“What’s this?” Mark asked standing just inside the Nexus, facing them from a distance.
“I never got your pass-down on the condition of the oxygen reactor.”
Mark glared at Chuck. “I was occupied in recovering from oxygen deprivation.”
“So, what’s the status?”
“The oxygen reactor is in good shape: 98%. I’ll log in and transfer my data summary.”
“Good, um, can we talk?”
Mark pointed to Chuck. “All of us?”
Sally nodded. “Please?”
Only Sally could get him to agree to something so preposterous. Mark grunted. “Okay.”
The three entered Mark’s quarters. His living quarters, like Sally’s and Chuck’s, were spacious because they were intended to house four. NASA planned three more crew launches to fully staff Moon Base Armstrong. Now that those launches would never happen, they all had extra space. Mark sat on his bunk and pointed to two stools. “What’s this about?”
“Chuck,” Sally elbowed Chuck. “Tell him.”
Chuck’s face pinched into a mask of regret. “I’m sorry Mark. I didn’t…”
After a long pause Sally interjected. “He didn’t mean it; what happened to your air. He talked to Doctor Zeke two days ago.” She sighed. “The earth’s really gone.”
“I know,” Mark answered. “I just came from the University Pod.”
Sally stood. “It looks like the University Pod just came to us.” She went to the door and opened it. “Doctor Zeke?”
“Zeke’s fine,” Doctor Ben-Ami answered. “What are titles up here anyway?”
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Mark asked.
“When I told you I was done mourning, I lied.” Zeke crossed the room and sat on an unoccupied bunk.
Chuck stood. “That’s what happened to me. You’re fine because there’s so much to do and then you go out and see that orange earth in the sky and it hits you. What we lost hits you right between the eyes.” He lowered his head. “Do you guys know I proposed to Mia?”
“No,” Mark replied. “When?”
“Six months ago, just before our group launched.” He nodded. “Her group would be up here by now if not for the gamma ray burst.” Tears traced his cheeks. “I lost everything.”
“We lost everything,” Mark corrected. “You know, when I first went up here I did everything imagining what my extended family would think of it.”
“Why?” Sally asked.
“It’s like I needed an audience for validation. Hell, I still imagine what they would think of my actions and they’re long gone.”
Sally sat silent and watched the men grieve. This was what she wanted; a pause in the urgent day to day survival — contemplation.
“They’re not gone if we remember,” Zeke said.
“What?” Chuck asked.
“You should write down all you remember about Mia,” Zeke answered. He turned to Mark. “And you should write down all you remember about your family.”
“Why?” Chuck asked. “What good will that do?”
“We’re all there is,” Zeke replied. “Our past and our loved ones; they only live through our memories.”
“What about creating this brave new lunar world?” Mark asked.
“We do that too because one thing’s for sure — our past and our loved ones only mean something if we survive. All of humanity only has meaning…”
“If we survive,” Mark whispered.
Chuck buried his face in his hands. Sally saw Mark’s eyes shine with tears. She felt a lump in her throat, blinked, and watched her tears fall in glittering sparkles that splatted wet starbursts on her thighs. We live — our lives matter. That’s the only thing and that’s everything. The weight of all that humanity was — is on our shoulders. “How?” Sally choked out the words. “How can we motivate? How can we inspire what’s left of humanity to fight?”
“Isn’t that the director’s job?” Mark asked.
“No, it’s ours.”
8
Director Constance Collier took off her equipment harness and hung it on the hook next to her bunk. She stared at the equipment that was her daily lifeline. Behind her, a pneumatic door hissed open. She smiled. “It took you long enough.” She purred as strong arms encircled her waist.
“You’ve got to pace yourself Connie.” The deep baritone voice of Huxley Little filled the room. Huxley was the Assistant Director of Moon Base Armstrong, also known as the Armstrong Controller — ArmCon for short, and he was the director’s right hand man in all ways. He spun her toward him and kissed her dry lips.
“Hux, what would I do without you?”
“Find a younger stud to shack up with.”
She laughed. It felt good to laugh. It was sweet blessed release. “I just broke the birthing plan to Sally.”
Huxley stepped back, eyebrows raised. “Why now?”
“Because nobody can do what she does. I’ve given her a year to get a replacement trained.”
“And you’ve given me a year to get this place self-sustaining. What’s so magic about a year?”
“You know… that’s when we run out of consumables.”
“We may run out long before that.”
“Doctor Ben-Ami has some good ideas at massively increasing the oxygen supply — the air supply — and he’s got a sample of sealing lunar cement. We’ll use sprayers and the compound will react with the surface and seal the tube sections.” She nodded in satisfaction. “We’ll be able to pressurize the tube one section at a time. Once we do that, we’ll be able to start constructing above ground green houses and habitation pods.”
Huxley nodded. “We’ll have to check the radiation first. If there’s too much, we’ll need to stay underground for our living spaces. Hell, that’s why we’re alive now.”
The Director nodded. “Well, there are solutions. And even if no one likes to hear this, if we’re going to survive as a species, we better start making babies next year.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
She laughed again. “I’m too old.”
“Forty-eight isn’t old.” He beamed a Cheshire cat grin. “Everything you’ve got seems to work just fine.”
She kissed him, pulled back, and stared at him with a soft gaze. “Let’s not talk about this now.”
9
Mark was thankful Sally stayed after Chuck and Zeke departed his living quarters. He looked at Sally. Her shoulder-length brunette hair had a hint of red and was pulled back in a ponytail. Mark liked that Sally remained, in the face of everything, utterly and agonizingly female. “You’re amazing you know.” He beamed at her.
“Stop it,” Sally said.
“No, I mean it. You came out and saved me. You patched the leak. You run the shift.” He nodded. “You are amazing.”
She smiled and Mark’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she replied. “By the way, congratulations.”
“For what?”
“ArmCon said you’d made rank of major.”
Mark snorted. “I was selected for major by the U.S. Air Force’s promotion board three months ago.”
“And now you’re due your promotion. You can pin on your major’s insignia.”
“There’s no U.S. Air Force left. There’s no U.S. left. What good is a major’s rank?”
“We have to keep conventions.”
“Humph.” Mark regarded Sally. “I’m not totally on board with Zeke.”