by Issui Ogawa
“Is that enough? What about heat and cold?”
“Of course, the environment gets very hot,” replied Cui. “The sun is up for fourteen days. It’s dark for the same amount of time. During that cycle the outside temperature ranges from 160 degrees Celsius to minus 120 degrees. The outer skin is covered with a heat shield, but that alone isn’t enough to keep the inside temperature constant, so we circulate coolant to the hull during the day to maintain constant temperature.”
Sohya remembered the network of pipes next to the outer skin that he’d seen in the air lock.
“You don’t have to worry about structural strength either,” Cui continued. “Material strength is proportional to the cross section, but with one-sixth gravity we make do with one-sixth thickness. And there are no moonquakes to worry about.”
“What about the foundation? Where the module contacts the surface.”
“Each module is wedged with rock to prevent rotation, but that’s just in case.”
In other words, the modules were just sitting on the regolith. Maybe the rock wedges could be considered a type of mat foundation, but without measures to prevent the modules from settling unequally. Gradually, Sohya realized what sort of structure the base represented. It was nothing more than a temporary installation. He was amazed it had lasted even a year.
“This is a permanent facility. Shouldn’t it be built to higher specs?”
“Not practical.” Cui shook his head. “Mass limits apply to everything brought to the lunar surface, you know. Oxygen, water, food, solar panels, and other life-support supplies get first priority. Next are supplies required to carry out our research mission. As far as structural aspects of the base go, the minimum is enough.”
“Of course, when you improve the quality of a building it usually adds more and more weight,” said Sohya.
“Mr. Aomine? Is there something about this base that concerns you?” Cui’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Sohya, who was deep in thought.
“Oh, nothing,” Sohya said casually. There was something about Cui—he was the tallest and brawniest of the base crew—that made him difficult to approach. Sohya was beginning to feel uncomfortable around him. It would probably pay to avoid sounding critical.
“If you’re satisfied with this orientation to the habitation module, shall we move on?” said Cui, glancing again at his wearcom. He stared at Sohya and Tae. Sohya suddenly realized that Tae, usually so full of curiosity and questions, hadn’t said a word during Cui’s explanation. She stood with her hands clasped in front, looking down uncomfortably.
“Tae, is there something wrong?” asked Sohya.
“I-I haven’t been to the toilet since we got here.”
This was thoughtless of Sohya. The previous night before going to sleep, he’d gone to get an explanation of the toilet’s location and how to use it, but Tae had been too shy to bring it up.
“Mr. Cui, is there a toilet?”
“Of course. It’s on the other side of that clothes rack.” Tae nearly jumped in the direction Cui pointed. She peeked into the toilet, which was about the size of a tiny closet, and wailed. “The walls are so thin!”
“Don’t worry about smells, it’s ventilated,” Cui reassured her.
“It’s not just smells. I mean, the sound…” she murmured feebly. Cui and Sohya had nothing to say. “We’ll wait for you in the node,” said Cui. “Call if you need help.”
“Okay.”
The two men passed through the command center on the south side of the module, which was crammed with monitors and control equipment, and entered the Topaz node, the intersection of the four base sections. There they waited. After a few minutes, Tae appeared, her cheeks slightly red. Sohya recalled her expression from the night before, when she was about to remove her space suit. “Did everything go well?”
“Of course! I studied the manual before we got here!” she said heatedly, touching something at her throat. Sohya realized it was a wearcom suspended on a chain. She was absently fingering the tiny keyboard.
Suddenly the node was plunged into darkness. Tae yelped with fear. Sohya reflexively embraced her from behind to shield her. He had had a number of close calls on construction sites, but as his mind raced and he tried to remember the escape route, he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
Having put himself and Tae in the hands of the base members, he had forgotten that death was only inches away in this place. There was no escape route. The only way to escape was via the Chang’e spacecraft, and Sohya had no idea how to operate it. Iwaki never tired of saying it: keep the worst case in mind at all times. Sohya bit his lip as those words came back to him. He had been careless.
“Cui, where are you? Should we head for the backup vehicle?” Cui should have been right next to him, but when Sohya put out his hand, there was only empty space. Sohya exhaled sharply with frustration and started to go back into the habitation module.
There was a click, and light returned. Cui was leaning into the node from the west module, joining two cables.
“Sorry. One of the power connections came loose.”
“Really? Is that all it was?” asked Sohya.
“Yes. The cables have to be easy to disconnect, in case we need to seal off one of the modules.”
“Sohya?” Tae was trembling against his chest. “Is—is everything all right?”
“It looks that way. A cable just got loose.” He stroked her hair. Cui came back through the hatch.
“We were scared. You could have said something,” said Sohya. Cui looked away. “Really? It was just a minor problem.”
“Does it happen often?”
“Not often, no. Come with me.” Cui checked the time on his wearcom again and turned his back. They followed him uneasily into the next module.
WHITE TIGER, THE life sciences research module, was comprised of two banks of multilevel racks lined with plastic cases in a variety of shapes and sizes. Some of the cases were brightly illuminated with air lines leading into them. Others were opaque and sealed against the light. Countless tubes and cables snaked among the cases. The room was filled with the hum of an air compressor. It looked just like a familiar business back on Earth. Sohya realized what it reminded him of: a pet shop.
Cui pulled a case down from one of the racks and showed it to them. “A New Zealand rabbit.” Inside the case, a plump rabbit lay curled in a ball.
“Oh, it’s cute!” Tae reached for the lid, but Cui stopped her.
“We’re keeping it in a germ-free environment.”
“You brought this all the way from Earth?” asked Sohya.
“No, we brought this specimen’s grandparents up in the form of fertilized eggs. This is the fourth generation. We want to see how they breed and develop in low-G conditions.”
“It’s the real rabbit in the moon,” said Sohya. “Where are her parents?”
“Once they breed, they’re no longer needed, so we eat them.”
“Oh no…so that’s going to happen to this little one too?” Tae’s eyes opened wide. She put her hands together in an attitude of prayer and bowed toward the rabbit. Cui replaced the case and went to another rack.
“These are plants. We cultivate sixteen kinds of edible plants, mainly grains and legumes. We’re already harvesting barley as a staple year-round. The aquariums over there contain black tiger shrimp, tilapia, and other aquatic life.”
“You’re prioritizing food sources?” asked Sohya casually. Cui frowned slightly.
“Yes, there is that tendency. But of course, we’re doing pure science too. Some people have criticized Chinese space exploration as too practical, but that’s not at all—”
Cui was cut off by an electronic beeping from the far side of the module, like an alarm clock. Peng called out, “Damn it, I’m out of time. Qian shao xia ren is off the menu for tonight.” “Qian shao—you can make Szechuan shrimp?” Tae called back. After a few moments, Base Commander Peng emerged from behind a worktable half-hidden by one of the
racks, scratching his head. “Well, yes…after I dissect the specimens we’ve raised.”
“I love Szechuan shrimp.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to move on to my next task, so I won’t be able to harvest shrimp today. Cui, can I ask you to look after our guests? I didn’t finish the quail and the rhizopus fungi. The seaweed’s gone bad—you can discard it.”
“Yes, Commander,” said Cui.
“Carry on then.” Peng spoke into his wearcom. “Beijing Control, Peng is moving to Black Tortoise CO2 scrubber maintenance.” He strode away. Cui asked Sohya and Tae to wait as he attended to Peng’s remaining experiments. Sohya realized why he had not seen Peng since early morning.
“It must be a lot of work to keep all these life science experiments running.”
“It takes up a third of our time. Excuse me,” Cui said as he moved quickly past with a container of seaweed. Sohya and Tae flattened against the wall to let him go by. In a few seconds he was back. He took a bag of something that looked like animal feed from beneath one of the floor panels and began scattering it inside several cases containing quail.
“What a job,” marveled Sohya.
Soon the timer on Cui’s wearcom began beeping. “Oh well,” said Cui as he replaced the cover on the case he was about to open. “It’s time for my medical experiment in Azure Dragon. Why don’t you come along and watch?”
“What about the fungus?” asked Tae, pointing to the case.
“Don’t worry, they won’t die.” Cui shelved the case and walked past them. They climbed through the hatch and into the node, then through another eighty-centimeter hatch into the eastern module. Passing repeatedly through the narrow hatches was becoming a bit of a chore.
The interior of the Azure Dragon module was the most complex space they had yet seen. Perhaps “complex” was a little too complimentary. The space was crammed with food and equipment boxes, waste containers and devices, and tools and components stacked on the floor and hanging from the walls and ceiling. Amid all this clutter was something that looked like a conveyer belt, a bicycle with no wheels, and some spring-loaded exercise gear. Tae looked stunned. “You could get lost in here,” she whispered.
“Don’t drop anything,” said Cui. “We’ll never find it. This is where the automated supply vehicles dock, so we use it for storage.” Sohya and Tae could see another hatch at the opposite end of the module and beyond it a space that looked like a dark cave.
Cui stood on the conveyer belt and removed his shirt. He unhooked several cables tipped with electrodes from a device on the wall, attached them to his naked chest, and donned a mask with a hose leading to another device. “What’s that?” asked Tae.
“Cardiopulmonary-function check. We have to do this every day, along with the training. The low-G environment has a negative effect on muscular and cardiovascular function. The treadmill and the stationary bike are ergometers to measure the work we do while exercising.” He began running on the treadmill.
“Can’t you get exercise out on the surface?” asked Tae.
Cui answered at intervals as he paused to catch his breath. “EVAs are hard on space suits…It’s hard to get efficient exercise…
Anyway, we have to use this equipment.”
“So this is the only exercise you get? What about tennis, or a horizontal bar, or swimming?”
“We’re not…doing this for…pleasure.”
“Do we have to exercise too?” said Tae.
“Fifteen minutes should be…enough…You won’t be here…long anyway. We have to exercise…for an hour.”
“You have to look at the wall for an hour while you run?” Tae furrowed her brows. Sohya put a hand on her shoulder.
“Tae, he’s busy. Let’s talk about it later. We should do some exercise too.” Sohya pointed to the stationary bike. Tae mounted the machine doubtfully. Sohya picked up a spring-loaded chest expander and extended his arms against the resistance. The springs creaked where they were attached to the handles. Cui looked over at him. “We haven’t…used those…for a while. Be careful.”
But before he had finished speaking, the springs separated from their attachments with a metallic squeal. A blur shot past Sohya’s eyes as he reflexively drew in his chin. The springs crashed against the opposite wall. “Whoa!” he shouted.
“This is rusted too!” cried Tae. She was red with exertion, but the pedals were stuck fast.
“It’s not rusted—you have to adjust the torque.” Sohya helped her lower the resistance.
After fifteen minutes of exercise, the pair poked around the module as if it were a yard sale while they waited for Cui to finish his running quota. Twice Peng entered the module and hurriedly grabbed a cylinder similar to tanks used for diving.
There were around twenty of these tanks along the wall. Sohya took one down to examine it more closely. “SFOG” was stenciled on the tank.
Solid Fuel Oxygen Generator, Sohya thought. Why would the base need a supplementary oxygen source?
THEY HAD SEEN all four modules. This completed their tour of the base. Sohya still had to take photographs and write up a report for Gotoba, but their one-week stay had just started. Though they had not come just to examine the base hardware, they still had plenty of time.
It seemed there was nothing left for them to do that day. They were in no position to help the crew; they had received only the most basic training before leaving Earth and had no idea how to perform any of the base tasks. The only way for them to keep from getting underfoot was to kill time in a corner of the habitation module.
“Sohya, look at this.” Tae brought a cup of water. She had rearranged her hair from the bun on her head to braids.
She tilted the cup back and forth with her wrist. It slopped back and forth in the glass with a slow, syrupy motion.
“Isn’t it weird? It looks alive.”
“Careful you don’t spill it,” warned Sohya.
She spilled it. The water suddenly shot over the lip of the cup in a long sheet of fluid that rose higher than her head, like a jellyfish. The tongue of fluid broke into droplets and splashed lazily over the floor panels. Tae dropped to the floor so quickly her braids pointed at the ceiling. “Oh no!” she wailed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would go so high. Where’s a cloth to wipe it up?”
As they searched for a cloth, Jiang stuck his head through the entry hatch. His work moving Xiwangmu 5 was finished for the day. As soon as he noticed what was going on, he yelled, “What have you done?”
Jiang nearly did a somersault coming through the hatch. He grabbed a towel from the garment rack and covered the pool of water with it, carefully wiping the floor as if desperate to get every drop.
“Fresh water is precious! Who said you could do this?”
“It’s not fresh water,” said Sohya defensively. “It’s from the shower.” He pointed to the stall farther back in the module. Jiang sighed deeply.
“Oh, I see. In that case it’s okay. We can replace it.”
“Can’t you recycle water for drinking too?” asked Sohya.
“Sure, but recycled water tastes bad.” Jiang wrung out the soaked towel over the inlet to the recycling unit. “There was a hole in the distillation unit. The E. coli count went through the roof. We have to add tons of silver nitrate to kill the bacteria. The water isn’t undrinkable, but the supply ships bring water that’s much tastier.”
This was the first opportunity Sohya and Tae had had to speak to this young man, the youngest member of the base team. He seemed much more open and approachable than Cui. Sohya decided to risk a question.
“Have we done anything wrong? Cui doesn’t seem to like us much.”
“Oh, he’s just stressed, that’s all. We’ve been away from home for a year. We’re all homesick.”
“Really?” marveled Sohya. “I thought you all had this burning desire to fulfill your mission.”
“Of course we do. Otherwise we could never manage this.” Jiang shrugged and looked at his wea
rcom. His face lit up. “Finally—time for the evening meal. That’s the best stress reliever. It’s my turn in the kitchen tonight. I’ll show you what good cooking is all about.”
“What’s on the menu?” asked Tae.
“We can off-load supplies from Xiwangmu now, so we’re going to have a feast. Camel hump fried in oil, stir-fried abalone—”
“Is that why the base has this smell?” said Tae, jabbing a finger in the air.
Jiang nodded. “It’s too bad we can’t ventilate better. Whatever we can’t scrub stays in the air.”
“Doesn’t that put an extra load on the life-support system?” asked Sohya.
“Lighten up,” chided Jiang. “The Russians actually smoked cigarettes on Mir. Well, I better go get things ready.” He clapped Sohya on the shoulder and went out through the hatch. Sohya was openmouthed with amazement. Jiang was completely different from his nervous counterpart, Cui.
Tae looked delighted. “This is the best thing so far!”
“Didn’t you say something about not liking oil?”
“It’s the smell I don’t like. Chinese food is good every now and then. I think I’ll give him a hand.” She left through the hatch, smiling with anticipation. Sohya shook his head. What kind of an operation was this? He wasn’t sure.
[5]
THE DAY AFTER the festive welcome party, the work of off-loading supplies began in earnest. Sohya and Tae’s weeklong stay on the moon was based on the time required to complete this work, not on any accommodation by the Chinese. They knew nothing about lunar operations, but a week was enough to learn about the base. They observed the crew’s activities very closely.
Each day started with a wake-up call from Beijing Control at 0600. Work started at 0800 and ended at 1800, with a two-hour lunch and rest break in between. An hour of physical training was supposed to be followed by two hours for dinner and private time, then an hour of prep for the following day, with lights out at 2200. But the real schedule was mostly very different.
The crew was up much earlier than 0600. Breakfast was sometimes just a hurried snack. The extra time gained was largely devoted to monitoring and maintenance of the life-support systems. The rest of the day tended to proceed according to plan, but it was difficult to complete everything in the time allotted. It was often necessary to break early from one task and hurry on to the next.
