by Greig Beck
But facing the universe meant being pummelled by meteorite strikes that left the surface with a heavily scarred and cratered morphology. It also meant the bases were at risk of meteor strike.
Benoit bounced toward her in the crawler, stopped right at her toes, and gave her a comical salute. Mia bet he would have tooted the horn if the crawler had one. She eased into the skeletal-looking machine with its beer keg–sized rechargeable battery on the back, tires that would make a truck rally crowd cheer, and an almost biological-looking suspension system that allowed each of the six wheels to move independently like some sort of large insect, and was the source of the name “crawler”. She shunted Benoit aside as she loved to drive.
Mia started them up and the electric crawler moved forward at around five miles per hour. The machine was silent, and the only sensation of motion was from the occasional bounce as they passed over larger than normal moon rocks. As it was sun-up time, everything was a grayish purple and would be for another few days. Their suits gave them ample protection from the heat, but she knew that they needed to avoid falling into a deep, permanently sunless crevasse, as there could be temperature zones of minus 200 degrees, and while the suits’ coolers were blowing, falling into a cold zone meant a snap freeze before the suit could work out it was supposed to be warming instead of cooling. You’d be dead before you could even call for help.
Their task today was investigating an asteroid impact a couple of klicks out in the northern solitude quadrant of the Deloris Lacus zone. It took them an hour to reach the place where the base scanners had said the asteroid came down. It wasn’t a large moon-fall, and was estimated to be only about the size of a suitcase. On Earth it would more than likely have burned up before it reached the surface. But here, everything gets through, and everything hits.
She stopped the crawler and stood in her seat, turning slowly.
“See it?” Benoit asked.
“Hold it.” Mia was looking for a darker patch on the already heavily pocked surface. Newly churned up moon dust was darker, not from underlying moisture, but because it just hadn’t yet been bleached by solar radiation for countless eons.
“Hey, Mia, anything?” Benoit asked again as he sat with arms folded across his stomach.
“No, wait – yes.” She pointed. “There. Not far, we can walk it.”
“Bring the kit?”
“Yeah, we’ll take a sample back. Let Tony look it over in his never-ending search for the origin of everything.”
Benoit snorted. “Ooh, more gifts for the magnificent Tony Handsome.”
“Jealous.” Mia chuckled.
“Pfft.” He glanced at her. “French people value brains and talent over looks.”
“Yeah, right. Says the guy who puts mousse in his hair – on the moon.”
Tony Miles was their senior geologist, and also the base heartthrob. He was damn good at his job and had movie-star looks. But even though everyone seemed to flirt with him, for whatever reason, he never reciprocated.
It didn’t really matter to her as she was sort of dating someone. Andy Clark was fun, from some place called Bondi in Australia, and had blond hair that never stayed combed for more than five minutes. Mia hadn’t come to the moon looking for a hookup, but when it happened, it was the best thing ever as it sure broke up the boredom. And up here, boredom could lead to depression, and that was the mind killer.
“Ally-oop.” Benoit easily carried the 150-pound sample case in the low gravity, and followed Mia to a newly formed crater with two-foot-high rim, and a circular spread of over fifty feet.
“Good size,” she said, stopped at its edge and looked down into the ten foot–deep crater pit. Right at the center of the depression there was the nub of rock. It was like an iceberg, as there was only about ten to twenty percent of the asteroid showing and the rest was buried.
Benoit joined her, put the case down, and stared into the hole. “There’s still a bit of light down there so shouldn’t be too cold.” He turned to her. “You want to do the honors or would you like me?”
“Be my guest,” she said and held out an arm. “Be careful and take it slow so your thermo system adapts.”
“Yes, Mommy.” He held up his fist.
Mia bumped it with her own and could just make out his grin behind his shaded face lens.
Benoit began to slide-walk down into the crater. “No unusual radiation,” he said and tucked the counter away.
Good, she thought. There was an abundance of high-energy protons, helium nuclei alpha particles, and high-atomic-number HZE ions zooming around the solar system, and this thing just dropped out of space. So there could have been some real heat recorded.
She watched as Benoit lowered the test case, unlatched it, and lifted the lid. There were various tools inside ranging from rock hammers and chisels to miniature battery-powered saws, as well as collection bags, vials, and boxes, and some reference manuals.
He first took out a small hammer and chisel and began to tap at the rock. He broke a few small pieces away, placed them in a jar and sealed it. He repeated the process on another section of the meteorite and then tucked the samples into padded slots in the case and looked about to finish up when the ground shook beneath their feet.
“Whoa.” He held his arms out.
The crater walls began to collapse inward.
“Get the hell out of there!” Mia yelled. She had the urge to slide down and help him but knew that was against protocol, as someone needed to stay in sight of the crawler, which had a remote camera onboard.
The shaking continued and she turned to the horizon, seeing a flaring light just over the ridge of rock a few hundred yards out.
Benoit climbed up to join her. “Phew. What was that? Felt like a quake?”
She continued to stare into the distance. “The moon doesn’t get quakes.” She narrowed her eyes. “It came from that direction.”
“Where the Russian base is.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” She started back to the crawler. “Let’s check it out.”
“We’ll need to call it in,” Benoit said.
“Yep, and that’s your job while I’m driving.” She climbed into the driver’s seat as Benoit tossed the case into the back. She turned. “But not yet. Let’s get a little closer so it’s too late for the boss to change our minds.”
* * *
“What’s that?” Mia stopped the crawler and craned forward.
Benoit lifted the scope to the front of his visor. The double-lensed apparatus was the closest thing to a telescope they had and presented a large and clear image of whatever it was pointed at. “A body,” he replied and took the scope from his eyes for a moment then replaced it. “Not moving. Go, go.”
Mia sat back and pushed the drive stick forward. The silent vehicle trundled at its top speed, barely registering the lumps and bumps beneath its oversized wheels. She stopped close to the prone figure and was first out, running in the usual bounce-fashion over the lunar scape with Benoit right at her heels.
She went to her knees beside the body. “Suit seems okay.” She gently turned the figure over. “Fuck. Hole in the faceplate and bleeding gas.” She stuck a hand over the pea-sized hole.
“On it.” Benoit ran back to the crawler and grabbed a medical kit. He opened it on his way back and drew out the adhesive rubber tape to slap a six-inch strip over the hole. The pair checked the suit for more breaches.
“Got a tear on the lower leg,” Benoit announced, and covered it over with more tape.
Mia leaned in close to the visor. “It’s a woman – alive, I think.” She squinted. “There’s something on her.”
“Suit seems okay now.” Benoit stopped at her ankle. “Oil spill or something on her leg.” He looked one way then the other. “Where’s the rest of them?”
Mia looked over her shoulder, noting the soft orange glow coming from just over the crater rim where she knew the Russian base was. She was torn; they should check it out, see if there were any o
ther people hurt. But this woman, right here, right now, might still be saved.
“Can’t wait, we gotta get her back to base.” She lifted the woman. “You drive.”
* * *
“Tom, we’re coming in hot. We’ve got a Russian female, suit potentially and helmet definitely breached. But she’s alive.” Mia felt her heart beating a mile a minute as she glanced down at the woman. “Inside her suit I think I can see blood. Or something.”
Captain Tom Briggs swore softly. “What of the base? We picked up a seismic disturbance from their direction – that was them?”
“We felt it too. And I saw a flash. We didn’t get to the base but I’m thinking something real bad happened there.” While Mia cradled the woman, Benoit drove, and she pointed him toward the external ramp that was already yawning open for them.
Mia looked back down at the unconscious woman. Behind her faceplate she was streaked in blood and something dark that might have been machine oil. There were streaks on her cheeks as though she had been crying.
Mia smoothed the tape over the crack in the helmet glass to stop her losing any more oxygen but couldn’t believe she was even still alive.
“You bring her in, and we’ll dispatch a team,” Briggs said.
“Have you tried contacting the Russians?” Benoit asked.
“Yes, and we’re getting nothing but static,” Briggs replied. “Take her straight to sickbay. We’ll be waiting. Out.”
CHAPTER 03
As they came down the ramp another of the crawlers waited for them to go past, and then slowly began to head up. The three occupants nodded at the incoming team. In their suits, Mia couldn’t make out exactly who they were but she bet there were two security personnel and probably one of the medics, who would be either Aleksandra or Xavier.
The door whined closed behind them and Mia and Benoit waited in the maintenance area as air was vented into the airtight room. Mia glared impatiently at the wall vents that seemed to fill their enclosure with breathable air at a glacial speed.
“Come on, hurry up,” she whispered.
Once the oxygen had replaced the lunar gases there came a flush of antiseptic mist plus a quick bath in UV light for decontamination – not that there was ever anything to decon as the moon was basically a sterile ball of dust and rock.
But protocols were damn protocols, she thought, as her impatience gnawed ever deeper. She leaned over the woman. “Hang in there,” she said softly, doubting the woman could hear. The words were more for her own benefit.
The light on the inner door lock went green, meaning the air was clean and all clear, and they could then, and only then, enter the main body of the base. Mia took off her helmet and fought the urge to wipe the hair up off her brow.
The doors slid back, and people rushed toward them with a wheeled gurney.
Mia looked down at the woman. “You’ll be fine now.” She helped lift her to the gurney and peered in through the cracked visor. “What happened out there, girl?”
The Russian woman was whisked away.
Mia turned to the external door and stared as though seeing through it to the Russian base. With their team on the way, they’d know soon enough.
“That’s all we can do for now.” Benoit took his helmet off and held it in one hand. His normally perfect hair was plastered down by perspiration. “Never a dull moment.” He grinned.
“Hope they’re okay – the other Russians I mean.” Mia punched the lock button and the portal door slid back. She stepped onto the grate that allowed any dust and grit to fall through and moved to the side where she began to shuck off the cumbersome suit.
Benoit had to use two hands and grunted as he hefted the sample case, now encumbered by normal gravity, up onto a bench. He removed his own suit.
In a few moments they stood in their underwear. There were dry showers close by, but she’d wait to get back to her pod before changing. She pulled on her sweats.
Benoit lifted the case. “You going past Lab-tech?”
“You know I am, but …” She pointed. “I’m only taking the samples, not that damned ten-ton crate.”
“Why do I have to lug the heavy stuff, inside and out?” Benoit looked mock hurt.
“Because you’re younger than I am.” Mia smiled, flipped the case open, and reached inside to remove the meteorite samples.
“Pfft, by six months.” The Frenchman grinned and finally got his own pullover on. “Catch you later.”
“Sure.” Mia headed off down the corridor, humming “Sweet Child o’ Mine”, by Guns ’n’ Roses. She noticed even more corridor tiles needed replacing. “Ain’t no place like home,” she whispered.
The air conditioning clicked and hummed, and probably needed a service as well. Unlike how spaceships or space bases looked in movies with their gleaming hospital-grade tiling, chrome railings, and bright lighting, the reality was very different. Dirt and dust got in, and after a while everyone thought cleaning was someone else’s job. When parts broke down, if there weren’t spares already sitting in storage, then they went on the requisition list, and sometimes they turned up in six months and sometimes they never did. And then the underlying problem was just lived with, and eventually became invisible. Domestic blindness, her mother used to call it – you never saw the peeling paint, cobwebs in the corners, or even tumbleweeds of dog hair stuck to the rug in your own home.
Before Mia got to the dormitory pods, she turned a hard left into the bio wing, where the first door that was open was the geology lab.
“Knock, knock,” she said as she walked in, hand behind her back.
Tony Miles swung his chair around and gave her a wide smile. “Hey Mia, what’d you bring me? Is it candy? Please be candy.”
She beamed back, feeling her heart thump in her chest. This guy is too handsome for his own good. So handsome, so unattainable.
“We-eeell, it’s hard, probably has an iron base, is slightly reddish in color, and um, fell from somewhere out of the wide black yonder.”
He rubbed his chin. “Um, is it a light saber?”
She held it up. “If by light saber, you mean something that looks like bits of broken nut cookie, then yes, exactly.” She handed it over.
“So, it is candy – space candy.” His eyes were firmly on the bag as he took it. Tony lived for this, and new asteroid fragments were enough to excite him for days.
He always said that sooner or later they’d find evidence of life, and even if it was hidden in a billion-year-old fossil, one day it would reveal itself.
He fingered the fragments through the bag. “Still needs to be sterilized, I guess.” He quickly slid open a draw and took out a small Geiger counter, switched it on and waved the rod over the bag.
“Yep, we didn’t do that. Hot out of the astral oven and delivered straight to your door.” She smiled, watching him.
The counter barely clicked so he put it down and looked up. “No problem, I’ll do it. But seems pretty safe.” He put the bag down on the desk. “Anything else?”
“Nope.” She smiled sappily, but he had already gone back to examining the rock sample. She scoffed softly. I’m invisible. Thank heavens for faithful ole Andy or I’d turn into a corn husk, she thought.
Mia headed out. She had work do to, but curiosity was eating at her about their new guest. Maybe later she’d pop in on sickbay and see how the Russian woman was doing.
She ambled down the corridor until she came to the intersection that branched toward the pods and another passageway leading directly to sickbay. She paused for a moment, then impulsively decided to take a quick detour to look in on her Russian.
Her Russian. She scoffed. For some reason, Mia felt some sort of ownership or care for the patient, seeing she was the one who brought her in. Plus, her curiosity was killing her. The strange thing was she also hadn’t heard back from the team who had headed out to the Russian base.
It was no big deal. The base was more than a mile away and if there were any sort of damage, the c
rew would probably hang around and offer to lend a hand.
She stopped at the long glass panel to view the sickbay’s recovery rooms. Their chief physician, Doctor Sharma Pandewahanna, was overseeing the woman, and at her shoulder was medical assistant Beverley Rhineheart. The Russian had had her suit removed and, for the first time, Mia could see what she looked like.
She’d been cleaned up and her shortish blond hair was swept back. Her cheeks were shiny enough to reflect the overhead lighting. She was a little older than Mia expected, maybe late thirties, and there were vertical lines between her brows and at the corners of her mouth. She was a handsome woman with a strong jaw line and a Slavic fold over her eyes. She slept but her face seemed troubled.
Mia tapped on the glass and waved. Sharma waved back and motioned for her to come all the way into the recovery room.
“There’s no contagion we can find so no quarantine.” Sharma raised her eyebrows. “And aside from some lumps and bumps, she seems fine.”
Mia’s eyes widened a little. “That’s amazing. I thought she’d at least have some lung or soft tissue damage from the helmet breach.” She tilted her head. “And there was some sort of oily black, uh, residue inside her helmet – what was that?”
Sharma bobbed her head for a moment. “Blood, old blood. But it also had some sort of enzyme within it. It had oxidized and was inert, but I’m still analyzing it.”
The Russian woman’s eyes moved behind her lids and she mumbled.
Mia leaned a little closer to her face. “Has she spoken yet?”
“No. But she should really be awake now,” Beverley remarked. “Bad dreams, I think; a lot of frowning and mumbling.”
Mia watched the woman’s lips, waiting for something. She had so many questions. They all did. She reached out a hand to brush a few loose strands of hair from one of the woman’s eyes.
At the touch of her fingers the woman’s mouth flew open and she let out a piercing scream that made Mia’s heart belt like a tiny, panicked animal in her chest.