K Gillenwater: The Man in 14C: A Collection of Science Fiction Stories

“Lissa,” Carlos’s voice crackled in my headset. “Be careful.”

“You got it.” I waited for the lander to equalize with the moon’s atmosphere. I knew Carlos cared more about the water than my safe return, but I appreciated the sentiment. I pulled the lever to open the door and let the steps down. Although protected in my flight suit, I could sense the heat emanating off of the yellow surface beneath my feet.

I looked at the readout on my wrist. 129 degrees.

Hot.

Thank god my suit shielded me from the worst of it. As I looked out at the pools of still water several dozen feet in front of me, I marveled that they had not evaporated under the intense heat. However, after the research I’d done about this moon, I knew the hottest part of the day lasted only a few hours, at night, the cold swept in and froze most everything in its path. It took most of the daytime hours to thaw out the water. Underneath the surface the computer had detected a subterranean ocean of fresh water. Salinity levels could be detected through density scans.

I dragged the heavy suction hose to the closest pond and switched on the power. The drone of the pump soothed me. The water would quickly fill the holding tank, and I could return to our vessel. The quicker we finished this refill, the better. I shivered at the view in front of me. Beyond the pools rose a stark, dry mountain. Although it was daylight, the star that provided heat in this system penetrated easily through the thin atmosphere. The emptiness of space hovered above me. A dark weight.

I’d never felt this way about outer space before. I’d been all over the traveled parts of space in my job from colony to colony, moon to moon, from distant and near planets and back to Earth again. I enjoyed the feeling of soaring through space and the amazing beauty to be found beyond the obscuring skies at home. I had seen the glow of other galaxies, distant collapsing and birthing stars in all of their colors and wonder, and the vast black between that I could never describe to my sister when I returned home.

But here on this moon, the darkness terrified me. I felt isolated, alone, distant and lost. I wanted to leave this place. This desolate moon saved us and scared me all at the same time. Life-giving water on a dead planet. It saddened me.

The pump cut off.

The tank was full.

I trudged back to the lander and took my booty back to the ship. One trip complete. Three more to go.

My eyes were tired and dry. It had been a long shift of multiple trips back and forth from the moon. I was on my final trip.

Carlos’s voice crackled in my helmet, and the video kicked on. “Bet you could use some more coffee.” Carlos held up a steaming mug to the camera.

We’d been refraining from using the water to save what little we’d had left. But with our tanks almost refilled with fresh water from the moon, we’d made a pot of celebratory coffee after my last docking.

“Ah, now that’s good stuff.” Carlos took a gulp. “Better hurry back, Lissa, the pot’ll be empty soon.” He flashed a smile.

I quoted General Puckett’s famous lines from the last World War, “’Retreat. Regroup. Return. Revenge.’ You’d better make a second pot. I expect a hot mug in my hand the minute I dock.” If he could’ve seen me, I would’ve shaken my fist in fury, just like the General had, to emphasize my threat.

The water we’d picked up tasted 100 times better than what we’d been drinking from our closed water loop system on The Gemini . The coffee I’d had when I returned to the ship had been divine.

“Gotcha. Cream, right?”

“Right. And none of that manufactured stuff from the rations.” I dragged the hose back out to the clear, quiet pool. “Break out the real thing.”

Carlos gave me a salute and then cut out.

I set the hose deep into the pool. The deep blue color mesmerized me. Reflecting some of the thin atmosphere, but also picking up the dark of space beyond. Tired, I took a seat on a boulder near the edge and waited for the tank to fill.

After 30 minutes or so my mind felt hazy. I had a headache. I needed to sleep. How many hours had I been awake?

A ripple echoed across the water’s surface. Concentric circles from a center point about 5 yards out. Not lunar winds.

My heart leaped in my chest.

The scans of the moon had shown no life. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. The ripple died.

“Carlos.” I pressed the communication button on my wrist with a clumsy, padded finger.

A pencil-thin, snake-like creature skated across the water’s surface toward me.

I focused my gaze on it. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

“Carlos.” I could hear my voice grow reedy.

The video inside my helmet switched on.

The alien creature swirled and dipped in the water, keeping its distance. Its white body lithe in the clear water.

“Did you run the water through the filtration system?” Fear coursed through me. We’d done the scans. We’d followed the protocol. The computer had detected nothing. The moon was supposed to be devoid of life. The water pristine and uncontaminated.

Carlos sat in the command chair, expressionless.

“Can you hear me?”

The alien danced across the surface, swirling closer to my position at the pool’s edge, then twisting away. It had no eyes, no visible mouth. No identifiable features.

Carlos stared into the camera. His mouth slack.

“Carlos! Talk to me. There’s alien life down here.” The slender, white thing twisted into a ball and then flung itself backward, diving deep into the pool. I switched off the pump, yanked the hose out of the pool, and scrambled backward with the heavy hose in my hands. “Tell me you sent the water through the filtration unit. Please.”

My partner wouldn’t respond. His body jerked.

The headache that had been a dull pain when I arrived earlier, grew into something much worse. My legs grew weak. I fell to the moon’s surface. “Carlos!”

My partner’s face grew pale, as white as the alien swirling in the water. He gurgled. Blood dripped from his nose.

The pain in my head exploded.

I thought of my sister back on Earth. When she’d handed me that silly picture of the dinosaur in someone’s backyard. A creature out of place. A creature in a world where he didn’t belong.

My eyesight faded. I stared up at the emptiness of space and marveled at the innumerable dots of light and wondered which one was Earth. My home.

Contest prompt:This is K.J.’s entry for the #HeartGoesLastFic contest on Wattpad. She had to create a backstory for a secondary character in Margaret Atwood’s novel, “The Heart Goes Last.” She chose Lucinda Quant as her character: A reality TV star who interviews people being evicted from their homes in the near-future after a societal collapse. What led to her dismissal as a big TV news anchor?

Lucinda Quantillo-Hermosa knew she’d have to change her name. No one in the TV business had any interest in hiring a news anchor with such a name. News anchors needed to be stereotypes – blonde and ballsy. She might not be blonde, but she sure had balls.

Lucinda had fought her way out of the poor and dumpy neighborhood she’d been born into on the outskirts of the city. Always within eyesight of the more glamorous life of the rich and powerful. They passed by her apartment block in their Town Cars and limousines as they made their way from the airport to their penthouses tucked safely inside the high rent district.

Their kids went to the ‘good’ schools. Not the public schools that doled out education like castor oil—only one small spoonful a day. No, the rich and famous would never subject their precious progeny to likes of P.S. Number 155 – Lucinda’s alma mater.