Luke Marusiak - Lifeboat Moon

“Do you resent us for trying to survive?”

“I resent calling existence on this barren rock survival.”

Sally didn’t like her task but Zeke and Mark insisted. She was no shrink. There wasn’t a sure way to tell what anyone thought or believed. She doubted Chuck was trying to destroy the moon base but she had no idea how to prove it. Zeke’s revelation that Japan Station was the next supply pod target chilled her to the core. She absorbed that mind-bending news as she listened to the conversation in progress.

“Hope is an ephemeral thing up here,” Chuck said. “You grasp a thread of hope and then you wonder what Houston would think and bam… it hits you in the solar plexus. Houston’s gone. The earth’s gone. We’re all alone.”

“We have 128 people left in Moon Base Armstrong,” Zeke replied. “That’s bigger than the group that signed the Mayflower Compact when they hit Plymouth Rock.”

Chuck nodded and turned to Sally. “What do you think of this?”

“Our chances?”

“No Zeke’s inane questions psychoanalyzing me.”

Sally started. If Chuck saw right through Zeke’s questions what chance did Mark have with Doug? “What?”

“Are you in on it too?” Chuck snickered. “Look, we all had a modicum of intelligence to be picked for this crew. You guys are obviously fishing for something.”

Zeke glared at Chuck. “You knowingly sabotaged Mark’s air supply. You have to be more forthcoming.”

“Forthcoming? Mark broke my jaw over that and Sally got me to shake his hand afterwards. There’s nothing I’ve done in Moon Base Armstrong, good or bad, that you don’t know about.”

“What about the culling plan?” Sally asked.

“What about it?”

“When did you know?”

“When did I know the director designated some of us as fertilizer? When Art sent his email to the crew.”

“Not before?”

“No,” Chuck answered. “What are you getting at?”

“How did Art know about the plan?”

Chuck stared at the control room monitor for a long moment. “There’s only one way — Doug would’ve told him.”

“How did Doug get a copy?”

“He must’ve stole it.”

“We should check the logs,” Zeke said, “for file transfers. Mark said the post gamma ray burst plan file he got from the ArmCon’s quarters was encrypted. Only having the original would’ve given someone access. That type of copying could only be done here or in the University Pod. There’s no way this was done in the University Pod. It had to be here.”

“You still think I did this,” Chuck said. “You think I was the one that got Art to go over the edge?”

“Help me find the logs and get to the bottom of this.”

Sally stared at Zeke and Chuck. She understood the frayed dynamic of the crew. There were those clinging to hope and those who weren’t.

“You’re starting too far back,” Chuck said as he peered over Zeke’s shoulder.

“I’m starting with the logs right after the gamma ray burst. I’ll filter for file transfers.”

“There were thousands of file transfers since then.”

“I’ll filter for file transfers to external devices. That ought to narrow it down.”

Sally wanted to stop this madness. She wanted to rest, she wanted to sleep, and she wanted to… give herself utterly and totally to Mark. That was it. That was her thread of hope. She felt love for the man whom she pulled unconscious from the load lock weeks ago. She felt love for the man who conquered her. Well, conquered wasn’t the right word but it captured the idea.

When Mark took her it wasn’t like any of her other sexual experiences. It wasn’t for pleasure. It was pleasurable of course but it was something more. There was a purposeful yielding that she had always guarded against. She gave herself to his power and felt lifted to heights she’d never known. And afterwards, before the Manufacturing Pod leak interrupted their embrace, she lay with her head on Mark’s chest in a sublime contentment.

The two said little afterwards but what they did say spoke volumes. Sally whispered to Mark something she’d never said before. She said, ‘I’m yours.’ Those words were a blissful surrender to the moment and to the man. There was purpose, direction, and a path to the future in those simple words. Those two words closed off a path to every other man alive. That was the surrender. But the exclusivity was also empowering.

Was it supposed to be that way? She didn’t know and didn’t care. The exclusive love she felt — so contrary to the director’s breeding plan — defined a definite path and a definite future. She thought of a future not barren and alone but full with love, companionship, and children.

Maybe that was the whole basis for the social contract before birth control. The surrender was conditional on the highest commitment a couple could make — a commitment to raise a family together. That was the bright thread of hope, firm and strong. She saw a family with Mark. She turned to the control panel. As long as they found the saboteur.

“What’s that?” Chuck asked. He sat beside Zeke, hands on his knees, as Zeke worked at the terminal.

“What?”

“That copy there.” Chuck pointed to the screen. “Four weeks after the gamma ray burst.”

“It’s the director’s daily brief,” Zeke said. “The ArmCon made a daily file transfer from the server for Director Collier.”

“But look at the detail. Embedded in the daily report was a file.”

“I’ll open the hidden file properties.” Zeke tapped the screen and then stopped. He frowned. “What the?”

“Two,” Chuck said. “That embedded file was copied to an external device twice. I don’t think that’s what the ArmCon had in mind.”

“Who?” Sally asked. “Who copied that particular daily report?”

“It was Doug,” Zeke answered. “He copied the daily but made two copies of this embedded file.”

“It was Doug,” Chuck said. “That makes sense.”

“Are you sure it was the post gamma ray burst plan that had the culling contingency?” Sally asked.

“I can check,” Zeke said. “Mark opened the encrypted version and would know what to look for. I’m going to call him.”

“Doug calls himself an environmentalist and maybe he was,” Chuck said, “but don’t forget why he was picked for this crew. He’s the best coder in Moon Base Armstrong.”

“I’m calling Mark,” Zeke said. “We have to be sure.”

Mark entered the control room and assessed the group. He’d gotten nothing of substance from Doug. Mark and Doug played mental ping pong for over an hour. The most Mark got out of the discussion was that Doug hated it here. He had little reason for hope. Mark saw the three in the control room — Zeke, Sally, and Chuck — turn at his entrance.

“We found something,” Zeke said.

Mark came beside him. “Show me.”

“About four weeks ago the ArmCon’s daily report to the director had an embedded file. We discovered that Doug made two copies of this file for external devices.”

“Just now? We’re just now seeing this breach in protocol?” Mark balled a fist.

“It’s always the human element,” Chuck said. “It’s always about trust.”

“That’s right,” Sally said staring at Mark. “If someone you trust betrays you, all is lost.”

“This embedded file was extracted and encrypted only when the copies were made.” Zeke pointed to the file properties screen.

“Mark was the encryption password specific to the ArmCon?” Sally asked.

“Yes,” Mark answered. “I needed the ArmCon’s son Brexton to come up with it.”