The Battle of Broken Moon

by Michael E. Gonzales

  The Unborn Galaxy

  Book Two

  The Battle of Broken Moon

  Michael E. Gonzales

  The Battle of Broken Moon

  Copyright© 2016 Michael E. Gonzales

  Cover Design Livia Reasoner

  Fire Star Press

  www.firestarpress.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.

  DEDICATION

  To my wife and son for their patience and understanding.

  I dedicate this volume to my late father, Earl.

  FORWARD

  In the year 2022 when the International Interplanetary Exploration Agency announced its plan to lead the world community in the construction of a base on the lunar surface many were skeptical, and the push to add to man’s scientific knowledge only infuriated certain zealots on Earth. Regardless the IIEA pushed forward, and at no small expense in capitol and in lives, completed the base and christened it the Joint International Lunar Laboratory, but came to be affectionately referred to as “JILL.”

  The Moon is the obvious logistical staging area for all human endeavors into space. It sits on the edge of Earth’s gravitational field, so it was from the Moon that humanity sent colonists to Mars, and the stars beyond.

  The engineers understood that a domicile on the Moon would have to provide humans with more than just a breathable environment, it must also protect against extremes of temperature, radiation, meteors and micro-meteor impacts, just to name a few of the many hazards present when trying to survive in the hostile conditions of space.

  Many of the resources used in JILL’s construction were mined from and manufactured on the Moon, because the cost of shipping materials from Earth, in those early days, was extremely expensive.

  The plan was to construct a series of hardened metal domes, designed to withstand the impact of meteors—as long as none of them were too large, as well as to provide protection from the myriad of other, ever present dangers.

  The number of domes grew exponentially until at last the total reached fifty-one.

  Within many of the domes, buildings were constructed, not unlike what you would find in any city on Earth. In most cases, these structures were built against the hull of the dome leaving court yard space in the middle for parks replete with grass, flowers, trees, and various statues, artistic and commemorative.

  All the domes possessed port holes to allow people a glimpse out onto the moon. In those domes designated as billets, or living quarters, portholes looking outside were provided in each room, as well as standard windows in the walls which looked out into the dome itself.

  Several domes were simply built with decks, like in an ocean liner. Within these domes were the numerous and varied science labs, and stations, also the administrative areas for the cadre.

  There were also, vehicle parking areas located on the ground floors of the larger domes, while some domes were entirely dedicated to the squadrons of low orbit lunar survey ships.

  The mental health of the citizens of the base was a paramount consideration. Dome one, where new residents first arrive after departing the Lunar Harbor, was designed with a great deal of aesthetics in mind. The structures within the dome were built to mimic the appearance of the most modern glass and steel towers found in any major city on Earth.

  The lobby area, where new arrivals enter the dome, occupied the spacious court yard of the dome and provided an impressive vista of this lunar metropolis. The lobby was as one might expect to find in the finer hotels of the world; designer furniture graced the area; exquisite carpets added color to the lunar-marble floors; above, great chandeliers made from magnificent, and extremely rare, lunar crystals illuminated a collection of art the likes of which could not be found on Earth; the one sixth gravity of the Moon allowed for an entirely new genus of art. There were fountains to rival those of Rome, flowing with holographic water; and throughout JILL shops, cinemas, restaurants, clubs, casinos, and many other adult entertainments and distractions were provided.

  JILL opened in the year 2037 to universal acclaim, from all but those who had again plunged the world into a bloody war in the name of their deity. Regardless JILL was undoubtedly humanity’s greatest achievement to that point.

  A few years later, a massive addition to JILL was added. The new structure was roughly round, with its main floor at ground level and a further five floors extending underground. The huge facility measured nearly thirty kilometers north to south, and forty-three kilometers east to west—so large that it could clearly be seen from Earth with a strong pair of binoculars.

  It was named for Impey Barbicane, who, with two companions, were the first to take the long trip across the gulf of space and circumnavigate the Moon. Thus, the new facility became the Barbicane Science Center, known simply as “the BSC”.

  The BSC became the standard for all off-world colonies and, eventually, similar structures were constructed on both Mars and upon distant Antyllus.

  Chapter 1

  The Great Quake

  The first event came without preamble, and was unprecedented in man's experience on the Moon. At 17:22 Lunar time, the surface of the Moon violently leapt to the east. The jolt was so severe that vehicles in the parking domes shifted on their platforms.

  In dome number one, the main lobby, statues tumbled from their perches, and chandeliers came crashing down. Subsequent jolts caused structures under the many domes of JILL to crumble, buildings fell and tons of interior dome lining and insulation tumbled in great chunks to the floor.

  In the various laboratories, expensive experiments into which countless hours and billions of Globals had been invested were destroyed. Massive machines instrumental to the sustainment of life on the Moon were upended, tossed and broken.

  Domes thirty-nine and forty-three instantly suffered breaches to their pressure hulls, something the designers of these shelters had believed to be nearly impossible.

  Rumblings continued, interspersed with jolts that felt as if the domes were being lifted several meters then dropped.

  At dome number forty-five the surface of the Moon rent open exposing a vast trackless void that vanished into the sunless depths of the satellite. The dome tittered on the edge of this chasm, slowly inclining toward the darkness.

  The quake was altering the Moon's surface. The surrounding mountains fell and vanished and new elevations rose, sharp and jagged into the starry sky, the sides of craters collapsed, and boulders rolled down at JILL from the old mountains to the north and the newly formed mountains to the northwest. Great fissures opened and spread. The sixty-two mile long fissure Rima Milichius fractured like a chip in a windshield. Its long dark arms reaching out like a living thing to take possession of dome forty-five. As the Moon shook, the dome dipped and slid silently into the dark chasm never to be seen again.

  Before the quake had subsided, the first responders, the Lunar Civil Defense Detachment, leapt to action. Rescue and recovery took priority and the LCDD's years of intensive training and preparation paid off in spades. The medical staff was alerted, and all LCDD vehicles became ambulances.

  JILL's many engineers, as well as those organic to the LCDD, began an intense survey of JILL's physical structure to determine which habitats were still viable. Maintenance staff and robots were outside the structures, plugging air leaks and finding that, in several cases, entire domes needed to be evacuated and sealed.
This is where the LCDD showed their true value. They had been trained to move large elements of the population in a quick and orderly manner in the event of just this type of catastrophic situation.

  Temporary shelters and medical facilities were set up wherever space was available, and space was becoming a problem as dome after dome needed to be evacuated and sealed.

  Mr. Peacock was the facility administrator on JILL. He was a man of about fifty-five years of age; a rather corpulent fellow with a ruddy face. He wore large, thick glasses, was almost always in a three-piece suit, and carried a pocket watch.

  He wielded authority over every aspect of JILL's operation, to include the budget and research timetables. He could, by just ignoring a research team, kill their project, and yes, he could be that petty. For almost a decade, he had been given the type of authority only enjoyed by sea captains, but now his domain was falling apart. He found himself in a situation that, though he had known it possible, he had never expected to see, and one for which he was singularly unprepared. His political influence was of no use to him now.

  After thirty-six hours of barely controlled panic, and twelve fierce aftershocks since the initial quake, Mr. Peacock found himself exhausted and short-tempered. He was pouring over plans and reports with his senior staff when Colonel Wayne, the Commander of the LCDD, approached him. "Pardon me, Mr. Peacock, may I speak with you alone?"

  "What the hell is it, Colonel? I'm quite busy here."

  "Sir, Marcus Rollow has been killed."

  Mr. Rollow was the assistant administrator under Mr. Peacock and had been so for the past three years. Rollow had come to be Mr. Peacock's right hand, the energetic and capable youth Peacock had once been, so this news struck him quite hard. It was the last piece of bad news his mind could cope with. He staggered back, fell into his chair, and clasped a hand over his mouth. He then pulled the glasses from his face and stared blankly ahead.

  "Mr. Peacock?" the colonel said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "are you all right?"

  Harry Linderman stepped out of the group of staff members, took Peacock's hand, and looked into his eyes. "Colonel, get a medic up here, I think he's going into shock."

  With Rollow dead and Peacock suffering a nervous breakdown Harry Linderman, chief of facility security, was now the man in charge. He wasted no time and asked all staff sections to bring him up to speed on the situation. Two things stood out to him. One, JILL was losing far too many domes. The astronomy, biochem, geology, medical supply, and the LCDD barracks domes were now reported as vacuums. And two, they had lost dome forty-five completely. Witnesses reported seeing it "slide" into a fissure that stretched out from Rima Milichius.

  Casualties had been comparatively light; it could have been very much worse. There were several dozen killed, but many times that number severely injured. There were only eight unaccounted for. Seven were believed to have been in dome forty-five. The last, a sergeant of the LCDD, was last seen driving an LPC out of dome seventeen headed for number forty-five.

  Harry made the call after hearing the results of the LCDD reconnaissance of the location where forty-five had once stood. The fissure appeared to be bottomless, and there was no sign of dome forty-five. Harry declared the dome and its occupants as casualties. He did not have the time or resources to launch the kind of rescue that would have been required. It was a tough call, but necessary.

  After conferring with the engineers, it was decided that the still sealed, and as yet unfinished addition to JILL, the Barbicane Science Center or BSC, on JILL's eastern extent, was sufficiently completed to aid in housing the displaced elements of the population. And according to the teams sent to investigate the BSC, though it had not escaped unscathed, it was structurally sound.

  Harry ordered all but the minimum necessary crew needed to maintain communications with Earth and ensure the Lunar Harbor remained accessible, to move into the BSC. He had already asked Earth for an emergency evacuation of JILL, so communications and access to the harbor were an absolute necessity.

  Harry also asked for volunteers from the LCDD to go out into the domes and procure food, water, and additional medical supplies.

  "Colonel," he said to the detachment commander, "I know this will be dangerous, but we're gonna have to hole up in the BSC for two to three days while the shuttles get here and we're going to need those supplies."

  "Mr. Linderman, I think the situation warrants me bringing you into the loop."

  "What loop?"

  "Understand that what I am about to tell you is classified crypto, the highest security classification. This information is not to leave this room."

  "Yeah, I know. That's a military classification, so we're talking about your military role, not your role here as security?"

  "That's correct sir, as you know the LCDD is a military organization under the Department of Defense by international agreement."

  "Go on, Colonel."

  "Sir, I have just the personnel to conduct your mission, personnel that will be more resistant to extremes of temperature, exposure to radiation, and unaffected by a lack of atmosphere."

  "Colonel, just what the deuce are you talking about?"

  "Sir, several members of my Detachment are what we call 'SUBs', C.E.U.H.B., the acronym for Cyberneticly Enhanced and Uploaded Human Beings."

  "Come again?" Harry asked.

  "These individuals have robotic, humanoid bodies but—"

  "You mean the androids we have here on JILL?"

  "No, sir, there are no androids on JILL. That's a cover story. The brain of a SUB is not an artificial intelligence but actual human brain tissue and actual human intelligence. All the SUBs are real persons—real human beings, once of flesh and blood, just like you. Most are volunteers to the program, but some were saved from death by a procedure called a whole brain emulation.

  "The biological brain is mapped in detail and copied into the Goliath computer at the JPL. The computer runs models so faithful to the original that they behave in exactly the same way as the original brain, retaining all the donor's personality and memories. Bodies are constructed, and in most cases, are near identical replicas of the originals—but greatly enhanced by virtue of the prosthetic body, itself. Then the Biotronic brain, containing key elements of the donor's own brain, is uploaded with the brain emulation."

  Harry sat stunned a moment. "You're kidding?"

  "No, sir, not at all. I have oversimplified the procedure considerably but—"

  "Colonel, that's incredible. How many SUBs do you have?"

  "Forty-nine, sir."

  "How is it I've never seen any of these SUBs?"

  "You see them every day. Sir, I am a SUB."

  ○O○

  With the assistance of the SUBs, all the necessary supplies were gathered and a portion of the BSC made secure for the quake survivors. SUBs also kept communications open and maintained the harbor.

  The knowledge that some of the Lunar Civil Defense Detachment's members were SUBs was kept secret from the rest of the survivors. But with all those PhDs, there were bound to be questions.

  Dr. Nivikov, for one, was aware that the medical supply dome was now an airless vacuum, yet he observed supplies and equipment arriving that he knew could only have come from there. "Pardoning me Polkovnik, I am meaning Colonel. But how is it these items, from the med supply are brought here? The dome is without an atmosphere. Also, I am seeing equipment whose lunar weight is still above 200 kilos, how was this transported?"

  "Doctor, my men got it here, and for that, let us be truly thankful."

  ○O○

  The first of the shuttles landed and the LCDD started moving the first groups aboard. The decision on the priority of departure was made by Harry and his staff. The injured were, of course, the first to go. There was little trouble about the order, but there is always an exception. When Dr. Sakoung Do-Jung found himself relegated to one of the last shuttles, he objected. "Priority should go to the best minds. There is a considerable brain trust here
that humanity can ill afford to lose."

  "And just where would you put yourself on that list of minds, Doctor?" Harry asked.

  "Mr. Linderman, the Democratic People's Republic of Korea will be greatly upset if I should fail to return!"

  "Dr. Sakoung, sit down and be quiet. If you stir up these people, or cause me any problems whatsoever, I will have you arrested and secured, and you will then leave with me on the very last shuttle."

  The commander of the transport that had just landed was an Air Force colonel named Dalton Parker. At his insistence, he was escorted to the office being used by Harry. Colonel Wayne was present there as well.

  Colonel Parker entered the room and saluted Harry, and then his eyes fell on Colonel Wayne. "Duke?"

  "How are you Dalt?" He stuck out his hand. Dalt grabbed it and pulled him in for a bear hug and warm slap on the back.

  "'Duke'?" Harry asked.

  "I was called Duke at the academy because of my name," Colonel Wayne said.

  "Yes, sir," Dalton said, "and he lived up to it, too!"

  Colonel Wayne smiled. "It's been a long time, Dalt. When did you get your astronaut's wings?"

  "About the same time you volunteered for project SUB. I'd heard you'd gone through with it. I'm happy to see you chickened out."

  "But I didn't."

  Dalt stood silently looking Colonel Wayne over, head to toe, then deep into his eyes. "You're kidding? You look—"

  "Almost human?"

  "Well, yeah. I mean—damn, buddy, how could you let the lab coats turn you into a robot?"

  "Dalt, I'm still me, just stronger, faster, and more resilient."

  "The Duke I knew could bleed, cry, and—well, the way I see it, Duke is dead. You're just some kind of recording."

  "Gentlemen," Harry interrupted rather firmly, "I hate to break up this touching reunion, but this is a rescue and time is a factor. Colonel Parker, I understand you have instructions for me?"