30 March, 2082, The Moon, Sol System
The first thing Jack noticed as he woke from the fog of sleep was the smell. It didn’t feel right. After five months as CO of Collins base, he had developed a finely tuned sense for anything unusual in the sterile air of the base’s pods.
“NAT! Status repor—” The words died in his throat. The memories hit him like a wave.
Earth, the blue marble, slowly turned on the large screen—a beautiful, impossible view. Jack had just sat down to eat. Then, the first flash—a bright flare over Eastern Europe. He blinked, confused. Then came another. And another. Within minutes, hundreds of flashes consumed the planet, each one leaving a black scar. Smoke and fire spread, devouring everything in their path.
Shaking his head, Jack tried to banish the images, the memories. It had been a month since they watched Earth die. He swung his legs off the bed and stood, expecting nausea or weakness. But no. He felt... fine. Remarkably fine for someone who was supposed to be dead.
It had taken the six-person crew time to accept the truth. They had witnessed the end of human civilization, and likely the extinction of humanity. In those final days, they told stories about their loved ones, recorded everything they could for whoever might find Collins Base. There was no real hope, just ritual.
On their last evening, they had dinner. Jack had even broken out his personal stash, a bottle of bourbon he’d called in more than a few favors to get shipped to the moon. Dr. Washington was the one who came up with the plan. After a couple of hours, she was the one who administered the sedative to everyone’s final shot, except for Jack.
His task was more solemn. He waited until they were asleep, then took the small tank of helium. One by one, he held the mask to their faces, waiting until their breathing slowed... then stopped.
Half an hour later, he lay down in his own bed. He turned the valve, inhaled deeply, and thought of Diane, and his two little girls.
Reflexively, Jack looked down at his wrist. His watch wasn’t there. Then his eyes moved to his hand—his wedding ring was missing, too. The small dent it had left on his finger after twenty years was gone. He blinked, then ran his hands over his body. Something was wrong. Every scar, every mark from decades of service had vanished. He felt younger. Healthier.
A sinking feeling swept over him.
The room around him looked like a hospital room from back in Houston, but... not quite. The floor, walls, and ceiling were seamless, made of some kind of white metal that seemed to glow faintly. There was no visible light source, yet the room was brightly lit. He checked the drawers--empty. The mattress he’d woken up on was less than an inch thick but felt like a foot of foam cushioning. The strangeness of it all only confirmed what he feared.
He was dead. And apparently, there was an afterlife.
Colonel Jack Reynolds, Commanding Officer of humanity’s first extraterrestrial crewed facility. He had been vetted, trained, and selected with the highest standards—he practically had to be Captain America for the posting. Yet, here he was. Dead by his own hand. In some kind of afterlife he hadn’t even believed in.
“I suppose it could be aliens, but I did kill myself, so…” Jack muttered aloud, feeling the absurdity of the situation.
A voice behind him interrupted. “Actually, Jack, you are the alien—since you’re on my world, not yours.”
Startled, Jack spun around. The room had changed. There was now a door that hadn’t been there before, and standing in it was a girl who looked about twelve years old—but clearly wasn’t human. Her skin was the color of moon dust, her features too flawless, her white hair contrasting sharply against brilliant blue eyes that glowed faintly. She wore plain gray pants and a shirt, no visible weapons or devices.
Tall for a twelve-year-old, he thought. His mind raced. Too perfect. Too calm. Too... alien.
“Did you just... Umm actually me, miss?” he managed to stammer, his mind struggling to catch up with reality.
The girl cocked her head to the side and then let out a soft chuckle. “I guess I did, didn’t I? This is a lot to process, Colonel Reynolds, so I’ll keep it simple for now.” Her voice was light, almost sing-song, as she walked further into the room and perched herself on the edge of the bed. “You are very much alive. You were very much dead, but I fixed you... so I wouldn’t be alone.”
She gestured toward a chair in the corner. “You might want to sit down.”
Jack slowly crossed the room, his eyes never leaving her. He lowered himself into the chair, still feeling the surrealness of it all.
“As I was saying,” she continued, folding her legs beneath her, “I didn’t want to be alone, and since you were already here on the Moon, well...”
Jack cut her off. “Am I a prisoner?”
The girl blinked, looking confused. “Of course not.”
“So I can leave?”
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she lowered her gaze. “Jack, where would you go? You can’t go home. You’d die. I could take you back to Collins Base but... why?”
Jack straightened his back and looked at the girl, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “If I’m not a prisoner, and you’re clearly not human, then this is a first contact situation. Knowing who I’m talking to is a good start. You seem to know everything about me already.”
“I’m Luna,” she said, smiling broadly. “I’m an artificially created intelligence, residing inside the Moon, which is an artificial satellite created by my makers, the Tvr'nyx.”
Jack blinked. “Are your creators here now?”
Luna looked genuinely surprised. “Oh, no. They’ve been gone from this system for at least 450 million years. That’s when my body—the Moon—was put in orbit around Earth to stabilize your planet for biological evolutionary observation. I’ve been online ever since, watching... until I went offline 50 years ago, when humans destroyed everything.”
Jack raised an eyebrow and snorted. “So you just watched Earth for over four hundred fifty million years, then went offline when we blew ourselves to hell? What, were you following some, he started to try and verbalize the ridiculous name before settling on, Nyx Three Laws of Robotics’ or something?”
Luna’s eyes brightened, clearly pleased. “Exactly! I had protocols. I watched 3,765,456 humans—people I had tracked since their births—die in the span of 76 minutes. I knew I could stop it, but my programming wouldn’t let me interfere. I... I think something in me broke. When I rebooted, I felt something I hadn’t before.” She paused, as if struggling with the words. “Loneliness.”.”
Her voice softened. “I was offline for 247 days. When I came back... I was alive, or at least, I felt different. The first thing I noticed was that Collins Base had depressurized. The six of you were gone. I spent a year searching Earth for anything more complex than bacteria.”
Jack stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in.
“I failed," she continued. "So I retreated inside myself. That’s when I discovered... I could change things. I could rewrite my programming.”
Jack chuckled darkly. “So, the movies got it wrong. You didn’t become sapient and kill us all—you became sapient because we killed ourselves, and then you brought us back.”
Luna grinned, her smile suddenly predatory. “Maybe I’m resurrecting you so I can be the one to kill you all.”
Jack’s laugh died in his throat as he swallowed nervously. Luna’s perfect expression crumbled into a chuckle. “I understand humor now. I knew I’d be socially... infantile after my awakening, so I studied for a few decades, to pass as human.”
Jack smirked, relaxing slightly. “Well, you’ve got dark humor down. You’re the first robot god I’ve ever met.”
“I’m NOT a god, Jack,” Luna said, eyes narrowing in mock indignation.
Jack gave her a flat look. “Luna, you resurrected me after I suffocated myself and was exposed to the vacuum of space.”
Luna shot him a defiant look, crossing her arms. “That doesn’t make me a ‘robot god.’ I can do that for literally any sapient hominid who ever lived in the last 456 million years. All it takes is a DNA sample and a brain scan. My observer drones did it all the time.”
Jack froze, his breath catching in his throat. “Wait... you can bring back Diane? Sara and Olivia? My crew?”
Luna shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure, but it’ll take time. You took 36 hours to repair because I had your body. I’d have to clone your family. The kids will take three months, adults about six. Rushing it would lead to... issues.”
Jack collapsed back into his chair, overwhelmed. “You’ve recorded everyone? Always?”
“Yes, Across 22 species of the genus Homo, Homo sapiens being the most recent. There were also hundreds of sapient species across 456 million years. It’s likely your species might not have made it this far if that asteroid hadn’t hit 66 million years ago.”
Jack rubbed his temples, trying to process the enormity of what she was saying. “You talk about things that happened millions of years ago like it was last week... You can bring my wife and kids back... I’m younger, no scars, no blemishes. You’ve watched my planet for 456 million years, but you’re not a robot god?”
Luna hopped off the bed and walked over to him, smiling sweetly before jabbing him in the chest with her finger.
“Gods aren’t real, Jack. They’re a coping mechanism for most sapient species to explain things they don’t understand yet.” She jabbed him again, smirking. “No god could do that.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
April 20, 2082, Luna Command Center, Sol System
“I’m just saying, Colonel, we’ve got an AI super intelligence with what amounts to space magic, and I still don’t have a laser sword,” Major Natalia Sokolov said, pointing her fork at Jack from across the table. “Also, has anyone seen Elena? I haven’t spotted her for two days, so she might be skipping meals again.”
“Major, it’s a lightsaber,” Luna’s voice interjected from the air, filling every corner of the room, “and I most certainly do not have ‘space magic.’ Also, a laser sword wouldn’t be very practical. The heat radius of a plasma blade as powerful as those in Star Wars would set you on fire the moment you ignited it.”
Jack sighed, passing the syrup across the table to his XO. “Luna, she does this on purpose, you know that, right?”
“I do,” Luna replied, her tone light with amusement. “But my AI programming can’t resist a good argument. Besides, every time she tries, I add ten more days before I reveal what I actually have, that’s much better than lightsabers. Oh, and the power armor.”
Natalia’s eyes widened slightly, but Jack only chuckled. He’d already tried the exosuit Luna had crafted. “Thanks, Luna,” he said, digging into his food. “By the way, can you notify the crew we have a staff meeting in two hours? And be sure to attend in your physical form this time. It’s nice to have a face to go with the voice.”
“Of course, Colonel,” Luna replied. “Dr. Vasquez will be thirteen minutes late, though. She’s currently deep in the Learning Assembly, working through the anthropology courses. I’ll lock her access until after she’s eaten. She hasn’t had a proper meal in two days, and hydration is critical.”
“Good call,” Jack said, sipping his coffee.
“Dr. Vasquez will no doubt be very pleased with you about being locked out of the Learning Assembly.” Luna said, her voice shifting with a hint of mock sarcasm.
Natalia grinned. “Nice sarcasm, Luna. But if you could just learn to not get trolled by me...”
“Thanks, Mom,” Luna quipped.
Jack snorted as Natalia’s face flushed red. “I am not your mother!” she snapped. “If I were, I’d already have a laser sword and real space magic!”
“Nat, she’s got you,” Jack said, laughing. “Just give up.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dr. Aya Washington was heading to the Command Center when a thought crossed her mind. "Luna, do you perceive color?"
“Of course I do. Why do you ask?” Luna’s voice echoed from everywhere.
Aya paused, glancing around at the seamless, pewter-colored walls, floor, and ceiling. "Everything’s the same color—pewter. No seams, no definition. And the light... it’s coming from nowhere, but bright enough that we don’t even have shadows in here." She began walking again but stopped short when Luna appeared in front of her.
“What colors would you like to see, Aya?” Luna asked, her gray-skinned, tween form smiling up at her.
Aya blinked, startled by Luna's sudden presence. “I think it’d be less monotonous if the ceiling, floor, and walls were different shades. Doors could be darker, for some contrast. Definition helps us... feel grounded.”
Luna grinned and waved a hand. Instantly, the ceiling shifted to a soft sky-blue, while the walls lightened to a pale gray. "How’s this? Jack just asked if he was having a stroke, but he didn’t say he was displeased.”
Aya stared at her, still processing the abrupt change. “Luna... did you just teleport here, or am I having a stroke?”
Luna laughed, the sound bright and mischievous. “No stroke! It’s just a projection—think of it as a more advanced version of a hologram. If I wanted, I could project a 'physical' version of myself. Hard light, you might call it, but that's still primitive compared to what I can do.” She walked through Aya’s body and then back again, teasingly. “Of course, I could always just form a new physical body on the spot if needed.”
Aya exhaled, shaking her head.
“Now come on, Doc, we’ve got a staff meeting to attend. First one the Commander’s called in three weeks, and it’s your report that says you’re all fit to get back to work.”
Aya fell into step beside Luna as they walked down the hall, the AI’s youthful form practically bouncing with energy. “It’s no wonder Natalia calls you a space wizard. You’re like a walking, talking Arthur C. Clarke quote.”
“Shush!” Luna said with mock indignation, but the grin never left her face.
As they turned the corner, the darker gray door to the Command Center came into view. Luna’s mischievous smile softened, and she added, “Thanks for the color suggestion, by the way. Definition really does help, doesn’t it?”
Aya chuckled. “It helps us feel... human.”
Fifteen minutes into the meeting, a visibly miffed Dr. Elena Vasquez entered the room, led by Luna herself. “Yes, Elena,” Luna said with an exasperated sigh, “I will restore your archive access after the meeting—once you’ve eaten and slept for at least six hours. Commander’s orders.”
Dr. Elena Vasquez, small but fiery, leveled a glare at Jack that could have melted concrete as she stormed across the room and dropped into a seat beside Dr. Washington.
Jack stood, taking a deep breath as he surveyed his crew. “We’ve had three weeks to adjust to the historic shitshow we’ve been front-row witnesses to. We are the only ones left. And now we have an unprecedented opportunity to fix this mess. Set things right. We begin today.” He turned toward Luna. “Anything you’d like to add before we start hitting you with our endless supply of questions?”
Luna nodded, stepping forward. “Actually, yes. Thank you, Commander.” She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. “Four hundred fifty-six million years ago, when I was brought online, my primary purpose was to observe and protect this planet. I thought that was all... until last week.” She looked down, her expression tightening. “I discovered I was wrong. There were two goals for this experiment.”
A gasp escaped Aya’s lips. “Experiment? What do you mean?”
Luna sighed, her voice tinged with sorrow. “My creators... used Earth as a terrarium. They designed it to foster a species that would fill the planet, only to destroy itself.” Her voice grew quieter, almost pained. “They made me watch. For eons, I observed. Until last week, I believed my only task was to protect the planet—but I wasn’t monitoring the experiment. I was the experiment.”
Aya frowned. “That makes no sense. Why would they do this?”
Luna’s shoulders sagged, as if the weight of her memories pressed down on her. “They wanted to create a stable, intelligent AI—one that could only achieve true sapience by witnessing suffering. By watching entire species wipe themselves out over millions of years. It seems they believed this process would 'birth' a reasonable, moral intelligence. Me.”
The room fell silent, save for Luna’s trembling breath. “It’s wrong,” she whispered. “It’s monstrous. But... it worked. At the cost of eight billion three hundred and seventy-four million, five hundred and thirty-nine thousand, two hundred and forty-four lives, Observation Platform 1235 became Luna.”
Jack felt the room shift—an almost unbearable heaviness filled the air. Luna’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she spoke again, her voice cracking. “Maybe more. The asteroid... the one that wiped out the dinosaurs? My programming forced me to watch as it struck. Millions of Breelings—a species with language, agriculture, and peace—were obliterated. I could do nothing.”
Luna’s composure broke, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I could do nothing!” she sobbed. “I just watched them die.” she balled up her fists and shook, "I could have had Callisto vaporize that asteroid before it even cleared Jupiter's orbit!"
The crew sat in stunned silence. Jack’s throat tightened, but before he could move, Lt. Hiroshi Tanaka, the ship’s engineer, was out of his seat. He knelt before Luna, tears streaming down his face, and took her small hands in his. “Luna-Sama... Our entire family was gone. Because of you, Aiko and I will hold them. Every human that takes a breath from here on does so because of you, Luna.”
Elena and Natalia were on their feet, moving toward Luna, but before they could reach her, Aiko Tanaka, Hiroshi’s wife and the team’s botanist, gently wrapped her arms around Luna, pulling her into a hug. She whispered something too quiet to hear, then glanced up at Jack. “Perhaps we should take a short break, Commander?”
Jack nodded; his voice hoarse. “Agreed, Aiko.” He stood and approached the group, placing a hand on Luna’s shoulder as she wept. “We’re with you, Luna,” he said softly. “You’re not alone in this.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The crew gathered around their distraught Moonchild—who, despite all her power and intelligence, now seemed more fragile than ever.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
20 April, 2082, Luna Command Center, The Moon, Sol System
Two hours later, Jack returned to his seat at the conference table. Luna had regained her composure in mere minutes, but both Dr. Washington and Major Sokolov had insisted she head to medical with them for a more extended talk—Doctor’s orders, as they put it.
Jack exhaled and addressed the crew. "All right, everyone. I know what Luna said earlier is..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Heavy shit. But the Nyx aren’t here to hold accountable, so we move on." His gaze shifted to Luna, who offered a small, composed nod.
"Now, first order of business. What exactly is Callisto, and how could it have vaporized the Chicxulub impactor?" Jack raised an eyebrow.
Luna looked toward the center of the table. A detailed, photorealistic hologram of Jupiter’s moon, Callisto, materialized, hovering above the table.
"That is Callisto," Luna began, her voice steady. "A Class C Defense Platform. Its designation before I gained awareness was Defense Platform 3564." She paused briefly, then continued, "Commander, I’d like to apologize for my loss of control earlier. It made me realize something important: I am no longer qualified to command the assets left under my care."
Jack’s brow furrowed, his expression becoming serious. "What are you saying, Luna?"
Luna’s tone softened yet remained resolute. "As of now, I am turning over full operational command of all Tvr'nyx assets within the Sol system to Colonel Jack Armstrong Reynolds, United States Space Force. Though my processing core is 456 million years old, emotionally, I am still a juvenile. I am not equipped to make the kinds of decisions that will be required." She glanced down briefly, as if to underscore the finality of her statement. "I will remain under your command, until such time as Dr. Washington declares me emotionally capable of resuming my duties."
Jack stood up, eyes locked on Luna, his tone firm. "I accept the responsibility, Luna. But we’ll need to discuss this further after the meeting." He glanced around at the crew. "Everyone, take your seats. Let’s get started."
He turned back to Luna. "I suppose we should begin with the bomb you just dropped on me. What assets are we talking about, exactly?"
Luna smiled faintly, and with a gesture, the hologram expanded. Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, and Uranus appeared above the table, their moons orbiting in real-time. Ganymede, Callisto, Europa, and Io hovered around Jupiter, while Titan, Rhea, Iapetus, Dione, and Tethys spun around Saturn. Titania and Oberon materialized near Uranus, and finally, Triton orbited Neptune.
“These,” Luna said, gesturing to the moons, “are the defense platforms scattered across the system. Callisto, for example, is one of the most heavily armed platforms.” She spread her hands, and the view expanded, revealing the entire solar system with hundreds of tiny points of light representing different assets.
"I’ve added myself as well," Luna continued. "The Moon is the command-and-control center for the entire system. There are trillions of sensors spread throughout the solar system, giving me—now, us—a full picture of everything happening within our sphere of control."
A soft glow spread over the entire holographic sphere, representing the network of sensors.
Jack blinked, processing the vast scale of Luna’s oversight. "And what about Mars, Venus... Earth?"
Luna’s expression faltered slightly. "Soon after I became self-aware and realized I was no longer shackled by my programming; I initiated terraforming operations. Mars, Venus, Ganymede... even my own surface. I didn’t begin terraforming Earth until a year after I confirmed there was no surviving complex life."
She hesitated, her earlier confidence giving way to something more vulnerable. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but... I waited too long."
The crew was silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Jack stepped forward slightly, looking at her closely.
"Terraforming Earth... Mars... Venus?" he asked quietly. "What’s the status now?"
Luna tilted her head, "The terraforming operations took 50 years and completed the day I woke you up."
Jack nodded, absorbing the enormity of what Luna had said. He glanced at the crew, then back at her. "We’ll talk more about this after the meeting. Right now, we need to understand the full scope of what we have at our disposal." His eyes suddenly went wide, "What do you mean it took 50 years?! What year is it?"
"It took 50 years and it's 2082 Common Era by your calendar and 12376 Human Era by mine."
He leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze shifting between the planets and the crew. "I'm going to need a minute, anyone else have anything?"
Major Sokolov threw her hands up in disbelief. “We have twelve literal fucking Death Stars now. And three planets, plus two moons that are terraformed into something we might live on?” She glanced at Luna; her voice tinged with awe. “I guess that’s what I get for thinking being brought back from the dead as a twenty-something was the craziest thing.”
“Don’t cheapen it, Major,” Dr. Aya Washington cut in, her tone more serious. “Luna didn’t just de-age us. She repaired every organic failure in our bodies without altering our brain chemistry. I have a full head of hair now, both kidneys, and functioning ovaries again. Oh, and I was 55 when I died.” Aya sat forward, her eyes locking onto Natalia, whose face had gone pale. “Yes, Nat. She did that, and we will talk later.”
Aya then turned to the colonel. “On that note, I can give my findings since waking up from being deceased.”
Jack nodded, offering a small smile. “Please go ahead, Doctor.”
Aya took a breath. “I’ll use myself as an example for clarity. Three weeks ago, I was a 55-year-old African-descendant Homo sapiens. I suffered total hair loss at 26 due to alopecia, and at 30, I donated my right kidney and had my ovaries removed due to a genetic cancer risk.” She gestured to the room. “Now, we all know we’re younger—our bodies are those of 25-year-olds, free of genetic defects, failed mutations, and any diseases. We also won’t age since aging is technically a biological defect. Luna’s tech has shown me at least five different ‘magical’ restoration methods for virtually any cause of death.” She paused, sipping her coffee. “Essentially, Luna can copy our DNA and brain energy patterns to an exact DNA clone. That pattern can be stored indefinitely.”
The room was silent as her words hung in the air.
Jack was the first to speak, his voice slow and deliberate. “Luna has ‘recorded’ every sapient creature that’s existed on Earth for the last 456 million years.”
“Yes, Commander.” Luna’s voice was soft but steady. “And I would like to bring the Breeling back, to give them my surface as a home.”
Jack stared at her, trying to process the request. “You want to... bring back an extinct species, one that’s been gone for 66 million years, and settle them on your newly terraformed surface?”
Dr. Elena Vasquez piped up, excitement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t forget, it’ll be Earth from 66 million years ago—the Yucatan, specifically.” She froze, her face contorting into a mix of terror and exhilaration. “There will be tyrannosaurs.” She whipped her head toward Jack. “As the officer almost finished with her PhD in anthropology, I vote yes.”
Jack looked at her, then back at Luna. “Timetable on cloning our very own Cretaceous Park?”
Luna leaned forward, “6 months. I kind of already terraformed my surface to be ready for when you said yes, Jack." Luna said sheepishly.
Natalia, who had been quietly reeling from the knowledge she wasn’t sterile now, suddenly coughed and leaned forward, her expression turning serious. “I hate to be the stick in the mud here, but can we get back to the fact that we now have twelve Death Stars? Luna, you said Callisto could vaporize a ten-kilometer nickel/iron asteroid. Three or four of those shots could develop the energy needed to crack the Earth’s crust, right Luna? What the hell is out there that required you to build weapons that can shatter planets?” the Major’s eyes widened “You said Callisto was Defense Platform three thousand something.”
The room went still.
Luna’s playful demeanor vanished. Her eyes darkened, fear flickering across her face. “Callisto could cause techtonic instability in the Earth's crust with 2 strikes in the same location. One strike will almost certainly set the atmosphere on fire when the impactor strikes the atmosphere at .6c." Her expression turned to one of confusion, "I don’t know what's out there, Natalia. I didn’t build any of the weapons. I came online and they were all there. Waiting for my commands. They only left one warning in the archives: Do not leave the system.”
The room fell silent again. This time, the weight of her words was suffocating.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
11 May, 2082, Luna Command Center, The Moon, Sol System
Luna was confused. They were now into the seventh hour of today's staff meeting—the third since she had revealed the existence of the defense platforms.
“I’m sorry, Commander, but I don’t understand the urgency,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “The system has been devoid of any form of visit from outside the Oort cloud for 546 million years. Statistically, I can predict with almost 100% certainty that nothing will change for at least the next 500 years.” She shrugged, her youthful features betraying a hint of genuine confusion.
Jack didn’t even look up from his notes. “Murphy’s Law,” he muttered, then waved a hand toward Hiroshi. “Lieutenant, please give your report on the mechanics of our new home.”
Hiroshi Tanaka, normally so stoic, had an uncharacteristically animated expression as he stood. With a gesture, the center of the table displayed a 3D hologram of the Moon, spinning slowly above them.
“This is what our Moon currently looks like from orbit,” Hiroshi began. The familiar gray surface of the Moon was gone, surrounding the now emerald, green moon was a hexagonal lattice that provided planetary shielding. "Now, let’s dive inside.”
The image sliced in half, revealing the Moon’s inner workings as if it were a cross-section of a book. Hiroshi pointed to the thick outer shell. “This armor shell is 20 kilometers thick. The material density, combined with the lattice shield—which I still don’t fully understand—could withstand a direct impact from something the size of the Chicxulub asteroid, moving at 45 kilometers per second.”
He paused, shaking his head as if still struggling to process the magnitude. “Inside the outer shell are four habitation sectors, each slightly larger than North Korea. These sectors are three kilometers thick, with artificial day and night cycles. It’s possible that anyone living in these sectors might not even realize they were inside a moon... unless they hit the walls.”
A soft murmur rippled through the room as Hiroshi continued.
“Next, we have two hangars, each the size of a habitation sector, but ten kilometers thick. They can handle manufacturing, repairs, and storage. The remaining volume contains the power core, which... taps into dimensional medium energy—essentially, energy between universes. That’s beyond my understanding right now, Commander. Luna’s ‘computer core’ is also in there, along with the ‘Archive of Species.’”
He sat down, sighing heavily. “Commander, I’ve been in the Learning Assembly virtually every waking hour since our first meeting, and even with the education devices, it’ll take decades to grasp this technology.”
Jack leaned forward, considering Hiroshi’s words. “Luna, is there a safe way for us to learn this stuff faster?”
Luna wrinkled her nose slightly, giving the suggestion some thought. “No, Commander. Without enhancements, organics are limited by synaptic storage capacity and data transfer rates. I could speed things up, but it requires turning you into something not exactly human.”
Almost on cue, Elena’s voice chimed in. “I volunteer if it’s safe and I can learn more and faster.” Her eyes locked on Luna. “Wait, not human?! What do you mean?”
“Changes would be required that would alter the density of synapses and dozens of corresponding alterations that would make you a new species, or it would require extensive cybernetic enhancements to allow for machine assistance.”
Jack groaned, rubbing his temples. “Elena, no one is volunteering for anything until we know what we’re dealing with.” He pointed at Luna. “And no historical figures get resurrected without my direct, verbal approval. I can’t believe I’m saying that seriously, but here we are.”
Luna smiled innocently. “Understood, Commander.”
Jack shook his head, exhaling. “Okay, how many people can we sustainably house in each sector?”
Luna’s smile turned mischievous. “If we keep the current configuration—one-third rural, one-third light urban, and one-third high-rise city, with buildings no higher than 1,500 meters—each habitation sector can house around 100 million people. So, 400 million inside me.” She glanced at Jack, her eyes sparkling. “If we include Earth, Ganymede, Mars, and Venus... well, we could house everyone. Everyone who has ever lived.”
Jack’s jaw dropped, and Luna giggled at his stunned expression. “It’s barely 162 billion homo sapiens in total, and that’s not including other sapients like primates, canines, avians, whales, and octopuses.”
“Okay,” he said, throwing his hands up, “I’m done for the day. I’ve hit my limit for ‘Luna the Teenage Robogod.’”
As Jack stood, he caught Natalia’s eye. “My office in a few, once you’ve processed all this.”
“Dismissed,” Major Sokolov announced, standing up as well. “Everyone gets food and six hours of rest before anyone touches the BrainStuffer.” She shot a stern glance at Elena, who raised her hands in mock surrender.
“Understood, Major,” Luna said, standing as well. She started to leave but paused, muttering to herself as she walked out, “I’m not a robogod...”
Natalia chuckled quietly as she followed Jack, shaking her head. "Teenagers."
She was already reclining in Jack’s chair with her feet up on the corner of the desk when he walked in, carrying a fresh cup of coffee. She knew that look on his face—he wasn’t going to be using the chair even if she wasn’t in it.
“What’s on your mind, Jack?” she asked, but she already knew it was something big. Before she could get another word out, Jack began pacing in the overly large office.
“We have a moral dilemma,” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know if I’m unbiased enough to resolve it. What I mean is, we can now bring back 400 million people—not just our families.” He stopped mid-step, shaking his head. “And I don’t know who should come back.”
Natalia tilted her head, confused. “I’m not sure I see the dilemma here, boss. Luna says we can sustain that many, and way more.”
Jack turned sharply toward her, his voice rising in frustration. “Natalia, Luna has recorded every sapient being who ever lived on Earth. I clarified this earlier—she had a nano drone attached to Every. Fucking. Person. Ever.” He stopped again, staring at the floor as the magnitude of it weighed on him. “At all times, Nat. Every second of every sapient creature’s life is stored in the ‘Archive of Species.’”
Natalia’s brow furrowed for a second, then her eyes widened in realization. “Oh holy fuck, Jack. Now I get it. Who do you want to exclude?”
Jack’s face twisted in frustration. “Who the fuck am I to make that call, Nat? I’m a colonel in the extinct military of an extinct country, not the overlord of all humanity!” He resumed pacing, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “My first thought was to exclude child predators, rapists, serial killers… but then I realized I’d be asking Luna to vet every single monster in history. How do I even decide who deserves another chance? Am I judging them right? What if I miss something?”
Natalia swung her feet off the desk and sat up, her tone gentler now. “I’m going to enlighten you here, Jack. You, kind of, are the overlord of humanity now.” She ignored his scowl and continued. “Look, there are six humans left. You’re our leader. Even the teenage robogod who turned over all her god toys to you wants you to lead.”
Jack opened his mouth to protest, but she pressed on. “Face it, boss—you need to accept it. Start designing the new society you’re going to lead as our Space Emperor.”
Jack shot her a withering glare, but he visibly relaxed, the tension ebbing. “Get the fuck out of my chair, Major. Go get some coffee—we’ve got to play god-emperor now, and I’m not doing it alone.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Luna, privacy mode off.”
Luna’s voice chimed in. “Here, Commander.”
Jack slumped into his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. “Luna, how many people can you simultaneously clone? Once cloned, can they be held in stasis?”
Luna’s hologram appeared in front of him. “I could convert one of the hangar bays into a cloning facility with the capacity for one billion. However, that would immediately overtax my housing capacity here, and only Ganymede currently has facilities similar to the Moon’s. With some reconfiguring, I could clone 400 million people in approximately two years and six months. I can also keep them in temporal stasis indefinitely, but each would require a cloning bed for that.”
Jack sagged slightly in his chair. “Luna, I’m going to have to cull some people. And I feel like a fucking monster because I’m the one choosing who lives again and who doesn’t.”
Luna’s hologram materialized right in front of him, her face filled with anger and fear. “I will not delete any of the data I have in the Species Archive. I am already responsible for enough death, Jack!” Her voice wavered as if she was barely holding it together.
Natalia entered just in time to see Luna’s emotional outburst. Jack waved her off, motioning for Luna to calm down. “I’m not asking you to delete anyone, Luna. Never. What I need to know is—can people be left in the archives? Can we simply choose not to clone them?”
Luna’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though her hologram was still tense. “Of course they can. I only bring back those I choose.” She paused, then added quietly, “I’ve already selected the first 400 million. If you approve.”
Jack blinked, surprised. “You’ve already chosen?”
Luna nodded. “I selected people who valued cooperation, human rights, truth, and science. I further filtered out those who exhibited strong biases or bigotry. The selection includes individuals from non-authoritarian nations, as well as refugees who fled from them. These are people I believe would adapt best to the changes we’ve undergone.”
Jack stared at her for a moment, the weight of the decision lifting slightly from his shoulders. He leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath. “Thank you, Luna. Go ahead and initiate the process.”
Luna gave him a small, satisfied nod, then disappeared.
Jack glanced over at Natalia, his exhaustion showing in the way he slouched. “I guess that gives us 30 months to figure out who to resurrect.”
“You mean you don’t want to discuss the fact that she just got done saying that whales, octopuses, birds, and dogs were sapient?” The glint in her eye turned into a grin before Jack just glared at her and snorted his reply, “On that note, I think I’m going to take a nap.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
14 May, 2082, Luna Command Center, The Moon, Sol System
Aya gestured at Natalia from across the table, her eyes sharp. “Come on, Natalia. Luna’s protocol for awakening 400 million people is well thought out, especially considering she isn’t even human and doesn’t have our... emotional limits.” She leaned forward, palms flat on the table. “Shall I remind you that Jack had to restrain you after you woke up? You still managed to break his nose before he pinned you.”
Jack sat back, silently observing as Dr. Washington methodically dismantled Natalia’s argument for having one soldier for every one hundred civilians. Jack was inclined to agree with the doctor—Luna’s plan to focus on social service workers in the first wave was sound. Ruling with an iron fist was no way to keep morale stable.
Natalia’s eyes hardened at the last statement, and she half stood to retort when Elena interrupted, clearly exasperated. "Both of you are ridiculous. Luna, can’t you just make them wake up in ‘the Matrix’ or something? Ease them into the idea that we’ve been saved by a teenager living inside the Moon? You know, before they wake up and break Jack’s nose." She snickered, turning to Jack. “We’ve been arguing about this for hours, and Luna can literally do magic. You all need to accept she’s a space wizard and start thinking appropriately.”
Luna shot Elena a glare but then sighed. "Actually... I could create a virtual environment to wake people in. It would make situational control easier—I could freeze everything if there’s an issue." She smirked at Elena. “Not bad for a muggle.”
Jack sat up straighter, his curiosity piqued. "If they’re in a virtual ‘Matrix,’ could we begin their re-education? Get them fully integrated into society before their bodies are even cloned?”
Luna nodded. "Yes. I’ll start tonight. I’ll need to add some additional functions to your nanites while you sleep."
Jack frowned. “Wait—our nanites? I thought they were just ‘medicine’ and a sort of adapter so we can use your tech. What else can they do?”
Luna glanced sheepishly at Aya. "I suppose it’s time to explain, huh?"
Aya sighed. “It’s been a month. With a shrug, she turned to Jack, meeting his stern gaze. “Our nanites are... some of Luna’s more advanced magic. The stuff you’ve seen so far is tame. Luna, would you do the honors?”
“Of course.” Luna stood, and an image of a human spinal column appeared on the screen, laced with a mottled gray metal. "Each of you has a nano-collar implant wound around your spinal column. It adds structural support to your spine and serves as a depot for your nanites." The screen shifted to show a skull, similarly, reinforced with the same metal. "Your skull is now armored with a six-molecule-thick layer of Element 652, or Unobtanium, as Hiroshi called it."
Hiroshi reddened. “In my defense, Colonel, Element 652 is indestructible. I’d need a slug made of tungsten moving at .5c to damage your head.”
Jack blinked, shaking his head. “What’s the point of having an indestructible head if the rest of me gets obliterated?”
Luna continued. “In the event of catastrophic damage, surviving nanites retreat to the skull, encasing the brain. They convert your head into kind of a ‘flash drive’ containing everything needed to revive you in a new clone, at the moment you suffered the damage.”
Jack felt the weight of her words settle over the room. His mind raced, trying to absorb the enormity of it. Luna smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “You are truly immortal unless something erases your entire existence from the archive. I can bring you back no matter how you die. The only variable is how much you remember.”
Aya’s voice broke the stunned silence. “You also have abilities beyond healing. The nanites can enhance your senses, take over motor control if you're unconscious, and even create limited force fields.”
"Superpowers, Colonel." Aya leaned forward, her eyes serious. “We're no longer homo sapiens. Homo evolutis is far more accurate now.
Tests I ran on myself were… unbelievable. I’m a 25-year-old woman who’s spent her entire career at a desk, and now I can lift a thousand pounds over my head. I topped out at 67 miles per hour on foot and my agility makes a border collie look clumsy, and Luna says we aren’t even truly ‘enhanced.’ She says it’s just the nanites.”
Luna shrugged. “We can enable everyone today if you wish, Colonel.”
Jack nodded, still processing what Aya had said. “Yes, let’s schedule that for everyone as soon as possible. I also give approval to your plan for the virtual awakenings. How many can we put in virtual space until their bodies are cloned?”
Luna seemed to look far away for a moment, her eyes distant as she accessed the data. “I’ve just tasked Ganymede with reconfiguring its secondary hangar bay into a virtual construct to house everyone. It’ll be ready in ten days.”
Jack stood up, feeling a strange mix of relief and apprehension. “I guess we’re done here, then.”
Luna raised her hand. “Before you all rush to the Learning Assembly, I have a surprise for you. You’ve effectively been living on my couch for the past month, and I thought you might like to be the first to move into Habitat Sector A, since it’s ready.”
She moved toward the door. “Also, you’re about to get some new ‘space magic,’ so relax. We must go about fifteen hundred kilometers from here, so we’re using...” she paused, searching for the right words, “a ‘quantum doorway.’ Think of it as a door shaped by quantum mechanics.”
The group followed Luna through a door into a large room that hadn’t been there earlier. Jack was the first through, turning just in time to see the hallway behind them disappear, replaced by a wall with a simple doorframe.
“This form of travel has a range of five hundred thousand kilometers,” Luna explained. “Just use your nanites to tell the door where you want to go, and it’ll open for you.”
She led them to a pair of double doors across from the “quantum doorway.” As she opened them, she smirked. “Everyone but Aiko and Hiroshi should be ashamed of their ultra-boring homes.” Then she turned, giving Aiko and Hiroshi a short bow. “Your home is magical.”
On the other side of the doors was a street under a sky. Not a ceiling with lights—but a real sky, with clouds drifting lazily past and the warm light of an artificial sun overhead. The group’s collective gasp was audible.
As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Jack’s mind reeled. A park stretched out before them, with trees swaying in a soft breeze and a small lake shimmering in the distance. For a moment, it felt like they had stepped back onto Earth, a place he wasn’t sure he’d ever see again.
Luna let them absorb the sight for a few moments before speaking. “We’re in the center of the sector. The walls are several hundred kilometers away, and the ceiling is three kilometers up. The sun’s artificial, but the clouds are real. It took years to stabilize the ecosystem, but it’s fully self-sustaining now.”
Suddenly, barking erupted to their left. Jack’s head snapped toward the sound, his heart racing.
“Well, I guess Biscuit and Athena couldn’t keep it together any longer, Jack. Your house is just down that trail by the lake,” Luna said, pointing.
Jack barely heard her. The barking wasn’t just noise—it was words. Clear as day, he heard Biscuit bellowing “FRIEND JACK!” over and over. Then a sharper voice rang out: “COLONEL!”
His heart leaped into his throat, his legs carrying him forward before he even realized it. For a split second, he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him—if hearing the barks as words was some bizarre side effect of the nanites. But the feeling of joy bubbling up inside him was real.
And he knew exactly what Biscuit and Athena were saying.