Diamond Moon

by B K Gallagher

  Mara took a deep breath, waiting for what would surely be a response. There was a pause as she collected herself, but Johan had remained quiet, and he had given her an opening.

  “We need you to stay, Johan. Without you there is no mission. We need your power for our equipment, we need you to operate the crane. You have the means for water production with your electrolysis system. Our crew needs you.”

  Johan nodded. “I’ll have my crew top off your tanks. Then you will be able to stay for as many quakes as you want. And I hope there are no more for your sake.” He turned to leave, but he stopped himself.

  “You know what else, Mara? I know there is something more down there that you aren’t telling me. You’ve turned off your monitors, you’ve been communicating by text. Your crew is acting like they are hiding something. I’ve seen too many young men try to hide shit from me. A rich vein here, a pocket of valuable ore there… there is something you don’t want me to know about… So I’m not sure why I should believe anything you tell me when you haven’t even been honest with us.

  Mara buckled at the knees. She knew he had a very good reason not to trust her. She and the other scientists had given him every reason not to. Her silence had admitted her guilt as she stared back at him, and they both knew it.

  “You can’t leave with our sub, Johan,” she said, conceding the situation with a wavering voice. “If you stay here with us, NASA will make it up to you.”

  Johan laughed. He had already turned to leave. “We’ll have the sub placed at the Hab for you,” he shouted as he walked away. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a launch to prepare for.” He held his chin up as he went, walking with the arrogance of a man who knew he had won an argument.

  Hanson remained with Mara. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I tried to get him to stay, like you asked. I did. He wants to go.”

  “I don’t know why I was hoping he’d stay,” she said as she watched Johan leave. “I need to talk to Dr. Aman. We need to see what we can do to extend the mission without the Zephyr.”

  Mara walked to the familiar console where Reese was working. She punched the comm-link button and brought up Dr. Aman. “Hab One, this is Mara. Come in Hab One,” she said into the monitor.

  Dr. Aman’s image came up nearly immediately. “Hab One here, Dr. Aman speaking,” he said.

  “Dr. Aman, this is Dr. Parrish. We’ve got a situation here,” she told him.

  “I’m guessing you had your talk with Johan?” he asked.

  “Yes, and the Zephyr is leaving… Soon. We need to see how we can continue the mission without them.”

  Dr. Aman appeared disappointed. “I figured it would be a tough sell to get him to stay,” he said. “And you told them we can predict the next quake?”

  “Johan doesn’t believe any of it. He doesn’t want to be here. It doesn’t matter if we can predict the next quake or anything else. He wants to go. He believes it’s too dangerous.”

  Dr. Aman appeared to be mulling over their options. “Let me make some calls to Copernicus, Mara,” he said. “There are strings we can pull. I will be in touch with Mission Control. There is a contract regarding Astromine’s presence here. A contract we expect them to fulfill,” the doctor said.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” Hanson joined in, appearing on Dr. Aman’s monitor next to Mara. “Johan will use the eminent danger and safety clause in the contract to leave. If he decides it’s too dangerous to stay, he has jurisdiction over his rig. It’s his call as the captain. Read the documents, it’s also in the contract. It’s as good as done,” Hanson told him.

  “He can’t just leave us,” Reese said. “What about our water and fuel?”

  “I doubt he intends to strand us here,” Dr. Aman said. “He said he would top off our tanks.” The doctor appeared to be thinking of what to do next. “I will be in touch when I can speak with Mission,” he said. “I better send them a message at once.”

  “Get back to us when you can,” she said. “We’ll stay here and see what we can do.”

  “No, I want you two back over here. Don’t get yourself into a situation where you are preventing Johan from a launch,” he replied.

  “Johan has to deliver EUNICE to the Hab before he leaves, and we need to give him instructions on how to do it,” she said. “We should have time to do that while they fill our tanks.”

  “No, please come back to the Hab now. We will discuss what to do with EUNICE here. The return capsule is not designed for her. I will get on the comm to Mission. Over.” The monitor turned black.

  Mara shook her head and turned to Hanson. “I suppose you need to get ready to leave?” she asked.

  “What options do I have?” Hanson said. “If there was anything else I could do I would do it,” he said.

  Mara stood near him, but something was keeping her from

  leaving.

  “You better go,” he said, not sure why she was hesitating.

  Mara nodded and looked him dead in the eye. “You tried, that’s what matters to me,” she said. She stood next to Hanson under the large framework of the crane, and she felt that there were words she had left unsaid, but she was content to leave things as they were. She turned and left without saying anything else.

  Sol 15; Mission time — 19:28

  “Copernicus, come in. This is Dr. Aman.”

  Silence.

  “Copernicus, do you copy?”

  More silence.

  “Copernicus, come in. This is Dr. Aman. We have a situation. Come in please.”

  The monitor flipped on. It was Luis. He was eating something, still chewing. He swallowed. “Dr. Aman, sorry, was finishing my dinner.”

  “Luis, I need to get a message to Mission Control, is Stenner available?”

  “Uh, no, he’s uh… he’s outside the hull doing some inspections on the shielding. What do you need?”

  “I need to relay a message to Earth.”

  “Ok, what is it?”

  “It needs to go through Stenner.”

  “I have clearance to read the transcripts. Just tell me what you want to send. I can pass it to Stenner.”

  Dr. Aman thought about it for a minute. It would take Stenner at least 20 minutes to get back inside from the exterior, take off his suit, and get on the comm. “Fine. Johan is launching the Zephyr. As soon as possible… He is prepping his crew now. He said he would bring EUNICE for us and top off our tanks. I need to send a message to Mission Control to have them contact Astromine Corporate.”

  “Got it. Zephyr launching immediately… contact Astromine.”

  “Yes, Luis, we are dead in the water if the Zephyr leaves. Get the message out now. We do not have much time.”

  “Got it,” Luis said. His monitor turned black.

  Dr. Aman stood looking into the monitor for a minute. The exchange seemed awkwardly brief.

  There was little he could do now. He turned his attention to the Zephyr and peered out of the portal towards the large steel framework nearby. He could see two figures making their way underneath the framework and trusses of the vessel. Reese and Mara were on their way.

  Dr. Aman turned to Julian, who was looking out another window. “Should we tell her under these circumstances?” he asked.

  “It’s going to be hard on her either way,” Julian responded.

  “There is no good way to tell someone something like this.”

  “I’d want to know,” Julian told the doctor, offering his opinion rather forcefully. “It’s always better to know.”

  “I will talk to her as soon as she gets settled in. Get your materials ready,” Dr. Aman said.

  “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

  “Good, and we should both try and be prepared for what will come next.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Five years ago

  Mara rushed i
nto the water from the picnic on the beach. There had sometimes been a dolphin or two to play with near her Mother’s house, and George was lucky enough to have spotted one during his visit. Without hesitation they both leaped from the beach and into the water. Mara made it into the surf first, much less afraid of the ocean than George, who had grown up in Iowa.

  “Nothing to be afraid of, George,” she said as she hurled herself into the surf and disappeared under a curl of seawater.

  George walked into the water, happy to remain on his feet.

  She was already into water that was too deep for her to touch when the dolphins swam near. One jumped out of the water nearby. “Hurry,” she yelled.

  He continued to walk into the deeper water, but there was a pain in his legs. They refused to respond as he wanted. He pressed on anyway.

  When he neared Mara, his feet were no longer touching the sand. He treaded water to where she was. She was already near a dolphin who had stopped to play with her. “I think he expects some food,” she said to George as he came closer.

  “Yeah, I forgot my dolphin biscuits on the beach,” George said. He tried to approach one, but it leaped backward and swam away.

  George gestured with his hand to see if the dolphin would respond.

  “It’s not a dog,” Mara told him, laughing at his hand movements. Suddenly they were both laughing.

  Mara watched George burst with excitement as he interacted with the animals. He had become a regular at Mara’s beachside condo in Pensacola. Despite her early reluctance, she admitted she was enjoying these times as much as anything.

  George had slipped easily into the routine near the ocean. Mara’s Mom had been delighted to have him visiting their hometown regularly. Any anxiety that Mara had about having him there had dissipated amid the long walks along the shore. They had been spending a happy Summer together.

  George was not quite as adjusted to swimming in the ocean as Mara, but eager to learn. He was finally getting to experience the beach and the ocean lifestyle as Mara had while she was growing up.

  A wave crested at just the wrong time. It knocked George under. He was out beyond where he couldn’t touch, and as he came above the water, he was coughing deeply.

  Mara saw him struggling and came to him, and the dolphins swam away. She asked if he was alright.

  “Yes,” he said, still coughing, afraid to admit anything wrong. “The current feels strong today,” he said. “My legs can barely fight it,” he remarked.

  Mara thought it odd, she hadn’t noticed much of a current at all. Then George seemed to seize with pain when he tried to kick again towards the shore.

  “George!” she shrieked, and she saw him go under the water.

  He surfaced after only a second. “I don’t know what it is,” he said. “I’m cramping or something,” he said. He went under again, and another wave crashed over them, sending him even lower into the water.

  Mara began to fear for him, and she knew she couldn’t afford to panic. She needed to be fast. She dove under and grabbed him by the waist. She pushed him up above her so that he could take a breath, then swam to his backside and reached her arm around underneath his, curling it across his chest.

  She began kicking toward the shore, holding him with her arm. George was flailing, trying to maintain his balance. His arms were inflicting blows to Mara’s head as she worked him toward the shore.

  “Relax, please!” she shouted over the breaking surf.

  “It’s a panic attack,” Mara thought to herself. “Not unusual for someone who hadn’t spent a lot of time in the ocean,” she realized. She brushed it off as she pulled him closer to shore.

  She continued until her foot scraped the sand for the first time. A few more kicks and strokes of her arm and she would have leverage against the surf pulling her back in. Her feet were finally making solid falls on the sand. She pushed their way out of the breakers, pulling George behind her.

  He felt heavy. He was frightened and uncooperative. He was using Mara’s shoulder to lean his weight upon. She worked against his body as they came out of the waist-deep water.

  She pulled him into the shallow surf and let him go. She fell backward, facing the ocean. George had caught himself and braced himself upright. She noticed he was breathing hard, even for a swim in the ocean.

  He pushed himself onto his elbows. He held himself above the rushing water with a confusion and frightened expression, and he was taking deep, frequent breaths. Mara worried he was hyperventilating.

  They both rested, and waves rushed over their legs.

  “What was that, George?” she asked.

  “My legs aren’t working. Maybe I was stung by a jellyfish?”

  he asked.

  “You’d have felt that,” she replied. “And I haven’t seen any jellyfish all day”

  George pushed himself out of the water by his arms and tried to get onto his feet, but he fell forward. There was fear in his eyes.

  “My legs!” he yelled, collapsing down upon the sand. A panicked expression overtook him. “What’s wrong?” he shouted, looking down at his feet.

  Mara reached a hand under each of his shoulders, pulling him out of the surf. She brought him up onto the beach, to the shallow tide that would only hit his feet every so often. The firm wet sand held him in place there. She sat next to him and attempted to address the issue thoroughly and patiently.

  “George, what is the matter?” she asked. She looked intensely for injuries that might explain his behavior. There could be sting marks, or even broken bones.

  “I can’t move my legs,” he said, looking down at them.

  Mara saw his face straining. He was trying to move them, to move his feet, anything he could below his waist.

  Mara thought he was hurting, but she realized the expression on his face was one of fear, not pain. George’s legs moved only the tiniest amount. They would barely come off the sand, then collapse into the surf. The water was rushing at him and surrounding him with foam and tumbling rocks. Each wave washed terror through him, crashing around him and on him and through his body. One after the other; the emotions were enveloping him, and leaving him suffocating with fear.

  “I’m going to go get help,” Mara told him. She began running toward the car.

  “No, wait,” George pleaded. “Don’t leave me.”

  Mara stopped and walked back. She sat beside him in the sand, not sure what else to do. George was shaking, and she didn’t know if he was cold or panicked or going into shock. A lot of possibilities crossed her mind. She waited with helpless confusion, trying to sooth him.

  She waited for George to regain his confidence or to calm down. They sat for an indeterminate amount of time. There were not a lot of words to be spoken. When he was ready, George let her know, and she helped him to his feet.

  George kept his arm around her shoulder for balance and strength as they walked him to the car, and they drove home in a stunned silence.

  Two weeks later

  Mara sat next to George while they waited for the diagnosis. George had been through rounds of tests, MRI’s, bloodwork, physical evaluations, and DNA screenings. “This would provide answers,” she thought. It would help determine what was wrong and what they could do about it. She was determined to fight, whatever it was. She was going to beat it with nothing more than willpower and determination.

  She could tell George was not as confident. Whatever was attacking his body had left him shaken. She knew that he wanted answers just as she did, but the pain and discomfort and the fear that came with it were his burden, not hers.

  She sensed that he needed her, and he needed someone to be positive and confident for him. She would encourage him and care for him and help him, no matter the results.

  The doctor opened the door and came in, clutching a folder of papers under his curled arm. He straightened his glass
es and sat at his desk.

  “George. The results are in,” he said as he set the items down

  nearby.

  Mara answered “good,” as she shuffled her weight in the seat, trying to think positively. Inside, however, she felt herself bracing for the blow, and steadying herself for the forces that were about to plow into her.

  “George,” the doctor said with a concerned voice.

  Mara felt her heart sink. She knew from his intonation they would not be receiving good news.

  “You have a condition called Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis,” the doctor said.

  She raised her hand to her mouth, not entirely certain what the words meant, but she knew what it stood for.

  “Do you know what that is?” the doctor asked.

  Mara nodded, and George sat immobilized. She felt her eyes begin to water, and her hands shook. She was trying to be strong, but the emotions were already overwhelming her. The doctor continued speaking as Mara felt herself losing control.

  “It’s ALS, George,” he said, pausing for a moment. “Otherwise known as Lou Gehrig’s disease.” He said it in a hushed tone, as if it wouldn’t give the diagnosis any real power.

  Mara felt George clinging to her hand. He still had not given a reaction of any kind otherwise. She thought maybe he was ignoring the doctor, refusing to believe what he was saying. But she knew by the way he had clutched her hand that he was dealing with the information and processing it in his own way.

  The doctor began to place charts and images upon a board beside him. There were magnifications of neurons among other slides. Until now, these little neurological machines, parts of George’s nervous system, were little more than an afterthought.

  “George,” the doctor continued. “These are your neurons. Let me show you a healthy, normal neuron,” he said, pointing to one of his textbooks. Afterward he motioned to the magnified images on the lightboard.

  “You see the ends, don’t you? Those are the axons of your nerves, George. See the way they are frayed here?” He stood above them with a caring but resigned expression.