Ice Shadows

by W. R. Heustis

  Oddly though, once I was close enough to distinguish who it was, I let out a sigh. It wasn’t Ted; it was D. He was next to the lift rover glancing at the ground. I drove up next to him but knew we couldn’t communicate. Due to Ted’s intervention, we were no longer on the same frequency. When D realized I was there, he gazed at me curiously. He used the stylus for his iPad and wrote a question on it: “Why were you here? I can see your tracks?”

  I followed D’s example and wrote a response on my iPad: “I was here early and on my way to do water/ice investigation.”

  He quickly responded: “No, seriously, why were you here?” He then nodded at the module that was now activated. I knew he was on to me. But what could I say? Did I want to concoct some sort of lie to deter my closest associate? Had he already seen the escape vehicle and had a pretty good idea of what I was up to? I hesitated to reply.

  D then wrote: “Whatever it is, you have to be more careful about leaving obvious tracks.”

  I nodded in agreement, but then had an idea. “If anyone asks, tell them that I needed an emergency module in case my research takes me beyond reasonable limits or out of reach of my current living module. If tyrant Ted asks, tell him that—or in case he thinks I’m trying to escape one crater at a time.” The moment I wrote that last bit, I knew it was meant as a joke but with a lot of truth attached to it.

  D nodded and half-smiled. I could tell, however, that he wasn’t convinced. What with asking for Ted’s birth date, D knew full well that I was up to something. Regardless, I wasn’t ready to show my cards just yet. If he didn’t know, he could honestly say that when questioned later. Besides, I didn’t want to get his hopes up when there was the distinct possibility this crazy idea might not work as planned. He and I parted separately. We couldn’t be seen together for obvious reasons.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I spent my last night going over every last detail. My thoughts went back to Eugene Cernan and the Apollo 17 mission. He was the last man to visit this lunar landscape. Even though that was more than half a century ago, I’m sure his and my leaving were different. For him, and knowing that he might well be the last man to touch lunar soil, it had to be with mixed feelings. It’s like being one of the great explorers that reach places few if any other human beings have ever been before. You’ve seen sights that others can only imagine. You had a life experience that only a handful of men were also privileged to know.

  As for Cernan and others, they escaped the moon on the ascent stage that separated from the descent module. The time to the orbiting command module was short in comparison to what I was about to attempt. I went over the time it took for them to finally return to earth. I then subtracted the hours required for docking with the ascent module, Cernan getting out of it and into the command module, jettisoning the ascent module into a safe orbit, and then actively directing the command module back toward earth. Considering that the escape vehicle had a twenty-two-hour range, I hoped my math was correct. By immediately leaving the moon’s gravity, I hoped it would offer the needed time as well as speed required for a guaranteed safe return.

  I was prepared to go to sleep early when I saw the light flash indicating that someone was at my door. I got up and peered out the window. It was Ted...the last person I wanted to see let alone encounter just before I escaped. Had he seen something? Was he now prepared to dock all of my wages and insist I was a prisoner until notified otherwise? God only knows. I slowly opened the door. “Yes?”

  Ted had a serious expression on his face. He said, “You have yet to file a report. I have been expecting a full summary of your findings. What the hell is going on?”

  I shrugged dismissively. “I’ve been working on it. You know that. You know as well as I do that unless we can get a lot closer to the pole, what is currently available will never be sufficient to support such a large colony.” He then told me that a research robot was coming with the next module. I was to operate it remotely—as I had done with any number of unmanned research submersibles. Ted said he knew about my background and furthermore noted that I was uniquely qualified for that task. If I couldn’t find the needed water ice, maybe a robot could. I told him I was open to the idea—you know, anything to get him to go back into his cave. But no, Ted was in the mood to talk. He said he had a number of important questions to ask. Worse, he wanted to know if I wanted to come over to his place and have a drink. Evidently, he had squirreled away a bottle of pricey Scotch—something, I had to assume, he’d been enjoying alone. Now he wanted company while he drowned his sorrows.

  “Sorry, no, but thanks anyway,” I replied. “I’ve got to get up early again. I’ve been prospecting at a more distant crater.”

  He peered at me curiously. “I had been wondering about that. You know, what with your having gotten up so early lately. And what’s with that piece of equipment I keep seeing?”

  I froze. I hoped he didn’t mean the escape vehicle. I said, “Oh, you mean the solar charger?”

  “Is that what it’s called?”

  “Yes. It’s designed for remote settings to provide power for your tools.”

  “I see. And you need that for what you’re doing?”

  I made up a hasty lie: “Yes, when I’m working the shadow areas of craters, having additional light is essential.”

  “Right. That makes sense.” He paused and then asked again if I would reconsider his offer? But I told him I needed to get my rest; before you knew it, it would be time to get up.”

  For whatever reason, my reply placated him. Ted turned and was about to retreat to his module but he paused and looked back at me. “You still hate me, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “Hate is not a word I would ever use lightly. Rarely if ever does that word pass my lips.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you might feel it.”

  “Maybe; but maybe not. Good night Ted. Sleep well.”

  He looked dispirited and then returned to his desperate cell.

  I deeply sighed. I sincerely hoped this was the last time I’d ever see his face.

  I got up early. But now I had Ted convinced. As far as he knew, I was on my way to a distant crater. I had already filled my water bottle with lunar water. I tucked it carefully inside my spacesuit. I didn’t want Ted’s video revealing anything out of the ordinary. I acted as if this was but another day in my routine. I did glance back at Ted’s window just to make certain he wasn’t up. Thankfully, no interior lights were visible. The moment I stepped foot into the airlock, I began to feel lighter. Within less than an hour, I would be on my way. This portion of the nightmare would be over. What lay ahead of that, however, was something I hadn’t given much thought. But the essential motivation behind my escape was the well-being of my crew. If I accomplished but one thing, it would be to make the conditions here public to the degree that management would have no other choice but to bring my crew home after an unfortunate session in space.

  I drove toward the module where the escape vehicle was waiting. In the back of my mind, I wondered if D had come in and seen what I was hiding? I had no idea how long he had been here the day before. He hadn’t acted suspiciously. But D wasn’t one to show his feelings. No, instead, he had one hell of a good poker face. I’d encountered that on any number of projects and in the wee hours of the morning when I should have folded and called it a day. D won a lot of the card games simply by keeping his expression vague or unrevealing. When we’d fold, he often ended up showing a less than sterling hand while he raked in our chips.

  With that memory, I was going to miss him. I hated the idea of leaving D behind only to have him deal with Ted’s outrage, but especially when Ted discovered what I’d done but also the impact it would have on him and his relationship to this monstrosity. God only knows what Ted would do without someone restraining him. Would he get into a drunken rage and then take out his fury on my crew and D, in particular? I knew the moment I was back on earth I didn’t have a moment to waste. I had to get my story and that of my crew in
front of the media. They had to know what was going on here and the peril my crew was currently facing. Once that was done, I wanted a face-to-face meeting with the man in charge. I didn’t have time for some senior executive who would more than likely have me arrested and then charged with some ridiculous and unfounded crime.

  As I approached the module, I was stunned to see the lift rover parked in front. Any number of thoughts raced through my mind. Was D there? Why was he there? But the worst thing to consider was the idea that D knew what I was doing and either wanted to talk me out of it or else had already taken off in the escape vehicle. But never in a million years would I have entertained such a thought if things weren’t this desperate. It bothered me that I even allowed that thought to enter my mind.

  I walked up to the airlock not knowing what to expect. Was D waiting for me? Or was something else going on that I hadn’t considered? I opened the door and waited. I then opened the inner door that led to the module entrance. I assumed if D were anywhere, it would be there. When I peered in the window he was there and our eyes met. His expression was serious but essentially unreadable. The moment I opened the door, he said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I faintly shrugged. “If you didn’t know, when Ted finally asked you, you wouldn’t have to lie.”

  “I guess I ruined that part of your plan.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “You really didn’t think you could leave without saying goodbye, did you?”

  “I hate to think of it as goodbye as much as simply leaving with the intent of seeing you sooner than later.”

  “I know.”

  “What do you mean you know?”

  “Your son...Eric told me. He said you instructed him to use me as the communication link. That’s why I’m here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He nodded at the escape vehicle. “That device has never been certified. It has been tested but at altitudes that are far more reasonable than 240,000 miles away. Eric is afraid. He sent me an encrypted message. He’s concerned that with that distance and a lot of unknowns, that you will...you know...”

  “D, how many times have you and I ever gotten inside something that didn’t exist before? You know, that we helped design but wouldn’t know if it would work until it was at a depth that would prove it did?

  He nodded. “But you and I designed and built them. We knew our capability. We knew the standards to be met.” He tapped the hull of the escape vehicle and said, “We have none of that to go on with this. We have no clue who designed or built this contraption. For all we know, it’s a death trap. It might burn up in the outer atmosphere. It might malfunction on liftoff and you would be destroyed along with it.”

  I started taking off my spacesuit regardless. For no reason other than faith in technology, I felt it was worth the implied risk. Things here couldn’t continue the way they were going. I changed the subject. “How is Raphael?”

  D turned away.

  “Just as I thought. And Ted...is he insisting that Raphael work despite his injuries.”

  He turned back to me and sighed.

  “Again, as expected.” I paused, “So now do you understand the need for doing something so crazy? Can you put yourself in my place? Do you realize how responsible I feel for all of this along with the crew?”

  “Let me go instead.”

  I stared at a man I’d known for almost thirty years. I still couldn’t believe his devotion. He was willing to risk his life for me as much as I would for him. We had each other’s backs. That was a given. But this was asking too much. I was in charge—at least unofficially. And it was on me to clear both my name and that of my crew. I shook my head. “No, D, this one is on me this time. Maybe some other time.” I then asked that he help me get out of my spacesuit and then into the other one. I felt a sense of urgency. I then explained that I wasn’t entirely certain how the spacesuit would pressurize. When he realized that and how crucial the timing actually was, he said he would take the escape vehicle and set it up for me. He said he knew I probably had an idea of where to launch it.

  He, however, had another idea to consider: “Let’s use the lift rover’s front end as a steady arm. That way, you could easily clear it.” Good old D, always coming up with a solution I hadn’t even considered. That’s why we’ve made such a good team. He was always thinking ahead.

  So our roles reversed, I helped him put on his helmet. That took but a few moments and then he was out the door with the escape vehicle. I would have helped him had it been a different situation. But the launch time had been set. That meant that I had little time to change and then leave the airlock in anticipation of getting inside the waiting spacecraft. I assumed once the hatch was closed and an airtight seal was established, it would immediately pressurize and activate the oxygen flow. The moment I was prepared to put on the helmet, however, I noticed something I’d missed before. There was a built-in coupling of sorts in the back of it. That suggested that once I was in the escape vehicle oxygen would flow through that port and supplement what I assumed was a limited oxygen supply coming from the fully pressurized spacesuit. That soon proved correct. The moment the helmet locked into place, the spacesuit began pressuring. Within moments, I stood at the airlock window and watched as D deftly placed the escape vehicle in a vertical orientation. The lift rover arm was perfect as it gently cradled the spacecraft. D checked its clearance twice and then finally nodded at me. It was time. I paused for just a second to get my mind in the right place. I then imagined that I was about to jump into the ocean and prepare to dive down on a typical inspection dive.

  I took a deep breath and then intently but mindfully approached the open escape vehicle. I stepped in and placed my arms in the designated spaces. The rest of my body soon followed. Almost like clockwork, D slowly but also carefully closed the hatch. Once it was secure, and after the coordinates had been entered into a panel in front of where my face shield was ultimately positioned, I felt relieved with the next and anticipated step: the oxygen began flowing through the helmet. I felt the quick coupling engage and then snap into place. Immediately after that, I was suddenly enfolded by what felt like an inflated safety cushion. It form-fit around my entire body. Once that was done, I watched as the countdown began. Beginning at thirty seconds, the red digital readout slowly counted down. I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

  To be honest, I hadn’t envisioned the next step. I had been on jet aircraft before and had a firsthand appreciation for G-forces. But this experience was several notches higher than that. The instant the timer hit zero, it was as if the hand of God had picked me up and hurled me violently into space. But once the initial thrust of power kicked in, and I sensed that I had escaped lunar gravity, the feeling of being inside a speeding bullet began to recede. Instead, there was no longer the resistance that gravity exerts on your body—and even if it’s only limited, as is the case on the moon.

  Even though I didn’t have a read-out for speed, I had to hope that this spacecraft was reaching the needed 11,000 miles an hour. Anything less and it would run out of oxygen before I was back on earth. With that in mind, I had learned to conserve oxygen over the years. As with yoga, and by modified breathing techniques, you can mentally slow things down. That is especially important in a situation that feels overly stressful. Even though I was essentially captive to this device, I needed to relax to the situation. I needed to reduce not only my breathing but also my heart rate as well. If I could get into a highly relaxed state, it was entirely possible to save an hour’s worth of oxygen in the process.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I went in and out of sleep for what felt like hours. I was grateful for adult diapers. And I was starting to get thirsty. But with that in mind, I knew I had to change my thought pattern toward something other than my bodily needs. So I reoriented my thoughts toward Eric. I wondered if he was already preparing for my reentry? Oddly, he had never said a word about my landing site. Now I had good reason to wonder
where it would be? Had he picked a large lake, the ocean, or some other location that would buffer things if my parachutes didn’t happen to deploy or were only partially open? What with trying to keep my heart rate down, that sort of thinking had to be set aside. I had to aim toward something a bit more pleasant and not so thought provoking.

  Instead, I chose to think about the days when Eric and I went fishing. Don’t get me wrong, but for me, catching fish is a pointless enterprise. Considering my life experience, I almost spent as much time among fish as I did human beings. I valued them and their wondrous presence. Other than the occasional shark, they were pleasant enough company. You grow accustomed to their being around you. Some of them are curious while others are naturally wary. But each of them has qualities or aspects of character that when observed make them enjoyable to have nearby. So the idea of killing fish wasn’t all that appealing. But my son wasn’t me. He only thought that fishing was something fathers and sons do together. Considering how infrequently I was home, any opportunity for some quality time with my son was greatly treasured.

  It might not have been helpful, but every time Eric caught something, I would immediately tell him what kind of fish it was along with some of its natural characteristics. In other words, and in Eric’s eyes, my doing so gave the fish a personality of sorts. It was like a Disney movie or something. He started to appreciate the fish rather than simply view it as this ambiguous thing you gutted, cooked, and then ate. And he didn’t like the gutting part. But I told him that if it was his goal to become a fisherman, he would not only have to accept the idea, but he would also have to gut his catch. When he asked if he could have someone else do it for him, I told him that if he took another creature’s life, it was his responsibility to follow through with the next steps. That got his attention. I could tell because he grew quiet. And Eric always did that shortly before he formulated his next question.