The Battle of Broken Moon

by Michael E. Gonzales

  "A secret. Is that why they put you in the center of the place? Hell, a child could guess that."

  "I was not part of the design consultation," Ava said indignantly. "A hundred meters down corridor four, to your right, you'll find a fully-charged tram still connected to a recharge outlet. Retrieve it, return here then proceed down corridor three for approximately twenty kilometers. There, you'll find an elevator that will take you down one floor to the vehicle bay. I, with assistance from the Mark two eleven Kilo Whiskey robots, have restored Ismay in the western half of the BSC and should have it back up throughout JILL in another few minutes. In order to conceal your activities, I have not yet informed Colonel Wayne."

  "A lie of omission."

  "I'm sure he would approve, upon learning your mission will confirm whether or not one of his people is the saboteur. Either way, the search will be narrowed."

  I retrieved the new tram and again headed east. Forty-five minutes later, I arrived at the elevator in sector three. One floor down the doors opened into a vast parking and maintenance garage. There were over twenty LPCs I could see, and a dozen moon buggies. The vehicle closest to the airlock was an LPC.

  I boarded and secured the hatch. When I turned around and looked down the cylindrical hull toward the driver's seat, it hit me. I'd not been inside one of these since the accident. I walked slowly toward the front, but stopped at the communications control panel where the Lunar Positioning System was located. I looked down. Right there was where we lay running the simulated diagnostics when—

  "Matt?"

  "Susan!" I spun around. I was alone. The voice was Ava's.

  "I'm...I'm sorry, Matt, I just wanted you to know that Ismay is back on line, among other things."

  I glanced back down, and then made for the driver's seat. "That's Good. Will I lose you again—I mean…will we lose contact once I'm outside?"

  "No, not as long as you stay within thirty point five kilometers of JILL."

  "Okay, we're only going four."

  I activated the power and saw that the batteries were at thirty-five percent. That would be plenty for this short trip. I glanced over my shoulder to ensure there were Ess-CEPS aboard. Four of the space suits were secured in their place. I was good to go.

  "Open the inner airlock door, Ava."

  Amber lights began to flash, and the door in front of me separated and opened. I drove slowly into the airlock and the doors closed behind me. Inside the airlock, red lights began flashing as the air was pumped out. Next, the door in front of me opened, revealing a huge ramp a kilometer wide and stretching two hundred meters up to the surface. The first thing I noticed was the stark difference between the light inside JILL and the harsh sunlight illuminating the lunar surface.

  There was no atmosphere to defuse the light, so all the shadows were sharply defined. The colors varied from grays and browns, to almost white.

  The dust at the end of the ramp was not thick, but it became quite thick to the south. I took a moment to appreciate the beauty of it all. The sight of the infinite star-filled vista over the stark, lunar landscape, the jagged mountains, massive boulders, and the enumerable craters was awesome, in the true since of the word. I recalled what Buzz Aldrin had said when he first beheld this place; he had called it 'magnificent desolation'.

  Ava provided me a heading and, of course, the plot appeared on the LPS. Neither was necessary, as there was a well-established trail in the lunar dust left by every vehicle that had ever passed this way. About a quarter of an hour later, I pulled up to the O2 plant. The building was about fourteen thousand square meters in size, with an LPC dock on the south side that allowed me access without having to don a suit.

  "Okay, Ava, I'm in. Where to?"

  "Matt, with your permission, I can see where you are going through your eyes. May I establish that link?"

  I paused a moment, then said, "How come you didn't do this in dome seventeen?"

  "First, Ismay is inoperative in seventeen; and second, the TWD would have rendered my link ineffective. I was then, and am now, totally deaf and blind in seventeen."

  "Hmm. Okay. Eyes only, right?"

  "Yes, eyes only."

  "All right then, go ahead," I agreed. I felt nothing; there was no obvious sign that I was sharing my vision with another person.

  "Exit the ready room and enter the hallway." Ava guided me forward. "Turn right and proceed fifty meters. Now, turn left. The red door at the far end of this hallway leads out of this portion of the admin area and into the plant, itself."

  The plant was a vast array of huge machines and tubes large enough in circumference to drive an LPC through. There was no wasted space here. It was very warm and quite humid as well; at least that's what my sensors told me. A Bio would have been quite uncomfortable in here.

  Ava provided me the information I needed to arrive at the location where six huge reservoirs of the acid stood. As I drew closer to that location Ava halted me with a shout. "Stop!"

  "What's the matter?" I asked in response to her urgent demand.

  "The floor is covered with a thirteen centimeter layer of smoke."

  I looked down to see that I was about three meters from walking into it. "Is it the acid?"

  "I presume so…it's dissolving the floor. Look up, Matt. That catwalk will take us to a spot where we can see the containment cells. We must try to determine the reason for the loss of containment and attempt to evaluate the extent of the damage to the physical structure."

  I climbed atop a large piece of equipment and, from there, onto the catwalk, where Ava guided me to a ninety-degree right turn. From that point, we could see the cells that made up the acid reservoirs. This stuff was a particularly nasty acid. Inside each of the huge cells, a magnetic bottle prevented the acid from making contact with the metal of the cell, which would not have kept the stuff contained very long. The acid was also kept quite cold, which slowed down the rate at which it separated the molecules of any given substance.

  There were numerous redundant systems, all of which would have to fail for a containment unit to spring a leak. That is, if you were living your life as if you didn't want the stuff to get out. But a saboteur, with the right knowledge—and, say, an industrial laser—could shut one down with very little effort.

  I looked closely at each of the six massive cells and the control panel on the far right. What was instantly obvious was that the breach had occurred in cell number one, on the left. The bottom of the cell was completely eaten away and its entire content was on the floor below me.

  "Matt, the failure of the magnetic bottle was achieved by disrupting the flow of positive charged—"

  "Just tell me how."

  "A weapon was used. A 5.56 mm rifle firing armor-piercing, self-guided projectiles."

  "A military weapon."

  "There are no other weapons on JILL."

  "Damn."

  "And, if you'll look over to the right of the control panel, you'll note one of the twenty sample-testing vials is missing. That's how the saboteur got the acid out of here.

  "Matt, we have a critical situation. Observe the base of the bulkhead behind and to the left of cell number one. The acid has been very active at that location. No doubt, the reason the temperature has been turned up in here is to accelerate the activity of the acid. The hull will breach at that point. I don't believe we have much time. Let's get back to the LPC quickly."

  I turned to run. "Ava, you keep saying we but you're not here with me."

  "Mathew, I am always with you."

  Chapter 9

  Attacked

  "Mathew, I am always with you," she had said.

  I got the strange feeling of Dėjà vu. I kept trotting along the catwalk as I said over Ismay, "Ava, every so often you say stuff that—" There came the sound of a loud snap and the catwalk under me shifted violently to my left and tilted in the same direction. I was just able to grab the handrail as I fell and was now dangling over the acid-covered floor. "What the—"
/>   "The acid has eaten through the catwalk’s supports!" Ava reported. "Matt, you must hurry; the structure could collapse in moments."

  I was only six meters from the farthest advance of the acid flow on the floor. Once beyond, it would be an easy run to the LPC.

  I moved hand-over-hand toward the safe area. To fall into the acid here could mean a loss of my feet—or worse. Then I'd be stuck here, and when the bulkhead gave way, I'd be sucked out onto the lunar surface, exposed to the radiation and freezing temperatures where my brain would slowly die of exposure. I was three or four meters from safety when the framework behind me gave way. In front of me, the metal bent and I started to swing down toward the acid covered floor.

  "Matt!" Ava screamed.

  I started to climb as fast as I could. Behind me, the catwalk was already scraping the floor. I was just four meters from the top when the bent and weakened metal above started to separate at a joint. To my left and below me was one of those huge tubes. It was fourteen meters or so away and about three meters below me. I had always been a good jumper, but I'd never tested my ability in my new body in this lower lunar gravity. Obviously, I could jump farther—much farther. It was time to find out. I pulled myself up onto the tilted floor of the walkway, and then looked from the bent catwalk over to the massive pipe.

  "Matt, what are you planning?" Ava asked.

  I heard the metal under me groan, so I leapt. The entire thing took place in slow motion as I hurtled through the air. I hit the side of the pipe and started to slide down. I jammed the fingers of my right hand hard into the pipe. My metal fingers punctured the pipe, but the skin peeled back. I felt pain for a second, then the sensors shut down. I started climbing. When I got to the top, I started running again.

  "Matt, when you get back, report to Doc. I have made him aware of your injury and he is standing by."

  I ran and jumped from pipe to machine to pipe again until I was clear of the acid pool, then I dropped to the floor and started trotting toward the door.

  The sound was that of an extremely high-pitched whistle, at about 50 kHz, outside the range of human hearing. I heard it quite clearly, though, and I felt a change to the air pressure. I also detected a movement of the air inside the structure.

  "Matt, the bulkhead is breached. It will grow more severe with every passing second. Hurry!"

  I started running as fast as possible, dodging all the pipes and machines as Ava guided me toward the red door where I had entered.

  The last fifty meters were incredibly difficult. The far bulkhead must have given in, and exploded out into the vacuum of space. The sudden force of the escaping air was pulling hard on me. Additionally, everything not bolted down was being pulled toward the hole in the distant wall. I was twice struck by large, heavy objects.

  "Matt, the plant's computer is about to seal all airtight doors. You must move faster!"

  I dug down and struggled against the gale force winds that carried all manner of projectiles, all of which seemed to be directed at me! Once through the door, the wind and noise ceased. I ran as fast as I could toward the airlock and the waiting LPC.

  I found the door to the airlock sealed when I got there. "Ava, open the airlock."

  "I have tried Matt, I am currently attempting to override the command of the organic system, stand by."

  A moment passed.

  "Matt," Ava continued, "I am unable to open this door. However, I have an alternative. Go back into the hall, but turn left this time and go the plant supervisor's office."

  I did as Ava advised and was soon standing in an empty office space. "I take it the Super is off today?"

  "The plant is fully automated. The admin section was only used during construction. Matt, do you see the window?"

  To my left, there was an oval window in the bulkhead three meters long and a meter tall.

  "You see what I see Ava," I said.

  "Of course. Look through it and to your left, and you'll see the front end of the LPC."

  "Ava, are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

  "Remove the window. Climb out on to the lunar surface, and access the LPC through the escape hatch in the bottom."

  "Without an Ess-CEPS?"

  "Matt, you do not require an atmosphere, and your brief exposure to the vacuum and radiation should be well within acceptable limits. However, because this side of the plant is in shadow, the temperature out there is minus one hundred fifty-three degrees Celsius. You must remember, once inside the LPC, to close the hatch, flood the chamber with air, and turn the heat up."

  "Ava, you know this is not glass. It won't just break."

  "It is, in fact, Kotov's plastic steel, a layered polymer nanocomposite—"

  "Whoa, Ava, I don't need a science lesson."

  "Matt, the metal wall around the window will be easier to attack than the window itself. You have the strength to do that."

  "Really?"

  I approached the wall and tapped on it just under the window. It sounded hollow. I pressed the already fleshless fingers of my right hand into the wall and it buckled. I pressed harder and it peeled away like the wrapper on a candy bar. I then removed the special insulation, and found surrounding the window what appeared to be a metal bracket, held in place by dozens of large screws. I followed it across the bottom until I found a seam. I grabbed the edge and started peeling. This took considerable effort, but slowly, it started to come loose. The first screw stripped out and I got a better grip on the frame. I pulled with all my might.

  It was a different feeling than from before. I no longer felt as if I could grit my teeth and gain untapped strength from my gut; rather, I knew what my limitations were—and understood I could not exceed them.

  One at a time, the screws began to strip out of their anchors. I was at the far left end of the bracket now and starting to follow the curve of the window upward when I began to hear the sound of escaping atmosphere.

  "Matt," Ava said, "remove another meter, then go secure yourself to the opposite wall."

  The air was hissing out of the window now and the temperature in the room plummeted. I watched as the moisture in the air turned to mist, and then froze to the walls, ceiling, and floor as frost. I could feel the cold of space penetrating my body. At first, it was easy to ignore; I just turned off my epidermis nerve sensors. But that degree of cold can't be denied for long.

  I moved to the opposite wall and peeled back the first layer of metal, then grabbed the load-bearing support I found under it.

  "Matt, in a few seconds the window will explode out into space, then you must start your movement without hesitation."

  "What about the EFS? Won't this room flood with it any second now?"

  "No. The plant's computer informs me that all EFS containers for this facility have been emptied."

  "Emptied? But how is that possible?"

  "The computer indicates it received a command to vent the EFS from the system. It was done intentionally. No doubt, part of the intended sabotage was to deny air to the facility. But with fewer people and a smaller occupied space, the original O2 plant will be more than sufficient.”

  There came the sound of a rifle shot, then the entire world went silent, except for Ava's voice in my head.

  "Run!" she screamed. The urgency in her voice told me that this was not going to be as easy as she had made it sound. The first thing I noticed as I jumped through the window were the flashes of light. Without the protection of the Ess-CEPS helmet, high energy, heavy cosmic ray particles were penetrating my eyes and interacting with my artificial retinas. I was witnessing my exposure to brain cell-killing radiation.

  The surface was four meters below the opening of the window, as soon as I hit it, I started running. The lunar dust was thick here, perhaps twenty centimeters, but it was the odd feeling I remember most. It's one thing to walk on the surface in Ess-CEPS boots which were specifically designed for that purpose—quite another in regular combat boots. My progress was slower than I had anticipat
ed, but not so slow as to prolong my exposure.

  The bottom of the LPC was only one-and-a-half meters above the surface. Once under it, I opened the cover to the control pad and, as I was venting the atmosphere, I started to laugh.

  "Matt," Ava asked, "what could possibly be funny?"

  "I was just thinking…I should be holding my breath!"

  Ava then began to laugh. And not a recorded and programmed response to a stimulus, but a laugh—a real laugh.

  The atmosphere was venting from the LPC at a terrific rate, so I started to close the access panel cover. That's when I noticed my fingers were not responding well. "Ava, I have a problem, here. My fingers don't want to work."

  "It's the cold Matt, get inside, replenish the air and turn the heat up to thirty-one degrees Celsius, hurry!"

  I opened the hatch, withdrew the ladder and started up. I had taken just two steps when my legs gave out. I tightened my grip on the rungs of the ladder and began to pull, but the strength just wasn't there. The cold was affecting all my limbs. If I fell, I was dead.

  In my memory, I thought back to that foot race I'd had with Walker… how I'd reached down inside myself for the strength necessary. It was just a memory, but it worked. I disregarded the readouts and pulled one hand after another. Inside, I just flopped on the floor; I had to turn myself around and pull the ladder up, and then hit the button that closed the hatch. The environmental controls were on the panel on the wall opposite the LPS controls. My legs were still inoperative and my arms were failing.

  I grabbed the lip of the console and pulled myself up. Red indicators started flashing all around the peripheral in my field of vision. The emergency atmosphere button was a large, rubber-covered thing low on the console's left. I smacked it with my palm. My sensors detected it before I heard it; the pressure inside the vehicle was rapidly increasing. Then, I heard the sound of air blasting into the cabin. It would stop at 1,013 millibars. At the same time, I increased the temperature—and just in time, because my arms quit working, and I fell to the floor.