“Come on, Mares, get up.” Kate’s voice sounded surreal to her in the soft hum of the control room.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” Mary inhaled and pulled herself up from the console, her long body stretching. She rotated the shoulder of her injured arm and Kate noticed the improvement. “So . . . it wasn’t just a dream,” she mused, throwing a mischievous smile Kate’s way.
“Afraid not.” She gazed around the room. “You didn’t happen to find any food in your travels, eh? I’m starved.”
“Not yet, but I only explored the sleeping quarters. There must be a galley here somewhere.” She hopped down to the floor, caught her balance, and wandered to the other access hatchway—the one she couldn’t open earlier. “Probably in here.”
Kate inspected the sealed airlock. “Well, let’s hope we won’t be here much longer. The oxygenator’s working, the scrubber’s seen better days, but I’ve been in worse in my Spacer travels and we can always pull a blast from the canisters if needed.”
“You sure this oxygenator thing is okay?”
Kate listened to the hum of the machines. Nothing struck her as suspicious, and she’d been around a lot of ships, stations, outlink hubs, and machinery in her time. Still, she recognized that danger remained close, no thicker than the 18 centimeters of doubled lunar concrete walls separating them from the harsh environment.
“Sounds okay to me, but you raise a good point. Let’s not be stupid. Suit up, helmets off but at the ready. If there’s a breach, or if an airlock leaks, we won’t have time to get everything on again.”
They pulled their suits from the hangers and climbed into them. Kate’s still felt damp in places and could use an ion clean, but otherwise serviceable. Once Mary suited up, Kate helped her with the sling.
“How is it?” she asked, nodding to her arm.
“Okay. Sore, but not painful. The medi-patch helps a lot.”
They carried their helmets back to the console. Kate studied the main viewscreen and smiled. “Other than the scrubber, we’re in good shape if the battery power holds, but let’s not take anything for granted. We’ve got things to do: contact Earth and make sure our O2 supply lasts twice as long as we think we need.”
“I’ll count up the hours in the canisters.”
“Okay. Let’s check out the sleeping quarters for a radio, or any kind of emergency transmitter or beacon. Whoever was here last removed pretty much everything from the console, but you never know. We might find useful gear in one of the storage lockers. I’m going to poke through this junk for something we can use.”
Mary shifted her attention to the collection of canisters near the main access hatchway, and placed her helmet beside her, aiming its light at the grouping. She counted them and then joined Kate who knelt on the floor, pulling various pieces of gear out from a cupboard under the console.
“There’s a box of two inch bolts,” she said, hauling a long, green metal container out. “Probably for the solar array or one of the mining machines.” She placed it in the pile beside her. “Nothing that looks like a transceiver of any kind, but this thing,” she handed a small black box to Mary, “is a radio measuring device, right?”
Mary turned the instrument over in her gloved hands. “It appears to be passive with no battery terminals or other power ports. Dad’s used this kind of thing before for measuring standing waves.”
“What’s that about?”
“You use it to make sure your antenna is resonant so all the juice going into it doesn’t come back down the feedline.”
“That tells us something.”
They continued searching through the storage cupboards under the console, pulling out all kinds of things: cables, boxes of rock samples, a few detailed maps of the Aristoteles crater, and other odds and ends.
“Nothing here,” Mary said, “but I found a 12 volt battery. Someone clearly had a radio up here other than the official comms station, and there’s still the sleeping quarters and the galley to check out.”
The pressure indicator at the hatchway to the workers’ area showed air in the chamber. They fixed their helmets on and Kate hauled the door open. Once inside the airlock, she secured the internal port, depressurized the cell, and opened the second hatchway to the room where Mary had found the first oxygen canister shortly after they’d arrived.
“Let’s go through everything here, Mares, even the areas you covered before.”
“Roger.”
“Note the time on your chronometer and O2 reserves, eh?”
They raced through the sleeping quarters, searching every locker, under every trashed cot and in the few remaining bedside tables. They stepped through the massive breach and poked about in the moon dust in case something had been dragged out, but the only useful items they found included a worker’s tablet (no idea if that even worked), and a pair of gravity shoes.
“There’s still the galley, Kate.”
“Yeah, squeezing into that cave is the trick.”
Back in the control room, they kept their helmets on and studied the access hatchway leading to the galley. It appeared to be sealed shut internally, but Kate knew these habitats often had hidden external panels from her Spacer days. After several minutes of visually inspecting the hatchway, she found a smooth cover to the right of the port, flush with the concrete wall but clearly visible once she’d brushed the dust away.
Three buttons the size of poker chips sat in a vertical line inside the panel.
A combination code.
She pressed the switches in their order, from top to bottom, after which they blinked red. When the lights reset, she tried them in reverse order with the same result. She hesitated before trying another code.
“What’s the matter?”
“These things usually have a limited number of attempts before there’s a permanent lock out. I guess the managers didn’t want the grunts helping themselves to extra rations.”
“How many tries?”
“Five is the standard, then full shut down. But that’s with four or more code buttons. This only has three, so who knows?” She shrugged her shoulders in resignation. “Let’s see what happens.”
Kate keyed a new code and red lights came up again. When she pushed the knobs to enter another, they had frozen and would not even depress.
The hatchway had locked them out.
Esther
She’d analyzed this problem throughout the afternoon in between checking on projects back at the TSA office and deflecting all manner of media inquiries about the status of the Titanius Geophysical Lab: how to finesse him without his knowledge? Logic, naturally, but what else?
You have nothing to lose, Esther.
She rode the elevator up from the communications center to Clayton Carter’s office on the 43rd floor, exhausted, worried, and rehearsing her best demeanor. Marla Sullivan met her in the anteroom and ushered her through. “He’ll just be a minute, Dr. Tyrone.”
A black leather flight bag sat open on his desk and she registered that he was preparing to board this new ship and head to Luna. Esther lowered herself onto the sofa and leaned back, closing her eyes, allowing herself a moment of peace from the stress-filled day. Voices in the hallway drifted in and she realized most of the people here had also been running full-throttle for hours, yet no one complained. They simply went about their jobs like professionals. Clayton’s manner suggested he demanded a lot as a leader, from his employees and his executive team. Apparently, they responded with energy and loyalty she only dreamed of from her group of life-long bureaucrats at the TSA.
Stay focused, Es.
The CEO’s baritone in the anteroom interrupted her thoughts. She sat rigid on the sofa, listening as he barked half a dozen orders to Sullivan, then entered the office.
“Looks like you’re ready to go, Clayton.”
“Yes,” he bellowed, in a warmer tone, “We’re scheduled to leave at 0100 Greenwich time.”
She smiled weakly, bearing the weight of those two lives on her sh
oulders. “I take it you’ve been to space before.”
“Many times, but I’ve never set foot on Luna, so this will be a new adventure for me and the whole crew too. This’ll be the first time the Echo leaves Earth’s orbit.” He zipped up his flight bag and sat down beside her. She breathed in his cologne, a faint reminder of last night that, now, seemed like an encounter from her deep, distant past.
“Thanks for seeing me before you leave. There’s a couple things I want, and you may not appreciate what I’m about to ask of you.” She widened her eyes at him.
His brow furrowed, and Esther felt genuine concern spreading across his face. Concern for what though?
“I know you want to explore the alien site, and honestly, if I was in your position, I’d want the same thing. But this is really problematic for me.”
He hardened. “I don’t understand.”
“The Terran Science Academy is the de facto leader in the search for extra-terrestrial life. Sure, we rely on plenty of other organizations and individuals to help in that task, but at the end of the day, people come to us for our expertise, our credibility and facilities. So,” she continued, “if you become the first human to contact an alien vessel or the creatures themselves, it would not only undermine the TSA’s efforts, but it could also cause considerable damage to our world governments, our economy, security, you name it.”
Clayton sighed and stroked his chin. Then he stood and strolled to the picture window. “Yes, I see your point, Esther. It’s the old UN Protocol on First Contact. I sympathize, of course.”
“There’s a solution to this, an easy one.”
“Go on,” he said, facing her.
“Take me with you.”
“No,” he snorted.
“Make this a joint Titanius-TSA rescue mission.”
“Not a chance.”
She wouldn’t quit that easily. “Clayton, it makes sense. Reason it out. What better way to test our negotiations? If we’re considering teaming up, this is the perfect opportunity to demonstrate just how effective the partnership can be.”
He stood, arms folded across his chest in a stoic pose, eyeing her with deep suspicion.
The worst he could say is no.
Esther continued. “It’s not like you’d be taking a rookie either. I’ve worked in space, I know the protocols. I bring a valuable scientific and diplomatic presence to your team.” She remained seated, straight back, legs neatly crossed. She studied the lines on his face and detected a subtle shift. She let a couple moments pass.
“I don’t like it, but I’ll take a few minutes to think it through.”
She lifted herself up to give him privacy, but he flashed up a hand. “Please sit down, I won’t be long.” Then he turned his back on her again and renewed his gaze out the window.
That’s where he reflects.
Esther kept quiet, monitoring her breathing, giving him the time and space he needed to decide. He would appreciate the political benefits of bringing her along even if it meant a change to his initial plan. It was the right decision, the correct one. For all his engineering prowess, his understanding of politics was better than most.
Several minutes elapsed before he slowly turned back to her and said, “You must understand, Esther, space travel is as dangerous today as it ever was. Oh, undoubtedly the safety record shows a vast improvement from those early pioneer days, but the risks are nevertheless there. You can’t simply pull over to the side of the road if you’re sick. I wouldn’t want you to think this is like a routine hypersonic jet flight or something.”
She nodded, but smelled a hint of condescension. She let that slide.
“As well, if the survivors are still alive, we will find them and rescue them, no question. But if an alien encounter presents itself that leads to those two perishing, or any of my crew, I’ll choose the aliens over them.”
“How could—”
“Even you.” He began pacing. “Look, it’s simple. I’m a strong believer that what’s best for the majority should inform all of our decision-making. The discovery of other sentient life-forms and superior technology benefits all humankind. Think of the potential for exploration, and yes, resource extraction too if we can secure FTL capability. In my world, that’s worth the sacrifice of a life or two, and history demands it.”
Esther shuddered and fought the urge to vomit. Choosing anything over a human life was unfathomable.
Clayton grinned and continued. “But, I’m not a monster. If there’s any way to bring them home safely, we will do it. I want you to understand my position before we travel together.”
She stuttered. “You—you mean I can come with you on the mission?”
“Yes. I see how your presence can be helpful and, in fact, I’m surprised I missed it earlier. It’s fortunate that fate would keep you in New York.” He sat down beside her again and took her hand. She didn’t resist. “Besides, as you say, this will prove how well we work together.”
Esther nodded and smiled, realizing that bringing up echoes of last night could wait.
“There’s one more person I should invite,” he said.
“Who’s that? Ed Mitchell? Dr. Patel?”
He chuckled, “No, no. Oh my God, no, not Ed! He’d have a heart attack. Not Patel either.”
“Who then?”
“The girl, Mary Atteberry . . . her father was the man who discovered the signal in ‘85, wasn’t he?”
She nodded. Surely he already knew that.
“Now I’m no parent, but I understand how precious kids are to their folks. And, I can imagine her dad would want to see her first, no matter what.”
Esther couldn’t believe he wanted Jim on the mission. She’d remained mum about his demand and planned to tell him later that she tried, but joining the rescue team was out. “But, he’s on the west coast. There’s no way—”
“Sullivan will contact him, and one of your people can charter a hyper-flight. He could arrive at our launch pad in Nova Scotia in a couple hours. It’s a tight window, but not impossible.”
“Let me call Jim first, Clay. I know he’d do anything to save Mary.”
Well done, Esther, score points with Jim too.
“Very well. You’ll need to get kitted up. Sullivan will take you down to the Prep Station as soon as you’ve spoken with Atteberry. After that, we’ll board the heli-jet to Nova Scotia in thirty minutes.”
They stood up together. Esther’s heart pounded with nervous excitement. The moment was almost upon her: an encounter with new life!
Kate
“There’s got to be another way into the damn galley,” Kate said. “Let’s look at the structure again.”
One step at a time, she thought. The next priority was communications but the only mode they had was their suit-to-suit radios. Her indie-comm was toast and there was nothing in the master control room they could use to contact passing ships. If no one knew they were here and alive, a rescue wouldn’t be forthcoming.
I hope like hell a satellite picked up our trail.
“I’m ready, Kate.”
They exited through the main access hatchway and bounded to their right, past the power cable port they’d installed earlier, and on toward another extended room, the galley. Like the rest of the habitat, this area was 3-D print-built using raw materials from the moon itself, giving the complex a natural, camouflaged effect. However, this extension was shorter and squatter, and no obvious entrance point presented itself.
“Perhaps it’s not a galley at all,” Mary said, gazing around.
“This room contained something the bosses didn’t want to share with the workers. Why else would they keep it secure like this?”
Kate hopped back from the habitat about ten meters for a broader view. With the dust, rocks and other debris, she found it impossible to distinguish anything in the domed structure.
“Start infrared scanning.”
Her suit’s computer chimed and panned through the frequency spectrum in her visor. Ka
te shifted her head back and forth to ensure full coverage. It was during the second pass that something on the building caught her eye.
“I found a reading a couple meters to your left, ground level. Can you check it out?”
Mary took two long strides and knelt down in front of the outer wall. She brushed away the dust that had accumulated like tufts of snow where the habitat met the surface, then worked her way up, her palm outstretched.
“See anything?”
“Hang on a sec.”
At a point about a meter off the ground, Mary brushed furiously then stood back, frozen.
“There’s a handle here, embedded in the concrete.”
Kate bounded over and joined her. Mary had pulled a screwdriver from her belt and started prying the tab away from its recessed pocket. It finally yielded, and the pull-ring popped up.
“Things are getting curiouser and curiouser,” Kate muttered. “Shall we see what this opens?”
The hole in the ring only accommodated one thick-gloved finger’s width, and despite several attempts, neither Kate nor Mary could generate sufficient force to yank it open.
Frustration blanketed Kate’s mind. “Screw this,” she muttered, and jumped away.
“Where are you going? Kate?”
“Stay there and keep trying to open it. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She pulled up to the scooters, still paired, a few meters from the main access hatchway. Kate released the holds on the second scooter—the one Mary usually rode—and fired it up, raising it off the surface, and flew to where Mary knelt wrestling with the latch.
“There’s a cable and winch at the front . . . you see it?”
Mary leapt over to the hovering machine and poked around its nose. “Got it.”
“Attach the hook to that pull-ring. I’ll pull on it like a Christmas cracker, even if it brings down the entire wall.”
Adrenaline poured through Kate’s veins as the stew of fear and frustration bubbled up inside her, causing a sense of déjà vu.
This is no different than an old Spacer assignment when I was Mary’s age.
“It’s all hooked up.”
Echoes In The Grey Page 16
