Glass Sky (16 page)

“Do you still want to do this?” asked Steve.

A plume of dust stretched kilometers behind them, visible to any watcher. But not even a bird broke the empty stillness. Tania nodded.

Steve stepped on the accelerator and the Jeep dropped down the hill, into the dried riverbed and through the wilted weeds that had overgrown the stream cobbles. He revved the engine, tires spinning, and they wallowed up the other side. The sun blasted down, hostile and cruel, and Tania soaked her bandanna from her water bottle. Every time she thought they could go no further, Steve somehow found another track.

“This is as far as I dare go,” he said finally, pulling to a stop at a flat spot protected from view by a cluster of scraggly bushes. “We’re well inside the preserve now.”

They’d passed no park boundary signs. No fences. Tania got out of the car, gasping at the slap of heat on her face. She brushed against one of the bushes, and a shower of leaves fell to the ground.

“I don’t know what you expect to find here,” said Steve.

Tania touched the gorilla coin in her pocket. She kicked at a rock. “I couldn’t let it go. Not without knowing for sure.”

“Then your crisis is less urgent than mine,” said Steve. “I don’t have the luxury of certainty anymore.”

He pulled out his scoped hunting rifle, checked the ground for scorpions, then sat down in the jeep’s shade. “I’ll keep watch from here.” He pulled his hat down over his eyes. “Don’t go too far.”

Tania put on her pack, then scrambled up the hill, searching out gullies where the goats might have done less damage. Even with good management, this area would not have survived the drought.
But surely we could have saved
something
.
Kept the livestock out at least. Put in erosion control grasses.
The sun beat down, reflecting off the parched earth. Had it really been sleeting in Boulder?

She reached the crest, her mountain-climbing instinct demanding the view. Lines of rolling brown hills faded into a shimmering haze.

What the…?

Footprints. They looked fresh, the edges still unobscured by sand. The prints had the lugged tread of heavy boots, so it wasn’t a herder; nobody she’d seen in the camp had worn shoes.

A soldier?

She ducked, aware that she was exposed on the hilltop, visible for miles around. At her feet, she noticed a fresh strip of orange flagging tied to a stick.
A survey stake? Why would anyone survey this land? And for what?
Tania felt a sudden, burning curiosity.

She crouched, and started following the footprints down the hill, darting from bush to bush.
Surveyors can’t be as dangerous as soldiers.
The prints led to a dry riverbed at the bottom of the next valley, passing four more stakes, which her GPS showed as linear. Tania froze behind the last of the bushes and peered carefully ahead.

Parked across the riverbed, about 100 meters away, was a jeep. It was newer than the one Steve had brought her in, and painted in military colors.

Get the hell out of here!

Both doors stood open. There was no sign of movement. She zoomed in with her omni, using the camera as crude binoculars. Something lay on the front seat.
A folder?
A few seconds at the jeep, just enough to take some photos, and she might know what was going on.
This is my business. UNBio paid for this land. For the restorations that never happened.

Tania sipped from her camelback, considering her strategy.
Do it now? Or leave? I can’t sit here.
She gathered her courage, then raced across the cracked mud and ducked down at the jeep’s open door. A folder full of papers lay on the front seat. Real papers! Thank goodness for low tech.

She snapped a photo of the first page. CLICK! BEEP. The sound was a thunderclap in the silence.
Shit.

“Marhaba?” Through the window she caught a glimpse of a soldier getting up from the tree where he’d been dozing.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
The nearest bushes were a universe away.

Quiet. Don’t move.
“Li nadħhab.” A second voice. Boots crunched on dry earth, rounding the jeep.

Run!
Tania was fast, but she was a 42-year-old white woman and the soldier was in his early twenties, from a country known for distance running.

A hand seized her waist and hauled her into the gravel, pinning her arms behind her back. She mule-kicked her attacker, aiming at his groin, but she connected with his thigh instead. The hand let go. Then a vicious fist to the head sent a shock of lighting pain through her. Her legs wobbled. Another punch, in the side of the jaw. Tania heard bones and teeth shattering. Somewhere in the blackness she was dragged over rough stones back to the jeep.

***

“Min ayyi daulatiń anta? Amrikiah?” Tania huddled in a fetal position as the taller of the two, the officer, aimed another boot at her. “Ana mehtag motargem.” He kicked one last time, then seemed to tire of the pointless interrogation. Without network access, the omni’s language translators were useless. He leaned against the tree, pointing his rifle at Tania. The other man took over, leering at her through the jagged scar that split his face. She could smell the sour stench of his sweat through the blood in her mouth. These men had been in the field for a long time.

Scar’s hands probed her clothing, sliding over her skin, searching through her pockets. He laughed at Tania’s revulsion, forcing his hand to her breast, squeezing viciously. She yelped in pain. He stuffed her omni into his pocket, not even bothering to look at it. And then he found her gorilla coin.
No!
She scratched at him, but he was ready, countering with a knee to the ribs that knocked her, coughing, onto her side.

“Ma beddi!” He hurled the coin into the bushes.

“No!” Tania sobbed. Another kick in the ribs cut off her cry.

Officer said something, and Scar slunk to the tree and took the rifle. Officer smiled as he unbuckled his belt. He glared at Tania, savoring her terror.
He’s done this before. Many times.
I’m going to be raped. Holy shit. I’m going to be raped.

And then killed.

Officer stepped forward.

Tania took in a shuddering breath.
Pretend I’m weak. Lure him close. Make him remember me.
But he was too practiced. He kicked her, forcing her into a defensive huddle, then grabbed her folded arms and twisted her onto her stomach. “Get off me! Help!” Through the painhaze Tania could feel his hands, working her pants down. She struggled, but he was powerful, and nearly twice her weight. He used his knees to spread her legs apart.

Head pinned against the ground, face half buried in the sand, Tania could just make out Scar, standing at the tree anticipating his turn.
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
Scar laughed.

And then his head vanished.

A half-second later, a crack sounded from the hilltop. Blood fountained from Scar’s neck, and he toppled forward.

“Ma hatha?” Officer leapt off Tania and scrambled for Scar’s rifle, but his pants tangled around his ankles pulling him off balance. The stumble saved his life, drawing the next shot just wide, exploding his arm. “Yaahhh!” The remains of his forearm dangled by a strip of skin from white shards jutting out of his elbow. His eyes rolled like a cornered deer’s, and he dodged for cover behind the jeep, abandoning his quest for the rifle. The windshield shattered into a hail of diamonds.

Tania yanked her pants back around her waist. Officer was crawling behind the vehicle, his own pants still around his ankles, his blood watering the sand. He fumbled inside the passenger door with his remaining arm, reaching for something. Tania didn’t hesitate. She yanked the bloody gun out of Scar’s stiffening hands. Spun. Officer stared into the barrel. He raised his good hand in front of him, as if it could fend off the bullets. He looked into Tania’s eyes, begging.

She squeezed the trigger. When the noise stopped, she threw down the gun and curled up on the ground, hugging her arms around her knees, her vision clouded by red tears. An insect buzzed, attracted by the carnage in the sand. Tania didn’t recognize the species.

“SUIT AIR, EVERYONE,” ordered Sharon.

Jie pushed the air scrubber cylinder into its receptacle. It didn’t fit, so he reversed it, then reversed it again, pushing harder.
It’s always the third way you try.
The scrubber snapped into place with a solid click and the indicator showed eight hours of surface time – more than enough for the walk to the station.

“Say hello to your fans on TV,” said an unfamiliar voice. Now that they were on the moon, communications had been handed to Earthcon, a team of specialized controllers that would change depending on the team’s activities.

Jie suppressed an urge to wave to Cheng. He checked his helmet connections, then cross-checked with Sally.
How can these snaps possibly hold my gloves on?

“Earthcon, we are crosschecked and ready for EVA,” said Sharon.

Earth was now 400,000 kilometers away, so the communications delay lasted over two seconds. “Copy that. You are go for EVA.”

With a hiss, compressors started pumping air out of the capsule. The hundreds of woven tubes that made up Jie’s suit swelled like balloons as the outside pressure decreased. He stretched his arms and legs, testing the fabric’s flex, amazed at how supple the material was despite the pressure differential.

Sharon pulled the hatch inward. Light flooded into the cabin, but from his position Jie saw only black sky. The moon. Fewer than a hundred people had been here. But after three days, it was the toilet that excited him the most.

“See you on the ground,” said Sharon. She worked her feet through the hatch. “Earthcon, the new gloves are great. I’m having no difficulty maintaining a death-grip on the ladder.” She vanished out of sight.

Rajit climbed down next, bright blue against the lunar night. Isabel followed in scarlet. Jie’s heart had never beaten so fast.
If something goes wrong…
His suit suddenly felt clumsy and restricting.

“You’re up, Jie.” Sharon’s voice echoed, strangely distorted in his helmet.

Just this one short walk. And then I’ll be safely inside for the rest of the mission.
Jie crawled to the hatch and looked out. Sharon, Rajit, and Isabel stood a body length below him, the only splashes of color on an undulating plain of fist-sized rocks and gray dust nearly a kilometer across. Dozens of abandoned landing vessels littered the surroundings, the remains of previous expeditions, a junkyard of dreams. Mountainous crater rims rose out of the shadowed valleys like islands from an ocean of black ink. The high vantage point, combined with the moon’s smaller size, brought the horizon closer, giving the whole scene a mild fish-eye effect.

“Jie?”

“Coming.” Jie worked his way downwards, probing for each step through the thick soles of his boots. He maintained three points of contact like he’d been taught in the water tank.
I fell twice in the simulator, remember.
Four steps. Three. Two. One. Moon dust puffed under his boot, as if he’d stepped into flour.

I’m standing on the moon!
He flashed a double thumbs-up at the cameras on the spacecraft’s exterior. He could almost hear Cheng’s cheers.

Hisssss. Huussss.

The only sound was the air filters. He stepped away from the capsule, awkward despite all his attempts at caution. The dust felt slippery underfoot, and he skidded when he landed.
I’m on the moon!

Sally, who was the last one still in the capsule, lowered six boxes out of stowage under Sharon’s watchful eye. Then she climbed down to join them. Sharon relaxed and looked around. “I'd forgotten how beautiful this is,” she said.

“It’s so quiet,” whispered Sally. Her voice echoed in Jie’s helmet, sounding distant and mournful. No movement in the landscape. No breeze to shift the dust. No atmosphere to hold a cloud. Treaded tracks crisscrossed the surface, so crisp they could’ve been made minutes ago. Most of them seemed to head towards a higher plateau beyond the far end of the landing field. Jie could just make out the two rounded mounds of the habitat. Past those, at the top of a narrowing ridge, distant solar panels bristled on what was clearly the summit.

“Uhhh, I’ve got a problem,” said Isabel. “My air indicator just dropped a level.” Her voice was calm, but the words came out fast. She rotated the scrubber assembly to her front so she could check the connection in the sunlight.

“Rajit and I have spare scrubbers,” said Sharon. “We could swap yours out.”

“Hang on, Sharon,” said Earthcon. There was a 30 second delay.

“Engineering says no,” said a different voice. “If it’s a connector problem, we risk breaking the seal completely.”

They formed a loose circle around Isabel, the landscape suddenly forgotten. “We could repressurize the LDC and attempt to repair it there,” suggested Sharon.

“Negative,” said the voice from Earth. “At current usage, Isabel still has an hour of air. Proceed to the habitat. Just don’t stop for sightseeing.”

Sharon set a deliberate pace, taking controlled steps. The sky was black beyond any night, the stars like holes in a silk cloth, solid and unblinking. And with no atmosphere to provide ambient light, the shadows gave the illusion that the surface was riddled with deep pits. Even with the suit lights, the effect was disconcerting, enhancing the surreal, almost intoxicated feel of the low gravity.

The tire tracks converged and soon they were walking on a road of sorts, heading steadily upwards. Footprints appeared. Tens, hundreds, thousands of them, frozen for eternity in the soft dust. The twin habitat domes grew nearer, polymer balloons stretched over an alloy skeleton, then buried under such a thick blanket of protective rubble that the artificial origins were visible only through the two airlocks sticking like turtles’ heads out of the gray dirt. Jie resisted the urge to check his air levels again.
I could enjoy this if it wasn’t so scary. They’ll never simulate low gravity in a video game.
Sharon headed to the furthest entrance, her steps lengthening as their confidence increased. She glided to a stop at an inward opening metal door

“I’m showing yellow now,” said Isabel.

“Isabel, you’re first in the airlock,” said Earthcon. “Jie, you’re bumped to second. Enjoy the views while you can.”

Isabel opened the habitat dome airlock and stepped into the cramped booth.

“Look,” said Jie, “you can see Earth from here.” Isabel paused for a moment, one hand on the latch. Earth had been behind the mountain when they’d landed, but from this higher vantage it was just above the horizon, shadowed but for a crescent of light, like a smile in the sky. It seemed enormous.
Are Zhenzhen and Cheng looking back at me?

After a few moments of silent contemplation, Isabel closed the airlock. The door’s status light went from green to yellow. Out of the corner of his vision Jie noticed a puff of mist.
What the…? Mist?
It looked like condensation inside of his helmet, but as he turned, he realized that it was coming from the airlock. Vapor plumes shot from the edges of the doorframe, like steam from a boiling kettle.

“Hey! Something leaking!” Jie shouted in alarm. The airlock light flashed red.

“Earthcon, I assume you copied that?” Sharon sounded completely calm.

A delay, at least 15 seconds. “We confirm that the lock’s not pressurizing,” said Earthcon. “It may be a problem with the outer seals. Isabel, please switch to the cargo dome airlock.”

A grunt. “Earthcon?” For the first time, Isabel’s voice carried an edge of fear. “Can you release the door?” Jie glanced over at the next dome, a scant 20 meters away.

“We aren’t holding the door,” said Earthcon. “The latch is mechanical.”

The handle didn’t move. “It’s stuck,” Isabel grunted. “Should I force it?”

“Please wait,” said Earthcon. “Jie, describe what you saw.”

“Plumes of air escaped all around door,” said Jie. “Maybe air pressure jammed something into the latch.”

“Please stand by – we’re reviewing Jie’s suitcam video.”

Everyone stared at the airlock. Minutes passed.

“I’m red now,” said Isabel. “Standing by isn’t working so well for me.”

“Isabel, switch to your spare scrubber,” said Earthcon.

“Sharon and Rajit are carrying the spares.”

Air hissed inside Jie’s helmet, each breath a gift.

“Isabel, we think that sunlight reflecting around the door frame caused UV degradation of the vacuum seal. Opening the door cracked the material, and the escaping air wrapped it around the latch. Force the door. Try to free the blockage. Rajit, you and Sally inspect the cargo lock.”

Jie and Sharon yanked at the handle, coordinating with Isabel. It didn’t budge.

“My air is critical!” Isabel’s voice held panic now.

“We’ll try a pressure override followed by an air pulse,” said Earthcon. “Isabel, if we can raise the pressure enough, even for a moment, you can slip through the inner door.”

Air puffed again, a hundred plumes.
I’m getting a bad feeling.

“Oh, oh,” said Rajit. “This airlock looks bad too. The stripping is cracked and discolored. It resembles dried mud. Are you seeing this, Earthcon?”

Jie had a vision of Rajit stuck in the second airlock while he, Sally, and Sharon waited outside.
Wǒ cào! What then? Trapped on the surface? We don’t even have an escape vehicle.

Another long delay, nearly 30 seconds. Isabel’s panicked breathing rasped in Jie’s helmet.

“Rajit, take all four suit repair kits. Glue down the gasket around the circumference of the cargo dome door.”

“Hey! Hey!” yelled Isabel. “What about me? Why aren’t you patching my airlock?”

Then, silence. “We’ve switched Isabel to a private channel so that she can talk to her family,” said Earthcon.

“Agreed,” said Sharon. “There’s not enough suit patch for both locks. We can’t risk the mission.”

Tā mādebi. They’re going to let her die.

‹Jie, watch your respiration rate,› his controller warned.

Inhale. Pause. Exhale. Just like in the training. I can do this.

Jie followed Sharon to the cargo lock and numbly handed over his suit repair kit. Rajit taped down the gasket with precise movements, overlapping the bits of tape centimeter by centimeter until the door’s entire perimeter had been reinforced.
Hurry! There’ll be tools inside. Maybe there’s still time.

“How does that look?” asked Rajit, playing his camera over the gasket.

Isabel was dying –
dead?
– a few meters away. And in a moment their own fate would be decided. Jie felt powerless, as if he were standing in the middle of a field during a lightning storm, holding an umbrella.
Rajit’s fix will hold. Or it won’t. Calm… Calm… Is Cheng seeing this? Surely Earthcon has cut off the feed.
The airlock closed on Rajit.

“Rajit, we’ll bypass the dust scrub. Don’t take your suit off. Just get the repair tools and come out.”

“Copy that.”

Bypass the dust scrub?
Dust control protocols had been hammered into Jie. The fine powder on the lunar surface was the product of mechanical shattering, like glass pounded by a hammer, but never smoothed by wind or water. Abrasive. Destructive. Possibly carcinogenic.

Jie’s eyes riveted to the airlock. Two puffs of air. Three. Five. Ten. Like a failing dam.

“Full pressure! Go!”

Rajit grunted, and a moment later the vapor puffs faded as Earthcon depressurized the lock. Jie’s bowels screamed in agony. Misery, stacked on horror.

Time blurred. Rajit emerged with tools, and they freed Isabel’s airlock from its hinges. Isabel lay inside, crumpled on the floor in her red suit. Sharon slung her body effortlessly over her shoulder and gently laid it in the sun, facing Earth. Rajit and Sally replaced the gasket and remounted the door.

“I’ll go first,” said Sharon. She stepped into the dome’s carnivorous mouth. This time the light went green. No mist. No warning alarms.

“I’m in. Send Jie through.”

Jie stepped into a round chamber little bigger than his body, and latched the door behind him. A hissing noise grew out of the vacuum silence, and his suit softened as air pressure increased. A steamy spray attacked him from all sides, drumming the fabric of his suit, covering his helmet in runnels of water. He raised his arms, instinct from his training, washing off the abrasive lunar dust. A blast of air left him clear and clean.

He pushed the inner door open and stepped into a sterile white chamber containing a long change bench mounted on improbably thin legs. Sharon waited, stripped to her underwear, her suit already hanging on the wall. Misery creased her face. She helped Jie peel off his suit. His skin sucked at the fabric, like a snail being pulled off glass. They both smelled of sour sweat mixed with the odd chemical odor of the suit.

“You did well out there, Jie.”

“I did nothing.”

“Sometimes not panicking is all we can do,” said Sharon. “There’s a shower in the first room on your left. There should be clean clothes on the shelf.”

Jie hung his suit next to Sharon’s and hobbled down the hallway to a circular common area ringed by doorways. The first door led to a small washroom. He collapsed on the toilet, groaning with relief. When his bowels had stopped screaming, he stripped off his underwear and stepped into another enclosed booth for a ten-second blast of warm water and air. Clean and dry, he pulled a crisp white “China India Lunar Team 2029” T-shirt off the shelf and fled to his designated cabin.