The Moonwalker

Chapter 3

"You see that?" Harvey stops with a few long steps and points.

Something flickers in the corner of her eye. She digs her feet into the lunar regolith like she's carving a long turn on skis. It takes another hop before she comes to a full stop.

"I see it."

Because the Moon is an airless body, there's no dispersed light. No airglow. Nothing but her suit to illuminate two round cut-outs of grey slopes. It's like the ground drops away at the edge of ILUB-2's perimeter. They have strict protocols on power usage to cope with long lunar nights.

Their lights catch on the broad panels of ILUB-2's southern solar array. In the distance, the solar panels look like gold sails. They're delicate, high-maintenance, and vital for the success of the mission. They shiver and shimmer. 

Shuddering under her feet. Tinfoiling module

scraps. Bodies and lights

crashing quietly in black sky.

The shifts underneath her boots and she loses her balance. She throws out her hands instinctively and grunts when she hits the ground. Grey dust whirls all around her like a mist. She holds her breath, but her ears don't pop. The EMU's fine.

Kalashnikoff laughs and claps. "Very good."

Aula focuses on the rasp of her breath. The ground trembles so gently it's almost imperceptible. Moonquakes are milder than their terrestrial counterparts, but some can last up to an hour. She rolls onto her side and looks up. The stars are visible out here. Brighter than the clearest, coldest nights on Earth.

"You're spiking, Reed." Hinton's voice is humourless now.

Harvey does a sideways shuffle towards her, but she waves him off. "I'm fine. Give me a sec."

The VitaGuard IV is sending all her vitals back to ILUB-2 and subsequently down to Houston. She pushes herself upright and blinks rapidly. Lunar dust sticks to the lower left quadrant of her visor, but the majority of her vision is clear.

"Everything checks out?" Harvey lingers by her side.

"Yeah." She looks at the ground to see if she dropped anything. "I'm good."

"Nothing like a little rock and roll." Kalashnikoff sounds a little muffled like he's eating. "I bet it's...a 3."

There's a beat of silence. It doesn't look like Hinton's going to take the bait. Then he replies, "A twenty says 3.5."

"Some warning would be nice." She takes a few cautious lopes behind Harvey, but the moonquake is already subsiding. "What's closest while Pita's down?"

"Pitatus J," Kalashnikoff says and there's a pause. "It is a 3.1. I was right."

Seismometers are dotted around the moonscape to form the Nubium Seismic Array. One of the purposes of ILUB-2 is to study local selenography for future mining efforts. Sensors positioned at the crater Pitatus are furthest south and went silent two days ago after a lunar impact nearby. A repair run will need one of the base's precious Space Exploration Vehicles. SEVs are always in high demand.

"Goddammit," Hinton mutters and it's clear he doesn't intend to be heard over the mic. "Kal, you'll have to come down here and collect."

"I will, don't worry."

Harvey laughs. "I think you've been had, Houston."

"Affirmative."

He starts loping down the path again and Aula follows his lead. The moonquake is barely noticeable, but it still makes her neck ache. The Gagarin airlock slowly comes into view around the base's curve. Harvey's lights catch on the urine first. It's oddly beautiful. An arching amber stalagmite glistening in near darkness. This colour is a rarity for the mare. She reaches for the small pouch on the side of her PLSS, which looks like a white backpack that carries the EMU's life support systems. Her customized toolkit is attached for ease and safety. She leans over slightly to point her lights down. The EVA gloves make it challenging to manipulate anything, but they've all clocked a lot of hours training at the Neutral Buoyancy Lab.

The urine itself juts out of printed regolith and stretches at a downward angle. It froze in mid-burst. The damaged panel underneath it is barely visible. A thick rail of urine crosses the wall and down part of the airlock, effectively barring it. Cracks in the printed regolith spider outward. They'll need to be replaced.

"How's that?" Harvey leans in so his lights illuminate the damage. "Can you see, Houston?"

"Yes, that's great footage. Thank you."

Aula follows the length of the urine to where it spans across the airlock. The HD cameras on their helmets feed back to ILUB-2 and then down to Earth where it will be recorded and analyzed for a solution.

"Can you confirm there's no venting?"

"No venting," Harvey says. "How about that airlock, Houston?"

There's a pause on the other end. "Go ahead."

Harvey adds his lights to hers and points to a part of the stalagmite. "Suggest we start there."

She carefully grasps the hammer's claw and draws it out. "Ready to clear."

"Ready to clear," Kalashnikoff says.

"Copy all," Hinton says. "Clear the airlock."

Swinging a hammer is a simple task on Earth, but not on the Moon. The EMU has a hard upper torso that limits her range of motion. It's easy to start fighting the suit, but the suit always wins. She raises her arm at an angle and then brings the hammer down on the spot Harvey suggested. The longer, more brittle spikes at the end chip off. She spreads her feet apart so the moonquake doesn't unbalance her and starts in earnest. Because of the way her suit is put together, she has to angle her arm in a very particular way. The ache in her neck and shoulders quickly spreads until it eclipses all else.

The urine breaks off in seven pieces and shatters across the ground. They both jerk back as chips pelt her visor and glitter in the light. She inhales sharply and leans forward to inspect the airlock. Some urine is still frozen near the seal, but it's easily broken off. She runs her thumb up and down the door. Her gloves are like baseball mitts. It's hard to feel anything, but she can't help running her hands over the airlock's edges. The metal's cold even though her suit.

The moonquake is winding down. Aula half-turns and the mare stretches out behind her in total darkness. Harvey follows the direction of her gaze, then glances at her while his camera and helmet face away from her.

"Beautiful night up here."

She looks at him, then at Earth. "It is."

Every EVA has some time for dawdling factored in. Although astronauts are renowned for their focus, it's impossible not to pause and look around every once in a while. She drags her stare back to the airlock.

"Ready to move on?" Hinton's voice is firm, but not unkind.

Harvey faces her. "We are, Houston."

She nods and lets her hand drop to her side.