by Jake Macklem
“Just make sure you stop on the way back,” Cam joked. “Don’t get swallowed by the black. Shaw out.”
Stillness and quiet settled into the drop pod. This is my favorite part. Drifting toward the moon, Cam sat calmly, enjoying the emptiness. The utter freedom of nothingness. He watched his hat float. He hoped that death came with this type of calm. Peaceful.
It was part of his process to study the orbital survey before he got into the pod and he normally allowed no deviation. But the drop had been scheduled at the last minute and he had been preoccupied with his family. Now he took the time to review it, even though he would rather just relax. Preparation is survival.
“Malolo Pod, display orbital survey for approaching lunar body.” The pod’s operating system did not answer but immediately displayed the first page of the report, including two photos.
The photos made it obvious that the moon was distinctly red, even with its hazy yellowish cloud cover. It was primarily landmass; there were several large lakes scattered about, but nothing that could be called an ocean.
Orbital Survey, Lunar Body 10113R
Location: Orbiting Gas Giant Ophelia, solar system Phaedra, Portal 156, quadrant 9C
Orbital Distance: 337,000 km
Body Diameter: 3,700 km
Gravity: 1.2 G Earth Standard
Atmosphere: Nitrogen-75%, Oxygen-23%, Neon-.4%, Carbon Dioxide-.02%, trace other
Temperature Range at Poles: -3C-20C
Temperature Range at Equator: 25C-55C
Flora: Yes
Fauna: Yes
Sentient Population: None
End Report
“That’s it? Are you kidding me?” He groaned. Orbital reports normally ran at least three or four pages and included detailed photos of the survey area and route, plus stuff like the weather, precipitation, potential natural hazards, and even possibly dangerous animals. How new a find is this place? “Yes?” for Fauna? Seriously? There’s supposed to be some information here. Is this report real? These numbers can’t be right; like an order of magnitude off. Barely bigger than the Earth’s moon, but…Cam did the math. Seven times as dense as Luna? That was denser than any known element in the Verse. Twenty-five percent heavier than solid gold. How did this nonsense even get recorded?
What if the atmosphere readings were as bad as the rest? Will I be able to breathe? Cam was suddenly hit with a bad feeling. This isn’t an accident or an oversight. It feels like it’s on purpose.
Wait.
There is no G-link and Ophelia interferes with all kinds of tech. Of course there wouldn’t be a detailed surface report. Calm down, Cam. He took a deep breath.
It’s just small stuff. No matter what, I’m coming home, Gwen.
He felt the pod shift. The gravity of the moon and the gas giant were taking hold. My least favorite part. As he hit the upper atmosphere the pod started to shake. Cam’s white-knuckled grip on the seat did little to comfort him or stop him from feeling the vibrations of the descending craft. The shaking increased and started to rattle the panels. Cam watched as one screw started turning itself. It’ll hold.
Just when Cam thought the shaking was going to break his neck, it stopped
That was all kinds of unpleasant. Now the long fall. After a few minutes, the chutes deployed and the sudden jerk spun his stomach and pressed him deep into his seat. And that’s why I don’t eat before drops. An endless three minutes later the pod landed.
Cam wasted no time. He unfastened his harness, donned his hat, and removed his gun from the security drawer. Chambering a round, he sighed, feeling complete again. He then stepped to the door and peeked through the thick glass window. The plains were covered in red grass and the pale, pink-green sky was filled with thick, slowly roiling clouds, hazy and yellow. Watching for a minute, he saw no movement.
Cam spun the wheel to retract the lock bolts and shoved the door open with his toe. He leaned up against the wall of the pod to steady himself and stuck his head out for a quick look.
The heat was stifling. Like home. He took a deep breath, tasting the metallic tang of the atmosphere. Bringing the rifle up to his shoulder, he stepped out of the pod. He kept his back to the capsule as he worked in a circle, eyes scanning for threats or life forms. The moon seems to give off heat. Metal traps the heat of the sun. It’s gonna be hotter on the surface than the tech-heads thought. Gonna need more water.
Lowering the rifle, Cam walked back to the pod’s entrance. He filled out his touch-down log and set the parameters for the pod‘s retrieval protocols so it could be picked up when the Po’olu’u returned. The pod would ignite the burner and launch itself back into space for pickup while they sent another down to the pickup point—over three hundred kilometers away. Can’t afford to replace these things.
He methodically went through his departure checklist. Combat armor, backpack, helmet, rifle, GPS, camera, global survey scanner. The list was short because 90% of his gear was in his backpack, which he had triple-checked back on the Po’olu’u. He tied his helmet on to his pack, deciding to stick with his cowboy hat in the heat. No use hanging around.
As always, he paused at the door and made one last check to be sure he had everything. Pushing the door shut, he pulled the lock release. The pod would be unopenable until the proper codes were entered by the technician on the ship. Putting on his backpack, he rested his rifle in the nook of his elbow and tossed the useless lock release. Cam headed into the wild of the moon. Here we go again, Gwen. Got a good feeling. This is the one to get us all off Earth. Someplace with real opportunity for the boys… and for us.
6: Ace
A monotonous buzz hummed in Ace‘s ears. Insects? She opened her eyes, her blurry vision saw objects, but no details. Through the cracks in the roof, beams of sunlight offered the only illumination in the darkness. The beams came to rest on Ace’s stomach, above her belly button, she tried to wipe away the discomfort, but it persisted. It’s so hot.
She moved from the beams and sat up. Grabbing one of the rags she had made from what was left of her uniform, she dipped it into the makeshift bowl that was the Tree-knocker skull. The yellowish tinted water dripped from the rag back into the bowl as she squeezed out the excess. Sitting up, she wiped the rag over her face and neck, letting the water run down her body. The relief was temporary but helped regulate her temperature. It also refreshed her senses and quieted the buzz in her head.
It had taken weeks, but she had turned the fallen tree pile, over the ravine, into a place to survive—a multilevel hut. She slept in a hammock near the top, with two nearby escape routes in case something came in from the ground entrance. One of the upper exits was blocked with pieces of debris from a storm. But there has not been a storm in some time, she was not sure how long.
Carefully, she climbed down to the ground. She looked at her “calendar tree,” close to a hundred gouges, one for each day that had passed. Did I do today? No, I just came down… Did I do yesterday? She shrugged and walked past the supplies and a set of sharpened sticks to use in defense of the hut. She had also brought electronic devices from the ship, hoping to create a signal that could be tracked. None of it worked, and she was unsure why.
She struggled to put on her boots; neither the straps nor her fingers cooperated. Standing, she slipped on the plastic-lined backpack. Picking up the sun-dried Tree-knocker hide, she tossed it over her backpack and shoulders, making a long cloak. Flipping part over her head, she created a hood, keeping everything in place with the loop of cable and a Tree-knocker tooth. Is that everything? She was not sure.
Ace moved one of the metal sheets she used to reinforce the entrance, creating a gap just big enough for her to squeeze through, then got on her hands and knees and crawled out.
Looking up at the pink sky, and the heavy layer of thick yellow clouds, she squinted and blocked the light with her hand as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. A new forest had grown around her hut while she worked on it; providing shade and protection. Sprouts had sprun
g up from the splintered stumps, and over the months had grown a foot or more a day. Like weeds.
Sliding the metal plate back into place, Ace felt a tug in her mind. Boots, Tree-knocker skin, backpack. What am I forgetting? I’m usually holding something. Oh… the spear. Sighing, her shoulders slumped. I don’t want to go back. Shank it. Ace started walking. I haven’t needed it.
Rambling through the woods, sweat dripped into her eyes as she took deep breaths. After what felt like miles, she stopped and leaned against a tree. The heat must be getting to me. Maybe the river moved. No… Silly. Rivers don’t move… They run! Chuckling aloud, her eyes went wide at the sound of her voice. She covered her mouth and dropped to a knee, peering around the woods. The branches swayed in the hot breeze, dappling the shadows that flickered and waved. Something heard me. Stupid! Why’d you make noise?
She dashed to the next tree, staying low to the ground. Moving between trees and examining every shape in the distance slowed her, and her heightened awareness took a physical toll on her by the time she reached the edge of the forest. Under the light green sky, through the waves of heat, she saw the river cutting through the red-grassed plain a hundred meters away. Ace stayed crouched and swept her gaze across the open plain, her eyes darting to the elusive shadows that prowled through the grass. There’s something out there. She could not get a clear look at the mystery shadows. They’re too fast.
Patting the ground, not wanting to take her eyes from the danger in the grass, she could not find what she looked for. Risking attack, Ace glanced around. Where is it? Where’s my spear! Her brow furled. They took it!
A snap rang out and she spun toward the threat. They’re flanking me! Reaching up she grabbed onto a branch and pulled, it snapped and bent down, but the fibers stayed firmly connected to the tree. She hung from the branch, jerking and twisting it; after great effort, she finally broke it free. Gripping the flexible stick in one hand, Ace swung around violently, the branch whistled as it cut through the air. Overextending, she lost her balance, stumbled, and fell to the ground.
This is it! Curling into a ball she waited for the pain—tooth, claw, something, anything—but nothing came. Glancing around, nothing but the shadows moved. She slowly stood. What are they waiting for? Ace shrugged and walked out into the field, the sharp blades of red grass coming up to her waist. The grass had made quick work of her uniform, but the Tree-knocker’s scaled-hide protected her from the fine cuts the blades caused. The yellow clouds thinned, and the setting sun bled its rusty hue into the pale sky, spreading from the horizon like a bruise. It got late fast today. At least it’s cooling off.
Undoing the tooth and cable, Ace slipped the leather off but kept her boots on as she walked into the slow-moving, yellowish water. It was warm, but cooler than the air. She waded out to the lily pads with the red and black flowers and pulled off her backpack. The empty pack was buoyant, so she reached both hands into it and pushed the bottom down into the river, letting the water wash in to fill it. She squatted until she could feel the mucky bed through the pack. Staying submerged to her neck, she slid the pack on and stepped to the nearest pad. She grasped the stem of the lily and slid her hands downward, following the stem to its slimy root, she pulled it up and moved to the next. When she held a half dozen she stood up, moving carefully to avoid spilling the water filled pack.
The droplets falling onto her head felt refreshing as she lifted the lily plants overhead and with practiced hands, lowered them into her backpack of water. Walking back to the shore was slow, checking her footing before committing to each step. Don’t fall again. The warm breeze caressed her skin as she emerged from the water, her boots squishing with each step. She knelt next to the Tree-knocker hide, and scooped it up, keeping her back straight. She searched the ground, Where’s the spear? Where the spear should have been, there was only a useless broken branch.
Eyes wide, Ace spun around, checking in all directions sloshing water from the backpack. It was right here. Scanning the horizon, there was nothing but the swaying grass and fading light. Just think, did I leave it in the water? Glancing at the water, she shook her head. “I wouldn’t have done that.”
Ace wiped her hands over her face in frustration and regretted it as the stinging secretion filled her eyes. The slime! “Shank!” Ace wiped her hands on the ‘knocker hide, scraping off as much of the slick goo as possible.
Forcing her eyes open, Ace struggled to focus. I need to… She stumbled, splashing water out of her backpack. Why’s it so hard to think? Steadying herself, she watched the lily pad floating on the river. The red flowers are really pretty. I think Mick would like them.
“I do like them.” The graveled voice resonated with a thick urban accent.
Ace smiled. “I knew you would, Mick.”
The tall man stepped in front of Ace, his metal left arm glinting in the setting light. His slacks and white tank top were clean and so vividly bright compared to the dull reds, purples, and blues of the moon. “They’re pretty, but it’s getting late Ace. It’s time to head back.”
Ace nodded. “Okay. Will you walk me to school, Mick?”
“Sure kid. I’ll walk with you.” Mick reached out and took Ace’s hand and together they headed to the woods. “How’s school?”
“It’s hard. I don’t like it. The classes don’t make sense and I’m always alone.” Ace absently latched the tooth and cable of the Tree-knocker hide.
“What about the teachers? You can talk to them, can’t you?” Mick asked.
“There aren’t any. I have to figure everything out by myself. It’s not fair,” Ace pouted.
“What I tell you about that?” Mick snapped.
Ace recited, “The only thing fair in the Verse is that it’s equally unfair to everyone. But Mick, this is different. The tests are pass or fail. And failing means I’m kicked out of school.”
Mick shrugged. “So don’t fail.”
Ace cocked her head and lifted her eyebrow.
“You don’t fail often,” Mick continued.
Ace stopped. “Mick, I don’t want to die.”
Mick gently lifted Ace’s chin with his big metal hand. “No one wants to die, kid. But there are those who die and those that fight to live… And what do we do?”
Ace smiled a tight-lipped grin. “We shank shit up and take as many of them with us as we can.”
“That’s right, Ace.” Mick smiled proudly. They started walking again. The shadows of the woods deepened as the light continued to fade overhead. With Mick leading the way, they made their way to Ace’s tree-pile hut.
7: Cam
Cam set up his tripod so the recorder faced the rising sun. He sat next to it, watching the bright star through the hazy green edge of the gas giant. “I‘ve already covered ten or eleven kilometers this morning. Went to sleep as soon as it was cool enough. You would not believe the heat, Gwen. The whole moon’s covered with iron dust and it just soaks up the heat all day and soon the ground is as hot as a flapjack griddle. I woke up in the middle of the night. It‘s cooler but still warm. And that gas giant, her name is Ophelia—at night, it fills half the sky. Real beautiful, and plenty bright enough to see by. Makes everything look green.”
The sky brightened as the sun rose over the horizon, shifting the light to a deep crimson. “They call Mars the Red Planet, but this moon is the reddest thing I‘ve ever seen. There‘s so much iron here. Even the dust rusts. And it gets into everything, Gwen. The grass and leaves, even the sunrise and sunset. That’s why I wanted to share this with you, babe. The first dawn in a new place. It‘s special. Hell, I‘m probably the first poor bastard that ever had to deal with the heat, but seeing something like this...”
Cam fell silent, basking in the beauty of the rising yellow sun as it passed behind the green haze of the nearby planet. As more of the star moved beyond its green filter, more light fell directly through the moon‘s atmosphere, igniting the sky above him into a conflagration of colors. Crimsons and pinks, oranges and yellows,
the morning light swirled through the spectrum, dark to light. The colors changed quickly, but not before Cam was able to admire the various hues between the shades. Eventually, it would fade into the bleaching and blinding mid-rotation sun, but for now...
Forgetting that he was off-camera, Cam smiled and pointed at the glory. “This is why I love doing this, Gwen. This makes it worth it. Orbital scans tell us that it‘s an iron-based satellite and that the atmosphere is biocompatible with a high neon saturation. School tells us that iron and neon are red. But when you‘re on a rock like this, in a moment like this, you don‘t just see it. You feel it. You can practically smell it.” He inhaled deeply, snorted, and exhaled in a huff.
“Okay, this place smells like a nasty old MRE can, but that‘s the best part! There are lots of new worlds that are open to humans willing to settle or prospect. Some worlds are just now being colonized. I want that for us, Gwen. I want to raise our boys alongside other species, under new stars. I want them to be able to see the Verse! And think of what they‘ll learn. They’ll learn things we can’t even think of asking about. There’s more in this Verse than just a dying planet and memories. We could be a part of something bigger than anyone ever thought possible, and I want that for us. I think the boys deserve it.”
Don’t push it. “Your love is what has kept me going for the last two years. Your face is the first and last thing I see every day. Knowing I’ll be there holding you in my arms when you watch this, the feeling I get, nothing in the Verse is gonna keep me from that joy, Gwen. How’s that saying go… wild horses couldn’t drag me away. I’m coming home, Gwen. I’m coming.” Cam tapped the record button and turned off the power. She’ll like that. He grinned as he thought of her smile and the deepened color of her cheeks. That image sat in his mind as he collected the few bits of gear he had used while stopping for a snack and five minutes for Gwen.
