Dark Moon Rising

by Michael E. Gonzales

  The Unborn Galaxy

  Book One

  Dark Moon Rising

  Michael E. Gonzales

  The Unborn Galaxy: Book One

  Dark Moon Rising by Michael E. Gonzales

  Copyright© 2016 Michael E. Gonzales

  Sundown Press

  www.sundownpress.com

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Chapter 1

  The dream of a permanent human presence on the Moon had at long last come to fruition. It had started slowly, with temporary habitats to house the engineers and construction workers. Eventually, it grew into fifty-one reinforced domes. Now the finishing touches were being applied to a massive, new single structure which would more than double the bases size and provide its inhabitants with greatly enhanced facilities for their various researches, plus better living conditions, and vastly improved entertainments. The base's designation was the "Joint International Lunar Laboratory", affectionately referred to as "JILL."

  Teams of scientists from all over the world were intermittently rotated up to JILL to conduct various experiments or to be a part of the ongoing lunar explorations. The length of their stay was determined by the importance of their research project, and of course its cash value to International Interplanetary Exploration Agency.

  The time had at last come for a new team of scientists to begin their training in order for them to join the hundreds of their colleagues already on JILL. The scientists, from the various parts of the globe, gathered at the IIEA training center in Houston, Texas, a facility the IIEA shared with NASA.

  This new team seemed more like a group of school children going on a field trip to a candy factory. Not only were they eager to complete their research in their various fields, but flying into space and living on the Moon was the culmination of their childhood dreams!

  Dr. Mary Eddington, along with three other members of her team, were seated together in a large theatre for orientation. Five other teams were also participating in the briefing.

  Afterward, they retired to a large hall for a bit of socialization—their first opportunity to meet and greet one another.

  Mary glanced around at the other scientists in the room. It was odd how a social situation such as this could still bring butterflies to her stomach, when a trip to the Moon didn't seem to have that effect on her. But at the age of thirty, she didn't expect, nor desire, that to change. A lifetime of growing up with her nose in a book, pressuring herself to achieve the high standards she'd set for herself, and breaking the glass ceiling in her beloved profession had left her social skills sadly lacking. These social situations terrified her. But, it was time to come to grips with that fear. She'd be spending roughly the next two years with these people—training for four months in Houston, then on the Moon for the next eighteen months until the next group arrived.

  She'd seen the roster; she recognized the names, but did not know any of them personally.

  Standing near the wall with a merlot in her hand, she spied a gentleman across the room. That has to be Dr. Sharma, she thought. His reputation was unparalleled. Tentatively, she crossed the room toward him, and he smiled at her. "Excuse me, but you're Dr. Balaji Manohar Sharma, are you not?"

  "Indeed, I am he. But please, do me the great honor of calling me Balaji." The doctor spoke excellent and concise English, but nonetheless spoke it with a pronounced Indian accent. "By your gender, I assume you to be Dr. Eddington?"

  "Mary, please. I read your paper on the extraction of oxygen from lunar regolith. That was impressive. Your system is now in place on JILL."

  "Thank you. Had not the IIEA seen the possibilities, I fear my government would have ignored me."

  "I doubt that. You have advanced degrees in mechanical engineering, biology, and chemistry. You were a child prodigy. The Indian government sent you to the best schools in the UK and the US. You were how old—twenty?—when you discovered that process to extract oxygen out of Moon rocks?"

  "Twenty-four. I spent the next fifteen years perfecting the process," Balaji said.

  "Your going to the Moon was assured."

  "Mary, I have learned that nothing in this life is assured."

  She smiled. "Do you know any of the other members of our team?"

  "Oh, yes. That tall gentleman over there is Dr. Stanley Whitmore, our team leader. I have worked with him on occasion. He has been to the Moon twice before, as both a project coordinator and as a team leader."

  "That explains his age," Mary commented.

  "At forty-eight, he is the oldest member of any of the teams here. He is the director of the Institute of Lunar Studies in Paris. His credentials are impeccable, and he is quite influential.

  "You see the tall meek fellow standing behind Dr. Whitmore in his shadow? That is his assistant Dr. Bob Muller, a very competent physicist, also out of the ILS.

  "Away from Dr. Whitmore, Bob is a nice enough fellow, but be warned—he keeps no secrets from Dr. Whitmore. You cannot take him into your confidence.

  "And by the way, you'll see when you meet him, Bob has a decidedly large gap in his front top incisors, one of those things that the eye is forced to focus on. Do not stare at it. He is very thin-skinned."

  "Noted," Mary acknowledged.

  "And then, there is you, Dr. Mary Eddington—a respected astrophysicist, lunar geologist, and a tenured professor on the faculty of the University of Colorado. You have advised and assisted NASA on several occasions. So impressed are they with you, that you were specifically requested for this assignment."

  "You've done your homework," Mary responded coyly.

  Balaji smiled. "Mary, I was a child prodigy, remember? All I ever do is homework."

  "Seems you'll not get a break from homework here," Mary said.

  "True enough. Our first class is tomorrow morning at 07:00 and classes are scheduled through 17:30."

  "Well, Balaji, 07:00 comes very early," Mary stated. "If you'll excuse me, I'll retire for the night to be fresh as a daisy in the morning."

  "A wise decision. Good night, Mary."

  ****

  Mary found the training tedious. She understood its necessity, but she was almost giddy at the prospect of researching the Moon on the Moon, and her anticipation mounted daily.

  NASA's training provided the team with the knowledge to work and live on the airless satellite. In order to live on the base, there were a vast number of systems to become familiar with, and a like number with which to become aware. Each member was provided with a Libris E-reader programmed with all the materials they would need so that long after the intense training they could continue to educate themselves.

  At last, the day was at hand. The initial lift into space was provided by a private contractor, Galactic, Inc. Their spacecraft was not dissimilar in appearance to the new space shuttle. It was longer, more streamlined. The main difference was the method by which it reached space. Galactic's craft was carried by a very powerful aircraft to a high altitude, and then released. At that point, the shuttle's rocket motors ignited and punched it into orbit.

  Almost three hours after the launch, the shuttle docked with the New International Space Station, a sprawling collection of spheres, cylinders, and solar collection panels.

  The stop at the NISS was merely a simple layover, their equipment and baggage was loaded into the Lunar Transport Ship Tyco, and the team was off again in very short order.

 
Mary opened her Libris to read with interest about the presence of advanced artificially intelligent robotic entities servicing JILL. They were simply referred to as “robots.” There were two types it seemed, one of which looked like a robot, a short cylinder with a dozen arms that rolled about on wheels. The other had the appearance of a human being, a head, two arms and two legs.

  "Now, this is the future I was looking forward to as a child!" she said aloud to herself, eager to see one of these technological marvels.

  "What's that?" Balaji asked, sliding into the seat beside her.

  Mary flushed and smiled. "These robots. What other thirty-year-old woman would be getting all excited about robots?"

  "Any with an active imagination." Balaji had no more spoken these words than he began to blush furiously. "P-please accept my most ab-abject apologies," he said, stammering slightly. "I failed to consider how that might be perceived, I did not mean to imply—"

  "Balaji, it's okay, I understood your intent. And yes, my imagination sees these machines on the surface of the Moon unencumbered by space suits, able to—"

  "Mary, now I must interrupt you. You are not going to encounter machines, but cybernetic arthropods with the latest generation of…of…we'll call it artificial intelligence. I was part of the prototype program, so I know from which I speak when I say, I think you will be truly amazed."

  “I hope so, Balaji; after all, we’re headed to JILL. I expect to be amazed at every turn!” Mary smiled, and Balaji excused himself to have a word with Dr. Whitmore.

  Mary looked about at the several other passengers aboard the Tyco making the trip to the Moon. Among them, and seated in the rear, she noticed a man in a dark suit. He sported a shaved head and wore sunglasses. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He avoided eye contact with everyone, turning to look out the view port instead. He spoke to no one the entire trip, nor did he sleep. Mary thought his attempt at anonymity made him rather obvious.

  The flight to the Moon took twenty-seven hours. When she wasn't sleeping, Mary read from her Libris pad, or took in a movie. At one point, Dr. Whitmore struck up a protracted conversation with her in which she very quickly regretted becoming embroiled. She had become aware on their first meeting that the good doctor was a chauvinist, and an egotist. Whenever Mary grew angry, her face betrayed her. At those moments, after saying something that Mary regarded as more than just aggravating, Dr. Whitmore always laughed. Mary knew he was one of those people who think a laugh can mitigate an inane comment. Thankfully, after several minutes, Balaji smoothly intervened.

  Otherwise, the journey was quite comfortable, if somewhat tedious. On Earth, rapid transport around the planet had become commonplace, so twenty-seven hours seemed a very long time, indeed.

  Approaching the Moon, all could see Mare Insularum, the name meaning the "sea of islands”, an area of approximately 900 kilometers in diameter. The Mare was located less than 300 kilometers north of the crater Fra Mauro, the site of the 1971 Apollo 14 landing.

  Here the massive base had been constructed. It was west of the great crater Copernicus, about half way to Kepler, and just above Hortensius. A rather interesting feature not far away was the one hundred-kilometer-long fissure, Rima Milichius.

  From above, JILL's entire collection of domed structures was visible. They were of various sizes, each dedicated to a different task. Tubes that allowed both foot and motorized traffic to flow between them interconnected all the domes.

  Just a few meters east of the fifty-one original domes stood the latest addition to JILL known as the Barbicane Science Center. This facility was huge, nearly thirty kilometers north to south and forty-three kilometers east to west with a number of secondary structures in proximity. The descendants of the great lunar pioneer Impey Barbicane had been far more than generous in their support of the Joint International Lunar Laboratory.

  The pilot landed the shuttle as lightly as a feather, and soon the mandatory restraint light was extinguished. Upon release from her seat, Mary immediately noticed the low gravity. Thankfully, accommodation was made to assist new residents to the Moon, at least initially. Hand rails were found everywhere as they exited the shuttle and entered the docking facility known as the lunar harbor.

  Inside the tunnel that connected the harbor with the large dome to the north, Mary saw that there were two autoped horizontal escalators, running down the center of the tube, one coming, and the other going. JILL staff members encouraged the new arrivals to walk down the foot paths along the right side in order become more acclimatized to the much lower gravity.

  With her briefcase in her left hand, Mary took hold of the railing on her right and gingerly walked toward the dome ahead. She had not walked ten meters when she encountered the first of several large picture windows built into the sides of the connecting tube. She was looking almost due east out across the lunar landscape. Closest to her was the southwest quadrant of the new BSC; beyond were hills, peaks, craters, and on the horizon, a long, tall cliff that was the mountainous lip of the crater Copernicus.

  But the object that drew Mary's—and everyone's—attention, was in the sky above the cliffs at about forty degrees. The blue-green orb of the Earth with its magnificent continents, vast seas, and white clouds; here was the one seat of all human existence. The tiny, fragile, planet which was the one place in the entire universe known to possess intelligent life—this was home.

  Chapter 2

  Mary stood awestruck as she gazed, wide-eyed, out the window at the breathtaking beauty of the blue and white marble in the lunar sky. Everyone from the shuttle was standing there, profoundly moved by this vision. Except, Mary noted, Drs. Whitmore and Muller. Both of them were already riding the horizontal escalator.

  Mary and her fellow passengers were directed into dome number one, the main administration dome. The grand lobby was a beautiful place, complete with a fountain flowing with virtual water. There were wonderful works of art: sculptures in both metal and stone—both the metal and the stone had been mined here on the Moon; there were also paintings, murals, and photographs decorating the walls. The floors were clad with beautiful carpets, and chandeliers hung from above. Modern furniture was spaced about, much like a hotel lobby.

  An immaculately attired and manicured gentleman approached the new arrivals. Before he spoke to the assemblage, he greeted Dr. Whitmore with a warm hand shake, and they exchanged a few words. He nodded toward Dr. Muller then turned to the members of the new teams. "Ladies and gentlemen, doctors, I am Marcus Rollow. I insist that you all call me Marcus. In addition to being the assistant administrator under Mr. Peacock, I am a doctor of electrical physics. You will find that most of your colleagues here hold several PhDs, so we have dispensed with titles, for the most part.

  "Now, if you will please follow me to orientation. Your things will be sent to your rooms. Later, I hope you will all join Mr. Peacock and me for dinner."

  ****

  Sergeant Hugh Pacherd, a member of the Lunar Civil Defense Detachment, entered dome one, and glanced over at the new arrivals. The LCDD was a formation of soldiers from the various allied nations that served as JILL's police force. Hugh had been deployed here on the Moon for several years, and he'd seen a great many of these personnel rotations during that time.

  It was Rollow the Sergeant had first noticed when he had entered the grand lobby. The tube he'd come through was opposite and at a considerable distance from where Mr. Rollow addressed the party of newly arrived scientists. The Assistant Administrator was seldom out of his office, but he always made an appearance for the new arrivals.

  As Hugh's eyes scanned the group, he was stopped in his tracks. His lips parted as his jaw dropped. There stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Someone bumped into him. "Sergeant, you're blocking the path."

  "Sorry." Hugh moved quickly behind a statue and continued to watch from a distance. He could only stare. Was it her red hair or the way her glasses framed her blue eyes? Could it be her perfect posture or her small and
delicate hands? "Wow," he muttered. I have to meet her.

  He checked his uniform: gig line straight, headgear on correctly, and boots gleaming.

  He watched as Mr. Rollow indicated that they should follow, and they all began to walk behind him in a loose gaggle. She had reached down, picked up her briefcase, and started to follow Mr. Rollow. At that moment, Hugh shot out across the busy lobby at a dazzling speed. Crap! I can't run like this in front of everyone! He instantly slowed to a more reasonable speed.

  His rushing at them caused a little alarm among the group. Hugh stopped directly before Dr. Eddington and saluted. "Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm Sergeant Hugh Pacherd of the Lunar Civil Defense Detachment. May I carry your case for you, ma'am?"

  She was obviously embarrassed. She pushed her glasses up and cleared her throat, "Ah, no thank you Colonel—"

  "Sergeant, ma'am. Staff Sergeant Pacherd."

  "Well, ah, Staff Sergeant Pacherd, in this gravity I think I can handle it."

  "Yes, ma'am. If there's anything I can do to assist you at any time for any reason—"

  "Sergeant," Rollow said gruffly. "I think you've bothered Dr. Eddington quite enough."

  "Dr. Eddington," Hugh repeated the name low, and then he saluted and took a step back. He watched as they all walked away. A couple of meters farther, Dr. Eddington looked back at him. He smiled broadly.

  ****

  Mary looked back at Mr. Eager Beaver. The man's dark brown eyes met hers briefly, and something touched her that she very quickly tamped down. She'd never had a man almost literally throw himself at her feet as this guy had just done.

  He was in remarkable physical condition, she thought, her gaze straying to his muscled arms and shoulders. Although he was of average height, his physical conditioning made him appear anything but average.

  Mary was more than happy that the welcome orientation took only half an hour. She was tired from the long trip, made even more exhausting by the obvious flirtations from Dr. Whitmore, the man who was her team leader.