If that had happened on a mission, it would have meant someone had been abandoned on the surface of the Moon. Cheery thought and a little too close to home.
When I finagled the compartment open, the high-gain antenna was still nestled inside with the IAC seals in place. “It’s here.” I bent down to begin deploying it, so it was in a position for our engineers to decouple it from the lander. “BusyBee, EV2.”
Mavis’s voice joined me on the surface of the Moon. “Go ahead, EV2.”
“The antenna is here. I’ll be ready for your team to uninstall it in about forty-five minutes.”
“Copy, EV2. We’ll complete suit-up and head out to you.”
Of the two problems we were working, this was the more straightforward. We’d haul all of the S-Band antennae back to the main colony and let the engineers work their magic.
For the second problem, all we knew was that Curt hadn’t been to this particular lander. One cleared, five to go.
* * *
After the third landing site, we tramped back through the BusyBee hatch and let the airlock cycle up to partial pressure. Fans turned on and sucked the air and moon dust out to vacuum. Then it cycled up for real. My feet were throbbing and my left hand ached from fighting the suit for hours.
Myrtle looked at me. “Stop for a meal break after this?”
It wasn’t on the schedule until after the fourth lander. “Sure. That sounds great.”
She toggled off her microphone and leaned over to me, pressing her helmet against mine. I sighed and turned my mic off too.
Myrtle’s face was lit along one side by the reflection of the sun off the lunar surface. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” I smiled at her with exhausted good humor. “Tired of this shit, though.”
“I’m serious.”
I let my expression go flat and dead, because I figured she would believe that. “There’s a piece of paper that says ‘Government Head Backing Earth First.’ I keep thinking about it. So, for our purposes here, I’m fine. I have reasons to stay focused and a problem to work.” I brought back enough of the smile to soften my face. “And I will not balk at an early meal break. Because I really am tired of this shit.”
* * *
The fifth site had a rover. It had a high-gain antenna deployed on a pole like an inverted gold parasol that they’d used to beam pictures of the worksite back to Earth, so we had two to check. The rover’s and the one in the descent stage. This hadn’t been one of my missions, but it was easy to see that the rover hadn’t been moved, because the bags of poo had been stacked next to one of the wheels.
We’d worked our way far enough east that the land we were walking over had been in sunlight for a couple of days. I could feel the heat radiating from the surface when I knelt. “At least we won’t have to wait for the bags to thaw.”
“I try to thank God for small blessings, but this one just doesn’t quite … I’m not even sure how to form that prayer.”
I handed her a couple of bags, which drooped over her hand. “Holy Father, thank You for this sh—”
“Don’t you dare.”
“You’re the one who started talking about praying and poo.” I gathered my bags of excrement and stood, overbalancing slightly. I did the lunar jog, to get my feet back under me. It’s fun. You fall slowly enough that if you start running, you can usually get your feet under you again. Usually.
Momentum carried me up against the rover and I dropped a bag onto the driver’s seat.
“You all right?”
“Yep.” I picked up the bag and paused. On the seat under the bag, there was a small piece of paper with Stetson Parker’s distinctive handwriting on it. It wasn’t anything significant, just a checklist which he’d left behind when they’d finished at this site. “You know … if I were Curt, I would have used the rover’s antenna.”
Myrtle nodded. “Sure. Safer to get to.”
I held up the paper. “I don’t think he was here.”
If he had been, the paper wouldn’t have still been in the driver’s seat. This was not surprising. With each stop, we were venturing farther from the colony or any of the outposts. Halim was working the ones close to The Garden and Marius Hills because they were all still in the dark. Doing a night moonwalk was riskier, and I’d known better than to fight Eugene.
Chances were that Halim had already found the lander that Curt had visited. Without the communications satellites, we wouldn’t hear anything from the colony until we were back in line of sight.
I really wanted to rub the ache between my eyes but a helmet stood between me and that goal.
Myrtle said, “So tempting to skip checking the lander and go to the next site. But…”
“Yeah.” We would check anyway because skipping steps was how people died in space.
Myrtle frowned and rotated one of the bags. “Why is Parker’s excrement blue?”
“Too much disinfectant.” I shifted the bags, still looking at the note on the seat. I turned to look up at where the Earth spun slowly above us. It was in the last quarter, so just a slice of brilliant blue and white floated in the heavens. I talk about the colors that you can see on the surface of the Moon, but it fades to monochrome when you face the Earth. Stretches of white clouds masked most landmasses, so I wasn’t sure who was facing us right now.
I looked down at my watch. It was nearly 7 p.m. Central Time, so Kansas would just be slipping into that curved shadow of night. “I’m going to—I’d like to try the radio.”
Myrtle looked at me and at the rover. Her mouth pursed and I waited it out. The deal I had made with her and Eugene was that I would follow instructions and wouldn’t push. I wanted to, but if I misjudged something, I wasn’t the one who would have to deal with the consequences.
“Tell me why?”
I gestured to the solar array and the sun. “It’s probably got a full charge. Right now, Brazil and Kansas are both facing the Moon. While it is unlikely that I’ll get through, the possibility exists that someone got an old tracking station up and running. The worst that can happen is I’ll get an earful of static.”
Technically, the worst that could happen was that a micrometeorite had hit something vital at exactly the wrong angle and the vehicle shorted. But my mom survived three lightning strikes and my suit was insulated.
“How long will it take?”
I couldn’t shrug in the suit, so I waggled my right hand. “Five minutes to power it up. Give me ten to check a couple of bands?”
“All right.” Myrtle raised her wrist mirror to check the gauges on the chest of her suit. “All right, we’ve got six hours of consumables and that’s more than enough to finish here. We can refresh them from stores in the BusyBee for the next site and still stay within our walkback limits. Let’s do it.”
I grinned and climbed into the rover. “You just want to avoid handling more feces.”
“That was true when I told Eugene we were done having children.” She rested a hand on the rover. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
I shook my head, before realizing that my suit was at the wrong angle for her to see. “No. But maybe don’t touch the vehicle in case I’m wrong and it shorts.” I waited for her to remove her hand and flipped the power toggle.
The instrument panel lit up as if it had been turned off yesterday. It was still tuned to suit broadcast settings and we got an earful of hum over our comms as the tubes warmed up.
Myrtle whistled. “The IAC really knows how to build—”
“… Brazil. Over. Arte.” Static buzzed but the human voice was still there “… ase, Brazil. Over.”
I choked. Days of fear and grief clogged my throat. I swallowed, eyes stinging. “Brazil, Artemis Base. We read you. Broken but loud. Over.”
“Thank … od. This is Cristian…” In the static, I could barely recognize Cristiano Zambrano’s voice at the CAPCOM desk. “… re’s room full of enginee … all just fainted behind me. Boy ar … glad to hear from you.�
��
“This is Nicole Wargin. I have Myrtle Lindholm with me.” I held out my hand and she grabbed it. I could feel her prayers radiating out of her suit. “We’re out at the rover from Artemis 14. Repeat. The Artemis 14 rover. Over.”
“Copy … rtemis 14 rover. What is the … of the colony? Over.”
“Good. We’re all fine up here. All systems working well.” That wasn’t completely accurate. Prioritizing information given the spottiness of the connection was hard. “Tell Clemons we caught the saboteur and are cleaning up the last of his messes. What’s the situation down there? Over.”
The static was bad enough that I was afraid we’d lost them. “… fires. Director Clemons … relocated operations to Brazil while … ppens. The UN has sent in additional tr … offer aid. We lost many good peo … Over.”
I wanted more details. I wanted a list of who had been lost. Lost. That’s the wrong word. I wanted to know who had been taken from us.
But that was a question for later. For now, we had contact with home and a problem to work. We were the IAC and that was what we did.
FIFTY-TWO
LUNAR COLONY SAFE
CHICAGO, Ill. June 2, 1963—The world thrilled today to receive word from Artemis Base on the Moon that all is well in that far outpost of humanity. An earlier use of Morse code had been spotted from telescopes in Hawaii, but the International Aerospace Coalition lacked the means to respond following terrorist acts by Earth First two weeks ago. Contact was restored by Mrs. Kenneth T. Wargin, widow of the late governor, who managed to revive an ancient radio system left from the first days that mankind walked on the Moon. Mrs. Wargin reports that the citizens of the Moon “are all safe up here and will keep working until the IAC is ready for us to come home.”
Myrtle set a trajectory that was high and fast to get us above the curve of the horizon and into radio contact with Artemis Base as soon as possible. It was hell on fuel consumption, but that was low priority. We’d been out hours past our scheduled return time. Sending a report back with Yung-Chiu via the BusyBee would have left us without a life raft if anything went wrong, so it never even came up. We just flew, fast and high.
“Artemis Base, BusyBee Two. Over.” I held the microphone in my right hand. My left was so fatigued from the gloves that I couldn’t close it. “Artemis Base, BusyBee Two. Over.”
I stared out the windows of the BusyBee as the lunar landscape rolled below us. Crisp shadows and undulating craters. Almost, even with my left hand in this state, I almost asked if I could fly while the ship only needed the right-hand controller, because I could not see a future in which I got to return to the Moon as a pilot. I didn’t ask.
“Artemis Base, BusyBee Two. Over.”
“BusyBee Two, Artemis Base. We read you loud and clear.” Helen answered from the CAPCOM chair for our flight. “Permit me to say that you have had us a little worried.”
“Sorry about that. The sites were all clear of signs of Frye’s presence.” I imagined Eugene had been standing right by her desk as our scheduled return time ticked past. “Please let the acting administrator know that we are all well.”
She cleared her throat. “The acting administrator would like you to know that Halim found a bomb, defused it, and still beat you back by four hours. Although the administrator used different words.”
Myrtle glanced at me. Eugene might be staying off the comm, but he was hearing every word we said. She had the helm, so I continued to talk to CAPCOM. “We stayed out to our walkback limit because we got one of the rovers powered up. We made contact with Earth.”
“That is … that is good news.” A roaring static backed her words and it took me a moment to realize it was the sound of all the people in Lunar Ground Control. Helen’s voice returned, level and calm. “We look forward to hearing the details when you’re back in. Dock at berth one.”
“Roger, wilco.” Just another day at the office.
* * *
When we opened the hatch at Artemis Base, Eugene gave Myrtle time to step out of the airlock. He took the helmet and gloves out of her hands and passed them off to a suit tech. He looked at me. “Wargin. Good work. Get some food and then report to the conference room at twenty-hundred hours for a full debrief.”
“Yes, si—”
As far as Eugene was concerned, the rest of the lunar colony had ceased to exist. He pulled Myrtle to the side and dipped her into a deep kiss, spacesuit and all. You had to admire the man’s strength, even at 1/6 g.
I gave them as much privacy as I could by looking away as I stepped out of the BusyBee. As Mavis and the other engineers clambered out, I turned to them to draw their attention away from Myrtle and Eugene. “Good work out there.”
Mavis shrugged. “All we did was uncouple a few connections.” She glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “Is there … Do they need help with gear?”
Eugene and Myrtle were stepping back into the BusyBee. He had his hand on the hatch and was pulling it shut.
I caught Mavis’s arm and steered her toward the donning room. “No.” Smiling around a jealous ache, I walked away from them. “They need to do a private debrief.”
A moment of confusion crossed her face, then a grin appeared like the sun popping over the horizon of the Moon. Mavis winked. “Got it.”
The BusyBees had many wonderful qualities. One of which was that they were soundproof.
I spotted Helen waiting by the door to the donning room. The cuticles on her thumbs were picked raw. I abandoned Mavis and went straight to Helen.
She gestured to the donning room. “Forgive me for this, but when you’re done, I’m supposed to go to the cafeteria with you.”
“Copy.” I was sweaty and ached and wanted a shower more than I wanted food, but none of that was important right now. I held my helmet and gloves in my right hand and rested my left hand on Helen’s shoulder. “Reynard is in Brazil. He’s fine.”
At the sound of her husband’s name, Helen’s face crumpled. Her hands came up to cover her mouth. I pulled her into a one-armed embrace with care so that I didn’t bruise her with the controls and couplers of my suit.
She sniffled and shook her head, stepping back. “Later, please?”
I understood all too well. Besides which, we didn’t know the status of everyone at the IAC in Kansas City. Mavis and her crew had managed to boost the signal through some electrical magic, but getting a full list of those hurt or killed had not been the top priority.
But some I did know about.
I walked into the donning room and went to Florina. She turned as I came across the floor and she knew. There is a face that we wear when someone dies.
She knew her husband was dead.
* * *
Helen walked me to the cafeteria and on the way there, I started pulling on the armor of my public face. Word had spread that we’d reestablished contact with Earth and people were moving with an extra lunar bound in their step. They kept veering out of their way to thank me and I developed a set of rote responses that rolled easily out of my mouth.
“It was a group effort.”
“Yes, it’s such a relief.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know. How are you holding up?”
Not knowing was the worst. Helen tried to keep me moving through the groups of our colleagues but didn’t have the practice at extricating me that my husband’s handlers did. Besides. I knew my job here.
I listened to every inquiry. I patted shoulders or shared a laugh or fears.
I was genuinely not going to have time to eat, and I’d have Helen to back me that I really had tried to go to the cafeteria. But Eugene had given me instructions. I had promised him I would not balk at any of them. Beneath my armor of public hopeful concern, I seethed with resentment because this was work that needed doing.
The Moon was full of people with ties to Kansas City. I’d simultaneously given them hope and confirmed their fears. They were smart. The ones with families who worked at the IAC needed … not reassurance, b
ut the strength to wait.
So I worked the problem. Between one cluster of people and the next, I turned to Helen. “I’m sorry—can you get a tray for me? I’ll eat in the conference room.”
A champion chess player on two worlds, Helen assessed the situation and was nodding before I had finished speaking. “Cottage cheese, peaches, and toast?”
“They’re out of cottage cheese and the cheddar is appalling. So … something? And coffee.” I could feel another group approaching on my right. “All the coffee.”
* * *
The conference room was crowded with department heads when I arrived. I had not anticipated that when I’d suggested to Helen that I eat during the debrief. I’d assumed it would only be our little group, but in hindsight, Eugene had said “full debrief.” We’d just reestablished contact with the IAC. Of course, Eugene would want all hands on deck.
Helen looked up from the near end of the conference table and waved me over to the empty seat next to her. It had a tray in front of it. Joy.
But if I could eat at a table with the Honorable Ambassador from France sans difficultés, then I wasn’t going to let a little thing like a roomful of engineers stop me.
“Mrs. Wargin—” The Hysterical Godfrey appeared in front of me. “I want to apologize. It’s been weighing on me that I was dismissive of your concerns. I was very wrong. Thank you for your work today.”
“It was a group effort.” I wanted to gawk at him for actually apologizing, but instead smiled, because that was what was required.
“Miss Davis and her team are definitely getting commendations in their personnel files.” He grinned. “I’m just glad the old hardware powered up.”
The Relentless Moon Page 49
