The Moonwalker

Chapter 5

A total of three EVAs are required to clear, diagnose, and repair the breach. That entails a full lunar day with a broken toilet and general misery among the crew. When the toilet doesn't work, they revert to bags like their Apollo predecessors. And like their Apollo predecessors, they all dislike crapping in a glorified sandwich bag. It boasts a finger cot so they can manually move things along in the absence of Earth's gravity. They then have to mush it all together with a germicide so gas doesn't form and pop the bag. A luxurious 15 minute bowel movement on Earth can easily become a 30 to 45 minute ordeal off-world. The result is that most of them are eating less, which makes it all the more agonizing when a week's worth of fecal matter reaches critical mass. Everyone currently on the Moon is backed-up and understandably upset about it.

When Aula and Harvey return to the remnants of the pissicle, night has returned and the pressure is on.

"Alright, Constipation Conan. Show us what you've got."

Aula pauses, hammer raised. "Harv, I swear to God."

Her lights illuminate the inside of his helmet and his cheeky grin. He gestures for her to proceed and she gives him the evil eye before bringing the hammer down. The frozen urine is more substantial the closer they get to the base's wall. Sweat starts to pour down her face. She pauses and turns on the fan inside her helmet. Her next swing sends a spidery crack through the midline of the frozen urine. A large chunk falls off to reveal a dark object near the heart of the burst. It looks like an insect in amber.

"Can you tell what it is?" Harvey asks.

Aula squints. "Not yet."

She keeps chipping away until another large section of frozen urine breaks off like a calving glacier. The wall of ILUB-2 is visible, but not directly exposed. Nuance is something difficult to achieve in a spacesuit, but she measures each hammer stroke to avoid breaking too much off at once and further damaging the panel underneath.

"Just a suggestion," Hinton says, "but you could switch sides there to keep it more even and clean."

Irritation spears up through her neck. "Copy."

The repetitive motion is hard on Aula's shoulder, but she tries to keep breaking the urine evenly. Another section breaks off and she can feel a faint thud on her boots. Harvey shifts so his lights crisscross hers and fully illuminate the remnants stuck to the panel. There's less than a foot left, but the thick layer of printed regolith makes it increasingly difficult. It's like trying to hammer a finishing nail that's behind a shelf. She presses herself against the regolith shielding, arm fully extended, and switches to rapid taps.

A large pale crack suddenly splits the urine, then it falls off like a scab.

Harvey automatically dives forward to catch it. "Oh, shit!"

The quick movement jostles Aula and she totters backwards, arms failing. It's no using fighting the momentum. She does a little hop before she can dig her boots into the ground.

"You're always doing this when I have a weapon in hand."

"Sorry, Al," Harvey says somewhat contritely. "How's the module inside? We okay?"

The radio crackles. It sounds suspiciously like laughter.

"We're okay." Bauer's voice is a little uneven. "No change in atmo."

Aula sighs and lopes back to her original position. Harvey holds the chunk of frozen urine in his hands so it's close to the camera mounted on his helmet.

"How's that for a visual, Houston?"

"Beautiful."

"It's fecal matter," Aula says.