The Wall: Eternal Day

by Brandon Q Morris

  “I am trying to save the lives of the last survivors,” Judith said. “And they are currently in danger on the moon. Gontcharov, the commander, told me that one of the two women at the base is in the medical station, and her metabolism has collapsed. One woman less, Mike, for you to be able to build your new civilization.”

  “You don’t have to make fun of me.” They would all see soon enough that his strategy was the only correct one. Somehow, he had to convince them of it, if not with words, then with facts.

  “I’m only trying to convince you.”

  “You don’t need to do that. You’re the boss.”

  “Of course. That’s why I’m deciding that Giordano and François should work together to calculate a new trajectory that takes us as close as possible to the shell. If it can save us at least two days, we’ll do it.”

  February 22, 2035 – Moon Base Unity

  “Here. Eat.” Jonathan slid his still half-full bowl of muesli to Yue’s side. She looked at it blankly.

  “I’m not hungry anymore. You should have it,” she told him. She liked muesli. It had nuts and dried fruit and tasted good, even by Earth standards. “No, thanks, you need the calories just as much as me.”

  He pointed to his stomach. “You see this? I’ve still got reserves. How about you?”

  Yue shook her head. “You’re the doctor. You’re more important here right now than I am.”

  “For me, you are the most important one here.”

  She smiled. “That’s nice, but it doesn’t count.”

  Jonathan sighed. She should eat his muesli. When he got close to her, he could already notice her malnutrition. She had the characteristic bad breath of the starving. Her body was now attacking her non-essential parts because it had no choice—she had no fat reserves. If Yue continued like this, she’d be in his medical station that night.

  “Well, then at least take it easy, okay? Lots of rest, no physical work. Your basal metabolic rate is already higher than your calorie intake, so there’s no room for physical activity.”

  “But Maxim needs someone today to bring the sludge from the life-support system outside.”

  He thought back to the last time they did that. They had run across the moon with buckets full of stinking stew. “An EVA? Absolutely not. I have to forbid that. Is Max somewhere outside?” Yes, he had to be. The Russian had it in his mind to get the greenhouses up and running.

  “He’s not by himself,” Yue said. “Kenjiro’s helping him.”

  “Ken’s not on duty this shift! Has everybody gone crazy? He needs rest, especially now.” Jonathan could already see himself in a spacesuit, dragging two collapsed astronauts into the base. First Ken, then Max, or the other way around. At least moving them wouldn’t be as difficult here on the moon.

  No, he couldn’t allow that to happen. He stood up and walked to the radio. He switched it to broadcast mode. “Max, Ken, do you copy?”

  “Kenjiro here. What’s up? Maxim is busy right now.”

  “As your doctor, I have to order you to abort your EVA immediately.”

  “Max, did you hear that?” Kenjiro asked.

  Jonathan could hear heavy breathing over the radio. Apparently, Maxim had turned on his microphone.

  “I... I’m the commander. And I say that we must complete the greenhouses.”

  “I’m sorry, Max, but you’re forgetting that the hierarchy of command changes during a medical emergency affecting the entire base. Then the doctor has the final say. And this is definitely an emergency. So, come in right now, or I’m going to have to charge you with insubordination.”

  Maxim gave a rattling laugh. “And then you’ll summon a firing squad? Please don’t make a fool of yourself. We just want to do our work here.”

  “The work can wait. And it’s not worth your health or your life. If you don’t come in, I’ll have to switch off the power to the greenhouses.”

  “What? You can’t do that,” Maxim said. “You’d destroy everything that we’ve built up to now.”

  “The greenhouses aren’t going to collapse. But you might, if you don’t come in now. The ARES will be here with fresh provisions in a couple of days. I have to make sure that all of you survive until then. That’s what’s important to me right now.”

  “Max? I wouldn’t put it past Jonathan to do just what he said,” Kenjiro said.

  “Me neither,” the commander added. “Just wait, Jon. Next time I see you, I can’t promise to behave.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll arm myself with a sedative gun. Actually, I prefer to have my patients sleeping right now. That way, they are consuming as few calories as possible.”

  February 23, 2035 – Mars Ship ARES

  They were flying at incredible speed toward a red, glowing wall. Giordano clung to the cushion of his seat. How could he have calculated such an insane course correction? Every sensor was directed at the barrier in front of them. He was very excited about the prospect that it would take them days to evaluate all the data. But first they had to survive this flight that looked more and more like it would end in a fiery crash. He clenched his teeth together so that he wouldn’t start grinding them.

  They were on the night side of the Earth. No, he corrected himself. It was night everywhere on Earth. It was the night side of the shell. While the day side shined in reflected sunlight, the night side appeared to glow from inside. But actually, absolutely nothing was coming from it, which their measurements from greater distances had already shown.

  The side currently facing away from the sun should have been completely black. It had a reddish shimmer due to the Earth’s magnetic field, which is narrower at the poles. Charged particles in the solar wind impacted the field on the day side. Some of the particles then bounced off the front side, while others moved along the field lines around the Earth and then tried to descend toward the surface with the field lines as they got closer to the opposite pole.

  But that was when the shell got in the way. The particles collided at high speed with the shell. They failed to punch a hole in the shell but instead caromed off, probably giving up some of their charge in the process. Electrons soon recombined with the particles, emitting light at different frequencies, depending on their precise nature. It appeared to be primarily excited oxygen ions at play, which typically shined red. It was creating an effect similar to the northern lights.

  The theoretical explanation was a good distraction for Giordano, but it didn’t reassure him. The ARES would probably not just simply bounce off the shell if it collided with it. Yes, it would most likely also shine, namely when the fuel tanks exploded, but there’d be nobody to see those fireworks, because the last six people on the moon would be blocked from the show by the Earth-sized shell in between them.

  The ship continued to pick up speed. It would have its highest velocity at perigee. Above the Earth, the atmosphere was very thin at this altitude, but the ship’s outer skin was already starting to heat up. They were taking a ride on a cannonball. If they came too close to the shell, they’d crash. If the ship got too hot, they’d burn up like a meteor. If the distance was too large, the braking effect wouldn’t be enough for them to reach the moon sooner.

  The braking effect of the atmosphere pressed him into his seat. The chance that everything would go smoothly appeared to be very small to him. But hadn’t he calculated everything very carefully and correctly? If his calculations were correct, then there was nothing to worry about. François had double-checked and reconfirmed everything.

  The problem was just that there were also a few unknowns included in the calculations. The density here above the sphere appeared to be somewhat greater than expected. So, the ship was already heating up more than he had thought it would. Much more. The sensors already showed 1,200 degrees at the front of the spaceship. The outer skin would conduct the heat toward the back of the ship, where the fuel tanks were located. If their cooling system failed, there wouldn’t even be enough time to say a quick prayer.

  But
that was also somehow reassuring. He, along with everyone on board, would be gone in a fraction of a second. It would be better than the poor people below the shell, who would suffer from hunger for a long time due to lack of light. How many billions of them would die? He at least still had the chance to see the sun again. Everything should be over in ten seconds, one way or the other. By then, the ARES should have completed three-quarters of its path around the Earth. The temperature was up to 1,400 degrees.

  Giordano closed his eyes. Nevertheless, he could still see the brightness that penetrated the ship. Such a beautiful sunrise he’d never seen before. For a moment, the shell formed a figure that reminded him of the yin and yang symbol, a white circular section coiling up with a similar black circular section. Right above the shell, the air shimmered like heatwaves above a desert.

  “Reporting 1,300 degrees,” the commander announced, and he heard the relief in her voice. “We’ve done it. Thank you, Giordano. Your calculations were perfect.”

  He didn’t answer, because he didn’t feel like he deserved the praise. Their chance of success had been less than ten percent.

  “Can we calculate our new ETA for the moon yet?” François asked. “Was it worth it?”

  “Just a moment,” Judith said. “I’ll adjust our trajectory with the new data. Yes! We should arrive three days earlier. We’ve made up for the delay caused by the adjustment nozzles.”

  February 25, 2035 – Moon Base Unity

  Jonathan paced like a caged tiger through the medical station. Wayne had recovered well enough that he was able to go back to his quarters that morning. But Atiya had him worried. She constantly flitted between being asleep and awake, and he didn’t understand why. The IV was now giving her enough calories and nutrition. At the moment, she was the only one whose basal metabolic rate was being met. Had her malnourishment before she collapsed injured her too significantly? If only she had come to him sooner!

  Her blood levels also didn’t particularly reassure him. There were signs of kidney and liver damage. Maybe it was previous damage from something like hepatitis that had gone undiagnosed, and nobody had known about it? Unfortunately, she wasn’t in a position to answer any questions. The situation would become critical for Atiya if her two organs didn’t recover, because the equipment necessary for cleaning her blood—performing dialysis—didn’t exist on the moon, and a transplant was definitely out of the question.

  Or should he start looking for a donor? The operation would be risky, but he could do it. Atiya had the common blood type A positive. Among the nine other astronauts, he should be able to find two, maybe three possible candidates for a living donation. But then it would also have to be determined whether the human leukocyte antigens would be a good match.

  Would he give one of his kidneys to Atiya? Of course. They all had to rely on each other. Only the removal would then be something of a complication. But wasn’t there also a doctor—a surgeon even—on board the ARES? Then that shouldn’t be a problem. If only the Mars ship would finally get here!

  He also urgently needed supplies for the nutritional solution that he was currently giving Atiya via IV. If he stretched his current supply out a bit, it’d last for three more days. After that, he wouldn’t be able to do anything but watch his patient slowly die.

  The door opened and Yue entered the medical station. She came up to him and hugged him. “You look so sad,” she said.

  “I’m worried about Atiya. We need new medical supplies right now.”

  “Then I have some good news for you.” She spoke quietly as they continued to embrace each other. He no longer felt quite so alone. Her chin touched his shoulder.

  “What is it?”

  “The ARES. They performed a braking maneuver much closer to the shell than they first intended, so that means they’ll be here sooner.”

  “When?”

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  It was good news, but still he refused to feel relieved quite yet. “How certain is this?”

  “Very certain. All they need to do is enter lunar orbit and then land.”

  So, two more maneuvers that could go wrong. It was too early to let go of his worry. His heart remained heavy.

  “Thank you for that news. I’ll tell Atiya.”

  “Do you think she can understand?”

  “I doubt it. But I’m not certain about that, either.”

  February 27, 2035 – Mars Ship ARES

  He did not like the moon. It was bleak, gray on gray, or sometimes black and white, as if God had forgotten all other colors. If he had to spend the rest of his life here, he might as well kill himself. He had to somehow convince the others to make the trip to Mars.

  Michael closed his eyes and imagined the Red Planet. He’d seen countless images from all the probes that had previously landed there. An ESA rover had even recently discovered traces of life there. It had died a few hundred million years ago, but it had survived during a time when Mars had been just as dry as today. He would bet that there was still life somewhere on Mars. But to find it would require intelligent astronauts, not dumb robots.

  A new force pressed him into his seat.

  “Final braking cycle,” Judith commented.

  The computer was controlling the landing more reliably than any human could have. Michael watched the commander, who sat tense and rigid in her seat. Apparently, she didn’t trust the computer. As if she could do any better! He smiled. He probably wouldn’t be acting any differently if he was the commander right now, like he had planned for his career.

  “Still one hundred meters,” Judith said.

  The capsule rocked a little. Michael had already gone through more than twenty landings. None of them had been smooth. That was probably due to the lack of an atmosphere. The moon was not only bleak, but also dull and dreary. He’d never be able to see cyclones or vortices moving across the surface here. There’d be no pink-reddish sunrises, no carbon dioxide snow, no weather. The best thing for them to do would be to land and then launch again right away. Everything in him screamed for that. They’d fly into orbit, dock the capsule to the rest of the ship, where Giordi and François were waiting for them, and finally restart their journey.

  “Landing in ten,” Judith said.

  Involuntarily, he felt himself tense up, even though nothing had changed. A giant shadow quickly moved across the porthole and enveloped the landing capsule in impenetrable darkness. The computer wouldn’t have any problem with that. It used radar to see the ground. The capsule descended very slowly. Three, two, one—a slight jolt to his rear end, and they had arrived.

  “You want to go first?” Judith asked.

  He looked at her angrily. That was a really bad joke. He’d wanted to be the first human on Mars, not the 31st on the moon. “Just go, savior of mankind,” he said.

  Judith opened the door. Beyond was only darkness. She pointed the light beam from her helmet lamp downward, looking for the first rung of the ladder. Then she took her first step. After a second, Michael realized that someone was waiting for them. A lone figure in a spacesuit was standing maybe ten meters away and waving weakly. What a grand welcome!

  “You got the bag?”

  “I got it.”

  He reached for the big plastic bag and slung it over his shoulder. It held the medicine that the moon base doctor had requested. He was interested in meeting his colleague. He’d told him via radio that a kidney transplant might become necessary. That had been an exciting surprise, at least, since it would be the first big operation not performed on Earth. He could go down in the medical history books for it—if anyone survived long enough to write any more history books.

  “Are you coming?” Judith asked.

  She was at the base of the ladder and waiting for him. He climbed down after her. The moon’s surface was unusually soft. His feet sank a few millimeters into the ground. It was almost like he was at a beach. Michael reached for the airlock door. He wanted to close it so that the wind wouldn’t blow a
ny sand into the airlock, but then he realized that was being a bit absurd. There was no wind here to be concerned with.

  “You’re lifesavers. It’s fantastic that you made it,” the man in the spacesuit said in greeting.

  Michael saw the logo of Roskosmos, the Russian Space Agency, on the man’s helmet.

  “I’m Maxim Gontcharov, the commander. I’m sorry that I’m the only one here to greet you. But our doctor is not currently allowing any EVAs. We’re all too weak. I was barely able to convince him to let me come and meet you. Otherwise you would’ve had to find your way to the airlock by yourselves.”

  “Your greeting is an honor. Perhaps we can do away with all the polite formalities? I’m Judith,” the commander said.

  Michael was standing next to her. “And I’m Mike,” he said, “I’m the ship’s doctor. Hopefully, your doctor and I will be able to get all of you back in shape quickly. I have the medicine with me here. The landing capsule is full of provisions.”

  “We can’t thank you enough. You have truly saved our lives,” Maxim said.

  “Of course,” Michael said. “We’re the last ten living members of our species. We’ve got to help each other!”

  “I’m glad you see it that way, even though your supplies won’t last as long if you have to share them with us.”

  “Oh, we can produce new food in a very short amount of time on Mars. Less radiation, and an atmosphere full of CO2 for the plants. It’s almost as good as on Earth.”

  The Russian didn’t answer but turned around and slowly walked away.

  “Where’s your base?” Michael asked. “I thought we were supposed to land somewhere close to it?” He only saw a few low hills. About fifty meters away, shortly past the shadow boundary, there was what looked like a kind of elongated port-a-potty.