Luke Marusiak - Lifeboat Moon

That discovery wasn’t made by investigation. Art sent a time-delayed email, just before suffocating, that detailed it all — the check valves, the culling plan, the use of humans as carbon based fertilizer. Art sent his email to the full crew and copied Japan Station. Mark reeled from these blows. Every time he grasped a thread of hope, something overwhelming happened that took a blowtorch to residual plants of confidence. Art’s email was that blowtorch.

Sally and Thad secured the quarters adjacent to Art. Since Art manually opened the check valve they couldn’t remotely close it. There was no choice but to lock Art in his final resting place. Mark used the barrel key to permanently seal Art’s quarters.

“Art’s a permanent vacuum embalmed mummy,” Sally said to Mark after he sealed the quarters.

The email traffic in the base’s crew surged with angry defiant threats and demands for explanation. Art’s death was accompanied by rumors of sabotage. Faith in the future wore thin with all of Moon Base Armstrong’s crew.

“Call for an assembly,” Mark told Doug over the intercom. “We need to lay everything out.”

“Yes sir.” Doug’s deadpan answer grated.

“Mark,” Zeke grabbed his friend’s arm. “What are you going to tell the crew?”

“The truth,” Mark answered. “They deserve to know why the director and ArmCon were killed.”

“You don’t know the truth.”

“I know enough. I read the post-gamma ray burst plan yesterday. I don’t know how Art got it but it all makes sense.”

“What? What makes sense?”

“The despair you’re so worried about.”

The crew assembled for the third time in a week and newly minted Major Mark Martelli was numb. He dreaded explaining the outrageous culling plan he had just read himself. He wondered how to motivate the group. He wanted to highlight that Thad and Zeke would be his right hand assistant commanders but feared that’d look like picking favorites — the same thing the culling plan did. Those not picked or on good terms would wonder if they were tagged as insignificant as Art Sledge.

The assembly resembled the same assortment as when Mark stood at the podium to address the pod crash. The commander for a week stared at the crew and mustered his nerve. This was about more than motivation. It was about human survival. He apprised his leaders.

Zeke Ben-Ami again sat across from the podium with Chuck and Doug on one side of Zeke and Thad and Sally on the other side. The Manufacturing Pod crew in the second row was now headed by Brexton Little with Gitty Chatterjee and Jim Staid beside him. Beside Jim was Agricultural Pod’s Tina Bennet.

Mark noted the absences from the last assembly. Manufacturing Pod head, Jerry Papadopoulos, was with his colleague and Zeke’s companion Habibeh Rahimi in Japan Station. Also absent from the assembly in the most conspicuous manner of all was Shift Supervisor Arthur Sledge — now an eternal relic of Moon Base Armstrong. The crew, the majority of existing humanity, all buzzed about the man who killed himself due to insignificance.

“Thank you for assembling so quickly,” Mark began. “I know you’ve got a lot of questions and I’ll provide what answers I can.”

The murmuring quieted. Mark apprised gazes that ranged from blank, to sullen, to hopeful. “Art Sledge is dead. He suffocated by opening a crew quarters check valve after finding out about a post gamma ray burst plan.”

There was a rising hum of consternation in the assembly. “Let him talk,” Brexton commanded. The group quieted down again.

“Thank you. Art’s email indicated there were plans to cull the crew down to forty-five and use those killed for fertilizer. That’s true and it’s a plan I just saw for the first time myself yesterday — before the Japan Station visit.”

“Bullshit!” a voice from the back resonated.

“He’s telling the truth,” Brexton said. “I helped Major Martelli get the plans from my father’s — the ArmCon’s — quarters. The director and ArmCon had this secret plan and only those two were supposed to know about it.”

“Then how did Art find out?” A crewmember asked.

“Who cares about that? Our leaders planned to kill us in our sleep and use us for fertilizer,” another said.

“Quiet please!” Mark used his command voice. “I called this assembly to get everything out in the open. That’s what I plan to do. Please stop interrupting and, when I finish, we’ll spend as much time as you want to answer questions.” The room calmed but Mark noted the once blank expressions were now angry. “I’m going to say this with unequivocal certainty. This culling plan is off the table. It will never happen with me in charge.” He turned to Zeke. “Doctor Ezekiel Ben-Ami, you’re one of our leaders. Would you permit this?”

Zeke started. “Never. I will never allow this to happen in my purview.”

Mark turned to Thad. “Captain Thaddeus Rudzinski, you’re another one of our leaders. Would you permit this?”

“No,” Thad answered. “Each and every one of us is precious. We’re all in this together.”

In like manner Mark polled Shift Manager Sally Ride Henderson, Shift Manager Douglas Graham, Shift Supervisor Charles ‘Chuck’ Tully, Manufacturing Pod’s Brexton Little, Gitty Chatterjee, and Jim Staid as well as Agriculture Pod Manager Tina Bennet. The poll was a formal declaration of loyalty — loyalty to the human race.

Mark pulled out the remote controlled battery-beacon assembly and held it high for the crew to see. “This is what caused the pod crash. We found it when we went to the backside of Shackleton Crater and removed debris from the destroyed Habitation Tube One. It was placed under the director’s desk and directed the pod like a missile.”

This was new news to most of the crew. The sound in the Nexus dropped and all that could be heard was the light buzz of the ventilation system. The gazes turned wide-eyed. “We believe Art Sledge, after he found out about the director’s secret culling plan, planted this beacon.”

A collective groan emanated from the crew. They all realized the precarious predicament the pod crash caused was due to sabotage. The director’s now condemned culling plans may have doomed some of humanity to oblivion, but the pod crash threatened to erase them all.

“I wish Art would’ve talked to me or Zeke or one of our other leaders,” Mark said. “We’re either going to survive or perish as a group. You have my commitment and heard the other leader’s commitment — we’re in this together. Our long term survival relies on the cave we found. We’re going to reorganize our routines and tasks to relocate our equipment and occupy the cave. There’re a lot of unknowns and we’ll need the best from each and every one of you. Look left and right. Your colleagues, this crew, is the only thing we have to rely on to secure our survival. All of us must pull together.” The assembly ended with a few more questions but, in the main, Mark got everyone on the same page.

Zeke, Thad, and Brexton accosted Mark after the crew dispersed. “How did you conclude it was Art who sabotaged the pod decent?” Zeke asked.

“He had motive, means, and opportunity.” Mark replied with the standard crime threesome. “Who else could it be?”

Japan Station’s leadership, Director Katsumi Hayashi and Captain Yumi Kaneko, weren’t happy with the delay in the update from Moon Base Armstrong. Both Katsumi and Yumi expressed their displeasure to Mark on the inter-base communications phone. Mark, Zeke, Thad, Sally, Brexton, and Chuck huddled over the speaker connected to the Japan Station link. It was apparent the Japan Station leadership weren’t happy to be addressing the assembled crowd.