The Moonwalker

Chapter 14.1

The June Boötids taper off within the week. No other significant lunar impacts are seen so they're given the green light. Every EVA requires weeks, even months, of planning, practice, and coordination between crews on the ground and crews off-world. They plan their EVA in 72 hours. Four astronauts in two SEVs head towards the MAF's landing site.

Aula drives in silence, eyes glued to the overlapping spotlights in front of them. Glassy spherules in the regolith constantly glimmer. The spherules can be found all over the Moon and in three colours so far: orange, black, and green. They're thought to be from ancient volcanic eruptions 3.3 and 3.8 billion years ago and various lunar impacts. It looks like they're driving through snowfields under a gibbous moon. Except it's Earth that glows overhead.

Faint light gathers at the fringes of her vision and is strong enough to cast shadows. Light from the sun hits their homeworld and radiates outward in all directions. Some of that light hits the Moon and illuminates the darkness of its nearside, which is then reflected back to Earth as planetshine. People will see a bright thumbnail crescent in the sky bordered by dim blue light that's just strong enough to etch out the rest of the Moon's surface.

"Chat chat chat." Kalashnikoff mimics talking with his hand. "You kill me with your words."

Aula keeps her expression bland. "I just might."

There's blessed silence for about 20 seconds.

"So, smiling."

She sighs. "I'm going to kill Harvey."

"I notice your bandwidth usage is high this week."

"You noticed?" She gently turns around a large dimple in the mare surface. "Or you went snooping?"

"Kwan is the one who noticed so he is the snooper."

"And he told you because...?"

"I bribed him with vodka."

"I don't know why I'm surprised anymore."

Kalashnikoff beams. "One of many perks for being in charge of LunX shuttles."

"Between you and Harvey, it's a miracle anything gets done."

"True," he admits, then leans forward with his chin propped up on his hands. "Was it a friend? Or was it a friend?"

She makes another small detour around a few small rocks. The mare is dark and mostly smooth, but there are indentations and obstacles that need to be avoided. Because of a lack of atmosphere, assessing depth is challenging. When driving an SEV, astronauts simply avoid everything. She glances at the coordinates on the vehicle's screen and sees they're still on track. But she already knew that.

He sits up straight. "Oh ho, so it's a friend. I see."

She scowls.

"I can't wait to tell everyone." He wobbles his head and claps. "Grim Reed gets naked with another human being."

"I will pull this thing over, Kal."

"So exciting!" Kalashnikoff leans back in his chair and grins from ear to ear.

"SEV-1, Houseton."

Aula slows down slightly. "Go ahead, Houston."

"You have a hot mic."

Heat floods her face. "Copy."

Profound silence fills the cabin. Aula keeps her face locked into a scowl as they drive across the mare. The SEV's suspension creaks as they round the lip of another small indentation in the Moon's surface.

A hot mic means their conversation just made it into the public archives back on Earth. As a woman in a male dominated field, she's taken pains to keep her sexuality out of the conversation. Because if she opens that door, everyone is going to doggy pile on it. She's already been jabbed by overt and passive aggressive criticism over the years. It's still difficult for people to reconcile her gender with her job. But a bisexual woman? She would be judged even more by the qualifiers of what she is rather than her merits as an aviator, astronaut, and engineer.

There would be consequences for Sophia and Anaaya, too. Ross agreed to be the spouse of a moonwalker. Sophia uses her work to inform and advocate on the world stage. She might very well be reduced to the romantic attachment of a white Canadian, especially if that white Canadian is a famous female astronaut. Anaaya would have the humiliating distinction of being internationally known as an abandoned child. Once by her father and twice by her father's usurper.

Kalashnikoff grimaces. "Sorry."

"Yeah," she sighs. "Don't worry about it."

The rest of their drive passes in relative silence.