Luke Marusiak - Lifeboat Moon

Rhythms like seasons or tides had driven human behavior since ancient times. Even when earthbound society became so computerized as to forget the seasonal cycles, the day itself provided an alternating bright and dark pulse that was the source and motive force of all life. The artificial environment of Moon Base Armstrong disturbed that fundamental ebb and flow of life’s vibrance and of the understanding of the human emotional cycle.

Mark tried, along with Zeke, to formulate a new rhythm for their new life. They needed a cycle based on the reality before them. Chinese scientists, either for spiritual or practical concerns, highlighted their base’s location on the moon’s equator as providing rhythmic fourteen day light-dark cycles for their colony to adapt.

The gamma ray burst destroyed most of life on earth, the earth’s atmosphere, and any other life exposed to its deadly radioactive burst. But it did something else. The gamma ray burst also destroyed the remnant of humanity’s connection with natural cycles.

The Moon Base Armstrong and Japan Station crews followed a day sleep cycle as a matter of necessity and custom. They used time segments of seconds, minutes, hours, days, and weeks as a matter of convention. All these earth cycle based measures weren’t connected to anything the survivors could see and feel.

“Companionship is key,” Mark said. “The loneliness led to Art’s despair.” He clasped Sally’s hands. “I’m glad you let me stay in your quarters last night. We should share space. We need to lean on each other.”

Sally nodded and smiled. “I’d like that.”

“You’re right. Companionship is key,” Zeke said. He had joined the couple at Mark’s request. “I can’t wait until Habi gets back. We should pair up everyone in Moon Base Armstrong.”

“I agree,” Sally said. “But there’s more. We’re all tied to instinctual ebbs and flows that only exist in recollection.”

Zeke nodded. “The longer we stay here the less of a connection we have to those recollections of cycles, to our memories of seasons.”

“We need to establish new cycles. NASA never figured this out. Before the gamma ray burst even orbiting space stations had days and nights. Our unchanging perpetual day here at Shackleton Crater is taking an unexpected toll.” Mark said.

“That and the continuing reminder with the orange earthrise that life on earth is gone,” Zeke said.

“And the fact that existence is so uncertain,” Sally added. “We don’t know if we’ll survive this.”

Mark moved beside Sally. “We have a future. We can’t doubt.”

“I won’t show my doubt to the crew,” Sally said. “But you know I’m anxious. We’ve absorbed body blow after body blow of disasters.”

“You’re right,” Mark said. “Any sane person would have their doubts.”

“It’s not passive force causing all this,” Zeke said. “The gamma ray burst was the unexpected. Every other disaster has been created… by us.” He looked at Mark. “Including the culling plan.”

“We need to include the crew in a conversation of how to change,” Mark said. “We need to evolve into a different organization with different schedules — different cycles.”

“First, we need stability,” Zeke said. “The work on the cave has motivated those involved. But those not doing constructive survival work are at high risk.”

“Like the Manufacturing Pod crew.” Sally said. “I also feel it in the control room. Unless the crew were on Thad or Jim’s away teams, they were confined to their quarters. They’re probably all wondering about our survival.”

“That’s right,” Mark said. “We should be able to enter the Manufacturing Pod by now.” He stood and went to the intercom. “Doug, what’s the pressure in the Manufacturing Pod?”

“Mark this is Chuck. Doug’s on his food break. I’ll check on that pressure.” After a pause he came back. “The pressure’s at 760 Torr… it’s ready for entry.”

“Good. I’m here with Sally and Zeke. Log that we’re going to inspect the crack Gitty sealed.”

“Will do.”

“We should take our portable oxygen,” Sally said. “Doug thinks the slightest vibration could reopen that crack.”

“Sounds good.” Mark grabbed his portable oxygen helmet. “We should also take sealant.”

“I’ve got that,” Zeke said. “I’ll bring twice the quantity Gitty used to seal the length of the crack.”

The three donned their gear and went into Habitation Tube Two. At the hatch to the Manufacturing Pod, they ran into Doug. “What are you doing here?” Mark asked. “Chuck said you were on a food break.”

“I was,” Doug replied. “I wanted to see how the Manufacturing Pod looked.”

Mark, Zeke, and Sally all had light helmets on in case the Manufacturing Pod depressurized while they were inside. The helmets and oxygen couldn’t protect them from a full instant breach, but they’d be able to work through a hissing leak, even if severe. Doug was only in his NASA jumpsuit. “Did you go inside like that?” Mark asked.

“No, I just looked.” He shrugged. “Not much to see from the window.” Doug turned to Sally. “Chuck told me he checked out the Manufacturing Pod before he came on shift. He said he wasn’t sure about Gitty’s seal.”

“He said that after looking through the window?” Zeke asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know what he was talking about.” Doug grinned. “I’ll let you professionals to it. I’m going back to the control room.”

Mark watched Doug depart. “That was odd.”

“What are you thinking?” Sally asked.

“Why was he here?”

Zeke was already at the Manufacturing Pod hatch. “All three of us can go through the double door at the same time if we stand side by side.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mark responded. The three lined up and Sally pushed the hatch button for the first door. They took a step into the lock between doors, waited for the door to close behind them, and then opened the inner Manufacturing Pod hatch.

The three stepped into the large quiet room. Lights were still on, a function of solar supplied power and multi-year reliable LED lights. Mark looked around at the equipment. There were large 3D printers, mini-mills, and racks of components. On the far side were regolith rocks and chemical separators they used to produce raw material. One thing was true. If they were to have any chance at all, they needed a well-run Manufacturing Pod, either here or in the cave.

“Mark you’ve got to see this,” Zeke said from the sealed crack.

Mark looked and tried to register what Sally and Zeke pointed to. There was a heavy duty box below the Manufacturing Pod crack at floor level. From the center of the box protruded a wedge shaped piece of metal.

“This leak wasn’t an accident,” Sally said. Her voice was devoid of emotion. “Someone caused the leak that nearly killed Jim. Someone caused the leak that set us back weeks in manufacturing our moon buggy and silica magnesium bricks.”

“What?” Mark struggled to understand.

“It wasn’t Art Sledge,” Zeke added. “Art was a sealed up mummy by the time this happened.”

“Zeke give me your sealant,” Sally said as she crouched by the box. “I’m going to remove this.”

Zeke handed over the large tube. Sally opened the end, yanked the heavy-duty box away from the seal, and applied sealant to the area she removed the box from. “This should keep it sealed.”

“I’m going to inspect that seal from top to bottom with this combination infrared black light,” Zeke said.

“What’s that do?”

“It’ll illuminate cracks in Gitty’s seal.” Zeke moved the inspection light from the ceiling and moved it down to the floor. “She did a good job considering how fast she worked. I’m going to reinforce it.” Zeke took the sealant tube from Sally and layered overlapping sections of sealant onto the seam. He stepped back satisfied. “We can take our helmets off. This is stronger than a regular hull seal.”