Mission: Lights of Langrenus

by V. A. Jeffrey

  “Hullo, Bob!” He actually sounded a little more cheery than usual. Chip must have adjusted his emotion-sensory chip. Or perhaps he was picking up on the feelings and emotions around him. In his first incarnation he was rather good at picking up on those things. It was nice to see. My old friend was coming back.

  “Hello Will. I called because I need some help.”

  “How can I help you?”

  “I was watching the display of lunar light here at the big crater. The Transient Lunar Phenomenon. Have you or Chip heard anything about it on the news?”

  “I don't know if Chip has. I saw a local interest piece on the WSEL news feed about a maintenance worker who just came down, Earthside. He was visiting the moon on vacation and he took pictures of it. It was quite a brilliant display of light. It seemed a little unusual given what is known about such lunar light displays. But that was all I have heard or seen about the matter on the mainstream outlets.”

  “Huh. I'm asking because I talked with a courtesy mech about whether it noticed any odd circumstances surrounding the lights here. He mentioned that there were sudden, odd radiation spikes in the certain parts of the city and that they were affecting equipment, computers and the like.”

  “Did the mech mentioned whether these spikes coincided with the lunar light displays?”

  “I believe he did.”

  “That would be important to know. There may be some correlation.”

  “I need you to look up some information for me, Will.”

  “Yes, Bob.”

  “Find anything on earlier displays of TLP recorded in history, any little bit of information, official and unofficial.”

  “I can do that right now while we're online.” Will went silent as he looked up the information. This mystery was becoming more and more intriguing. I thought of having room service called to speak to Archibald again when Will finally came back after a few minutes of browsing and searching through the data.

  “I don't know how comprehensive you want this to be but here is what I've got. There are accounts of transient lunar phenomenon that go back in history on Earth for at least one thousand years. These reports were not reproducible, until now. From MoonLore-net: In 1178 monks from Canterbury, England reported a strange sight. There was a bright new moon, and as usual in that phase its so-called horns were tilted eastward. Suddenly, the upper horn split in two. From the midpoint of this division a flaming torch sprang up, spewing out, over a considerable distance with what looked to the monks like fire, hot coals, and sparks. Meanwhile, the body of the moon, writhed, as it were, in anxiety, and, to the monks' eyes the moon throbbed like a wounded snake. Then it returned to its normal state. According to the monks, this phenomenon was repeated over a dozen times, the flame assuming various twisting shapes at random and then returning to normal. Then after these transformations the moon, from horn to horn, that is along its whole length, took on a blackish appearance. Next, During the night of April 19, 1787, the British astronomer Sir William Herschel noticed three red glowing spots on the dark part of the Moon. Then, In 1866, experienced lunar observer and mapmaker J. F. Julius Schmidt said that the Linne Crater had changed its appearance. Also, there were sightings in Russia in 1958, also in the USA in October of 1963, in France in November of 1963. Astronomers in West Germany in 1969 witnessed a bright glow on the lunar surface. They alerted the Apollo mission of this and asked them to observe the phenomenon once they arrived at the moon, to observe especially the Aristarchus Crater. The astronauts did observe this light phenomenon, saying that there's an area that is considerably more illuminated than the surrounding area. They said that it seemed to have a slight amount of fluorescence. There was a sighting in 1992 at the Langrenus Crater as well. Again, large red and orange spots of light were observed there. This is just a cursory search, Bob.”

  “This is all very fascinating. Go on, please.”

  “One account that was even more unusual than the rest was recorded in the US in the state of Kansas. A farmer in 2020 saw an unusually large and bright display of green light on the moon. It was so huge he thought that something very large, like a ship perhaps, or a comet had landed on the moon. It caused a brief stir among the SETI investigators but the furor died down and nothing more was heard about it. There was another one sighted in South Korea in 2095. The northern hemisphere of the moon lit up with red and violet serpentine columns of light for about twelve hours before finally dying down.”

  “I've never come across those last two accounts before. I remember looking up information about it after my first trip back from Langrenus. That and a few other accounts sound new to me.”

  “That's because the more recent accounts of TLP I've gathered from unofficial sources that have been vetted by the #strange-spacephenom/ sub-forum group on Dappa.”

  “Ah! You know what? I wish there was some way I could have your eyes and ears here with me, Will. I'm no good at spying but something odd is going on around here. I can feel it under the surface.”

  “That sixth sense, as you call it?”

  “You might call it that. I have a little standard issue recording mech with me. Sent by the Big Boss.”

  “If it was sent by him, it's likely that it isn't standard issue. In any case, I may be able to become your eyes and ears from a remote location.”

  “I thought as much. Tell me how.”

  “Your recording mech. Look for its serial numbers if you can, and tell me what they are. Its serial numbers and also its identifier code. I might be able to use it remotely to look for odd things where you can't, or hear and record things you can't. I can then download them from the mech itself to Chip's hard drives down here. The distance will mean the information I can download here will take a while to get here, but I'm sure I can arrange a set up so that we can work together, Bob.” I felt waves of euphoria wash through me. It was good to have him back in business.

  “Will do! No pun intended!” I gave a command to the little recorder mech and it came to me. I shut it off and turned it over and read both its serial number and ID code to Will, who did something on his end. After about ten minutes he told me things should work.

  “Turn it on. Let me see if this works properly,” he said. I did so. The mech lifted itself from my hands and bobbed up and down gently, flying slowly through the suite.

  “Yes. I can see through it. Say something, Bob. Or turn on some music and mute your computer console.” I did that, turning on one of my favorite online music stations. Smooth jazz-something. I forget.

  “I can hear it too, though a bit tinny,” he said.

  “Looks like we've got ourselves a great set up!”

  “I would agree, Bob.”

  “Now, let's hope I don't screw it up!”

  “Indeed.”

  . . .

  I asked the Virtual Voice to send for Archibald. Archibald dutifully came.

  “Yes sir? I trust your stay has been pleasant so far?”

  “Oh yes. Very nice. Been enjoying the lights and relaxing.”

  “Excellent. How may I help you?”

  “I wouldn't mind having tonight's dinner brought to my suite.”

  “Would you like to hear the menu, sir?”

  “I would.” Since I didn't have to pay for any of this I was going to have myself a fabulous dinner and a bottle one of their fine bourbons from the expensive and excellent Whisky Bar. But that was merely a pretext. The mech rattled off eloquently the menu of panko-encrusted sea anemone in cilantro lime cream sauce, lobster tails with lemon butter sauce, dill potato salad, kale cream puree with a rose wine and crème brulee for dessert. To which I said yes to all.

  “Archibald. I have a question before you leave.”

  “Yes sir?”

  “About the TLP and radiation. Where is this radiation mostly located at?” He seemed to tilt his head to one side, thinking.

  “Around the mining operations and mills on the moon, sir.”

  “And have you or anyone else noticed that the s
pikes of radiation always coincide with the unusual amounts of lunar light from the craters?”

  “I am not sure if they coincide always, sir. I do not really know much about it other than what I have already said. But perhaps you can ask someone that works at the Herbert Genetic Science Laboratory. Or the Banks Astronomy Observatory. One year ago I saw an information bulletin at the last place I worked, the Starburst Hotel, east of the city center, that said that any mine workers who were experiencing health problems that they thought might be work related were encouraged to contact a special number. This bulletin came from the medical center on Atticus Station.”

  “Really? Is it still up? Can I find it here?”

  “Oh no. I only remember seeing it a few times. I never bothered to record it in my logs.”

  “What's the Starburst Hotel?” I asked.

  “The Starburst Hotel was a large hub for mine workers coming in, contracted from Earth to work in the western mines. They stayed there on extended periods of time for their work. It was not what one would call, at that time, luxurious or plush. Rather plain, dingy and very cheap. What we call in the business, a working hotel. Not one for leisure. It is now going through a large remodel and will be reopening in six months' time for a better class of visitors. Anyway, the bulletin did not stay up long. Only a few days. I did not pay too much heed to it as it was not my business. I suppose whatever issue arose was taken care of. Both scientific laboratories are not far from here. In fact, the observatory is only about a twenty minute ride from the city center. All of the astronomers work there. They most likely would have the information you seek.” Curiouser and curiouser.

  “Thank you very much, Archibald.”

  “Will there be anything else?” The mech asked solicitously.

  “No, thank you.”

  “You're welcome, sir. Dinner shall be served in one hour.”

  Later, as I sat eating my fancy and delicious dinner, I glanced over at the recording mech.

  “It's time to put you to work, Will.” The mech bobbed up and down quickly as if in response.

  “Go and find the observatory and eavesdrop. You're good at that. Record anything about anyone talking or mentioning the TLP, mines, the craters or lunar lights in general. Anything, no matter how inconsequential. Any conversation that centers on or even just touches on the issue, I want the information recorded and sent back. Got it?” The mech beeped as if to say yes and I opened the doors and it flew out on its way, having its own internal GPS system on board. I drank the last of the wine, fingered my bottle of bourbon before carefully putting it away and wondered at what I was getting myself into.

  6

  After dinner I did some cursory research and found a few names of popular scientists that worked at the observatory. I sent off a query about the unusual growth in the lunar phenomenon. I had no idea if there would even be a response. What would I do next if this didn't work? I had no clue but I had to think of something. I dashed off a log note about my activities for the day and what I'd been doing and who I'd been contacting, then I sent a note to my wife and kids with a description of the lunar lights. I didn't send the pictures. I didn't think it appropriate since I was conducting an investigation into the matter.

  I went to bed that night thinking hard about what my next move would be if my current fishing plans turned up nothing. As it turned out, I had nothing to worry over on that front.

  The next morning I showered, brushed my teeth and dressed and I was on my way to a restaurant for breakfast when my bell buzzed. I commanded the doors to open and they slid open with a whisper. In bobbed the recorder mech lit up with lights and buzzing.

  “You must have found something then!” Feeling excitement grow in me I took its recording disk from a thin slot in its underside and slid it into the disk reader in the computer and got to work. I'd received no answers by text mail or intercom. And hadn't expected to. I ran through the sound files recorded. There were three files. One in particular was marked digitally in red by the mech. I opened that file immediately and began listening to it. As opposed to the other two which were eight and seven hours, respectively, this one was only five hours. I opened it and began listening; listening for interesting snatches of conversation, clues as to what my be the cause of the light activity and radiation. It had recorded human and mech communications.

  “Virtual Voice, I want my breakfast brought up to my room this morning.”

  “Would you like the general menu or are you making a specific meal request?” Asked the Virtual Voice.

  “A specific meal request, please.”

  “Please state your request.” I had breakfast brought up to my room as I settled in to the work. I was munching on toasted brioche and a soft egg yolk under melted Emmentaler with coffee and cream, going through this for three hours when I caught something interesting, yet fleeting. I stopped it and rewound it to listen again. After about eight times I figured out that I was listening to a very young man. It sounded like a meeting or conference of some sort and the people were arguing behind closed doors. Most of the talk was difficult to make out but I know I'd heard the letters TLP, numerous times. The video showed the hallways and corridors that the mech crept around in the observatory:

  “Peter, we've been through this many times! There's nothing so out of the ordinary that anyone should be worried.”

  “Yes. In the past witnesses observed it from Earth which gave those so-called accounts a very skewed view of things. Now that we actually live on the moon we can see that it is quite a bit more active than people had previously thought.”

  “And the radiation problems? You don't see anything out of the ordinary about that?”

  “It's not as if we don't view radiation as serious but for one, it's not within our purview and secondly, the radiation issue and consequent health issues surrounding it are very common in the mining industry. It's not the general lunar population that is having problems. It's the lunar mining community and steps have been taken to help them. They even have a special medical center, just for them on Atticus. This issue goes back for centuries. It's not out of the ordinary,” said a female scientist.

  “I can't believe this! What's wrong with you all?” The young man cried plaintively.

  “Nothing! The only thing wrong here is your insistence on assigning more importance to the phenomenon than is necessary. I for one, have far better things to do with my time than listening to emotional outbursts. If you'll excuse me,” said an older male scientist gruffly. He had many of the others concurring with him.

  “Peter. You really should leave give it a rest. Your suspicions hold no weight. There's nothing serious or more important other than the lights are more beautiful. What issues they face is the business of the medical and business communities. Not ours. We have more important things to do around here and I would remind you that you are here on a full scholarship. Your work is promising and you can have a great career here. Don't blow it with this nonsense. You are putting your reputation and your future at risk,” said the woman. Footsteps were heard and then the mech flew away quickly before the door opened and the video and audio was cut off.

  I sat back, letting it sink in. So someone there thought that there was something to this too.

  “Hmm.” I munched on my last bit of toast and pushed my plate away. It was time to go on a fact-finding mission.

  . . .

  I learned by reading the leader-board news bulletin screen in the lobby that there would be a special talk and the Langrenus community was invited to that talk. It would be at the Banks Astronomy Observatory about the lunar lights, to “clear up” confusion and “for fun and learning about our universe and our destined place in it.” Huh. I've heard that phrasing before, too many times. I held in my mind one name: Peter.

  I suited up and took a passenger freighter to the observatory. Most residents of the towers were either going to work or coming from work. There were a few white collar residents on the passenger freighter but most of t
he passengers looked like blue collar workers, specifically miners, and they worked the swing shift. They were headed to a mine west of the city. Their talk was not of any sort of lunar lights and I was starting to wonder if my mission as a silly one, considering what was going on in other parts of this solar system. The workers on the freighter seemed worried about something far worse.

  “Where's Phil at? Ain't seen him in a long while. He went back to visit his folks or somethin'?”

  “Nah. Phil's still sick.”

  “He's still out?”

  “Yup. Had a relapse.”

  “That's too bad. When's he coming back? You know?” Asked a third man.

  “I don't know. I saw him in the hospital the other day. It was bad. Sores everywhere, like terrible burns. They also found it. You know. All through his lungs,” said a fourth man.

  “And you know they said that they took care of it the first time he went in to the medical center,” said the third man.

  “Yeah well, they say all kinds of things to keep people from walking off the job. They don't have the facilities to take care of his condition down there at Atticus. He's too advanced. He was transferred to the hospital on Remus Station, back when I went to see him,” said the second man.

  “That bad, huh? You know, they don't do nothing right down there. They said that they'd give us the RALCC cocktail before we started our work assignments and look what happened to that? Still, we haven't gotten it,” said the first man.