Salvador Mercer - Lunar Discovery

“You’ve seen the orders from over a month ago. Commander Antov is in charge of all lunar activity. We just fly this big pig,” Yuri said, looking sideways at his copilot and allowing a smile to cross his face.

The Gordust wasn’t even remotely aerodynamic looking, but it didn’t matter. Pig was as good as any description for the station, which had several modifications made to it. A hundred years earlier in the lexicon of U.S. Americana, it would have been called a jalopy. As long as it responded to his input commands, Yuri didn’t care.

“Yes, but you’re in charge until they do detach. Can’t you delay for even one orbit so we can get an accurate fix on our trajectory?”

“I’m afraid not, Olga. Kto ne riskuet, ne pyot champagnye. He who takes no risks, drinks no champagne.”

“I was afraid you’d say something like that,” Olga responded without looking at Yuri. It would be a very intense trip.

People’s Republic Space Command

Beijing, China

In the near future, Day 46

“Coming around now, sir,” Lin said, tracking the orbiter as it started back around the dark side of the moon. “Cameras activated, coms ready.”

“Try to raise Colonel Sing,” Hun ordered.

“Beijing Control to Crimson Glory , do you copy?” Lin said, taking over the radio communications from the fairly inexperienced prior technician who stood next to Lin.

The reaction was immediate before they could even receive the video feed. “ Glory , do you read me?”

“He must have been transmitting earlier,” Lin said, looking at her display.

Hun knew it would take two and a half seconds for their signal to reach the moon and get back to them, so Sing was already trying to raise them. “Get the visual onscreen as soon as you can,” Hun said.

The moon was full as seen from the earth, so the far side was facing away from both the earth and the sun. They would have their cameras searching for the device as well as Sing on the thermal band using infrared.

“We read you loud and clear,” Lin said, her eyes darting from console to screen and back. “Can you give us a report?”

Sing’s voice sounded calm, and for some reason, there seemed to be almost no static despite the constant barrage of radio waves coming from the alien device. “ Crimson Glory went long. Location unknown. Equipment status unknown. Personal status inoperable. Broken legs, broken pelvis, and possibly broken spine, over.”

The room once again was hushed as Lin looked to Hun for guidance. Hun nodded at her to say something. Lin opened her mike. “Report received. Standby, Crimson Glory .”

“Get me his location.” Hun barked the order.

Chon and three other technicians were pouring over the video feed and widening the search when the first five kilometer block came up with no heat signatures. The actual alien device glimmered a pale orange as it put off heat, but not anything intense, and it was still currently localized to the one location.

After what seemed like minutes but was only seconds, a technician nearly shouted, “I have him. Grid twelve, longitude delta.”

“Delta twelve,” Chon said, pulling the picture up and streaming it to the main console on the wall.

Hun looked at the Crimson Glory in false infrared color. “My God,” he exclaimed, looking at the lander from what appeared to be a side shot even though the camera from the main orbiter was farther overhead. It looked like it was lying almost completely on its side. Two of its four support legs were broken and strewn across the landscape along with smaller pieces of the craft.

“Thirty seconds,” Lin said, referring to the amount of time they had to communicate with Sing. They were already bouncing the radio signal off of one of the older Indian communications satellites that they had contracted the use of after losing their primary one.

“Inform the colonel that we’re working on the problem and will get back to him on the orbiter’s far side,” Hun said, referring to the fact that coms would be reestablished once the secondary module cleared the far side of the moon and was once again within the visual arc of the earth. There were two short periods on either side when this occurred for only a few moments each hour and a half. They would have to work quickly to save their mission. Colonel Sing had his death warrant signed once he separated the lander and destroyed the docking collar. Now the question was would his death be in vain?

General Wang watched the events as they unfolded from his military command and control room outside of Beijing. The space technicians thought he was in their building, but that was only true half the time. He had a complete surveillance system installed in the space control center and monitored their progress remotely.

He picked up the phone and asked for the premier. After a heated discussion, he hung up and looked at his chief aide, Major Jiayang. “Initiate Operation Steel Fist. Load the nuclear warhead immediately.”

Major Jiayang began relaying orders via her command and control console to various military assets. If the Chinese couldn’t obtain the alien device, then no one would.

General Wang hoped this wouldn’t start a world war.

NASA Space Center

Houston, Texas

In the near future, Day 46

“Any luck so far?” Rock asked, poking his head in through the doorway where Marge and Jack worked together in a side room off of the main control room. The control room had less than half the normal contingent of operators for the mission as the main crew was off duty in preparation for the lunar arrival.

“Not yet,” Jack said, peering at a string of code displayed on their small laptop.

“You’d think they would give us a larger view screen,” Marge chimed in.

Rock nodded as he entered the room and pulled up a chair. “State security and all,” he said.

“Something like that,” Marge said without looking up again. “What’s so odd is that from the data stream, all the NSA analysts, as well as the super computers they have working the problem, seem to be focused on a mathematical solution.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Rock asked.

“Well, nothing really, Rock, but so far we’ve had access to the data stream for a few weeks now and not even one part of the information has been decoded, deciphered, or translated. It makes me wonder if we’re barking up the wrong tree, so to speak.”

“Didn’t your SETI principles state that the foundation for any communication with extraterrestrial life would most likely be based on mathematics as a form of universal communication?” Rock asked.

“They did, but I’ve gone over the data, and between the NSA, academia, and quantum super computers, they pretty much covered every mathematical formula of any import known to man.” Marge looked at Rock.

“So Marge had an idea,” Jack said, a grin across his face.

“Doesn’t she always?” Rock smiled back at Jack.

“Go ahead, Marge, tell the man,” Jack prompted her.

“Well, if it isn’t a mathematical equation, then I am led to believe we have to look at three other areas. The first would be chemical compositions,” Marge said, punching up a spreadsheet where she had started to track the variables relating to the data. “The next would be genetic information relative to all lifeforms, and the final one would be cosmic geography, so to speak.”

“What the hell do you mean by cosmic geography?” Rock asked.

“It would be like a road map where the ETs left a way to track their location to save their home planet,” Marge said.