Commander Harrison Teague felt the weight of two Earths press him back into the crash couch as he thought about the Moon. At five hours' travel time, he found the trip too short for a good nap, so he focused instead on the challenge that faced him.
Go up there and see what’s going on, his old friend General Steen had told him. I need someone I can trust.
That last part echoed through his mind over and over, because it troubled him the most. Running the Moonbase was no great shakes. Established for nearly ten years, it barely made the press anymore. Especially when there were so many more glamorous worlds to conquer. Mars. Ganymede. Europa. Titan. But with things coming to a head on Earth, coupled with the recent scandal on the Moon, Luna Station was starting to show up in the newsfeeds again. This was an important job, one he did not take lightly.
I need someone I can trust.
Teague hadn’t been to the Moon since the last years of the Artemis program and had made a name for himself as mission commander when a power failure stranded a small crew of scientists at the lunar south pole without life support. It had been a quick, daring rescue, and suddenly he was a celebrity for a few months, making the talk show circuit like a deer in headlights, wondering what the hell had happened. Teague wondered, and not for the first time, if that was the real reason Steen wanted him. Most of all he wondered if this management change was actually more of a PR stunt.
Glancing to his left, he saw his new chief medical officer, Skyler Cole, wincing with discomfort.
“You OK?”
She shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut. “Thrust gravity makes me nauseous.” She opened her eyes and fixed him with an icy stare. “You know that.”
“They have pills for that, you know,” Teague said with a grin.
Dr. Cole shook her head, muttering something obscene under her breath. Teague stared at her, bemused. This was the kind of thing that would have earned him a nipple twist back when they were still married.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she said after a long moment. “I’ve gotta be crazy for coming up here.” The phrase with you hung unsaid but present between them.
“I need the best,” Teague said flatly. “You’re the best.”
“So what the hell’s going on up there, anyway?” she asked after a beat.
Teague shrugged as much as his safety harness and crash webbing would allow. “I’m not sure. All I know is they’ve ousted the current commander and I am to replace him. Steen said he needs someone up there he can trust, but wouldn’t go into specifics.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” The good doctor squirmed in the crash couch’s restraints.
“No, it doesn’t. And until I figure out what’s going on, I want to surround myself with people I can trust.”
“I thought you hired me because I’m the best.”
Teague smiled. “That too.”
“I’m glad you trust me. After all this time.”
Teague stared at a display in front of him. It was tied to the pilot’s main console. The gray, pockmarked sphere of Earth’s only satellite grew ever larger in the viewer. “It’s been eight years. Sooner or later, you gotta move on.”
Skyler giggled. “Well, look at us. Moving on.”
Teague gestured to his screen. “Onward and upward.”
As they got closer, the screen facing the doctor switched on, and she was treated to an identical view of their destination, much of it gray, cratered emptiness. But as the face of the Moon grew to fill the entire screen they began to make out man-made structures, the architecture of Luna 1. Low, wide domes dimpled the landscape, connected by long, narrow tubes covered in lunar regolith.
Cole squinted through the final burn required to slow the shuttle’s descent, and they landed with a heavy thud. Teague felt the force of gravity lessen, moving off his chest and down to his feet where it belonged, though there was less of it than his brain told him there should be. “We’re home,” he said.
“I’m not nauseous anymore,” said Cole. “Welcome to the Moon.”
When they were clear to disembark, Teague unstrapped from the crash couch, grabbed his small duffel from the storage compartment beneath his seat (the first rule of space travel is pack light), and headed for the exit. “I hope our ride is here.”
Cole squinted at him. “Ride?”
"I thought you might enjoy taking the scenic route, and we’re still an hour from the base by LTV.”
Cole arched an eyebrow. “LTV?"
"Lunar Terrain Vehicle."
Dr. Cole cracked a smile. "Don’t you mean Moon buggy?”
Teague groaned, which made her giggle. “You boys and your acronyms.”
“Fine. Lunar terrain vehicle.”
“Moon buggy.”
Another groan.
“Neil Armstrong called it a Moon buggy.”
“Anyway,” Teague said, trying to get back on topic, “I’ve arranged for a special transport.”
Cole’s thin mouth stretched into a smile. “If you’re telling me you got a horse and carriage up here—”
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Teague laughed, tugging on his left gauntlet. “Nothing quite so romantic. But I think you’ll be impressed, nonetheless.”
They put on their helmets. Teague worked the airlock, and Dr. Cole followed him into it. When the pressures had equalized he opened the outer airlock, stepping down a short ramp. In a moment they were standing on the surface of the Moon.
Cole gasped.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Teague, stretching out his gloved hand.
“Yes,” said Cole. “Now I’m almost glad you dragged me up here.”
“Wait,” said Teague. “The best is yet to come.”
A silvery dot appeared over the gray dimple of the environmental dome nearest them. It grew in size, resolving into the shape of a cylinder. Long and blocky, it had two sets of landing gear and a forward nodule that Dr. Cole reasoned must be the cockpit. It moved silently, and the good doctor had to remind herself that there was no atmosphere to conduct the vibrations coming from the ship’s engines.
It’s faster than an LTV, and a bit more comfortable,” said Teague as they watched the ship get closer.
It made a slow circle and landed a few yards away, throwing up a gray cloud of lunar dust. Teague waited for the worst of the dust to settle, then led the way, trudging carefully across the scarred and tracked-up regolith in the one-sixth gravity.
He repeated the airlock procedure with practiced ease, and the two of them entered the ship. They stowed their belongings in the webbing bolted just inside and made their way to the cockpit, sliding open the flimsy door. A similarly suited figure sat at the controls, helmet off, his back to them. He craned his head around as much as the suit would allow.
“There you are,” said the pilot, beaming brightly. “Up here slumming with us Moon peasants again.”
“How are you, Rick? It’s been an age,” said Teague after he removed his helmet. “Sky, this is Rick Casey. Best damn jump pilot on the Moon.”
The pilot smiled up at her. He had dark hair and gray eyes that reminded her of the lunar surface outside the cockpit windows. “Don’t be too impressed,” he told her. “I’m also the only jump pilot on the Moon.”
“Jump pilot?” the doctor asked.
“Yeah, it’s just what they call it up here. On Earth, I guess you’d call me a bush pilot. In fact, back on Earth, I used to do that.”
“Rick’s father and I served together,” said Teague. “Then, afterward, he was ground control at Cape Canaveral. I’ve watched this guy go from a cocky, snot-nosed kid to a cocky, snot-nosed pilot.”
“Hey, take it easy on me, old man. It’s your first day back.”
“Well,” said Teague, taking a seat right behind him, “take it easy on us, will ya?”
Casey chuckled. “I haven’t lost anyone yet. Strap in. We’re ready for takeoff.”
Skyler sat next to her ex-husband and strapped in. A second later she felt the ship vibrate as the thrusters came to life underneath them. For some reason, it was more frightening than even the big shuttle had been, and she gripped the edges of her chair tightly. Teague pretended not to notice. He glanced over the ship’s controls instead and noticed a photograph stuck to a maintenance panel. It showed a woman with dark, short-cropped hair wearing a Luna 1 command uniform.
The ship rose and flew toward the pale domes of Luna 1. She watched a dark thread of metal curve away beneath them. "What's that?" she asked, pointing.
"That's the unfinished mag-lev track," said Casey. "Ran out of money."
Skyler traced the unfinished track as it wound its way toward the equally unfinished lunar hotel, a small complex of squat buildings, like domes dotted with a multitude of windows. So many uncompleted projects dotted the landscape that it felt like someone had left their trash everywhere. Between this and the habitat domes of the Moonbase, the dead gray surface looked relatively untouched, pockmarked by craters. If there were any footprints or buggy tracks they were too small and far away to make out.
Skyler blinked a few times. The unending grayness was overwhelming. She was reminded of snow blindness and wondered if people suffered from something similar up here. She reasoned that she was about to find out.
They made the journey to Luna 1 in twenty minutes, Skyler’s mouth agape as she watched the eerie, ethereal Moonscape unfold beneath them. The gray domes were limned in sunlight and sprinkled with a fine dusting of lunar regolith, the silicates within it catching the starlight and making it look like sugar.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“What?” said Teague, who had been saying something to Casey.
“The Moondust.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “It’s pretty all right, but don’t go running it through your fingers, even with gloves on. Stuff’s like powdered glass.”
“Really messes with some of our equipment,” said Casey in agreement. “Well, here we are, folks. Home sweet home. Or should I say dome sweet dome?”
Skyler groaned at the joke, which got a laugh out of Teague and his pilot friend, who set the ship down next to a long node poking from one end of the nearest dome.
They heard a heavy metallic thunk as the node connected to the ship’s airlock with magnetic docking clamps. Casey threw a switch on his console and there was a hiss of air as the pressure between the jump ship and the connector equalized.
“Welcome to Luna 1,” Casey said.
“Thanks,” said Teague. “You coming with?”
“No. I’ve got to wait on the outgoing commander. Gotta take him back to the shuttle you two rode in on. Then I gotta refuel and take a load of supplies over to the lunar observatory.”
“Busy man.”
Casey shrugged, no easy feat in his bulky Moonsuit. “No rest for the wicked.”
“Buy you a drink later?”
The pilot flashed him a smile. “You better.”
Teague unstrapped and stood, grabbing his helmet. Skyler followed suit. When they were through the airlock she said, “You two want to be alone?”
Teague shook his head. “Is that any way you treat your commander?”
Skyler punched him lightly on the shoulder. “After all these years do you really need to ask?”
Teague sighed. “You’re going to make me regret this aren’t you?”
Skyler smiled. “You catch on quick, Commander.”
The docking node was little more than a wide, semi-flexible tunnel connecting Casey’s jump ship to Luna 1 proper. Teague and the doctor moved through it single file because of their luggage, Teague leading the way. There was another airlock on the opposite end, and they cycled through it, removing their helmets once they were on the other side.
The docking and loading area was crude in comparison to the rest of Luna 1 Teague had seen in still images and videos. The acrid, burnt tang of oxidizing regolith stung his nostrils as he stood there getting his bearings. Everywhere people milled about, wearing expressions ranging from serious concentration to mild boredom.
A familiar face swam into view out of the gaggle of people moving through the docking area. He had seen it many times on newsfeeds the past few weeks. Luna 1’s outgoing commander.
“You must be Teague,” the man said. His face wore a look of grim resignation, like Napoleon being exiled to Elba. Two tall, gruff-looking men in UN security gray bookended him.
“Yes,” Teague said. “And you’re Donovan.”
Travis Donovan, former commander of Luna 1, nodded once and extended his hand. His handshake was cold and firm, and there was an object in his palm. The look on his face was urgent, pleading, and Teague glanced at his guards before taking the object and palming it, carefully sliding it into his jumpsuit pocket.
“I wish they had given me more time to debrief you,” Donovan said. “It’s a regular hornet’s nest up here. Just watch your back and don’t trust anyone.”
Teague opened his mouth to reply but Donovan was already gone, the security team escorting him to a transport bound for Earth, his head down, a single duffel slung over his shoulder.
“Who was that?” Skyler said, coming to a stop beside him.
“The outgoing commander.”
They stared after Donovan until he became lost in the crowd, then headed up the tunnel into Luna proper. Teague touched the long, ridged shape in his pocket. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt like a memory stick. He decided to leave it where it was until he was alone.
Don't trust anyone.