The Moonwalker

Chapter 7.1

The Sea of Tranquility is pitch black. It's nothing like the old movies with Armstrong and Aldrin loping down a sun-lit slope of regolith. They're inside a small pool of light. If Apollo 11 had gone the slightest bit differently, the remains of the world's first moonwalkers would be here, too.

Kelly steps out of the Apollo's reflective white shell. "It was a grand undertaking, wasn't it? Considering the technology they had."

"It was," Ward replies mildly over comm. "A pity so many people in their own country don't believe they did it."

Aula rolls her eyes and straightens up to survey her work. The panel is bolted and the Electrodynamic Dust Shield is back on. She turns so the lights on her spacesuit shine across the entire solar panel. They gleam dark bronze. No particulates of dust or punctures mar their surface.

Their panels are larger than would be possible back on Earth and provide ILUB-2 the majority of its power during daylight. At night, microbial fuel cells fill in the gap using human waste. It's a delicate balance between each system. Out here at the Apollo 11 landing site, far from the nearest engineer, that balance is even more crucial. With sunlight coming at week's end, it's essential that the solar panels be ready. They can't be insulated by regolith and mornings mean moon fountains. A flurry of statically charged dust like a sandstorm that accompanies every dawn and dusk. Anything exposed without a shield will be choked by it. Besides being extremely abrasive, lunar dust also darkens surfaces, which causes them to absorb more heat. It's critical when days on the Moon can push 125 ℃. The Apollo era equipment has already taken a lot of punishment over the years.

"Shite bag."

Aula turns around.

Kelly's fallen onto her face. She struggles to stand up in front of the soft module shell, which spans over the landing site like a large tent. Ever since it became a UNESCO site, public outcry over its degradation was constant. One of the justifications for the International Lunar Base Program had been to preserve historical landing sites for future generations. Every few weeks, two of them have to travel half-way across the damn Moon to perform maintenance. The shell itself has a passive lotus coat that repels dust and an active EDS powered by a solar panel. It has more protection than the habitat at EVAC C.

She offers a hand. Kelly accepts it and uses her as a stabilizing point to stand back up. "Thanks."

"Turn around." Ward's voice rises an octave. "Turn to the shell, both of you."

Their Z-1 spacesuits have an EDS woven into the fabric, which prevents any dust from sticking to them, but the same cannot be said for Kelly's camera. It somersaults across the ground and makes a perfect dusty arc through the shell's unzipped flap. Aula turns just as it disappears inside and feels anger spike through her chest. If the camera lands on one of the footprints or hits the equipment inside, the damage will be irreparable. It attaches to to their suit because of this exact scenario.

She looks at Kelly, who's ashen. The cameras on their helmets record everything, but Kelly's the anthropologist here. She understands more than their careers are at stake.

Aula switches to Russian and says, "Moscow, we have a foreign object inside the Apollo shell."

There's eight full seconds of silence. She can just picture everyone at TsUP staring at the screen. Communication oscillates regularly between Houston and Moscow. Both America and Russia installed relay satellites around the Moon. ILUB-2 can use both systems and it satisfies the ILBP's two biggest contributing nations. They have the Russians today. She's certain Ivan Volkov will appreciate the irony of trying to preserve the landing site of their old rivals. His voice is rumbling and stern, and reminds her of her old instructor pilot.