Luke Marusiak - Lifeboat Moon

“I will.” He didn’t expect this. “I’m…” He looked at Sally for a hint of empathy. He took a deep breath and let it spill. “I’m having nightmares about suffocating.” He felt relief at naming his terror.

“So what?” Sally wasn’t having it. “Even Chuck went out there a day after getting the wires out of his teeth.” She lowered her gaze to the floor and shook her head. “I almost believed in you.”

“Hey.” Mark put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t give up on me.”

Sally looked up with a glance of pity, stood, and then exited Mark’s quarters. Mark stared at the closed door. An awful feeling of loneliness overwhelmed him.

Mark got a precious six hours of sleep before his contactor chimed. He slid out of his bunk, rubbed his eyes, and answered. “Captain… er… Major Martelli.”

“Mark, can I still call you Mark? I want to come over and cover the pod descent.” Thad’s voice came through with energetic enthusiasm.

“Yeah, give me twenty minutes.” Mark disconnected the call and stared in the mirror. He saw slackness in the skin of his face. He lifted his chin and traced his jawline. Mark couldn’t tell if it was the booze or the one-sixth earth gravity that accounted his aged look.

He ran precious droplets of water onto his sanitizer sponge, gave his body a quick once over, and dry-brushed his teeth with UV as disinfectant. Got to keep the viruses at bay. He popped open his consumables compartment and took out a bottle that held his morning ration of water. He drank his water, pulled on his jumpsuit, and looked in the mirror again. That’s better.

Captain Thaddeus Rudzinski showed up precisely twenty minutes after waking Mark. He was all business. “We have the pod coming down in six hours. I’m going out to place the beacons an hour before touchdown.”

Mark cleared his throat. “Thad, maybe it’s time I get out there.”

Thad shot Mark a wide-eyed look. “Why? I’ve done it before.”

Mark had braced himself to suit up and exit the moon base today. He didn’t feel ready but, after facing the brunt of Sally’s disappointment, he was going to force it. He stared at Thad’s eager gaze. This was a way out.

Thad made it easy for him. “Look, you’ve spotted something like twelve pod landings.” Thad’s admiration was a tonic.

“Eleven actually.”

“Well, I’ve done three and there’s only four orbiting supply pods left.”

“Why does that mean anything?”

“Because I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

“What’ve I done?”

“You trusted me to do the tough jobs you used to do. That’s given me visibility to the director and the ArmCon. That trust meant everything.”

Mark decided against correcting Thad’s impression. It wasn’t trust in you, it was my suffocation fear. “And landing this pod gives you more visibility?”

“Look, you’re third in command now. I need to be the visible guy. Let me do this.”

Mark didn’t need a big push. There was no reason for him to go out there today. It’s not like he wouldn’t get another chance. He smiled. “Okay Thad, you do the beacons for the supply pod.”

Chuck and Doug sat side by side in the control room staring at Moon Base Armstrong’s indicators. All was fine, nominal in the NASA vernacular. The base was running well and, with the addition of some crater-mined ice, could very well be the self-sustaining home the director imagined. Chuck turned to Doug. “I can’t let go of earth.”

Doug nodded. “None of us can. We’re all faking it. Even those with military bravado bullshit.” He snorted. “Especially those with military bravado bullshit.”

Chuck turned and faced the glowing displays. His eyes misted. “I keep waking up expecting to see Mia smiling at me. I expect to hear crickets chirp and see hummingbirds dart about.”

Doug frowned. “Chuck, you need to go easy on the virtual reality images of earth. That pulls you too deep into a lost past.”

“What the hell else was I supposed to do after Mark cracked my jaw?”

“There is that.” Doug licked his dry lips. “You think if it came to it, Mark could run the base?”

“No way. He hasn’t even suited up the last six weeks. If we were on earth and he refused the pool exercises for six weeks, he’d lose his spacewalk certification.”

“That promotion was show,” Doug concluded. “It was an excuse to celebrate after the director’s vaunted candor.”

“Candor?”

“Showing those views of earth. Did you see those images before the ceremony?”

“No but Doctor Zeke convinced me the earth was gone after I saw the orange earthrise.” He harrumphed. “That’s why I tampered with Mark’s air indicator.” He looked away. “It’s tough to go on.”

Doug shrugged. “The base wouldn’t have missed Mark. It’s a shame Sally saved him.”

“Nah — the problem’s not Mark. I just wanted to scare him. It looks like I did that job too well.” Chuck pointed to the hangar. “The problem is this cold, nasty-smelling place. I only came up here for a year-long tour. I didn’t plan on this being my prison.”

“You and me both brother. You and me both.” Doug frowned. “I signed up for two years… not this.” He nodded. “And I’m damn sure not going to salute those order-giving military types.”

“You have anyone up here?”

“You mean friends or family? No. My life was wiped out when earth was wiped out. It doesn’t matter if we survive up here. It doesn’t matter if we link up with Japan Station.” He shook his head again. “Nothing matters.”

“You have your pictures and videos of family, right?”

“I can’t look at them. I can’t even look at a picture of a tree anymore. I was the great environmentalist hacker and now I’m stranded on this barren rock.”

Chuck was surprised at Doug’s emotion. “We still have a chance to survive.”

“For what purpose? When you think of humanity’s place on the earth, we were an insignificant blip. Nothing special.”

“Yeah,” Chuck agreed.

The buzzer announced someone coming into the hangar from the Nexus. The two turned and saw Captain Thaddeus Rudzinski enter. Thad closed the hangar door, verified the seal, and with one graceful bound, alighted on the control room platform in front of Chuck and Doug.

“You’re doing the pod beacons?” Doug asked.

“You bet.” Thad grinned. “It’s a great view. Do you want to come out and watch it with me?”

“No thanks.”

Thad was early. He placed the spotting beacons as planned 300 meters from the solar array and waited. These beacons weren’t absolutely necessary. The pod could be remotely directed for descent but the beacons allowed a precision of the landing to the nearest meter.

He stood in the sunlight and marveled at the view of the sky. For all of the lost beauty of earth, there was transcendent celestial splendor from this vantage point. He tried to remember which scientist said that all the interesting parts of the universe were ionized plasma, everything else was just dead rock. He looked down and kicked up a white cloud of moon dust. Like the moon. But somehow between the ionized plasmas of the universe manifested in the spectacular spray of stars and the dead rock that was the moon, they were going to make it. They were going to save humanity.

Captain Thaddeus Rudzinski felt a measure of happiness. It wasn’t that he was glad earth was gone. But the loss wasn’t as devastating to him as it was to his colleagues. He looked in the direction of distant earth.