“Sorry about the cold welcome. We had to verify your medical condition.”
“Perfectly understandable.”
“Would you please follow me to meet the heads of our community?”
“What’s your name?”
The question took her by surprise. She had known everyone for as long as she could remember and this was a novel request. “Sonia.”
“I’m Sal.” He extended a hairy hand.
She briefly waved delicate fingers forward before indicating the door. “Let’s not keep the council waiting.”
“You speak very good English,” he commented as they walked. Potted plants lined each side of the corridor and he carefully followed her cautious attitude.
“Computers teach us the language, I never wondered about it. Do you speak another one?”
“Two others. What do you do, Sonia?”
“I am the doctor here.”
“Is it purely low gravity that makes everyone so small and thin?”
“Mostly. We were modified so that our organs and muscles use a minimum of energy.”
“Why?”
“To make better use of very limited resources. Am I walking too fast?”
“No, just looking at the vegetation.” The corridors and ceilings were covered with plants and it was like strolling in a forest. Except that this forest produced vegetables and fruits of every sort. The earth man stepped over cucumbers branches spilling across the corridor and bent to avoid overhanging green apples.
After going through several turns they reached an unmarked door and Sonia led the way inside. Following Sal’s earlier example she introduced everyone to the newcomer before sinking gratefully into her seat. After welcoming Sal, Mathew took charge of the reunion.
“What is your occupation?”
“Propulsion engineer.”
“Why did you ask about the war, were you involved in it?”
“My shuttle was hit and destroyed by a missile, I was curious about the result. And no, I was not a soldier.”
“Our doctor discovered that you had augmented reflexes. Is that of important use in your field?”
“Not really.”
“Would you like to sit?”
“No thanks. I’ve been lying down for so long, it’s good to stretch the legs.”
“Such a waste of energy,” complained Billy.
Sal looked at him without understanding. He turned to Mathew and spoke slowly. “I would like to return to earth on your next shuttle flight. I don’t think I belong here.”
“You’ve got that right,” mumbled Billy.
“I’m afraid your request is an impossible one, through no fault of mine, I assure you. You see, in the year 2158, biological warfare on earth escaladed to such heights that entire continents were bombed to prevent spreading diseases. It didn’t work and the planet was wiped out. The human race only survives in space.”
“Impossible,” said Sal flatly. “There are always survivors.”
“Not this time. The diseases released were so vicious that they modified human DNA, meaning that every offspring was a carrier. The destruction of the human race was biologically engineered.”
“No disease would be released without a cure for it,” argued Sal.
“There were 214 of those diseases. Nobody was immune to all of them.”
“There were over fifteen billion people on the planet when I was there. Some of them must have been immune to everything.”
“Then radiation levels would have taken care of those survivors. I don’t remember how many hundreds of nuclear devices were detonated, but believe me, everyone’s gone.”
“Nuclear shelters were everywhere, people would have survived radiations.”
“If that’s the case, though I doubt it very much, it doesn’t change the fact that we have no mean of sending you back there. We have no mode of transportation.”
The earthman looked around, turning his ridiculously thick neck toward every face in the room. “So you have been living cut off from earth for 349 years?”
“That’s correct.”
“How many of you are on the moon now?”
“Because of reasons that we shall not discuss at this point, our numbers have been greatly limited due to all types of factors.”
“Were you contaminated by the viruses?”
“Not at Base four, no.”
“How many are you here?”
“Curious fellow, isn’t he?” commented Billy with an amused grin.
Sal looked at him without blinking and Sonia couldn’t interpret his body language. For an instant the dark eyes became slits and the muscular arms crossed themselves over his thick chest.
“We maintain our population at a constant 67 for food and air purposes,” answered Mathew after a pause.
“Are you telling me that this is all that’s left of the human race? 67 of you? Why don’t you expand these tunnels, fill them with more air?”
“Oxygen supplies are very limited.”
“What about the ice on the poles?”
“All exploited and depleted before the wars. Like oil on earth, only when it runs out do you realize what you’ve done.”
The newcomer fell silent and gazed at nothing for a few seconds. “You call this place Base four, any other bases left with people?”
Victor spoke for the first time. “Originally there were five permanent installations on the moon. Three were destroyed during the war and the other one was contaminated when a survivor such as yourself was rescued. Base four is the last one.”
“I see. Have those installations been fully scavenged?”
“Our ancestors salvaged everything that could be used,” explained Mathew. “Would you mind telling us who you were working for and what were your functions at the moment your shuttle was attacked, as well as your full name and appropriate identification number?”
The question seemed important and all present were impressed at Mathew’s knowledge of such details.
“What would be the point? According to you, there’s nothing left of my world.”
“I am the chief historian of the community and we keep vast memory banks of the events preceding the cataclysm. Knowing a bit more about you might help us figure out how we can make the best use of your talents. As you can guess, everyone here has an area of expertise. We don’t have any propulsion engineers so you could probably greatly contribute to our community in ways that we are unaware of.”
Billy raised a doubtful eyebrow in a way that seriously questioned that statement.
“My DNA should tell you all you need to know about me. Could I consult this library?”
“That can certainly be arranged. You will want to know what happened after your… departure.”
“That’s right. Any satellites left around either the moon or the earth?”
“We have no way to know. The moon was heavily bombed toward the end of the cataclysm and all our shuttles and landing ports were destroyed.”
“But you could build and sent a communication satellite to earth, to monitor activity there and find out if anyone’s left.”
“Why would we want to do a foolish thing like that?” cut in Billy. “A terrible waste of material and energy.”
“A waste of energy?” exclaimed Sal. He walked around the table as he spoke, a new concept for the sitting people. “Earth has unlimited supplies of oxygen and energy. It’s your only way to grow.”
“Earth is a radioactive wasteland,” stated Billy. “There’s nothing there for us.”
“You don’t know that. You said yourself that you don’t even communicate with it.”
“Communicate with who? There’s nobody left.”
“I refuse to accept that. If you don’t go back to earth, you wither and die. It’s that simple. Surely you realize that.”
“We’ve been surviving quite well until now, Sal,” cut in Mathew. “Please don’t judge us too hastily. Maybe you should consult the war records before we pursue this
discussion. Sonia, could you lead Sal to his room and then to the library?”
The short woman got up with a grunt and led the bewildered stranger outside. The door closed hermetically after them.
“That Neanderthal is going to be trouble,” stated Billy.
“I suspect he’ll realize how hopeless his ideas are when he reads a bit of history,” said Victor.
“I don’t know. He sounds like the stubborn type. Maybe it would be best to cut his oxygen while he sleeps,” complained the old man without conviction.
“Is that a suggestion?” asked Mathew.
“Just an idea.”
Mathew resumed. “I know that some of you are afraid of him and what he represents. Believe me, I have no intention of putting anyone at risk by taking this man’s presence lightly. He is potentially very dangerous and if he should get violent I doubt we could do much to stop him, even with the electrosticks. But this is a fantastic opportunity for us to learn, to even improve our conditions. Who knows what contribution a man like this could make? His presence here is incredible and we must give him the chance to prove himself.”
“Is that the historian talking?” asked Billy.
“No, it’s the elected mayor of Base four. We will give Sal the opportunity to cope with his situation and to join our community.”
“What if he doesn’t care to join us?” asked Victor.
“He will. What else can he do?”
* * *
“Do you mind if I take a nap?” asked Sonia.
“Are you all right?”
“Perfectly fine, by our standards. Just extenuated. We have very slow metabolisms that require a lot of sleep. Just wake me up when you’re done.”
“Sure.”
She was sleeping less than a minute later, her delicate frame stretched on a library couch. Sal shook his head and returned his attention to the screen before him.
He scrolled page after page of atomic disaster, of hydrogen bombs being detonated across the world map in seemingly random order, of reports declaring such or such area a biological death ground. The human race had tried its best to annihilate itself, and had certainly gone out with a bang.
When Sonia woke some hours later, he was still hunched over the screen like a stubborn child refusing to accept the harsh reality. She blinked and saw a part of what he was staring at. It was a technical blueprint of some kind, nothing she had ever encountered before in the library. She spied the bold red letters ‘Restricted File’ on top of the screen. The image instantly went out and he spoke without turning.
“Slept well?”
“Yes. I’m sorry about the war results. It must be hard to accept.”
“It’s gonna take some time,” he agreed while rubbing tired eyes.
“What were you looking at just then? I saw blueprints of some kind.”
He slowly turned around. “Just checking out what sort of energy system is being used here, and the extent of Base four.”
Those weren’t restricted files, they couldn’t be. Maybe she had just imagined it. There weren’t any of those left in the library and everyone could access anything.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starved.” He rubbed his belly and smiled.
She led the way to the communal kitchen. A dozen people were calmly sitting there and Sonia introduced them all. Sal insisted on shaking hands with everyone, a forgotten tradition being brought back and accepted with enthusiasm. Smiling faces asked all types of questions about earth, simple things like: Have you ever walked in a forest? Do you know how to swim? Sal answered and asked about the moon, creating a fascinating two-way conversation on trivial matters.
Sonia got tired after an hour and returned to her room. Sal was still eating when she left and the curious crowd had quickly sobered up at the amount of food disappearing inside the stocky man.
He would certainly need to be rationed in the coming days.
* * *
“Hi,” said Mathew without getting up. The doctor walked inside his small living room and sank heavily into a cushioned chair.
“Is this about Sal?” she asked.
“Yes. You’ve been spending some time with him. How is he getting along?”
“Very well. He’s made friends already. Young Simon, in particular, has become his shadow.”
“Good. He’s been with us for eight days, do you think now would be a good time to approach him with some duties or responsibilities?”
“Probably, he must be getting restless without anything to occupy himself.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure…”
“What is it?”
“Have you, eh, noticed something strange about him?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, little details, signs of depression, information about his past life, his real name…”
“You mean?”
“Shuttle Median six was a commercial vehicle converted for the war effort. The escape pod of our friend comes from it but his DNA doesn’t match any on-board personnel. All this information comes from the pod computer, by the way. There was a Salvatore Ramone on that shuttle, a propulsion engineer, but his DNA doesn’t match the sample you got.”
“Salvatore Ramone?”
“In those days people carried their parent’s name,” explained Mathew. That tradition had long ceased to exist on the moon where every birth was a careful blend of genetic material from many donors.
“Why would he lie to us?”
“There is more. While you worry if he can occupy himself, I’ve been monitoring his activities at the library.”
“You’ve been spying on him?”
“In a way, yes. Did you know that he only sleeps 6 hours out of 24? He’s been a very busy boy and this is what he’s working on.”
Sonia was shocked. She had no idea that Mathew had the ability, or the possibility, to look over people’s shoulders like that. It shattered the image of the private society she had imagined living into.
The mayor pointed to his wall monitor and gave brief instructions. A resume of hours and dates, with topics and diagrams, showed what Sal had been doing in the past days.
“He has isolated two regions on earth where he obviously believes that people might have survived: a small research center near the North Pole and the Indonesian island of… I can’t pronounce it.”
“Does your resume show him accessing restricted information?”
“What do you know about that?” exclaimed Mathew with horror. “Did he talk about it?”
Sonia was taken aback by his reaction. “No, he didn’t. What is this all about? Is there such a thing as restricted files? How come we don’t know about them?”
“Ever since Base four has existed there have been restricted files. I can’t access them, nobody can. You need to know a very complex code and answer different questions with that code to gain access.”
“Who created those files?” asked Sonia while already guessing at the answer.
“The military,” admitted Mathew.
* * *
An unclear and unfocused tension swept the chaotic room and landed on the opening door a second before the burly form of the earthman walked in. Sal apparently noticed the electric atmosphere and stopped at the end of the long table around which sat the council of Base four. He stood there defiantly.
He should know better by now, reflected Mathew while clearing his throat. “We have some grave matters to discuss here today and let’s not waste any time getting at the heart of the subject. Sal, it came to our attention that you have accessed classified documents from our library. Would you care to explain how a civilian like you could manage such a thing?”
“Not really.”
Everyone stared blankly at the man for a second, unsure how to react. Unabashed, Sal continued on a neutral tone. “You gave me free access to your library, it’s my business what I do while I’m there.”
“Oh, we know what you do while you’re there,” commented Billy.
“Thinking of the North Pole and Indonesia…”
“Easy, Billy,” cut in Mathew.
“No, this has to be said,” pursued the old man with flashing eyes. “We save him, we feed him, and so far he’s done nothing whatsoever to repay us. It’s about time he returned the favor.”
“By giving you the access code of those military files?” teased Sal with a smile.
“That would be a start,” admitted Victor.
The burly man looked around the room with an amused expression. “I think I’ll hang on to them for a while longer.”
“Why won’t you share it with us?” asked Mathew.
“Because you people, excuse me for saying so, have become a bunch of indolent underachievers. Oh, you survive well on the moon, I’ll give you that, but you haven’t accomplished anything worth mentioning in the past 200 years. What will you do with those files? You’ll use them to survive and that’s it. It might increase the number of sleeping zombies of this place, but certainly won’t be used in any intelligent way.”
“But you’ll put them to good use,” said Mathew.
“That’s right.”
“And what will you do with them?”
“It will have to be a surprise.”
“This is totally unacceptable,” exclaimed Billy. “How can we trust a man who was part of the maniacs who blew up the earth? He’s lying to us just like he lied about his name. He’s a soldier.”
“What do you answer to that?” asked Mathew to the standing man.
“I don’t have to. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me…”
“Actually, we have a few more questions.”
“Excellent. We’ll have something to talk about later.” With three quick steps the man reached the door and was out of the council room before anyone could add another word.
“Who does he think he is?” exclaimed Billy. “We’re the council of Base four!”
“That doesn’t appear to carry a lot of weight with him,” commented Victor. “Mathew, what do you know about those files?”
“Not much,” admitted the historian. “The first council believed that secret military installations were hidden on the dark side of the moon but all their efforts to find them were in vain.”
“What sort of installations?” asked Billy.
“Who knows? Possibly missiles launching facilities with nuclear shelters or equipment stashes, nothing is sure.”
“And he knows about all this?”
“Yes.”
“What can he hope to do with this information?” wondered Victor.
Original Strand Page 2
