"Hold your arms out," Harding's adjutant ordered sharply. TAC uniforms are steel gray with white trim. I'll look like a moon slug, same as the other TAC dolts, but I don't give a damn. Hot dog! I get to stay on the moon. I stood silently as the young officer angrily loaded me up with three TAC uniforms, a hygiene kit and two meal packs.
"Joey, are you upset?" I asked, looking into his glistening green eyes. The young man combed his prematurely thin blonde hair over his scalp with a neat part above one ear and wasn't much taller than me, which made him easy to pick on.
"You shouldn't have come back Frank, and my name is Joseph."
"Relax Joe, Harding and I worked it out. Everything's fine. I'm TAC now, just like you."
"You are not like me."
"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, we can butch you up."
"You're trouble Frank. You've put the Commander in an awkward position."
"How's that?"
"ULS listed you as a no show for your shift. They think you quit," Joseph said placing a watch on top of the stack I balanced on my arms.
I laughed. "I did it? Nobody knows? I hijacked a ride to the Moon without getting caught."
"We caught you. You didn't get away with anything. Word will get to TAC Command. Then Harding will be in more trouble than you."
"But I'm TAC now."
"You'll wear the uniform, but you aren't TAC. I can't put your name on a roster, that would be asking for trouble."
"Hey, don't I get glasses to go with the watch?" I asked eyeing the watch balancing at the top of my stack.
"You get a watch, that's it." Joe said in a snappy tone.
"I can't do much without the lens."
"You aren't supposed to do anything. Your lucky to get a watch. Like I said, your trouble Frank. Don't make things worse for yourself or Harding."
"I don't want to make trouble for Harding. I half expected to be sitting in the brig by now."
"If it were up to me, you would be. For some unfathomable reason he believes you deserve a second chance. You are to make haste for Beresheet Six. Do not divert or delay. Get going."
I put my chin on the stack to keep it from falling as I walked. A TAC security guard stood at attention next to the airlock giving me the evil eye. I read his name tag, Montague.
I stared back. "I've got my eye on you Monty."
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I'll see Wanda again, but not tonight. I've been ordered to get my butt to Beresheet Six. I bet Monty and Joe will be watching. This feels like a test. If I can't get this right how can Harding trust me with other duties?
Maybe I'm being paranoid. What if they aren't watching? Everybody's busy with finishing touches on the hotel. Why would they waste their time tracking me? I could zip over to the bio quint for a quick minute and say hello. A slight delay on my way to B-six to see a friend. What's the big deal with that?
I'm a friggin wimp. I drove to B-six. It's eight clicks northeast of the base. I took the road that leads to the landing pads for about five clicks then made a hard right leaving the road and headed east to venture out over the virgin moonscape.
I guess I'll find out how the rover does on regolith. The ride through the soft gray grit was bumpy. I had to pay attention not to get stuck in a patch of deep fluff or drive into small craters, not to mention zigzagging around rock piles poking out of the gray sand. After a few minutes I spotted rover tracks and followed them. I wasn't the first rover to visit Beresheet Six. The track wound around the base of a curved hill. From the look of it the hill is ejecta from a large circular crater. I followed the track across the desolate moonscape headed toward the northern rim of Malapert crater, a long, deep depression that runs north to south all the way around the eastern base of Mons Malapert before dropping into Haworth crater. If this formation were on Earth it would be considered an enormous deep canyon.
There have been ice mining expeditions deep down in the darkest depths of Malapert and Haworth craters, places where the sun hasn't shined for a billion years. They found ice, tons of it. Duh, these are some of the coldest places in the solar system. The problem is the walls of these craters are steep. You've got to get down there, mine it and get it back to base for processing and storage. They've had better luck mining ice at Shackleton, but not here, not yet at least.
There's a plan to build a road that will start near B-six at the northern lip of Malapert crater where the slope isn't as steep, but that hasn't happened yet.
I see the Beresheet habitat module in the distance oddly illuminated by the low angle of the sun. The white module with gold insulation wrapping the oxygen tanks makes it stand out from its stark surroundings. Large solar arrays fan out from the sides like wings that will never fly. It's beautiful in a weird way sitting alone, out of place, surrounded by six shades of black and gray. It's strange to think this lander will rest in this forlorn, god forsaken spot for eternity.
I docked the rover. Before opening the airlock, I pulled on an air mask and grabbed a flashlight. Who knows how long this thing has been sitting empty? The air is probably stale. I looked through the airlock window. I couldn't see much the habitat was dark and empty. All systems are off. It felt spooky. I shivered as I opened the airlock feeling a wave of cold air roll over my feet. I pulled myself through the dark cold dock tube. My mask fogged up when I stepped into to the habitat. I wiped the visor, but the beads of moisture were on the inside. My flashlight cut a blurry beam through the darkness reflecting off stark white walls. My body shivered; you know, the kind that makes your spine quiver like an orgasm.
The habitat was frickin cold. I took another step scanning with my light for switches, but I couldn't see anything. Of course, it's cold there's never as much sunlight near the rim of Malapert crater as there is at the base. Was my mind trying to justify the cold? I felt burning needle pricks all over. I had the urge to unzip my uniform. I tapped my watch squinting to read the temperature readout. It flashed one zero two K. Oh heck, that's minus two hundred seventy-six Fahrenheit.
My brain jolted awake. I'm being flash frozen! If I don't move, I'm going end up like freeze-dried green peas. I turned, took two stiff steps to the dock tube, and dove into the rover. I blasted the heat and cranked up the fans. I moved to the front of the rover and got as high as I could. Heat rises you know. I stood hunched over on the passenger seat, rubbing my frozen hands praying I wouldn't die and wishing to god I had a parka. Several minutes passed before I stopped shivering. I hate frozen peas.
After twenty minutes of staring at the moon I was sweating. I figured heat from the rover would have warmed up the habitat by now. I decided to explore the habitat again. I went through the dock tube entering the dark enclosure. It was chilly but not freezing. I flashed my beam around; the habitat was a long narrow space.
I checked my watch. The temp was thirty degrees Fahrenheit, cool, but it wouldn't kill me. The O2 was good so I pulled off the mask. Using the flashlight, I spotted a panel of switches just inside the dock. Dang me, they were all written in Hebrew. Might as well be Russian. I used watch's camera to focus on the characters and the watch displayed English. Thank God. I hovered the watch over the largest switch, Main Power. I flipped it ON. Nothing. I flipped all the switches on as I passed the watch over them; water pump, heater, air circ., C02 filter, lights, whatever it was I flipped it on.
The interior was suddenly brilliant white.
I blinked. "That'll wake you up!"
I looked around the small habitat. It looked empty and sterile. The walls and ceiling were glossy white. Beyond the switches the wall was filled with cabinet doors and drawers with sky blue handles. There was a deep work shelf above the cabinets, maybe to be used to as a lab for experiments. Along the back wall there were two chairs sitting back to back. The walls in front of the chairs were covered with screens and controls. Along the right side were two bunks, one above the other like bunk beds, each had a curtain draped across. Beyond the bunks was the commode.
The habitat was neat and tidy. At least whoever was here last cleaned up after themselves. I gave the place a good look over. This place seems alright.
I held the top bunk's curtain back. As I leaned forward to check out the bed; ack, ack! My face went right into a thick spider web. I jumped back pulling web from my face and shaking spidery threads from my hair. A spider couldn't have survived in here. It would have died long ago. If so, that sucker worked hard before it expired. What if it did survive? There wouldn't be just one. There is never only one. There might be an entire family of spiders. Have I walked into a friggin spider nest? I ran my fingers through my hair brushing out strands of web. That was a big friggin web.
I wonder what kinda freaky experiments those Israeli's were conducting in here. I've heard NASA sent spiders into space experimenting with spider silk and venom.
Great. I get to stay on the Moon only be bitten by a deadly spider. I'll fail to report tomorrow, and some TAC puke will find my dead venom withered body lying on the floor.
Can you tell that I don't do well in isolation? Two minutes in this cramped habitat and I'm freaking out.
I grab the flashlight to use as a weapon, my sword, ready to attack. After considering the possibilities of my assured demise, I muster my courage and yank the bunk's curtain open. I lunge waving the flashlight sword around in a flurried attack. No spiders. No web. I use the same tactic to clear the bottom bunk, then use the flashlights beam to inspect the entire bunk area. You can't be too careful in these spidery situations.
With my safety inspection complete I settled in and sat in a chair to relax. It's dang quiet. What's in the drawers? I spent the next fifteen minutes going through every drawer and cabinet, then sat in the chair to relax. I had a screen, but it was useless. No movies and no porn. No wonder the Israelis didn't stay long.
Harding didn't put me in the brig, but this place felt like a prison cell. Was he punishing me? The brig would have been better, at least I'd have a guard to keep me company.
I moved to the rover, sat in the driver's seat, and looked out the window so I wouldn't feel so cramped. I was the first guy to get booted off the moon. First guy to hitchhike back, then get nearly freeze dried as the first homeless person on the moon.