Electrical power system. There was really only one reason to wire a radio into an electrical system you already had control of. I let my breath out very slowly. “All right … Do we have anyone who has defused a bomb before?”
The guy with the schematics on the floor looked up at the RPCM so fast he overbalanced and fell.
Mavis bent to help him up, shaking her head. “The explosives aren’t here, dummy.” She glanced at me. “Do I have that right? Y’all think this is a remote-control booby trap? We pull it out and someplace else something goes boom?”
I nodded, while beside me, Eugene turned in a circle, looking at all the people who were going about their business in Midtown. He took in a breath and settled his shoulders, getting ready to work.
“Give me a minute to talk to the fellows.” She turned back to her team as calmly as if this were a sim, and I could guarantee that “active saboteur” was not a situation she would have hit in training.
Eugene watched them and leaned down to murmur, “Thank God for competent people.” He raised his head and looked around again. “You think it’s tied to the BusyBee?”
“That is my fear, yes.”
He tightened his fists. “I want to evacuate people, but I don’t know where to send them because we don’t know where that damn thing is.”
“Birgit.” I pressed my fingernails into the side of my right thumb. “She worked in munitions and has mobility.”
“And was nowhere near the cockpit before or during the flight.” Eugene rubbed his forehead, grimacing. “But we keep talking about Curt or Birgit when it could be Curt and Birgit.”
“Talk to her and—”
“Okay!” Mavis turned back to us, blue eyes alight with what looked like a plan. Two of the electricians had turned to their large tool chest, while the third crouched on the schematic making notes on the large sheet of paper. “We can put in a dummy load that will mock the radio. The point being, we can pull it out, but doing it during the blackout is best. It’s got to have a mechanism to tell that power has been interrupted in such a way that it doesn’t go off. If we pull it then and put a line in to span the gap, making allowances for change in resistance, et cetera, and so forth, then it should believe that the radio is still there.”
Eugene pursed his lips and you could almost see the silent scales he was weighing his options on. “Sixteen minutes. You sure you can do that?”
Honestly, Mavis looked offended. “Yes. I’m sure as the day is long and the lunar day is two weeks.” She jerked her finger over her shoulder. “I have the guys setting up, but we won’t go ahead until you give the say-so.”
Eugene’s jaw worked for a moment and then he nodded. “Do it.”
We watched Mavis and her crew work, and my entire body was tight with the urge to do something. The most useful thing I could do was to be on call in case there was something else oddball deep in the belly of the RPCM, so I dropped into the “attentive wife” posture I used so often with … I tilted my head back and stared at the dome, hoping that most of the tears would roll back down my sinuses.
The translucent dome was dark with just a glowing orb in the lower quadrant. Earth. With the protective filtering of the dome, it was like seeing the Moon through clouds.
“You okay?” Eugene’s voice was low.
I nodded and swiped under my eyes. “You should go.” Fishing a handkerchief out of my pocket, I wiped my nose. “In case this doesn’t work, we shouldn’t both be in the same module.”
I could see him want to argue and be too smart to follow through on that. “Agreed. I do not like this, though.” Eugene set his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “I’m going to do a preliminary evacuation for nonessential personnel. Get them into the BusyBees, so if something does go wrong, they are prepped to move to safety.”
Neither of us talked about the scenario in which there was no safe haven. Where Icarus hadn’t left bombs in just one location, but in all of the outposts. There are contingencies you can plan for and then there are ones where the people you love have to make plans.
* * *
Mavis’s team had used the two hours to come up with a definitive plan and practice it as much as they could without actually touching the radio wired into the RPCM. Midtown was deserted. Downstairs, Lunar Ground Control had closed their airlock and everyone was working in IVP suits, ready to go visors-down as soon as the blackout hit.
The engineering team couldn’t. The RPCM had not been built to accommodate a spacesuit. My cast meant I was sitting in my astronaut onesie, with an emergency oxygen mask propped on my head. All I had for tools were a watch and a walkie-talkie. Halim also had a walkie-talkie and was waiting downstairs for us, ready to help with evac if things went meteoric. Eugene had another walkie-talkie in the AdminMod. He’d sent Myrtle and Helen off to pilot BusyBees, which also had the side effect of making sure his wife was in the safest possible spot.
Right decision. And if I were her, I would have murdered him when I got back.
I held the talk button down so Eugene and Halim could hear me, but this was for the engineers. “We’re at T-minus thirty seconds on my mark.”
“Copy, T-minus thirty.” Mavis’s voice came from deep in the machine. She and one of her engineers were poised to work the moment the lights went out. One of the other fellows stood ready to hand supplies in, and the third was functioning as an electrician’s CAPCOM, reading the procedure they’d written up so that when time was critical, they did not have to stop and think.
The second hand swept around the watch. “Mark.”
Every breath was tight. “Twenty.”
The lights ringing Midtown buzzed with the fans. “Ten.”
They would know when the lights went out. “Nine, eight, seven.” But this gave them time to set. “Six, five, four.”
Inside, Mavis rose to her knees, hands extended.
“Three, two, one—”
The lights went out.
Around us, the electromagnetic catches on the airlocks released and the doors swung shut. The ripple-bang of the hatches locking echoed in the dark. Inside the RPCM, the battery-powered work lamps they’d positioned seemed to blaze even brighter in the sudden darkness. Giant shadows cut across the walls as Mavis and her team moved.
A moment later, the emergency lights came on. A part of me had honestly expected that we would either not lose power this time or that the emergency lights would fail.
“The settings are eleven papa papa juliet three.” In the dim light, it almost sounded like a sim. Everyone was calm and efficient.
“Confirmed. Eleven papa papa juliet three.”
I kept my eye on the watch, which was my one actual job here. The second hand seemed to race forward in time with my heart, but if you’d seen me, I was just a woman sitting casually on a plastic chair.
I chewed the inside of my lip, waiting. Across my back, all the muscles were so tight they almost creaked with my breath. The minute hand advanced. “Five minutes elapsed time.”
“Copy, five minutes.”
Inside they worked in near silence, only responding when they needed something specific.
“You can demate papa fourteen from juliet fourteen.”
“Roger, wilco. Demating now.”
The engineer at the door took a tangle of cables and set it on the table to the right of the open door. In a smooth motion, she reached to her left and picked up a part, passing it into the compartment. It was like watching a set of wizards dance. Understand that I can do aircraft maintenance. I’m trained in electrical systems on every spacecraft I fly. I had helped install the original unit. My knowledge of electronics compares to theirs like a kite to a T-38 jet.
“Ten minutes, elapsed time.”
“Copy, ten minutes.”
I was sweating and all I was doing was sitting there, watching a minute hand on a watch.
“J106 alpha in place.”
“With that config, you have a Go to decouple the VRCS.”
Inside my shoes, my
toes curled as if I were going to go on pointe. The VRCS was our mystery radio. It bothered the hell out of me that I didn’t know what the letters stood for. Although, for all I knew, it was a random set designed to make anyone who saw it back off because they didn’t know what it was.
“Done.” Mavis’s voice was strong and directed out to me. “We’re clear.”
I wanted to give her a standing ovation. “Copy. Elapsed time, fourteen minutes.” I depressed the walkie-talkie button. “They’re clear. We’re moving away from the RPCM now.”
Eugene’s voice crackled in the space. “Good work.”
Mavis and the other engineer stepped out of the RPCM. It rankled them to leave their supplies lying around, but they had not argued about the order of operations. I handed them emergency oxygen masks, and we put the EOMs on as we jogged to the stairs. The plan was to get downstairs to the LGC and into their airlock, in case the main dome was breached.
As we came down the stairs, Halim was waiting in his IVP suit, opening the hatch for us. As a group, we crowded into the airlock, which was not designed to have five bodies in it. Halim saluted as he closed the door on us. I wanted him inside. I did not like the plan that left him on the other side of this giant slab of aluminum, even in a suit.
In the tiny space, the luminescent dial on my watch seemed unnaturally bright. We were all silent, except for our breath. I held my watch out where we could all see it, even though we’d know when the lights came on. We’d made it into the airlock with a full minute to spare and it was plenty of time to tense and brace. One of the engineers kept cracking his knuckles. Mavis plucked at the strap of her EOM.
The minute hand hit the sixteen-minute mark.
The lights did not come back on.
FORTY-ONE
EARTH FIRST ISSUES MANIFESTO
Claims Credit for Death of Governor
KANSAS CITY, May 27, 1963—The group Earth First has taken credit for the assassination of Governor Kenneth T. Wargin of Kansas earlier this month. In a manifesto sent to multiple newspapers throughout the country, they claim they had tried a method of diplomacy to try to shift the United States involvement in the space program and have changed tactics because that failed. What follows is their manifesto, printed in full.
“Exodus 32:27—And he said to them: Thus saith the Lord God of Israel: Put every man his sword upon his thigh: go, and return from gate to gate through the midst of the camp, and let every man kill his brother, and friend, and neighbour.
“As the planet Earth recovers from the Meteor strike, the United States atrophies. The needs of our fellow Americans have been ignored in favor of the false idol of the Moon by an elite who strive to enrich themselves at the expense of the poor and forgotten…”
Forty-five minutes later, and we were still without power. Mavis had asked Eugene to bring the Hysterical Godfrey back in, because he knew the systems and they had half an hour to solve it before the emergency batteries started dying. The fussy little man strode across Midtown with his chin held high.
He shot a glance at me, and his lip curled a little, but when he got to the engineers, his chin came down. “Mavis. How can I help?”
She looked up from the schematic she and the other electricians were bent over. “Christian, thanks.” She stepped over to the table with the parts they’d pulled out of the RPCM. “This is what we swapped out with a VandenHeuvel patch. Figured the blackout would be a time it wasn’t going to send a signal and—”
“Good God.” His face had completely changed, the color draining out of it as he handled the box. “This is a remote fuse.”
She just nodded and none of us said, “I told you so.”
He set it down on the table. “Show me.”
I am not someone who usually paces, but I found myself wanting to do so as Mavis and her team worked the problem. Eugene did pace. Not a lot, just around in a small circle, with one arm crossed over his body, holding the elbow of the other. His fist clenched and unclenched.
Godfrey backed out of the RPCM, shaking his head. “That’s good work in there. Nothing you did should have caused this.”
A little tension went out of Mavis’s shoulders. “All right.” She grimaced. “Although that would have been the simplest solution. Moving on to the mains?”
“Concur.”
Eugene stepped out of his pacing. “Status?”
Godfrey opened his mouth and then, in a minor miracle, gestured to Mavis. “I only just arrived. Miss Davis has more current information.”
Her brows twitched upward a little, which was understandable since he was still technically her boss. “We don’t know what’s causing the outage. So we’re starting with the simplest solutions and then working out from there.” She hesitated and looked at the RPCM. “The thing is … we actually have two problems. Because we prioritized pulling the radio out, the existing remote controls are still in place. When we get power back, those will be accessible remotely.”
Which meant that Earth First could still control the entire colony. Grimacing, Eugene drummed his fingers on his thigh. “What do you need to field two teams?”
“Some of the folks we sent off in a BusyBee. If I give you a list?”
Eugene shook his head. “The BusyBees are out for another…” He checked his watch. “Four hours before they’ll send in a team to check on us.”
Well, shit. Now I understood why he was pacing and tense. The same shielding that protected the colony from radiation also stopped radio signals. Without power, we didn’t have outside comms. Myrtle was in a BusyBee and all she would know was that they couldn’t raise anyone in the main lunar colony. The BusyBees would still be able to talk to each other and the outposts, but couldn’t reach us. For that matter, we had no idea if anything had happened elsewhere in the colony.
Mavis chewed her lower lip and looked at the people backing her up. “Split into a three-team and a two-team?” She turned back to Eugene. “Can I keep Nicole?”
I answered for him. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“No. I need her.” Eugene was looking toward the SciMod. “If it can be done seated, you can have Ruben. If not, we can pull someone from LGC until power is restored.”
I took a step toward him, not sure how clearly I could express my discomfort about using Ruben without outright saying he might be involved. Yes, we’d told the department heads that sabotage had happened, but we’d managed to avoid pointing to any particular person. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah.” Just his head turned as he looked back at Mavis. “That work?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’ll send him to you. Split your teams. Draft Halim for anything else you need.” He started walking toward the SciMod. “Wargin, with me.”
I waited until we were out of earshot, which took a tremendous act of will. “What are we doing?”
“Not being subtle.” He jerked a thumb toward the emergency lights. “We need answers, and Curt, Birgit, or Frisch has them.”
“And you’re sure it’s not Ruben?”
“Yes. Wrong kind of dumbass.” He stopped at the airlock and shone a flashlight on the pressure gauge, then through the window for a visual check. “But I read up on him along with the other South Africans, and he’s apparently a damn good electrician.”
If Eugene was certain, I was not going to second-guess him. I mean, any more than I already had. At least not out loud. “What do you want me for?”
“You’re the spy.” He pumped the ratchet handle to release each of the fifteen latches holding the door sealed. “How would you approach questioning them?”
I stopped him with my hand on his arm before he pulled the hatch open. “Question. How much of your urgency is Myrtle?”
His hand tensed on the ratchet handle. “I would be lying if I said she wasn’t in my mind.”
“She’s okay.”
His lips compressed for a moment and he broke eye contact. “But she doesn’t know that I am.”
“All right�
�” I grabbed the hatch. “When the lights come back on, Icarus is going to know we’ve solved that problem. So that gives a narrow window in which to see if someone will trip up while feeling triumphant.”
Eugene could not let me open the airlock by myself and took the handle. “Who are you starting with?”
I’d been thinking about unanswered questions and the handwriting in the RPCM. But I wanted to know how the Lunar Colony Administrator got the book before I talked to either of the other two. “Frisch.”
“Not Curt?” He hauled the outer door open and the porthole reflected light from an emergency lamp.
“Eugene … Are the BusyBees still in line of sight of the main colony?”
“Yeah. So at least she’ll know we aren’t venting anything.” He shook his head. “I’m okay, really. It’s not like…”
Not like Kenneth. I shoved that to the side. “The lounge here has 360 degrees of windows. You have a flashlight. Get a mirror from sickbay to use as a reflector to make the light bigger—”
“Morse.” He grabbed my forehead and kissed it. Then I’ve never seen a man finish cycling an airlock so quickly while still following procedure to the letter.
* * *
Upstairs, in the lounge, Eugene was signaling APAF to the BusyBees. All Present and Accounted For. I could imagine the sighs of relief going through the tiny flotilla of space buses.
Ana Teresa had taken Ruben off to Midtown, and I had to hope that Eugene was right and we hadn’t just delivered Icarus to the equipment he needed.
I helped Frisch walk to my makeshift interrogation room in the geology lab. I would have preferred the biology lab, because it was closer, but a pen full of bunnies did not project the feel I was going for. The geology lab, on the other hand, had tools.
Would I be able to use those on Icarus? Yes. My husband was dead and I am not a kind woman under the best of circumstances. I mask it well, but I am vindictive and selfish. Would I be able to use them to figure out who Icarus was?
No.
“How are you doing?” I guided Frisch to a chair in the middle of the floor and sat down across from him. By my side was a table with hacksaws and hammers.
The Relentless Moon Page 38
