by Bob Goddard
Now that Papa Yon and Ben had gone off with the forest people to see some boring old stones, he could resist no more. Besides, it was cold sitting here guarding the boat when the fire was on the other side of the river. A little climb would help warm him up.
Mammed paced along the edge of the stony shore looking up at the cliff to explore all its cracks and ledges with his eyes. The rock face was almost vertical and stretched upwards to the sky. If he reached the top it would be his best climb ever. His heart was thumping with the thought of it, his mouth dry with excitement.
He blew on his fingers to warm them up and strode to the base of the cliff where the best handholds appeared to be. He untied his boots and slipped them off to let his toes get a better grip. Then, with a deep breath to steady his nerves, he started to climb.
The rock was much colder than he’d imagined and made him gasp as his fingers and toes scrabbled for grip on the hard, grainy surface. He pressed on regardless and whenever he could rest and spare a hand, he blew on it to reduce the numbness. His feet were becoming stiff with the cold, but there was nothing he could do for them except wriggle his toes to keep them moving.
There were cracks in the rock face, most of them barely big enough to slip his fingertips into. After a few minutes he reached a vertical crevice which was wide enough to get his arm and most of his leg in. Mammed had never climbed anything like it but, learning as he went, he made good progress. Soon the heat from his trembling muscles began to reach his chilled hands and feet, making them throb.
As he got higher, his thoughts turned to his first father who died six years before, when Mammed was 10 years old. A disturbing image came back to him now. He saw the beads of sweat on his father’s face as he lay on the bed and heard again his terrible coughing in the night. Then one day his mother said his father had gone up to heaven and pointed to the sky. When Mammed ran out into the yard there was a pale face peering down at him and he knew his father had gone to live with the Man in the Moon.
He couldn’t understand how his father had got up there, but Mammed wanted to speak to him again, so he started climbing. At first it was trees, seeking out the tallest around his home in Portkaron. When he got to the top he would look up to the sky and call out. Even if he couldn’t see the Moon, he felt sure his father could hear him.
“Papa. Papa, are you there?”
He found that if he listened very carefully, he could just make out his father whispering among the sounds of the wind in the treetops.
“Yes, Mammed. I am here.”
“Why did you have to go away, Papa? I want you to come home now.”
“I was sick, Mammed. Now I rest in heaven. I cannot come home again.”
“But Papa, I miss you so much…” His little voice would crack as the tears fell.
When he stopped sobbing, he would hear his father’s faint whisper again: “I miss you too, my son. When my tears fall from the sky, you will know I am thinking of you.”
Then the words would merge with the wind and he couldn’t hear his father any more. He would climb down and wait for the tears from heaven. That winter, his father cried a lot. Mammed would stand outside soaking up his father’s sorrow until his mother bellowed from the door to come inside and stop being such a stupid boy or he would catch his death.
Then the summer came and his father forgot about him. There were no more tears from heaven. He climbed higher and higher. Even to the top of the church tower, but it became more and more difficult to catch his father’s words between the whistles and shrieks of the wind.
He had always found it hard to play with other children. They teased him when he didn’t understand their games or forgot to laugh at their jokes. So he watched them playing from afar and made up his own games to keep himself amused.
At school it was worse. The teacher shouted at him and the class laughed at him. All that long hot summer his father forgot to cry for him. Then Papa Yon came sailing in to Portkaron and offered to take him away on his ship. He would let him climb to the top of the Pelican’s masts every day. Mammed was more than ready to go.
Papa Yon had been good to him these past five years and seemed to understand him better than most. Mammed supposed it was because he had lost his own father, in an accident at sea. From that first day he had felt at home aboard the Pelican and when he met Lucy it seemed incredible that somebody like her could be his new sister. She seemed more like a new, younger mother and a perfect school teacher all rolled into one.
Lucy was strict, but always very clear about what she wanted Mammed to do. She patiently explained things and got him to repeat the instructions back to her. Then, when he had completed the task, provided he had done it right, she would hug him to her bosom. That was the nicest feeling ever. He always tried his best for Lucy.
His new brothers, Ifan and Jack, were nice too. They spent hours teaching him how to tie knots and bait the lobster pots aboard their fishing boat. Mammed had more time with them these days. Since the Cardinal took over the Pelican the ship was in port for weeks or months at a time, awaiting his next holy mission.
The deep cleft in the rock face that Mammed had been using to haul himself upwards now narrowed to a slim crack, too small even for fingers. He stopped to catch his breath and look for other hand holds, but there were none. He must be almost at the top anyway, he thought, as the weak northern sun broke through the clouds and started to warm his back.
Without looking down – Mammed knew that was a bad idea – he glanced to his right, across the broad, brown estuary to the low-lying land beyond. In the distance, near the horizon, he could see the silvery glimmer of the ocean. Then the view blurred as the wind stung his eyes and made them stream. So he turned his head to the left, to the forests and mountains inland. He blinked away the tears.
“Are you there, Papa?” he called out softly.
He listened intently, but all he could hear was the sigh and moan of the chill breeze cutting across the surface of the rock. It was ages since he last heard his father whispering to him from heaven. Now he wondered if he had ever really heard his voice at all, or just imagined it. Had it only been the wishful thinking of a grief-stricken boy?
Maybe it was time to grow up, say goodbye and let his father rest in peace? He sucked in a lungful of air and shouted at the top of his voice: “I LOVE YOU PAPA!” His words seemed to echo in the thin, cold air. Mammed felt sure his father had heard him.
Then he stirred his aching limbs back to life and started the slow, careful climb back down the cliff. Down from the realm of the spirits in the sky, back down to the land of the living.
His muscles were burning from the effort and he was blowing hard by the time his bare feet reached the ground. As they touched the cold stones he heard the crunch of a heavy boot on the shingle behind him and a dark shadow fell across the grey rock where he stood.
5. Ginny’s Great Escape
Moon, 2087
Tamala stepped into her office and flicked on her screen. There was no mistaking the Caltel news channel. “Breaking News! Is Chinese mining the reason Comet Santos is targeting planet Earth!?”
“Oh my goodness,” she whispered and sat down at her desk.
“Caltel has a world exclusive that will shock and dismay you today.” It was a breathless, excited news presenter. He was standing in front of a vast screen depicting a tumbling, streaming comet and a slowly spinning blue world.
“The comet that is threatening planet Earth – Comet Santos – was being mined by the Chinese government right before it changed its course and headed for us!”
The camera zoomed in on the presenter’s flushed face. “We have reason to believe that this Chinese mining operation may have caused the comet to change course. A deadly shift that right now has all the world’s powers scrambling to launch a deflection attempt.”
“Oh, no,” muttered Tamala, “this is terrible.” She lifted her left arm, tapped her comm to call the Governor and got through immediately.
�
��Nadia, I think you should see—”
“I know, Tamala,” Sokolova cut her off. “I’m watching it too. Please monitor the other news channels to see how they deal with this. I’ll speak to you later.” Her comm blinked and the Governor’s face disappeared.
The news voice was still blaring: “…shocking news comes from our world exclusive interview early this morning with the wife of a Californian astronaut!”
“Will’s not an astronaut,” Tamala muttered under her breath, “and Ginny’s not his wife, either.”
But now there was a still image of a beautiful green-eyed woman with dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders.
“Virginia Antoine, speaking to us from her Monterey home today, revealed that China has been secretly mining Comet Santos. According to Ms Antoine this information came from her husband, William Cooper, who is currently based at the international colony on the Moon. He told her it is this secret mining operation that has resulted in the comet swinging off course and targeting the Earth!”
Tamala groaned. The picture returned to a long shot of the presenter in front of an ISCOM media photo of Cooper in his white Moon-transfer suit, holding his helmet.
“Our attempts to put a call through to Mr Cooper at Armstrong Base on the Moon have been blocked by the head office of ISCOM in Darmstadt, Germany. They flat out refused to let us speak with him, saying he was too busy to talk to the media. But only last fall, we had an extended interview with Will Cooper as he reached the two-thirds stage of his Moon mission. He wasn’t too busy then. We suspect a major cover-up to try to plug the leak of this sensational story.”
The camera zoomed in on the presenter’s grinning face: “But we’ve got news for you, ISCOM. This genie is out of the bottle. Here at Caltel we don’t ever give up when we break a story of Earth-shattering importance like this!” He winked at the camera to make sure viewers caught his little joke.
“We are urgently seeking official Chinese confirmation and an explanation for this shocking revelation. But – not surprising, perhaps – we are getting a stone wall of denial and silence. The Chinese ambassador in Sacramento claims to know nothing about this comet mining activity. And the Chinese space agency CNSA has denied outright all knowledge of it.
“Does this mean they were not mining the comet? We don’t think so! Let’s take a look at the track record of Chinese activities in space and see whether we can take them at their word.”
The camera angle shifted to show the presenter beside an image of the huge Chang Zheng rocket. He waved his arm towards the nose of the rocket and spoke as a sequence of dates and details were spelled out from the top:
“In 2032 the fourth unmanned Chinese lander on the Moon was described as a purely scientific mission. It wasn’t! Despite repeated denials it turned out this was a commercial geological sampling expedition for future mining activity.
“In 2041 the Chinese asteroid survey was billed as another scientific trip. But we later learned the robotic spacecraft was extracting metals from that asteroid. Those metals were later used in the construction of the mighty Chinese Tiangong space station.
“In 2059 the third manned Chinese Moon mission was again claimed to be ‘for scientific purposes’. It was, in fact, the start of Chinese mining at the Moon’s south pole.
“In 2066 the European lunar satellite Artemis took detailed photographs of the Moon’s south pole. Those photos revealed the industrial-scale of the Chinese mining activity there.
“The Chinese government never officially admitted they were mining the Moon in contravention of international agreements, but they pulled out soon after their secret was uncovered. Their old mine workings are now part of Armstrong Base, the international Moon colony. And it’s from that very same Moon colony that today’s startling revelation has come.
“So, for now, we will let you, the viewer, decide whether China was mining Comet Santos when it changed course and headed straight for planet Earth. In the meantime, we will continue to seek answers and will bring you updates as this astonishing story unfolds. Stay tuned to Caltel for the latest developments.”
The news cut to commercials. Tamala switched to a multi-screen function and selected six news channels. It would only be a matter of minutes before the others ran the same story and the whole world would see it.
She thought about alerting Will to the news broadcast, but decided against it. He was busy testing the new tube down at the bottom end of the farm. Tamala wondered how his partner, Ginny, was coping with the media attention.
The Caltel broadcast jumped to a reporter with microphone standing outside a pretty pale-blue clapboard house. She clicked the image to bring up the sound.
“… here outside the house of Californian astronaut William Cooper and his wife Virginia Antoine. We’ve come to speak face-to-face with the woman who revealed the shocking Chinese comet-mining story earlier this morning.
“So far she has refused to answer the door and speak to us, but I’m just going to try one more time.” He was striding towards the door as he spoke. “We’ll see if she will give us any more details about this incredible revelation.”
He rapped loudly on the door and shouted: “Ms Antoine! Ms Antoine! Will you speak to us please?” Followed by more loud rapping on the door. Then he turned back to the camera with a knowing smile.
“Well, it seems Ms Antoine is unwilling to add to the information she gave us in a telephone interview earlier. But we can play you a part of that conversation in just a minute so you can hear for yourself exactly what she said.” Then the reporter’s smug expression changed to surprise and his head snapped around to see where a loud noise was coming from.
The camera panned to the other end of the wooden building where a garage door was rising. Before it was fully up, a leather-clad and helmeted figure shot out of the garage astride a huge motorcycle. The sound from its exhaust was ear-splitting.
Tamala recognised the long dark curls tumbling from beneath the helmet. “Ha! Go, Ginny. Go, girl!” she shouted at her screen. The bike and rider dodged around the fender of the TV van blocking the driveway and roared off into the distance.
As the thunderous sound faded the camera panned back to the shocked face of the reporter. “Well, I… I’ve no idea what kind of machine that was – some crazy old gas-powered motorsickle, I guess. It looks like we’re not going to get any further interview with Ms Antoine here today, so I’ll hand you back to the studio…”
“Hahaha. Nice move Ginny!” cheered Tamala as she clapped her hands in delight. “Will will be so proud of you.”
* * * * *
Moon, 2087
“It is sabotage, plain and simple!” Doctor Robinson gestured towards the plass cabinets. “I knew something like this would happen. It’s just not safe to leave these experiments unattended!” The two scientists stood behind him, nodding gravely.
“So, what damage has been done?” asked Nadia.
“Well, fortunately, Professor Yi here…” he gestured to the older of the two men, “returned to check on these stem cell trials as soon as he was released from his labour on the farm. The electrical supply cannot have been turned off for more than half an hour—“
“Seventeen minutes!” chipped in the balding, bespectacled scientist behind him.
“Yes, thank goodness.” Robinson looked exasperated. “Only seventeen minutes. The interruption was sufficiently brief that temperatures had not dropped significantly. But had it been any longer the whole procedure would have been destroyed – totally ruined!”
“Very well,” said Nadia. “We must make sure this doesn’t happen again. And we will see if we can catch whoever did this. We will install cams at both ends of this booth and you, Doctor Robinson, as well as Professor Yi and his assistant, can monitor them on your comms. I will also ask our technicians to install a warning device into the electrical supply. You will each receive an alarm if the power is turned off again.”
“You don’t think they should return to their work
here, then…?”
“Certainly not! Their help is needed on the farm, for the good of the whole colony.” Nadia was frowning as she thought. “Who might have a motive to disrupt their experiments? Does their company have a competitor here, or someone who might have a grudge?”
“I’ve already gone through all that with them,” said Robinson. “As you know, most Chinese trials of this sort are conducted on their own space station. Professor Yi’s company chose Armstrong Base because this experiment needed the Moon’s one-sixth gravity. They don’t know who would want to sabotage it. Maybe a commercial rival instructed someone to do this, but I can’t imagine who…”
“Very well. I will organise installation of cams and warning device. We may catch the culprit if they don’t know about our security measures. So, none of you are to speak about this to anyone, do you all understand?” She shot them a fierce look. The three men nodded in reply.
* * * * *
Moon, 2087
Lian Song wasn’t quite sure how to feel. Sitting in the Lunar Lunchbox at supper time sipping her chicken soup, she reflected on a strange and turbulent day.
It had started badly after a night of fidgeting in bed and staring at her screen, trying to stop her mind from churning. At 5am she had given up, taken a shower and was waiting outside the door of the canteen before it opened.
“Well, you’re the early bird, Lian!” Bunny, the cheery Australian canteen manager was swiping her card through the slot and opening the door.
“Oh!” Lian had been lost in her thoughts.
“You get the first worm.” She smiled, then frowned when she saw the tired, bewildered look on Lian’s face. “Come on in and I’ll get the coffee on the go. Looks like you need it.”
Lian sat at the first table and dropped her face into her hands while she waited for the coffee to brew. She was fast asleep when a hand gently shook her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see a steaming, spill-proof mug sitting on the table in front of her.