Mother Moon

by Bob Goddard

  “I believe that Comet Santos has been the foot that stamped on the brake pedal. It impacted with such force that pressure has been applied to the liquid magma in the Earth’s mantle. This has transferred to all the weak spots in the crust where the magma has been forced out in multiple eruptions.

  “We have never witnessed an impact like Comet Santos before, so this is only a theory you understand, but one which fits the evidence we are seeing. Our two operational radio telescopes are recording well over a hundred new hot-spots on the Earth’s surface that correspond with known volcanic sites.”

  He brought up a map of the world with bright red stars indicating the new eruption sites.

  “So how about California?” blurted Will. “Sorry, but I have a personal interest in southern California right now.”

  Thijs looked at him with sorrowful eyes for a few seconds before replying. “I am afraid, Will, that your house in Monterey will most likely have been swept away by a tsunami if not shaken apart by earthquakes.”

  “My house isn’t important. I’m scared sick about Ginny who’s in the Sequoia National Park. It’s at the southern end of the Sierra Nevadas, about 200 kilometres inland from Monterey.”

  Thijs zoomed his map in to southern California. There was a red star east of Los Angeles with a grey-brown plume trailing from it.

  “This is a small eruption, Will, but perhaps south of the location you mentioned?”

  “Yeah, that’s a couple hundred klicks south-east of where Ginny is.”

  “Then it shouldn’t concern her. As you can see, the ash cloud is going east on the prevailing wind. She is well clear of any tsunami risk, but there is the unknown quantity of earthquakes. It is a seismically active region, I think?”

  “Yeah, it is.” Will brushed his hand over his hair several times, his agitation clear to all. “And I can’t call her. Been trying all day. Any idea when ISCOM will get our vidcall service running again?”

  “I’m not sure they can,” said Thijs. “There are so many satellites out of action, they may be struggling to find sufficient carriers for our data-heavy vidcall signals to establish a connection.”

  “There might be a way of communicating...” said Nadia. “Going back half a century or more most people made what they called a ‘phone call’. It was a sound-only transmission, so callers couldn’t see each other, only hear their voices. With no live video images the transmissions needed a tiny fraction of the bandwidth we use today.

  “I’m wondering if our head of IT can figure a way of sending these old phone calls. It might be primitive, but if we can get to speak to someone on the ground it would be better than nothing. I will ask him as soon as we finish this meeting and, if it is possible, I will let you know straight away, Will.”

  “Thanks.” His eyes met Nadia’s but he looked forlorn. “I’d appreciate that.”

  * * * * *

  Moon, 2087

  Tamala put her hand on his arm as Will stepped out of the Governor’s office.

  “I’m sorry you haven’t managed to speak to Ginny yet,” she said, “but while you’re waiting for this ‘phone call’ there is another young lady who’d like to talk to you.”

  “Who… erm,” he mumbled. Had Rachel asked Tamala to intercede on her behalf?

  “It’s Lian, Will!” She smiled at his confusion. “She’s waiting to thank you.”

  “She is?”

  “Of course she is. She’s still feeling fragile, but I think her moment of crisis is past. She needs people to talk to her, to help her feel wanted, needed and forgiven. And there’s only us, Nadia and the doctor who can see her at present.”

  “I’m not sure, Tamala. Got a lot on my mind right now.”

  “Oh, please, Will. Seeing you is a vital part of the recovery process for Lian.”

  “Really? Um. Okay then.”

  “And there’s something else you could do for her…”

  “There is?”

  “Yes,” Tamala turned her beaming smile on him. “I remember you telling me that Ginny taught you a special foot-massage therapy?”

  “Ah. The reflexology, you mean?”

  “Yes, that’s it. Doc Rozek says Lian has partial paralysis in her legs and that massaging her feet will help to reduce it. You could put your reflexology skills to good use.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Is He going to help?”

  “I sure hope so. I’m not too good at dealing with emotional women, let alone massaging their feet, for chrissakes. Besides, I have a broken wrist.” He held up his left arm.

  “You can do one-handed reflexology, can’t you? It’s all in a good cause, Will. We need Lian recovered and back to work as soon as possible. Speak to Doc Rozek, see what she says.” She raised her eyebrows. “Please?”

  He brushed his hand over his short hair. “Jeez Tamala! Well... I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Will.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “And good luck with the phone call.”

  * * * * *

  Moon, 2087

  “Lian?” The doctor leaned around the sick-bay door. “I have a visitor for you.”

  She turned back towards Will, smiled and opened the door wide to let him in.

  “Oh!” Lian’s hands flew up to cover her face. She was lying propped up in bed.

  “Ah,” said Will. “Maybe I should come back later…?”

  Doc Rozek grasped his sleeve and pulled him forward.

  “No, no.” Lian peeped from between her fingers. “No, please. Come in,” she said.

  Will stepped forward and the door clicked shut behind him.

  “I…” she started, “I am so, so sorry. I made you risk your life for me.” She lowered her hands. “I nearly killed us both.”

  “Hey. It was nothing. Really.”

  “It was very selfish of me. Very stupid.”

  “You were upset, I guess?” What the hell was he supposed to say to a woman who had just tried to kill herself?

  “Will you sit down please, Will? Talk to me for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” He sat awkwardly on the bed opposite. There was a long silence. He coughed. “Doc Rozek said something about you needing a foot massage…?”

  Lian looked at him levelly for a few moments. Then she reached down, gripped the top of her sheet and slowly pulled it up to reveal two pale and dainty feet.

  Will’s mouth was dry. He tried to swallow. This was going to be tougher than he’d thought.

  13. One Week After Impact

  Moon, 2087: Friday, 21st February

  Nadia stared at the half-illuminated, grey-brown globe on her window screen. It was hard to believe that the white polar ice-caps were all that remained visible of the Earth’s surface a week after Comet Santos slammed into the Atlantic Ocean. But there was the evidence, right before her eyes, the first image from the optical telescope since the main observatory was repaired.

  Before the impact, like all the colonists, she had gazed longingly at the waxing and waning face of their beautiful blue planet. When Thijs called her this morning to tell her the telescope was back in business, this ball of dust on her screen had shocked her to the core.

  She had tried to imagine what it might be like down there. Would it be completely dark? Or would noon still bring a glimmer of light through the choking gloom? There would be a thick layer of dust and volcanic ash coating everything, of that she was sure. Covering the trees and fields, buildings, streets, vehicles. Burying the bodies of cats, dogs and birds. Filling the rivers, lakes and oceans. Like a dim, grey Christmas card from hell. In the privacy of her tiny office she had slumped on her desk and wept.

  She shook her head to dislodge that memory and tried to concentrate on what Thijs Jansen was telling them.

  “…so after the success of the phone calls – I believe most of us managed to make voice contact with someone on the planet last weekend – I’m afraid there will be no further communication. Not until the dust thins and with this level of ongoing vo
lcanic activity, that’s not going to happen any time soon.

  “Many of the fires we’ve seen as hot-spots in forests and cities are dying down. They are either burning out or being choked by falling ash and dust. Surface temperatures in some regions are beginning to drop. In the coming weeks the global winter that was predicted will begin to take hold.

  “It is not a very encouraging picture, I’m afraid. But we do know that most of the nuclear power stations are still running from the heat signatures of their cooling towers. That means they are still being operated and maintained by service crews, otherwise they would go into automatic shut-down.

  “So there is power and the people will have light and heat in their shelters. They will be starting their own underground biospheres much like ours up here on the Moon. We must hope that those who found their way into shelters will survive and that one day – somehow – we will hear from them again.”

  Will thought about his parents in their bunker beneath the Mojave Desert. He’d spoken to his father three times using the cranky phone-call system their IT man had cooked up. Each call had ended with a plea for his dad to make contact with Ginny. To go find her. To get a search team together. Anything.

  But it was impossible, his father said. There were still violent aftershocks, his aircraft had been wrecked by the initial quake and a fire had burned every vehicle in the Terra Vivos car lot.

  His father had tried calling Ginny repeatedly. He’d had the same result as Will: her comm ringing out but nobody answering. Perhaps she’d dropped it and was making her way to a place of safety, he’d said, without conviction.

  And then Will had heard his mother’s voice in the background: “She always was a crazy coot, Norm. Thought more of her trees than she did of us. You know she must be dead. Why don’t you just tell him. He’ll find someone far better when this is all over.”

  Will had ended the call in disbelief. How could his bitch of a mom be so heartless at a time like this? When he’d tried to call the following day there was nothing but static. The winds had shifted, the ash cloud had covered the Mojave and that brief window of contact had closed.

  He realised that Tamala was speaking. “The loss of contact with Earth is affecting everybody. They’re missing the news and entertainment feed too. So I am setting up a sort of radio station to play music, share gossip, news and ideas among ourselves. Everyone can listen in via their comms. It will help to lift our spirits, I hope.

  “I have four people so far who have volunteered to act as DJs in their spare time and hope to have more soon. We will be ready to go live after your midday vidcast tomorrow, Nadia. Perhaps you can announce it then?”

  “Of course. That is a very good idea, Tamala.”

  “And you can make another announcement, if you will, please?”

  “Ah! You and Darren have decided, then?”

  “Yes, we are getting married a week tomorrow, Saturday 28th February, and everybody is invited!” Her smile lit up the room.

  “Congratulations,” said Will. He instantly regretted not sounding more enthusiastic, but his emotions were in hibernation.

  “I know it’s an old-fashioned idea,” said Tamala, “but it is what my parents would want. I can send them a video of the wedding as soon as we can communicate again. Nadia has agreed to officiate.”

  “So, will there be champagne, balloons and wedding cake?” asked Thijs with a grin.

  “Yes,” said Nadia, “we can have cake, but no wine. Maybe a little of our chemists’ narcotics again. I don’t know about balloons. Can we make them, Will?”

  “Hmm – I should think so. Some sort of synthetic rubber using silicone, I guess. I’ll ask that English guy, Doctor Robinson. See if his scientists can cook up something.”

  “Very good,” said Nadia. “We need more good news, entertainments and things to look forward to. We need to take people’s minds off the problems down on the planet. Well done Tamala, and congratulations of course.”

  “On the good news front,” said Tamala, “I’m delighted to report that Lian is up and walking today. She is using a zimmer frame that Will has made for her. It is only a few steps so far, but Doc Rozek says she is making very good progress…” she turned and smiled at Will, “largely due to Will’s daily massage sessions.”

  He coughed and rubbed his hand over his head in embarrassment.

  “Will’s reflexology technique has been a godsend for Lian. I’m thinking of asking him for a session myself to see if it will ease my backache.”

  Realising he was being teased, he gave her a crooked smile. “And I thought I was here for the engineering!”

  They all laughed.

  “I think maybe you have a new career opening up, Will,” said Carlos Ferreira.

  “Yeah, well, don’t book an appointment until you’ve seen my rates. You prob’ly can’t afford me.”

  “Not such good news,” said Tamala, cooling the mood, “is our Japanese gentleman, Mr Nakashima. The doctor tells me he is displaying symptoms of schizophrenia and his psychosis is not responding to the drugs she has available.”

  “Do we know for sure he is taking them?” asked Nadia.

  “Well… I should think so,” said Tamala. “He takes his tablets three times a day with his meals. A member of the Lunchbox staff takes his food to him and one of the engineers goes in with them, so there are two people to watch him take them.”

  “Hmm,” the Governor was thoughtful. “I think I will take his supper and tablets to him this evening and see what is going on.”

  “He’s been a real handful these past few days,” said Will. “We’re not getting any useful work out of him. My guys say he looks wild and outta control.”

  “Okay,” said Nadia. “I will discuss with Doctor Rozek. Maybe we will have to put his medication in his food. Leave it with me. Anything else, Tamala?”

  “No. That’s all for now.”

  “Okay. Will, your report, please.”

  “I’ll start with the mountain. As you can see…” he gestured towards the window screen on Nadia’s office wall, “the optical telescope and main observatory are online today. Had to divert my plass-weld team from farm tube installation, but they got the job done yesterday. We were able to pressure test, refill the water and get the place up to atmosphere this morning.

  “Thijs replaced the damaged screen, ran up all the equipment and got the main ’scope focussed on the planet this afternoon. It ain’t a pretty sight, but it’s good to get high-res pics of the planet again.”

  Thijs chipped in: “With both the optical and radar telescopes we get much more detailed information about what’s going on down there. I’m grateful to Will and his team for getting the observatory repaired so quickly.”

  “The two damaged radar dishes,” continued Will, “weren’t top priority. They are on the far side, not adding to our view of the planet. They should be fixed in three or four days.

  “The PV panels on the far side were a mess. Over half needed replacing so it’s a big job and ongoing. We are just keeping ahead of the approaching daylight, so power output hasn’t been affected, but it’s a scramble for the fabrication and installation guys. With luck and barring accidents we should get ’em all replaced by this time next week.”

  “We can’t afford any accidents, Will.” Nadia was frowning.

  “No, I know we can’t. I’ve been preaching safety to the guys all week. But I still don’t have a suit, so I can’t keep an eye on ’em, which is frustrating.”

  “When will your suit be repaired, Will?” asked Nadia.

  “Be another coupla days. Having to pick it to pieces to replace the sensors and control systems. It’s a tricky job we’ve not had to tackle before.

  “Anyway, despite the plass-weld team being pulled off the job, we got another tube tacked on to the farm today. That’s five since Comet Santos gave us the hurry up two weeks ago, so we’re on target for ten a month. Can’t go any faster.

  “Water retrieval’s goin’ good. The
two tractors are working round the clock now, so we are keeping up with demand and Lian’s fish tanks are all filled and good to go.

  “We’ve got the shelving half installed in the corridor tubes, so should be planting in there in a week or so. It’ll add the equivalent of two full farm tubes, without affecting foot traffic or emergency access. That was a great idea of Neelam’s.”

  “Yes,” said Nadia. “It’s good to have all these brains,” she nodded to Carlos Ferreira, “working for us. We were fortunate to have such gifted tourists stranded here with us.”

  “Even Andrei Lanimovskiy?” asked Tamala with a quizzical smile.

  “Yes, even him. Will tells me he is working well since we transferred him to the cavern.”

  “That’s right,” said Will. “He’s making PV panels and doing a half-decent job, earning his crust at last. The engineering boys goof on him but he’s learning to take a joke.” He smiled.

  “Gosh!” said Tamala, “A reformed character.”

  “Any more, Will?” asked Nadia.

  “There’s heaps of other stuff happening, but that’s the main news for now, I guess.”

  “Very well. Thank you all for your hard work. We are one week on from the comet impact, two weeks from the start of our emergency situation. We are making good progress but we still have a long way to go.

  “Right now we are producing less than a quarter of the protein and vitamins we need to consume every day to stay in good health. Our stock of some of these food items is depleting rapidly, so we will have to tighten our belts still further I’m afraid. A new round of ration cuts comes into effect tomorrow.”

  This was greeted with disappointed groans.

  “No choice, I’m afraid. Reduce today or have nothing at all tomorrow. Our catering chief has come up with a soya extract drink. It will replace some of the nutrition missing from our food. From tomorrow everyone will get this with their meals and will be required to drink it, even if it tastes a bit odd.”

  * * * * *

  Earth, 1504

  It took all their strength to drag the log-canoe catamaran through the shallows to where the creek met the sea. They paddled until they estimated they were far enough offshore, then turned down wind and hoisted the sail, heading due west.