Moonbase Crisis: Star Challengers Book 1

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Moonbase Crisis: Star Challengers Book 1 Page 2

by Rebecca Moesta


  When JJ saw the building sitting on the fringe between a business district and suburban homes, she didn’t know what to think of it. The squarish tan-brick building looked deceptively like a post office or school. But in front, towered a model of a rocket—life sized?—as well as a solar-power panel, and a large satellite dish much more powerful than anything needed for a home TV setup. An etched metal sign out front read: Challenger Center for Space Science Education.

  While the students filed off the bus, JJ remained in her seat, staring out the window in a daze. “Hmm,” she murmured. “Moon mission.” Gazing beyond the window to the sky, she daydreamed about how light she would feel, skipping over the surface of the Moon in the much lower gravity. She grinned at the thought of her feet kicking up Moon dust.

  “Hey, you fall asleep back there?” the bus driver called to JJ. Startled, she looked up to see that everyone was off the bus and jostling their way toward the building. Blushing, she jumped up from her seat and hurried down the aisle, brushing her blond hair away from her face. She muttered an apology to the driver, slipped off the bus and ran to catch up with the rest of the group.

  Madison always calls me a Pollyanna wishful thinker—what if she’s right? she wondered. Mom can’t even afford to send me to college, so how can I become an astronaut in NASA’s elite space program? Then again, she would never get anywhere thinking like that. Raising her chin, she shoved away such discouraging thoughts and stomped down on her self-doubt. Someone’s got to be the first woman on the Moon—might as well be me.

  The entry hall looked pretty much like any other school building, until Mrs. Koslowski gathered her students in the lobby and they all noticed the displays of miniature rockets, as well as posters of space shuttles, moonbases, space stations and stars.

  “Now we’re talking,” JJ said in approval.

  “Sure beats going to math class,” Tony said with a laugh. He had never been good at the subject, and since he needed help, JJ often did math homework with him.

  Dylan had come in with their classmates, though he lagged behind because of his crutches. JJ was glad to see that her brother was talking to his friend George and seemed to have forgotten all about being nervous for now.

  A tall, brown-haired woman wearing a blue flight suit met the class in the entryway. She gave them a bright, welcoming smile. “Hello, I’m your Flight Director, Commander Buchheim.” She gestured beside her to a dusky-skinned man also dressed in a flight suit. “This is Commander Zota.”

  JJ’s gaze was drawn to him. He had a mysterious presence about him. She didn’t know how else to describe it.

  Commander Zota, who looked as if he might be from India, spoke in a low voice. “Greetings.” His deep gray eyes seemed old and wise, though there were no wrinkles around them. He was handsome—despite a jagged scar down his left cheek—and if it hadn’t been for his pure white hair, he could have passed for a man in his thirties.

  “If you’ll come with me, we can start your mission briefing,” Buchheim continued. Zota directed them toward a door in the nearby hall.

  In the mission briefing room, which looked like a normal classroom to JJ, she sat with Madison and Tony. Her brother and George sat several rows away.

  “Your teacher should have already gone over some background material with you,” Commander Buchheim said. “So who can tell me how far the Moon is from the Earth?”

  “A million miles?” Madison said.

  “Not a bad guess,” Commander Zota said. “But a bit high.”

  A snort erupted on the other side of the room, and Dyl’s friend raised his hand. “384,000 kilometers, give or take,” George said when the Flight Director called on him. “That’s just under a quarter of a million miles.”

  “Good. And how big is the Moon compared to the Earth?” Commander Buchheim asked next.

  JJ knew the answer. She raised her hand. “About one-fourth the size, but Moon gravity is only one-sixth of Earth gravity. So if a person weighs a hundred pounds here, they’d only weigh about seventeen pounds on the Moon.”

  “Thank you. That was very thorough,” Buchheim said. “Did you also know that the same side of the Moon always faces Earth? Some people think that the side of the Moon that faces away from us is the dark side, but there’s no such thing as a permanent dark side—just the far side. Both sides get periods of light and darkness, night and day. Does anyone know how long day and night are on the Moon?” No one answered. “A Moon day is about two weeks long, followed by two weeks of night. What color is the sky on the Moon?”

  “There’s no atmosphere, so it’s like being out in space,” said Dyl, who loved science fiction. “The sky looks black even during the day.”

  After sharing more background about the simulated adventure, the Flight Director gave everyone job assignments: medical technicians, life-support scientists, isolation specialists, data officers, robotic scientists, and other jobs. JJ and Madison were assigned to the communications team.

  The group was split in two and sent to separate rooms-one a mockup of a base on the lunar surface, the other a replica of Mission Control. JJ watched Dyl go through a painted door with the moonbase team to catch their “transport” to the Moon.

  While JJ was at first disappointed to be “stuck on Earth,” she quickly became engrossed in her tasks. Each team in Mission Control worked with their counterparts on the moonbase side of the simulation. Mission Control was a large room that held rows of workstations with computers built into them. Glass observation windows covered one wall. On the front wall, a massive video screen was split into several sections of data labeled Eco, Bio and Geo, along with a view of the Main Control Center, or MCC, at the moonbase.

  It all felt incredibly authentic. Why couldn’t classes be more like this? The scenario held JJ’s attention better than learning from a book, and she was completely swept up in it. By the time the meteor shower emergency occurred, she actually felt alarmed for her brother and the rest of her classmates, who were really just on the other side of the wall.

  After the meteor shower adventure, the moonbase crew returned to Earth, while JJ, Madison, Tony and the other half of the students took their turn at the moonbase as a relief team. When the mission was over, JJ felt exhilarated. “That was the next best thing to really being there,” she said.

  At the end of the field trip, she saw that even Dyl looked satisfied with what he had accomplished. It was disorienting to board the school buses for their return to the real world. Looking through the bus window at the Challenger Center, JJ made up her mind that she wanted to go back.

  When JJ and Dyl got home from school that afternoon, their mother was changing clothes, getting ready for her second job as an evening desk clerk at a local hotel. “I can see you’re both excited, and I want to hear all about your field trip,” she said, looking harried. She pulled her blond hair (a shade darker than JJ’s) back into a ponytail. “But I’m late for a staff meeting. You two will have to fix your own dinner—sorry, but my shift ran long at the coffee shop.”

  Dyl sat down on the sofa beside their tuxedo cat Spock and gave him a skritch behind his pointy ears. “No problem, Mom.”

  “Got it covered,” JJ said. The Wren kids knew the routine by now, and rarely complained. They could fend for themselves when it came to dinner. They had to. After all, their mom worked two jobs and could still barely afford the rent on their little apartment. They didn’t have luxuries, but they had enough.

  JJ, for whom speed was the most important cooking ingredient, stuck to basics like tuna melts or mini-pizzas. Dyl had learned to cook as part of homeschooling, in a class Mrs. Sutro called “Applied Chemistry.” He enjoyed perching on a rolling stool in the kitchen while he made complete meals from scratch.

  “I’ll make chicken fajitas if you’ll clean the kitchen,” Dyl said.

  JJ jumped at the offer. “I’m in.”

  Their mother grabbed her purse, gave each of them a kiss and headed toward the door of their small apartment. �
��Love you both whole bunches,” she said, opening the door to go. “Don’t forget to feed Spock.” She paused to look down at an unmarked envelope lying on the Welcome mat in the hall, then bent over to pick it up. “What’s this?”

  JJ walked over to take a look. “Wasn’t there five minutes ago when we came home.”

  “Probably pizza coupons or something,” Dyl said.

  JJ glanced up and down the hall, but saw no envelopes in front of the other apartment doors, which were closed. There was nobody to be seen.

  Dyl petted Spock, who purred loudly. “What’s it say?”

  Preoccupied with fishing her car keys out of her purse, their mother handed the envelope to JJ, who tore it open to find an elegant printed invitation, complete with the Challenger Center logo at the top. She read aloud with growing amazement and puzzlement.

  Greetings,

  Jennifer Juniper Wren & Donovan Dylan Wren.

  Your interest and potential have been noted.

  You are cordially invited to join a select group of students for

  a private advanced mission at

  the Challenger Center.

  This is a one-time-only offer to participate, free of charge,

  in an extraordinary, exciting adventure.

  The date listed was that coming Saturday, from 9:00 am to 4:00 pm, and the invitation was signed by Commander Benjamin Zota.

  JJ handed it to her brother and let him read it for himself.

  “Weird,” Dyl said. “We just left the Center an hour ago. Why’d we get picked out of the whole class? And how could the message have gotten here so fast?”

  “Maybe they sent everybody an invitation.” JJ’s brows pulled together.

  “But how did Commander Zota know our names and address, and that we’d be interested?” Dyl asked.

  JJ hoped she had been chosen for her own merit, but there was no doubt in her mind about whether she wanted to go. “Either way, I’m in. How can we pass it up?”

  Mrs. Wren shook her head, looking worried. “You know we can’t afford extra activities like this for you right now. We’ve still got medical bills and rent, and my hours might be cut back—”

  JJ showed her the invitation. “Mom, it’s free!”

  Their mother looked unconvinced, so Dyl chimed in. “We didn’t get to tell you much about our field trip today, but it was the most fun I’ve had since the accident. For a while, I even forgot about it.” Obviously uncomfortable being so serious, he resorted to humor then, his favorite method of coping with life. Although there was a twinkle of mischief in Dyl’s eyes, his lips gave a mock quiver, and his voice cracked with melodrama. “Please, Mom? You wouldn’t say no to your only son, would you?” Their mother tried to suppress a laugh at his fake manipulation. Good. She was almost convinced.

  Spock jumped down off the sofa and rubbed himself against their mother’s ankles, apparently doing his best to help.

  “It’s this Saturday,” JJ prodded. “You can drop us off on your way to work. We’ll make our own lunches and everything.”

  When Dyl quietly added, “I really want to do this,” that sealed the deal. Their mother agreed, and as far as JJ was concerned, Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

  ***

  Two

  At the appointed time on Saturday morning, Mrs. Wren dropped JJ and Dyl off at the Challenger Center. With well-practiced movements, Dyl opened the car door, swung his legs out, positioned his crutches, and hauled himself up.

  JJ scrambled excitedly out of the car. “Love you, Mom! We should be finished by four. I’ve got my cell phone.”

  “Love you both whole bunches,” their mother answered automatically. Shutting the car doors, JJ grinned and gave her mom a thumbs-up. Mrs. Wren smiled back and drove away.

  Moving quickly on his crutches, Dyl made his way to the door while JJ gave their mom a final wave. The parking lot looked empty, and JJ assumed the other invitees had already gone inside. She wondered how many had actually been invited.

  “It’s not open,” Dyl yelled. He stood by the entrance and rattled the door to demonstrate. “This is a problem.”

  JJ walked toward him. “We’re not too early. Where is everybody?”

  He groaned. “It’s the wrong time, isn’t it? Or the wrong day maybe? What if we were supposed to go to a different Center? Did you bring the invitation?”

  JJ took a deep breath. It didn’t take much to send her brother into “nervous mode.” She got out the mysterious card and scanned it again, but she had already double-checked everything. “Pretty sure there’s no mistake. Don’t be such a worrywart. You read the invitation as many times as I did.” She sat down on the step and turned her eyes to the tall rocket model that stood outside the front door. Its sleek shape certainly looked impressive.

  As if he didn’t believe her, Dyl pulled an index card from his pocket and verified the information. He nodded to himself. “Check.” During his year of homeschooling with the Sutros, he had gotten into the habit of writing everything he needed to know on index cards and carrying them around with him. Dyl looked at his watch. “We’re three minutes early”

  “It’s Saturday morning, just relax.” In truth, JJ was as eager as her brother, but she tried to stay calm and collected. Pilots and important space mission personnel had to be calm and collected.

  Though it made Dyl feel more secure to put details in writing, she was too impatient to record everything as he did. JJ had a pretty good memory, and as far as she was concerned, if she couldn’t remember it, it must not have been important in the first place. Dyl eased himself down and sat on the steps, while JJ climbed onto a waist-high cement wall to get a better view of the parking lot. “Here comes someone now, turning into the lot, it’s a—whoa—a limo!”

  Dyl gave a snort. “Right. Why didn’t you just say star-ship?”

  JJ ignored her brother’s scoffing remark. “Someone’s getting out. A girl about my age, and she’s coming this way.”

  The girl was short and thin, with straight black hair that hung halfway down her back. She came up the walkway toward them as the limousine glided away. JJ jumped down off the wall to greet her, grinning. “Hi, I’m Jenny June, but my friends call me JJ.” She pointed toward the steps, where Dyl remained seated; he couldn’t move easily enough to jump up. “And that’s my brother Dylan.”

  “Just Dyl,” Dylan corrected.

  The new girl did not smile. “Park Song-Ye,” she introduced herself coolly.

  JJ pursed her lips for a moment. “Your name is Park?”

  The girl crossed her slender arms and frowned irritably. “Park is my last name. It’s Korean. My given name is Song-Ye.”

  “Then why did you say your last name first?” Dyl asked curiously.

  Song-Ye barely gave him a glance. “Because that’s the way we say it in Korea. My father is a diplomat from South Korea, and we’re very proud of our culture.”

  “But you’re not in Korea, are you?” Dyl persisted. Sometimes when he got an idea in his head, he just couldn’t let go. “Why—”

  “Song-Ye, did you say?” JJ cut in quickly. “That’s really pretty.”

  Song-Ye rolled her dark brown eyes and shrugged one shoulder. “Whatever.”

  Though a little put off by the girl, JJ decided to cut her some slack. Maybe Song-Ye wasn’t used to getting up early on weekends.

  Just then, a tall young man jogged up, his light brown skin beaded with sweat. JJ wondered where he had come from, since she hadn’t noticed any cars. He was dressed in jeans, Nike basketball shoes and a well-worn Seanjohn t-shirt. He nodded politely to each of them while he caught his breath. “Name’s King.”

  “King?” Song-Ye cocked her head at him. “As in, ‘Who died and made you king?’”

  JJ was surprised at the girl’s rudeness, but the newcomer grinned. “Nuh-uh. First name’s Elton, but everybody calls me King.” He glanced at his watch and gave a satisfied nod. “Three blocks from the bus stop, and I made it exactly on time.” They
went through a new round of introductions. It turned out that they came from different schools, which made JJ curious about how widely the invitations had gone out … and why there weren’t more eager students here.

  “You here for the private advanced mission?” King asked.

  “Yes, but the door’s locked and we can’t get in,” Dyl said. “And it’s nine o’clock right now.”

  As if his words triggered a response, the entrance to the Challenger Center unlocked from within with a loud clack. The door swung open to reveal a handsome, white-haired man in a blue flight suit standing in the doorway. JJ immediately recognized Commander Zota.

  “Greetings, cadets. I am your Flight Director for today. Please come in.”

  “Cadets?” Dyl asked. “You mean us?”

  Zota held the door open for them.

  “Yeah, as in, a few of us are total space cadets,” Song-Ye muttered.

  Dyl swung forward on his crutches, shooting the Korean girl a mischievous look. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  As they went inside, JJ threw a last glance over her shoulder, but saw no cars in the parking lot, no students rushing for the door. She felt oddly disappointed. “I expected more people to show up. Who wouldn’t jump at a chance like this?”

  Zota cocked an eyebrow at her. “I invited only you four.”

  “Really?” JJ looked at her brother in surprise. “But why did you pick—”

  “All in good time.” Zota led them down the short entry hall. “Today, we’ll use the advanced briefing room, where you’ll learn more about each other and about your mission.” He opened a door that JJ hadn’t noticed on their trip to the center only a few days earlier. Good, something new already. When the others hesitated, JJ bounded through the door to look around. Dylan entered last.

  Though the room was small, it held a lot of equipment they hadn’t seen in the primary briefing room. The walls were covered with at least ten high-resolution viewscreens, each of which showed a different view of Earth transmitted from satellites. A silver panel blinked with rows of multicolored lights; other consoles had rows of toggles and buttons. The room’s ceiling was black and glittered as if lit by thousands of stars.

 

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