Echoes In The Grey

by David Allan Hamilton

  They would run out of air before getting them up and running.

  Five panels remained. As they leaned the ladder up against Number Six, Kate asked, “Do you want to go see?”

  “Sure, but what am I looking for?”

  “You’ll get a sense of whether the panel could work. If the protective coating is smooth and crack-free, then we’re probably fine. If not . . .”

  Mary took a first careful step up the ladder and it plunged into the dusty ground beneath her until she was almost level with the dust again. Since she only had the one good arm, her balance was off.

  “Jump on it to make sure it’s secure, okay?”

  She hopped on the rung twice and it dropped again before stabilizing, then she continued her single-handed climb. A thin layer of powder coated the massive block, but she could make out the individual sections underneath it.

  “Step off the ladder, Mary, and walk over it. The panels are designed to hold weight. Brush some dust away to get a sense of its integrity.”

  She swung a leg on top of the angled panel, then the other, and secured her balance. Once there, she tested it, kicking here and there and inspecting the panels.

  “Are you seeing this, Kate?”

  “Yep, your cam’s good. That section you’re on now seems okay.”

  Mary continued, taking short baby steps toward the center of the panel. That’s when her boots sank. “I think I might break through it here in the middle. It’s all soft.”

  “Yeah, I see that. Can you tell what it’s like farther up?”

  She shifted her body and inched forward to the far, high side. With each step, her balance became more difficult to sustain.

  “Something’s not right with this one either, Kate. I’m coming down.” She crept toward the ladder and a couple of meters from it, the panel solidified again under her weight.

  “Take your time descending with that arm of yours, eh?”

  Mary wriggled off and went down one rung at a time. The two remained silent as they investigated the last four.

  When they’d finished, Kate dropped the apparatus into the dust and lowered her head.

  “That bad, is it?”

  “I believe so. I’m sure I could rig something up, but we don’t have time to repair them. Without power, there isn’t a lot we can do with the oxygenator.”

  Mary swallowed hard as a wave of fatigue swept over her. “How much time do we have now?”

  She reached out and held Mary’s good hand. “About six hours, give or take.”

  Mary headed back to the habitat and Kate followed. As she gazed up toward the external access portal, a blue light the size of a baseball flashed across the black sky over them, hovered, flickered, then disappeared.

  SEVENTEEN

  Carter

  “There is no law in space other than the laws of physics. Not really, anyway.” He tossed the last of his stale lunch sandwich on the desk and stared at his colleague.

  Ed Mitchell gaped at Carter. They’d returned to his now empty office from a quick info meeting in the comms room with Stan Petrovic and a gaggle of other technical types where they learned the details about the disaster at the Lunar Geophysical Lab.

  Carter resumed. “Oh, what’s with that puss, Ed? You know as well as I do that in a space environment, or on Luna or Mars or anywhere else out there, the laws and regulations we adhere to by UN agreement or otherwise are done so out of convenience. If, for example, we’re able to find that alien ship and secure its FTL technology, who would it belong to, hm?”

  Ed flopped into the Queen Anne chair, leaned his head back and exhaled. “Titanius, of course.”

  “You say that, and I say that, but the Lunar Coalition or the UN science types would undoubtedly claim it belongs to all of us, the whole collective Earth.” He loosened his tie. “I’d never hand that over to someone else. Never. But for me, the simple solution is to conceal that vessel and its capability. We keep news of that ship to ourselves until we’ve taken what we need from it. Oddly, this is something Braddock and I agree on.”

  Ed wore a face of complete exhaustion. He’d seen a lot over the years, but never anything like the destruction of the lunar lab occurring on his watch, and his eyes suggested deep guilt and remorse for the two workers marooned up there. “But how are you convinced an alien ship is on Luna? That was all rumors, wasn’t it?”

  Clayton smiled.

  “Wasn’t it?”

  “Let’s just say I now have insider information, and I won’t reveal my source.”

  “Understood.” Mitchell grinned. He was no dummy.

  “Captain Powell is overseeing the refueling and preparations of the Echo as we speak. She’ll be ready to fly in a few hours. The captain estimates a four and a half hour flight to the Moon, where we’ll rescue the two workers, salvage everything from our lab site before the vultures swoop in, and then find this Rossian ship.”

  Mitchell twisted in his chair, scrutinizing him. “What else is there, Clay?”

  “Ha! You know me too well, old friend.” He slapped him on the shoulder and continued. “Listen, I’m thinking of ordering a security cruiser from the Martian run to Luna.”

  “Which one?”

  “The Malevolent. Not built for speed, I grant you, but full out, she can reach the Moon in 12 hours and her defensive weaponry will keep the curious onlookers away. Her captain, Laura Russo, is outstanding too.”

  “Hence the comment about no real law in space.”

  Carter eyed him. For a moment, a caution flag rose with Mitchell. “Surely, nothing will come of it, but just in case, I’d rather be prepared for any possible outcome.”

  “Naturally. Can you give me some time to check on Malevolent’s supplies and capacity?”

  “Certainly, then call me as soon as I’ve got the green light to divert their course.”

  Mitchell still didn’t look convinced. He brushed a piece of lint off his sleeve and changed the subject. “The lunarsat images of the destroyed lab are already out there in the public domain. Other ships may be on their way to assist in a possible rescue mission, right?”

  “Esther Tyrone is managing the story on that with our media team. We can’t pretend the accident didn’t happen, and we can’t keep others away forever, but she’s telling all the outlets we’re launching an urgent mission to assess the damage and rescue the survivors, or else, recover their bodies.”

  “What if they’re . . .”

  “Still alive? Yes, that’s a complication.”

  Carter understood the reality of working in space: there was no room for error. A missed seal, a broken piece of equipment, and the result was most likely instant death. Esther convinced him that the two workers were alive and awaiting rescue, but unlike her, he held out little hope they’d ever make it. At some point, their oxygen would simply run out and that would be that.

  The thought of losing workers in one of his labs was unfortunate. The Spacer, Kate Braddock, wouldn’t be a huge loss. Those freaks were dead men walking anyway, and he remained confident she’d be easily replaced with someone less . . . ambiguous. Something about her way irritated him. And the Atteberry girl? Yeah, that was too bad with all her smarts and potential, but he wouldn’t shed a tear for the kid. She understood the risks when she accepted the internship, and Esther would likely wear it more than him.

  No, the worst-case scenario here was not death. Progress throughout history was built on the bones of loss and sacrifice all the time. Someone dies in a hovercar accident because of faulty mechanics, so we change the laws to force manufacturers to improve the safety of their cars. Food companies used to poison people with sugar in their products, until we understood the evils of sugar and banned it, but only after how many millions died of diabetes. And on it goes.

  He turned his full attention to Mitchell. “Ed, if those two are still alive, then we’re seen as the heroes in a race against time and space, literally, to bring them home. Even if we fail, we win, you see?”

 
“I do.”

  “That will ensure the negotiations with the TSA are a success, and that we’ll have our unfettered opportunity to develop the alien’s FTL technology with full public support.”

  Mitchell nodded, deep in thought. He’d started moving the chess pieces well into the future and by the smile on his face, understood that he liked what he foresaw. Mitchell’s eyes narrowed and that sweet, annoying grin of his returned.

  “What’s on your mind, Ed?”

  His colleague rose from the Queen Anne, sighed, stroked his chin, and gazed out the large picture window. “I’m thinking we use this opportunity to show off what the Echo can do.” Sullivan entered the room and took up a position beside Carter. “We need to keep this under wraps. No one believes those two are alive after the lab explosion, despite what Esther says, so there’s no panic for any others to go and poke around. She tells me the media are treating this as an unfortunate accident with virtually no chance of finding any survivors. So, we approach it that way, too. Then, if Kate Braddock and the intern are still alive when we get there, Titanius will not only score a public relations win, but we’ll also have at least a few days of unfettered exploration of the—”

  “—Rossian vessel site!” Carter beamed, faintly amused. “Marla, do you have intel on the closest ships to Luna?”

  She closed her eyes. He watched her eyelids flutter in that nervous habit of hers before she spoke. “The Englander is on her way, ETA two days. The Xing-Xing is standing by in low Earth orbit, offering to assist us. There’s been increased activity noted at the Prussian Cosmodrome in Baikonur, but no launch yet.”

  “That’s it?” Mitchell asked, his voice higher than normal.

  “Yes, Mr. Mitchell.”

  “God bless Esther Tyrone for keeping the response so quiet.”

  “I doubt God, or any other voodoo is responsible for this, Ed, but Esther is proving to be talented in several ways.” Carter grinned, a hint of deference in his tone. “This tells us we have a huge head start. Four and a half hours from take-off to arrival on Luna, and that’s not even pushing the Echo to her max. Powell says we could probably make it in under four.” He narrowed his eyes and smiled at the other two. “Time to see what our little ship can do.”

  Kate

  “Kate, I think the painkillers might be messing with my head. I just saw this weird blue light zip by . . . at least, I thought it was a light. Perhaps I’m pulling a Van Gogh or something. Strange . . .”

  Mary bounded toward the habitat and Kate followed, retracing their earlier footsteps in the dust as they returned from the badly damaged solar array. She stopped and did a 360, taking her time studying the black sky. No stars were visible in the sunlight, but the space still looked wrong, and only the Earth shone bright. Certainly, no mysterious blue light. That didn’t mean Mary hadn’t seen something, for she too had caught a wisp of blue in the sky when they’d stretched at the Apollo site on the way in. At least, she thought she had.

  Whether the phenomenon was associated with the alien ship at the Mare Marginis, or some other cause, it was the least of her worries now.

  “I might have seen it too, Mary, but I figured it was just the fatigue . . . hallucinations. But I doubt we’d experience the same thing, so whatever it is, I’m thinking it’s probably real.”

  They passed the LunaScootas still lashed together and resting on their nacelles in the soft dust to the right of the main access portal. Kate peeked over at them while Mary wrestled with the hatchway. That’s when the idea struck her.

  “Let’s take another look at the power feedline junction, Mary. Perhaps we can do something with the scooter batteries.”

  Inside the habitat, Mary sat on the control console worktop, holding her slinged arm in her good hand. Kate knelt at the junction box and examined the cabling system, following each line into the power splitter, then out again.

  Mary’s voice broke her concentration. “Kate, even if we hook up the scooter batteries, we still won’t know if the oxygenator and filters will function, right?”

  Kate grunted as she yanked a stiff cable from its connecting hose in the junction box. She paused and turned toward Mary. “That’s correct, but let’s work on one problem at a time, okay? The solar panels are toast, so we can’t use those. Unless there’s another back up system here—which I haven’t seen—then the scooters are our only hope. Agreed?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, let’s try powering up this console room, and get the comms or life support systems working.” She cleared out a second cable from the junction and inspected the connector. “Mares, go check the accessory bin on the scooter for a box of connecting adapters. It’s about the size of a boot.

  Mary slid off the console and slipped through the internal access portal.

  This can work. The only question is, for how long?

  The dust could be a problem too, but Kate believed the batteries and overall power systems were built to withstand this kind of environment and may not be affected. Only one way to find out.

  “Got it, Kate. Heading back in.”

  Kate snaked a thick power cable from one of the external ports on the junction box up to the main input node on the console. This was the primary power branch for the entire habitat, including life support systems. With the correct adapter, she’d hook this right up.

  “Put it on the console, Mares.”

  The latch holding the small box closed was frustratingly annoying to turn with thick, lunar gloves, but Mary tried it and popped the lip up. The box folded open revealing a plethora of various adaptive connectors, short connecting cables (none of which would help in the habitat) and tools.

  “What kind are you looking for?”

  “We need one that’ll accept the five pins on the junction box and adapt to three pins on the scooter’s power cable.”

  “Like this one?” Mary held a connector the size of a plum in her palm.

  “Perfect! By running the external cable from the scooter batteries to the junction box here, then connecting this power line,” she pointed to the thick cable lying across the dusty floor from the junction to the console’s power port, “we could be in business.”

  “I’ll dig up the cable.” Mary hopped out of the console room with more energy, and Kate allowed herself a few seconds of hope, a moment of thinking ahead to eventual rescue and getting away from that Rossian thing. Then, from out of nowhere, Jim’s smile appeared in her mind. She stopped her work with the connector, shook her head, and smiled. Since being kidnapped by the Spacer Program and undergoing the surgeries, Kate hadn’t understood gender, sexuality, but that changed when she returned to civilian life, and she saw it changing again now.

  “Kate, the external power cable is marked at twenty meters long. Is that enough?”

  “More than enough. If you can drag the end to the outer wall junction access port—it’ll be exactly on the other side of the habitat from where I’m working—then I’ll come out and hook it up with the adapter.”

  Silence floated over her helmet radio. Mary’s voice crackled. “I see the junction input, but it’s . . . it’s covered in dust, Kate. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “I’m hoping it’ll still work. Brush the crap off the junction ports as best you can.” A bead of sweat dripped off her forehead, and she looked up at the stark grey wall in front of her. “Are the access ports sealed, Mary? If they’re full of dust, we won’t—”

  “Yes, they’re covered up, Kate! There’s five ports, all sealed.”

  “I’ll be out in a second.”

  She attached the power cable from the junction box to the console with a shove and a twist and noted the cable map: external cable from the scooter enters port two . . . internal power cable goes from port two to the console’s power port.

  “How’s your oxygen, Mares?” Kate followed her footprints around the side wall where she saw Mary holding the cable in her good hand, looking off toward the lunar horizon.

  Without turning her h
ead, she said, “Um, another four hours on this tank.”

  “Same here.” A pause. “You see that blue light again?”

  “Oh no, I’m just thinking how beautiful it is up here, and how fortunate I am.”

  Kate couldn’t suppress a surging laugh and snorted, “Mary, not to put too fine a point on it, but we’re not out of the woods yet.”

  She turned to face her. “Still, this is better than anything.”

  Kate felt an odd mix of mocking curiosity and admiration. Was Mary overly naïve? Not likely. So, how did she see past life-threatening danger, beyond present circumstances to something other, something greater?

  The ports were arrayed pentagonally on the external face of the junction box and clearly numbered, so she grabbed the metal ring for port two and yanked hard.

  “Damn.”

  The port cover didn’t budge. She snagged the small mallet from her belt and tapped around the seal. This time, when she pulled on the ring, the seal hinged open, exposing the clean, five pin plug. Kate wondered if they had ever used these external ports.

  “Now let’s get that adapter on the scooter cable.”

  Mary handed her the cable end and with a few twists of her hand, Kate attached the adapter. Then, she plugged the other end of the connector into the five-pin port by putting all her weight against it until it slid in. Another twist secured the connection.

  “Is that it?”

  “Yep, come on, let’s get this shit-hole fired up.”

  Inside the control room, Kate checked and double-checked the cable wiring. She sealed the two access hatchways to the sleeping quarters, then ensured the main airlock was sealed.

  “First let’s bring power to the console. If we can, and if there’s sufficient current, we might pressurize this room and get the life support systems working.”

  “Nova!”

  “Ready?”

  Mary nodded. Kate walked the length of the power cable running from the junction box to the console power port and took one last look around. She had no idea whether this main room was airtight, but she’d soon find out.