Read Moonbase Crisis: Star Challengers Book 1 Online
Authors: Rebecca Moesta,Kevin J. Anderson,June Scobee Rodgers
Ten
After Dyl and Chief Ansari identified the approximate location of the recent meteor impact, JJ and King were assigned to accompany Major Fox out to retrieve the fallen star. Not actually a fallen “star,” of course. The meteorite was just a lump of rock that had been drifting around in space since the formation of the solar system.
King started singing “Catch a Falling Star,” but stopped when he noticed JJ’s impatience. “Why are you so excited to go outside?”
“Who wouldn’t be? Yesterday was amazing. And this time we’ll ride in a sort of ATV bounding along on the lunar surface. Someone has to go find that meteor—and that someone is going to be
us!”
King grinned. “When you put it that way, I can’t wait to get going either.” He hummed while they suited up.
This time, they passed through the ESM airlock directly into the enclosed modular rover, which was connected to the wall of the base.
“If necessary, we can pressurize this vehicle,” Major Fox explained. “That would be called a shirtsleeve environment. For the moment, though, we’re just taking a little excursion to the far crater wall. We’ll keep our suits on.”
“Do you ever take longer expeditions?” JJ was already thinking that she, Dyl, and their friends might be at Moonbase Magellan for awhile. If so, she hoped there would be more outings like this. “How much air and fuel does this rover carry?”
“That would depend on the mission requirements,” Fox answered. “We don’t simply go on a Sunday drive.”
“Why not?” King pressed. “You said you have plenty of hydrogen fuel. There’s the whole Moon to explore, and you have a lot of time on your hands.”
“We have a lot of
work
on our hands. Going out for a jaunt does not fit in with our mission requirements. In any case, with full supplies, this rover can support a crew of three for up to fifteen days.”
After sealing the airlock hatch behind them and enclosing the modular rover, King sat up front with Fox and JJ sat behind them. When they detached the vehicle from the base and began rolling across the packed ground, JJ leaned forward to study the controls, which didn’t look at all like the cockpit of her uncle’s plane.
King, watching how Fox operated the controls and moved the rover toward the crater wall, mimicked the British major’s movements as if practicing. “Driving seems simple enough,” King said. “I want to get my learner’s permit but … my family only has one car, so my parents didn’t see much point. I take the bus.”
“It sounds as if you’re from a rather old-fashioned area, then. Small wonder you chose to become a cadet. Well, you are in luck, young man.” Fox actually chuckled. “We require no permits to drive on the Moon. The controls are quite straightforward. The motor is self-contained, and the wheels are rugged. Forward, reverse, neutral for idling—all very clear and simple. The most difficult part is to exercise appropriate caution. It is easy to let down one’s guard. Nearly everywhere one goes on the Moon is fresh territory. Most of the lunar soil is fine and pebbly, but there are countless hazards. One must navigate around rocks and boulders, which are obvious obstacles, but there could also be piles of soft regolith or pits filled with fine dust.”
“Like sand traps?” JJ said.
“Most assuredly. Before the first Moon landing, scientists expressed concern that the lunar surface might be
all
loose powder, and that a heavy ship would sink. Fortunately, that didn’t prove to be the case.”
JJ felt a tingle down her back. The first astronauts on the Moon had chosen to come, even though the surface might have been a sea of powder. Explorers took risks. It was part of the job.
She couldn’t wait to see more of the Moon. She loved the idea that they were away from the moonbase and might soon walk where no human had walked before them. “Can we go any faster? It looks safe enough where we are.”
“Nothing here on the Moon is ever completely safe, Cadet. An accident out here would be a terrible thing indeed. We must exercise absolute vigilance while driving.”
JJ wanted the rover to have jet boosters that would send it flying across the landscape, but Major Fox drove with almost painful caution.
The rover took half an hour to cross the crater floor to the general location where the MCC monitors had tracked the impact of the meteor. Fox halted the vehicle at the site. “We shall have to continue the search afoot. The new meteorite may be difficult to identify amongst the other debris. Are you both prepared for egress?”
“To go outside, you mean?” JJ asked. The word
egress
seemed a bit self-important. The major could be awfully stuffy when he spoke.
“That is precisely what I said.”
“Yes sir, we’re ready,” King answered for both of them.
After checking their helmet seals and life-support readouts, the three cycled through the rovers airlock and emerged onto the lunar surface.
JJ couldn’t suppress her excitement at being outside again. She hopped up and down a few times, getting the feel of the suit. She wanted to run and jump and twirl, but there was work to do. “Should we make a bet about who can find that meteorite first?”
“I think being methodical will help us find it faster,” King said.
They spread out and moved over the ground with dreamlike slowness. Over the suit radio, Major Fox said, “Since very little changes here on the Moon, it is sometimes difficult to determine if a crater is fresh or ancient. Much of the lunar soil is rubble stirred up by eons of meteor bombardment.” He moved ahead, scanning the regolith.
JJ and King moved apart, each looking at the large and small rocks strewn on the ground, trying to find something out of the ordinary. “So, lovely weather we’re having,” JJ said, trying to start a conversation.
Over the suit radio, Fox said, “Technically, there is no weather as we know it on the Moon, since weather refers to the state of the atmosphere—”
“And the Moon has no atmosphere,” JJ finished for him.
“I guess that makes it easy to tell what it’s going to be like outside,” King said.
“Precisely,” Fox answered. “Sunlight equals boiling hot, and darkness means freezing cold.”
“Too bad Dyl isn’t here to take notes,” King joked. “I think there might be a quiz later.”
Major Fox did not seem to pick up on King’s humor. “Some terminology is not accurate when applied to the Moon. I would be remiss if I did not instruct you.”
JJ looked down at the ground, intent on the search and enjoying the conversation. “Dyl said the meteor came in at an angle. Will the crater be shaped differently?”
“No.” Fox gestured with a gloved hand at the pockmarked surface of the ground. “If you’ll look around you, all the craters basically have a round profile, regardless of the direction and angle of the impacting object. But craters do have distinct features: a floor, walls, the rim, a central peak—such as you see momentarily when a drip falls into a pool of water—and a blanket of ejecta outside the crater, made up of material thrown out during the impact.
“Because we know precisely when this meteorite landed and were able to ascertain the direction from the MCC trackers, we can plot its course and determine its origin. This particular rock will tell us the composition of the meteoroid cluster it belonged to.”
JJ searched, but the small craters around her looked similar, little divots in the lunar dirt.
“I think I found it!” King reported. “This one looks different from the others.” JJ bounded over to him and saw a circular gouge two meters wide surrounded by a fan of paler regolith. “The, uh, ejecta looks fresh.”
“Yes, I believe that’s it,” Major Fox said. Together they took up tools and excavated carefully until they uncovered a basketball-sized lump of rock, rough-edged and pocked with its own texture of tiny craters.
“I’ve seen meteorites that landed on Earth,” JJ said. “They were all polished smooth, melted and hardened from nearly burning up in the atmosphere.”
“Yes. You are quite right, Cadet Wren, this is pristine.” Major Fox hefted it in two gloved hands, assessing the rock, “It definitely feels dense and heavy, so it must be an iron meteorite. There are three broad categories of meteorites: iron meteorites, which are basically lumps of iron as their name implies; stony meteorites, which are more like common rock; and stony-iron meteorites, which are a mixture. Each type comes from a different part of an asteroid or a planetoid that has broken up.” Impressed by the specimen, the major placed it carefully in a container. “We can get good science out of this. Good work, Cadets.”
As the major led them back to the rover, carrying their prize, King asked, “Would it be possible for me to drive this time, sir? I’d like to learn, and you said I didn’t need a permit on the Moon.”
“Absolutely, Cadet King. I think you’ve earned the privilege.”
JJ thought about the fresh meteorite in the sample container. “Don’t meteors usually come in clusters? Why did we only see one?”
“Perhaps this one is a lone wolf.” Major Fox sounded unconcerned. “Or it may be a precursor of many more to come.”
***
Eleven
Song-Ye was not impressed by the agricultural module, though Dr. Romero seemed to think it was Eden on the Moon. Rows of multi-tiered tables filled the room. Each tier held a long plastic planter with plants poking out through holes in the top. The upper half of the domed ag bubble was transparent to let sunshine reach the wide array of growing plants.
“The ceiling panels filter out harmful solar radiation, but let in enough light for our plants to complete photosynthesis. When it’s dark outside we use low-power growth lights.” Dr. Romero was a slender dark-eyed woman in her early thirties, who kept her dark hair pulled back in a braid. Her voice was soft, her manner pleasant.
“So let me get this straight,” Song-Ye said. “You earned a degree in biology, went to medical school, became an astronaut—and now you’re a hydroponics
farmer?
Don’t you have more important things to do?”
Dr. Romero raised an eyebrow at her, then turned and headed down one of the rows of plants. “First of all, we use aeroponics—water mixed with nutrients, that we mist directly onto the bare roots. And second, what could be more important than growing food? We’ve established an ecosystem here away from Earth.”
Song-Ye followed her. “Well, that doesn’t exactly take an Einstein, does it? I mean, I have a virtual farm on my computer at home, and it doesn’t take all that much thought. I can leave it alone for weeks at a time, if I want.”
Dr. Romero pressed a button, adjusting the nutrient mix to a row of tomato plants. “Really. Do you eat the virtual food you grow?”
“Very funny,” Song-Ye said. “Of course not.”
“Do you breathe the oxygen the plants produce?” Romero pressed.
Song-Ye rolled her eyes. “They’re not real plants, so they don’t make oxygen.”
The doctor nodded thoughtfully, as if she had expected the answer. “Well, these do, and we eat the fresh fruits and vegetables. Why do you think these plants are here?”
Song-Ye thought for a moment. “For science experiments? And maybe as a hobby to keep you from going crazy up here with nothing else to do.”
Romero gave a snort. “Hobby? Not exactly. We
have
something to do every hour of the day, and this garden is vital to the moonbase. The meals sent up on the supply ships are prepackaged, so these crops are the only fresh food we get.”
Dr. Romero showed Song-Ye how to check the readouts on each kind of plant, and asked her to inspect a row of new soybean sprouts for her.
“You’re right that we do science experiments in the ag bubble,” Dr. Romero said. “Our research will help farmers on Earth grow better crops, but these plants are also an important part of our life-support systems.”
Song-Ye frowned. “But you don’t
need
plants for your oxygen. Major Fox said you extract most of it from ice in the Moon dirt.”
“True, we break H
2
O down into oxygen and hydrogen. But plants process a lot of the carbon dioxide that we exhale and convert it back into oxygen.” She drew a deep breath of the moist, fresh air. “How are those seedlings?”
Song-Ye hadn’t really been paying attention. She shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”
Dr. Romero came over to check the readings for herself. “These are not fine, Cadet Park! They’re in the danger zone. They’re way too dry. You need to take your assignment here seriously.” The woman looked at the tubing behind the planters and fiddled with a nozzle, adjusting the flow. “Ah, here it is. The line feeding these sprouts was clogged.” She shook her head. “If I hadn’t caught that, the plants would have died within a day, and we would have had to start all over on this batch.” She gave Song-Ye a hard look. “I thought you cadets were here to help. Telling me that everything is ‘fine, I guess,’ is completely irresponsible. Our lives depend on even the smallest actions here.”
Song-Ye wasn’t used to being spoken to like that. She was a straight A student, and always did whatever was necessary to get good grades. She wanted her parents to be proud of her, even though they were too busy to notice—unless her grades went
down.
But school wasn’t exactly a life-or-death situation, and Song-Ye was used to thinking that nothing she did really mattered. In fact, she tried not to care about things
or
people. She didn’t make friends easily. Her father’s ever-changing diplomatic assignments moved the family to a different city every time she got close to anyone, and Song-Ye had stopped trying to find friends. She had begged her parents for a dog, cat, or ferret, as a companion to take with her from place to place. But they had said it was too much trouble.
“Sorry,” she muttered to Dr. Romero. “I didn’t mean to ruin your plants. I promise to pay attention.”
Together, the doctor and Song-Ye cleared the nutrient lines to the stacked planters. For hours, the two concentrated on the tedious—and, she realized,
relaxing—
work that kept the plants alive. They started a new planter of strawberries. Song-Ye liked knowing that what she was doing was useful for a change.
After they were finished with the routine, Dr. Romero smiled and said, “Thank you for your help, Cadet Park. That was excellent work. Now, let me show you one of my favorite parts of the ag bubble.” She led Song-Ye to a clear box the size of a small aquarium. The top and sides were perforated with breathing holes. From inside, a plump brown-and-white hamster stared out at Song-Ye, its tiny paws clasped together as if begging to be played with.
Song-Ye caught her breath. “Oh, it’s so cute! May I hold it? I didn’t know you were allowed to have pets on the moonbase.”
Dr. Romero grinned. “Newton is officially a science experiment, not a pet. But I think he might like to be held for awhile.”
Song-Ye held the hamster gently, petting him while she talked playfully. He cuddled right into her palms and up against her chest. She beamed at the doctor. “I’ve never met a space hamster before. What does Newton’s spacesuit look like?”
“He doesn’t have one really, so he can’t go outside,” Dr. Romero said with a chuckle. “But on the trip here from the ISSC, I kept him in a clear exercise sphere. Sometimes—just for scientific research, of course—I let him float weightless in the supply ship. He looked so cute rolling around inside his ball in midair.”
Song-Ye wished she could have seen the little hamster in zero-g. She giggled as Newton ran up the sleeve of her flight suit to perch on her shoulder. The little creature nuzzled her neck, and before she knew it, had climbed into her suit collar and wriggled downward, tickling as he went.
Dr. Romero opened the door and passed through to the connecting corridor, on her way to make a daily report to Chief Ansari. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “You can play with Newton for a few more minutes, Cadet Park, then put him back in his tank.”
“I can’t put him away,” Song-Ye laughed. “He’s in my suit, going down my back!” She squirmed as Newton began to crawl down her leg.
“Well, you’d better catch him before—” Dr. Romero began, but it was too late. Newton emerged from the bottom of Song-Ye’s flightsuit leg and scurried toward the door of the ag bubble.
Song-Ye watched with dismay as Newton scampered through the door to make his escape, and bolted between the surprised doctor’s legs. Song-Ye dashed after the fugitive hamster.
***