?”
“Philadelphia,” Kira said. “Although now I guess I should say I’m from the moon. Sounds cooler.”
“I can help you do the habitat settings if you’d like,” I offered. “You can even personalize the base computer’s personality for your room—”
Kira cut me off. “Thanks. But this is fine for now.” She suddenly yawned. “I’m pretty beat from the landing and all. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a nap.”
“Sure. I understand,” I said. My own landing had taken a lot out of me. I’d been jacked up on adrenaline, worried that we were going to crash on the moon. And learning how to walk in low g was pretty exhausting as well. “Take it easy, and if you need anything, well . . . it’s not like I’m leaving here anytime soon. I shouldn’t be that hard to find.”
“Thanks,” Kira said. “Catch you later.”
I backed out of the room, feeling better than I had all day. I liked Kira a lot. It was nice to have someone my own age around who wasn’t a veeyar freak like Roddy. Someone operating on the same wavelength as me.
Plus she’d given me her tangerine.
I’d originally planned to save it until the next day. That way I could extend the enjoyment. But I couldn’t wait. The last one had been too good. And if I left it in our room, Violet would probably eat it. So I unlocked my residence and slipped inside, hoping to have the whole thing to myself in peace.
To my surprise, there was a stranger inside the room.
It was a woman, around thirty or so, wearing a NASA security uniform. She was tall and beautiful, with olive skin and long dark hair.
Startled by her presence, I turned away, reaching for the door.
“Dashiell, wait!” she cried. “I need to talk to you in private. It’s about Dr. Holtz.”
I froze in surprise and turned back to her. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Zan Perfonic,” she said. “I just arrived on the rocket—and I think you’re right about Dr. Holtz. He was murdered . . . but I need your help to prove it.”
Excerpt from The Official Residents’ Guide to Moon Base Alpha, © 2040 by National Aeronautics and Space Administration:
SAFETY
Even though Moon Base Alpha is located in a hostile environment, it is one of the safest buildings ever constructed. It has been designed to withstand everything from meteor strikes to moonquakes (even though a large one hasn’t been detected in centuries), and all life-support systems have multiple backups. To further ensure the residents’ peace of mind, the entire habitat will be constantly monitored at Mission Control in Houston. This will range from computerized analysis of oxygen and carbon dioxide levels to physical observation via cameras installed in all rooms. In the extremely unlikely event that something should go wrong, Mission Control will instantly address the problem, either by fixing the issues remotely (such as computer glitches) or providing technical support for anything that must be handled on-site.
Of course, the monitoring systems can also be used to address issues of a criminal nature. But given the exceedingly careful selection process for the lunarnaut program, there is virtually no chance of any such events arising at all. MBA isn’t just the safest colony on the moon—it’s one of the safest human colonies, period!
SECRET MISSION
Lunar day 188
Afternoon
I was so startled, I forgot all about the tangerine in my pocket. I reflexively locked the door and asked, “How did you get in here?”
“Everyone in security has a master key,” Zan explained. “I know coming in here like this was wrong, but I didn’t know what else to do. It’s of great importance that no one see me talking to you.”
“Why?” I asked.
Zan waved to the InflatiCubes arranged around our SlimScreen table. “Sit down. Eat your tangerine. This might take a while to explain.”
I sat and Zan sat across from me. “How’d you know I had a tangerine?”
“I can smell it.”
I pulled it out of my pocket. “Do you want any?”
Zan smiled. When she did, her whole face seemed to light up. “That’s very nice of you to offer, but it’s yours. I had several on the rocket.”
I started to peel the fruit. “Why do you think Dr. Holtz was murdered?”
Zan stared at me, as though trying to decide where to begin. Now that I was close to her, I noticed that her eyes were extremely unusual. They were an amazingly brilliant blue that reminded me
of the shallow water above the coral reefs in Hawaii. Just looking at them made me feel homesick.
“Before I get into that, there’s something you ought to know,” Zan told me. “Although I work for the security division, I’m not here as an investigator. My official duty is to upgrade and assess the base security systems.”
“You’re a temp,” I said.
“Right. When the rocket returns to earth in two days, I’ll be on it. And I don’t have any authority to investigate crimes here. That’s Nina’s jurisdiction.”
“But Nina says there wasn’t a crime at all,” I pointed out.
“So I’ve gathered. Which is unfortunate, because I think she’s wrong.” Zan suddenly locked her bright blue eyes on mine. “There’s something very suspicious about Dr. Holtz’s death.”
I hesitated before responding. After all, I’d just met Zan and wasn’t completely sure whether or not to trust her. I wondered if this was all a trick of some sort, something Nina had cooked up with NASA to see if I was going to disobey a direct order from her. So I tried to be as cautious as possible. “Why do you say that?”
“I knew Ronald,” Zan replied. “Quite well, in fact. He would never have done something so risky as a solo moonwalk. Not when death was a possibility. Living at this base was his dream, the culmination of his life’s work. . . .”
“Maybe he was going crazy,” I said, echoing Roddy. “Maybe he got some sort of space madness.”
“If that had been the case, he wouldn’t have kept it a secret. And there were no indications that he was losing his mind. In fact, according to his most recent medical reports Dr. Holtz was in complete control of his mental faculties. He wouldn’t have gone out that air lock alone on purpose. Especially not right now. Not with what he was working on.” Zan suddenly lowered her eyes and bit her lip. It looked like she was about to cry.
I decided this wasn’t a trick Nina had cooked up. Zan was genuinely upset about Dr. Holtz’s death. “You know about that?” I asked.
“I know he was on the verge of revealing something exciting, but that’s it.”