Laura glanced at Gidds, and then allowed herself to be distracted by a small, bland breakfast, followed by the next book in the series that Red Exchange was based upon.
At least, that is, until the ten-joden atmosphere warning.
Startled, Laura frowned at the notice floating as an interface projection ten inches in front of her face, and then turned to stare at Gidds. He was watching her, smiling.
"Atmosphere warning?"
"We have ten joden until movement is restricted. Would you like to see?"
Gidds could hardly look more thoroughly pleased with himself, and Laura had never been so inclined to gape blankly. But then she nodded, and followed him through the doors at the rear of the passenger section, and up a curved stair to an oval area at the top of the tanz that was mainly open, with a few chairs built around the edges. The front was clear of obstruction, however, and as they approached some kind of outer shielding drew back.
Darkness. Stars. And a distant, rounded shape, marked by a comma-shaped hole.
Laura absolutely was gaping now. And then she reached out, and took Gidds' hand. She didn’t want to speak, not at first, and found herself taking deep, gulping breaths, as if she’d been running. They’d used up at least half of the ten joden before she managed, in a shaking voice: "Yes, the views are spectacular."
He slid his arms around her, very briefly, and then said: "We cannot linger. The transition from atmosphere is a critical point in the journey, and when we switch to solar speeds we must be in our pods."
Laura was having to work on not crying, and made a quick visit to a restroom to wash her face thoroughly. When she settled back into her pod, she opened a channel with Gidds, but only to say: "I’m too incoherent to ask sensible questions. Are we really heading to a secret moon base?"
"As secret as anything so large can be within KOTIS. Since the chasm was formed during the two attempts to reshape existence, and is clearly linked in some way to the whole aether network, this is considered an important avenue for research. The secrecy is very temporary, more to keep the planning stage free of any proposals regarding recreational sites."
"Space resorts!?" Laura did not consider this a thing to be postponed.
Gidds smiled. "They will happen soon enough. Since Tare does not have a moon, and our focus has been more on Ena travel than vacuum travel, KOTIS only has experience with small orbital stations. Before we can permit commercial operators on Esune, there is considerable data to gather. Today is the first structural inspection following the activation of the environmental system. If I clear it, then the non-drone occupation stage will commence."
As their pod lids closed as a safety precaution, Gidds showed Laura how to access the external cameras of the tanz, and then returned to his meetings while she busied herself with further freaking out.
The moon. The moon, Esune. Space. Stars, brilliant and cold and clear. Muina, vast, and greener than Earth, because the proportion of land to water was roughly equal, and the distribution more even. Like a vast lattice pie crust, Laura thought, and fought down a giggle. She was flying from there to the moon.
The contrast to Earth’s level of technology had never been sharper. No fiery thrust to escape the gravity well. No discernible change in her weight. No cramped cockpit, or bulky spacesuit, or astronaut nappies. And a four hour trip! She’d read that it took days to reach Earth’s moon, though a good portion of that involved deceleration and not turning passengers to mush. But four hours!
Laura walked onto a spaceship with no more preparation – less, in fact – than a Sydney to LA flight. With the help of the interface, she found distances and then did some quick calculations and shook her head in awe. Because the Muinans stuck to the Ena for interplanetary travel she’d never really looked into what they were capable of in real-space. Solar system travel was entirely practical at these speeds, and though the other planets in Muina’s system weren’t exactly colonisation prospects, the Muinans were perfectly capable of sending drones and whitestone nanites, and the raw materials for dome cities.
Sel Notra Base clearly showed this to be true, for as it rapidly came into focus, Laura could see the place was big: a wide central dome surrounded by a ring of whitestone buildings, and then radiating spokes. It sat close to the point where the downstroke of the comma joined the original circle, and Laura eventually gave in to disbelief and—mindful of his meetings—sent Gidds a text.
Laura: How can this possibly be secret? It has to be visible from the surface of the planet.
Gidds: The structure was only formed five days ago.
Laura: But…believe me, if anyone planted something like this on the surface of Earth’s moon, a half-dozen amateur astronomers would be melting down the internet within the first hour.
Gidds: The telescopes most use are interface-enabled. Everyone on Muina has an interface installation.
Perplexed, Laura stared at him. Then, remembering how she could set her own privacy settings to prevent people taking images of her with interface-enabled devices, she understood. They’d edited it out. The people on Muina literally couldn’t see Sel Notra Base, because all the telescopes—potentially everything they saw—ran through the filter of the interface.
It took a long time for Laura to manage to respond.
Laura: The Triplanetary truly is only two steps from a dystopia.
Gidds: One of the reasons we have so many oversight committees. We could so easily slide into nightmare.
Laura found herself unspeakably glad that he’d said that. That someone with the power Gidds wielded saw the potential for horror in the system he had been raised within. It took her a while to shake off the chill, but it was impossible to resist the rapid approach of an Actual Moon Base. And landing, with a light billow of dust that took an age to settle while they waited through the post-flight checks. Then their pod lids lifted, and two green-suited security personnel walked along the aisle distributing helmets.
These were fascinating, with a solid section that curved a little like a hawk’s beak pointing up and out over the forehead, providing a frame for a clear substance that could raise up from a heavy-duty ring collar. This gave a reasonably broad area of view, but it wasn’t until they were ushered into a shower-like cubicle that Laura realised the ring had a similar function to the control unit of the Setari nanosuits. She managed to mostly not flinch when goo sprayed from the walls, and it was only moments before it formed into an incredibly fine blue-grey coverall that joined up with the control ring of the helmet. It did not strike her as particularly sturdy protection, but Gidds assured her that the suits would hold against full vacuum, although their air supply was very limited without an extra pack. They were simply a precaution in case any environment seals failed during the inspection.
Laura now needed to exercise considerable self-control, as she and Gidds were conducted on a tour of An Actual Moon Base, being handed from senior technician to senior technician as Gidds inspected each of their areas of control in turn—including a kitchen and refectory where they were shown how food would be produced before eating a sample meal.
Laura had never been closer to starring in her own Disney movie, wanting to skip and dance and sing from the sheer joy of An Actual Moon Base. She controlled herself by spending a lot of time peering out of view ports at vistas that spectacular truly undersold.