Dark Moon Rising

by Michael E. Gonzales

  Back at her desk, he removed a pair of scissors from her drawer and began to cut the colored paper. With the pieces, he started twisting, bending, and molding until, in a very few minutes, he had produced a Rosa berberifolia, a red rose. He placed it on her desk near her cup. He sat in her chair a moment, staring at the rose.

  Perhaps her finding this here in the morning might add to her fear of him, he thought. He picked up his flashlight and stood. He gently retrieved the beautiful work of his hands; he moved slowly across the room and dropped it into a waste bin.

  He stood looking down at it when a light caught his eye. Out in the hall, through the large glass panels he could see someone wielding a flashlight about, seemingly looking for something. Silently, leaving his light off, Hugh moved to the hall, and crept toward the unknown person whose back was to him. When he was within a few meters, he asked in a firm authoritative voice, "Who goes there?"

  Chapter 5

  On hearing Hugh's challenge, the figure stopped and spun about, lowering his flashlight as Hugh switched his on, and shone it directly into the eyes of his subject.

  "Soldier, I'd appreciate it if you would remove that damned light from my eyes."

  Hugh lowered his light just enough. He did not recognize this man at all. In fact, he could not remember meeting anyone on the base who shaved his head.

  "I'll need to see some identification, sir."

  The man reached behind himself as if to bring forth a wallet.

  "Sir, move very slowly."

  "So, you're armed?" the man asked.

  "Your identification, sir."

  The man produced a very thin wallet, and removed a card.

  "Lay it on the floor and back away, please."

  Hugh advanced and picked up the card. It was a US government ID card. The Department of Health. Mr. Joseph Smith, Water Purification Specialist.

  "Mr. Smith, this seems an odd hour to be looking for stagnant water," Hugh admonished, being facetious.

  "I find I can get a lot more accomplished when the halls are not full of curious people. No crowds, no questions. A rumor of contaminated water up here would be a very bad thing."

  "I was not briefed that you would be operating in my patrol area."

  "No surprise there. I never know exactly where my search will take me."

  "You're new here, I take it?" Hugh asked.

  "I arrived here with that last passenger shuttle."

  "Please wait right where you are, Mr. Smith," Hugh reached up and tapped his temple.

  "Watch commander this is patrol number seven, over."

  "Hugh, this is Mitchel, go."

  "Dave, I have a Mr. Joseph Smith here. His ID reads US Department of Health, service number 77 25 37. Says he arrived on the last shuttle. Can you confirm, over."

  "Hey, soldier," Mr. Smith asked, "my service number doesn't appear on that card, it's encrypted in the bar code on the back. How do you know it?"

  Hugh's COMde cracked to life again. "Hugh, he's legit. His ID has been confirmed by the State Department, over."

  "Thank you, Dave. Out."

  "I take it you're happy now, eh, soldier?"

  "Not entirely, no. Why would you be confirmed by the State Department?"

  "What's your name, soldier?"

  "Staff Sergeant Hugh Pacherd. Service number Alpha India 73 658."

  "Well, Staff Sergeant, you're doing a fine job here. Keep up the good work." With that, Smith grabbed his card, turned his light off, and walked away.

  ****

  The next morning, the team arrived on time, as always. Mary went straight to her desk, grabbed her cup, and made for the coffee machine. Upon her return, as she was about to sit, she noticed several small pieces of cut up red and green paper under her desk. She picked them up, examining them but a moment before throwing them away.

  They were all just about settled into their morning routines when Mary noticed Ms. Martha Sandling, Stan's secretary, come in to fetch a coffee for him. Mary watched as Martha waited in line. She felt sorry for the woman. Martha couldn't have been more than forty years of age, but she already had some gray in her hair, which she was apparently proud of as she made no attempt to cover it. It was well known she was a widow. She had been Stan's personal secretary for almost twelve years. How has she managed to put up with that egotist? Mary wondered.

  As these thoughts spun through Mary's head, she saw Martha reach into a dust bin, when she came up with a rose in her hand, Mary froze.

  Martha turned to the others in the line, and before long, several people had crowded about her to glimpse what Mary knew was a beautiful paper rose. Martha began to flit through the room showing off her discovery from desk to desk and asking who made it. Next, she showed her prize to Balaji and was quite surprised when, on seeing it, he leapt to his feet. "Martha, give it to me, please."

  She reluctantly handed over the delicate thing, and Balaji walked away with it, leaving a stunned Martha and her entourage behind. He walked directly up to Mary's desk. As he approached, Mary held her breath.

  Without a word, Balaji laid the flower on her desk in front of her. Her eyes grew large and her lips parted.

  She gently cupped the ornament in the palms of her hands. It was beautiful and entirely made of paper. The detail was incredible. There were the sepals and petals, and the thorns. Inside she could just make out the pistil and the stamens. It was absolutely amazing!

  "It was in the trash bin, Mary," Balaji said.

  Mary said nothing.

  Martha walked up and held out her hand. "May I have my flower back, now?"

  "Ah…yeah…yes, here." Mary handed it to Martha then slowly looked up at Balaji. "He was in here," she whispered.

  "Yes. Last night, I'm sure," Balaji suggested.

  "It was beautiful. Must have taken him hours. Why would he throw it away?"

  "Only one reason, Mary. He changed his mind."

  "But...why?"

  "What was the kindest thing you ever said to him?"

  "Just...thank you."

  "Weigh that against all else you have said to him. And Mary, tell me, what is his name?"

  Mary knew very well what his name was. She'd been trying to forget it ever since he had introduced himself to her. But she couldn't let Balaji know how Hugh had affected her when she was still trying to deny it to herself.

  "Ah, Hubert?"

  Balaji gave her a faint, knowing smile. "I must go back to work now Mary."

  ****

  A few days later, Mary and Balaji were again enjoying one of their nightly walks. A co-worker had suggested to Mary that she visit an observation area at dome six. It was farther than they usually walked, so they took a jeep. Standing in the center of the transparent half-dome attached to the side of six, and looking forty degrees up into the eastern sky, they beheld the beautiful blue orb of the Earth.

  "Jane from team seven tells me you can monitor Earth's changing phases every twenty-nine-and-a-half days," Mary said.

  Balaji nodded. "One lunar day you mean," he corrected. "Our definitions of time take on new meaning up here when you look out of a window."

  "I hadn't stopped to think of it like that."

  They stood in silence a moment before Balaji took a deep breath and said, "A memorable sight if ever one was presented to human eyes."

  "Balaji, you haven't told me about your family." She smiled at him, and then sat on a nearby bench. "That's one thing that's not well-covered in your biography."

  Balaji sat beside her.

  "My wife's Hindi name is Chandrakanta. Our English speaking friends call her Sandra. Her name means 'Beloved by the Moon'. Now, when I speak to her from here, I call her Beloved from the Moon."

  "Ah, that is so sweet. All the best men are taken."

  "I do not believe this is so, and neither do you. You have given up the search before you have taken even the first step."

  "It's a big step, and one that will take me off my career path. Veer off the path, and you might become
lost."

  "Do you fear the road less traveled?"

  "You're trying to bring the conversation around to Hugh, aren't you?"

  "I see you remembered his name!"

  "Yes," she said slowly, "I remember his name."

  "Mary, I know his paper flowers touched you. I know you were devastated at the thought that he threw the rose he had made just for you into the dust bin."

  "Okay, Balaji, I was touched. It was sweet. He has a crush on me, I get it, but it doesn’t change the fact that I have a specific future mapped out. I have made and executed plans all my life with a goal in mind. I have sacrificed a great deal to be where I am. I have two PhD's, I'm respected by the scientific community worldwide, and at the recommendation of the director of NASA himself I am doing research on the surface of the Moon."

  "Yes, indeed. You certainly have something to tell your grandchildren."

  "I told you, I made sacrifices."

  "You did. Mary, we are greatly different people. Were I offered worldwide acclaim, stations on the Moon or even Mars, and the opportunity of extraordinary wealth, but told that in exchange I would have to forego ever knowing love, I would walk—no, I would run away.

  "Ours was an arranged marriage between Chandrakanta's family and mine. This is an honored tradition in my country. We had been friends since we were small children. Then, at a very early age, we were wed. One day, I cannot tell you how long we had been married when it happened, but enlightenment came over me, like dawn spreading its light and warmth over the world. Like the awakening of spring after a long winter; our love is, to us, the foundation of our world.

  "Though we are separated now by over three-hundred-eighty-four-thousand kilometers, her love reaches out to me and mine to her. Love spans the universe, Mary. However, it is nonetheless a rare and fragile thing. One never knows how many times it will come in one lifetime. Once, rarely twice, and some poor souls search a lifetime and never find it. But Mary, to never even seek it out, to avoid it, is to me a Homeric tragedy."

  "That was beautifully said, Balaji. The difference is, you already have love, and thus, know what you'd be missing. I have no idea. As long as I remain blissfully ignorant, I will remain happy on the Odyssey I have set for myself."

  "I cannot but feel sorry for you, Mary. You are denying yourself the sweetest fruit in life."

  "It's okay, Balaji. I'm an omnivore."

  "On that note, shall we catch a bite to eat?"

  "All right, but it's my turn to treat."

  ****

  A week later, as Balaji was conducting some very important tests, Bob approached him. "Dr. Whitmore wants to see you," he stated in a timid voice.

  Balaji did not look up from his work. "When?"

  "Ah, he wants to see you now."

  "I'm very busy here, Bob. Tell him I'll be there in half-an-hour."

  "I'm sorry, he said now."

  "Lānata!" Balaji straightened up from the equipment he’d been bent over pulling angrily at his gloves. Bob scurried through the door like a frightened mouse.

  Balaji marched to Stan's door and knocked angrily.

  "Come in, Balaji."

  Balaji threw the door open before Stanley could say another word. "Stanley, I was in the middle of an experiment that will now have to be repeated."

  "Do sit down and calm yourself."

  But Balaji didn't sit down. He wouldn't be there long enough to get comfortable. "What is it you want, Stanley?"

  Stanley sat forward, lacing his fingers atop his desk. "Balaji, you are aware, I take it, that my various responsibilities extend to my people as well as to the mission, and I take my responsibilities very seriously."

  "I, too, am serious about my work."

  "This is a difficult thing for me. I consider myself your friend as well as your superior. As such, I feel we need to have this discussion."

  "You seem determined. Go on, then." There was something going on here. Balaji could tell it was some matter outside the scope of the mission. Stanley was playing one of his games, and Balaji had to know which one.

  "You are a married man, are you not, Balaji?"

  "Yes, and happily so for almost eighteen years." He narrowed his eyes, anger and curiosity warring within him. "Why?"

  "I have received several reports that you are seeing Dr. Eddington after hours."

  "Yes, Stanley," Balaji said with forced calm.

  "You do not deny it, then?"

  "I do not. Will there be anything else?"

  "Indeed there will. Do you think you are conducting yourself as a married man should?"

  Balaji brought himself up to his full height and took a deep breath as he slowly removed his hands from his pockets. Looking down his nose he said slowly, "Stanley, we walk, converse, and take the occasional meal together. What have you heard, and from whom have you heard it?"

  "The question here is your conduct not my sources of information."

  Balaji's hands became fists. He felt his jaw tighten. "This is ridiculous, I am concluding this interrogation."

  Balaji turned to depart when Stanley added. "It would be a great pity if these reports somehow found their way back to your wife."

  The blood rose to Balaji's temples and throbbed. He stopped, turned, and in a single bound was at the edge of Stanley's desk, leaning across it. "Stanley," he said, exhibiting profound self-control, "you do as you like. You see, my wife and I have known one another since we were five years old. This means she knows me better than does any living human being. She will not believe your lies. Now, let me ask a question of you. Why? Why have you set your poor little hedgehog Muller to follow us? What threat do we pose to you?"

  "You threaten my reputation, Balaji. I will not have the adolescent, perhaps even adulterous, behavior you two seem to be engaged in impugn my reputation as a leader."

  "Your reputation as a—" Balaji stood up and back from Stanley's desk. "Bring your charges against me, Stanley, and I will sue you for slander. I will happily defend myself next to you—back on Earth.

  "One additional thing, Stanley. I am not fooled. I know you desire Mary for yourself. This little chat was designed to remove any competition from the pitch. You have missed your mark, Stanley. There is a serious challenger out there, but it is not I."

  The look on Stanley's face betrayed his emotions, his fear, and concern. "Balaji, I trust our conversation will be treated with discretion."

  "Your trust is misplaced. Good day."

  Chapter 6

  At breakfast the next morning, Balaji and Mary were sitting in the cafeteria, he with tea, and she with her coffee.

  Balaji told Mary of his encounter with Stanley, omitting his comments that referenced Hugh. She was incredulous. "Why that son-of-a—What nerve! Balaji, you said he had political connections. Could he—"

  "Do not worry. There is little he can do." He was not sure this was true.

  "Perhaps we should cease our walks?" Mary suggested.

  "What? And hand him a victory? Never!"

  Just then, the dome moved and everyone fell silent. Next, there came a rumbling and low vibration. This lasted several minutes, and then just faded away. As it did, the normal noise of the cafeteria resumed.

  "What was that?" Balaji asked of Mary.

  Behind her, a gentleman turned to face them, "First Moon quake? We experience them frequently, particularly just after sunrise when the Moon around us starts to thaw. Wait until you've experience your first swarm! Whoa, now that's a ride!"

  "Thank you," Mary said, and turned back around.

  "I am, of course, aware of lunar quakes—but that was startling," Balaji stated.

  "For our first experience, that was a blessing," Mary replied. "They can reach five on the Richter scale and last as long as ten minutes."

  "I hope we don't have to live through too many of those."

  Mary opened her laptop and did a quick search. "It says here that JILL has recorded six hundred to three thousand quakes a year since its establishment, ave
raging 2.2 on the Richter scale."

  "Oh, joy. Something else to look forward to."

  Balaji caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. A security camera had turned to look right at the two of them. Then to his left, another of the small spheres rotated to point its eye at them. Balaji suspected who was watching. He remained silent.

  After breakfast, Balaji told Mary to go on ahead, that he had business to attend. After he watched her leave the cafeteria, he sought out a soldier. There seemed to always be one close at hand, and indeed, he found a young officer having coffee near the staff entrance to the kitchen. "I beg your pardon, Lieutenant, I am Dr. Sharma. Would it be possible to have you ask Staff Sergeant Pacherd to meet me here?"

  "One moment sir, I'll check." He tapped the chip in his temple to activate his COMde. "He'll be right here, sir."

  "Thank you."

  Within minutes, Hugh walked through the doors. He saluted and said, "You asked to see me, Dr. Sharma?"

  Balaji leaned into him and spoke in a whisper. "Is there a place we can speak in private?"

  Hugh opened the staff entrance and led him in. Just beyond the door, he ushered Balaji into a supply closet.

  "Where have you been, my boy?" Balaji asked, wide-eyed.

  "Waiting for the seed to germinate, like you said."

  "I did not tell you to vanish!"

  "I'm so lost. This 'meeting a girl' stuff is hard." Hugh leaned back and hit his head on a shelf.

  "Hugh, have there been no women in your life?"

  "Ah, well, no, not really."

  "Not really?"

  "Okay, no." Hugh thrust his hands into his pockets. "Not since high school."

  "Oh, my, but you and Mary are a pair."

  "What's the matter?"

  "Nothing. She accidentally discovered your rose."

  "I know. She didn't keep it, either, I heard." He looked down at the floor.

  "This is true, but only because the woman who found it laid claim to it. Mary was touched. She told me so."

  "Wow, really?" Hugh stood taller and removed his hands from his pockets.

  "Oh, yes."

  "I hear you had a problem with Dr. Whitmore. Was that because of me, too?"