The Moon Platoon

by Jeramey Kraatz

  8.

  The inside of the garage was almost as bright as the outside, with steel walls and dark-stained concrete floors reflecting an entire ceiling made of light. Half the structure served as a work space and tinkering grounds for the McGuyvers, where they were currently dismantling the front end of the crimson Space Runner Elijah had driven earlier. The other side of the garage was a sort of showroom. Space Runners in dozens of colors and models—types Benny had never seen before—lined the floor, alongside what looked like normal dune buggies and classic cars that had been retrofitted in order to function on the Moon.

  Once inside, the Mustangs split up, running back and forth, trying to see everything at once. Jasmine observed the McGuyvers, keeping her distance from them. Benny climbed inside a two-seater buggy, bouncing in the driver’s seat.

  “The tires on this thing are nuts,” he murmured, imagining what a wild ride he could have racing it over the dunes of the Drylands, wondering what speeds it could reach.

  “Dude, Benny, why are you bothering with that thing?” Drue called from across the garage. He ran his hands over a silvery Space Runner shaped like a long, thin rocket. “Look at this beauty! Oh, man, I gotta see what’s under the hood.”

  Drue started pulling on the front of the car, his face turning red. When that didn’t work, he banged his fist on the hood, as if that might cause it to spring open.

  “Hey, hey, careful with that!” Ash McGuyver shouted, walking swiftly toward Drue while cleaning an oversize torque wrench on the front of her coveralls. “That’s a prototype with a one-of-a-kind synthetic-mercury paint job.”

  “Synthetic mercury?” Drue asked. “What the what? Okay, I’ve got to take a few buckets of that back with me. Can someone contact my dad? He can have his lawyers or whoever figure out how to get it down to Earth.”

  Ash turned to Ricardo, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and toward the exit. “I’m banning this kid from the garage.”

  “Give it a break, Lincoln,” Hot Dog said, running her finger over the trunk of the silver vehicle. “You can paint your daddy’s Space Runner back home any color you want, but this looks like too much car for you.”

  Benny watched Drue’s face turn an even darker shade of red.

  “I can handle my own in any Space Runner. Have you ever even been behind the wheel of one of these things? Today’s automated flight doesn’t count.”

  “I’ve logged over three hundred hours in SR flight simulators back home. For most of last year I was the top-ranked sim pilot in the world!” Her shiny lips curved down into a frown. “Until I had to stop going to the arcades.”

  “There’s a big difference between a sim and the real thing,” Drue said. He cracked his knuckles. “If you crash in a sim, you can hit reset. In real life, you might die. These are machines, not toys.”

  Hot Dog narrowed her eyes. “What makes you think I’d crash?” she asked.

  “All I’m saying is that I’m a dude who’s got some actual experience behind the yoke of one of these things. I could totally beat you.”

  “Why not prove it?” Ricardo asked, stepping toward the two.

  It was only then that Benny realized everyone was watching them. “Oh, boy,” he murmured. He’d figured Drue’s mouth would get him in trouble eventually, but he was kind of hoping it wouldn’t be on the first day. Especially since so far Drue was the only person he’d really talked to all that much.

  “What do you mean?” Drue asked.

  Ricardo fixed his steely gaze on the boy. “Our first activity today was going to be testing the team’s aptitude in the Space Runners. Why don’t we start by pitting the two of you against each other to see who the better pilot is?”

  “I’m game,” Hot Dog said. She sneered at Drue, whose mouth was now hanging open. “What’s the matter? Getting cold feet in that expensive space suit?”

  Drue let out a snort. “Let’s do it, but I call dibs on this silver one.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Ash said. She tapped on a HoloTek and suddenly the floor beneath several of the Space Runners on the other side of the room sank into the ground. There was a rumbling beneath them, and then another platform rose, a new line of cars replacing the old ones. “Here, you can take two of the SR trainers. At least that way if you lose control, Pinky’ll save you.”

  “Ashley, will you get them strapped in and ready?” Ricardo asked. “The rest of you, outside. Let’s see what your teammates can do.”

  Benny climbed out of the Moon buggy and followed the rest of the Mustangs. As he passed Hot Dog and Drue, they both looked over at him. He gave them two thumbs-ups, said “Good luck!” without specifying who he was talking to, and then continued out into the Grand Dome. There, the Mustangs were starting to clump into groups of three or four. He spotted Jasmine standing alone, inspecting one of the neon-blue palm trees. In fact, as he thought back to it, Jasmine had been alone most of the tour. One thing he’d learned in the caravan was that it was always best to have a partner, even if you were just going off over a dune to get away from the noise of the campsite. The Drylands were too dangerous to face alone—despite his occasional solo ATV rides—and while the Taj was certainly different, he figured the same principle applied.

  “Who do you think is going to win?” he asked, stepping up behind her.

  Jasmine tensed for a moment before letting out a breath and answering. “I have no idea what their abilities are.” She paused. “But I’m really, really pulling for Hot Dog on this one.”

  “You know,” Benny said, nodding, “I think I’m with you on that.” Drue could definitely stand to be taken down a peg.

  “If you’ll turn your attention upward,” Ricardo said once they were out on the dark gravel. “Pinky, load Möbius Track A-Seven.”

  In the open sky beyond the protection of the Grand Dome, a holographic course appeared, stretching well beyond the length of the Taj. It pulsed with a rainbow of colors. If Benny was seeing it right, after the first turn the Space Runners would actually be driving upside down for half a lap.

  “The Taj is equipped with a number of preprogrammed courses,” Ricardo explained. “Using antigravity tech, the Space Runners’ hyperdrives lock on to the hologram, ensuring that they stay on track. Later in the week, you’ll be designing your own courses.”

  “Whoa,” Benny said, for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

  “If you take out your new HoloTeks, you can follow along and see how your teammates are doing,” Ricardo continued. “There they are now.”

  Two Space Runners alighted on the course’s black-and-white checkered starting line. Benny patted his pockets before realizing he’d left his HoloTek in his room. Jasmine noticed, raising both eyebrows.

  “Forgot mine,” Benny said sheepishly.

  “I don’t know how you could let something like that out of your sight,” she said. “Here. We can share this one.”

  She pulled on the corners of her HoloTek until it was large enough that they both had to hold it. The screen was split into four quadrants—dash cam views of the track ahead of the drivers and of the drivers’ faces themselves.

  “No shame in backing out now, blondie.” Drue’s voice came from the HoloTek.

  “I’ve been beating boys like you since I was in kindergarten,” Hot Dog sneered. “Always thinking I can’t win video games or flight sims. I may even give you a head start just so I don’t feel bad about taking you down.”

  “The first driver across the finish line at the end of the third lap wins,” Ricardo said. His voice was coming out of the HoloTek now. Benny guessed he must have been patched into the Space Runners. “Give it your best shot. If you take a look to your left, you’ll see that you’ve got an audience.”

  He pointed to the top of the Taj’s golden tower where a small window had opened. A figure stood there, silhouetted by the light pouring out from behind him.

  “Elijah,” Benny whispered.

  Back on the screen in front of him, he watched both d
rivers tighten their grips on the flight yokes.

  “It’s our first race of the 2085 EW-SCAB,” Ricardo shouted. “Drue Lincoln versus Hot Dog Wilkinson.”

  He paused for a few seconds as the crowd cheered. Benny let out a whoop. Jasmine just smiled.

  “On your marks,” Ricardo continued. “Get set. Drive!”

  Both Space Runners shot forward, going from zero to a hundred miles per hour in a matter of seconds according to the stats scrolling across Jasmine’s screen. Drue let out a shout that devolved into laughter as his car accelerated, but Hot Dog stayed quiet, gritting her teeth and sitting up with a rigid posture as she focused on the course ahead of her.

  The track was nothing but a blur of color on the dash cams, a kaleidoscope of light that the vehicles raced over. Both Space Runners were neck and neck going into the first turn, but as they approached the curve, Drue jerked his flight yoke and twisted his car slightly, until it looked like he was about to careen into Hot Dog.

  “Hey!” Hot Dog shouted, tapping her brakes to avoid a collision. “Are you nuts?”

  “Eat my Moon dust!” Drue yelled as he pulled ahead of her. He turned to the camera aimed at his face and stuck out his tongue. “See you guys at the finish line.”

  Benny watched as both Mustangs completed the curve and continued racing upside down, suspended on the bottom of the course thanks to their hyperdrive engines. He kept his eyes on the track ahead of them, trying to imagine what his moves would be.

  He realized there was no way he’d stand a chance if he were the third Space Runner up there.

  He looked over at Jasmine, whose forehead was creased with worry as she watched the race unfold on her HoloTek. She was obviously incredibly smart—even Elijah knew who she was. It seemed to Benny that all the EW-SCABers were incredible in some way. Even Ramona. They all had something in particular they excelled at.

  Benny was good with ATVs, sure. But did that even matter, when Space Runners were the way of the future?

  What did he have to offer his teammates?

  Everyone around him in the Grand Dome was cheering. Back on the track, Hot Dog wasn’t giving up on the race. She stayed on Drue’s tail all through the next lap and a half, her face determined, eyes unblinking as Drue continued to heckle her.

  “Why so slow?” he asked. “Checking your hair in the rearview mirror?”

  Finally, as they were upside down and approaching the final turn, she spoke up. “You know what your problem is, Drue?” she asked.

  “Please, tell me, Ms. Dog.”

  She twisted her flight yoke sideways while hitting the instrument panels. Suddenly her car was swerving past Drue’s—she’d tapped the Space Runner’s gravity break at just the right time to send her car sliding at incredible speed through the last curve, shaving a few seconds off her lap.

  She grinned. “You think that just because I have perfect hair and lip gloss, I can’t school your butt on the track.”

  Her Space Runner zoomed over the finish line. Benny watched Drue’s mouth drop open.

  “How . . .” was all that managed to escape his lips as the kids on the ground applauded and cheered even louder. Benny had only known Drue for half a day, but he felt pretty sure that this was probably one of the few times he’d been beaten in his life.

  “Go ahead and take a few victory laps, Hot Dog,” Ricardo said. “Pinky, bring Drue’s Space Runner back down.”

  Drue’s car entered the courtyard through the pressurization tunnel, coming to a stop in front of the fountain. Drue jumped out and stomped toward the Taj. Benny started after him to at least tell Drue that he’d put up a heck of a fight.

  “Stupid upside-down turns,” Drue seethed. “Pinky probably held my car back just to let her win.”

  “Hey,” Benny said. “You all right?”

  Drue stopped, glaring back at him. “What do you think?”

  Benny was at a loss for words, trying to figure out what he could say. Drue just stood still, staring up at the window where Elijah’s silhouette had been. Now there was nothing there.

  “I’ve got to show him,” he said quietly. “I deserve to be up here, too.”

  Before Benny could respond, Pinky’s voice filled the Grand Dome, thunderous and echoing, louder than anything Benny had heard all day.

  “Warning!” she shouted. “Everyone, get back into the Taj. My sensors have just picked up a—”

  But Benny didn’t hear what she said after that. All he could focus on was Hot Dog’s Space Runner and the glowing comet that looked like it was headed straight for her.

  “Look out!” he shouted, but it was no use. She couldn’t hear him.

  Fortunately she must have seen the piece of debris coming, because her Space Runner jerked to the side at the last second. The rock shot past her, landing somewhere outside the Taj’s dome.

  “Man, what was that? It almost hit her,” Benny said. “She really is a good driver. No offense.”

  Drue let out a sigh. “That, or the Space Runner took its own emergency maneuvers. They’re programmed to do that—”

  He shut up as a second rock slammed into the side of Hot Dog’s car, sending it flying off the track and away from the Taj.

  “Hot Dog!” Benny yelled.

  Ricardo barked something about contacting Elijah into his HoloTek while the rest of the Mustangs erupted in panicked screams.

  “Benny!” Jasmine ran to his side, holding her HoloTek out. On it, Hot Dog was a spinning, screaming blur. “The power went out, along with the artificial gravity. The backup battery just kicked in, but she’s lost control!”

  “Why isn’t Pinky taking over?” Benny asked.

  “Her systems must be damaged,” Drue said, shoving himself between Jasmine and Benny.

  “Um, Mayday?” Hot Dog’s voice came through the device. “Anyone? My controls aren’t responding.”

  “Here, I can adjust the video to spin with her so we can see what’s happening,” Jasmine said, tapping on the screen.

  Hot Dog’s image was stable, then, her hair flying all around her, body pushing against the restraints holding her in her seat.

  Ricardo was trying to wrangle the Mustangs all around the dome, but no one wanted to go inside until they knew what had happened to the out-of-control Space Runner. To make matters worse, other teams had started spilling out into the Grand Dome from the Taj’s front doors as the other Pit Crew members raced to Ricardo’s side.

  “Come on,” Hot Dog yelled, reaching forward as best she could and slamming her fist against the dashboard. “Come back to life, stupid!”

  There was a banging sound somewhere behind her, and a glittering flash of light around her head. Suddenly all her hair was smooshed up around her face, as though it were trapped in a bubble.

  “Her space suit turned on its gravitational force-field helmet,” Jasmine said. “That means the cabin must be depressurizing.”

  Hot Dog looked directly into the camera.

  “I’m going to try deploying the emergency parachute,” she said. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have eaten so many of those sna—”

  The connection cut out.

  “Oh, no,” Benny murmured.

  “Hot Dog?” Jasmine tapped on the screen. “Hot Dog, come in!”

  Benny looked to the sky, hoping to find her regaining control. Instead, he saw dozens of jagged boulders all shooting toward the Taj’s dome.

  9.

  Glowing rocks rained down on the Grand Dome, exploding against the invisible bubble keeping the resort safe, bathing the courtyard in a split-second flash of blazing blue-and-orange light. With every impact, the Lunar Taj shook.

  Chaos broke out as EW-SCABers ran in every direction, most trying desperately to get through the front doors and into the main building. The Pit Crew was shouting orders, but they were fighting to be heard over Pinky’s warnings and alarms.

  Benny had been in more than one freak dust storm in his lifetime. He knew the importance of finding shelter when things suddenly looked
grim.

  “Let’s go!” he shouted over the roaring noise, pulling Drue and Jasmine’s arms.

  They followed Benny as he made for the closest structure—the garage.

  “We shouldn’t be running,” Jasmine said once they were inside. “We should duck and cover. Like in an earthquake.”

  “This is no earthquake,” Benny said, though at that point another explosion sent tremors coursing through the resort.

  “Hot Dog’s out there in all this!”

  “We can’t do anything to help her if we’re dead!”

  Inside the garage, another blast caused Benny to stumble forward. He caught himself on the crimson Space Runner the McGuyvers had been disassembling. The mechanics were nowhere to be seen.

  “Good idea!” Drue said, pulling open the Space Runner door and sliding into the driver’s seat.

  “What are you doing?” Benny asked. “This is no time to—”

  “Are you kidding?” Drue flipped a few switches on the dashboard. Benny felt a buzz under his hands. “Space Runners have gravity shields. This is extra protection!”

  Jasmine looked between Drue and Benny and then slid into the backseat. Benny followed her, just as another bang shook the garage.

  “This is bad,” Benny said once they were all inside. “Will the force fields hold up outside, Jasmine?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because you’re the one who seems to know how everything works. And it looked like those rocks were exploding. Was that fire? How is that possible? There’s not any oxygen outside, right?”

  “I don’t know.” Jasmine blinked a few times, chewing her bottom lip.

  “Hey,” Drue said. “It’s quiet now. Think it’s over?”

  The door connecting the garage to the Lunar Taj slid open. Elijah West bolted in, hologram stats and charts floating in front of him. Drue gasped. Pinky, Sahar, and the Miyamura twins followed him, with Max and the McGuyvers making up the tail end of the group.

  Pinky was speaking.

  “Preliminary data shows that they’re most likely asteroids. I’ll need a sample in order to be sure of their composition—that might help explain their incendiary nature.”