Moonbase Crisis: Star Challengers Book 1 (8 page)
Read Moonbase Crisis: Star Challengers Book 1 Online
Authors: Rebecca Moesta,Kevin J. Anderson,June Scobee Rodgers
Twelve
An exhausted Chief Ansari stood in the MCC, regarding Dyl with mixed feelings. “If we followed the schedule, my shift would have been over hours ago. But Major Fox has not yet returned from his meteorite retrieval mission with your friends, Dr. Wu is busy out in the astro bubble, and Dr. Romero is working with Cadet Park.” She let out a sigh. “If I go to the hab bubble for a rest, Cadet Wren, can I count on you to monitor communications?”
“No problem,” Dyl said. “I can handle the comm system if any messages come in.”
Ansari remained skeptical. “Only do what is absolutely necessary. In most cases an entire shift will go by without anything happening. The CMC on Earth only communicates with us once daily, and that’s usually just a formality. Major Fox will give you updates on his progress outside.” She paused for emphasis. “If you have any questions—
any
questions—or if you notice any unusual readings, come and get me immediately.”
She seemed to be having second thoughts, but Dyl reassured her. “Get some rest, Chief—you’re just a module away.”
After transmitting a message to Fox out in the rover, Ansari gave Dyl a last glance over her shoulder, and went to her quarters. Even in the low lunar gravity, the chief’s footsteps sounded tired.
That was how Donovan Dylan Wren found himself all alone in the Moonbase Control Center at the comm station. Commander Zota’s mysterious “classified message” to the moonbase must have impressed Chief Ansari enough for her to give Dyl a chance, and he didn’t want to let anyone down.
No problem,
he reminded himself. The responsibility felt heavy, but Dyl knew he could always call for help if he needed it.
From movies and TV, Dyl was familiar with the bustling Mission Control of the old Apollo program, a gigantic room crowded with people, everyone working old-fashioned computers with stiff keyboards or using slide rules and chalkboards. Even at the Challenger Center, Mission Control had been a busy place with stations for communications, navigation, medical, data, and so on.
In his imagination, Dyl had always pictured the control center of a futuristic moonbase as crowded, with technicians and scientists at every console. Outside, in the vicinity of the base, there would be scientific experiments, geological samples being collected, exploration in progress. Teams would work on construction projects, excavations in the craters, or low-gravity factories creating rare and valuable materials to ship back to Earth.…
But Dyl was alone on duty, and the MCC was rather quiet. With the regular moonbase crew at one-third of capacity, he was glad that he and his friends could help complete some of the backlog of work. If the base produced less than expected, no matter how unrealistic the expectations, interest on Earth would shrink even further.
His comm station was quiet. Hourly computer-generated updates were transmitted to Collaborative Mission Control on Earth, but more often than not there was nothing to tell. The CMC people were professionals and did their work without incident. The moonbase had been operating without problems for many years.
At first, when Ansari gave Dyl this responsibility, he had felt very important, but at the end of his first hour alone, he was bored with sitting around and looking at an unchanging screen. When the time came, he toggled open a communication channel to the outside team. “Rover vehicle status, Major Fox? Over.”
“Status nominal,” came the British officers reply. “We have secured the meteorite and will be returning to base shortly.” Dyl dutifully entered the report. He checked in with the astro bubble and received a nominal status from the gruff and distracted Dr. Wu. Dyl went through his entire checklist and transmitted the report back to Earth.
“Everything’s just fine,” he said to the screen. “Not much going on here.”
He was surprised to see a message line appear, targeted at him specifically.
Incoming Video: Private Message for Cadet Donovan Dylan Wren.
Dyl stared at it for a few moments. Their time here on the moonbase had seemed so strange, and he had wondered what they were meant to do. Now, an incoming video? He accepted the transmission, watched the screen fade to be replaced by an image of a handsome dusky-skinned man with a familiar scar on his cheek. The cadets had originally thought his uniform was just like the others from the Challenger Center, but now it seemed different.
“Greetings.”
“Commander Zota!” Dyl exclaimed, then lowered his voice, not wanting to bring Chief Ansari running in to see what was the matter. First, he wanted some explanations.
The man’s expression was serious. “Cadet Wren, I trust that you and your companions have settled in at Moonbase Magellan?”
“Yes! But … what’s going on? Did you know this wasn’t a simulation?”
“I was aware, Cadet Wren. I was quite honest about it, if you’ll recall. I told you all in your briefing that you would go to the Moon, and you did. I said you would wear real spacesuits, and you did. There are no tricks or special effects up there—just science. You truly are in humanity’s first manned moonbase.”
“Okay, Commander, but that brings up a lot more questions. How did we get here? Even the moonbase staff can’t figure it out. And what are we supposed to be doing? Did you
plan
this?”
Zota nodded, giving him a faint smile. “Indeed, you have a lot of questions. Yes, I arranged the experience for you and your friends. It was necessary. And now that you have all grasped the reality of your situation, you deserve some explanations. That’s why I risked this transmission.”
Dyl felt a rush of relief. He had been anxious about the new situation, and after more than two days—when they had expected to be at the Challenger Center for only seven hours—he was starting to worry that they would never get home. “Why didn’t you come with us?”
“Alas, it is not possible. The reasons are complicated, but I must remain in your time of history.”
“My time, not
our
time? Don’t we all have the same time?”
“Obviously not. I am from the future … farther in the future, in fact, than you are now.” He paused a moment to let that sink in. “I traveled back in time with an urgent mission—and you cadets are a part of it. You are just the seeds, and I hope that many more from your generation will follow your example. You could be humanity’s only hope.”
Dyl sat back, his stomach leaden. “Hope for what? And what makes the four of us so special?”
“In the future I come from—and the problem began in the time period that you are in right now—humanity turned its back on progress, grew lazy and no longer faced challenges. Preferring an easy life to the challenge of innovation, we stopped bothering to discover new things. People became short-sighted, focusing only on comfort and entertainment.”
Dyl grimaced. “I know kids at my school who blow off their work, do just enough to get passing grades, and spend most of their time goofing around. They don’t think about the future at all.”
Commander Zota’s expression turned grim. “Yes. Sadly, a great many of those people grew up to be unmotivated adults, and
their
children became a pampered generation. Very few of them pursued science or learned to become good leaders and the future suffers for it.” He sounded deeply pained.
In the empty MCC of the nearly empty moonbase, Dyl could see the results of what the commander was describing.
Zota’s voice grew more passionate. “There is a very real danger, Cadet Wren. When people ignored verified science and listened only to charlatans who said what they wanted to hear, the human race began to slide backward. And so, in the future—in
my
time—Earth faced a terrible crisis, and there were too few innovators to solve the problems.”
On the screen, he straightened and looked directly at him. Dyl wished his friends could be there listening as well. He tried to focus on Zota’s every word, jotting notes on a card so that he could repeat it. JJ, King, and Song-Ye would be full of questions.
“That is why I went back in time—to ensure that it doesn’t happen. I will do my best—I
must!
—to change the course of history, to help train and prepare a generation for the great challenges our future holds. And I chose you, Donovan Dylan Wren, along with your sister JJ, Elton Elijah King, and Song-Ye Park as my first group of … Star Challengers.”
“Star Challengers,” Dyl mused. “I like that. But why
us?”
The whole idea of them being thrown forward in time to experience the future seemed ridiculous. But here they were, and he could hear the truth in what Zota was saying. Dyl knew the attitudes in his own school. Friends rushed through their homework, looked up answers on the Internet and filled in blanks without understanding the subject. They spent hours each day playing online games and hanging out on social websites. They had easy, unchallenging lives, and still expected to get a good job. Dyl realized he used to be like that—before the accident. But after being tutored so well, Dyl had changed. He wanted to learn, wanted his mother to be proud of him. But he had never considered that what he did might affect the future.
Zota continued, “By showing you this moonbase—a real piece of the future—I wanted to let you see what ambitious humans
can
do, and also let you know how much
more
we’re capable of. You Star Challengers have potential you’re not even aware of yet.”
“It’s not that other kids are lazy,” Dyl explained. “They just don’t see the point in doing their best, when all they have to do is
pass.
They get what they want, whether or not they work hard. And honestly? A lot of stuff we learn in school doesn’t seem … important.”
“I was afraid of that,” Commander Zota said. “Coming from where and when I do, it’s hard for me to grasp why humanity became complacent. By showing you cadets the future, I hoped to inspire in you a passion for saving it. You can make changes for the better and spread your enthusiasm to your friends. Develop your skills in science, space exploration, and forward thinking, so that when you grow older, you can solve humanity’s problems. You come from a time when the future seemed bright, before everything….” His voice broke, and he wouldn’t say any more. The commander touched the scar on his cheek.
Dyl wondered what possible crisis the time traveler could be talking about. “What happened? What should we do to help?”
Zota’s voice became distant and professional. “That is all you need to know for your mission briefing, Cadet Wren. Please pass along the information to your fellow Star Challengers. The future is in your hands. It depends on the choices you make.” Zota seemed in a rush to end the transmission.
“Wait!” Dyl cried. He drew in a quick breath. “What are we supposed to accomplish? How do we get home? When will we be finished here?”
But the screen went blank, and a line of text appeared:
Transmission ended from the source.
Well, at least Dyl knew more than he had known before, and he didn’t want to let Zota down.
He couldn’t wait to tell the others … the
Star Challengers.
Just then he heard a flurry of footsteps, shouts, and a squeak. From the adjacent module, Song-Ye scrambled into the MCC, bent over with wildly flailing hands. Ahead of her, a tan furry blur scurried along, zigzagging to avoid capture.
“Dyl! Catch Newton!”
Dyl leaped up from the chair at the communications console, forgetting about the low gravity, and his energy sent him nearly to the ceiling.
The escaped hamster, though, knew full well how to run in the low gravity. It jumped up to the top of a console, bounced off, then sprang even higher. Song-Ye grabbed for it but missed. The hamster leaped in a different direction, and Song-Ye couldn’t turn fast enough; she struck the curved wall of the module and rebounded, crashing into Dyl, who tried to steady her. The breath was knocked out of both of them.
Then Song-Ye did something even more surprising. She giggled. Dyl grinned.
Bleary eyed and looking alarmed, Chief Ansari hurried into the MCC. “What’s happening? Is there an emergency?”
Newton the hamster squeaked and scurried along the wall.
Dr. Romero came running in. “An escaped experimental animal, Chief. We’re in the process of catching it.”
“Sorry we disturbed you, Chief,” Dyl said, untangling himself from Song-Ye. “No problem—everything’s under control.”
Ansari raised her eyebrows. “Oh? It doesn’t look that way.”
The hamster stopped on a tabletop, small chest heaving for breath. Dyl snagged the furry fugitive and handed it to Song-Ye, who cradled Newton in her hands as she stroked its fur. “He just doesn’t like to stay in a cage, that’s all.” Dyl let out a sigh of relief. “Situation nominal Chief.” That was when the meteor-shower alarms went off.
***
Thirteen
Looking startled, Song-Ye clung to her recaptured hamster. “What are those alarms for?”
“Meteors coming in, lots of them,” said Chief Ansari. “We’re detecting a number of hazardous objects. No telling where they might land.”
“Like a hailstorm in space,” Dyl said.
“The rocks are more spread out than that, but one direct impact could cause a great deal of damage.”
Dr. Romero began to rummage around at the back of the Control Center module. “Time to get to the bunker, Chief.”
“Standard emergency procedure. We’ll have to ride it out,” Ansari told the cadets. “Join us, quickly.”
A wave of panic hit Dyl at the thought of his sister out in the open during a meteor shower. “But we can’t leave the team outside unprotected!”
“Alarm sensors will have sounded on their suits, too. The major is an expert at finding protective cover. He’ll take care of your friends. No time to argue. Follow Dr. Romero.”
The doctor pulled on a recessed handle in the deck plates, revealing a hatch in the floor. “Come on! We’ll be cozy, but each of these is designed to hold four people.”
“And one hamster,” Song-Ye added.
Beneath the hatch, a thick-walled bunker had been dug into the ground, then lined with metal, sealed and fused. Dr. Romero slid down first, then helped Dyl, whose legs were a bit wobbly at the moment. The bunker was smaller than the inside of a minivan, so he crouched into a corner to make room for the others to enter. Song-Ye peered over the lip. “Good thing I’m not claustrophobic.”
“This is what we call our storm shelter,” explained Ansari. “The metal plating and the regolith itself give us plenty of shielding from impacts and from solar radiation. Each module has its own bolt hole, since we have to be able to get to them quickly. In a wall compartment there are emergency suits, but we hope we never have reason to use them.”
Alarms continued to blare. Song-Ye climbed down into the bunker with Dyl and Dr. Romero, while Ansari sent a last signal. “Major Fox’s team and Dr. Wu, take whatever cover you can. I have everyone else safe in the main shelter.”
“Are you sure Dr. Wu will be all right in the astro bubble?” Dyl called up.
Ansari climbed down and grasped the handle so she could close the hatch over their heads. “He’ll be in the storm shelter under the observatory. He should be fine.”
Song-Ye held onto the squirming hamster, stroking its fur.
“Now, we just wait it out,” Ansari said.
“We could tell ghost stories to pass the time,” Dyl offered. No one took him up on his suggestion, which was disappointing, since he could have used a distraction from the danger raining down above them.
Twinges in his damaged legs reminded Dyl of how much could happen in just an instant….
Five years ago JJ and Dyl had been carefree kids. They lived with their parents, a firefighter and a manager of a gift store, in a beautiful townhouse. After their father died fighting a fire, the next three years were rocky, but the Wrens got by, relying on each other for strength.
One sunny afternoon, Dyl went bike riding in the neighborhood. He made a ramp out of old plywood and, by riding fast enough, jumped the bike in a high arc to land on the street, before circling around to do it again. He loved the thrill.
Their street got very little traffic, and he didn’t think much about it. Unfortunately, a driver texting on her cell phone was paying even less attention than Dyl. She didn’t notice his bicycle landing on the street as she made a wide turn without signaling. From the corner of his eye, Dyl saw the car and tried to swerve. The car’s front bumper slammed into his bike and sent him flying. Pain exploded around him. The next thing he knew, he was in a hospital.
Dyl was out of school for the better part of a year. At first, Mrs. Wren tried to homeschool him, but the conflicting demands on her time made her lose her job. Moving them to a small apartment, she started waiting tables at a cafe during the day and working at a local hotel in the evenings. Medical bills devastated the Wren family. Times were stressful.
Hearing about the situation, a retired couple from the apartment building offered to tutor Dyl at no cost until he could go back to school, and Mrs. Wren gratefully accepted. JJ and Dyl worked hard to keep the apartment clean, do their schoolwork, and not be a problem for their mother. Even so, Dyl always felt guilty about his family’s financial problems. The entire Wren family had suffered the consequences of his accident.
But on the Moon, he felt almost normal again.
Almost.
Being here was another life-changing experience for Dylan, and less painful than the last one.
Dyl would have to thank Commander Zota—
if they
all survived the meteor shower.
At the far edge of the crater, just as JJ and King loaded the meteorite into the rovers sample container, their suit alarms sounded.
“It appears this little rock was indeed just a precursor, Cadets,” Major Fox said. “I love to watch shooting stars during meteor showers on Earth. Now, I believe our view is a bit too close.”
“Front row seat,” JJ agreed.
King hummed “Danger Zone.” JJ recognized it from the old movie
Top Gun
—one of her favorites, because it showed lots of fast flying.
Meteor fragments hurtled toward the Moon. Pieces of the parent body crashed into the lunar surface like bugs hitting the windshield of a fast-moving car. JJ caught her breath and pointed at a flash of light from an impact that threw a spray of regolith up into the air. Another one followed it, several kilometers away.
“Looks like we’re in a danger zone here, sir!” King said.
“Not quite. The impacts are widely scattered,” Fox said, “and the chances of one of us being struck is almost nil. Even so, we should take shelter over there.” He gestured for them to hurry away from the rover and back toward the steep walls of the crater, where a jumble of rocks provided the best protection.
King bounded forward in a single jump that took him nearly ten meters.
When they reached the large rockfall, JJ asked, “What about the moonbase, Major? Will everyone be okay?”
“Truth be told, the base has a significant vulnerability A strike could cause explosive decompression and inflict irreparable damage.” Their suit radios crackled. Ansari’s voice ordered them to take cover and assured them that the moonbase crew was safe. “You see?” Fox said. “They’ll be all right—we can always assist them if need be.”
From their makeshift shelter, JJ scanned the expansive crater floor and smiled when a silent puff of impact appeared every few seconds. Hanging overhead, silent and beautiful, the cloudy blue Earth seemed to watch, like a big gentle eye. “The greatest bombardment came early in the Moon’s history,” Fox explained. “Four billion years ago, when Earth’s neighborhood had a great deal of debris left over from coalescing planets, impacts occurred regularly. Fortunately for us, most of that debris has been swept up.”
“Except for a few leftovers,” King said, indicating the pelting rocks that came down in the area surrounding the moonbase.
They waited, checking their suit air supply, calculating just how long they could remain here waiting out the storm. Major Fox used the emergency frequency to signal the moonbase that they were safe.
“At least this will give us something interesting to put in our next report to Earth,” Fox said.
“Just another day at the moonbase,” JJ remarked. Now that they were sure everyone was safe, King and JJ settled back and made a game of counting the impacts they spotted.
When Major Fox told them they were actually collecting important data, it only added to their fun. King hummed “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” and JJ hummed along.
***
