Lunar Colony

by Patrick Kinney

  Glen opened the bin and put on the special airtight suit Slayton had said he’d need. He also spotted a long hose, which he attached to a port on his belt. He floated on, holding the other end of the hose in his hand.

  Now I just need something to pry that landing gear open, he said to himself. It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for, a crowbar in a crate of tools. This should do the trick.

  With everything he needed, Glen arrived at the moment of truth. He passed through the airlock and reached the exit hatch, where he saw a port for the other end of his hose. He attached it and gave it a few good tugs to see that it was secure.

  Boy, I hope this holds. Otherwise, I might be floating in space forever. Glen swallowed hard and grabbed the handle of the hatch. “I guess this is it,” he said, pulling down.

  The door flew open, and Glen was sucked out into the dark nothingness of space.

  “Aaaaah!” he yelled as he was catapulted away from his ship. But suddenly he stopped just as abruptly as if he’d run into a brick wall. Looking down at the rigid hose attached to his belt, Glen realized he was safe.

  “It held!” he shouted. “The hose held!” Then, using one hand while the other clutched the crowbar, he began using the hose to pull himself back to the ship.

  At first, Glen was afraid to let go of the hose again, but he soon found that, with a good, strong pull, he could send himself floating toward the fuselage. When he reached the outside of the ship, he put one hand on the bottom part of the hatch and swung himself down to the vehicle’s belly, where he saw what he was looking for.

  The underside of the ship was badly dented from the asteroid, and the panel covering one of the rear landing gears had been shoved into the mechanism.

  That doesn’t look good, Glen thought, floating toward the damaged area. But if I don’t fix it, I’m in big trouble.

  With one hand, Glen reached up and grabbed the dented panel. Bracing himself against the ship, he pulled as hard as he could. It didn’t budge.

  “Darn!” he said. “It’s really stuck. Okay, I guess I’d better try Plan B.”

  Glen stuck the crowbar into the landing gear and began trying to unjam the metal panel.

  “Oof,” he said. “I can’t get enough leverage.” Then, holding on to the crowbar with both hands, Glen put one foot on each side of the landing gear. Pulling with his entire body, he could feel every muscle quiver from the strain. Then, at last—

  Creeeeaaaaak!

  The bent metal gave way, making it possible to deploy the landing gears!

  It may not be pretty, Glen thought, but I think it’s fixed!

  After returning to the fuselage and closing the hatch behind him, Glen radioed Mission Control.

  “Problem solved, Mr. Slayton.”

  Back home, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Especially Glen’s father.

  Smooth Sailing

  Glen made his way back to the capsule and strapped himself back into his seat. He’d always wondered what it would feel like to float in a zero-gravity environment, but now that he’d tried it, he just wanted a rest.

  “Phew,” he said as he fastened his seatbelt. He felt the bump on his head from when he’d crashed into the wall and saw that his hands were still shaking from all the excitement. Now, with no launch, no asteroid field, and no other crisis at hand, he sat back and tried to relax.

  I can’t believe I’m really in outer space, Glen thought as he stared out the capsule window. He’d never even visited another country, yet here he was outside Earth’s atmosphere. As far as his eyes could see were the twinkling lights of distant stars and planets, all within a massive ocean of darkness.

  Glen couldn’t help but wonder how far outer space stretched, or even if it ended at all. And if there was an “end” to space, what then? Was there something else beyond it, or was there just nothing?

  It made Glen’s head hurt to try to wrap his mind around all of this, and at last he sighed, swiveling his chair away from the window.

  Now, what’s the deal with this Salerno character? Glen wondered, his thoughts shifting from the mysteries of the universe to the astronaut he was supposed to bring back to Earth. There had been times when he’d disobeyed his dad, like when he ate a bunch of junk food before dinner, but he couldn’t imagine what would make an astronaut ignore her orders.

  I guess it doesn’t matter, he thought. All I know is that I need to find her so I can get home. But still, what kind of unauthorized mission is she on?

  “This is Slayton,” the flight director said, interrupting Glen’s thoughts. “Do you copy?”

  “Yes,” Glen replied, shaking himself back to the present. “I copy.”

  “You’re approaching the moon’s orbit, so you’d better get back to the fuselage and enter the lunar lander,” Slayton said.

  Glen knew what Slayton was talking about. When he’d passed through the fuselage earlier, he’d noticed a small landing vehicle, which he supposed would take him to the moon’s surface.

  “Okay,” Glen said. “Will I have to do anything?”

  “That’s a negative,” Slayton answered. “All you have to do is sit there and enjoy the ride. Compared to what you’ve been through so far, it should be a piece of cake.”

  Salerno

  The rover zoomed across the lunar surface, leaving clouds of dust in its wake. It had been wandering the northeast sector of the moon for hours, but its driver, Commander Salerno, felt no closer to finding Number Four than when she left the barracks.

  Drat, she said to herself, I know Number Four is around here somewhere, but it’s like trying to find a tennis ball in a desert. Salerno’s face was grim with frustration. Then, spotting the outer slope of a nearby crater, her spirits rose a little. Hmm, maybe seeing things from a different point of view would help.

  Salerno jammed her foot on the accelerator as the rover raced up the huge hill. She skillfully dodged the rocky debris that littered the slope and, at last, reached the rim of the crater.

  Stepping out of the rover, she looked down from the rim, far below into the crater’s basin. Even after all these years on the moon, this lunar world never ceased to fascinate her. She stood for a moment in awe, wondering what it would have been like to see the moment of impact when a meteor had crashed into the moon, leaving behind this colossal hole below her.

  “Okay, back to work,” Salerno said, shaking herself from these thoughts. “Somewhere out there is Number Four. But where?” From high atop the crater’s rim, she scanned the lunar surface in every direction. She could make out the faraway silhouettes of Numbers One, Two, and Three. She could also see the blinking lights of the distant mining facility to the west and the biodome to the north. Closest of all the lunar facilities was the medical building to the east. Otherwise, the moon’s surface was barren, featureless but for the occasional crater that dotted the landscape here and there.

  Salerno sighed, not knowing which direction to search next. “If only I had a Geiger counter,” she said. “That device would lead me right to Number Four!”

  Suddenly, Salerno caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw a pair of blue lights blinking high above the moon. They were very far away, but there was no doubt that they were descending, each second getting closer to the ground. Salerno peered through her binoculars to have a better look.

  “Just as I thought,” she said. “McNabb’s errand runner has arrived.” She watched the lunar lander make its way toward the landing pad outside the living quarters. As the vehicle touched down, Salerno wondered which astronaut was aboard.

  “Is that you, Hatcher?” Salerno said aloud. “Have they finally taken off your training wheels and given you your own mission? Not likely. From what I’ve heard, you can’t ride an escalator without getting queasy. No, I’m sure they’ve sent the best, someone with more experience. But who?”

  Salerno paused. The door of the lander opened, and a figure, unidentifiable from such a distance, stepped onto th
e landing pad before entering the living quarters.

  “Well, whoever you are, you have your job to do, and I have mine,” Salerno continued. “You’ll be coming for me, I suppose. I’m guessing you’ll want to use a locator device to track me down.” Salerno reached her gloved hand into her pocket and fingered the gadget she’d taken from the barracks. She looked in the direction of the medical facility before getting back into the rover.

  As she pressed the ignition, she said, “Of course, finding me won’t be so easy if the locator device is hidden.”

  Living Quarters

  As Glen passed through the doors to the astronaut living quarters, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  Maybe it’s not Earth, he thought, but at least I’m back on the ground. Looking down the long hallway that lay before him, he said aloud, “Okay, Salerno, where are you?”

  Glen began walking. He listened carefully for any signs of activity but only heard the echo of his own footsteps. Turning a corner at the end of the corridor, Glen found himself in a large room filled with empty tables, microwave ovens, and refrigerators.

  “This must be where the astronauts eat,” he said. “But where did everyone go?”

  “They went home.” It was Slayton, coming in through Glen’s headset. “A couple years ago, this room would have been filled with astronauts grabbing some grub after a long day of research. With the budget cuts, though, they all got sent home. That is, all but Salerno.”

  Glen stood in the cafeteria, trying to imagine what it would have been like to see it filled with astronauts. He couldn’t help but think about how lonely it would feel to be the only person living here.

  “Mr. Slayton, I don’t see Salerno.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” said the flight director. “She’s a rail, barely took the time to eat anything. Always too busy with her work, she said.”

  “Then where do you think she might be?” Glen asked.

  “Check the barracks,” Slayton replied. “If you’re lucky, you might catch her taking a nap, though I doubt it. She didn’t sleep much, either.”

  Two more halls branched out from the cafeteria. The one to Glen’s right had a sign that read VEHICLE BAY. The other, to Glen’s left, pointed the way to the barracks.

  Okay, Glen thought, I guess this is the way.

  Glen walked slowly down the corridor, feeling very on edge about being in the abandoned facility. If he heard so much as a pin drop, he might have jumped out of his skin. Halfway down the hall, Glen saw a door marked GYMNASIUM. He knew that Slayton had told him to check the barracks, but Glen’s curiosity got the better of him.

  “I wonder what’s in here,” he said as he opened the door. Entering, he found an enormous room filled with basketball hoops, trampolines, climbing ropes, and other equipment. It was a lot like the gym at his middle school back on Earth, but so much better.

  “Look at this place!” he exclaimed. “No wonder Salerno doesn’t want to come home.” Glen picked up a basketball from the floor and shot a few baskets. Since he was still wearing his space suit, it didn’t take long to work up a sweat.

  Glen spotted something on the wall, which he assumed was a thermostat. It’s getting a little hot in here, he thought. I’d better turn the temperature down. Flipping the switch to the left, Glen immediately felt his feet leave the floor.

  “Whoa!” Glen shouted, surprised to find himself floating in the air. “What the heck is this thing?” He swam through the air until he hovered near the wall device. Looking at it more closely this time, he saw that it said GRAVITRON. “Cool! This thing must control the room’s gravity.”

  Glen kicked away from the wall and flew toward the basketball hoop on the far side of the gymnasium. Jamming the ball into the basket, he shouted, “Slam dunk! Two points for Glen Johns!” He pushed off the rim, somersaulting through the air. “This is so cool!”

  For several minutes he played, feeling freer and having more fun than he had in a very long time. In fact, he was experiencing the type of joy he hadn’t felt since he was a—

  “Kid!” shouted Slayton. “You’ve got a job to do. Now, enough fooling around like you’re on the playground, and find that missing astronaut!”

  “Yes, sir,” said Glen. He floated back to the Gravitron and reset it to normal gravity. As Glen’s feet touched the ground, he felt a little silly for playing around like a child. He hadn’t exactly acted like a thirteen-year-old who had an important job to do. Still, as he left the gymnasium, he couldn’t help but wish he’d had just a little more time to play.

  Glen shut the gym’s door behind him and continued down the hall until he reached the barracks.

  “Hello? Commander Salerno? Is anyone here?” Glen asked. Hearing no reply, he walked past row after row of empty bunk beds. With the departure of the astronauts, they had all been stripped of their linens. Glen spotted one, however, that still had a pillow and blankets.

  So, this must be where Salerno sleeps, Glen thought. The bed was not made but, instead, was covered by a heap of blankets. “I guess if no one was around to tell me to make my bed, I wouldn’t bother with it either,” Glen said, turning away. Then he noticed something—the corner of an object sticking out from beneath the pillow. Pulling it out, Glen saw that it was a notebook. He flipped through the pages but couldn’t figure out what most of the drawings and scribblings meant. Most puzzling was the question scrawled over and over throughout the book: Where is Number Four?

  “I don’t know what any of this means or what Number Four is, but I’ll bet this notebook will come in handy,” Glen said as he stuck it into the pocket of his spacesuit.

  Near Salerno’s bunk was something else of interest, a workstation covered in papers and empty cans of Astrofizz cola.

  “Sheesh, what a mess,” Glen said. “Not making your bed is one thing, but living like a pig is another.” Among the hundreds of papers that littered the desk were more drawings, maps, and calculations. The same question—Where is Number Four?—was written on many of these papers and even scratched into the desk.

  Hmm . . . , Glen thought, Salerno seems obsessed with finding this Number Four. But what is it? As he pondered this question, he ran his fingers up and down one of the many stacks of papers and accidentally caused it to topple over. The papers fluttered to the ground, revealing a computer monitor.

  “Hello, what’s this?” Glen said as he saw what was on the screen. It was an e-mail, the one Salerno had read before fleeing the living quarters. Glen read through it carefully, especially the mention of “little green men,” hoping it would give him a clue to where she might have gone. When he was done, he closed his eyes and thought deeply, trying to put the pieces of the mystery together.

  “Okay, so Salerno is so obsessed with finding this Number Four thing that she disobeys McNabb, the space program director, who’s telling her to shut this place down and go home. He gets mad and says he’s sending someone to come get her. I guess that would be me.” Glen laughed. Before coming to the moon, the most responsibility he’d ever had was taking care of his neighbor’s dog for a weekend, yet here he was now, astronaut-hunting. “So, she knew someone was coming, which explains why she ditched this place. But what’s this about ‘little green men’? That means aliens, right?”

  Glen frowned. Did Salerno actually believe in aliens? And did she really think that finding Number Four would lead her to them? It all just seemed so crazy. Maybe, though, that’s what happens when you live on the moon by yourself for a long enough time. Eventually you start to believe in things that aren’t possible. But, then again, she had so many notes, so many maps and drawings. It was obvious she’d done a lot of research. Could it be possible that she was onto something?

  Glen tried to shake this thought from his head, fearing that he was already starting to lose his own marbles. But he did have to wonder just what kind of person he was dealing with.

  “Well, one thing’s for certain,” Glen said, getting up to leave the barracks. “Salerno’s not here
in the living quarters, which means she could be anywhere on the moon.” Remembering a sign he’d seen earlier, he said, “Luckily, I think I know where I can find a car.”

  Vehicle Bay

  Glen opened the door to the vehicle bay, hoping he’d find something he could drive on the moon’s surface.

  “If I’m lucky, maybe there’s a jet pack somewhere around here,” he said as he scanned the vehicle bay. The garage wasn’t very orderly. There were tools lying all over the place and heaps of spare parts strewn about. But then Glen saw what he was looking for, a lunar rover.

  “It may not be a jet pack, but this should make it a lot easier to find Salerno,” he said, thinking that it was a lot like the dune buggy he and his dad had once driven on the beach. Then, seeing an empty parking spot nearby, he added, “And it looks like I’ll need it to even the odds. Salerno must have one, too!”

  Glen tried pulling open the bay door, but it wouldn’t budge. Maybe there’s something in the rover that will do the trick, he thought. Climbing behind the wheel, he looked over the dashboard and found a button marked DOOR. “Aha!” he said as he pressed it. But to Glen’s disappointment and frustration, the door didn’t move. Instead, a message appeared on the dashboard console’s screen. It said DOOR ACCESS DENIED. SYSTEM OVERRIDE REQUIRED.

  “Darn it!” Glen said as he got out of the rover. He paced the vehicle bay, wondering why everything had to be so difficult. “It’s not enough that I flew a spaceship to the moon? Now I have to figure out how to override the system just to open some dumb door? What does that even mean?”

  As he stormed around the garage, he noticed a piece of machinery that didn’t look quite like the others. In fact, it looked more like—

  “A robot,” Glen said aloud. He walked closer, thinking that its drooped head made it look like it was sleeping. “I wonder if this thing works,” Glen said. He couldn’t find an ON button, and nothing happened when he banged on the robot’s head. But something caught his attention: a wire hanging from the back of the machine. “Hey,” he said, “it looks like someone unplugged it. I wonder what will happen if I plug it in here—”