Salvador Mercer: Lunar Discovery

“Agreed,” Craig said. “Good luck.”

Julie secured the door and checked the pressure. She decided not to risk the chance of the cracked glass breaking, reinforced though it was, and left her suit on. Strapping in, she moved the lever forward and turned the rover due west towards a dark peak line in the distance silhouetted and blocking out the stars. If the coordinates were correct the Chinese lander would be just on the other side of that ridge line.

The trip was uneventful and Julie only had to back the rover up once to go around a draw in the ridge line that threatened to tip it over. After cresting the ridge she could visually make out a faint pinprick of light far out onto one of the many flat and barren lunar plains that composed the majority of the moon’s surface. It was farther than she thought and she was glad she had grabbed a spare battery module. With determination she pushed the vehicle lever forward and started towards the light.

Crimson Glory

Lunar Surface, Marianas Plain

In the near future, Day 48

The alarm chime had rang for the last time as Hen Sing had muted the audible signal warning him of low oxygen levels, and he had used his last dose of morphine an hour earlier. He practically slept waiting for the return of the Chinese orbiter and the call from Beijing.

For some reason, he had turned off most of the unnecessary electrical equipment to conserve energy, but he had left the overhead visual locater beacon on. It served almost no purpose other than a visual identifier, and out here, there was almost nothing except the camera on the orbiter to identify his lander. The oversight saved his life.

His first indication that something was amiss was when the area outside his viewpoint slowly illuminated. Sing could not move to look out, and the angle at which he was looking afforded a view of only stars until a helmeted head appeared in the viewport, looking in with small portable lights on either side to the top shining in on him. The lights made Sing wince, and he squinted, hoping his eyes would adjust as he held an arm up against them.

The outside figure turned its head, and then the lights went out and the figure motioned to the door handle. Sing wasn’t sure what the sudden appearance of the suited figure meant, but it was obvious it wanted inside. Sing checked his coms and called over the main communications channel, but there was no answer. The figure stood silently, framed in the viewport, waiting patiently.

Sing reached for his helmet, putting it on and latching the neck collar, and then grabbed for his gloves, putting each on in turn. Then the cramped quarters also saved his life as he reached for the depressurization switch that would make the inside of his lander equal to the pressure outside on the moon, zero. Had he been forced to reach or move more than an arm’s length, he could not have activated it.

When the indicator showed clear reaching equilibrium with the vacuum of space, he gave the universal thumbs-up symbol to the suited figure and looked at the door handle. Slowly it moved, shimmying at first and then coming all the way up once the figure understood which way to move it to open the door. The door opened completely and, half illuminated from bright lights to its right, Sing could see the patch of the United States of America. The Americans had arrived.

“Craig, am I still patched in to Apollo ’s transceiver?”

“Yes, Jules, same as when you left. You are linked it; just push to talk,” Craig said.

“ Blackjack mobile to Houston, do you copy?” Julie said, excitement in her voice.

“ Blackjack mobile, this is Houston. Go ahead, over.”

“Houston, be advised that I’ve retrieved a Chinese astronaut from the targeted coordinates and am inbound to Apollo . Chinese astronaut is alive. Do you copy, Houston? He is alive.”

There was a long pause as the information not only relayed for nearly three seconds with the speed of light delay but as Houston processed the information. Julie was sure they weren’t expecting him to be alive and neither was she, but there he was. She had dragged him to the rear of the rover and put him inside the compartment, strapping him in and pointing to the button to pressurize it. She feared at first that he wouldn’t understand, and his grimace of pain was more than enough information to demonstrate that not only his legs were broken but something else as well. She had waited long enough to see that he indeed did activate the pressurization, and she didn’t wait to see if he would de-suit or not. She got in and started driving back, using the low gain antenna to contact Apollo and relay her signal.

“Roger, Julie.” Rock’s voice came back steady. “Message understood and authorization to continue the extraction procedure is still authorized. Continue on mission.”

Julie hit a bump and slowed down a bit as she imagined the pain that may have caused her passenger. “Houston, do you have solution on the fuel shortage?”

The question was a hard one to ask, and her actions were most likely all for naught. Save the Chinese astronaut so he could die with them? Wouldn’t that be better than dying alone? She speculated, trying to rationalize her seemingly futile actions.

“Based on the data from Apollo , you are at fifty-six percent fuel capacity. Ninety percent is necessary for return to Apollo orbit and… sixty-five percent necessary to intercept Russian craft in retro orbit. Do you copy?”

Julie gasped. She had thought of the Gordust as a last resort, but now the fuel figures showed that they would not be able to reach its orbit. They were stranded. “Copy, Houston, keep us posted. Over and out.”

Julie clicked off the mike, not wanting to let the emotions in her voice be conveyed nor to make the mission team feel any worse on the ground. The work of retrieving the Chinese body, now alive, though it was thought that he would be dead by now, was busybody work to buy Houston time to run the figures and work out a solution.

She heard Craig call her on their low gain system so it would be a private chat. “You copy that, Jules?”

“Yeah, Craig, we’re SOL, and time’s running out.”

“Is that guy really alive?”

“Oh yeah, he wasn’t moving much till I dragged him out of his lander, but the pain definitely got his attention. He’s got both legs broken, and maybe more. I’m surprised he had enough oxygen for this long, not to mention living with injuries.” Talking about the poor condition of her passenger seemed to take her mind off of her own plight.

“So what’s the plan, Jules?”

“I’ll get back, and then we load our guest in the lander and wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For what we always wait for. For Houston to pull a rabbit out of its hat.”

“Well, that better be one big fucking rabbit,” Craig said, not hearing Julie’s hysterical laughter.

NASA Space Center

Houston, Texas

In the near future, Day 48

“What are you talking about, Marge?” Rock asked, looking at his second in command with his eyes arched and his hands on his hips.

The entire mission team had all but huddled around Rock’s main command module, crowding the space entirely and making Mr. Smith and Mrs. Brown look more than a little uncomfortable.

“Our handlers there need to get the Russian president on the line and make this happen.” Marge shot them a look and put her own hands on her own hips, a stance displaying more than a bit of defiance.

“I’m not so sure we can do that,” Mr. Smith said, returning the look. “They are still recovering from the bombing of their space command center.”