Mother Moon

by Bob Goddard

  As she tidied her room – Darren’s many talents didn’t include bed making – she thought about the vidcall she had had with sister Elina the night before. Her twin was in Nairobi, Kenya, having just completed an important trial in which she was barrister for the defence. She was elated to have won the case and was rewarding herself with a week’s holiday. She would spend it at home with their parents in Lilongwe.

  This news delighted Tamala. It meant Elina would help their parents cope with the upheaval the coming week would bring. And Elina’s going home would allow Tamala to see and chat to her folks for the first time in weeks.

  She had a lot to tell them. Tamala had planned to break her baby news on her arrival back home in just over a week’s time. But now she was staying another month or more, she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. They knew about Darren. Tamala had told her sister about him ages ago, but she had given no clues about the pregnancy.

  Her family would be thrilled, she felt sure. Elina’s legal career had left no room for a serious relationship, let alone motherhood, so no babies were likely from her for the time being at least. And for her parents a grandchild would be Tamala’s homecoming present.

  Tamala checked her comm. It was now 12.10 hours. Elina would be stepping off the shuttle in Lilongwe, where it was just after 2pm. They had arranged for a call at 6pm, Malawi time, when Elina and their parents would be in a modest little restaurant with vidcall coverage. She would break her big news to them then.

  She straightened up and pressed her hands against the gentle swell of her tummy. She had just felt a faint fluttering and was sure it wasn’t hunger. Could it be the first kick of her baby? She would head to the Lunchbox and tell Darren. She hoped he would be as thrilled as she was. Before she could leave her room Tamala’s comm chimed. She sat on her freshly-made bed and pressed play.

  “Fellow colonists, this is Governor Nadia Sokolova with your midday update.” Instead of the usual spiky blond hair, the jerky picture showed a dimly-lit face in a surface-suit helmet. “As you can see I am outside on my way back from Haworth Crater. With me is Hassan Khouri.” The image panned to reveal another helmet, a grinning face and a waving glove.

  Nadia told of progress with water retrieval, PV panels, fish and meat production. She urged everyone to join the ball sports kicking off at 19.30 hours and Tamala’s yoga and meditation classes.

  “Now, finally, the interception with Comet Santos will take place at 6.27 hours tomorrow morning. You are all invited to the Lunchbox for the ISCOM broadcast of this historic event. I look forward to seeing you all there.”

  * * * * *

  Moon, 2087

  Will Cooper grunted. It was partly from the effort of heaving on the long-handled torque wrench, partly satisfaction with a job well done. He had fitted the last of twelve new wheel bearings to the old ‘scrap’ tractor that had been abandoned years ago. It had been deemed beyond repair when it was discovered that all the bearings were wrecked, the tracks worn out and the suspension shot. Vital maintenance had been skipped, the weekly greasing routine ignored. On the Moon the abrasive regolith dust took no prisoners.

  Instead of laying the blame on one of his three predecessors – Will had a pretty good idea which one – ISCOM had built and shipped a new tractor from Earth. Good thing they had deep pockets. It had taken four monthly shuttle flights to heave the new two-ton tractor all the way up from the planet’s deep gravity well. By the time the new tractor was assembled and ready to roll, the old one had shuddered its way to its final resting place in the corner of the garage.

  Bringing it back to life had become a personal mission for Will, a pleasant distraction from his other tasks and his concern for Ginny. If he thought about her too much his longing made him feel sick. He’d lost weight these past few months as his usual voracious appetite had deserted him. Getting his hands greasy was good therapy. It helped him forget.

  He heaved on the torque wrench one more time for luck. Within a day of arrival at Armstrong Base, Will had discovered that pulling down on tools was a waste of time. Using his weight for leverage didn’t work when he weighed only 13 kilograms. He simply rose off the ground. Now it was second nature to brace his feet on the floor and use his muscles to apply the force upwards.

  The wrench clicked reassuringly. He disengaged the socket and straightened up.

  “Uh?” He grunted for a second time, but it was not due to effort or satisfaction. He’d seen a face, surrounded by curly black hair and topped with a red climbing helmet, peering in at him from the plass wall which separated the pressurised and vacuum sides of the garage. As he turned to look it vanished.

  “The hell was that!?” he said out loud, more in anger than wonder.

  He knew exactly what it was. It was Ginny and she was an optical illusion. Or was it hallucination? He was going mad, he was sure of it.

  * * * * *

  Moon, 2087

  Tamala’s screen blinked and her parents’ shiny brown faces appeared, with her sister Elina behind them.

  “Hello Mama, Papa, Elina. This is Tamala sending you all her love from the Moon.” She waited for her words to reach them. Elina was smiling but her parents looked serious. Their faces brightened as they saw and heard her. As usual, it was her mother who spoke first.

  “Tamala! Thank God! We were so worried when we heard you were going to be stuck up there for another month. I should never have let you go. Are you all right, my baby girl?”

  “Yes, I am fine. I’m sorry I’m not on my way home today as planned, but everything is okay here, so don’t worry about me. I am keeping very busy and Darren is looking after me. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Mama. But tell me all your news first. How are you all?” She smiled as she waited for their reply.

  “Your father’s back is bad, Tamala, but he has a young boy to help him with the sacks these days. And my legs ache from walking to and from the market, but we are getting old, Tamala. We need our daughters here at home to comfort us.

  “Your sister Elina works too hard – she is only just back from Nairobi – and we want you home as well, Tamala. It has been too long. Three years on the Moon is enough for anybody. Please come home Tamala, our hearts are breaking here while we wait for you.” Elina was whispering something in her mother’s ear.

  “I will be coming home as soon as I can, Mama. But they have to send another ship. Our shuttle has been sent to deflect the comet. You do know it is happening tomorrow morning? Will you be watching it?”

  This time it was Elina who spoke first. “We have booked a table for an early breakfast here, at the Sunshine Restaurant, Tamala, so we can watch it on their big screen. It will be crowded, even at eight in the morning. But those poor pilots, Tamala! Do you know them?”

  “Yes, one of them, Chao Yeung. He was one of the flight crew when I came here three years ago. A very nice man with a wife and child. It is awful that they have been sent to their deaths to counter this comet, but it seems it is the only way. Have you made any preparations?”

  She saw her mother’s hand fly up to her mouth at the mention of death, then a puzzled look. “Preparations? We have been preparing for your return ever since you left, Tamala.”

  “No! I mean in case the deflection of the comet is not successful, Mama. Do you have food and water and somewhere safe to shelter?”

  Her parents turned to look at each other and Elina’s pretty face creased with a frown. She said: “Why would it not be successful, Tamala? You’ve surely not been listening to those silly scaremongers on the socioweb?”

  Tamala was shocked. “Has the government not issued any advice… in case the comet does hit the Earth? Has nobody taken any precautions?”

  Elina’s look of puzzlement changed to anger. “Why are you saying these things, Tamala? Do you want to upset Mama and Papa? You must be completely out of touch up there on the Moon. Everybody knows the comet will be deflected. The government has issued statements confirming it. All the TV channels have run programmes showin
g how the comet will miss the Earth. You obviously haven’t been kept properly informed. There is nothing to worry about, Tamala.”

  She realised she was staring at them with her mouth open and promptly shut it. But what could she say? There seemed to be a well-coordinated campaign of denial in Malawi. Was it to quell public unrest? Was it the same in other countries? Why were they being misled?

  “Oh! W-well…” she stammered. “That’s good to hear. We haven’t got the same information up here.” What else could she say?

  Then Elina was talking again, in a more gentle tone this time: “You will see tomorrow morning, Tamala. The comet will be deflected and you can stop worrying about us down here. It is you who needs to take care… and hurry up and come home to us, dear sister.”

  VIDCALL – 1 MINUTE REMAINING

  “As soon as I can, I promise. And I only have one minute left to tell you my big news. Mama and Papa… you are going to be grandparents! Elina, you will be an auntie as well. I am going to have a baby!”

  For a few moments there were blank looks followed by surprise. Then Elina’s face disappeared and Tamala realised her sister was jumping up and down behind her parents’ chairs. Her mother had both hands over her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling.

  It was her father who found his voice first: “A baby, Tamala? Are you sure? Is it possible to start a baby on the Moon?”

  “Yes, of course I’m sure. The doctor here has confirmed it and the baby is due in June.”

  “But… but you are not married, Tamala!” said her mother in a shocked voice.

  “We will be Mama. Just as soon as we can. You will love Darren. He is such a wonderful man. And he will be a good father too. Please tell me that you are hap…

  VIDCALL TIME ELAPSED

  “…py for me.” Tamala’s voice trailed away as she stared at the frozen faces of her family. Then she burst into tears.

  * * * * *

  Moon, 2087

  Monday’s meeting in the Governor’s office was a sombre affair. Lian’s report was brief and to the point, but lacked any of her previous excitement or innovation.

  Will should have been elated at completing the tractor bearings, but he seemed glum. He grumbled about the slow progress of the PV panels, the fish tanks, the farm tube. Even Marina’s creation of vital components didn’t lift his spirits. As he concluded his brief, gloomy report, Nadia looked at him with a puzzled frown. This wasn’t just ‘Grumpy Engineer’. Something else was troubling him, she felt sure of it.

  Then Tamala, whose sunny disposition lifted any gathering, voiced concern about her folks back home. They had been misled, she said, into believing the comet posed no threat to them. Her research into the state of disaster planning showed most countries had issued no advice at all.

  The media was full of praise for the deflection mission and was giving detailed descriptions of how it would work. There was some criticism of the Chinese for mining the comet in secret, but little speculation about its change of course. It was all very strange and proved there was now a central control of the world’s media. Tamala worried about the lack of preparation. If the comet did hit the planet, she said, most of the population would be unprotected. Her own family was convinced that no risk existed. It was as though the whole world was in denial.

  Nadia was able to enlighten them. A UN-led comet emergency committee had been meeting in Geneva since Friday. They were directing governments on matters of security, media and public order. Some big sticks were being waved behind the scenes. Several famous media names had disappeared from the airwaves and many social networks had been shut down. Public order had been maintained and financial markets had largely recovered from Friday’s crash. International co-operation was suppressing panic until after the comet crisis was over, she said.

  “That’s all very well, Nadia,” said Tamala angrily, “but if the comet isn’t deflected tomorrow morning, people will have almost no time left to protect themselves, will they?”

  Nadia lowered her head and stared at her desk for several long seconds. When she looked up and met their eyes she said: “There is nothing we can do about it. We will have our answer tomorrow morning. Let us pray to God the deflection is successful.”

  She dismissed them, but then asked Will to stay. After a few minutes probing he admitted to suffering strange optical illusions: seeing things that weren’t there. He didn’t reveal that the illusions all featured Ginny, but he did say that he was becoming concerned about it. She instructed him to go see Doctor Rozek immediately and get a thorough check-up. Whether the problem was in his eyes or in his mind, he needed treatment.

  * * * * *

  Moon, 2087

  After a thorough examination by Doc Rozek, who found no optical problem, but gave him some stress-less pills, Will was keen to speak with the subject of his hallucinations. But before he called Ginny he wanted to speak to his father. He returned to his room where he could use his screen in private.

  “Hi Dad. Gotta be brief – I only got five minutes for calls today and I haven’t called Ginny yet. I wanna check you have some sort of back-up plan in case this comet hits. Somewhere safe for you and Mom to go, where you can take Ginny too?” It was an agonising wait for his father to answer. His dad looked fit, tanned and relaxed in a check golfing shirt.

  “Well, hi, Son! Good to hear from you at last. It’s been – what? – two weeks? Your mom says you don’t care about us any more, but I know that isn’t true. So… what news from the Land of the Lunies?”

  “Dad! We got 30 seconds then I gotta cut you off. Do you have someplace safe to go in case this comet hits? Forget what the media says, there’s a real chance it could. Someplace safe for you and Mom and Ginny?”

  “Yeah, ’course I do, Will! You think I’m stupid? Booked us places in the Terra Vivos shelter years ago. It’s deep in the Mojave Desert. Could take a full nuclear strike. Nothin’ can touch us there, Will, so you don’t have to worry. It’s you that concerns me, up there on the Moon. You gonna be alright, son?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Dad. Busy as hell and bustin’ to get home, soon as I can. Look, I’m sorry but I can’t talk now. Gotta call Ginny with the time I have left. Love to Mom. Call you again soon. Bye, Dad.”

  He tapped the screen to end the call. Then he brushed his hand over his stubbly scalp and blew out his cheeks in a long exhale of breath. That was one big worry laid to rest, even if he did feel like a jerk for cutting his Dad off like that.

  His screen said he had 3 minutes and 40 seconds left for his call to Ginny. It wasn’t near enough for all he wanted to say. But it was all he’d got, so he’d best do as his father used to tell him: “Get on with it and quit bitchin’.”

  * * * * *

  Moon, 2087: Tuesday, February 11th

  There was a small crowd waiting outside the Lunchbox door when Bunny arrived to open up. It was 5.45 and she was quarter of an hour early, despite having volunteered for these extra couple of hours. With 297 colonists expected for the deflection broadcast, the canteen staff needed all the help they could get.

  The Australian was surprised by their brittle cheerfulness. Their excited chatter reminded her of a rugby final she once attended in Melbourne. Then the screens lit up with an image of the flight deck and the crew of the Shenlong Spaceplane. At the sight of them racing towards their fatal rendezvous with Comet Santos the hubbub died away.

  Bunny paused to select the broadcast audio on her comm. The sound burst from the speaker stud in her right ear. She adjusted the volume then continued switching on the coffee machine and juice maker.

  Nadia arrived at 6 hours to find the canteen almost full and a steady stream of people pushing in through the door. Nearly everyone was standing watching the screens with rapt attention. She tuned in to hear the ISCOM commentary over the live video feed from the Chinese space agency. It was explaining that the images of a bright cloud with a dark spot in the centre were the views from the five autonomous cameras which had been fired backwards from the
ship.

  The purpose of the cambots was to record the approach and aftermath of the mission. They would give the close-up views. Terrestrial and off-planet telescopes would verify the comet’s new trajectory after the nuclear detonation.

  The broadcast switched to an animation showing, for the umpteenth time, the planned deflection. The Shenlong Spaceplane, it said, was speeding at almost 97,000 kph – the fastest-ever human spaceflight – to intercept the comet five million kilometres from Earth. The nuclear detonation would heat up one side of the comet, producing intense out-gassing. This would create a jet effect, pushing Comet Santos on to a new course. This was only possible due to the slow rotation of this particular comet which would permit the thrust, expected to last around 40 minutes, to push in one direction.

  The new trajectory of the comet would be plotted within an hour of the detonation, said the commentator. The graphic showed a dotted line where the comet would pass close to the outer fringes of Earth’s atmosphere before hurtling off into space.

  Next came library footage of the two taikonauts who had volunteered to make the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of the world’s future. Their lives were already immortalised in China, said the commentary. They would be remembered forever as saviours by the peoples of all nations.

  The video feed reverted to the flight deck as the crew made last minute adjustments to their flight path. It was 6:09 according to the numbers in the corner of the screen. Eighteen minutes to detonation. The commentator explained that the live images they were seeing took 17 seconds to reach Earth from the ship. Nadia mentally added another two seconds for the relay to get to the Moon. They were seeing events almost a third of minute after they happened.

  The firing of the nuclear warheads would be automatic, based on split-second computer calculation of the approach. With a closing speed of 177,000 kph, the detonation timing would be critical.