Eight

I did not drive off the cliff that day. I don't know why. Maybe you can explain it, you probably know me better than I know myself. Maybe it was the tone or intensity of his voice. Maybe it was knowing I was needed, even if he was furious with me. Why does anyone continue to exist when all hope lost? If I had to guess it's because I owed him. He had treated me fairly. More than fair. He gave me a second chance. That's more than I can say for most people.

I marched quickly into HQ with a hop in my step, but not on purpose. You know, the moon's lower gravity makes it easy to launch yourself a foot or two into the air. As I hop-skipped my way to the commanders office I must have leaned forward and lost my balance. I fell flat on my face. I only weigh twenty-five pounds here, so it was easy to push myself up, but it was embarrassing as all heck. I stood and looked around, luckily no one saw that. I still don't have my moon legs. It takes a couple days to get used to walking without bounding out of control.

I straightened my one-piece TAC uniform pulling it down at the waist smoothing the wrinkles. As I walked, I rubbed the top of my shoes on the back of my pant legs to revive the shine. I wanted to look strac. The TAC guys made themselves scarce as I hop walked to Harding's office. I'm sure they hid within ear shot so they could hear the dressing down I would soon endure.

I stood at attention outside Harding's office. The door opened and four people streamed out. I leaned forward to peer inside. Harding was in there but, I waited. He kept me waiting. He's the important person, not me. I would wait without moving until he was ready to tear me apart.

Had he changed his mind? Would he send me back to face the consequences? I'm nothing. He can do whatever he wants. I couldn't blame him for changing his mind. I wasn't where he told me to be when he needed me. Did I choose life only to be sent to prison? If that's the case I made the wrong choice. Lying dead, crumpled, and frozen at the bottom of Malapert Crater was preferred over rotting in a cold dank jail cell on Earth.

His voice had startled me out of my trance, my meditation of death. My mind was clear, my destination was set. I was prepared to soar through the blackness. I don't know why, but in that instant, hearing the disappointment in his voice, I slammed my foot on the brake and twisted the yoke causing the rover to skid sideways. The momentum of the turn sent the rover up on two wheels. Panic shot through my nerves; all I could do was hold on. I was sure the rover would roll over. If it did, my glorious flight into the vacuum of space would have become a destructive, bone crushing tumble, the rover rolling down the rocky cliffside. That would have been much less fun than soaring through the vacuum of space.

Instead, the rover slammed down on four wheels with a jolt and slid to a stop inches from the cliff edge. I was a live, shit.

"Frank Callahan get your ass in here," He shouted.

I carefully quick stepped to his desk and looked straight ahead at a 3-D rendering of Moon Base Alpha mounted on the wall behind his desk. I couldn't look him in the eye. I was going to lie.

"You were ordered to stay at HQ until you were given an assignment."

"Yes, sir." I answered crisply, examining the image of the base. Eight quints of five domes are linked together in a long curving circuit that follows the contour of the mountain that rises behind the base. Each dome has a partially buried tunnel that connects to a smaller dome at the center of the quint like spokes of a wheel connected to a hub. You'd never know those tunnels exist unless you saw them from above or you stared at the base photo. The small center dome houses the environmental systems including life support, water supply, waste disposal for the quint. One quint near the end of the long chain of quints looked out of place. A break in the simple symmetry of interlocked quints looking like some chemical chain of linked atoms. This quint had a sixth dome larger than the others, sticking out like a new molecule. I helped build this dome. It's the new waste management dome built to handle the additional sewage and water recycling needs of the hotel. It looks out of place, an afterthought of bad planning.

"Then explain to me why you were nowhere to be found?"

"I apologize sir. You had a morning full of meetings. It was looking like your afternoon would be the same. The rovers right front wheel has been making a strange squeaking sound. I thought the disc seal could be leaking. I took the opportunity to get the rover serviced. I'd hate to have the rover break down when you needed it."

"Did you tell my adjutant you were leaving?"

"No sir. None of the guys were around and you were planning the gala with the hotel execs. You said you needed someone who can take initiative and think on his feet. I was on my way back when you called. The last thing I want is for you to lose faith in me. I'd hate to disappoint you since you saved my ass and all."

Harding tapped his screen. I couldn't see what he was viewing. After a few moments, he swiped the screen to look at something else.

"I don't see a maintenance report for the service."

"Ah, Gus. I'm sure he'll get to it. He hates paperwork. He was tearing down an excavator when I showed up. He wasn't going to help me until I told him it was your rover."

"Go see Norm at the Maker quint. He's got a load of goods that need to be delivered to the hotel for the gala tonight. They're waiting for you, so move out."

"Yes, Commander Harding, sir. I'm on it," I said as I turned to leave.

"Next time tell someone where you're going, send a message, leave a note. That's why you have a watch."

"You got it sir," I said then high tailed it for the airlock.

I'd need to talk to Gus soon and ask him to add the rover repair to his maintenance report. He's a good friend, but this was a big ask. I'll owe him a huge favor.

I looked at my watch as waited for my green light to leave the dock. If Harding wanted, he could have tracked me. He'd know exactly where I'd been. Did he know I'd gone to see Wanda? Had he seen me heading for the cliff and called at the last minute? Was he Wanda's new man? If he were wouldn't it be easier to have me gone? Maybe he didn't want to upset Wanda, as if she'd care if I was gone or not.

As ordered, I drove directly to the Maker quint. This quint is full of quirky science freaks who make everyday products out of the weirdest stuff. They make everything from glassware and plates to desks, chairs, and insulated walls. The idea is to make what we need here on Luna instead of flying it up.

If you need a wine glass, they'll make it out of a blob of goop made from recycled waste plastic they call photopolymer. They shoot the image of a wine glass into the goop and in less than a minute you have a beautiful wine glass. It's faster 3D printing and makes more complex shapes.

If you want a chair, they can make it out of mycelium, that means fungi, like mushrooms, no kidding. They grow the mycelium into shapes. They can make foam cushions, beds, tables, lamp shades, you name it, they can grow it. When its fully grown the fungi dies and hardens. They make something like particle board using heat and pressure to compress the little fungi's. They use the boards for walls and flooring in the domes. That door to Harding's office is probably a big flat mushroom. If it is, they should have compressed it more, sounds go right through it.

I stepped into a dome lit with a yellow glow, the bio-products dome. Lamps on the walls were made from fungi. The place smelled funky, a mix of dirt and rotting wood. The ceiling was low, unlike most domes. They grew mushrooms in the dark on the upper levels.

Norm walked through the dull light to greet me. He's a thin guy in his late fifties with long white hippie hair and a thick white bikers beard. I remember the first time I met him. The pupils of his eyes were tiny. He looked high but maybe it was his t-shirt printed with a cluster of mushrooms and the words, Psychedelic Research Volunteer that made me think he was stoned.

"Hey Norm. Are you high right now?" I'd asked.

"Nah, haven't been for eons. Guess after years of being wasted, the look just stuck," he said with a big laugh.

Today he greeted me with the same pin prick pupils and a hearty handshake. "I heard you were back. Good to see ya Frankie."

It's nice to hear somebody's happy I'm back. I looked at the boxes and other items stacked near the airlock. "What you all got here? Am I taking all this up to the hotel?" I asked.

"Yes siree. The wine glasses are for the hotel. The other items will be on display in the lobby. We're demonstrating the bio-based products we've created for self-sufficient living on Luna. Let me get Tristan and Greta to help us load the rover." He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. Moments later the pair emerged walking sleepily toward us.

Greta is short and well, she's a hefty girl, roundish is a nice way to put it. Must be eating too much of that algae pudding they make in the bio-kitchen. Tattoo's cover her arms and decorate her shaved head. The artwork is quite interesting, beautiful, you might say but I'd hate to get caught staring at her skull.

Tristan is tall, skinny, and his flesh is so white he could pass for an albino, 'cept he doesn't have the freaky red eyes. His arms are so spindly I can make out the bones and blue blood vessels. When I look at Tristan, I imagine he's what most moon dwellers will look like after spending years in low gravity. He has a new haircut since I saw him last. Shaved down to the skin on one side exactly down the middle of his head. Strawberry blonde hair longer than Wanda's flows down the other half of his skull. A gold feather shaped earring dangles on the bald side. There must be something in the air of this dome. I told you they were a quirky bunch.

"Hey Frankie," says Tristan. Greta waved hello.

"Hey guys, it's good to be back." I reply.

"Let's get the rover loaded. Put the glasses in first," Norm ordered. Ten boxes containing over three hundred wine glasses were stacked on the passenger seats. Next, a stack of five beautifully decorated carpets made from seaweed or as they explained, brown algae were rolled up and hauled into the rover. Lastly a set of four chairs with colorful fabric cushions and a table went into the rover. The legs of the chairs and base of the table resembled varnished dark cherry wood. Norm and I carried the ivory colored tabletop. It was thick but not heavy. If I didn't know, I'd have no idea all this stuff was made from recycled plastic, mushrooms, and algae. I studied the over-stuffed rover. A narrow path led to the driver and front passenger seat

"I'll ride up with you. We need to set up the displays," norm said.

"What about these guys?" I asked pointing to Tristan and Greta.

"We'll meet you up there," Tristan said.

"You sure? You can squeeze in. It's a long walk to the escalators," I said.

"We know a short cut," Greta said confidently.

Norm assured me they would be fine, so he and I drove west past HQ on a wide road that winds its way up the western slope of Mons Malapert. I paused at a junction observing all the work that had been done in the past months. The wide new road trailed across the mid-levels to the hotel while the older road continued curving its way up the long ridge all the way to the peak of Malapert, an elevation of five thousand meters or sixteen thousand four hundred feet above the surrounding lunar terrain.

At the top there is are communications and observation domes with radio towers and microwave transceivers to communicate with Earth. At that elevation and because of our location near the South Pole, the base can be in constant contact with Earth and is one of the few locations on the moon that receives constant sunlight. I'd never been up there, but I can imagine trips up the mountain to the peak of eternal sunlight will soon be a thrilling tourist excursion.

The base is located at the foot of the mountain at an elevation of one thousand feet. The hotel with its enormous central dome flanked by east and west wings of interconnected domes was built on the mid-level, a flat shoulder part way up the steep slope at fourteen hundred feet.

A long tube built from dark gray blocks connects a newly built arrivals dome at base level to the grand lobby of the hotel's central dome four hundred feet up the hill. Inside the tunnel escalators convey hotel guests to the hotel.

I turned onto the new road. 'What brings you back Frank?" Norm asked. "Most people can't wait to get back to blue skies and butterflies," he added.

"I came back hoping there was something for me here. Turns out, I was mistaken, now I'm stuck," I said.

Narom stroked his beard looking thoughtful. "Sounds like woman problems. Unrequited love? I know you and Wanda was friendly."

"We're friends. I'll leave it that."

"She's an amazing woman, wait till you see what she and her team have created up here at the hotel."

As we approached the west wing of domes, I took a fork in the road that goes around the back of the complex to the service entrance. The mountain slope rising above the hotel complex is covered with long flexible solar arrays. This slope gets sunlight eighty percent of the time, perfect for generating solar power. Conventional solar panels are nearly impossible to install on the steep mountainside so flexible rolls were secured high above and unfurled down the slope.

When Norm and I stepped into the service warehouse I was shocked to see Tristan and Greta waiting for us with a large dolly to wheel the load into the hotel.

"How the heck did you two get here so fast?" I asked.

"The big tunnel," Greta succinctly.

"What big tunnel?" I asked.

"There's an underground tunnel running along the back of the base from the new waste management dome. It intersects with the tube running up the hill. It funnels all the brackish water and solid waste from the hotel down to waste management," Tristan clarified.

"But it doesn't look like you've been slogging through a sewer," I said.

"That tunnel is wide enough to drive your rover through it. The water, waste and what not flow through big pipes inside the tunnel. There's all kinds of tubes and conduit running through there. Built it that way so's the Maintenance techs have access," Norm explained.

"Then we took the elevator to the service level," Greta said with a nod of her head.

"Service level?" I looked at her quizzically like, why don't you explain what the heck the service level is? I can be slow sometimes but give me a hint and I'll follow.

"That's the level below the hotel domes and ballrooms. It's for housekeeping, room service, and laundry. It's faster to walk through the service level than going through the hotel," Tristan explained.

"Thanks Tristan. I'm beginning to like you, even if I don't understand your hairstyle choices." Greta looked up at me as if expecting a compliment. I gave her a cockeyed look while trying to make out the tattoo design on her forehead. It looked like an Indonesian Garuda spreading it's wings over her eyebrows.

I'd worked on construction of the large central dome, but I was building other domes when the foundation and lower levels of the hotel were built. This underground tube was news to me, and it wasn't on the image in Harding's office.

"Let's get unloaded. We need to get our displays set up before this shindig gets started," Norm said with urgency.