The Moonwalker

Chapter 16.3

Beeping. Then a buzzsaw in her ear. Full volume.

"ILUB-1, this...Hous.... Comm ch...."

"Houston, this is Martin through SEV-2. I'm by Short A. You're weak as hell."

"Getting the silent treatment down here, Martin."

"ILUB-1, SEV-2."

A coughing spasm wrenches Aula into a foetal position. Her right arm clenches into an agonizing snarl. She gasps, cheek flush against the mic, and opens her eyes. The sun hangs overhead. Pure punishing white. Sam lays where he fell. Greyer than moth scales. It feels like she's inside an oven.

Somewhere from across the Moon, "Al?"

It's the same voice that called her at 3:30 in the morning to crow about his new fiancé. Called her breakup with Sophia cowardly bullshit. Harvey's always calling and she's always answering. He'll circumnavigate the Moon before he leaves a living soul behind. It's the way he's wired.

"Skies clear. ILUB-1 is dark. No response. I'll pack up early and return home, over."

Aula musters enough breath to speak. "Get going, Harv."

"Al? You're breaking up."

Another few breaths. "Get to EVAC C."

"Evac...confirmed. Reed, is....ly deact....?"

More buzzsawing in her ears. Earth is sliding out of reach.

"Only one ping up here," Harvey says. "Where's everyone?"

"Gone." Another coughing fit. Pain knifes Aula's chest. "Get to EVAC C."

"Where are you?"

"On my way."

"Okay, I'll meet you there."

Aula nods as if he can see. Then she pats Sam's distended arm and flops back into the dust.

Time passes jaggedly. Measurable only in discomforts. The sun pummels her with its full force, none of its power diluted by an atmosphere. She can almost see its radiation hit the regolith and ripple up and outward like the bottom of a waterfall.

There are no microorganisms up here besides what people carry with them. Nothing to break their bodies down into nutrients for other forms of life. No other life to benefit from it. Sam and herself will be oases for a time. But their bodies will stay here until the same forces that create regolith wear them down. It will take a long time. They'll be visible for all of Earth to see.

She tries to imagine what that will be like. To see the intrepid Commander Shaw disintegrating under sunlight alongside her anonymous EMU. A legendary part of the space program would be nothing more than an expensive coffin shimmering on the lunar surface. Circling every month. What would Sophia and Anaaya make of that? Would they even look? Would it be more merciful to keep her face turned away and remain a white vaguely human-shaped blob or would that sterility just be another form of cruelty? Her back to turned to Earth, her body out of reach, her face hidden behind a gold shield. All decay left to the imagination.

She looks at Sam for an answer, but his dusty eyes are blank. Surprised, maybe. It's hard to tell.

Aula clenches her teeth. Daggers in her lungs. Rust in her mouth. The inside of her suit is swampy with sweat. It's like she's locked in a car on a hot day.

Her eyes sting. The muscles in her face draw taut. It's not the pain. It's the waste. Sophia and Anaaya. Sam. Two chances. Two kinds of family. Two good lives to lead. But each time, she ejects at the first sign of trouble, and that sleek shiny life crashes into the ground.