The Moonwalker

Chapter 8.1

(Note: I changed the original crater from Gauricus to Pitatus because of scale. A discrepancy between the ISS-inspired mmHg reading and spacesuit psi has been fixed.)

The MAF is a marvellous machine and only a select few have the opportunity to pilot it. It may not be a svelte beauty like the Aether, NASA's second generation space shuttle, but no other spacecraft can do what it can. Aula fastens her safety harness and flicks the switch for their main display. The MAF's interior lights dim. Adrenaline starts trickling into her veins.

Because they lack a GPS system, the MAF's computer relies on coordinates and maps of the Moon's physical features. Every pilot learns to fly by instrumentation only, although flying during a lunar night is uniquely challenging. It's why Nakamura tasked her with this. She and Harvey have the most experience, and it's an excuse to get away from the constant interviews and Harvey's chilly politeness. She thought he had forgiven her quietly some time over the last decade, but he didn't. His anger only lay dormant.

"Computer uplink good. Readout good." Ward's voice crackles slightly. "MAF, it is a go."

"Copy, ILUB-2."

"Outside platform is secured," Kelly mutters and pushes back in her seat. "We're five-by."

Aula flicks the cap off the ignition. "Three, two, one...launch."

The MAF surges straight up from the surface. They're far enough away from the Apollo shell to avoid showering it with dust. It's tempting to look, although there's nothing visible beyond the MAF's lights. She keeps her eyes fixed on the featureless black screen with outlines of a contour map along with their altitude, speed, heading, and a horizon line.

A shudder runs through the stick, then nothing. No resistance. The ghostly overlay shows they're rising farther and farther from the lunar surface. Even after years of simulations, a cold thrill races through her limbs.

She glances at the top of the screen. "Clean launch."

"Understood, MAF."

They rocket southwest over Terra Sanitatis. While Aula monitors their course, Kelly calls out stages in their flight. The highland's elevation rises nearly 2 km between each low-lying mare. Their flightpath will be too far north to see the Rupes Altai, an escarpment nearly 427 km long, but they'll pass over the Apollo 16 site. Unlike lunar maria, highlands appear light grey and are comprised of anorthosites. To her, a rock's a rock, but she's seen Bauer study anorthosite in the lab. It's fine-grained, high in calcium, and full of tiny crystals. Although rare, if one has half the usual calcium, it has a strange iridescence called labradorescence. She's seen it only once. It's as startling as the blue feathers of a mallard drake.

A deep ache settles into Aula's body as she sits back. Proof of a hard day's work. The tight cramp in her side is nearly gone. She fishes out the uneaten half of her power bar from the compartment against her left leg. The moment chocolate hits her tongue, hunger hits full force.

"Y'know what I miss? Sausies." Kelly sighs wistfully. "In Galway, there was a shop that made the best sausies I have ever tasted."

"Don't go saying that shit around the guys."

She tsks. "I'm not daft."

The screen flashes white and a deep shudder runs through the MAF. Aula drops her power bar and takes the stick in case it's a computer failure. It's not. Another shudder runs through the flyer. When the light dims, a cloud of regolith rises directly in their path. Everything slips back into darkness. Then a string of small flashes pepper across the original impact site like cluster bombs. She does a quick calculation and makes a course alteration. They start veering away. Flying straight through a massive ejection of lunar dust would be folly. Not only would the regolith sand their machine like a piece of wood, large rocks could be blasted back up by the impact.