by George Deeb
Trailblazer Moon Base station commander Anthony Travellor leaned back in his chair and gathered his thoughts. The computer screen in front of him showed a flashing cursor and the word 'Ready'. It had taken him a while to get used to speaking his reports instead of typing them. Typing was slower, which gave you time to think and organize your thoughts as you typed. Speaking required you to have the organizing completed before you started. The Talk-into-Text program written by 361 software engineers had formatting choices built in, so he didn't have to worry about headings and accepted formats. He just selected 'Status Report' and the computer would do the rest. He hadn't trusted it at first, thinking he would have to tell the computer where to put punctuation, or start a new paragraph, but this software did a good job of handling most of that. He would only have to review and make a few minor changes afterwards.
“March the fifth, twenty-thirteen.” said Travellor, as he watched '05MARCH2013' displayed on the screen as the computer interpreted and formatted his words. “From Trailblazer Moon Base Station Commander to Operation 361 Space Ops Command.”
The computer screen showed 'From: TMBSC To: OP361SOC'. He continued speaking.
“Mission Status Update and Review. Item number one.”
Satisfied that it looked correct so far, but still not completely trusting the software, Travellor continued.
“Trailblazer Moon Base is now at a stage of development that would only have been considered to be a fantasy at one time. Originally envisioned as a habitat designed to primarily keep its inhabitants alive, and secondarily as a test base for off world operations, the base has advanced so far beyond establishing a simple outpost on the moon that even those of us who planted the flag are amazed on a daily basis. Though on a smaller scale, the base is now a habitat that operationally can challenge our most advanced military and scientific research facilities on Earth. Once 361 architects were set loose from the restrictions of our own technology, they designed (no doubt thinking it more of a mental exercise than a practical one) an operational structure that will serve for tens of years to come.”
“TMB is both a Research and Development center, and on a limited scale a Fabrication and Testing center. As such we are at a point where we need to increase the number of personnel on station in order to meet our future goals. Transient staffing is no longer adequate for continued development. Presently most of the structure remains empty and unused. The base is ready for them.”
Travellor took a sip of coffee, and tried to organize in his mind how he wanted to word the next part of his report. It could cause trouble in what is presently a clockwork operation.
“I realize that our agreement with the Ganaphe' restricts the number of personnel we can keep stationed on the base. That agreement was made at an earlier stage of our relationship, and was understandable as to why they demanded that restriction. We can not overlook the fact that our purpose for being here has greatly changed from the original concept. Our mission now is to continue to advance our capabilities in space operations. To do so demands we have more people on station. We must approach the Ganaphe' to change that part of our agreement, and to do so in a way that will keep both parties satisfied.”
'I certainly hope you can figure out a way,' he thought, 'because I can't.'
“Item number two.” he continued. “Since we lack the technology and engine capabilities of the Ganaphe', we are not at present capable of making repetitive controlled and undetected landings on Earth. We still do not know how their shuttle engines work except that gas reaction thrust is not used by them. Consider these factors. Landings using techniques similar to those used in our space program would expose our existence, and would be very restrictive in landing locations. This is not even considering the dangers involved in high speed penetration of the atmosphere, as we sadly know from our own STS program history. Our ships operating from TMB were assembled on location, and did not require an engine capable of overcoming the Earth's gravitational force. Our present engines are capable of propelling our ships away from the moon without excessive fuel consumption, and allow them to travel a relatively great distance in space. These engines are not capable of leaving the Earth's gravitational pull.”
“With those factors in mind, I propose a two program approach on the development of our own ships. One program for developing extraterrestrial ships that are not capable of atmospheric flight. This program will have a limited, and hopefully short lifetime. Operating from TMB, this will give us the capability to expand exploration of our solar system now. Although they will not be able to enter the atmospheres of other planets, they will give us the ability of pinpoint delivery of instruments and satellites, and scientific measurements and tests that can be modified on location in real time (avoiding unexpected surprises). These ships should be designed for instrumentation, payload, and speed. The second program should focus on a ship design capable of leaving and re-entering Earth's atmosphere under its own power, with controlled decent, and landing capability at any normal flight station. It should be able to reach TMB in hours. Avoidance of detection would be a definite benefit.”
“This will not be an easy task, as you are no doubt thinking right now. But we have to consider that the Ganaphe' will not always be here. If not for their suffering a series of bad circumstances (Lucky for us), they would probably have already left on their journey back home. Remember that they have been away from home and family for over six years. One day they will have enough of the puzzle pieces to leave and they will not hesitate. It's only a matter of time before the Orysta is freed, and they have devised a propulsion system worth taking the risk on (Probably a Cove engine!). We must plan now for the time when the Ganaphe' are not around.” Travellor grew melancholy at the thought, and added “I'll be sorry to see them leave – every one of them.”
“Item number three. GRAIL is gone, but Jade Rabbit is here. LADEE will arrive soon enough and the LRO continues to fly above us. The Moon will continue to be the test bed for space exploration for any capable country on Earth for some time to come. I can almost envision a sky full of orbiting satellites, and a surface covered in crawling robots. Sometimes I think we should build a very large NO LOITERING sign and make it visible to all comers. But that is not practical. As of this time we do not have the ability to camouflage the base without the Ganaphe'. We need to develop this technology or figure out another way to accomplish this.”
“Item number four. I like knowing which way is up and which is down. I could probably get used to hopping around, but walking is more practical. Again, it is Ganaphe' technology that supplies us with Earth comparable gravity. Again, let me state that they may not always be around – and their departure may be sooner than we want to believe. I would suggest we try to buy whatever creates that gravity from them, but I doubt they would want to travel between galaxies without gravity on their ship. Viable option – Find out if they can build a gravity generator for us. 361 has more resources and talent available than any other organization in existence on Earth. The question is can they build such a device for us using our technology? The next question - would they? I may be wrong but I suspect that Orysta has the necessary information to build such devices in its data banks.”
“Item number five. It should be a consideration of all future plans that they be conceived and executed sans Ganaphe'. We depend on their space craft and power generation systems for too much right now – it's time to wean our selves off of that dependence. Mission Report Ends. Anthony Travellor. Trailblazer Moon Base Commander.”
Travellor took a large sip of his coffee, and reviewed the formatting of the message. It looked good. He could pick a few nits here and there, but what showed on the screen got the message across. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard, and the message was encrypted and transmitted to Earth. There was probably going to be some blow-back from this. Everything was running smoothly between 361 and the Ganaphe' – so why fix it if it ain't broke. His instincts were telling him something different. The Ganaphe' h
ad been marooned for over six years, on what should have been and eight month job. If it was him, he would have been itching to get back to 'civilization'. No doubt access to Earth had made things more bearable for the Orysta's crew, but there was family and loved ones back home who would be worried or even thinking the crew was dead. The need to get home pulled from both directions.
And where in Hell was the rescue ship that should have been looking for them? True, a galaxy was a large area to search – but six years? Certainly a people used to traveling between galaxies had developed an effective way to search one. Something must have gone wrong.
4
The doorbell sounded and Travellor, his thoughts lost in the daily report he was reading in his quarters, instinctively gestured to open the door. It took several seconds before he realized that no one had entered his quarters, and he turned to look at the entrance. Mersuul stood there staring at him, but not entering. He was confused by her facial expression, which was a mix of anger, aloofness, and doubt. He stood up from his desk and walked over to her, still trying to figure out what was going on.
“Why... aren't you coming in?” he asked.
“Because I was not sure you would want me to!” she spat.
His eyes opened wide in surprise, and his body involuntarily jerked slightly back. Now he was even more confused. Especially since he considered his quarters to be their quarters – together. Mersuul spent most nights with him here. He thought she felt the same way. Because of her duty assignments she hadn't stayed there the last two nights, but had stayed at her own quarters on the Orysta. Now that he thought about it he realized that for those last two days she had been very curt and formal when talking to him. He had been so busy himself that he had thought it was just his imagination.
“Why wouldn't I want you to?” he asked carefully.
She touched the screen of the tablet in her hand and scrolled a few times, then began reading.
“We have to consider that the Ganaphe' will not always be here. If not for their suffering a series of bad circumstances (LUCKY FOR US !!!!.), they would probably have already left on their journey back home.... As of this time we do not have the ability to camouflage the base without the Ganaphe'. We need to develop this technology or figure out another way to accomplish this.... IT SHOULD BE A CONSIDERATION OF ALL FUTURE PLANS THAT THEY BE CONCEIVED AND EXECUTED SANS GANAPHE' .... “
“Whoa – whoa – whoa! That's the report I filed last week? How did you get it?”
“Commander Farber-Chatwell had enough respect for us to forward this to the Grilik. He said it brought up many issues that need to be discussed.” she answered, with obvious anger in her eyes. “Respect that you did not have enough of to tell me yourself!”
Travellor unconsciously shook his head, still confused.
“I had no idea you had any interest in my mission reports, and they have nothing to do with you. What do you mean didn't tell you myself? Tell you what?”
“That you want to disconnect contact with us.” she said with tears now running down one cheek. “That you do not want us around now that your base is running well.”
He was stunned into silence. It was a while before he could talk again.
“That's what you got from my report – that I don't want Ganaphe' around – that I don't want YOU around?”
“That is what you stated in your report.”
The hallway outside seemed to get very busy for a hallway that normally had little traffic. People who walked by made an effort to look straight ahead as they passed. Travellor leaned back against the door jam and smiled.
“Would you please come in, and let me explain it to you?” he asked.
She hesitated, pursed her lips, and slowly walked into the room.
“There is nothing to explain. It is all in the report.” she said.
“I think I know what is going on, and if I'm right it makes me very happy.”
Mersuul did not respond, but just stood there with her arms at her side, not looking at him.
“There is nothing in that report that says I don't want Ganaphe' – and especially YOU around. Only a person who is emotionally overly sensitive could take it that way.”
She spun around quickly, ready to say something but stopped when Travellor put up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Before you say anything, let me finish first.” he said. “I guess I have never said it to you – probably because I didn't think it needed to be said, but here goes. The reason you are wrong is that I am in love with you. I can't imagine you not being around – not being with me. If the Orysta was repaired tomorrow and you all could go home, I would ask – BEG – you to stay. I thought you knew that. I'm sorry that I never said it before. I guess it was because I wasn't sure as to how you felt about me.”
Travellor waited for Mersuul to respond, but she just stood there looking at him. The anger had gone from her face, and now there was no expression at all. She just stood there staring at him. After some time had passed he began to worry some thing was wrong. He took the tablet from her and put it on the desk, and then took hold of both her hands.
“Mersuul... are you alright?” he asked, just as her hair flashed in a series of iridescent colors. “Wow! I've never seen that before.”
“What?”
“Your hair just changed like a color light show.”
“Oh,” she said, “that. It is all right. Do not worry. I am fine.” Her words came out without emotion or expression, like she was in shock.
She pulled her hands from his, moved around him, and walked out of the room. He was about to ask if she was sure she was alright when the door closed. 'That's not normal.' he thought. He went to his desk and tapped on the comm.
“Medical – this is Travellor.”
“Hello Commander,” came the reply, “this is Doctor Blin.”
“Oh good. I'm glad you're there doctor. Would you please have a look at Mersuul. I'm not sure she is well.”
“Why is that Commander?”
“Something strange just happened. We were talking, and her hair rapidly changed colors, and then she just walked away like she was in shock.”
“What were you talking about?”
“We were sort of having an argument. Well a one sided argument. And I told her about my feelings for her, and then it was like someone turned off a switch. Then her hair turned into a rainbow...”
Travellor stopped talking when he heard laughter coming over the comm.
“What's so funny doctor?”
“I am sending you some files on Ganaphe' physiology Commander. Look under the section on Emotional Responses of Reproductive Age Females. You will find the answer to your confusion there.” she said, continuing to laugh. “After you have read that, if you still have more questions you should talk to Mersuul. Have a nice afternoon.”
The comm went silent, and the promised files showed up on the computer screen. Travellor opened the first one and began reading.
5
June 11, 2013
Doctor Toisae-sil-Blin sat in surprise as she looked at the medical file on her screen. How long had it been now – over three decitans at least. She quickly read the reports of the monthly exams, and nodded to herself in agreement with the conclusions of the doctors and other specialists that wrote them. It wasn't surprising that it had taken this long – in fact everything she read showed an exceptional rate of progress. Considering the patient's initial condition, four to seven decitans would not have been unexpected. Toisae could remember her face clearly – what it had looked like when they operated on her that is. Two medical teams had operated in rotation on Dolores del Rio, for over eighteen heelas, repairing damaged bones, organs, and blood vessels. When del Rio was taken off of the shuttle that recovered her from space, Toisae thought her chance for survival was extremely small. Every one did. The only way to describe her condition was to say that her body had been ruptured. So many things were damaged, torn apart, leaking, swollen, bleeding,... she coul
d go on for some time with descriptions of del Rio's injuries. Ruptured! That seemed to be the appropriate word.
During the operation she had kept wondering not if del Rio would live, but when she would die. There wasn't one area of her body that didn't have something damaged. She had been brought into the operating room just a hair's width on this side of being alive. Some organs had to be completely regenerated, as did sections of the skeleton where the bone had been fractured into pieces so small there was no way for them to re-establish a cohesive structure. Microscopic blood vessels had to be repaired or rebuilt – that was the most time consuming, even with the medical computer performing the process. It all took time to do, and time had been working against del Rio's survival. Several times, while Toisae was resting as others continued working, she had shed tears for the injured woman floating in the operating chamber, already accepting that she would die. Just thinking about it now almost brought another tear. But against all those odds, slowly as they worked they could see the black and purple extremities turn to a more promising red tone. Slowly, one by one as they repaired the organs, the body chemistry became more normal as the waste of undetected damaged cells began to be processed by those repaired organs. As body part after body part became functional del Rio began to look almost human.
