《Angry Moon》


 Chapter One

    ¡°It was a night just like this.¡±


    Eddie turned in surprise to look at the man standing beside him. A stranger, a man he¡¯d never seen before. ¡°Excuse me?¡± he said.


    ¡°It was a night just like this,¡± the man repeated. ¡°A cold night, November the seventeenth nineteen eighty two, when the Queen of Esbjerg, pride of the Jutland Shipping Company, set sail for the last time.¡±


    Eddie wasn¡¯t sure how to react. Being spoken to, out of the blue, by a complete stranger wasn''t something he was used to. The other man was older than him, in his fifties by the look of him, with a short, neatly trimmed beard and a bald head. He was wearing a smart suit under his warm coat. He was looking at him, as if expecting him to reply, and Eddie searched his mind for something to say. Something non committal that would, hopefully, enable him to avoid being drawn into a conversation. Not that he was anti social or anything. He liked a good chat as much as anyone, but he''d come up here to be alone with his thoughts and he just wanted to think for a while. ¡°You don''t say,¡± he said therefore.


    The man nodded soberly. ¡°The air was biting cold,¡± he said, his breath making a cloud that hung between the two men. ¡°So cold it stung your face and hands, but as still as a tomb. The sea was as smooth as a mirror. You could see the stars and the moon reflected in it, just like today.¡± He spoke slowly and deliberately, to give each syllable weight and meaning. He turned his gaze across the water stretched out below them, its surface disturbed only by the wake of the ferry as it pulled away from the coast of Denmark. ¡°As if the very elements knew that the ship would never return and were holding their breaths as a sign of respect. It was the same time of day as well. Eight in the evening when the ship slipped out to sea for the last time with four hundred living souls on board. The ship would be sailing through the night, just as we are now. The similarities between then and now... Well, I''m not saying it means anything, of course. That would just be silly superstition.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Eddie, finding himself hooked despite himself.


    ¡°It should have been an eighteen hour crossing, but the Captain was in a hurry. Why, we may never know. He was determined to make the crossing in sixteen hours.¡± He turned to look at Eddie again, and there was a strange intensity in his eyes that disturbed him a little. ¡°Maybe it was important to him to reach Harwich before midday. Whatever the reason, it was just ten minutes before noon when the ship drew close to port. It slipped past Landguard Point with its cranes and warehouses. Past Ha''penny pier, devoid of the usual crowd of gawping tourists that cold November day. It entered the brown, sludgy waters of the River Stour and it pulled up at the quayside at the very stroke of noon itself.¡±


    Eddie found his eyes narrowing with suspicion. ¡°So it made the crossing then,¡± he said.


    The other man nodded. ¡°The passengers disembarked. Shortly afterwards most of the crew did as well. Just another successful sea crossing, no different from a thousand others it had made.¡± He drew a heavy breath. ¡°No different at all.¡±


    ¡°I thought you were going to say that the ship sank or something.¡±


    ¡°Why would you think that?¡±


    ¡°Well, why tell the story otherwise?¡±


    ¡°I was just saying that it was a day just like today. Not everything has to be a drama, does it?¡±


    ¡°You said it was the last time the ship made the crossing!¡±


    ¡°That''s right. It was an old ship. It was moved to Edinburgh, where it was broken up for scrap later that year.¡± He was struggling to keep a straight face now, though, and a moment later both men broke out in laughter. ¡°You''re a lunatic.¡± said Eddie, wiping the tears from his eyes.


    ¡°That accusation has been made by others. Ben Wrexham.¡± He held out his gloved hand.


    ¡°Eddie Nash.¡± He took the other man''s hand and shook it.


    ¡°I''m sorry, I''m just not very good at starting conversations, that¡¯s all. I find that telling a stupid story is a good way to break the ice with someone.¡±


    Oh God! thought Eddie, taking his hand back rather faster than he''d meant to. Is he making a pass at me? If he was, he was going to be disappointed. Eddie was very much a lady''s man. He tried to think of ways to turn him down politely, without causing offense. Not that it mattered if he did cause offence, of course. They''d never met each other before and would very likely never meet again, although there was something vaguely familiar about him...


    ¡°Is that how you broke the ice with your wife when you first met her?¡± he asked, then cursed himself. He''d assumed the man was married and was trying to politely remind him of the fact, but if he wasn''t... He''d think Eddie wanted to know if he was single. He''d think he was responding to his approach. ¡°I always have a hard time finding the first words to say to a pretty girl,¡± he said hurriedly. There, now he knows I''m straight.


    Ben smiled with amusement, as if he could read the younger man''s thoughts. ¡°I want to offer you a job,¡± he said.


    ¡°A job? You don''t know me.¡±


    ¡°I''m afraid I know you quite well. I''ve done quite a bit of research on you. You were born in Basildon, Essex, and educated at Preston Grammar School. In twenty thirty eight you were awarded a scholarship to attend St John¡¯s College, Cambridge where you graduated with first class honours in natural science and physics. You currently work as assistant demonstrator in experimental physics at the Cavendish Laboratory where you have co-authored several papers on nuclear dynamics and casimir radiation with your head of department, Andrew Sterling. You are strongly tipped to replace him when he retires in a year or two, which would make you the youngest person ever to hold the position. You are regarded as a rising star. A prodigy. The most brilliant physicist since Rutherford.¡±


    Eddie stared in astonishment. ¡°Now I recognise you. You were at the conference. Ben Wrexham. Professor Ben Wrexham? You''re that Ben Wrexham?¡± The older man hung his head modestly. ¡°I can''t believe I didn''t recognise you. You gave a lecture on neutron decay just yesterday. It was brilliant!¡±


    ¡°Thank you. We''ve been keeping an eye on you for some time, I''m afraid. I''m sorry if that¡¯s a bit creepy...¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s we?¡±


    ¡°I''m the head of a team working for the British government whose job it is to undertake a rather special research project. A project that¡¯s been going on for well over fifty years and that will very probably still be going on well after you and I are in our graves. It''s top secret. We can''t publish any papers on the work we do. You will still be well known in the field of high energy physics, though. We all have side projects that we can publish papers on. This is important, because we have to interact with the wider scientific community. Get the input of other scientists without them realising what they''re really advising us on. That means they have to respect us, and that means published papers. You can spend some of your time continuing to work on your current projects. You can continue to talk to your current colleagues, so long as you don¡¯t tell them what you¡¯re really working on.¡±


    ¡°And what will I really be working on?¡±


    ¡°I''m afraid I can''t tell you that yet. Not until we get your answer. I know this is a lot to ask of you. You already have a brilliant future ahead of you. A virtually guaranteed position as one of the foremost authorities in the world...¡±


    His voice broke off as his attention was distracted by something coming into view to his left. A wind turbine, towering above them, its gleaming metal trunk rising out of the water no more than a couple of dozen meters from the side of the ferry.


    The two men spun around, and saw more wind turbines beyond it. A whole forest of them, their blades, each the size of an airliner¡¯s wing, motionless in the still night air. ¡°I''m pretty sure we''re not supposed to be that close to them,¡± said Eddie in alarm.


    ¡°We''re certainly not,¡± agreed Ben. ¡°There¡¯s supposed to be an exclusion zone. We must be off course.¡±


    ¡°How can we be off course? That''s just not possible nowadays. Modern navigation techniques...¡±


    The two men stared as the huge shaft of steel, as wide across as a house and painted a bright yellow to make it easily visible to anyone careless or stupid enough to get this close, drifted slowly past to the sound of the ship''s wake slapping against its mussel and barnacle covered base. One of its blades was pointing straight down, and as the ferry passed below, the top of the aerial mast passed just a couple of meters from its stationary tip.


    ¡°Wow that was close,¡± muttered Eddie, his whole body shivering with nervous energy. He felt as though he was tip toeing past a terrible monster that somehow, miraculously, had failed to wake up. ¡°This ship''s navigator is so fired.¡±


    ¡°Fired?¡± said Ben in a half laugh. ¡°He''ll be lucky to avoid jail time. Endangering a ship on the high seas...¡±


    The two men walked forward along the deck, wanting to see what lay ahead of the ship. Were they just passing the wind farm, skirting it to one side, in which case the danger was now past, or were they passing through It? ¡°How deep is the water here?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°Could we run aground?¡±


    ¡°No idea,¡± replied the older man. ¡°I would imagine it¡¯s easier to  build those things where the water''s not too deep, but...¡± He allowed the sentence to trail off, and both men kept well away from the railing in case a sudden lurch of the ship threw them overboard.


    There were very few people up on the ferry¡¯s deck. Most of the passengers were inside, in the warm, but those who were standing by the railing had also seen the towering colossus and were talking among themselves in loud, alarmed voices. A woman standing by the nearest lifeboat had a phone in her hand and was talking to someone, here eyes wide and her breathing rapid with fear. She was holding it to take a selfie of herself and the towering bulk of the turbine behind her, to prove to the friend on the other end of the phone that she wasn''t hallucinating. As they passed, Eddie heard a screech of disbelief coming from the phone''s speaker. Yeah, you and me both, he thought.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Seeing it gave Ben an idea and he stopped to pull his own phone from his pocket. ¡°Let''s see where we are,¡± he said, bringing up a map on the screen. Eddie leaned closer to see. The screen glowed brightly in the evening gloom and Ben scrolled the map to bring the North Sea into view. He reverse pinched it to magnify it. ¡°That''s odd,¡± he said. ¡°The phone thinks we''re fifty miles south of the nearest wind farm.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes it takes a moment or two to work out where we are,¡± said Eddie, but as seconds passed the little marker on the screen refused to move, continuing to insist that they were thirty miles west of Rotterdam, in a well established shipping lane. Right where they were supposed to be.


    ¡°Perhaps the map¡¯s out of date,¡± he suggested. ¡°They''re building new wind farms all the time. There''s this really huge one they¡¯re thinking of building...¡± He knew it was a ridiculous thing to say even as he was saying it. Shipping would be told to avoid new wind farm sites well before there was anything there for them to run into.


    The ferry was beginning to turn, they saw. The crew, normally too busy watching computer screens to do anything as mundane as looking out the windows, had also noticed the turbines and were trying to steer the ship to safety. ¡°They must think there¡¯s clear water to the south,¡± said Ben. ¡°Or perhaps they just hope there is. Let''s get to the bows.¡± Eddie nodded and the two men continued their way forward.


    A crowd of passengers, who had apparently become aware of what was happening some time before the two scientists, had had the same idea and were emerging onto the deck, pulling warm coats around themselves as they did so. A crewman was also looking anxiously out to sea and several passengers were demanding answers from him in loud, angry voices. ¡°He doesn''t know anything, idiots.¡± muttered Ben to himself. ¡°Leave the poor man alone.¡± He didn''t say this to the passengers, though, to Eddie''s relief. That wasn''t a scene they wanted to get caught up in.


    There was a small knot of passengers at the bow, crowded up against the railing, but they didn''t block their view of the wind turbines towering above them up ahead, one of them directly in their path. ¡°Shit!¡± said Eddie with feeling. ¡°This could be bad.¡±


    The ferry was still turning and the huge steel structure was slipping slowly to the side, but not fast enough. The ship gave a lurch as the engines were put into reverse, but their forward movement was scarcely affected. ¡°They say a supertanker takes twenty miles to stop,¡± said Ben, staring at the wind turbine as it grew menacingly ahead of them. ¡°I wonder how long a cross channel ferry takes to stop?¡±


    The passengers at the bow began to back away, some of them running for the imagined safety of the nearest hatch inside. Ben and Eddie merely took a firm hold of the handrail of the staircase leading up to the next deck. ¡°I know we''re in little real danger,¡± said Eddie, ¡°but I still find myself wishing for a life jacket.¡±


    ¡°This ship and the turbine both have vertical sides,¡± agreed Ben. ¡°The impact, if there is one, will be above the waterline, and it¡¯ll be a sliding contact. The turbine might suffer some serious damage, but the worst that''ll happen to the ship is that there¡¯ll be a long stretch of hull in need of a new coat of paint. You¡¯re right, though. The brain seeks reassurance.¡±


    A woman standing nearby stared at him and nodded vigorously, then turned to share Ben''s words with her friends. They looked relieved for a moment, but the moment they looked back at the turbine Eddie saw the fear return to their faces. The thing was just too huge, just too tall, like a giant out of a fairy tale. Until you got this close to one, it was impossible to understand just how gigantic they were! A vast, overwhelming presence that could only mean bad things for anything that dared to approach.


    The impact, when it came, though, was just as Ben had said it would be. A steel staircase running up the side of the turbine¡¯s base was torn to ruin as the ferry brushed past it, and then the shaft of the turbine itself came into contact with the ferry¡¯s hull. The ship rocked with the impact and the two men held on tight to prevent themselves from being thrown from their feet. Then the ship steadied itself, although it sat at a slight angle in the water as it continued to move on.


    The scream of friction as the two steel surfaces rubbed against each other was deafening, but neither structure seemed to suffer any serious damage. It might have been different if they''d been passing the turbine on the side in which the blades were facing, since the ship''s highest structures were almost at the same level as the downward pointing blade, but luck was with them and they were on the turbine¡¯s other side. A young man was trying to say something to his wife, they saw, but the din was so great that she couldn''t hear him, even though she leaned closer so that her ear was right next to his mouth. They could only wait, hands over their ears, until the ferry and the turbine parted at last, the ship righting itself to float upright in the water once more.


    A dozen different conversations broke out at once as silence fell, and almost everyone was pointing their phone cameras at the receding turbine, one side of which, they saw, was now buckled inwards and gleaming where the paint had been stripped from the freshly exposed steel.


    ¡°I''m no structural engineer,¡± admitted Ben, ¡°But I reckon they''ll be wanting to take a look at that. The structure¡¯s been seriously weakened. Looks like it might buckle and fall in a high wind.¡±


    ¡°Looks expensive,¡± agreed Eddie. ¡°What about the ship?¡± He looked over the side, trying to see the damage. ¡°I can''t see anything. I would imagine they make ships stronger than wind turbines. They move, after all, and carry passengers.¡±


    Ben nodded. ¡°The only danger, I think, will be if the hull plates have separated, letting water in. I''m afraid my knowledge of ship design is sorely inadequate. So long as we''re not taking on water, though, we should be okay.¡± He looked ahead. There was nothing but open water ahead of them now, and the engines were put back into forward gear as the bridge crew tried to get the ship out of danger. ¡°Quite an adventure, all in all. Something to tell the grandkids about. I don''t imagine we''ll ever find out what happened. Someone on the bridge fell asleep, probably, or the ship¡¯s navigation developed a nasty glitch. These things happen, after all, and more often than people like to think.¡±


    ¡°What about the phone?¡± asked Eddie. He''d pulled his own phone from his pocket and pulled up a map app. The map was failing to load, though, and after waiting a few minutes he gave up and put it back in his pocket. Probably everyone was using that app at the moment, he thought, and the internet was overloaded.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put too much faith in the accuracy of a smartphone app,¡± said the other man, though. ¡°I would imagine that this ship''s navigation systems are a good deal more sophisticated.¡±


    Someone shouted. A woman. She was pointing at something off to starboard and everyone else was staring, some of them gasping with horror. The two scientists looked and saw another ship. A large container ship, considerably larger than the ferry and piled high with shipping containers. It was almost fully dark now and most of the ship was hidden in the darkness, but the bridge and crew quarters half way back along the ship were brightly lit with light spilling from the windows. Portholes, Eddie corrected himself. Windows on a ship are called portholes. The light was enough to illuminate the lower parts of two nearby wind turbines, one on the ferry¡¯s side of the ship, the other partly hidden from view behind the huge container ship. The ship was sailing neatly between them, but the silver moonlight was illuminating another that appeared to be directly on its path. ¡°Shit!¡± said Eddie, his stomach clenching up in awful anticipation.


    ¡°This could be bad.¡± agreed Ben. ¡°That ship won''t just glance off the turbine, like we did. Its momentum will take it right through it. Maybe it''ll miss. It''s hard to tell from this angle...¡±


    He didn''t sound as though he believed it, though, and neither did Eddie. Neither did the other passengers, to judge from the muttered, fearful conversations and the number of phones being held up to record the event. Everyone knew what was going to happen, so that when it happened there was nothing but a great sigh of awe and horror from the captivated spectators.


    The wind turbine bent backwards slowly and majestically while the container ship continued onwards without any visible change to its motion. When it fell, it did so all in one piece, toppling back into the water with a splash whose size was made evident by the slowness with which foaming water rose up around it. The spray hung around the ship for a long age, hiding its entire front end from view while gasps rose from the ferry passengers, and when it cleared they saw that the water was too shallow for the turbine to be completely submerged. The blades remained above the surface; wide, dark shapes, their edges gleaming in the moonlight like knives that some careless giant had dropped directly in the path of the container ship.


    They saw the front end of the ship rise as it slid onto the blades, then drop again as the structure of the turbine was crushed beneath it. So great was its momentum that the ship continued moving forward against engines that, they assumed, must have been slammed into reverse.


    ¡°That turbine will be a mass of jagged steel shards now,¡± said Ben, his voice hushed with shock. ¡°Tearing the ship''s hull open like the claws of a tiger. That ship''s finished, it must be.¡±


    ¡°At least the water''s shallow,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Even when it settles onto the sea bed, its top will still be above sea level.¡±


    ¡°Shallow is a relative term,¡± said the older man, though. ¡°Twenty, thirty metres maybe. Don¡¯t let the turbine fool you. Remember how huge those thing are.¡±


    Eddie nodded, remembering the one the ferry had passed by.


    ¡°A shipping container is about two and a half metres high," continued Ben, "so that ship is about...¡± He stared, using the containers as a ruler. ¡°The top of the bridge is about thirty metres above sea level, give or take. It could well sink completely. Vanish entirely beneath the waves.¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡± said Eddie. ¡°You hear about disasters at sea, but to actually witness one...¡±


    He glanced around at the passengers. Virtually every passenger was now up on deck, it seemed, and the majority were filming the disaster with their smart phones. The event, now that their own danger was passed, was nothing more than an evening''s entertainment for them. Eddie felt a wave of disgust, then forced it down when he remembered that there was nothing they could do at present. It wasn''t as if they could go to the aid of the emperilled sailors instead of filming them.


    ¡°How can two ships go astray at the same time?¡± muttered Ben to himself. ¡°I think we owe the navigator an apology. There''s clearly something bigger going on here. The global GPS system.¡±


    ¡°That would explain your phone as well,¡± agreed Eddie. ¡°A glitch, you think? Something like the millennium bug but a few decades late?¡±


    ¡°Or sabotage,¡± said Ben. ¡°Someone hacked it, perhaps. Terrorists or something.¡±


    Both men fell silent as the implications sank in. If the GPS system had been sabotaged it would be causing mayhem all over the world. Not just ships but aircraft, hundreds of miles from their intended destinations and desperately looking for somewhere to land before they ran out of fuel. There might already have been tragedies. Ben pulled the phone from his pocket and brought up a news app.


    Eddie looked over his shoulder as the progress bar crept across the screen, then stopped half way. ¡°A GPS failure would affect the internet too,¡± said Ben as he put the phone back in his pocket. ¡°Most data traffic goes by way of undersea cables, but some goes by satellite, and they use GPS timing signals to synchronise themselves. The internet''s going to be sluggish until they sort this out.¡±


    ¡°Who would do a thing like this?¡± asked Eddie, aghast with horror. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not just travellers going off course. Banks use GPS to synchronise transactions, so do international traders. Police, fire fighters, power grids, god knows what else. Who hates us that much?¡±


    ¡°To quote a friend of mine, some people just want to watch the world burn.¡±


    They both turned their attention back to the container ship, which was now visibly lower at the front end. The ferry was slowing to a stop, and a moment later the ship''s intercom crackled to life. ¡°Your attention please, ladies and gentlemen,¡± said a man''s voice. ¡°This is your captain speaking. As you are no doubt already aware, the container ship Sabrina Bay has run over a wind turbine and is sinking. The crew will shortly be taking to the lifeboats and we will be taking them aboard. We will, therefore, be remaining in the area for a few hours, which means that our arrival in Harwich will be delayed. We apologise for the inconvenience, but I know you will all understand and will be glad to give assistance to our fellow sea travellers.¡±


    A babble of consternated conversation broke out in the crowd, and the two scientists made their way quietly back to the stern of the ship. ¡°It could be us sinking,¡± said Ben, shaking his head with disbelief, ¡°and instead of being thankful they¡¯re just angry that they''ll be late for their, for whatever it is they''re in such a hurry to get back for.¡±


    ¡°But we will get there,¡± said Eddie, smiling. ¡°We''ll get back to port and we''ll disembark safely. And it was a night just like this.¡±


    Ben chuckled, and they stopped by the railing to watch the crew of the container ship lowering their lifeboats.

 Chapter two

    The woman''s yelp of terror woke him up.


    Paul Lewis jerked awake, adrenalin flooding his body, ready to fly to the assistance of the women in distress, but then he relaxed as he remembered where he was and why his fellow astronaut was screaming. He chuckled to himself and allowed himself to relax back under the elastic webbing that was holding him in place in his cot.


    Deep beneath the large frontal cortex of which humans were so proud, a primitive primate brain still lurked. So long as you were awake the frontal cortex was in charge. Sensible. Rational. Fully aware of the circumstances in which it found itself. During the still half asleep part of waking up, though, the primate brain could briefly find itself fully in charge, just for a moment or two before the frontal cortex also woke up and took hold of the reins. Normally, that wasn¡¯t a problem. The primate was content to just lie there, relaxing. Enjoying the peace and quiet. When you were in space, though, in free fall...


    The feeling was quite unmistakable, even when strapped into a cot, elastic straps holding your body firmly onto the padded mattress. The internal organs, floating freely inside the body cavity instead of lying heavily against the spine and pelvis, created a ¡®going too fast over a humpy bridge¡¯ feeling that was the first thing you were aware of as you woke up. The primate brain only knew one reason for being in free fall. You¡¯d fallen out of the tree in which you''d been sleeping and were about to hit the hard, African savannah floor. Injuries were sure to result. Broken bones that would leave you helpless to defend yourself against leopards and the other predators that had terrorised the prehistoric world. The primate brain went into full panic mode, therefore, until the frontal cortex woke up and took over.


    ¡°You okay?¡± asked Paul, struggling to keep the humour out of his voice. An embarrassed mumble came from the next cubicle and the curtain twitched as Susan Kendall unstrapped herself from the sleep webbing.


    ¡°I thought I was over that.¡± she complained, her voice slurred and sleepy. ¡°Two weeks since the last time. I thought, good. I''m finally adapting. My stupid brain''s finally got the message.¡±


    The curtain twitched again, and Paul imagined her putting on her tight sports bra, the only item of clothing capable of keeping her breasts from floating and bouncing in the weightless environment. Connie McCloud, an older, experienced astronaut, had recommended them to her, recounting her own experiences with wayward body parts during here own space missions, and Paul had never quite forgiven her for it. The sports bra was too uncomfortable to wear at night, though, and so she took it off, leaving her male crewmates dreaming of a sudden emergency that would require her to leap out of her bunk and into action before she had the chance to dress.


    Paul mentally scolded himself for his immaturity. I''m forty five years old. he told himself. I have a wife, two children and a grandchild. I''m too old to be fantasizing about tits like an adolescent. The attraction was too strong to ignore, though, except through the exertion of willpower. It was hardwired into the brain. A relic from infancy when the baby''s survival depended on finding a nipple and latching onto it. Or at least that¡¯s the way it was for men. If the theory was true, he mused, you would expect an adult woman''s eyes to be drawn to breasts in the same way, but he''d never found a woman who would admit to it. Perhaps they were afraid of being labelled lesbians, even today, in the latter half of the twenty first century.


    He made use of the small bathroom cubicle, then emerged and got dressed. The space station had two habitation modules, and occasionally the suggestion had been made to assign one as the men¡¯s quarters and the other as the women¡¯s, for reasons of decency and privacy. That might have worked if the station always had equal numbers of men and women aboard, but that would have meant choosing crews according to gender instead of ability, something that the high minded scientists had always resisted. That didn''t mean that it was always men who were in the majority, though. There had been two six week periods in the five years since Harmony had been completed during which the women had outnumbered the men, and it was scheduled to happen again early next year, although Paul¡¯s tour of duty would, sadly, have long ended by then.


    After two months aboard the Harmony Space Station, he¡¯d gotten good at getting dressed in zero gravity and he pulled on his one piece coverall with practised ease. While he was zipping up the front Susan emerged wearing her sports bra and a skimpy pair of briefs and took her turn in the bathroom cubicle. She glanced at him as she floated past, as if expecting him to ogle her or make a joking remark about her primate brain experience, but he just pulled his soft slippers onto his feet and adjusted his ankle cuffs around them for comfort, focusing his attention entirely upon this task until she was in the cubicle with the curtain drawn behind her. Large though the space station was, it was impossible for them to get very far apart from each other and they were scheduled to be here for several weeks longer yet. They had to get along together, avoid annoying or embarrassing each other. He had to act the perfect gentleman, therefore, and so, as soon as he was finished dressing and combing his short cut hair, he pulled himself through the hatch into node five, then through one of its three other exits into the command module.


    Lauren Kelly, the current station commander, and Zhang Yong, one of the shuttle pilots, were there waiting for him. ¡°What have I missed?¡± he asked as he scanned his eyes across the main status monitor. Every light was either green or yellow, he saw, and the yellow lights were all on the bottom two rows, signifying minor systems. Things that would be tackled by their routine maintenance schedules. In the weeks he¡¯d been there, only one red light had ever appeared, and that had also been on the bottom row. A printed circuit board in the microwave oven that had overheated due to an accumulation of dust in the air vents. A quick once over with a vacuum cleaner had sorted it out.


    ¡°Up here, not much,¡± replied Lauren without taking her eyes from the monitor that had her attention. ¡°There was a three percent drop in power from the solar panels while you were asleep. The power dropped in five discrete stages, as if they suffered some kind of minor damage.¡±


    ¡°Micro meteorites?¡± asked Paul, pushing himself over to look at her screen.


    ¡°That would be my guess. Punching holes in the panels. We may have passed through an uncharted meteor shower, too small to have been noticed before. There''s been no drop in pressure anywhere in the station, so we weren''t punctured.¡±


    ¡°I''ll send the robot out to have a look.¡±


    ¡°Please send it to look at Tianshi as well,¡± said Zhang, looking up from the observatory station. ¡°I wish to see if the heat shield was damaged.¡±


    ¡°The accelerometer didn¡¯t register any impacts,¡± said Lauren, ¡°but it¡¯s still best to be safe.¡±


    Paul nodded. ¡°I''ll look at the shuttle as well,¡± he said, grabbing a handhold to propel himself towards the ROMIS station. He guided himself into the chair, musing on how they still felt the need to be seated in order to do any kind of work in front of a computer screen, even in a weightless environment. It was necessary to be held in place, of course, to prevent oneself from drifting away from the touch pads, but was it really necessary for ones bottom to be in a seat? For the legs to be folded to make a lap? It felt comfortable and familiar, though. You could fool yourself into thinking that you were back on earth, in an office building, rather than hurtling through space at twenty thousand kilometres an hour, and perhaps that was the point. He belted himself in and brought up the diagnostic screen. ¡°In fact, I''ll look at the shuttle first, since it''s one of our lifeboats.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said the pilot, turning back to his own work.


    ¡°Anything else?¡± asked Paul as the screen began to fill up with status reports.


    ¡°Up here, that¡¯s about it,¡± Lauren and Zhang shared a look. ¡°Things have been a bit more interesting down on earth, though.¡±


    ¡°Why? What happened?¡±


    ¡°The entire GPS system collapsed.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Paul looked up in astonishment.


    ¡°It''s been chaos down there. Ships and aircraft going off course. Every stock market crashed simultaneously, trillions wiped from every major economy. They''re talking about the biggest depression since the nineteen twenties.¡± She reached over to the ROMIS workstation and touched a button. The diagnostic screen was immediately replaced by the BBC news front page, topped by the words ¡®GPS CHAOS¡¯ in screaming large type. Another, smaller headline read ¡°Experts disagree on cause¡¯, followed by an article in which the reporter gave a long list of possible causes that Paul could only assume he¡¯d gotten from his tea lady. ¡°Sunspots?¡± he said. ¡°A solar flare? Has there been a solar flare?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± said Lauren. ¡°Zhang and I have a little bet on. He says terrorists hacked the GSA mainframe, while I say an engineer spilled a cup of tea over a workstation.¡±


    ¡°It wasn''t terrorists,¡± said Paul confidently. ¡°Terrorists are idiots. They plant bombs or shoot people. They don''t have the nous for this kind of thing.¡±


    ¡°Nous?¡± asked Zhang.


    ¡°Know how, training. No, if it was sabotage it must have been a disgruntled former employee or something. Someone who knew the system. What about the other GPS systems? Your lot have one, don''t they? The Chinese, I mean. And there¡¯s a European system, a Russian system. There''s about half a dozen GPS systems, aren''t there? We were even thinking of creating one of our own, a couple of decades back. Britain, I mean. Back during that whole Brexit thing.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°These days they''re all interlinked,¡± replied Lauren. "All part of one big network, and all controlled from one place. I assume it made sense to someone, once.¡±


    ¡°What did?¡± asked Susan, joining them in the command module. She was wearing a set of coveralls identical to those worn by the others, except for the national flag on the upper arm. An American stars and stripes.


    Lauren quickly filled her in on what had happened and her eyes widened with shock. ¡°Are we in danger?¡± she asked.


    ¡°No,¡± said Lauren. ¡°They use radar to fix our location, and our communications are secure. We''re in no danger...¡±


    The uplink from Canberra chose that moment to bleep, signalling that a message was coming in and that they had to drop whatever they were doing to pay attention. ¡°Harmony station, Harmony station, this is Canberra. You still up there?¡±


    Lauren touched a screen beside the speaker. ¡°This is Harmony station. We''re still here. That you, George? How you doing down there?¡±


    ¡°We''re fine, Lauren. The power grid''s crazy, we''re on emergency generators here. Most of us had no idea that so many things were dependant on the GPS system. Listen, we don''t have time for the usual light hearted banter, you have to make an emergency course correction. You have five minutes to prepare to fire the orbital boosters and the shuttle engines.¡±


    The four astronauts stared at each other in astonishment. ¡°The station''s boosters and the shuttle engines?¡± said Paul, thinking he must have misheard. He meant they should fire one or the other, surely. They did this about once a month, on average, to boost the space station up into a higher orbit. Harmony orbited five hundred kilometres up, but there was a tiny bit of atmosphere even that high up and it caused drag, slowing the station and dropping it into a lower orbit. If they didn''t boost themselves back up, Harmony would fall out of the sky within two or three years.


    ¡°Negative, Harmony. Please prepare to fire both. You''ll need them both to stabilise your orbit. I''ll explain later, but first please begin the shuttle''s emergency start-up procedure.¡±


    Zhang nodded. He unclipped himself from his chair and pushed himself towards the exit hatch. Paul, meanwhile, unclipped himself from his own seat and used a handhold to pull himself across to the main systems station. He secured himself in the chair, tapped the main touchscreen to bring up the station systems overview, then selected the propulsion subsystem. A graphic popped up showing the status of the two thruster pods attached to the station. Everything was green and the fuel levels showed eighty six per cent full. The right hand side of the screen contained a long list of input boxes where the parameters of the burn could be entered. ¡°Ready to input parameters,¡± he said.


    ¡°You won''t need parameters,¡± said George in Canberra, though. ¡°Just make sure the station''s correctly aligned, then fire the pods until they''re empty.¡±


    Everyone in the command module stared at each other in shock. ¡°What the hell¡¯s going on, George?¡± demanded Lauren. She''d brought the radar screen up on her display. ¡°I don''t see anything out there. Are we going to hit something?¡±


    ¡°What''s going on?¡± asked Ying Yue, the botanist, looking in through the hatch from node five. ¡°I just saw Zhang flying past like all the demons of Diyu were chasing him.¡±


    ¡°Our altitude shows four hundred and eighty five kilometres,¡± said Lauren. ¡°That''s about what it should be.¡±


    ¡°That''s your altitude now,¡± said George¡¯s voice from the speaker. ¡°Thirty minutes ago, your altitude was two hundred and sixty kilometres.¡±


    ¡°That''s impossible!¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s accurate?¡± said Paul. ¡°It¡¯s not connected to that GPS thing is it?¡±


    ¡°Negative, we confirmed your altitude with radar. We thought there must be some mistake, we''ve been checking and double checking. There''s no mistake. Something knocked you into a more elliptical orbit with a perigee only two hundred and sixty kilometres. You need to burn everything you¡¯ve got during the apogee period to circularise your orbit or you''re coming home the hard way.¡±


    ¡°We did suffer a number of small impacts,¡± said Lauren, ¡°but nothing that could account for such a large course deviation. An impact large enough to do that would have destroyed us.¡±


    ¡°We can solve the mystery later,¡± said George. ¡°Right now, we''ve just got to save the station. How are you doing, Zhang?¡±


    ¡°I''ll be ready to fire the shuttle¡¯s engines in thirty seconds. I''m overriding a dozen safety systems to do this. Are you sure it¡¯s safe?¡±


    ¡°Safer than not doing it. Fire as soon as you''re ready.¡±


    ¡°How long a burn?¡±


    ¡°Just keep firing until you''re out of fuel.¡±


    There was a pause as the pilot digested the command. ¡°That will leave the shuttle unable to break orbit and return to earth,¡± he said at last.


    ¡°Can''t be helped. You''ll still have the Colibri shuttle. The Jinlong can be refuelled later. Fire as soon as you''re ready. That goes for you too, Paul. Fire as soon as you''re ready.¡±


    ¡°Wilco.¡± said Paul, looking at the switch beside the touch screen display, one of the few physical switches the space station still had.  Most of the station''s controls were either touch screen or voice activated these days. Only the most important, most dangerous controls still required the physical movement of a switch, something that would be hard to do by accident. It had a guard over it for extra protection. He lifted it and put his finger on the shiny stub of metal.


    Lauren, meanwhile, was activating the station''s intercom. ¡°Attention all hands,¡± she said. ¡°Prepare for acceleration. Acceleration will last for twenty minutes. Secure all loose objects. Close all node hatches and prepare for acceleration.¡± Ying Yue closed the hatch she¡¯d just come in through, and the station shook as other hatches were closed further away.


    A Chinese voice issued from a speaker. ¡°What the hell, Lauren? I''ve got three vats of molten alloy in here. You''ll make the metals separate. It''ll be ruined!¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t be helped. Prepare for acceleration.¡±


    ¡°We''re supposed to have a full day''s warning...¡±


    Lauren touched the screen to shut off the voice. ¡°Okay Paul,¡± she said. ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    They were aware of a gentle acceleration even before Paul flipped the switch, though. Zhang must have ignited the shuttle''s engines. The reusable space plane, docked by the nose to the station''s main axis which ran through its centre of mass, was gently pushing it faster in its orbit around the earth. A moment later, the station''s two built in thruster pods also fired into life, one on each side of the main axis. The station was supposed to be perfectly balanced for this, with everything, including people, arranged so that the centre of mass was perfectly positioned on the axis. There hadn''t been time for that, though, and as a result the station began to slowly rotate.


    The stabilising gyroscope, located at the centre of mass, started spinning to stop the rotation and keep the station aligned. Within five minutes it was spinning much faster than it had ever been intended to, and the steadily rising number on Lauren¡¯s display turned yellow, then red. If it burned out, they would have no choice but to abandon the space station. Her eyes widened as the number rose higher and higher, and sweat broke out on her forehead. ¡°Don''t burn out.¡± she whispered under her breath. ¡°Don''t burn out.¡± She reached for the intercom switch. ¡°Bao, Benny, please go to the Icarus module. Straight away please.¡±


    ¡°We''re under acceleration!¡± A voice came back from the speaker.


    ¡°I know. Please go to the Icarus module.¡±


    After several weeks of getting used to freefall, the very slight gravity caused by the firing of the thrusters would make the trip along modules and through nodes seem novel and unusual to the scandinavian and the station''s third Chinese crew member, Lauren thought. She rather envied them the experience. A moment later, though, the number under the gyroscope indicator began to fall again as the movement of the two crewmen shifted the station''s centre of mass to the other side of the main axis. The off centre thrust began rotating the space station in the opposite direction and the gyroscope countered it by gently slowing, releasing the angular momentum it had been storing up. After a couple of minutes the number turned from red to yellow and the station commander breathed a sigh of relief. She''d be a lot happier when it went green, but yellow was definitely better than red.


    Then an alarm sounded and an indictator on the main status monitor turned red. It must have been yellow for several minutes already and she¡¯d been too preoccupied with the gyroscope to notice. Docking port three was indicating a stress violation. That was the port the Calibri, the European shuttle, was docked at. It was on the end of one of the station¡¯s lateral struts, perpendicular to the direction of thrust, and the acceleration was giving the shuttle weight. The shuttle was, in effect, hanging by the docking port, which had never been intended to bear that kind of load. The burn was more than half over, though. If the docking clamps had held this long... She glanced over at the display showing the fuel remaining. It was dropping with a speed she would normally have found alarming, but she suddenly found herself hoping that it would drop even faster.


    ¡°Five minutes until fuel depletion,¡± said Paul with a steady voice. ¡°How we looking, George?¡±


    ¡°You''re looking good,¡± the ground control''s comms officer replied. ¡°Showing some stress in the nodes, but nothing we can do about that. Our structural experts say you should hold together.¡±


    ¡°That''s very reassuring, George. Do we have a contingency plan for if we don''t?¡±


    ¡°We''re confident that¡¯s not going to happen, Paul. Just relax and enjoy the ride.¡±


    Which was code for ¡®If a node fails, you''re all dead,¡¯ Paul knew. The station consisted of twelve major modules and seven smaller ones connected by eight nodes; spherical units with six doors arranged at the faces of a cube. They had been designed to withstand the small amount of stress caused by the firing of the orbital boosters, but with the shuttle firing as well they were currently having to carry more than twice as great a load. If the clamps holding a node to a module failed, that module would be torn loose and be left drifting alone in space. The hatches would hold the air in and save the crew, but they would be trapped inside it until the air ran out. Also, what was left of the station would be left spinning out of control, with far more angular momentum than the gyroscope could handle. They would soon run out of power as the solar panels no longer faced the sun, and the armoured leading face of the station would no longer be in position to sweep up the debris left in orbit during the careless, early days of space travel. The spin would also make it impossible to launch either the Calibri or either of the emergency re-entry modules. It might take hours or days, but the deaths of everyone aboard would be certain.


    They tensed up anxiously as the hatch behind them creaked and groaned, therefore, and Lauren found her eyes glued to the fuel display, willing it to drop faster. The shuttle''s fuel ran out first, though, and they all breathed a sigh of relief as the stress indicators dropped, one by one turning back to yellow. Twenty seconds later the boosters fell silent as well, and the vibrations that had been shaking the station for twenty minutes stopped.


    ¡°Status!¡± said Lauren breathlessly, her eyes wide with relief.


    ¡°Green across the board,¡± said Paul, grinning like an idiot. ¡°We made it. How are we, George?¡±


    ¡°We''ll need to watch you for a while, but you''re looking good. Your current altitude is four hundred and seventy two kilometres. We''ll send up a supply shuttle to refuel you as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Good to hear, George.¡± She turned to the others. ¡°I''ll be happier when we''ve carried out a visual check to make sure we came through it in one piece. Go take a look around, will you?¡±


    The others nodded, unstrapped themselves from their seats and swam through the air towards the hatchway. As they went, Lauren turned her attention back to the uplink. ¡°And now, George, why don¡¯t you tell me what in the name of heaven in going on?¡±


    As George''s voice issued from the speaker, her eyes widened with astonishment and fear.

 Chapter Three

    ¡°Mummy! The telly¡¯s not working!¡±


    Samantha Kumiko was concentrating on listening to what her guest was saying, and so tuned out her daughter¡¯s complaint. The six year old girl had to cry out twice more before her mother finally turned to see what was wrong. ¡°Quiet, please, Lily. Mummy¡¯s talking.¡±


    ¡°But the telly¡¯s not working!¡±


    ¡°Well, play with your tablet instead.¡± She turned back to her guest.


    ¡°But I want to see the cartoons! The cartoons are on!¡±


    ¡°You can see the cartoons later. Play with your tablet. Mummy¡¯s trying to talk.¡±


    Her guest was looking at the television, though. The screen had turned blue and there were some small words in the upper corner. She put down the small, china teacup and got up from her chair to get a better look. ¡°It''s not getting a satellite signal,¡± she said. ¡°Probably clouds in the sky or something.¡±


    Samantha looked out the window. It was heavily overcast, but it usually took heavy rain to block the satellite signal. Maybe it was raining to the south. The satellite would be low on the horizon from this latitude. ¡°Yes, probably,¡± she said. She picked up the remote control and switched to the terrestrial channels, then handed it to the child. ¡°Here, find some cartoons.¡± The girl took it and switched between channels, a pouty look on her face.


    ¡°They''re delightful at that age,¡± said Connie, her guest, watching with a wistful smile on her face.


    ¡°Are you still trying?¡± asked Samantha.


    ¡°Still trying. Still no luck. Tim keeps talking about trying IVF, but...¡± She looked out the window again.


    ¡°You''ve never liked hospitals, have you?¡±


    ¡°They''re so... Cold. I don''t mean cold in the temperature sense. I mean...¡±


    ¡°Antiseptic,¡± said Samantha helpfully. ¡°Clinical. Impersonal.¡±


    Connie nodded. ¡°That''s no way to create a child. Children are made with love, not with syringes and test tubes. The thought of our lovely child being created in a place like that...¡±


    ¡°Lots of people use IVF these days,¡± pointed out her host. ¡°It''s not as awful as it used to be. My cousin had her son by IVF. She wasn''t overjoyed by the process, but she has a son now. A son she wouldn¡¯t have had otherwise.¡±


    ¡°I know, and we will do it if that¡¯s what it takes, but I''m not ready to give up on the natural way yet.¡± She smiled. ¡°I remember my mother taking me to Kenlinton once. She took me to a house in this small back street, pointed up to a window on the first floor and told me that that was where I was conceived. That was where I began. I want to be able to do the same for my child one day. What am I supposed to do, show him a test tube and tell him that he began in there?¡±


    ¡°You could show him the place where you and Tim first met. That would be where he first began, in a very real sense.¡±


    ¡°That would be the end of the pier in Southend. The pier doesn¡¯t exist any more. The sea rose and swallowed it up.¡±


    Samantha nodded. So many places lost to rising sea levels. ¡°Sometimes it just takes time. Jin and I were trying for three years before we were blessed with Lily. Maybe if you just keep trying...¡±


    ¡°And trying is certainly fun!¡± Both women laughed their agreement. ¡°Do you still see Jin at all?¡±


    ¡°No. He''s got a new life in Japan now. He doesn''t seem to miss anything here.¡± She glanced over at her daughter, still flicking through channels in search of something worth watching. ¡°Not even me and Lily.¡±


    ¡°He must still keep in touch with Lily, surely. No matter what differences the two of you had.¡±


    Samantha shook her head. ¡°It''s been over three years since he last saw her.¡±


    ¡°But how can he not want to be a part of her life? She''s so beautiful.¡±


    ¡°He doesn''t think she''s his. No matter how many times I deny it he still thinks I cheated on him. It''s true Jerry made a pass at me once, but I turned him down. We were just work colleagues, and now he¡¯s not even that.¡±


    ¡°You could have gotten one of those DNA tests...¡±


    ¡°If he needs a DNA test before he''ll acknowledge his daughter then I want nothing to do with him. Even if I had cheated on him, she¡¯d still be my daughter. If he loved me, that would be enough.¡± She got up and walked across the room. ¡°He married again, you know. Some traditional Japanese woman from an old family, not a westernized half breed like me.¡±


    ¡°Surely you can''t think that was a factor. He must have loved you once. He knew your background when he married you.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, I¡¯ve got no doubt that he loved me then. Then Jerry happened, though. Jin was so jealous, so suspicious. Looking back, maybe I did spend too much time with him...¡±


    ¡°He was your work colleague. You had that big project you were working on together. And even if you hadn''t, you''re allowed to have friends.¡±


    ¡°But you remember what Jerry was like. He was so... touchy. He''d be talking to someone and he¡¯d reach out to touch their hand or their arm. Not just me, everyone he was talking to, but he was me whose hand jin saw him touching. I never thought anything of it at the time...¡±


    ¡°Why would it? Some people are like that. There''s nothing wrong with it.¡±


    ¡°I know, but looking back, I can see how it must have looked to Jin.¡±


    ¡°He was needy and insecure. That''s on him, not you. You know what you need to do, right?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Get back out there. Fine someone else.¡±


    Samantha laughed. ¡°Because the world is full of handsome young men looking for a forty year old woman with a six year old daughter.¡±


    ¡°You said Jerry made a pass at you.¡±


    ¡°He just wanted a one night stand, not a commitment.¡±


    ¡°Sammy! Take a look in a mirror for Pete¡¯s sake. You''re still good looking. You''re great looking!¡± She gestured at her figure. Slender but sticking out in all the right places. ¡°Your Japanese eyes make you look exotic. I''m five years younger than you and I would sacrifice a goat to a pagan God to look as good as you. You put yourself out there and they''re going to be lining up round the block to take you out.¡±


    ¡°Oh I¡¯m sure I could get a few dates. We''d get on, have fun, have some great sex, and then would come that wonderful day when he finds out I have a daughter.¡±


    ¡°You make her sound like some kind of horrible disease.¡± Lily looked around at them and Connie realised she''d been speaking too loud. ¡°How you doing, sweetie?¡± she said. The girl smiled back, then returned her attention to the television.


    ¡°You know what I mean,¡± said Sam. ¡°Some men won''t devote time and energy to raising another man''s child. Others see them as nothing more than an impediment to our sex life, and there¡¯s always the worry that those guys who say they aren¡¯t bothered by her might, actually, be more interested in her than me.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re just looking for excuses to hide away at home. You''d rather stay here and feel sorry for yourself than go out and have fun. Look, forget about looking for a new partner for the time being. Just have fun. Have a few one night stands. Who knows? One of them might turn out to be the one.¡± She smiled at her, and Sam couldn''t help but smile back. ¡°If I were still single, I¡¯d take you to a club myself to pick up a couple of guys. There''s this girl I know at work, though. Lost her husband a couple of years ago. You could go with her. Shall I give her a call?¡±


    ¡°Mummy!¡± called out Lily to Samantha¡¯s relief. ¡°They''ve got the moon wrong!¡±


    The strange comment made the two women look up curiously. She''d found a cartoon that seemed to involve cute looking puppies fighting evil to save the world. Occasionally the view shifted to show the moon in the sky. A crude, cartoon moon that looked nothing like the real one. ¡°It¡¯s just a cartoon, sweetie.¡± Samantha called back. ¡°It''s not meant to be accurate.¡± She turned back to Connie. ¡°Talking puppies and flying lizards that shoot fire from their mouths and it¡¯s the moon she finds unrealistic.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what comes from being the daughter of a moon expert,¡± replied her guest with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ve seen her bedroom, remember. A moon desk lamp, moon bedsheets. A moon map poster... whatever happened to fairies and princesses?¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°She''s just not interested. I try not to bring my work home with me, but...¡± Her eyes flicked guiltily to the stack of space telescope photos she¡¯d left lying on the spare armchair. She got up, strode over and gathered them up, opening a desk drawer to tuck them away out of sight. ¡°I keep trying to get her interested in normal girl things. She finds them childish.¡± She sighed with disbelief. ¡°Six years old and she finds them childish!¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess we know what she''s going to be when she grows up.¡± Connie glanced over at the girl again, then sat up straight in her chair in surprise. She got up and walked over to her. ¡°May I?¡± she asked, holding her hand out for the remote control. Lily stared at her, then handed it across.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Sam.


    ¡°She was on a news channel just now. There was a headline. Dammit, what channel is the news on? I''m used to the satellite channels.¡±


    ¡°Just try the BBC. Channel 101.¡±


    Connie pressed the numbers on the keypad and the screen changed to show a man in a television studio. There was a big headline at the bottom of the screen. BREAKING NEWS. SATELLITE CHAOS. ¡°...still unknown,¡± the reporter was saying, ¡°but all satellite services seem to have been affected. Satellite television channels all over the world are off the air. Weather forecasting services have been crippled and the GPS service is unavailable, leading to ships and aircraft going off course all over the world. An Air India Boeing Dreamjet was forced to ditch in the South Atlantic when it lost its way to Singapore and ran out of fuel, and two members of the US navy''s Pacific carrier group, the USS Fitzgerald and the USS Oklahoma, ran aground near the Solomon islands. Ships of the Chinese navy are assisting with the recovery operation. The failure of the GPS network has also affected the world¡¯s economy as financial transactions, which rely on timing signals to avoid fraud and insider  trading, failed, and power grids are also affected, resulting in blackouts in many areas...¡±


    ¡°What the hell?¡± said Connie, staring as the commentator continued with his list of incidents and disasters. ¡°What the hell happened?¡±


    ¡°Something did something to the satellites,¡± said Samantha, equally shocked. ¡°All the satellites. Shit! Copernicus!¡±


    She pulled her phone from her pocket and made a call. A message popped up on the screen. ¡®Satellite service unavailable. Attempting to connect using land lines. Please be patient.¡¯ She cursed and stared at the screen. ¡°We''ve got a satellite orbiting the moon,¡± she explained. ¡°Doing science stuff. It''s my whole career! If anything''s happened to it...¡±


    The phone started ringing and she tapped her feet impatiently until it was answered. ¡°John Paul. I just saw the news on the telly, about the satellites. Please tell me Copernicus is okay.¡± She stared vacantly at the wall while she listened to a voice on the other end of the phone. Then Connie saw her sagging in relief. ¡°Thank God!¡± There was another long pause. ¡°Thank God!¡± she said again. ¡°What happened? Does anyone know?¡±


    Connie watched the television while Samantha spoke to her work colleague. The commentator was talking to a science guy of some kind now, and the science guy was explaining all the things that satellites did these days and what it meant for the world when they all started going wrong. Some satellites were still working normally, it turned out. Satellites that had been in high orbits and that had been over the day side of the earth the previous day. He thought that some kind of space radiation might have been responsible, caused by the collision of two black holes perhaps, and that the satellites that had survived had been protected by the earth itself. He didn''t sound convinced, though, and admitted that more time would be needed before they could figure out what had happened.


    Sam finished her call and put the phone back in her pocket. ¡°My satellite¡¯s okay,¡± she said, visibly relieved. ¡°The guys in the office didn''t know anything had happened either until they turned on the telly. Copernicus is still circling the moon, doing its stuff, just like nothing happened.¡±


    ¡°So what did happen?¡±


    ¡°Nobody seems to know. I assume the guys at ESA are working on it. The Chinese too. Someone from the ESA has already asked for all our Copernicus data from yesterday. They think it might hold a clue of some kind.¡±


    Connie told her what the science guy on the television had just said, and Sam looked sceptical. "Copernicus is in a polar lunar orbit,¡± she said. ¡°It and satellites over Earth¡¯s day side wouldn''t have been protected from the same thing. They did have to make a very minor course correction, they said. Copernicus wasn¡¯t quite where it was supposed to be, They¡¯ve got no idea why.¡±


    ¡°But if your people operate a satellite, they¡¯ll be among the first people to be told when they find out, right?¡±


    ¡°Probably, yes. They may even know already.¡±


    She turned on her phone again and called a different number while Connie watched the television avidly. The commentator had reached the point where he was saying the same things over and over again, but there was always the chance that some new information might come in. She watched and listened, therefore, while Lily, forgotten by them both, picked up her tablet and began to play a game on it.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Neil Arndale stared at the computer screen mounted on the wall, where a graphic was showing all the active satellites currently orbiting the earth. ¡°Well, so far as we can tell, they''re all still operating normally,¡± he said into the phone he was holding next to his ear. ¡°They''re all in the wrong place and pointing in the wrong directions, but they''re all working normally. It''s as if something scooped them up and scattered them all across the sky.¡±


    ¡°What could do that?¡± asked Samantha from her London apartment. ¡°Could someone have hacked them and told them to fire their thrusters randomly? Could this be a terrorist attack?¡±


    ¡°Nina Doyle says they''re working on it.¡± She was Assistant Director of Science at the European Space Agency and their go-to person for anything relating to space based astronomy. ¡°She says they''re collaborating with the cyber security guys. They took all our Copernicus data...¡±


    ¡°Yes, John Paul told me. Have you seen the data? Did you see anything?¡±


    ¡°There was some signal degradation between eight and ten am yesterday, as if something was interfering with the signal.¡±


    ¡°Water in the atmosphere?¡±


    ¡°Possibly, but it varied in a strange way, not like a raincloud passing across the satellite dish. Charlie¡¯s looking at it and scratching his head a lot. He says he''s never seen anything like it. Look, as soon as we know anything, we¡¯ll let you know. Okay?¡±


    ¡°Okay. Thanks, Neil. See you Monday.¡±


    ¡°Monday.¡±


    Neil cut the connection, then looked back at the computer screen. ¡°What the hell happened?¡± he said to himself. It was as if space around Earth was a still pool of water in which tiny objects had been left floating in precisely calculated places, and then someone had stirred the water with a stick. What could do that? He went over to the window and stared out across the university grounds. Everything looked normal. Students in their black robes were chatting as they strolled along the pathways to their next lecture and, further away, the city of Bristol was bustling with traffic and pedestrians the way it always did. Nobody out there had any bigger worries than the loss of their satellite television. That would change, though, as the price of food began to go up.


    ¡°I think it was a black hole,¡± said Josh, one of the interns helping out in the astronomy department as part of his masters degree. ¡°About ten to the sixteenth tons, left behind by the big bang. It passed by the earth, about thirty thousand kilometres out, and its gravity scattered all the satellites.¡± His eyes were wide with shock as he said it. Small asteroids, between armchair and house sized, passed by the earth now and then, and it was considered a close approach if they passed by closer than the moon. An object as massive as Josh suggested, passing that close, was a one in a billion year event, even if it had been an ordinary asteroid. If it had hit the earth, it would have totally sterilized it. The intern was visibly disturbed by the magnitude of what he was suggesting.


    ¡°It wasn''t a black hole,¡± replied Neil. ¡°It would have raised tides. They''ve got sensors in all the oceans of the world measuring sea levels, because of global warming, and they¡¯ve said nothing.¡±


    ¡°Has anyone asked them? They probably store up the data and only look at it once a month or so. Maybe nobody''s asked them. Or maybe someone has asked them and they''re still looking at the data.¡±


    ¡°Something that big, passing by that close, you wouldn¡¯t need ocean sensors,¡± said Sandra Willoughby, looking up from where she was kneeling in front of a computer the size of a chest of drawers. The resident computer expert had taken the front panel off and had her hands deep in the tangle of wires and circuit boards as she struggled to insert a new hundred teraflop processor. ¡°If it came that close, the tides would have been as high as normal lunar tides. Someone would have noticed that the tide was in when it was supposed to be out.¡±


    ¡°Okay, maybe it didn''t come that close. It wouldn¡¯t have had to to affect satellites. And even if it did, it only happened yesterday. Maybe the tides were all over the place and it hasn''t made the headlines yet.¡±


    ¡°The Severn estuary is just four miles away, that way.¡± said the young redhead, pointing. ¡°Why don''t you pop over there and ask people what the tide was doing yesterday?¡±


    ¡°A black hole doesn''t fit,¡± said Neil. ¡°If it had been a black hole, it would have passed by some of the satellites close enough to throw them clear out of the solar system. Look at the pattern.¡± He waved a hand at the wall mounted screen. ¡°Every satellite on this side of the planet is out of position, but they''re all still orbiting the earth, and not very far from where they''re supposed to be. They all have thrusters, to make course corrections and de-orbit them when they come to the end of their lives. It''ll probably be possible to put them all back to where they''re supposed to be. If it had been a black hole, some of them would be out past the moon by now.¡±


    ¡°Something more diffuse, then,¡± said Josh. ¡°Not one object but a cluster of them.¡±


    ¡°It would have to have had a huge mass. A million million tons at least. More likely a million times greater still. It would have covered half the sky. Thousands of asteroid size objects passing by the earth, they''d have been seen.¡±


    ¡°Not if they were very dark. If they were covered with a layer of organic materials. Tres-2B reflects less than one percent of the light that falls on it.¡±


    ¡°They would still block out the light of objects behind them. Kepler-2 was looking that way. It would have seen dips in starlight. It was designed precisely to look for them.¡±


    ¡°The signal degradation! The degradation of the Copercicus data! Could that have been caused by... No. The signal would have been blocked intermittently, not just interfered with. You know, the signal degradation might just be a coincidence. A problem with the receiver. A bird sitting on the antenna or something. It might have nothing to do with the stray satellites.¡±


    ¡°A hell of a coincidence that it happens just at the same time. And if it was a bird it would be happening all the time.¡±


    ¡°I just used that as an example. Something terrestrial. Some amateur radio hack transmitting in the gigahertz range for some reason, maybe. And coincidences happen. It would be a lot stranger if they never happened. No, I think it was a swarm of dark objects. Their collective gravity threw the satellites around. I think the proof might be in the Kepler data, like you said. Sitting on a hard drive somewhere, waiting for someone to analyse it. It takes months, even years, before it gets analysed. Some of the data from the first Kepler hasn''t been looked at yet.¡±


    Neil nodded. It was possible, he supposed. Recent advances in astronomy had revealed things bizarre beyond imagination. Planets spinning so fast they should have flown apart. Arcs of electricity jumping between a planet and its moons. Even a planet the size of the earth that, if the data was to be believed, seemed to have a hole running all the way through it like a necklace bead. A cluster of dark asteroids was positively mundane in comparison.


    ¡°We have to wait for the data to come in,¡± he said. ¡°You''re right, the answer might be sitting on a hard drive somewhere. A week from now we might know more, or we might not. In the meantime we¡¯ve got work to do. Have you completed the ring analysis yet?¡±


    Josh shook his head, leaving the room on his way back to his own rooms, and the others returned to their work.

 Chapter Four

    ¡°The station¡¯s good,¡± said Susan Kendall. ¡°No damage, except a few bits of equipment and glassware that broke when they fell over. Bao''s still fuming over his new space alloys, but at least he''s still got most of his experiments.¡±


    Paul and Lauren exchanged a glance at the frustrated tone of her voice. She''d lost most of her own experiments during the recent excitement. ¡°Thanks,¡± said the commander. ¡°The displays all say the same thing, but it was good to have it confirmed visually." She turned to Paul. "How''s ROMIS?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Seems okay. Diagnostics are all green.¡±


    ¡°Then let''s check the station exterior. The solar panels, the radiator fins, the whipple shield. Everything. If that all checks out as well, we can get back to normal operations.¡±


    ¡°We can get back to normal operations when we¡¯ve been refuelled,¡± said Paul. ¡°Having dry tanks makes me nervous. If we see something big bearing down on us, we can¡¯t get out of its way.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s still the laser,¡± pointed out Susan.


    ¡°If we have enough warning. And even the laser won''t help if the object''s more than the size of a golf ball.¡±


    ¡°Something that big, radar would have spotted it long ago.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s all in different orbits now. How long ¡®till they¡¯ve got it all tracked down again?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Heide¡¯s tool bag could be whizzing towards us right now.¡±


    Lauren chuckled. The twelve kilogramme tool bag had been dropped by an astronaut aboard the International Space Station during a spacewalk several decades before and was still orbiting the earth. ¡°I wish it was,¡± she said. ¡°We could use another grease gun.¡± She glanced at the radar display. ¡°No sign of it, or anything else,¡± she said.


    ¡°The shield would be able to handle something that big, wouldn''t it?¡± asked Susan. Those parts of the space station facing forward in its orbit around the earth were covered with layers of protective material, named after its inventor, the American astronomer Fred Whipple. It was designed to make an impacting object explode into tiny fragments before they could reach the main skin of the space station, rendering them harmless, but it was very much a last resort for when everything else failed. Even if it suffered an impact that it prevented from harming the station, both the crew and the ground controllers would consider it a failure and there would be hell to pay for whoever had allowed the object through in the first place.


    ¡°If it didn''t, we¡¯d be the first to know,¡± replied Paul, referring to the fact that the command module was located in the forward part of the space station.


    Susan grinned nervously. Even despite all the recent advances in safety, space travel was still inherently dangerous. Like all the rest of them, Susan had accepted the risks when she applied to join the astronaut program, but this was a  new risk that no-one had taken into account and she was suddenly reminded of all the other risks she routinely faced every day.


    ¡°Have you found Lockyer yet?¡± she asked. The Lockyer platform was a small module that had been floating alongside the space station, connected only by a fibre optic data cable. It had been running those experiments so delicate that the vibrations caused by people moving around would have ruined them. The data cable had snapped during the emergency course correction, though, and the platform had drifted away.


    Lauren nodded. ¡°I''m afraid it¡¯s in a degrading orbit, brushing the atmosphere. They''re looking at whether they can get the Mule to it and drag it back to us before it falls back to Earth.¡±


    ¡°How long have we got?¡±


    ¡°A couple of days maybe. Atmospheric friction is fierce that far down.¡±


    ¡°They have to save it! I¡¯ll lose six months work if it goes down!¡±


    ¡°They have other priorities I''m afraid. There¡¯re plenty of satellites that are approaching the end of their lives, almost out of propellant. They all need the Mule to get them back into their proper orbits and still leave them with enough fuel to de-orbit when they reach the end of their lives. Since Lockyer is coming down anyway...¡±


    ¡°But we don''t want it coming down!¡±


    ¡°You yourself told me how delicate your helium crystals are. The vibrations caused by being accelerated back up onto a higher orbit...¡±


    ¡°If just a few survive I can carry on with my work. It took me six months to grow them. I was almost ready to begin some serious work on them. Then this happens!¡±


    ¡°They say they may be able to get the mule to it. Give it a nudge on its way between one satellite and another. It depends on which satellites they want to save the most.¡±


    ¡°Can I speak to them? Tell them how important it is?¡±


    ¡°I''ve already had that conversation with them. I told them...¡±


    ¡°I''d like to talk to them myself. I doubt you had the passion that I have. They probably told you no and you just said oh okay and that was that. I¡¯d like to tell them just how important it is.¡±


    Lauren''s eyes flashed with anger. ¡°As I said, I''ve already had that conversation and I did tell them how important it is. If they can save it, they will and if they can''t they can''t and we just have to accept it. Bao has an experiment on Lockyer as well. If he can accept the loss, so can you.¡±


    ¡°Bao has plenty of other experiments. Everything I have is on Lockyer!¡±


    ¡°You yourself said that most of his work has been ruined.¡±


    ¡°But he still has all his equipment! He can run his experiments again!¡±


    ¡°I know how frustrating it must be for you, but I''ve done everything I can. We''re lucky to still be alive. We could have lost the whole space station. And you''ve still got three months worth of results. You¡¯ll just have to be satisfied with that.¡±


    Susan glared at her, then turned and pushed her way through the air towards the hatch into the next module with an angry kick of her feet. If it had had a normal door, she would have slammed it on the way out.


    ¡°I think she''s forgotten that she''s the one who insisted on an independent platform in the first place,¡± said Paul with an amused smile. ¡°She was offered a spot in the Vulcan module and she turned it down. Kicked up such a fuss that they coughed up another hundred million for Lockyer. Remember how pleased she was when they told her? I bet she''s wishing she¡¯d been a bit less pushy now.¡±


    ¡°Haven''t you got a robot to prep?¡± snapped the commander.


    Paul grinned as he moved over to the ROMIS workstation.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Susan kicked her way angrily through node five, past the entrances to the two habitation modules and through the hatch into the recreation and exercise module. She strapped herself into the rowing machine and began pedalling furiously in an attempt to burn off her frustration in hard physical exercise. Jayesh Gudka, their resident doctor, looked up from the tablet on which he was updating the crew''s medical records and watched with sympathy. ¡°No joy?¡± he said.


    ¡°They''re more concerned with getting the sports channels back on the air than they are with scientific research that might change the world.¡± She pedalled faster, grimacing with anger. ¡°I have nothing to do up here now. I''m basically a passenger, like one of those millionaires in the space hotel. I''ve got nothing to do but stare out the window at the view.¡±


    ¡°I expect they''ll find plenty of things for you to do. You''re one of only three of us qualified for EVA and you¡¯re an experienced space mechanic. You won''t have much free time, I can promise you.¡± He took a suck from the tube of coffee he''d just made for himself.


    "Extra vehicular activity," said Susan, simmering. "Sounds so exotic, doesn''t it? Until you''re out there, floating in empty space. Nothing but a few thin layers of fabric between you and hard vacuum. Extra vehicular anxiety more like. And it''s not as if you''re doing anything that requires any great talent or skill. Mostly you''re just tightening bolts and spraying sealant like a common grunt, and while I''m doing that my helium crystals will be burning up. Probably the only critical phase helium crystals in the universe. The whole god damned universe!¡±


    ¡°You believe in God, do you not? So you must believe that it¡¯s happening for a reason.¡±


    ¡°It''s happening because those fat heads in Beijing are more concerned with money than with pure research. If Bao''s work was in Lockyer, it would be back here already.¡± The Chinese scientist already had several big companies interested in his exotic alloys, and the European Space Agency, who would jointly own the patents along with the Chinese National Space Administration, were all set to make a huge profit.


    ¡°If that were true, they would never have funded Lockyer in the first place. They must have a lot of faith in your research, and that means they''ll give you another chance. Either another Lockyer or space on the station itself. You''ve had a setback, yes, but consider how close we just came to losing our lives. No doubt your God would want you to count your blessings.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me what God would want. How would a Hindu know anything about God?¡±


    ¡°We have Gods too,¡± the Indian pointed out.


    ¡°Yes, hundreds of them, and none of them real.¡±


    ¡°Actually there are thirty three million of them, but I share your opinion regarding their existence. I am a scientist. So are you, for that matter.¡±


    Susan stopped pedalling and glared at him. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°How long ago was the solar system formed?¡±


    ¡°You want me to say six thousand years, right? And then you¡¯ll bombard me with a ton of scientific evidence saying how old it really is. You people cannot begin to understand the true meaning of faith.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Are you saying that you actually believe the solar system is only six thousand years old?¡±


    ¡°I don''t want to discuss my faith with you.¡± She began pedalling again. Patches of dark sweat began to appear under her arms.


    ¡°I thought Christians were supposed to convert heathens like me to your faith.¡±


    ¡°I know a lost cause when I see one. You''ll know how wrong you are when you¡¯re dead.¡±


    ¡°When I''m burning in Hell for the crime of not believing what you believe?¡±


    Susan didn''t reply, though. She flashed him one last angry look with her steely grey eyes, then began pedalling harder. Jayesh watched her for a moment or two longer, then turned back to his tablet.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    The Remote Operated Maintenance and InSpection unit, or ROMIS as it was better known, was a robot tele-operated by either one or two members of the space station crew, depending on the complexity of the task that it was being asked to undertake. It had four limbs, all of which ended with a dexterous hand that could do pretty much anything that a human hand could do. It usually used two hands to keep a firm grip on the space station while using the others to perform the job it had been sent out to do. At the moment, though, it was just inspecting the station, looking for damage, and that was a simple enough task that Paul usually did it by himself.


    With the virtual display goggles over his eyes and the data gloves transferring every movement of his hands and fingers to the robot, it almost felt to Paul as if he was actually out there. The gloves had advanced haptic feedback, so that it even felt as though he was touching the surfaces with his real hands. He could feel the coldness and hardness of the steel handholds he was using to move his way along the outside of the farm module. He could feel them vibrating ever so slightly as the pumps moved water and nutrients among the crops being grown inside, and every now and then came the coarser vibration as the hydroponic beds were moved, bringing each in turn to the front where Benny Svanberg, the European shuttle pilot who acted as their resident farmer while aboard the space station, could inspect them, treat them for various conditions as necessary and, in the fullness of time, harvest them.


    Everything looked good on the outside of the module, Paul was pleased to see. One new pit, a centimetre wide and about half that deep, had appeared in the outer hull; the result of a collision with a small piece of space junk. It might even have been a natural micro meteorite, a tiny piece of sand left behind by a comet. Even today, not all the junk circling the earth was man made. Whatever had made it, though, it wasn''t deep enough to be of concern and so he just made a note of it and moved on.


    That completed his inspection of the inhabited modules. The solar panels were next. Having an area of over ten thousand square metres, they were by far the most prone to damage, but at the same time they were the most resilient. An impact with one of the pressurised modules severe enough to cause an air leak was a problem that had to be dealt with as a matter of urgency, but the solar panels were designed so that they could be riddled with holes and still deliver enough power for the station to function. A three percent loss of power, therefore, meant that something out of the ordinary had happened the day before, and so the systems manager was alert for whatever he might find.


    The ROMIS made its way along the support superstructure, moving hand over hand like a gibbon swinging through the branches of a forest. Paul had been using the robot for months now, and had practiced many times down on earth before coming up to the station, and he was able to move with considerable speed. Lauren tended to frown at this kind of haste. The robot had a small rocket pack that would allow Paul to guide it back to the station if he missed a handheld and sent it sailing off into space, but reaction mass was expensive to replace and he would find himself facing a severe dressing down from the commander if he wasted any.


    He reached the solar panels without mishap, though, and paused to give them a looking over from a distance before moving closer. From this distance they looked pristine, as if they had been assembled only yesterday. They gleamed like gold in the light of the sun, like a vast sheet of the precious metal, so huge that they seemed to form the surface of a planet, as if he could walk on them and never reach the horizon.


    Unable to resist the temptation, Paul moved the robot through the gap between the panels and the Heineman module, the module that served as the station''s machine shop. Then, as he had done a hundred times before, he turned the robot''s head so that its cameras were facing down, towards the earth. He could see it any time he wanted through one of the station''s many viewing ports, of course, but they were small. Just little round portholes no more than fifteen centimetres across. The images displayed through the virtual reality goggles, though, transmitted by the robot''s cameras, allowed him to see a wide panorama as though he were out there himself, seeing it with his own eyes.


    They were currently over South America, he saw. Irregular patches of what remained of the Amazonian rain forest, interspersed with farmland and the light brown wastelands of mines and oilfields, curved away towards the horizon in all directions. Tributaries of the river Amazon snaked their way through it, shining like silver in the sun, and the whole was partially obscured by the brilliant, almost blindingly bright white of clouds, curving and coiling like the brushstrokes of a titanic artist. There was a storm system towards the east, he saw, coming into view as the space station flew towards it in its orbit. Someone down there was getting wet.


    The view was awesome, breathtaking! A man could stand there and watch for hour after hour, hypnotised by it. Even the view through the station portholes was captivating, to the point that standing orders required that anyone seen looking through a porthole for more than five minutes at a time was gently urged to stop. Nobody wanted another Sam Crystal, who had become so addicted to the view that he''d repeatedly neglected his duties and still craved it fifteen years after he''d returned to earth. Paul had heard that he''d taken up mountain climbing, that being the closest he could come to recreating the experience.


    Aware that others might be sharing his view through the robot¡¯s cameras, therefore, Paul pulled himself away from the vista and returned his attention to his reason for being out there (as he thought of it. The sensation of actually being there was so real!). He took the robot back through the gap to the sunlit side of the solar panels and then along the guide rails that had been provided for it.


    He began to see small holes in the thin, golden material almost immediately. Each one made by a tiny fleck of material drifting through space. Some were natural. A speck of dust left behind by a passing asteroid or comet, or blasted off the surface of the moon by one of the impacts it had suffered over the aeons, but the majority were man made. Flakes of paint from a rocket booster. Tiny crystals of frozen propellant or even, unbelievably, the debris from satellites that had been deliberately destroyed in earth orbit, an act that, today, would result in the nation responsible being subject to worldwide condemnation and heavy fines.


    As he went, Paul compared the image he was seeing with the record he''d made the last time, putting the two images side by side on his display so that he could make a direct comparison. As always, the new image contained new signs of damage which the computer highlighted, numbering them and using them to calculate the amount of litter the space station had encountered since the last survey. As always since the space debris directives has been introduced, the amount had lessened as drag from the earth¡¯s atmosphere pulled them down and burned them up. Further up, higher above the atmosphere, solar radiation was doing the job, slowly pushing the tiny particles up and away until they left orbit and drifted away into their own orbits around the sun. It would take a long time yet, but nature was gradually sweeping away the mess that mankind had made in the twentieth century and the first few decades of this one.


    Music played in Paul''s ears as he continued the inspection. It was a long job, and some people would have found it boring, but he rather enjoyed it. The robot had originally been intended to undertake the task automatically, using its own on board artificial intelligence, but after it had lost its grip for the fifteenth time and burned up precious propellant returning to the station Lauren had decreed that a human take over. Paul had protested at first, but had soon found the task rather restful and soothing. A new update for the automatic system was supposed to be ready sometime soon, and when it was Paul would be expected to give up the job, but he thought he¡¯d probably keep on doing it, if time allowed.


    He hummed along to the music as he took the robot outwards along strut a1, back along a2 and out again along a3, working his way along the length of the immense structure. When he reached the end he worked his way back, outwards along strut b22, back along b21 until he was back alongside the Heineman module. It took about an hour, and then there were the other three sails to go.


    He was halfway along the second sail when he stiffened in his seat, suddenly alert with surprise. ¡°What the hell...¡± he said under his breath.


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Lauren. She touched an icon on the screen to bring up an image of what he was seeing. He was looking at a support girder, one of the thick ones. One of the sturdy beams of aluminium that gave the solar panel array most of its structural strength. There was a hole in it. Not quite circular and at a strange angle, running through the bar of metal at an angle of about thirty degrees and offset from the centre. It looked machined, a deliberate part of the design, and her first thought was that it must have been an attachment point for something that had been left from the final design, perhaps to save weight. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked again. ¡°What''s wrong?¡±


    ¡°That hole,¡± said Paul. ¡°It''s not supposed to be there. It wasn''t there last time.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Just a minute.¡± There was a pause as Paul adjusted the image of that part of the structure taken during the last inspection, the week before. Lauren watched as he put both images side by side on the screen. "You''re right,  she said. There was no hole in the older image. ¡°How did that happen?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I don''t know.¡± He moved the robot to examine the hole from another angle. A number of power cables ran along the underside of the strut, they saw, and those of them in line with the hole had gaps in them precisely corresponding with it, as if all matter in a long cylinder had been neatly cut out and removed. ¡°You said that the power from the solar cells fell by three percent yesterday, and that the power fell in five discrete steps,¡± he said. ¡°I think we just found one of the steps.¡±


    ¡°Get closer,¡± said Lauren. ¡°Get a closer look.¡±


    Paul did so and the hole grew on the screen. The image flickered as he magnified it further, placing an array of lenses in front of one of the cameras. The picture changed from a binocular, three dimensional view to a flat microscope image showing only one side of the hole. The original surface of the strut had machine marks and scratches made during its manufacture, they saw, but the inner surface of the hole was perfect, shining in reflected earthlight like a mirror and marred only by some faint striations that precisely followed the line of the hole.


    ¡°That wasn''t made by any normal piece of space debris,¡± said Paul, his voice soft with awe. ¡°I''ve seen holes like that made by a mechanical punch. One of the ones that applies tons of pressure very quickly. The object has to be braced in place, held immobile, or the punch just pushes it away or bends it.¡±


    ¡°A very dense object, moving very fast,¡± said Lauren, her eyes fixed to the image. ¡°Iron, perhaps, travelling at a good fraction of the speed of light? Maybe a small, iron meteorite passed too close to a black hole and was torn apart. The fragments scattered blindingly fast across the universe. It might have been travelling for millions of years before passing through the solar system."


    ¡°It wouldn''t have to be that dense if it was moving fast enough,¡± said Paul, though. He removed his goggles to look at the commander. ¡°A piece of foam would do that if it was moving fast enough. You think it¡¯s connected with the satellite disruption?¡±


    ¡°It must have happened at around the same time, that can''t be a coincidence. Remember we thought it might have been caused by a massive object passing close by the earth.¡± She looked back at the hole displayed on the screen. ¡°Bao thought it might have been a cluster of mini black holes. What if he''s right? What if one of them made that hole?¡±


    ¡°This wasn''t caused by a black hole,¡± said Paul, though. ¡°The hole it made would have been perfectly circular. This was caused by a solid object of some kind. Maybe something exotic. Super dense, super massive. Neutronium? Something like that?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know if it¡¯s stable at normal pressures. Take it out from the heart of a neutron star and it might expand back into normal matter. Maybe it¡¯s strange matter or something like that. Maybe something we''ve never imagined. Get the others in here. We''ve got to show them this.¡±


    ¡°And then we''ve got to examine the rest of the solar panels. There were five discrete drops in power, remember? So that probably means four more severed cables, plus a lot more impacts that did less serious damage. We might have suffered up to twenty impacts. Maybe more. Shit! If even one had hit one of the living modules...¡±


    ¡°They have a much smaller area. The solar panels are huge.¡± The narrowness of their escape left her wide eyed and trembling, but there was excitement as well. If they were right, they''d made an awesome discovery. Found evidence of something nobody had ever dreamed possible. Until now they''d just been a typical crew of astronauts whose names would have been lost among hundreds of others, but now they would be remembered. People would talk about them for centuries to come.


    ¡°We need to tell the guys on the ground as well,¡± pointed out Paul. ¡°They''ll want to know about this straight away.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of that,¡± said Lauren. ¡°You get the others in here. Tell them we''ve discovered something incredible.¡±


    Paul nodded and touched an icon on his touchscreen to activate the intercom while the commander opened the communications link to Canberra.

 Chapter Five

    Eddie Nash stood in the doorway while he shook the rain from his coat. Filthy morning! he thought. He hated this time of year. Everything cold and damp and depressing. Still, soon be Christmas. He chuckled at the thought. These days, people began saying soon be Christmas around the end of august.


    He entered, allowed the door to close behind him and crossed the foyer to the desk where the receptionist signed him in with a happy smile. ¡°Welcome back, Professor Nash.¡± How was the conference?¡±


    ¡°Had a great time, Betty, thanks. How was your sister''s wedding?¡±


    ¡°It was lovely! Everyone was crying, even my idiot brother. When are you going to tie the knot, Professor? You and Teresa?¡±


    ¡°We broke up, I''m afraid.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Why?¡± The girl looked distraught, as if he''d said he was dying of cancer.


    ¡°She found out about my three other girlfriends.¡±


    He didn¡¯t want to discuss his personal problems and hoped the joke would throw her off, which it did. She laughed, half in delight, half in shock, her hands over her mouth as if she half believed it might have been true. Eddie took the opportunity to slip away through the doors into the main ground floor corridor before she could quiz him again. As the door swung closed behind him he glanced back to see that she''d turned back to her computer and was staring intently at the screen, tapping at the old style keyboard now and again. Eddie had no idea what receptionists did on their computers, but they all seemed to have one wherever in the world he went. Probably updating her CV, he thought. Human receptionists were getting scarce. It was probably only a matter of time before Cambridge University replaced them all with automatic systems, just like everywhere else.


    The Bragg building, the newest addition to the Cavendish Laboratories, was all steel and glass on the southern side, designed to let the sun shine in and allow everyone outside to see all the people working inside, although why they would want to was beyond Eddie. If they were expecting to see wild eyed scientists with untidy hair laughing as they threw huge circuit breakers to make electricity jump and arc across towering assemblies of equipment, they would be disappointed. What they would see instead was people sitting at desks tapping at touch screens and occasionally walking around with tablets and clip boards. All the exciting, expensive equipment was tucked away out of sight, to the rear of the building, where it couldn¡¯t be seen by the people of Cambridge passing by in the street outside. The bits that could be seen were basically administration and clerical work.


    Eddie climbed a flight of stairs to the first floor, then followed a corridor to where the modern, stylish decor gave way to functional plastic and wood. People gave him friendly greetings as he passed, which he returned with genuine pleasure. He liked these people. He liked this place, and he was looking forward to being in charge of it, although probably not too soon. Andrew Stirling, his boss, very likely still had a good many years ahead of him yet before he passed the baton to his successor.


    He found the Head of Department in his office, along with his chief assistant Mandy Williams, affectionately known as Mop because of the usual state of her hair, something that she cared about not at all. She was making notes on her tablet as Andrew gave her a list of things he wanted her to find out for him, but they both broke off as Eddie appeared in the doorway.


    ¡°Well, ahoy there, matey!¡± said the Head of Department, grinning as he rose from his chair. ¡°Shiver me timbers and splice the mainbrace! Thought I could smell salt. How''s our jolly Jack Tarr?¡±


    Eddie couldn¡¯t help but grin back. ¡°It wasn''t exactly the Poseidon Adventure,¡± he said. ¡°We stopped to pick up the crew of a container ship. We were a few hours late getting back to Harwich, that¡¯s all. No fuss, no drama.¡±


    ¡°You said you collided with a wind turbine,¡± said Mandy.


    ¡°We slid along it for a bit, scratched a bit of paint off. I may have been a bit, er, overexcited when I made the phone call. I had no idea there were so many worse things happening all around the world.¡±


    ¡°Every time you turn on the telly, they''re talking about something else. Some guy died in Alaska because the rescue helicopter couldn¡¯t find him. Who knows how many other people didn''t get help?¡± She gave Eddie a big hug. ¡°Thank God you''re all right!¡±


    ¡°We got lucky. So, what''s been going on here? Any exciting news?¡±


    ¡°Nothing much,¡± said Andrew. ¡°We can bring you back up to speed later. Tell us about the conference. How was it?¡±


    ¡°Incredible!¡± The grin returned to Eddie''s face. ¡°Everyone was there. Bill Lawry, Raman Singh, Ted Burge... Wally Grout''s lecture on harmonic D-Planes was amazing. I''ve been reading up on the subject for years and it¡¯s always just... I don''t know. It''s like I''m reading Chinese. It just makes no sense to me whatsoever, but the way he explained it... It''s like it actually began to make sense. I was reading some texts on my tablet on the way back and it was like I was reading completely different articles. It''s like he handed me the key. He made something happen in my head, you know what I mean?¡±


    ¡°It''s a talent some people have,¡± said Andrew. ¡°I tried to hire him once, but he was getting offers from every institute large enough to have its own topocosmology department. A guy like that can pick and choose, and it¡¯s no wonder he made the choice he did. I envy you. I''d have given anything to have been there.¡±


    ¡°It''s on the web. I''m surprised you haven''t seen it already.¡±


    ¡°I have, but it¡¯s not the same as actually being there. That¡¯s how the magic happens, the magic you described. Did you manage to get into the Crane lecture? That was the one you really wanted to get into, wasn''t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I got there early enough to get a seat. By the time Crane himself got there people were having to stand along the walls and there were even people in the corridor outside, looking in through the open door. They kept him for nearly three hours afterwards with their questions, including one from a guy who didn¡¯t seem to know the difference between scalars and vectors. I felt a bit sorry for him really. You could feel the whole room tensing up with annoyance. There wasn''t a person there who didn''t have about five degrees, except for this one guy who seemed to have learned everything he knew from the Discovery channel.¡±


    ¡°Probably a groupie, just wanted to talk to the great man. You know, we might finally be getting to the point where scientists are the new pop stars.¡±


    ¡°I don''t think we''re quite there yet. Hey, I had a job offer. Ben Wrexham was there, and he offered me a job.¡±


    ¡°Professor Ben Wrexham?¡± said Andrew. ¡°There''s a name I haven''t heard for a while. I thought he''d retired.¡±


    ¡°He said he''s part of some kind of secret research project. Couldn¡¯t tell me much about it, but he wanted me on it.¡±


    ¡°The Tadcaster Project?¡± said Mandy with a smile.


    Eddie chuckled back. The Tadcaster Project was an urban myth that had grown up over the last couple of decades, concerning an alien spaceship that was supposed to have been found buried in a coal mine back in the twentieth century. The modern successor to the Roswell myth. Every denial issued by the British government only seemed to strengthen the convictions of the conspiracy theorists, though.


    ¡°For all I know,¡± he said. ¡°Seriously though, I''m sure it was a real project, and I¡¯m sure it was pretty big and important. He was totally sincere and he wasn¡¯t trying to pull my leg or anything.¡±


    ¡°He''s supposed to have a wicked sense of humour,¡± said Andrew, though. ¡°There''s a story they tell about him. He worked at CERN for a few years, and he¡¯s said to have convinced a couple of colleagues to help him persuade a fresh faced new assistant that he''d proven the existence of the Star Wars Force. They showed him huge stack of particle collision images and said that one of the tracks was made by the Force particle. He even rigged up some superconducting coils to levitate a magnet and then pretended to be using the Force to lift it.¡±


    ¡°I heard about that.¡± said Eddie. ¡°It all backfired on him a bit, didn''t it?¡±


    ¡°You could say that. The poor kid swallowed it so completely that he got blind drunk later that day and told a bunch of locals. The papers got hold of the story, ran with it... Ben Wrexham ended up in hot water with the administrators for making CERN a laughing stock. They were already under fire from the general public who were scared they''d create a black hole that would swallow up the earth. This kind of publicity was the last thing they needed. Some say that that was why he left CERN a few months later. They decided he was a liability they didn''t need. Didn''t do his career any harm, though. He got a job at Princeton and in less than five years he¡¯d risen to become head of theoretical physics.¡±


    Eddie smiled. ¡°I experienced his sense of humour first hand.¡± He told them the story that Ben Wrexham had told him, the ferry whose final voyage had been entirely uneventful. ¡°I think, if he was trying to pull my leg about this job offer, though, he''d have gone into more detail. Tried to convince me the flying saucer really existed. Maybe I''m just gullible or something, but I think there really is a secret project of some kind and he really wanted me in on it.¡±


    ¡°Would you be interested?¡± asked Andrew, frowning with concern. ¡°If it was real?¡±


    ¡°Interested, yes. Am I going to sign up for it, no. He''s invited me out for an all expenses paid trip to Martinique in a couple of weeks to meet the other members of the team and try to pique my interest a bit more, but they can¡¯t tell me what they''re actually working on unless I actually sign up.¡±


    ¡°Martinique!¡± said Mandy, staring at him enviously. ¡°I always wanted to go there. Are you going?¡±


    ¡°To Martinique? Hell yes! Unless I¡¯m needed here. Think you can spare me for a few days longer, Andy?¡±


    ¡°I think so. You can keep in touch with our results online. There¡¯s actually very little you can do here that you can''t do from a thousand miles away, assuming they get the satellites sorted out.¡±


    ¡°Even if they don''t, the internet''ll still work without them. Slower, but it''ll still work. What else do you know about Ben Wrexham, Andy? Apart from what everyone knows, of course.¡±


    ¡°Used to be really big in the world of strong force interactions. He''s the guy who solved the neutron decay paradox.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that was the subject of his lecture. You said you thought he''d retired.¡±


    ¡°Yes. About ten years ago he quit his job at Princeton and went to work at a much smaller, less well known facility here in England. I forget the name. He still publishes papers now and then, mainly on the subject of nuclear physics, but nothing ground-breaking. He lives mainly on his reputation these days.¡±


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.     ¡°I wonder if other top scientists have done the same thing? That might tell us who else is on his team.¡± On impulse, he turned on his tablet and entered some search parameters into Aristotle. There was a noticeable pause before the results popped up, a sign that the internet was still struggling to cope with the crisis, but then the screen filled up with a list of names. ¡°There¡¯s Ben Wrexham, half way down. Hmm. Karen Karr. Habib Attari. Marumar Yaya. James Buckley.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Your name''s down here.¡±


    ¡°Well, my job is mainly administration now. Most of those people are probably the same.¡±


    Eddie nodded and added some more search parameters to narrow down the list. ¡°No, that took Ben''s name off. I''ll play around with it a bit more when I''ve got some time.¡± He switched the tablet off, rolled it back up into its case and popped it back into his pocket. ¡°If there really were some kind of secret project, something that''s been going for at least fifty years, wouldn''t something have leaked out by now? Someone would have talked, even if it was just to his wife or girlfriend. You can''t keep a secret these days. There would be stories, rumours. Why aren''t there stories?¡±


    ¡°There are stories,¡± pointed out Mandy, smiling. ¡°The Tadcaster Project.¡±


    Eddie stared at her. ¡°You think he actually was pulling my leg? Playing the long game, laying the groundwork for a major prank he''s going to play on me in Martinique? Make me believe they''ve found a flying saucer? But why would he? He doesn''t know me. We''ve never met before. You might play a prank on a work colleague, or someone who¡¯s pissed you off, but why would you go to that kind of effort to fool a complete stranger?¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯ve never met him? You say he gave one of the lectures in Pharmakon. Did you ask a question afterwards? Something that may have annoyed him, made him want revenge?¡±


    ¡°No. The lecture was brilliant. I told him so on the ferry.¡±


    ¡°Well, even if he is playing some kind of prank on you, at least you''re getting a trip to Martinique out of it. Just play along with whatever he tells you, pretend to believe it and enjoy the holiday. That way, you get the last laugh.¡±


    Eddie chuckled. ¡°That''s what I''ll do,¡± he said. ¡°And so, if I''m only going to be here for a couple of weeks you''d better tell me what you''ve been up to while I''ve been away. How¡¯s the cobalt experiment going?¡±


    ¡°Pretty good. We''ve been getting some promising results...¡± The intercom on his desk beeped and he reached over to touch the screen while looking up at his assistant apologetically. ¡°Yes?¡±


    Konstantin Behzinga¡®s face appeared on the screen, dressed in a white coverall complete with a hood pulled tightly over his head. Behind him, two assistant researchers, dressed identically, were staring at a display screen on which text and numbers were rapidly scrolling upwards. Occasionally  one of them would tap the screen of the tablet he was holding in his hands. At the back of the room was a small window against which the rain was lashing furiously. ¡°The run¡¯s going to take seventy two hours,¡± the Russian said in a strong accent. ¡°That''s the best we can do. If you want it done faster, you''ll have to get us a bigger condenser. A model 300 would be nice.¡±


    ¡°Those things cost a hundred thousand each,¡± Andrew replied testily. ¡°We''re working on a budget here. Just do the best you can.¡±


    ¡°But if we had a model 300 condenser we could do the run in half the time...¡±


    ¡°Seventy two hours is fine. You''ll have to learn to cultivate patience, Konstantin.¡±


    ¡°I will try to do that. In the meantime, the bifurcator is out of alignment again. If you are not busy, we could use some help with it. Your magic fingers seem to be the only thing that can fix it.¡±


    Andrew cursed under his breath. ¡°I¡¯ll be right up,¡± he said and cut the connection. ¡°You sure you want this job, Eddie?¡± he said as he rose from his desk. ¡°Everyone constantly coming to you, expecting you to have the answer to all their problems and constantly griping about things you can''t do anything about?¡±


    ¡°I can''t wait,¡± Eddie replied earnestly. ¡°In fact I''m thinking of slipping a little hemlock into your earl grey to speed the day.¡±


    Andrew chuckled. ¡°A few days doing this job and you may regret it. Sometimes, I look back on my days as a humble researcher with aching nostalgia. Talk some sense into him, Mop.¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding? I can¡¯t wait for the day when a man with manners and common courtesy takes over this place. The things I have to put up with...¡±


    ¡°There''s gratitude for you. I take you in, out of the gutter. Clean you up, give you a square meal...¡±


    The woman looked at Eddie, then rose her eyes to the ceiling before walking out the door with infinite dignity, but she looked back once before passing out of sight and her eyes were sparkling with humour.


    ¡°I really don''t know what I''d do without her,¡± Andrew admitted when she''d gone. ¡°Eddie, if there¡¯s one thing you absolutely must do when you take over here, It¡¯s make sure she stays on as your assistant. She''s easily worth ten times what she lets me pay her.¡±


    ¡°I''d already come to that conclusion,¡± admitted Eddie.


    ¡°Good. So, Konstantin Behzinga. Want to come along? I''ll fill you in on what you''ve missed while we¡¯re walking.¡±


    ¡°Let''s go,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Samantha Kumiko was also arriving back at work, at the astronomy department of Bristol University, after having dropped her daughter off at the day care centre. She made a careful note to remember to pick her up at four in the afternoon, not wanting to have to endure another stern reprimand from Mrs Forwell. Samantha had a tendency to get lost in her work, studying photographs of the moon''s surface and poring over computer analyses of the data sent back by the Copernicus probe, and Mrs Forwell had threatened to ban little Lily if her mother left her there too late again, once well after nine in the evening.


    What had stung Samantha worse than the tongue lashing, though, was the implication that she considered her daughter to be nothing more than a distraction from her work, and the thing that really scared her was the possibility that it might be true. The other scientists and astronomers often pulled all nighters when there was something really important and exciting going on, like the landing of the Chinese astronauts on the moon, but Samantha couldn''t stay with them unless she¡¯d made arrangements for Lily, and if there was no-one to look after her she had no choice but to go home and have the others tell her all about it in the morning.


    Fortunately, astronomy was going through a bit of a quiet spell at the moment, if you discounted what was coming to be known as the Scatter Cloud, the enigmatic cloud of ultra dense objects that had disrupted the world¡¯s satellites, but since the individual objects were far too small to be observed even through the most powerful telescopes and travelling too fast to be intercepted, there was nothing to study. Nothing they could use as a source of data. The cloud was only detectable by the gravitational effect it was having on small objects around it, which allowed them to track it and plot its future course (out of the solar system, never to return) but told them nothing more about it. Until the Europa probe reached the surface of the jovian moon and deployed the submarine with which it would explore its deep ocean, therefore, there was nothing to do but study the data that had been sent back by earlier probes. Luckily, there was enough of that to keep all the scientists and astronomers of the world busy for centuries yet.


    She entered what they''d come to call the Bullpen to find everyone engaged in their own pursuits, therefore. Neil Arndale was talking to someone on the telephone, John Paul was studying his tablet and Sandra Willoughby was scratching her head in frustration as she stared at a page of computer code on the Acorn¡¯s diagnostic screen. Only Josh, the intern, looked up as Samantha hung her coat on the hook and strolled over to her desk. Then he returned his attention to his tablet and the work he was doing for his masters degree.


    Sam took her place at her desk and woke up her desktop computer, whose screen lit up with a summary of all the websites she''d told it to keep an eye on. She spent the morning scrolling through them, bringing herself back up to speed with everything that had happened over the weekend. Some of it she was already familiar with. She looked at her tablet as often as she could while at home, often with Lily sitting in her lap, reading it with an interest equal to hers and with an understanding that would normally be considered beyond that of a six year old. The latest data from Copernicus wasn''t available on the open internet, though, and she had to wait until she was here, with access to the University¡¯s secure network, to see what the Acorn had done with the data since Friday.


    One result in particular made her sit up straight in her chair, grinning with excitement. ¡°The titanium analysis is in.¡± she said to no-one in particular. She was just too thrilled to keep silent. ¡°The isotope ratio is consistent with Hortensius seven erupting only two million years ago.¡±


    ¡°So you were right,¡± said Josh, looking up and smiling.


    ¡°Consistent, I said. We can''t get ahead of ourselves. Even so, this is huge! The most recent confirmed lunar eruption happened forty million years ago, and that caused so much controversy it made the front pages of daily newspapers. Imagine what they''ll say at the very suggestion that there might have been an eruption on the moon only two million years ago. Our ancestors would have been able to see it! Well, our homo erectus ancestors, but they were easily intelligent enough to look up at the sky and wonder at it. I wonder what they thought it was. The moon''s face is unchanging from generation to generation, and then suddenly a tiny little speck of light appears, maybe growing brighter and dimming again from day to day as new lava flows appear and spread. I wonder what they thought of it.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to publish?¡±


    ¡°When the analysis is complete. I need as much data as possible because they¡¯re going to fall on this like a school of sharks on a Bond villain''s incompetent henchman. I need to have so much data that they''ll break their teeth on it.¡±


    ¡°Can you be certain that your conclusions are valid? You yourself said that a supernova might have contaminated the isotope ratios.¡±


    ¡°Not any more. The carbon and oxygen results all but eliminate that possibility.¡± She frowned. ¡°That''s the thing, though. All but. For some people, all but is a synonym for not. They''ll say it¡¯s not proved.¡±


    ¡°Of course they will. They''re supposed to. You told me that, remember?¡± She nodded glumly. ¡°But I think it''ll be a very brave astronomer who argues with you about something to do with the moon. You are, after all, acknowledged as the foremost lunar authority by the greatest minds in the scientific world.¡±


    ¡°That counts for nothing, as you very well know. It''s the data that matters, not who presents it. The data has to be enough to convince everyone on its own, or it¡¯s worthless.¡±


    ¡°Nevertheless, I think that the fact that it comes from you will count for a lot. Remember when Agata Gazda tried to publish that helium 3 paper? No-one would touch it until you read it and gave it your seal of approval. Then they were climbing all over themselves to publish him.¡±


    ¡°His analysis was good. It''s a pity they discounted it because he was relatively unknown. I''m not sure I did him any favours, though. He''s now in my shadow instead of standing out on his own. People talk about Samantha Kumiko''s helium 3 paper and forget he did all the hard work.¡±


    ¡°At least you gave him first billing on the paper.¡±


    ¡°I had to. It was the very least I could do.¡±


    ¡°He seemed grateful enough, and people publish his work now on his own credit. That might not have happened if not for you. When you''ve got the kind of reputation you have, you might as well try to do good with it.¡±


    ¡°If I had my way, all scientific papers would be published anonymously. That would guarantee that they would be judged solely on their quality and not by the reputation of their authors.¡±


    ¡°You know better than me how many papers get published every year. How would the reviewers know which ones to read? And the reputation of the authors is a good guide to the accuracy of the analysis. Even today, people fudge their results to make them fit the theory.¡±


    ¡°Anyone can download the Copernicus data. And anyone with a powerful enough computer can analyse it. They don¡¯t have to take my word for it. You can''t fudge astronomy data. We''re long past the days when scientists scribbled down observations in a notebook and expected people to take their word for it.¡±


    ¡°There''s more than one way to fudge data and you know it. A modern space probe like Copernicus sends back so much data it¡¯s impossible to analyse all of it, so we pick and choose. Try to choose what we think is representative of the whole. Also, computer programs can he made to give extra weight to data falling within certain fields, and the cheat code can be very hard to find, or the programmer might have made an honest mistake that gives a bias to the analysis. And the mistakes get passed on. Writing a million lines of code takes time and effort, so universities borrow off the shelf code written by others...¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s been shown to be reliable time after time. Later studies validate the earlier ones, so we know the code gives good results. The same basic patterns show up in nature all the time, whether it¡¯s the currents in a gas giant''s atmosphere or the flow of a nitrogen glacier, so you can use the same code to analyse both.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe that¡¯s just an assumption people have been making. Who knows how many mistakes have been overlooked because people just assumed the code was applicable to the experiment? That''s why reputation is important. Everyone knows Sandra writes our code, that she tailors it to every analysis, and they trust her to know what she''s doing.¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t stop them questioning it in every review,¡± said the redhead irritably without taking her eyes from the screen. She changed her voice to mock the reviewer. ¡°This analysis used untested code, and so must be verified independently.¡±


    ¡°That''s just good practice,¡± said Samantha. ¡°You know that. And every verification has upheld our conclusions. Every single one. If my name is respected around the world, so is yours.¡± Susan looked around at this and smiled before returning to her work.


    ¡°Okay, I suppose reputation is important,¡± Samantha conceded. She looked back at the computer screen, her excitement returning. ¡°Two million years!¡± she said, and Josh could suddenly see what she would have looked like as a teenager. Long black hair draped across her shoulders. A fringe almost covering her luminous brown eyes and a wide grin, not brought about by anything in particular but by simple, pure joy of life. ¡°There was a volcano erupting on the moon just two million years ago! Isn''t that just so cool?¡±


    Her excitement was infectious and everyone in the room found themselves sharing it. There was a moment of shared camaraderie, a moment of friendship as everyone looked up from their own work to share in the moment, but then it passed and Samantha moved on to the next item on the computer screen.

 Chapter Six

    ¡°Happy birthday Dad!¡± said Richard and Hazel together. ¡°Happy forty fifth!¡± added Richard. ¡°Hope you¡¯re having a good time up there! We''re having a great time down here!¡± To prove it, he produced a bottle of wine and poured himself a glassful, then took a deep swallow.


    ¡°I can see that,¡± said Paul Lewis, laughing. ¡°I hope you¡¯re not driving home.¡±


    There was a speed of light delay of about two seconds as his words were bounced to a newly re-positioned satellite and down to the house in Lincolnshire before Hazel answered. ¡°I''m designated driver for the occasion,¡± she said. ¡°Don''t worry. Me, Len and Cathy''ll roll him home when we think he¡¯s had enough party spirit.¡±


    ¡°And I''ll make sure he doesn''t have too much,¡± said Cathy, coming into view from the edge of the monitor screen to gently but insistently pluck the glass from her husband¡¯s hand. Richard took a swig directly from the bottle instead before she took that from him as well.


    ¡°When are you coming home, Dad?¡± she asked, taking a three month old baby from her sister¡¯s husband and holding him in the crook of her arm. ¡°This little chap¡¯s never seen his grand daddy except on a screen.¡±


    ¡°It''s going to be a while yet, I''m afraid,¡± replied Paul. ¡°They''re using all the available launch windows to replace the satellites that couldn''t be saved. It might be months before they can get a replacement crew up here. So long as we''re all in good health they''ve asked us to stay up here a bit longer.¡±


    ¡°Couldn''t you fake an illness?¡± said Richard, grinning. ¡°Say you¡¯re coming down with space lurgy. Just fake a few symptoms. Double vision, headaches, excessive flatulence...¡±


    ¡°You know they monitor all communications, right?¡±


    After the brief speed of light delay Richard slapped a hand to his head. ¡°Guess I''m not cut out to be a criminal mastermind,¡± he said. Someone chuckled off screen.


    ¡°Who else is there?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°Apart from mum? Just a few friends...¡± The sound of cheering came from off screen and a few heads popped into view, some holding drinks, some with party hats on their head. Hands were waved and a chorus of voices wished him a happy birthday. ¡°Thought we''d make a day of it. Any excuse for a party.¡±


    Paul laughed and waved back. ¡°Thank you everyone. Have one on me.¡± The cheering intensified, then turned into laughter. ¡°I''d like to talk to Mags now, before we lose the slot.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. She''s in the spare room, so you can talk in private. Well, except for, you know. Anyway, I''ll pass you over.¡±


    He leaned forward to fill the screen, pressed a button and his face was replaced with that of his wife, Margaret. Sitting in a chair in front of the spare room computer. ¡°Mags! How you doing?¡±


    She smiled and leaned forward in the chair. ¡°Paul! Happy birthday!¡±


    ¡°Thanks. Everything okay down there?¡±


    ¡°Everything''s fine. The kids are fine, they¡¯re both doing well in their jobs. The only thing not fine is you still being up there.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know I promised I''d be back by now. It''s the satellites, They¡¯re using all the launch windows to...¡±


    ¡°I know about the satellites!¡± She tossed her head angrily to throw her glossy chestnut hair back out of her eyes. ¡°You could come back down if you wanted to. They can¡¯t keep you up there.¡±


    ¡°It''ll probably be months before they can get a replacement crew up here. They''ve asked me to stay a little longer...¡±


    ¡°There are eight of you up there! I watch the telly, I know your operations have all been put on hold until they get everything back to normal. An expert was saying he was surprised you weren''t operating on a skeleton crew until then. He said it only takes two people to do the basic housekeeping. The rest of you could come back down. You could just take one of the shuttles and come back down!¡±


    ¡°It''s not that simple. We used most of our fuel just keeping the station up in orbit. The engines of the second shuttle are the only way we have of making a course correction if we see a big piece of space debris in our path. They''re hoping to get us refuelled as soon as possible, but no-one seems to know when that will be.¡±


    ¡°You have the escape pods.¡± There was no delay, which told Paul she¡¯d spoken before he''d finished speaking. ¡°You could come down in the escape pods.¡±


    ¡°They''re only for emergencies, we can''t just take one. I''m sorry. I know I made you a promise, but...¡±He took a deep breath to calm himself. He hated seeing his wife becoming upset. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I''m stuck up here for a while. A few months at least.¡±


    He looked at the timer at the bottom of the screen. Only a few seconds left. Until they got more satellites back into position there was a limit to how long they could keep the connection open. To conserve the satellites¡¯ limited reserves of fuel, they were putting them into minimal fuel trajectories that would take weeks to get them back to where they were supposed to be. ¡°I have to go now,¡± he said therefore. ¡°I''m sorry. If there were any way to get back to you, I would, but there''s just no way, not yet. I love you.¡±


    She nodded unhappily. ¡°I love you too. Take care up there. Don''t do anything dangerous.¡±


    ¡°I won''t. I promise...¡± The picture broke up, then vanished and Paul found himself staring at his reflection in the dark screen. Then George Jefferson¡¯s face appeared in it. ¡°That''s the best we can do, I''m afraid,¡± the ground controller said. ¡°You''ll be over her house in a couple of orbits. You can talk to her directly.¡±


    ¡°No, thanks, tomorrow will do. There''s things I have to do. Thanks, George.¡±


    ¡°No worries mate.¡±


    The screen went black again and Paul unstrapped himself from the chair. ¡°I''m going to check the air filters,¡± he told Zhang Yong, on duty in the control module while Lauren was sleeping. The Chinese shuttle pilot nodded distractedly, then turned his attention back to the systems overview monitor.


    In space, the dust never settled. Without gravity to pull it down it just floated around in the air and if it got too thick it could cause breathing problems for the astronauts. All the air was filtered, therefore. Each module had its own filter, sucking the air in and spinning it to centrifuge out the particles of lint, flakes of skin and grains of metal, compacting it into a cylindrical brick that could be removed and packed into a refuse bag for return to earth. Paul had heard that a university student was analysing the stuff as part of his graduate course, but what insights he expected to get was beyond him.


    He went to the Colibri shuttle to get the dust canister, then checked the filter in the Vulcan module since that was the closest. Bao was there, doing some routine maintenance work on number two furnace, and he looked up as the assistant commander flipped open the filter¡¯s casing, eased the compact brick of detritus out and opened the dust canister to allow the brick to drift into it. Then he closed both of the plastic boxes with a click of the fasteners, nodded to the scientist and kicked his way into the next module.


    He made his way from one to the next, offering friendly greetings to each member of the space station crew as he passed them. He did them in the same order as he always did, that being the best way to make sure he didn''t miss one, and that brought him back to the command module last where he found that Susan Kendall had entered since he''d left. She was staring through the small, round porthole in what Paul tended to think of as the floor, even though there were no floors or ceilings in the weightless habitat. The chairs were all oriented the same way, though, and the pothole was in that part of the hull that was below them when they were sitting in them.


    ¡°Just in time,¡± she said in a flat voice as Paul emptied the air filter. ¡°Come and look.¡±


    She moved aside to make room and Paul, curious, pushed himself down towards her. With their heads so close together that he could feel her hair brushing against his, he looked through the four inch thick glass.


    ¡°What are we looking at?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You see the horn of Africa?¡± she said. ¡°Just west of Mogadishu.¡±


    ¡°That''s the city on the south eastern coast?¡±


    A reluctant chuckle escaped from the space scientist. ¡°I thought it was we Americans who were supposed to be bad at geography. You see that moving point of light?¡±


    ¡°Yes. What is it?¡±


    ¡°That is Lockyer. My research platform. Burning up as it re-enters the atmosphere.¡±


    He moved a couple of feet away so he could look at her properly. ¡°Oh Susan! I''m so sorry!¡± She nodded, accepting the sentiment, but didn''t seem comforted by it. ¡°If there had been any way to save it...¡±


    ¡°The mule could have saved it. All they had to do was care enough about pure science instead of military paranoia. They saved a spy satellite, you know. A Chinese spy satellite they use for spying on the Indians. As if India is any threat to China.¡±


    ¡°The mule is Chinese. It was rather predictable that they''d use it to safeguard their military assets in preference to everything else. We, Europe I mean, we''re always talking about launching a mule of our own...¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°They''d still have used it to save the military stuff first.¡± She looked back through the pothole. Paul, looking past the untidy tangle of dark hair, saw that the fireball had broken up into several smaller ones. As he watched, they went out one by one, fading like sparks from a fire.


    He pulled himself away and returned to the centre of the module. After a moment, she joined him. A tear formed at the corner of her eye and floated away; a small, quivering globule glistening in the module''s artificial light. ¡°The only critical phase helium crystals in the universe, gone in a puff of vapour. It took me six months to grow them and I never even had the chance to look at them.¡±


    ¡°You have the camera images...¡±


    ¡°Shut up Paul.¡± She wiped her eyes with her hand. ¡°I''m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°It''s just that, I was just getting to the point where I could start doing some useful science with them. Just discovering their melting point... You know, there are some theories that predict that they would be stable at room temperature. Imagine being able to hold solid helium in your hand. They could have told us so much! The boring part, the growing them, was over. I spent six months watching them grow, one atom at a time. Six months waiting to get some real work done.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe it won''t take so long next time.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well, there was this theory going around back in the last century. Morphic resonance. It was dreamed up by some chap called Rupert Sheldrake. Basically, he said that the universe somehow remembers how to make complex structures. It may take ages for the structure to form the first time, but next time it¡¯ll be quicker because the universe somehow remembers.¡±


    ¡°That''s ridiculous!¡±


    ¡°Says the Christian.¡±


    Susan stared, then turned and kicked herself off from a chair towards the exit to node five. Paul cursed himself for an idiot and reached out to grab her ankle. ¡°Susan! I''m sorry! I don¡¯t know why I said that!¡±


    ¡°Let go of me.¡±


    Paul let go of her ankle and she turned to glare back at him. ¡°My faith is just a joke to you. You mock us. You mock our beliefs...¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t! I really don¡¯t! It''s true I don¡¯t believe what you believe but... Look, I don''t know if there''s a god or not. Maybe there is, who knows? Please, I''m sorry. It was a thoughtless thing to say while you''re... While...¡± He glanced back down at the porthole.


    ¡°So it would have been okay to say it at another time?¡±


    ¡°It''s just that, you mock Sheldrake for having this ridiculous theory, and it is a ridiculous theory, I admit, but the things that Christians believe, you believe them so completely...¡±


    ¡°So you think it was just a coincidence that the scatter cloud passed by when it did?¡±


    ¡°What, you think God did it?¡±


    ¡°Think about it, moron. If the cloud had passed by just a hundred years ago, there would have been nothing up here to be disturbed by it. It might have passed by five hundred years ago, a thousand years ago, and mankind would have been completely oblivious. Why did it wait until we had hundreds of satellites up here? Coincidence?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes. I mean, we don¡¯t know how common these things are. For all we know, there might be scatter clouds passing through the solar system all the time. Maybe that''s what dark matter is.¡±


    ¡°They say the cloud had a total mass of about one per cent the mass of the moon. If things that massive were passing through the solar system all the time...¡±


    ¡°Yes, you''re right,¡± Paul interrupted her. ¡°That was a stupid thing to say, but to think it was the action of some kind of malign intelligence...¡±


    ¡°God is not malign! He loves us. The passage of the cloud must have benefited mankind in some way.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s strange that it¡¯s the only Christian aboard who was affected the worst out of all of us.¡±


    ¡°We have to think of mankind as a whole, Paul. Somehow, the cloud benefits, or will benefit, mankind as a whole, maybe in a way that won''t become clear until hundreds of years from now. And it wasn''t God who lost me Lockyer. it was the asshats in Beijing who could have saved it and chose not to.¡± She kicked herself off again and swam through the hatch, leaving the assistant commander staring after her in dismay.


    ¡°It''s not her fault,¡± said Zhang Yong, whom they''d both forgotten was there with them, at the other end of the module. ¡°In the USA these days, everyone''s either Christian or pretends to be. You could try being a bit more tolerant, though. Your kind of militant atheism just turns potential friends into enemies."


    "What are you talking about? I admire her, respect her..."


    ¡°Is that what you were giving her just now? Admiration and respect?¡±


    ¡°It just seems extraordinary to me that, I mean, she''s a very intelligent woman whose risen to the very top of her field. You know how many people try to become astronauts and how few succeed. You have to really impress the judges to get up here. I always knew she called herself a Christian, lots of people do. It''s just something they write on forms when it asks them for their religion. I suppose I just assumed she was the same.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s not, is she?¡±


    ¡°Bao told me that... He thinks she''s an actual creationist. Young earth, six days, talking snakes, the whole thing. Do you think that''s true?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn''t advise asking her. She probably wouldn¡¯t take it well.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I can probably never talk to her about religion again without her thinking I''m mocking her. Better to just avoid the whole subject. I''ll find something else to talk to her about and, hopefully, the whole religion thing will just fade and be forgotten.¡±


    ¡°I suppose there''s a chance of that.¡±


    Paul chuckled. ¡°Yeah, you''re right. Snowball¡¯s chance in hell, right? I suppose that¡¯s something else she believes in. Hell. And that I deserve to go there.¡± He gave a heavy sigh. ¡°Do you have religious beliefs, Zhang? What do the Chinese believe in?¡±


    ¡°China has many religions. There are Chinese Christians, Chinese Buddhists, Chinese Moslems. I myself was raised as a Taoist.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t know much about... ¡° Paul spread his hands helplessly. ¡°Does Taoism have gods?¡±


    ¡°No. It''s more of a lifestyle really. We try to achieve perfection by becoming one with the rhythms of the universe. I can give you some books to read if you like.¡±


    ¡°Later perhaps. Look, I¡¯d better go find her. See if I can patch things up between us.¡±


    ¡°Good luck. Oh and don''t forget the de-humidifier needs fixing. We don¡¯t want mold growing on the walls.¡±


    ¡°Don''t worry, I''ll get to it.¡± He kicked his way out of the module, following after Susan.


    He went back to the Colibri shuttle again first to drop off the dust box, then went looking for Susan. He found her in the biology module calibrating a centrifuge, a look of stoic calm on her face. She looked up as he entered, then turned back to her work, pointedly ignoring him. He went over to the rodent habitat and pulled the first compartment out of the wall. Inside, twenty white mice were clinging by their claws to the strips of gauze strung across the main open area, which allowed them to move around quite happily as though they were still back on earth. He opened the door in the side, reached in and gently took hold of the nearest mouse, removing it and closing the door again.


    ¡°When you''ve finished what you''re doing,¡± he said, ¡°Could you give me a hand with this?¡±


    Susan grunted a reply. She would, he knew. She was too professional not to, and doing a job together was the best way he knew to move on from an argument. Strictly speaking, looking after the rodent colony was Jayesh Gudka''s responsibility, but handling the mice was a fun job and he''d agreed to let everyone take turns. That made it the perfect task for this occasion. Paul needed something that two people could do together, forcing them to work together, engage in conversation, when one of them would rather have been alone. Hopefully, by the time they¡¯d finished, the argument in the command module would be forgotten and they''d be friends again.


    A few minutes later, therefore, when she¡¯s finished with the centrifuge, Susan came over and removed another mouse from the compartment, putting it in the centrifugal scales to weigh it and then touching its tiny feet to the biometric sensor; a tiny miracle of technology that simultaneously measured its temperature, its bone density, its blood pressure and glucose levels and half a dozen other things that, together, would allow the experts down on earth to assess its general state of health. A larger sensor in the medical module did the same for the human astronauts.


    The mice were the fiftieth generation descendants of the dozen rodents who¡¯d been launched into space twelve years before as part of an ambitious experiment to study the long term effects of microgravity over many generations. Other experiments like it had been done before, but this time they were hoping to continue to breed the rodents in space for a full twenty years. It was expected that, one day, there would be human children born in space, in massive space habitats having populations of several thousand people, but before that could happen it was important to know whether the descendants of those colonists, several generations later, would suffer any lasting ill effects. Every time a shuttle returned to earth it took some of the mice with them, to be bred back in a normal gravity environment, and the last Paul had heard they''d been breeding for several generations without showing any signs that their ancestors had ever been in space.


    ¡°Come on, little fella,¡± he said as he reached for the last occupant of compartment one. They''d all been handled many times before and were well used to it, but for some reason this one was suddenly reluctant to have its health checked and kept scrabbling along the strips of gauze away from Paul''s reaching fingers. Paul was quite glad of that, though, because it gave him something to say to Susan.


    ¡°Been eating too many cakes, have you?¡± he said therefore, glancing across as Susan to share the joke with her. ¡°Is that why you don¡¯t want to be weighed?¡± Susan smiled back out of politeness but said nothing.


    ¡°You can run but you can''t hide,¡± said Paul, making another lunge for the rodent. ¡°I think this is a game for him. He''s enjoying this.¡± Still no reply from the other astronaut, but at least she would know now that he was trying to make things right with her. Even if she wasn''t ready to forgive him yet, he could hope that forgiveness would come at some point, perhaps tomorrow or the day after. However long it took for her wounded feelings to recover.


    ¡°Gotcha!¡± He cried triumphantly as his fingers closed around the reluctant mouse. He removed it from the compartment and read the tag fastened around its ankle. ¡°Convict number 110125. I hope you know you''ve just blown your chances of parole. In fact, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if you get the chair for this.¡±


    ¡°I thought you Brits didn''t have the death penalty,¡± said Susan, glancing up at him again.


    Paul felt a surge of hope. ¡°We make an exception in the case of exceptionally annoying miscreants,¡± he said, carefully placing the mouse in the cage that was attached to the end of the centrifugal scales¡¯ rotating arm. He pressed the button and the arm rotated twice before stopping again. Paul noted the figure that appeared on the display, tapped it into the computer and removed the mouse, which twitched its nose at him. ¡°Thirty seven grams. I knew it! They''ve been smuggling food in. I suspect an accomplice on the outside.¡±


    ¡°Jayesh overfeeds them,¡± said Susan, placing the mice back in their compartment one at a time. She then slid it back into its alcove, flush with the wall. Twenty tiny white faces peered out at her. ¡°I''ve warned him about it. If they get too overweight he risks invalidating the whole experiment.¡±


    ¡°He''s due to go home on the next shuttle, whenever that is. We can indulge the little fellows that long. It''s not like they''re massively overweight. Thirty seven grams is just on the high side of normal.¡± He tapped the transparent plastic with the tip of his fingernail. The mice just twitched their noses at him.


    ¡°So does that mean you won''t be bringing a criminal prosecution?¡±


    ¡°I think we can save the taxpayer¡¯s money just this once and let them off with a warning.¡±


    ¡°We should get some activities for them. A ball or something. They must get bored in there.¡±


    ¡°Mice gnaw things when they''re bored. These chaps don¡¯t show any signs of being unhappy. All a mouse wants to do, really, is eat, sleep, poop and shag, and they can do all those things in there.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not all that different from men then,¡± said Susan, and this time there was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she glanced sideways at him. Paul¡¯s heart leapt with jubilation and relief. She¡¯d made a joke! She''d forgiven him! They were friends again!


    ¡°Not quite,¡± he said. ¡°We have beer as well. And football. You''re right, a ball would be a good idea. There''s never been an animal that didn''t enjoy playing with a ball.¡±


    He then pulled the second compartment from the wall and opened the door to remove the first mouse.

 Chapter Seven

    ¡°Before we go any further,¡± said Eddie, ¡°I should tell you right here and now that I won''t be joining this mysterious team of yours. I only came because it¡¯s an all expenses paid holiday in Martinique. I''m afraid I¡¯m just taking shameless advantage of you.¡±


    ¡°Of course you are,¡± said Ben with a smile. ¡°Why do you think we chose Martinique?¡±


    Ben led the younger man out to the car park of Aime Cesaire airport, a small suitcase following after them, its electric motor making a faint hum as it drove the small wheels. He led him to where he had a hired car waiting, a Citroen Bella in metallic blue. Its boot opened with a click as they approached and a small lift descended that the suitcase drove onto. The car then lifted the suitcase into the boot, which closed again.


    Eddie took a moment to glance at the leather upholstery and wood panelling of the interior before he got in through the door Ben was holding for him. ¡°So where''d you get the money for this?¡± he asked as he settled into the comfortable passenger seat. ¡°You bring me, all the members of your team and their families, all the way to Martinique more or less on a whim, giving us all rooms in a top hotel. You hire a top of the range luxury car... This must be costing you a fortune! Where''d you get this kind of money?¡±


    ¡°The British government is picking up the bill.¡± The car started automatically as he sat in the driver¡¯s seat and the head up display appeared on the windscreen. He touched the self drive button and the car reversed itself out of its parking space. ¡°They consider it money well spent if it results in you joining the team. That should tell you something about the importance they place in it, and in you.¡±


    ¡°They might not need to fork out quite so much if you told me a little more about this project. If I''m interested, I might join up without the British taxpayer having to stump up so much money.¡±


    ¡°I told you, security is very tight. They can¡¯t take any chance of someone turning us down and then spilling it all to the media. When you sign up, and I''m confident you will, you''ll sign the official secrets act and we''ll tell you everything then. I do have a little something to show you that I think will pique your interest.¡±


    ¡°Oh? What?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow. I''ll show you tomorrow. I want you to meet the rest of the team first.¡±


    The car reached the road and pulled out into the traffic. Ben settled down in his seat and closed his eyes and, realising that he intended to keep him guessing for a while, Eddie also relaxed and enjoyed the view.


    The airport road was wide and open, with palm trees along either side and in the strip of grass between the two carriageways. There were very few other cars, but there were people walking along the paths that ran alongside the road, enjoying the sun. Martinique was enjoying an early winter heat wave at the moment. Temperatures were already in the high twenties and expected to rise into the low thirties as the day wore on, and there was a lot of bare flesh on view, some of it female and rather attractive. Eddie found himself hoping he''d get a chance to slip off alone at some point so he could get to know one or two of the locals a little better.


    Being on the coast, Fort-de-France, Martinique¡¯s capital, had suffered a little from the rising sea levels, but was coping better than most by virtue of all the tourist money being made from people from the northern latitudes looking for a warm place to take a winter holiday. Sea walls had been built along the docks and the coast roads, and new districts of the city were being built higher up the slopes of the Caribbean island. Where other coastal cities were in dire straits, therefore, Fort-de-France was doing very nicely for itself and was looking to the future with hope and optimism. Whether it would still do so if the West Antarctic ice sheets melted completely, as the experts were saying was increasingly likely in the coming decades, remained to be seen.


    La Bateliere hotel, where Ben had booked rooms for them, was on the other side of Fort-de-France, and they had to drive through the centre of the city to get there. The city wasn''t a large one by global standards, having a population of around a quarter of a million, but it was busy and bustling and the car had to slow to a crawl as it encountered the local traffic. Ben turned a dial on the dashboard to increase the car''s selfishness setting from two to three so that it would give way to other traffic less and force its way through narrower gaps, but it would only result in them getting to the hotel sooner if everyone else still had their cars set to a lower setting. In most cities, people kept their cars set to their maximum selfishness all the time, but the people of Martinique were apparently more relaxed in their driving because the two scientists immediately made better time through the congested streets.


    Eddie was rather disappointed to find that the city looked very similar to every other city he''d ever been in. If it hadn''t been for the fact that all the signs were in French and that they were driving on the right they might very well have been in any small city in England. Then they turned into another street and he saw that the palm trees had invaded the city, lining the streets in the same way that chestnuts and maples did back home, many of them leaning over at precarious angles so that the upper parts of their trunks were almost parallel to the ground. He wondered what kind of palms they were, whether they were the kind that had coconuts. No, not in a city, he decided. Way too dangerous. Probably a kind of date palm. He studied several of the trees as they passed them by, but couldn''t see any of them bearing fruit.


    They passed through the centre of the city, then through the suburbs on the other side until they were heading back towards the coast. The hotel was at the top of a small hill that overlooked the beach. The car entered the car park and drove around until it found a parking spot for itself.


    ¡°Wow!¡± said Eddie, looking around. The main hotel building was surrounded by perfectly manicured lawns and shrub beds as well as the ubiquitous palm trees, some of which, he saw, had somehow been trained to grow into the shape of Japanese fans. There was a taxi rank beside the hotel''s main entrance along which a row of identical white cars were parked, none with a driver inside. The latest voice activated self driving taxis, he guessed. Just get in, tell the taxi where you want to go and the taxi identifies you from your voice print and deducts the fare from your account automatically. And If you have to ask in advance how much it will cost, then this isn''t the hotel for you. Shit! Just how much was Ben having to pay for this? He felt himself growing increasingly uncomfortable about having to turn down the job offer just because of the amount of money that was being spent on him.


    They got out of the car and the boot opened to deposit the suitcase on the tarmac. It followed after the two men as they walked towards the hotel''s entrance. Inside, a human receptionist was standing behind a desk. Ben identified himself to her and she smiled as she handed them a key each. ¡°Profitez de votre s¨¦jour, messieurs,¡± she said, her smile growing even wider, and Ben thanked her as they left to find their rooms.


    ¡°When you¡¯re settled in,¡± Ben then said, ¡°we''ll be waiting for you in the lounge, down there. Everybody else should already be here. By the way, the cover story is that we work for a defence contractor called Wilson¡¯s. That''s what we tell the wives and children. They think we''re working on laser weapons, ECM systems, that sort of thing, so if you hear them talking about it, please just go along with it.¡±


    ¡°I don''t know anything about weapons,¡± protested Eddie. ¡°I¡¯m a theoretical physicist.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and the story is that we''re working on a new weapon that uses cutting edge physics. A vacuum energy weapon. If anyone brings the subject up, just say you''re not allowed to talk about it. Okay?¡±


    Eddie nodded. ¡°Is there such a thing as a vacuum energy weapon?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure not, because if there was one, we''re the people who would have invented it.¡± He grinned like a shark. ¡°So, see you in the lounge.¡±


    ¡°See you there,¡± Eddie replied.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    The lounge had one wall open, overlooking the sea, to allow a warm breeze to blow in. Ben was sitting at a group of tables near where the retractable wall would normally be with a small group of people; nine adults and five children. All dressed casually and all clearly members of the same group. Eddie threaded his way between the other tables and the potted plants towards them.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Ah, here he is,¡± said Ben, rising to greet him. ¡°Our guest of honour. Edward Nash, the boy wonder.¡±


    ¡°If I''m boy wonder then you must be Batman.¡±


    They shook hands while the others stared curiously. ¡°So, this is the young man you''ve told us so much about,¡± said a tall, blonde woman sitting to Ben''s right. She also stood to shake hands with him.


    ¡°Eddie, this is Karen Kerr, my deputy,¡± said Ben, ¡°and that gorgeous couple over there is Jessica, her daughter and her husband, Stuart.¡± He indicated a couple in their twenties sitting on the other side of the table. They were also tall and blonde, and the man was broad across the shoulders, his skin golden and suntanned. The woman had an infant sitting in a pram by her side. ¡°They''re also members of the project,¡± added Ben. ¡°Karen helps me with the administration these days. Physics is a game for the young, as you know, so Jessica is taking up the mantle of family genius.¡±


    ¡°Mother is still way smarter then me, though,¡± said Jessica, leaning across the table to shake hands. ¡°I''ll never be half the researcher she is.¡±


    ¡°Was,¡± Karen corrected her. ¡°I''m just a bookkeeper these days. The government likes us to keep track of all their money.¡±


    ¡°I''m sure they do,¡± said Eddie, smiling.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you,¡± said Stuart, offering his hand. Eddie smiled again as he took it. ¡°I''m the project''s head of security. I''m the one who''ll shoot you if you leak it to the Russians.¡± Eddie''s smile broadened with nervousness. ¡°I suppose they were afraid that Karen and Jess would talk about work at home and that I might overhear, so since the head of security doesn¡¯t need any science qualifications they decided to hire me. That way, that three of us can talk shop at home as much as we like.¡±


    ¡°Stu does himself a disservice,¡± said Jessica. ¡°He¡¯s a mechanical genius and does a lot of work on the hardware. Don''t let him fool you into thinking he drools like an idiot while we eggheads are cracking atoms.¡±


    ¡°Compared to you I drool like an idiot,¡± said Stuart, smiling. ¡°You inherited the family brain. I just married into the family.¡± He gestured over to the next table where four children were being looked after by a man who looked to be in his thirties. They were all eating ice creams, and the man was wiping the face of the smallest child who had ice cream all over his pudgy cheeks. ¡±The two blonde children over there are ours. Hugh and Lee. They''re four and three respectively.¡±


    ¡°The babysitter¡¯s Frank Williams, our newest recruit,¡± said Ben. ¡°Been with us for about three years now.¡± The man waved over, Eddie waved back. ¡°The ebony goddess is Alice Levine and that''s her husband Desmond beside her. The other two kids over there belong to them.¡±


    ¡°Hey, man,¡± said Desmond, raising a hand. Eddie raised a hand back to him.


    ¡°And finally, the chap in the wheelchair¡¯s James Buckley, with his lovely wife Jasmine and their son Matthew.¡±


    Matthew looked to be about fourteen or fifteen to Eddie, too told to sit with the other children. He was doing his best to look and act like an adult but Eddie could see he was bored and would probably much rather have been playing on his MiniVirt or kicking a football about. He was staring curiously at the new arrival, and Eddie guessed that he was probably bursting with curiosity to know what it was that his father was involved with. He was probably hoping to overhear something that would give him a clue. He was going to be disappointed, though. There''d be nothing but small talk and getting to know each other until Ben could get the project members away from their families, probably some time tomorrow.


    Ben asked him what he wanted to drink and he asked for a French Sunset. Ninety percent orange juice with a little rum for taste. Ted put a finger on the table¡¯s touch pad, going through the menu until he found the item he wanted, and a moment later a human waiter came with the drink on a silver tray. ¡°Will there be anything else?¡± he asked as he put the perspiring glass on the table in front of Eddie. Frank and Alice asked for refills and the waiter took their empty glasses away with him.


    ¡°So,¡± said Frank, coming over to join Eddie at the main table. Jasmine took his place at the smaller table to look after the children. ¡°Any family of your own, Eddie?¡±


    ¡°Parents, an uncle and a couple of cousins. No family of my own yet. Still waiting for the right girl to come along.¡±


    ¡°She will,¡± said James. ¡°If an ugly sod like me can land a fish like Jas, you''ll have no trouble.¡±


    ¡°May I ask how...¡± Eddie gestured to the wheelchair awkwardly.


    ¡°Road traffic accident a couple of years ago. The guy was looking in a shop window at just the wrong moment and his car¡¯s autodrive suffered some kind of glitch. Went off the road and went right over me. Snapped my spine like a rotten twig. I''m having the stem cell treatments, though, and they say I''ll be back on my feet in a couple of years. Until then, I''m confined to this thing.¡± He tapped the chair¡¯s armrest with the palm of his hand.


    ¡°Still, I expect you got a nice payout from the car company, didn''t you?¡± He took a sip of his drink.


    ¡°I''m afraid not. They said it couldn¡¯t have been a bug in the programming or cars would be running people over all over the place. They only have to point to how safe the roads are these days. Could have been interference from someone''s home hub, they said. Apparently, some people boost the power to serve a whole street, then collect from their neighbours, only a fraction of what the data companies would charge. The signal can screw up a car¡¯s navigation, they say, and they can produce a whole army of experts to prove it. A little guy like me¡¯s got no chance.¡±


    ¡°Well, at least you¡¯re not in that thing for life, like in the old days. Glass half full, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± agreed James. He turned towards the children¡¯s table. ¡°You okay over there, Jas?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± The woman called back. ¡°The kids are getting restless, though. Can I take them over to the Virt?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course.¡± James turned to his son. ¡°You want to go with them, Matty?¡±


    ¡°You want me to share a game with pre schoolers? Saving the world from killer pixies?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t all have to have the same adventure. You can have one all of your own. A clever chap like you can probably even override the parental guidance.¡±


    ¡°James!¡± cried Jasmine in outrage. ¡°Don''t encourage him!¡±


    Even the prospect of an adult virtual adventure didn''t tempt the lad, though, and he just watched as Jasmine led the four children to where the headsets were standing on a shelf above the reclining chairs. Eddie watched as she fitted a helmet to each child, selected an adventure from the control panel mounted on the wall and then entered the game herself, lying on another couch and placing a helmet on her head so she could supervise the game and pull them out of it if necessary.


    ¡°What games do you like to play?¡± Eddie asked Matthew. ¡°You got the new Liquidator yet? What is it, the sixth in the series now?¡± The boy just looked away, though, and Eddie realised he didn''t want to talk about kid stuff while he was the only child among adults. ¡°Can you really hack them?¡± he asked, therefore. ¡°That takes some serious computer skills.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s top of his class in IT,¡± said James proudly.


    Matthew looked back at them, trying to keep the smile of pleasure and pride from looking too obvious. ¡°They leave a back door open for the engineers,¡± the boy said. ¡°They always do. All you''ve got to do is find it and you''re in.¡±


    ¡°I think it''s a little more complicated than that,¡± said James. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want us to know how smart he is in case we take his tablet away from him, but I know he¡¯s not going to do something stupid like hack into GovNet. He''s smart enough to avoid getting burned. Give him a few more years and I think we might be wanting him on the team at Wilson''s.¡±


    Eddie stared in confusion until he remembered what Wilson''s was. ¡°Could be,¡± agreed Ted. ¡°What do you say, Champ? Fancy working with your old man when you¡¯re out of college?¡±


    ¡°Maybe I''ll start my own company and then he can come and work for me.¡±


    James laughed. ¡°Only if I get my own parking space and the keys to the executive toilet.¡±


    ¡°Treat me well while I''m young and I''ll treat you well when you''re old.¡±


    ¡°You see the kind of crook I''m raising?¡± cried James in horror while the others chuckled in amusement. ¡°God alone knows where he gets it. It sure as hell isn''t me.¡±


    ¡°I heard that!¡± called back Jasmine from under the Virt helmet. The four year old child gave a hissing laugh that he probably thought sounded cool.


    ¡°Shut up, Jas. You can''t use that gizmo unless you concentrate.¡±


    ¡°How much multitasking skill do you think it takes to watch a three year old fighting elves and listen to your thinly veiled insults?¡±


    ¡°Thinly veiled? I must be losing my touch.¡±


    ¡°Ignore those infants,¡± said Alice, reaching past Ben to pat the back of Eddie''s hand. ¡°Tell us more about yourself. Ben tells us you work at Bristol University. Do you teach there?¡±


    ¡°Occasionally. I''m mainly with the research staff, though. I don''t come into contact with the students much. Only when one of the tutors is away for some reason and they need someone to fill in. It''s not something I really enjoy, though. I know some people do. They get some kind of deep personal fulfilment from passing on their knowledge and wisdom to the next generation, but what gets my blood pumping is pushing back the frontiers of human knowledge. Teasing out nature''s secrets. Learning something that nobody in all history has ever known before.¡±


    ¡°Not the sort of person one would expect to be interested in a job with a defence contractor, then,¡± said Desmond, eyeing him strangely.


    ¡°I''m not interested,¡± admitted Eddie. ¡°I¡¯m only here because it''s a free holiday. Being head hunted is very flattering and all, but I''m very happy where I am.¡±


    ¡°That''s only because I haven''t told him exactly what we want him for,¡± said Ben, looking across at Desmond and smiling enigmatically. ¡°We also have a research department. Physics research. And being military means we have funds and resources that a University can only dream of. I''m confident he''ll change his mind when he sees the kind of environment he''ll be working in.¡±


    ¡°Well, I won''t deny that I''m eager to find out as much as you''re willing to tell me, but please don''t mistake that for any kind of willingness to actually join you. You all seem like wonderful people and I look forward to learning more about you over the next couple of days, but then I''m going home to Brighton. I just don''t want you to think I''m leading you on or anything.¡±


    ¡°No-one thinks that,¡± said Ben, smiling reassuringly, ¡°and I assure you that we¡¯ll always be friends no matter what decision you make.¡± He looked around the table at the empty glasses. ¡°So. Who wants another drink?¡±

 Chapter Eight

    ¡°I''ve lost an asteroid,¡± said Juliet Musgrove, her voice tired and embarrassed. ¡°It''s not where it''s supposed to be. It''s just vanished!¡±


    She knew that Jafar Kareem, her mentor, would relish the opportunity for a bit of playful banter and she wasn''t disappointed. ¡°How careless of you,¡± he said, an amused gleam in his eye. He was reading the Annual Review of Astronomy and Astrophysics on his tablet and he put it down to look up at her. ¡°Where did you have it last?¡±


    Juliet was in no mood for humour, though. She''d had a raging argument with her boyfriend the night before and then her personal tablet had somehow picked up a virus and had been shut off from the Net to stop it infecting anything else. Curing it would take a large chunk out of that month¡¯s allowance, money she needed for food and rent and, being an intern working for her Masters thesis, she didn''t have a lot to begin with. She was already in a foul mood, therefore, and having minor planets misbehaving and being mocked by her mentor was not helping. She just ignored the jibe, therefore, and ploughed on, shoving the observatory tablet under his nose to show him.


    The tablet showed a starfield, an image taken by one of the telescopes of the SDN network, constantly scanning the sky for objects that might threaten the earth. Several of the stars had their IAU designations beside them and some were asteroids, members of the main belt between Mars and Jupiter, each of them also labelled. Their designations were considerably longer; a list of numbers and letters which imparted quite a lot of information to those who knew how to read them. In the centre of the screen was a set of crosshairs, in the middle of which was nothing but blackness.


    The elderly astronomer frowned, his humour forgotten. ¡°Those are the correct coordinates?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes. I put them in twice.¡± She touched the screen to being up a virtual keyboard and entered the coordinates again. The screen flickered, then showed the same image as before. Then she touched another button to show the image from the week before. A tiny point of light appeared in the centre of the crosshairs. ¡°See? There it is. Right where it¡¯s supposed to be.¡± She touched another control and the dot moved across the screen in tiny little jerks. ¡°That''s it moving across the sky over the past two months. A nice, normal orbit. We know exactly where it should be right now, but in the last image it''s not there. Shit, this is really going to screw up my thesis!¡±


    ¡°Peace be upon you, child. Asteroids don''t just vanish. The asteroid occupies just one pixel of the image, the CCD is probably damaged. A stray cosmic ray came in and fried one of the elements. If you look at the same pixel in the previous images...¡± He highlighted the pixel where the asteroid should have been, then called up a number of images taken by the same telescope until he found one that showed something other than space blackness in that pixel. A planetary nebula, a glorious rainbow of reds and greens. The highlighted pixel showed colour, just as it was supposed to. ¡°Hmmm,¡± said Jafar, stroking his luxuriant white beard thoughtfully. ¡°This image is five months old. The damage may have happened since then...¡±


    He returned to the original image and studied it thoughtfully while Juliet watched doubtfully. She didn''t know much about charge coupled devices, the retinas of modern cameras, but she knew they were considered very reliable these days, even in the harsh environment of space. She¡¯d never heard of anyone else having this problem. She wondered whether her thesis would still be admissible if one of the images showing the asteroid¡¯s orbit was corrupted. It was only one of fifteen asteroids she was studying, after all. Trying to prove they were all derived from one larger asteroid that had been shattered by a giant impact twenty million years ago. Even if the data from this one asteroid were to be excluded because of this glitch, whatever it was, she would still have fourteen others. More than enough to make a convincing case, she was sure. Maybe she could simply disregard this asteroid and move on.


    Jafar was frowning at the image, though. He touched the screen with two fingers and reverse pinched it to magnify the image, then scrolled across to bring one of the stars into the centre. He magnified it more until it filled half the screen. The image became great squares of colour, each one a single image pixel. Juliet watched curiously over his shoulder. What was he looking at?


    The elder astronomer then called up an earlier image of the same star, magnified it, put the two images side by side on the screen. Juliet gasped in amazement. They were slightly different. The first star was slightly larger and just the slightest bit lopsided.


    ¡°There is your asteroid,¡± said Jafar. ¡°Hiding in the glare of Sagittarius 212.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not possible!¡± cried Juliet, though. ¡°How can it be there? How can it just jump like that?¡± She stared at her mentor, who simply stared back. ¡°We know exactly where it should be!¡± She returned to the original image, then highlighted the star. It was visibly to one side of the asteroid¡¯s path. ¡°To be there, it would have had to change direction dramatically. If it was a spaceship, it would have had to make a long engine burn, consume a ton of fuel, but it''s not a spaceship. It''s an asteroid. Just a great lump of rock. It can¡¯t be there!¡±


    ¡°To simply disregard data because it does not conform to your expectations is not scientific.¡±


    ¡°That can''t be the asteroid!¡± she insisted. ¡°It''s a glitchy element of the CCD, like you said. And that star, you can''t possibly draw any meaningful conclusions from such a poor image. The asteroid is right where it should be. The telescope just missed it because of a glitchy CCD.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s find out,¡± said Jafar. He took his phone from his pocket and chose a number from the quickdial. He waited a few moments for his call to be answered. ¡°Hermann! How are you? Good, good. Listen, I wonder if you can help me resolve a puzzling issue. Could you please verify the position of asteroid open parenthesis 10103427 close parenthesis 2037QH22? No, QH.¡± There was a short pause. ¡°Well, it¡¯s just possible that it''s gone astray. A collision perhaps. More likely a glitch in the data.¡± Another pause. ¡°Yes. I understand. That will be fine. Thank you, Hermann. And you.¡±


    He touched the phone¡¯s screen to cut the connection. ¡°It''ll be a couple of days before he can get time on the telescope,¡± he said. ¡°If that is the asteroid, hiding in the star''s glare, it will have moved on by then. He should be able to get a good image of it.¡±


    ¡°If it is the asteroid, what could cause it to move like that?¡±


    ¡°An encounter with a massive object, perhaps. An impact or a near miss.¡± He looked at the image again. ¡°There is nothing visible here, though. An object large enough to have done this, it should show up in the image.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the direction the Scattercloud came from?¡± asked Juliet, her eyes widening with fear.


    The older astronomer laughed. ¡°You think there''s another Scattercloud coming? Following the same path as the first? No, child, I very much doubt it. Probably just a glitch in the data, like we said. A faulty element in the CCD. No need to imagine exotic possibilities when the truth is probably much more mundane.¡± A thoughtful look came over his face, though. ¡°Why don''t you look through the images. Check the positions of all the other asteroids in that part of the sky. See if any others have gone astray.¡±


    ¡°And what do we do if they have?¡±


    ¡°They probably have not. I fully expect that they will all be right where they''re supposed to be. We just want to cover all the possibilities, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Juliet nodded, a frown of worry on her face. Then she took the tablet back to her own workspace.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Eddie was surprised by how fast the feeling of awful self consciousness wore off. He was standing on the beach, as naked as the day he was born, surrounded by hundreds of strangers as naked as he was, the only exception being Jessica¡¯s baby who was wearing a nappy. When the other members of Ben''s party had begun stripping off, casually and with complete ease and confidence, he''d had the choice of either joining in or being the only person in sight wearing a swimming costume, something that would have attracted attention from everyone and made him feel even more awkward and uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, therefore, he''d untied the cord of his swimming trunks and allowed them to drop to his ankles.


    He was the only one with tan lines, he saw. Everyone else, even the children, had smooth, even tans across their entire bodies, telling him that they did this regularly, if their behaviour hadn''t already told him this. Alice and Desmond were erecting a volleyball net while their children chased each other across the sand, laughing and squealing, and James Buckley had parked his wheelchair beside the nearest drinks stall, its large, wire mesh wheels coping easily with the sand. He had raised the seat until his head was level with the other patrons gathered around the bar, allowing him to chat with them. Jasmine watched him warily and frowned at the cocktail he''d already ordered. He took it and drained it in one swallow before ordering another.


    Eddie took a can of sun spray from his shoulder bag and applied it to those parts of his body that were feeling the sun for the first time, watching the other holiday makers warily. He would much rather have done this is private. He saw Ben watching him, a broad grin on his face. His reputation for having a wicked sense of humour was well earned, it seems. If he''d had warning, he could have gotten a spray tan before leaving the hotel, but now Ben, and anyone else, would just have to endure the sight of his shining white bottom.


    He wondered what Ben would have said if he''d been too shy and timid to strip off in public. He was the repressed Englishman, after all, in an age when almost all other Europeans were quite happy to let it all hang out. Were there any other Englishman on the beach? he wondered. Looking around, searching the crowd, he finally saw a small group of people wearing swimming costumes about a hundred metres away, on the other side of a small cluster of palm trees that were growing in the water, inundated by the rising sea level. They were dark skinned, though, so perhaps they were Arabs, whose women still possessed too much modesty to go completely unclothed even in this modern age.


    Frank and Jasmine were laying a blanket out on the sand, and when they had it flat they lay down on it, wriggling their bottoms to form comfortable depressions under them. Jasmine had brought a book, he saw, but she had laid it down beside her to search the beach, shading her eyes with a slender, long fingered hand. ¡®¡±Where¡¯s Matt gone off to?¡± she asked.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°He won''t have gone far,¡± said Frank. ¡°Ah, there he is.¡±


    He pointed, and they looked to see him standing by the shore, the waves lapping around his ankles. He was staring at a pair of teenage girls, barely older than he was, and didn''t seem to have learned the importance of keeping your eyes on a naked woman''s face. They didn''t seem to mind where his eyes were going, though. Indeed, they were checking him out just as openly and giggling to each other. He wandered closer to them, trying to make it appear as though he just happened to be going in that direction, and Eddie wondered what kind of lock his parents would be putting on his bedroom door that night. ¡°Matt!¡± his mother called out, and the boy headed reluctantly back towards her.


    Jessica handed the baby to Alice, who cooed over her grandchild adoringly. Jessica, Stuart and Frank then joined Alice and Desmond by the volleyball net. ¡°Hey, Eddie!¡± called out Stuart. ¡°We need a sixth man for the game!¡±


    Eddie walked over to join them and Desmond threw him a ball. ¡°I thought it was two teams of two,¡± he said, bouncing it on his hand before throwing it back.


    ¡°Rules are for the guidance of the wise and the obedience of fools,¡± the north African replied, catching the ball, spinning it on the tip of his index finger and throwing it back again. ¡°One girl on each team? You want to be on Team Levine, Eddie?¡±


    ¡°Sure, why not?¡±


    Frank and the Kerrs trotted over to the other side of the net. The two married couples took their places close to the net, while Frank and Eddie stood further back to catch long balls. Ben, Karen and Jasmine sat on the blanket to watch, shepherding the younger children into a small group in front of them while Matthew, temporarily forgotten by the others, drifted away to find some more young women to stare at. At the drinks stall, James ordered another cocktail and stared out across the sea, to where a huge ship was just visible in the misty haze of the horizon.


    For the first couple of games, Edie was distracted by the various body parts bouncing all over the place, both his own and those of the others, but he soon forgot their nakedness and, after one particularly satisfying victory in which he came right up to the net and slammed the ball hard into the sand at Jessica¡¯s feet, he realised that it had been some time since he''d last given any thought to the bareness of their bodies. Wearing nothing felt natural and unremarkable and it astonished him that he''d ever been anxious about it. He was able to give his full attention to the game, therefore, and as a result they won the next two games easily. Suspiciously easily, he thought. We¡¯re they letting his team win to make him feel good and make him more likely to join their research project?


    The next game, though, it was obvious that the Kerrs were playing to the very best of their ability in an attempt to draw even. They were grunting and straining with effort and sweat sheened their pale, nordic bodies causing sand to stick to them all the way up to their thighs. They won the next game, therefore, and danced with triumph, the three of them coming together in a victory hug with kisses and the pounding of backs.


    The tournament was interrupted by the arrival of an autoporter, trundling across the sand accompanied by a pair of casually dressed men. On its cargo deck was a large box made of starch plastic. ¡°Ah!¡± cried Frank, running over to meet it. ¡°It''s here!¡±


    ¡°What''s here?¡± asked Desmond, following behind him.


    ¡°Something we brought with us from Wilson''s. Something to tempt Eddie with. I¡¯m afraid only company employees can see what it is. The rest of you...¡± He shrugged apologetically.


    ¡°We understand,¡± said Jasmine. ¡°Right, Des?¡±


    The african nodded reluctantly. Alice took his hand and gave it a squeeze, then kissed him on the cheek. Desmond then went to the blanket to take charge of the children with Jasmine while Stuart went over go fetch James, who tossed town his drink. Frank then took the autoporter across to where an outcrop of rock reached out towards the water followed by Eddie, the project members and the two casually dressed men.


    ¡°Private security guards,¡± said Ben to Eddie in a low voice. ¡°Out of uniform so as not to attract attention. Can''t take the risk of someone running off with our treasure, not that there''s really much danger of that in this age of the ubiquitous camera. There is a slight danger that a corporation might have gotten wind of what we¡¯re doing, though, so a few precautions are prudent.¡±


    Frank stopped the machine a couple of hundred metres away and the security guards moved to a discrete distance, waiting for when they''d be called upon to escort the autoporter back to the hotel. ¡°Are we far enough away?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°The others can still see us.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. All they''ll see is us weighing ourselves on a pair of scales.¡±


    He grinned, and Eddie looked across at Ben, who also grinned. Dammit, thought Eddie. Andrew was right. They are going to play some kind of trick on me! He made up his mind not to allow himself to be fooled by some elaborate sleight of hand. Take everything with a pinch of salt, he warned himself. Maybe pretend to be fooled, to go along with the joke, but remember that that¡¯s probably what it is. A joke. A prank. He smiled back at the other two men as Frank opened the box and took out a pair of scales.


    He placed it on the flat, level surface of a boulder almost completely buried in the sand and stood on it. ¡°Almost accurate,¡± he said. ¡°It says I''m a couple of kilos heavier than I really am.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure it''s the scales that are at fault,¡± said Jessica with a pitying smile.


    Frank gave her a smile of pure innocence as he stepped off. ¡°Come on, Eddie. Your turn.¡±


    Eddie stared around at the others, then shrugged and stepped onto the small device. ¡°Seventy five kilos,¡± he said. ¡°That''s about right.¡± He stepped off again and stared at the others expectantly. Now what?


    Ben and Frank went over to the box and peered in. After a moment, Eddie followed. None of the others made a move to stop him. Inside the box was a mid sized fuel cell of the kind that most cars used. Frank was plugging a thick power cable into it. Next to the fuel cell was another box. Ben opened it, and inside was a gadget that seemed to have been cobbled together from bits and pieces of other devices. Eddie saw several micro circuitry crystals from phone and tablets connected together by wires to form some kind of networked device along with blocks and slabs of a grey material held together by elements from a child''s construction set. In the centre of it all was a tupperware food container in which holes had been drilled to allow electrical cables to enter. It also had a socket into which Frank plugged the other end of the power cable. ¡°All set,¡± he said.


    ¡°Okay,¡¯ said Ben. ¡°Take it over to the rock.¡±


    Frank nodded and drove the autoporter over to where the scales still sat. ¡°That close enough?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Should be,¡± the other man said. ¡°Turn it on.¡±


    Eddie noticed that everyone else was backing away from the device, which was a little worrying. He found himself backing away too, while cursing himself for being taken in by the theatrics. Frank reached in, and a loud hum began to come from the box. ¡°There we go,¡± he said. ¡°We''ve got about half an hour before the cell¡¯s empty.¡±


    ¡°That cell''ll drive a car from Land¡¯s End to John O¡¯Groats!¡± exclaimed Eddie.


    ¡°The device takes a lot of power,¡± replied Frank.


    ¡°Anything that uses that much power would melt the box.¡±


    ¡°Most of the power goes... Elsewhere,¡± said Ben. To Eddie''s surprise, he wasn''t smiling. Instead, there was a serious, almost worried look on his face. He stared at the box as if it might explode at any moment.


    ¡°Where?¡± asked Eddie.


    ¡°We''re not quite sure. Would you like to weigh yourself again?¡±


    Eddie stared in astonishment. It was obvious that they expected the scales to show a different weight. ¡°You''ve tampered with the scales,¡± he accused.


    ¡°We haven''t. We can repeat the demonstration another time with any piece of weighing equipment you like. Even a weight balance if you like. One end inside the area of effect, the other end outside. We can do it as many times as you like, in a location of your choosing, in case you think we¡¯ve buried something under the boulder. What''s important is that you believe that the effect is real.¡±


    Frank gestured towards the scales. ¡°Go ahead,¡± he said. ¡°Weigh yourself.¡±


    Eddie stared around at the others. They were all staring soberly back at him. Oh well, he thought. Let''s get it over with. He took a couple of steps towards the scales...


    He froze as a strange feeling came over him. ¡°What''s that?¡± he cried in alarm, jumping back. The feeling stopped.


    ¡°It was all the organs in your body suddenly weighing less,¡± said Ben. ¡°That''s what the device does, it reduces mass. We call it a mass dampener.¡±


    ¡°That''s not possible!¡± The others just stared silently back at him. ¡°It¡¯s not! There''s not even a theoretical basis for such a thing!¡±


    ¡°Stand on the scales,¡± repeated Frank.


    Eddie took a deep breath, then stepped forward again. The strange feeling returned. ¡°This isn''t doing something nasty to my body, is It? Giving me cancer or something.¡±


    ¡°None of the lab animals were affected. It seems to be perfectly harmless.¡±


    ¡°Seems? Well that¡¯s reassuring.¡± The others just continued to stare at him, so he continued to walk forward. He reached the rock and stepped onto the scales. Numbers flashed across the display, rising and falling. When they settled down they read seventeen point nine kilos.


    He stepped off the scales, then stepped onto them again. Same result, and the same when he did it a third time. He stared at the others, they stared back. He looked around and saw a small rock lying half buried in the sand a short distance away. He ran over to it, the sand hot under his bare feet, and picked it up. It was heavy, too heavy to hold in one hand. Perfect. He trotted back to the edge of the machine''s area of effect, where he stopped. Then, feeling the weight of the rock in his hands, he stepped forward.


    He almost dropped the rock in astonishment. It was dramatically less heavy! He could hold it in one hand easily! He stepped backwards and the rock''s full weight returned. He had to hurriedly add his other hand to the rock to avoid dropping it. He forced his face to show no expression.


    The important thing to remember, he told himself, is that it''s a trick. He remembered seeing stage magicians on television doing things that seemed impossible, and they admitted that it was all a trick. The rules of the Magic Circle were that no technology could be used. No magnetic fields to create levitation. No sonic vibrations. No exotic materials. Everything had to be done with sleight of hand and optical illusion, and even with those limitations they did things that seemed to defy explanation. How much more amazing would their tricks be if they did allow themselves to use any technology they liked?


    But he could feel that the rock was lighter! That was no trick. It really did feel lighter. No, he insisted to himself. It''s a trick. The rock has a core of iron inside, and there are huge magnets hidden under the sand. They prepared the area before he came. They left the rock there and somehow manipulated him into taking it, the way a magician can manipulate someone into choosing a particular card from a deck.


    Okay, he thought. Let''s try something that can''t possibly have a core of iron inside it. He dropped the rock and walked over to Alice, the smallest of the three women present. ¡°With your permission?¡± he said, holding out his arms in a picking up gesture.


    She grinned in delight. ¡°Of course!¡± she said, walking forward into his arms.


    He put an arm under her legs and picked her up. Her brown skin felt delightful against his own and he suddenly found himself wondering whether Desmond was watching. What would he be thinking if he could see them now? I¡¯m only holding her, he told himself. It''s not as if we¡¯re kissing or something. Even so, he suddenly found himself wanting to put her down again as soon as possible, and so he hurriedly carried her over to the device.


    Like the rock, she felt lighter the moment he entered its area of effect. He turned his head and found her grinning at him. ¡°We call it the Wetherby diet,¡± she said.


    Like the rock, he carried her into and out of the area of effect a couple of times, feeling her weigh more, then less, then put her down again. That had to be the clincher, didn''t it? How could that possibly be faked? He walked back to the device and stared down at it in awe. The others came over to gather around them, close enough for him to feel the warmth of their bodies even in the hot Caribbean sun. The device was smoking, he saw, and Frank disconnected it hurriedly. ¡°We''ve still got a bit of work to do on it,¡± he admitted with a grin. He was beaming with pleasure and pride, like a father whose child had just won an Olympic gold medal.


    ¡°You invented this?¡± said Eddie, his whole body trembling with shock and awe.


    ¡°We reverse engineered it,¡± said Ben.


    Eddie''s stomach dropped like a ton of bricks. He felt a shock of shame and anger and felt his face growing red with embarrassment. The knowledge of his nakedness came back to him with a strength that almost made him run back to where he¡¯d left his swimming trunks, to dress himself before they all laughed at him. He''d been so close to believing them! He felt such a fool! Such an amazing idiot!


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± he said, and he could hear the tremble in his voice. ¡°The Tadcaster UFO. Right?¡±


    ¡°That''s precisely correct,¡± said Ben.

 Chapter Nine

    The look on Eddie''s face clearly gave away his disbelief. ¡°Remember the rock!¡± said Ben hurriedly. ¡°Remember Alice! That was a real effect, right?¡±


    ¡°You seriously expect me to believe...¡± Eddie couldn''t continue. He began to stride away, fully intending to return to the hotel, collect his belongings and return to England without another word to the others. Ben and Frank grabbed an arm each, though, to stop him. ¡°Let me go!¡± he protested.


    ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± insisted Ben. ¡°I swear It! I meant what I said earlier. You can repeat the experiment any time you like. In another place, if you think we¡¯ve set something up here. You can use your own equipment, anything you like. Do whatever you need to do to prove to yourself that the effect is real.¡±


    ¡°Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence,¡± said Eddie. He was beginning to calm down, though, as he remembered what he¡¯d promised himself earlier. Go along with the joke. If it is a game, then play the game with them. Join in the fun.


    ¡°I was sceptical as well, at first,¡± said Frank. ¡°You''ve no idea what it took to convince me, and that was before they had a working prototype to demonstrate.¡±


    ¡°Frank himself is the genius behind this little miracle,¡± said Ben, pointing down at the device which was still smoking gently. ¡°In the three years since he joined us, we¡¯ve made more progress than we did in the thirty years before. Our own technology is finally reaching the point where we can begin to make sense of theirs.¡±


    ¡°Theirs is still way more advanced, of course,¡± added Frank. ¡°The alien device this thing is based on is about the size of a walnut, and it could reduce the mass of a thousand ton spaceship to almost nothing. To the point that an ion drive the size of a wristwatch could accelerate it close to the speed of light in seconds.¡±


    ¡°You see, now I know this is all a joke,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°The reaction mass couldn¡¯t propel the ship if its mass was also reduced.¡±


    ¡°The ion drives, six of them, could be extended on long poles until they were outside the mass dampener''s area of effect,¡± said Ben. ¡°The fuel regained its full mass as it travelled along the fuel lines towards them. We call them ion drives, but they¡¯re nothing like the engines we put on satellites. They worked by propelling ionised gas, like ours, but they achieved exhaust velocities of almost the speed of light and we don¡¯t have a clue how they did it. That''s why we need you.¡±


    ¡°Think about It!¡± said Frank. ¡°The device we¡¯re already got will revolutionise space travel. The cost of launching satellites could be halved with what we¡¯ve got right now. That space elevator the Chinese keep talking about building is already obsolete. With a few improvements it''ll open up the whole solar system! Add the alien ion drives and we can go to the stars!¡±


    ¡°So you can see what''s at stake here,¡± said Ben. ¡°Tell us what it¡¯ll take to convince you. Anything at all. We''ll go anywhere in the world, a place chosen by you where we can''t possibly have prepared anything. Use equipment chosen by you that we can¡¯t possibly have tampered with. Just tell us what you need.¡±


    Eddie hesitated. The rock''s reduction in mass had been so dramatic, and so had Alice''s weight. How could Alice''s reduction in weight have been faked? Suppose he wanted to pull a trick like this, to fool someone. How would he do it? He paced back and forth across the sand, his mind in a turmoil. There was no trace of humour in any of the people gathered around him, as there surely would be if they were playing a trick on him. Even if they were trying to keep straight faces, there would be something, wouldn¡¯t there? Some subtle giveaway in their faces or their body language. As he looked from one person to another, though, there was nothing. He supposed it was possible that they were just superbly good actors. Actors that good did exist, he knew, but these were all world renowned scientists, people with careers and reputations. One world class scientist might also be a great actor, but nine?


    ¡°Who¡¯s in on this?¡± he asked. ¡°The British government is funding this holiday, you said. Is it just them?¡±


    ¡°Other governments are involved,¡± said Ben. ¡°We can keep the truth from the general public by passing off the occasional inevitable leak as a hoax or an urban legend, that¡¯s how the Tadcaster UFO thing got started, but governments are harder to fool. They study where other governments are spending money, and there''s far too much money being spent to hide. The USA found out, and the Europeans and the Chinese. The three big world governments. Nobody else, though. Britain wouldn¡¯t be involved if the thing hadn''t been discovered in the UK.¡±


    ¡°Lucky us,¡± said Eddie drily. ¡°So, what exactly have you got? An actual alien spaceship?¡±


    ¡°An actual alien spaceship,¡± confirmed Ben. ¡°Three hundred million years old, found a hundred years ago buried in a seam of coal beneath the Yorkshire town of Tadcaster. The British government sealed off the whole mine and sent a group of experts down to look at it. Around the turn of the century the whole thing was moved, in great secrecy, to Wetherby where they had the facilities to study it properly. We and our predecessors have been studying it ever since.¡±


    ¡°What kind of condition is it in? I would imagine that, after three hundred million years, there''s not much of it left.¡±


    ¡°So far as we can tell, it¡¯s completely intact. It seems to be made out of materials that are impervious to the passage of time.¡±


    Eddie found his scepticism rising again and forced it down again. Got along with the joke, he reminded himself. Pretend to believe it. He looked at the device again. Could it really be what they claimed it to be? A device that could neutralise part or all of an object''s mass? Maybe they''d invented the thing and were just pretending it had come from an alien spaceship, but why would they do such a thing? To use such a momentous invention to play such a trivial joke... No, ridiculous! Either it was all real or none of it was.


    Astronomers had long since come to the conclusion that mankind was alone in the galaxy. Decades of searching using ever more powerful and sensitive equipment had found nothing. That was a count against Ben''s extraordinary claim, or was it? Three hundred million years was a long time, even in geological terms. Perhaps that was the interval between the rise of successive civilisations in this part of the universe. Just once every few hundred million years. That somehow felt right to Eddie. If alien civilisations were more common than that, there would have been some sign of them. Alien devices found on the moon for example, where nothing changed for millions of years at a time, where even the footprints of the Apollo and Qianfeng astronauts would endure for aeons to come. That would mean that mankind was alone in the universe, unless one looked in other galaxies, millions of light years away. A civilisation near to earth, three hundred million years ago, was plausible then, if looked at in that way.


    ¡°Did you find any bodies aboard?¡± he asked. ¡°Any remains of the crew?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Ben. ¡°We speculate that the ship got into some kind of trouble and was forced to make an emergency landing in a swamp. The crew abandoned ship, perhaps, and were picked up by a rescue craft, or perhaps they lived the rest of their lives as castaways here on Earth. We could make up stories all day and it would all be nothing but guesswork.¡±


    ¡°They seemed to have been larger than us,¡± said Frank. ¡°Unless they hated confined spaces. They were as wide as they were tall, they breathed oxygen and drank water. That''s all we know. That''s all we may ever know.¡±


    ¡°So no Captain''s log? No alien face on a display screen making the last entry, telling us what happened?¡±


    Frank laughed. ¡°After three hundred million years? We''ve found what seem to have been their version of computers, but all information content has long since been lost to thermal randomization. No operating system, no data at all. All we have is the hardware.¡±


    ¡°But the mass dampener was intact enough for you to figure out how it worked?¡±


    ¡°There were three of them, for redundancy, I suppose. They, our predecessors, cut one open to see how it worked, which never sat right with me. It always reminded me of something Gandalf said, in The Lord of the Rings. Someone who destroys a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom. It worked, though. They, and we after them, learned enough to allow us to create this working prototype.¡±


    ¡°What about the other two? Are they still intact?¡±


    ¡°So far as I know. Our predecessors left them alone in case some future technology allowed us to probe their interiors without damaging them, but since then the Americans took one to study and the Chinese took the other. We''ve heard nothing about either since.¡±


    ¡°Do they still work? I mean, if you put power through them, do they still reduce mass?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes!¡± said Ben. ¡°All three of them worked. Our one worked before they cut it open to figure out how it worked. Also, they used almost no power. They could reduce the mass of a thousand ton lump of granite low enough to be unmeasurable using the power of a watch battery. You''ve seen how much power our prototype uses in comparison.¡±


    ¡°The Chinese and the Americans must be tempted to use theirs to launch stuff,¡± mused Eddie. ¡°If they can¡¯t learn anything from just studying them and they don''t want to destroy their only working example like you did... Did you share your breakthrough with them? Do they know how your prototype works?¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Of course,¡± said Ben. ¡°They''re full partners in the project. They must have their own prototypes by now.¡±


    ¡°So there''s no need for them to cut theirs open. So why not use them to launch stuff? The American and Chinese governments could use them to send up all kinds of secret military stuff with none of the giveaway pillars of fire you normally get under a launch vehicle. They could launch spacecraft the size of cruise liners from secret military bases in the middle of the night and no-one would ever know."


    "The devices are way too valuable to risk anything happening to them. It''s not just their ability to reduce mass that makes them valuable. It''s how they do It. We think some of the components are made of coherent matter. If we could figure out how to make that stuff...¡±


    ¡°Coherent matter!¡± said Eddie, staring at him. ¡°It''s really possible then? I though that was just a blue sky theory. It''s really possible?¡±


    He was beginning to believe them, he realised. He was beginning to trust them. The fact that they were all naked was probably partially responsible for that, he knew. It was a trick that had been used for thousands of years and that was still used today by armies and sporting teams, among others. If you need to get a group of people to bond together, to form a team bound together by trust, find some excuse to get them all naked together. He didn''t doubt that Ben had picked Martinique for this little get together precisely so that he could make use of the technique, but even knowing that didn''t prevent it from working. He was beginning to trust these people. To believe that they were telling the truth.


    ¡°You need some time for all of this to sink in,¡± said Ben. ¡°It''s too much, all in one go, I know. You need to think about it for a bit, sort it all out in your mind. Why don''t we go back to the others, play some more volleyball or just lie in the sun.¡±


    Eddie nodded. Everything they''d told him was swirling around in his head. It needed time to settle down.


    ¡°But please,¡± added Ben. ¡°Not another word about this to the others, okay? They''re not cleared for this, no matter how much we love them. We have to keep this just between ourselves. We''ll talk about it again the next time we can get together on our own.¡±


    ¡°I understand. It must be hard, though. Not being able to share it with them.¡±


    ¡°They understand. We''re no different from anyone else working on a highly sensitive project. People in the army or the intelligence industries for example. The world''s full of people who have to keep secrets from their loved ones. They know there''s stuff we¡¯re not telling them. They understand and accept it. It''s just that the secrets we¡¯re keeping from them aren''t the secrets they think we¡¯re keeping from them.¡±


    ¡°And what would happen if I went to the press with all this?¡±


    ¡°We''d deny it and call you a madman. You¡¯ve got no proof. They''d think it was the ravings of a lunatic. You''re not going to, though, are you? You know what would happen if you did manage to convince the general public. The effect it would have. An awful lot of people would refuse to believe that the aliens were all long dead, their civilisation vanished. Research and development costs billions. Developing a new superconductor or a new processor crystal is a major investment for a company. Nobody''s going to want to make that kind of investment if they think a bunch of benevolent aliens is about to turn up, willing to share their advanced technology with us. Technological advance all across the world could grind to a halt. And then there are all the people who would think an alien invasion was on its way. Not to mention the religious and social ramifications. The whole world would be thrown into chaos.¡±


    Eddie nodded. In an age of technological miracles, it was easy to forget that most people were idiots.


    ¡°Take this back, will you, Guys?¡± said Frank, beckoning the security guards back over.


    Ben placed the scales back in the box, and then the two guards drove the autoporter back to the hotel. Eddie, his head a buzzing whirl of new facts and possibilities, then followed the other scientists as they strolled back along the beach to where they¡¯d left the other members of their families.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°They want to borrow Copernicus!¡± said John Paul in outrage.


    Samantha looked up from her tablet. ¡°What?¡± she said. She was sitting with the device on her lap, using the virtual keyboard to type the first draft of a paper she intended to send to the Space Science Reviews, a journal that had published several of her papers in the past. They had been waiting for her paper on the Hortensius volcano for months, but they were going to have to wait a little longer because there was data still to come in and she wanted to make the case as airtight as possible. Her excitement at the results she¡¯d gotten so far was so great, though, that she had to get it out of her system and onto a page of text or she''d just explode! She saved what she''d written so far so she could give her colleague her full attention.


    ¡°The Frenchman jabbed a finger at the email on his phone. ¡°The government¡¯s demanding Copernicus¡¯s control codes! They want to take control away from us!¡±


    Samantha frowned and got up from her seat, going over to look over John Paul''s shoulder. The Frenchman handed her his phone and she squinted down at the tiny text. ¡°This can''t be right,¡± she said. ¡°Does Neil know about this?¡±


    ¡°If he doesn''t, he''s about to. I can''t hand over the control codes without his authorisation anyway. He''ll never allow this. We''re right in the middle of the Procellarum survey.¡± He took the phone back and called Neil''s number. ¡°What could they possibly want with Copernicus anyway? Do they want to spy on the Chinese lab or something?¡±


    ¡°Maybe the Chinese left something up there. Something other than just remote operated scientific equipment. I''ve always wondered if they had some more sinister reason for going up there than...¡±


    John Paul was holding his hand up for silence, though. ¡°Neil! Do you know anything about this? The President¡¯s demanding we hand Copernicus¡¯ control codes over to...¡± He paused while he listened. ¡°Yes, she''s right here,¡± he said, looking over at Samantha. ¡°Right.¡± He then disconnected the call.


    ¡°He wants to talk to both of us,¡± he said, rising from his seat to turn on the Bullpen¡¯s main display monitor; a two hundred centimetre screen mounted on the wall opposite a row of comfy seats. Samantha sat in the chair she usually used, sitting upright, unable to relax with the tension that suddenly filled her body. John Paul called up the videophone function, entered Neil''s number, and a moment later an image of their department head filled the screen, looking out at them. Behind him was a view of his living room with a large picture window looking out across a well maintained garden. A golden retriever was lying on the carpet in front of an electric heater disguised as a log fire. The dog looked around at its master curiously, then lowered its head back down onto the carpet and closed its eyes.


    ¡°Sam, John Paul,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I literally only heard about it just a few minutes ago. Nina called me. They need to borrow Copernicus for a little while, to check out a potential threat to the Earth.¡±


    ¡°An asteroid?¡± said Samantha. ¡°They¡¯ve got the Earth Defence Network for that. Copernicus is a ground survey satellite.¡±


    ¡°They need the ground camera. It makes a basic kind of telescope at full magnification, and that''s all they need. It''s its position, you see. Four hundred thousand klicks away. They need to make some parallax observations.¡±


    ¡°Of what?¡±


    ¡°There''s something happening in the asteroid belt. A whole bunch of asteroids are out of position, as if something massive has perturbed them with its gravity. Whatever it is seems to be heading in our direction. They want to calculate its trajectory by observing the precise motions of all the asteroids it¡¯s disturbed, and they can do that faster if they have observations in three dimensions. Time is of the essence, you see. Whatever it is has already passed through the asteroid belt, We¡¯re seeing the after effects of its passage. It could be very close already.¡±


    ¡°Why not just observe it directly?¡± asked John Paul.


    ¡°Because it¡¯s invisible. Nothing shows up, even in the very best images.¡± He paused for effect. ¡°It seems to be coming from the direction of Sagittarius.¡±


    Both the other astronomers gasped. ¡°Another Scatter Cloud?¡± said Samantha.


    ¡°That''s what we need to find out. The first Scatter Cloud passed by the Earth at a tangent to its orbit, which means that, even though our planet has moved on in its orbit, if the second cloud is following the same course, it''ll also pass us close by. And, to judge from the chaos it¡¯s caused among the asteroids, it seems to be quite substantially more massive. Over ten times more massive at least.¡±


    ¡°Merde!¡± said John Paul, his face pale.


    ¡°So give them the control codes. They''ll return control of Copernicus to you in a couple of days. No longer than that. I realise that''ll muck up the Procellarum survey...¡±


    ¡°No, no, of course,¡± said Samantha, though. ¡°We''ll do it right away. Right, John?¡±


    ¡±Right,¡± agreed the Frenchman. ¡°The email didn''t say any of this. Just a curt demand that we hand it over to them. If they''d just explained...¡±


    ¡°Well, you know now. And not a word of this to anyone. Right? We don''t want a panic. The world¡¯s only just recovering from the first one.¡±


    ¡°Not a word,¡± agreed Samantha. ¡°Shit! Two Scatter Clouds? Following the same path? You think someone''s got it in for us?¡±


    Neil smiled. ¡°You mean hostile aliens? Or a vengeful God? Or space gremlins? The universe isn''t hostile, Sam. Just indifferent. The Universe is full of peril. Asteroids, supernovae. Close encounters with other stars. The miracle is that our planet has remained untouched for over four billion years.¡±


    Samantha nodded. ¡°You coming in?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Just as quick as my car can get me there. See you in a couple of hours. I know there¡¯s not much I can do there, but I just feel I need to be there! You know?"


    ¡°Will we see the data as it comes in?¡± asked John Paul.


    ¡°No-one can stop you getting the Copernicus data...¡±


    ¡°I meant the whole data. From everything. The EDN, ground telescopes, everything. We can run the data on the Acorn and compare it with what they come up with.¡±


    ¡°As the owner of one of the contributing instruments, I''m sure they''ll include us in the data feed as a matter of courtesy, so long as we observe the rules of disclosure. You know how the Acorn compares with the ESA mainframe, though. Sandra''s done a marvellous job on it and it¡¯s ideal for what we use it for, but it¡¯s no Barrington.¡± John Paul nodded, looking a little happier.


    ¡°See you soon, then.¡± Neil leaned forward to touch a control and the screen went dark.


    Sam turned to John Paul. ¡°Send the codes, John.¡±


    He nodded and went back to his workstation. ¡°Ten times bigger! Merde! The satellites they were able to save are all low on fuel now. The Mule¡¯s going from one to another, refuelling them, but it''ll take months to do them all, and they''ll be scattered much worse this time. We could lose pretty much everything we''ve got up there!¡±


    ¡°Let''s not get ahead of ourselves. The first one, the centre of it passed by a hundred thousand klicks above the earth. The next one, if it is a Scatter Cloud, might pass by outside the moon''s orbit. We won''t even know it¡¯s there.¡±


    ¡°And what if it hits the earth? Something with a total mass ten percent that of the moon...¡±


    ¡°The earth is a tiny target compared to the spaces between the planets. A direct impact is extremely unlikely.¡±


    ¡°The first cloud was a hundred thousand klicks across. It''s a lot easier to hit something with a shotgun than a rifle, and even the outer fringes of it could be devastating. Each component particle of the first cloud was about five millimetres across and weighed over a thousand tonnes. If we¡¯re peppered even by just a few of them...¡±


    ¡°Let''s worry when we''ve got something to worry about. It''s not as though we can do anything about it anyway. If that thing''s coming at us, the only thing we can do is make peace with the fact as best we can.¡±


    The Frenchman nodded soberly. ¡°If we¡¯re all going to die, I don''t think I''d want to know! Oh well...¡±


    He took the phone from his pocket and called the European Space Agency. Samantha heard him asking for Nina Doyle as she got up and left, her half written paper forgotten. All of a sudden, she felt an urgent need to be with her daughter.

 Chapter Ten

    Her car, a bright pink Toyota Regal, came to meet her by the door. The door opened as she approached and Samantha settled herself into the drivers seat. ¡°Home, Parker,¡± she said in her best aristocratic voice.


    ¡°Yes M¡¯lady,¡± said the plummey British voice from the dashboard and the car moved smoothly forward. Samantha would much rather have been in the back, to assist the fantasy that she was being driven by a human chauffeur, but the law still required that drivers sat in the drivers seat, where they could reach the controls in case of emergency.


    As they left the university grounds and entered the traffic of the main road, she thought fondly back to the time, over twenty years before, when an uncle had given her brother the boxed set of an ancient television adventure series played by puppets for his birthday. Harry hadn¡¯t thought much of them, but Samantha had fallen instantly in love with it, and particularly with the aristocratic lady secret agent who was driven around in a pink Rolls Royce by her manservant, Parker. She¡¯d acquired the voice print of the actor who''d played him and had used it for the verbal interface of every gadget she''d owned since.


    ¡°I regret to hinform you, M¡¯lady, that there happears to be a problem with the traffic hinformation service,¡± the car informed her as it sped away from the centre of Bristol. ¡°I cannot be sure that the road ahead is clear.¡±


    ¡°That''s alright, Parker. We''ll just have to take our chances.¡± The traffic information system, like so many other things, was dependent on satellites to deliver information from the cameras and road sensors all across the country to the central assimilation centre, and from there to all the vehicles using the roads. It was considered a low priority system, and so had been sacrificed so that more important satellites could be saved. The result, though, was that the roads had been thrown into a chaos that hadn''t been known since the early decades of the century, and sure enough the car was soon forced to slow to a crawl as the road became congested ahead of them.


    Their progress was slowed even more as the car kept stopping to allow vehicles from side roads to enter ahead of them. Their selfishness was set too low, she realised. Everyone else had it set to maximum so that their cars forced their way in front of more considerate drivers. That wouldn¡¯t do. Being nice was no good if everyone else just took advantage of it. ¡°I think we need to take a more aggressive attitude to our journey, Parker,¡± she said, therefore.


    ¡°The machine gun, M''lady?¡± That was the code phrase she''d programmed in to mean that they would raise their selfishness to its maximum setting.


    ¡°The machine gun, Parker,¡± said Samantha, confirming the command. The car accelerated a little, closing the distance to the car in front, preventing others from pushing in. Someone honked a horn at them and she smiled to herself. Up yours, Mister! she thought with satisfaction.


    The slow progress they were making was a reminder of the calamity that had so recently hit the world, though, and of the potentially far greater one that might be coming. Passing a row of shops, she saw queues of people lined up outside them, the people complaining loudly and angrily to each other, probably about the scarcity of food and how high prices had become. Things had been affected that almost nobody knew was reliant on satellites, and the combined GPS systems in particular. Trade all across the world had been hit hard, and although people would do little more than grumble if the delivery of their new car or Virt system was delayed, the delivery of food from Europe and the Americas was another matter. Some goods had actually been rationed, and all the promises by the politicians that the shops would be full again very soon did little to reassure a fearful public.


    And if there was indeed a second, much larger Scatter Cloud on its way, things could soon be getting much worse. Maybe end of the world bad. On the other hand, if the very worst case scenario didn¡¯t come to pass, maybe civilisation would collapse with survivors crawling around in the ruins. If that happened, she had to make sure that she and her daughter were among those survivors. ¡°I think we need to do a little shopping, Parker,¡± she said, therefore.


    ¡°This week¡¯s groceries were delivered just Tuesday, M¡¯lady.¡±


    ¡°Yes Parker, but we need more. Take the weekly shopping list and remove everything that¡¯s perishable. Keep only the frozen and tinned goods.¡±


    ¡°Very good, M''lady.¡±


    ¡°Now double the quantity of everything on the list. No, triple it. Hmm. And add twenty litres of bottled water. Label it the Apocalypse grocery list.¡±


    ¡°Yes, M''lady.¡±


    ¡°Now place that order with a dozen different retailers, with a repeat order for next week. Oh, and better order a chest freezer from Ellen¡¯s. And a generator. A five hundred kWh solar dissociator.¡±


    ¡°Let us hope that the freezer harrives before the frozen goods, M''lady,¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± said Samantha, while wondering whether it was necessary for self drive cars to be quite so intelligent. She''d noticed that Parker had developed something of a sense of humour lately.


    ¡°I am sorry to report, M''lady, that only three of the retailers in the local area are haccepting new orders at the moment. Goods are in short supply, and they happear to be favouring their regular customers.¡±


    ¡°Try retailers further afield, then.¡± There was no point having advance warning of the Apocalypse if she couldn¡¯t take advantage of it. She intended to stock up with what she and Lily would need to survive. She only regretted that firearms were almost impossible to acquire this side of the Atlantic. The thought that she might need them sent a shiver down her spine, but if it became a question of saving her daughter or her civilised values, it would be an easy choice to make.


    It was possible that her neighbours would see all the groceries being delivered to her house, she reflected. The sight of Donald, her household robot, coming out to pick up tray after tray of goods in its forklift hands might well attract attention, and they would remember when civilisation collapsed. She could find herself coming under siege by starving neighbours desperate to feed their own children. If that happened, though, all the guns in the world wouldn¡¯t save her. When people became desperate enough, they would risk the gunfire to get what they wanted, and then it was only a matter of time before she ran out of ammunition. She just had to hope that the deliveries went unnoticed, or at least were quickly forgotten among the other urgent matters of the day. Then, when it all went down, she and Lily would just remain indoors, out of sight, making their supplies last as long as possible while everyone else fought each other for the scraps. It would be incredibly selfish of her, she realised. She could remember a time when she would never have dreamt of doing such a thing, but she had a daughter to take care of now and everything else took second place to that. Absolutely everything else!


    ¡°I have found two more retailers willing to take the horder, M''lady. The total bill comes to two thousand five hundred and sixty three pounds, twenty pence. That is considerably more than you have in your bank haccount, M''lady.¡±


    ¡°It''ll just have to go on the credit card, Parker.¡±


    ¡°Yes, M''lady. There is a selection of freezers and generators on the market, M''lady. If you select the cheapest of them, the total bill comes to over five thousand pounds.¡±


    ¡°Choose the most reliable models, Parker. Based on customer reviews. Regardless of cost. Contact my bank and take out a loan to cover the cost.¡±


    ¡°Yes, M''lady.¡± If the Apocalypse came, she would never have to repay that loan. And if it didn''t come, if it all turned out to be a false alarm, then her only worry would be a huge debt that she had to repay somehow. She would cross that bridge when she came to it.


    If the Apocalypse really was coming, it was annoying that it was coming just as the world finally seemed to be getting its shit together, she mused. Wars were virtually unknown now. The global economy was so interlinked that no matter what country you might want to go to war with, people in your country owned stuff in theirs and people in their country owned stuff in yours so that, even when one country was vastly larger and more powerful than the other, a war between them would do more damage to their economies than anything the larger country might possibly gain from it. All countries had begun reducing the size of their armed forces, therefore, even the United States with their famous obsession with weaponry of all kinds, and the entire global arms industry had gone into decline. Only a handful of companies like Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman and Wilson¡¯s were still doing serious weapons research, and even the wealthiest countries were using the same ships and aircraft they''d been using for the past fifty years.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    As the superpowers had stopped bombing third world countries, the hatred of the latter for the former had gradually begun to subside and terrorist attacks had all but ceased. Prosperity was coming even to those countries that had once been the most poverty stricken, and fundamentalist attitudes in all religions were beginning to subside. Pollution had fallen to nineteenth century levels as industries cleaned themselves up and more and more goods and materials were recycled, and the population was finally showing signs of stabilising at around nine billion. The world could feed itself, and species once under threat of extinction were coming back from the brink.


    There were still problems, of course. The world was heating up, even though the use of fossil fuels had all but ended. Sea levels were rising, with all coastal cities suffering as a result. Extremes of weather were more common and storms were more violent as the warmer atmosphere was able to hold more water. Finally, there seemed to be a global increase in right wing politics and an intolerance towards minorities, although political commentators seemed to think that this was just a short term trend and that it would sort itself out in time.


    All in all, therefore, this seemed to be a bad time to be having an apocalypse. Probably it won''t happen, she told herself as her car drove itself out of the city centre and into the suburbs. If something mysterious was passing through the solar system, it would probably pass far enough away from the Earth that the vast majority of people would never know anything about it, and if it was the end of everything, then at least humanity was going out on an upward beat as if to say to the Universe see? We¡¯re not so bad after all.


    The sight of the people of Bristol going about their normal lives began to give her a strange feeling of nostalgia, as if the world had already ended and the windows of her car were television screens showing a way of life that was already over. She saw children in sports clothing chasing a football across a frozen field in which patches of last week''s snow could still be seen. For a moment the crazy notion came over her to stop the car and help them in some way. What could she do, though? Tell them to hoard food as well? Tell them to get out of the city and find a farmhouse to live in while the cities convulsed in their death spasms? The brutal fact was, though, that to give herself and her daughter the best possible chance, the aftermath had to settle down again as fast as possible, and for that to happen, the great bulk of humanity, including those children, had to die as fast as possible. A wave of guilt and shame washed over her, and she forced it down with an effort. It won''t happen, she told herself. I''m just a stupid woman getting all worked up over nothing. There may not be another Scatter Cloud, and even if there is, it probably won''t come anywhere near us. I''m just taking some prudent precautions. It helped, and she was able to push the guilt to the back of her mind, but she still found it painful to look at the children, playing innocently and happily in their field.


    The trip home seemed to take far longer than it normally did, but eventually the garage door was opening and the car was easing itself inside. ¡°Thank you, Parker,¡± she said as she undid her seat belt. ¡°You may take the rest of the day off.¡± That was the phrase that told the car to power itself down for the night, but the humorous phrase now felt stupid and ridiculous and for a moment she thought about wiping the voice interface and restoring it to its factory settings. To have humorous exchanges with her car while the world might be on the brink of disaster, with thousands of children about to die... No!  she told herself angrily. Stop getting upset and emotional! There is no disaster coming! Now get a grip on yourself!


    She barely heard the car responding in its fake aristocratic voice. She got out, the door closing behind her, paused a moment to make sure it locked itself, and then went through the door into the main part of the house. She found Lily and Tracy, the babysitter, in the living room watching cartoons together. Tracy, a neighbour with no children of her own yet, working for some extra housekeeping money, had picked the girl up from school an hour before, as she did every day.


    ¡°Mummy!¡± cried the girl joyously, jumping out of Tracy''s lap and running over to throw her arms around her mother. Sam hugged her back, a sudden deep, powerful love welling up inside her. The feel of her daughter¡¯s small, warm body, the smell of her hair, filled her awareness, driving away everything else. She forgot where she was, she forgot who she was. All she knew in that moment was that her daughter was safe. Safe and healthy and happy. She tightened her arms around the small girl, lowered her face to kiss the top of her head. She was safe! Her daughter was safe!


    ¡°Is everything alright, Sam?¡± asked Tracy, and Samantha was brought back to normality with a bump. Lily was staring up into her face as if she too was surprised by the intensity of her greeting.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she laughed, letting go of her daughter but keeping an arm around her shoulders. ¡°Hard day at work, that¡¯s all. Good to be home. How''s your day been, Lily?¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± the girl replied. ¡°Mrs Alabaster was off sick. We had Mrs Bentley instead.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Well I hope Mrs Alabaster gets better very soon. I''ll go upstairs and get changed, and then we''ll have some dinner. What do you want today?¡±


    The little girl''s face screwed up with intense thought. ¡°Chips!¡± she said at last.


    ¡°And what would you like with your chips?¡±


    ¡°Sausages!¡±


    ¡°Okay, chips and sausages it is.¡± She looked up at the babysitter. ¡°Would you like something before you go, Tracy? A cup of tea perhaps?¡±


    ¡°I had one a few minutes ago, The wind was quite bitter on the walk back from the school. They¡¯re saying it might rain tonight.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Thank you again for doing this, I really don''t know what we''d do without you.¡±


    Tracy smiled. ¡°She''s a joy to be with. Same time tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Yes please. Oh, I''ve ordered some deliveries. The robot''ll take care of it, There¡¯s no need for you to do anything. Just don''t be surprised if trucks keep coming to the door over the next couple of days.¡±


    ¡°Okay. See you tomorrow then."


    Tracy saw herself out through the front door, and Samantha watched through the window as she walked down the path to the gate and got into her car, an absent minded smile on her face. Everything was fine in her world, Samantha knew. Her husband had a good job that he enjoyed doing, everyone in her family was in good health. One day, perhaps soon, she would have a child of her own and Lily would have a young companion on her ride home from school in Tracy¡¯s car. There was no thought in the young woman''s mind that the world she lived in would ever be anything other than safe and comfortable.


    What would Tracy and her husband do if the apocalypse came? she wondered. Tracy knew that Samantha was an astronomer. If destruction came from space, would she remember all the extra grocery deliveries and guess that she''d had advance warning? Samantha tensed up as she imagined the anger the other woman would feel. The terrible sense of betrayal. Perhaps she should warn her. Tell her that she too should stock up on supplies, prepare for the possible collapse of civilisation.


    The trouble was, though, that Tracy had a sister with a husband and children of her own. She would want to warn them as well, and they would also have loved ones they¡¯d want to warn. There was the chance that word might find its way to the media. Only as a rumour, of course. A page seven story in the newspapers. The ¡®and finally¡¯ story on the television news with the presenter smiling with amusement as he delivered the crackpot theory. Nobody who didn''t know her personally would take it seriously, but when calamity struck they would remember and there would be a terrible wave of fury towards the authorities who¡¯d known and who hadn''t warned them.


    If it¡¯s confirmed that the danger is real, the authorities will issue a warning, she told herself, but then everyone will be racing to stockpile. The shops will be empty and Tracy will have lost the opportunity to beat the crowd, an opportunity she would have if Samantha told her now. She paced back and forth across the carpet, torn with indecision. Tracy was her friend. If Tracy was in trouble, Samantha would help her in any way she could, just as Tracy would help her if their positions were reversed. Perhaps she could give her some kind of cryptic warning. Something that would urge her to stockpile without telling her the truth about what might happen. A bad weather warning, perhaps.


    As she continued to pace, the idea grew and grew on her. Yes, a bad weather warning. She might pass on the warning to her loved ones and it would do no harm because she was saying nothing about a second Scatter Cloud. People worried about the weather all the time. It was the Great British Preoccupation, and a weather scare would come as no surprise to anyone. Her mind made up, she took her phone from her pocket.


    ¡°Tracy!¡± she said when it was answered. ¡°I completely forgot to tell you. We heard at the University that there¡¯s going to be a lot of sunspot activity over the next few days. They think it might bring on a spell of unusually cold weather. Yes, even worse than thirty one. That''s why I''ve ordered some extra groceries, in case we get snowed in. Yes, that¡¯s right. I meant to tell you, and then it went completely out of my head. No, nothing like that. Just worries at work. Anyway, you might want to order some extra food in yourself, just in case. You know how people are at the least suggestion that... Yes, that¡¯s right. Yes, good idea. I''ve ordered a new freezer, just in case. Okay then. That''s quite alright. Yes, there''s no point working at a university if we can''t get the occasional heads up about things like this. Okay, yes. See you tomorrow.¡±


    She broke the connection, feeling much better. It was a small thing she had done, but it was enough to drive away the guilt and make her feel better about doing whatever she had to do to protect Lily. Thankfully, the young woman had virtually no scientific literacy. She certainly didn''t know that they were currently going though a sunspot minimum, something that her tablet could have told her in just a couple of moments, as well as the fact that sunspots had almost no effect on the weather. It wasn''t Samantha''s fault that the woman hadn''t bothered to educate herself.


    She went upstairs, changed into her comfortable indoor clothes and went down again to where Lily was still sitting on the sofa watching the television. ¡°So,¡± she said. ¡°Sausages and chips?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± said Lily in delight.


    Samantha grinned with happiness and relief and went through into the kitchen.

 Chapter Eleven

    ¡°The main lab is an ultra clean room,¡± said Ben, showing Eddie into the changing room. ¡°No contamination of any kind, not even hairs and flakes of skin, can be allowed in there, so everyone has to shower, scrubbing hard to exfoliate, and shave all parts of their bodies except the groin and head. We do that in pairs so each can get the hard to reach parts of the other. Then we wear skin tight breeches and hairnets under our cotton lab clothing.¡±


    Eddie nodded, staring around the gleaming white, porcelain room curiously. He''d accepted Ben''s invitation to visit the lab where the spaceship was being studied and the whole group had flown straight to England from Martinique. The others had gone ahead while Ben helped Eddie to get through the strict security procedures. He was now wearing his newly minted identity badge which had the word ¡®Visitor¡¯ printed across it in big white letters. His finger still itched where the blood sample had been taken to get his DNA fingerprint, and he had to keep stopping himself from rubbing it against his trouser leg.


    ¡°So,¡± said Ben, gesturing towards the showers. ¡°Shall we get washed and changed? The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can go through to where it all happens.¡±


    Eddie nodded and began getting undressed, while wishing it was one of the women who was here with him. He grinned ruefully to himself. Grow up, you idiot! he scolded himself. It''s not as if you¡¯ve never showered with a woman before. Pleasure later. For the time being, stay professional. It would certainly be easy to remain professional in present company, he reflected as he watched the older man undressing on the other side of the room. Ben was one of those people who really should wear clothes.


    An hour later, their skins red raw and itching from the razor and the exfoliating brush, they rubbed themselves with cream to keep flakes of skin from floating away into the air. ¡°You do this every day?¡± asked Eddie.


    ¡°Every time we want to go through there,¡± replied the other man, indicating the door opposite the one they''d come in through. ¡°We don''t actually go in there much, though. We have samples, scans and photographs, and they allow us to do most of the actual work in the labs upstairs. We only go in to where the ship itself is stored when we need to access the source material, and that might only be once every couple of weeks. Our first priority, though, the one thing we absolutely have to make sure of, is that the source material isn''t contaminated. It could render invalid any test or experiment we want to run in the future.¡±


    ¡°If it was buried in a coal seam for three hundred million years, I think it¡¯s a little late to worry about contamination.¡±


    ¡°It was sealed all that time. One of the first things our predecessors did, though, was cut their way into it, letting air circulate freely throughout the vessel. Thankfully, they had the foresight to put it in a sterile, pure nitrogen atmosphere first. It''s breathable in there these days, but every bit as sterile.¡±


    After the armed guards, security checks and barbed wire fences they''d passed to enter the building, Eddie expected to have to pass more barriers to go into the presence of the ship itself, but all Ben did was open the door and gesture for the new recruit to precede him in. Eddie passed through warily, his imagination conjuring up automatic defences that some overworked operator had forgotten to inform about him. Were there hidden weapons targeting him even now? Perhaps poison gas dispensers, designed to kill without releasing blood and other contaminants into the air. The sudden gust of air made him jump, therefore, but when he spun around he saw that Ben was perfectly relaxed and grinning with amusement. Just air replacement, he realised. Expelling the dusty outdoor air that had come in with them laden with spores and pollen grains and replacing it with filtered air.


    The wind stopped, and Ben opened a hatch in the wall where two piles of folded cotton clothes were stored. They got dressed, and Ben handed Eddie a face mask, fitting another over his nose and mouth. Along with the hairnets, the rubber gloves and the cloth booties, it made them look like crime scene investigators about to enter a murder scene. Ben then gestured to another door in the far end of the chamber. Eddie took hold of the cold, metal handle  turned it and pushed the door open.


    There was a hiss of air as the pressure equalised. On the other side was a chamber the size of an aircraft hanger with dozens of electric lights on the high ceiling and a clutter of equipment against the walls; some on tables, more just piled on the floor. The rest of the team were already there, waiting for them, dressed the same way as the two new arrivals. Eddie barely noticed them, though. His attention had been seized by the object that sat in the centre of the huge room.


    It looked like a gleaming silver cigar, pointed at the ends and wide enough in the middle for an average sized house to fit inside. It had no features or markings; just the smooth, silvery surface unbroken except where holes had been cut into it by the researchers. Those holes, although they were smooth and regular, looked like ugly wounds to Eddie. A violation of the ship''s geometric perfection, but his discomfort at what had been done to the vessel was eclipsed by his fascination with what could be seen inside. A jumble of machinery. A tangle of pipes, threads and tubes, some of it dangling freely like the entrails of a beast savaged by a predator. He moved closer to get a better look.


    ¡°Well, there it is,¡± said Ben, following behind. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    Eddie was too awestruck to reply, though. He continued to walk towards the ship until he was under its curving hull and reached a hand up to touch it. The surface looked like a sheet of mercury and he expected his fingers to sink into it, sending out ripples. It was solid, though, and even the most casual glance was enough to tell him that it was more perfect than any metal surface ever made by man.


    ¡°It''s smooth to within one nanometre,¡± said James, as if guessing his thoughts. He drove his chair closer. ¡°It¡¯s pure iron, but the atoms are arranged in an amorphous, non crystalline manner. Iron glass. Humans have been making metal glasses for decades, of course, but no matter how carefully we do it there are always pockets of crystal here and there. We''ve been studying parts of the hull and we¡¯ve never found even the smallest trace of crystalline structure anywhere. Or rust for that matter. It''s not even steel, no other elements alloyed with it, and yet it somehow didn¡¯t rust away to nothing during its time in the swamp.¡±


    ¡°It also seems to have some kind of self healing ability,¡± added Jasmine. ¡°You''d expect it to be pretty banged up after all those millions of years, but the only marks on it are those we¡¯ve made since discovering it and even they seem to be trying to heal. The machine marks the circular saw left while cutting it open have vanished, leaving the edges of the holes mirror smooth. It''s clearly a lot more than just ordinary iron. It''s active in some way. I¡¯m tempted to use the word ¡®alive¡¯. The original power source must have long since depleted, though. Maybe it¡¯s scavenging energy from the environment in some way.¡±


    ¡°James and Jasmine are our materials specialists,¡± said Ben. ¡°They''re the ones trying to figure out what the ship''s made of and, if possible, how to duplicate it. They''ve made great progress with superconductors and mimetic materials, but there are components in there that don¡¯t seem to be made of atoms at all.¡±


    ¡°Back in Martinique you said something about coherent matter,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°Yes. Protons and electrons arranged in a regular pattern, like atoms in a crystal. Which is impossible, of course, but it¡¯s hard to interpret the x-ray diffraction patterns in any other way.¡±


    ¡°It would be neutron star density, wouldn''t it?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d think so, but it has the density of water while being harder than diamond. You''ll have to talk to James about it sometime, but I have to warn you. If you don''t come away with a headache afterwards, you weren''t paying attention.¡± James smiled at him and Eddie smiled nervously back.


    Eddie walked along the hull until he came to a flight of steps that had been erected beside it. He climbed them until he came to a railed walkway and followed it until he came to one of the holes that had been cut in the hull. This close, the ship''s innards looked even more like the entrails of a slaughtered animal. There was a wet appearance to them, although they felt perfectly dry through the thin rubber of his gloves when he reached out a tentative hand to touch them. There was a faint smell that reminded him of wet dog.


    ¡°That''s where we, our predecessors, found one of the mass dampeners,¡± said Ben. ¡°You can see a lumpy tube that comes to an end. It was attached to the end of it.¡±


    ¡°How did you, they, know to cut right here?¡±


    ¡°There was a magnetic anomaly right here. Something under the hull was generating a powerful magnetic field. They were looking for a place to cut and they chose here.¡±


    ¡°And the hull is just iron? Glass iron but iron nonetheless? Just five centimetres thick? What kind of protection is that for an interstellar craft? I assume it reached a good percentage of the speed of light?¡±


    ¡°The mass dampener again. We have reason to believe that its area of effect reached several metres out from the surface of the hull, so any interstellar gas and dust that hit it would be effectively massless, incapable of causing damage. Right, Frank?¡± The other man nodded.


    ¡°You said the engines were on poles, jutting out from the hull.¡± Eddie looked along the smooth surface of the ship. ¡°Where are they?¡±


    ¡°They can be extruded when needed, like the eyes of a snail. We''ve seen it happen. We were able to power up some of the ship¡¯s systems with fuel cells. Ask Jessica, she''ll show you later. She''s the one looking into the miniature ion drive.¡±


    ¡°So, what does Alice do?¡± asked Eddie, looking down at the small, black woman grinning back up at him.


    ¡°Everything else,¡± said Ben. ¡°Anything she can think of, really. Anything none of the others are looking at.¡±


    ¡°Right now I''m studying the instrument panels,¡± said Alice. ¡°Or at least the patches of interior wall where we think the instrument panels must have been.¡± She beckoned for him to come back down, then led him around to the other side of the ship where there was another flight of steps. She climbed up to a hole that went right through the hull into the interior of the ship, while Eddie followed her.


    The interior was much the same as the exterior. Bare, silvery metal, gleaming and perfect except the floor, which was textured to allow their feet to get a grip on it. The chamber they found themselves in was about the size of a small garage with circular openings in the walls, but not the floor or ceiling, to give access to neighbouring rooms. Against one bulkhead was a human made fuel cell, looking out of place in the alien setting. A power cable ran from it to where a hole had been cut in the iron wall. Eddie squinted close and saw it connecting with part of the ship''s piping.


    ¡°It¡¯s divided into decks, with a clear up and down,¡± said Eddie, staring around the chamber in wonder. ¡°They had gravity in here. And down is not aligned with the long axis. They didn''t get the gravity from accelerating.¡±


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.     ¡°Unless they accelerated that way,¡± said Alice, pointing up and grinning. ¡°You see a cigar shape and you assume it moved pointy end forward, but for all we know it moved sideways. They were aliens, after all. Who knows how they did things?¡±


    ¡°Was there anything inside?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°Furniture? Equipment? Anything like that?¡±


    ¡°Some sludge on the floor, apparently. Water, metal oxides, organics, silicates. So totally corroded and decomposed that there¡¯s no way to tell what it once was. Whatever it was that allowed the ship itself to defy the aeons apparently didn''t apply to its contents.¡±


    ¡°Could some of that contents have been the crew?¡±


    ¡°Derek Pell didn''t think so. He was a biologist, he worked on the ship about twenty years ago. You can read his summation when you''ve officially joined the project. You can catch up on all his research if you want. What it boils down to, though, is that he thought it extremely unlikely that anything in here was ever alive.¡±


    Eddie followed her through one chamber after another until they reached one with no more doors leading forward. The front of the ship, by Eddie''s estimation. ¡°This was the cockpit?¡± he said.


    Like every other room it was totally empty. The front bulkhead was flat, but totally bare. No dials or switches, no display screens. No cockpit seats. ¡°Maybe they sat on the floor,¡± he mused. He fingered the front bulkhead where holes had been cut in it. ¡°You took samples,¡± he said. ¡°Looking for chemical differences? Evidence that information was displayed here?¡±


    Alice nodded. ¡±We don''t even know if vision was their primary sense, but whatever form the information took, textures or patterns of electrical charge, this is the logical place for it to have been displayed. We found nothing, though. Just the same glass iron with nothing to make it different from any other part of the ship.¡±


    ¡°It''s possible that they used virtual displays,¡± said Jasmine, who''d followed them in. ¡°The information fed directly into their brains. They would look at the bulkhead and see information displayed there, but it would all be in their heads.¡±


    ¡°We agreed not to indulge in flights of fancy,¡± said Ben, though. ¡°We stick to what we know, what we can deduce directly from the evidence. Otherwise there¡¯s no telling how far astray our imaginations might lead us.¡±


    Jasmine nodded soberly, but when she looked back at Eddie there was an amused gleam in her eyes and a smile visible under her face mask. Eddie couldn''t help but smile back.


    ¡°Can we go back to where you found the mass dampeners?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Sure,¡± said Ben. He led the way back to the entrance they''d made. ¡°The original entrance was on the lower deck,¡± he said. ¡°There''s a small room that can only be an airlock, but there¡¯s no trace of a hatch visible from the outside. The metal healed seamlessly when it was closed.¡±


    ¡°But no interior doors, other then the inner airlock door,¡± added Karen. ¡°They had no need for privacy or personal space, it seems.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it only had a single occupant,¡± said Jasmine. ¡°They may not have been social creatures, like us. They might have been okay with being alone for years at a time. Yes, I know,¡± she said, seeing Ben getting ready to speak. ¡°No speculation.¡±


    Back outside the ship, they returned to where a section of the outer wall had been cut away. Eddie touched the exposed pipes and tubes again. ¡°I wonder what they¡¯d feel like if you touched them with your bare fingers?¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t do that!¡¯ said Jessica anxiously, taking half a step forward. ¡°Your fingers are greasy, You¡¯d contaminate it...¡±


    ¡°I know, I wouldn¡¯t actually do it. I''d be scared the ship would do something nasty to me. Give me an electric shock or something.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no power in the ship except what we''re feeding into it from the fuel cells,¡± said Ben, ¡°and the cell¡¯s not turned on at the moment.¡±


    ¡°There must be some power coming from somewhere if the hull¡¯s still trying to heal itself. Maybe not electrical power. Maybe photons being absorbed and emitted by electrons, passed from atom to atom. Maybe even direct mechanical vibrations.¡±


    ¡°We''ve explored every possibility we can think of and found nothing,¡± said Ben. ¡°You can read up on everything we know, everything we''re tried, when you join the project properly.¡±


    ¡°When?¡± said Eddie, smiling in amusement. ¡°Not if?¡±


    ¡°I''m more confident now than I was when I first met you, on the ferry, and I was pretty confident then. I can see the way you''re looking at the ship, the tone of your voice. You''re hooked, Eddie. No point trying to deny it any longer.¡±


    Eddie stared in anger, the denial already forming itself on his lips, but then he saw the others all looking at him, the smiles evident even behind their face masks, and the anger evaporated. It was true, he realised. He needed to know more about the ship. He needed to know everything they''d learned about it over the last fifty years. He needed it the way a man lost in the desert needed water. Having seen the ship, he knew he could never just go back to his former life and forget about it. He was going to join the project. The others all knew it, and now he knew it as well.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± he said with a sigh of resignation. ¡°Where do I sign up?¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    An hour later, once again dressed in their normal clothes, they were sitting in the senior staff lounge with cups of tea and a tray of biscuits that Ben had brought from the neighbouring kitchen. Mounted on the wall behind them was a large television, currently turned off, its screen reflecting the view of a central, shrub filled courtyard visible through the window. Along the opposite wall was a bar, currently unoccupied, where someone could serve stronger drinks to the others. In one corner a pair of junior technicians were chatting quietly to each other, so Ben had chosen a table at the other end of the room.


    ¡°How many people know about the space ship?¡± asked Eddie.


    ¡°About fifty people here, in this building. Probably another fifty out and about across the world. Politicians, soldiers and so on. Most of the people in this building don¡¯t know about it. The guards, even most of the scientists and researchers. Wilson¡¯s does some genuine weapons research here, as a cover. This room is reserved for people who do know, though, so we can speak freely here.¡±


    ¡°But even so, a hundred people...¡±


    ¡°You''re wondering how we maintain security? We do have the occasional leak, it''s true. Someone bragging to their significant other or getting drunk and telling everyone in their local watering hole. We pass it off as an urban legend. The Tadcaster UFO. We occasionally add our own rumours, just to muddy the waters. A portal to an alien dimension. A secret time travel project, that sort of thing. We''ve reached the point when you only have to mention the name Tadcaster and everyone just dismisses whatever you say next as nonsense and pseudoscience. Tadcaster has become a place that everyone''s heard of but nobody takes seriously, like the Bermuda Triangle. If one of us did decide to go to the press and tell everything, the reporter would slam the phone down before you reached the end of the first sentence.¡±


    ¡°Funny how we still use expressions like ¡®slam the phone down¡¯,¡± said Karen with a smile. ¡°Amazing how these sayings persist even after the technology moves on.¡± Stuart nodded his agreement but no-one else commented on the observation.


    ¡°Have any other artefacts been found?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°Ancient artefacts, I mean. Millions of years old. Clearly the product of an advanced technology.¡±


    ¡°Do an internet search and you''ll find thousands of them,¡± replied Ben, ¡°but none of them stand up to scrutiny. Hoaxes for the most part. Some are intriguing, but natural explanations can''t be entirely ruled out. The corrugated spheres of South Africa, for example. Found in rocks three billion years old, but they look manufactured, all identical. No-one can think of any natural process that could have produced them. They first started turning up about a hundred years ago and the miners have been digging them up regularly ever since. Then there¡¯re the Narada objects. Microscopic, intricately detailed objects found in the Narada river, near the Urals. Dated at around two hundred thousand years old. Even today, we lack the ability to duplicate them. There''s a collective name for these things. Enigmaliths. There are dozens of them, but they¡¯ve never been regarded as anything other than curiosities. When the Tadcaster UFO is made public, as it inevitably will be one day, these objects might be studied properly and perhaps we¡¯ll discover something astonishing, but until then...¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°I was just wondering if there was any evidence that the people who made the ship actually occupied this planet. Maybe just a small research outpost, maybe cities of millions of inhabitants. I suppose there¡¯d be fossils if there¡¯d ever been any great number of aliens on Earth.¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± said Alice, though. ¡°On average, one fossil of a large land animal gets created every thousand years or so. Millions of them might have inhabited the Earth for thousands of years and not left a single fossil.¡±


    ¡°But there¡¯d be other evidence, wouldn¡¯t there? Unusual elements in rocks laid down at that time, for instance. Fission products, unusual isotopes, that sort of thing. Like the iridium in the KT boundary left by the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.¡±


    ¡°A chap called Jake Tumwell took a few carboniferous rock samples back in the twenties,¡± said Frank. ¡°Gave them to a lab for analysis. Just tell me if you find anything interesting, he said. They apparently didn''t, though. At least, they never said so if they did.¡±


    ¡°Back when they burned coal for heat and power, the energy companies regularly analysed it, looking for contaminants,¡± added James. ¡°They didn''t want to get sued if their coal caused cancer or something. A lot of that coal came from the Kasimovian age, the age when the ship was buried. They never revealed their findings, though. Every so often, we talk about getting the government to make them hand their results over, getting some experts to look at them. Who knows what we might find?¡±


    ¡°That would be of academic interest only, though,¡± said Ben. ¡°We can''t go to such lengths just to satisfy our curiosity.¡±


    ¡°It might be of more than just academic interest,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°It could tell us a lot about how much life there is in the galaxy. If they occupied this planet in great numbers, with no thought to how much damage they were doing to the ecosystem, that might mean that life bearing planets like Earth are common enough that they didn¡¯t think it worth protecting.¡±


    ¡°There was no particularly significant mass extinction happening at the time,¡± said Jessica. ¡°Life was just ticking over like normal, before, during and after the time the ship landed in the swamp.¡±


    ¡°So perhaps they did protect Earth,¡± said Eddie. ¡°If they made it here once, why not again? Why just one ship in all Earth¡¯s history? If they protected Earth, that might mean that it¡¯s rare and precious, that life, complex life at least, is very uncommon. We know that no other world in our solar system has life, at least.¡±


    ¡°You''re trying to draw conclusions from almost no evidence,¡± warned Ben, though. ¡°We may just have to accept that we may never know the answer to these questions. We''re scientists. We can¡¯t just go around making up whatever fairy tale takes our fancy, like a religion.¡±


    ¡°I was just trying to explore the boundaries of what we can deduce,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°We now know that life emerged at least twice in the galaxy...¡±


    ¡°Actually, we don¡¯t even know that,¡± said Jessica with an apologetic smile. ¡°We don''t have so much as a single alien cell. We don''t have a single clue as to what their biochemistry might have been. For all we know, we might share a common origin with the aliens.¡±


    ¡°Interstellar panspermia?¡± said Stuart with a dismissive snort. ¡°There isn''t a planet within a dozen light years that was ever capable of harbouring life.¡±


    ¡°There might have been, four billion years ago. Something stirred up the solar system around then, moved the giant planets to their present orbits. Maybe it was the close approach of another star with a life bearing planet. An asteroid hits the planet, blasting chunks of rock out into space, rocks with microbes buried inside. Some of them land on Earth...¡±


    ¡°So you think life started on the other planet and was carried to Earth?¡±


    ¡°Or it could have happened the other way around. Who knows?¡±


    ¡°So how come life was never carried from Earth to Mars? We know Mars could easily have supported life three billion years ago. It had oceans, rivers, a dense atmosphere keeping it warm...¡±


    ¡°Maybe it was. There might have been life on Mars for millions of years before dying out. The manned mission to Mars was little more than a flags and footprints affair. Who knows what they might find when they set up the permanent colony they''re always talking about."


    ¡°We''ve got plenty of mars rocks, a lot of it sedimentary. None of it has fossils. Not even microbes!¡±


    ¡°Life might have been confined to a brief window of opportunity just a few million years wide, and it might not have colonised the whole planet, not even during the most habitable era. Maybe only one in a thousand sedimentary meteorites has fossils.¡±


    ¡°The Mary Anning probe went there specifically looking for fossils. It found nothing.¡±


    ¡°They may have misjudged the age of the terrain it landed on. It may be hundreds of millions of years too young.¡±


    ¡°The landscape there was made by water, that''s been confirmed, and on earth, where there¡¯s water, there¡¯s life. There are microbes on earth living miles below the surface. If there was ever life on Mars, it would surely have colonised the deep rocks where it would be safe from any climatic change on the surface, and if any part of the surface ever became habitable again, no matter for now brief a period, the deep life would surely have come back up to colonise it...¡±


    He was interrupted by a young man who threw the door open to stick his head through. ¡°Turn on the telly!¡± he shouted. ¡°Quick!¡± Then he ran off along the corridor, shouting the same thing to someone else, leaving the senior staff staring at each other in astonishment. ¡°What the hell?¡± said James in astonishment.


    ¡°Television,¡± said Ben in a loud, commanding voice. ¡°Turn on. BBC news channel.¡±


    The screen snapped to life, showing an attractive young woman visibly trying to remain calm as she read something from a screen on the desk in front of her. The scientists listened to her, and their eyes widened with alarm...

 Chapter Twelve

    Paul was jerked out of his sleep by the howling of the alarm. ¡°Emergency!¡± cried the recorded voice from every speaker. ¡°Emergency evacuation! Emergency! Emergency evacuation!¡±


    ¡°What''s going on?¡± he demanded as he struggled free from the elastic webbing. He threw open the curtain of his cot and climbed out to float in the middle of the module. He swam through the air, dressed only in his nightclothes, to the command module where Lauren was having an urgent, almost panicked conversation with ground control. ¡°What''s going on?¡± he demanded again.


    Lauren looked around at him, her eyes wide with fear, then returned her attention to the monitor screen. ¡°How long have we got?¡± she asked.


    ¡°The first particles could be arriving at any moment,¡± the face on the screen replied. It wasn''t someone Paul recognised. An elderly man with a neatly trimmed grey beard and wire frame spectacles. ¡°We don''t know if you¡¯re in any danger. This is purely precautionary, but we want you all on the ground within three hours. Put the station in ASCR mode and leave in the Colibri and the emergency re-entry modules. Immediately.¡±


    ¡°Roger,¡± said Lauren above the sound of the alarm. She reached out a hand and turned it off. Silence fell except for the distant voices of the other crew members asking each other what was going on. Lauren''s fingers were already tapping on the touchscreen in front of her, bringing up the option to put the space station into Assured Safe Crew Return mode, in which it would operate automatically until another crew could be put back aboard, when the emergency was over. ¡°ASCR mode activated. Prepping the re-entry craft for departure.¡±


    ¡°Lauren!¡± cried Paul, growing increasingly alarmed. ¡°What''s going on?¡±


    ¡°There''s another Scatter Cloud,¡± the station commander replied, struggling to remain calm as she unbuckled herself from the seat. ¡°A much bigger one. Heading right for us. The station could be holed. We¡¯ve been ordered to evacuate.¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡± Paul looked down at himself, still dressed only in his thin, cotton underclothes. Station protocol specified that, in an emergency evacuation, clothing was unimportant and that everyone should get to their assigned evacuation vehicle dressed in whatever they happened to be wearing at the time, but he still toyed with the idea of pulling on his shoes and jumpsuit. It would only take a moment...


    Lauren saw the thought in his eyes, though. ¡°Get to the Colibri!¡± she snapped. ¡°Now!¡±


    Paul nodded and grabbed hold of a support strut to turn himself. Then he kicked himself away, back through node five and towards the Rotterdam module, to which the European shuttle was docked.


    There was a ¡®Zing!¡¯ sound, simultaneously to his left and to his right. He froze in alarm, but nothing else seemed to happen. ¡°What was that?¡± demanded Benny from the entrance to node two.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Paul. ¡°We''ll look into it later. Let''s just get off this station first...¡±


    ¡°Air pressure warning,¡± said the station¡¯s computerised voice. ¡°Air pressure drop in the Rotterdam module. Close all airtight doors immediately and follow puncture repair procedures.¡±


    ¡°Ignore It,¡± said Benny. ¡°It¡¯ll take days for the pressure to drop dangerously low. Leave it for the next crew.¡±


    Paul nodded and began to move towards the airlock, but the computer voice spoke again. ¡°Air pressure in the Rotterdam module has dropped to nine hundred millibars. Close all airtight doors immediately and follow puncture repair procedures. Air pressure in the Rotterdam Module is now eight hundred and eighty milibars. Close all airtight doors immediately and follow puncture repair procedures.¡±


    ¡°Shit! It''s falling fast!¡± said Jayesh, who had also just arrived. He closed the hatch he¡¯d just come in through. ¡°Must be a big hole. And the others aren¡¯t here yet.¡±


    Paul nodded. The two emergency re-entry modules were located as far away from the Colibri and each other as possible, in case some disaster caused people to become cut off, unable to move freely around the space station. It might be that none of the others would be coming this way, but if they were, the only way to get to the Colibri shuttle was through the Rotterdam module.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the repair kit?¡± he demanded, looking around the crowded module. There were equipment and storage lockers all over the place, a jumble of colours and geometric shapes that made it hard to find one specific thing in the midst of it all. Punctures causing air leaks were usually small. Harmony had suffered several in the years since it had become operational, each one just a couple of millimetres across, and they''d had hours, even days, to find them before they became a problem. It hadn''t been thought necessary to made the repair kits easy to find, therefore. Not like the fire extinguishers that glared an angry red next to the airtight doors. Paul scanned his eyes across the room in increasing frustration, therefore. ¡°Where the hell is it?¡±


    ¡°Air pressure in the Rotterdam module has dropped to eight hundred milibars,¡± announced the computer voice. ¡°Close all airtight doors...¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know!¡± snapped Paul angrily, his ears popping painfully. ¡°Where the bloody hell...¡±


    ¡°Here it is,¡± cried Jayesh, pulling it out from behind the tool locker. He pulled it open and pulled out the tube of foam sealant. ¡°Now, where''s the leak?¡±


    Benny, meanwhile, had torn a page from the airlock service manual and had been tearing it into small pieces. He scattered them into the air, and the other two men watched as they tumbled over and over, spinning like snowflakes. ¡°Keep still,¡± warned the Swede. ¡°Don''t disturb the air.¡±


    All three men froze, watching the tiny flakes of paper as they drifted across the module. Some of them were drifting towards the portable air tanks and Paul allowed himself to drift closer. He could hear it now. A loud hissing, like an air hose as it was refilling the tanks of a spacesuit after an EVA, but louder. Alarmingly, terrifyingly loud. He could feel it now. A coolness against his bare arms and legs as the air moved past him, its temperature dropping along with its pressure. ¡°Gimme the sealant,¡± he cried. Jayesh pushed it through the air towards him.


    Paul snatched it out of the air, then stared at the bulkhead, searching for the hole. His eyes fixed on a tiny scrap of torn paper and followed it as it drifted towards the curving steel surface. There it was. A gasp escaped him as he saw the size of it. Fully two centimetres across! Big enough that he could have poked his finger out into the vacuum of space on the other side.


    Could the foam seal such a large hole, or would it just be sucked through before it could set? Only one way to find out. He popped the lid off, pointed the can at the hole and depressed the top. Foam sprayed out, and most of it did indeed get sucked right through, but some hit the sides of the hole and stayed there, building up into a kind of volcanic cone with a hole in the middle. He kept on spraying, growing the volcano larger and larger until the hole finally filled in and the flow of air ceased. He took his finger off the top and the spray stopped.


    ¡°The other one''s here,¡± said Benny.


    Paul spun around. He¡¯d forgotten that there must be two holes. An entrance and an exit wound. He grabbed hold of a spacesuit attached to the bulkhead beside him and used it to turn himself around. Then he pushed himself across the module to where the Swede was waiting, pointing to where a cluster of small scraps of paper had gathered around the second hole.


    Was there enough foam left in the can to fill another hole the same size? He doubted it, but then a thought came to him. ¡°Tear another page out of that manual,¡± he said. Benny did so and handed the sheet of paper across. Paul took it from him and placed it across the hole. The paper creased up as the suction began to pull it through, but Paul sprayed foam across it before it disappeared from sight. The paper stopped the foam long enough for it to set and a moment later the hole was sealed, one corner of the paper still visible under the scab of foam covering the wall.


    The three men breathed sighs of relief. ¡°Good," said Paul, releasing the can to float freely in the air. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s get aboard the shuttle.¡±


    Jayesh swam through the hatch, but as Benny went to follow him the hatch to node two opened and Susan poked her head through, her long hair waving around like seaweed in a slow current. ¡°Are we evacuating?¡± she said. ¡°What''s going on?¡±


    ¡°Get in the shuttle,¡± said Paul. There¡¯d be time for explanations later. ¡°Where are the others?¡±


    At that moment, the intercom came to life. ¡°This is Bao and Zhang from Evac Module One. Is anyone else wanting to use Evac Module One?¡±


    ¡°This is Paul in the Rotterdam Module,¡± Paul replied. ¡°Benny, Jayesh, Susan and myself are leaving in the Colibri.¡±


    ¡°This is Lauren and Ying,¡± the speaker then said. ¡°We''re in Evac Module Two. If everyone¡¯s in an escape vehicle then go. Immediately.¡±


    ¡°Roger,¡± said Bao. ¡°Launching immediately. Good luck everyone.¡± A moment later the space station gave a slight lurch as the clamps unlocked and the three spring loaded arms pushed the module gently away.


    Susan followed Benny into the shuttle and Paul followed after her. At least Maggie will be pleased by this, he thought as he closed the hatch behind him. It wasn''t the way he''d been intending to come home, but he was coming home none the less. She''d pretend to share his disappointment at having his mission cut short, but inside she¡¯d be delighted and, if the truth were told, he''d be glad to be home as well. He smiled as he imagined the reunion party they''d throw to celebrate his safe return. They¡¯d invite everyone...Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°Air pressure warning,¡± said the computer voice. ¡°Air pressure drop on the Heineman Module. Close all airtight doors...¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± said Benny with a smile as he swam through into the shuttle cockpit. ¡°The next crew can take care of it.¡±


    ¡°Two hits!¡± said Jayesh. ¡°We must be passing through a dense part of the cloud. The shuttle could be hit!¡±


    ¡°If it''s God¡¯s will,¡± said Susan.


    ¡°The shuttle''s a small target,¡± said Paul. ¡°The Evac Modules are even smaller. The station¡¯s huge. We''ll be okay.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± said Benny, going quickly through the emergency separation checklist. ¡°Three hours from now we¡¯ll be breathing clean, fresh air again. Not this recycled muck. The first thing I''m going to do when we get back on the ground is go to the nearest restaurant and order their biggest pickled herring.¡±


    ¡°This is Lauren Kelly,¡± said the commander''s voice over the intercom. ¡°We''re about to launch. Last chance if anyone wants to come with us.¡±


    ¡°This is Benny Svanberg. Paul, Susan, Jayesh and myself are aboard the Calibri, about to launch.¡±


    ¡°This is Bao and Zhang. We are safely separated in Evac Module One, about to fire de-orbit thrusters.¡±


    ¡°Roger that,¡± said Lauren. ¡°We''re separating now, in that case. Good luck everyone.¡± A moment later the station gave another lurch as the second emergency escape module separated and began its journey back to Earth.


    ¡°Just us, then,¡± said Benny, his fingers tapping the shuttle¡¯s touch screen. ¡°Everything looks good. Everyone buckled in?¡±


    ¡°My God!¡± cried Susan, staring out through the tiny, round window beside her seat. ¡°Look at that!¡±


    Paul twisted around in his seat so he could look. The night side of the Earth was hanging there beside them, glittering with cities. Paul had seen it a hundred times before and the sight always enraptured him, but this time it was different. Streaks of light were passing across it, each one a tiny meteor burning up in the atmosphere, except that they weren''t burning up. They couldn''t be, not if they were as impossibly dense as the components of the first cloud. They would be reaching the ground and passing straight through earth and rock, scarcely slowing, only giving up their momentum one tiny bit at a time. Would they explode, deep below the ground? Paul wondered. Perhaps with enough force to shake the ground above and bring buildings crashing down in ruin? Or would they just keep slowing until they came to a gentle stop, perhaps continuing to sink at a snail¡¯s pace until they finally settled at the centre of the Earth, centuries or millions of years from now? That probably depended on what they were made of, he mused, something that still had experts all over the world scratching their heads in puzzlement.


    ¡°If anyone¡¯s left the gas on, this is your last chance to go back and turn it off,¡± said Benny, a wide grin on his face.


    ¡±If we¡¯re going, let¡¯s just go,¡± said Susan, her eyes wide with fear. ¡°We could get hit any time.¡±


    Paul reached across to take her hand. She jerked her hand back in surprise at the first touch of his fingers, spinning her head around to stare at him, but then she reached back out and allowed her hand to be taken. Her fingers were cold as they closed tight around his. She smiled nervously and Paul gave her a reassuring smile back. ¡°We''re going to be okay,¡± he told her. ¡°You''ll see.¡±


    ¡°Casting off,¡± said Benny, touching the flashing panel on the touch screen. They heard a clunk as the locking clamps opened, and then they felt a gentle backwards motion as the spring loaded arms pushed them away from the space station. In front of them, through the cockpit windows, they saw the looming bulk of the Rotterdam module begin to slowly shrink, the guide lights around the docking port blinking steadily as if everything was normal. Paul found it strangely reassuring and allowed his attention to remain focused on them.


    ¡°Closing nose covers,¡± said Benny, and the triangular sections of hull closed, hiding the airlock¡¯s outer door and creating a smooth cone of heat resistant tiles across the shuttle''s nose.


    ¡°I shouldn''t be scared,¡± said Susan, looking at Paul. ¡°My faith should give me comfort and strength. Why should I be scared when I know I''ll go to heaven if I die?¡±


    ¡°It''s normal to be scared,¡± Paul replied. ¡°We''re in actual danger at the moment. If you weren''t scared, then I''d be worried.¡±


    ¡°But I should have more faith. If it''s God''s plan that we all die today, then I should rejoice, not quiver with fear.¡±


    ¡°Fear serves an important function. It gives you extra strength, sharpens your reflexes. Helps you survive when danger threatens. God gave you the capacity for fear for a reason. You should give thanks for it.¡± She smiled gratefully at him and gave his hand an extra squeeze.


    ¡°Performing yaw manoeuvre,¡± said Benny, his fingers playing on the touch screen like a musical instrument. A moment later, Harmony''s solar panels came into view through the cockpit windows as the shuttle turned to bring its thrusters facing in the right direction for the de-orbit burn. Even as he watched, Paul saw a cloud of glittering motes erupt from a support strut as another cloud particle hit it. The solar panels had no doubt taken several hits by now, enough to reduce their output by quite a considerable amount. The next crew to occupy the station would have to make do on minimal power until they could make repairs.


    There was a zing, the exact same noise they¡¯d heard in the Rotterdam Module, and Paul tensed up in sudden terror. ¡°We''ve been hit!¡± he said. Susan''s hand tightened around his with painful force and he looked around, trying to see a hole in the shuttle''s skin. ¡°Where? Where were we hit?¡±


    ¡°Where''s the foam sealant?¡± demanded Jayesh. ¡°Oh, I see it.¡± He unbuckled himself from his seat and floated upwards to where it was stored, in a glass fronted alcove near the ceiling. He pulled it open and yanked the bottle free. ¡°Where?¡± he asked, staring around.


    ¡°Do the trick with the torn up paper,¡± said Benny. ¡°There should be a set of safety instructions somewhere. Tear out the last page.¡±


    Paul did so, tore it up and released the tiny pieces of paper into the air. It was the first time Susan had seen it, and she stared in fascination as they began to gather up near the ceiling. ¡®There it is!¡± she cried. ¡°God, it''s huge!¡±


    It was the same size as the one in the space station, nearly two centimetres across. The cloud seemed to be made of particles that were all of a uniform size. Paul laid a piece of paper over it and sprayed it with foam before it could be sucked through. ¡°Let''s hope it wasn''t travelling straight downwards,¡± he said, ¡°because if it was...¡±


    ¡°The heat shield,¡± said Benny, his face grim. ¡°If the heat shield compromised...¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t go home,¡± Paul finished for him. ¡°Not until it''s fixed, anyway.¡± The heat shield was made of heat resistant tiles, held in place with a special glue. It was quite common for them to be damaged by space debris and so every shuttle carried a few spares that could be cut to shape and used anywhere on the shuttle''s underside. That required a spacewalk, though, and even the simplest spacewalk required lengthy preparation before the astronaut could step out through the airlock. And even then, when the job was done, the glue required twelve hours to set before the shuttle could perform a re-entry.


    ¡°Maybe it passed through at an angle,¡± said Jayesh hopefully, staring at the remaining scraps of paper floating around the cabin, but it was already obvious that they were settling towards the floor, towards a spot close by Susan¡¯s foot.


    ¡°God!¡± she gasped. ¡°It just missed me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll inform ground control,¡± said Benny, opening the communications link. ¡°Canberra, this is Pluvier. You there, George?¡±


    ¡°Right here, Benny. What''s your status?¡±


    ¡°We''ve taken a hit. We believe the heat shield¡¯s been compromised. We need to assess the situation and make repairs before we can return to earth.¡±


    ¡°Roger that, Benny. Suggest you return to Harmony. The rest of you might as well be comfortable while Susan does her thing.¡±


    Susan looked up sharply, a look of shocked realisation on her face. Of course! With Zhang and Lauren both on their way back to Earth in the re-entry modules, she was the only one left qualified to perform a spacewalk.


    ¡°Roger, Canberra. Returning to Harmony.¡±


    He reached out a hand to sever the connection, but Paul unbuckled himself from his seat and swam forward to the empty seat vacated by Jayesh, who was sealing the hole in the floor. ¡°George? Lauren said it''s another Scatter Cloud. Is that right?¡±


    ¡°That''s correct, Paul. The astronomers spotted a bunch of asteroids that had been thrown around by it a few weeks ago. They crunched the numbers and were able to determine its mass and flight path. It''s big, Paul. About ten to the nineteenth tons. That''s over ten percent the mass of the moon.¡±


    There was silence in the shuttle for a moment as they digested the news. ¡°And it''s coming this way? Heading towards the Earth?¡±


    ¡°Heading towards the Earth, Moon system, we can''t really narrow it down any more than that until the eggheads finish their calculations. Another hour or two, they say. They think it consists of a central mass consisting of about half the cloud¡¯s total mass in an area a few thousand kicks across, with the rest consisting of an outer halo that might be hundreds of thousands of kilometres wide. We think you¡¯re passing through that outer halo now.¡±


    ¡°So does that mean the central mass is still on its way, or has it missed us?¡±


    ¡°We''ll know more when we see how the orbits of satellites are affected. The good news is that, with Harmony fully refuelled, you should be able to make any course corrections necessary.¡±


    ¡°But everything else in orbit is going to be scattered to the four winds. Right after we just finished putting it all back where it belongs.¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily. The central mass could pass hundreds of thousands of clicks away. If it does, the satellites might scarcely be affected. Even if we lose everything in orbit, though, that''ll be preferable to the worst case scenario.¡±


    ¡°That being the central mass hitting the Earth,¡± said Paul. He could feel his face turning white with fear. ¡°How... How bad would it be?¡±


    ¡°Unsurvivable, but the Earth¡¯s a small target, relatively speaking.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, so is the Shuttle. How are the others? Are they okay?¡±


    ¡°So far. Both escape pods have fired their de-orbit boosters, so they''re committed. They''re on their way back to Earth and nothing can stop them.¡±


    ¡°Lucky it was us that got hit, then, and not them,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°They''re not out of the woods yet, but I really don''t think they¡¯re in much danger. The distance between cloud particles... You just got lucky.¡±


    ¡°Very lucky,¡± said Benny. ¡°I was just moments away from performing our own de-orbit burn.¡±


    ¡°God was with us,¡± said Susan, who then began whispering a prayer of thanks under her breath.


    Benny, meanwhile, had been manoeuvring the shuttle to align the docking port in its nose with the station''s docking port again. ¡°Never actually done this in real life,¡± he said, a nervous tone in his voice. ¡°In simulation, yes. Hundreds of times, but not in real life. How come Zhang and Lauren aren''t here? They¡¯re the shuttle pilots.¡±


    ¡°Zhang just happened to be in the wrong part of the station when it all went down,¡± said Paul, ¡°and Lauren probably thought that Ying should have a qualified pilot with him, just in case. Don¡¯t worry, you''ll be fine. The computer does most of it. The computer could do it all, really. There''s no need to have a human at the controls at all. If you want, you could step down and let the autopilot handle it.¡±


    ¡°Don''t trust computers,¡± said the Swede. ¡°You never know if the programmer was having a bad day when he wrote that crucial line of code, put one little comma in the wrong place. No, you¡¯re right. I can handle this.¡± He smiled reassuringly, then turned back to the controls. ¡°Okay. One tiny little puff of thrust to take us in...¡±


    Paul looked out through the cockpit window, where the tiny, blinking lights around the docking port were still flashing steadily on and off, telling him that all the station''s automatic systems were working properly. Apart from a few small holes in the hull, the station was still in good condition. There was absolutely nothing to worry about. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly.


    As they approached, the opening flaps of the nose covers hid the docking port from sight, but Benny could still see it on one of his cockpit displays. A moment later there was a soft clunk and a slight bump that rocked them in their seats. ¡°Good connection,¡± said Benny, grinning all over his face with relief. ¡°We are soft docked. And now...¡± He touched the screen in front of him and another clunk came from the docking port. ¡°We are hard docked. The shuttle is secure.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Paul, unstrapping himself from his seat and floating free. ¡°Let''s get back inside. Looks like Harmony''s going to be our home for a little while longer...¡±

 Chapter Thirteen

    ¡°Now add the raisins,¡± said Samantha.


    Lily upended the bag of raisins into the porcelain bowl, on top of the tangled lump of dough. A few landed on the wooden work bench and Samantha scooped them up in her hands. She dumped them into the bowl with the others.


    ¡°Okay, now mix them in.¡±


    Her face fixed with an expression of stern concentration, the girl reached in with hands already white with milky flour. She plunged her pudgy fingers into the dough and began kneading. Behind them, the television muttered away to itself as a minor celebrity told whoever was interested how the recent satellite chaos was still affecting food and fuel prices. Both mother and daughter ignored it.


    ¡°That should do, I think,¡± said Samantha after a minute or two. ¡°Now take the dough out of the bowl and put it on the table there.¡±


    ¡°And now we roll it flat!¡± said Lily with delight.


    ¡°Well, first we¡¯ve got to separate it out into biscuit sized pieces. Pull a piece off, about as big as your hand.¡±


    The little girl did so. ¡°Good. Put it on the table there. Now keep pulling bits off until you''ve used it all up. Roll them up into circles of dough, then flatten them out. They need to be about a centimetre thick. Do you know what a centimetre is?¡±


    ¡°About this much,¡± said the girl, holding up a thumb and forefinger. ¡°Do we use the roller?¡±


    ¡°No, just pat them flat with your hands.¡±


    The little girl did so while her mother watched with delight. She had hopes that Lily would be an astronomer one day, following in her footsteps in the exploration of the cosmos. Something scientific anyway. Maybe, as she grew older, she would decide that her heart lay somewhere else. Biochemistry perhaps, or physics, but whatever it was, it would be a scientific career. She would be one of the great minds of her generation and her discoveries would take the world by storm. Until then, though, she was a little girl, and teaching your little girl how to cook biscuits was one of the great rites of passage. One of those landmark events of growing up, like the first day of school or having her measured for her first bra.


    Samantha drank in the moment, therefore, so she would remember it when Lily was all grown up with a husband and children of her own. She would be going about her day, doing something routine and boring, and something would happen to trigger the memory. Seeing someone dipping a biscuit in their tea, perhaps, or hearing someone talking about their own little girl. She would pause for a moment to remember this moment and she would smile as she remembered her little girl patting the lumps of dough flat with her pudgy, flour covered hands. Then she would put the memory away until next time as she went back to whatever it was she had been doing.


    So entranced was she with the scene playing out in front of her that it took her a moment to realise that the voice coming from the television had changed. The minor celebrity had gone and had been replaced by a news announcer saying something in a grim, serious voice. Something must have happened, she thought, but she paid it little attention. There were a number of ongoing stories in the news at the moment, from the Prime Minister desperate to win a crucial vote in parliament to the coastguard searching for a soap opera star whose light aircraft had vanished during a routine flight. Whatever it was, it would be on the main news tonight. She would pay it proper attention then.


    Then the news announcer said ¡°The moon¡± and both mother and daughter snapped their heads around at the exact same moment, black hair flying out in twin glossy fans. ¡°Members of the public are warned not to look directly at the moon during the event,¡± the announcer continued. ¡°Anyone wishing to watch should do so the same way as they would a solar eclipse, perhaps by looking through a piece of smoked glass.¡±


    ¡°What''s he talking about, Mummy?¡± asked Lily.


    ¡°Hush, baby,¡± said Samantha, the biscuits forgotten, her whole attention now on the television.


    The camera pulled out to reveal an expert looking man sitting in another chair beside the presenter. He had a neatly trimmed black heard and a pair of old fashioned spectacles that he kept taking off and polishing with a white handkerchief he kept in the breast pocket of his jacket. ¡°So, what can we expect to see?¡± the presenter asked him.


    ¡°Well, Tom, as you said earlier, the energy released by the event will be enough to melt the entire leading hemisphere of the moon. The moon will have an ocean of molten rock that will last for many years before it begins to crust over. Even after the surface is solid again, though, there will be a subsurface sea of magma that will fuel volcanic activity for thousands of years to come."


    ¡°Gods!¡± cried Samantha in shock. ¡°The second Scatter Cloud! It must be about to hit the moon! Phone! Call Neil Arndale!¡±


    Before the phone could obey her command, though, it began playing ¡®Moon Shadow¡¯ by Cat Stevens. ¡°Neil Arndale is calling,¡± the phone announced.


    ¡°Answer!¡± cried Samantha, and she ran across the room to grab her tablet, just in time as Neil''s face appeared in it. ¡°Sam!¡± he said, looking flustered and agitated. ¡°Have you seen the news?¡±


    ¡°The second Scatter Cloud?¡±


    Neil nodded. ¡°They finished calculating the cloud¡¯s exact course about an hour ago. The cloud¡¯s dense core is heading directly for the moon. Everyone will be able to see it, so they rushed to issue a press release as soon as possible. I¡¯m sorry we weren''t able to tell you earlier...¡±


    ¡°That''s okay,¡± said Samantha, glancing over at her brand new freezer, standing in the corner of the living room. The only place she had room for it. It was already stuffed full of frozen food and there were more deliveries due to come. She would have to reorganise both her freezers to make room for it.


    ¡°How big and how fast?¡± she asked.


    ¡°We estimate that the moon will be hit by between one and two by ten to the eighteenth tons of matter at around thirty kilometres per second. Sam, that¡¯s a total momentum about half of the momentum of the moon''s orbit around the Earth...¡±


    Samantha missed what he said next as everything went grey and she almost fainted. She clung to consciousness with an effort of willpower. ¡°That...¡± She managed to croak out. ¡°That means...¡±


    ¡°Mummy!¡± came Lilly¡¯s voice from the garden. ¡°Look at the moon!¡±


    A spike of fear ran up Samantha''s spine. She dropped the tablet onto the armchair and ran out into the garden to grab Lily¡¯s arm and drag her back indoors. ¡°Oow!¡± protested the girl in shock. ¡°You hurt me Mummy!¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Baby. But you mustn''t look. Like the man on the telly said. You''ll hurt your eyes.¡±


    She ran out to the garage, resisting an almost overwhelming temptation to look up, and fetched the telescope she''d bought for her daughter. It was a twelve inch reflector of the kind often described as a light bucket that stood on a tripod and had a motor that allowed it to track an object across the sky. It also had a wireless link that allowed it to transmit images that could be seen on a tablet or a television set. She set it up in the middle of the garden, turned it on and pulled up the app on her phone that allowed her to control it. She told it to look at the moon, then went inside and told the television to show the images it was transmitting.


    The entire eastern half of the full moon already looked subtly different. The features of the moon¡¯s face, its dark seas and rayed craters, looked blurry, as if they were seeing it through a pane of frosted glass. Dust, she realised. A layer of dust was being raised from the moon''s surface by the concussive impacts of thousands of cloud particles. They must be penetrating the moon''s crust, she realised. They weren''t exploding at the surface, as everyone had feared. Instead, they were penetrating miles below the surface before releasing the energy of their momentum in the form of heat that turned the moon rock around it instantly to vapour. The shockwaves of the explosions then travelled up to the surface where they shook up dust that had lain undisturbed for millions of years. In the vacuum, it would instantly fall back to the surface, but in the low gravity that would take time, and in the meantime it was obscuring their view of everything beneath it.


    ¡°Sam!¡± said Neil''s voice from the tablet. ¡°Sam! Are you there?¡±


    ¡°Right here, Neil,¡± said Samantha, picking it up again. ¡°Sorry, got distracted there for a moment. What more can you tell me?¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry, but we¡¯ve lost Copernicus. It must have been hit by a cloud particle. We lost contact with it forty five minutes ago.¡±


    Samantha felt a pang of loss, almost as if she''d lost a family member. The data being sent back by the lunar satellite had been the foundation of her career for over ten years. She had enough data stockpiled, not even glanced at yet, to keep her busy for the rest of her life, and probably the next two generations of lunar astronomers as well, but it was still a blow. When she looked back at the image on the television screen, though, she realised that she should have expected it. There was no way that Copernicus could have survived that!


    ¡°Did we get any data from the impact?¡± she asked. Copernicus had had instruments that monitored and sampled space dust, and if, by some miracle, the cloud particle had registered on them...


    ¡°We''re still studying the last few minutes of telemetry. All we¡¯ve got so far, though, is confirmation of what we knew already; that the cloud particles are composed of some unknown, extremely dense form of matter. We¡¯d probably have to actually get a cloud particle in the laboratory to learn more.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.     ¡°Could you actually do that? I mean, if some of them hit the earth?¡±


    ¡°Some have hit the earth. Not many, thank God, but there was a rash of a couple of hundred seismic disturbances across the western hemisphere a few hours ago. We think it was a mini cluster. There may be quite a few of them, all scattered around the main cluster. This one came in ahead of the main cluster, hit the Earth and took out several satellites. They evacuated the Harmony space station, it also took several hits. The astronauts are still on their way back down, so everyone''s hoping none of the re-entry vehicles are hit. Listen, I''ve got to go, Nina¡¯s on the blower. I''ll get back to you as soon as I can, okay?¡±


    ¡°Okay. Thanks for calling me.¡±


    ¡°Are you coming in?¡±


    ¡°Not yet. I don''t want to leave Lily right now. Maybe tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Okay. See you then, maybe.¡± Neil severed the connection and Samantha turned back to the television.


    ¡°Look at that, Mummy!¡± said Lily, pointing to the image of the moon. Her hands were still covered with flour, Samantha saw. She''d wiped them on her clothes, with only partial success. Samantha thought about sending her to the bathroom to get cleaned up, but then she saw what had agitated her and she gasped in shock.


    A number of bright spots had sprung up across the eastern limb of the moon. Samantha went to stand right in front of the television, close enough to be able to see the individual pixels of the image, but if anything it made the image less clear, not more. She knew what those bright spots had to be, though, and it made her long for a more powerful telescope. Her little light bucket just wasn''t up to the job.


    Then she laughed at her own stupidity. She was a world class astronomer. She had access to images sent back by the most powerful telescopes in the world, and they must all be focused on the moon at the moment. She went back to her tablet and called up the internet address of the Very Large Space Telescope Operations Control Centre in Guyana. She scrolled through the menus until she accessed the telescope¡¯s live feed, entered her password, and a very much more highly magnified image of the moon appeared on her tablet.


    She sent the image to her television. It showed a tiny part of the moon''s surface, an area just a couple of dozen miles across. The blurring effect of the moon dust was even greater at this magnification, but the object under it was so bright that it was easy to see nonetheless. A huge geyser of molten rock. A blazing, incandescent fountain of fire shooting to what must have been a height of several miles in magnificent slow motion before falling again to form a pool around its base. A river of molten rock was already beginning to flow along a narrow canyon, growing longer even as she watched.


    ¡°What is it, Mummy?¡± asked Lily, fear in her voice.


    Samantha put an arm around her shoulders and felt her tiny body trembling with terror. It was a fear Samantha felt as well, although in her case it was because she understood the magnitude of what she was seeing and understood what it meant. The likely consequences for the world.


    For Lily, though, it was the desecration of something she thought she knew that was scaring her. The moon had always been eternal, unchanging. You could memorise the names of features on its surface confident that they would always be there. It was the same moon that Julius Caesar had gazed up at, the same moon that the earliest cave men had seen shining in the night sky. Now, though, something tremendous was happening up there. Something she was incapable of understanding. It was a fear that would soon be repeated in homes and families all over the world; a wave of superstitious terror that would sweep the planet. At the moment you needed a powerful telescope to really see what was happening, but that wouldn¡¯t be true for much longer.


    Samantha imagined all those cloud particles delivering their payloads of energy a hundred kilometres below the surface, where the density of the moon¡¯s mantle finally became great enough to stop them. All that energy would be heating up those deep rocks, melting them, creating a vast sub-surface ocean of magma. As it heated it would expand and would look for any crack or fissure through which it could escape and some of it would make its way to the surface. The moon would end up with two oceans of magma. One on the surface, the other deep below. Maybe they would eventually join up as the rock between them broke up into pieces and sank.


    A sudden desire came over her to go outside and look up at the moon with her own naked eyes. She fought it down with an effort, and instead brought back the image being sent by her light bucket telescope. The number of bright spots had increased noticeably. Each one was a geyser of magma, she knew. Hundreds of them now, and around each one a cloud of smoke was gathering. Volcanic gases. Carbon dioxide, various sulphur compounds. Maybe even some water vapour, if some of Copernicus¡¯s latest findings were confirmed. Soon, they would cover the entire face of the moon, obscuring it from view for the first time since the Tycho impact, 109 million years before.


    ¡°There''s nothing to be scared of, is there Mummy?¡± said Lily, the fear in her voice tearing at Samantha''s heart. Her wide, dark, eyes stared up into hers, desperate for reassurance. Samantha''s first instinct was to confirm her desperate plea, ease her daughter''s fears, but events were now in motion that would have a devastating effect on the Earth and they would both have a better chance of coming through it if the little girl knew what to expect. If she could prepare herself for the ordeals to come.


    Before she could say anything, though, the doorbell rang. ¡°Your neighbour, Mrs Gunderson, is hat the door,¡± said the house computer in its Parker voice, a voice Samantha suddenly hated with a violent passion. Of course, she should have expected this. Everyone in her street knew she was a moon astronomer. Probably people for miles around. They would all be coming here, to hear her expert opinion on what was happening. There would probably be a television crew on her doorstep before long. She stared at the freezer in the corner of the room. If she let them in, they would see it and know she''d been stockpiling food. They would know she''d known something was coming and hadn''t told them. How would they react? Even if they didn''t react badly here and now, they would remember she had food when everything began going to hell. They would storm her house, steal her stash...


    She ran upstairs to the bathroom and grabbed a bed sheet, then ran back down again. She spread the sheet over the freezer, hiding it from view, and grabbed a few ornaments from around the house to place on it while Lily watched with puzzlement. Then she unplugged the freezer. The tell tale humming noise stopped. Now it looked like an ordinary chest of drawers, probably containing clothes or a selection of board games and covered because it was a hideously ugly family heirloom. Hopefully they wouldn¡¯t even question it, and so long as she kept the door closed the food inside should stay frozen for several hours. She would have to get rid of her guests before then.


    She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, then went to answer the door. Mrs Gunderson had been joined by Mrs Mosley from further along the street, as well as Mister Hillier, a retired widower who lived with a fifteen year old golden retriever. He didn''t have the dog with him, for which she was grateful, but there were curtains twitching all the way up and down the street and she knew it was only a matter of time before the small crowd outside her house grew. Best to get them inside, then, she decided, before it became a big crowd.


    She barely had the door open, though, before the questions began. ¡°What''s happening?¡± demanded Mrs Gunderson, her eyes wide and staring. ¡°What''s happening to the moon?¡± They were all alternating their attention between her and the late evening sky. The moon was still low and currently hidden from sight by the houses lining the street, but they looked anyway.


    ¡°You''d better come inside,¡± said Samantha reluctantly. Crowds tended to grow, and if she kept them on the doorstep other neighbours were likely to join them. The more of them there were, the longer it would take to get rid of them. She stood aside, therefore  and the three of them hurried past her as if to get out of a heavy downpour. It occurred to get that, in those places where the sky was covered with clouds, there might still be people who didn''t know that anything was happening, and she envied them their blissful ignorance.


    She closed the door behind them. ¡°You remember the Scatter Cloud?¡± she said. They nodded vigorously. ¡°Well, there¡¯s another one. A bigger one, and it¡¯s hit the moon.¡±


    ¡°So there''s no danger to us, then?¡± said Mister Hillier. ¡°I mean, the moon gets hit by asteroids all the time, right? I saw it on one of the science channels.¡±


    All they wanted was reassurance, Samantha realised. They wanted her to tell them there was no danger, that there would be nothing but an impressive light show following which everything would go back to normal. She saw it in their eyes as they stared hopefully at her. The fear, the uncertainty. The silent pleading for their hopes to be confirmed. She wished she could give them what they wanted.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid the danger is very real,¡± she said. ¡°The fact is that we''re seeing an event unparalleled in its size and importance since the early days of the solar system. You should all go home and make whatever preparations you can for a long period of chaos and uncertainty. Go to the shops and buy up as much food as you can before the shelves go empty. Also bottled water, medical supplies. It¡¯s very likely that we''re going to be thrown back on our own resources before long. The government and the authorities are going to be too busy trying to hold society together to look after individuals.¡±


    They stared at her in something like shocked betrayal. That wasn''t what she was supposed to say! ¡°You¡¯re joking, right?¡± said Mrs Gunderson. ¡°You make it sound like the end of the world.¡±


    ¡°It won''t be the end of the world,¡± said Samantha, ¡°but the world is going to change out of all recognition. It''s the nature of the impact, you see. If the moon had been hit by a single, solid mass, it would have been shattered and then it would have been the end, but the moon is being hit by millions of tiny objects. Was being hit, I should say. What''s left of the cloud has almost certainly moved past the moon by now. The remaining cloud particles will have been scattered all over the place by the moon''s gravity. Some of them will probably hit the Earth. Probably not enough to do us any real harm, except locally...¡±


    ¡°Why didn''t we get any warning of this?¡± demanded Mrs Mosley. ¡°Why didn''t they see it coming?¡±


    ¡°The cloud¡¯s invisible. They knew it would be passing close to the Earth, but there was a good chance it would just pass us by. They didn''t want to alarm people unnecessarily. There was every chance that the cloud would just pass us by and then head on, out of the solar system. Forever.¡±


    ¡°But it didn''t!¡± accused Mrs Mosley.


    ¡°No, it didn''t. We got unlucky. It wasn''t anyone¡¯s fault. No-one could have foreseen this...¡± She glanced over at the new freezer, then tore her eyes away before someone followed her gaze.


    ¡°So what happens now?¡± asked Mister Hillier. ¡°So the moon gets pummelled. How does that affect us?¡±


    ¡°The impact...¡± The magnitude of what she was trying to say was so great that, for a moment, the words choked up in her throat. It was as if, if she didn''t say it, it wouldn''t happen. Except that it had happened. The impact of the second Scatter Cloud with the moon was over. All that was left now was the gradual realisation of what would happen next.


    They¡¯d been slowly drifting away from the front door towards the living room while they''d been talking, and Mrs Gunderson caught sight of the television. With a gasp of shock she pushed her way past the others to stand beside Lily, who stared up at her with bewilderment. Samantha suddenly hated these neighbours who''d intruded into her house. She wanted to be alone with Lily so she could make plans. Decide how they were going to deal with the months and years ahead until the chaos of the transition period was over and the world settled down into its new reality.


    The western side of the full moon still looked completely normal, with the same dark seas and bright craters, but the eastern side was peppered with white as if it had been dusted with flour. Each white spot was a circle of volcanic cloud emitted by a magma geyser below. There was no wind to blow it around, not yet anyway, and so it just hung there, shining in reflected sunlight as it spread into the surrounding vacuum.


    ¡°The moon will survive,¡± said Samantha. ¡°It''ll have a new ocean of molten rock but it will survive. Eventually it will cool down again. The surface will solidify. New mountain ranges and valleys will form as the surface cools and shrinks. But...¡±


    ¡°But what?¡± demanded Mister Hillier. ¡°What aren''t you telling us?¡±


    ¡°It''s the sheer size of the cloud, you see. The mass, I mean. And the speed it was travelling at. We can calculate its momentum, and it¡¯s big, and it hit the moon in millions of tiny pieces instead on one big piece. Instead of a single giant impact, the moon received a gentle but insistent push, in a direction opposite to its motion around the Earth.¡±


    ¡°Which means?¡± asked Mister Hillier, his alarm growing.


    ¡°Which means,¡± said Samantha, ¡°that the moon''s orbit around the earth will have changed.¡±

 Chapter Fourteen

    ¡°Dear God!¡± gasped Alice, one hand going to her mouth.


    The others were too horrified by what they were seeing to even speak. The image of the moon being displayed on the common room''s wall mounted television screen was being sent back by one of the Lagrange probes, sent out to explore the collection of tiny rocks orbiting the sun sixty degrees ahead of and behind the Earth in its orbit. It showed the hemisphere of the moon opposite the cloud¡¯s impact site which, from this vantage point, was gibbous. Two thirds full. The centre of the moon''s face was still seas and craters, the moon as they''d always known it, but the window of visibility was rapidly shrinking as volcanic clouds closed in on all sides, the gas and dust rushing to fill the vacuum. Soon, within the hour, the circular hole in the clouds would close and the moon would have an atmosphere again for the first time in millions of years.


    ¡°If it had hit the Earth...¡± said Eddie, numb with shock. First the mass dampener in Martinique, then the alien spaceship, now this... One thing after another, with not enough time to process each shock before the next one hit. He felt that he''d fallen down a rabbit hole and was tumbling faster and faster down into the darkness, totally out of control. Animal panic threatened to sweep him away, making him want to run and hide. Find some dark little hole where he could pretend that the outside world was still comfortable and familiar. The world he''d lived in all his life. He held onto himself like a drowning man clutching hold of a life belt.


    ¡°If it had hit the Earth, it would all be over by now,¡± said Ben. ¡°We''d all be dead. Everyone would be dead. As it is, we''ve still got it all ahead of us.¡±


    The others nodded. They were all scientists, they all knew what was going to happen. The damning facts were being displayed on Stuart''s tablet, set up on the table where they could all see the figures and statistics that had been released by the home office.


    ¡°The moon''s been knocked into a new orbit,¡± said James. ¡°How long until we know what the new perigee will be?¡±


    ¡°There''s no telling how much of the cloud hit the moon,¡± said Stuart. ¡°We''ll have to wait until they make some observations. We could set some limits, though. Calculate the moon''s orbit if the entire mass of the cloud hit it, if only ten percent hit it, and so on.¡± He pulled his phone from his pocket, selected the calculator app.


    ¡°If this had happened to the aliens, they could have just pushed the moon back into its proper orbit,¡± said Frank. ¡°If a mass dampener the size of a walnut could shrink the mass of a thousand ton spaceship down to almost nothing, a dampener big enough for the moon might be around the size of a small city. Probably well within their abilities.¡±


    ¡°If we''d had more time, we could have done it ourselves,¡± said James miserably. ¡°Four and a half billion years the moon''s been circling the Earth, and then this happens just a hundred years before we had the technology, the industrial might, to correct it. We''ve probably lost our chance now. Civilisation will be hit hard. Mankind will be thrown back to a simpler lifestyle. We can say goodbye to the stars, probably forever. Anyone else think the timing¡¯s a bit suspicious?¡±


    ¡°You think this was done by hostile aliens?¡±  said Ben, the ghost of a smile on his lips. ¡°Why not just send the cloud to hit the Earth? Wipe us out and have done with it?¡±


    ¡°Maybe they don¡¯t want us dead. Maybe they¡¯re just afraid of the progress we''ve made. Or maybe they meant to hit the Earth and missed.¡±


    ¡°Missed?¡± said Ben incredulously. ¡°We can aim a probe at a tiny lump of ice twenty billion klicks away with an accuracy of a couple of kilometres. They have the ability to do that...¡± He pointed at the television. ¡°...and they missed?¡±


    ¡°A cloud¡¯s not the same as a space probe. A probe¡¯s a single object, you can make course corrections. How do you give a cloud a course correction? Then there¡¯s the composition of the cloud particles. Some kind of exotic material so dense that a teaspoon of it weighs a thousand tons. We''ve been trying to think of a natural explanation and failing. We''ve got no idea at all what it could be made of. Maybe it¡¯s artificial.¡±


    ¡°And maybe we just don¡¯t know enough about the Universe yet to know what it''s capable of. Let''s give the fanciful speculation a rest, okay?¡±


    ¡°A mass dampener wouldn''t be any good anyway,¡± said Alice. ¡°I assume you¡¯re thinking of shrinking the moon''s mass, then putting a rocket engine on it and pushing it, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, something like that.¡±


    ¡°As soon as you removed the moon''s mass, its internal pressure would push it apart. The moon would literally explode.¡±


    The others stared at her as they realised she was right. ¡°Well, perhaps we could turn the device on and off every couple of seconds,¡± suggested James. ¡°It''ll take a good bit longer then two seconds for the moon to fly apart, right? You reduce the moon''s mass for two seconds, or whatever the safe length of time turns out to be, and fire the rocket engine during those two seconds. An ion drive can turn on and off Instantly, so that wouldn¡¯t be a problem. Then you turn off the rocket engine and the mass dampener for a few minutes, long enough for the moon''s gravity to pull it together again. We push the moon a little bit at a time, not all in one go.¡±


    ¡°There''s another problem,¡± said Alice, though. ¡°The rocket engine would be within the mass dampener¡¯s area of effect. The exhaust would also be massless. It wouldn¡¯t be able to push anything.¡± The others nodded dismally.


    ¡°You could put the mass dampener on the moon¡¯s forward hemisphere,¡± mused Jessica thoughtfully, ¡°with its area of effect precisely calculated so that it just barely encompasses the whole of the moon. Then you put the rocket engine on the trailing hemisphere, raised up on a scaffold so that it¡¯s just outside the area of effect.¡±


    ¡°The moon¡¯s forward hemisphere is soon going to be an ocean of magma,¡± pointed out Ben.


    ¡°So you build a platform that floats on magma. How much heat can a shuttle''s heat shield take? If you made a boat made from a shuttle''s heat resistant tiles...¡±


    ¡°Even if the platform survived, it would still conduct the heat. Heat shields protect shuttles by evaporating and carrying heat away. Your platform couldn''t do that. Even if the platform itself could survive the heat, the mass dampener would melt.¡±


    ¡°So we put the mass dampener above the moon¡¯s surface. The moon''s going to have an atmosphere soon. We could build a balloon to carry the mass dampener up in the clouds, safely above the moon''s surface.¡±


    ¡°There''s probably going to be fierce turbulence. The balloon would bob up and down. Your rocket engine on the other side of the moon will occasionally be engulfed by the mass dampener¡¯s area of effect.¡±


    ¡°Maybe that wouldn¡¯t matter, so long as it was outside the area of effect for long enough.¡±


    ¡°The mass dampener would still need to be the size of a city, remember? You''d need one hell of a balloon! And besides, our prototype dampener can only reduce mass by about seventy five percent. Maybe in a hundred years we¡¯ll have something practical...¡±


    ¡°In a hundred years we¡¯ll be back to living in straw huts and herding goats,¡± said James, looking over Stuart''s shoulder at the results his calculator had come up with. Karen also leaned closer to look and her face went white. ¡°Our descendants will look back on a golden age when we flew through the sky and talked to machines.¡±


    Eddie found himself following the conversation as the shock began to wear off and he became aware of the world again. ¡°How much energy would your city sized mass dampener need?¡± he asked. ¡°You needed a car¡¯s fuel cell for your prototype.¡±


    ¡°The original alien dampeners only needed a tiny amount of power,¡± said Frank. ¡°The power lines leading to them were tiny threads of superconductor just a few atoms wide. You wouldn''t have been able to power a wristwatch with the power you could feed through them.¡±


    ¡°So, what would happen if you fed more power into them?¡±


    ¡°They''d burn out, I expect.¡±


    ¡°Would they? You said most of the energy went elsewhere. You fed enough energy into your prototype that it should have melted, but it only became rather warm. What happens if you feed more energy into your prototype? I assume you tried it.¡±


    ¡°The area of effect grew larger, but the mass inside was still reduced by the same amount.¡±


    ¡°How big were you able to get the area of effect?¡±


    The others stared at each other as they realised what he was suggesting. ¡°We never pushed it to the limit,¡± said Ben. ¡°We were afraid of burning it out. It was our prototype, we didn''t want to damage it.¡±


    ¡°But you could build another prototype if you had to,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°Oh yes! Easily, now that he know how.¡±


    ¡°Then I think the time''s come to push it to the limit,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Let¡¯s put as much power as we can into it and see what happens.¡±


    Ben laughed. ¡°The philosophy of the mad scientist,¡± he said.


    ¡°If the world''s going to be saved, it¡¯s the mad scientists who¡¯ll do it. I think we can assume that whatever happens to your reverse engineered prototype will also happen to the original alien mass dampeners. I''m going to hook that prototype up to the biggest generator I can find. Who''s with me?¡±


    The others stared at each other again. ¡°Hell, let¡¯s do it!¡± said James. ¡°What have we got to lose?¡±


    He and Eddie rose from their seats and led the way towards the door. The others started to follow him, but the scenes still being displayed on the television had an almost hypnotic attraction that it was hard to tear their attention away from. ¡°Come on!¡± said James impatiently. ¡°What''s happening up there is so big it''ll take hours to happen. The compression quakes are over. Soon, there''ll be nothing to look at except a layer of impenetrable clouds.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°He''s right,¡± said Ben. ¡°Let''s go.¡±


    He followed the first two men out of the room, and this time the others followed.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    It took over an hour for Samantha to get her frightened neighbours out of the house, and she plugged the freezer in again with relief.  She was feeling rather proud of herself that she''d managed to avoid letting them know the full nightmare of what was to come and had managed to reassure them without actually lying. A week from now, of course, they would discover the awful truth for themselves, but she''d cross that bridge when she came to it.


    She was thinking about putting Lily to bed for the night when the doorbell rang again. ¡°There are some gentlemen hat the door, M¡¯lady,¡± the house computer told her. ¡°Nobody we know, I''m afraid.¡±


    Samantha cursed. More neighbours! How many times was she going to have to go through this?  She wasn''t going to let them into the house this time, though. She''d cossetted them enough, and she needed time with her daughter. Let them talk to her first group of guests. They could pass on what she''d told them already. She went to the door  therefore, composing in her mind the words she¡¯d use to send them on their way.


    The two men on her doorstep weren''t neighbours, though. They were serious looking men in black suits, and there was a large, black car parked out in the street. ¡°Samantha Kumiko?¡± one of them asked.


    ¡°Yes? What do you want?¡±


    ¡°You are the Samantha Kumiko who is an astronomer and an expert on the moon?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°My name is Henry Bayliss and this is Andrew MacNally. We work for the government. We''ve been ordered to escort you to a meeting of the COBRA committee to discuss the current situation with the moon. Will you come with us, please?¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait! What? The COBRA committee? You mean in Downing Street? With the Prime Minister?¡± This can''t be real, she thought. There must be some mistake. But then she reflected again on what was about to happen, the effect the moon''s new orbit would have on the world, and she realised that of course it was real. Despite popular opinion, government ministers weren''t fools. They knew that what was happening was huge, and they wanted to know what to expect, what they would have to plan for. And, all modesty aside, she knew that she was the world¡¯s greatest expert on the moon. She should have expected this.


    ¡°I''ll need to arrange a babysitter for my daughter. That might take some time, I¡¯m afraid...¡±


    ¡°Bring her with you. Someone will look after her while you''re in the meeting.¡±


    Samantha felt a little hand slip into hers and looked down to see Lily standing beside her, looking nervously up into her face. ¡°She''s tired, it¡¯s her bedtime. And I don''t want to leave her among strangers right now. She''s frightened. She needs me to be with her.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Miss, she''ll be fine. We often have people bringing their kids with them. She''ll probably have a great time, and she¡¯ll have one hell of a story to tell when she¡¯s older.¡±


    ¡°I''m afraid we have to insist, Miss,¡± said the other man. ¡°Can''t keep the Prime Minister waiting.¡±


    Samantha saw that he was serious. They would probably carry her off by force if she refused. Best to make the best of it, then. ¡°Very well,¡± she said. ¡°I just have to turn some things off and lock up. I won''t be a minute.¡±


    She took Lily back inside and the two men followed her, perhaps thinking she might try to escape out the back door. They watched her intently as she brought the telescope inside and locked the door, but then they saw the television, still showing the pictures being sent back by the space telescope. ¡°Bloody Hell!¡± the first one said. Samantha saw that he was genuinely shocked.


    The image was in shades of grey, as the telescope used wavelengths of light able to penetrate the clouds that now completely covered the moon. The magma geyser had doubled in size and had been joined by a number of others, standing in a small cluster in the middle of a lake of molten rock that filled the image. Its size was made evident by the slowness with which fiery globs of rock were thrown upwards, darkening as they cooled, and then the lazy, viscous splashes they made as they fell back to the surface. Part of the slowness was due to the moon''s low gravity, of course, but it was still clear that what they were seeing was a seismic event on a colossal scale.


    As if that wasn''t dramatic enough, the roiling clouds above the geysers were lit with continuous lightning discharges, each one many times larger than anything that had been seen on Earth in human history. After countless aeons of slumber, the moon was now alive with apocalyptic activity on a scale to stun even the most jaded, cynical or philosophical man. Samantha didn''t doubt that the two government men had seen their share of violence and had probably thought they were beyond being awed by any purely natural spectacle, but now they were staring at the television screen like children, their eyes staring as they struggled to process what they were seeing.


    ¡°Thank God that¡¯s all happening a quarter of a million miles away,¡± said the first man, tearing his attention away with an effort. ¡°That can''t hurt us down here, can it?¡±


    ¡°Then why¡¯s the PM want to see her?¡± asked the other. ¡°The emergency committee! COBRA only meets when something big¡¯s going down.¡± He turned to Samantha. ¡°What''s it mean?¡± he demanded. ¡°What''s it mean for us?¡±


    Samantha turned off the television and unplugged it. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in the car,¡± she said. ¡°I''m finished here. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    By the time they arrived at the airport, fifteen minutes later, the two men were looking genuinely scared. ¡°We live down by the coast,¡± the first one said. ¡°We''ve been thinking of moving inland for a long time, because of the rising sea levels. You say we¡¯ve only got a couple of weeks before... Before what you said?¡±


    ¡°Thirteen days before it''s at its worst. It''ll probably be bad enough a day or two before and after that as well.¡±


    The man began to curse, stopped himself when he remembered there was a six year old girl in the car with them. ¡°My sister lives in Swindon, we might go move in with her. Will that be high enough, do you think?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say yet. We don''t know how badly the moon''s orbit¡¯s been affected yet, but Swindon will almost certainly be better than Bristol.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to move?¡± asked the second man. ¡°You know better than anyone what¡¯s coming...¡±


    ¡°The highland areas are going to be crowded with refugees. Millions of people living in tent cities. I live at the top of a hill, thirty metres above sea level. I think I''ll be better off staying put.¡± Both men nodded soberly.


    There was a helicopter waiting for them at the airport. The two men drove the car straight onto the runway, then got out and stood by the door while Samantha and Lily got out. The helicopter had its engine running. The wind from its spinning rotors tugged at their clothing and the noise from its engine meant that they had to shout to be heard. ¡°That''s your ride to London!¡± the first man shouted. ¡°It''ll take you to London City airport, where another car will meet you and take you to Downing Street.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Samantha. ¡°And good luck.¡±


    ¡°You too.¡± The man then got back in the car, which turned and drove away.


    There was a man standing beside the helicopter. Samantha took Lily¡¯s hand and walked over to him. He indicated the open door and Samantha helped Lily to climb in. Then she followed after her. The man then climbed into the cockpit.


    There was another man inside the cabin, waiting for them. He closed the door to shut out most of the noise. ¡°Welcome aboard, Mrs Kumiko. Thank you for coming.¡±


    ¡°I got the impression I didn''t have much of a choice.¡± She sat in one of the sumptuous, padded seats, next to Lily, and helped her put her seatbelt on. The helicopter¡¯s passenger cabin was luxurious, with wood effect panelling on the bulkheads and a white carpet under their feet. There was even a drinks cabinet, she saw, although their host made no move towards it.


    ¡°I''m sorry about that,¡± he said, ¡°but this is a matter of national security. If we''d had more time we''d have been more civilised about it. As it is, I can only apologise and ask for your understanding.¡±


    ¡°That''s okay. The fact is, I probably know better than you do just how urgent the situation is and I¡¯m actually rather relieved that the government''s taking it seriously.¡±


    The man looked out the window, up into the sky. The moon was just disappearing behind some clouds, but he got enough of a look to see that the familiar seas and highlands had entirely disappeared. The moon was now a featureless disk of grey. It looked like a dull, silvery ball bearing hanging in the sky. ¡°Looks so harmless,¡± he said. Then he gave a guilty start. ¡°Oh! Do forgive my bad manners! My name is Philby. Captain Miles Philby.¡±


    ¡°Pleased to meet you, Captain.¡± The helicopter¡¯s engine grew louder as the pilot told the autopilot to lift off, and then the passengers felt a gentle lurch as the aircraft climbed into the sky.


    It was Lily¡¯s first time in a helicopter and she stared out the window as the ground receded beneath them, oblivious to all else. Samantha, though, was more concerned with the current emergency and pulled her phone from a pocket. ¡°Do you mind?¡± she asked, looking up at the Captain.


    ¡°Not at all. Please.¡± He gestured at the phone and Samantha smiled gratefully as she called Neil Arndale.


    ¡°Neil!¡± she said when he answered. ¡°What have we got?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re getting the first results from the Lagrange probes,¡± her supervisor replied, and there was a note to his voice that Samantha had never heard before. She thought it might have been fear. ¡°We¡¯re watching the moon''s motion against the background stars. We still need to confirm it, but I think we''ve got its new velocity pretty much nailed down.¡± There was a pause before he spoke again, as if he was about to pronounce a death sentence. ¡°One thousand, seven hundred and fifty kilometres per hour.¡±


    Samantha felt her face go pale. She''d pretty much known beforehand. The mass of the Scatter Cloud, the speed it had been moving... She''d been able to do the calculations in her head, but there''d been the hope that she might have been wrong. Maybe the main bulk of the cloud had missed the moon, or perhaps the individual cloud particles had been so small and dense that they¡¯d passed right through the moon without imparting their full momentum to it. Just a dream, but she¡¯d been clutching at any hope, no matter how vain. Now, though, those hopes were dashed, and everything she¡¯d dreaded had become as inevitable as tomorrow''s sunrise.


    ¡°That''s less than half what it was,¡± she said, surprising herself with how calm her voice sounded. She glanced over at Lily, still staring out the window.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°How could the moon survive something like that?¡±


    ¡°The cloud applied itself evenly to the whole face of the moon, and the force was applied deep below the surface. A very effective way to carry out a course change.¡±


    ¡°I''m afraid I''m not really in the mood to appreciate it.¡±


    "There''s something else. The event seems to be heating the moon a lot more than we expected. The size of the magma ocean, its temperature, they''re much greater than we expected. It''s now looking as though the entire volume of the moon is going to melt."


    Samantha stared with shock. "I crunched the numbers," she said. "The mass of the cloud, the speed with which it hit... It took me just a couple of minutes to calculate how much energy it delivered to the moon."


    "We ran the same numbers, but the numbers are wrong. There''s another source of energy in there, something we haven''t accounted for. Best we can think of is that the cloud particles are decaying into another form of matter and releasing heat in the process. Triggered by the energy of the impact maybe. Whatever the reason, the melting is happening so fast that I can''t see it stopping until the entire moon is a single giant ball of molten rock."


    Samantha felt her guts tightening up inside her. It almost felt as though a doctor had given her a cancer diagnosis. "Shit," she said. It was all she could think of to say.


    ¡°Yeah. We''re getting ready to evacuate the university. We¡¯re way too close to the coast here. Don''t bother coming back. I''ll send you a mail when we¡¯ve got a new home sorted out, if we get a new home. The authorities are likely to have other priorities in the weeks to come.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Astronomy may be a luxury humanity just won''t be able to afford for a generation or two. We are going to come through this, aren''t we? Mankind, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Of course we are. Humans are adaptable creatures. It''s going to be hard, I don''t need to tell you that. The transition period will be tough, casualties will be massive, but eventually the survivors will adapt to the new reality. A century from now, people will be watching movies about this on their tellies from the comfort of their living rooms, just like we watch movies about the second world war today.¡±


    ¡°I hope so. Good luck, Neil. Take care, you and your family.¡±


    ¡°And you, Sam. Hope to see you soon.¡± Neil cut the connection and the screen went dark.


    ¡°What was he talking about?¡± asked Captain Philby Samantha looked across at him, and saw that he¡¯d been greatly disturbed by the conversation. ¡°Massive casualties? What did he mean?¡±


    Samantha sighed, and for the second time within the space of half an hour she explained in full graphic detail what was about to happen while the helicopter flew across the dark, night time English countryside.

 Chapter Fifteen

    ¡°Okay, cut the power,¡± said Ben, his breath puffing around him in the cold night air.


    Eddie did so, and felt full weight return to his body. The prototype mass dampener was gently smoking in the headlights of the transit van, but no worse than it had the first time, in Martinique, despite having had a thousand times more energy fed into it. Frank was right, he now knew. No matter how much energy you fed into it, most of it just went elsewhere.


    ¡°Twenty metres!¡± called out Stuart, grinning with excitement as he came running back across the grassy field behind the main building of Wilson''s Defence Contractors. ¡°We''ve extended its area of effect nearly tenfold, and still exactly a seventy six percent reduction in mass.¡±


    The machine and the truck containing the largest portable generator they could find had been set up beside a football field. The football field itself was muddy with slushy, half melted snow and heavily churned up by the studded football boots that ran across it every Thursday and Saturday as the staff tried to keep fit despite having jobs that mainly involved sitting down. The ground around the edge of the pitch was fairly solid, but Eddie had still worried that the van might get bogged down in the waterlogged ground. When he''d voiced his concerns, though, Ben had just laughed and said that, if that happened, they''d reduce the van¡¯s mass by three quarters and just lift it out. Eddie had glanced around at the others. None of them had seemed worried. They must have driven the van across the field many times before and knew it was solid enough to take it.


    Behind them, the four storey building had a great many large, plate glass windows. Many of them were still occupied despite the late hour and contained faces looking curiously out at them. Ben had said that most of them knew nothing about the alien spaceship or what the top scientists were really working on. What were they thinking about the small group of people standing in the middle of a field in the middle of the night? Could they possibly deduce what they were doing just by watching them? None of the others seemed to think so, and so he''d shrugged and put it out of his mind.


    They had had to keep moving the pair of scales with its five kilo weight further and further away from the van¡¯s headlights to find the edge of the mass dampener¡¯s new area of effect every time they upped the power, until they were finally giving it every watt the generator was capable of producing. ¡°The radius increases in proportion with the cube of the power input,¡± said James. ¡°Pretty much what he expected. If we could feed even more power into it, would the area just keep growing?¡±


    ¡°The transformers would blow...¡± began Ben, wrapping his arms around his body against the cold. He hadn''t brought a coat, because it wasn''t that cold and there wasn''t any wind. The cold had gradually seeped in, though, and now he was wishing he¡¯d wrapped up like the others.


    ¡°Yes, I know,¡± snapped James impatiently. ¡°But if you put in larger transformers, replaced all the cabling to carry a heavier current...¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯m guessing yes,¡± replied the older man. ¡°There doesn¡¯t seem to be a limit to the area of effect.¡±


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe this is actually possible,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°There has to be something in the laws of nature to forbid it, right? I mean, the mass dampener could be used to generate limitless free energy, and you just can¡¯t do that.¡± He looked around at the others as if daring them to contradict him. ¡°You reduce the mass of an object, lift it up into the air, then allow it to return to full mass. You can extract energy from it as it falls again. Where does that energy come from? If you use some of that energy to power the mass dampener and lift another mass-dampened object, you''ve got a perpetual motion machine!¡± in physics, the discovery that a theory allowed a perpetual motion machine to be built was taken as absolute proof that the theory was false. Nature never gave away free lunches.


    ¡°We''ve wrangled with that thought ourselves,¡± admitted Ben. ¡°We decided in the end that the energy has to come from somewhere, we just don''t know where. Most of the energy we¡¯ve been feeding into that thing just disappears without trace. We''ve been assuming it goes somewhere. Some higher dimension perhaps. The energy your perpetual motion machine generates presumably comes from the same place.¡± As Eddie stared doubtfully at him he pushed on. ¡°Look, the machine works! You''ve seen it! To take Galileo slightly out of context, eppur si muove.¡±


    Eddie nodded, still unhappy but unable to deny it. ¡°So when we¡¯ve finished with the moon, we¡¯ve got a device that can generate free energy in unlimited quantities. No pollution, no radioactive waste. They''ll call it a hoax.¡±


    ¡°Until they see it for themselves, like you did.¡±


    ¡°This one device can give us the galaxy and keep the environmentalists happy,¡± said Stuart, grinning with delight.


    ¡°When we¡¯ve finished with the moon,¡± said Alice with a smile.


    ¡°Well, yes. We can do it. We can push the moon back into its original orbit. We need to work out a few details, of course.¡±


    ¡°Like the fact that, to encompass the whole moon, we''ll need a generator that can put out...¡± She did some quick mental arithmetic. ¡°About twenty thousand terawatts of power. And even then, we can only reduce the moon''s mass by seventy six percent.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Obviously we''ll need to use one of the original alien mass dampeners.¡±


    ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll be willing to give them back?¡± asked Jessica.


    ¡°Both the Chinese and the Americans may already have had the same idea,¡± said Ben. ¡°We gave them the blueprints for the prototype mass dampener, they''ve probably already built one of their own. They may have discovered the cubic size to power relationship by now. Either country might decide to take their alien device up to the moon on one of their own shuttles.¡±


    ¡°Along with a generator big enough to power it?¡±


    ¡°The original alien device required far less power. We think about five petawatts. If it¡¯s capable of generating a field large enough to encompass the whole moon, we could power it with that generator right there.¡± He indicated the generator sitting in the back of the truck. ¡°It can easily be carried up to the moon in a shuttle. One of them might be preparing a shuttle for launch right now.¡±


    ¡°If a device designed to take only five petawatts can survive having a thousand, million million times as much power pumped through it.¡±


    ¡°Most of the power goes elsewhere, remember? The power doesn''t go through the device. It goes elsewhere.¡±


    ¡°But even so, it¡¯s insane to think it¡¯s possible! If someone tried, they¡¯d very likely just vaporize an irreplaceable piece of genuine alien technology.¡± She glanced around at the others, her eyes going from face to face searching for someone who shared her concerns. ¡°Wouldn''t they?¡± she insisted.


    ¡°With the stakes as high as they are, I think someone has to try it,¡± said Eddie. Around him, some of the others were nodding soberly. ¡°You all know what''s going to happen if the moon''s allowed to remain in its new orbit.¡± He looked at Jessica, silently beseeching her to understand. ¡°You know what''s going to happen,¡± he repeated. He held her with his eyes, and after a moment she also nodded. ¡°We have the prototype,¡± said Eddie. ¡°We may have no idea how it works, but we''ll figure it out eventually. If we do vaporize the original devices, well, it would be a tragedy of course, but not a disaster. We¡¯ve had them long enough to figure out how to create mass dampeners of our own. Over the years to come we''ll improve on them. Make them better and smaller until we can make devices that can equal the performance of the original. What I¡¯m saying is that we¡¯ve probably learned all we can from the originals. We could study them for a thousand years and not learn anything more. We''ll be losing nothing by putting them to practical use, even if they''re destroyed in the attempt.¡±


    Ben nodded. ¡°He''s right,¡± he said. ¡°I think I need to start making some phone calls.¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Lily fell asleep as the helicopter flew across the night time English countryside and Samantha changed seats to sit beside her so the little girl could lean against her shoulder. Below them, the street lights, shining brilliantly in the darkness, were growing denser as they approached the outskirts of London, and the moon was now about twenty degrees above the horizon, the highest it would get during an English winter. It had reappeared from behind the line of clouds, and she thought the disk of grey was slightly brighter on its eastern side than its western side, as if the clouds blanketing it were being lit from beneath by rapidly growing lakes of lava.


    Captain Philby sat in silence on the other side of the passenger cabin as he digested what Samantha had just told him. He was looking scared, and Samantha guessed that he was making plans to get his family safely away from the coast before the rush for higher ground began. She was grateful for the silence, because it gave her a chance to rehearse in her mind what she was going to say to the Prime Minister and the other dignitaries she was on her way to meet. Having delivered the bad news to people three times now had been good practice, but she¡¯d made mistakes. Told things in the wrong order and failed to make herself understood because she''d forgotten her audience didn''t have the same scientific knowledge she had. When she briefed the COBRA committee, she would have to get it right.


    Eventually the helicopter began to descend, and looking out the window she saw the lights of London City Airport growing ahead of them. A few minutes later they were setting down on the tarmac and Captain Philby roused himself to disembark. As the door opened, Samantha saw another black car standing few dozen metres away with another two black suited men standing beside it.


    ¡±Here we are,¡± he said as Samantha gently picked up her sleeping daughter, trying not to wake her. ¡°These gentlemen will take you the rest of the way.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Captain.¡±


    The Captain climbed back aboard the helicopter, and as soon as Samantha and her daughter were far enough away it lifted back into there air with a blast of downdraught that tugged at her clothes and made Lily stir uneasily in her arms.


    One of the black suited man came forward to meet her. ¡°Mrs Kumiko?¡± She replied that that was indeed who she was. ¡°My name is Simon Deneuve and this is my colleague Montgomery Garfield. We''re here to take you to Downing Street.¡±


    ¡°Very good,¡± said Samantha, looking down at Lily¡¯s face. She was still sound asleep, she was relieved to see. ¡°Could you please speak softly? I don''t want my daughter to wake up.¡±


    ¡°My apologies, ma''am,¡± the man replied, speaking in a softer voice. ¡°Will you please climb into the car?¡±


    The door opened for her as she approached and she laid her daughter carefully on the seat. Then she walked around to the other side of the car, got in and sat down beside her. Both doors closed by themselves. The two black suited men then got into the front seats and the car moved silently away towards the exit onto Hartmann Road.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    The COBRA committee was named after the room in which the meetings took place. Committee Office Briefing Room A. It was much smaller than Samantha had expected. Barely large enough for the large wooden table and the twenty chairs that stood around it. The walls were wood panelled, except for one of the small walls that was covered with eight large monitor screens.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    At the moment, all eight were showing telescope images of the moon. One showed the whole of the moon, now looking like Venus with its covering of dense clouds. Another showed a close up of the eastern hemisphere, and Samantha was fascinated to see the clouds roiling with convection cells as it was heated from beneath. A third screen showed a real time infra red image of the same part of the moon. It showed patches of heat. A large one right on the limb itself with smaller ones around it. Large lakes of lava heating the clouds above, joining up with each other as they grew. Even as she watched, a small island of cold blue shrank and disappeared as a piece of lunar crust was swallowed up by the molten rock that melted it from all sides.


    A secretary had taken a still sleeping Lily from her arms as she entered the building. ¡°We''ll take good care of her,¡± she promised. ¡°You''re not the first person to bring a small child. We''ve got a room at the back outfitted as a nursery, with armed guards who all have children of their own and know how to look after her if she wakes up. She''ll be waiting for you safe and sound when you¡¯re ready to leave.¡± Samantha had thanked her, and then watched with some anxiety as the woman took her daughter through a door into another room. Then an aide had shown her through into the committee room.


    The Prime Minister, Richard Garrison, was already there, waiting for her, along with a dozen other men and women. ¡°Thank you for coming,¡± he said, standing. ¡°I''m sorry we weren''t able to give you enough notice to make proper arrangements for your daughter...¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± replied Samantha. ¡°I''m pleased and relieved that you understand the urgency of the situation.¡±


    Richard Garrison nodded, and then made introductions. In addition to himself, there were three other members of the cabinet present. David Lemmons, the Home Secretary, Thomas Chesterfield, the Secretary of State for Health and Social care, and Rebecca Bingley, the Secretary of State for the Environment and Rural Affairs. The Government¡¯s Chief Scientific Advisor, Leonard Green, was also there, as was the President of the Royal Astronomical Society, Lewis Morgan. ¡°I¡¯m a big fan of your work,¡± he said, rising from his seat to offer his hand. She shook it with a grateful smile. She was feeling a bit intimidated, and a familiar face went a long way to making her feel better. ¡°I read your paper on helium three. The plans to go up to the moon and mine it.¡±


    ¡°I''m pretty sure that plan''s a dead duck now,¡± said Samantha ruefully. She quickly told them what Neil Arndale had told her on the helicopter.


    Morgan nodded. "We got the same news just a few minutes ago," he said. "Incredible!"


    "And as the moon melts, all that helium three the moon¡¯s been collecting for billions of years is now being boiled off into space," Samantha added. "What a waste!"


    ¡°Could have been just the thing to finally get fusion off the ground¡± agreed the other astronomer.


    The Prime Minister waited patiently for the exchange to end before introducing the other members of the council, all of whom were civil servants, senior police officers and high ranking army officers. The he directed her to the chair that had been set aside for her. ¡°So,¡± he said. ¡°These two science chappies have been filling my head with all kinds of doom and gloom disaster stories. Floods, earthquakes, that sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°I''m afraid they''re quite correct, Sir,¡± Samantha replied. ¡°The moon has been knocked into a new orbit, one that will bring it much closer to the Earth every twenty nine days. Tides will be much higher during the close approach, and there will indeed be an increase in the number and ferocity of earthquakes during that twenty four hour period, before the moon moves away again. Some of those earthquakes may very well be in the United Kingdom, and may reach magnitudes of seven or eight on the Richter scale.¡±


    Everyone stared at her. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious!¡± said one of the civil servants.


    Samantha looked at him. ¡°I''m afraid I am. Britain does indeed contain fault lines, but since we¡¯re located so far from the nearest region of tectonic activity they rarely have enough stress put on them to cause them to slip. That is soon about to change.¡±


    ¡°Where are these fault lines?¡± asked the Home Secretary.


    ¡°I can show you if any of those monitors are connected to the internet.¡±


    ¡°They are indeed,¡± said the Prime Minister. ¡°There are firewalls, of course, for security purposes, but... Winston, are you there?¡±


    ¡°Where else would I be?¡± said Winston Churchill''s voice from the air all around them.


    ¡°Winston, please recognise Samantha Kumiko. Give her security access level three.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    The Prime Minister then turned back to Samantha. ¡°Please identify yourself to Winston.¡±


    Samantha nodded. ¡°My name is Samantha Kumiko. I¡¯m head of lunar studies at Bristol University.¡±


    ¡°Your voice print has been analysed and stored successfully. Pleased make your enquiries.¡±


    ¡°Please display a map of The United Kingdom on one of those monitors showing all known tectonic fault lines. Also, display the epicentres of all earthquakes in the UK of magnitude four and above during the past hundred years.¡±


    The map, when it appeared a moment later, filled the four middle screens and a collective gasp rose from around the table. ¡°Shit!¡± said the Home Secretary. ¡°They''re everywhere!¡±


    ¡°One goes right through London!¡± said the Chief of Police.


    ¡°Most of those fault lines are minor and probably nothing to worry about,¡± said Samantha, ¡°But some of them will almost certainly cause trouble during the moon''s closest approach. Your science advisor can probably help you out there better than I can.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I''m a chemist, not a geologist,¡± said Leonard Green. ¡°However, I''m sure the government will have no trouble getting hold of a geologist.¡± The Prime Minister nodded.


    ¡°Most of the earthquakes are in Scotland and Wales,¡± said one of the army officers, looking splendid on his uniform and medals. He seemed pleased and relieved by the observation.


    ¡°The Scots and the Welsh are just as much UK citizens as the rest of us,¡± said the Home Secretary icily.


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± said the General indignantly, ¡°But if the home counties are relatively unaffected by the coming calamities, they''ll be better able to offer help to the highland areas.¡±


    ¡°The home counties will be less affected by the earthquakes, it''s true,¡± said Samantha, ¡°but they''ll be hit harder by the flooding.¡±


    ¡°Flooding?¡±


    ¡°As the moon comes closer, tides will be higher. Much higher. Huge coastal areas will be flooded.¡±


    ¡°Just how close will it come?¡± asked the Prime Minister.


    ¡°We''re still waiting for the exact figures,¡± said Samantha, ¡°but Neil Arndale, my director at the University of Bristol, gave me some preliminary figures earlier this evening that indicate that, at perigee, the moon will be only around a hundred and fifteen thousand kilometres from the Earth. That''s about a third of the current distance...¡±


    ¡°Good God!¡± said Leonard Green. ¡°That can¡¯t be right!¡± He looked pale, as if he might be about to faint. Lewis Morgan also looked shocked, but the others, the ones lacking that level of scientific knowledge, merely looked confused.


    ¡°I''m afraid there¡¯s no doubt that the figure will be somewhere in that neighbourhood.¡±


    ¡°So tides will be three times as high as they are now? said the General. ¡°On top of the rise in sea levels caused by global warming...¡±


    ¡°Er, no, I''m afraid not,¡± said Leonard Green, making a visible effort to get himself back under control. He was doing some rapid calculations on his phone. ¡°Gravitational attraction increases as the square of the distance, and the height of the tides increases as the cube."


    ¡°There are other factors to consider as well,¡± added Lewis Morgan. ¡°Oceanic friction, the fact that it takes time for that much water to move. The seas may not have time to rise to their full height before the rotation of the Earth carries that part of the world out from under the moon.¡±


    ¡°The moon will be travelling fast at that part of its orbit,¡± pointed out Samantha, though. ¡°Nearly as fast as the Earth¡¯s rotation. At perigee itself, it will be travelling almost fast enough for it to appear to hover over that part of the Earth as the planet turns under it. The moon will stand still in the sky while the sun rises and sets behind it. That will be when the tides are highest. And there are other factors to consider. The effect of the winds, the topography of the sea floor, tidal bores...¡±


    ¡°Tidal bores could be huge!¡± said Leonard Green. ¡°There could well be a tidal bore coming up the English channel, hundreds of times the size of the Severn Bore, causing even more flooding to the south coast.¡±


    Several people tried to speak at once, and the Prime Minister raised his hands for silence. ¡°Just how high could the tides reach?¡± he asked. ¡°What''s the worst case scenario?¡±


    The two men glanced at each other. ¡°What is the tidal range at present?¡± asked Leonard Green. ¡°Half a metre? About that?¡±


    ¡°It varies all across the world,¡± replied Lewis Morgan. ¡°There¡¯s a place in Canada where the tidal range is over twenty metres.¡±


    ¡°That''s because of the geography of the region. There are places where there''re no tides at all. Sicily, other places around the Mediterranean...¡±


    ¡°I''m not worried about other parts of the world,¡± said the Prime Minister impatiently. ¡°What about here? The British Isles?¡±


    The two men glanced at each other again. ¡°High tides around twenty metres above sea level?¡± said Leonard Green.


    ¡°And low tides twenty metres below sea level,¡± agreed Lewis Morgan. ¡°We¡¯ll have to do some computer modelling. It might be more than that, less than that...¡±


    Consternation had erupted around the table, though, as half the committee members declared their disbelief. The other half simply stared, as if they were simply incapable of visualising what was being described. ¡°Coastal towns would be completely submerged!¡± said the Home Secretary. ¡°The sea would literally be above their rooftops!¡±


    ¡°How much of London is twenty metres or less above sea level?¡± asked the Prime Minister.


    The Home Secretary told Winston to bring up a map of the greater London area and to colour everything below twenty metres in blue. Samantha saw several of the faces around the table go white at what appeared on the screens. A strip of blue five kilometres wide ran through the heart of London as far west as Windsor, with a fat finger reaching north all the way to Waltham Cross. The Isle of Dogs, London''s financial district, was completely submerged, along with Stratford, Ilford, West Ham. The Houses of Parliament were coloured blue, but they¡¯d expected that since it was located right on the riverbank. All in all, nearly a quarter of the city would be under water at high tide, including most of the banks and the most important tourist sites. Heathrow airport and Hyde Park were outside the affected area, but only just. The twenty metre estimate would only have to be wrong by a few metres and they would be flooded as well. No-one needed to be told that the water would rise well above the new flood barrier that had just been built across the Thames at a cost of a hundred billion pounds.


    The Prime Minister zoomed the image in to show the Westminster area. ¡°Looks as though we might be able to protect Downing Street with sandbags,¡± he said. ¡°I want to stay here if I possibly can. It¡¯ll be good for morale. And other areas could also be protected. Areas on the edge of the blue zone would only have to face a couple of meters of water. We could put up flood barriers, perhaps, to defend them during the brief time the water will be that high.¡±


    ¡°May I remind you that the twenty metres figure is little more than a pure guess at present,¡± said Leonard Green. ¡°The water only has to be one centimetre higher than the flood barrier for it to be completely useless.¡±


    ¡°How long before we know for certain?¡±


    ¡°Thirteen days from now, when the moon makes its closest approach.¡±


    ¡°That doesn''t give us much time to relocate all government and financial work to higher ground,¡± said the Home Secretary. ¡°We''re going to be in chaos right from the moment we end this meeting and I start making phone calls.¡±


    They scrolled the image around the British Isles. Scotland, Wales and the island of Ireland would hardly be affected, it seemed, but vast areas of eastern England would be under water. ¡°That''s our best farming land!¡± protested the Minister for Rural Affairs, as if he thought the people around the table would be responsible. ¡°The breadbasket of Britain! All that land will be ruined! Tainted by salt! Nothing will grow on it!¡±


    ¡°We''ll have to evacuate millions to higher ground,¡± said the Home Secretary. ¡°Where will we put them? How will we feed them? The disruption¡¯s going to be terrible. There''ll be rioting, looting...¡±


    ¡°And every country in the world will be in exactly the same boat,¡± said one of the civil servants.


    ¡°All the ones with a coastline, anyway,¡± said another. ¡°I suddenly envy the Swiss.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said the Prime Minister to the three scientists. ¡°So, I don''t suppose there¡¯s any way we can stop this, is there? Some way we can just stop this from happening?¡±


    He looked desperately hopeful and resigned at the same time. He clearly already knew the answer to his question, but felt he¡¯d had to ask anyway. Samantha stared at the other astronomer and the science advisor, hoping that one of them would answer for her, but they just averted their eyes awkwardly Thanks guys, she thought ruefully.


    She took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m afraid there¡¯s no stopping it, Sir,¡± she said. ¡°This is going to happen. This is the new reality. Thirteen days from now the moon will make its first closest approach to the Earth. There will be earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, flooding of coastal areas, perhaps other consequences we haven''t thought of yet. Twenty four hours of calamity. It''s going to happen, and there¡¯s nothing we can do about it.¡±


    ¡°But then the moon will move back to its present distance, correct?¡±


    ¡°Briefly, yes, but then, twenty nine days later, it will come back, make another close approach. And twenty nine days after that and twenty nine days after that. Forever. That is our new reality, Sir, and all we can do is learn how to adapt to it.¡±


    The Prime Minister took a deep breath. ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°So let''s talk about what we¡¯re going to do. First, we have to inform the public, but without causing a panic and a mass stampede for higher ground. What do you suggest, Tom?¡±


    The Home Secretary looked thoughtful for a moment or two as he chose his words, and then he began to speak.

 Chapter Sixteen

    Susan Kendall pushed the heat resistant tile into the hole in the shuttle''s underside, between its neighbours. To her satisfaction it fitted perfectly, without even enough of a gap to require filling cement. The glue squished silently aside as it slipped in, some of it oozing up to form little ridges between the new tile, two of the other three she''d just fitted and an original tile that hadn''t been damaged by the cloud particle. She wiped it away with a rag, wondering as she did so whether the first astronauts, nearly a hundred years earlier, had ever imagined that there would one day be a use for a rag on a spacewalk.


    She took a pocket light from her belt, pressed it sideways against the hull and shone a beam of light across the newly positioned tiles. There was no shadow cast by one tile across its neighbour, indicating that it was standing higher and would therefore disrupt the smooth flow of superheated air across the shuttle''s belly during re-entry. She moved the pocket light, shining its beam across the repair in one direction after another. Still no shadow. Good. She smiled with satisfaction.


    ¡°I''m done here,¡± she said, tucking the pocket light back into her belt. ¡°Twelve hours from now, when the glue''s dry, we can go home, if we want to.¡±


    ¡°Any problems?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°None at all. The guys back on the ground couldn''t have done a better job.¡±


    ¡°We concur, Susan,¡± said Dimitri''s voice in her helmet. A ground control engineer watching the operation through her helmet camera. ¡°Great job. If you ever need to earn some extra money, my bathroom needs re-tiling.¡±


    ¡°Well, I could do with some new shoes.¡± She checked her equipment to make sure it was all safely stowed away, then pushed herself gently away from the shuttle to float freely in space. She took a small handheld control unit from its storage position on her left shoulder, held it in her fist and pressed the deploy button under her second finger. Her wings, a smaller, more compact version of the manned manoeuvring units used by previous generations of astronauts, deployed themselves, each of the long struts looking like the flight feathers of a bird as they arranged themselves across her back, some pointing forward at the tips, others pointing back, others outwards in all directions. Each strut had a small plasma rocket in its tip.


    She used the joystick under her thumb to turn in space, small jets of incandescent light coming from the manoeuvring jets pointing in the right direction. Then, when she was aimed at the airlock, she pressed the button under her index finger. The jets pointing behind her fired up and she moved forward. ¡°How you doing in there, Paul?¡±


    ¡°Just finishing up,¡± the deputy commander replied. Now the acting commander, with Lauren safely back on the ground along with the three Chinese crew members. ¡°Another few minutes and we can re-pressurise the Heineman module. Then the station will be fully repaired and operational again.¡±


    ¡°But with dangerously low levels of spare air and only one operational re-entry vehicle,¡± said Benny. ¡°We need resupply and replacement crew members. Will Lauren and the others be coming back up, or will we be getting someone else?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps they''ll send up a whole new crew and we¡¯ll be able to go home,¡± said Jayesh.


    ¡°I thought you liked it up here,¡± said Paul. ¡°You fought like crazy to get into the space program.¡±


    ¡°Things have changed,¡± the Indian replied. ¡°My family needs me now.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Paul thought of his own family. His wife lived in a small town in Lincolnshire, in a part of the country that was renowned for its flatness. His children and their families lived inland on higher ground, but not that much higher. They would all need to leave their homes before the first perigee tide washed them out. The children would take care of their mother, he knew. They wouldn''t be any safer if he was there with them, but he knew that Maggie would be a lot happier with her husband back on the ground. He felt a desperate urgency to return to her, and the Colibri shuttle tempted him with its newly repaired heat shield. He couldn''t return alone, though. Not with the Jinlong shuttle still without fuel and another refuelling mission looking unlikely. If he could persuade the others to go back with him, they could leave the space station empty until another crew was sent up to occupy it, if it ever was. The various governments of the world were likely to have other priorities for quite a long time into the future.


    He packed his equipment away and went to the airlock to help Susan back inside. She was just squeezing her way in through the outer door when he arrived and he watched through the window in the inner door as she closed it behind her and pushed the button to equalise the pressure. Hopefully, she wouldn''t have to make another spacewalk for the rest of her stay on Harmony. Every time someone went out, they took an airlock full of air with them and the space station no longer had very much air to spare.


    A moment later she opened the inner door and floated clumsily through into the Rotterdam module, her wings once again folded neatly against her back. Paul helped her to remove her helmet and she gave a great breath of relief as she shook her hair out. ¡°Damn, I hate spacewalks!¡± she said. ¡°It''s claustrophobic, and I have a fear of heights. Do you know what it¡¯s like to be claustrophobic and afraid of heights at the same time?¡±


    ¡°So why did you get an EVA license?¡± asked Paul as he helped her remove her wings. He hung them on a rack and plugged in a fuel hose, so they would be ready for the next time they were needed. Then he helped her separate her spacesuit into its two halves. An upper torso unit, covering the body and arms, and a lower torso unit that covered the waist and legs. He hung the upper unit next to the wings and plugged in the air hose. Then he helped Susan climb out of the lower torso unit.


    ¡°I thought it would help me get into space,¡± she said. ¡°Give me an edge over my competitors. I was desperate to get up here, the only place I could grow my crystals, and there was so much competition! Well, you know that. You had to beat the odds to get up here as well. And I thought I could take it. I mean, I¡¯ve never liked confined spaces, or heights. I always knew that being cooped up in a tiny little spacesuit, surrounded by all that immensity, would be difficult, but I thought I could handle it.¡±


    ¡°Well, you were right,¡± said Paul as he held tight onto the legs of the spacesuit. Susan then reached up to a handle on the ceiling and pulled her legs out. Paul hung the lower torso unit up on a rack along with its other half while Susan began to peel off the cooling jumpsuit; a thick garment with water pipes running through it. ¡°You did the job. You completed the mission.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t have much choice if I ever wanted to go home again.¡±


    ¡°If the shuttle was unrepairable, they''d have sent the standby shuttle up for us, or they''d have sent the mule to refuel the Jinlong.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but there were issues of personal pride as well.¡± She smiled as she stripped the thick material from her sweat sheened arms.


    ¡°I thought pride was a sin, according to the bible.¡±


    ¡°You love to tweak my tail about my Christian faith, don''t you?¡±


    ¡°Just playful banter. I don''t mean any disrespect.¡± She have him a doubtful look but chose not to challenge him on it.


    Back in the early days of space flight it had taken hours to put on and take off a space suit, but Susan was floating in her bra and sanitary garment less than half an hour later. They were soaked with sweat, so Paul averted his eyes while she removed them and towelled the sweat from her body, then put on some fresh underclothes. She then reached for her jumpsuit, and Paul held it for her while she shimmied into it with a sigh of relief. ¡°I sincerely hope that''s the last time I ever have to wear that God awful thing,¡± she said as she did up the buttons.


    ¡°It should be. We can use the robot to repair the solar panels if we need more power, but they''re still at seventy four percent capacity, more than I can see us needing. There''s nothing for us to do now except routine housekeeping work until they tell us to come home.¡±


    ¡°Well, I hope that''s soon. Out there, I kept wanting to look at the moon. It was very distracting! A constant reminder of what''s going to happen.¡± Her eyes drifted to the nearest small window, but it was looking in the wrong direction and there was nothing visible through it except stars.


    ¡°You said you come from Oklahoma. There are no fault lines around there, are there? No earthquakes.¡±


    ¡°No, hardly ever.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s pretty much as far from a coastline as it¡¯s possible to get. I don''t think your folks will have much to worry about. They''ll be able to watch all the floods and earthquakes, all the calamities and disasters, on the telly, safe in their homes while drinking cold beers and eating chips. Out of all of us, you''re the one with the least to worry about.¡±


    ¡°I''m not worried. I have faith that this is happening for a reason. There may be short term calamities, but in the long term this will benefit the human race. God would not have done it otherwise.¡±


    ¡°What kind of long term benefits?¡± asked Paul, intrigued.


    ¡°The human race has become too comfortable. There are no more wars to speak of. Not real wars, like in the old days. There are cures, or at least treatments, for pretty much all diseases and medical conditions. There are no more starving millions in the third world. Everyone, no matter how poor, can be sure of getting enough food to eat. If there''s a draught or some other kind of natural disaster the world rallies around and sees that the victims are cared for.¡±


    ¡°That''s a good thing, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°It means that people are forgetting about God. Belief in God worldwide has been dropping for nearly a century and is now at an all time low. We''re so obsessed with our material benefits that we¡¯re forgetting our spiritual well being.¡±


    ¡°But so long as everyone is safe, healthy and happy...¡±


    ¡°The world is forgetting that this life is only the prelude to our real existence, in the next life. We¡¯re like children in school, congratulating ourselves on having fashionable trainers and telling each other how well we¡¯re doing on the latest computer game while forgetting that the real reason we¡¯re in school is to prepare us for adult life. We''re not here, in this life, to be wealthy and comfortable. We''re supposed to be preparing ourselves for our real lives, in the next world.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°So God wants us to be starving and miserable because it¡¯s good for our souls?¡±


    ¡°God doesn''t want us to be starving and miserable. If we could be wealthy and comfortable and still draw close to God, that would please Him more than anything, but if it¡¯s a choice between what¡¯s good for our material selves and what''s good for our souls, it has to be our souls because our souls are what we really are.¡±


    Paul stared at her, trying to tell himself that she was ridiculing her own beliefs to poke fun at him, but there was an earnestness in her face as she did up the buttons of her jumpsuit that sent a chill up his spine. She''s shocked by what''s happening, he told himself. She''d had a scientific education. She knows better than most what''s about to happen to Earth and mankind, and she¡¯s desperately trying to think of a reason why God, her loving, compassionate God, would do such a thing.


    He tried to make himself believe it, but he couldn''t quite drive away the suspicion that she was glad this was happening. Mankind would soon be driven back into suffering and poverty, and those were conditions in which religion flourished. Within a couple of weeks, belief in God was likely to soar worldwide and the power and influence of the church would be restored to levels it hadn''t known since the middle ages. To Susan and people like her, the world was about to enter a new golden age.


    He tried to think of something to say that would make her realise how crazy this was, but nothing came to him and in the end he could only stare after her as she swam away towards the hatch into Node Three. He waited until she was out of sight and out of earshot before finally speaking, muttering to himself under his breath. ¡°Damn! Religion is scary!¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Benny and Jayesh were also removing their spacesuits. Modern spacesuits were much lighter and agile than they had once been. The two astronauts were able to move around in them almost as though they were dressed in normal clothing, but it was still hot inside them and, like Susan, their underpants were soaked with sweat, so they stripped right off and had body washes before dressing. They had long since stopped bothering with the modesty curtains, except when there was a woman around, so they just squeezed liquid soap onto their bodies and rubbed it off with towels. Then they washed their hair with rinseless shampoo.


    ¡°How you doing, you two?¡± said Paul''s voice from the speakers.


    ¡°We''re done,¡± replied Benny as he wiped the soap from his legs, his feet strapped to the floor to stop himself floating around in the bathroom space. ¡°We¡¯ve put fifty millibars of air in the module. If there''s no drop in pressure over the next twenty four hours we''ll re-pressurise fully.¡±


    ¡°What''s the plan then?¡± asked Jayesh. ¡°Are we returning to Earth?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know. I hope so. I wouldn''t be surprised if they left the station empty for a while. It¡¯s sad to think but, with what''s about to happen down on Earth, this might be the end of manned spaceflight for the foreseeable future.¡±


    ¡°You think they¡¯ll let the station re-enter and burn up?¡± said Benny in outrage. ¡°They could have told us before we patched her up.¡±


    ¡°You know what it costs every time they launch a shuttle. I very much doubt they¡¯ll have that kind of money to throw around once the moon''s made its first close pass. Looking after refugees is going to take every penny they''ve got, and twice as much besides...¡±


    Paul''s voice was abruptly cut off as another voice came from the speakers. George Martell, their flight control officer. ¡°Harmony, this is Canberra. You up there, guys?¡±


    ¡°Hi George,¡± said Benny, unstrapping his feet and reaching for some clean underwear. ¡°How you doing?¡±


    ¡°Fine, Benny. Just wanted to let you know that Lauren and the others all made it down safely. They landed in Ningxia and are being flown to Beijing where Lauren will catch a flight home as soon as the doctors have looked her over. The others will be staying in China.¡±


    ¡°Great news,¡± said Jayesh, also getting dressed. ¡°So what happens now? Are we coming home too?¡±


    ¡°That''s the main reason I¡¯m calling, Jay. We''ve had a request from the Chinese government. They want to know if you''d mind staying up there for a while.¡±


    ¡°What for?¡± asked Paul, joining the conversation from the command module. ¡°What''s going on?¡±


    ¡°Your guess is as good as mine, Paul. They''re being awfully cagey about it. All we know is they''ve asked that we prepare the station to assist in a possible long range manned mission.¡±


    Benny and Jayesh stared at each other. One of the main functions the space station had been designed to carry out, while it was still being designed and assembled, was to act as a staging post for long range missions to the moon and beyond. The spaceships were to have been launched in the form of modules that would have been assembled in orbit using the space station as a construction shack. So far, though, no such spaceship had ever been constructed. The American mission to Mars and the Chinese missions to the moon had both been in cheaper single piece spaceships, much like the Apollo missions before them, and the proposed European mission to a near earth asteroid kept being delayed as the various governments involved balked at the cost.


    ¡°Where on earth do they want to go?¡± asked Benny incredulously. ¡°The moon? Do they want to observe the moon''s convulsions close up?¡±


    ¡°We''ll need some proper engineers,¡± said Paul. ¡°Susan and I aren''t up to that kind of task.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know that anything''s happening yet,¡± said George. ¡°The impression I got is that the Chinese just want to keep their options open in case they decide to do something. They want there to be a functioning space station up there just in case they need it. Likely as not they''ll tell us the mission''s off in a few days and you''ll be free to come home. In the meantime, just keep everything in good shape up there.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll do that,¡± said Paul. ¡°How long do you think we¡¯re going to be up here? I''d really like to be with my family when it all hits the fan.¡±


    ¡°We''ll take care of your family, Paul. All your families. We¡¯ll make sure they¡¯re safe, you have my word on that.¡±


    Another voice came from the speaker. They recognised it as Philip Carver, the operations manager. The man in overall control of the space station, in space and on the ground. ¡°If necessary we¡¯ll have the army take them in,¡± he said. ¡°We''ll house them on an army base where they¡¯ll have food, protection. It''s really important to us that you guys are relaxed and stress free up there. We don''t want anyone making mistakes because they¡¯re worried for their families.¡±


    Benny and Jayesh stared at each other. ¡°You know what the Chinese are planning, don''t you?¡± said the Indian.


    ¡°No, I don''t, but the Chinese premiere spoke to the President of Europe, who then spoke to me in person and told me to make sure you were comfortable and happy up there. He told me we could count on the support of the military if that¡¯s what it takes. That''s all I know, I promise, but it comes right from the top.¡±


    ¡°Maybe things down there are going to be even worse than we thought,¡± said Benny, his eyes wide with shock. ¡°You don''t think... Could they be planning to create some kind of lifeboat in space? A place where the Chinese leadership can ride out the storm?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t ride out the storm,¡± said Paul. ¡°This isn''t some one time disaster that''ll blow over and the world can rebuild and recover. The moon isn''t going to make just one close pass and then everything''ll go back to normal. This is going to happen every twenty nine days! Forever! A lifeboat makes no sense.¡±


    ¡°Unless things are going to get really, really bad down there,¡± said Benny. ¡°So bad that even getting away from it for a few weeks or months seems worthwhile. What''s going on, Phil? What haven''t you told us?¡±


    ¡°I''ve told you all I know, and that¡¯s the truth.¡±


    ¡°Just how bad is it going to be down there?¡±


    ¡°Bad, but not end of the world had. The Chinese leadership will survive just fine without having to leave the planet. Whatever they¡¯re thinking, it¡¯s not that. As soon as I know more I''ll let you know, I promise. In the meantime, just keep things in good order up there. Your families will be looked after, as I said.¡±


    ¡°Will we be getting replacement crew members?¡± asked Susan, joining the conversation from wherever she was in the space station.


    ¡°Not anytime soon I¡¯m afraid. We''re having a problem with the standby shuttle. It could be some time before we get it sorted out. I''m afraid the four of you are on your own until then.¡±


    ¡°Copy that, Phil,¡± said Paul. ¡°Can you get an unmanned pod up to us? We could really do with some resupply.¡±


    ¡°I''ll see what I can do. Take care up there, guys.¡± The speakers fell silent as he cut the connection.


    ¡°You think he''s telling the truth?¡± said Benny to Jayesh once they were sure they weren¡¯t being overheard.


    ¡°I don''t know,¡± the Indian replied. ¡°Planning a long range space mission at a time like this... It''s crazy! It has to be something to do with the moon.¡±


    ¡°Maybe the moon''s going to break up. What the moon''s gravity will do to us is nothing compared to what the Earth¡¯s gravity will do to the moon. Maybe someone down there thinks the moon will break up, bombard the Earth with debris. Maybe the Earth will be rendered completely uninhabitable.¡±


    ¡°The moon''s coming nowhere near the Roche limit.¡±


    ¡°Maybe the Scatter Cloud did something to the moon. All that energy it dumped deep below the moon''s surface, it must be trying to get out, like a balloon filled almost to bursting point. Maybe someone did some calculations and found that the tidal stress at perigee will make the moon burst open and let all that energy out.¡±


    ¡°It''ll be nothing compared to the moon''s gravitational binding energy, surely.¡±


    ¡°It doesn''t have to be. All it would take was one geyser shooting lava high enough for the Earth¡¯s gravity to steal it away and make it fall on Earth instead of back on the moon. Imagine thousands of cubic kilometres of molten rock raining down on the Earth from a height of a hundred thousand kilometres.¡±


    ¡°The equi-gravitational point, even that close...¡±


    ¡°Maybe the magma will be shot with enough force to reach that point. All that energy escaping as the moon¡¯s stretched by the Earth¡¯s gravity like a prisoner on the rack. A dinosaur killer asteroid would be nothing in comparison. Maybe the chinese see no alternative but to leave the planet.¡±


    ¡°And go where? Just float around in space until they run out of food?¡±


    ¡°The Chinese have been working on closed ecologies, ready for their space colony. Maybe they''ve cracked it, figured out how to keep a closed ecology going for years. Maybe the lava fall will only happen once, the first time the moon makes perigee. Maybe after that the Earth will recover. Wracked by the moon''s gravity once every month but habitable nonetheless, and empty because everyone else will have died in the lava fall. The Chinese leadership will be able to colonise an empty planet.¡±


    ¡°You can''t seriously believe that!¡±


    ¡°What other explanation is there? Why do you think the Chinese want to engage in a deep space mission now, of all times?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know, but I can''t believe things will be as bad as you say. And even if it was, what would you want to do about it? Sabotage it? Stop the lifeboat being built?¡±


    ¡°No, of course not! If it¡¯s the end for the rest of us, I think it would be great if someone found a way to survive, even if it is the Chinese. No, good luck to them. But if it really is the end, for you, for me, for our families down on Earth, then I want to be with them when it happens. I have a wife, a son. I want to be with them when the end comes.¡±


    The Indian stared into the other man''s eyes and saw the thoughts behind them. ¡°You want to take the shuttle,¡± he said, his voice hushed with shock. ¡°Take the shuttle and go home.¡±


    ¡°Obviously I wouldn¡¯t go alone,¡± the Swede replied. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t leave the rest of you stranded up here. No, I want us all to go home.¡± He stared the Indian straight in the eye. ¡°What do you say? If we can convince the others, are you in?¡± Jayesh just stared at him. ¡°I know you have family back in India. If it really is the end, you''d want to be with them, wouldn''t you?¡±


    ¡°It''s not the end. You''re just working yourself into hysteria. It''ll just be some high tides, some extra earthquakes. The world will survive.¡±


    ¡°But what if we found out it¡¯ll be worse then that? What if we found out it really is the end?¡±


    ¡°And how would you find that out?¡±


    ¡°If we did! If we did find out it was the end, and if we could persuade the others to come with us. Would you be in? Are you with me?¡±


    Jayesh stared at him. The Swede¡¯s fear was infectious. He could feel it taking root inside him, growing. Could it be true? he wondered. Were they being lied to? Did the Chinese know something they weren''t telling anyone? They were such a secretive people, even in the second half of the twenty first century, even with all the international projects they were involved with. It was so easy to be suspicious, to question their motives. What if Benny was right? Was it possible?


    ¡°Are you with me?¡± The Swede insisted.


    ¡°If we find out something concrete,¡± Jayesh reluctantly conceded. ¡°I don¡¯t see how we will, how we possibly could, but if we somehow do...¡±


    ¡°Then you''d be with me,¡± Benny insisted. ¡°The four of us together, we''d take the shuttle and go home. Back to our families.¡±


    Jayesh hesitated once more, but then he nodded. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°I''ll be with you,¡±

 Chapter Seventeen

    A week after the Scatter Cloud hit the moon, it was still the only thing being talked about on the news channels. Samantha frowned as she sat in front of her television watching a man talking in front of a large map. It looked like a weather map, but instead of a weather forecast it had large areas of blue showing those areas that would be flooded at lunar perigee. She changed channel irritably to see a man standing in a street interviewing passers by and asking them what plans they were making to deal with the crisis. An elderly couple told him that they had no intention of leaving their house, even though it would soon be under two metres of water. ¡°We''ve lived there for fifty years,¡± the stooped, grey haired man declared, putting one arm around his equally frail wife. ¡°We can''t be going through all that upheaval at our time of life.¡±


    Another channel had a reporter standing in the middle of a wide expanse of moorland, empty except for the occasional clump of gorse and bracken. A subtitle at the bottom of the screen said that it was Dartmoor, the site of one of the new refugee cities the government was going to build. The reporter was talking to two people. One of them was a government spokesman who was saying that they couldn''t build on farmland because they would need every inch of it for food production when half of it had been ruined by salt water. The other man, meanwhile, turned out to be an environmentalist who was protesting the spoiling of a protected national park. Samantha cursed the man''s stupidity and changed channel again.


    The next channel had a science guy looking at infra red images of the moon. The eastern hemisphere was one almost continuous sea of lava now, she saw. There was a scattering of islands around its perimeter, the remains of lunar highlands, but they were gradually sinking as the rock below them melted, eating away at their foundations. The science guy was saying that, if the ocean continued to grow at the same rate, the last piece of solid ground would disappear within two or three weeks.


    Samantha changed channels quickly, not wanting to be reminded of the torment her daughter was going though. The girl was becoming very upset by the moon''s transformation. She had memorized the features on the moon the way other children memorized the lyrics of their favourite pop songs or the statistics of a football team, and now all those features were melting away. All her hours of patient, fascinated study would soon be for nothing. The little girl felt betrayed and traumatised. She had torn down all the moon posters that had once adorned her bedroom walls and thrown away every toy with a lunar motif. The day before, Samantha had caught her crying bitterly and had hugged her tightly for nearly an hour before the little girl finally went to sleep.


    Samantha knew how she felt. She had studied the moon all her life, made it her life¡¯s work. She had become the world''s foremost authority on the moon. Becoming the world''s foremost authority on anything was an amazing achievement, and the moon had been the centre of the entire science community''s attention as the Chinese had drawn up their plans for a permanent moon base. Now, though, lunar geography and geology had become dead subjects. Her career was dead. Her whole life¡¯s work was dead, and it was hitting her almost like a bereavement.


    Finally, she found a channel showing a quiz show and she put down the remote control with relief. She could sit down in her comfy armchair and forget what was happening for a while. Pretend that everything was normal until it was time to go pick up her daughter from school. She thought about going back to the university for a little while, but what would be the point? They would only be watching the moon''s torment, documenting it for posterity, and she really couldn''t face that right now.


    She watched the show for a while, trying to think of the answers before the contestants could and trying to keep track of how much money she would have won if she''d been on the show, but she was restless and found it hard to pay attention. She kept fidgeting in the chair, sitting this way, then shifting to sit that way, until eventually she stood with a sigh of exasperation. She couldn''t relax with everything that was happening at the moment, and she guessed that she was far from alone in that. What she needed, she decided, was to burn off some of her nervous energy, and so she decided to go to the shops.


    She would buy some food, she decided as she turned off the television and went around the house making sure everything was safely locked up. She had plenty of tinned and frozen food, enough to last them for several weeks, but she didn''t want to touch it so long as there was still fresh food in the shops. She put on her warm coat, made sure she had her shopping card in her purse, and left the house.


    There was a small, local supermarket just a few hundred metres down the road, and she turned left into Barnaby street to head towards it. Like everyone these days, she glanced up into the sky, even though she knew that the almost full moon was still below the horizon. The sky was on everyone¡¯s minds at the moment, and she was as helpless to resist its call as everyone else. The sky was covered with grey clouds, though. The moon would have been hidden from view even if it had been up there.


    Slushy snow covered the ground. It squished under her feet with every step. Footing was treacherous and she had to be careful not to slip. She decided to walk on the strip of grass that ran beside the road rather than the footpath itself. Tyre tracks in the road showed that very few cars had driven along it since the overnight snowfall, but as she walked one drove past her, stuffed full of people and its roof rack piled high with belongings. A family beating the rush inland, away from the shore. They must have family somewhere, willing to take them in, she decided.


    The road sloped downhill. She''d called up an elevation map of Bristol earlier that day, telling the tablet to mark in blue all those areas less than twenty metres above sea level. Other people must have done the same thing, because after the road dropped below the twenty metre level the number of houses with For Sale signs outside them rose dramatically. She wondered whether they really expected anyone to buy them. Property values in this part of town must have already dropped effectively to zero. She saw a man with a smug look on his face sweeping the snow from the front drive of a house just above the twenty metre level. His less fortunate neighbours further down the hill must already be hating him, she thought. She found herself hoping that the high tide rose higher than expected and flooded his house as well. A little uncharitable of her, she reflected, but she wasn¡¯t feeling very charitable right now. She was miserable and she wanted nothing more than to share it around. Of course, if the tide did rise higher than expected, that increased the risk to her own house. It wasn''t that much higher than the house of the smug man, after all.


    How long will it be before they have more accurate flood predictions? she wondered. They must have created some computer models by now. Maybe they had, and they hadn''t released the news because it was too alarming. Maybe the waters would rise higher than expected. Maybe much higher. Neil might know, she thought. Maybe she should have gone to the university after all. She would go tomorrow, she decided. They''d probably be doing little more than packing everything away, ready to relocate to higher ground, but seeing them would do her good. In the meantime she''d give Neil a phone call as soon as she got home. See if he had any news for her, good or bad.


    The shop was packed with people, but not with food. People were panic buying, that great British reaction to any event more serious than a heavy snowfall. Other countries thought it very amusing that the British treated any moderately serious weather event as the end of the world, so she¡¯d been expecting this. There''d be something, though. People wouldn''t still be crowding the shop if it was completely empty. It might only be packets of dried rice, but that was still a good meal and it would delay the moment when she had to start eating into her secret stash.


    She entered the shop and squeezed her way along the packed aisles. Things were even worse than she''d thought. Everything that could even remotely be counted as food had already gone. Even the biscuits and breakfast cereals had gone. People were wandering up and down the same aisles again and again, staring at the same shelves as if they thought food might have miraculously appeared there since the last time they''d looked. Someone was asking the man behind the counter when he''d be getting another delivery and everyone in the shop paused to hear the answer. Usually about ten, tomorrow, the man replied, looking scared.


    Most of the customers filed silently out, but to Samantha¡¯s surprise some of them remained, pulling phones from their pockets. She moved close enough to one of them to listen to what she was saying and heard her telling her husband that she was going to wait there overnight for the delivery. ¡°Can you bring me a sleeping bag, please, and a flask of hot soup,¡± she said. One of the other customers, also overhearing, stared at the woman in alarm and hurried out faster, risking a slip on the slushy pavement as she left. She was going to come back, Samantha realised, with a sleeping bag and a flask of hot soup of her own. By the time the delivery truck arrived the next morning, there would be a whole crowd of people waiting for it. Men and women who''d been camped there all night. The shop would barely be restocked before it was empty again. Fights might well break out. People were scared, and it would only get worse. At the moment there was still plenty of food in storage, but that wouldn¡¯t last. Soon there would be riots, violence, deaths, and she gave silent thanks that she''d been able to stock up in advance. The food she''d hoarded would, hopefully, carry her and Lily through the worst of it. By the time it ran out, the government would hopefully have gotten things sorted out and the country would be settling down again.


    She hurried out of the shop before someone recognised her and demanded an update on what was happening, as if she would have any more idea than anyone else. Her job, her expertise, had allowed her to know before everyone else, but by now everyone knew as much as she did. All the news channels and commentators had made sure of that. There was nothing more she''d be able to tell them.


    She decided to continue along the street, down towards the river. There was a church on the corner, and even though it wasn''t Sunday the sound of music and singing drifted out into the street. Church attendance had spiked sharply just in the couple of days since the news had hit, and the priests and pastors, the imams and the rabbis and all the others were taking advantage of it, holding emergency church services while delighting at the sudden resurgence of their power and influence in society. As if a big man in the sky would come and put everything back to normal, she thought contemptuously. It was the big man in the sky who''d caused all this in the first place!


    The town of Camby stood on the river Avon, which was a couple of hundred metres wide at this point, and there was a rather nice walk along the riverside which was usually packed with tourists during the summer months. In winter it was usually deserted, and so she was surprised to see quite a crowd of people roaming the riverside, wandering across the slush covered grass right up to the river''s edge where the ground dropped thirty centimetres down to the water. There was a morose atmosphere among them, and Samantha realised that they had come to say a sad goodbye to it. The river wasn''t tidal here, or at least it never had been. Soon, though, there would be salty sea water covering the grass to a depth of several metres. When it receded, there would be sand and seaweed where the crowds were standing now. As the grass and trees were killed over successive perigee tides it would eventually become just another bare mudflat stinking of salt and fish, the ground cracking open as it was dried by the sun.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The river would still be there after perigee, of course. As the moon temporarily receded to its original distance from the Earth the shoreline would return to its current position, at least until the moon made its next close approach. The high waters would leave a permanent mark on the town, though. Every building she could see would be left uninhabitable, would eventually be destroyed by waves crashing upon them. Sooner or later, maybe years from now, maybe sooner, the perigee tide would coincide with a major storm that would destroy every man made structure less than twenty metres above the current sea level. Piers and breakwaters were designed to withstand that kind of punishment, but the average building was not. Soon, instead of having to walk half a mile to find the beach, the smug man she''d seen earlier would find sand and seaweed right on his doorstep and nothing left between him and the waters edge, half a mile away.


    She continued along the river to where the footpath passed under the motorway where it crossed the river on a high bridge. The M5 was one of the busiest, most important roads in Britain and a fifty kilometre stretch of it was now destined to be flooded for several hours every four weeks, with only the bridge itself rising above the waves. Even when the waters fell again, it would have to be cleared of debris before it was safe to use again, assuming it survived the inundation. Would the authorities go to the bother when they¡¯d have to do it all over again just four weeks later? If they didn''t, there would be a lot of heavy traffic using smaller roads passing through small towns and villages, one of the many smaller side effects of the Scatter Cloud¡¯s passing that few people had probably considered yet. All these hundreds, maybe thousands, of smaller consequences might eventually have a bigger impact on the world than the small number of big consequences, she thought as she strolled on, under the bridge and the traffic she could hear thundering past above.


    She looked up at the huge concrete structure. Not one of the world¡¯s prettiest bridges, she''d always thought. It was bleak and functional, nothing but great blocks of concrete sitting on top of ugly grey pillars. It was big, though. Four lanes each way with a road surface thirty metres above sea level. Pausing under it, she looked up and experienced a shiver of vertigo as those grey, concrete pillars rose up and up above her. She imagined sea water lapping at those pillars, two thirds of the way up towards the dark underside of the road, and it brought home the magnitude of what was about to happen in a way that nothing had before. She suddenly found himself craving the comfort and safety of her own home. She could close the door behind her, make herself a nice cup of tea and pretend that it wasn''t happening, that it had just been a horrible nightmare from which she was now waking up.


    She cursed herself as a coward and made herself continue on, past the motorway and on towards the dockyard area. Once one of Britain''s most important docks, a certain amount of cargo did still pass through it, but the area had mostly been redeveloped over the past few decades to become a major tourist resort. Even now, in the middle of winter, there were cars parked outside the hotels and visitors strolled around the restaurants, bars and shops, some of them right on the waterside. There were windsurfers out on the water and not all the yachts were moored in the harbour. In the past there had been a street market every Sunday, but there would be no market this week. That was the day that the moon would come barrelling past the Earth, its gravity tearing at the oceans and the very crust of the planet itself. That was the day that everything she was looking at now would be swallowed by the sea to emerge, a few hours later, ruined beyond all further use.


    She looked at her watch. Just past noon. She was getting hungry and it was still three hours before Lily would need collecting from school. She decided to go get something to eat. It would be her own way of saying goodbye. She followed the river path towards the harbour, therefore, to where it joined the dock road running down to the waterside.


    As she got closer, she saw that there were more people here than she''d first thought. The restaurants were full, packed to bursting with customers and the sounds of conversation. Not happy conversation, though, or at least not entirely happy. More like the kind of conversation that takes place in a wake after a funeral. Outside, people wrapped up in warm coats were taking photographs of themselves and each other against the background of brightly coloured shops, yachts and advertising hoardings.


    The air was chilly but the sun was shining brightly enough to create warmth against south facing walls. There was a salt smell in the air from the choppy sea, and gulls walked confidently between the people standing on the paved areas and sitting in the painted metal benches. More gulls flew overhead on the lookout for scraps of food dropped on the ground. Everything was peaceful, tranquil. Everything had a sense of normality that Samantha suddenly found achingly poignant, as if she was looking at old photos in an album showing a way of life that had already vanished.


    She looked briefly at the shops, thinking she might be able to buy some food here, but most of them were gift shops for the tourists and those that did sell food were just as empty as the corner shop near her home. The only exceptions were stalls selling burgers and hot dogs cooked and eaten on the spot, and even they were selling for nearly three times the normal price. She bought two burgers anyway, thinking to make it her main meal of the day, so that she would only have to cook a proper meal for Lily that evening. A small snack would be enough for herself. She asked for double onions on the slabs of meat (might as well get my moneysworth, she thought) and squeezed generous dollops of brown sauce under the top buns. Then she wrapped one of them in a paper towel and tucked it in a coat pocket while she ate the other.


    As she ate, she passed a young man peering intently at the screen of his phone and she smiled to herself in amusement. The man had, presumably, come here to enjoy the docks one last time, so he could remember them as they were when they were gone, and there he was with his nose in his phone oblivious to the rest of the world. What was he looking at, she wondered, that couldn¡¯t wait until he was back home? She moved on, putting him out of her mind...


    ¡°Betty!¡± he suddenly cried out, though. ¡°Betty! Come look at this!¡±


    Nearby, two young women and another young man looked round from where they''d been gazing out over the water. ¡°What is it, Brett?¡± one of the woman asked.


    ¡°It''s the Chinese,¡± Brett replied in a loud voice, loud enough for everyone in the area to hear. ¡°They say they''ve got a plan to stop the moon.¡±


    Betty hurried over to see what he was looking at on his phone while Samantha stared in puzzlement. Stop the moon? What did that mean? Despite herself, curiosity drove Samantha over to look over the other woman''s shoulder while others also crowded around, some pulling out their own phones.


    Brett had one of the news channels on his phone. On it, a Chinese looking spokesman was giving a statement to camera and the young man turned up the volume so everyone could hear what he was saying. ¡°...which will ensure that our planet does not feel the full force of the moon''s gravity as it passes us by. We regret that there will still be disruption. Even the brilliance of our scientists cannot entirely prevent it, but the wonderful device that they have created in response to this time of crisis will ensure that it is far less than would otherwise have been the case. Seismic incidents will be greatly reduced, and the tidal bulge will be no higher than five metres, on average, although local geography will cause this to vary from one place to another...¡±


    ¡°What''s he talking about?¡± demanded Samantha. He had to grab the man¡¯s shoulder and pull him around to face her before she could drag his attention away from his phone.


    ¡°I missed the start of it,¡± he replied. ¡°They say they''re going to launch a space probe that''ll stop us feeling the full force of the moon''s gravity.¡±


    Samantha felt the momentary surge of hope ebbing away. ¡°That''s impossible,¡± she said. ¡°It must be a hoax.¡±


    ¡°This is the BBC,¡± he replied. ¡°If it''s a hoax, it''s convinced them!¡±


    ¡°They''re just reporting what the Chinese are telling them,¡± said another man who''d been watching the same broadcast on his own phone. ¡°Perhaps it''s the Chinese who''ve been hoaxed.¡±


    ¡°Look!¡± said Brett, holding his phone up. ¡°It''s James Surrey!¡±


    Samantha leaned closer to look, and saw that the Chinese spokesman had been replaced by one of the BBC''s most popular newsman. ¡°That was an official statement read on behalf of the Chinese Government,¡± he said. ¡°The Chinese have offered no information regarding the nature of their new invention, but...¡± There was a pause while he looked around at people off camera around him. ¡°But many of my colleagues are scientifically well informed and the prevailing opinion here in the studio is that it has to be... That they cannot see how such a thing could be done. I expect we''ll be... Yes. We''ll be getting some expert opinion on the subject. The BBC is currently trying to reach some scientists and experts to come on the show and tell us what they think. We''ll bring you the very latest as we get it. Er, I understand we can now... Yes. Another spokesman for the Chinese government is about to speak.¡±


    James Surrey vanished from the screen, to be replaced by another Chinese looking man. ¡°Jiang Deyao, President of the People''s Republic of China, has confirmed the authenticity of the statement just made by Hu Shiying. The brilliant scientists of the People''s Republic of China have indeed made a very great breakthrough in science that will allow the...¡±


    Samantha broke away and hurried over to a relatively empty part of the dock, then pulled her own phone from her pocket. She hurriedly called Neil Arndale''s number and paced up and down impatiently while she waited for him to answer. ¡°Sam?¡° he said at last. ¡°How you doing...?¡±


    ¡°Neil!¡± she almost shouted. ¡°Is it true?¡±


    ¡±Is what true?¡±


    ¡°The Chinese! What they''re saying!¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Samantha cursed under her breath. ¡°Find a television,¡± she said. ¡°The Chinese just issued a statement. They say they can protect the Earth from the moon''s gravity.¡±


    ¡°What? That''s impossible!¡±


    ¡°Turn on the bloody telly!¡±


    There was a pause and the sound of shuffling from the other end. She heard some muffled conversation between Neil and another man and then some more voices whose tone and quality told her that they were coming from a television. ¡°It''s the BBC,¡± she said, not knowing if he still had the phone close enough to his ear to hear.


    The voices from the television grew louder as Neil turned up the volume. The Chinese spokesman was still reading his statement telling everyone how brilliant their scientists were and that the extraordinary claims they were making were true, but then he was cut off. ¡°Some BBC guy''s just come on,¡± she heard Neil say.


    ¡°So, to recap,¡± said the BBC guy, and Samantha recognised the voice of James Surrey again. ¡°The Chinese government has just issued the extraordinary claim that they are able to protect this planet from most of the moon¡¯s gravity. They claim that they will launch a probe within the next day or two that will rendezvous with the moon just before it¡¯s closest approach to Earth and that this probe will somehow shield the Earth from the moon''s gravity. Now I don¡¯t have to tell you just how extraordinary this claim is. Everyone I''ve spoken to in the studio is extremely sceptical, to say the least. I''ve just been informed that Leonard Green, the Government¡¯s Chief Scientific Advisor, has been contacted and is even now on his way to this studio. He should be here within an hour or two, and then we¡¯ll hear what his take on all this is...¡±


    ¡°Sam? You there?¡± said Neil.


    ¡°Still here. So, what do you think?¡±


    ¡°Well, it''s crazy! It can¡¯t be done! It''s... It''s pure science fiction! It has to be a hoax! The Chinese government will probably issue a statement soon saying that someone''s been spoofing them. Wait a minute...¡± There was a short pause. ¡°The guy on the telly¡¯s saying that the Chinese government has issued a statement confirming the claim. They''re showing Jiang Deyao himself standing at a podium. He¡¯s speaking in Chinese with subtitles. I suppose the guy doing the subtitles might be in on the hoax...¡±


    ¡°Use the translation app on your phone,¡± said Samantha. ¡°Find out what he¡¯s really saying.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± There was another pause. ¡°The translation is the same as the subtitles,¡± he said. ¡°He¡¯s really saying it! Maybe he really believes it. Maybe it¡¯s some kind of ploy by his enemies to make him look ridiculous on television. Destroy his credibility so he can be deposed. Something like that.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Samantha. ¡°Guess we''ll know in a day or two. Look, I''ll pop in tomorrow, Okay? Give you a hand over there. I''ve been selfish, leaving it all to you.¡±


    ¡°Not at all, there''s virtually no work as such going on over here. Watching the moon melting, gathering as much data as we can. You can watch the live feed from your own home as easily as you can here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I''ve been doing it. I just want to help. Guess I just want the company really. See you tomorrow then.¡±


    ¡°Look forward to it.¡± There was a click as he cut the connection, and Samantha began the long walk home.

 Chapter Eighteen

    ¡°They''re going to use one of the alien mass dampeners,¡± said Ben.


    The others looked up as he entered the primary lab. Everything in the room was gleaming white or shining chrome, lit by the sun shining in through the long south wall that consisted almost entirely of windows. The air hummed with scientific machinery and a pair of junior researchers standing beside the mass spectrometer were talking quietly as they studied the results of their latest test. They looked up at Ben''s startling statement and came over to join the senior researchers, standing or sitting together on the other side of the room.


    Eddie put down the tablet on which he''d been reading Frank''s research notes and rose from the room''s only padded armchair to join the others. Ben and Karen had spent most of the day making phone calls and attending teleconference meetings with civil servants and government ministers, trying to convince them that they might, just might, be able to push the moon back into its original orbit. The statements issued by the Chinese, just under an hour before, had stunned them just as much as the rest of the world.


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± said Frank. ¡°They''re going to put it in orbit around the moon and supply it with enough power that its area of effect encompasses the entire moon?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± replied Ben, taking a seat beside the quantum microscope. ¡°They''re going to launch it from Wenchang on a Long March 22 along with two astronauts. It''ll be assembled on the space station before being sent off towards the moon.¡±


    ¡°The 22?¡± said James. ¡°The super heavy launcher? The one they were going to use for the next mars mission?¡±


    ¡°Yeah," said Frank. "Lucky they had one on the launch pad, ready to go. It''ll need that kind of thrust to reach the moon, the speed it¡¯ll be going by then. Assuming they want to reach it before its first perigee. Velocity difference is what counts in space, not distance.¡± The others nodded.


    ¡°How are they powering it?¡±


    ¡°Solar panels. Enough to provide a hundred kilowatts. They''re using rooftop solar panels, the kind you put on your roof to power your home.¡±


    ¡°Heavy,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Inefficient.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it would take months to build some proper space solar panels. They''re doing the best they can with what they''ve got.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re taking the credit for inventing it!¡± said Frank. ¡°I made the breakthrough! Me!¡±


    ¡°They may be doing it to protect us,¡± said Jessica. ¡°To stop people from finding out about us, about this place. We always knew we¡¯d never be able to take the credit for what we''re doing here.¡± Frank nodded but didn¡¯t look placated.


    ¡°They said they''ll only be able to reduce the effect of the moon''s gravity,¡± said Stuart. ¡°Not eliminate it entirely. Does that mean they''ll only be using it intermittently? Repeatedly turning it on and off again?¡±


    Ben nodded. ¡°As Alice pointed out, if you took away the moon''s mass for more than a few minutes, its internal pressure would blow it apart. They''re planning to turn it on and off every five minutes or so, with the option to adjust the time intervals as they observe what kind of convulsions the moon undergoes.¡±


    ¡°We have no idea whether the mass dampener can take the kind of power it would need!¡± protested Frank.


    ¡°Guess we''re going to find out.¡±


    ¡°They could burn out one of the only two original devices in existence! Especially if they¡¯re going to keep turning it off and on again. They''ll be subjecting it to an intolerable insult every five minutes, presumably for ever. I assume they¡¯re planning on leaving it there permanently?¡±


    ¡°That is my understanding,¡± said Ben. ¡°They''ll probably turn it off as it recedes from the Earth again, keep it until the next close approach. Maybe that''ll prolong its life.¡±


    ¡°If it doesn''t, you can''t just pop down to the hardware store and buy another,¡± protested James. ¡°My idea is still better. Push the moon back to its original orbit. That way, the dampener only has to work for a few hours. If it burns out after that, it doesn¡¯t matter. The way the Chinese are doing it, it has to work forever.¡±


    ¡°We''ve still got the exhaust problem, remember,¡± pointed out Alice. ¡°The mass of the rocket exhaust would also be dampened, and by the same amount. It wouldn¡¯t be able to push anything.¡± Eddie looked up for a moment, as if he was about to say something, but then he changed his mind and looked away.


    ¡°Could it actually work?¡± asked one of the junior researchers, his eyes wide with hope.


    ¡°We know virtually nothing about this technology,¡± said Karen. ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll burn out the moment they turn it on, maybe it¡¯ll last for a million years. We won''t know until they actually do it.¡±


    ¡°It''s crazy and irresponsible!¡± said James. ¡°If they misjudge it, leave the device turned on too long, an eruption could throw thousands of cubic kilometres of molten rock out into space. A few orbits from now, enough of it could hit the Earth to destroy everything.¡±


    ¡°Who will be in charge of it?¡± asked Alice. ¡°Who''ll be throwing the switch?¡±


    ¡°Some senior Chinese government official, I expect,¡± said Ben. ¡°Acting on sound scientific advice, I would hope.¡±


    ¡°The Chinese would be able to hold the world to ransom. They could turn the device off when the earthquakes and high tides hurt their enemies more than them.¡±


    ¡°I think geography is against that happening,¡± said Karen, though. ¡°The people they hate the most are either their neighbours, like the Japanese, the Russians, or directly on the other side of the world from them, by which I mean the USA. They can¡¯t hurt them without hurting themselves.¡±


    ¡°They might think they can ride out the storm better than their enemies. China is a huge country, with vast areas a long way from the coast and any earthquake zones.¡±


    ¡°So are the USA and Russia. Forget it, a tide weapon is pretty much impossible. They''d be cutting their own throats.¡±


    ¡°Even so, the other governments of the world are likely to insist that the device be placed under international control. There could be conflict over it.¡±


    ¡°Nothing we can do about that,¡± said Karen. ¡°Let the politicians worry about it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, because they never screw up.¡±


    ¡°I have another concern,¡± said James, turning his wheelchair to face Ben. ¡°The device will be controlled by radio from China, right? What if some snot nosed sixteen year old hacks it from the computer in his bedroom and leaves the device turned on permanently? The moon blows up, and the next orbit around a large proportion of it hits the Earth.¡±


    ¡°I doubt the device itself would survive the destruction of the moon,¡± said Frank. ¡°At the very least, the solar panels would be hit by debris and the device would lose power. All the pieces of the moon would get their mass back and gravity will pull it all back together again.¡±


    ¡°Not all of It,¡± said James. ¡°A lot of it would be slingshotted away by larger fragments and remain in independent orbits around the Earth. Some of it would be bound to hit us. The safest thing to do might actually be to leave the moon alone. To just adapt to life with the moon in its new orbit.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean you''re no longer in favour of pushing the moon back into its old orbit?¡±


    ¡°That way, with our plan, the device would only be turned on for a few hours, at most. Far less time for some hacker to break into the system. And it would be four hundred thousand kilometres away. Also, we could safeguard the system by connecting it to a timer that cannot be overridden. A timer that turns the device off permanently after six hours. Even if the moon does blow up in that time, all the pieces will still be close enough together that none of it will be able to escape its collective gravity.¡±


    ¡°The downside is that we have to wait for the moon to return to its original distance before we push it,¡± pointed out Ben. ¡°We can''t avoid letting it make at least one close pass by the Earth. The damage caused by even one perigee tide would be incalculable. The Chinese plan, if it works, would save the Earth from most of that.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps a combined plan,¡± said Eddie, speaking for the first time. ¡°Use the Chinese plan for the close approach, then push the moon when it returns to its original position.¡±


    ¡°The rocket exhaust would still be massless...¡± began Alice.


    Eddie nodded furiously at her to tell her that he hadn''t forgotten. He went back to where he''d left his tablet and turned it back on, collapsing back into the padded chair.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°They want to launch in two days time,¡± said Ben. ¡°Then they''ll have just twenty four hours to assemble it before it has to be sent off to the moon. If they miss their window, they''ll have to wait for the next orbit.¡±


    ¡°Gods, they¡¯ll pull out all the stops to meet the deadline!¡± said Frank. ¡°They''ve pinned all their national pride on it. Failure now would be a colossal embarrassment. People will, literally, pay for it with their lives.¡±


    ¡°And when you''re in that kind of a rush, you make mistakes,¡± agreed Stuart. ¡°Is there any way we can help them? We know more about mass dampeners than anyone.¡±


    ¡°I offered them our help,¡± said Ben. ¡°They said they¡¯d ask for it if they needed it. That''s code for keep your noses out of our business.¡±


    ¡°They want all the glory for themselves,¡± said Stuart. ¡°If it actually works, they''ll be able to brag about it for centuries. They''ll never let the rest of the world forget it.¡±


    ¡°Let them,¡± said Ben. ¡°I, for one, will be wishing them luck. I know the rest of you will be as well.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± said Stuart. ¡°I just can''t stop thinking of all the things that can go wrong, though. God, this is one hell of a gamble they¡¯re taking!¡±


    The others nodded their unhappy agreement, and one by one they drifted back to their work.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°Get out your best China, Paul,¡± said George Jefferson from the monitor screen. ¡°You''re getting visitors.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Paul, floating in the command module. ¡°We saw. It¡¯s really happening, then?¡±


    ¡°So it seems. They''re sending a ship up, anyway, with a couple of guys and a bunch of equipment. They''re expecting to be with you forty two hours from now.¡±


    Paul glanced up at the clock. ¡°Anyone we know?¡±


    ¡°The name of Yu Han was mentioned. She''s their best space engineer. Did a lot of work on their own space station, back in the day.¡±


    Paul nodded. Space stations were expensive, and having one all to themselves had turned out to be a luxury the Chinese couldn''t afford. Their national pride was saved by the fact that no-one else could afford one all to themselves either. That was why Harmony had been built by most of the world''s richest countries together, sharing the expense.


    The Chinese space station was still out there, floating empty. Every so often the Chinese talked about putting a crew back aboard it, but the expense of getting it operational again had always been prohibitive, and getting more so all the time as it continued to take damage from space debris. Everyone expected then to de-orbit it eventually. Burn it up in the atmosphere before it broke up and became a hazard to everything else in orbit.


    ¡°I met her once,¡± said Paul. ¡°In Madrid, at a publicity thing. They were trying to get some of the private space companies to help them get to Mars. Nice girl. Charming, good with the press. Knows her stuff too. Who''s coming with her?¡±


    ¡°Some guy called Koshing Goushi. Know him?¡±


    ¡°Nope. I assume he''s the pilot?¡±


    ¡°No, he''s another engineer. They''re not bringing a pilot, they don''t need one. Get this. They''re not coming up in a shuttle. They''re coming up in a capsule, like in the old days.¡±


    ¡°You are shitting me!¡±


    George chuckled. ¡°I''m really not. They''re coming up in an old Shenzou capsule, perched on top of a Long March 22. They won''t be going home on it, they¡¯ll be staying up there with you until you all come home together. They''ll just jettison the capsule after, let it burn up.¡±


    ¡°They just happened to have a capsule standing by, ready?¡± Susan appeared in the hatch. Paul beckoned for her to join him.


    The face on the monitor screen chuckled again. ¡°You won''t believe this, Paul. It''s an old capsule. A used one, I mean. It''s the capsule from the aerospace museum in Beijing. Used for a mission to their space station in 2035.¡±


    ¡°But they¡¯re not reusable!¡±


    ¡°All its got to do is be airtight. It won''t have to bring anyone back to earth. There''s no need to replace the heat shield, the parachute, the soft landing rockets, anything. They¡¯re dusting it off, doing a few repairs...¡±


    ¡°A few repairs!¡± Paul realised that George was still speaking. Even after all these months, he still hadn¡¯t gotten used to the speed of light delay. ¡°A few repairs?¡± he repeated. ¡°Is it still spaceworthy?¡±


    ¡°The Chinese seem to think it is. Yu and Koshing are willing to take the risk, apparently.¡±


    ¡°Rather them than me. They say they¡¯re going to reduce the mass of the moon! Are they insane, or is it me?¡±


    ¡°The Chinese are dead serious. They''ve announced a press conference in which they¡¯ll demonstrate the device.¡±


    ¡°But it can''t work! It''s impossible!¡± He glanced across at Susan, who was listening to the exchange in silence. ¡°What do you think?¡± he asked her.


    ¡°If it¡¯s God¡¯s will, it¡¯ll work,¡± she said.


    Paul nodded. He really hadn¡¯t needed to ask. ¡°Well, we''ll get the guest quarters swept out,¡± he said. ¡°Tell cook it¡¯ll be six for dinner day after tomorrow.¡±


    George smiled back at him. ¡°I''ll let them know it¡¯s a formal affair. I''ll keep you informed of any developments.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Take care down there.¡± Paul reached out and cut the connection. ¡°So,¡± he said. ¡°Guests.¡±


    ¡°Good ¡° said Susan. ¡°Did I hear you saying they¡¯re both engineers?¡±


    ¡°Qualified space engineers. Fully qualified to do any spacewalking that needs to be done.¡±


    She smiled with relief. ¡°Good! I''ll be very happy to leave it all to them.¡± She pushed herself over to the window and peered through it. The moon hung there, still almost full. An almost featureless dull grey disc. Its eastern face was slightly mottled with the tops of convection cells, the dark lines separating them forming an almost regular hexagonal grid. The very slightest hint of movement could be seen. Susan had seen a time lapse movie of the moon and it had looked like a pan of boiling water flickering with lightning bolts. It had looked angry, she remembered thinking. It had looked fucking pissed!


    ¡°When it makes its closest approach,¡± she said, ¡°will we be in danger? The first Scatter Cloud almost made us fall out of the sky. What will the moon''s gravity do to us?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± replied Paul. ¡°No need to worry about that, at least. We''re too low, the Earth has too tight a grip on us. The first Scatter Cloud went right past us, really close. The moon will be much further away.¡±


    ¡°Not far enough away for my liking. I was talking to Benny earlier. He wants us to take the shuttle and go home. All of us.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. He spoke to me too. We can''t go now, of course. Not with the Chinese on the way. They''ll arrive up here and have no way to get back home.¡±


    ¡°We could go now, before they lift off. The Chinese won''t come if there¡¯s no way home.¡±


    Paul turned to look at her. ¡°They might. They really might. They might be prepared to wait until they send the mule to refuel the Jinlong. And if that can''t be done, they might come anyway. They might be prepared to make that sacrifice if they think they can actually do what they say they can do.¡±


    ¡°But they can''t! It''s impossible! It''s complete fantasy!¡±


    ¡°What if it¡¯s not? What if they really can do it?¡±


    ¡°But you can''t! You can''t just take away an object¡¯s mass! And even if you can, if you can somehow do something in a lab to make a small object massless, we''re talking about the whole fucking moon!¡±


    ¡°The Chinese premiere was prepared to stake his personal reputation on it. You know how important reputation is in China. If your reputation is damaged, it can be the end of your career, and Jiang Deyao is leaving himself wide open to the biggest humiliation in history. If it turns out he''s been fooled by some clever opponent he¡¯ll probably kill himself. He knows what the stakes are, and he did it anyway. Went out on a limb in front of the whole world. He wouldn''t have done that unless he was pretty bloody sure of what he was doing.¡±


    Susan stared at him. ¡°But they''re talking about making the whole moon massless! What part of that seems even the smallest bit plausible to you?¡±


    ¡°It does seem incredible,¡± Paul agreed. ¡°But if there''s even the smallest chance they can do It...¡±


    ¡°But there isn''t! You just can''t do something like that!¡±


    ¡°Then they¡¯ll fail spectacularly. The Chinese will be humiliated, Jiang Deyao will kill himself in some public way and we¡¯ll go home in the shuttle. All six of us.¡±


    ¡°Promise?¡± said Susan, kicking her way through the air towards him. She grabbed his arms and brought her face close to his, looking him straight in the eyes. ¡°You promise? If the Chinese fail, we take the Colibri and go home right after, whether Philip Carver agrees or not.¡±


    ¡°I promise,¡± said Paul. ¡°If the Chinese fail, we take the shuttle and go home. Not a word to anyone on the ground, though. If they find out we''re thinking of abandoning ship they might upload a software patch to take the shuttle out of our control. We keep it to ourselves. Okay?¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡± She gave him a light kiss on the mouth. ¡°I''ll tell the others. Tell them what we''ve agreed and that we have to keep it to ourselves for now.¡±


    Paul nodded, and she kicked herself off towards the hatch, leaving Paul alone in the command module.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Three hundred and sixty thousand kilometres away, the moon crept through space at just half its usual speed relative to the Earth. A thick atmosphere of carbon dioxide and sulphurous gases, choked with volcanic dust, now covered the small world. On earth, the planet¡¯s twenty four hour rotation meant that the weather was dominated by spiralling cyclonic systems, but the moon rotated on its axis twenty six times more slowly. The movement of its atmosphere was dominated by the rising of hot air on its eastern side, heated by the growing ocean of lava beneath it, and the sinking of cold air on its western side.


    Hot air passed from east to west high above the ground, cooled, sank and flowed back eastward close to the ground at hurricane speeds, picking up dust and carrying it back to the magma ocean so fast that features that had stood untouched for hundreds of millions of years were being sandblasted to destruction. The descent stages of the Apollo and Qianfeng landers had already been destroyed, along with all the equipment the astronauts had left on the surface. In places, where the wind was funnelled by mountains and crater walls, the wind was strong enough to roll even quite large boulders along the lunar surface. Overhead, as dust particles were rubbed together generating static electricity, the air was repeatedly split by titanic flashes of lightning, many times more powerful than anything ever seen on Earth. Thunderous crashes of thunder followed. Shockwaves powerful enough to dislodge loose rubble and bring it tumbling down mountainsides in vast landslides that added further to the dust held in the atmosphere.


    The magma ocean bubbled and boiled. The thick atmosphere above it acted as a blanket, holding the heat in, leaving it with nowhere to go but down and sideways, warming up and melting the still solid moonrock surrounding it. The hot rocks below the ocean were the first to melt, so that the ocean grew steadily deeper. Soon it would merge with the moon''s tiny molten core. The sideways growth was slower, but no less relentless. Magma pushed its way through the tiniest faults and fissures, widening them, swallowing up the occasional lakes of molten rock kept hot by pockets of radioactive elements.


    A hundred miles below the surface, a layer of molten rock spread ever wider, increasing in depth as it melted rocks above and below until huge slabs of crust miles across broke off and sank, disappearing below the surface. It was a slow process, because magma is dense and viscous, only a little lighter than the solid rock above. Magma welled up through the newly made cracks, occasionally jetting up in huge geysers, and then the molten rock flowed slowly across the surface, converging upon itself in all directions until the last island of solid ground was swallowed up.


    As the moon crept through space, though, it was edging closer to the Earth. It was already closer than its original orbit had ever brought it, although it would have taken sensitive measuring equipment to see any increase in its size as seen from Earth. As it crept closer, though, it began to pick up speed, slowly but relentlessly. Dropping ever faster towards the delicately fragile world that waited below...

 Chapter Nineteen

    Margaret Lewis bustled busily around the house, dusting and polishing.


    She''d already done the kitchen and the bathroom, leaving every surface spotless and gleaming. Now she was doing the living room. Wiping the dust from the framed photographs of the family and from the shelves and cupboards that lined the walls. Plumping the cushions on the chairs and sofa and wiping fingerprints from the mirror and the television screen.


    The radio was playing in the background, something from the last century, but she was barely listening to it. In her mind, she was replaying memories of her life here. The happy times, such as when they''d first moved in with two young children who could no longer share a bedroom. The frightening times, such as when one of the children had come down with a mystery illness, or Paul was waiting to hear whether he was going to be made unemployed with debts that they couldn¡¯t possibly repay on a job seeker¡¯s allowance. In her mind, the walls echoed with laughter and tears, emotions that had soaked in over the past twenty years, making the house almost an extension of her soul. She and Paul had talked about selling up and buying something smaller now that the children had left home, but in their hearts they had both known that they were going to grow old in this house together. It had become so much a part of them that they hadn''t been able to imagine living anywhere else.


    She would vacuum the carpet next and then, if she had time, she would do the bedrooms and the spare room. She wanted the whole house to be spotless. She would be leaving soon. Leaving forever in all likelihood, and even though she knew what would happen to the house when the floodwaters came, she wanted her last memory of it to be like this. Spotless and immaculate. The house that she and Paul had made into a home and in which they had raised two fine children.


    The phone rang. Space Oddity by David Bowie. Chosen by their son Richard as a joke when Paul had been chosen to go up to the Space Station. ¡°Answer phone,¡± she said, straightening up and leaving the duster lying across the arm of the sofa.


    ¡°Hi, Mum,¡± said Hazel, her daughter, her voice issuing from the speakers around the living room. The same speakers used by the television and the music system. The radio continued to play, but at a lower volume. ¡°Just wanted to let you know that the car''s come. You okay?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Margaret replied, wiping the tears from her eyes and trying to keep her voice under control. ¡°I''m just doing a bit of cleaning and polishing while I wait. Just something to keep my mind occupied. How are you?¡±


    ¡°We''re okay,¡± Hazel replied. She did indeed sound okay, Margaret thought, a little bitterly. She and Len had only moved into their house a few months ago. She didn''t have the same emotional investment in it that Margaret did in hers. Her house was just bricks and mortar. It hadn''t become a home yet. They hadn''t even had time to decorate. As for her childhood home, she''d severed her emotional bonds with the place when she''d moved out. Her happy memories of the place were just that, memories. She¡¯d already moved on from it.


    ¡°Len¡¯s loading everything in, all the stuff we''re taking with us,¡± she continued. ¡°It''s not much. They said two suitcases. One for clothes, the other for valuables and memorabilia. We haven¡¯t really got much, though. To be honest, we''re having trouble filling two suitcases.¡±


    Margaret made a sound of agreement while looking around the house. Everything she could see held a memory. The expensive china on display in a wall cabinet, for instance. She''d inherited it from her mother, who¡¯d been taken from them early by a brain virus just a year after her husband, Margaret¡¯s father, a Commander in the navy and a member of the peacekeeping force, had been killed by an IED in South Africa. Then there was the chest of drawers they''d brought with them from their first home. Scratched and dented, but which they¡¯d never dreamt of replacing. And the clay dinosaur that Richard had made in school at the age of seven. It had pride of place on the shelf over the fireplace despite having been broken and glued together after Hazel had hit it with a ball that had bounced in an unexpected direction. So many things. So many memories.


    ¡°Are you sure you''re all right?¡± asked Hazel, concern in her voice.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she made herself say. ¡°When things have settled down a bit we''ll find a new place for ourselves. Close together, so we can visit. Cornwall, perhaps. You used to love our holidays in Cornwall.¡±


    ¡°That would be nice. Look, we''ve got to go, the driver''s waiting for us. We''ll see you in Cranwell very soon.¡±


    ¡°Yes, see you there. Love you, Nut!¡±


    Hazel chuckled at the use of her childhood nickname. ¡°Love you Mum! See you soon.¡± There was a click and the connection was severed. The radio returned to its previous volume. The music had stopped, though, and had been replaced by a man warning people of the penalties awaiting people who looted empty houses and closed shops.


    Margaret stood there for a long moment. The house suddenly felt very empty. Her children would, in all probability, never come here again. Her husband would probably come some day, to salvage what he could from the waterlogged wreckage, but Margaret wouldn¡¯t come with him. It would be too heart breaking.


    The doorbell rang and she gave a sigh of relief. The default voice of the house computer informed her that the person at the door was nobody they knew. Margaret knew who it was, though, and a glance out through the window confirmed her guess. A large black hatchback car with the logo of the Comfrey Automobiles company on the side, that being the company that leased vehicles to the military. She went to the door and opened it.


    A man in RAF uniform was standing there. ¡°Mrs Margaret Lewis?¡± he asked. Margaret confirmed that that was who she was. ¡°I¡¯m Captain Larry McMillan. I''ve come to take you to your temporary accommodations at RAF Cranwell.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I''ve already locked up and everything. Hey, computer. Power down the house, please. Long term absence.¡±


    The house computer acknowledged and the radio turned itself off. Around the house, everything else would also be turning itself off. The media system, the environment system. The fridge and the freezer which she''d already emptied. Finally the house computer would put itself in minimal power mode leaving only the security system active, and that would also go down when the power company cut power to the whole neighbourhood as the floodwaters came close.


    She directed the autoporter to carry her two suitcases out to the car, which loaded them in the back, and then the porter returned to its garage and turned itself off. All that was then left to do was for Margaret to leave the house. She paused in the hall, looking back towards the living room. She looked left and right into the kitchen and the stairs up to the first floor. She didn''t want to go. She wanted to go into the kitchen, make herself a cup of tea and take it into the living room where she would settle down into her snug chair in front of the fire and wait for her husband to come home. Instead, she turned and stepped out the front door, closing it firmly behind her. With an effort of will she forced herself not to start crying.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°Let''s go.¡± She marched down the drive towards the car, which opened a door to let her climb in. The RAF officer got in beside her. ¡°RAF Cranwell,¡± he said, and the car moved off along the road. Margaret forced herself not to look back at the house as they left it behind.


    Some of the houses they passed already had broken windows, she saw. There were very few people out and about. A couple of children going home from school. Another child standing at a bus stop. Classes must be almost empty, she thought. Pretty much everyone with children had already moved to higher ground. Either staying with relatives or camping out on any bit of open ground they could find, picking out the good spots before they were taken. She wondered how many teachers were left to teach the children who were still turning up.


    ¡°May I ask where you live?¡± she asked the RAF officer.


    ¡°Norwich, Ma''am. Safely above the high tide mark. The house is a bit crowded, though, since we took in my sister and her family plus my mum and dad. Still, got to be thankful. There¡¯s plenty worse off than us, or will be soon enough.¡±


    ¡°Are there many other people being given refuge at the airbase?¡±


    ¡°Some. Officers families mainly, and the families of VIP¡¯s. People who need to know their families are safe so they can give all their attention to their jobs.¡±


    ¡°Like astronauts, for instance.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Ma''am. Ma''am, is it true the Chinese can stop it happening? The floods, I mean.¡±


    ¡°You know as much as I do, Captain.¡±


    ¡°It just sounds so incredible! Like science fiction.¡±


    ¡°I know. I spoke to my husband just this morning. He finds it hard to believe as well.¡±


    ¡°But if there is a chance it could work, if there¡¯s even a small chance, then your husband is one of the people who''ll make it work, so he can''t be distracted wondering if his family''s okay. You''ll be safe there, Ma''am. Lots of soldiers to look after you and barbed wire fences to hide behind.¡±


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.     ¡°Are you expecting trouble, then?¡±


    ¡°Always best to be prepared, Ma''am.¡±


    That was a rather disturbing statement and Margaret stared at him for a moment, wondering if he would elaborate, but the RAF Captain just looked out the window at the empty, snow covered houses while the car, entering a long, straight stretch of road, picked up speed. She briefly thought about asking what kind of trouble he thought they might have, but then decided against it and told the car to play some music.


    Some people were putting out sandbags, she saw. Lines of sandbags stacked three or four high making walls around their houses half a metre tall. Margaret shook here head in amazement. They had no idea what was coming! This was an area that was often flooded as rivers burst their banks during times of heavy rain. Water would flow down the streets, entering houses under the doors and soaking their carpets. The carpet would be ruined, but if the house could be dried out before mold damage occurred it could be made as good as new quite quickly. That''s what they thought was coming, she realised, despite all the public information broadcasts on the television and across the internet. She could imagine stubborn old men and women telling their neighbours that they''d survived half a dozen floods and would survive this one as well. She took her phone from her pocket and called up a flood map. It confirmed that the street they were driving along would soon be under ten metres of water. Even the satellite dishes on their roofs would be beneath the waves!


    ¡°Maybe they''re putting their faith in the Chinese,¡± said Captain McMillan when she mentioned it to him. ¡°Who knows, maybe they really can do it. Maybe your house will be spared. You might be moving back in a few days.¡±


    It was a nice thought, but Margaret couldn¡¯t make herself believe it. To most people, the moon was just a small, round thing in the sky. Even today, most people didn''t really understand what it was. A world in its own right, more than three thousand kilometres across. The idea that any man made device could remove the mass from an entire world... She shook her head in disbelief. It wasn''t going to happen. The flood was coming, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.


    When Margaret drove anywhere, she normally liked to take the back roads and enjoy the rustic scenery, but Captain McMillan clearly wanted to get her there as quickly as possible and so he told the car to take the most direct route. The car took them to the A16, therefore, to the Sutterton roundabout where they turned left onto the A17. As always, the traffic was dominated by huge trucks carrying shipping containers and other forms of cargo. What family cars there were stayed in the outermost lanes while the driverless trucks thundered past them on the innermost three lanes. The countryside around them was covered with snow and another flurry was beginning to fall, slipping off the frictionless windscreen to leave it so perfectly clear that it was easy to believe that there was nothing between them and the cold winter air. Of course, if that had been the case, the car would have been nothing like as cosy and warm as it was. Margaret relaxed in her seat and watched the world go by while the music continued to play.


    RAF Cranwell consisted of a hundred acres of flat grassland containing two runways crossing each other almost at right angles and two clusters of buildings. One cluster of buildings was responsible for the day to day business of running an airport and also contained the Royal Air Force College that trained new officers and aircrew. The hangers in which the aircraft were stored and serviced were also in that area, although separated from the other buildings by an area of snow covered tarmac. After passing the gate and checkpoint in the barbed wire fence, though, the car took them to the other cluster of buildings, which served as housing for the airport¡¯s personnel and such guests as they might be hosting at the time.


    As they passed the closer of the two hangers, Margaret saw a Typhoon parked on the tarmac in front of it. Gleaming silver and white, its cockpit dome shining in the sun. She craned her neck to keep the fighter in sight as the car turned away from it, wondering whether she''d get a chance for a closer look at it during her time there. There was no-one in sight near it. There didn''t seem to be anything to stop someone from walking right up to it.


    ¡°Beautiful, isn''t it?¡± said Captain McMillan. ¡°We''ve got four of them here, four of the new ones with all new avionics. It looks the same, but it¡¯s a completely new aircraft in every way that matters. I''ve flown one myself. Amazing aircraft, and forty per cent of it was built right here in Britain.¡±


    ¡°They say it¡¯s the best in the world,¡± said Margaret. ¡°My husband certainly thinks so.¡±


    ¡°He''s right. Has he ever flown one?¡±


    ¡°Not a Typhoon. He was in the navy air wing originally, before he entered the space program. He flew 147''s a couple of times, but he was mainly an F 35 pilot, flying from the Prince of Wales.¡±


    ¡°That''s a fine plane too. A bit long in the tooth these days, but still a good airframe. Many countries around the world still have them as the backbone of their air forces.¡±


    ¡°It''s funny that you still need pilots for them. We''ve got self driving cars, self driving trucks and ships, self driving passenger aircraft...¡±


    "Well, drones are becoming more and more important in air combat, it''s true, but they''re too vulnerable to jamming and hacking. No, combat aircraft are going to need human pilots for a long, long time to come.¡±


    ¡°Good. How does the Typhoon really compare to the F 35? The Americans always say their aircraft is better.¡±


    ¡°Well, the F 35 is partly British as well, the yanks tend to forget that. And everyone thinks their own aircraft is best. The Russians think their SU 57 is best and the Chinese think their J 20 is best. They¡¯re all designed for slightly different operational roles, of course, and some are better at one thing while another is better at another, but with the new avionics ours is without doubt the best fighter killer in the world. In a one to one showdown, there''s nothing in the air that can match it.¡±


    Margaret nodded and looked back one last time before turning her attention to the cluster of buildings ahead.


    The car stopped in front of a five storey apartment block. The car opened its doors and the two passengers stepped out. The car''s rear hatch opened and the two suitcases were lowered gently to the ground. ¡°Well, here we are,¡± said the Captain. ¡°You''ve been assigned apartment twelve, and your children and their families are in ten and eleven. You''ll be neighbours.¡±


    ¡°Good, I was hoping we would be.¡±


    ¡°If you send your luggage ahead, I''ll take you to reception.¡±


    Margaret nodded and gave the two suitcases their instructions. They darted off on their little wheels to a hatch in the side of the building which opened to let them in. Inside, a small elevator would take them up to the first floor and she would find them outside the door to her apartment when she got there.


    Captain McMillan, meanwhile, led the way to the main entrance, which opened for them as they approached. Inside the foyer were two elevators, a flight of steps, a door that led through into the common room and a potted plant beside a padded chair. There was also a display screen and a speaker mounted on the wall. The screen lit up as they approached to display the computer generated image of a young woman''s face. ¡°Good morning, Captain McMillan,¡± it said. ¡°How may I help you?¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Maxie,¡± said the Captain. ¡°This is Margaret Lewis, she''s staying in apartment twelve.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Margaret Lewis.¡±


    ¡°Call me Maggie, please,¡± said Margaret.


    ¡°I''d be delighted to. I''ve recorded your face and voice print. Just let me know if you need anything.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Maxie. Do you know if Richard Lewis and Hazel Montgomery have checked in yet?¡±


    ¡°Leonard and Hazel Montgomery checked in half an hour ago. They''re still in their rooms.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Maxie.¡± The image on the screen smiled at her, then vanished.


    ¡°I''ll show you the way,¡± said Captain McMillan, pressing the button on the elevator.


    ¡°That''s okay, Captain, I''ll be fine now. I prefer the stairs anyway.¡±


    ¡°Very well. You can contact me through Maxie if you need anything, or just ask anyone you see. They''ll all know how to get in touch with me. Please don''t approach the military facilities on the other side of the field, though. It''s embarrassing for the guards to have to turn people away.¡±


    Margaret smiled. ¡°Understood,¡± she said. ¡°Is there somewhere nearby I can rent a car?¡±


    ¡°Just ask Maxie, there''s a terminal in your apartment. She can give you all the information you need.¡± Margaret smiled her thanks and the Captain left, going back to the car.


    The elevator door opened but Margaret ignored it, heading for the stairs instead. Upstairs, she followed the corridor, looking at the numbers on the doors until she came to number eleven. She knocked and waited but there was no reply. She crossed the corridor to apartment ten and knocked there as well, and a moment later it opened.


    ¡°Mum!¡± cried Hazel in delight. ¡°Len, it¡¯s Mum!¡±


    ¡°Maggie!¡± said Len, coming into sight from the bedroom. He gave her a hug and gave her bottom a friendly squeeze. ¡°Still as beautiful as ever! Sometimes I think I should have married the mother instead of the daughter.¡±


    ¡°Len!¡± cried Hazel in shock. ¡°Behave yourself!¡± She turned to Margaret. ¡°I keep trying to teach him some civilised manners...¡±


    ¡°You wouldn''t love me if I had civilised manners. You wanted a rogue and you got one.¡±


    ¡°It''s true,¡± Hazel admitted to her mother. ¡°He really is a rogue. I worry sometimes what effect he¡¯ll have on our children, if we ever have any.¡±


    ¡°Of course we''re going to have children,¡± said Len, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. ¡°A girl as clever as you and a little boy as good looking as me.¡±


    ¡°Let''s not put a curse on him before he''s even been conceived.¡± Len just grinned wickedly at her.


    ¡°We''re still unpacking,¡± said Len as the two women hugged. ¡°Not that there''s much to unpack. A couple of suits and dresses to hang in the wardrobe, some socks and smalls to chuck in the drawers. We¡¯re pretty much done, actually. We''re enjoying the life of peace and tidiness before the little ones start popping out of Hazel''s tummy and we''re suddenly knee deep in baby stuff like poor Richard.¡±


    ¡°We''re hoping to be settled down somewhere permanent by then,¡± said Hazel. ¡°We were thinking of moving to Australia. Plenty of space, not many fault lines...¡±


    ¡°We can''t stay in this country,¡± agreed Len. ¡°Property prices are already crazy, and we don¡¯t have much money to speak of. If we stay, we¡¯re going to end up in some crowded high rise apartment block, probably sharing a place with a family from Yorkshire.¡±


    ¡°You could come with us,¡± said Hazel. ¡°You and Paul. We could all live together in the outback. Every country with space is going to be building new cities in the interior, away from the coast. Russia, Canada, the USA... There''s going to be plenty of work for architects. Len¡¯ll never be looking for work again.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± agreed Len. ¡°You''d be very welcome. It would be handy to have babysitters if we both decide to work.¡±


    ¡°That''s my husband,¡± said Hazel, smiling sweetly. ¡°Always thinking of the practicalities.¡±


    ¡°I''m sure Leonard would rather you had a place of your own,¡± said Margaret. ¡°We could live nearby, though. We''d definitely want to be close enough to visit...¡±


    ¡°Richard and Cathy Lewis have just arrived,¡± said Maxie''s voice from the wall speaker.


    ¡°Ah!¡± said Len, running over to the window and looking out. ¡°We asked her to let us know when they got here. She told us you were here, but we''d only just arrived ourselves. Ah yes, there they are.¡±


    The two women went to join him and saw another black car parked outside. Richard was leaning into the back seat to remove the baby carrier, which he handed to his wife. They spoke to the driver for a moment, and then they all headed towards the building.


    ¡°Let''s go meet them,¡± said Hazel. ¡°Welcome them to their temporary new home.¡±


    ¡°Great idea!¡± said Len. ¡°Coming, Mags?¡±


    Margaret agreed enthusiastically, and so the three of them left the room and headed for the stairs back down to the foyer.

 Chapter Twenty

    ¡°My family''s safe!¡± said Paul with immense relief. ¡°They''ve been taken to an air base, sixty metres above sea level. My wife, both my children and their families.¡±


    ¡°That is very good news,¡± said Jayesh, smiling his pleasure. ¡°My own family live in Jabalpur, nearly two hundred metres above sea level. It is also pretty much the least earthquake prone region of India. It may well be the safest place in the world now.¡±


    Paul smiled back. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll move there when this is all over,¡± he said. ¡°Me and the whole family. A place of stability, where we can watch the moon passing overhead every twenty nine days and just laugh at it.¡±


    ¡°You would be very welcome. The last time I was there half the city was empty. I expect that¡¯s changed by now.¡±


    ¡°And if it hasn''t yet, it very soon will.¡± He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. ¡°It''s going to be a strange world we end up living in. At the moment, more than half the human race lives on the coast. In the future, coastal cities are going to be empty half the time, with everyone retreating to higher ground every time the moon comes sweeping in, then returning to handle sea trade and fishing as it moves away again. They¡¯re going to be like oil rigs and the Antarctic stations, inhabited only by the people working there. They won''t be places where anyone actually lives any more. They''ll be soulless workplaces. No parks, no football fields. No plant life of any kind. Not even salt loving shore plants, because they won''t be able to handle the dryness for the four weeks between perigees. Just bare mud and concrete.¡±


    ¡°In Bangladesh, they build cities on stilts to avoid the flooding. Perhaps, in time, the coastal cities will be like that, with parks and football fields high above even the highest high tide.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d be one hell of a project! Two cities, one above the other. Above, trees and grass and pretty houses with gardens while, below, the ships come in to dock whenever the tide''s neither too high nor too low. Imagine cutting the grass in your garden while knowing that, twenty metres below your feet, no, more like fifty, there''s a massive container ship being unloaded. Damn, I''d like to live long enough to see that!¡±


    ¡°First, though, we must attend to more pressing matters,¡± said the Indian, looking out through the small round porthole. ¡°The Chinese rocket is making its final approach.¡±


    He moved aside to let the other man see, and Paul gasped at the sight of it. The Long March 22 had used its first stage and a cluster of huge booster rockets to get into space, but the rest of it, all sixty five metres of it, was still all in one piece making it by far the largest object ever to approach the space station. It was a huge cylinder, gleaming new, the sun reflecting brilliantly from the attitude control jets and various fixtures and fittings. Colourful markings and insignia stood out brightly on its curving hull. It all looked magnificent, a glorious tribute to the modern age, or it would have if the effect hadn''t been spoiled by the dark, grubby capsule attached to its front end, looking like some kind of cancerous growth.


    It was approaching the station with alarming speed. The Chinese were apparently in a hurry to get to work as fast as possible. ¡°Harmony space station," said the voice from the intercom. "This is Lunar Rescue One. Do you read me?¡±


    ¡°Lunar Rescue One, this is Harmony space Station,¡± they heard Susan reply from the command module. ¡°How you doing, guys?¡±


    ¡°We are doing very well. We request permission to approach and park alongside.¡±


    There was a pause while Susan spoke to the ground controllers. ¡°Permission granted, Lunar Rescue One.¡± she said at last. ¡°We will deploy the mooring arm.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Harmony. Making final approach now.¡±


    There was no apparent change to the approaching rocket, though. It had already been approaching and it continued to do so, aimed so that it would pass on the side of the station opposite the solar panels and making a closest approach of twenty metres or so. Then the attitude control rockets lit up, though, in a continuous burn to slow down the vast spaceship and bring it to a halt. It reduced speed slowly and gracefully, taking a full ten minutes to come to a complete stop, and then it rotated along its axis to bring its mooring point to face the space station. In the command module, Susan then told the mooring arm to reach out and lock onto the mooring point, forming a link between the two structure and holding it steady, although since the rocket was nearly half the length of the space station and had more than double its mass it was more a case of the rocket holding the space station steady.


    ¡°If that thing lights up now...¡±


    ¡°The arm would just snap off,¡± said Jayesh. ¡°It¡¯s got a deliberate weak point just in case that very thing happens.¡±


    ¡°That''s reassuring.¡±


    Susan¡¯s voice came over the intercom again. ¡°Would you like to come over and rest for a few hours before you get to work? Perhaps get something to eat?¡±


    ¡°Thank you but no,¡± said a female voice. ¡°We would like to get to work as quickly as possible. May we use the equipment aboard your space station?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Everything you need is in the Heineman module, Paul and Jayesh are already there, waiting to assist you. Please use airlock two.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Harmony. We''ll be right over.¡±


    A few moments later a hatch opened in the ancient Shenzou capsule, the ugly lump on the front of the rocket, and two figures carefully squeezed their way out of it, both wearing wings similar in design to the ones Susan had used but more ornamental. Deliberately beautiful. Chinese, thought Paul in amusement. They couldn''t make an ugly piece of equipment if they tried.


    One of the Chinese astronauts was holding a reel of cable in his hands and he, or she, attached one end of it to an attachment point on the side of the rocket. He then deployed his wings and used them to fly across space towards the space station, letting the cable play out behind him. The other suited figure, meanwhile, was doing something to the rocket near where the cable was attached. He appeared to be pulling and turning a series of latches, as if getting ready to open another hatch.


    The first suited figure, meanwhile, had reached the space station and Paul, looking through the small window, saw him attaching the other end of the cable to an attachment point beside the airlock door to form a cable ¡®bridge¡¯ that would make it easier to travel to and from the rocket. Then, after returning his wings to their storage positions, he entered the airlock and closed the outer door behind him. Paul and Jayesh waited for it to cycle and for the inner door to open, and then the figure pulled himself through and removed his helmet.


    The figure was revealed to be a middle aged Chinese woman with short, dark hair held down by a tight fitting hair net. ¡°My name is Yu Han,¡± she said in a stiff, clumsy accent. ¡°Please forgive the unseemly haste but time is short. We would like permission to leave both doors of the airlock open, to make it easier to come and go quickly.¡±


    Paul and Jayesh stared at each other in astonishment. ¡°You can''t do that, I''m afraid,¡± said Paul. ¡°There are safety features built in to make that impossible.¡±


    ¡°We know how to override the safety features. It will only take a moment and we will put it back to its proper state when we are finished. It will greatly increase the speed with which we can work.¡±


    ¡°It would mean leaving this whole module in vacuum!¡±


    ¡°Ground control has already okayed it, guys,¡± said Susan¡¯s voice over the intercom. ¡°They say the urgency of the situation justifies the risk.¡±


    Paul and Jayesh stared at each other again. ¡°Well, if they say it¡¯s okay...¡± said Paul.


    Yu smiled with pleasure. It made dimples appear at the corners of her mouth. ¡°If you gentlemen would mind leaving, then, I will get to work. Will you be able to use the ROMIS to help us? It is only a matter of bolting components together. Nothing complicated.¡±


    ¡°I''d be glad to,¡± said Paul. ¡°Just tell me what you want me to do.¡±


    Yu nodded. ¡°I understand a member of your crew is qualified to work in space.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Jayesh. ¡°Susan Kendall.¡±


    ¡°It would help us a great deal if she would also assist us in the assembly. The more hands we have, the faster the work will go.¡±


    ¡°I''m sure she''ll be delighted,¡± said Paul, who was sure she¡¯d be anything but. ¡°I''ll go help her get suited up.¡±


    ¡°Thank you very much. Please leave me now, to begin work.¡±


    She replaced her helmet and then turned to the tool racks attached to the walls of the module. She found what she was looking for straight away, a ratchet spanner, and turned back to the airlock door. She seemed to know where everything was supposed to be already, and so the two men left her to it, closing the hatch behind them.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Susan''s reaction was exactly what Paul had expected it to be. She swore and cursed, and there was a look of genuine fear on her face, as if it wasn''t just the discomfort and unpleasantness that was putting her off. She was genuinely afraid of going back out there. ¡°Look, you don¡¯t have to if you don''t want to,¡± said Paul. "If you''ve got a genuine phobia, that could put your life at risk. You could be risking the others... ¡°


    ¡°It''s not an actual phobia,¡± Susan replied, though. ¡°I can do it. I was just hoping I''d never have to again.¡±


    Paul looked around to make sure there were no active microphones listening in on them. ¡°You could say you''re feeling unwell. People have genuine medical reactions to a space environment...¡±


    ¡°I''ve been up here for months and I''ve never had the slightest health problem. They won¡¯t believe me if I suddenly have one now.¡±


    ¡°You could say you''ve been feeling a bit off for days and just didn''t want to mention it. Look, if you genuinely don''t like it out there you might hurry the work, to get back in faster. You might make a mistake...¡±


    ¡°I won''t make a mistake. I¡¯m going to get suited up. Come help me in a little while, okay?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re sure...¡±


    ¡°Let''s just get it done. I''ll let you know when I''m ready.¡±


    She swam through the hatch towards the Rotterdam module, one of the places where there were spacesuits stored. Arriving there, she got undressed, put a catheter into herself and put on the sanitary garment, something she was well practised with and got done in just a couple of minutes. Then she began pulling on the cooling jumpsuit. She got it up to her hips, which was as much as she could do by herself, and called on Paul to help her. He arrived a couple of minutes later and helped her pull the suit the rest of the way up.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°You really sure you¡¯re up to this?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I''m okay,¡± she said, making a effort to sound calm and composed. She smiled back at him. ¡°I''ve done this loads of times before. I''ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re not fine, come back immediately. Understand?¡±


    ¡°Promise. How do I look?¡±


    ¡°I think you''re okay. Still can''t get rid of that fold around your collar bone.¡±


    ¡°We never can,¡± she said, pulling the hood up over her head. A few stray strands of hair were still falling around her face, she tucked them back under the tight fabric. ¡°It¡¯s never been a problem. Help me with the lower torso unit.¡±


    Twenty minutes later she was fully dressed in the spacesuit except for the helmet, which she held in one hand. She turned on the intercom. ¡°What was her name again?¡± she asked Paul in a low voice.¡±


    ¡°Yu Han,¡± said a female voice from the speaker in her helmet.


    ¡°Yes, sorry,¡± said Susan, turning red with embarrassment. Paul put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. ¡°I''m pretty much ready to come out now,¡± she said. ¡°Paul, help me with the wings.¡±


    Paul helped her strap the compact unit around her shoulders. She read the fuel gauge, checking that it was full, and pressed the test button on the strap crossing her chest to run a diagnostic program. The green ¡®ready¡¯ button lit up. She took the handheld control unit from its storage position beside her shoulder, held it in her fist and moved the small joystick with her thumb. An image projected onto the inside of her visor told her that the unit was responding correctly. ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°I''m ready.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said Yu. ¡°You''ll need an eighteen millimetre spanner, nothing else. Please come to the rocket¡¯s payload bay.¡±


    ¡°On my way,¡± said Susan.


    ¡°And I''ll go get the robot fired up,¡± said Paul. ¡°See you out there.¡±


    ¡°See you out there,¡± replied Susan. She put the helmet on and swam into the airlock.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Koshing Goushi had removed the Shenzou re-entry module from the rocket and fitted a small rocket engine to its flat side. It now floated beside the Long March, the three metre diameter hemisphere dwarfed by the ten metre diameter cylinder. ¡°Ready to de-orbit the Shenzou,¡± he said.


    ¡°Do it,¡± said Yu.


    ¡°Acknowledged. Commencing de-orbit burn.¡± The small rocket lit up and the module drifted away from the space station, beginning its last journey that would culminate in its burning up in the Earth¡¯s atmosphere.


    ¡°Is there any chance it could survive re-entry?¡± asked Paul, watching on a screen in the space station''s command module. ¡°It was designed to do that, after all.¡±


    ¡°It is on a trajectory that will guarantee that it burns up,¡± replied the engineer. ¡°No part of it will reach the ground, I guarantee it.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I see you¡¯ve started the assembly without us.¡± Paul moved the ROMIS closer to get a better look.


    ¡°No time to waste if we want to meet our launch window.¡±


    Koshing had removed the outer casing from the forward end of the rocket, the end that had been just behind the Shenzou capsule. Inside was tightly packed machinery that the engineer had removed and that now floated all around it, attached by fine strands of cable to stop it drifting away and getting lost. Inside, still attached to the rocket, was a metal cage containing a jumble of machinery that looked as though it had never been meant to go together.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± asked Paul. ¡°That''s the machine that¡¯s going to remove the mass from the moon?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± replied Koshing, and Paul heard amusement in his voice. ¡°That is mainly transformers and processing units. This is the device that will remove the mass from the moon.¡±


    He moved in close and reached out a gloved hand to indicate something in the centre of it all. Susan moved closer to see better, and Paul moved the ROMIS closer as well. Right in the centre of the untidy assemblage of machinery was something small and round. About three centimetres across, dull white in colour but streaked with red and with cables protruding from one side. It looked disturbingly like an eyeball that had been ripped from someone''s head.


    ¡°That?¡± said Paul in disbelief. ¡°That tiny thing?¡±


    ¡°The whole space station is a tiny thing compared to the moon,¡± pointed out the engineer. ¡°We have been assured that it will do the job, though.¡±


    ¡°How does it work?¡±


    ¡°I do not know, I am not a scientist.¡±


    ¡°If we may get to work?¡± said Yu, floating in alongside. ¡°Koshing and I will assemble the apparatus. We have been thoroughly coached on the procedure and know what to do. Paul and Sarah will assemble the solar panels. This merely involves moving them into position and bolting them together, then attaching the power cables. There will be four main struts reaching out from the rocket, with the panels attached to either side of each strut. A diagram has been etched into the inside of casing element one.¡± She indicated a curved sheet of steel floating nearby, attached to a thin tether. It looked a little like a beetle¡¯s wing case. ¡°Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Sarah, floating over to look at it. Then she used her wings to take her over to the nearest solar panel. ¡°These look like they came from someone''s roof.¡±


    ¡°They did come from someone''s roof, or they would have if we hadn''t taken them from the factory first. We had to use what we could get.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Sarah. ¡°Let''s make a start, then. We''ll have to do the strut first. Grab that length there, Paul.¡±


    Paul reached out with the ROMIS¡¯s robot hand and took hold of the three metre long strut section. It consisted of three aluminium bars running parallel in a triangular arrangement and held together with diagonal cross members. He carefully moved it into position, with one end touching its attachment point on the rocket. Then Sarah fitted bolts through the holes that had been drilled for them and began tightening them up.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    It took them about twenty four hours to complete the assembly, with the astronauts returning to the space station every few hours to rest, eat and have a short nap. The two Chinese engineers begrudged every delay and urged them to return to work as soon as possible, but Jayesh was adamant that they be fully rested before returning to the construction. As the doctor he had the final word, but the two engineers were so insistent that he relented a little and agreed to allow Susan to go back to work sooner than he ideally would have wanted, so long as she thought she was up to it. Susan just wanted it to be over as soon as possible and so agreed to make do with nothing more than the odd catnap, during which she remained in her spacesuit. Paul, of course, could take turns with Benny to operate the ROMIS and so had no such problems, but he watched Susan carefully, looking for the first sign that she was beginning to suffer from fatigue or stress.


    Finally, though, the construction was complete and the astronauts drew back to look at it. The Long March rocket now looked a little like a dragonfly, with four wings made of solar panels reaching out diagonally from the front of the rocket. The machine at the front, which would actually reduce the moon''s mass, was too small to see at this distance.


    They removed the cable linking the space station to the rocket and Paul unfastened the mooring arm, leaving the rocket floating freely in space. ¡°Now all that remains is to wait for the launch window,¡± said Koshing as they all returned to the space station. ¡°Fifteen minutes from now.¡± He sounded pleased. If they''d missed the window, they would have had to wait ninety minutes for the space station to make another orbit around the earth. As Benny returned the ROMIS to its storage bay, Paul looked out the window and saw that the Long March had already fired its small manoeuvring rockets to take it a safe distance from the space station. Then it turned, slowly and gracefully, to point its great engines in the right direction.


    Back in the space station, the men each took a spacesuited astronaut and helped them to undress. Paul found himself with Yu, who chatted amicably about life in her home village as he helped her out of her cooling jumpsuit. As she pulled the hair net from her head, Paul found himself growing rather aroused by the smell of stale sweat that rose from her black hair where it was plastered to her scalp. She then unfastened the front of the cooling jumpsuit and pulled it open, releasing more stale sweat smell. She wasn''t wearing a bra, Paul noticed, and seemed to have no self consciousness as she peeled the jumpsuit from her chest.


    Yu noticed the Englishman trying to avert his eyes and laughed. ¡°I wore a brassiere when I was young and shy,¡± she said, ¡°But it was uncomfortable. It would get soaked with sweat and chafe my skin and I thought why am I doing this to myself when we are all sensible adults?"


    She laughed again and Paul relaxed in relief but then, to his alarm, she began to remove her sanitary garment. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to go somewhere private to do that?¡± he asked, but she just smiled at him without pausing so he and Benny left the two women to it.


    They wanted to watch the rocket make its departure, and so they decided to leave the ¡®showers¡¯ until afterwards. Susan and their Chinese visitors dressed themselves in towels, therefore, Yu merely putting hers around her waist. Paul, joining them in the Rotterdam module, which was positioned to give the best view, looked up at the camera mounted on the wall and wondered what the ground controllers were making of this, but no comment came from the speaker.


    He hated himself for the way his eyes were constantly drawn to the Chinese woman''s small breasts. You¡¯re married, you idiot! he scolded himself, but his brain didn''t care and kept trying to turn his eyes in her direction. At least Susan was fully covered, with her towel covering everything between her shoulders and her bare feet. He made himself look out the window at the rocket, which had shrunk to a much smaller size with the distance.


    A voice speaking Chinese came from the speaker. ¡°Engine ignition in sixty seconds,¡± said one of the Canberra ground controllers, translating. There was no need for anyone in the space station or Australia to do anything. The Long March was being controlled from Jiuchan in China.


    ¡°No spacecraft has ever flown a trajectory like this before,¡± said Koshing, adjusting the towel around his waist. ¡°It will fly almost directly towards the moon, go past it and then turn almost one hundred and eighty degrees to catch up with it from behind.¡±


    ¡°Very wasteful of fuel,¡± said Benny.


    ¡°Yes, but it is the only way to match velocities with the moon fast enough. It will enter orbit around the moon, and then the device will activate.¡±


    ¡°And you really think it¡¯ll work?¡± asked Susan. ¡°You think it¡¯s actually possible?¡±


    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll see in a day or so,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°But it can''t work!¡± protested Susan. ¡°It''s just not possible!¡±


    ¡°Like I said, we¡¯ll see before long.¡±


    Susan stared at him, sheer disbelief on her face, but then she shrugged and turned back to the window. The voices from the speaker were counting down the last few seconds. ¡°We''re getting good power from the solar panels,¡± the Australian voice translated. ¡°Everything''s green. We''re good to go.¡± A different Chinese voice spoke, but the same Australian voice translated. ¡°Departure is approved. Prepare for ignition. Ignition in five seconds. Four, three...¡±


    There was already a blue glow coming from the fifteen nozzles at the rear of the rocket, though. The voice from Canberra was delayed by the speed of light. Gradually the huge rocket began to move, picking up speed. The beams holding the solar panels bent a little as they gained weight, but the Chinese engineers had done their calculations correctly and they stood up to the strain. ¡°Spacecraft is nominal,¡± the speaker said. ¡°Trajectory is good. Engine shutdown in ten minutes twenty seconds.¡±


    ¡°Guess we didn''t make any mistakes then,¡± said Susan, giving Paul a look.


    He smiled apologetically back at her. ¡°You okay?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. She looked tired, but there was relief there as well. She really did hate spacewalking, and this unexpected task had come as a shock to her, but it was done now and there surely wouldn''t be another reason for her to go out there. She was done spacewalking, for ever, and she had never been more glad of anything in her life. ¡°Nothing to do now but go home.¡±


    ¡°We can''t go now until the moon¡¯s gone past,¡± said Jayesh. ¡°If this Chinese miracle device does somehow work, free falling trajectories will be impossible to calculate. We might think we¡¯re at the right angle of attack and then the Chinese will turn their device on or turn it off and the new gravitational force will throw us off. Like it or not, we''ve got to wait until after perigee.¡±


    ¡°The effect won''t be too bad, surely,¡± said Benny, though. ¡°And the moon¡¯s still a couple of days away. There''s no reason why we can''t go now. I was hoping to be back with my family when the moon goes past.¡±


    ¡°Best we wait,¡± said Koshing. ¡°After all these months, another few days will make no difference.¡±


    ¡°You''re guests here. You don¡¯t make the decisions.¡±


    ¡°Neither do you. We wait.¡±


    Benny shared a glance with Jayesh, then with Paul. He''s still thinking of taking the shuttle, against the instructions of the ground controllers, Paul realised with shock. It would mean stranding anyone who refused to come with him, but maybe he''d be prepared to do that. It wouldn''t be as if he was sentencing them to death, after all. They''d still have the Jinlong, which could be refuelled by the Mule. What would he say if the Swede asked him to come with him? he wondered. How much trouble would he be in when he was back on the ground? Did he want to be back with his family badly enough to be willing to face the consequences?


    They watched the rocket as it shrank in the distance, eventually becoming just one more star, and then Yu gave a great sigh of relief. ¡°Well, I am going to get myself cleaned up,¡± she said. ¡°I am sure you will all be very relieved when I smell sweet again. Come, Susan. We will talk about men while we wash.¡±


    Susan smiled and followed the Chinese woman as she swam through the air towards the hatch.


    ¡°We have two sanitary areas,¡± said Paul to Koshing. ¡°One in each of the habitation modules...¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± the engineer replied, smiling. ¡°I helped assemble this place. I will see you gentlemen later.¡±


    He swam after the women, but turned left rather than right while trying to keep the blanket from drifting out of place. Paul, Benny and Jayesh then looked out the small window one last time before returning to their normal duties.

 Chapter Twenty One

    The moon was beginning to loom large, Samantha saw as she waited outside the school. It was now twice as close as its previous orbit had ever brought it to the Earth and was twice it''s normal size in the sky. Everyone who went outside, or who went close to a window, paused for a moment to stare up at it and feel a shiver of primordial fear.


    It was half full now, which should have meant that craters and mountains were picked out in beautiful detail by the sun shining sideways across them, but half of those craters and mountains no longer existed and those that were left were hidden, along with the magma ocean that now covered nearly half the surface, by the thick layers of clouds that shrouded them.


    The clouds had details of their own, though, she saw. The supersonic winds that blew from the hot, molten side to the cold, frozen side of the small world left streaks in the thick, volcanic dust running parallel across the dividing line between the moon''s light and dark sides. There was also a ragged line of lighter patches running north to south where the clouds were rising higher than everywhere else and being lit by the sun. Each patch must mark the site of a massive fountain of molten rock, she mused, where magma was gushing out from cracks in the crust as it slowly broke apart in advance of the growing ocean of lava.


    There was enough material there for generations of researchers, she thought, and she really ought to be right at the forefront of things, studying the convulsions of the tortured moon and learning things about their natural satellite that might otherwise have remained unknown for centuries to come. The idea of returning to work sickened her, though. She had loved the moon too much to take any joy in its present condition. She had explained this to Neil and other former colleagues, but her phone kept ringing anyway with journalists, astronomers and other scientists wanting her views on something or other to do with the moon.


    The latest had been the Chinese mission, of course. Was it really possible? some journalist had asked her, and of course she''d answered No! It''s not bloody possible! before cutting the connection with a savage jab of her finger at the screen. What were they playing at? she wondered yet again as she paced up and down in front of the iron railings like a tiger in a cage. Anyone with three functioning brain cells knew that you couldn''t just turn off an object''s mass like that! The Chinese were obviously up to something else up there, and no doubt there were plenty of people all around the world trying to work out what it was, but people like her probably wouldn¡¯t find out until years later, if at all.


    The reaction of the church authorities had amused her, though. When being interviewed by journalists on television, they all said that they were praying for the success of the mission and encouraging their followers to do the same, but it was obvious that their hearts weren''t in it. Church attendance had skyrocketed in the last few days. The supremacy of God in the world, the pitiful triviality of all man''s works in the face of what the Almighty could do, was bringing about a resurgence of religious power and influence that the church authorities hadn''t thought possible. If the Chinese mission succeeded, though, then it would all be undone. It would be the mastery of mankind that would be affirmed, possibly bringing about the final collapse of religious belief that academics had been talking about for a hundred years.


    It wouldn¡¯t have been so bad if a crew of Christian astronauts were doing it. Then the various churches of the world could have claimed that they were acting on behalf of God, that they were doing His work. Some people might have wondered why God had knocked the moon into its new orbit only to inspire his followers to put it back again, but the Church had ways of fielding questions like that. Good, God fearing Christians had done it, and that would have been what mattered.


    For the Chinese to do it, though... A nation of idolaters and atheists who cared nothing for the Christian God! The old ¡®God moves in mysterious ways¡¯ thing just wouldn¡¯t cut it this time and the church authorities knew it. It was obvious even to the least observant and perceptive of people that the church was secretly praying for the mission to fail.


    The radio was playing music in her ears, which then stopped for the news headlines. It was all about the moon, of course. High tides overwhelming sea defences across half the world and low tides leaving vast stretches of sea bed exposed across the other half. All large ships, both civilian and military, were heading out into deep water to ride out the event. There was news of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions as well, including some in parts of the world that had never known such things before. One such earthquake, a five on the Richter scale, had had its epicentre in South Wales, just a few miles away. She''d felt it herself, around midday, as she was getting herself some lunch. Just a minor tremor in the greater scheme of things, but a harbinger of what was to come.


    The main event would come in two days, when the moon made its closest approach. A period of about twelve hours as the passage of the moon and the rotation of the Earth meant that the moon would seem to linger over the Atlantic Ocean, hanging almost motionless in the sky. Every television channel and internet site was still giving warnings and advice, and the refugee camps for people fleeing coastal cities were still only half complete. There were riots as people protested the government¡¯s stockpiling of food and medical supplies, and people suspected of hoarding were being attacked, their homes broken into. That had worried Samantha more than anything else as she thought about her packed freezers and the piles of tinned food in the cupboard under the stairs. Things were going to be bad, and that was just in Britain, one of the richest countries in the world. What it would be like in poorer countries threatened the sanity of anyone who thought about it for too long.


    She felt her eyes being dragged back towards the horizon, where the huge moon hung above the rooftops, soon to drop out of sight until the next morning. Was it her imagination, or were the clouds thinning on its eastern limb? There was a redness beginning to shine through that she hadn''t noticed before, as if the ocean of lava was gradually becoming visible. She supposed it was possible. As the air was heated and rose, it would spread out sideways in all directions, pushing the clouds ahead of it, and there were no longer any geysers of lava in that area to create new smoke. The ocean of lava would be giving off gas, of course, but it would mainly be transparent gases like carbon dioxide. Maybe even water vapour. Now that was an exciting possibility! She knew from her past work that there was a great deal of water trapped inside the moon, deep below the surface. Maybe there would soon be water clouds drifting across the face of the moon, condensing and falling as rain to evaporate again as it neared the molten rock below.


    It wouldn¡¯t last, of course. The water would be split by sunlight into hydrogen and oxygen and the hydrogen would be lost to space, but that would probably take a very long time. There might be pretty clouds drifting across the moon¡¯s ocean of lava for thousands of years to come! She chuckled to herself at the realisation that she still couldn¡¯t stop thinking like a scientist, like a lunar astronomer, even though she was pretty much determined to give up that profession and find some other way of making a living. She could teach, she thought. She would enjoy teaching science. Perhaps even get a job at the new Bristol University, wherever it turned out to be, but as a teacher rather than a researcher. It might even give her the chance to keep in touch with the University''s ongoing research projects... No! She was done with research! Let someone else pry out the moon''s secrets. To her it would be too much like attending the autopsy of an old friend.


    The school bell rang and Samantha turned to face the school. A few minutes later children began to emerge, running to be met by parents or walking in groups of two or three, chatting and giggling. She spotted Lily walking alone, her satchel slung over one shoulder, and noted her unhappy, downward looking face with concern. The other children had been teasing her about the moon again, she guessed. Lily had always been a popular girl among the other pupils, she knew, but everyone knew who her mother was, and everyone knew that Lily was also obsessed with the moon and that was a lure that her classmates couldn¡¯t resist. They called her Moon Girl now and pretended to blame her for all the upheavals the world was undergoing. Lily was smart enough to deflect the abuse by treating it as a joke and going along with it, but it was taking its toll, wearing her down a little bit at a time, and Samantha found herself hating the other girls for it. She''d spoken to the teachers, but she knew there was only so much they could do without making it worse. If they punished the bullies, the abuse from Lily¡¯s classmates might turn from joking to genuine hatred.


    ¡°You okay, Sweetheart?¡± she asked, putting her arms around the little girl.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Have they been calling you names again?¡±


    ¡°Not too much. They''re just joking.¡±


    ¡°I know you don¡¯t like it, but the trick is to pretend that you don¡¯t care. That way they''ll soon get bored and start making fun of someone else.¡±


    ¡°I know. You told me yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Does it work?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡± She was lying, Samantha knew, but she let it go. ¡°I hate the moon!¡± the little girl suddenly burst out. ¡°I used to love it but now I hate it! I''m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know,¡± said Samantha. ¡°I hate it too.¡±


    Lily stared at her in astonishment. ¡°I thought you loved it!¡±


    ¡°I used to, but not any more. The moon''s going to kill a lot of people very soon. I know it¡¯s silly to hate it, because it¡¯s just a big lump of rock, but I hate it anyway.¡±


    Lily kept on staring at her, and there was suddenly such adoration in the little girl''s face that it almost made Samantha burst into tears. ¡°Come on, Sweetheart,¡± she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. The love she suddenly felt for her daughter was so powerful that it made it difficult to speak. ¡°Let''s go home.¡±


    Lily took one of her mother¡¯s hands in hers and they walked back to the car together. The doors opened for them, they got in and the seatbelts fastened themselves across the two passengers. ¡°Home, M¡¯lady?¡± the car asked.


    ¡°Home, Parker,¡± Samantha replied. The car waited for another car to go past, then pulled out into the street.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Were there many children absent from your class, Lily?¡± she asked as they sped along the road.


    ¡±A few,¡± Lily replied. ¡°Mary wasn''t there today, or Tina or Habiib. I heard Sonja tell Claire that she''s going to live with her aunt in Chipping Sodbury tonight.¡±


    Samantha nodded. Bristol wasn''t a coastal city. It was a river city and, even though large parts of it were destined to be inundated, most of it wouldn¡¯t be. Samantha and Lily lived twenty nine metres above sea level, and the latest flood maps were predicting that the water wouldn¡¯t rise higher than twenty five metres here. Samantha knew how the predictions were made and had confidence in them. They said that the shopping centre she mainly relied upon for her weekly groceries would remain above water, and so would the roads linking them with the rest of the country. Once the initial panic was over and the country settled down into its new reality, food supplies would be regular and reliable. In a way, it was good fortune that they were so close to the flood zone because it meant that they wouldn¡¯t be overwhelmed by refugees fleeing the rising waters. They would all go further inland and pass them by. She felt safe remaining in her home, therefore, and apparently most of the families whose children attended St Randall¡¯s Primary School felt the same way.


    They all lived several metres higher above sea level than Samantha did, though. As the car drove downhill they passed streets where most of the people had left, probably staying with relatives for the duration of the first perigee until they saw whether their houses survived the event. If that proved to be the case, they would probably return and stay at home for future perigees, but for the time being the part of the city in which she lived had turned into a ghost town. There was scarcely a parked car to be seen as they entered their street, and the windows of the houses they passed were dark and empty. Last night¡¯s snowfall still lay largely undisturbed despite it being mid afternoon. It gave the street an eerily post apocalyptic feel, as if some disaster had already befallen. Samantha and her daughter sat in an uncomfortable silence as the car reversed itself into their drive, therefore. As the seatbelts released them and the doors opened, an eerie silence greeted them, broken only by the distant sound of an aircraft passing far overhead. Somehow, the sound only served to make the silence even deeper and more powerful, though, and they both hurried for the door.


    ¡°Are we going to be okay, mummy?¡± asked Lily as her mother stood in front of the door camera and the house computer read her face. ¡°When the moon goes past?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sweetheart,¡± said Samantha confidently, reaching a hand over to give her daughter¡¯s hair a playful ruffle. ¡°We''re going to be just fine.¡±


    Then the door opened and Lily dashed in, the television already turning itself on. The sound of a children¡¯s program broke the silence and created a cosy atmosphere as Samantha closed the door to shut out the cold, empty world outside.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Frank was staring at the two metre whiteboard, Eddie saw as he entered the small lecture hall. The board was covered with notes and equations, some of it of a nature that even Eddie, who had an advanced degree in mathematics, found totally unfathomable. Alice had told him that he often spent time here, while waiting for an experiment or as simulation to finish, trying to find a way to model what the mass dampener did.


    He had admitted that he had no idea how the alien device worked, but that he might be able to figure out what it did, in much the same way that an ancient Greek philosopher might be able to figure out how an internal combustion engine worked while knowing nothing about chemistry or electricity. He might be able to trace the mechanics of the engine, from the pistons to the clutch to the gearbox, for instance, and in the same way Frank was hoping to be able to trace the mathematics of the mass dampener. He would spend hours in here, therefore, or in any vacant room with a whiteboard onto which he could download his equations, and then just stare at it while things went on in his head that few other human beings could comprehend.


    Eddie was a theoretical physicist, that being the reason Ben had chosen him for the project, but he was also a practical engineer and he had spent most of the time since his arrival staring at the reverse engineered prototype mass dampener, trying to figure it out. It was one hundred per cent human technology, so he thought he ought to be able to figure out what was going on when it was turned on, and just a little while ago something had occurred to him that had made him stand up straight and tremble with excitement. Probably it was nothing. Probably he¡¯d made a mistake, misunderstood something. Overlooked something obvious. Or perhaps, he dared to hope, he''d had a genuine insight, something that hadn¡¯t occurred to anyone else in the fifty years they''d been studying the alien ship. He needed to talk to Frank, he decided. The slightly older man would probably see where he''d made the mistake and point it out to him, patiently and with consideration for his feelings, and Eddie would leave humbled and embarrassed. Or perhaps not...


    Frank was so totally engrossed in the equations that he completely failed to hear Eddie approaching. Eddie stood beside him for a few moments, watching as the other man''s eyes scanned across the arcane symbols and then closed as he tried to visualise something. Something that could not he displayed on any computer screen. Eddie hesitated to disturb him, in case he derailed some important train of thought, but then Frank opened his eyes again and this time he saw the other man standing beside him. ¡®Eddie!¡± he said, smiling. ¡°Sorry, I tend to lose myself in my own little world...¡±


    ¡°Sorry to disturb you,¡± said Eddie. ¡®Is this a bad time?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. What can I do for you?¡±


    Eddie''s eye had been caught by an equation near the top of the board, though. ¡°Is that the Holmes-Palekar equation?¡± he said. ¡°You think the mass dampener uses higher dimensions?¡±


    Frank reached up to touch the equation and drag it down to eye level. A couple of other equations moved aside to make room for it. ¡°It would explain many things if it made use of a Douglas-b manifold. We know that there are at least thirteen dimensions, with all but four of them rolled up small so that we don''t notice them..." He paused with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. Cyclically reduced. I''m so used to lecturing to high school kids..."


    Eddie smiled back. "It''s okay. Rolled up small is just how I think of it. So you think that the mass dampener re-orders them according to their Hawking quotient."


    ¡°Something like that. So far, the only thing in its favour is that it fits what we know about it, but we know so little that a great many different theories would fit. I''m trying to think of a testable prediction. Something that could prove the idea to be completely wrong.¡±


    Eddie stared at the wall, thinking. ¡°I may be able to help you there,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°I wanted to talk to you because something occurred to me while I was looking at your prototype. With a slight adjustment, I think it might be possible to increase an object''s mass, instead of reducing it. If your theory is right, it would be re-ordering the rolled up dimensions according to their inverse Hawking quotient."


    ¡°What adjustments are you talking about?¡± asked Frank.


    Eddie produced his phone, pulled up an image and swiped it onto the whiteboard. The equations all shrank away to a corner of the board to make room for it. ¡°You see, at the moment you have polarised phonons going into the superfluid lens here, focusing them onto the photino crystal here.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Something similar seems to happen in the original alien devices. We just substituted each part of the alien device with a piece of our own tech that we thought did more or less the same thing. It works, sort of. I think of the prototype as like the Flintstones¡¯ car. Replace the wheels with cylinders of rock, replace the engine with Fred¡¯s feet and so on. You end up with a sort of a car that sort of works without having the slightest idea how a fuel cell works, or a nanoprocessor.¡±


    Eddie grinned. ¡°I like that!¡± he said. ¡°Bedrock technology. Well, what I thought was, what if we did this?¡± He activated a short animation that showed the prototype rearranging itself, the components attaching to each other in a different order. ¡°You see? Now the superfluid lens focuses the phonons here instead...¡±


    Frank stared at the diagram for a few moment, then closed his eyes. Eddie stared at him in fascination. Behind those eyelids, a private laboratory was coming to life. A laboratory of the imagination in which particles and forces interacted with each other, in which miracles of advanced physics could take place without a single superconducting coil or crystal pump. Eddie wished he could see what Frank was seeing right now, wished he could peer into the others man''s head and get a glimpse of what a true genius¡¯s thought processes looked like. If only it were possible! Some kind of telepathy...


    Frank opened his eyes and stared back at Eddie. ¡°Where did you get this idea from?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don''t know, really. I was just looking at the prototype, trying to make sense of what each bit did, and it just sort of came to me.¡±


    ¡°Some people can do that, apparently. Natural insight, they call it. I''ve never trusted the idea. Science should be orderly, systematic. You gather as much data as possible, you look for patterns. You devise a theory, use it to make a prediction and then conduct an experiment to test the prediction. Each step follows logically from the previous one. You can break the process down into a series of steps so simple that you can explain it to a six year old. This kind of wild intuition, though. Simply jumping to a conclusion without bothering with the intervening steps. I''ve always thought it to be lazy, sloppy.¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry, I shouldn¡¯t have disturbed you...¡±


    Eddie turned to go but Frank grabbed his arm to stop him. ¡°I said I used to think that. This idea of yours. I would never have thought of it. Maybe a few years from now I''d have arrived at it by slow, logical steps... The more I think about it, though, the more I think it¡¯s an idea worth trying, even if it has no practical applications. Why would you want to increase an object''s mass?¡±


    ¡°The exhaust problem!¡±


    ¡°The what? The exhaust... What problem?¡±


    Eddie stared at him. ¡°We thought about pushing the moon back into its original orbit, remember? But the exhaust of a rocket engine would have its mass reduced, along with the moon...¡±


    ¡°Build a mass amplifier!¡± said Frank, becoming excited in turn. ¡°A small one, just big enough for its area of effect to surround the rocket engine, cancelling out the mass dampener. The moon has minuscule mass, but the rocket and its exhaust has full mass.¡±


    ¡°Exactly!¡±


    ¡®It won''t work, though.¡±


    ¡°Eh? Why not?¡±


    ¡°You''d have to anchor your rocket engine to solid ground, so it can push it. It also has to be on the moon''s trailing hemisphere, because we want to push the moon forward. Move it faster so that it moves into a higher orbit.¡±


    ¡°Yes. So what?¡±


    ¡°So the moon now turns on its axis once every twenty days or so. It used to be every twenty seven days, but the impact of the Scatter Cloud left it with a faster spin. We need to give the moon a push when it¡¯s at apogee, the furthest point in its orbit...¡±


    Eddie stared in horror as he got it. ¡°Fourteen days after apogee, when it¡¯s once again four hundred thousand kilometres from the Earth, it will have made one and a half rotations. The magma ocean will be on its trailing hemisphere.¡±


    ¡°And if we wait for the moon to complete another orbit around the Earth, the whole moon will have become molten. We''ll have lost the opportunity until it cools enough for a solid crust to form again. Hundreds of years from now.¡±


    ¡°More like thousands,¡± said Eddie, feeling crushed. ¡°Vacuum is one hell of an insulator. Dammit, I really thought I was on to something for a moment. Eddie Nash, saviour of the world.¡±


    ¡°The world will be fine, Ed. Once we''re past the period of adjustment life will go on just as it always has.¡±


    ¡°But millions will die during the first perigee! Thousands more in the second! People will die every perigee from earthquakes and other disasters. I thought I could save them.¡±


    ¡°The first perigee would have happened anyway. Even if we could do it, we couldn''t have done it until the moon was back out there, at its proper distance.¡±


    Eddie nodded in frustration. ¡°Dammitl There has to be a way! We have this one opportunity to save the Earth from thousands of years of calamity. This one opportunity while the Moon is still mostly solid. There has to be a way!¡±


    ¡°Not one that I can think of. Come on, let''s see if your mass amplifier works. If it doesn''t, it doesn''t matter what way round the moon is facing.¡±


    Eddie nodded, but his enthusiasm for the idea had all but vanished. ¡°Why not?¡± he said.


    Frank gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, then gently guided him out of the room and towards the main laboratory.

 Chapter Twenty Two

    The Long March 22 completed its final burn, bringing it into orbit around the moon.


    The six astronauts on the Harmony Space Station, along with millions of people down on the planet below, stared in astonishment at the image being sent back by the spacecraft¡¯s camera. This close, the clouds shrouding the moon rushed past below like a torrent of muddy water from a bursting dam, lit almost continually from within by flashes of lightning. It looked as though some titanic battle was being fought on the unseen surface, with each flash being an artillery strike.


    ¡°Dear God!¡± said Susan, her eyes wide with fear. ¡°It must be hellish down there!¡±


    ¡°The temperature at the surface, at that location, is higher than the boiling point of water,¡± said Yu Han, watching another screen where columns of numbers were marching steadily downwards. ¡°Across the whole of the moon, it varies from fifteen hundred degrees Celsius at the magma ocean to minus one hundred degrees on the other side, where the sun has not yet risen. It would be colder, but the atmosphere is transferring heat across the surface. The difference in temperature is causing winds to blow across the moon faster than the speed of sound. About ten thousand lightning bolts are striking the surface of the moon every second...¡±


    ¡°Alright!¡± cried Susan, making the others stare at her in alarm. ¡°I get it!¡±


    She wiped a hand across her face and Paul saw that she was trembling. ¡°You okay?¡± he said, putting a hand on her arm.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, putting her own hand on his. ¡°I''m sorry,¡± she said to Yu. ¡°I didn''t mean to snap.¡±


    ¡°Think nothing of it,¡± said the Chinese woman, smiling.


    ¡°It¡¯s just that, I''m terrified of lightning,¡± said Susan. ¡°You must think that''s pretty funny...¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Paul. ¡°I''m scared of spiders, so I can''t laugh.¡±


    Susan smiled at him. ¡°Whenever there¡¯s a thunderstorm, I have to close the curtains and turn off everything electronic. I know there are ground wires and surge protectors that can handle any lightning strike. I know it up here...¡± She tapped her head.


    ¡°Well, all that lightning is seventy five thousand kilometres away,¡± said Paul. ¡°No matter where you are on Earth, there¡¯s always lightning striking somewhere a hundred times closer than that...¡±


    ¡°Not helping, Paul,¡± she said with a smile.


    ¡°Yes, sorry. Hey look! The clouds are thinning!¡±


    He pointed back at the screen, and they saw that the clouds were indeed growing ragged, with gaps appearing in it. A dull, red glow appeared, shining up from below, and then they were past the clouds, with a clear view of the lunar surface. Paul felt Susan¡¯s hand tightening on his and growing slippery with nervous perspiration.


    The surface was completely molten. Lava, so hot that it flowed like water with waves dozens of miles high blown across it by the supersonic wind. Spray was whipped up from the tops of those waves and blown high up into the air where it solidified into particles of solid stone moving with such speed that it would have pulverized any solid surface it encountered. There were no solid surfaces here, though. Nothing but blindingly bright lava on which small islands of semi solid rock would temporarily form, only to instantly sink and melt again.


    ¡°The winds are comparatively gentle there,¡± said Yu, speaking with a matter of fact voice that made Susan want to slap her. ¡°At the surface, the winds are converging from all directions and slowing. Then they''re heated by the molten rock and rise to begin the return journey to the moon''s cold, solid side.¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t look gentle to me,¡± said Benny, his wide eyes fixed on the screen. ¡°I was in a hurricane once, at sea. At the time, I thought nothing could compare to the violence of the ocean that day, but it was a millpond compared to that!¡±


    ¡°It seems to be dying down, though,¡± said Jayesh. ¡°Or perhaps it¡¯s my imagination...¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Yu. ¡°The rocket is approaching the centre of the magma ocean, where all the winds meet. One of only two places on the moon where the air is almost still. There, and the antipodes where the surface winds begin.¡±


    ¡°There must be one hell of a wind shear between high altitude hot air heading away from the ocean and low altitude cold air heading back towards it,¡± said Koshing. ¡°There must be a whole series of concentric horizontal vortices. If the atmosphere were transparent, the two opposing faces of the moon would look like dartboards. Circles around circles, and each circle a horizontal tornado eating its own tail. The pressure so low at the centre that it is almost a pure vacuum.¡±


    ¡°I''m sure this is absolutely fascinating to you,¡± said Susan, ¡°But all I see is a terrifying manifestation of the power of God. People mock him and deny him, but now we see the power He is capable of wielding when He so chooses. Who can look upon that and not tremble at the thought of earning His displeasure?¡±


    ¡°I wonder what terrible sin the moon people committed to earn that much displeasure?¡± said Paul with a smile.


    Susan shot him a look of venomous fury, but then apparently decided that it would be beneath her dignity to respond. She turned to Koshing again. ¡°When will your people turn the device on?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Soon,¡± said the engineer. ¡°They¡¯re probably doing the last minute checks right now.¡±


    Paul turned on his tablet and used it to listen to a BBC broadcast. The commentator was describing the same scene they were seeing on the viewscreen, for the benefit for anyone who wasn¡¯t able to see it for themselves. Paul imagined there must be some such people somewhere. Bush people in the Kalahari, perhaps, or some Amazonian tribe still living in their traditional way despite wearing shorts and tee shirts. His every other word was a superlative or an expression of astonishment spoken rapidly and with breathless excitement. Atmospheric scientists must be having a field day, he thought. Give it a few years and the moon would be surrounded by a whole flotilla of weather satellites studying the dynamics of the moon''s new atmosphere. That was if the human race avoided being thrown back to the stone age by the monthly cataclysms it would now be suffering if the Chinese device failed to work. Which it would. Because it couldn''t work! It just wasn''t possible!


    ¡°The Chinese seem pretty confident that it''ll work,¡± said Benny, and Paul realised he''d spoken aloud.


    ¡°I suppose they must have tested a prototype,¡± said Jayesh. He looked over at their two new Chinese companions.


    ¡°I suppose,¡± said Koshing. ¡°We know nothing about that, though. We were just told to fly it up here and build it. That¡¯s all we know...¡±


    He was interrupted by the voice of George Jefferson from ground control coming from the speaker. ¡°How you doing up there, guys?¡± he asked.


    ¡°A little scared,¡± admitted Paul. ¡°You looking at what we¡¯re looking at?¡±


    ¡°I think everyone is,¡± George replied. On the monitor, the ocean of lava was growing wild and turbulent again as the spacecraft left the doldrums and began passing over thundering winds again. On the horizon ahead, they could see the edge of the cloud cover that still covered most of the small world, flickering with lightning. ¡°I just called to let you know that the Chinese will be turning on their device at eighteen hundred hours UTC. Any time now, in other words. They''ll be turning it on and off every five minutes to stop the moon blowing itself apart. It''s possible you''ll feel some turbulence up there. The boffins tell me that you might actually be able to feel the moon''s gravity as it comes and goes.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the warning,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°We''ll be keeping an eye on you from down here, seeing if your orbit is affected. The Chinese say they may have to adjust the timing of their device as they observe what it does to the moon, so it¡¯s impossible to calculate your new orbit in advance. We''ll advise you if you have to make a course adjustment.¡±


    ¡°It''ll affect the Long March a lot more, won''t it? While the device is turned on, it won''t be in orbit around the moon.¡± Listen to me, he thought in astonishment. Talking as though such a thing is actually possible.


    ¡°The Chinese say they''ve taken that into account. And they¡¯ve still got enough fuel for course corrections, if it becomes necessary. Okay, brace yourselves. They''re turning it on in ten seconds. Sorry we couldn''t give you more warning, we¡®ve only just found out ourselves.¡±


    ¡°No worries, George.¡±


    Instinctively, they all reached out to grab hold of something, as if they were on a bus that was about to turn a sharp corner. Paul smiled. Even with the moon this close to the Earth, the gravity they were feeling from it was thousands of times less than the gravity they were feeling from the Earth. They weren''t going to be slammed against the walls or anything...


    Except that he did feel something, unless it was just his imagination as the digital clock on the wall showed six o¡¯clock. What was happening to the moon was definitely not his imagination, though. Beneath the spacecraft, the lava leapt upwards. Paul was reminded of the war films where a destroyer was depth charging a submarine, except that the entire ocean rose at once, all four million square kilometres of it. He turned to another screen that was showing a real time image of the moon as seen by one of the few remaining satellites still orbiting the Earth.


    It was visibly growing in size, but that was just the atmosphere ballooning outwards, he knew. As it rose it slowly lost its opacity, allowing them to see through it, and as the long minutes passed he found he could begin to see the old familiar features of the moon''s surface. The first time they''d been visible since the impact of the Scatter Cloud. Craters and maria gradually came into view on the side of the moon opposite the magma ocean as the atmosphere continued to lift and thin. Paul felt his heart lifting at the sight of them, as if some long, terrible nightmare was finally coming to an end. On the other side of the moon, though, the lava flared a brilliant, incandescent white and streamers of material leapt upwards, out into space...This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    And then it stopped. The streamers faltered, then began to fall again. The ocean flared even brighter as material that had risen above it fell back down. The atmosphere thickened and condensed again, once again hiding the surface from sight. A few minutes later the moon was as it had been before, the weather patterns they''d been commenting upon a few minutes before reasserting themselves before the Chinese turned their device on again and the whole thing repeated itself.


    Paul became aware of a sharp pain on his arm. He looked and saw Susan''s hand clamped upon it so tightly that her fingers were white. ¡°It works,¡± she whispered, her face pale with what looked like shock and despair. ¡°It works.¡±


    He misunderstood at first. ¡°Yeah! Who''d have believed it? The thing actually works!¡± He looked over to where Yu and Koshing were beaming with delight. ¡°It actually works! Your scientists actually did it!¡±


    ¡°You should not underestimate Chinese science,¡± said Koshing, grinning broadly.


    ¡°I never will again. Fantastic, eh, Susan?¡± He looked back at her, and found her staring blankly back at him. She looked like a survivor of a tragedy. Someone who¡¯d seen dozens of people dying around her. ¡°Susan? You okay?¡±


    ¡°It works,¡± she said again.


    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s good, isn''t it?¡±


    She stared at him for a few moments longer, then blinked and shook her head as if to drive out the memory of a nightmare. ¡°Yes, yes of course. Of course it¡¯s good.¡± She tried to smile at him, but it only deepened his worries.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Susan? What is it?¡±


    ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong. This is wonderful. So many lives will be saved.¡±


    ¡°Yes, they will. There''ll still be earthquakes and flooding, of course. They can''t leave the device turned on for too long at a time, but the impact, the damage down on Earth will be far less than it would have been. It''s a tremendous achievement!¡±


    ¡°Such power,¡± said Benny breathlessly. The others had been too enraptured by the images on the monitors to notice what was happening between Paul and Susan, but Benny¡¯s words made Paul look at Susan again, thinking he now understood. Yes, of course. The power to do this to a whole world. That was what had terrified Susan. Who wouldn''t be terrified by such a demonstration of power? Paul was trembling with awe himself!


    ¡°Such power,¡± said Benny again. ¡°In the hands of the Chinese.¡±


    The two engineers mmediately turned to look at him. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± asked Koshing.


    Benny seemed surprised to find that he¡¯d spoken out loud.¡± Er, nothing,¡± he said. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean anything by it.¡± He fixed his attention on the monitor, where the magma ocean was erupting again as the operator down in China turned the device on again. After a couple of moments he looked back at the Chinese crew members to find Yu''s dark eyes still fixed on his, staring with a disturbing intensity. ¡°I''m sorry!¡± he said. ¡°I didn''t mean anything by it. Honestly!¡± She looked at him for a few moments longer, then turned away.


    Susan reached out to a handhold to turn herself around, then kicked herself off towards the hatch. ¡°Where are you going?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°I''m feeling a little tired,¡± she replied. ¡°I just want to lie down for a while.¡± She pushed herself off and swam through the hatch.


    ¡°We all have duties we should be getting on with,¡± said Jayesh, turning to follow after her. ¡°Can¡¯t sit here staring at the show all day.¡±


    Benny also turned to leave, feeling an urgent need to distance himself from the Chinese for a while, but Paul, Yu and Koshing remained where they were, watching as the moon continued to beat like a titanic heart as it swept down towards the Earth.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± said Ben in astonishment. ¡°It''s actually working!¡±


    The Wetherby team, including a number of junior researchers but minus Eddie and Frank, were watching the BBC''s coverage of the moon on the large screen in the common room. The commentator was almost having fits of jubilation as he described what was happening to the Earth¡¯s natural satellite, with experts sitting in a studio giving their own interpretation of events. Occasionally, the coverage would switch to a reporter standing in a street pointing to the wet, sandy tarmac under his feet and explaining how it had been under water just minutes before. All around the world, high tides were subsiding to levels that were still high enough to breach sea defences but nowhere as high as they had been before. Elsewhere, large areas of seabed that had been left high and dry were being inundated again as the seas flowed back. One reporter, flying over the Atlantic in a light aircraft, was pointing down to the wreck of a German U-boat half buried in the mud off the coast of Newfoundland. Water was swirling around it. The wreck would be under water again within mere minutes.


    ¡°All that power, flowing through the mass dampener,¡± said James breathlessly. ¡°And it¡¯s taking it! Vastly, incomprehensibly more power than it was ever designed to take, and it¡¯s taking it!¡±


    ¡°Well, we don''t know how much power it was designed to take,¡± pointed out Alice. ¡°For all we know, it¡¯s an off the shelf component that was originally designed to move planets around. The spaceship might have been feeding it only a tiny fraction of the power it was designed to take. Maybe the wonder isn''t that it can take so much power but that it could function while taking so little.¡±


    ¡°But was it designed to be turned on and off again so frequently?¡± asked Ben. ¡°With human tech, the turning it on is usually when it¡¯s taking the most stress.¡±


    ¡°If it really was designed to move planets around, then it would have to be repeatedly turned on and off,¡± said Alice. ¡°To stop the planet from blowing itself apart. It would have been designed to cope.¡±


    ¡°If that was what it was designed for,¡± said Karen.


    ¡°What worries me,¡± said Ben, ¡°is that every time they turn it off and everything falls back down, it¡¯s adding a tremendous amount of energy to the moon. They''ll make it melt faster.¡±


    ¡°Does that matter?¡± asked Alice. ¡°Who cares if it melts?¡±


    ¡°Because if the Chinese keep using the mass dampener, the moon will keep heating up. Eventually it will completely vaporize.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re being a bit dramatic...¡± began Alice.


    ¡°Am I? If you keep adding energy, what happens? Eventually the moon will vaporize. It''s a mathematical certainty. Eventually it will have enough energy that its gravity won''t be enough to hold it together even when the device is turned off. The moon will just puff apart.¡±


    ¡°Well, that would be one solution to the problem...¡±


    ¡°No, it wouldn''t. It would be the beginning of the end. When the vapour puffs out into a large enough volume, it''ll be too big for the mass dampener to affect all of it, no matter how much energy they pump into it. And then the vapour will cool and recondense. Not just into one moon but thousands of them. All jostling each other with their gravity. Some will be flung out into the solar system, and others...¡±


    ¡°Will fall down to Earth,¡± said Jessica, her eyes widening with fear. ¡°How big would they be?¡±


    ¡°At first, just dust and gravel,¡± said Ben, ¡°But as the process of accretion continues there could be rocks miles across coming down. Each one a dinosaur killer. Eventually there could be rocks falling large enough to completely sterilize the planet.¡±


    ¡°No! No! That can¡¯t be!¡± said Alice, though. ¡°If that were so, one of them would have said so.¡± She pointed to the scientific experts sitting in the television studio, chatting amiably to the host of the TV show. ¡°Look at them. They¡¯re not worried.¡±


    ¡°They probably just haven''t thought it through yet,¡± said Ben. ¡°They will, though, and when they do there''ll be an international outcry. A demand for the Chinese to stop what they¡¯re doing. Maybe the Chinese will figure it out first. Maybe they¡¯ll stop all by themselves.¡±


    ¡°You have to tell someone,¡± said Jessica. ¡°The Americans. They''d love a chance to make the Chinese look bad.¡±


    ¡°I would hope that that wouldn''t be their primary motive,¡± said Ben. ¡°But you¡¯re right, I have to tell people.¡± He reached into a pocket and pulled out his phone.


    At that moment, Eddie and Frank burst in, looking excited. ¡°We have an announcement,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°You''re getting married?¡± said Alice, grinning. ¡°Congratulations!¡±


    Eddie gave her a look of annoyance. ¡°Seriously,¡± he said. ¡°We''ve figured out a way to...¡± His words were rapid and blurred together in his excitement. He made an effort to speak slowly and clearly. ¡°We''ve figured out a way to reverse the effect of the mass dampener. We can make it increase mass, not just lower it.¡±


    ¡°It works,¡± added Frank. ¡°We''ve just tried it. It was Eddie''s idea. God knows how he thought of it...¡±


    ¡°It just came to me,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Right out of the blue. I figured out that if we fed the polarised phonons into the superfluid lens at an angle corresponding to the ancillary index...¡±


    ¡°Okay, slow down, slow down,¡± said Jessica. ¡°We''re not all physicists. I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about. It works, you say?¡±


    ¡°It works,¡± said Frank, staring at her in delight. ¡°We raised the mass of a ten kilogram weight to over twenty kilograms. The area of effect for the amount of energy you put in seems to be about the same...¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± said Ben, though. ¡°You could only reduce mass by seventy six percent. You can increase it by over two hundred?¡±


    ¡°There seems to be no limit to how much you can increase an object¡¯s mass,¡± said Eddie. ¡°And that¡¯s important. Our prototype can, in theory, completely cancel out the effects of the original alien mass dampener.¡±


    ¡°Why is that important?¡± asked Alice.


    ¡°Because it means we can move the moon back to its original orbit.¡±


    ¡°No, we can¡¯t,¡± said Frank, though. ¡°We talked about this, remember? When the moon returns to its original distance from the Earth, the magma ocean will be on its trailing side. There¡¯ll be no solid surface we can land and push on.¡±


    Eddie just grinned wider, though. ¡°So we don''t push,¡± he said. ¡°We pull. We land our rocket on the leading hemisphere, attach it to the moon with a stout chain and pull.¡±


    ¡°And how do we get our rocket to the moon? If we¡¯re really, really lucky there might be a rocket sitting on a launch pad somewhere that can get a man up into space, but only to earth orbit. You¡¯d need a lot more fuel to get him to the moon. That would take a special mission that would take years to prepare. We''ve got a few days before the moon melts completely, turns into a globe of molten rock. It can''t be done.¡±


    ¡°There has to be a way! There''s all kinds of stuff up in space already. The space station itself, two shuttles...¡±


    ¡°The shuttles only have enough fuel to de-orbit and return to Earth.¡±


    ¡°The space station has engines big enough to adjust its orbit, prevent it falling back to Earth. If one of those engines were to be attached to one of the shuttles, I''m sure it would have more than enough thrust to get it to the moon. The space station has an entire machine shop up there. I''m sure they could cobble something together.¡±


    Ben stared at him as though he were mad. He looked for a moment as though he was about to say something scathing and sarcastic, but he held himself in check and made himself be more diplomatic. ¡°In your excitement at your extraordinary achievement, you''ve overlooked the obvious,¡± he said. ¡°The exhaust from your rocket would hit the moon¡¯s surface. The momentum it gives the rocket would be exactly balanced by the momentum it gives to the moon. The rocket, moon system will go nowhere.¡±


    Eddie was already grinning so widely that it didn''t seem possible for it to grow any wider, but somehow he managed it. ¡°With respect, old man, you¡¯re the one who''s overlooked something. We make the mass amplification field just big enough to surround the rocket, without touching any part of the moon. That way...¡±


    The exhaust will have mass when it leaves the rocket,¡± said Ben, looking abashed. ¡°When it hits the moon, though, it will be massless, or virtually so. It will give momentum to the rocket, but not to the moon!¡±


    ¡°No, no, wait a minute,¡± said Frank, though. ¡°You could use that to create a reactionless drive. A spaceship that accelerates without losing any reaction mass. You could create a similar set up entirely within the outer skin of a spaceship. Collect the massless exhaust and recycle it when it has mass again.¡± He stared around at the others, and they stared back at him. ¡°Reactionless drives are impossible!¡±


    ¡°It would appear not,¡± said Ben, though. ¡°By manipulating mass, we can colonise the solar system. Maybe even create true starships, capable of crossing interstellar distances. Once you can lift unlimited masses from the ground into orbit, building a hundred thousand ton starship should be no harder than building an ocean liner.¡±


    ¡°We''d need to know exactly where on the moon to attach the chain,¡± said Alice.


    ¡°As close to the centre of the forward facing hemisphere as possible,¡± said Ben.


    ¡°Yes, but that still leaves us plenty of choice. You could probably attach your chain anywhere within a region a hundred kilometres across. We need to be able to choose a spot relatively free from earthquakes, where the crust is still firm enough to make a good anchoring point, free from fault lines. You don''t want to attach your chain to a lump of rock that just pulls out of the ground. You need to know that it''s firmly attached to the entire moon.¡±


    Ben nodded. ¡°It seems we''re going to need a moon expert,¡± he said.

 Chapter Twenty Three

    There was no school that day. Perigee day. The day the moon made its closest approach to the Earth. Samantha allowed Lily to have a lie in, but she herself was too full of nervous energy to stay in bed. She rose, therefore, showered, got dressed and went downstairs to get herself some breakfast. The television turned itself on as she went down the stairs. The man on the news channel was still talking about the moon, of course. It seemed there was nothing else happening in the world right now. All human civilisation was holding its breath as It waited to see what the moon would do to the world.


    There was another science expert in the television studio with the host, trying to make educated guesses about how the Chinese mass dampener could possibly work. Samantha didn''t bother trying to follow what he was saying. She knew it would be completely beyond her ability to understand. She was, or had been, as astronomer, not a physicist, and so she went to the window instead to look at the sunrise.


    It appeared at first to be a completely normal morning. The sun was there, right where it was supposed to be. Just appearing above the roofs of the other houses in her street. The sky was a cold, icy blue, almost cloudless, but there was something up above that was no cloud. She couldn¡¯t see it very well from inside the house, and so she opened the door to the conservatory and went out to see it through the glass roof.


    It was cold in the conservatory, so she closed the door behind her to keep the air from chilling the whole house. Then she looked up. Most of the snow that had covered the conservatory''s glass roof had melted enough for it to slip off and fall to the ground, giving her an unobstructed view upwards. The moon was there, just as she had known it would be. Impossibly huge, over three times its normal size. It would be there all day, almost directly overhead as the rotation of the Earth followed its passage above. The sun would rise and set, it would pass behind the moon an hour or so after midday and then it would set again while the moon remained fixed in place.


    It was hanging above the world as if suspended by a thread like the Sword of Damocles. Its fat crescent shape even made it look a little like a sword, and the resemblance would grow as the sun moved towards it and the crescent thinned. It was almost completely circled by a golden halo where the sunlight was scattered by its atmosphere. That halo would grow as the crescent thinned, she knew, until the two narrow horns of light on its dark side met to form a complete halo of fire surrounding a circle of darkness. Night would fall as the sun was temporarily hidden, and it would be several minutes before it reappeared on the moon''s other side.


    It was a breathtaking sight, awesome and wonderful and terrifying all at the same time. As she watched, the fiery atmosphere expanded outward as the Chinese device nullified the moon''s mass, and geysers fountained upwards as magma, just below the surface, found itself no longer constrained by the moon''s gravity. She stared at it as if hypnotised, as if she were watching all the angels of God singing above her. She stared until she saw the golden halo thinning and contracting again, saw the geysers of molten rock stopping as if someone had turned off a tap. The Chinese had turned off their device for another five minutes, to give the moon a chance to recover before they turned it back on again.


    She suddenly felt a wave of fear sweeping over her and went back into the main part of the house. She didn¡¯t want that hideous, swollen moon glaring down at her. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to feel that her daughter was safe. The moon was a reminder that unknown forces could sweep away the familiar, comfortable world they lived in at any moment and she was nowhere ready to face up to that right now. She wanted to hide from it. To go back to bed, pull the covers up over her head and pretend that it wasn¡¯t happening, that everything was still the way it used to be.


    She felt lonely and scared, and suddenly found herself craving the company of another human being, even if it was her daughter, the person she was supposed to be giving comfort to, not taking it from. She went to the base of the stairs. ¡°Lily!¡± she called. ¡°Come on! Time to be up!¡± A mumbled noise came drifting back down, telling her that her daughter was awake, at least, if not quite ready to face the world yet. Samantha knew exactly how she felt.


    Something to eat would calm her down, she thought, so she went into the kitchen to get herself some muesli. She changed channel while she ate, wanting to think about something other than the moon for little while. She found an old episode of a comedy show and watched it as she spooned the cereal into her mouth. Then she went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. The comedy programme followed her onto the kitchen television, and then back into the living room as she took the steaming cup back in.


    After several minutes, though, she felt compelled to turn back to the news channel. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. There were momentous things happening in the world. Terrible, disastrous things, it was true, but momentous all the same and she felt the need to keep in touch. As soon as she changed channel, though, it was obvious that something had changed. The tone of the voices coming from the television was different. They suddenly sounded worried, uncertain. She sat forward in her chair in sudden anxiety.


    ¡°...can¡¯t be certain what''s gone wrong yet,¡± the science expert was saying, a hand to his ear as if he was listening to someone over an invisible earpiece. There was a message scrolling across the bottom of the screen, though. Chinese Lunar Rescue mission in trouble. ¡°We don''t yet know if this is just a temporary glitch or something more serious. For those just tuning in, the Chinese mass dampener device has stopped working. We are getting reports from all over the country, and from all over the world, that waters are rising all the way to the expected twenty metre mark. Anyone who remained in their homes, thinking the Chinese device would make it safe to stay, are urged to evacuate as soon as possible.¡±


    They were safe, Samantha told herself. Their house was well out of the danger area. They had plenty of food, plenty of power. They were almost alone, though. Almost everyone else in their street had gone, and in most of the surrounding streets as well. They might be the only two human beings left within half a mile. She realised that her heart was pounding, and her whole body trembling with nervous fear. She suddenly needed to see for herself that her daughter was safe, and so she ran up the stairs and threw open the bedroom door without knocking.


    The only part of her daughter visible was a tangle of black hair on the pillow. Then a pale face looked up at the sound of the door opening. ¡°Mummy?¡±


    Samantha threw back the bedsheets and picked her up, hugging her to her chest. The familiar softness of her skin under the pyjamas and the smell of her hair made her feel much better immediately. She put her nose to Lilly¡¯s hair and breathed in deeply, feeling it restoring her calmness and self control. The little girl squirmed in her arms. ¡°What is it, Mummy? What''s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong, Baby,¡± she said, forcing herself to lay the girl back down on the bed. ¡°Mommy¡¯s just being silly.¡± She smoothed Lilly¡¯s hair down, then held her hands in both of hers. She suddenly found herself taking delight in every smallest feature of the little girl''s body. The tendons in her neck, her tiny fingernails. Her tiny little button nose. Her fingers drank in the feel of Lilly¡¯s soft little hands like a parched desert soaking up water. She never wanted to let her go.


    ¡°Time to get up now, Sweetheart,¡± she said, forcing herself to let go of her daughter''s hands and backing away to the door. ¡°Are you getting up now, sugarpie?¡±


    ¡°Okay, Mummy.¡± Lily was staring at her in alarm, and Samantha smiled to reassure her. ¡°Is everything all right?¡±


    ¡°Everything¡¯s fine. See you downstairs in a minute.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Mummy.¡± Samantha smiled again, left and closed the door behind her.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°The Chinese device has stopped working,¡± said Richard Lewis, joining the others in the common room.


    ¡°Stopped working?¡± said Cathy, looking up. She, Margaret, Hazel and Len were sitting in the comfy armchairs along with some of the other residents of the housing block. One of them, she¡¯d been delighted to find, was an old school friend, Rebecca Golding. She was there with her wife Lynne and their one year old toddlers. They''d both been inseminated at the same time and had themselves induced on the same day to make their children, Samuel and Sarah, twins. They''d been swapping baby stories when Richard came in.


    ¡°They''re not sure if the device itself has broken down or if it''s a communication problem,¡± Richard said as he took the seat next to his wife. ¡°Whatever it is, though, it seems the tides will be just as high as they always said they would be.¡±


    ¡°Our house is fourteen metres above sea level,¡± said Rebecca to Cathy, looking worried. ¡°We were hoping it would escape the floods.¡±


    ¡°It''s just bricks and mortar,¡± her wife said, reaching out to take her hand. ¡°Everything important is right here.¡± She pointed to their two children, crawling around on the floor, playing with squeaky toys.


    ¡°You''re right,¡± said Lynne, squeezing her hand back. ¡°And it''s all insured.¡±


    ¡°I''m not sure we can count on insurance payouts,¡± said Len, though. ¡°Half the country will be claiming at the same time. There''s no way they can cover it. They''ll almost certainly declare that damage caused by the moon isn''t covered.¡±


    ¡°We specifically made sure that flooding is covered by our policy,¡± said Lynne, though. ¡°We live close to a river. The town''s flooded before so we made sure.¡±


    ¡°Flooding caused by rainfall, maybe,¡± said Len, ¡°But not this. Not because they''re evil and want to cheat you but because they just can''t. They just don''t have the money.¡±


    ¡°He''s right,¡± said Richard. ¡°There won''t be any insurance.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯ve put everything into it! All our savings... We just spent fifty thousand on an extension for a bedroom for the kids!¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t matter,¡± said Rebecca, giving her hand another squeeze. ¡°Like I said, everything that matters is right here.¡±


    Lynne nodded glumly and looked down at the children, who seemed to be wrestling each other. The girl was winning and was sitting on the boy''s chest. The boy didn''t seem to mind, though, and was sucking on the girl¡¯s tee shirt.


    Across the room from them, two elderly men laughed together at something one of them had just said. A couple of seats away from them, an elderly woman was sitting by herself looking lonely. Helen was sitting next to her, trying to keep her company. There were two dozen other families currently staying in this housing block, but they hadn¡¯t seen any sign of them yet except for the occasional glimpse and a word of hello as they passed one or another of them in the corridor. They seemed content to stay in their own apartments. Strange, thought Cathy as she shifted Timmy in her arms. You''d think they¡¯d treat it as an unexpected holiday, and one of the best parts of a holiday was meeting new people.


    ¡°So what will the a Chinese do?¡± asked Len. ¡°Can they fix it?¡±


    ¡°The bloke on the telly said they were sending it different commands to try to wake it up,¡± said Richard, ¡°but he didn''t sound optimistic. This is brand new technology, he said. Cutting edge stuff. It¡¯s only to be expected that there are problems with it. Give it twenty years to work the bugs out and it''ll be fine, but until then...¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°The moon forced them to try a new invention before it was really ready,¡± said Len. ¡°They probably knew it wouldn¡¯t work but thought it worth a try nonetheless. Gotta respect them for that, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°I wonder if Dad will be involved? He''s up there right now, and they''ve got a shuttle. Maybe they¡¯ll be asked to fly over to the Long March and try to fix it.¡±


    ¡°Do they know enough about it to diagnose a fault and fix it?¡±


    ¡°The Chinamen might. Maybe they just need someone to pilot the shuttle.¡±


    ¡°Can your dad pilot a shuttle? I thought Benny was the pilot.¡±


    ¡°Then maybe he''ll pilot them over there.¡± He looked up at the ceiling. ¡°The moon must be pretty much at its closest by now.¡±


    Richard went over to the big double doors that led out into the small garden and struggled with the bolts until he got one of them open. A breath of cold air came wafting in. The garden was overgrown and unkempt but Richard didn¡¯t care about the plants. He was looking upwards and the others heard him gasp with amazement at what he saw. Len went out to join him, and the two elderly gentlemen followed. ¡°Bloody hell!¡± one of them said. ¡°Now that''s a sight and a half!¡±


    ¡°It sure is,¡± said Richard. ¡°Come take a look at this, Cath.¡±


    ¡°I''ve seen it,¡± she replied. ¡°I don''t want to see it again.¡±


    ¡°It''s awesome! It''s like... Like...¡±


    ¡°I know what it''s like. I went out on the balcony and saw it.¡±


    ¡°What about you, Mum?¡±


    Margaret also declined the offer, and Cathy saw that there was fear on her face, as there must have been on her own. This wasn''t like the northern lights or a meteor shower, she realised. This object hanging in the sky above them was going to kill a lot of people. Probably had already. Also, it was too cold to be leaving an external door open. Richard evidently felt the same way as he and Len came back in again, leaving the two elderly men to continue staring up at the moon, muttering awed comments to each other.


    ¡°Anywhere close to a fault line must be having earthquakes by now,¡± said Richard. ¡°California, Japan, South America...¡± He fished his phone out of his pocket and brought up a news app.


    ¡°No, please don''t!¡± said Cathy. ¡°Isn''t it bad enough that these things are happening without us seeing it as mere entertainment?¡±


    ¡°Of course it''s not entertainment,¡± her husband replied. ¡°I just want to keep in touch. If I''m going to protect you and Timmy I need to know what''s going on.¡± A voice came from the phone. A man''s agitated, alarmed voice reading a list of places. Cathy stared at him, though, her eyes pleading, and Richard stared back. Then, reluctantly, he turned the phone off and put it back in his pocket. Cathy beamed gratefully at him.


    From outside came the sound of aircraft engines warming up. Something big. Aircraft had been taking off and landing almost continually since their arrival. Richard had speculated that they were transporting relief supplies to the refugee camps, while Len had wondered whether they were carrying goods across the channel until sea travel became possible once more. Most things could wait a few days until the moon had passed on and the seas settled down, but there were some things, medicines for example, that had a very limited shelf life and had to be gotten from the factories that made them to the people who needed them very quickly.


    Timmy began crying and Cathy checked him to see if he needed changing. He didn''t, which meant he probably wanted feeding. She looked into the small handbag she''d brought with her and cursed quietly. ¡°I left his bottle upstairs,¡± She said. She''d expressed some milk for him that morning and left it in the cooler.


    ¡°I''ll go get it,¡± said Richard.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t worry.¡± She looked at the two elderly gentlemen, visible through the windows in the doors, and wondered if they¡¯d be offended. Bugger them if they are, she decided. She undid the buttons of her blouse, took out a breast and lifted the baby until he latched on to it. Rebecca and Lynne looked across, smiling, then returned to their own conversation. Cathy rocked him a little as he sucked contentedly.


    We are so lucky, she thought as Richard and Len started talking about aircraft. The refugee camps are still only half built. They''re trying to house and feed thousands of people displaced from the coast and they''re still trying to find enough tents for them all. Many of them are probably sleeping in their cars. We, on the other hand, have comfy apartments with guaranteed supplies of food and water and armed guards to make sure looters don''t try to take what we¡¯ve got. And all because Paul got picked to be an astronaut.


    She wondered where they¡¯d be now if her father-in-law hadn¡¯t been so lucky. Probably huddled in one of those camps, she thought. Wondering whether the authorities would be able to find enough food to feed them all. When a consignment of food did come in, there would probably be an undignified scramble as fathers tried to get some for their families. The soldiers would have to threaten them with force to keep order. We, on the other hand, can just get what we need from the food and supply depot.


    She beamed with delight that everyone she loved was safe and gave thanks once again for the extraordinary stroke of luck that had made it possible. In her arms, little Timothy continued to suck and gurgle happily while, outside, the sound of aircraft engines got louder as something prepared to take off.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    If Paul Lewis had happened to be looking out through a window in the space station as it passed overhead, the world he saw would scarcely have been recognisable. Huge areas of eastern England and western Europe were under water. Lincolnshire had been turned into an island, completely cut off from the mainland. Cambridgeshire was almost entirely under water, as was Huntingdonshire, Rutland and Nottinghamshire. Cambridge, Peterborough and Kings Lynne were flooded, and water surged through the Humber Valley to flood vast tracks of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire and South Yorkshire.


    On the west coast, sea water gushed into the Mersey, Dee and Severn valleys, flooding tracts of land five kilometres wide, while on the south coast Portsmouth and Southampton were under water. Even where the waters failed to penetrate inland, the lower parts of coastal towns and cities were swept away as waves crashed against buildings that had never been designed to take that kind of punishment.


    In the south east, the Thames Estuary now stretched from Canterbury to Brightlingsea and the river was five kilometres wide as far inland as Windsor. Water flecked with salty foam lapped against the walls of Windsor Castle, and Eton College found itself on the waterside. A few miles further east, Westminster was entirely flooded, and waves lapped against the tallest buildings, including the clock tower of Big Ben, as if they were sandcastles about to be carried away by the rising tide.


    Across the Irish sea, most of the island of Ireland was protected by steeply rising coastlines so that only coastal towns were flooded, but the Atlantic gushed into the Galway, Limerick and Conn valleys, poisoning the sweet waters of the south eastern lakes with briny salt. In the north, Londonderry and Belfast were flooded, and floodwaters gushed along the Bann Valley towards Laugh Neagh. Ireland''s largest lake was saved from salt poisoning, though, by the ridge of high land on which the Portglenone forest stood, and locals stood, staring in astonishment as the clear, blue waters of the Lower River Bann met the frothing, foaming floodwaters and stopped them in their tracks.


    Across the English Channel, the west coast of Europe suffered the worst flooding of all. The Netherlands were almost completely flooded. Virtually the entire population of the country had been forced to flee, east to Germany or south to France. Four frigates and four coastal patrol craft were cruising back and forth across the flooded country, watching out for opportunistic divers out to take advantage of the crisis to loot the country''s national treasures. Only the most reckless of thieves would have dared to try, though, as the waters were surging across the country with deadly speed and the ships were forced to run their engines at maximum to avoid being run aground.


    The Mediterranean was spared a disaster on a similar scale. It just wasn¡¯t a large enough body of water to experience tides. Montpellier suffered some flooding, but only experienced a sea level rise of around five metres. Still disastrously high compared to what had been known before, but nothing compared to what the Atlantic coast was experiencing. Cherbourg, as well as being half flooded, was cut off from the rest of France as a long, narrow tongue of floodwater turned the peninsula into a temporary island. Seawater poured inland along every river, vastly swelling them in size and inundating towns and villages up to a hundred kilometres from the coast. The worst damage suffered by France was south of Brittany, around the Bay of Biscay, though. The cities of La Rochelle, Rochefort, the Olonne region and the entire Ile de Oleron disappeared beneath the waves, and only half of the city of Bordeaux was left high and dry.


    Spain and Portugal were only marginally affected, as the land rose rapidly from the coast, but a torrent of sea water gushed in along the river Tagus to flood an area a hundred kilometres long and twenty wide. So violent was the inundation that those parts of Lisbon too close to the river were not just flooded. They were totally destroyed, swept away by the wildly rushing waters.


    The European countries were wealthy, though, and had the resources to cope with these disasters. The first time around, anyway, although repeated flooding over the years to come would gradually empty their coffers. The countries of the west coast of Africa were already virtually penniless, though, and particularly the countries between Mauritania and Sierra Leone, where the flooding was worst and which also had the misfortune to be suffering stormy weather. The governments of those countries had done what they could to warn their people, but many of them hadn''t believed the warnings and had stayed in their homes, only leaving at last as the waters actually began to pour inland. It hadn''t been a gentle rising of the waters, as the rising of the tide usually was. It was more like a tsunami, with the waters rising with terrifying speed and irresistible force and raised up into giant, crashing waves by the wind. The people of the coastal towns and cities fled before it. A panicked stampede in which many were killed in the rush or in the collapse of buildings totally incapable of withstanding the onslaught.


    The almost penniless governments were unable to house and feed these people, and so they were left huddling miserably in crowds in the higher cities and townships, scrounging for food wherever they could and frequently driven to theft in their desperation to feed their families. The governments were driven to extreme measures to maintain law and order, and hundreds were shot on the spot or rounded up and placed in fenced enclosures with no food, no sanitary facilities and no healthcare. The refugees, who in some of the smaller river countries formed the bulk of the population, rebelled and fought back. In Liberia the fragile government collapsed completely, and Sierra Leone survived only by such a use of force that it led to hundreds of prosecutions of police and army officers in the weeks and months that followed.


    The people living on the other side of the Atlantic weren''t as badly affected this time around. The seas in their part of the world were only rising between five and ten metres, although that was still enough to turn Miami into a forest of tall buildings rising from the waters and make the Everglades entirely disappear. The rest of the east coast was turned into an archipelago of small islands for up to fifty kilometres inland as the seas poured in. Norfolk and Virginia beach were flooded. So was half of the city of Philadelphia. In New York, Long Beach, Kennedy Airport and East Rockaway were flooded, and so was a ten kilometre wide stretch straddling the Hackensack River. Liberty Island disappeared beneath the waves, but Lady Liberty watched it all with stoic indifference from atop her high plinth while she waited for the waters to subside again.


    A tidal bore rushed inland along the Potomac, its momentum carrying it even further inland when it reached the centre of Washington. Waves washed against the walls of the Capitol building and even the White House itself, but then they withdrew, doing no more damage than to leave sand and seaweed high and dry on the perfectly maintained grass lawns. They wouldn¡¯t be so lucky in twenty nine days time, though. The next time the moon passed by, it would be directly overhead during perigee and the American east coast would suffer the full twenty metres of flooding.


    The American west coast suffered no flooding at all this time around, although its time was forecast to come during some future perigee. It did suffer earthquakes, though, along with many other places located on fault lines across the world. Los Angeles suffered the long awaited ¡®Big One¡¯, but rode it out with comparatively little damage. The city had been preparing for it for decades, and virtually every building was designed to cope. Roads and bridges were damaged, though, and gas mains burst, causing disruption to the city''s business costing billions even though there was almost no loss of life. If the earthquake had been an isolated event the city might have moved on from it and forgotten it fairly quickly, but another big earthquake was expected to strike the next time the moon passed by, and again and again every twenty nine days, forever. Even the superbly earthquake resistant buildings of Los Angeles would eventually collapse under that kind of continual assault, and the American government was already making plans for the permanent evacuation of the entire west coast.


    To add to the injury, the United States suffered no fewer than twenty volcanic eruptions that day, the most serious being Mount Kilauea in Hawaii. Mount St Helens also erupted, along with Washington¡¯s Mount and Mount Rainier. Clouds of ash and smoke rose to blanket the country, and other volcanoes around the world followed suit to create the most intensive and extensive bout of volcanic activity in human history. Over the weeks and months to come, the ash and smoke would spread to cover the whole world, blocking out enough sunlight to plunge the world into a volcanic winter that would last several years. The centres of every continent would be frozen and snowbound, to the horror of the people living there who were currently congratulating themselves on being safely far away from the flooding.


    Off the coast of Denmark, a massive undersea earthquake lifted an area of sea bed a hundred kilometres long by thirty kilometres wide. People all across England and Scandinavia felt the tremble, but they thought nothing of it. They, along with everyone around the world, had been feeling similar tremors all day long as the moon pulled mercilessly on the Earth¡¯s crust. This one was different, though. The rising of the sea bed displaced enough water to cause a tsunami over fifty metres high that raced across the North Sea towards the already flooded east coast of England...

 Chapter Twenty Four

    ¡°I''m told the mass dampener burned out,¡± said the voice of Richard Garrison, the Prime Minister from the speaker of the ancient longwave radio.


    Almost all communications with London were down as the floodwaters took mobile phone towers and internet hubs out of service. The government was reduced to using long obsolete technology to communicate with the rest of the world. It was crackly with static, but it worked. ¡°They don''t know whether it was the amount of energy they were putting through it or the number of times they turned it on and off, but whatever it was, the device couldn¡¯t handle it.¡±


    ¡°But it lasted for eight hours,¡± Ben Wrexham replied. ¡°That''s plenty of time to push the moon back into its original orbit. If we can persuade the Americans to hand back the device we gave them, and if the astronauts on the space station can rig up something that''ll take one of the shuttles to the moon...¡±


    ¡°I''ve already spoken to President Clement about the mass dampener,¡± the Prime Minister replied. ¡°I told him what you have planned. I''ve told him that my best people believe it''s possible, that the moon''s twenty nine day cycle of destruction can be ended. The fact that the United States came off comparatively lightly this time around isn''t helping, I¡¯m afraid. Even after seeing what''s happening to Europe, it''s just too big for them to get their heads around. To them, it''s just images on a television screen..."  There was a burst of static from the speaker. "Then there''s the military," the Prime Minister continued. "The mass dampener is a colossal military asset. They''re not going to want to let it out of American hands."


    "You could mention my name. Remind him that I am an American. That an American is in charge of the research project that is investigating the alien space ship.¡±


    "I''ve already done that. I think it''s helping. What''s helping even more is that there is an American up on Harmony. Susan Kendall. I''ve suggested that she can be in charge of the device while it''s in space. The trouble is that her area of expertise is completely wrong. Something to do with helium crystals, I believe. Could she be coached in the use of the device? I assume she must be quite bright to have gotten a place on the space program.¡±


    ¡°If there''s no other way then I suppose we might have to try it, but I would far prefer someone with actual experience in the use of the device. The trouble is that the original, alien mass dampener isn''t enough by itself. We need a second device to cancel out the affect of the first so that the rocket thrust can effectively move the moon, and that second device is home made. Something that we¡¯ve made ourselves. If there¡¯s a problem with it, only one of our people would have a chance of fixing it.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I remember you saying in your original proposal. You¡¯d want one of your people to go up into space with it, then?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Preferably Frank Williams. He''s the man who reverse engineered the mass dampener and made it possible to create a working, man made version.¡±


    ¡°Has someone got a rocket on the launch pad, then? It''s my understanding that it takes weeks, months even, to plan a launch. We were lucky that the Chinese just happened to have a rocket ready to go. It would be incredible good fortune if there was another.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir. There are no rockets rated to carry humans ready to launch, but it might be possible to...¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry, I have another call coming in.¡± Ben waited in growing frustration as nothing but static came from the speaker. He glanced over at Karen, standing nearby, who just shrugged helplessly. Finally, though, the voice of the Prime Minister returned. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ll have to continue this discussion at a later date,¡± he said. ¡°Something''s happening.¡±


    ¡°There''s not much time, Prime Minister. We have fourteen days before the moon''s back at apogee...¡±


    ¡°There''s a tsunami heading towards Britain from Denmark,¡± said the Prime Minister. ¡°I''ll have someone get back in touch with you.¡± There was one final burst of static and then the speaker fell silent.


    ¡°A tsunami?¡± said Karen Kerr, stepping forward. ¡°Hell! As if the east coast hasn¡¯t suffered enough...¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Have you had any luck finding a moon expert?¡±


    ¡°Well, the obvious choice would be Samantha Kumiko. She''s almost universally held to be the world¡¯s foremost authority, and she lives right here, in the UK. She works in the University of Bristol.¡±


    ¡°I''m sensing a but.¡±


    ¡°We can''t get in touch with her. The phone lines and the internet are working over there, but they''re choked up with people calling the emergency services.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we can get the local police to pay her a visit. Ask her to get in touch.¡±


    ¡°I refer the Honourable Gentleman to my previous statement.¡±


    Ben smiled. ¡°Phone lines choked up. Right. Well then, I suppose one of us¡¯ll have to pay her a visit in person. Perhaps that Stirling son in law of yours.¡±


    ¡°I''m sure he¡¯ll be happy to. I''ll go have a word.¡±


    She turned to leave, and Ben pulled his phone from his pocket. He had a great many calls to make if the mission was to go ahead. If he was lucky, maybe one of them would make it through.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Margaret Lewis was enjoying a mid morning cup of tea when the siren began sounding. The exact same sound that, more than a century earlier, had been used to warn of an air raid. ¡°What''s going on, Maxie?¡± she asked.


    ¡°A state of emergency has been declared,¡± the block''s computer replied in its pleasant, nothing to worry about voice. ¡°Please obey any command given to you by the airport authorities.¡±


    Margaret sat up in alarm. ¡°What kind of emergency? Is it the Moon?¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry but I have no more information at the moment. Please obey any command...¡±


    Margaret placed the cup and saucer on the small table beside her armchair and dashed over to the window, almost expecting to see floodwaters sweeping across the fields and between the buildings, even though she knew that that was impossible. They were too high above sea level. What she saw was almost as alarming, though. The airfield was a hive of activity. Military people, some in uniform, others in the dull brown coveralls of mechanics and engineers, were running in all directions as if they were expecting to come under air attack. She actually looked up, almost expecting to see enemy bombers in the sky, but there was nothing except the gigantic moon, now nothing but a thin crescent surrounded by a halo of golden fire close beside the sun.


    There was a pounding on the door and she hurried over to find Richard standing out in the corridor. ¡°What''s going on?¡± she asked.


    ¡°No idea,¡± said Richard, looking scared, ¡°but I think we should be ready, just in case. Cath¡¯s packing a few essentials in a couple of bags. I think you should do the same.¡±


    ¡°Are we going to have to leave? We''ve only just got here!¡±


    ¡°Let''s just be ready for anything, just in case.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. I wasn''t able to bring much, and most of it''s still packed...¡±


    At that moment Maxie''s voice came from the speakers of her apartment, behind her. ¡°Attention. This is an emergency. Please be ready for emergency evacuation. I repeat, please be ready for emergency evacuation.¡±


    ¡°What''s going on, Maxie?¡± asked Margaret again.


    ¡°An emergency situation has been declared. All personnel are being evacuated by aircraft.¡±


    ¡°Why? What''s causing the emergency?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry but I have no further information at the moment.¡±


    Kathy¡¯s head emerged from the door to her apartment. ¡°Richie? Are you hearing this?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Are you packed yet?¡±


    ¡°Just a couple more things.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll come help.¡± He turned back to Margaret. ¡°You going to be okay?¡±


    ¡°I''ll be fine. See you downstairs in a couple of minutes.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Richard dashed back to his own apartment and Margaret went back inside to throw a few things into a suitcase.


    Ten minutes later, she joined her children and their families in the reception room along with a crowd of other residents, the first time so many of them had been gathered together in one place. ¡°What''s going on?¡± she asked. ¡°Are we supposed to go somewhere?¡±


    Before Richard could answer, someone opened the front door and everyone began streaming out into the cold December air. The Lewis family followed them. Outside, the air was full of the sound of aircraft engines and an Atlas military transport was speeding down the runway. Another Atlas was standing beside the airport buildings and a long line of people were climbing aboard. ¡°I think that¡¯s where we need to be,¡± someone said, and a number of people set off in that direction at a run. Everyone else stared doubtfully at each other, and then began following after them at a slow, hesitant walk.


    The first group of men had been stopped by a pair of armed air force guards, though. ¡°Please wait here,¡± one of them said. ¡®Everyone will be evacuated in plenty of time.¡±


    ¡°What''s going on?¡± Margaret heard the leader of the residents ask as the rest of the crowd caught up with them. It was one of the elderly gentlemen they¡¯d seen earlier that day.


    ¡°If I knew, I¡¯d tell you,¡± the guard replied. ¡°Everyone will be evacuated, but essential personnel have to be taken first.¡±


    ¡°I am Charles Marbury. My cousin, Daniel Marbury, is a member of the House of Lords.¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Yes, Sir. As I said, everyone will be evacuated in time.¡±


    Richard, meanwhile, had been pushing his way to the front of the crowd, Margaret and Cathy behind him carrying Timmy in his carry chair. ¡°My father is Paul Lewis,¡± he said. ¡°He''s up on the space station. My family and I were brought here for his peace of mind, so that he could work without distraction. I¡¯m sure you know how important it is that he¡¯s not distracted by thoughts of our safety.¡±


    ¡°Of course Sir,¡± said the guard, but with no sign of recognition in his eyes. ¡°As I said, everyone will be evacuated in time.¡±


    ¡°In time for what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I''m not at liberty to say any more, Sir.¡±


    He doesn''t know, Margaret realised. They¡¯d just been given orders and were carrying them out. Another of the residents had his phone to his ear, though, and suddenly gave a cry of alarm. ¡°There''s a tsunami coming!¡± he said. ¡°Right this way!¡±


    Everyone cried out in disbelief. ¡°We¡¯re fifty kilometres from the coast!¡± someone protested.


    ¡°Right now, we¡¯re five kilometres from the coast,¡± someone else pointed out.


    ¡°But we don''t get tsunamis here! It''s a mistake!¡±


    ¡°We don''t get twenty metre high tides either, but here we are,¡± the same person replied. ¡°We gotta get out of here.¡± He pushed forward, but the guards brandished their guns at him and he fell back, his eyes wide with fear.


    ¡°How long have we got?¡± asked Richard.


    ¡°Probably not long,¡± replied Len. ¡°They move fast. Must have been an earthquake in Norway or Denmark, which means it''s close already. Could be here any time.¡±


    ¡°But we''re sixty metres above sea level!¡± cried the woman standing beside him. ¡°Even with the high tide, we''re still forty metres above the water! We must be safe here, surely!¡±


    ¡°The authorities seem to think there¡¯s a danger,¡± said Richard, nodding his head towards where the people were still trying to crowd into the Atlas. Guards were turning the last people away now, and the flight crew were closing the doors. Across the field, air crews were towing the Typhoons out of their hanger and preparing them for departure. Richard didn''t think they were going to get them to safety in time.


    ¡°So what do we do? Get to higher ground?¡±


    ¡°There is no higher ground. This is the highest spot for fifty kays in any direction.¡± Richard looked around. ¡°Back into the building. Everyone back inside and get up to the top floor.¡±


    The crowd turned and ran back to the apartment block, while the two guards remained where they were. ¡°You should come with us,¡± Richard told them. ¡°You can''t stay there, out in the open.¡±


    ¡°We have our orders, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Come with us, you idiots! Quickly!¡± The two guards glanced at each other, then ran after the residents, towards the apartment block.


    There was an unseemly crush as they all tried to get in through the double doors of the entrance at once, but a man with a silvery moustache took charge and made some of them hold back while others went first. The Lewis family, near the back, waited with growing anxiety as the residents seemed to take forever to squeeze in. Margaret looked to the east and saw crowds of birds leaping into the air, so many that they seemed to turn the sky black. Behind them, the Atlas was taxiing along the runway with unusual haste, as if desperate to get into the air, and air force personnel were urging the people still out in the open to go back inside the buildings. The sound of four Typhoon engines added to the din. Outside the perimeter fence, he saw dozens of cars tearing along the road. He wondered where they thought they were going. The ground went downhill in every direction except south, and no roads went that way.


    They felt a vibration under their feet, as if they were standing on railway tracks with a train approaching fast. The crowd surged forward in a new crush, but they were mostly all inside now. ¡°Use the stairs!¡± Margaret heard someone say. ¡°Not the elevators!¡±


    In the foyer, people were crowded shoulder to shoulder and Len tried to protect Helen from being crushed. There was a stampeding sound of people rushing up the stairs, and another sound as well. A rushing, roaring sound. The sound of a lot of water approaching fast. Forty metres above sea level! thought Richard in astonishment. That''s one hell of a tsunami! Maybe the biggest ever recorded!


    The men at the back tried to close the doors against the crush of people, but then there was water washing around their feet. Salty water, smelling of fish and seaweed. It forced the doors open and washed against their legs. Maybe that¡¯s all there¡¯ll be, thought Margaret hopefully. Just a few inches to get our feet wet...


    Then the building shook as something hit it, hard, and everyone was thrown from their feet. She could have sworn the building actually moved several metres backwards, as if it had been jarred loose from its foundations. She fell onto the floor and a teenage girl fell on top of her, both of them gasping as the air was driven from their lungs. Every window exploded inwards and foamy, salty water gushed in. She and everyone around her was washed to the far wall and crushed there while the water rose. Chest high, then over their heads. Crashes and bangs came from all around. Someone trod on her hand and she opened her mouth to cry out in pain, only for water to gush in. She pulled her hand free and struggled to rise, a task made harder by the dozen or so human bodies crushed against hers all trying to do the same thing. Everything was a chaos of water, thrashing limbs and the roaring of water in her ears. She tried to open her eyes, but the water stung them and she squeezed them closed again.


    Someone was using her to push themselves upright, forcing her down in the process. She reached out to whoever it was and her hands closed around smooth, young arms. She pushed them away and struggled to get her legs under her. The other person closed their hands around her arms and together they helped each other to their feet.


    Her head broke out of the water and she gasped gratefully for breath. In front of her, her hair plastered across her face, was the young woman who''d fallen on her. Margaret let go of her and looked around for her family.


    The water was still chest height, but dropping rapidly as it flowed away through the still open doors. She was freezing! The water was icy cold! Everyone around her was shouting, screaming or crying. People were still trying to fight their way up the stairs, but she was no longer sure that was a good idea. The building might have been badly damaged. It might no longer be safe. She began shivering as the cold seeped deeper into her, though, and she realised she had no choice. She had to get dry if she was going to live.


    She heard her name being called and looked around to see Richard forcing his way towards her through the packed mass of human beings. ¡°Mum! You okay?¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± she replied as he took her arms in his hands. ¡°Where''s Cath and Timmy?¡±


    ¡±Safe. Len¡¯s taking them upstairs. Come on, Let¡¯s get you out of here.¡±


    ¡°I think the building moved.¡±


    ¡°I think so too, but it still seems fairly sound. Got no choice, anyway. There''s nothing for us outside.¡± He guided her towards the stairs as the water continued to drop. Waist high, then knee high. She saw people all around with blood pouring from open wounds, but there were no dead or unconscious, unless they were still under the water. She didn''t let herself think about that.


    Everyone was trying to climb the stairs and they joined the flow of people trudging tiredly upwards. The sound of aircraft engines had stopped, she realised, and as they passed a small window she looked out to see what had happened. The four typhoons were crumpled wrecks, and so were two helicopters that she hadn''t noticed before. The Atlas was nowhere in sight. Hopefully that meant it had gotten away. Water was flowing across the grass and the tarmac in wide streams leaving behind large pools that the wind blew waves across. There was an amazing variety of debris left everywhere from overturned cars to trees, fence panels, bricks and roof tiles. There was also what looked like a human body in the distance, although it might have just been a scarecrow from a farmer¡¯s field. She hoped it was.


    ¡°You okay?¡± Richard asked her again as they climbed. He was shivering with cold, she saw, which reminder her that she was cold as well. Why couldn¡¯t this have happened in summer?


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°How are the others?¡±


    ¡°Okay, I think. You''re the one I was worried about. You went right under! I thought we''d lost you.¡±


    ¡°You don''t get rid of me that easily...¡± The building suddenly lurched under them. Settled, as if something low down had given way. ¡°I''m not sure you¡¯re right about the building being sound.¡±


    ¡°No. As soon as we''re dry we''re getting out of here.¡±


    They were passing the first floor and going up the stairs to the second. The walls were dry here, which she found encouraging, but then she saw a large crack in the brickwork through which a cold wind was blowing. The crack widened as they passed it, then narrowed again with a groaning sound that chilled her to the soul. Please don''t collapse! she begged the building. Please don''t kill my family!


    Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they reached their rooms. Richard took them into Len and Hazel''s room, where her daughter and son in law had already undressed and were towelling themselves dry, their teeth chattering. Beside them, Helen was taking off her bra. No-one spared a thought for modesty. ¡°Get undressed and get yourself dry,¡± Richard told her. ¡°I''ll go get your clothes.¡±


    ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°You first. I''m fine for now.¡± He then disappeared back out into the corridor, heading for her rooms.


    Margaret got undressed quickly and Helen handed her a towel. It was already damp but better than nothing. As she dried herself the best she could Len tried talking to Maxie. The building''s computer didn¡¯t respond, though. He hadn''t really expected it to. Instead, he went back to where he''d left his wet clothes and pulled his phone from his pocket. It was wet, but the screen lit up when he turned it on. There was no signal, though. Every cell phone tower within range must have been taken down by the tsunami. He tried the FM radio instead, therefore, and found a BBC news channel. He turned the volume up to maximum and put it down on the table.


    ¡°Len, dear, please put some clothes on,¡± said Helen with an apologetic smile at the other women. ¡°I know you¡¯re proud of your physique...¡±


    She handed him pair of boxer shorts and he pulled them on without a word while listening carefully to the phone. ¡°The idiot¡¯s talking about Japan,¡± he said. ¡°They''re in pretty bad shape, apparently.¡± He shouted down at the screen. ¡°So are we, idiots!¡±


    ¡°If it did this to us, there can''t be anything left to the east of us,¡± said Cathy as she pulled on some dry clothes. Her skin was still sticky with damp but she was cold! She looked better immediately as she pulled a thick, woolly jumper over her head. Margaret wrapped the towel around her shoulders as she waited for Richard to get back. ¡®¡±The whole east coast must be just gone!¡± continued Cathy, wide eyed with shock. ¡°Everything for fifty miles inland!¡±


    ¡°I wonder how many dead,¡± said Len, still staring at the phone as he got dressed. ¡°Believe it or not, we got off lucky. By the time the wave got to us, there wasn¡¯t much left of it. For the people lower down, though, it must have been as if the whole North Sea fell down on them! The death toll must be...¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about it!¡± said Helen, dressing hurriedly. Richard arrived at that moment with a bundle of clothes in his arms. The others averted their eyes as Margaret dropped the towel and started getting dressed.


    ¡°I wonder if Dad knows about this,¡± said Richard as he began stripping off his wet clothes. ¡°If he''s watching the news right now, he must be worried sick.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing on the news about it yet,¡± said Len, though. ¡°This idiots still talking about Japan... Ah, wait.¡±


    The voice coming from the phone had changed and they all crowded around to listen to the man''s grave, serious tones. ¡°This news just coming in. We can now confirm an earlier report that a massive tsunami has struck the east coast of England...¡± They listened with horror as he read out a long list of places that had been hit, from Aberdeen all the way south to Norwich. The wave was now making its way along the English Channel, he said, with a portion of its force going up the Thames to inflict further misery on an already flooded London. The West coast of Europe was also being hit, particularly Belgium and northern France, and they were expected to be hit again as the wave bounced off England to go back across the North Sea. Unusually, there were no reports coming in from the afflicted areas. Margaret supposed that the local reporters themselves, those that were still alive, were still picking themselves out from the wreckage. Soon, though, there would be helicopters flying overhead, sending back images of whole cities wiped out as if by a nuclear blast.


    The building shuddered again under their feet and Richard finished drying himself in a hurry. He pulled on a fresh set of clothes in record time and then looked around at the others. ¡°Everyone ready?¡± he said. They nodded back at him as they dressed in warm coats and hats. ¡°Right, let¡¯s get out of here before this whole building collapses.¡±


    They hurried back to the stairs, where they were joined by other families who had also changed into dry clothes. Margaret saw bruises and small cuts on their faces and was reminded of her hand, that someone had trodden on. She looked at it and saw nothing more than some scuffed skin.


    The other residents were gathering outside, in front of the building, and the Lewis family joined them there. Margaret saw a man in RAF uniform hurrying over from the airport buildings and recognised Captain McMillan. ¡°Everyone alright here?¡± he asked, looking them over.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t done a head count,¡± someone replied. ¡°We don''t know if anyone''s missing.¡±


    ¡°We''ll look into it,¡± the officer replied. ¡°Anyone seriously hurt?¡± There was some shaking of heads. ¡°Good,¡± he replied. ¡°We''re gathering everyone in Hanger Two. Hanger One took most of the force of the tsunami and shielded the other hanger, so it''s still in pretty good shape. We''re heating up some soup.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like just what the doctor ordered,¡± the man replied, and the crowd followed the officer across the waterlogged field towards the airport buildings.

 Chapter Twenty Five

    The ground shook again.


    Samantha froze in the act of making sandwiches and gazed anxiously at the ceiling where a crack had appeared in the plaster sometime during the night. The tremors were coming more and more frequently as the moon pulled inexorably at the Earth¡¯s crust and fault lines that had lain dormant for millions of years were torn open. So far, none of them had been really serious, though. Not here in Britain, anyway. The news, earlier that day, had been full of the Los Angeles earthquake, an eight on the Richter scale, with reporters standing in the street in front of collapsed sections of overpasses and fallen bridges while bemused citizens strolled past as if wondering what all the fuss was about. They''d been expecting the Big One for a long time and so felt relieved, more than anything, now that it had actually happened with the city standing up to it so well. They didn''t seem to realise that another Big One would be coming twenty nine days later, when the moon made its next close approach, with another twenty nine days after that and another twenty nine days after that, forever. She wondered whether they¡¯d look quite so relaxed when the skyscrapers began falling down.


    She chastised herself for being uncharitable and returned to the sandwiches, putting the second slice of bread on top of the first and cutting diagonally. ¡°Lily!¡± She called out. ¡°Come get your lunch!¡± There was no reply, but the sounds of a computer game were coming from the living room. She put the sandwiches on a plate and carried them through.


    Lily was sitting on the living room sofa with a MiniVirt helmet on her head and a controller in one hand. ¡°Turn down the volume,¡± said Samantha anxiously. ¡°I can hear it in the kitchen. You''ll damage your hearing.¡±


    ¡°I''m getting to the good bit!¡± her daughter replied indignantly. ¡°I''ve almost reached the Goblin King¡¯s throne room!¡± She waved the controller around wildly. In her virtual space, it was a sword with which she was dispatching an army of killer pixies. Her pretty face was contorted into a grimace of grim determination.


    ¡°You can kill the Goblin King after you''ve had your lunch,¡± said Samantha, putting the plate of sandwiches down beside her. ¡®Save your position and quit for a little while.¡±


    ¡°I can''t! I''m in the zone!¡±


    Samantha smiled at her daughter''s use of language while Lily continued the slaughter. Then she reached out and touched the button on the side of the helmet. Lily gave a cry of outrage as the game saved itself and quit. Then she took off the helmet and glared at her mother. ¡°Why''d you do that?¡±


    ¡°It''s time for your lunch. Eat!¡±


    Lily continued to glare at her, but then her eyes drifted to the sandwiches. She picked one up and took a bite. Samantha smiled at her, then returned to the kitchen to fix something for herself.


    She had the cupboard open and was searching around among the tins and packets of dried food, looking for something that took her fancy, when she heard the hum of a vehicle¡¯s engine pulling up outside. There was the sound of a car door opening and the sounds of people getting out. More than one person. Two or three by the sound of them. She heard no voices, though, and that struck her as curious. When a group of people arrived uninvited at someone''s home, they would normally be speaking to each other, things like ¡®I wonder if she''s in¡¯ or ¡®I hope this isn''t a bad time for her¡¯. Maybe they¡¯d already had that conversation in the car, but Samantha still found herself getting a little spooked. She found herself acutely aware that there was no-one else in the street. No-one within half a mile but her six year old daughter and a group of strangers.


    When the doorbell rang her heart leapt with alarm but she forced herself to remain calm. She looked around for something she could use as a weapon, just in case, and grabbed a ten inch kitchen knife. Then, holding it behind her back, her heart pounding in her ears, she went to open the door.


    The moment she turned the latch the door was pushed open and three men forced their way in. A father and his two adult sons by the look of them. All with greasy hair and two days growth of stubble. They looked evil. If she¡¯d seen them earlier, she would never have opened the door to them. ¡°Check the house.¡± said the father, and the two younger men pushed their way past while he grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and held her fast.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± cried Samantha. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Never mind who we are,¡± the man replied. ¡°Just stay calm and you won¡¯t get hurt.¡±


    Samantha wasn''t prepared to take his word for it, though. Not with her daughter in the house. She tried to stab him but the man caught her wrist and held it painfully tight. Then he twisted hard. She gave a cry of pain and dropped the knife. He snatched it up before it hit the ground and eyed it appraisingly. Then he tucked it into his belt.


    ¡°Parker!¡± She cried. ¡°Call the police!¡±


    ¡°Hi regret, M¡¯lady, that hall the phone lines are busy...¡± One of the sons opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs and ripped the server off the wall.


    ¡°I don''t have any money!¡± cried Samantha. ¡°There''s nothing worth stealing!¡±


    ¡°Everybody''s got something,¡± The father replied. ¡°Show us where it is and we''ll be on our way.¡±


    ¡°The whole street''s empty! Why not search one of the empty houses?¡±


    ¡°Cos they''ll have taken all their valuables with them when they left. It''s people who stayed we want.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Dad!¡± one of the sons called out. ¡°They got a ton of food here! The freezers stuffed!¡±


    ¡°Load it up,¡± The father called back.


    Then Lily screamed. ¡°No!¡± cried Samantha desperately. ¡°Leave her alone!¡± She struggled in the man¡¯s grasp but he held on to her effortlessly.


    ¡°There''s a kid in here,¡± The other son called out. ¡°Wadda we do with her?¡±


    ¡°Get rid of her,¡± The father replied.


    Samantha cried out again and struggled even harder, as uselessly as before. Then she brought her knee up hard into his groin. He cried out in pain and fury but only let go with one hand. He clenched it into a fist and punched her with all his strength full in the face.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°George!¡± said Paul Lewis urgently. ¡°What''s happening to my family?¡±


    The news channels were filling the command module of the Harmony Space Station with reports of disasters and calamities all over the world. The astronauts had watched and listened with grim sympathy until the BBC reported the tsunami that had struck the east coast of England. Then Paul had cried out in horror and turned to the internet for more details. The flood map clearly showed RAF Cranwell to be inside the affected area. The supposedly safe place where his family was taking shelter.


    ¡°We¡¯re waiting for details,¡± the ground controllers replied. ¡°Almost all channels of communication have been cut by the floods. The British government is communicating by long wave, but they haven''t managed to contact RAF Cranwell yet. They probably don''t have a long wave set. It''s obsolete technology. Everyone uses satellites these days. Who could have guessed we''d lose them all...¡±


    ¡°Then get someone over there!¡± cried Paul, his hands balled into fists. He wanted to pace back and forth to vent some of his nervous energy, but all he could do was float. ¡°Get someone over there to see if they''re safe.¡±


    ¡°We''re already on it, but most of the roads are out, or blocked with debris. It''ll probably be a few hours yet. I''m sure they''re safe. The airport authorities had orders to give them priority in the event of an emergency.¡±


    ¡°I''m coming down. I''m taking the shuttle and coming down.¡±


    ¡°Paul! Take a moment and think! We''ll have news of your family in just a couple of hours, at most. It''ll take you three, maybe four hours to get back down to Earth, and even then you''ll be landing in North Africa. How long do you think it¡¯ll take you to get home from there, the way transport links are at the moment?¡±


    ¡°He''s right, Paul,¡± said Koshing gently. ¡°There¡¯s no way you can get to them in time to make a difference.¡±


    Paul cursed in frustration. He wanted to hit something! ¡°I should have gone when Benny asked me,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯d all be safely home by now.¡±


    ¡°If you were home, we''d have no reason to take special care of your family,¡± said George.


    ¡°You call that taking special care?¡± cried Paul in fury, pointing at the monitor screen. A helicopter was flying over a small town and was sending back pictures of utter devastation. Buildings had been totally demolished, as if by the shockwave of a nuclear blast. Trees and lamp posts had been overturned, cars were piled up in crumpled heaps. Pools of water lay everywhere and a handful of miserable looking figures were shivering as they waded through the wreckage in soaking wet clothes. Some were digging through it with their bare hands, looking for buried loved ones. He didn''t dare wonder what the death toll had been.


    ¡°That village was just a few metres above the high tide line,¡± pointed out George. ¡°Your family was forty metres above it. There was almost nothing left of the wave by the time it reached them. And if you hadn''t been up there, they would probably have been in a refugee camp. Maybe Nettleton. Paul, there''s nothing left of Nettleton. It''s just gone. You probably saved their lives just by being up there. That goes for the rest of you, too. So long as you''re up there, we''ve got a special interest in seeing that your families are safe. Once you come down, your families are no more important than any other.¡±


    ¡°So you''re holding them hostage to ensure our good behaviour?¡±


    ¡®Paul, you''re distraught. You''re not thinking straight. Understandable in the circumstances, but you have to get a grip on yourself. We''re moving heaven and earth to keep your family safe. We''ll have news of them very soon, I promise.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you still want us up here anyway,¡± said Benny, floating just beside the hatch to Node Five. ¡°I mean, what good are we doing? We only have one scientist up here now, and her experiment burned up in the atmosphere a week ago. The rest of us are just doing the essential work of keeping Harmony in good shape and kicking our heels the rest of the time. Why not let us come home and leave Harmony empty until you have a use for it again?¡±


    ¡°We were going to do just that,¡± replied George. ¡°We were going to call you home just a couple of hours ago, but then we had a communication from the British Prime Minister. They want to have another go at dealing with the moon, and they say they¡¯ll need your help.¡±


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.     ¡°Will it involve another spacewalk?¡± asked Susan anxiously. She glanced over at the two Chinese crew members.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I understand that you''ll be playing an important part in whatever happens. Apparently, the Brits need the Americans, and the Americans will only play along if there¡¯s an American in charge up there. Apparently, you''re to be in charge of a very important American asset. Something they don¡¯t want to let fall into foreign hands.¡±


    ¡°Another mass dampener?¡± asked Paul. ¡°I thought the Chinese invented it.¡±


    ¡°You now know as much as I do, Paul. Just hang tight, and remember that, so long as you''re up there, we¡¯re as desperate to protect your family as the Royal family itself. The best thing you can do to keep them safe is to stay up there. That goes for the rest of you as well. Oh, we''re sending the  mule to refuel the Jinlong shuttle. Sorry it''s taken so long.¡±


    ¡°Now that we¡¯re pretty much the only thing left in orbit,¡± said Benny with a humourless chuckle. ¡°Big of them.¡±


    ¡°I can pretty much guarantee that you¡¯ll all have your feet back on solid ground within a couple of weeks,¡± said George. ¡°Apparently, this second rescue mission is very time sensitive. If they can''t do it when the moon reached apogee, they¡¯ll have lost the chance forever. So whether it works or not, when it''s over you can all come home. There''ll be no reason for you to stay up there any longer.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± said Susan and Benny together. They looked at each other in surprise and then laughed nervously.


    ¡°God, but I hate this place!¡± said Susan with feeling. ¡°When I first came up here I was so excited. The pinnacle of my career! The very cutting edge of science! Now, though, I hate every little thing about this place. I hate how the air stinks. I hate how you can''t get away from the sound of pumps and machinery. I hate the food and the ridiculous procedures we have to go through to perform bodily functions. I hate being weightless and I hate not being able to have a proper wash.¡±


    ¡°But on the plus side, you have us to keep you company,¡± said Jayesh with a smile.


    Susan¡¯s answering smile was clearly forced, though, and Paul wondered whether she was coming to hate them as well, because of the forced intimacy. Harmony was huge by the standards of any space station that had ever existed before, but when you were cooped up in it for months on end it began to feel very small. She might come to feel more fondly towards them once they were all back on the ground, able to truly get apart from each other whenever they wanted. Right now, though, while they were stuck up in space, he found himself growing more and more certain that she was starting to hate her fellow crew members as much as the food and the toilets.


    His eyes were drawn back to the monitor screens and the images of destruction that filled them. Anxious thoughts of his family returned, until Jayesh gently touched his arm. ¡°Don¡¯t fret, my friend,¡± he said, guessing his thoughts. ¡°There''s nothing you can do for them, and our lords and masters will be working miracles to keep them safe. Come on, let''s go inspect the solar panels again. What you need is something to occupy your mind.¡±


    Paul nodded, knowing he was right, and the two men swam through the hatch into the next module.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°I have some good news and some bad news,¡± said Ben, pausing in the doorway.


    The others, relaxing in the common room, looked up at him. Everyone except Stuart and Jessica, who¡¯d set off by car to find Samantha Kumiko, had gathered to take a break and enjoy a well deserved cup of tea. The television screen was blank. The images it had been showing had been just too distressing. On the other side of the room, though, a couple of junior researchers were bent over a tablet with a look of entranced fascination. Eddie found himself feeling a little disgusted by them.


    ¡°Give us the good news,¡± said Alice. ¡°God knows we could use some.¡±


    ¡°There''s a rocket sitting on a launch pad, just waiting to lift off. The Prime Minister has been in touch with them and they''re apparently willing to give it to us. I would imagine that some financial inducement was involved.¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± said Frank. Ben was looking grim, though. ¡°Not great?¡±


    ¡°It''s a Star Pigeon,¡± the older man said. He didn''t say anything more. He didn''t have to.


    The Star Pigeons were one of the smaller privately owned launch vehicles. There were over two dozen countries, companies and businesses around the world that had the ability to put payloads into space. They ranged from the grand and glamorous, like the Hilton Hotels Corporation with its Space Hotel and its fleet of cruise shuttles, to the practical and functional like Spacetruck and OrbitalUK. PigeonCo was in a league all of its own, though. A quick and dirty space launch company that had been created by its founder, Mark Pigeon, for the sole purpose of launching satellites more quickly and more cheaply than any of their larger and more illustrious competitors.


    ¡°They can''t carry people,¡± said Frank, rather unnecessarily.


    ¡°They''re not designed to carry people,¡± Ben corrected him. ¡°Maybe we can rig something up.¡±


    ¡°Rockets that don¡¯t have to carry people can accelerate harder than crewed flights,¡± added James. ¡°They may not be survivable by a human crew.¡±


    ¡°Star Pigeons launch at six gees,¡± said Ben. ¡°I looked it up. It would be uncomfortable, but survivable for someone in reasonably good health.¡±


    ¡°How much of a payload can they take up?¡± asked Frank.


    ¡°Three hundred and sixty kilos.¡±


    ¡°Well, there you go then,¡± said the younger man, throwing up his hands. ¡°No-one¡¯s ever made a crew capsule that small.¡±


    ¡°Not openly,¡± said Ben, though. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if someone¡¯s created an ultra small launch vehicle to put a single man into space for some kind of secret mission. It''s exactly the sort of thing the Americans would have done back in the Cold War. Doesn''t help us, though. Just getting them to admit that such a thing existed would take more time than we have.¡±


    ¡°So that''s it then,¡± said Frank. ¡°It was a good idea, but it never got off the ground. Either literally or figuratively.¡±


    ¡°How much did a Mercury capsule weigh?¡± asked Eddie. The others stared at him. ¡°Well, I mean, the Chinese did it. They put a used capsule on a new rocket and launched two people into space. If they can do it, why not us?¡±


    ¡°China is a totalitarian state,¡± pointed out James. ¡°They can do things we can''t. The Premier can say ¡®Do this!¡¯ and people have to obey. We don¡¯t have that luxury.¡±


    ¡°This is a time of emergency,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°The government has emergency powers. They can pretty much do anything.¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t matter,¡± said Alice glumly, though. She''d pulled her phone from her pocket and had been doing an internet search. ¡°Mercury capsules weighed fourteen hundred kilos. Nearly four times more than the rocket can lift.¡±


    Silence fell as they all stared at the floor or off into infinity. Ben tried to imagine what a Mercury capsule was made of and how much lighter they could make it by stripping out as much as possible. It would be made of heavy alloys, he mused. Modern aeralloys were much lighter. How much of it could they swap out in the time they had? He laughed internally. They had maybe a week. A laughably inadequate amount of time.


    ¡°If you reduced the weight by seventy six percent...¡± began Alice hesitantly.


    The others stared at her. ¡°Damn, yes!¡± said Eddie. ¡°The mass dampener! We''ve got to launch it anyway. Why not make it earn its passage?¡±


    ¡°We''ve only got the one,¡± said Frank, ¡°and we¡¯ve modified it to act as a mass amplifier. Can we make another in time?¡±


    ¡°Better to just have the one, I think,¡± said Ben, though. ¡°We can''t afford the weight of a second device. Convert it back into a mass dampener for the launch, then turn it back into a mass amplifier when we move the moon.¡±


    ¡°That''s a lot of juggling around components,¡± said James, though. ¡°Easy for something to get damaged.¡±


    ¡°I can do it,¡± insisted Frank. ¡°I''ll be careful.¡±


    ¡°Suppose we could rig up a second device,¡± said Eddie. ¡°What would happen if you had two of them active at the same time? Would the second device reduce mass by a further seventy six percent? Could we reduce the capsule¡¯s mass by, er, what? Ninety percent?¡±


    ¡°That''s an experiment we should have performed long before this,¡± said Frank, nodding. ¡°We''ve got absolutely no theory to tell us what''ll happen. The plan requires that we have our home made device and the original alien device active at the same time, with the area of effect of one completely within the other. We¡¯re assuming that they''ll just cancel each other out, but what if something more complicated happens? Maybe something disastrous.¡±


    ¡°Can we try it out before we launch them?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°Turn them both on at the same time and see what happens?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re talking about a device that can render the entire moon virtually massless,¡± pointed out Ben, though. ¡°If it does something unexpected, it could potentially affect the entire world. I think we''re better off doing the experiment up on the moon, a safe distance from the Earth.¡±


    ¡°Where I¡¯ll be the only one killed,¡± said Frank with a smile.


    ¡°Frank,¡± said Ben seriously, ¡°You would have to be crazy to go along with this mad plan. I mean, we¡¯re talking about somehow bolting a hundred year old Mercury capsule on top of a rocket that was never designed for such a thing, with no way of knowing whether some factor that we¡¯ve overlooked will make it crash before reaching orbit. There¡¯s certainly no way we can arrange any kind of abort procedure. You survive only if you successfully reach orbit. If anything goes wrong, anything at all, you die. I don¡¯t know why we¡¯re even talking about this. It''s completely mad!¡±


    ¡°And even if everything goes perfectly, you may die anyway,¡± added Karen. ¡°You¡¯ll be taking twice the gee force they normally experience going into orbit. There may be a problem with your oxygen supply. There may be a fire... And even if you reach orbit there may be a problem rendezvousing with the Space Station. A delay of just a few hours might mean that your oxygen runs out before they can get you aboard.¡±


    ¡°What about modifying one of the shuttles so it can get to the moon?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°Can it be done? Is it even theoretically possible?¡±


    ¡°I talked to some of the ESA engineers,¡± said Ben. ¡°They said it might actually be quite simple. It would need pretty much all the fuel the space station has left, though. Harmony would be left with no way to boost itself back up into a higher orbit. They''d have to de-orbit it to prevent it coming down later and maybe landing on a city or something. If we do this, we''d have to sacrifice the space station.¡±


    "Some of the private space agencies have reusable launch vehicles with as much crew space as Harmony," pointed out Frank. "It probably wouldn''t take much modification to turn one of them into a permanent space station, should they ever decide they need another one. Plus, if everything goes to plan, we have a chance to put the moon back into its old orbit. We might be saving thousands of lives. Millions, maybe! In times of war, people take these kinds of risks routinely. Officers order their men to take those kinds of risks.¡±


    ¡°We''re not at war,¡± pointed out Ben. ¡°And even if we were, you''re not in the army. You never signed up for anything like this.¡±


    ¡°I''m willing to take the risk. I have to...¡±


    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°Yes, I do. Listen, suppose I don¡¯t. Suppose I chicken out, refuse to go up. Then I spend the rest of my life watching the moon causing disasters around the world on my television. I spend the rest of my life hearing about people dying in floods and earthquakes, knowing that I might have been able to stop it. How am I supposed to live with myself? If the rocket crashes and I die, at least I''ll have tried. I''ll be able to rest easy in my grave knowing that I tried.¡±


    Karen put her hand on his, gave it a gentle squeeze. ¡°It''s not fair that it¡¯s all on you,¡± she said.


    ¡°I¡¯m the only one who knows the device well enough.¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not,¡± said Eddie in a quiet voice, as if hoping the others wouldn''t hear him. ¡°I could go. I know the device well enough to fix most problems that could crop up.¡±


    Frank smiled at him. ¡°You''re a good chap, Eddie,¡± he said, ¡°but you''re still bringing yourself up to speed with what I¡¯ve been working on for years. You don¡¯t know the device a fraction as well as I do.¡±


    ¡°I know it well enough to create the mass amplifier,¡± protested Eddie indignantly.


    ¡°You had one flash of insight, yes, but that can¡¯t compare with my depth of knowledge. Look, you can be my understudy. If anything happens to me, you get my seat in the rocket.¡±


    ¡°We''ll see you both get trained for the mission,¡± said Ben. ¡°Send you off to Cologne for a crash course in the astronaut training program.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why we need to be trained to just sit in a couch,¡± said Frank. ¡°I mean, I won''t be piloting it or anything, will I? I¡¯ll just be sitting there, like the chimpanzees they used to put into space.¡±


    ¡°The Mercury astronauts were trained for years before being allowed anywhere near a space capsule,¡± said Ben. ¡°Granted, the Mercury capsules had a lot of manual controls which your capsule won''t have, but even so I would imagine they''ll be very unhappy letting you go into space with only a few days of only the most basic induction.¡±


    ¡°Could they refuse to let him fly?¡± asked Alice. ¡°Could they just flat out say no?¡±


    ¡°They could say no,¡± replied Ben, ¡°But they can''t stop us. Star Pigeon is based in Guyana, they launch from a town called Mahdia. It''s a completely privately owned and operated company. Technically, they need permission from the ISA to launch anything, but since there''s virtually nothing else in orbit at the moment and no launches planned by anyone for the foreseeable future, I see no reason why Mark Pigeon can''t just tell the rest of the world to go to hell and launch anyway. If the mission works, the rest of the world will be falling all over themselves to congratulate him.¡±


    ¡°And if the mission fails?¡± asked Alice.


    ¡°Then censorship from the rest of the world will be the least of his problems,¡± said Ben. ¡°But I think that, even if it fails, the rest of the world will congratulate him for trying, just like the Chinese.¡±


    ¡°Does Mark Pigeon know why we want his rocket?¡± asked James. ¡°Does he know we want to put a man into space?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± replied Ben with a smile. ¡°He does not.¡±


    ¡°How do you think he¡¯ll react when he finds out?¡±


    ¡°I would imagine he''ll be rather surprised,¡± the older man said, and his smile was reflected by everyone around him. ¡°So. Are we really going to do this?¡±


    They all looked at Frank. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°We really are.¡±


    Ben gave a heavy sigh. ¡°Okay, then,¡± he said. ¡°I''ll get back to the Prime Minister and ask him to do whatever he has to do to make it happen.¡±


    He stood again and left the room, leaving the others sitting in a stunned silence as they contemplated the magnitude of what they were planning to do.

 Chapter Twenty Six

    Samantha was aware of two things as she slowly drifted back to consciousness. She was cold and her head hurt. There were other sensations trying to intrude. A sound and a smell, but her mind was too foggy to make sense of them and it was too much of an effort to open her eyes. She put them out of her mind for the time being, therefore, while she tried to remember where she was and what had happened to her.


    She jerked up into a sitting position as it came back to her. Three men! They¡¯d broken into her house and attacked her! Punched her in the face! Knocked her out cold! There was something else. Something terribly important, but it wouldn''t come to her right now.


    She forced her eyes open, half expecting to see them standing around her, but they were gone. The fridge stood open, it was empty. She assumed they''d taken everything and she groaned with misery. Then she looked down at herself.


    Her shirt had been torn open and was hanging from her elbows, behind her back. It was the only thing she was wearing. She put a trembling hand between her legs, felt stickiness and groaned with sick horror. They''d raped her while she''d been unconscious. She shrugged the shirt back across her shoulders and held it closed with one hand while she climbed back to her feet. Where was...


    Lily! God, how could she have forgotten Lily? She stared around the room, looking for her, then dashed into the kitchen, staggering and grabbing hold of the cooker to keep from falling. Her head swam with dizziness. The sound and the smell was getting stronger. What was it?


    Her heart jumped with terror as she recognised it. The smell was smoke, and the sound was the crackling of a fire. They¡¯d set the house on fire! Of course they had! Rape was almost unheard of these days because it was so easy to identify the perpetrators. You couldn''t molest a woman without leaving your DNA all over her, even if it was just dead skin cells from your fingers. Even forcing the victim to take a shower afterwards didn''t guarantee that it would get rid of all of it. The only way to be sure was to kill and cremate the victim. She''d still been solidly unconscious when they''d finished with her. It was pure luck that she''d woken up in time.


    She could see it now. Yellow flames climbing the curtains and spreading out across the ceiling. They''d started half a dozen fires in different places. She ran from room to room, calling out her daughter''s name in rising terror. Get rid of the kid, the father had said. What did that mean? What had they done to her?


    The bannisters of the staircase were aflame, the fire eagerly devouring the varnish covering the wood. She brushed against them as she took the stairs three at a time and her shirt caught fire. She shrugged out of it and let it drop. The air was full of smoke and she held her arm against her face, as if that would somehow keep her from breathing it in. The bedroom doors were closed. She opened the door to Lily''s room, threw it open...


    Lily was lying on the floor. They''d wrapped duct tape around her arms and legs and stuck another piece across her mouth. She was bleeding from a cut to her head. The little girl stared at her mother with eyes wide with terror. Samantha scooped her up in her arms and turned to go. The stairway was a living mass of flames and she felt burning heat against her bare arms and legs as she tore back down to the hallway. She opened the front door and raced out into the front garden.


    Outside, the cold air stung her bare body like a thousand tiny knives. Half melted snow squelched under her bare feet. Lily squirmed in her arms as she turned her head to see the burning house. Samantha felt goosebumps breaking out across the little girl''s bare arms, where the tape wasn''t covering them. They had to get inside, out of the cold. And quickly! Their car was gone. Stealing a car wasn''t easy these days, but she had no doubt they were professional criminals and knew how. There were no other cars in the street. That meant getting inside a house. There were plenty to choose from, but they were all empty and locked up and she had nothing but her bare hands to break into one. Either that, or just run to keep warm and hope they met someone willing to help them.


    Could their attackers still be around? Perhaps waiting to make sure that no-one made it out of the house? She stared around in sudden fear but saw nothing. No, they¡¯ll be long gone, she thought. They wouldn''t want to stick around in case the fire attracted the attention of the authorities. It made sense, but she still felt a sudden urgency to get out of sight, just in case.


    One of her neighbours had a rock garden, and that decided it for her. She ran across the street, gently placed Lily on the ground and picked up one of the rocks. It was heavy, which was good. She hefted it in her hands and threw it at the front window with all her strength. It bounced off the double glazing without even making a mark.


    She picked it back up and tried again. This time the glass cracked, and the third time it broke into large, jagged fragments. The house alarm began ringing, deafeningly loud. ¡°Alert! Alert!¡± cried the house computer. ¡°Stop your attack immediately! The police are being called!¡±


    That suited Samantha. She wanted the police, but she suspected that this house¡¯s computer would have no more luck getting through than her own had. She used the stone to clear the remaining glass from its frame, therefore, then broke the inner pane the same way. It took another two heavy blows from the rock, but at last the window was open, with warm air drifting out.


    She picked up Lily again and climbed carefully through. She suffered a number of tiny cuts to her arms and legs, which she ignored. The front room was getting cold as the outside air drifted in, so she went through to the next room, the front living room, and closed the door behind them.


    It was blessedly warm! She felt her bare body drinking in the heat and stood there for several moments, just shivering. The house computer was still shouting out its warning, still saying that the police were being called above the din of the clanging alarms, but the phone lines were almost certainly still overloaded. Still, it was nice to hope. She placed Lily carefully on the dining table and tried to pull the tape from her mouth.


    It clung fiercely, and she had to peel it off one careful millimetre at a time while the little girl winced with pain. ¡°It''s okay, Lily,¡± she said as she did it. ¡°You''re safe now. You''re safe.¡± The little girl just stared up into her eyes, nodding.


    The tape finally let go and she rubbed it onto the table to get it off her fingers. Lily gasped with relief, sucking in air. ¡°Are you okay Baby?¡± She had to speak loudly to be heard over the still blaring house alarm.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the little girl replied. ¡°They set fire to the house!¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know.¡± She set about pulling the tape from her arms. ¡°What happened to your head, Baby?¡±


    ¡°I tried to stand up, to get the door knob, but I fell over and hit my head on the bed. I fell asleep for a little while.¡±


    White fury filled Samantha, and her hands shook so much that for a while she couldn''t continue. If fate should ever bring her back face to face with those three men, she knew she''d kill them without a moment¡¯s hesitation or regret. She forced herself back under control and returned to the tape binding her daughter''s arms.


    ¡°Why have you got no clothes on?¡± asked Lily. It wasn''t the first time she''d seen her unclothed. They''d liked to take baths together, but they wouldn''t be able to any more. Seeing her naked would now remind Lily of this moment and would just cause her distress. Something else they''d taken from them.


    ¡°It doesn''t matter,¡± Samantha replied. The upper arms were done. Now for the forearms and hands, where they were stuck to the sides of her thighs. The tape clung just as strongly as it had to her face, and Lily gave little gasps of pain as it tugged at her delicate skin and pulled out almost invisibly fine, downy hairs.


    ¡°Did they put their pee pees inside you?¡±


    Samantha winced at the question. She¡¯d explained the facts of life to her daughter. Never too young, she''d thought. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. ¡°I''m okay,¡± she just said. Fortunately, Lily was too young to understand what rape meant, but as the years passed there would come a day when she did understand, and she would remember that it had happened to her mother. They were going to have to have a long, serious talk about it some time. It would be awful, but necessary.


    ¡°Are you going to have a baby?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± That, at least, was something she didn''t have to worry about. Her contraceptive jab was good for at least another six months. Of course, there were any number of nasty diseases they might have given her. Maybe one of the antibiotic resistant ones. No time to worry about that now.


    She pulled the past bit of tape from the back of Lily''s hands. As soon as her arms were free she threw them around her mother¡¯s neck and hugged her tight, her whole body shivering with fear. ¡°Why''d they do it, mummy?¡± she mumbled into the side of her neck. ¡°Why''d they do it?¡±


    ¡°They were bad men,¡± Samantha replied, hugging her back. ¡°Some people are just bad. Not many. Most people are good. Most people are good. You have to remember that, Lily. You understand?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mummy.¡±


    Freeing her legs was much easier. She just took off her pants, tape and all, and threw them across the room in disgust. Then she looked at the cut on Lily''s forehead. It had stopped bleeding on its own, but would probably need a couple of stitches. She looked into the girl''s eyes and was relieved to see that her pupils were reacting normally. That and the way she was able to hold a normal conversation reassured her that she''d taken no lasting harm from the injury. She cleaned the cut with a damp towel and put a bandage over it from a first aid kit she found in the kitchen. Then she went looking for some clothes to wear, taking Lily with her. After what had happened, she knew it would be a long time before she could bear to let her out of her sight, even for a moment.


    This house belonged to Andrew Beck and his family; his wife Cordelia and their eight year old son Roger. Cordelia was a larger woman than Samantha. Taller and fuller around the waist. Any clothes she found would hang on her like a tent, but there was no choice. The Becks wouldn''t have left any perishable food in the house. If they wanted to eat they would have to go outside, and that meant they would need protection against the cold.


    They went upstairs, therefore, looking for the bedrooms. The first room they passed was the bathroom, though. Samantha looked longingly at the shower. The urge to get in and scrub until she was red all over was almost overpowering. She could feel the sweat, the semen and the fingerprints they''d left all over her body and she wanted it gone! She still dreaded that her attackers might return, though, no matter how irrational she knew that fear was. She wanted to get further away! As far as possible! She couldn¡¯t wait, not even for the few minutes it would have taken to have a quick shower. Also, the filth they left on her body (and in it! The thought almost made her freak out in terrified disgust!) was evidence. Evidence that would send their attackers to prison. She craved revenge on them, and this was how she would get it. If their DNA was on record, and she would be astonished if it wasn''t, a simple rape kit was as all she would need to get it.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    With an effort of willpower, therefore, she took Lily further along the hall to the bedrooms and a few minutes later they were dressed in clothes much too large for them, cinched close to their bodies with belts and shoelaces. Lily was wearing a pair of Roger¡¯s shoes, padded out with three pairs of socks, while Samantha wore a pair of men¡¯s shoes, brown and sensible. Cordelia, it seemed, only wore high heels, something Samantha had never gotten along with despite being smaller than average even for an Asian woman.


    Samantha then searched the house for food. As expected, the Becks had taken everything perishable, but they found a packet of breakfast cereal and a tin of biscuits in the kitchen. Then she wrote a note of apology to the family, explaining the reason for the damage they''d done and leaving a contact telephone number. Not her own number but Neil Arndale''s number. Her own phone had either been taken by her rapists or was currently melting in the house fire, along with her tablet and all her bank cards. She could get new cards, she told herself. She¡¯d memorized all her bank passwords which, along with an iris scan, would allow her to identify herself at any computer terminal, and once she had some new cards she could buy food and clothes for herself and Lily. Then, it would just be a matter of finding someone to take them in. She had no relatives in this country, but she had friends she could ask. One of them would have a spare room or something.


    She nodded to herself. Yes, that was the plan. New bank cards, new phone, start calling friends. ¡°Come on, Lily,¡± she said. ¡°Time to go.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°To find a bank terminal. There''s a couple in the high street.¡± If they''re working, she told herself. The phone lines and the internet had been clogged to uselessness. Maybe the bank terminals used dedicated lines that remained unaffected. She wouldn¡¯t know until she tried.


    They packed their food into a rucksack, and then they put on heavy overcoats and woolly hats. Then, after slinging the rucksack onto her back, they left. They couldn''t find the key to the front door so they returned to the broken window in the front room. She felt guilty for what they¡¯d done. She imagined Andrew Beck raging with fury at her, but they''d had no choice. He would understand. And if he didn''t, too bad. She lifted Lily carefully through the broken window, avoiding the shards of broken glass around the edges, then climbed through after her. Finally, she reached back in and closed the curtains after herself. Maybe it would do something to keep the rain out.


    Their house was well ablaze now. Lily stared at it, horror stricken, and Samantha took her by the shoulders to turn her away from it. ¡°Come on, Sweetie,¡± she said, leading her away down the street. ¡°There''s nothing here for us any more.¡±


    They''d left her to burn! she thought as they walked along the pavement, away from the burning house. They''d left her daughter to burn alive! Rage flared up inside her again. Her own rape was forgotten. What they had done to her daughter, the fate they¡¯d left her to suffer, filled her with a fire of fury as great as the fire that was consuming their house. She realised she was holding Lily''s hand too tightly and made herself relax a little.


    ¡°This is an exciting adventure, isn¡¯t it?¡± she made herself say.


    ¡°No!¡± Lily replied angrily. ¡°I want to go home.¡±


    ¡°I know, but we''ll find a new home, and it''ll be even better than the old one.¡±


    She looked down at her daughter, and saw her looking doubtfully back up at her. She''s a smart girl, she thought to herself. She''s not going to be taken in by any bullshitting. ¡°We''re going to be okay,¡± she told her. ¡°I promise.¡± Lily nodded and turned to look ahead, in the direction they were walking.


    Samantha looked back just once more before they reached the end of the street and passed out of sight of the burning house. All the clever plans I made, she thought, feeling sick despair threatening to sweep her away. Our fortress, in which we were going to ride out the nightmare. Everyone else in the street had been smart enough to get out. She''d stayed because of her pride, because she¡¯d thought having advance warning gave her an advantage. The clever moon scientist whose job had allowed her to see what was coming ahead of everyone else. This was her fault, and now Lily was paying for it.


    Then they turned the corner and the burning house disappeared from view. Samantha took a firmer grip on her daughter''s hand and led her on, towards whatever comfort and safety she could find.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    The intersection with Sullivan Street was flooded, they saw. Briny sea water lapped lazily at the kerbstones lining the street and left small, broken strands of seaweed washed up on the pavement. To their left, the street that crossed the one they were following sloped downwards, all flooded. The water covered the gardens of the houses lining it, with carefully pruned shrubs and decorative ornaments rising above it like an archipelago of tiny islands. Further away, where the water was even deeper, wheelie bins, dustbins, garden chairs and even cars bobbed gently as they floated, gradually drifting together until they formed a single solid mass at the high tide line. Further away still, the water covered everything, even the roofs of the houses themselves, forming an unbroken expanse of water that stretched all the way to the horizon.


    Lily and Samantha paused for a moment to stare silently at it. There was no-one else in sight. They had the whole town to themselves, it seemed. The only sounds were the gentle bumping of floating objects and the distant cries of seagulls. It was easy to imagine that they were the only two people left on the whole planet. Samantha felt Lily''s hand tightening in her own. She was able to imagine the little girl''s fear and loneliness because it matched her own.


    ¡°Looks like I''m going to have to get my feet wet,¡± she said. ¡°Looks like it''s just a few inches deep. I can carry you to the other side. You okay?¡± Lily nodded soberly. ¡°Once we¡¯re across the street we can walk on top of that wall to keep out of the water. Don''t fall in, it''s very cold. Okay?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mummy. I''m good at balancing.¡±


    ¡°I know you are. Here we go then.¡± She crouched down to let her daughter climb up on to her back, then stood, taking hold of her ankles. Lily shifted slightly into a more comfortable position on Samantha''s shoulders and put her hands on her mother''s forehead to steady herself. ¡°Okay then,¡± said Samantha. ¡°Here we go.¡±


    She stepped out into the water. It was cold as it soaked into her shoes but she ignored it. She looked left and right as she crossed the road, driven by the habits of a lifetime, but there was still nothing. Reaching the other side, she lifted Lily up onto the brick garden wall, then climbed up after her. Her feet squelched with water.


    Lily preceded her along the wall. Samantha kept her hands on the girl''s shoulders as they went. Partly to steady her, partly just for the reassurance. When they came to an open gate, Samantha squeezed her way past her daughter to jump across first, then held out her hands to catch Lily as she followed. A little further along, the wall was replaced by a hedge. It supported their weight as they walked across it, although it sagged and bowed under them. Beside them, the water grew deeper as the road followed a shallow depression. After a hundreds metres or so it was three feet deep, deep enough that even the top of the wall was a couple of inches below the surface. After that, though, the street climbed again and after another thirty or forty metres they were able to climb down and walk on the dry pavement once more.


    It was beginning to get dark. Samantha looked up and saw that the sun was passing behind the moon. A colossal diamond ring with the sun as the jewel and the moon as a band of gold at least three times its normal diameter. She and Lily shaded their eyes with their hands as they watched the sun shrink until it vanished altogether. There was still plenty of light to see by, though, scattered by the moon''s atmosphere. The moon was now a complete circle of fire surrounding darkness. An awesome and terrifying sight.


    The high street, when they reached it a few minutes later, was as deserted as everything else they''d seen so far. Some of the shops, particularly the food shops, had been broken into. They looked, but they''d been completely cleaned out. They then checked the local media shop hoping it might contain a phone they could call someone on. There were plenty of boxes in the window with pictures of phones on them, but the phones themselves were in a back room, behind a locked door.


    That left what they''d come to find. The bank terminals. There were three in the high street, one for each of the largest banks. She went to the one that served her own bank and found it to be dead. The power supply had been cut. The other two were the same, and now that she looked she saw that there were no lights on anywhere in the high street. ¡°Chikusho!¡± she muttered under her breath. Lily stared up at her in shock, then grinned. The sight of her daughter smiling cheered Samantha immensely and gave her new heart and hope. She reached down and stroked the woolly hat the little girl was wearing on her head.


    Back in the old days, phones had had their own power. You could still use them even if the power was cut everywhere else. Those days were long gone. No power these days meant no communications at all. ¡°Okay,¡± she said to herself. ¡°Plan b. We''ve got to find other people.¡±


    ¡°Uphill!¡± said Lily brightly.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Samantha. ¡°Uphill. There are two refugee camps in the area. Failand and Dundry. I think we should go to one of them. There''ll be food there, and medical people to look at your head. Communications. All I need is an internet link to the bank. Failand is closer...¡± She looked back the way they''d come. The water was still rising, she saw. Parts of the brick wall they''d walked along were now underwater. ¡°But Dundry is straight ahead. Uphill.¡± She took a moment to see what the idea felt like in her head, then nodded. ¡°Dundry it is. Let''s go for a little walk, Lily.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Samantha took her hand again and they continued along the high street to where the land rose ahead of them.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Stuart and Jessica Kerr saw the column of smoke rising ahead of them for several miles before they drove into the road containing Samantha''s house. Then they turned the corner and saw the building well ablaze, with flames rising thirty feet into the air. ¡°Is that her house?¡± asked Jessica.


    Stuart looked at the house numbers along the street. ¡°Yes,¡± he said as he stopped the car a safe distance away from it. ¡°Number three one nine. What the hell happened here?¡±


    The doors opened and they got out. ¡°Maybe she wasn''t here when it happened,¡±  said Jessica hopefully.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Stuart doubtfully. ¡°Neil Arndale said she was hoping to ride it out in her own home, but she might have been out at the time. Watching the flood or something.¡± He looked at his phone again. It still showed no signal. Around them, it began to grow brighter as the sun came out from behind the moon.


    ¡°Tyre tracks,¡± said Jessica, looking down at the slushy snow. ¡°One set of tracks arriving, two driving away. Maybe someone came to collect her.¡±


    ¡°And they just knew her house would be on fire?¡±


    ¡°Maybe they live locally and they saw it. Maybe they took her back to their house.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± conceded Stuart. He walked past the fire to see it from another angle, then looked down at the slushy snow. ¡°Footprints,¡± he cried. ¡°Bare footprints!¡±


    Jessica hurried over to see. ¡°Who goes around in bare feet at this time of year?¡±


    ¡°She was indoors,¡± mused Stuart. ¡°Maybe she just likes walking around in bare feet while indoors. When the fire started she just ran out of the house.¡±


    ¡°And didn''t take her car?¡± asked Jessica, looking back at the tyre tracks. ¡°Someone took it.¡±


    ¡°The footprints lead... That house has a broken window. She must have broken in to find something to put on her feet. Yes, footprints leaving, wearing shoes. Two sets of footprints.¡±


    ¡°Neil said she had a daughter,¡± said Jessica. ¡°Kumiko must have carried her here. Perhaps she was overcome by the smoke.¡±


    Stuart nodded thoughtfully, then went to the house and climbed carefully through the broken window. Jessica followed him. They went through into the back room. Jessica gasped with horror when she saw the tiny pants still wrapped up in duct tape. ¡°Dear God!¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Neil said she was only six,¡± said Stuart, equally horrified. ¡°The poor mite! They got out, that''s the important thing. They got away.¡±


    ¡°On foot. So, where would they have gone?¡±


    ¡°No phone signal. They couldn''t call for help. I''m guessing the nearest refugee camp. After an ordeal like that, any mother would want a doctor to take a look at her daughter. There''ll be doctors at the refugee camps.¡±


    ¡°Let''s go.¡±


    They left the house, got back in their car and set off along the street. They went as far as Sullivan Street, where Stuart pulled up. The road ahead of them was now under water to a depth of nearly two metres at its deepest part.


    ¡°I don¡¯t imagine they''ll have wanted to swim through that,¡± said Stuart. ¡°And left goes down to the coast. Well, I suppose this is the coast now. They must have turned right.¡±


    ¡°The nearest refugee camp in that direction is Failand,¡± said Jessica, looking at an old fashioned paper map.


    ¡°Failand it is then,¡± then Stuart.


    He drove forward, the car cutting its way through the shin deep water, then turned right. After a couple of dozen yards they were on dry tarmac again and they picked up speed as they left the small town behind and headed out into the countryside.

 Chapter Twenty Seven

    ¡°Frank Williams can¡¯t go into space,¡± said Max Harding, Mark Pigeon''s leading technical specialist apologetically.


    Ben stared at the image on his tablet. ¡°Why not?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Too heavy. We''ve looked at the technical specs of the Mercury capsules. Just bolting one onto the top of a Star Pigeon is a nightmare, by the way. Our rockets were never designed to carry something like that. Mark almost had a fit when he got your email. He thought it was an April Fools joke or something.¡±


    ¡°But it can be done?¡± asked Ben.


    ¡°As a purely intellectual exercise, yes. Probably. Whether it''s something a sane man would ever want to do is another matter. But it''s all academic, anyway. Frank Williams is too heavy.¡±


    ¡°I did explain that we intend to use a mass dampener, didn''t I?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you did. You also said it can only reduce mass by seventy six percent. No more, no less. We¡¯ve modelled stripping out everything we can from the capsule, leaving just the bare shell and the couch. We¡¯ve made life support and communications as minimal as we can. Add it all together, reduce it by seventy six percent and it''s still too heavy. The rocket will never make it to orbit.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps when you get your hands on the real capsule you¡¯ll find some more places you can save weight,¡± suggested Ben.


    ¡°Possibly,¡± conceded the other man, ¡°But it won''t be more than a kilo or two. We¡¯d need to save at least twenty kilos to send your man into space. The only way he''s going up is if we amputate one of his legs.¡±


    ¡°Is that twenty kilos before you turn on the mass dampener, or after?¡±


    ¡°Before. You need to either find a smaller man or a larger rocket.¡±


    Ben nodded. ¡°We do have a smaller man we could send up,¡± he said. ¡°Whether he''s twenty kilos smaller, I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it''s for the best,¡± said Max Harding philosophically. ¡°The whole idea''s insane. And if it goes wrong, if the rocket crashes and your man is killed, the bad publicity might mean the end of the whole company.¡±


    ¡°I promised you that no-one would know about the mission unless it¡¯s a success...¡± began Ben.


    ¡°People will find out! People always find out.¡±


    ¡°But if it''s a success, if your rocket plays a part in putting the moon back into its old orbit, I would imagine that the good publicity would be very good for you.¡±


    ¡°That''s a very big if, Ben. Towing entire worlds around like cars towing a caravan...¡±


    ¡°You know it''s possible. You saw what the Chinese did with their device.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and that¡¯s the only reason we¡¯re having this conversation.¡±


    ¡°If our other man weighs twenty kilos less...¡±


    ¡°The more less the better. I would prefer thirty kilos.¡±


    ¡°If he weighs that much less, will you let us launch him with your rocket?¡±


    ¡°We''d have to talk to the lawyers first. This is a legal nightmare...¡±


    ¡°Fuck the lawyers! Have you seen the projections of what the moon will do to us over the years to come? The decades, the centuries, if it''s left in its current orbit? They¡¯re talking about the end of modern civilisation. They''re talking about humanity thrown back to the middle ages. Go get a history book, go see what the fourteenth century was like. That''s what we''re talking about. Plague, slavery, the divine right of kings... it''s taken us six hundred years to claw our way out of that. We can''t allow ourselves to fall back because of lawyers!¡±


    ¡°Ben, I agree with you, but I don¡¯t make the rules. We have to do what we can in the world as it is. And we still don¡¯t know if the Americans will let you use their mass dampener yet.¡±


    ¡°They will, that''s the least of my worries. They''ve got as much to lose as anyone else.¡±


    ¡°They will, that''s the least of my worries. They''re good guys. They''d want to help even if they didn''t have as much to lose as anyone else. I just need you to do your part.¡±


    ¡°I will do what I can, my friend.¡± He leaned forward to touch something and the screen went dark.


    ¡°Frank will be disappointed,¡± said Karen, coming forward. ¡°I think he was quite looking forward to it.¡±


    Ben was in no mood for humour, though. ¡°Get them both in,¡± he said. ¡°I''ll explain it to them.¡± Karen nodded and left the room.


    Frank did indeed look disappointed, but the guilt was clear to see as well. ¡°I''m a bloody research scientist!¡± he said, staring down at his stomach, suddenly acutely aware of his muffin top. ¡°How was I supposed to know I¡¯d have to watch my weight?¡±


    ¡°It''s okay, Frank,¡± said Eddie, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. ¡°Nobody saw this coming.¡±


    ¡°I''m a fat slob!¡± said Frank, and the others were astonished to see tears in his eyes. ¡°Too many cakes, too many biscuits with my tea. Never enough exercise. I¡¯m a bloody scientist, not an athlete! How was I supposed to know?¡±


    ¡°You''re not fat,¡± said Karen. ¡°I''ve seen you naked, remember? It''s a small rocket, that''s all. Even Eddie may be too big for it.¡±


    ¡°How much do you weigh, Eddie?¡± asked Ben.


    "That day at the beach, I was seventy five kilos."


    Ben nodded. ¡°What about you Frank?¡±


    "Eighty nine kilos as of last night.¡± His face was pained with guilt as he said it.


    ¡°Max said we needed to save at least twenty kilos,¡± said Ben. ¡°Thirty if possible. Go weigh yourself now, Eddie. You were eating quite a lot in Martinique, you were probably carrying a few kilos in your stomach. If you¡¯re sixty nine kilos or under now, we''re good to go.¡±


    They all went to the lab together, where Eddie stood on the precision weighing scales which read out his weight to five significant digits. They all tensed up with disappointment. The display read over seventy three kilos. Eddie began getting undressed, and when he was standing in his underwear it read seventy two point eight. ¡°Does it have to be twenty kilos?¡± he asked. ¡°Sometimes they give it a margin for error.¡±


    ¡°The impression I got was that twenty was the absolute minimum,¡± said Ben grimly. ¡°When did you eat last?¡±


    ¡°I had a couple of sandwiches a couple of hours ago.¡±


    ¡°Don''t eat anything else today. Empty your bowels and weigh yourself again first thing in the morning. Don''t drink either. Doesn''t matter if you¡¯re a bit dehydrated. You can drink as much as you like once you¡¯re up there. I''m sure we can get you down to sixty nine kilos.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±


    ¡°How do you feel about this, Eddie? You volunteered to go up, but that was when you thought Frank was going up. You never thought you''d have to go through with it.¡±


    Eddie''s eyes were wide, but he nodded. ¡°I''m still up for it,¡± he said. ¡°I mean, it has to be me, doesn¡¯t it? There''s no-one else, unless the Americans want to send one of their men up.¡±


    "Theirs are also too heavy," said the older man. "My countrymen are rather fond of their barbecues, as you know. There is another option, though. We just send up the two mass dampeners. We tell the guys on the space station what to do. Talk them through it. I¡¯m pretty sure Mark Pigeon would be a lot happier that way. So would the Americans. I get the impression they¡¯re not at all happy with the idea of a foreigner taking their mass dampener into space.¡±


    ¡°And what if there¡¯s a problem? If there¡¯s a problem on the moon? The shuttle¡¯s communications gear was never designed to work over that kind of distance, and even if it does, they say all the lightning could screw up communications. We probably won''t be able to advise them from the ground.¡±


    ¡°There might not be a problem,¡± said Karen. ¡°It might go swimmingly.¡±


    ¡°But if there is, we can''t help them from down here if we can''t talk to them. Also, they''ve got to rearrange the whole thing. Turn it from a mass dampener to a mass amplifier, then back again. It''s a complicated procedure. No matter how carefully we explain it, they could screw it up in a dozen different ways.¡± He shook his head. ¡°There''s no two ways about it. If we''re going to do this, I have to be up there.¡±


    Ben nodded. ¡°If you¡¯re sure you really are willing to go ahead with this..."


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Then we''ll proceed as though you¡¯re safely under the weight limit. The plane to Cologne leaves from Leeds airport at eight tonight. The taxi¡¯s already coming to pick you up. Don''t eat or drink anything before you weigh yourself tomorrow morning. Empty your bladder and your bowels as often as you can. If you weigh in at sixty nine kilos or under, we¡¯re good. If not, we''ll have to have another conversation with Max.¡±


    ¡°People who are hungry and dehydrated don¡¯t think well,¡± pointed out Karen, though. ¡°If there¡¯s some kind of problem...¡±


    ¡°All he''s got to do is sit there,¡± Ben reminder her. ¡°He won''t be like the original Mercury astronauts. There aren''t going to be any manual controls. None at all. He won''t need his brain until he gets up there. Until then, he¡¯s an astrochimp.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°None taken,¡± said Eddie with a smile.


    None meant, Eddie,¡± said Ben seriously. ¡°This is an incredible thing you¡¯re doing. Whether you succeed or not, whether they let you go up or not, you¡¯re a hero. One day, they¡¯ll make one hell of a movie about you.¡±


    ¡°I really am sorry about this,¡± said Frank again, staring at Eddie. ¡°I feel like shit!¡±


    ¡°I haven''t done anything yet,¡± Eddie told him. ¡°I''m willing to go up, but so are you. If there was an Ariane eight on the launch pad, you''d be going up instead of me because you¡¯re way more qualified. If I''m a hero, then so are you.¡± Frank nodded gratefully.


    ¡°So,¡± said Ben to Eddie. ¡°Go pack a toothbrush. The taxi''ll be here any minute.¡± Eddie nodded and left the room.


    ¡°How are we doing finding a Mercury capsule, anyway?¡± Ben asked Karen. ¡°Be pretty funny if, after all this, none of them are still usable.¡±


    ¡°A lot of them aren''t,¡± Karen replied. ¡°They got put in museums, which have a nasty habit of cutting big holes in them so the visitors can see in better. The one on display at the Kennedy Space Centre is intact, though. It''s one of three that never went into space, which makes it ideal for us. The Americans seem willing to let us have it, so long as we can meet their conditions regarding the mass dampener.¡±


    ¡°Good. Keep up the good work. Promise them whatever you have to. We need that capsule!¡±


    ¡°They were hinting that they may still want one of their own people to go up in the capsule. They were seriously suggesting getting him under weight with liposuction."


    Ben gave a humourless laugh. "And if he dies from a fat embolism when he''s in space...?"


    "Yeah, but they don''t want to let the mass dampener out of their hands. They really, seriously, don''t want to let go of it."


    ¡°Do whatever you have to to sell it to them. This is too important to let American national pride get in the way.¡±


    She nodded and followed Eddie out of the room.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°Is there a Margaret Lewis here?¡± asked the RAF officer.


    Margaret stood and waved to him. He saw her and came marching over, weaving his way between the couple of hundred bedraggled refugees sitting on folding chairs and boxes that filled the hanger. Some of them were still eating packets of crisps and chocolate bars from the vending machines the RAF people had broken open for them, that being the only food available. Pretty much everything in the kitchens, except the packets of dried soup they''d already eaten, had been destroyed by the tsunami. More food had been promised, but no-one seemed sure how long it would be before the delivery truck arrived. At least clean water was no problem. The underground pipes had come through the crisis unscathed, and several people had already taken the opportunity to wash the salt out of their hair.


    Margaret¡¯s children and their spouses looked up as the officer arrived. Cathy was breast feeding Timmy while keeping a look out for anyone who might find it offensive, but everyone sitting nearby was carefully looking in another direction. The officer also carefully avoided looking at her and kept his attention fixed on Margaret. ¡°My name is Flying Officer Stewart. We have your husband on the line. He''s anxious to speak to you.¡±


    ¡°Paul!¡± She replied in delight, jumping to her feet. ¡°Is he okay?¡±


    ¡°If you''d like to come with me, ma''am, you can ask him yourself.¡±


    Margaret nodded. ¡°I''ll tell him you¡¯re all okay,¡± she said to the others.


    ¡°Tell him to take care up there,¡± said Richard.


    Margaret promised she would and then followed the officer across the huge room towards the giant doors. They were closed to keep the cold wind out, but the officer opened a smaller door to let her out, then followed after her.


    Outside, it was snowing again and she pulled her coat closer around herself against the cold. He led her across the tarmac towards another building whose lower windows had been broken by the wall of water that had crashed against it but which seemed otherwise undamaged. It looked old. At least a hundred years old, she thought. They''d built strongly back then. Not like nowadays when buildings had to be cheap and quick to put up.


    She saw a line of military men standing a couple of hundred yards away in a gap where the fence had been swept away by the tsunami. They were holding back a small crowd of locals who seemed intent on getting in, although not so much that they were willing to challenge the guns the guards were carrying. ¡°Trouble?¡± she asked.


    ¡°They think we have food and shelter. We don¡¯t, but they don''t believe us.¡±


    ¡°Some of them look injured.¡±


    ¡°Yes. They know we''ve got a doctor here, but there¡¯s not much he can do for that kind of injury except what they¡¯ve already done for themselves. Stop the bleeding and splint broken bones.¡±


    ¡°Do you have pain killers? Antibiotics?¡±


    ¡°Enough for our own personnel. Not enough for everyone in the area. They''d do better going to the refugee camps. They¡¯re set up to deal with large numbers of people.¡±


    ¡°Weren''t some of the camps swept away by the tsunami? There must be an awful lot of people out there whose homes were destroyed. They thought they were safe, above the twenty metre mark.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and they have my sympathy but there¡¯s nothing we can do for them.¡±


    He marched on, leaving Margaret stared at the shouting, angry people, with nothing now between them and her family but a thin line of soldiers. Then she hurried to catch the officer up.


    Inside the building, the ground floor had suffered water damage and had largely been abandoned except for a few armed guards to keep people away from sensitive areas containing equipment that, although ruined and useless, would still be useful to an enemy. The officer led her up the stairs to the first floor, though, where the sounds of activity could be heard. The officer opened a door and Margaret saw a group of men gathered around a man sitting at a desk on which an ancient piece of electronic machinery was humming to itself. It looked like the kind of radio she¡¯d seen in second world war films.


    ¡°Lucky we still had that,¡± the officer said. ¡°Nobody knew it was still here except one old caretaker who''s been working here for about fifty years. They dusted it off and found it still works. Amazing stroke of luck.¡±


    ¡°So long as there¡¯s someone on the other end, listening,¡± said Margaret.


    ¡°Right. They got in touch with a ham radio operator living in an area where the phones still work and got him to make a phone call to Northwood. They dug up a similar set from somewhere and bingo! We''re back in contact with the world.¡±


    One of the men in the room turned to look at them. A far more senior officer, Margaret thought, if his uniform was anything to go by. ¡°Margaret Lewis, Sir,¡± said Flying Officer Stewart.


    ¡°Thank you for coming,¡± the senior officer said, offering his hand. Margaret shook it. ¡°My name is Group Captain Arndale. If you''ll please take a seat, we''ll see if we can get your husband back on the line.¡±


    He gestured to a chair at the side of the room and Margaret sat in it. Flying Officer Stewart then gave her a little wave as he turned to leave. Margaret smiled back at him, then returned her attention to the ancient radio set.


    The operator was talking to someone, but the voice that issued from the speakers was so distorted and filled with static that she could barely make it out. The operator told the person on the other end that she was there, and the crackly voice told him to wait for a moment. A long time then passed during which nothing happened. A tense silence fell as everyone in the room listened for the hiss and crackle to resolve itself into a human voice again.


    Margaret stood and walked over to where a junior officer was tapping something on a tablet¡¯s virtual keyboard. He hurriedly blanked the screen as she approached. ¡°Sorry to disturb you,¡± she said. ¡°I know you must be busy. I just wondered, what''s going on out there? Out in the world, I mean?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know much,¡± he said apologetically. ¡°Since the tsunami, that thing¡¯s our only contact with the outside world. We¡¯ve only had news of London, really.¡±


    ¡°So what''s going on in London?¡±


    ¡°Everything seems to have pretty much ground to a halt. The tsunami swept right up the Thames and inundated pretty much the whole city. All business has stopped, all trade and traffic. There''s six million people doing nothing but trying to clean up the mess, get the city back in business. They might just succeed in time for the moon''s next close approach, when we''ll go through it all again.¡±


    ¡°But hopefully without a tsunami next time.¡±


    ¡°Hopefully, but they say Los Angeles is going to get a big earthquake every time the moon passes by. Maybe Denmark will also get an earthquake every time. Maybe we''ll get a tsunami every time.¡±


    ¡°They say we''ll have a super low tide next time, instead of a super high tide. They say we''ll almost be able to walk to Europe across the north sea.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but there¡¯ll be other super high tides. One perigee in four, they say. One every four months or so, and maybe a tsunami every time. Everything within fifty miles of the North Sea may be permanently uninhabitable.¡±


    ¡°That''ll do, Wilson,¡± said Arndale sharply, and Margaret apologised before returning to her seat. The Group Captain came over to her, though. ¡°We have your husband on the line,¡± he said. He gestured for her to approach the machine. ¡°Press that button to talk, release it to listen.¡± She nodded. ¡°Sorry about the quality, but they¡¯re patching it through half a dozen different systems to get through to us. They must be really anxious to keep your husband happy.¡±


    ¡°I can''t imagine why. I¡¯ve got no idea what he¡¯s doing up there at the moment. The last time we spoke, he said that all normal operations had stopped. They''re just doing basic housekeeping up there.¡±


    ¡°Well, there must be something big in the cards, although I''ll probably never find out what it is. Anyway, we''ll leave the room to give you some privacy.¡± He gestured for the other men in the room and they all quietly filed out, the last man closing the door behind him.


    Margaret sat in the chair and picked up the microphone. Crackles and static were coming from the speaker. She listened carefully but there were no voices in it. ¡°Hello?¡± she said into the microphone. Nothing happened, and she remembered she was supposed to push the button. She did so, then tried again.


    Silence fell while her finger was on the button, but the static returned when she released it. This time, though there was a familiar voice in it. ¡°Maggie?¡± she heard Paul saying. ¡°Is that you Mags?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s me,¡± she replied, vast relief sweeping over her. ¡°We''re all fine. Everyone here at Cranwell is fine.¡±


    ¡°Thank God!¡± Paul replied after a brief delay. The speed of light again. ¡°When I saw the tsunami on the news I almost freaked out! I was so worried! Hazel''s okay? And Richard?¡±


    ¡°They''re both fine. Cathy and Len as well. And Timmy. We got a bit wet when the wave hit but we¡¯re all fine.¡±


    ¡°Where are you now?¡±


    ¡°Still at Cranwell. We¡¯ve got the whole air force looking after us. We''re as safe here as anywhere.¡± I hope, she thought, remembering the hole in the fence and the soldiers holding the crowd back. ¡°So, what''s going on up there? Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°We''re fine, Mags. A bit busy at the moment. They want us to take apart part of the space station and attach it to one of the shuttles. Lots of cutting and welding. We''re attaching two things that were never meant to go together. Benny nearly had a fit when they told us! He''s normally so calm and reasonable, but when they told us what they wanted us to do he actually swore.¡± He laughed and Margaret laughed back, each of them simply pleased and relieved that the other was safe and well.


    They spoke for half an hour or so, until Group Captain Arndale knocked politely on the door and entered. ¡°I''m afraid we need the machine for Air Force business,¡± he said. ¡°We gave you as long as we could.¡±


    ¡°Thank you very much,¡± said Margaret. She spoke into the microphone again. ¡°They say I have to go now,¡± she said. ¡°Take care up there, Paul.¡±


    ¡°And you,¡± her husband replied. ¡°Give my love to the others. And please thank the Air Force people for giving us this chance to speak.¡±


    ¡°He''s right here, Paul, and he heard you.¡± She beamed at the Group Captain, who smiled back. ¡±Love you, Paul!¡±


    ¡°Love you right back, Mags! See you soon.¡±


    Margaret put the microphone down on the table and rose from the chair. ¡°Thank you so much, Group Captain.¡±


    ¡°Very glad we were able to help, Ma''am. Stewart will show you back to your family.¡± He gestured for the Flying Officer to enter. Margaret smiled to the Group Captain one last time, then followed the younger officer out of the room.


    ¡°I hope you know how privileged you are,¡± he said as they made their way back down the stairs. ¡°Pretty much the whole business of the air base was put on hold while you had your little chat.¡±


    ¡°Paul said something big was in the air,¡± she replied. ¡°I think he''s right.¡±


    ¡°So do I. The moon again, would be my guess. Like the Chinese. There''s a plan B in the wind.¡±


    ¡°And they want him able to concentrate on his work, not worrying about us. I hope they¡¯re not going to expect him to risk his life. With so much at stake, they might think the lives of a few astronauts is a small price to pay.¡±


    The idea hadn''t really occurred to her until she heard the words coming out of her mouth, but once she''d said it she found herself thinking that it made an awful kind of sense. Her stomach suddenly knotted up with anxiety.


    ¡°I''m sure he¡¯ll be fine, Ma''am.¡±


    Margaret couldn''t get the idea out of her head, though, and fretted all the way back to the hanger. She didn''t notice that the crowd being held back by the guards had grown, therefore, and was becoming much more agitated. The Flying Officer did notice, though, and there was a frown of worry on his face as he escorted Margaret the rest of the way back to her family.

 Chapter Twenty Eight

    ¡°Dear God!¡± gasped Jessica.


    She and Stuart had left their car parked beside a crowd of ambulances and police cars and walked the rest of the way to Failand refugee camp. The authorities had taken over a group of farm meadows and covered them with tents, caravans, portacabins, whatever they could find that people could use to find shelter from the elements. It seemed there still weren''t enough, though, because crowds of people milled around between them, trying to keep warm in the stiff breeze. Fires had been lit here and there, some in braziers, others just piles of anything that would burn while families crowded around them, holding coats and blankets tight around themselves.


    Paramedics wandered between them, looking for the injured, but most of those in need of medical attention were standing in a queue leading up to the medical tent where staff drafted from the local hospital were waiting to see them. Other queues went to the food tent, a small cluster of portaloos and to a tent where people were simply giving their names and former addresses to bored looking men with tablet computers in the hope that relatives were trying to find them. The air was filled with the crying of babies and the solemn muttering of people trying to keep each other¡¯s spirits up. An atmosphere of hopelessness and despair hung over the whole camp, and yet children were chasing each other, laughing and joking, around the tents, as if they thought they were simply on holiday.


    ¡°There must be thousands of people here,¡± Jessica muttered. ¡°And this is just one camp. How many camps like this are there? Dozens? Hundreds?¡±


    ¡°If there are five million displaced people, then about a thousand camps this size,¡± said Stuart flatly. He sounded uncaring, but Jessica knew him well enough to know he was struggling to keep powerful emotions in check.


    ¡°I had no idea it was this bad! How can they possibly care for this many people?¡±


    ¡°They can¡¯t. There''s going to be disease, starvation... When they start figuring that out, there¡¯s going to be trouble.¡±


    ¡°How do we find Samantha Kumiko among this many people? That''s if she''s here at all.¡±


    ¡°The registration tent,¡± said Stuart, pointing. Jessica nodded and they started walking across the long, hummocky grass.


    ¡°Back of the queue!¡± shouted a bearded man angrily as Stuart and Jessica moved past. He left his place on the queue and squared up to Stuart. ¡°No pushing in!¡±


    ¡°We''re not here to register,¡± said Stuart calmly. ¡°We¡¯re looking for someone. A Japanese woman and her six year old daughter. Have you seen her?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the bearded man replied, sounding a little mollified. ¡°I hope you find them.¡± He returned to where a woman had been keeping his place for him, but others in the queue were looking at them with resentment and hostility. They must still have homes, they were thinking. They can leave this place and go back to their comfy living room and have a hot, cooked dinner while watching some stupid quiz show on television. They''ll soon forget about us still stuck here, freezing in our tents. Jessica took hold of Stuart''s hand, squeezing tightly, and the two of them moved hurriedly on.


    Reaching the tent, they waved to attract the attention of one of the people typing names and contact details into tablets. ¡°There¡¯s a queue...¡± one of them said.


    ¡°We''re looking for someone,¡± Stuart interrupted him.


    He gave Samantha¡¯s name and description, gave her address, and the man looked it up on his tablet. ¡°Nobody''s registered by that name,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°What about the other camps?¡± asked Jessica.


    ¡°We''re still working on networking the information. We''ve got someone writing an app right now. Come back tomorrow and we should be able to help you.¡±


    ¡°We drove here,¡± Jessica said to Stuart as they moved away in disappointment. ¡°She''s on foot. Maybe she''s still on her way.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe she went to the medical tent first,¡± said Stuart. ¡°Their house burned down. They might be injured.¡± Jessica nodded and they made their way towards it.


    They passed through the centre of the refugee camp to get to it. A fine rain was starting to fall, stinging their faces as it was driven by the wind. Those without tents of their own started begging for shelter. Some were taken in, despite the fact that there was barely enough room for those already inside. Others were denied entry and wandered off in search of someone more sympathetic.


    ¡°We''ve got a spare room,¡± Jessica said to Stuart in a low voice. ¡°We could take someone in.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know anything about these people,¡± her husband replied. ¡°You''re right, we should take someone in, but it should be someone we know. Not some stranger. How about we take in Samantha and her daughter when we find them?¡±


    ¡°What it we don¡¯t find them? Are we going to let a perfectly good room go empty when there are people living like this?¡±


    ¡°This is just temporary. Every large city has thousands of empty buildings. Office blocks, warehouses, factories... It''ll take time to convert them for accommodation, that''s all. These camps are just places where people can find food and shelter in the meantime.¡±


    ¡°But how long will the meantime be? Look at these people! Look at that old couple over there. Over ninety at least, out in the open and shivering with the cold. They could be cosy and warm in our spare room right now.¡± Even as she spoke, though, a young woman emerged from a small caravan and beckoned to the elderly couple. They followed her gratefully in. ¡°There''s still plenty of others,¡± Jessica said. ¡°Soon, having an empty room will be as socially unacceptable as drunk driving.¡±


    ¡°I''m sure you¡¯re right, but we have to be careful. If we can''t find Samantha Kumiko we¡¯ll talk about it again. In the meantime, let''s focus on what we¡¯re here for.¡±


    Most of the people in the medical tent turned out to be parents of children with snuffly noses, and the medical staff were visibly annoyed. One nurse had been detailed to turn such people away so that the doctors could concentrate on those who were genuinely injured or unwell. Armed soldiers were standing guard over the medical supplies and an ambulance was standing by for anyone who needed treatment that only a proper hospital could provide. Stuart and Jessica looked around for anyone who matched Samantha Kumiko''s description, then approached a doctor who was tapping away at a tablet. ¡°Excuse me,¡± Stuart said to him. ¡°We''re looking for someone. Have you treated a Japanese woman? About forty years old?¡±


    ¡°We''ve treated lots of people,¡± he replied without looking up. ¡°What were her injuries?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know if she''s hurt. We just wondered if she''d been here.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her. Sorry.¡±


    They tried a nurse next, in charge of a cooling cabinet containing donated blood. She gave the same reply, but when they tried talking to a doctor who was examining a patient a nurse came up to them and asked them to leave him alone. ¡°We''re looking for someone...¡± Jessica began.


    ¡°Try the registration tent,¡± she replied. ¡°You can''t bother the doctors.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve just come from there,¡± said Stuart. ¡°She might have inhaled smoke. Her house burned down.¡±


    ¡°I don''t think we''ve had anyone like that. Almost all our patients are suffering from exposure and shock. Now please go away and let us get on with our work.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± said Jessica as they left in disappointment. ¡°What do we do now?¡±


    ¡°Just look around,¡± Stuart replied. ¡°Circulate, talk to people. Ask if anyone''s seen her. If we have no luck after an hour or two, we try another camp. She may have gone to Winford or Dundry. She may even have been taken in by friends. Try Neil Arndale again. She may have gotten in touch with him.¡±


    Jessica pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled his number, but a message flashed up on the screen telling her that the network was still overloaded. She showed it to him, and he nodded glumly. ¡°Keep trying,¡± he told her. ¡°The lines have to clear eventually."


    She nodded, and Stuart went up to the nearest refugee, a man in his thirties trudging across the hummocky grass. His head was down and he had a hopeless look in his eyes. ¡°Excuse me, Sir. We''re looking for someone. I wonder if you can tell us if you''ve seen her...¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Samantha had had to carry Lily most of the way as the little girl''s legs got tired, but finally they saw Dundry refugee camp ahead of them and she gave a sigh of relief. ¡°Nearly there,¡± she said, just loud enough to hear. ¡°Soon we can have a nice sit down in a warm tent. Have something nice to eat.¡± Lily mumbled something under her breath. She sounded almost asleep.


    There were police cars parked alongside the ambulances at the edge of the big field and she considered reporting the attack on herself and Lily, the burning down of her house, but then she saw two policemen trying to break up a fight between half a dozen young men. The two policemen were clearly out of their depth, unable to contain the situation. One of them actually got punched to the ground, and neither of them made any attempt to arrest the perpetrator or call for reinforcements. They couldn''t call for help because there was no help to be had, she realised. All the other policemen were tied up in similar situations. Too many people needing help, not nearly enough people to give it. They wouldn''t be interested in her problems, she decided. Just keeping order in the camp was as much as they could hope to achieve.


    Thousands of tents and caravans, and there were still huge crowds of people just sitting around in the open, shivering in the cold wind. All her hopes of finding a warm tent evaporated, leaving her feeling sick with despair. She''d tried so hard to keep her daughter safe and happy during the time of crisis. She''d thought they were exceptionally fortunate, that they¡¯d be able to ride it out in their own home, safe and well fed. Instead, they were now here, among the most unfortunate and wretched. How low had they fallen that even a tent over their heads would have seemed like a luxury? I''ve failed my daughter! she thought, tears in her eyes. I''m so sorry, Lily! I tried so hard...


    She got hold of herself with an effort. I have to be strong, she told herself. Lily is depending on me. We need food, water and shelter, so let''s go find them. She squared herself up and walked forward, into the vast, disorganised throng of humanity.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    There were queues, she saw, and she joined one, not knowing what was at the end of it. Something that these people wanted, apparently, and that meant that she wanted it as well. She¡¯d thought that the person at the back of the queue was a woman, because of the long hair, but then the head turned to look at her and her heart froze when she saw that it was a man with an untidy black beard and a self rolled cigarette between his lips. He looked her up and down with eyes that widened with appreciation. He took one hand from a pocket to remove the cigarette from his lips while he blew smoke, then replaced it and took a long drag, the tip glowing red. Samantha¡¯s heart was hammering with fear but she made herself stand firm and ignore him. She looked down at Lily to draw the man''s attention to the fact that she had a daughter. That was usually enough to make them lose interest.


    Not him, though. ¡°Hi,¡± he said. He held his cigarette out to her. She shook her head politely. ¡°Name''s Dave.¡±


    ¡°Samantha,¡± replied Samantha, not knowing whether it would be worse to encourage him by  engaging with him or possibly anger him by snubbing him. She wondered whether she dared offend him by leaving and looking for another queue to join. Hopefully, if she kept her answers short, the conversation would just peter out. Her thighs chose that moment to ache, reminding her of the violation she¡¯d suffered such a short time before. Her body felt like a house whose front door had been kicked open by burglars and who had left it open after they''d left, so that now anyone who wanted could just walk in any time they wanted. This man''s apparent sexual interest in her terrified her.


    ¡°Bit like Glastonbury, ain¡¯t it?¡± said Dave, waving his hand to indicate the refugee camp. ¡°Keep expecting the music to start. Got the best blow job I ever had at Glastonbury a few years back. I¡¯m here with my mates, Kev and Briny. You with anyone?¡±


    She shook her head, wishing he''d just turn to face forward in the queue and forget about her.


    ¡°Where''s the little one''s daddy?¡±


    ¡°He''s not with us.¡±


    ¡°He joining you later?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s just me and my daughter.¡±


    He studied her again. ¡°Where you staying? You got a place yet?¡±


    Why are you asking me these questions? she asked herself, although she could make a pretty good guess. She knew she was still good looking for her age, and now he knew she was alone, without a man to protect her. I should have just kept my mouth shut, she chided herself, but answering questions was just polite, and polite behaviour had been drilled into her so deeply, all her life, that it was an impossible habit to break, no matter what the circumstances.


    Dave took her silence as an answer. ¡°We got a tent of our own. We got room for one more if you need a place.¡±


    Samantha opened her mouth to say they were fine, but stopped herself. Could she afford to turn down an offer like that? She would hate it, she would be in constant terror, but she had to think of Lily. If the only way to find shelter was to share a tent with three strange men... No, she told herself firmly. She''d find someone else to share with. A nice family. A married man and a nice wife who¡¯d make her feel safe. Maybe even a child or two that Lily could play with. Then she looked around at the camp again, though. So many people standing or sitting in the open, their coats held tightly closed in an attempt to keep out the cold. If people willing to share were common, why were there so many unable to find them? I''ve failed her once already, she told herself firmly. I can''t fail her again. She had to swallow her pride, conquer her fear, and do what was best for her daughter. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said therefore. ¡°That''s very kind of you.¡±


    He smiled, showing yellow teeth stained with nicotine. ¡°So, who''s the kid?¡±


    ¡°Lily. My daughter.¡± Lily, hearing her name, opened her eyes and squirmed around to look at Dave. She was getting a bit heavy so Samantha put her down. ¡°So, what''s this queue for?¡±


    ¡°You don''t know?¡±


    ¡°No. I thought, if I¡¯m going to be just standing around anyway, I might as well be standing in a queue. There¡¯s bound to be something useful at the end of it.¡±


    ¡°It''s the registration queue. We give ¡®em our names and addresses in case there¡¯s people looking for us. I''m here so we can get our dole money.¡±


    ¡°You have to pay for food here?¡± asked Samantha in sudden fear. ¡°I haven''t got any money! I lost all my cards!¡±


    ¡°Food''s free,¡± Dave replied, grinning again. ¡°Other stuff ain¡¯t. You see that guy over there?¡± He nodded towards a man wearing a trench coat talking to two teenage boys. ¡°That''s our dealer. Oh, don¡¯t worry!¡± he said, seeing the look of shock on Samantha''s face. ¡°We won''t smoke it in the tent. Not where your little kid can see. We''ll go outside. I''ll make sure the others understand.¡±


    ¡°That''s very considerate,¡± said Samantha drily. ¡°Are there any bank terminals around here? I just need to get in touch with a bank and I can get a new card. Then I can buy whatever I need. Food, a phone, a car...¡± She stared around at the tents and the milling crowds of people as if a terminal might have sprung up out of the ground.


    ¡°Got money then, have you? Lots of people here have got money. Doesn''t do ¡®em any good, though. Anything you want to buy, someone''s bought it already.¡±


    ¡°That sounds about right.¡± She was hungry, she realised, and if she was, then Lily must be as well. She swung the knapsack off her back and rooted around in it until she found the tin of biscuits. ¡°Have some of these,¡± she said, opening it and offering it to her daughter. ¡°We''ll find some proper food later.¡± Lily selected a bourbon cream and nibbled it unenthusiastically. Samantha picked out half a dozen more and stuffed them in the pocket of the little girl¡¯s coat. She then offered the tin to Dave.


    He shook his head. ¡°Reckon you need that for you and your kid,¡± he said. ¡°I''m not taking food from a kid.¡±


    Samantha smiled, and was surprised to find herself warming to him. Maybe he''s not so bad, she thought, closing the tin and putting it back. Maybe I could have done worse.


    Dave looked up at the moon, looming huge overhead. A widening crescent, rimmed with fire, as the sun gradually moved away from it. ¡°Ain¡¯t that something,¡± he said. ¡°Who''d have thought I''d live to see something like that.¡±


    ¡°I could have done without seeing it,¡± said Samantha.


    ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean. They say there was a tsunami on the east coast.¡±


    ¡°A what?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a tsunami! The whole eastern half of England washed away like sandcastles. They say it''s worse in Japan, though. They had three tsunamis over there. Briny¡¯s got a radio and they were saying it on the news. And a whole bunch of Japanese volcanoes erupted, all at the same time. There''s not much left of the country they say, so I suppose we got off lucky over here.¡±


    ¡°Always important to keep a sense of perspective,¡± said Samantha. ¡°No matter how badly off you are, there¡¯s always someone who''s worse.¡±


    ¡°Right. At least we don''t have volcanoes in this country. But then, they also said we don''t get earthquakes in this country, and you know what happened in Scotland. Right?¡±


    Do I want to know? Samantha asked herself. I don''t want to know. Too many disasters. Disaster piled on disaster, and her own personal disasters to cope with as well. She couldn¡¯t handle any more. Change the subject, quick.


    ¡°So, did you use to live around here?¡± God! she thought. What a stupid question to ask! What was I thinking?


    Dave didn''t seem to think it was a stupid question, though. Indeed, he seemed to give it some careful thought while he took one last, long drag on his cigarette before dropping the stub and grinding it under his heel. ¡°Claverham,¡± he said. ¡°Worked in a sausage factory for a while, God, but that was bad! You ever see what goes into a sausage? Almost turned me vegetarian, it did.¡±


    The man chatted away about his former life in Claverham while Samantha barely listened, just nodding in the right places. The queue slowly moved forward and more people joined it behind them. It took nearly two hours for them to reach the tent, by which time Samantha thoughts she would probably have known Dave better then his own mother if she¡¯d been paying attention. Suddenly, though, Dave was standing in front of the man with the tablet computer, who was asking for his name. ¡°Dave Champion,¡± he replied. ¡°Two two one Blueberry Drive, Claverham. CL three, five GH. My phone number is oh oh three three four, two nine nine eight nine oh seven.¡± He waited while the man typed it in. ¡°I¡¯m with two mates. Kev Warner and Brian Deepwater. I''ve got their addresses and phone numbers. Former addresses, I mean.¡± He searched around in his pockets until he found a scrap of paper. ¡°Here we are...¡±


    Samantha waited while he gave the addresses and post codes of his two friends. ¡°So, where do we pick up our dole money?¡± he then asked.


    ¡°I expect it''ll be sent to your bank account, as usual,¡± the man replied. ¡°As soon as the financial system gets sorted out.¡±


    ¡°I was hoping for cash. You see a cash machine around here? What good¡¯s a bank account here, mate?¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry, I can''t help you. Move along, please.¡±


    ¡°Bloody useless piece of shite!¡± Dave glared at the man, then moved away. Samantha was relieved to see him stop a short distance away, though, and wait for her.


    The man with the tablet looked up at her and Samantha gave her name and address. ¡°Is there a phone I can use somewhere?¡± she asked. ¡°I need to call someone.¡±


    ¡°Phone lines are still clogged up,¡± the man replied. ¡°Internet''s the same. Just keep trying, maybe you''ll get lucky.¡±


    ¡°I don''t have a phone. That''s why I was hoping to borrow one.¡±


    He stared up at her. These days, nor having a phone was like not having shoes. ¡°I''m sorry,¡± he said, then beckoned the next person forward.


    ¡°Do you have any way of communicating with people?¡± she pressed. ¡°A radio? Something like that. I need to contact Neil Arndale of Bristol University.¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry,¡± the man repeated. ¡°I''m sure the phone lines will clear soon, and someone will let you borrow their phone. Please move along now.¡±


    Samantha moved away in defeat, and Dave moved over to join her. ¡°Your husband?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Just a work colleague. I was hoping he could help me out.¡±


    ¡°I''ve got a phone. I''ll keep checking, see if the lines clear. If they do, you can call him on it.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. You''re very kind.¡±


    ¡°Got to be, haven''t you? Times like these. Come on, I''ll introduce you to the others. We''ve got some food as well. Just cold pork pies and crisps, but it''ll fill you up, you and the little one. Everything looks better on a full belly.¡±


    Samantha would have felt more grateful towards him if she hadn''t known what he would be wanting in return. She wouldn''t be able to refuse him, she knew. They needed a place to sleep, somewhere with a roof over their heads, even if it was only a tent. Her biggest concern was where Lily would be when it happened. She knew she wouldn''t trust strangers to look after her. That meant keeping her close by, in the tent, while Dave was having his way with her. Was it possible he wouldn¡¯t want to sleep with her? Was she misjudging him? Maybe her recent ordeal was colouring her opinions of all men, everywhere. She would just have to wait and see.


    They joined the queue for the portaloos first and spent another two hours waiting to answer their calls of nature. Some people didn''t bother queuing, and she gently turned Lily''s head when she saw a man squatting behind a large portacabin. Dave looked as though he might have been tempted to do the same, but the presence of a female associate deterred him and he waited in visibly growing discomfort until they reached the head of the queue. Once they got there, though, the stench coming from the cubicles almost made her throw up. There was human waste smeared everywhere and puddles of urine on the floor. Samantha took Lily inside and closed the door behind them. ¡°Just close your eyes, Baby,¡± she said as she helped her out of her clothes.


    ¡°I can''t close my nose!¡± The little girl complained.


    They did what they had to do as quickly as possible, then left to find Dave still waiting for them. ¡°They say you can judge a society by the state of their toilets,¡± he said. ¡°This place says nothing good about England.¡±


    Samantha agreed. It was beginning to grow dark. She looked up and saw the huge, bloated moon still high in the sky, now half full as the sun dropped towards the horizon. On the dark side, she could see tiny pinpoints of red. Magma geysers bursting through the remaining solid crust. If the Earth was being tormented by the moon''s gravity, she could only imagine what the Earth¡¯s gravity was doing to the moon during the close approach. She shuddered and looked away.


    She felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as Dave led them to his tent. She guessed which one it was while it was still fifty yards away from the two men, about Dave''s age, lounging around outside it, one with five days growth of stubble and a ponytail, the other thin as a rake and nearly two metres tall. Sure enough they greeted him with ribald comments as they drew close, and then, to Samantha''s astonishment, the stubby one put his arms around Dave¡¯s neck and gave him a passionate kiss on the mouth.


    ¡°Dave boy!¡± said the other as soon as the stubbly man released him. ¡°Been missing you! Problem, mate?¡±


    ¡°Just very long queues,¡± Dave replied, giving him a quick peck on the mouth. ¡°Sam, this is Kev, and the beanpole''s Briny. Boys, meet Samantha and Lily. I said they could crash with us, they''ve got nowhere else to go. That okay?¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡± said Kevin. ¡°Welcome to the nuthouse, Sam. Hope you don''t mind shacking up with three gayboys. Some people still have a problem with that, apparently.¡±


    ¡°Not Sam,¡± said Dave confidently. ¡°That right, Sam?¡±


    ¡°Not at all!¡± cried Samantha, almost laughing and crying at the same time with relief. ¡°Thank you so much, boys! Thank you so much!¡±


    She put her arms around all three of them at once and gave them a hug and they hugged her back while Lily stared happily up at them, grinning all over her face.

 Chapter Twenty Nine

    Eddie puffed with effort as he ran on the treadmill, trying to ignore the discomfort of the mouthpiece strapped to his face, collecting his exhaled breath for analysis. Sweat trickled down his bare chest and soaked his shorts, while the running shoes they''d given him chafed at his ankles. One of the electrodes strapped to his chest came loose and dangled around his waist. A pretty nurse came over and stuck it back in place beside the other three.


    The tests had begun virtually the moment he''d gotten off the plane. They wanted to know whether he was fit enough to survive a six gee launch and all the other rigors of an extended stay in space. Nobody he''d met so far was happy with the idea of sending him up with so little preparation. He''d seen nothing but scowls and frowns since arriving at the astronaut training facility in Cologne, or perhaps that was just Germans, he thought with amusement. It was said that they had a sense of humour, but so far he''d seen no evidence for it.


    The physical examination had been first. They''d made him strip naked while a group of half a dozen people, women as well as men, had prodded and poked at him with instruments to measure his muscle tone, his bone density, his fat percentage and other things he''d never heard of. He''d endured it stoically, even when some of the tests had turned out to be uncomfortably invasive, but then, to his relief, he''d been given the shorts so that he could endure the rest of the tests with some dignity. Since then, he''d donated samples of blood, and had been told that they''d also be wanting samples of pretty much every other kind of body fluid. They were going to give him a full body CAT scan, a brain scan, a kidney function test and probably other things he''d never heard of while they tried to assure themselves that he wasn''t going to kick the bucket the moment the Star Pigeon fired up its engines. First, though, he had to endure the lung function test, the real purpose of which, he was beginning to suspect, was to find out just how much he really wanted to go through with the space mission.


    He had a headache. It was caused by dehydration, he knew. He was perspiring heavily and had refused all offers of drink. He had to get his weight down! He was starting to think that he might be overdoing it, though. If the dehydration started to affect him, physically or even mentally, he knew that his examiners would seize upon it as a reason to declare him medically unfit and he couldn''t have that. Not with so much riding upon the success of his mission. He beckoned the nurse back, therefore, miming a drinking action with one hand, and she came across with a flask of water. ¡°Don¡¯t stop running!¡± she warned him in her sexy German accent. She then lifted the mask from his face and put the straw to his mouth. He sipped at the sugary water as he continued to run, just enough to wet his mouth and ease the worst of the headache. Then he gestured for her to take it away.


    It was another thirty minutes before they allowed him to stop and he leaned against the bar with relief as he tried to get his breath back. The nurse handed him a towel and he used it to wipe the sweat from his body. ¡°So, did I pass?¡± he asked. The doctor ignored him and typed something into his tablet. Eddie stepped off the machine and walked over to him.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said the doctor as he approached. ¡°Helga will show you to room twenty seven. Doctor Vogel is waiting to run some electrolyte tests on you.¡±


    ¡°I was wondering,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°You know why I have to go into space. You know how important this mission is. If one of these tests shows me to be in less than perfect health, would you really forbid me from going?¡±


    The doctor glanced up at him, then returned his attention to the tablet. ¡°Because you know how many people have died already,¡± Eddie continued. ¡°Thousands in this country alone. Millions all around the world. Who knows how many made homeless.¡±


    He thought back to what he''d seen on the flight over the north sea in the Cessna light aircraft, the low flying four seater being all that was required for the number of people flying at the moment. Almost all business and industry was taking a break. They were hunkering down, waiting for the moon to move on and hoping that some random catastrophe didn''t kill them in the meantime. The man sitting next to him in the cramped cabin, a large man in a business suit, had told him that even this flight had almost been cancelled, in which case Eddie supposed that the air force would have had to arrange a flight for him. A cramped seat in the back of an Atlas, perhaps, with no windows. Nothing to look at except the bare metal of the opposite wall.


    As soon as they were in the air, though, he''d found himself wishing there were no windows. The devastation caused by the tsunami had been horrifying! He¡¯d wanted to turn his face away, close the shutter to shut out the view, but each vision of destruction, worse than the one before, had transfixed him and he had only been able to stare in horror. He''d seen a ferry, similar to the one on which he''d first met Ben, maybe the very same one. It had been lying on its side miles above the high tide line, in the middle of what had once been a school playing field. Mud was piled up along one side like a snowdrift, while on its other side the powerfully swirling waters had eaten away at the topsoil, excavating a deep depression that he was pretty sure went all the way down to the bedrock. The mud was everywhere! Whether it was silt that had originally sat at the bottom of the sea or whether it was topsoil, torn loose from the dry land on which it had originally sat, he didn¡¯t know, but it covered everything from farmers fields to the streets and gardens of small towns so that it was hard to tell which had been which. And everywhere he had seen survivors, as small as ants from this height but all universally brown, head to foot, with mud. Wandering the devastated wasteland, seemingly as aimless as zombies in a horror movie or the dazed, half stunned survivors of a massive bombing attack.


    ¡°And if we fail to move the moon back into its proper orbit, this is only the beginning,¡± he continued. ¡°The damage to buildings and the Earth¡¯s crust will accumulate. The death toll next time, twenty nine days from now, won¡¯t be less. It''ll be greater! If we succeed in our mission, we could prevent that. Some people might think that the life of one man would be a small price to pay for that.¡± The doctor still failed to respond. ¡°What I''m trying to say,¡± said Eddie in growing exasperation, ¡°is that, if you declare me medically unfit to go, you might be saving one life, but you would be condemning countless others.¡±


    ¡°Those others are not my responsibility,¡± the doctor finally said. ¡°You are.¡±


    ¡°They are your responsibility if they die because of a decision you made. I''m willing to risk my life. I''d want to go up even if I knew that it was a suicide mission.¡±


    ¡°The greatest risk to you comes during the launch. You will not be saving anyone if you have a stroke while experiencing six times the force of the Earth¡¯s gravity.¡±


    ¡°But no matter how unfit I was, dying on the way up would still only be a possibility, not a certainty. Wouldn''t it be worth the risk of killing me if it also meant a chance of saving all those people?¡±


    ¡°If you have reason to think you will be found medically unfit, you should tell me now.¡±


    ¡°So far as I know, I''m in perfect health. I''m just saying that, if I should turn out to be just slightly short of some vital measurement, you might be saving an awful lot of lives by, by, well, by just fudging the figures a little, you know?¡±


    ¡°Your courage and determination do you credit , Mister Nash, but if your health is found to fall short of mission requirements, then we cannot recommend you for this mission. Whether our political masters decide to send you up anyway, against our recommendation, is, of course, another matter. All we can do is tell them what we find.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± said Eddie, encouraged. Of course they would send him up anyway no matter what the doctors found, he realised. They¡¯d tie him to an altar and cut out his heart if that was what it took to put things right, providing Ben, the British Prime Minister and others succeeded in convincing those who needed convincing that the mission had a chance of success. He was going up into space! The only thing that might prevent it was if he was still overweight. There would be no point in launching him if it was a mathematical certainty that he would fail to reach orbit. He began to regret his decision to have that sip of water. Let him become dehydrated, it didn¡¯t matter. They could launch him in a dehydration coma and it wouldn¡¯t matter so long as he reached orbit alive. The astronauts could give him as much water as he needed when he got there.


    ¡°Could I weigh myself?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You were weighed when you first arrived, just two hours ago,¡± the doctor replied.


    ¡°Could I weigh myself again? Please?¡±


    The doctor looked at him, then pointed to a pair of scales under the table. Eddie pulled them out and stepped onto them. Sixty nine point two kilogrammes. His heart sank in despair. He took off his running shoes and socks, then tried again. The scales gave the same weight. Eddie thought about taking his shorts off and weighing himself naked, but if the shoes hadn''t made a difference, the shorts wouldn¡¯t either. Two hundred grams! he thought, his mind racing. Can I sweat off another two hundred grams of water without collapsing? The doctor would know, but he wasn''t going to ask him. He would just lose as much water as he could and see how he felt.


    He put his shoes back on, therefore, and allowed the nurse to lead him away, to the next doctor waiting to do tests on him. Today would be non stop medical test after medical test, he knew, while tomorrow would be a crash course on how to use a spacesuit. There wasn''t time to teach him more than that. He just needed to know how not to do something stupid in a spacesuit that would get him killed. How to control the air system, the cooling system. How to take it off safely. He wouldn¡¯t have to worry about putting it on safely, he''d have about a dozen people helping him to do that.


    Still, at least the girls were pretty here. He smiled at the nurse accompanying him along the corridor, but she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, prim and professional. Just as well, Eddie mused. His headache was beginning to come back. He put all thoughts of romance out of his head, therefore, and mentally prepared himself for the ordeal to come.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    An RAF air base was never entirely quiet, Margaret discovered. Not even in the middle of the night. Some vehicles had somehow survived the tsunami, it appeared, and they seemed to be forever driving from one place to another, or else just standing in one spot with the engine idling while the sounds of conversation came from nearby. None of the air base personnel seemed to be getting any sleep, by the sound of it, and it was keeping the civilians from getting any asleep either, except for one man snoring loudly and contentedly on the other side of the hanger.


    What were they doing out there? she wondered. They''d be wanting to get communications up and running again, of course, but she imagined that that would be accomplished by a couple of pimply faced computer geeks discussing the latest computer games while stripping down and drying out circuit boards. The sounds outside sounded as though they were being made by soldiers, or at least by beefy, physical men of some kind. Was it to do with the hole in the perimeter fence? She thought about asking one of her fellow refugees what they thought, but they were all trying to get some sleep and probably wouldn¡¯t appreciate being woken the rest of the way up. She lay still in the coarse, woollen blankets the airmen had found somewhere for the civilians, therefore, and allowed the sounds of activity from outside to wash over her as if it were the crashing of waves against rocks; a sound that had always sent her quickly to sleep during her holidays in Scotland.


    Sleep didn''t come, though. The sounds from outside were too distracting. Her brain insisted on trying to deduce what was going on out there. After a while, though, she had the sense that the quality of the sounds from outside had changed. The voices sounded more urgent, almost worried, and it brought her back to full wakefulness with a twinge of anxiety. Several people in the hanger had woken, she realised, or perhaps, like her, they¡¯d never been fully asleep. There was a conversation going on somewhere, their voices hushed as if trying not to disturb other people but clearly audible to Margaret. A woman was asking someone what was going on. A man replied that he didn''t know.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Margaret got quietly to her feet, fully dressed, pulled on a coat and made her way carefully to the hanger doors, stepping past people wrapped in blankets, some of whom may have been genuinely asleep although some had open eyes and were watching curiously as she crept past. It got colder as she moved further from the electric heaters, and she pulled her coat closer around herself, buttoning it up with one hand. The huge main doors had a row of small windows in it. She went to one of them, stood up on tiptoe to bring her eyes level with the glass, and peered out.


    Huge searchlights had been set up, pointing outwards and, together with the huge, half full moon that was finally dropping towards the horizon, they were bright enough to illuminate the entire airfield as brightly as a heavily overcast winters day. Across the other side of the field, she saw what was causing the commotion. The crowd of people trying to get in through the gap in the fence had grown enormously. There must be a couple of thousand people out there now, she estimated, and virtually every military man had gone out with weapons to stop them. Even some of the civilian personnel were out there, she saw, lending their support to the effort even though they weren¡¯t carrying weapons.


    The dozen or so professional soldiers formed the first line of defence. They were standing in an arc around the breached section of fence, one every twenty metres or so, with parked vehicles between them. Ordinary cars for the most part, three in a line between one soldier and the next, but also trucks and fuel tankers and even a coach, painted green and with the logo of a football team on the side. Behind this first line stood the air force personnel, armed only with hand guns, and behind them stood the unarmed men, fidgeting and looking nervous. Margaret saw Captain McMillan holding a megaphone to his mouth, shouting something to the crowd, but the distance rendered the words almost unintelligible.


    Margaret became aware of a movement behind her and turned to see Richard standing there. He was tall enough to see out through the window easily and she heard him give a shocked intake of breath. ¡°That''s not good,¡± he said.


    ¡°I think they just want medical help,¡± Margaret said. ¡°People were probably injured by the tsunami. They must know we''ve got a doctor here. Medical supplies.¡±


    ¡°If I were in charge,¡± said Richard, ¡°I think I''d just give them what they want. They can''t keep them out. With everyone gathered in this spot, someone could easily cut a hole in the fence somewhere else. And are they really going to shoot them if they suddenly charge? I know that¡¯s what they¡¯re probably supposed to do, but how many people, even trained soldiers, would actually open fire on unarmed civilians?¡±


    ¡°Maybe they''ve sent for reinforcements,¡± said Margaret. ¡°There could be truckloads of soldiers on their way right now.¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. Every soldier and police officer in the country probably already has his hands full trying to maintain order out there. The country is under martial law in everything but name. If they had soldiers to spare, they''d probably send them to the refugee camps to keep all the angry people under control.¡±


    ¡°We''ve got angry people right here! And the army has to protect us, to keep Paul from worrying.¡±


    ¡°Paul has no way of knowing that we''re in trouble. You spoke to him just a few hours ago and told him that we were all safe and happy. He has to reason to think anything''s changed. All they have to do is make sure that no bad news reaches him. No, I think we''re on our own. There''s no reinforcements coming. Arndale has to do the best he can with what he has.¡±


    Margaret stared at him in alarm, then turned to look back out through the window. The crowd was becoming visibly agitated, with several people shouting and waving their hands angrily. She moved to another spot where the glass was slightly less grimy, giving her a better view. They were in a pretty poor way, she saw. Their clothes were caked with filth and muck and many of them were bandaged or limping. They looked as though they''d been through Hell! If she were with them with a family to protect, she thought she might be as desperate as they were, and willing to take any risk to get her loved ones the help they needed.


    ¡°So why doesn''t the crowd just charge them?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Because the sight of a man with a gun is scary, and you never know if his finger will tighten on the trigger, just as a reflex, a spasm of fear, when he sees a crowd of people rushing towards him. They''d have better luck if they just edge slowly forwards in a slow, unthreatening manner. One step at a time, with open hands raised in front of them. I would imagine it''s very hard to hurt a man holding his hands up in a ¡®I surrender¡¯ gesture, even if he is moving towards you.¡±


    ¡°Surely they''re trained to deal with situations like that, though, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Training is one thing. Actually having a living human being in front of you is another.¡±


    ¡°So what''s going to happen?¡±


    ¡°One of two things, I would imagine. Either the crowd will be intimidated by the guns and back away, or Arndale will be forced to make concessions of some kind, probably calling it a humanitarian gesture. Allow some of the injured in for treatment. Probably many more than they can possibly cope with. Just having them here, on the premises, will hopefully mollify the crowd, though. If I were in charge, I''d set up some kind of triage centre out there, near the hole in the fence. Put relatives of the most seriously injured civilians in charge of keeping the crowd under control. They''ll be locals, so hopefully the crowd will listen to them, and they''ll have an interest in keeping order in order to protect their injured loved ones.¡±


    ¡°Even if they do that, the crowd might still suspect them of withholding medical supplies. Keeping them for their own use.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but what''s the alternative? They can hardly let people in to search the place. There''s all kind of top secret stuff in here. We just have to hope that common sense prevails on both sides.¡±


    Margaret nodded. Some kind of negotiation did seem to be going on out there, by the look of it. McMillan was still talking through the megaphone, while occasionally talking to someone else on a hand held radio. Probably the Group Captain, up in the control tower where he''d have a good view of everything that was going on, she thought. A member of the crowd, a self designated spokesman, had come forward and was speaking with the soldiers. He was tiny from this distance, but it was clear to see that it was a man with natural authority. Possibly a council officer from one of the nearby towns. Someone whose position made him feel responsible for the people standing behind him and for the injured people further back, where the spotlights couldn¡¯t see them.


    It seemed to be going well, she thought. McMillan and the spokesman were standing close together, close enough to be able to speak in a normal tone of voice. Their body languages suggested a lessening of tension, and the soldiers were also looking less tense. She saw rifles dipping, no longer being aimed at people, while the crowd calmed, standing silently as they listened to their spokesman negotiating on their behalf. Margaret relaxed and thought about going back to her sleeping bag. She was very tired...


    From the back of the crowd a man came running forward, clearly in a state of great anxiety and distress. His appearance made the rest of the crowd press close around him. Sympathetic hands were put on his shoulders, words were spoken. The soldiers tensed up again and the guns were brought back up to the ready.


    ¡°Uh oh!¡± said Richard. ¡°I''m guessing someone just died.


    Other people were coming to the windows to see out as they became aware that something was going on. Margaret moved aside to let Cathy see through the window. ¡°I''m a doctor,¡± she heard someone say. ¡°Maybe I should go out to volunteer my services.¡±


    ¡°They know you''re a doctor,¡± a woman replied. ¡°They¡¯ll ask for you if they want you. I think we should just keep out of the way.¡±


    Margaret thought that was good advice. She found herself grateful that none of the hanger¡¯s lights were on. It meant that no-one in the crowd had any way of knowing there was anyone inside. She moved to the next window to look out again. An angry looking conversation was taking place between the crowd''s spokesman and Captain McMillan. She could imagine what was being said. He, or she, would still be alive if you¡¯d let us in sooner. How many more of us are you going to allow to die? Behind the spokesman, she saw a man raising a hand. There was something in it. Every soldier turned their weapons to aim at him. She heard a gunshot. The man in the crowd fell.


    She froze in horror, as did everyone around her. Outside, both the airbase personnel and the crowd tensed up in shock. McMillan shouted back at his men. The crowd pulled back in sudden fear and several people turned and ran back to the gap in the perimeter fence. The others halted as they overcame their initial shock and then reacted with anger, surging forward, only stopping when more shots were fired into the air ahead of them. One man ran over to the fallen man and dropped to his side. He shouted something to the spokesman but made no move to reach for whatever it was the fallen man had been holding. McMillan ran over to join him, as did the spokesman and a couple of other members of the crowd. McMillan shouted orders at them and two of them picked up the fallen man. McMillan led them to one of the cars that formed part of the makeshift barrier. He opened the door and the two members of the crowd placed the man gently inside. Then he got into the driver''s seat. The spokesman got in the back seat with the fallen man, and the car began driving back towards the airport buildings.


    ¡°He must still be alive,¡± said Richard with relief. ¡°Maybe they can still salvage something from this.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Len. ¡°The crowd¡¯s pulling back. They''re too afraid to try anything now.¡±


    ¡°They won''t charge the guns, if that¡¯s what you mean,¡± said Richard, ¡°but they can come through the fence anywhere they like, in their hundreds. They''ll be all over the airbase before we know what¡¯s happening. We¡¯ll be overrun. There''s maybe enough men to defend the main building, but nowhere else. Certainly not us. They¡¯ll leave us to the crowd¡¯s mercy. McMillan''s doing what he has to to defuse the situation. Maybe the crowd can still be placated if we show we care about them.¡±


    ¡°But if they treat one man, they¡¯ll have to treat all their injured!¡±


    ¡°Yes, they probably will. They would probably have had to anyway. That crowd was angry before. Now, they''re furious. If we''re lucky, though, they can still be reasoned with. Hopefully, getting treatment for their injured people really is all they want.¡±


    The car had arrived at one of the smaller of the airport buildings and its occupants jumped out as soon as its doors opened. They saw McMillan and the spokesman carrying the injured man towards the building. The door opened as they approached and a man helped them inside. Meanwhile, the rest of the crowd was milling around uncertainty. Watching the armed soldiers warily, who watched them back. It didn''t look as though anything more was going to happen over there until their respective leaders returned, though.


    It didn¡¯t take long. Five or ten minutes. Then the door opened again and McMillan and the spokesman emerged. They got back into the car and drove back to where the confrontation was taking place. The spokesman immediately gave orders to the crowd and a number of people were brought forward. Some lying on makeshift stretchers, others walking with the help of people supporting them under one arm. The injured people were helped into cars, which drove them back to the same building. The airbase''s medical centre, apparently. The rest of the crowd, meanwhile,  began to slowly edge its way back to the gap in the fence, followed at a respectful distance by the soldiers.


    Richard breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Well, that seems to be that,¡± he said. ¡°Sanity and good sense prevails, for now at least.¡±


    ¡°I wonder what he was holding,¡± said Len. ¡°A phone, you think? Recording the whole thing so he can upload it when this is all over and show the whole world what nasty people we are?¡±


    ¡°It looked like a gun to me,¡± said the man standing beside him.


    ¡°That other guy made no move to pick it up,¡± pointed out another.


    ¡°Because he''d have been shot dead if he¡¯d touched it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but I still think it was a phone. He thought he could pressure them into giving them what they wanted by showing the world pictures of British soldiers refusing care to injured men. That''s what I think, anyway.¡±


    ¡°If so, it''s pretty ironic that he became one of the injured men. I imagine the guy who shot him¡¯ll be in pretty hot water.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. Prosecuting soldiers who are just trying to do their duty is a dangerous habit to get into. Your enemies start conjuring up moral dilemmas to get them into. He''ll probably just say that he thought it was a gun, that he thought his life was in danger, and he¡¯ll get off with a slap on the wrist. Whatever happens next, though, the present crisis seems to be over.¡±


    Margaret though he was right. The crowd was dispersing, retreating back to the fence line, and the soldiers were watching them go. Most of the refugees in the hanger were also drifting back to their sleeping places and Margaret was reminded that it was about three in the morning. She was too full of stress to sleep any more that night, though, and she and Richard remained by the windows, watching the scene lit up by the spotlights, for some time longer.


    ¡°I''m going to offer them my help,¡± said the doctor. ¡°They must be bringing nearly a hundred people in. With that many people to treat, they''re going to need all the help they can get.¡±


    ¡°I''ll go with you,¡± said the woman standing beside him. His wife, Margaret presumed. ¡°They''ll need nurses too.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an ICU nurse, not an ER nurse...¡±


    ¡°And you''re a GP so don''t lecture me! Come on, let''s go.¡±


    ¡°I''m going with them,¡± Margaret told Richard. ¡°They¡¯ll probably need people to wash bandages and so on.¡±


    ¡°I''ll...¡± began Richard, but then he looked across as Cathy and Timmy. He couldn''t come with her. He had his own family to protect. ¡°I think you should stay here, where it''s safe.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be safe enough with all the soldiers to protect me. You take care of the others.¡±


    Richard looked torn, but he nodded. He hugged his mother and the others came forward to make her promise to be careful. She did so, and then she went after the doctor. A couple of others had had the same idea, and the five or them left the hanger together, stepping out into the cold night air.

 Chapter Thirty

    Lily was having a bad dream.


    Samantha was woken by her tossing and turning, the feel of her small body squirming against her own. She put her arms around her and hugged her tight. It wasn¡¯t hard to guess what she was dreaming of. ¡°It¡¯s okay, sweetie,¡± she whispered into her ear. ¡°You''re safe. You''re safe. I''ve got you.¡± She repeated it over and over until the soothing sound of her voice filtered into her sleeping brain and the little girl began to settle down.


    Anger surged within Samantha again at the memory of what had been done to her daughter, and so great was her love and concern that what had been done to herself was all but forgotten. She was determined to have her revenge on those men one day, when normal society had been restored and the police had time to deal with such things, but it was for Lily she wanted revenge, not so much for herself.


    ¡°Bad dreams?¡± said Dave quietly. He and the other two men were lying on the other side of the tent. Ken and Briny were sharing a double sleeping bag, but they hadn''t had sex that night out of consideration for the little girl. Samantha gathered that they took turns to be the one left out, which seemed to suit them very well. They were all still wearing their underwear, which she also gathered was for their benefit. She felt another wash of warmth for these men who had taken them in during their hour of need and who were showing such care for them.


    ¡°Our house burned down,¡± she replied quietly. That would do as an explanation. There was no need to tell them more than that. ¡°We had a close thing getting out.¡±


    ¡°Poor little mite. They say they bounce right back, though, when they''re that age. Give it a little while and she''ll have forgotten all about it.¡±


    Samantha doubted that, but she nodded anyway, forgetting that he couldn''t see it in the darkness. Her face and arms, outside the blankets, were cold and she pulled the coarse, woollen cloth up around her and around Lily until only the tops of their heads were left outside. Lily snuggled her face into the side of her neck and fell back into a deep sleep. Samantha breathed in the scent of the little girl''s hair and took comfort from it. They were safe. Lily was safe. She could sleep without fear.


    She was woken again by the sound of one of the men climbing out of his sleeping bag and stepping outside the tent. Light was filtering in through the thin nylon of the tent fabric, and there was a wash of brighter light as he opened the tent flap to leave. There was a voice speaking from a loudspeaker somewhere. ¡°George Kennedy, please report to the registration tent. Arthur Trent, please report to the registration tent. Jane Ross, please report to...¡±


    Lucky people, she thought. They must have had people coming here looking for them. Friends and relatives would be waiting to take them to spare rooms, or even garages, that would be hastily furnished to house them. She listened out for her own name, thinking that Neil Arndale might have come looking for her, but it didn''t come. She might have missed it. She wondered how many people were being looked for, and how long it would take for the announcer to reach the end of the list and start again from the beginning.


    She had an uncomfortably full bladder, but she lay there for a while longer until Lily woke naturally. They said sleep was healing, and she wanted her daughter to get as much of it as possible. Soon, though, all three men were up, and although they tried to be as quiet as possible they couldn''t help but wake the little girl up. ¡°Good morning,¡± she said to Samantha in a happy, cheerful voice.


    ¡°Good morning, Lily. How do you feel this morning?¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°You two hungry?¡± asked Dave. All three men had dressed while their two guests had still had their heads down. They were wrapped up in several layers against the cold, outside air, and Samantha felt a great reluctance to leave the warmth of her blankets. Her bladder was calling more urgently, though, and no doubt Lily''s was as well.


    ¡°Very,¡± she replied. ¡°First things first, though. Where do we go to answer a call of nature?¡±


    ¡°The nearest portaloos are about fifty yards away, but there¡¯s quite a queue. I''ll go with you. Come on, lads, let''s go outside while the ladies get dressed.¡±


    ¡°Time for a lift, anyway,¡± said Kev, who was rolling his own.


    ¡°Got any to spare?¡± asked Briny, staring disconsolately down at the few remaining scraps in his baccy pouch.


    ¡°Just about. Gonna have to see Joe later. He''ll have put his prices up again. Bloody profiteer!¡±


    There was a blast of freezing air as they left the tent, and then Samantha and Lily were alone. ¡°Come on, Lily. Time to get dressed.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t want to. I''m warm here.¡±


    ¡°I know, but we''ve got to get up.¡±


    She threw the blankets back and shivered as the cold air hit her bare arms and legs. Lily threw her arms around her chest. Her breath was coming out in puffs of white vapour. Samantha picked up the oversized clothes they''d taken from their neighbour''s house and began helping her into them.


    An hour later they were back from the portaloos, feeling much more comfortable but still shuddering in disgust at the state of them. ¡°I popped over to the food tent while you were in the queue,¡± said Kev, handing out foil covered slabs to each of them. ¡°MRE¡¯s. Meals ready to eat. Soldier food. Bit bland but it''ll fill you up.¡±


    ¡°Still got a couple of pork pies if you fancy something a bit more savoury,¡± added Briny. He was still nursing the roll up he''d begged from Kev. He had to keep relighting it every time he wanted a puff, but that had the virtue of making it last longer.


    ¡°We can''t impose upon your hospitality any longer,¡± said Samantha guiltily.


    ¡°No imposition,¡± said Briny, smiling and showing yellow teeth including an incisor that had a massive black cavity in the middle. ¡°Glad to share. Right, lads?¡±


    ¡°Right!¡± agreed Dave. ¡°Tuck in, Sam. You too, Lily.¡± He reached into a zip up bag and produced a paper bag from which he pulled two small pies. ¡°Best Melton Mowbray. You won''t find better.¡±


    It was impossible to refuse without causing offence, so Samantha took them with a smile and a guilty thank you. Lily devoured hers with a bright smile that delighted the three men, though, and seeing how happy it made them, Samantha ate hers also. God, but we were lucky to meet these people! she thought. They were making what could have been a continuation of their nightmare almost into an adventure.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to leave you now,¡± she then said. ¡°I have to find a working bank terminal. All I need is a new card and I can buy a new phone, get in touch with friends. If one of you will come with me, I want to repay you for your kindness. With money, I mean!¡± She hurriedly added, feeling herself go red. The three men laughed uproariously.


    ¡°No need for that, right lads?¡¯ said Dave. The others agreed with vigorous nods. ¡°A good deed is its own reward. Just meeting you, getting to meet your lovely little girl, is reward enough. You go, get back to your life, and God bless you. We''ll be going back to ours soon enough.¡±


    ¡°Right," agreed Briny. ¡°Reckon there''ll be a lot of rebuilding to be done. We''ll probably hire ourselves on with a building firm. Get some money coming in. Enough to rent a room somewhere with plenty left over for dope. What more could you want from life, eh?¡±


    ¡°I just want to give you something to repay you for your kindness.¡±


    ¡°You just get the little girl somewhere safe,¡± said Dave, smiling. ¡°Go find your friends, and the best of luck to you.¡±


    Samantha hugged all three of them in turn and kissed them on the cheek. ¡°Thank you so much! And good luck to you as well.¡±


    Lily insisted on hugging them as well, getting them to lean down so she could wrap her little arms around their necks, and then the three men stood by their tent as Samantha and her daughter walked away. ¡°If things don¡¯t work out, you just come on back,¡± Dave called out after them. ¡°We''ll be here for another night or two at least, probably. Be glad to see you.¡±


    ¡°And if you don¡¯t come back,¡± added Kev, ¡°That''ll mean it did work out for you, and that¡¯ll make us glad as well. So we¡¯ll be glad either way.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± added Briny. ¡°We''re always happy! That''s us, that is. Always happy.¡±


    Samantha and Lily turned to wave back at them one last time, and then Samantha walked away, fixing her attention on the people around them. They were alone again now. Lily once again had no-one but her to protect her. She kept a tight grip on the little girl''s hand, therefore, as they threaded their way past the tents and caravans and the milling crowds of dispossessed humanity.


    She went to the registration tent first. The queue of people lining up was much smaller, but there were still people entering the refugee camp. People who, like her, had thought that they were safe, that they had no need to flee their homes but who had suffered some calamity or other. Earthquakes, perhaps. The ground still trembled now and then, even though the moon was beginning to move away from the Earth. She looked to the west, but the moon had finally dropped below the horizon, and when it returned in around twelve hours it would no longer be the giant it had been the day before. Gradually, over the next two weeks, it would shrink, until it was once again the size they were used to. The same apparent diameter of the sun. And then it would begin to grow again as it moved in for its next close approach.


    At the other end of the tent was a young man with a microphone up in his hand, reading from a list of names and telling them to come here to meet the people who were looking for them. As she watched, a man with a young boy came forward to be met by another man who looked enough like him to be a brother. They embraced happily, and then the second man led his brother and his nephew to a waiting car. Samantha went forward to take his place.


    ¡°My name is Samantha Kumiko,¡± she said. ¡°I was here yesterday, to register. I was wondering if anyone¡¯s been asking after me.¡± She looked around, looking for Neil Arndale or any other face she recognised. There was a small crowd of relatives standing nearby, searching the crowds anxiously. One or two of them looked at her and Lily, but then they dismissed her from their attention and began searching the crowd again.


    The man glanced up at her, then looked down at a tablet on the table in front of him. ¡°Samantha, you say?¡± he said, tapping on the virtual keyboard.


    ¡°Kumiko,¡± Samantha replied, spelling it for him.


    He typed it in. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said. ¡°Nothing here.¡±


    Samantha nodded in disappointment. ¡°Well, thanks anyway,¡± she said. ¡°Just thought it worth a try, you know?¡± He nodded sympathetically and went back to reading out names into the  microphone.


    Samantha led Lily out of the camp as the man''s magnified voice called out the names of people lucky enough to have had people come here looking for them. She found herself getting very depressed. She''d thought she¡¯d made lots of good friends in this country. People who cared about her, who would want to make sure she and Lily were all right. Where were they when she needed them? Of course, losing her phone hadn''t helped. Losing your phone in the second half of the twenty first century was like losing your whole identity. And even if she¡¯d still had it, it would have been impossible to use yesterday, with both the phone system and the internet totally clogged up with people phoning their friends and relatives to make sure they were okay. Even so, you''d have thought that someone would have gone from camp to camp looking for her! Surely one of her friends would have cared enough to make the effort! It made her wonder. Just how many friends did she really have? Fewer than she¡¯d thought, that was for sure.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    She was gloomy and depressed as she threaded her way past the police cars and ambulances at the edge of the camp, therefore, and headed out into the countryside towards the nearest large town.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°This is the last one in the area,¡± said Stuart. ¡°Every other refugee camp, she¡¯d have had to go past one of these closer ones to get to it. No reason she''d do that.¡±


    ¡°If she went to a camp,¡± said Jessica. ¡°She may be staying with a friend. She may have rented a room somewhere. With the phones down, there''s no way to know.¡±


    ¡°The phones are more or less back now,¡± said Stuart, pulling his from a pocket and looking at the display on the screen. On a chance, he selected Samantha Kumiko¡¯s number again and pressed the call button. A message popped up on the screen. The number you have called cannot be reached. He turned the phone off and put it back in his pocket.


    ¡°She lost it in the fire, maybe,¡± said Jessica. ¡°Call Neil Arndale again. Maybe she borrowed a phone to call him.¡±


    Stuart did so, and a short conversation later he turned the phone off again. ¡°He still hasn''t heard from her,¡± he said. He looked out the car window at the crowded refugee camp. ¡°Oh well, let¡¯s go see If she''s here.¡±


    The doors opened and they got out. ¡°What if she''s not here?¡± asked Jessica.


    ¡°I don''t know. I¡¯d hate to go back to Ben in defeat. It''s a matter of pride now.¡±


    Jessica laughed. ¡°That is such a man thing to say!¡±


    ¡°I sense you don''t mean that in a good way.¡±


    ¡°The poor woman is lost and alone out there somewhere, with a little girl to look after, but it¡¯s your pride that¡¯s at stake.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know she''s lost and alone. Maybe she''s safe and snug in a friend¡¯s house enjoying a nice cup of tea while she watches soap operas on the telly.¡±


    ¡°Then why hasn¡¯t she called Neil Arndale?¡±


    ¡°I assume she has other friends. People we don''t know about.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. If she''s not here we can ask some of her other work colleagues from Bristol University. Let''s rule this place out first, though.¡± Stuart nodded and they walked towards the registration tent.


    The same man was still reading out names into the microphone as they approached. He looked up at them. ¡°We''re looking for someone,¡± said Stuart. ¡°Samantha Kumiko. Can you check to see if she''s here?¡±


    ¡°Samantha Kumiko?¡± The man said, though. ¡°Japanese looking woman, cute little girl?¡±


    ¡°That''s her!¡± said Jessica excitedly. ¡°You''ve seen her?¡±


    ¡°She was here just a few minutes ago. She was checking to see if anyone was looking for her.¡±


    They both looked around at the thronging crowds of people, searching for a female Japanese face. ¡°Do you know where she is now?¡± asked Stuart.


    ¡°She was leaving the camp. Heading into town, I assume. You just missed her.¡±


    Stuart swore under his breath. ¡°The nearest large town is Long Ashton. That must be where she''s going.¡±


    ¡°If she''s lost her phone, she''ll probably be looking for a bank terminal,¡± added Jessica. She pulled her own phone from her pocket and pulled up a map. ¡°Hmm. There''s quite a lot. The nearest is just a few hundred metres from here.¡±


    ¡°Don''t forget she doesn¡¯t have a phone to look it up on.¡±


    ¡°No, but she''s local to this area.¡±


    ¡°Even so, most people just use the one closest to their homes, when they need to use one at all. I''m guessing she''ll head back to where she lives, lived, and stop at the first terminal she passes on the way. If she doesn''t pass one, she''ll use the one nearest to where her house was.¡±


    ¡°Dundry is closer, and it has a bank terminal.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯d mean going in the opposite direction, away from where she used to live. And she may not know there¡¯s a terminal there.¡±


    They both looked at the map on Jessica''s phone. ¡°I''m guessing she''ll take this route here,¡± said Stuart, tracing the road with his finger while being careful not to touch the screen. ¡°It takes her along Weston Road. There are two terminals on that road alone.¡±


    ¡°And it takes her past Mole Street, which has a terminal on the corner, here. If she takes that route, that¡¯ll be the terminal she ends up using.¡±


    ¡°Let''s go then. If she''s on foot, we should get there first.¡±


    They went back to their car, which opened its doors for them. They got in, and Stuart told it where to go.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    The small town of Dundry looked almost normal, thought Samantha as they strolled along its single large street. Cars were driving up and down it. People were strolling along the pavements, going in and out of the half dozen shops. The local supermarket was almost empty of food, she saw as they passed it. There were three or four people inside nonetheless, staring at the almost empty shelves as they tried to decide whether packets of dried cake mix might make a good dinner. There were homeless people all over the place. Sitting at bus stops and on the street''s single bench. Standing in small groups in the town''s large open space with its small decorative pond. People either too proud to go to one of the refugee camps or who had spent the night there and had decided to try their luck elsewhere during the daytime.


    The bank terminal was working! she saw with excitement. There was a man standing by it, staring at the screen while he occasionally touched one or another of the buttons, shiny where the layer of paint that had covered them was almost worn away. Samantha went to stand behind him. The man ignored her and continued to use the terminal. He finished one operation and Samantha tensed up with excitement as she prepared to replace him before the screen, but the man pressed another button and began another operation. Samantha sighed with impatience and resigned herself to a short wait.


    The informal protocols of polite society forbade her from looking at the screen to see what he was doing, but she was aware, a couple of minutes later, that he''d completed his second operation and begun a third. She gripped Lily¡¯s hand tighter in frustration and took a step closer, hoping that the man would sense her proximity and realise that there was someone else waiting to use the machine. The man gave no sign that he was aware of her, though. ¡°Don¡¯t be impatient, Lily,¡± she said, a little louder than necessary. ¡°We just have to wait, that¡¯s all. He won''t be long.¡± Lily stared up at her in puzzlement.


    Finally, the man finished with the machine and moved away, giving Samantha a stern glare as he went. Samantha didn''t care. She just went to stand before the screen in relief. Since there was no-one within earshot she pressed the button to activate the machine''s voice control function. ¡°My name is Samantha Kumiko. I am a customer with the Eastern Metro bank.¡±


    ¡°Please look at the iris scanner,¡± the machine replied. Samantha did so and the machine scanned her eye. ¡°Identity confirmed,¡± it said. ¡°Please select an operation.¡±


    ¡°I need a replacement bank card for account number two, two, zero, five, two, seven, three, one, six, one .¡±


    ¡°Acknowledged. Your existing card will be deactivated.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Also, please deactivate my other cards and cancel all transactions made within the past twenty four hours.¡±


    ¡°There have been no transactions made in the past twenty four hours.¡± The criminals thought she was dead, Samantha thought. They didn''t think there was a hurry to empty her account, and now they''d lost their chance. The thought gave her tremendous satisfaction. ¡°Do you wish to contact the police and report the theft of your cards?¡±


    ¡°Yes please.¡± She doubted the police would be able to spare any resources to investigate her case any time soon, but there was no harm in setting things in motion.


    ¡°The theft of your cards has been reported to the local police. You have been assigned a case number which will be printed on your receipt.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± A moment later a new card popped out of a slot in the side of the machine. Samantha snatched it up greedily and stared at it. Such a small thing, but so precious! She was no longer a penniless destitute. She now had money and resources. She could now begin to replace everything she¡¯d lost, one thing at a time. Except the house itself, of course, but she was far from being the only person in that boat.


    ¡°Please load the card with five hundred pounds,¡± she said.


    ¡°Your account is already overdrawn by two thousand, two hundred and seven pounds eleven pence.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Samantha. All that food, the freezer and the generator she''d bought. All gone now. Stolen, or destroyed in the fire. She had an overdraft limit of five thousand pounds, though. It would be okay. ¡°Please load my card with five hundred pounds.¡±


    ¡°Your card has been loaded with five hundred pounds. Your account is now overdrawn by two thousand, seven hundred and seven pounds, eleven pence. Would you like to perform another operation?¡±


    ¡°No, thank you.¡± She tucked the card into an inside pocket and walked away, feeling better than she had at any time since the house invasion. Now she needed to buy a new phone. Almost all shops that weren''t specialised for one particular product sold the most basic types, good only for talking to people and searching the internet, but that was all she wanted right now. She headed into the nearest shop, therefore, the local newsagents, and saw a selection on display on the rear wall. She picked out two. Cheap, plastic devices that looked as though they would last about a month before falling to pieces, but she could get better ones when her immediate problems were all behind her. She took them to the counter, paid for them with her card and walked out with them.


    Outside the shop, she turned them on. Their batteries showed only twenty percent. They had probably been on display in the shop for about five years, but that would do. She was part of the world again! She was once again a member of twenty first century society! She copied each phone''s number into the other''s memory and then gave one to Lily. Just in case they got separated. Lily stared at it doubtfully, then tucked it into a pocket.


    Okay, time to get back in touch with people. She couldn''t remember Neil Arndale¡¯s personal phone number so she called up Bristol University''s website to get his work number. She dialled it, but only got a disconnected tone. She tried other people who worked at the university, getting their numbers from the University''s website. Sandra Willoughby, John Paul Carn¨¦, Phil Wickham. No luck with any of them. The university must be completely closed down until they''d moved to new premises on higher ground, she thought in frustration. There was nothing else to do except keep trying numbers, though, so she worked her way through the university''s entire staff until, finally, the phone was answered. Cliff Emery, a mathematician. She''d only met him once or twice during her entire time in Bristol but she seemed to remember that he wore spectacles. He refused eye surgery because it was against his religion. He was a Jehovah''s Witness or something. Right now, she wouldn''t have cared if he sacrificed chickens to Satan.


    ¡°Yes?¡± said a soft, whispery voice. ¡°Who is this?¡±


    ¡°Thank you for answering, Professor. My name is Samantha Kumiko. I was wondering whether you could put me in touch with Neil Arndale. Do you have his number?¡±


    ¡°His number? His private number, you mean? It would be quite inappropriate for me to give someone''s private number to a complete stranger.¡±


    ¡°Fine, then get him to call me. Tell him it''s Samantha Kumiko and that I urgently need his help. He can either call me or refuse as he chooses.¡±


    ¡°I suppose that would be alright. Very well, I''ll call him right now.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. You''re very...¡± The connection had already been cut, though. She took Lily''s hand again, therefore, and led her away, looking for something to sit on. Might as well be comfortable while they were waiting.


    There were no available seats, though. The bus stop was full of homeless refugees and so was the tea shop, even though there was no food for sale inside. She just walked, therefore, while mentally willing the phone to ring. She passed right through the town and out into the countryside on the other side. There was a larger town up ahead. Maybe there would be a shop with some food in it.


    The high tide had finally fallen, she saw. As she walked down a gentle slope she saw sand and seaweed left high and dry on the road. There was also a small boat in someone''s garden, she saw. Sitting neatly on the grass and lying at a slight angle so that the mast was leaning against the house''s bay window. Looking through the window, she could see that the front room had been ruined by sea water. The carpet was still soaked and the walls were wet up to a height of nearly a metre. There were rectangles of lighter wallpaper on the walls where a television and the speakers of a sound system had been removed, though. They would be safe somewhere, ready for when the family found a new home on higher ground.


    Another house had been broken into, and as she passed she saw homeless refugees inside, sitting on the wooden furniture. They glared suspiciously at her as she passed, and Samantha suddenly decided that this wasn''t an area she wanted to be in. One rape was enough for a lifetime, and she had to think of Lily as well. She turned around and headed back the way she¡¯d come, therefore. At least the small town was safe. Real life was still going on there. Law and order survived. She hurried, eager to put the recently flooded region behind her, along with the lawless, desperate people it contained.


    She''d forgotten about the phone, and so was surprised when it rang. She snatched it from her pocket, her heart hammering with excitement, and pressed the answer button. ¡°Hello!¡± she said, almost laughing with relief.


    ¡°Sam?¡± It was Neil Arndale¡¯s voice. She almost kissed the phone in delight. ¡°Is that you?¡±


    ¡°Neil! Thank God! It''s so good to hear your voice!¡±


    ¡°What is it Sam? What''s wrong?¡±


    Samantha gave him a brief summary of her recent adventures, leaving out the rape and Lily''s bondage. There¡¯d be time to open that can of worms later. Right now, she just needed Neil to know that she was homeless. ¡°I hate to impose on you, Neil, but I¡¯ve literally got no-one else to turn to.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s fine, Sam. I''m glad you called. Tell me where you are and I¡¯ll come over and pick you up.¡±


    Samantha looked for a street sign. ¡°I''m on Hartcliffe Road, just north of Dundry. I''m heading back into Dundry now. I¡¯ll be in the village green.¡±


    ¡°I''m on my way. Oh by the way, do you know anyone by the name of Stuart Kerr?¡±


    ¡°No, who is he?¡±


    ¡°He''s been phoning me repeatedly, looking for you. He says he¡¯s with a group of scientists who need your knowledge of the moon.¡±


    Samantha laughed bitterly. ¡°My knowledge of the moon is obsolete. The whole moon is melting.¡±


    ¡°Well, can I give you his phone number? You can talk to him while you¡¯re waiting for me.¡±


    ¡°Okay. And thanks again, Neil. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you!¡±


    ¡°No worries, Sam. I''m on my way.¡±

 Chapter Thirty One

    ¡°I thought we were safe!¡± The man was saying. ¡°We were well above the twenty metre line. I checked again and again. The man on the telly said that some people just above the line might get flooded anyway, because of tidal bores, the tunnelling effect of the local terrain, that kind of thing, so I checked. I checked again and again, because that¡¯s what you do when you''ve got a family to look after. Right?¡±


    Margaret nodded numbly. She''d been hearing similar stories all night. People who''d prepared, taken precautions, and then lost loved ones when the tsunami hit. She''d listened to harrowing accounts of a titanic wall of water sweeping towards them like the wrath of God, sweeping away lives and buildings with casual contempt. She¡¯d heard numbed survivors telling of how they had tried to hold onto wives and children, only to have them pulled relentlessly from their grasp by the power of the water. When the floodwaters had subsided, the survivors had wandered desperately here and there searching for the people they''d lost, hoping against hope to find them alive. Huddling with a group of fellow survivors perhaps. Occasionally, one of her patients had indeed had that good fortune, but more often than not they were desperate to have their injuries patched up as quickly as possible so that they could return to the search. Margaret suspected that some of them would still be searching for years to come, never allowing themselves to entirely give up hope.


    Over the long hours until dawn, it had slowly sapped the life and the spirit from Margaret until she was now just going through the motions, like a robot. She no longer tried to offer words of comfort and support. She just cut up sheets and blankets to make bandages to bind injuries and tie splints to broken bones. There was nothing else she or any of the others could do for them. Looking around the makeshift infirmary, she saw the same numbed expressions of the faces of the other amateur medics, and even on the trained doctors and nurses, people who must have seen similar scenes before. It was the endless succession of patients, she knew. Usually, after some kind of disaster, whether it was a collapsed building or one of the very rare road traffic accidents that still happened from time to time, there would be horror and distress for a while, but then the last of the patients would have received their initial examination and treatment and things would settle down. Here, though, they just kept coming and coming.


    She finished tying the bandage and moved on to the next patient without a word. He probably thought she was callous and uncaring, or maybe he''d seen the dead look in her eyes and guessed the reason for it. Margaret had already forgotten about him, though, and was removing the damp, muddy clothes from the next young man, cutting with a pair of scissors. He¡¯d received some kind of penetrating injury to his chest and had cuts and scratches pretty much everywhere else, as if the rushing waters had thrown him against rocks and boulders. He looked silently up at her as she cut away the last of his clothing, as if he wanted to say something but was unable to summon the energy.


    There was little she could do for him, she saw. She dried the area around the sucking wound in his chest and taped a piece of plastic over it to seal it, allowing him to breathe easier. Then she carefully cleaned his other injuries one by one, watching him wince with pain as she gently pulled each wound open and flushed it out with water. Just tap water. The only water they had. She couldn''t do anything for the pain he was in. They had run out of pain medication long ago. They also had nothing left with which to fight infection. He would just have to take his chances. At least he wasn''t bleeding badly from anywhere. That was one thing to be grateful for.


    When she''d finished, she wrapped bandages around his injuries. He¡¯d have to wait until a proper nurse could see him, to sew him up properly. Finally she draped a sheet over him to protect his modesty and looked around to see who was next.


    ¡°Mum,¡± said a voice from behind her. She was in such a state of numbed exhaustion that it took her a moment to recognise it, but then she felt a hand touching her arm and he moved in front of her, into her field of view. ¡°Oh God, mum! Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Richard,¡± said Margaret, smiling wearily. ¡°How are the others?¡±


    ¡°They''re fine. I came to see how you are. God, you look terrible! Come on, time to have a rest.¡±


    ¡°I can''t. There are more patients...¡±


    ¡°There''s plenty of others. You look done in. Come on, I¡¯ll take you back to the hanger. You need a rest.¡±


    ¡°I''m fine. These people need me.¡±


    ¡°You are not fine! You''ve done your bit. Time to rest now.¡±


    He pulled her, gently but irresistibly, towards the door. Margaret resisted at first, staring back at the roomful of moaning, groaning patients and exhausted medics, but then she gave in and allowed her son to lead her away.


    Outside, she was surprised to see that it was full daylight. In fact, to judge from the sun¡¯s height in the sky, it was half way to noon. Across the field, the engineers were erecting a temporary fence across the breached section, but the main gates of the airfield were open and a steady stream of casualties and injured were being brought in by friends and relatives, to be met by guards who checked to make sure they really were injured before taking them to the infirmary she had just left. Word must have spread, she thought. And there were probably similar streams of injured heading towards every other hospital and military base. Anywhere else where people thought they might be able to get help. The country''s entire medical system must be overloaded. Must be laughably inadequate to cope with the magnitude of the current emergency.


    ¡°And this is just the beginning,¡± she said to herself. ¡°The moon''s in a new orbit now. This is going to happen somewhere in the world every twenty nine days. They say it¡¯ll happen here again in about four months. We won''t even have begun to recover from this within four months!¡±


    ¡°Next time we''ll be better prepared,¡± said Richard.


    ¡°No we won''t. This time around we had food and medical supplies stockpiled, but we must have just about run out of everything already. How will we feed the millions of displaced people next time? How will we treat them? Think about how much farming land we''ve lost. Think about how many factories and industrial centres were destroyed by the floods. If this were a one time event, we''d rally and we''d rebuild, like we did after the second world war, but this is going to happen again and again. Forever. It will be worse every time until we''re finally thrown all the way back to the stone age.¡±


    ¡°Civilisation will survive on high ground...¡±


    ¡°Will it? The high ground will be swamped by refugees. You saw what happened here. The crowds burst in, we couldn''t keep them out. It''ll be the same everywhere. It¡¯ll be like the zombie apocalypse except the zombies will be living people. People that normal, decent people will want to help. If it were a real zombie apocalypse, that would actually be easier because you could just massacre the zombies. You can''t do that to living people.¡±


    ¡°You were in there too long,¡± said Richard. ¡°I should have come to get you long before.¡±


    ¡°I have to go back...¡±


    ¡°You''re not going back! That place did something to you. Took your thoughts to dark places. If you go back it¡¯ll crush you.¡±


    ¡°Someone''s got to help all those people! We can''t just leave them!¡±


    ¡°Someone else can take a turn. There''re plenty of people in the hanger, people who don''t have families to look after. It''s time they took a share of the load.¡±


    ¡°There''s people outside who already think we''re withholding food and medical supplies. I heard the casualties talking to each other. At the moment they¡¯re just hungry. Soon, they''ll be starving. What''ll happen then?¡±


    ¡°The authorities will sort something out.¡±


    ¡°How? What''ll they do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but they¡¯ve probably already got a plan set up. This country was badly hit, but most of the rest of the world wasn¡¯t. The government can buy food. Enough to feed everybody.¡±


    ¡°The rest of the world wasn''t hit as badly this time! Next time the moon comes close, another part of the world will be hit by floods and tsunamis. And another next time. Soon, food will be in short supply everywhere! There''s going to be starvation all around the world. There''ll be riots, violence on a scale never seen before. The death toll will be enormous! Things might stabilise, civilisation might recover, when the world''s population has dropped to a fraction of what it is now.¡±


    ¡°You need to sleep. Things¡¯ll look better when you¡¯re rested, you''ll see.¡±


    They''d reached the hanger and Richard opened the door to take her through, but as they headed back to where they''d left the rest of the family she couldn''t shake the awful feeling that her dark prophecies might turn out to be even worse than she feared...


    ¡î¡î¡îThe tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Stuart and Jessica Kerr sat in their car, staring at the bank terminal on the other side of the street, about thirty metres away. ¡°She''s had plenty of time to get here by now,¡± said Jessica, tapping her fingernails on the glove compartment impatiently. ¡°She must have gone to another.¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± her husband replied. He was lounging in the drivers seat, watching a small insect marching up the windshield. Occasionally a passer by would approach the terminal. If it was a woman he would perk up momentarily, but they always went right by it without stopping. He would stare at them as they passed the car, looking for Japanese features in their faces. If they noticed his interest he would look hurriedly away, but usually not in time to avoid a look of suspicion appearing on their faces. Sooner or later, he thought, one of them''s going to call her husband to report a suspicious couple loitering in a car and things might suddenly get hairy. He didn¡¯t like aggressive confrontations.


    ¡°So how long do we wait?¡±


    The desire to leave, to just drive away, rose strongly inside him, but he forced it back down. This was important! The future of the world might literally depend on it. ¡°Let¡¯s give it a bit longer,¡± he said therefore. ¡°She may still turn up.¡±


    ¡°She''s probably gone to another. We''re wasting our time here.¡±


    ¡°So what do you suggest? There''s dozens of these things within a few miles of here. Do you want to stake out another? Which one? Suppose she comes to this one five minutes after we''ve left?¡±


    ¡°Exactly, which means there¡¯s no point being here any more. We''ve lost her. We should just go home, I miss the kids. Neil said he''d call us if she contacted him.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s give it five more minutes, just in case.¡±


    His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, hoping it was Neil Arndale, but it just said unknown number. He answered it anyway. ¡°Hello,¡± he said.


    ¡°Is that Stuart Kerr?¡± a woman''s voice asked.


    ¡°Yes. Who is this?¡±


    ¡°My name is Samantha Kumiko. I understand you''ve been looking for me.¡±


    Stuart sat upright in his seat. ¡°Samantha!¡± he said, staring across at Jessica. She also sat upright and stared back. ¡°Thank God! Listen, it¡¯s very important that we meet. We need your knowledge of the moon. Is there somewhere we can meet?¡±


    ¡°Why? What''s this about?¡±


    ¡°Look, this is going to sound crazy, but I swear I''m serious. I''m a member of a group of scientists, that is, me and my wife are members of this group, and we have a plan to, er.. ¡° He paused, fully aware of just how crazy his next words were going to sound. ¡°We have a plan to move the moon back into its original orbit.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible! You''re crazy!¡±


    ¡°We have a mass dampener, like the one the Chinese used. You remember that? The whole world saw the moon''s atmosphere pulsating as they turned it on and off.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I remember.¡± There was a pause as if she was digesting the news. ¡°Okay, so how can I help you?¡±


    ¡°We plan to attach a spacecraft to the moon by a cable. Then we''ll reduce the mass of the moon almost to nothing and pull it back into its original orbit.¡±


    There was another long pause. Stuart imagined her thinking that the very idea was ridiculous. She would disconnect the call, dismiss him as a madman and refuse to answer any return calls he tried to make to her. But she¡¯d seen the Chinese mass dampener in operation. Somehow, impossibly, someone really had invented a device that could remove virtually all the mass from the moon. She¡¯d seen the proof with her own eyes. The whole world had. Stuart waited as patiently as he could while Samantha worked her way through the logic.


    ¡°So, how can I help?¡± she asked at last.


    ¡°We need to know where on the moon to anchor the cable. It can''t be a place riddled with fault lines or we''ll just rip a big chunk out of the moon and leave the rest in its new orbit. We need a large, stable region big enough that, even if it does pull free, it¡¯ll have enough mass in the intervals when the dampener¡¯s turned off for it to act as a gravity tractor and pull the rest of the moon after it.¡±


    ¡°Bristol University has a lunar tectonic fault map. I helped create it. Neil Arndale should be able to send you a copy.¡±


    ¡°I would imagine there are other factors to consider, all of which would have an impact on an area''s suitability. I was hoping we could take you up to Wetherby to meet the rest of the team and we can brainstorm it together.¡±


    There was another long pause and Stuart tried to imagine how the proposition sounded from Samantha''s standpoint. A strange man was asking her to go away with him. Her house had burned down, and the child¡¯s clothes they¡¯d found wrapped with tape suggested that they¡¯d had a run in with some bad criminal types. Samantha was probably traumatised and suspicious, and had a little girl to protect. He handed the phone to Jessica. ¡°Talk to her,¡± he said.


    Jessica took the phone. ¡°Hello, Samantha?¡± she said. ¡°My name is Jessica, I''m Stuart¡¯s wife. We went to your house first, we saw what happened to it. We saw you''d been in your neighbour¡¯s house and we found, I mean, we know something bad happened to you.¡±


    ¡°I was raped,¡± said Samantha quietly.


    ¡°Oh God! I''m so sorry...¡±


    ¡°My daughter was bound and gagged with duct tape and we were left there to burn alive.¡±


    Jessica stared at Stuart. He was leaning over to put his head close to hers, close enough to hear what Samantha had just said. She saw him mouth the word shit.


    ¡°Samantha,¡± said Jessica softly. ¡°I''m so sorry for what happened to you. I don''t want to sound callous, but bad things have been happening to a lot of people over the past couple of days, and this is just the beginning. We have this one opportunity to fix things, to put the moon back where it belongs. In another couple of weeks the moon will be completely molten and it will no longer be possible to attach anything to it. We need your help. Thousands, maybe millions, of people have died already. Millions more will die if the situation remains unchecked. You can help save those people. Will you help us?¡±


    ¡°I really want to, but my daughter and I have been through a lot and we just want some time to, to recover and, and...¡±


    Stuart took the phone back. ¡°After what you''ve been through, I can understand your reluctance to meet up with a couple of strangers that you have no reason to trust. Perhaps there¡¯s somewhere public we can meet up. Somewhere with lots of people around. We can answer all your questions, provide whatever reassurances you need.¡±


    ¡°Neil Arndale is on his way to pick me up. I''ve asked him to put himself out for me.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we can all meet up together. You, us and Neil, at his home. We can provide proof that we really are who we say we are. Please, Samantha, this is important. There are a lot of lives at stake.¡±


    There was another pause, but not as long this time. ¡°When Neil gets here, I''ll ask him if that''s okay,¡± she said. ¡°If he says it¡¯s okay for you to come to his house, then we''ll meet there.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Samantha,¡± said Stuart with relief. ¡°You''ll call us back?¡±


    ¡°I''ll call you back,¡± Samantha promised, and hung up.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Three hours later, Samantha and Lily were in Stuart''s car, driving north. Samantha was in the front passenger seat while Lily was in the back, with Jessica. The little girl was bright and chatty. She seemed to have taken an instant liking to her new travelling companion. Jessica was asking her how she was getting on in school and Lily was telling her all about her classmates. Which ones she liked and which ones she didn''t like as much. Samantha listened with a smile of relief. The little girl seemed to have suffered no lasting harm from what had happened to her. She was going to be alright.


    ¡°Is her father anywhere around?¡± asked Stuart.


    Samantha just shook her head and to her relief he didn''t press it. It wasn''t something she wanted to talk about. ¡°Perhaps she''ll have a new father one day,¡± he said therefore.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Samantha. She turned her head to look out the window. They were driving along a road that had been deep underwater this time yesterday. There were wooden and plastic objects hanging from tree branches high over their heads and they¡¯d seen several wooden fences that had been swept away by a torrent of water. A snow plough had been along shortly beforehand, pushing aside the dune shaped ridges of soil, sand and other detritus that had been left on the road, but the smaller side roads were still mostly impassable, blocked in places by entire trees that had been uprooted and thrown around like matchsticks. The car''s navigation system told them that the way ahead was clear, though, and they''d decided to trust it rather than take a long detour to the south.


    ¡°I suppose all these plants are going to die,¡± said Samantha, just to change the subject.


    ¡°Depends,¡± said Stuart. ¡°Only the top few inches of soil have probably been affected by salt yet. The grass and other small plants might die, but the larger plants have roots that go down into soil that hasn''t been contaminated. If there are no more high tides, rainfall will eventually wash the salt out and the ground will recover. The large plants will survive, and new grass seeds will germinate. Five years from now, you might not be able to tell that anything happened.¡±


    ¡°If your crazy plan works.¡±


    ¡°If it works, yes.¡±


    ¡°What if it doesn''t?¡±


    ¡°Then areas like this will be flooded repeatedly. The salt will eventually percolate deeply enough to kill everything. There are plants that can tolerate salt, maybe they''ll grow in those places where the water doesn''t cover them too deeply, but being repeatedly covered with several metres of water will kill anything. One day, if we fail, this entire area will be a lifeless expanse of mud. Perhaps new forms of life will evolve to exploit this new ecological niche over the next few million years.¡±


    ¡°And do you really think you have a chance of success?¡±


    ¡°We have a man willing to risk his life trying. He''s going to go up into space in an old Mercury capsule perched on top of a Star Pigeon. We have scientists and governments who are backing the mission. They must think it¡¯s worth trying.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they''re just desperate.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they are. The more you think about what the moon''s going to do to us, in the years and centuries to come, the more you think we have to try.¡±


    Samantha shook her head in amazement. ¡°The moon''s always been our friend. It stabilised the Earth¡¯s axial tilt. It protects us from asteroids. It was going to be our stepping stone out into the solar system.¡±


    ¡°It still will be, when we''ve put it back where it belongs.¡±


    Samantha nodded and looked back out the window at the devastated world they were driving through. Even if they succeeded, it would be the work of a generation to repair the damage the moon had done with just one close approach. Poor old England might never be the same again, or any of the other countries on the North Sea. She thought about other places around the world that had been devastated by floods, earthquakes and tsunamis, some much worse than England. Other countries had, so far, barely been touched, but about a hundred volcanoes had erupted around the world. Vast clouds of dust and smoke were rising to blanket the world. A volcanic winter was coming that might last for several years and it was precisely those countries that hadn''t been touched by the oceans that would be hardest hit by the long winter. Countries near the centre of continents, far from the stabilising warmth of ocean currents. Eastern Europe, most of Russia. The central American states. They were probably feeling smug at the moment. They wouldn''t be feeling quite so pleased with themselves this time next year.


    Stuart put on some music. Something classical that Samantha couldn''t identify. It was soothing, though, and the car was warm and comfortable. The stress of the past twenty four hours was beginning to catch up with her and she found herself growing drowsy. She leaned her head back against the headrest and dropped off to sleep.

 Chapter Thirty Two

    There was a visible gap between the bottom of the Mercury capsule and the top of the Star Pigeon, Eddie saw as the retrofitted Land Rover Discovery pulled into the space launch centre car park. A latticework of aluminium girders connected the two, still being worked on by construction workers. It looked alarmingly frail, resembling a few strands of spider silk from this distance. The rocket itself was twenty metres tall and two metres wide with the logos of a dozen private companies all over it along with a cartoon of a pigeon wearing a rocket pack, the logo of PigeonCo itself. The service structure standing beside it consisted of little more than a rectangular tower of scaffolding up which cables and fuel pipes ran along with a simple ladder up which the engineers had climbed. Eddie wondered whether he would be expected to climb that ladder wearing a full space suit.


    ¡°Well, there it is,¡± said Flight Director Moses Rodrigues, who had driven personally to the airport to collect him. ¡°Your chariot awaits, Sir!¡±


    He smiled across as Eddie, showing huge teeth stained by chewing tobacco. They were both wearing short sleeved shirts in the stifling, humid heat and sunglasses against the glare of the sun where it was reflected from the windows and white walls of the prefabricated launch facility buildings. It was a much smaller place than Eddie had been expecting. Nothing but a tall, rocket shaped hanger with large railway tracks leading to the launch pad itself and half a dozen buildings arranged in a line about five hundred metres from it. Moses had told him that the individual stages of the rocket itself were manufactured in a nearby industrial complex, also owned by Mark Pigeon, and that only the final assembly, the stacking of the four stages on top of each other and the fuelling, was carried out here.


    The whole place had a half finished look to Eddie, as if it had been nothing but jungle just a couple of years before. The ground was uneven and covered with small shrubs except in the vicinity of the launch pad itself where the ground was scorched from previous launches. Deep wheel ruts ran across it where heavy vehicles had crossed during or just after the heavy rains that characterised the area. It looked temporary. It would have been impossible to guess that Mark Pigeon had been launching rockets from here for nearly twenty years.


    ¡°Will it be ready in time?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°I''m supposed to be going up in less than two hours.¡±


    ¡°It''s pretty much ready already. They''re just checking the welds. Welding aluminium is tricky. If you don''t get it just right...¡± He drew a finger across his throat, still grinning.


    ¡°Even if every weld is perfect, are you sure that''ll stand up to a six gee launch? It looks so... Fragile!¡±


    ¡°If you can take the strain, it can. I have faith in my men. You''re the one I''m worried about. You look half dead!¡±


    ¡°Got to get my weight down. I haven''t eaten in two days, I drink as little as possible and they haven¡¯t let me have much sleep with all the things I''m supposed to learn. They even gave me homework. ¡±He showed the other man the attach¨¦ case he''d brought with him, full of papers he was supposed to read before the launch.


    Moses nodded soberly. He was the man in overall charge of the Mahdia Space Launch Centre, except for those times when Mark Pigeon took a personal interest and turned up to oversee a particularly important launch, as he had now. The man was walking across the tarmac towards them even as they spoke, Eddie saw. A tall, clean shaven man in a business suit and wearing a wide panama hat. The contrast with Moses Rodrigues with his swarthy, sweat sheened face and his hairy arms was dramatic. Mark Pigeon was a businessman who had to look good to woo customers while Moses was a workman who got his hands dirty and didn''t care what he looked like so long as he got the job done. They were both perfect for the roles they played in the organisation.


    The Land Rover''s doors opened and they got out, just in time for Mark Pigeon to reach them. ¡°Edward Nash!¡± he said, holding out his hand. Eddie shook it. ¡°The man himself. I can''t decide whether you''re a hero or insane.¡±


    ¡°I''m not quite sure myself,¡± said Eddie. ¡°It¡¯s only now coming to seem real. Seeing it out there...¡± He looked at the rocket.


    ¡°You understand it¡¯s not rated for manned missions,¡± said Mark Pigeon. ¡°Strictly speaking, what we''re about to do is highly illegal.¡±


    ¡°I understand you''ve been promised immunity,¡± replied Eddie. ¡°I must have signed about a dozen release forms, and if we succeed I''m pretty sure they''ll forgive us anyway.¡±


    ¡°You clearly don''t know lawyers. Oh well, what happens happens. I''m in no matter what. To tell the truth, when they told me what you wanted my rocket for, I would have trampled grannies underfoot in my rush to agree. To send a man into space... When you''re in my line of business, this is what you dream of!¡±


    ¡°You should see it from my point of view. I''m a research physicist. I thought I would spend my whole life in laboratories. Now I''m going into space! I keep expecting someone to stop me, to say it¡¯s insane and that I can''t do it.¡±


    ¡°It is insane, but you can do it. No-one¡¯s going to show up at the last minute to stop us. Not even the weather. There was a storm supposed to be coming our way, but it seems to have gone down south instead.¡±


    ¡°Suppose it hadn''t gone south. Could we have launched anyway?¡±


    ¡°Depends.¡± He began walking back towards the administration building and the other two men fell in beside him. There were two soldiers on guard there, Eddie saw, standing on either side of the door.


    ¡°Lightning is the biggest risk,¡± Mark Pigeon continued. ¡°It can knock out the rocket¡¯s electronics. And strong winds can blow the rocket off course. We have to balance that against the fact that you have to launch in two hours or the whole thing''s off. We can''t wait ninety minutes for the space station to come around again. To get your obese carcass up there, it has to be a minimum fuel launch, and that means the space station has to be exactly above the equator to meet us, but Harmony''s in an inclined orbit. Next time around it¡¯ll be twenty degrees above the equator. They used up a ton of fuel changing their orbit for us. Many tons, in fact. They can''t do it again, not if they want enough left to get you to the moon."


    "I still don''t see why I have to go up today. They say it''ll be a week before the shuttle''s ready to leave orbit. In the meantime I''ll just be kicking my heels up there, getting in the way. I could wait down here for a few more days. Reduce my weight by losing fat instead of water."


    "The rocket''s ready to go up now," Mark Pigeon replied. "If there''s a delay of more than a day or so the rocket has to be de-fuelled, for safety. Then, when it''s fuelled again we have to go through all the pre-flight checks all over again, and if it fails one then you don''t go up. The rocket''s ready now so you go up now. We launch in two hours or we don''t launch at all. If the weather''s bad, you go up anyway and you just take your chances.¡±


    ¡°That''s a bit unusual, isn''t it? Normally, the slightest hint of risk and everything''s called off.¡±


    ¡°Everyone knows what''s at stake and, thanks to the Chinese, everyone knows this device of yours really exists. If you were to change your mind now, I think the Americans would carry you up to the Mercury capsule and tie you to the couch with zip ties.¡±


    Eddie looked around and saw half a dozen sleek black limousines on the other side of the car park, along with an armoured car. ¡°Yes, I see they''ve arrived,¡± he said. ¡°They''ve brought everything?¡±


    ¡°The original alien mass dampener, a spacesuit, everything. Also a squad of marines to guard the mass dampener. They''re not raking any chances of it slipping out of their hands.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I already got the impression they were very possessive of it, despite the fact it was us who gave it to them in the first place.¡±


    ¡°An alien spacecraft!¡± said Mark Pigeon in awe. ¡°A real life, honest to goodness alien spacecraft!¡±


    ¡°And the mass dampener may only be the first new technology we gain from it.¡±


    He fell silent as the door to the administration building opened and a man in military uniform emerged to meet them. ¡°Edward Nash,¡± said Mark Pigeon, ¡°meet Master Sergeant Samuel Hill, head of the American security detail.¡±


    ¡°Here to see that our property goes up there,¡± said Samuel Hill, pointing upwards, ¡°and nowhere else. Good to meet you, Mister Nash.¡±


    ¡°Likewise,¡± said Eddie, shaking the offered hand. He turned back to Mark Pigeon. ¡°And has the equipment from Wetherby arrived yet?¡±


    ¡°Your prototype, home made mass dampener, yes, and everything you need to convert it into a mass amplifier when you''re up there.¡±


    ¡°Then everything¡¯s here,¡± said Eddie. ¡°All that¡¯s left to do is to load it all aboard the Mercury capsule and for me to get into the spacesuit.¡±


    ¡°Moses will show you to the outfitting room,¡± said Mark Pigeon. ¡°Or the equipment storage shed, as we normally call it.¡±


    Moses gestured to one of the other buildings and Eddie followed him towards it. Mark Pigeon then went back into the administration building with Samuel Hill. One of the two marines standing guard closed the door behind them and then the two soldiers resumed their task of tirelessly scanning the area for any potential threats.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Eddie almost laughed out loud when he saw the cherry picker waiting to carry him to the rocket. It was so obvious and mundane, so simple. It had probably been hired just for the day from some local firm, and yet it was going to help an astronaut get into space. The man sitting in the driving seat looked bored, as if he took part in manned space launches every day. Eddie wondered whether he was also from the hire firm or whether he was one of Mark Pigeon¡¯s engineers. How much training did it need to operate a cherry picker? Was it something any moderately intelligent man could master after having been shown how a couple of times or did you need to be licensed or something? If so, then the driver would have to be some guy who normally spent his time repairing street lights or doing tree surgery. Eddie wondered what his reaction had been when he''d been told what today¡¯s job was.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The space suit was hot and heavy as the panel van drove him across the field. The cooling jumpsuit against his skin was already working, but it was no match for even a winter day in Guyana. He could feel himself sweating inside it, and he was already dehydrated. He felt himself becoming worryingly light headed, but at least the worry that he might faint made him forget the discomfort caused by the sanitary unit''s catheter.


    There were cameramen filming him, he saw through the van¡¯s small windows. Recording the event for posterity just in case the mission was a triumphant success. If it wasn''t a success, and if the failure was in some way due to the rocket, if Eddie died during the launch failure, Eddie suspected the footage would be quietly lost. Mark Pigeon would want to continue launching satellites and a death aboard one of his rockets, no matter what the circumstances, might well prove fatal to his company.


    Arriving at the launch site, the van stopped and one of the engineers who''d accompanied him opened the double doors in the back. The second engineer, who''d driven the van, then joined the first and together they helped Eddie climb down. The three of them then walked together to the cherry picker. Even with the platform at ground level, it still needed a step up to get into it and the engineers took an elbow each to help him in. One of them then went back to get his helmet. He handed it to him and then got into the platform with him.


    The driver of the cherry picker, who turned out to be the operator as well, then got in with him and closed the gate. ¡°Ready, mate?¡± he asked. Eddie nodded. ¡°Right, up we go then.¡± He pulled a lever and the platform began to rise. Eddie clutched hold of the railing in sudden fear as the ground dropped away from them. He was about to be launched into space in a rocket, and he was just discovering now that he was scared of heights!


    ¡°You okay, Eddie?¡± said a voice in his ear. Mark Pigeon in the control room.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Eddie replied into the tiny microphone beside his mouth. ¡°Everything good your end?¡±


    ¡°We''re green across the board,¡± Mark replied. Eddie wondered if he''d have told him if there was a problem. ¡°We''ve had two hundred consecutive perfect launches. Star Pigeon is a tried and tested launch platform. You''ve got nothing to worry about.¡±


    ¡°Who said I was worried?¡± replied Eddie, but his hands were clamped tightly to the cherry picker railing and it was probably obvious to everyone who could see him. He made himself loosen his grip a little. Down below, he saw the marines carrying a small box to one of the limousines. Three marines got in with it, and another two walked beside the vehicle as it drove slowly towards the rocket.


    Clouds had gathered overhead since his arrival and a light rain began to fall. Eddie could feel it against his face. There was a light wind as well. ¡°What''s the forecast look like?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Good,¡± Mark replied. ¡°We''ve launched in weather like this before.¡±


    ¡°You''ve launched in the rain?¡±


    ¡°This isn''t rain. This is just a little Scots mist. You haven¡¯t seen real rain until you''ve seen rain in Guyana.¡±


    Glad you think so, thought Eddie as the rain got harder. The wind got stronger too as the cherry picker lifted him higher than the jungle surrounding the launch site. He could feel it tugging at his hair and see it pulling at the engineer''s clothes. He felt the raindrops stinging his cheeks with greater force. He wondered how strong the wind was higher up, in the clouds. He contemplated the fact that the Mercury capsule had no abort option. None at all. If anything went wrong, Eddie would die. The only way he would survive was if the launch went perfectly.


    The platform drew level with the Mercury capsule, and the operator pulled another lever to take them sideways, towards it. The engineer then leaned across and opened the capsule¡¯s hatch. The space inside was ridiculously small. It didn''t seem possible to Eddie that he''d be able to fit inside wearing his bulky space suit, even though it was considerably smaller and more graceful than the ones worn by the original Mercury astronauts. He sighed and placed the helmet on his head. Silence immediately enveloped him, except for the faint noises of his life support system coming on automatically.


    The cherry picker operator opened the gate in the raised platform, then stood aside to make way for Eddie. Eddie had watched the video of the Mercury astronauts climbing into the capsule so he knew what to do, but it still took both the engineer and the cherry picker operator to help him in. Finally, though, he was lying on his back in the couch, staring up at the bare metal of the capsule¡¯s interior where instruments and equipment had been removed to save weight. It was dark. The only light was the sun shining in through the hatch and the two tiny portholes. A thoughtful engineer had painted the hatch release with luminous paint, though, so he''d be able to find it when the time came to leave. It glowed a bright lime green on the edge of his vision.


    The cherry picker operator closed the gate in the raised platform and then pulled the levers to move the platform away from the rocket, then back down to the ground. Eddie watched it go through the still open hatch. ¡°You still there, Mark?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Still here,¡± Mark Pigeon replied over the radio link. ¡°You okay, Eddie?¡±


    ¡°I''m fine,¡± Eddie replied. ¡°Where are we on the countdown?¡±


    ¡°T minus seven minutes fifteen seconds.¡±


    Eddie frowned. That was cutting it rather close, he thought. To make the rendezvous with the space station, they had to launch at precisely the right moment, down to the second. They weren''t leaving much time for any last minute problems that might crop up. ¡°Everything¡¯s still looking good?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Everything''s still green,¡± Mark Pigeon reassured him. ¡°Relax, Eddie, everything''s fine.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± replied Eddie. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic. The spacesuit was confining in itself, let alone the capsule that pressed close around him on all sides. He tried to control his breathing and remain calm. The couch was actually rather comfortable, if he closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was home, trying out a new piece of furniture. He wondered if he could actually get a capsule couch for his home. Mount a television on the ceiling above it...


    He saw movement in the corner of his eye and saw, through the open hatch, that the cherry picker platform had returned. This time, the operator had been joined by Master Sergeant Samuel Hill, who was holding a small lockbox in his hand. A larger box stood on the railed flooring beside him. The marine leaned forward, reaching into the capsule to hand the box to Eddie. He was saying something that Eddie couldn¡¯t hear, but by reading his lips he thought it was something like ¡°Take good care of this. The US government expects to get it back.¡± Eddie gave him a thumbs up and placed the lockbox beside him, securing it to the bulkhead by means of the latches that had been provided for it.


    The marine then handed in the larger box, the one containing their home made mass dampener. Eddie had to lift himself half out of the couch to take it, and he placed it on his other side, securing it to the floor. The marine then stood back and said something else. Probably good luck. Eddie gave him another thumbs up and the marine swung the capsule''s hatch closed. Almost total darkness fell. Eddie guessed that the capsule had once had an internal light of some kind. If so, it had also been removed to save weight.


    Like the hatch release, the box containing the home made mass dampener had been marked with luminous paint. Eddie opened the small door in its side and flipped the switch he found inside. ¡°I''ve just turned on the mass dampener,¡± he said.


    ¡°Copy that,¡± replied Mark Pigeon. ¡°We just registered a substantial reduction in the capsule¡¯s weight.¡± There was a pause before the entrepreneur spoke again. ¡°We show the capsule''s mass to now be three hundred and sixty seven point five kilograms.¡±


    ¡°Is that low enough?¡± asked Eddie nervously. If it wasn''t, it would all have been for nothing. There would be no point in proceeding with the launch if it was mathematically impossible for him to reach orbit.


    ¡°Just barely. You''re one hundred grams under the critical weight. Luckily, there''s a low pressure system above us right now. If there wasn''t, the extra air resistance would make the launch impossible.¡±


    Eddie had to suppress a giggle. Thank God for bad weather, he thought. He looked at one of the small potholes and saw raindrops appearing on the other side of the glass. They began to merge together and run down the glass in little rivulets. He wondered how much the water weighed. If the entire rocket, say four hundred square metres, was covered with a thin sheen of rainwater... The brief flurry of rain seemed to be over, though. Hopefully, the rocket would have time to dry off before the launch. It was hot outside, after all, but it was also humid...


    ¡°Got some people on the line here want to talk to you,¡± said Mark Pigeon. ¡°Ben Wrexham from England. I''m patching them through.¡±


    There was a brief burst of static and then Ben''s voice was coming from the speaker in his ear. ¡°Eddie? How you doing?¡±


    ¡°Ben! I''m doing great. I''m in the capsule waiting to lift off. How¡¯s everyone over there?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re fine, Eddie. Say hello to Eddie, everyone.¡± There was a chorus of cheers in the background. ¡°Good luck, Eddie!¡± he heard Alice saying. ¡°Good luck!¡± called out James.


    ¡°Thanks, everyone. I think I''m going to need it.¡±


    ¡°Eddie,¡± said Ben, ¡°Say hello to the newest member of our little club. Samantha Kumiko. Our resident moon expert.¡±


    ¡°Hello Eddie,¡± he heard a woman''s voice saying. ¡°I think it''s really great what you¡¯re going. Totally insane, but great.¡±


    ¡°Those are probably the words they''ll put on my headstone,¡± Eddie replied with a smile. ¡°Welcome to the team, Samantha. Hope I get to meet you properly one day.¡±


    ¡°Me too. And it''s Sam. Only my mother calls me Samantha.¡±


    ¡°Right, Sam.¡±


    ¡°Good luck, Eddie!¡± called out a much younger voice. A little girl by the sound of it.


    ¡°Thanks, Karen. Sounds like the monkey glands are working.¡±


    There was a gaggle of laughter from the other end. ¡°That was my daughter, Lily,¡± said Samantha. ¡°Come say hello properly, Lily.¡±


    ¡°Hello, Eddie!¡± said the young voice, rather louder and clearer. ¡°Good luck on the moon!¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Lily. Take good care of your mother.¡±


    ¡°I will!¡±


    ¡°Sorry to break up the party,¡± said Mark Pigeon, ¡°but it''s almost time. We''re still looking good, so we¡¯re go for launch. This is your last chance to back out, Eddie.¡±


    ¡°What happened to zip tying me to the couch?¡±


    ¡°I was kidding, Eddie. You can back out and we''ll send the two mass dampeners up without you. Ben says they might be able to talk the astronauts through the procedure.¡±


    Eddie glanced sideways at the box sitting beside him. ¡°The world deserves the best chance we can give it,¡± he said. ¡°I''m going up.¡±


    ¡°Very well. We''re clearing the area and closing all blast doors and windows. The camera crews are still filming. If you actually pull this thing off, you¡¯re going to be a global hero.¡±


    ¡±And if we don¡¯t, no-one will ever know we tried.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they will. I was an ass to insist on secrecy. Even if you blow up on the launch pad, I¡¯ll make sure the world knows you were willing to risk your life for them. You''ll be famous either way, Eddie. I promise.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. That means a lot.¡±


    ¡°Well, this is it, then. Just twenty seconds left on the countdown. Are you ready?¡±


    Eddie sucked in a deep breath, then let it whoosh out of his mouth. ¡°As I¡¯ll ever be,¡± he said.


    ¡°Okay then.¡± There was a brief pause before he spoke again. A deafening roar suddenly filled the capsule, and Eddie felt himself being shaken violently enough to loosen the teeth in their sockets. ¡°Engine ignition has occurred,¡± said Mark Pigeon. ¡°Engines are at one hundred and four percent. Releasing restraining clamps in Five. Four, three, two, one...¡±


    There was a loud clunk coming from somewhere below him, and suddenly a fierce acceleration was pressing him down into his seat as the Star Pigeon began to rise.

 Chapter Thirty three

    Samantha Kumiko and the Wetherby scientists watched the rocket rising on the large screen in the common room. Occasionally the image would break up into pixels as the live feed struggled to make it across the world via the fragmented and badly overloaded global communications network, but then it would stabilise, showing the column of fire and smoke climbing into the sky. ¡°First stage separation in five seconds,¡± said one of the Mahdia technicians and the scientists tensed up, relaxing a moment later when the separation took place, the spent section of the rocket deploying parachutes to land safely in the Guyana jungle where it would be collected for re-use. ¡°All systems looking good,¡± the technician added. ¡°SP 1402 is on course. All systems nominal.¡±


    The rocket disappeared into the clouds a moment later, and the image on the screen changed to show the launch facility¡¯s control room as seen from a camera mounted high on the wall. Samantha had been expecting something similar to an Apollo era control room, and so was rather disappointed to see four men in a small office sitting in front of computer screens. A large screen mounted on the wall in front of them showed an overview of the mission as a whole, with a blinking point of light showing the rocket¡¯s current position on its curving path into space and with lines of data displayed beside it.


    Mark Pigeon walked into the image, turning to wave at the camera before turning his attention back to the main screen. He, and the Wetherby scientists, watched anxiously as the second and third stages also separated successfully, those sections also landing softly by parachute for re-use. The entire rocket, apart from the payload module, was normally reusable, and the first three stages might fly again as soon as three months from now, if the world was still able to afford to launch satellites by then. For this mission, though, the fourth stage, with the Mercury capsule welded to it, would be lost. It would burn up on re-entry, somewhere over the equator.


    ¡°Stage four is functioning properly,¡± said Mark Pigeon, again turning to look at the camera. ¡°I think he¡¯s out of the woods. Our biggest worry was that the rocket would be aerodynamically  unstable, that it would refuse to fly true. The engines are virtually foolproof. So long as they previous stage separates successfully and they ignite properly, there''s virtually nothing in them that can go wrong. The fourth stage will just burn until it runs out of fuel, and then Eddie just has to exit the capsule and climb aboard the shuttle that''ll take him to the space station.¡±


    ¡°Is he on course to make it to orbit?¡± asked Ben.


    ¡°Not quite, but there''s not enough of a shortfall to make a difference. If he''s not picked up by the shuttle he¡¯ll fall back to Earth and burn up an hour or so later, but he''ll have run out of air long before that anyway. He''ll be up there easily long enough for the Shenzou to pick him up.¡±


    ¡°How''s Eddie holding up?¡± asked Frank.


    ¡°He''s not responding. He''s probably passed out. We knew that might happen, it''s not a concern. He should wake up pretty soon, but even if it takes him longer to come out of it, the Harmony crew are fully capable of picking him up and taking him aboard while he''s asleep.¡±


    ¡°He''ll be fine,¡± said James, although he looked worried. ¡°A normal, healthy person can take six gees with no lasting Ill effects and he had doctors crawling all over him, looking for any health problems. They gave him a clean bill of health.¡±


    ¡°Reluctantly, in a couple of cases,¡± pointed out Frank.


    ¡°Reluctantly or not, they passed him for the launch,¡± said Ben. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be fine...¡±


    ¡°Hello?¡± said a groggy sounding voice from the speaker. ¡°You there, Mark?¡±


    ¡°We''re all here!¡± said Frank with relief. ¡°How you feeling, Eddie?¡±


    ¡°Got one hell of a headache. I assume that''s normal.¡±


    ¡°Perfectly normal,¡± said one of the ground controllers. ¡°It should pass quickly. You''re down to three gees now, and that''ll disappear in approximately twenty seconds when the fourth stage runs out of fuel. Then you¡¯ll be weightless. Try not to throw up. Try very hard!¡±


    ¡°How can I throw up when I haven''t eaten in two days?¡±


    ¡°There''s always something in your stomach. You''d be surprised.¡±


    ¡°Well, don''t worry, I have no desire to share a helmet with my own stomach acids. I quite like having eyes.¡±


    ¡°Whatever happens, do not take your helmet off,¡± warned Mark sternly. ¡°Remember that we couldn''t guarantee the capsule would be airtight. There wasn''t time to do the proper tests.¡±


    ¡°I remember. You were quite firm on the subject the first time. I can hear sounds coming from outside my space suit, though. I''m quite sure there''s air in here.¡±


    ¡°Well, let''s not take any chances.¡±


    ¡°The engines just stopped,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°Confirmed,¡± said another of the ground controllers. ¡°Engine cut off has occurred.¡±


    ¡°Fantastic!¡± said Mark Pigeon, sounding very relieved. Ben began to suspect that the odds had been rather higher than he''d let on. ¡°PigeonCo is now officially a manned space company! In your face, Jason Strong!¡±


    Ben had no idea who Jason Strong was and didn''t care. ¡°You still there, Eddie?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Still here. I''m weightless. Wow, it feels great!¡±


    ¡°I''ve got the Shenzou on another channel,¡± said Mark. ¡°They''re fifteen minutes away. Nothing for you to do but sit there and wait for them, Eddie.¡±


    ¡°Fifteen minutes?¡± said Ben. ¡°That''s cutting it pretty close, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°He doesn''t have the altitude we hoped he''d have. It was raining when he launched, the rocket was wet. That''s a lot of weight we weren''t counting on. I didn''t say so at the time, but we almost cancelled the launch. We were worried the shuttle wouldn''t be able to reach him at all.¡±


    ¡°You risked his life!¡± said Frank angrily.


    ¡°You know what''s at stake here. There¡¯s more than one life at stake. We took a calculated risk.¡±


    ¡°You did the right thing, Mark,¡± said Eddie. ¡°The others understand. Right, guys?¡±


    ¡°We weren''t counting on a cold hearted businessman willing to risk other people''s lives for his own personal glory,¡± said Frank.


    ¡°Frank, that¡¯s unfair!¡±  said Ben sternly. ¡°We all knew it was a risk. Eddie knew the risk he was taking. He was willing to take that risk.¡±


    Frank nodded unhappily. ¡°I know,¡± he said. ¡°I just wish it was me up there. He''s risking his life because I was too much of a fat slob to go up.¡±


    ¡°Frank, you¡¯ve got to get over this!¡± said Eddie. ¡°I''m thrilled to be up here! I''m glad you''re a fat slob!¡± Frank gave a guilty chuckle and smiled weakly. ¡°So relax. I''m going to be fine, and if I''m not, then that¡¯s fine too. I''m having an experience worth dying for. God, but I wish these tiny little portholes were bigger. What I can see through them is incredible!¡±


    ¡°You''ll have plenty of time for sightseeing when you''re aboard the space station,¡± said Mark. ¡°It''ll take the crew several days to finish adapting the Colibri. You don''t have the skills to help them, you¡¯ll have nothing to do but play the tourist.¡±


    ¡°And eat,¡± said Eddie. ¡°And drink. I hope they''ve got plenty of water on that shuttle.¡±


    ¡°We''re about to lose you, Eddie,¡± said one of the flight control engineers. ¡°We no longer have the satellites for continuous communications. You''ll have to tell us how it went when you come above the horizon again.¡±


    ¡°Roger that,¡± said Eddie. ¡°You''re already breaking up...¡± Eddie''s voice was also breaking up, and a moment later there was nothing coming from the Mercury capsule but static.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s it for now,¡± said Mark Pigeon. ¡°We''ll let you know when we hear anything.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Mark.¡±


    Ben left the channel open, but nothing came from the speakers but the low voices of the flight control engineers talking amongst themselves. Ben stood. ¡°They''re doing their jobs,¡± he said. ¡°Time for us to do ours.¡± He turned to face Samantha. ¡°We need you to tell us where to land on the moon.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Have you got a table computer?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes, in the main lab.¡±


    Samantha stood, followed by the other senior researchers, and Ben led the way out of the room.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    The table computer was six feet across. They all gathered around it while Samantha pulled up a pre-Scatter Cloud map of the moon.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°The thing is, the moon is way more fractured than most people think. It''s been bombarded by meteors and small asteroids for four and a half billion years, and every impact breaks up the crust a little bit more. On earth, the crust heals itself. Water flows through cracks and fissures depositing dissolved chemicals, gluing the pieces together again. This doesn''t happen on the moon. Any fissure that forms in a piece of rock stays there forever.¡±


    ¡°Isn''t there vacuum welding on the moon?¡± asked James.


    ¡°Vacuum welding isn''t what most people think. Two surfaces in a vacuum can stick together, but they don''t join. They can still slip and slide. The only things on the moon that can stick bits of rock together are ice and magma, and with the temperature up there rising all the time we can¡¯t count on ice.¡±


    ¡°But there''s certainly enough magma up there at the moment,¡± said Frank.


    ¡°Indeed, but we need magma that¡¯s flowed into ancient cracks and solidified again. We need places that have been flooded by magma and that have suffered very little cratering since.¡±


    ¡°The seas,¡± said Ben. ¡°The maria.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. The sites of massive impacts billions of years ago. Places where an asteroid punched clean through the moon''s crust, allowing molten rock to well up and fill the crater.¡± She indicated the dark areas on the lunar map. ¡°Also, it has to be somewhere in this area, the area directly opposite the magma ocean, because this will be the centre of the prograde area during apogee.¡±


    ¡°The...?¡± said Alice.


    ¡°Sorry. The part of the moon''s surface facing forward as it moves through space. And apogee is when the moon¡¯s furthest from Earth. Sorry, I''m so used to talking to people familiar with astronomical terms...¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± said Alice, smiling. ¡°I remember now. I just needed my memory jogging.¡±


    Samantha touched the table and rotated the image to bring the moon''s eastern hemisphere to the front. ¡°The largest sea in that area is this one. Mare Fecunditatis. The Sea of Fertility. Fortunately, it is very lightly cratered. It¡¯s a vast basin of solidified magma eight hundred and forty kilometres across. It has a region here, on its north west. A place called Sinus Successus. The Bay of Success. Almost exactly in the area you want.¡±


    Ben nodded. ¡°Yes, I was already thinking that. The Bay of Success is a hundred and thirty kilometres across, though. We need to narrow it down a little.¡±


    ¡°Well, I assume the closer to the prograde point, the better. Also, even the maria are covered by a layer of loose rock, regolith, that can be several metres deep. I assume you need an area of bare bedrock. Something you can firmly attach a cable to.¡±


    ¡°That would be correct,¡± said Kate.


    ¡°So you need a small meteor crater. Something small enough to have cleared the regolith from the area but not big enough to have seriously fractured the bedrock itself. A crater around a hundred metres across, say.¡± She zoomed in closer. From far out, the Bay of Success looked smooth and featureless, but as she zoomed in features that had been invisible came into view. Craters, wide but low ridges and valleys. Fissures where the ancient magma bedrock had shrunk as it cooled. The occasional boulder thrown up by a large impact elsewhere on the moon.


    ¡°Well, as you can see, there are quite a few craters of the right size,¡± said Samantha. ¡°A couple of dozen, actually. Will any of them do or are there other criteria they have to satisfy?¡±


    ¡°There has to be an area within easy walking distance where the shuttle can land,¡± said Ben. ¡°It doesn''t matter if the landing gear¡¯s wrecked. They''ll be using the Chinese shuttle to land back on Earth. They just need a place a couple of miles long that they can belly flop on. Somewhere reasonably smooth and flat and without any boulders large enough to do any really serious damage to the craft. It needs the crew to survive and for the engines to still work. Other than that, it doesn¡¯t matter how smashed up it gets.¡± He leaned forward to see the image on the table better. ¡°I thought at first that the whole area looked promising, but now...¡±


    ¡°How will they take off again?¡± asked Samantha.


    ¡°Very easily. They''ll have the mass dampener, don''t forget. They¡¯ll be able to just push themselves back up into space.¡±


    ¡°They may not even have to do that,¡± said James. ¡°The atmosphere will expand upwards when the dampener''s on. It''ll probably carry the shuttle up with it.¡±


    Samantha stared at him, then nodded and returned her attention to the map. ¡°Well, even the very best maps, the ones sent back by the Copernicus probe, only have a resolution of about fifty centimetres, but boulders tend to follow the scaling rule, just like everything else. Ten small boulders for every large one, ten large ones for every very large one, and so on. That means that where there are large boulders there are likely to be smaller ones, and places without large ones are unlikely to have smaller ones. There''s always the possibility of getting a nasty surprise, of course, but any place that looks smooth and level at the very highest resolution will probably be suitable...¡±


    Suddenly she gave a start. ¡°I just remembered! The moon''s such an active place now! An atmosphere blowing things around, the Chinese turning the moon''s gravity on and off causing the whole place to erupt in turmoil. While the gravity was turned off, boulders the size of houses could have been carried from one side of the moon to the other! This whole map must be hopelessly out of date!¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t be helped,¡± said Ben. ¡°We just have to do the best we can with the information we have.¡±


    ¡°I''ve gotten so used to the moon being eternal and unchanging.¡± Samantha stared from one of the scientists to another with pure anguish in her eyes. ¡°The footprints of the astronauts lasting for millions of years, stuff like that. All my life, that¡¯s been the most basic fact about the moon, and now it¡¯s no longer true. It''s become a completely different world.¡±


    ¡°You''re still the world¡¯s best expert. If anyone can help us, it¡¯s you.¡±


    ¡°You don''t understand! I''m an expert on the moon as it was! Everything I knew, everything I learned from a lifetime of study, it¡¯s now worse than useless. It could actually lead us astray. You''d be better trying to find a landing site yourselves. You won''t have false preconceptions caused by knowledge that¡¯s no longer true.¡±


    ¡°We understand the situation,¡± said Ben gently. ¡°We can take it into account while we deliberate. We are fortunate in that the part of the moon we¡¯re interested in may be the very place that¡¯s changed the least. It''s the place where the winds converge, where the weather''s the calmest. That also means that any boulders that found themselves up in the air while the moon was almost massless will have come down close to their original positions. Most of your knowledge will still be accurate.¡± Samantha stared at him, still looking anxious, and Ben put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ¡°Proceed on the assumption that the knowledge we have is still accurate,¡± he said, ¡°and we¡¯ll bear in mind that things might have changed.¡±


    Samantha nodded. She put her hands over her face, swept back her hair and took a deep breath. ¡°Okay then. I''ll tell the computer to search for areas within the Bay of Success more than two miles across without boulders. That didn''t have any boulders. Before last week.¡±


    ¡°How long will that take?¡± asked Ben.


    Samantha was already linking her phone to the University of Bristol computer, though, and downloading some analysis software. ¡°Wish I still had my old phone,¡± she muttered. ¡°This stupid little thing is barely up to it.¡±


    ¡°Karen,¡± said Ben, ¡°Get her a proper phone, top of the range. A tablet too.¡± Karen nodded and left the room.


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Samantha. ¡°That''s it. Shouldn''t take a moment...¡± Even as she spoke, areas of the map displayed on the table changed colour, becoming overlapping squares of bright orange. ¡°Those are areas without large boulders. So far as we know. Now I''m telling the computer to show craters smaller than one hundred and fifty metres across.¡± Small circles of red popped up, almost none of them in the orange areas. One of them was right alongside one of them, though, and Samantha brought it to the centre of the map. ¡°I think that¡¯s our best shot,¡± she said. ¡°Designated crater 0834, 6133. Ninety five metres across, six metres deep. Looks like bare bedrock at its centre. I''ll look up the Copernicus data, see if there''s anything else I can tell you about it.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said Ben. ¡°If you find anything to rule it out, please tell me immediately, but in the meantime that¡¯s our destination. I¡¯ll go inform the people who need to be informed. Thanks, Sam.¡±


    She smiled at him, then turned back to her phone and went to work.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    The others left her to it. As they left the room, Ben strode ahead of the rest, keen to start making phone calls, but James called out to him. Ben paused and waited for the wheelchair to catch up to him. ¡°Something on your mind?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yeah. What she said about the moon having suffered turmoils is quite right. What she forgot to mention is the effect the Earth''s gravity might have had on it during the close approach. Look at what happened on Earth. Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis. The moon''s likely to have suffered a hundred times worse. The entire surface of the moon might have changed out of all recognition.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it might,¡± replied Ben. ¡°What do you suggest?¡±


    ¡°For all we know, the Bay of Success might not even exist any more. The whole region might have been broken up into tilted slabs by massive earthquakes, er, moonquakes. There may be nothing, anywhere, that a shuttle can land on.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying we should abort the mission? Tell Eddie to just give up and come home?¡±


    ¡°I''m saying we need to know more. We can¡¯t see the surface of the moon because it¡¯s covered by clouds, but maybe we can do a radar mapping.¡±


    Ben looked thoughtful. ¡°Like the way they mapped Venus? Can a normal radio telescope do that? Just point it at the moon and do a scan?¡±


    ¡°I''ve got no idea, we''d need to ask someone who knows about that kind of thing, but we need to do it while the Bay of Success is facing the Earth. The longer we wait, the closer it gets to the limb of the moon and the harder it''ll be to get an accurate map, and we need an accurate map! We can¡¯t plan a mission like this when we have absolutely no information on the current state of the region.¡±


    ¡°And if we find that the whole area has been broken up into tilted slabs?¡±


    ¡°Then there¡¯ll be no point in risking Eddie''s life any more. We can bring him home.¡±


    ¡°One thing I do know about radar mapping is that it¡¯s very low resolution. About a hundred metres a pixel, something like that. There might be new escarpments dozens of metres high that wouldn''t show up. Even a cliff just one metre high would destroy the shuttle.¡±


    ¡°But if hundred metre cliffs showed up on the scan, then we''d really know the landing site is totally screwed up. As it is, Eddie won''t know until the shuttle breaks through the cloud cover. Yes, I know they could turn on the mass dampener and just turn around, but they''ll still have made a two day journey for nothing, with another two day journey to come home. We might be able to spare him that.¡±


    Ben nodded. ¡°You''re right,¡± he said. ¡°I''ll make some calls. There''s a guy I know. Even if he doesn''t know himself, he''ll know people who do.¡±


    ¡°And probably best not to worry Samantha with this just yet. She''s in enough of a state as it is.¡±


    Ben nodded again and strode off to his office.

 Chapter Thirty Four

    Eddie had no way to measure the passage of time. He spoke into the microphone, but there was no reply. Not from Mahdia, not from the space station, not from the shuttle. The astronauts must be using a different frequency, he realised. In all the excitement of the hurried, improvised launch, they''d forgotten to give him their frequency and so he had no way to talk to them. He supposed he should just be grateful they hadn''t overlooked something more important, like fuelling the fourth stage. Hopefully, they''d still be able to find him, he thought. They had radar. They¡¯d probably be able to just see him when they got close enough. They could just tap on the capsule to tell him they''d arrived and that it was time to leave.


    He looked out through the tiny portholes but saw nothing but stars. He felt a strong temptation to open the hatch and poke his head out to get a better look. Better not, he thought. He didn''t know how long his spacesuit would be able to keep him alive. He might need the air in the capsule with him. The shuttle crew was out there somewhere. They were coming for him. So just relax and wait.


    He counted his heartbeats to try to keep track of time. His normal resting heartrate was about sixty beats a minute, which would have made it easy, except that his heart was currently racing with anxiety. On top of that, he was almost feverish with dehydration and had a splitting headache. His whole body was trembling with nervous energy. He looked out through the potholes again. Still no sign of them. He tried calling into the microphone again. Maybe Mahdia would hear him by some fluke combination of circumstances. He looked at the controls of his communications system, on the sleeve of his spacesuit, and thought about fiddling with them. Maybe he''d hit the right frequency by chance and be able to talk to the shuttle crew. Better not, he thought. Who knows in what way be might screw things up?


    So, nothing to do but wait. So relax. Close your eyes and daydream. Maybe doze for a few minutes. Anxiety gnawed at him, though. His mind filled with things that might have gone wrong. Some problem with the shuttle that had forced them to return to the space station, leaving them unable to do anything but watch helplessly as Eddie dropped back into the atmosphere and began to burn up...


    The tapping sound startled him so much that he cried out loud and jerked against the straps holding him in place in the couch. His head spun to the porthole and he saw a helmeted face looking in at him, grinning. Eddie grinned back with relief, the weight of anxiety lifting from him so quickly that he felt almost overjoyed in comparison. The head moved away, and a moment later he heard someone fiddling with the hatch from outside. His hands flew to his helmet to make sure it was on and fastened correctly. Then the hatch opened and the air blew out in a rush. He felt the spacesuit billowing out around his arms and legs as the external pressure of the air went away.


    He unfastened the safety straps and allowed himself to drift upwards, out of the couch. The other figure reached in and grasped his arms, helping to pull him up. Getting out of the capsule was a lot easier than getting in had been. He just swam through the tiny opening, and then the immensity of empty space was all around him. He paused where he was and just stared. He''d heard descriptions of what it was like, but no words could capture the reality, the glory, of seeing the universe clearly, without the Earth¡¯s dusty, moisture laden atmosphere getting in the way. It was overwhelming, hypnotic! He completely forgot where he was and what he was supposed to be doing and just stared.


    The astronaut must have understood what was happening to him because he gave him the moment to appreciate it. He must have had a similar moment on his first day in space. After a while, though, he tapped Eddie on the arm until he turned to look at him. The astronaut gestured to the shuttle, floating patiently nearby, and Eddie gave him a thumbs up to show he understood. The astronaut was wearing wings, he saw. More gaudy and ornamental than those used by Europeans. He deployed them, then grabbed Eddie''s arm and pulled him closer so Eddie could put his arms around him. The wings automatically adjusted themselves to accommodate the new centre of mass. Then he took the controller in his hand and used it to turn themselves to face the shuttle.


    Suddenly, Eddie jerked with panicky realisation. The two mass dampeners were still in the Mercury capsule! He''d forgotten them! He slapped the astronaut urgently on the arm until the man pushed him a small distance away, allowing them to see each others'' faces. He was looking puzzled. What¡¯s wrong? Eddie imagined him wondering.


    Eddie pointed back to the Mercury capsule. They were drifting away from it, he saw, and he was shocked to see how small it looked. The astronaut nodded, understanding, and he used the wings to take them back to it. Eddie was shivering with how close to disaster they''d just come, and all because of a simple lapse of memory. How close he¡¯d come to going aboard the shuttle, watching the capsule burn up as it re-entered the atmosphere, and only then remembering the mass dampeners. He imagined having to explain to Ben and the others what he¡¯d done. The crippling guilt, so great that it would have physically incapacitated him. He imagined Ben''s anger at his stupidity. After all he¡¯d done, all the effort he¡¯d gone to to persuade so many people. All undone because Eddie had been too busy admiring the view to remember why he was up there. History would remember him as the world¡¯s greatest idiot! The man responsible for God alone knew how many deaths over the years and centuries to come.


    He was still shaking at how close to disaster he¡¯d come as he reached back into the capsule and pulled out the two containers. Now, was there anything else he¡¯d forgotten? This was his last chance. Once they left, there would be no coming back. His headache was getting worse. It was so hard to think! There hadn''t been anything else, had there? Just the two mass dampeners. Dammit, he wished he could talk to someone and ask them! He looked around the capsule. There wasn''t anything else in there. It must be just the two mass dampeners. He was still racking his brains, though, trying to think, as the astronaut gently urged him back out of the capsule. There seemed to be an urgency in his actions now, as if they were getting dangerously close to re-entering the atmosphere. Eddie nodded and allowed the other man to gather him close again. The astronaut then used the wings to carry them both to the shuttle, small jets of fire emerging from the struts pointing behind him.


    Eddie went through the airlock first, and was glad to do so. The air in his spacesuit was suddenly beginning to get a little stale and he had a nasty feeling that his oxygen had run out. The feeling got worse as the airlock cycled, and by the time the inner door opened he was finding it hard to breathe. He grappled with his helmet, and there was someone helping him. Together they got it off and Eddie gasped in relief, sucking in great lungfulls of sweet air. Damn, but that had been close!


    ¡°How do you feel?¡± asked a woman''s voice.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Eddie replied, looking up at her. It was the American woman, he saw, dressed in shorts and a tee shirt. She looked strained, he thought, as if she''d been under a lot of stress recently but was doing her best to cope. ¡°Have you got anything to drink?¡± he asked her.


    ¡°They said you would be thirsty,¡± she replied, handing him a drinking bulb. He put the straw in his mouth and sucked in the warm liquid. He felt his body soaking it in like a dry sponge. His headache began to fade and his brain seemed to light up with new awareness and alertness, as if he¡¯d been walking in a dream for the past several hours. No wonder he¡¯d almost forgotten the mass dampeners! The dehydration must have been affecting him worse than he¡¯d thought, and it was only now that he was able to drink freely again that he was noticing it.


    He emptied two more drinking bulbs before the astronaut who''d accompanied him from the Mercury capsule emerged from the airlock, his wings folded neatly behind his back. He took off his helmet to reveal a friendly face with sweaty, black hair plastered to his forehead. ¡°At last, we can talk,¡± he said. ¡°I am Koshing Goushi. Pleased to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Eddie Nash,¡± said Eddie, holding out his hand.


    The engineer shook it warmly. ¡°This is Susan Kendall, the only scientist remaining in space, other than yourself. Our pilot is Benny Svanberg. He is still up in the cockpit, getting ready for our return to Harmony.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, you must be shocked by my manners,¡± said Eddie to the American woman. ¡°Guzzling water instead of thanking you and introducing myself.¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± replied Susan, smiling. It made lines appear around her eyes, making her look tired. ¡°I know you had to reduce your weight to come up here. Is that our mass dampener?¡± She pointed to the smaller of the two boxes Eddie had brought aboard.


    ¡°Yes. I''m told I have to give it to you.¡±


    He handed it to her and she smiled guiltily as she took it. ¡°I''m sorry,¡± she said, ¡°But I have very strict orders. This has to remain in my possession until we get to the moon.¡±


    ¡°I quite understand.¡±


    ¡°Come on,¡± said Koshing. ¡°We had better get you strapped in. Benny is probably keen to get back, and we have all got a lot of work to do.¡±


    It took Eddie a few minutes to get the hang of moving around in microgravity, but with the help of the others he was finally in the main cabin, being helped into one of the mission specialist seats by Susan. Benny leaned across to look back at him. ¡°So this is our hitchhiker,¡± he said, grinning. ¡°Lucky we''re going your way.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°If you could just take me as far as Luton, that''d be great,¡± said Eddie. ¡°I don''t suppose you have anything to eat, do you? I haven''t eaten in two days.¡±


    Susan produced a tube of something and handed it across. Eddie was so desperate to eat that he twisted the lid off and squeezed it into his mouth without taking the time to read the label. Once again, he felt that he could have eaten three or four of them in quick succession, but now that his most desperate needs had been satisfied he found himself thinking of the impression he was making on the others. He ate slowly and carefully, therefore, even though it was the most delicious thing he''d ever eaten, his mouth watering so badly that a couple of drops of saliva broke away and floated up in front of his face. He reached a hand up to collect them, hoping that no-one else had noticed.


    He kept on squeezing the tube after it was empty, and then felt a light tap on his arm. He looked around and saw Susan, sitting in the seat beside his, holding out two more tubes of food. ¡°They said you would be hungry,¡± she said, smiling with amusement. Eddie grew red with embarrassment, but he smiled as he took them.


    ¡°All strapped in?¡± called back Benny. ¡°Okay then, Let¡¯s get oriented.¡± He pressed controls on the panel in front of him and the shuttle slowly rotated until it was pointing in the right direction. Eddie opened the second food tube and began squeezing the light grey paste into his mouth. ¡°There we go. Right then. Orbital transfer burn in three, two, one...¡±


    ¡°No, wait!¡± said Eddie, startling the others. ¡°Wait a minute!¡± He dropped the food tube, which spun in the air beside him, and struggled to unfasten the straps holding him into the couch.


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Koshing, looking alarmed.


    ¡°Forgot to turn off the mass dampener. The shuttle will be weighing way less than it should. Probably throw us off course when you fire up the engines.¡±


    ¡°It certainly would,¡± said Benny. ¡°Do you just flip a switch or something?¡±


    ¡°Yes. There''s only the one switch, accessible by means of a flap in the side.¡±


    ¡°I will get it then,¡± said Koshing, rising from his seat. He dropped back down the ladder to the lower deck.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been thinking straight,¡± Eddie apologised again. ¡°Probably low blood sugar or something.¡±


    ¡°Well, at least you remembered in time,¡± said Benny. ¡®Anything else we should know about?¡±


    ¡°No, that''s it. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Well, don''t feel bad. You''re in a completely alien environment with virtually no training. The rest of us trained for years before we were allowed up here. Don¡¯t worry, we''ll look out for you.¡± Eddie smiled back gratefully.


    Koshing returned a moment later. ¡°Done,¡± he said. ¡°Is there a way to tell if it is working, or not working?¡±


    ¡°Not really. Down on the ground, things feel lighter. Up here, I suppose you''d have to measure momentum or something. See how much effort it takes to move something. If we had time, we¡¯d have rigged up a gizmo to do that. Maybe I still can, if you let me have access to your machine shop. I''ll need something to do for the next couple of days.¡±


    ¡°We''ll see,¡± said Benny, using the same tone of voice as a parent to a child that had just asked for an expensive new toy. ¡°So, are we ready to go now?¡±


    Koshing looked back at Eddie, who nodded. ¡°I think so,¡± he said.


    ¡°I generally prefer something a bit more positive than just I think so,¡± said the Swede with a frown. ¡°Still, if that''s the best we can do... Commencing orbital transfer burn in three, two, one...¡± He glanced back at Eddie, who had the food tube in his mouth again. He nodded encouragingly. ¡°Ignition,¡± said Benny, and he touched the control.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Fifteen minutes later, Koshing called Eddie to the front section of the flight deck. ¡°There it is,¡± he said, pointing to the space station, now visible through the cockpit window in the vee between the topmost two of the nose flaps. ¡°Your home for the next two days.¡±


    Eddie stared in wonder. From this distance, it seemed to be almost all solar panels, shining brilliantly in the sunlight. The habitation modules were a small cluster of cylinders in the middle with a network of spars and girders all around them. Eddie had seen it before, of course, in photographs and television reports, but it somehow seemed more real now that there was nothing but a thin sheet of aluminium silicate glass between him and it.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful!¡± he said. ¡°I feel there should be classical music playing.¡±


    ¡°We have plenty of music in the computer,¡± said Benny, who¡¯d missed the reference. ¡°Just tell me what you want.¡± Eddie just laughed.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be coming back over the Americas soon,¡± said Koshing. ¡°We should be back in contact with Mahdia any moment. They''ll probably be pleased and relieved to learn you¡¯re still alive. If you sit here in the co-pilot''s chair, you can talk to them while Benny goes through the docking procedure.¡±


    Eddie thanked him and took his place in the chair while Koshing went back to sit beside Susan. Eddie was transfixed by the sight of the space station growing ahead of them, though, and it was several moments before he realised that there was a voice speaking to him through his earpiece. ¡°Mark!¡± he said guiltily. ¡°Is that you? Sorry, everything up here''s a bit overwhelming.¡±


    ¡°You made it, then,¡± said Mark Pigeon, sounding happy.


    ¡°Yes, your rocket performed flawlessly. Please pass on my compliments to your engineers.¡±


    ¡°I''ll do that. So, what''s space like?¡±


    ¡°Exhilarating! Terrifying! I still can''t believe I''m actually up here. My life before the Scatter Cloud seems a lifetime ago. It was just over three weeks ago! Three weeks ago, I was just living my normal life. Everything seemed so, so ordinary! So safe and predictable, and now I''m up in space... I''m up in space! I keep running the words through my head and I just can''t seem to make myself believe it. I''ve done a spacewalk! I''m about to dock at a space station! It has to be a dream, doesn''t it? I''m going to wake up in a minute.¡±


    ¡°You''ll be fine,¡± said Mark. ¡°You just need a little time to get used to it. We can see you on radar, You¡¯re getting close to the space station now. Do you need me to shut up so the pilot can concentrate?¡±


    ¡°The computer does most of it,¡± said Benny. ¡°Talk as much as you want.¡±


    Mark and Eddie chatted, therefore, as the shuttle oriented itself to the docking port and edged closer. ¡°I can see the other shuttle,¡± said Eddie. ¡°That''s the one we''ll be going to the moon in, I assume?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Koshing. ¡°As soon as we have finished installing the fuel tanks and connecting them to the engines, which we need to get done within a week. A ridiculously insufficient length of time.¡±


    ¡°The space station''s fuel tanks,¡± said Eddie. ¡°The fuel you use to boost the space station up into a higher orbit?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± said the engineer. ¡°We¡¯re probably sacrificing the space station, but if we succeed in putting the moon back in its proper orbit it will be worth it.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps they''ll be able to launch some more fuel tanks before the space station comes down.¡±


    ¡°Doubtful,¡± said Koshing, ¡°But who knows. Harmony''s in a good orbit now. We''ve probably got a few months, but I imagine that the folks on the ground will have other priorities for the next few years.¡± Eddie nodded soberly.


    The shuttle''s guidance computer took them smoothly in, and Eddie gave Mark Pigeon a running commentary as they went. ¡°I can see the hatch. There are little lights all around it. We''re just a few metres away now. The shuttle¡¯s nose covers are starting to obscure my view of the docking port, I can''t see how close we are now. It probably says somewhere on the control, panel, ah, Benny¡¯s pointing at something. Oh yes, I see. Fifty centimetres, thirty, ten... There''s just been a clunk. Is that it? Are we docked now?¡±


    ¡°Soft docked,¡± said Benny. ¡°In case we have to...¡± There was another clunk. ¡°There we are. Now we¡¯re hard docked. Welcome to Harmony, Eddie.¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Inside the space station, Koshing helped Eddie get out of his spacesuit and the layers beneath it, and then showed him how they showered in space. Then he found him a pair of coveralls to wear. Then, clean, sweet smelling and decent, Koshing introduced him to the rest of the space station''s crew.


    ¡°This is Paul Lewis, the commander of the space station. This is Yu Han, the other recent arrival and a longstanding colleague of mine. And this is Jayesh Gudka, our doctor. Since we are all in excellent health and he does not have the expertise to help us with the Colibri, he is the one who will be helping you to get your space legs. By the time we leave, you will be swimming around the place as though you had been born here.¡±


    ¡°By which time it will be an obsolete skill,¡± said Susan. ¡°This place will never be occupied again, and it might be a generation before they can spare the resources to build another.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°Frank, he''s the guy who created out first home made mass dampener, he reckons we¡¯ll soon be able to build devices that can reduce mass by ninety, maybe even ninety nine percent. The one we''ve got now, the seventy six percent one, it''s so crude it''s laughable. He''s already working on the Mark Two. If they can reduce mass by ninety nine percent, they''ll be able to build an entire space station on the ground and lift it up into space in one go. And not made of cylinders small enough to fit on top of a rocket. Imagine a single structure the size of a cruise liner with open spaces inside it the size of an Olympic swimming pool. Maybe even an actual swimming pool!¡±


    ¡°A swimming pool in zero gravity?¡± said Jayesh. ¡°That I would like to see!¡±


    The others laughed, all except Eddie. ¡°Perhaps they could finally create a rotating space station, to create artificial gravity,¡± he said.


    ¡°Never going to happen,¡± said Paul, though. ¡°A rotating space station would be constantly trying to pull itself apart. If Harmony suffered some kind of catastrophic failure, it would just carry on floating here. Survivors in various modules would have a chance to get to safety. A rotating space station would fly apart, though, with different bits thrown into widely separate orbits. Survivors in one bit might find themselves thousands of miles away from everyone else, with no way to get back before they run out of air. No, gravity in space is a fantasy and always will be.¡±


    ¡°But they tried once, didn''t they?¡± said Eddie. ¡°The Skyhook project. Two modules on either end of a long tether, spinning around each other to produce gravity. The tether we¡¯re going to use to tow the moon.¡±


    ¡°Skyhook was an experimental new way to launch spacecraft out of Earth orbit to other planets,¡± said Koshing. ¡°The artificial gravity thing was an afterthought. A bunch of engineers persuaded the Director to let them try, since the cable was already up here. It worked, but Paul''s right. No-one''s ever going to build a rotating space station. It''s just too dangerous.¡±


    Eddie couldn''t believe that, though. The idea was just too beautiful to let go. A giant wheel in space, turning slowly and majestically, with people walking around inside it as though they were still on the surface of the Earth. If enough people want it, it¡¯ll happen, he thought, and surely many, many people would want it. They¡¯d find a way to make it safe and one day they would build it. Maybe even within his lifetime.

 Chapter Thirty Five

    The Skyhook cable was, it turned out, more a ribbon than a cable. Forty millimetres wide by a quarter of a millimetre thick, it was wound around a spool just under two metres across, reminding Eddie of an old style cinema reel.


    ¡°We''re going to tow the moon with this?¡± said Jayesh in disbelief.


    ¡°This is M5,¡± said Paul. ¡°A kind of synthetic polyethylene. It can support a weight of twenty five thousand kilograms.¡±


    ¡°The moon has a mass of...¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know,¡± Paul interrupted, ¡°but when they fire up the mass dampener, the original alien one, the mass of the moon will be greatly reduced, or at least that¡¯s what they tell me.¡± He glanced at Koshing, who nodded.


    ¡°Our observations of the moon while our device was activated confirm that the mass of the moon was reduced to less than one hundred million tons,¡± the engineer confirmed.


    ¡°That''s still rather more than twenty five thousand kilos,¡± said Jayesh. ¡°About four thousand times more.¡±


    ¡°A hundred million tons was the maximum it could have been, according to how the moon''s atmosphere behaved. For all we know, the mass of the moon might have been reduced to just a few grams.¡±


    ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is that it''s a pure guess what the mass of the moon will be when you turn that thing on.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I suppose I am.¡± Koshing turned to Eddie. ¡°You have experience with this alien device. What is your assessment of its capabilities?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Eddie looked embarrassed as he steadied himself with a hand on a support girder. After a week in space he still hadn''t gotten the hang of just floating there, in the middle of the module. A skill that the others made look effortless. ¡°The fact is, I only joined the study team a few weeks ago. It''s taken me this long just to get up to speed.¡±


    ¡°You''re kidding me!¡± said Paul, staring in astonishment.


    ¡°The man who was supposed to come up here, Frank Wiliams, he couldn''t come because he weighed too much. I was chosen because I''m lighter...¡±


    Paul and Jayesh laughed together while Eddie floated in the middle of the module, feeling small. ¡°So the first we''ll know whether this is going to work,¡± said Susan, ¡°is when we turn on the engines and see if the tether snaps under the strain.¡±


    ¡°The tether won''t snap,¡± said Benny. ¡°The manoeuvring engines can only produce twenty thousand kilos of thrust, well within the cable''s tolerances. If the moon weighs a hundred million tons we''ll just sit there and go nowhere, but the cable won''t snap.¡±


    ¡°Well, let''s just cross our fingers then and hope for the best,¡± said Paul. ¡°Come on, let''s get it into the shuttle.¡±


    He unfastened it from its storage space on the wall of storage module two and carefully guided it towards the hatch into the connecting node past a crowded mass of other bits and pieces that had been useful once, over the life of the space station and which had been left up there in case they turned out to be useful again one day. Eddie thought it reminded him of his father''s garage, which was supposed to house his car but which had been unable to contain it since about the second year after it had been built.


    ¡°Nice and slow,¡± Paul warned them. ¡°Remember, it''s got a lot of mass, a lot of momentum and if we damage it it might not unspool properly. The slightest dent to its frame might snag it, and an awful lot of lives might be depending on this.¡±


    ¡°Lucky this was up here,¡° said Jayesh as they squeezed it gently through the hatch with just a couple of centimetres of clearance on either side. ¡°What would you have done if it wasn''t here?¡±


    ¡°You have other tethers,¡± said Eddie. ¡°You''ve got that cable our Chinese friends used to cross from the Long March rocket.¡±


    ¡°It is not a load bearing cable,¡± said Koshing. ¡°It cannot take more than a few kilos of strain. It is meant for guidance, not towing massive objects.¡±


    ¡°It might still be enough if the mass of the moon is reduced enough,¡± said Eddie. ¡°When there¡¯s this much at stake, you use what you¡¯ve got and hope for the best. And you¡¯ve got other tethers. Everything from electric wiring to steel cables ten centimetres thick.¡±


    ¡°Only In ten metre sections,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°Yes, but it might have been possible to connect it together somehow.¡±


    ¡°How are we going to attach it to the moon?¡± asked Jayesh. ¡°I doubt you¡¯re going to find a convenient eyelet attached to the crater floor.¡±


    ¡°Glue,¡± said Paul. ¡°Cyano-silicate glue. Instant grab, load bearing. Can withstand harsh environments. We''ll polish a section of moon rock, attach the end of the cable to a metal plate and glue the two together. If the cable can stand the strain, the glue certainly will.¡±


    ¡°What do you normally use that stuff for?¡± asked Eddie.


    ¡°It was used during the construction of the boom assemblies, the framework connecting everything together. The pressurised modules, the labs, the solar panels. They sent us quite a bit, just in case, and we had some left over.¡±


    ¡°I thought it was just bolted together,¡± said Eddie. ¡°You know, nuts and bolts. What happens if you want to take it apart again?¡±


    ¡°Why would we want to do that?¡±


    ¡°You might want to rearrange something, put it together in a different order, to make room for something.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re in space,¡± said Paul, smiling. ¡°One thing we¡¯ve got plenty of is room. Besides, this place only had a projected life expectancy of about ten more years. If there¡¯s a more efficient way to put it all together, they''ll do the next one that way.¡±


    They took the Skyhook cable through the Rotterdam module to the airlock to which the Colibri was docked. This time the clearance was even smaller, but they managed to squeeze the spool of cable through the opening, through the short tunnel and through the inner door into the lower deck of the shuttle''s cabin. ¡°The only place it can go is against the far wall,¡± said Benny. ¡°We''ll fasten it there.¡±


    ¡°It''s not going in the cargo bay, then?¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°The cargo bay''s full of the fuel tanks,¡± said Paul. ¡°There''s no space left.¡±


    ¡°Bit of luck that the tanks fit so exactly, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± said Benny with a smile. ¡°It was the shuttle that brought them up in the first place. They were designed to fit in the cargo hold.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Now I feel stupid. All the work you¡¯ve been doing, the past week. I thought it was to fit the fuel tanks into the hold.¡±


    ¡°The work was to connect the fuel tanks to the manoeuvring engines. They have their own fuel tanks, but they''re far too small to get us to the moon. We had to half dismantle the main engines to connect the tanks to the manoeuvring engines.¡±


    ¡°Why not just connect them to the main engines?¡±


    ¡°Because they''re way too powerful. They can throttle down to a certain extent, but not enough. We need precise control for what we¡¯re going to do. Better to leave the smaller engines burning for longer.¡±


    They then spent the next couple of hours moving more tools and equipment into the shuttle. Everything they thought they might need to solve any problem that might crop up. By the time they had finished there was only a narrow walkspace in the cabin¡¯s lower deck between equipment and supplies securely fastened to every available surface. Benny noted the mass of every individual item and totted it up on his phone to produce a total that he frowned at.


    ¡°Too much?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°More than I''d like,¡± the Swede replied.


    ¡°You want us to take some of it back out?¡±


    Benny looked as though he was about to say yes, but then he shook his head. ¡°We might take out the very thing we need when we get there,¡± he said. ¡°A better way to save fuel is to leave as soon as possible. As soon as we¡¯re absolutely certain we''ve got everything we need.¡±


    ¡°I''m pretty certain we¡¯re as close as we¡¯re going to get,¡± the Commander replied. ¡°Anything else we might need is too big to get into the shuttle anyway. What''s the very soonest we can leave?¡±


    ¡°Get everyone aboard and we can leave right now. Are you still sure you want me for this mission? Yu and Koshing are both space construction engineers and they can both pilot a shuttle.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°They can pilot Chinese shuttles.¡±


    ¡°The Colibri and the Jinlong are pretty much identical...¡±


    ¡°But there are small differences. Things you might pick up on faster than either of the Chinese. Things that might make the difference between success and failure.¡±


    ¡°What if the thing that makes a difference between success and failure is having a dedicated space construction engineer on the team?¡±


    ¡°Susan is a space construction engineer. She has the training, anyway, and she''s had plenty of practical experience the past few days. Besides, we''re not going to be in space. We¡¯re going to be on the surface of the moon, and none of us has experience there. I chose you because I think you¡¯re the best man for the job, but you can turn it down if you want...¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot! If you want me, you got me.¡±


    ¡°And I want you.¡± Benny nodded. ¡°Okay,¡± said Paul in a louder voice. ¡°You heard the man. Eddie, Susan, get yourselves strapped in. Jay, Kosh, Yu, see you when we get back.¡±


    ¡°You''re going now?¡± said Jayesh in surprise.


    ¡°Why not? No time like the present. Benny, contact Canberra and tell them we¡¯re launching in ten minutes.¡± The Swede nodded and kicked himself up through the interdeck access hatch, into the flight deck.


    ¡°Well, good luck young man,¡± the Indian said to Eddie. ¡°Don''t do anything I wouldn''t do.¡±


    ¡°Spoilsport,¡± said Eddie with a smile.


    ¡°The last mission to land on the moon, for a thousand years at least,¡± said Jayesh. "Or however long it takes for a new solid crust to form. You''ll probably be more famous to generations to come than the first.¡±


    ¡°If we succeed.¡±


    ¡°Then make sure you succeed.¡±


    The Indian held out a hand and Eddie shook it solemnly. Jayesh then went around the others offering them his best wishes as well while the two Chinese astronauts said farewell to Eddie. ¡°Hopefully we''ll be seeing you again in five days,¡± said Yu into his ear as she gave him a firm hug. ¡°Come back alive, Eddie.¡±


    ¡°I''ll do my best,¡± Eddie promised her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t catch any bugs,¡± said Koshing with a smile.


    Eddie assumed that was some kind of Chinese colloquial expression of farewell and so he promised he wouldn''t, which made the engineer smile wider. ¡°Well, better get in my seat,¡± he said. ¡°Don''t want to get left behind.¡±


    ¡°No, that wouldn''t do at all.¡±


    Eddie shook his hand and then followed Benny and Susan up into the flight deck.


    ¡°Look after the station until I get back,¡± said Paul to Jayesh.


    ¡°You can count on me.¡±


    ¡°If anything should go wrong, don¡¯t try to mount any rescue missions. The Jinlong doesn''t have the fuel to go very far anyway, but it only has one job to do now, and that¡¯s to get the three of you back down to Earth. Hopefully, we''ll be going with you, but if something should happen to us while we''re fairly close, don''t come after us. Just get yourselves safely back home.¡±


    ¡°Depends how close fairly close is. If you blow a fuel line within the first five minutes...¡±


    ¡°If we blow a fuel line, the most likely result will be a rather exciting explosion, and the explosion might not be immediate. It might happen after you¡¯ve come alongside us, so no rescues. No matter what the circumstances. That''s an order.¡±


    Jayesh recognised when his commander was serious. He was no longer bantering. He really meant it. ¡°Yes, Sir,¡± he said therefore. ¡°No rescues.¡±


    Paul nodded. He led out his hand and the Indian shook it. ¡°Good luck,¡± said Jayesh.


    ¡°To all of us.¡±


    Paul shook hands with the Chinese astronauts, and then they and Jayesh left the shuttle. Jayesh paused a moment in the Rotterdam module and looked back. Paul raised a hand to him one last time, then closed the hatch. ¡°Copy hatch closed,¡± said Benny¡¯s voice over the intercom.


    ¡°Roger,¡± said Paul, and he followed the others up into the flight deck.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°Everyone ready?¡± asked Benny as Paul took his place in the co-pilot¡¯s chair. Behind them, Eddie and Susan were already strapped in. Eddie looked excited and was staring out of the small porthole beside him at the glorious, curving globe of the Earth. They were over the Pacific ocean at the moment, and a huge, cyclonic storm system was on its way towards the coast of Indonesia. Someone was having a bad day.


    Susan, in contrast, looked stressed and unhappy and just stared ahead at the back of Benny''s head. Eddie had gathered, while talking to the others, that she was totally fed up with space and wanted nothing more than to go home. She had the lockbox containing the alien mass dampener latched to the bulkhead beside her, and whenever she looked at it, it was with pure loathing. If not for the responsibility her countrymen had given her over it, she¡¯d still be on the space station, it was true, but at least she wouldn''t be getting any further from the Earth.


    Eddie reached out a hand and touched her lightly on the arm. ¡°You okay?¡± he asked. She pulled her arm out of his grasp and said nothing.


    Paul strapped himself in. ¡°You okay back there?¡± he asked.


    Eddie looked across at Susan again. They were still docked at the space station. It would only take a moment for Susan to get out and for one of the Chinese engineers to replace her. For a moment he thought about suggesting it, but then Susan turned her head to smile at him. ¡°We''re okay,¡± she said.¡±


    ¡°Okay then,¡± said Paul. ¡°Benny, as soon as we cast off, you become the commander. You okay with that?¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± the Swede replied. ¡°Ready to cast off.¡±


    ¡°Then cast off when you''re ready, Commander.¡±


    Benny touched some of the controls in front of him. ¡°You there, Canberra?¡±


    ¡°Where else would I be?¡± said a familiar voice.


    ¡°George! That you? You''re going to be our man on the ground?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I drew the short straw. We show you¡¯re all ready, Pluvier.¡±


    ¡°I''m green across the board, too,¡± replied Benny. ¡°I see no reason to hang around. You okay with that, George?¡±


    ¡°Cast off when ready, Pluvier.¡±


    ¡°Roger that. Preparing to unlock.¡± He touched a couple of controls. ¡°Unlocking bolts and latches.¡± Through the cockpit window, they saw the space station begin to slowly recede as the spring loaded arms pushed them gently away. ¡°We are undocked and floating free in space. One metre from the docking port. Two metres. Three metres.¡±


    Eddie felt a thrill in his stomach as various parts of the space station drifted slowly past the porthole beside him. He looked forward, through the cockpit window, and saw Jayesh and the two Chinese engineers waving to them through a window in the Rotterdam module. He waved back.


    ¡°Ten metres from docking port,¡± said Benny. ¡°Closing nose covers.¡± The two halves of the shuttle''s nose slowly closed, covering the airlock. Normally it would have left the shuttle looking smooth and sleek, but the nose would be taking some of the worst punishment when they landed on the moon and so they''d added plates of thick steel armour to it. It left the shuttle looking as if it had some kind of malign tumour on its nose, but there''d been no time to make it prettier. Eddie didn''t mind so long as it increased his chances if getting home alive.


    ¡°Commencing yaw manoeuvre,¡± said Benny.


    Eddie felt a slight sideways acceleration as the shuttle''s nose slipped to the right, the spacecraft rotating about a vertical axis. The docking port disappeared from view and the space station''s huge solar panels came into view in front of them.


    ¡°Yaw manoeuvre complete. Commencing pitch manoeuvre.¡±


    This time the view slid downwards and a moment later there was nothing but clear, starry sky in front of them. Meanwhile, the shuttle continued to recede from the docking port in the same direction. Eddie looked out through his porthole again and saw Jayesh still at the window, gazing soberly out at them. Eddie waved a hand to him again, but with rather less enthusiasm this time. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was saying goodbye forever, that he would never be coming back.


    He wondered how angry people would be with him if he backed out now, if he begged Benny to take him back to the space station so he could wait there until he could return to Earth. He thought about all the people who''d done so much to get him there. He thought about all the millions of people down on Earth who would die if their mission failed. He had do stick with it, he knew, but even so the temptation was almost overpowering. He only had to say one word and the ground controllers would insist he stay behind. They wouldn''t risk the safety of the other crew members with a man who might crack and become psychotic at any moment. He only had to say one word... He put his hands on the arms of his seat, squeezing hard, and clamped his mouth shut. Beside him, a small sound came from Susan. He ignored it.


    ¡°Ready for acceleration burn,¡± said Benny.


    ¡°Copy that,¡± said George. ¡°We show you good to go.¡±


    ¡°Copy that. Acceleration burn in five minutes.¡±


    ¡°I thought it was called trans-lunar insertion,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°Look who''s been doing his homework,¡± said Benny. ¡°It''s not like every former mission to the moon. We¡¯re not going on a minimum fuel orbit. It didn¡¯t matter much to the Apollo astronauts where the moon was in its orbit around the Earth, but we have to be there at a specific time, when the moon''s at its furthest distance from the Earth. That¡¯s just two days from now. To get there in time we have to catch up with the moon, so we fire the engines until we¡¯re going really fast, then turn around when we¡¯re half way and fire them again to slow down. We¡¯ll then be close enough and slow enough for the moon''s gravity to catch us.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the Sesame Street version,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Why do we have to wait five minutes? Why can''t we go now?¡±


    ¡°Well, the Sesame Street version is that we have to wait until we¡¯re in the right place in our orbit around the Earth,¡± said the Swede, looking back at him and grinning. ¡°Otherwise we¡¯ll go off in the wrong direction.¡±


    ¡°Ouch. I¡¯ll just shut up, shall I?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps this would be a good time for you to turn on your wonderful machine.¡±


    Eddie reached down to where the home made mass dampener was fastened to the bulkhead beside him. He flipped the switch. He''d adjusted its power supply the day before so that its area of effect didn''t quite reach the rear of the ship. The exhaust from its engines would still have full mass and so would still provide its normal thrust. ¡°It''s on,¡± he said.


    ¡°When I first heard about that thing, it seemed like magic to me,¡± said Paul, shaking his head. ¡°Strange how we¡¯re almost just taking it for granted now. The power to move worlds, small enough to be packed in a suitcase.¡±


    ¡°Are we wise enough to use that power, do you think?¡± asked Susan.


    ¡°Are we foolish enough to have the power and not use it?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°Is it foolishness to show humility, to admit that we might not know what plans God has for us?¡±


    ¡°If God¡¯s plans are for mankind to suffer terribly...¡± He somehow sensed Susan glaring at the back of his head, though, and thought better of completing the sentence. Eddie stared at her in surprise and Susan glared at him as well until he turned away and looked back out the porthole.


    Benny was going through a checklist while studying readouts on his screens. ¡°Everything okay?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°Seems to be,¡± the Swede replied. ¡°Plenty of red lights on the main engines, of course. I know that''s because we stripped out most of the pipework, but I''m worried it might be hiding problems in other areas. And we probably damaged some of the diagnostic sensors when we hooked up the fuel tanks. It might not show a problem even if there was one.¡±


    ¡°You want to go around? Take another ninety minutes to take another look?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already studied it so much that I see welds and tubing every time I close my eyes. No, we''ve got to take the plunge sometime. Might as well be now.¡±


    ¡°Might as well be now,¡± Paul agreed.


    ¡°Engine ignition in twenty seconds,¡± said Benny. ¡°Brace yourselves, back there. Last chance to back out.¡±


    Eddie and Susan glanced at each other. ¡°If you¡¯re going, I''m going,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°Me too,¡± said Susan.


    ¡°Are we still good to go, George?¡±


    ¡°You''ve got a green light from down here, Benny. Good luck to you all. By the way, someone went to the press. The whole world knows what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°Probably inevitable,¡± said Paul. ¡°The whole world will see when we fire up the engines. We couldn''t keep it a secret if we wanted. Speaking of which...¡±


    ¡°Engine ignition in five seconds,¡± said Benny. ¡°Everyone think happy thoughts. Two, one...¡± There was a sound like the wind blowing through the trees and Eddie felt himself being gently pressed back in his seat.

 Chapter Thirty Six

    ¡°He''s doing it then!¡± said Margaret, staring at the screen of the tablet, propped up on its stand on the table. ¡°He¡¯s actually going to the moon! I thought he was joking!¡±


    ¡°If it is a joke, half the world¡¯s in on it,¡± said Richard.


    They were in one of the prefabricated housing units that had been hastily erected on the grassy field next to the airport buildings. From outside came the noises of workmen putting up more, along with the sounds of large trucks bringing more of the huge, plastic wrapped kits. The Lewis family had been given one of the first to be completed, the authorities doing their best to keep their promise to Paul Lewis to keep his family safe. The whole place still reeked of fresh glue and green pine, though, and Margaret had opened all the windows in an attempt to get some fresh air in. It made the place chilly, but that was preferable to having swimming heads from solvent fumes. According to the health and safety regulations there was no way they were supposed to be in there yet, but health and safety had become a relative term lately.


    The whole family was squeezed into the one apartment, with the three women sharing one of the small bedrooms and the two men in the other. There was also a tiny bathroom and a kitchen/dining room, all on the same level. They were more than happy to be there, though. Not just in the apartment but in the airfield. Safety was more important than comfort at the moment. The airfield¡¯s perimeter fence had been repaired and most of the injured civilians had been moved away to one of the new field hospitals. The airfield was secure once more, and armed guards patrolled the grounds.


    The furniture was whatever they could find. Folding chairs, a table made of planks laid across packing crates, the whole thing covered by a bed sheet. Power for the lights and the oven came from a portable fuel cell that stood in the corner of the room. Another corner held a drum of fresh water and a distillation unit that recycled what they used. Their beds were just blankets and sleeping bags laid out on the ground. The one thing they seemed to have plenty of was blankets, even after so many of them had been cut up to make bandages. They''d even draped some of them across the windows as makeshift curtains. Margaret had no idea why an airfield needed so many blankets, but she was glad for them now. When Len had tried to go back into their old apartment block to get some personal items a pair of guards had turned him away, saying that the damage caused by the tsunami had left the building too unstable.


    At the moment, they were all gathered around the table, watching the news reports. A camera on the space station was showing the shuttle receding in the distance, steady jets of fire coming from the manoeuvring thrusters that had only been designed to burn for a few minutes at a time. A commentator was naming the members of what was being called Lunar Rescue Two, and a lot of attention was being given to Eddie Nash, the scientist who had had virtually no space training and who had heroically volunteered to risk his life for the benefit of all humanity.


    ¡°What about the others?¡± said Richard indignantly. ¡°They''re risking their lives too!¡±


    Hazel moved next to Margaret and slipped her hand into hers, squeezing tightly. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t be doing this unless it were safe, right?¡± she said, her voice begging her to agree.


    ¡°Depends how desperate they are...¡± began Len. Margaret shot him a sharp look that silenced him.


    ¡°Paul''s always trying to reassure me,¡± Margaret said to Helen. ¡°Whenever they make a movie set in space, they always try to make it look dangerous, to make it exciting, but Paul says it hasn''t been like that for a long time. Going into space now is just like going to work on a bus.¡±


    ¡°Unless you''re Eddie Nash,¡± said Cathy.


    Margaret ignored her and kept talking to Hazel. ¡°He''s always telling me how safe it is in space now. He tells me how long it¡¯s been since the last serious accident in space. I keep worrying, of course. We all worry, but the one thing uppermost in their minds when planning a mission is safety. Another death in space could set the space program back decades.¡±


    ¡°I suspect the crew''s safety may not be their first priority this time,¡± said Richard, though. ¡°So long as there''s even a small chance of success...¡±


    ¡°They say they¡¯re going to actually land on the moon!¡± said Hazel, staring at her mother desperately. ¡°It wasn''t designed to land on the moon! There are no runways on the moon!¡±


    ¡°They must have something figured out or they wouldn''t be doing it,¡± said Margaret.


    ¡°But why? Why take such a risk? What if the moon stays in its new orbit? The world will survive. We¡¯ll adapt. There''s no need to risk people¡¯s lives.¡±


    Margaret didn''t reply, she just squeezed her daughter''s hand tighter. There wasn''t any need to say anything. They all remembered the news broadcasts over the past few days as the world came to terms with what the moon had done to it. Conditions in British refugee camps were bad enough, with the crowded conditions and the threat of disease, but they were idyllic compared to other parts of the world. In the west coast of Africa in particular, government in many countries had broken down completely, with armed gangs roaming the countryside and entire cities taken over by local warlords.


    And even in the wealthy countries of western Europe the good news seemed likely to be only temporary. Food stocks, with strict rationing, were estimated to be just enough to last until the next harvest, and that was without the future lunar perigees that would take place if Paul Lewis''s mission failed. If there were more floods, more earthquakes, more tsunamis, then what was happening in Africa could very well happen elsewhere. Hazel knew this. The brutal facts were being repeated on every news broadcast until she had refused to look at them any more. Only the news of what her father was doing had brought her back.


    The news that morning, before the news of the space mission had broken, had all been about London. With the waters now having receded, business was beginning to get back to normal, for the time being at least. The Prime Minister was making a big thing about remaining at Ten Downing Street for morale purposes. It was just below the twenty metre mark and so the water had only just been lapping at the doorstep. On top of that, the building had been waterproofed and the fury of the tsunami had been spent by the twisting and turning of the Thames before it got that far. A spokesman had been talking about plans to build a new seawall along the eastern side of Parliament Street to protect the western side of the city and to build a new Houses of Parliament in St James Park. London would survive, Richard Garrison had said, and would continue to be the centre of a prosperous, forward looking United Kingdom. More and more businesses were already making plans to move to higher ground, though. If the capital was going to be hit by twenty metre floods every few months, the city was likely to become a ghost town.


    On the tablet, Mark Pigeon was in a television studio being interviewed by a reporter. He was looking very pleased with himself as he explained how one of his rockets had been modified to take a man into space while graphics and diagrams flashed up on a screen behind them. ¡°They keep talking about this Eddie Nash,¡± protested Richard. ¡°They''re forgetting there are three more people on that shuttle.¡±


    ¡°I expect they''ll get round to talking about all of them,¡± said Len. ¡°What school they went to, what shoe size they wear. It''ll be two days before they get to the moon. They''ll need something to talk about until then.¡±


    ¡°You think they''ll send reporters here?¡± asked Cathy. ¡°To talk to us?¡±


    ¡°When they remember Eddie''s not alone up there,¡± said Richard. ¡°We should all think about what we''re going to say to them.¡±


    ¡°I know what I''m going to say to them,¡± said Hazel acidly.


    ¡°Easy, Spud,¡± said Richard gently. ¡°It''s not their fault. If you want to get angry at someone, get angry at Eddie. It was probably all his idea to begin with. Saw his chance at glory. Save the world, become a hero.¡±


    ¡°Hey, the guy¡¯s risking his life!¡± said Len. Helen turned to stare at him, her eyes wide. ¡°I mean,¡± said Len hurriedly, ¡°Some risk. A little risk. The Colibri shuttles have been flying for over ten years, after all, and there''s never been a death aboard one of them.¡±


    ¡°But they were never designed for this!¡±


    ¡°But if I had to bet money, I''d say it''ll be fine. Your dad¡¯s always talking about those shuttles, saying what a great design it is. A sturdy work horse, he calls it. Everything about it is designed to keep the crew alive, no matter what kind of damage it takes.¡±


    ¡°So the crew can be rescued, no matter where on earth it lands,¡± said Hazel. ¡°Yes, I get that, but who''s going to rescue them if they can''t take off from the moon again?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we should turn it off for a while,¡± said Margaret, reaching for the tablet.


    Helen reached out to stop her. ¡°I want to see it,¡± she said. ¡°I want to know how dad''s doing. I want to know exactly what he¡¯s up against up there.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but let¡¯s keep positive, shall we? He''s aboard a good ship with a good crew. He''s going to be okay and he''s going to come home.¡±


    ¡°When are you due to talk to him again?¡± asked Richard.


    ¡°Later today, at five. They said you can all come this time. I think they want to keep his mind occupied. They''re worried he''ll get bored or something.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°They¡¯re not going to get cabin fever in just two days,¡± said Len. ¡°People at sea can be cooped up in a small boat for weeks and they¡¯re okay.¡±


    ¡°They''re just playing it safe, I expect,¡± said Margaret. ¡°With so much at stake, they don¡¯t want to take any chances, and I¡¯m glad they¡¯re not. I''d spend all day talking to him if I could.¡±


    ¡°Is there any reason we can''t?¡± asked Helen. ¡°Surely in this day and age they can set up some kind of permanent link up.¡±


    ¡°They probably don¡¯t want him distracted when he¡¯s got work to do,¡± said Richard. ¡°And this day and age isn''t what it was just a couple of weeks ago. The shuttle used to communicate with Canberra by means of a network of relay satellites, but most of them aren''t there any more. They have to communicate directly now, and they can only do that when they''re over that part of the world. Also, their radio doesn''t have much range. They were never supposed to be more than a few thousand kilometres from the nearest relay satellite. They¡¯re expecting to lose contact with them before long. We¡¯re lucky we can talk to them at all.¡±


    The others nodded, and they watched the rest of the news report in silence.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°Engine cut off in ten seconds,¡± said Benny, staring at the readout on the console in front of him.


    Around him, the others were strapped into their seats. They''d been up and moving around for the past couple of hours while the small manoeuvring engines pushed the shuttle on, but for some reason the ground controllers wanted them all sitting down and strapped in when the engines were cut off. Eddie had no idea why. He would have thought that the turning off of the engines meant a lessening of the danger, not an increase, but he would have been pleased to admit that rocket engines were one of the few things he knew almost nothing about. He noticed that the others were all tensing up and he felt himself tensing up as well, even though he had no idea what he was supposed to be afraid of.


    ¡°Three, two, one...¡± said Benny. The faint noise and vibration that had filled the shuttle abruptly stopped, along with the very small force that had been pushing them all back against their seats. ¡°Engine cut off successfully accomplished,¡± said the Swede. ¡°We will now be coasting for forty five hours twenty minutes until we begin the deceleration burn.¡±


    ¡°Are we on course?¡± asked Paul as Eddie reached down and turned off the mass dampener.


    ¡°You''re looking good, Lunar Rescue Two,¡± said George from the intercom speaker. ¡°Course and speed are in the pipe. We''ll keep an eye on you and tell you if you have to make a course correction later.¡±


    ¡°Please God we don''t,¡± said Paul earnestly.


    ¡°I don''t get it,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Why are you so afraid of the engines?¡±


    ¡°Because we installed the pipework ourselves,¡± said Benny. ¡°In four days, and none of us are even remotely qualified to do any such thing.¡±


    ¡°And even when the experts do it,¡± said Paul, ¡°they don¡¯t fire it up until they''ve spent weeks going over it again and again, looking for mistakes. Bad welds, microfractures, that kind of thing.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s when you turn it on and off that these things tend to reveal themselves,¡± said Benny. ¡°That''s when it¡¯s all under the most stress.¡±


    ¡°When we tow the moon, we''re going to be turning the engines on and off again every few seconds for several hours,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°Please don''t remind us,¡± said Paul, and Eddie could have sworn there was actual fear in his voice. Good God, he thought. What have I gotten myself into?


    Paul turned back to the monitor screen on the console in front of him, where George Jefferson''s face was looking out at him. ¡°How''s the weather?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Looking good,¡± George replied. ¡®The Sun¡¯s calm and peaceful. No solar flares, and no sign of any developing. I think you have every chance of getting there and back without incident.¡±


    Paul nodded, and Eddie relaxed as well. The shuttles, European and Chinese both, had never been designed to leave the protection of the Earth¡¯s magnetic field and so were vulnerable to radiation, especially radiation from the sun. If a large solar flare were to erupt while the shuttle was away from the Earth, the shuttle might well arrive at the moon with only corpses aboard. So long as the sun remained calm, though, they would only receive the equivalent of a whole body CT scan over the entire duration of their mission. Even so, though, Benny was turning the shuttle to put the fuel tanks between them and the sun, to reduce their exposure as much as possible.


    As a consequence, the moon was directly ahead of them in the cockpit window. A featureless dull grey sphere now almost reduced to its normal size as it continued to recede from the Earth. It was slowing down, crawling through space, as if pausing to catch its breath after its mad dash past the Earth and gathering its strength ready for its next devastating plunge, bringing more chaos and destruction. More floods, more earthquakes. More tsunamis. Unless they could stop it and drag it back into its proper orbit. Eddie felt himself beginning to tremble as he contemplated the magnitude of what they were on their way to attempt and what the consequences of failure might be.


    He snapped himself out of his gloomy thoughts. ¡°So,¡± he said. ¡°Two days. What are we going to do to pass the time?¡±


    ¡°Pray,¡± said Susan. ¡°Pray for guidance and wisdom.¡±


    ¡°For two days? I know, how about I spy with my little eye something beginning with...¡±


    ¡°Eddie,¡± said Paul, a warning tone in his voice. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°If we''re going to just sit here for two days, the time''s going to drag,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Maybe I should have brought a good book.¡±


    ¡°There''s plenty of books in the shuttle''s memory,¡± said Benny. ¡°If you want one we haven''t got, you can upload it next time we''re in contact with Canberra.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I wasn''t actually serious about the reading. Fiction¡¯s always seemed a bit pointless to me.¡±


    ¡°We''ve got biographies, histories, collections of essays on all subjects...¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Seriously though, what do astronauts do to pass the time? What did the Apollo astronauts do while they were on their way to the Moon?¡±


    ¡°Mission control generally gives us things to do to occupy our minds. On the space station, there¡¯s always plenty of routine housekeeping duties that need doing.¡±


    ¡°You can show me how to convert your mass dampener into a mass amplifier,¡± said Paul, releasing his seat straps and allowing himself to float out of his couch. ¡°In case anything, you know.¡±


    ¡°In case I die before we get there,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Yeah, okay. Makes sense.¡± He unfastened his own seat straps and allowed himself to float upwards. He and Paul then turned themselves upside down so that the metal case containing the mass dampener, which had been fastened to the bulkhead beside his feet, was now on the wall level with their heads. ¡°This being weightless sure has its advantages sometimes,¡± he said.


    ¡°It really does,¡± agreed Paul. ¡°We''ve got twice as much space as you¡¯d think.¡±


    Eddie undid the latches and opened the front of the case. Inside, a tangled mass of components gleamed in the light of the cabin LEDs. ¡°Frank wrote a users manual for this thing, explaining what each component is and what we think it does.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I''ve read it,¡± replied Paul. ¡°We all have.¡±


    ¡°You all have?¡± Eddie looked around at Susan and Benny. ¡°You may come to regret that. This is going to be the world¡¯s most tightly regulated technology, even more so than nuclear weapons. Anyone who knows how to make one of these is going to be watched for the rest of their lives. If you think being on the sex offenders register is bad, that¡¯s nothing to what you''ve let yourselves in for. Imagine if a terrorist figures out how to make one of these.¡±


    ¡°I can imagine,¡± said Benny from the Captain''s seat.


    ¡°Can you? The amount by which they reduce mass is fixed, but the volume they affect grows with the amount of power you put into it. Imagine if you attached this very device here to an industrial generator capable of powering a city.¡±


    ¡°It would melt, or explode, surely,¡± said Benny.


    ¡°It wouldn''t. Most of the power goes elsewhere, into another dimension or something. It would reduce the mass of everything within a radius of several kilometres by seventy six percent. Now you might think that wouldn''t mean much...¡±


    ¡°The atmosphere,¡± said Benny. ¡°It would reduce the mass of the air itself.¡±


    ¡°Clever man,¡± said Eddie. ¡°The air would rise, as if it were less dense, as if it were hot or made of helium. Air would rush in to fill the low pressure region created. You''d have hurricane force winds rushing in from all directions while the rising air would probably spin, like a cyclone. Do it in the middle of a city and the city would be devastated, and you can make one of these with components easily purchased from any supplier of lab equipment. No need for plutonium or any other controlled substance.¡±


    ¡°You said earlier that it might one day be possible to create a device that can reduce mass by ninety nine percent,¡± said Paul. ¡°If one of those were connected to an industrial generator...¡±


    ¡°You saw what the Chinese device did to the moon,¡± said Eddie. ¡°A mass dampener could literally destroy the world. I can''t tell you how happy I am that there are none of the original alien devices left on Earth, and I hope it¡¯s a long time before we create a device that can match their performance. Imagine if one of them were to fall into the hands of one of those religious nuts who thinks the world has to end before the Day of Judgement can happen. So just imagine how closely you¡¯ll be watched from now on. Every friend you make, every conversation you have, every email you send, for the rest of your life. You may have bodyguards, in case terrorists try to kidnap you. Bad guys may try to kidnap your loved ones to make you talk. The knowledge you now have will be a curse from which there¡¯s no escape.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they''ll make mass amplifiers all around the world, to cancel out the effects of a terrorist mass dampener,¡± suggested Benny. He looked scared as the meaning of Eddie''s words sank in.


    ¡°A mass amplifier in the hands of a terrorist would be just as devastating,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°And you¡¯re working on these devices?¡± said Paul. ¡°There are people who hate the inventors of nuclear weapons, who hate the people who make and service them. That''ll probably be nothing compared to how much you¡¯re going to be hated.¡±


    ¡°Even after we use it to save the world,¡± agreed Eddie. ¡°I can tell you now that I''m not going to be doing any more work on the mass dampener. Other people will, I know that, but I just can''t. Not knowing what they''re capable of. There are plenty of other things in the alien spacecraft to study. I''ll probably focus on coherent matter instead.¡±


    ¡°That might also make a terrible weapon,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Eddie agreed,  ¡°but that''s true for every scientific advance we make. We''re already capable of destroying the world with what we¡¯ve got. There are just as many nuclear weapons in the world as there have ever been. The danger with the mass dampener is that they can be so small. The aliens created a device that can destroy a planet and that''s so small that it fits comfortably in your pocket. That¡¯s what I want no more part of, but science still has to advance. If we succeed, the mass dampener will save millions of lives. Who knows how much benefit the next great breakthrough will bring?¡±


    The others just looked at him and Eddie found himself growing suddenly self conscious. He''d never been one for speeches, but that one had just popped out of him as if he¡¯d been rehearsing it for weeks. He hadn''t realised how strongly he felt about it until the words were actually coming out of his mouth, but now that he¡¯d said it he knew that he meant every word. If he got back to Earth alive he was finished with mass dampeners. He felt a powerful sense of disbelief at how casually Ben Wrexham and the others had taken the prototype dampener to Martinique on a commercial flight with only a couple of hired private security guards to look after it. That had been before they realised just what a Pandora¡¯s box they''d opened.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± he said, dragging himself back to the here and now. ¡°To turn a mass dampener into a mass amplifier. Well, the first thing you have to remember is to be very, very careful. Some of these components are very fragile, and I wasn''t able to bring any spare parts, because of the weight. You break it, you bought it. We''ve all bought it.¡± He looked up at Paul to make sure he understood. The serious look on his face told him he did.


    ¡°So, basically, you have to swap these two components around, but to do that you first have to dismantle this assembly here...¡±

 Chapter Thirty Seven

    Just over a day had passed since Lunar Rescue two had left the space station, and life back on Earth tried to return to normal. James and Jasmine Buckley were preparing their evening meal in their Wetherby home, something that they liked to do together, he peeling and chopping the vegetables while she prepared the meat substitute; a soya based paste that looked and tasted just like the real thing.


    Soymeat had been just a fad until a couple of weeks before, something that vegetarians made a big show of promoting and that everyone else by and large refused to even try, but since the first perigee farmland had become so scarce and precious that very little of it could be spared for the raising of meat. Every field on which animals had once grazed was being looked at to see of it was suitable for the growing of crops. Some would always be too stony, shallow or steeply inclined, of course, but those with deep, fertile soil were soon destined to be ploughed up, the animals sent to slaughter and not replaced. Soya was something that people were going to have to get used to, whether they liked it or not.


    In the next room, Matthew was playing on the MiniVirt with his sixteen year old cousin Bethany while Bethany''s parents, Jasmine''s sister and her husband, were working. He at the power plant, she at an advertising agency. The children had gotten home from school about an hour before and, after changing clothes and tapping out their homework on their tablets, had immediately gone back to the game that Bethany had been playing for about eight months and that Matthew had adopted with enthusiasm. He was acting as sheriff in the city that she ruled until he¡¯d learned the game well enough to start a city of his own, thereby avoiding all the mistakes that new players usually made and allowing him to hit the ground running. James and Jasmine smiled as they listened to the two of them arguing over how they were going to deal with the outlaws that were raiding their outlying villages and attacking merchant caravans. They both seemed to favour a hard, military response but differed in how many troops should be diverted from patrolling the neutral territory between themselves and a rival city that was making aggressive moves towards them.


    ¡°We should have done this years ago,¡± said Jasmine as she chopped up an onion into tiny cubes, wiping her watery eyes with one hand. ¡°In a house big enough for all of us, of course. I miss having a spare room.¡±


    ¡°If we were in a house big enough for all of us, they''d probably make us take in another family,¡± said James. ¡°Strangers. Not family, people we know. Ted, one of the security guys, was telling me he¡¯s coming under tremendous pressure to take a family in. The council knows they''ve got all that extra room, and he hadn¡¯t got any extended family, nor does his wife, so it would have to be strangers. He''s got two daughters, sixteen and thirteen, so you can imagine what he''s going through right now.¡±


    ¡°They can''t force people to take families into their homes!¡±


    ¡°They can''t force them, no, but they can put enormous social pressure on them. Like all those telly adverts.¡±


    Jasmine¡¯s nodded soberly. You could hardly turn the television on now, on any channel, without seeing reporters wandering around the refugee camps interviewing the homeless people there. Photogenic people with cute children in their arms tearfully telling how awful life was for them, begging anyone with a spare room to take them in. The latest episodes of all the current soap operas had been hastily reshot to cover the situation, with the characters telling each other how they had to do something, with characters with unoccupied spare rooms becoming the villains, hated by everyone else. People all across the country were responding in their droves, but out of fear rather than compassion. Fear of what people would think of them, or do to them. James and Jasmine counted themselves extremely fortunate that they had trusted family members they could take in. Not everyone was so fortunate.


    James sat the saucepan of chopped carrots in his lap and wheeled his chair across the kitchen to fill it with water from the sink. As he was doing so, his phone chirped. He put the saucepan down on the draining board and pulled his phone from his pocket. ¡°It''s from Chile,¡± he said. ¡°The laser radar map.¡±


    ¡°Bit late now,¡± said Jasmine as her husband opened the email and looked at the attached map. ¡°The shuttle''s been out of contact for nearly ten hours. If you see something, we¡¯ve got no way to warn them.¡±


    James was silent, staring at his phone. Jasmine dropped the chopped onions into the pan of soymeat and stirred it in. Her vision blurred as the onion fumes brought more water to her eyes and she wiped it away again. As soon as she could see again she looked over at her husband, still sitting silently in his wheelchair, still staring at his phone. ¡°James?¡± she said, suddenly nervous. ¡°What is It?¡±


    He looked up, his face pale with fear. He looked down at his phone, swallowed nervously and looked up at her again. ¡°I think we¡¯ve got a problem,¡± he said in a quiet voice.


    Jasmine hurried over to his side and looked down at the image on his phone screen. A low resolution map of the Bay of Success. Grainy, the pixels so large as to be visible, something almost unheard of these days. Thick, black lines ran across it where some problem with the radio telescope had prevented them from receiving data from those areas, but the image was complete enough for them to see a thick, white line that hadn''t been there before. Jasmine felt her mouth go dry at the sight of it and her legs were suddenly weak. She had to clutch hold of the sink to steady herself.


    ¡°Is that an escarpment?¡± she asked. ¡°What you were afraid of?¡±


    ¡°That would be my guess,¡± her husband replied. ¡°A crack right across the Bay of Success, with one side lifted at least a mile higher than the other. Right across the place where the shuttle''s going to land. The thick cloud means they won''t see it until just before they crash right into it. I have to tell Ben.¡± He was already calling him up from his list of contacts.


    ¡°Is there some way we can warn them?¡± asked Jasmine. James just looked at her and she saw that he had nothing, no idea at all. All he could do was hope that Ben would think of something. Jasmine walked across the kitchen, suddenly full of nervous energy, her whole body trembling. She''d only met Eddie a few days before. She''d barely got to know him, but she liked him and now he was going to die and there was nothing they could do about it. In the other room the children continued to squabble, not a care in the real world. She found herself wanting to go in there, grab the MiniVirt and throw it against the wall.


    ¡°Ben!¡± said James into the phone. ¡°The laser radar image just came in from Chile. We''ve got a problem. A big one.¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    An hour later, James was back in the Wetherby research centre with Ben, Alice, Karen, Stuart and Samantha, all who could be reached at short notice. Jasmine had had to stay at home with the children but was teleconferencing, her face looking out from one of the screens on the wall. Another screen showed the laser radar map.


    ¡°This is bad,¡± said Ben flatly.


    ¡°You have a flair for understatement,¡± said Karen, kneading her temples with the fingers of her left hand.


    ¡°Are we sure it¡¯s an escarpment?¡± asked Alice. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s a line of white ash thrown up by a nearby volcano.¡±


    They all looked at Samantha for the answer, although none of them really needed it. Alice had been speaking from pure desperation. ¡°It''s a topographical map,¡± she said. ¡°It shows how much of the radar signal is being reflected back to us. Those aren¡¯t colours, it''s radar brightness. Besides, there¡¯s nothing in the direction its pointing that has ever been seismically active, not even billions of years ago. If it were somewhere else it might be the result of a river of lava flowing through a sub surface fissure, erupting somewhere and throwing up a line of ash, but even then the ash would be thicker at one end, tapering towards the other. I''m afraid an escarpment is the only plausible explanation for this feature.¡±


    ¡°Where''s the crater they¡¯re supposed to land at?¡± asked Stuart.


    ¡°Right here,¡± said Ben, touching the display. His finger left a yellow dot right beside the white line. ¡°Less than two kilometres from it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they''ll come to a stop before running into it.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± replied Samantha. ¡°The whole reason for using the Bay of Success in the first place was because it¡¯s a large area of unbroken rock. We can''t use anything in that area now. How great an area does the map cover?¡± she asked James.


    ¡°I asked them to focus on the Bay of Success, but they did an area around it as well. The entire eastern half of Mare Fecunditatis.¡± He zoomed the map out until the Bay of Success was just a small area in the middle. Then he zoomed in on the Sea of Fertility. ¡°There seem to be a few new features in the north,¡± he said, pointing to some white marks that had no counterpart on any existing moon map, ¡°but the rest seems unchanged.¡±


    Samantha stared at the image. ¡°I wish it was better quality,¡± she said. ¡°I can barely see anything! There are craters fifty miles across that just don¡¯t show up here.¡±


    ¡°We just have to do the best we can with what we¡¯ve got,¡± said Ben.


    Samantha noted the slight tone of rebuke in his voice and arched an eyebrow at him, but then she returned her attention to the map. ¡°Well, this was always good, solid ground, and so far as I can tell it still is. The problem is that it¡¯s quite a bit further from the prograde point, over a hundred kilometres. Does that matter?¡±


    ¡°Beggars can''t be choosers,¡± said Ben. ¡°If that''s the closest we can get then it¡¯ll have to do. I assume we¡¯re still looking for a small crater. Large enough to have cleared the surface regolith but not large enough to have fractured the underlying rock.¡±


    Samantha nodded. ¡°There are several in the area.¡± She pulled up a map of the moon and overlaid it on the laser radar map. ¡°We should avoid this area, I think. This crater is likely to have fractured the bedrock for a dozen klicks in all directions. That one too. This area here is our best bet, I think. Between Webb B and Webb S.¡± She indicated two smaller craters named after their proximity to the large crater called Webb. ¡°There''s a whole rash of small craters in this area. They could land anywhere in this twenty kilometre region and there''ll be a small crater nearby they can use.¡±


    ¡°Okay, so that''s the new landing site,¡± said Ben. ¡°All we¡¯ve got to do now is figure out how to tell Eddie.¡±


    ¡°Is there any chance they''ll pick up a normal radio signal?¡± asked Stuart.


    ¡°We''ll try, of course,¡± said Ben, ¡°But we should assume not. We need something else.¡±


    ¡°We could just get a radio telescope to blast a super powerful signal to them,¡± suggested Alice. ¡°Something so powerful they''d pick it up even if they were half way to Alpha Centauri.¡±


    ¡°The problem is that they may not be listening,¡± said Ben. ¡°They¡¯re not expecting word from us, they think they''re cut off. They think they know what they have to do. They may have turned their receiver off.¡±


    ¡°They''d leave it on, surely,¡± said Alice. ¡°Just in case.¡±


    ¡°Even if they do receive it, they have no way to reply,¡± said Stuart.


    ¡°The Deep Space Network could hear them, surely,¡± said Alice. ¡°If they can receive signals from the Neptune probes...¡±


    ¡°They send data at very low bit rates, because of the signal to noise ratio,¡± said Ben. ¡°You can''t send a voice over that kind of distance, not without the kind of equipment the Apollo missions carried. No, they can''t reply. We just have to send them signals in every different way we can and hope that they receive one of them. So, let''s put our heads together and see what we can come up with...¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°Engine shutoff complete,¡± said Benny. ¡°Deceleration burn accomplished.¡±


    Everyone relaxed, including Eddie. Over the past two days, as they''d chatted together and the others had explained the challenges they''d faced and overcome in order to modify the engines, Eddie had come to understand just what a gamble they¡¯d been facing the first time they used them. ¡°Well, that''s twice,¡± he said, ¡°and we''re still here. Looks like you guys did a good job after all.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± conceded Paul. ¡°But the load we¡¯ll be putting on them when we start towing the moon... Perhaps we''re better just not thinking about it.¡±


    Benny turned the shuttle to place the engines between them and the sun again. As he did so, the moon came into view through the cockpit window. Streaks of cloud, moving visibly in the supersonic winds, were lit up with almost continuous flashes of lightning any one of which dwarfed the largest lightning discharges ever seen on Earth. It was a majestic but terrifying display that pulled the eye irresistibly and held them, forcing them to stare in awe. They¡¯d been watching it grow over the past two days, they should have been used to it, but it somehow seemed more real now that they''d been caught in its gravitational pull. Before, if the engines had failed, they would have simply sped past it, continuing on their elongated orbit until they came close to Earth again, some twenty days later, but now they belonged to the moon until they used their engines again to break away from it.


    ¡°Where''s Lunar Rescue One?¡± asked Paul. ¡°It should be nearby.¡±


    Benny looked at the cockpit radar display. ¡°I''m guessing that''s it there,¡± he said, indicating a green blob all alone in the darkness. ¡°Two hundred klicks from us, pretty much right in our path. We''ll need to perform a six minute burn to match velocities with it, starting in twenty minutes. Be ready with your wonderful machine, Eddie.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t turned it off yet. Might as well leave it on if we''re going to need it again so soon.¡±


    ¡°Time to suit up, Susan,¡± said Paul, floating up out of his seat. ¡°Last one to get their wings on buys the beer.¡±


    ¡°Did someone say beer?¡± said Eddie, giving the mass dampener a quick looking over. The fuel cell powering it was a little warm but he didn''t think it was anything to worry about.


    ¡°When we get back home,¡± said Paul. ¡°After the cheering crowds and the medals, when we have a little time together, there will be beer.¡±


    ¡°Swell,¡± said Susan without enthusiasm. She floated over to the interdeck access hatch, the opening in the floor that led down to the lower deck, and pushed herself down it.


    ¡°I expect fruit juice will also be available, if that''s what you prefer,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°I suspect it¡¯s the spacewalk that''s the source of her unhappiness rather than the prospect of alcohol,¡± said Paul quietly to Eddie. ¡°The poor girl didn''t sign up for all this going outside. She was supposed to be a space scientist, not an astronaut. She''s a victim of her own qualifications.¡±


    ¡°Can you please leave the talking about me until I''m out of earshot?¡± came Susan''s voice, floating up through the interdeck access hatch.


    ¡°Since I''m coming out with you, that''s going to be rather difficult,¡± called back Paul.


    ¡°Is this going to be a problem?¡± asked Eddie nervously. ¡°Maybe we should have brought one of the Chinese after all.¡±


    ¡°They''re engineers, not scientists,¡± replied Paul. ¡°Basically construction workers. They wouldn¡¯t know where to begin working on a mass dampener. We don''t know for certain that it¡¯s the alien gizmo that failed. For all we know it might just be a blown fuse or a micrometeorite impact. We need someone who can diagnose and fix a piece of sophisticated electronic equipment, not a welder. We need Susan.¡±


    ¡°It''s great to feel wanted,¡± came Susan''s voice again. ¡°You coming or what?¡±


    ¡°I thought you might want some privacy down there while you get undressed.¡±


    ¡°Right now, us seeing each other¡¯s naughty bits is about number nine thousand on my list of things I''m not happy about. At least we won''t need catheters for a spacewalk this short. Get down here and let''s just get this over with.¡±


    ¡°If you''re sure.¡± Paul gave Eddie a ¡®you can''t win¡¯ look and then followed Susan down through the hole in the deck.


    The course correction went without a hitch, and twenty minutes later the shuttle was parked alongside the third stage of the Long March rocket. Benny carefully manoeuvred the shuttle closer and closer until he was able to reach out with the robot arm and link the two craft together. ¡°We are docked,¡± he said over the intercom. ¡°You may proceed when ready.¡±


    ¡°Copy that,¡± said Paul''s voice from the cockpit speaker.


    Eddie had come forward to sit in the co-pilot''s chair and could see the Long March clearly through the upper window. From a distance, we must look like a glider attached to a windmill, he mused as the Long March''s four solar panel arms gleamed in the sun. Beyond, the moon''s churning, lightning riven atmosphere made a fearsome backdrop and Eddie tried not to think that they were planning to go down there, into that thunderous, hurricane force storm. Now that they were this close, the idea seemed more insane than ever!


    Susan came into view from behind and to the left, followed by Paul. Both had their wings fully deployed, making them look like herald angels come to announce the end of the world. Tiny jets of incandescent fire blossomed at the ends of the feathers as they turned and flew towards the Long March. Susan held a small box in her hand, Eddie saw. The box containing the American mass dampener. Their faces were invisible in the darkness inside their helmets, but Eddie knew that if he could see it, Susan''s face would have had an expression of grim determination to get the job done as fast as possible and return to the shuttle.


    Paul reached the Long March first and began unscrewing the bolts holding the outer casing in place. By the time Susan reached him he had the panel off and was peering inside. ¡°No obvious sign of damage,¡± said his voice from the cockpit speaker. ¡°I''m going to perform a diagnostic on the human elements of the device.¡±


    The Chinese had already performed a remote diagnostic, of course, but there was no harm in checking. Eddie imagined Paul¡¯s helmet translating the Chinese characters into English and displaying them on the inside of his visor. ¡°Diagnostic confirms no fault in the human elements,¡± he said. ¡°That only leaves the alien device.¡±


    He shifted position to give himself a better view inside. ¡°I can see it,¡± he said. ¡°It may be just my imagination but it looks darker than it did the first time I saw it. Wait a minute...¡± There was a pause as he told his helmet to find a photo he''d taken with the helmet camera and display it on the inside of his visor. ¡°Yes, It¡¯s definitely darker,¡± he said. ¡°That''s probably what a burned out mass dampener looks like. So hopefully all we¡¯ve got to do is replace it with Susan''s one.¡±


    He beckoned for her to come closer and moved aside to make room for her. Susan took his place in front of the opening in the side of the rocket and looked in. ¡°Should only take a few minutes,¡± she said. ¡°I''m unfastening the first of the power leads.¡± She reached down to the toolbox she was wearing on her belt and removed a small screwdriver. She reached carefully in with it, past cables and delicate components to where a screw was holding the power lead in place. The powered head turned to loosen the screw and then she used it to lever the thin cable out of its housing. ¡°One down,¡± she said. ¡°Now for number two.¡±


    It took about half an hour to unfasten all the cables and linkages holding the alien device in place, and then she reached in with a pair of pliers to remove it. As soon as it was clear of the rocket Paul took it from her and tucked it into a pocket of his spacesuit. Susan then reached down for the small box she''d brought from the shuttle. She entered a long number into the keypad on the front and the lid opened. Inside was the other alien mass dampener. It was visibly lighter in colour than the other one had been. It looked healthier, if such a word could be applied to an inanimate object. Susan looked at it for a moment, and then carefully picked it up with the pliers.


    Inside the shuttle, Eddie watched as Susan simply stared at the alien device. What¡¯s she waiting for? he wondered. Paul¡¯s body language also seemed to suggest puzzlement, but he made no move to intervene, simply waiting for whatever thoughts were passing through Susan¡¯s head to complete themselves. Maybe she''s contemplating the fact that alien hands once held that device, three hundred million years ago, Eddie thought. Or perhaps she''s trying to reconcile it with her religious belief that the universe is only a few thousand years old. Whatever she was thinking, Eddie found himself growing suddenly nervous. If she were to suddenly throw the alien device away, into space, what chance would they have to find it again? Then he wondered where that thought had come from. Surely she would never do such a thing. It would be purest madness!


    Whatever she''d been thinking, she evidently decided that she''d been thinking for long enough because, to Eddie''s relief, she reached out with the pliers to place the device inside the rocket. ¡°Placing the new device in its housing,¡± she said. ¡°There, it¡¯s in.¡± She withdrew the pliers and took hold of the screwdriver again. ¡°Reattaching the fastening strap.¡±


    It took longer to replace the wires and cables than it had to remove them and it was a full hour before the job was done. ¡°Would you like to check my work?¡± she asked, moving aside from the rocket.


    ¡°I''m sure that''s not necessary,¡± said Paul, but he moved in front of the opening in the side of the rocket and peered in. ¡°Looks good,¡± he said. ¡°Connections look good. Securing straps look good. Looks like a perfect job. Shall we close up?¡± He took hold of the section of outer casing and replaced it on the side of the rocket. Ten minutes later he''d replaced the screws and the Long March once again looked the same as when they''d arrived. ¡°Done,¡± he said with satisfaction. ¡°Let''s get back inside.¡±


    Eddie saw him pause before moving, though. Taking a moment to look around while he could. He wasn''t one of the astronauts trained for spacewalking, Eddie remembered, so this was only the second time he''d walked in space, separated from the hard vacuum only by a spacesuit. He''d worked in space many times, of course, but always with the ROMIS, the remote operated robot, while he remained safely inside. Eddie remembered his own brief spacewalk. His discovery that seeing space through a pothole or on a display screen just wasn¡¯t the same. The difference was that, out there, the immensity of space stretched out in all directions, most importantly below the astronaut. Although it was true that there was no up or down in space, Eddie had had the powerful sense that the direction under his feet was down, and there was nothing there. Nothing but empty space going down and down, forever.


    It had been a disconcerting sensation, but Paul looked as though he was feeling something different. He looked as though he was feeling a sense of exhilaration. Eddie remembered seeing an interview with an astronaut on television in which he''d described feeling as if he were being lifted up and up towards some glorious, transcendental fulfilment. Paul was feeling that same feeling now, Eddie was suddenly certain of it, and he found himself wondering whether he would get another chance to walk in space before they returned to Earth. He wanted a chance to feel that exhilaration for himself.


    The thought of Earth made him look to where his home planet was hanging in space, beyond the shuttle. So small! A ball in space! Fragile as a soap bubble and far more beautiful. There was a spark of light from it, probably caused by sunlight reflecting from one of the handful of satellites still in orbit around it. What a miraculous chance, he thought, that it should just happen to reflect the rays of the sun in exactly this direction, even if only momentarily...


    The flash came again, except that, now that he was getting a better look at it, it didn''t look like a reflection. It looked more as if someone was turning a light on and off. There was no perceptible increase and decrease in brightness the way there would be if the Sun¡¯s reflection was sliding across a rotating surface. Instead, it was Instantly at full brightness and then instantly off again, as if someone was flipping a switch.


    And there it was again, and again! A longer one this time, lasting nearly a full second where the previous ones had only lasted half as long. As he watched in bafflement the flashes kept coming, some long, some short, almost like Morse code...


    ¡°Er, guys?¡± he said. ¡°Anyone else seeing that?¡±


    ¡°Seeing what?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°Someone down on Earth¡¯s flashing a laser at us.¡±


    There was a pause as the others looked. ¡°Probably just someone flashing a good luck message at us,¡± said Benny. ¡°There''s plenty of people with lasers that powerful. Probably someone half drunk at a party trying to impress the other guests.¡±


    ¡°What are they saying?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°Do any of you know Morse code?¡±


    ¡°The computer does,¡± said Benny. ¡°Let''s see.¡± He searched the computer''s memory for a Morse code translation chart and put it up on one of the cockpit monitor screens. ¡°So. That''s an N. Three dashes, that¡¯s an O. Another N. R, A, D, I, O...¡±


    ¡°Turn on radio!¡± said Eddie. ¡°They¡¯re telling us to turn on the radio! Have you turned it off, then?¡±


    ¡°Didn''t seem much point keeping it turned on when we''re out of range,¡± said Benny. He touched the touch screen. ¡°Okay, it¡¯s turned on.¡±


    A voice immediately started to come from the speakers. A voice that Eddie recognised, to his surprise. ¡°...we used to scan the area has very low resolution, but you knew you were risking your lives when you went up there. All we can say for sure is that any changes to the terrain are too small for us to see at a hundred metre resolution. Please keep your radio turned on and we¡¯ll give you any further information as we get it. This message now repeats. This is Ben Wrexham from the Wetherby exotic materials research institute...¡±


    They listened to get the complete message. ¡°This is Ben Wrexham from the Wetherby exotic materials research institute. My voice is being sent to you by means of the Lovell telescope at Jodrell Bank, which we¡¯ve modified to transmit a signal powerful enough to reach you and at a frequency that you should be able to receive. We know you can''t respond, so just listen. You must abandon your plans to land in the Bay of Success. Moonquakes have broken up the lava plain and created large escarpments that will make landing impossible there. Instead, we have found an alternative landing site for you at zero point seven seven one degrees south, fifty seven point nine one degrees east. There are a number of small craters in that area where you can attach the cable. We can''t guarantee you a smooth landing, I''m afraid. The laser radar we used to scan the area has very low resolution, but you knew you were risking your lives when you went up there. All we can say for sure is that any changes to the terrain are too small for us to see at a hundred metre resolution. Please keep your radio turned on and we¡¯ll give you any further information as we get it. This message now repeats. This is Ben Wrexham...¡±


    Benny called up a map of the moon and put it on one of the cockpit monitors. ¡°In the Mare Fecunditatis,¡± he said. ¡°Near the Webb crater.¡±


    ¡°About two hundred kilometres from our original landing site,¡± said Eddie, his face turning pale. ¡°Our original landing site was as close as possible to the prograde point, where the winds are lightest. This new site, the winds are going to be quite strong. Nowhere near supersonic, like elsewhere on the moon, but still strong. We''ll be landing in a gale.¡±


    ¡°You getting all this, you guys?¡± asked Benny.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Susan''s voice from the cockpit speaker. ¡°I was just thinking that this mission was a bit boring. Thank God we¡¯ve got a bit of a challenge now.¡±


    ¡°You coming back inside now?¡± asked Benny, giving Eddie a worried look.¡±


    ¡°You want to test the mass dampener before we come back in?¡± said Paul. ¡°So we can take a look and maybe fix it while we''re still out here?¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Benny. ¡°Let''s see if these codes the Chinese gave us are any good.¡± He tapped on the touch screen. ¡°Lunar Rescue One is giving me a ready signal,¡± he said. ¡°You ready out there?¡±


    ¡°Do it,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°Roger. Activating mass dampener in three, two, one...¡±


    The moon''s atmosphere below them leapt upwards and Benny hurriedly shut it down again before the convulsing moon caused any more damage to their landing site. ¡°Confirmed,¡± he said. ¡°Lunar Rescue One is back in action.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± said Paul with satisfaction. ¡°Come on, Suse, let¡¯s get back inside.¡±

 Chapter Thirty Eight

    ¡°We''ve just had confirmation that the heroic crew of Lunar Rescue Two have successfully repaired Lunar Rescue One,¡± said the reporter excitedly. ¡°The mass dampener, donated by the United States government is, we believe, similar in design and capabilities to the one used by the Chinese. It seems that both countries have been following parallel research paths and may have been collaborating in the effort, which would explain why the American device was compatible with the Chinese apparatus.¡±


    ¡°What about Dad?¡± said Richard irritably. ¡°Never mind about the bloody mass dampener. How''s Dad?¡±


    ¡°If anything had gone wrong, they''d have told us,¡± said Margaret bitterly. ¡°It would be a good bit of drama, after all. They don''t want everything to go smoothly. That would be boring.¡±


    Len looked as though he was about to say something, but the reporter was still talking and the family fell silent to listen. The man himself had disappeared from the screen, to be replaced by a magnified image of the moon; fast moving clouds lit from below by titanic flashes of lightning like flashbulbs going off at the bottom of a muddy stream. The shuttle and the Long March, so close together that they seemed to be two parts of the same object, hung in front of it, floating serenely against the furious backdrop. The image was just detailed enough to show two tiny white blobs drifting slowly towards the shuttle.


    ¡°These images are being sent from the Nevada Lunar Observatory and show Astronauts Paul Lewis and Susan Kendall returning to the space shuttle Pluvier. They are unable to communicate with us and tell us what obstacles they faced and overcome, because the shuttle, which was adapted for the mission at extremely short notice, lacks the means to communicate over such a great distance, but the whole world saw the disturbance of the moon''s atmosphere that told us that their test firing of the mass dampener was successful. Astronaut Eddie Nash must now convert their much smaller and less powerful mass dampener into a mass amplifier in preparation for the most dangerous part of the mission, the descent to the surface of the moon. You can see, behind the shuttle, just what kind of environment they will be descending into. This must surely be the most desperate, most dangerous mission in human history, and we can only pray that these brave men survive the terrors of the moon''s turbulent atmosphere...¡±


    ¡°Turn it off!¡± cried Margaret in distress.


    Richard reached over and pressed the power button. Silence fell in their small, prefabricated apartment, broken only by the sound of a small aircraft taxiing along the runway just outside.


    ¡°Paul''s risking his life, and it¡¯s just entertainment to them!¡± Margatret added.


    ¡°What chance has he got, really?¡± asked Hazel, looking just as scared as her mother. ¡°They say the winds on the moon are faster than the speed of sound.¡±


    ¡°Not where they''re going to land,¡± said Richard, trying to sound calm and confident. ¡°They''re going to land on the cold side, where the winds from the hot side are all coming together and slowing down. It''ll just be a stiff breeze where they are.¡±


    ¡°Is that actually true or are you just saying that to make me feel better?¡±


    ¡°Both. Is it working?¡±


    ¡°No! Those reporters kept asking how we were coping with dad being in so much danger.¡±


    ¡°They just want everything to be as sensational as possible,¡± said Richard. He''d almost punched the man in the face when he¡¯d asked the question. He''d spent the whole day trying to reassure his mother and his sister, and then a bunch of stupid reporters had turned up, hammering on the door, demanding to talk to the family so they could quiz them about the ¡®almost certainly suicidal'' mission Paul was about to attempt. Richard had thrown them out and then stormed off to have harsh words with Group Captain Arndale about letting the reporters on the base in the first place. The Group Captain had apologised and assured them that there would be no repetition, which was something, but the damage had been done. Margaret and Helen were nervous wrecks and it was everything the others could do to stop them tearing their hair out.


    ¡°When are they going to attempt the landing?¡± asked Len.


    ¡°Soon,¡± said Richard. ¡°Within a couple of hours, probably. As soon as Golden Boy Eddie¡¯s finished with the mass amplifier, I expect. The sooner they start, the sooner they''ll be done and out of there.¡±


    ¡°I wish we could talk to him,¡± said Hazel. ¡°Once they go down into those clouds we won''t even be able to see them. If something happens to them, we''ll never know what happened. We''ll never know what his last thoughts were.¡±


    ¡°His last thoughts will be of us,¡± said Margaret confidently. ¡°Unless it¡¯s all over so quickly that he doesn¡¯t have time for any last thoughts at all.¡±


    ¡°Yes, there''s that,¡± said Cathy. ¡°If anything does happen to them, chances are it¡¯ll be instant. They won''t suffer.¡±


    ¡°How can they even land on the moon?¡± asked Len. ¡°I heard, a few years back, that flying a shuttle was like flying a brick, even in the conditions it was designed for. The shuttle''s designed to glide through Earth¡¯s atmosphere, through air of a certain density and under a certain gravity. The moon''s atmosphere¡¯s completely different. The experts must think it can do it, but I don''t see how.¡±


    ¡°Some expert on the telly earlier said that all the differences tend to cancel out,¡± said Richard. ¡°He said it flies just fine on a simulator.¡±


    ¡°But the pilot''s got no experience on the moon!¡±


    ¡°I would imagine that the autopilot will be doing all the flying,¡± said Richard. ¡°It has reflexes a thousand times faster than any human. It can adapt to any situation. If the human was flying, then I''d be worried.¡±


    ¡°But there''s still no runway!¡± said Hazel. ¡°They could hit a rock, go down into a ditch...¡±


    Len reached over and took her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. ¡°They probably will take damage landing,¡± he said, ¡°but they''ll be okay so long as it¡¯s not too great. They won''t be landing back on Earth in that shuttle, they''ll be using the Chinese shuttle for that, so it doesn''t matter what happens to the heat shield. The wings can rip right off. Once they''re on the ground they won''t need them any more...¡±


    ¡°Can we please talk about something else?¡± begged Margaret. ¡°I know what danger he''s going into. I just want to pretend he''ll be coming safely home and that, one day, this will be nothing but an awful memory.¡±


    ¡°He is going to be coming safely home.¡± insisted Richard. His phone started ringing. He took it from his pocket, looked at the screen and swiped it to reject the call. ¡°Unknown number,¡± he said. ¡°Another reporter wanting a quote about how we''re bearing up during these stressful times.¡±


    ¡°Vultures!¡± spat Hazel. ¡°Preying on other people''s misery!¡±


    ¡°They''re just going to keep on calling,¡± said Len. ¡°I''ve told my phone to automatically reject all unknown callers. You should do the same.¡± Richard nodded and opened his phone''s settings menu.


    ¡°If everything goes well,¡± said Margaret, ¡°What''s the earliest we''ll know?¡±


    ¡°We watch the moon''s atmosphere,¡± said Richard. ¡°If it starts pulsing, we¡¯ll know they''re pulling the moon.¡±


    ¡°But that won''t mean that... That everyone''s still alive,¡± said Hazel. ¡°Why did it have to be him? Why couldn''t he have stayed on the space station and let someone else go instead?¡±


    Len squeezed her hand tighter. Cathy came forward and quietly took Richard''s hand. ¡°All we can do is wait, and hope for the best,¡± said Richard. ¡°I believe he''ll be coming safely home. I don''t know how I know it, but I believe it¡¯s true.¡±


    Margaret knew that he was just saying that for her and Hazel''s benefit and that, inside, he was as scared as they were, but she was grateful to him for saying it nonetheless. And then, because they wanted to know as much as possible about what was happening to Paul, they turned on the tablet again and watched the news reports in an anxious, terrified silence.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°We may have a problem,¡± said James Buckley as the door closed behind him.


    The others, most of the senior researchers and half a dozen junior members and assistants, looked around as he drove his chair towards them. Most of the institute''s normal business, indeed almost all activity around the world, had stopped as everyone, from world leaders down to the homeless people in the refugee camps, gathered around anything that would display a television picture. The wall mounted television of Wetherby Institute''s common room was currently tuned to the BBC, where a reporter was still explaining the risks the astronauts would be facing as they prepared for their descent to what was left of the moon''s surface.


    ¡°Another one?¡± said Alice in disbelief, sitting up straight and brushing the hair out of her eyes. ¡°Because God knows this whole endeavour isn''t risky enough already.¡±


    ¡°I just said maybe,¡± said James, parking his chair between the sofa on which Stuart and Jessica were sitting, his arm around her shoulders, and the padded armchair on which Karen was sitting. She put down the tablet on which she''d been writing some notes to give him her full attention. James synced his tablet to the television so he could display the latest images of Mare Fecunditatis he''d just downloaded. ¡°See the bit where the red arrow¡¯s pointing?¡± he said.¡±


    ¡°What about it?¡± asked Frank, leaning forward to stare at it intently.


    ¡°There are no details there,¡± said Karen, frowning. ¡°Is that it? The land there is completely smooth.¡±


    James nodded. ¡°Just a sec, let me...¡± He tapped on his tablet and the screen split to show two images of the same area side by side. ¡°The image on the left shows the first radar map we got of the area. The one on the right just came in. As you can see...¡±


    Everyone nodded together, their brows creasing with concern. The area had always been almost completely smooth and level. That was why they''d chosen it as the place to land the shuttle, but there had nonetheless been the occasional small crater and escarpment left behind by some seismic event millions or billions of years in the past. They showed up clearly on the older image, but were absent across a wide swathe of the newer image. Ben felt his heart miss a beat with fear. ¡°Lava?¡± he said. ¡°Is that a flood of lava sweeping across the moon?¡±


    James nodded and displayed another image on his tablet, a magnified image of the moon taken in infra red. ¡°This is a heat image of the same area.¡±


    Most of the image was various shades of blue, signifying cold, but a finger of livid, angry red was pushing across the moon, reaching towards the spot where the astronauts were soon going to be landing their shuttle. ¡°It seems that almost the entire volume of the moon is now molten,¡± he said. ¡°What''s left of the solid crust is an island about two thousand kilometres across and probably no more than a few hundred kilometres thick.¡±


    ¡°And it''s denser than the molten rock below it,¡± said Karen, her face pale with fear. ¡°It''s starting to sink.¡±


    ¡°The infra red image shows heat spreading towards the prograde point from the west,¡± said James, his voice giving no hint of the turmoil of emotions he was feeling. ¡°And the eastern side is lifting. The solid remnant is tilting as it sinks. Lower regions will be flooded first. Valleys and depressions that reach the edge. Soon, only the eastern rim will be left above the sea of molten rock, and it will disappear as the entire landmass sinks with increasingly greater speed.¡±


    ¡°How long have they got?¡± asked Ben.


    ¡°We don''t know when the lava first began to spill inwards,¡± said James. ¡°We can monitor how fast it moves from now on, but it takes time to do a complete laser radar scan. Also, our knowledge of the viscosity of magma from the deep mantle is little more than guesswork.¡± He looked across at Samantha hopefully.


    ¡°It was,¡± she said, smiling as every eye turned towards her. ¡°It just happens to be the subject of a research project I''ve been working on, on and off, for the past couple of years. Quite a bit of luck, right? I was planning to publish in about six months, as soon as I''d checked the figures and run it past my collaborators. If you¡¯ll give me a moment to do a few calculations...¡± She picked up her new tablet and began tapping on the screen. ¡°Copernicus gave us good data on rock density and chemistry from all depths almost all the way down to the core itself, and for the past few hours I''ve been running some heat flow models to try to project what the moon will be doing next. The timescale seems to be a little off. It wasn''t predicting the last bit of crust to sink until around this time tomorrow, but if I adjust the timescale to bring the prediction into line with what¡¯s happening now...¡± She stared down at the screen. ¡°It gives them about twelve hours before the lava reaches the landing site.¡±


    ¡°Is that long enough?¡± asked Frank. ¡°It''s not just the time it¡¯ll take them to land, do the job and take off again. The cable has to be attached to solid ground long enough for them to tow the moon back into its correct orbit.¡±


    ¡°Once they begin pulling, they''ll lift the entire two thousand kilometres of rock back up again,¡± pointed out Stuart. ¡°They may even rip it entirely away from the rest of the moon.¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t matter,¡± said Jessica. ¡°During the intervals when the mass dampener¡¯s turned off, its mass will be enough to pull the rest of the moon towards it. A gravity tractor.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I''m just saying that it¡¯ll give them more time before the lava reaches the cable.¡±


    ¡°A pancake of rock two thousand klicks across is easily large enough for gravity to pull it into a spherical shape,¡± said Alice.


    ¡°Eventually, yes,¡± said Stuart, ¡°but it¡¯ll take way longer than the five minutes it¡¯ll take to fall back to the moon''s surface.¡±


    ¡°Five minutes is easily long enough for the pancake to start breaking apart,¡± his wife countered, ¡°and the impact with the magma ocean below will also break it up. Who knows how large a chunk of rock they''ll end up pulling.¡±


    ¡°It can be big enough to act as an effective gravity tractor even if it only ends up a couple of hundred kilometres across,¡± said Ben. ¡°We''ve had this discussion before. We agreed that it should work.¡±


    ¡°If we warn them of the approaching lava, they may hurry,¡± said Frank. ¡°Make mistakes.¡±


    ¡°Are you suggesting we shouldn''t warn them?¡± asked Alice, staring at him in disbelief.


    ¡°They need to know they''re facing a deadline of some sort,¡± said Karen, ¡°or they may take their time. Make sure they''re doing a good job and end up taking too long.¡±


    ¡°And if they know there''s a river of lava racing towards their landing site they may decide not to risk landing at all,¡± said Frank. ¡°They may scrub the mission.¡±


    ¡°As they''re perfectly entitled to!¡± said Alice, he eyes flashing with anger as she glared at him.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s try to keep cool heads,¡± said Ben, glancing from one to another of the team of scientists. ¡°Clearly we have to tell Eddie that they have a new deadline. They have to know the timescale they''re operating under. I¡¯ll tell Jodrell Bank, tell them to send a warning.¡± He stood and pulled his phone from his pocket, then walked to the other end of the room.


    ¡°They can take off again any time they want,¡± said Frank. ¡°Just turn on the mass dampener and they''re up. The atmosphere will carry them with it as it rushes upwards, into space. Even if they didn''t have warning, they''ll see the lava flowing towards them in plenty of time to be ready for it.¡±


    ¡°There may be people outside the shuttle, on the surface,¡± said Alice. ¡°They may not have time to return to the shuttle.¡±


    ¡°Which is why Ben''s sending them a warning right now. Besides, the most dangerous part of the mission is their descent and landing. That alone is crazy dangerous! If they''re willing to try that, I can''t imagine anything else putting them off.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think they''ll go through with it?¡± asked Alice. ¡°Try to fly through that, that...¡±


    ¡°They knew what they were up against when they volunteered to go,¡± pointed out Frank.


    ¡°Yes, but now they¡¯re just a couple of hundred kilometres above the cloud decks! I bet it''s feeling a lot more real now than it was when it was just images on a monitor screen. Their pilot may have his finger on the button, ready to fire the de-orbit burn, take another look out the cockpit window and say ¡®Fuck this, this is insane!'' If it was me up there, I''d probably just turn the shuttle right around and come on home!¡±


    ¡°They won''t do that,¡± said Stuart, but there was a tone of doubt in his voice. ¡°They know what¡¯s at stake.¡±


    ¡°They might do it, and if they did I wouldn''t blame them one bit! I only knew Eddie for a few days, but I liked him! If he came home instead of trying to land, I''d give him the biggest hug!¡±


    ¡°Let''s not talk about him as if he''s already dead,¡± said Karen. ¡°They say that, aerodynamically, the moon''s atmosphere is now almost the same as Earth¡¯s. If they can land on Earth, they can land on the moon.¡±


    ¡°A wheels-up belly flop across ground strewn with boulders. It''ll only take one tiny rupture of a fuel tank or a feed line.¡±


    ¡°The heat shield will take most of the damage. It''s tough, designed to take punishment.¡±


    ¡°The Columbia was destroyed because its heat shield was hit by a piece of foam!¡± said Alice, glaring at the other woman. ¡°A piece of fucking foam!¡±


    ¡°They don''t use RCC any more, precisely because it¡¯s so brittle. They use BKL now. It¡¯s much stronger.¡±


    ¡°But still designed to protect against heat, not mechanical damage.¡±


    ¡°The fuel tanks are in the cargo bay and the engines are in the SMS pods, all high up on the shuttle, away from the ground. They''re pretty much all they need to get home, so long as the basic airframe remains intact. It doesn''t matter if everything else¡¯s trashed.¡±


    ¡°And what about the crew cabin? What about the crew themselves?¡±


    ¡°Ladies, please!¡± said Ben, returning and tucking his phone back into his pocket. ¡°I''ve told Geoff to send them a warning. It''s down to them now. They know what they''re up against. Whether they proceed or whether they return, it¡¯s their decision and we should support them whatever they decide to do.¡±


    Alice and Karen glared at each other a moment longer, but then Alice nodded reluctantly and dropped her eyes. Karen reached over to touch her hand. Alice''s hand jerked back at the unexpected contact, but then she glanced across at the other woman and took her fingers in a firm grasp. Then they all looked back at the television where the reporter was still talking about the weather on the moon as if he was reading the football results.

 Chapter Thirty Nine

    ¡°Ten minutes until we''re at the de-orbit point,¡± said Benny. ¡°Are we good to go or do we want to take another orbit first?¡±


    The voice from Jodrell Bank was still coming from the cockpit speakers. It was giving a different message now, messages of good luck and well wishing from various people including their families, Eddie''s new friends at Wetherby, the three astronauts left behind on the space station and the Jodrell Bank staff themselves. Benny had left it on, in case any new messages came in, but had turned it down low so that they could barely hear it. Consequently, the voices were almost drowned out by the noise of the air recycling fans.


    ¡°The sooner we get this done, the sooner we''ll be back on Earth,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Relaxing on a beach on a small island in the south pacific with a pina colada in one hand and the other stroking the hair of a scantily clad dusky maiden.¡±


    ¡°And a heavily armed security man standing behind you, ready to shoot you in the head if he thinks you''re about to reveal the secrets of the mass dampener to terrorists,¡± said Paul, who had taken Eddie¡¯s earlier comments to heart. Eddie nodded soberly.


    ¡°If we''re doing it, let¡¯s just do it,¡± said Susan. ¡°Waiting to die is a lot worse than dying.¡±


    ¡°And on that cheerful note, our heroes sprang into action,¡± said Eddie, but he immediately regretted his flippant tone when he saw Susan looking hurriedly away, not quite fast enough to prevent him from seeing the look of fear on her face. Fear just barely held in check. A terror of what lay ahead and the knowledge of just how slim their chances really were. Eddie reached over to lay a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked out of his reach without looking around at him.


    ¡°It''s going to be okay,¡± he said. ¡°We''re going to survive this. We''re going to make it back home and we''ll be heroes.¡±


    The tone of his voice made Paul and Benny look back at them. ¡®Everything okay back there?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Susan, forcing a smile. ¡°If the rest of you have decided to go through with this, then let¡¯s do it.¡±


    ¡°If we''ve decided?¡± asked Benny. ¡°Are you suggesting we maybe shouldn''t? That, after coming all this way, we should just turn around and go home without completing the mission?¡±


    ¡°Give her a break, Benny,¡± said Eddie, a little too sharply. ¡°She''s just scared, which just means that she¡¯s a lot smarter than the rest of us. There is a very real chance that we''re not going to survive this. We need to face up to that fact before we go any further, before we decide whether we want to proceed.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying you want to turn back as well?¡±


    ¡°Nobody wants to turn back,¡± said Eddie. ¡°I''m just saying that we should go in with our eyes open, fully aware of exactly what we''re going into.¡± Susan turned her head to look sharply at him, then looked away again as if he''d uttered a profanity.


    ¡°What about you, Susan?¡± asked Benny. ¡°Are you good to go on?¡±


    ¡°Just out of curiosity,¡± she replied, ¡°What would you do if I said no?¡±


    ¡°If you said no?¡± asked Benny, sounding genuinely confused.


    ¡°If I said I wanted to go back, what would you do?¡±


    ¡°We''re all in this one little ship together,¡± said the Swede. ¡°We can''t split up. You can''t go back alone while the rest of us go on without you.¡±


    ¡°So what would you do?¡± insisted Susan.


    ¡°We''d all go back, of course,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Right, Benny?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± said the Swede, sounding doubtful. ¡°But you don''t want to go back, do you Susan? You''re good to go on. Right?¡±


    ¡°Of course she is,¡± said Paul. ¡°She knows how many people are depending on us. The whole world''s watching us. They''re preparing parades and speeches, medals, picking out high schools to be named after us. Imagine if we went back and said we decided not to do it after all because we were too scared.¡±


    ¡°There''s no shame in turning back if the danger¡¯s just too great,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°You just said you wanted to go ahead!¡± said Paul.


    ¡°Yes, and I still do, but we might not all feel the same way.¡±


    ¡°Because I''m a weak and feeble woman?¡± said Susan, glaring at him.


    ¡°Hey, I''m the one sticking up for you!¡±


    ¡°If you''re brave and manly enough to want to go ahead, then so am I.¡±


    ¡°If you''re sure,¡± said Eddie hesitantly.


    ¡°Yes, I''m sure!¡±


    ¡°Shush!¡± hissed Benny. ¡°They''re saying something.¡±


    He was turning up the volume of the cockpit speakers and they all leaned forward to listen. ¡°...taken by the PLA telescope at the Atacama radio observatory complex and infra red images of the moon taken by the Vista 2 telescope show that there is a river of molten rock flowing towards your intended landing site. We estimate that you have approximately twelve hours in which to complete your mission before it arrives. I''m told that should still be plenty of time, but be on the lookout just in case the moon still has surprises for you. Good luck and Godspeed. Message repeats. Attention, crew of Lunar Rescue Two. This is Geoff Holland at Jodrell Bank. Laser radar images of the moon taken by the PLA telescope at the Atacama radio observatory complex...¡±


    ¡°Oh great!¡± said Paul. ¡°That''s just what we need!¡±


    ¡°Twelve hours!¡¯ said Eddie. ¡°Can we do it in that time?¡±


    ¡°If no unexpected problems crop up,¡± said Benny, ¡°but I would have preferred a little more breathing space, just in case. In fact, I''d be amazed if everything went without a hitch! Also, I was hoping we could have a nap on the ground after landing, so we could get to work with clear heads. We''re probably not going to have time for that now.¡±


    ¡°So we''re going ahead?¡± asked Paul, looking around at the others. ¡°No last minute doubts? No changes of heart?¡±


    ¡°We''re coming up on the de-orbit point just about now,¡± said Benny, ¡°So we need to either decide now or wait for the next orbit so we can think about it a bit more.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t wait,¡± said Paul, though. ¡°Not if we''ve only got twelve hours. We have do decide now. So are we going or not?¡±


    ¡°We go,¡± said Benny. ¡°Right?¡±


    Eddie looked across at Susan. ¡°You sure you''re okay to go?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± she snapped back angrily. ¡°Let''s just go and get it over with!¡±


    Eddie nodded. ¡°Let''s go, then,¡± he said. ¡°Go!¡±


    Benny touched the control screen to fire the engines and they were gently pressed back in their seats. Eddie reached down to the mass dampener, then remembered that it was now a mass amplifier and settled back in his seat sheepishly. Without the assistance of the device, the acceleration he was feeling was noticeably less than it had been before, but the numbers said that it would still be perfectly adequate to drop them down until they were skirting the outer fringes of the atmosphere. After that, air friction would complete the job of slowing them down until they were able to glide and land.


    ¡°We still have around ten minutes in which to change our minds,¡± said Benny. ¡°We won''t be committed until we start to feel the atmosphere. If necessary we can cut the engines, turn around and climb back up to orbit. Of course, if we do that, we won''t have enough fuel left for a second attempt. If we abort the descent, we abort the mission completely.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°We''re not going to abort,¡± said Paul confidently. He had evidently decided that he''d consulted with the others enough. ¡°We''re going down.¡±


    Eddie looked out through the small porthole beside him and saw the wildly rushing cloudscape below them gradually growing. He felt a pressure on his hand and looked around to see that Susan had reached over and was gripping it tightly. She had closed her eyes and her breathing was coming shallow and fast. Her face was white. Eddie squeezed her hand and felt her squeezing back, as tightly as though she were going into labour.


    God, she''s terrified! he thought in shock. It had been obvious that she was scared, but he hadn¡¯t realised just how great her fear was, great enough that it must have taken an almost superhuman effort to hide it. He began to feel a new apprehension growing within him. He was pretty sure that having a crew member terrified almost out of her wits was bad news for their chances of getting back alive. Too late now, though. There was no way they could go back to the space station to swap her for one of the Chinese astronauts. Besides, the Americans had been insistent that she come to the moon, to take charge of the alien mass dampener. They hadn¡¯t wanted it left in the hands of a foreigner, even though there was zero chance of anyone somehow smuggling it back to Earth. And now poor Susan was paying the price for their paranoia.


    A few minutes later the engines fell silent again. ¡°Trajectory looks good,¡± said Benny, looking at the altitude readout. ¡°Three hours until touchdown.¡± Nobody answered him.


    ¡°Whether this goes well or whether it goes badly,¡± said Eddie to Susan, ¡°Twelve hours from now it''ll all be over. We¡¯ll either be dead or on our way home.¡±


    She gave no sign of having heard, though, and so he simply ignored the pain in his hand as she squeezed it even tighter. He tried to settle down in his seat. After a while the shuttle began to shudder as it felt the outer fringes of the moon''s atmosphere.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°The shuttle has completed its de-orbit burn,¡± said the commentator¡¯s voice on the tablet.


    The screen that Margaret and the rest of her family was watching was completely filled with a telescope image of the shuttle. A tiny white triangle against the backdrop of the moon''s hurtling clouds, which now looked even more terrifying now that there was a familiar object to put them into perspective. It looked at though the slightest eddy from those supersonic gales would throw the shuttle to destruction and then scour the wreckage to oblivion with the vast load of sharp dust it was carrying.


    The shuttle, which was travelling backwards in order to point its engines in the right direction, then began to slowly turn, bringing its nose to point forward. ¡°Pilot Benny Svanberg is performing the yaw manoeuvre,¡± said the invisible commentator. No-one else in the studio was speaking, and neither was anyone in the tiny prefabricated house. All across the country, all across the world, the majority of the human race was glued to the nearest device capable of displaying a television picture. All but essential work had stopped as employees bowed to the inevitable and allowed their employees to return home to watch the coverage with their families.


    Crowds were gathered in the centres of every great city, staring up at the huge television screens that had been mounted on the tallest buildings. In many cities, the crowds were standing on sand and dried out scraps of seaweed, a reminder of why the shuttle was there and what would happen if they failed in their mission. In London, where it was late in the evening, the lights were on in buildings whose lower storeys had, very recently, been twenty metres underwater. It was a statement of optimism and defiance, but few people had any illusions about how well normal life would be able to continue if the floods returned.


    The shuttle had been shining brilliantly in the sunlight, but then it abruptly darkened as it crossed the terminator and passed into the moon''s shadow. It could still be seen, though, lit now by the reflected light of the Earth. The voice coming from the tablet commented on this in his hushed,  reverential voice. ¡°Very soon now, the shuttle will be lost from sight altogether as it rounds the curve of the moon and passes behind it. The next time we see it, it will have hopefully accomplished its mission and will be returning, triumphant, to Earth. The entire human race must now be holding its breath, willing them on, and those who still believe in God will be praying for them, begging for Him to lend His assistance. There''s certainly nothing that anyone else can do for them now. The brave crew of the shuttle Pluvier are on their own, with only their own courage and resourcefulness to rely on, and whether they succeed or fail their names will certainly be remembered for as long as human life continues. Eddie Nash, Susan Kendall, Benny Svanberg and Paul Lewis...¡±


    ¡°How come dad gets mentioned last?¡± said Richard angrily.


    ¡°For God¡¯s sake, Richie!¡± said Cathy. ¡°Don¡¯t start that again!¡±


    ¡°And golden boy Eddie gets mentioned first, of course...¡±


    Richard was deflecting, of course, Margaret knew. Trying to hide his fear by getting angry at something else. She reached out and took his hand. He instinctively snatched his hand back. It had been years since he''d held his mothers hand like that, but then he reached out again and took her hand in his. A moment later his wife took his other hand, Hazel took Margaret''s other hand and Len took hers until they were all linked together, all drawing strength from the people on either side of them.


    On the tablet, standing on the makeshift table in front of them, the shuttle was now pointing nose forwards, but it was also growing shorter as the moon''s surface curved away from the telescope in Australia that was taking the images. They were now seeing the shuttle''s back end, the large nozzles of the now useless main engines pointing back at them, flanked on either side by the hastily replumbed manoeuvring engines, the only functioning engines the spacecraft now had. The shuttle¡¯s underside them began to glow softly as it was heated by the friction of the outer fringes of the moon''s atmosphere.


    ¡°The shuttle still has to complete half an orbit before it arrives at its landing site,¡± said the commentator. ¡°Very soon now, though, we will lose sight of it as it passes beyond the curve of the moon''s surface. Even now we can see it becoming obscured by layers of high altitude haze. The brightness of the heat shield as it protects the shuttle from the heat of re-entry will allow us to see it for a little longer, but that will only extend its visibility for a few moments.¡±


    The shuttle was nothing but a tiny smudge of light now, gradually fading as it dropped behind the moon and more and more layers of dusty haze came between it and the anxious observers on Earth. ¡°He''s so far away,¡± murmured Margaret softly. She gently disengaged herself from her children and went to the window, to see the full moon rising in the clear, eastern sky, once again shrunk back to its normal size, for the time being at least. Once, there would have been patches of dark and light on it, highlands and seas, but now it was a uniform disk of dull grey. Just four weeks before, the moon had been quiet and still. A dead world on which millions of years would pass with nothing to mark their passage. Now, though, the cloud tops hid a world of unimaginable violence in which ferocious winds blew across an almost endless ocean of storm tossed lava and Paul was going down there, into that hell. It wasn''t fair! Why did he have to be the one?


    ¡°The shuttle has now disappeared from view,¡± said the commentator. ¡°The next time we see it, if it reappears...¡±


    ¡°When will we know?¡± asked Margaret, returning to the others. ¡°Whether he did it or not.¡±


    ¡°When they turn on the orbiting mass dampener again,¡± said Richard. ¡°The one aboard the Chinese rocket. When we see the moon''s atmosphere pulsing again, we¡¯ll know they''ve successfully attached the cable and have begun pulling the moon.¡±


    ¡°It''ll be a few hours,¡± added Len. ¡°If everything goes well, it might be as little as three or four hours. If they have problems it might be twice that. It won''t be more than twelve hours, though. That''s when the river of lava arrives at the landing site. If that¡¯s when they reappear, we¡¯ll know they''ve failed.¡±


    ¡°But they''ll still be heroes for trying,¡± said Hazel. ¡°When you think about it, what it is they''re actually trying to do, it would be a miracle if they succeeded, so failing would be no shame. They''re heroes just for trying.¡±


    Margaret nodded, but noted that no-one was giving voice to what they were all thinking, that the shuttle might not reappear at all. That Paul might die on the moon. It was even possible that he was dead already, that someone had miscalculated the shuttle''s ability to fly in the strange, alien atmosphere. Maybe the pilot, she couldn''t remember his name, had already failed to hold the craft steady and it had burned up like a meteorite, the brief glory of its final moments hidden from the people of Earth by the intervening bulk of the moon. She put the thought firmly out if her head. If he was dead, she''d know, she told herself. Paul was alive. She could feel it in her soul.


    ¡°So what do we do now?¡± asked Hazel. ¡°Do we just sit here and wait?¡±


    ¡°There''s nothing else we can do,¡± said Len. ¡°We could pray, perhaps, if we thought it would do any good. It would at least give us the illusion that we were doing something, which is the main purpose of prayer. It might make us feel better.¡± Nobody took him up on his suggestion, though. Little Timmy chose that moment to wake up and start crying. Cathy picked him up and began rocking him in her arms.


    ¡°The other three people in that shuttle probably have families,¡± said Hazel. ¡°They must be going through the same agonies we are.¡±


    ¡°Is it too late to talk to them?¡± asked Len. ¡°They might welcome hearing from people who are going through the same thing they are.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve probably got their phones set to reject calls from unknown numbers,¡± said Richard. ¡°Like we have. Because of the reporters.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they''ve been trying to contact us!¡± said Hazel in horror. ¡°Damn the reporters! Damn them!¡±


    ¡°We can try,¡± said Margaret, pulling her phone from her pocket. She tried Eddie Nash first, as he was British, like them. His family might even be fairly nearby, maybe even within easy travelling distance. The phone replied to her enquiry by telling her that the information she wanted was not in the public domain, though, and she had no more luck trying to contact Susan and Benny''s families.


    ¡°They must have put a block on people looking for them,¡± she said, disappointed. ¡°We should have thought of that.¡±


    ¡°Arndale might be able to help us,¡± said Len. ¡°He could send the request up the chain of command. Sooner or later it¡¯ll reach someone who can put us in touch with their families.¡±


    He took his own phone from his pocket and selected the number the Group Captain had given them in case they needed something. They were deflecting again, Margaret knew. Fixating on something else to stop themselves thinking about the danger Paul was going into, but she couldn''t bear the thought of just sitting there, doing nothing but stare at the tiny screen and listen to the commentator saying nothing of any note. And chances were that the families of the other three crew members, if they had families, felt the same way. Talking to each other would keep all of them sane while they waited for the hours to pass, each one an eternity, until they knew whether the people they loved were still alive.

 Chapter Forty

    The buffeting grew worse as the shuttle descended. To Eddie, it felt as though he was racing down a mountainslope in a trolley with square wheels. His teeth were shaken in their sockets, but he thought it possible that his back was getting a really good massage. ¡°Is this normal?¡± he asked. ¡°Is this what a re-entry normally feels like?¡± He looked out the porthole beside him, but all he could see was yellow fire.


    ¡°When we return to Earth, you''ll be able to make a comparison,¡± said Benny. ¡°And technically, this is a descent, not a re-entry, since this isn''t the world we came from.¡±


    ¡°I stand corrected,¡± Eddie replied. He could feel the vibrations warbling his voice. It seemed impossible that any man-made structure could survive this kind of punishment! He stared at the bulkhead beside him, half expecting to see cracks spreading through it. They were all wearing spacesuits, just in case there was a hull breach. Their helmets were sitting in their laps, there was enough gravity from their deceleration to hold them in place. If the shuttle sprang an air leak, they could put them on and screw them down in just a moment.


    ¡°Actually, the deceleration feels a little less than it should,¡± the Swede replied. ¡°That may mean that the atmosphere¡¯s less dense than we expected, which would mean that it''s not slowing us down as much as it should, although I prefer to believe that it''s because we currently have a supersonic tailwind.¡±


    ¡°What happens if the atmosphere doesn''t slow us enough?¡±


    ¡°Then we will hit the ground travelling at several thousand kilometres an hour and create a new crater that will last for maybe a day or two before what''s left of the moon''s solid crust sinks into the moon¡¯s deep interior.¡±


    Eddie nodded thoughtfully. ¡°So. A supersonic tailwind, eh? And that''s better?¡±


    ¡°Yes, because even though a tailwind means we are slowing less than we need, it will soon turn into a supersonic headwind that will slow us more than we need. The two will balance each other out and we will arrive at the surface with a low enough speed to make a safe landing.¡±


    ¡°Of course, between the tailwind and the headwind, we have to pass through the transition layer,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°What transition layer?¡± asked Eddie nervously.


    ¡°When you have two currents of air travelling in opposite directions, there will be a layer of turbulence between them,¡± said Benny. ¡°And when the two currents are both supersonic, the turbulence will be fierce. Thankfully, our own speed will still be great enough that we will pass through it very quickly, but it is still likely to be bumpy.¡±


    ¡°More bumpy than this?¡±


    ¡°Quite considerably more bumpy.¡±


    ¡°Bumpy enough to damage the shuttle?¡±


    ¡°Will you please shut up!¡± cried Susan desperately. ¡°I''m trying very hard not to think about what might be about to happen to us!¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± said Benny, ¡°but the transition layer is very close now. We might be entering it at any time. Please put your helmets on now. We can¡¯t have them hurling around the cabin like missiles.¡±


    They did so, lifting them over their heads and down so that their bases met the neck seals. They adjusted them until the screw threads matched and then secured them in place with a firm twist. Eddie saw the diagnostic display light up on the inside of his visor and saw a number of messages popping up to tell him that each of the spacesuit¡¯s systems was operating correctly. He heard the others breathing over the helmet¡¯s intercom connection. ¡°Helmet on and secure,¡± he said. The others repeated the words one by one.


    They were just in time. The shuttle gave a sudden, violent lurch that threw the shuttle''s nose down. Susan gave a shriek as their heads were thrown back hard against the padded headrests, and for a moment Eddie could see nothing but whiteness, as if someone were shining a cobalt lamp directly into his eyes. He was aware of the shuttle tumbling over and over and the contents of his stomach rose in his throat. He forced himself not to throw up with an effort. His arms were stretched out in front of him by the centrifugal forces of the shuttle¡¯s wild spinning. The windows flickered with brightness and darkness as they were alternately pointing downwards, feeling the full force of atmospheric friction, and then upwards again, shielded from the hellish blast of corrosive air passing them at about a mile a second. As Eddie''s eyes recovered from the shock, he contemplated the fact that there were no heat resistant tiles protecting the windows or the shuttle''s upper surface and wondered how long they could survive this wild tumbling.


    The autopilot, calculating and responding hundreds of times faster than any human, was already working to bring the shuttle back under control, though, and gradually the vessel responded, the tumbling slowing and then coming to a halt with the heat shield once again under them, taking the brunt of the atmosphere¡¯s fury. ¡°We are now through the transition layer,¡± said Benny, rather unnecessarily, Eddie thought.


    The flames visible through the porthole were starting to fade as the shuttle continued to slow. Eddie could feel that their deceleration was fiercer than it had been, no doubt because they were now in a headwind rather than a tailwind. ¡°Can you tell if we¡¯re slowing enough yet?¡± he asked.


    Benny was staring at the cockpit instruments. ¡°Wait a minute,¡± he said. ¡°The autopilot¡¯s working on it, doing the calculations. It doesn''t help that we have only a very approximate idea where we are.¡±


    ¡°You mean we¡¯re off course?¡±


    ¡°Eddie,¡± said Paul, ¡°no doubt the pilot would be able to do his job much more easily if he didn''t have to keep answering your questions.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sorry. I talk when I''m nervous. You''ve probably noticed.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother me,¡± said Benny. ¡°However, I''m afraid I have some bad news. As far as the autopilot is able to determine, we are going to fall short of our intended landing site by about thirty kilometres.¡±


    ¡°That''s bad,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°How certain are you of our position? What''s the margin for error?¡±


    ¡°I can''t be certain. The trouble with landing in a large, flat plain is that, at this altitude, there are no landmarks for the radar to get a fix on. We are relying on inertial guidance, and there is a possibility that they may have been thrown off by the turbulence we just passed through, causing them to give a false position. I am assuming that they are still giving us an accurate position.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. What else can you do? So, how do we reach the landing site?¡±


    ¡°We can extend our range by firing the engines for a few moments, just enough to gain a few hundred metres of altitude.¡±


    ¡°Do we have enough spare fuel for that?¡±


    ¡°I can''t say without knowing how much the mass dampener will reduce the mass of the moon. However, all the fuel in the world won''t help us if we land in the wrong place.¡±


    ¡°You''re the pilot,¡± said Paul. ¡°It has to be your decision.¡±


    Benny nodded. ¡°I will fire the engines,¡± he said. ¡°Please prepare yourselves.¡± He touched some controls on the touchscreen and a moment later they felt a gentle acceleration once again, pressing them back into their seats.


    The yellow fire had gone from the windows, Eddie saw, and he leaned over to look through his small porthole. It was completely black out there. Not only were they on the moon''s night side but they were also on the side facing away from the Earth, so that there was no reflected earthlight to see by. Even if there had been, it probably wouldn''t have been able to make it through the clouds that completely covered the sky. In the distance, though, he could see flashes of light on the horizon, as if a titanic battle were being fought. A lightning storm that silhouetted a jagged line of mountains. Eddie silently gave thanks that it was far away from them. He really wouldn¡¯t have wanted to have to fly through that...


    A much closer flash of lightning suddenly lit up the shuttle as if someone had set off an old style flashbulb right in the cabin with them. Susan shrieked again and Eddie found himself suddenly blinded, unable to see anything but a livid purple after image. His visor was supposed to darken, to protect his eyes from bright lights, but it hadn''t been able to react fast enough.


    A crash of thunder followed almost immediately, an explosion that deafened them and that they could feel pushing the shuttle sideways as if a giant had reached up a hand to swat them out of the sky. Alarms sounded and Benny reached out blindly to the mechanical controls beside him, actual switches and dials for use if the pilot should somehow lose the use of his eyes. The shuttle steadied itself and began flying straight and true once more.


    Eddie heard sniffing and sobbing beside him. He reached out blindly until he found Susan¡¯s arm then followed it down to find her gloved hand. She seized hold of his hand like a drowning woman clutching a thrown rope. She was trembling, he found. Completely terrified! ¡°It''s okay,¡± he said. ¡°Aircraft fly through lightning storms all the time. We''re going to be fine.¡± Now I''ve just got to make myself believe it, he thought.


    ¡°You okay, Suse?¡± asked Paul, and Eddie found himself wanting to slap him. Did she sound okay? ¡°We''re going to be fine,¡± Paul continued. ¡°Just a little storm. Something to tell the grandkids about, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said Susan, pulling her hand out of Eddie''s grasp. She removed her helmet so she could blow her nose. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Her voice was shaky, though, and as Eddie''s vision cleared he saw her wiping the tears from her cheeks.


    ¡°We have some Celexac in the medical cabinet...¡± began Benny.


    ¡°I don''t need Celexac!¡± said Susan angrily. ¡°I told you, I''ll be fine! I was just startled, that¡¯s all. I''m fine now.¡±


    There were more lightning flashes in the distance, though. None as close or as violent, but Susan gave a little twitch every time and then glared at Eddie as if daring him to comment. ¡°Better out your helmet back on,¡± he said. ¡°Just in case.¡± She nodded and gave her eyes one last wipe before doing so.


    The sound of the engines stopped. ¡°Engine cut off has occurred,¡± said Benny, blinking his eyes as if trying to force them to work again. He squinted at the control panel. ¡°If the inertial guidance system is to be believed, we are once again on course for the landing site.¡±


    ¡°How long until we get radar confirmation?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°Not long now. If there was a decent sized mountain range in the area we''d know already. How you doing, Susan?¡±


    ¡°Fine! Will people please stop asking me if I''m okay?¡± She was sounding stronger, Eddie was relieved to hear, and when he looked across at her she managed a weak smile at him. Eddie smiled back, and then looked back out through the porthole to try to show her he wasn''t concerned about her.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re through the worst,¡± said Benny. ¡°We''ve survived the worst part of the descent. The shuttle is handling well in this strange atmosphere, responding to flight controls just as normal. We are at an altitude of twenty thousand metres and are eighty five kilometres from the landing site.¡± He looked at another of the display screens. ¡°We are now low enough for the radar to confirm our location. We are exactly where we are supposed to be.¡±


    ¡°Good job, Benny,¡± said Paul. ¡°Well done.¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.     ¡°We''re not down yet,¡± said the Swede, though.


    He gave them a running commentary as they continued to descend. How high they were, how far they were from their landing site. Eddie found himself growing tense as the numbers got steadily smaller, imagining an uneven, boulder strewn surface getting steadily closer to the shuttle¡¯s fragile underside. Benny had given up any pretence of flying the shuttle by this stage. The autopilot was doing it all. When they were five hundred metres up the computer pulled the nose up to slow their descent. ¡°Brace positions, everyone!¡± said Benny. They all leaned forwards and Eddie and Susan pressed their helmeted heads against the backs of the seats in front of them. They all put their hands over their heads. ¡°Altitude is fifty metres, forty, thirty... Unable to accurately determine altitude. Any moment now guys...¡±


    Times passed, though, and nothing happened. Eddie resisted the urge to look up, the need to look around was almost irresistible. The impact, when it came, took him by surprise. He felt the individual bones of his spine crushed together as his seat slammed into him from below. His face hit the inside of his visor and he imagined he could feel his brain being thrown forward to hit the inside of his skull. Then he was weightless for a moment, to be followed by another impact, thankfully less this time. He felt himself being pulled forward against the seat belts. Hopefully that meant that the parachute had successfully deployed. He heard Susan making a kind of nnnggg sound, as if she was desperately trying to stop herself from shrieking again.


    The shuttle shuddered as it slid along the uneven ground, and then they were briefly weightless again as they leapt across a depression. When they hit the ground again, one wing hit an obstacle and the shuttle was spun around like a top, lifting up on one side until Eddie feared they were going to tip over. There was a thud as the underside of the shuttle hit the ground again and they continued to slide, the shuttle still bumping and jumping as it passed across the rock strewn surface. One wing lifted again, rose until Eddie felt himself hanging sideways towards Susan. It hung like that for what seemed like a timeless eternity, as if it had somehow, miraculously, become balanced there, and then it slowly began to fall. This time Eddie had time to tense himself up for the impact, but he still felt every bone in his body rattling as the shuttle hit the ground hard for the last time, and this time it lay still.


    Everyone was breathing hard, gasping with relief. Eddie''s ears were ringing, and he just sat there in silence as he waited to make sure that it was really over.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± asked Paul after a moment. ¡°Are we down?¡±


    ¡°We are down,¡± confirmed Benny. ¡°The turkey has landed. Is everyone okay?¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± replied Paul. ¡°How are you two back there?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, I think,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Me too,¡± added Susan.


    There was a pause as Benny checked the instrument panel. ¡°We still have full air pressure in the cabin,¡± he said, taking off his helmet. ¡°You can, oh God! Look at that!¡±


    He was staring at the main forward windows and Eddie gasped when he saw that one of them had a large starred crack in the upper corner, with one crack running all the way to the opposite corner. Benny took off his glove and reached up to touch it with his bare fingertips. ¡°Feels smooth,¡± he said. ¡°I think it¡¯s only the outer layers that are broken. Everyone keep your helmets close by, just in case.¡±


    ¡°Something hit us,¡± said Paul, also reaching out to touch it. ¡°A rock thrown up as we were skidding across the ground, must have been. Shit, this glass is supposed to be the toughest there is. It''s supposed to be actually bulletproof!¡±


    ¡°We were coming in pretty fast,¡± said Benny, putting his glove back on. ¡°I wonder what other damage we¡¯ve suffered.¡± He pulled up a diagnostic screen on one of the monitor displays. ¡°Red lights all over the board,¡± he said. ¡°According to this, poor old Pluvier is a write off. Can''t be salvaged. We¡¯ve got stress violations all across the main chassis. The shuttle¡¯s frame, what gives it most of its structural strength, has buckled. Fuel reserves are holding steady, though. We don''t seem to have sprung a leak, but we won''t know what kind of state the engines are in until we do a visual inspection.¡±


    ¡°You mean when we try to turn them on,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°Right. I suggest we give everything a good looking over, right now. Sorry that we don''t have time for everyone to gather their wits back together, but the clock says we only have eight hours before that river of lava gets here. We''ve got to hustle.¡±


    Eddie had taken off his helmet and looked across to see that Susan was doing the same. She looked a little green around the gills but seemed to be holding up. ¡°Still alive?¡± he asked. She glanced across at him, and he saw that a lock of hair had escaped from under her skin tight hood. She tucked it back without comment and then began unbuckling her seatbelts. ¡°I''ll take that as a yes,¡± muttered Eddie to himself.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± asked Paul as he rose from his seat. He looked out the windows, but there was nothing but almost flat, level terrain as far as the eyes could see. Everything was gloomy and dark. The sun was low down on the horizon and very little of its light was able to penetrate the thick clouds that completely covered the sky. There was a stiff breeze that blew dust along the bare, rocky ground, and lightning flickered on the horizon ahead of them. The air was filled with the steady rumbling of thunder, as if a giant was dragging a large boulder across rough ground somewhere just out of sight.


    ¡°Package holidays to the moon are available from your local travel agent,¡± said Eddie in a cheerful voice.


    ¡°Unfortunately, this is a working holiday,¡± said Benny. ¡°Paul, now that we¡¯re on the ground, I assume you''ll want to assume command again.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Paul. ¡°I''m in command. Okay everybody, let''s get to work. Eddie, Susan, unload the tether and collect all the equipment we''ll need to use it. Benny, open the nose covers. If they won''t open, use the explosive bolts. Then check out the engines. I''m going outside to have a look around. Maybe check out the crater while I¡¯m out there. Which way is it, Benny?¡±


    ¡°Haven''t got a clue,¡± replied the Swede, ¡°but they said this area had small craters all over the place. There should, hopefully, be one not too far away.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Good job, by the way. That was one hell of a landing, Benny. Well done.¡±


    ¡°The computer did most of it. And besides, they say any landing you can walk away from is a good one.¡±


    ¡°In this case, any landing within cable reach of a suitable crater would have been a good one.¡± He climbed out of his seat, moving awkwardly in the low gravity. They¡¯d all become accustomed to moving around in free fall, but moving around in one sixth gravity brought a whole new set of problems. ¡°Helmets on, everyone,¡± he said. ¡°We may spring a leak at any moment.¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Paul floated down through the interdeck access hatch to the lower deck. All the equipment they''d packed had been securely strapped down, but a couple of items had managed to break free and caused mayhem. A pair of wings was a twisted ruin in the corner of the chamber, and at one point it had hit an equipment rack, smashing the door open and leaving power tools scattered all across the floor. There were dents and scrapes on every surface, including the airlock door. Paul gasped with apprehension when he saw it, and hopped over to it to make sure the mechanism still worked. If the airlock door was jammed they would have to find another way of getting out of the shuttle, probably by means of the cracked cockpit window.


    The inner airlock door opened, though, and he entered and closed it behind him. For a moment, he wondered what he would do if the outer door failed to open, perhaps because the outer skin of the shuttle had buckled, and the inner door failed to open again. Perhaps the wings had damaged the mechanism after all, and it had been a sheer fluke that it had opened the first time. Did the others have the equipment they''d need to force the inner door open and free him from his prison? The outer door opened, though, and he was pushed back by a fierce gust of wind that blew in through the opening.


    Ordinarily, when the shuttle was on the ground after landing, a stair truck would drive up to allow the crew to disembark. If a stair truck was, for some reason, unavailable, there was a ladder that could deploy to allow the astronauts to climb down. They''d landed with the landing gear raised, though, and the shuttle was sitting flat on its belly. There was no room for the ladder to deploy. There was, therefore, a three metre drop from the airlock down to the lunar surface. Paul stared down, wondering how he was going to make the climb, but then he cursed himself for a fool and jumped. He floated down slowly in the low gravity and allowed his knees to bend when he landed to absorb the energy of the impact. ¡°Another small step for man,¡± he muttered to himself.


    ¡°What was that?¡± asked Benny in his helmet speaker.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± He looked back up at the airlock. The two halves of the nose had opened, he saw, although the extra armour they''d added had clearly suffered several impacts. It had done its job though, and the outer door of the airlock gleaned pristinely as if it had only just come from the factory. He would probably be able to simply jump up to it, he thought. It might take a few attempts before he managed to grab hold of something and pull himself in, but it shouldn''t be a problem.


    ¡°Benny, when you get a moment, can you rig up some kind of small ladder, about three metres long? Or just something we can step up onto, one or two metres high?¡±


    ¡°I''ll get on it as soon as I''m done.¡±


    Paul nodded inside his helmet, a habit of a lifetime too strong to ignore. Then he took a few steps away from the shuttle to give it a looking over. One thing caught his attention immediately. There was massive damage to the left wing. The forward edge was smashed inwards and the skin had been ripped all the way to the tip revealing the crumpled remains of the weight bearing superstructure. What was left was a mess of sharp, twisted metal that would rip through a spacesuit as if it were made of tissue paper.


    ¡°Everyone, keep away from the left wing,¡± he said. ¡°You''ll see why when you get out here.¡±


    He circled the shuttle, looking it over from every direction. The underside of the cabin area was dented and scraped, but the attitude control nozzles seemed okay. The other wing also had damage, he saw, although nothing as bad as the left wing had suffered. The worst thing, though, was that the main body of the shuttle was visibly bent, giving it an almost banana shape so that the otherwise immaculate tailplane assembly was angled slightly upwards.


    ¡°Shit!¡± he muttered. ¡°The fuel lines! Benny, are we still showing no fuel leaks?¡±


    There was a pause before the Swede answered. ¡°Fuel reserves are steady,¡± he said. ¡°Of course, there could be any number of leaks on the other side of the shut off valves.¡±


    Paul relaxed. The shut off valves were high up in the manoeuvring pods themselves, and they looked undamaged. Even so, though... ¡°We need to be sure. If we¡¯ve got a broken pipe, we need to know while we¡¯ve still got eight hours to fix it. The attitude control jets too.¡±


    ¡°You would need someone, yourself or Susan, to remove the engine''s outer casing and look for any leaks when I open the valves. That would take time, though. Several hours.¡±


    ¡°Is there a faster way?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, sort of, if you want to risk it, I can just turn on the engines for a couple of seconds at ten percent power and measure the thrust they produce. That''ll tell us whether the fuel is going where it¡¯s supposed to or leaking out somewhere else. The danger is that if there is a leak, it could cause a rather large explosion. It could blow the entire back half of the shuttle off.¡±


    ¡°Time is the one commodity we can''t afford to waste. When I give the order, do it. Fire the engines for two seconds. Did you get that, Susan? Eddie?¡±


    ¡°We got it,¡± said Eddie. ¡°We''re bracing ourselves. Okay, we''re ready.¡±


    ¡°Benny,¡± said Paul, ¡°fire when ready.¡± He backed away from the shuttle to give himself the best view of the OMS pods; the secondary engines mounted just beside and under the rudder.


    ¡°Okay. Programming the system. The system shows no, significant, faults. Okay, ready to fire. Firing in three, two one...¡±


    Small jets of blue flame shot from the secondary rocket nozzles. Paul half expected the shuttle to be shifted forward, but the friction with the ground was far too strong. The shuttle didn''t move an inch. The jets of exhaust shone straight and steady for two seconds, then shut off again. ¡°Engine shutdown successful,¡± said Benny. ¡°Thrust point three two kilonewtons. The engines appear to be operating correctly.¡±


    Paul let out a great sigh of relief. They might actually do this! ¡°Okay, Benny,¡± he said. ¡°Get out here and help me check out the shuttle.¡±


    ¡°Copy that.¡±


    Paul moved on to the rear of the shuttle, where he saw the trail they''d left in the lunar surface behind them. Pieces of broken ceramic tiles were scattered in their wake, along with pieces of twisted metal from the shuttle''s hull beneath, some terrifyingly large. Paul tried to remember what was beneath the shuttle¡¯s cargo bay, on the other side of the lower hull. Electrical control cables. Hydraulic lines. It must all be pretty much intact at the moment or it would show up on Benny''s diagnostic panel, but for all they knew there might be something vital pressed right up against a rock now, ready to be torn loose when they turned the moon''s gravity off and the upward rushing air carried them back up. How much control would they have over the shuttle when they were back in space?


    He completed his circle of the shuttle to see Benny jumping down from the airlock. ¡°I think we voided the warranty,¡± he said, going over to join him.


    ¡°A pity,¡± replied the Swede. ¡°Two more payments and it would have been mine. Still, I think she''s got one more flight left in her.¡± Paul saw him stiffening with shock when he saw the ruined left wing. ¡°Kara Gud!¡±


    ¡°Let''s go find a crater,¡± said Paul. He looked around. ¡°Does that look like a crater over there? That shallow depression?¡±


    ¡°Let''s go see.¡±


    The two men began moving away from the shuttle in slow, careful hops while the wind tugged at them, constantly trying to blow them to the east. A flurry of dust momentarily obscured their vision and when it cleared Paul looked back at the shuttle, assuring himself that it was still within sight. We should have tethered ourselves to it, he told himself. We still could. We could go back, find the nylon tethers... Then he remembered the river of lava flowing towards them, though, and he felt a renewed sense of urgency. No time to waste, he thought. We go on.


    He was expecting the crater to have a raised rim, but it was just a depression in the ground about a hundred metres across with a slope so gentle that they could easily hop down it. The bottom was covered with boulders and a layer of dust.


    ¡°This is supposed to be bare bedrock,¡± he said, staring down at it. ¡°It''s why we chose this place.¡±


    ¡°It probably was, before Lunar Rescue One,¡± replied Benny. ¡°Every time they turned it on, everything loose was carried up into the sky by the expanding atmosphere, to land again when they turned it off. The entire surface of the moon, what''s left of it, has been thoroughly redistributed. Boulders and dust landing hundreds of kilometres from where it was before. We should have anticipated this.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not too deep.¡±


    Paul reached down and picked up a boulder, throwing it away. Dust swirled around in the wind to fill the hole. He reached down with his hand, pushing it through the dust. ¡°I can feel the bottom,¡± he said. ¡°About fifteen, twenty centimetres down.¡± He stood again. The dust immediately flowed in to fill the hole his hand had made. ¡°This complicates things,¡± he said. ¡°We need a clean, solid surface to glue the tether to.¡±


    ¡°We''ve got to get the dust out,¡± agreed Benny, ¡°and we¡¯ve got to prevent the wind from blowing any more in. How are we going to do that?¡±


    Paul had no answer, though, and could only stare around at the dust filled crater in agonized frustration.

 Chapter Forty One

    Unloading all the equipment in gravity, even low gravity, was, it turned out, a lot harder than loading it in freefall had been.


    The reel of SkyHook cable was large, bulky and cumbersome and it took both Eddie and Susan to wrestle it through the narrow airlock doors. Eddie went first, stepping backwards, his clumsy, gloved hands trying desperately to grip the smooth aluminium casing as it slipped a centimetre or two with every movement he made. He had to keep putting it down to get a new grip on it before it escaped from him. ¡°You okay back there?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Fine,¡± came Susan''s voice from his helmet speaker. She was having an easier time of it, going forward, while Eddie was uncomfortably aware that there was a three metre drop somewhere behind him. He had to keep testing that there was still a deck behind him before he put his weight on his backward searching foot. Also, there was a sill around the airlock door over which he might trip if he wasn¡¯t careful, and a fall of three metres onto hard, stony ground might do bad things to his spacesuit even in one sixth gravity. He couldn''t see behind him. He could turn his head but not the helmet of his spacesuit which was fixed facing forwards, so he had no choice but to retreat blindly, one timorous step at a time, while Susan pressed the reel forward, impatient to get the job over with.


    He moved his foot tentatively backwards, ready to take another step, and felt the sill against the back of his heel. ¡°Stop!¡± he said to Susan. ¡°We¡¯re there.¡± He moved to the side, so that he could let the reel go past him. From this position there were holes in the round casing he could get his fingers into, allowing him to hold it more easily, and he moved closer to the outer door to look down. Three metres straight down. How were they going to get it down there? If this had been a properly prepared expedition, planned for years beforehand, there would be a mechanism to lower it gently to the lunar surface. Some kind of winch perhaps. Here and now, though, they had nothing but what they''d brought with them and their own ingenuity.


    ¡°I''m going to jump down,¡± he said. ¡°Then I''ll stand at the bottom and take the weight of it as you push it out the door. Then I''ll lower it gently to the ground. Okay?¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± replied Susan. Eddie waited for her to say something else, but she didn''t. She''d been uncommunicative ever since landing, only speaking when necessary and then saying the very least she could. Eddie wondered whether she was in shock from the frights she¡¯d had during the descent. He''d tried talking to her about it, but she would only reply that she was fine and then refuse to be drawn any further. Her work was fine. She knew what to do to get the job done and did it without hesitation or complaint, but Eddie feared that, when she was safely back on Earth and the pressure was off, she was going to have some kind of major breakdown. He''d heard that soldiers, back in the old days when they''d still fought wars, had often performed flawlessly in combat, no matter what the danger or the stress, and it was when they got home that it all caught up with them. So long as they were still under stress they were able to hold it all in, but once the stress was gone they exploded, like those fish from the very bottom of the ocean that expanded and burst when removed from the pressure of the depths. He hoped that wasn¡¯t going to happen to Susan. She''d seemed nice back on the space station, in the short time he¡¯d known her there, and she was pretty too.


    He turned his mind back to the matter at hand and looked down at the drop beneath him. It looked a long way, but Paul and Benny had made it okay. He wondered how they were getting on at the crater. They''d switched to another channel so that their conversation wouldn''t distract Eddie and Susan, and vice versa, but as a consequence he was feeling uncomfortably cut off from them on this space ship (A real life, actual factual space ship!) that he had no idea how to operate.


    Oh well, thinking about it wouldn¡¯t get the job done. He went right up to the edge, therefore, tensed himself up and jumped. He fell much more slowly than he¡¯d expected, the low gravity took a lot of getting used to, and he landed easily with just one small stagger before he was able to steady himself. Then he turned and looked back up at the airlock door.


    Susan was standing in the opening, looking down at him. Eddie returned to his previous spot, directly below the door, and raised his arms. ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°Push it gently forward. I¡¯ll catch it.¡± She may have nodded, but if so he didn''t see it. The interior of her helmet was too dark for him to see her face. She moved back into the airlock, though, and a moment later the round reel began to roll forward.


    He heard her breathing harder over the intercom as she pushed it over the door sill, and Eddie moved directly below it. With his hands raised he could almost touch it. ¡°Almost there,¡± he said. ¡°Just a little further...¡±


    The reel began to drop. He caught it in his hands, but even in the low gravity it was too heavy and he couldn¡¯t hold it. It slipped out of his grasp and he dodged out of the way as it fell to the lunar surface. He tripped over a small rock and fell, but he twisted around as he fell so that he landed on his elbow instead of the life support machinery he was wearing on his back. He could only watch helplessly, therefore, as the rim of the reel landed on a boulder, which caused it to roll as it fell the rest of the way to the dusty surface. Its momentum then made it roll away across the surface of the moon like a runaway wheel from a car crash.


    ¡°Bugger!¡± he swore, trying to climb back to his feet. The spacesuits had been designed for floating around outside the space station, though, and the legs would hardly bend. He had to drag himself over to the shuttle and prop himself up against it. Susan jumped down beside him and helped him up with a hand to the elbow, and then he pushed himself away from the shuttle until he was once more upright on his feet. ¡°Don''t fall down,¡± he warned her. He couldn¡¯t see if she smiled or not.


    Once more on his feet, he looked around to see where the reel had ended up. It was grey, though, the same colour as the surrounding rocks and dust, and it was dark and gloomy. ¡°Where the hell is it?¡± he asked. ¡°Can you see it?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She was walking away from the shuttle in the direction the reel had gone. Eddie looked for tracks in the dust, but the stiff wind had blown them away almost immediately. He followed after Susan, scanning the ground with his eyes, looking for a smooth, round surface. ¡°This is ridiculous!¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°It couldn¡¯t have gone far, surely!¡±


    The ground shook and they both froze in place. An earthquake! thought Eddie. No, a moonquake. A reminder that the ground they were standing on was little more than a thin raft sitting on a completely molten sphere of magma and steadily sinking. Did the moonquake mean that it was beginning to break up? If so, they might have less time than they thought.


    The moonquake passed and Eddie resumed the search, but Susan continued to just stand there. Maybe she''s seen something, he thought, and he looked in the direction she seemed to be facing. There was nothing there he could see, though. He looked back at Susan to see that she was still standing motionless. Concerned, he went over to stand beside her. ¡°Susan?¡± he said. ¡°You okay?¡±


    There was no response, so he tried to see her face inside the helmet. It was too dark, though. He couldn¡¯t see a thing. It might have been an empty spacesuit that someone had left there as a joke. There was a light on his wrist, though. He turned it on and shone it in through her faceplate.


    Her eyes were wide with terror. A fear so great that it had completely paralysed her mind and shut her down into an almost catatonic state. ¡°Susan!¡± he said in sudden fear. ¡°It''s okay, it was just a little moonquake. It''s over now. Susan!¡± He grabbed her arm and gave her a shake, but it had no effect. ¡°Paul!¡±  he said, switching to the communal channel. ¡°Benny! Susan needs help!¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Paul, but at that moment there was a flash of blinding white as a bolt of lightning hit the ground somewhere nearby, accompanied by a clap of thunder like a bomb going off. It snapped Susan out of her paralysis and she shrieked, hunkering down and throwing her arms over her head. Another flash of lightning followed, and then another and another, each one accompanied by an explosion of sound that hit them with an almost physical force. Eddie expected to be hit, as the tallest thing in the immediate neighbourhood. He didn''t know that the material from which the spacesuits were made was almost perfectly insulating.


    ¡°We shouldn''t be here!¡± cried Susan. ¡°God doesn¡¯t want us here! He''s telling us he wants us gone!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just lightning,¡± said Eddie, as soothingly as he could. ¡°It''s over now.¡± He hoped it was true, and indeed no other lightning bolts followed, although they continued to flash on the distant horizon. ¡°It''s over now.¡±


    He tried to take her by the arm again but she pushed him angrily away. ¡°God is angry with us!¡± she cried. ¡°He has a plan and we¡¯re trying to thwart Him! We have to stop! We have to go back home, right now!¡± She turned and began loping back towards the shuttle.


    Eddie followed after her, still calling out her name, but she ignored him. Reaching the shuttle, she jumped and caught hold of the airlock door on the first attempt, pulling herself in. Eddie jumped after her, but he misjudged the distance and sailed too high, giving him a brief view of the cockpit through the cracked window before he fell again. He tried to grab hold of the door on the way down, but Susan had already closed it and was turning towards the inner door, ready to enter the cabin. Eddie fell all the way back down to the lunar surface.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.     ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± demanded Paul. ¡°Eddie? Susan?¡±


    ¡°The lightning freaked her out,¡± said Eddie as he climbed awkwardly back to his feet again. ¡°I think she just needs a little time to calm down.¡±


    Paul swore. ¡°She told me she was scared of lightning,¡± he said. ¡°We should never have brought her.¡±


    ¡°The Americans...¡±


    ¡°Bugger the Americans! What could they do? Come up and shoot us all? We should have brought Yu. This is my fault, I shouldn¡¯t have let her come.¡± Yu could never have helped to repair the Long March, though. She didn''t have the electrical skills. Only Susan could have done that. Without her, they''d never have gotten as far as they had, and Paul knew it. He swore again. ¡°We''re on our way,¡± he said.


    There were recessed handholds on the outside of the shuttle for astronauts to grab hold of during spacewalks and Eddie tried to grab hold of one as he jumped again. He succeeded and hung by one hand as he looked in through the small window. He saw Susan opening the inner door to enter the cabin. It closed automatically behind her. He pulled the latch to open the outer door again and manoeuvred himself around it to climb into the airlock. It wasn¡¯t easy. The door had been designed to be entered either in space, when an astronaut could simply float in, or on a runway on Earth when there would be a flight of steps leading up to it. Nobody had ever imagined a situation like this one. He held onto the top of the door and reached down to the sill at the bottom of the opening. The he let himself drop. He caught the sill on the way down and then pulled himself up and into the airlock.


    He saw Paul and Benny loping across the lunar landscape towards him, but he decided not to wait. He closed the outer door and began to cycle the airlock. ¡°Susan,¡± he said meanwhile. ¡°It''s okay, Susan. Just relax. Take your helmet off and... No! Don¡¯t take your helmet off!¡± He''d momentarily forgotten that the airlock had been designed to operate either with vacuum on the other side or breathable Earth air. It had never been designed to operate with poisonous air outside. It operated by simply allowing cabin air in until the pressure was the same on both sides of the door. Then, when the door was opened, the air on both sides was allowed to mingle. The result was that the cabin¡®s air had now been contaminated with moon air. It would almost certainly be fatal to breathe, and there was no way to clean it out. They were trapped in their spacesuits until they arrived back at the space station.


    He kept trying to speak to her in a calm, soothing voice. ¡°I''m coming, Susan. The others are coming as well. You¡¯ll be fine as soon as you''ve had a chance to calm down. We¡¯ll laugh about this one day.¡±


    ¡°I have to do it, Eddie.¡±


    ¡°Do what, Susan? What do you have to do?¡±


    ¡°We have to leave the moon in its new orbit. This is God¡¯s plan, you see? He has a plan for mankind and we can¡¯t interfere with it.¡±


    A cold chill ran down Eddie''s spine as an awful possibility came to him. ¡°What are you going to do, Susan? Don''t do anything rash. Don''t do anything you¡¯ll regret later.¡± He looked at the progress indicator showing how long it would still take for the pressure to equalise. How could it be taking this long? All it had to do was let air in. It should only take a few seconds. There were all kinds of safeguards built in, of course, to make sure the air wasn¡¯t going through both doors and out into space. The ingress of air was deliberately slow, to allow the crew to take corrective measures if there was a problem. There was probably a way to speed the process up, in the case of an emergency when it was necessary to get someone inside quickly. Paul and Benny probably both knew what it was. He should have waited for them. He reached for the intercom controls to switch to the common frequency so he could ask them, but Susan was speaking again and what she said froze him with horror.


    ¡°I have to destroy your mass amplifier,¡± she said. ¡°It''s the only way to...¡±


    ¡°No! Susan, no! Please, no!¡± He pulled at the door controls but it refused to open. He searched for the override controls. There was a control panel on the wall beside the door. Physical buttons you pushed with your fingers and which were labelled with enigmatic symbols and acronyms. He reached out to press them at random, hoping to find the override by chance, but he might only make things worse. ¡°Susan! We need the mass amplifier! We can''t get home without it! If you damage it we''ll be trapped here!¡± He tried to remember if he¡¯d locked the box the mass amplifier was in. He¡¯d had no reason to (so he¡¯d thought) here on the shuttle, with only trusted crewmembers with him. If he¡¯d locked it, it would have been just from force of habit. Even if he had, the casing wasn¡¯t that strong. It wouldn¡¯t take her long to break through, and if he hadn¡¯t then she had direct access to the delicate components, most of which were irreplaceable except back on Earth. He stared back at the progress indicator, which seemed to have hardly moved, and felt himself becoming panicky with desperation. He reached for the intercom controls again, but Susan was still using their private channel and he needed to talk to her, to make her see reason.


    ¡°Susan, it must have been God''s will that we found the alien spaceship, don¡¯t you see? Doesn''t that prove that He wants us to put the moon back into its old orbit?¡±


    ¡°He''s testing us,¡± Susan replied. ¡°He wants to see if we have enough faith to submit to His will. He gives us the means to disobey him to see if we will turn away from it. Don¡¯t you see? I knew all along that this mission was wrong. I was too weak, too scared to do anything to stop it. It took the lightning to wake me up. That was God shaking me back to my senses.¡± Another sound began to come over the intercom, the sound of a power drill biting into metal.


    Eddie was almost in tears with desperation, but finally the progress indicator reached one hundred percent and the inner door opened. Eddie launched himself through it but forgot the low gravity and landed flat on his face in the cabin. He picked himself up and forced himself to move more carefully towards the ladder up to the cockpit. He could hear the sound of blows coming from above, Susan hammering on the casing with something, and he launched himself up through the hole in the ceiling in a single leap.


    In the cockpit, he saw Susan holding a large power drill. The drill was sunk deep into the casing of the mass amplifier and she was turning it this way and that to allow the drill bit to cause damage inside. He saw two other holes in the casing where she¡¯d done it before. The device might already be irreparably destroyed! He forced himself to move steadily towards her, not wanting to lose control of himself in the low gravity, and he took hold of the arm holding the drill. ¡°Stop it, Susan! Please stop it!¡±


    ¡°You''re too late, Eddie. Your device is full of holes. God be praised!¡± She refused to let go of the drill, though, and kept her finger on the trigger. She tipped it from side to side as it whined angrily, determined to cause even more damage to the device''s delicate innards. Eddie took hold of the casing with one hand and the drill with the other and pulled it out, then pushed Susan away from the device. She stumbled backwards and landed awkwardly at the base of her seat.


    Eddie moved to place himself between her and the mass amplifier, but she was still holding the drill and was pointing it at him as if it were a gun. ¡°You cannot defy God''s Will!¡± she cried. ¡°He has made His will plain and I will carry it out!¡± Then, to Eddie''s astonishment and disbelief, she picked herself up and threw herself at him, the drill outstretched as if it were a knife.


    He grabbed her wrist as she came within reach, desperate to keep the whining drill bit away from his spacesuit. She twisted her hand, though, to bring the bit into contact with his sleeve. The outer layer of cloth was torn up and shredded into a tangle of woolly fibres. As he pushed her back, the overhead light shone in through her visor, illuminating her face, and he was shocked to see that it was twisted into a snarl of hatred. The surprise paralysed him for a moment, and she took the opportunity to push the drill towards him again. This time it sank deep into the fabric of his chest and, although it failed to reach his skin, it penetrated the water filled tubes of his cooling jumpsuit. A red warning light lit up on his visor display. Once again he grabbed her wrist and pushed her away from him, and then he pulled the drill from her grip with his other hand. She tried her best to keep hold of it, but was unable to keep a firm grip on it with her gloved hand. Eddie threw it across the room.


    ¡°Susan! Get a grip! Snap out of it! This isn''t you!¡± She struggled under him, though, trying to throw him off until Paul arrived and helped him to get her under control.


    ¡°What happened?¡± he demanded, but Eddie was too shocked and exhausted to answer and Susan, seeing that she wouldn''t be allowed to cause any more damage, relaxed and lapsed into silence, panting with the exertion as she lay on the cabin floor. Seeing that Paul had her in a firm grip, Eddie then let go of her and turned to look at the mass amplifier. He cringed with horror at the sight of the holes in its casing, each surrounded by curling slivers of metal. He turned the box to reach the lock, and saw to his surprise that it was unlocked. Susan could have opened it and destroyed its most important and delicate components with the drill, but she had been too far gone in her madness to notice. When Eddie opened the casing, he was relieved to see that all the damage was to cabling and a printed circuit board, things that should be easy to repair with the parts and equipment they had on board. He breathed a sigh of relief.


    ¡°Doesn''t look too bad,¡± he said therefore. ¡°I think I can fix this.¡±


    Susan reacted with fury, struggling under Paul again, but he was easily able to hold her down. ¡°Why did you do it?¡± he demanded, but Susan still didn''t reply.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t her fault,¡± said Eddie, not looking up from his examination of the mass amplifier. ¡°The lightning freaked her out...¡±


    ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± said Benny, his head appearing in the stairwell. ¡°Are you guys fighting?¡±


    ¡°Susan tried to destroy the mass amplifier,¡± said Paul. He was keeping a firm grip on Susan''s wrists, but she clearly knew that it was over and had stopped resisting.


    ¡°I may have failed,¡± she said, ¡°but God knows that I tried. I won''t have to face His wrath. That''ll be all on you.¡± There was a tone of doubt in her voice now, though, as if she were gradually coming to realise what she had done. Her body began shaking as if she were crying inside her spacesuit, although no sound came over the intercom.


    ¡°Can I let you go?¡± asked Paul. ¡°You won''t try anything, will you?¡±


    ¡°I won''t try anything,¡± replied Susan, a little sullenly, Eddie thought. Paul let go of her wrists and slowly climbed off her. She gathered herself up and sat with her back against the bulkhead.


    ¡°Damn,¡± said Benny, climbing fully into the cockpit. ¡°This is the last thing we need! Now we¡¯ll need someone to keep a constant watch over her. That means only two of us to do the work that needs doing, and we''ve only got a couple of hours to do it.¡±


    ¡°We could tie her to the seat,¡± suggested Eddie. ¡°We¡¯ve got plenty of zip ties.¡± He looked at Susan apologetically as he said this, but the darkness inside her helmet prevented him from seeing the expression on her face. At that moment, another warning light lit up on his visor display, telling him that the fluid level of his cooling system was getting low. He put the thought out of his head for the moment. The suit would be easy to patch and they had plenty of spare fluid. What was more worrying was the smell of stale eggs that was beginning to fill his spacesuit. It means that moon air was leaking into his spacesuit through the hole Susan had made. His visor display told him that he was still breathing plenty of oxygen, but there might be toxic gases getting in. He left the mass amplifier, therefore, and went looking for a patch to put on his sleeve.

 Chapter Forty Two

    ¡°So, you saw the way it went,¡± said Benny. ¡°So where is it?¡±


    Eddie stared out across the desolate lunar landscape, hoping he might catch a glimpse of the reel of tether material. ¡°Well, it rolled that way,¡± he said, pointing, ¡°but round, rolling things tend to curve as they roll. It could have gone either to the left or the right. Also, it¡¯s probably covered by a dune of moon dust by now. It may be completely hidden from sight.¡±


    ¡°Let''s hope not,¡± said the Swede. ¡°That would be a rather ignominious end to our mission. Let''s split up, then. You go left, I¡¯ll go right.¡±


    Eddie nodded, forgetting that the other man couldn''t see his face, and the two men walked slowly away from the shuttle, kicking every mound of dust they passed on the way.


    It took them nearly twenty minutes to find it. They went over the same ground time and again, staring at every boulder, looking into every depression, kicking every mound of dust until Eddie found himself close to despair. He was haunted by the fantasy that it might be irretrievably lost and that they might have to abandon the mission for such a stupid, mundane reason. Would everyone back on Earth be furious when they returned in defeat, or would they just laugh? A laughter that would follow them to the grave and that would be their legacy for centuries to come?


    Then, as he was going over a patch of land he could have sworn he¡¯d gone over at least twice before, the toe of his boot connected with something solid buried in the dust, and when he looked closer he saw that the swirling wind had excavated a deep depression in the dust on the downwind side, leaving a smooth curve of aluminium exposed to the gloomy lunar twilight. He reached down to grasp hold of it, lifted, and to his relief the reel rose into sight, dust swirling away in the brisk wind. ¡°Found it!¡± he cried.


    The ground shook again as Benny came loping over. Another moonquake. Not as bad as the first but still worrying. Eddie found himself wondering just how thick the slab of land they were standing on now was. A hundred kilometres? Less? And beneath it, magma. Way hotter than its melting point, spreading heat into the solid rock above and steadily melting it. Magma that was considerably less dense than the soIid rock above. The time it took for the magma below to move out of the way was the only thing preventing this last slab of solid ground from sinking faster than it was.


    Eddie forced his mind to stop thinking about it, otherwise he was likely to flip out as Susan had done. He wondered how she was doing, still tied to her seat. Did she regret what she''d done? Was she being consumed by shame and guilt? Or did she still want to sabotage the mission and was just waiting for the opportunity to break free so she could wreak havoc?


    ¡°Okay, me and Paul can handle this now,¡± said Benny. ¡°Go get him and go fix the mass amplifier.¡±


    ¡°If it can be fixed,¡± said Eddie, heading back to the shuttle. ¡°It''s the circuit board that worries me the most. I may have to steal some components from something else.¡±


    ¡°Do whatever you have to do,¡± said Paul. ¡°So long as we can still fly the ship.¡± He had appeared at the airlock door and he helped Eddie climb in as he jumped up. ¡°Don¡¯t untie her,¡± he warned. ¡°No matter how reasonable she seems.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± replied Eddie, going through into the cabin and then kicking himself up to the cockpit. Susan was still where they''d left her, he saw. Sitting in her seat, her arms by her sides, tied to the support struts by zip ties. A length of electrical cord was wrapped around her chest, holding her to the back of the seat. Her helmet faced forward. He couldn''t see If she was looking at him or what the expression on her face was.


    ¡°Hey, Susan,¡± he said. ¡°How you doing?¡±


    ¡°About as well as could be expected,¡± she replied flatly. ¡°My scalp itches, and I won¡¯t be able to scratch it for over two days.¡±


    ¡°You think you got it bad,¡± Eddie replied. ¡°I¡¯ve got cooling fluid sloshing around my feet. I''m going to have trenchfoot by the time we get home.¡±


    ¡°Count yourself lucky,¡± she said. ¡°They experimented a few years back with putting APA in the water, to make it less viscous, so the pump could be smaller and use less power. They abandoned the idea when they found it gave you cancer. You''ve got nothing but nice clean water sloshing around your tootsies.¡±


    ¡°I hear a drill through the heart can be quite bad for you as well.¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry about that.¡±


    Eddie opened the casing of the mass amplifier and peered in, frowning at the damage. ¡°Did you know what you were doing when you did this? Were you just out of your mind?¡±


    ¡°Would it make you feel better if I said I was?¡±


    ¡°I just want to know if you''d still try to kill me if you could.¡±


    ¡°If it would stop the mission, yes.¡±


    ¡°Even though millions would die down on Earth?¡±


    ¡°This isn''t our real life, Eddie. This is just a test, to see who''s worthy to join God in Heaven. That''s where our real life is. Nobody really dies, don¡¯t you see? Killing someone isn''t really such a terrible crime, because you''re not ending that person. You''re just sending them on somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Some people, you might be sending them on to Hell.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what they deserve.¡±


    ¡°Do you think that¡¯s what I deserve? Do you think I deserve to be tortured for all eternity?¡±


    ¡°That''s for God to decide. You know your own heart better than I do.¡±


    She''s mad, Eddie decided, a shiver of fear running down his spine. And what was really scary was that there were millions more like her down on Earth, even now, in the middle of the twenty first century. People who, on the outside seemed like perfectly normal, sensible people but who genuinely believed that some of the people around them deserved to be tortured forever. You could argue forever that the early Christians had had no concept of Hell, that the fire and brimstone and devils with pitchforks was an idea that had only arisen in recent centuries, but a great many modern Christians believed it anyway. Believed that there were good people around them who would not only suffer in Hell forever, but who actually deserved it, for the ¡®crime¡¯ of believing something different. Eddie glanced over Susan again, and gave silent thanks that she was safely tied to her chair.


    He tried to put her out of his mind and began carefully detaching the damaged circuit board. The HEK17 chip was completely destroyed, he saw, but he was pretty certain there would be a compatible one in the secondary navigation system. They¡¯d have to do without a backup for their trip back home. Everything else that needed replacing was pretty standard and could be found in just about any piece of electrical equipment, including the drill that had caused the damage in the first place. He nodded to himself. He could do this, he thought. Give him a couple of hours and the mass amplifier would be as good as new.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Susan watched him from the privacy of her spacesuit helmet, knowing that her face was hidden from him by the darkness. It gave her a strange feeling of safety and security, as if she were hiding. She tested the zip ties holding her arms. With so many layers of material covering her body she could barely feel them, and she thought there might be a little give in them if she worked on them for a while. They were sunk into the folds of her spacesuit, which was a problem, but if she pulled on them just right while Eddie wasn¡¯t looking, she might eventually be able to get one fold under the tie, then another.


    She looked up at Eddie. His attention was now focused entirely on the mass amplifier, his prisoner forgotten. She tensed up and went to work.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°I had an idea about the dust in the crater,¡± said Benny as they dragged the Skyhook cable out of its round casing, hand over hand like old time sailors adjusting the rigging of a tall ship. They''d wedged the reel between two large rocks, to prevent it from simply following them across the lunar surface.


    It was hard work. Dust had gotten inside the bearing assembly, a mechanism that had been designed to operate in the vacuum of open space and which, therefore, had no protection against anything that might get in and jam it. There was also no way to disassemble the reel and gain direct access to the flat M5 ribbon coiled up inside. They had no choice, therefore, but to just pull it out, the bearing vibrating and squealing horribly, occasionally seizing up and needing a good jerk to get it moving again, all the while dreading that the mechanism might jam up completely, leaving them with not enough cable to do the job and with no option but to return to the shuttle for cutting gear. The only cutting gear they had, though, was, again, designed for use in vacuum, and Benny had no idea how it would behave in the exotic mix of gases that comprised the moon''s atmosphere.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    They were leaving the cable lying in loops and curls on the lunar surface for the time being, but it was so light that whenever the wind gushed the entire length of it would be caught up and pulled off to the east in a great loop, except for the end that Paul had pinned under another large rock. They were planning to leave the other end in the reel for now, therefore, in case the wind carried the whole thing away, leaving them able to do nothing but watch helplessly as the salvation of mankind was carried over the distant horizon and out of sight.


    ¡°What idea?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°When Eddie found this thing,¡± said Benny, indicating the reel. ¡°I should have thought of it earlier. I''ve been to the beach often enough. I''ve seen what happens to the sand when the water swirls around a large boulder.¡±


    ¡°It carves out a depression in the sand,¡± said Paul, looking up hopefully. ¡°But we''d need quite a large boulder to make a depression big enough. We need an area of bedrock at least a metre across, entirely free of dust.¡±


    ¡°I was thinking of a pile of small boulders,¡± replied Benny. ¡°Or a wall, rather. If we could gather up enough of these small boulders...¡± He gestured at the rocks littering the landscape all around. ¡°...and pile them up into a wall about a metre high and three or four metres long... That should be enough in this wind, with the gravity being so low. The downwind side would have to be almost sheer, though, for it to work. There were dry stone walls surrounding the fields near where I used to live, I used to watch the farmers building them. I''m pretty sure I could do the same.¡±


    ¡°Have we got time? The lava gets here in just six hours now, that''s assuming the forecast is still accurate.¡±


    ¡°It takes as long as it takes. How much more of this thing is there, you think?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a thousand...¡± The cable snagged again and Paul gave it another hard jerk to free it. ¡°It''s a thousand metres long.¡± He looked around at the great loops and coils of it lying on the moon''s surface, its uppermost loops fluttering in the wind. ¡°We''re probably about half way there...¡± It snagged again and Paul pulled again, but this time without success. Benny added his strength to that of the other man and they both pulled together. Another half metre emerged reluctantly from the slot in the reel¡¯s outer edge, but then it stopped again, with a firmness that told both men that they''d gotten all they were going to get of the precious material.


    ¡°I''m pretty sure we got more than half,¡± said Benny. ¡°If the reel was transparent, we could see how much there still was in there.¡±


    ¡°Is that enough?¡± asked Paul. ¡°We could cut the reel open, try to get more out.¡±


    ¡°If we had less, I''d say yes,¡± replied the Swede. ¡°Time is our enemy, though. We still have so many things to do. I think we should make do with what we''ve got.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± The wind was picking up, pulling more forcefully at the thin, flat ribbons of material. Both men had to brace themselves to keep from being pushed back by it. Paul saw that there was a fuzziness around everything he was seeing through his visor as the wind-blown dust scoured its outer surface. If they¡¯d had to spend a whole day out here, he thought it likely that his vision would have been completely obscured before the end of the mission. ¡°Maybe we should have left it in the reel until we had the crater sorted out,¡± he said.


    ¡°The more dust got in, the sooner the bearings would have seized up,¡± the Swede replied. ¡°Another couple of hours and we might not have got any at all out of it. As it is, we have five hundred metres, maybe more. That should be plenty.¡±


    Paul nodded. ¡°I''m just worried it¡¯ll get tangled, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°It can''t get tangled. One end¡¯s still in the reel, the other''s trapped under that boulder. You need a free end for a tangle to form.¡±


    Paul had never thought about it that much, or at all really, and so he simply nodded his agreement. He checked the boulder one last time, to make sure the free end wouldn¡¯t pull loose while they were away, then followed Benny towards the crater.


    There were several small boulders already there, and Paul was pleased to see that they all had depressions in the dust on their downwind sides, made by the wind swirling around them. The two men silently got to work, wandering around, picking up boulders and carrying them over to sit beside the largest, the one they''d chosen to be the foundation of their wall. They just left them in a pile at first, but when they had enough Benny began sorting them by size and shape and laid the largest of them in a line to be the foundation of his wall. The rocks were sharp and irregular, never having been eroded by wind or rain in all the millions of years they''d lain on the moon''s surface, and they locked together well, almost as if they''d been meant to be assembled. Benny hummed a tune to himself as he worked, and as the wall grew it began to have the desired effect, the depression in the dust growing until they could see a small, exposed spot of bare bedrock on which tiny specks of dust spun and danced like midges.


    ¡°Where''s all this dust coming from, anyway?¡± mused Paul as he returned with another three rocks cradled in his arms. ¡°Why hasn''t it all been blown away by now and dumped into the magma ocean?¡±


    ¡°I suspect it comes from the magma ocean,¡± replied Benny without looking up from his work. ¡°The wind here is mild compared to what it is elsewhere. Across most of the moon it¡¯s supersonic. The wind is actually blowing faster than the speed of sound. It must be whipping the molten rock up into a wild froth, and the spray carried up into the air solidifies and turns to dust. We''ll know for certain when the scientists back on Earth analyse it, but you can already see that it¡¯s black. The colour of basalt.¡±


    ¡°It''s hard to see any colours in this gloom,¡± said Paul. He flicked his eyes up to the top, left hand corner of his visor display where the time was being displayed in glowing green numbers. No time to stop and chat. He turned and walked back across the surface of the moon to find more boulders.


    An hour later, Benny¡¯s wall was large enough to create an area of bare bedrock a metre across on its downwind side. ¡°There''s still dust blowing around down there,¡± said the Swede, though. ¡°We¡¯ll never get it completely clean. The moment we spread glue, dust will stick to it and completely cover it.¡±


    ¡°Not if we hold the plate right next to the wall while we spread the glue on it. The wall should protect it. Then we slap it down on the bedrock quickly, before the dust can get on it.¡±


    ¡°The bedrock''s not completely flat. I wish we had time to grind it flat.¡±


    ¡°Me too, but there should be enough contact between the plate and the bedrock to take the strain.¡±


    Paul allowed himself to fall forward onto his hands, then ran his hand over the bedrock to feel its texture. It was rougher than he''d realised. He could feel bumps and depressions in it, but there was nothing they could do about that. It would either hold or it wouldn''t.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s not too bad,¡± he said as Benny helped him back to his feet. No point worrying the other man. ¡°Let''s go get the plate.¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Thirty minutes later, the plate was in place. A round disc sixty centimetres across with a round loop welded to it. Glue peeped out from under it all around its edge, already hard, and when Paul pulled on the loop it felt as solid as a rock. Paul had brought the end of the tether with him, after discovering that it was, after all, possible for a line anchored at both ends to get tangled. With his thick, clumsy gloved hands there was no way he could untie the knot, and so they could only try to come to terms with the fact that they had a hundred metres less of the tether than they thought they¡¯d have.


    He passed it through the loop, tying it in place and pulling it tight. ¡°I thought you might do two half hitches,¡± said Benny. ¡°Something simple and reliable.¡±


    ¡°An anchor bend is better,¡± replied Paul, giving it a final tug. ¡°Don''t want it coming undone at the wrong moment.¡± He stared at the knot for a while longer. He gave the tether another tug, gave the plate another tug. He knew that, once they left the crater, they would never be coming back. If there was a problem with the anchor point, they had this one chance to fix it. He gave the tether one more tug, just for luck. ¡°That look okay to you, Ben?¡± he asked.


    ¡°It''s as good as we can get it,¡± the Swede replied. ¡°If we had the right equipment, we could do a better job. If we had more time before the lava arrives. If we''d had more time to prepare beforehand, like five or ten years...¡±


    ¡°Yes, but we didn''t. The question is, is there anything we can do, here and now, to anchor it better?¡±


    ¡°No, my friend. I don¡¯t believe there is.¡±


    Paul nodded, then gave a heavy sigh. ¡°Okay then. Let¡¯s get the other end connected to the shuttle.¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Connecting the other end of the tether to the shuttle was much easier. An attachment point had been made for it before they''d left the space station, between the three main engine nozzles. Paul threaded the tether through the eyelet, pulled it through and knotted it. ¡°It''s funny,¡± he said. ¡°We have the power of Gods to rearrange the celestial bodies of the solar system, and we''re going to be doing it with what is, basically, a knotted length of string.¡±


    Benny smiled in the privacy of his helmet at the irony of it. ¡°We''ve got four hundred metres of tether between the two knots,¡± he said, having paced it out on the way back. ¡°It¡¯ll take an object that high above the ground about twenty two seconds to fall that far, in the moon''s gravity.¡±


    ¡°But we have to allow time for the engines to reverse our downwards motion before we hit the ground,¡± said Paul. ¡°I did some calculations on the trip out. How often we''d have to turn the mass dampener on and off depending on the length of tether we ended up with. I can''t remember what the figures were for four hundred metres, but we¡¯ll be turning it on and off quite frequently, I know that. If it burns out before we¡¯re done, we¡¯re screwed.¡±


    ¡°One thing that¡¯s certain is that it''ll have to be turned on rather longer than off,¡± said Benny. ¡°Also, the engines will be firing continuously. We cannot turn them on and off that frequently, so we¡¯ll be wasting a lot of fuel.¡±


    ¡°Can''t be helped,¡± replied Paul. ¡°What worries me is that, with the mass dampener on longer than it''s off, there won''t be enough time for what¡¯s shot up to come back down again. By the time we finish the burn, we¡¯ll probably be towing an expanding cloud of debris rather than a single soIid moon.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll pull itself back together when we¡¯re done mucking around with it. I would imagine that the moon¡¯s going to be a spectacular place for a while, but whatever happens will be four hundred thousand kilometres away from the Earth. That should be far enough that it''ll be nothing more than a glorious spectacle back home without posing any kind of a risk to anyone on the ground. The risk will all be to us. We''re going to be, at most, a mere four hundred metres away from the most incredibly violent place in the solar system, and occasionally much closer than that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we''ll have a rather singed tail when we return to the space station,¡± said Paul. ¡°If we get back...¡±

 Chapter Forty Three

    Climbing back up to the cockpit, they found Eddie working on the mass amplifier with a small soldering iron. It was sitting on his chair with the lid open and a small curl of smoke was rising from where he was working. ¡°You''ll find the secondary navigation system''s not working,¡± he said without looking up. ¡°I had to borrow some bits from it.¡±


    ¡°Did you check that the primary system was working before you did that?¡± asked Benny.


    ¡°Not being a total moron, I did. If it hadn''t been, I''d have taken the chip from it instead.¡±


    Benny took his seat to run a diagnostic program anyway while Paul went over to stand beside Susan. ¡°You okay?¡± he asked, putting a gloved hand on the shoulder of her spacesuit. It was meant to be comforting and reassuring, but he doubted that she even felt it through so many layers of fabric.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she replied. ¡°I enjoy being tied to chairs.¡±


    ¡°I know that what happened wasn''t your fault. You were under a lot of stress. You didn''t know what you were doing...¡±


    ¡°Er, actually, I''m pretty sure she did,¡± and Eddie, though. ¡°We were talking while you were outside and she didn''t sound at all remorseful.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know her like we do,¡± said Paul. ¡°We¡¯ve spent months on the space station together. You get to know someone pretty well under those circumstances. If she were in her right mind, she just wouldn''t be capable of such a thing. Only a few hours have passed. It probably takes longer than that for someone to recover from something like that. By the time we get back to Harmony I''m sure she''ll be back to her old self and we¡¯ll all be laughing about it.¡± Eddie nodded doubtfully. ¡°Even so, though,¡± said Paul to Susan, ¡°I''m afraid you¡¯ll have to stay tied up for a little while longer. As soon as we''re safely on our way back home we can let you loose. Just an hour or so, probably.¡±


    He looked over at Eddie, who nodded. ¡°Yes, I''m pretty much done here,¡± he said. ¡°Of course, we won''t know if it¡¯s actually working until we turn it on, but I''ve fixed all the visible damage. If it still doesn''t work, I have no idea where the problem might be, and It¡¯ll probably take more time than we have to find out.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s hope it''s working,¡± said Paul.


    ¡°How much time do we have, by the way?¡±


    Paul looked at the clock display on the inside of his visor. ¡°If the estimate they gave us is accurate, we¡¯ve got an hour before the river of lava arrives. Of course, it may arrive early, or late...¡±


    ¡°How soon before we can lift off?¡± asked Benny.


    ¡°Just give me five minutes to finish up,¡± said Eddie.


    ¡°Any way you can hurry it up?¡±


    ¡°If we were seconds away from being immolated, probably, but I''d rather take my time if I can.¡±


    Benny nodded reluctantly and went to the windows, trying to remember from what direction the magma would be coming. That way wasn''t it? He looked to the west, but there was nothing visible on the horizon but flashes of lightning, vividly bright against a dark backdrop. The view was blurry, and when he looked closer he saw that the outside of the windows were being sandblasted by the dust, just as the visor of his helmet was. His eyes had adjusted to the scouring of his visor so that he no longer noticed it, but now he was seeing the moon through two layers of frosted glass. Still, he ought to be able to see a river of lava if there was one out there...


    There was a faint brightness in the distance, he saw. He hadn''t noticed it at first, it was partially obscured by sheets of dust being blown on the wind. It was right at the edge of perception. Was he imagining it? He stared at it, trying to force his brain to tell him if it was real, and at that moment the shuttle was shaken by another moonquake, the most violent one so far. The three astronauts braced themselves, and Eddie hastily withdrew the soldering iron from the machine¡¯s interior before the hot tip touched the wrong thing and caused irreparable damage. From under the floor came the sound of something falling over in the room below, the crash and clatter of metal.


    The ground heaved under them and the shuttle was thrown like a cowboy riding a steer. The astronauts were briefly weightless, and then the shuttle hit the ground again with a slam that made Paul fear that it might have suffered fatal damage. He heard the sound of glass shattering and looked up in time to see the front window falling in jagged shards into the cockpit. The wind blew in, carrying moon dust that swirled around them and got everywhere. Eddie closed the case of the mass amplifier with a cry of alarm. ¡°Keep the dust out!¡± he cried. ¡°Dust will wreck the machine!¡±


    Paul stared at the jagged hole in the window as if wondering what they had that they could possibly cover it with. ¡°Take it below,¡± he said as the shaking continued. ¡°We can block the hole in the floor easier than the window.¡±


    Eddie nodded, but waited to pick the device up until the vibrations began to subside. Then, the device in one hand and the soldering iron in the other, he staggered across to the ladder. He tucked the soldering iron under his arm, making sure the hot tip wasn''t touching his spacesuit, then climbed down the ladder one handed.


    Paul looked around for something to block the stairwell with, then just climbed half way down the stairs so that his spacesuited body was doing the job. Benny, meanwhile, picked to every piece of broken glass he could find and threw them out through the broken window. There was dust settling on the flight controls. He tried to brush it away but more just blew in to replace it. The display screens were hidden by it, and it would prevent the glass surface from being able to detect the touch of his fingers. ¡°We can''t fly like this!¡± he cried in dismay.


    Susan chuckled. ¡°Man proposes,¡± she said. ¡°God disposes.¡±


    ¡°I''m the captain of this ship,¡± said Paul, though. ¡°Not God.¡± He turned to Benny. ¡°The moment we turn on the mass dampener, the wind will stop,¡± he said. ¡°Or at least, it¡¯ll blow upwards, not horizontally. Will you have time to clean the displays off before we have to start the engines?¡±


    ¡°If I had a brush, perhaps. I daren''t just use my hands, I''ll scratch the screens. Wait a minute... Where''s the vacuum cleaner?¡±


    ¡°Down below,¡± said Paul, ¡°but there''s too much dust to suck up.¡±


    ¡°Not suck, blow. We can blow the dust off. Eddie, can you hand the vacuum up?¡±


    ¡°Little busy at the moment,¡± replied Eddie over the intercom.


    ¡°Soon as you can, then.¡± He looked out the window again, towards where he''d seen the glow a moment before. Perhaps he''d only imagined it...


    The glow was still there, and brighter than before. A dull red glow that lit the underside of the thick clouds covering the sky. ¡°Skit!¡± he cried in alarm. ¡°The lava! It''s almost here!¡±


    Paul joined him and looked in the same direction. Even through the thick spacesuit, Benny saw him stiffen with fear. ¡°Eddie!¡± he cried. ¡°We need that mass amplifier! Now!¡±


    ¡°And the vacuum cleaner!¡± added Benny.


    ¡°I''m almost done...¡±


    ¡°The river of lava''s almost here! We can see it coming! We need that thing now!¡±


    They heard a curse over the intercom and the sounds of the frantic clattering of small, metal objects. ¡°Ten seconds!¡± he cried.


    ¡°Make it five! In fact, make it now! Right now!¡±


    The glow was getting brighter even as they watched, and then they saw the lava itself, splashing and running across the dusty plain towards them seemingly as fast as an express train. ¡°I¡¯ve seen lava!¡± said Paul in disbelief. ¡°I was on Mt Etna in fifty five. It was slow. A snail could have kept in front of it!¡±


    ¡°We can ask the vulcanologists later,¡± said Benny. ¡°Right now I estimate we have about sixty seconds before...¡±


    ¡±Ready!¡± called Eddy over the intercom. ¡°Let me know when to turn it on.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s the bloody vacuum?¡± cried Benny.


    ¡°Oh! Yes! Er, where is it?¡±


    ¡°Beside the airlock door. Next to the fire extinguisher. Hurry!¡±


    A moment later Paul reached down, lifted up a small, compact object and handed it to Benny. He flipped a switch on the side, flipped another and a gust of air blew from the nozzle at the front. He used it to blow the dust from the instrument panel and the display screens. ¡°Here,¡± he said to Paul, handing it across to him. ¡°Keep blowing dust. I''m going to start everything up.¡±


    Paul took it and kept working to keep the cockpit clean. The air was full of dust now, making it hard to see what they were doing. Most of the dust he blew off just settled somewhere equally inconvenient, but he kept at it and watched as the display screens lit up with status reports and system indicators. Eddie reappeared through the stairwell and took his place beside Susan in one of the rear seats. He''d closed the case of the mass amplifier and stuck some tape over the holes to keep the dust out. ¡°Let me know when to turn it on,¡± he said.


    ¡°All systems show ready,¡± said Benny. ¡°Are we good to lift, Paul?¡±


    ¡°You''re in charge,¡± Paul replied. ¡°You¡¯re in command when we¡¯re under way.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Understood. I''m in command. ¡°Eddie, switch on in five. Understood?¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡±


    ¡°Five, four, three, two, one...¡±


    Orbiting the moon, the mass dampener aboard Lunar Rescue One activated, rendering the entire moon and the shuttle virtually massless. A fraction of a second later Eddie''s mass amplifier activated, restoring mass to the shuttle and its remaining fuel. Without weight to hold it down, the entire moon then expanded outward. Its atmosphere shot upwards and the magma ocean leapt into the sky. Eddie felt a gentle pressure pushing him down into his seat as the moon''s solid remnant was pushed towards by the pressure of the magma below. Benny saw the lava river recede, leaving behind rock that had been heated red by its brief presence. The wind that had been gusting in through the broken window fell still and the dust settled, leaving the air thankfully clear.


    The crew settled down in their seats and waited for the initial acceleration to stop.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Down on Earth, millions of people glued to their television screens for any news of the mission, or standing outside staring up at the moon in the sky, gave a collective gasp as they saw it ballooning outwards, just as it had during the ill fated Chinese attempt to protect the world. Richard Lewis yelled for his mother to wake up and come out to see the scenes unfolding on their small tablet screen. Margaret shot out of the bedroom she shared with Cathy and Hazel, the two younger woman hurrying to keep up with her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She had tried hard to stay awake for the entire duration of her husband''s mission, but fatigue had caught up with her and she had finally been persuaded to go and lie down, after having made her son promise to wake her up if anything happened.


    ¡°...the sign we''ve all been waiting for,¡± the invisible commentator was saying. ¡°We can deduce now that the crew of the Pluivier survived their hazardous landing on the surface of the moon and have tethered the shuttle to it. Now begins the task of pulling it back into its old orbit.¡±


    Margaret breathed a huge sign of relief, while outside they heard distant sounds of cheering from the men of the airbase. Someone, somewhere, had begun setting off fireworks, a little prematurely, Richard thought. On the screen, the moon, which had been nothing more than a featureless, steely grey disc, was suddenly bisected by a line of incandescent brightness where superheated magma was escaping from under the edge of the remaining rocky crust. People out in the open, staring up at the moon in the night sky, suddenly had to shade their eyes and look away as if they were looking at the sun. Margaret gasped in horror, thinking of Paul being so close to that vast release of energy, but she knew that the solid crust to which the shuttle was tethered was shielding him from it. The commentators on the television had taken pains to explain that over and over again over the previous few hours.


    ¡°I know there''s a chance he might not have survived,¡± she said, ¡°but at least one of them must have, and that means there''s a good chance that he did.¡± She gathered Richard and Hazel up in her arms and gave them a hug. ¡°He''s coming back to us!¡± she said. ¡°I know it!¡±


    ¡°Course he is,¡± agreed Richard, hoping it was true. Watching the agonies his mother had been going through had been almost as bad as his own anxiety about the safety of his father. ¡°He''s coming back! I have a good feeling about it!¡±


    Margaret replied by tightening her hug about him. Richard wondered whether he ought to say something to reflect the fact that Paul was far from out of danger yet, in case her hopes were raised too high and the news of a tragedy was consequently more devastating than it would otherwise have been, but there was nothing he could tell her that she didn''t already know. He kept silent, therefore, deciding that what she needed now were words of hope and optimism. Bad news might come later, but right now there was hope and that was what she needed.


    ¡°He''s coming home,¡± he said again, therefore. ¡°Think of the party we''re going to have when he gets here, when he comes in through that door.¡±


    Margaret nodded, and they stared at the image of the exploding moon on the small tablet screen as the commentator waffled on about the challenges the crew of the Pluvier would be facing next. Len and Cathy, meanwhile, knowing that, much though they and their spouses loved each other, this was a moment in which they couldn''t fully share, went to the kitchen area to make them all a nice cup of tea.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    Benny waited impatiently for the initial upwards acceleration to stop. As the curving, two thousand kilometre wide section of lunar crust rose, the magma below found itself free to escape sideways from under it and the upwards pressure lessened. The acceleration dropped off, therefore, and the crew found themselves in free fall. Benny tapped out commands on the touchscreen in front of him and the attitude control rockets in the ship¡¯s nose fired, lifting it up. When the shuttle was vertical with respect to the ground below, he then fired the manoeuvring rockets on either side of the tail and the ship rose, trailing the tether behind it.


    ¡°This is when we find out of it¡¯s still attached,¡± said Paul. ¡°That last earthquake might have knocked it loose.¡±


    ¡°Better bloody not have!¡± said Eddie. ¡°After everything we''ve been through. When will we know?¡±


    ¡°Just about...¡± said Benny, ¡°...now. We should feel a jerk as we reach the end of the tether.¡±


    They all tensed up but no jerk came. They waited in growing tension as the seconds passed. Paul looked anxiously across at Benny, but he had his eyes fixed on the instruments in front of him. Eddie looked across at Susan and saw her staring up at the ceiling, a look of serenity on her face. She thought God had snapped the cable and was glad about it. Then she looked across at him. ¡°You cannot go against the will of God,¡± she said. ¡°It''s folly to even try.¡±


    ¡°I have news,¡± said Benny, sounding grim. ¡°The instruments just registered a small drop in our acceleration. Very small, too small for us to feel. It¡¯s consistent to our towing a mass behind us of around one point four kilograms.¡±


    Eddie''s stomach sank. He felt black despair washing over him. ¡°We only got a small piece of rock,¡± he said. ¡°Relatively small. Maybe still miles across, but way too small to pull the rest of the moon behind it with its gravity. The ground must have been shattered, maybe when the Scatter Cloud first hit. We were always doomed to failure.¡±


    ¡°Any way of telling how big a chunk of rock we''ve got?¡± asked Paul.


    ¡°There¡¯s a rear facing camera,¡± said Benny. He pointed at a cluster of small screens near the top of the instrument panel. He touched a control and the image from one of them was transferred to the main screen. It showed the surface of the moon, now free of dust and wind. Just bare rock, almost completely smooth, filling the screen. Benny turned the camera to look sideways until a horizon came into view, but the edge was still hidden by the curvature it had had as a piece of the moon''s crust. It could have been ten miles across or a thousand.


    ¡°We continue with the mission,¡± said Benny. ¡°Just as though everything were going normally. For all we know, maybe Lunar Rescue One has reduced the mass of the moon way more than we ever dared hope. Maybe we''ve got the entire two thousand kilometre wide section of crust and it weighs just one point four kilograms.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°So. Prepare to turn your device off, Eddie. I''ll turn off Lunar Rescue One when you''ve done it, but be prepared to turn it back on again before we hit the ground.¡±


    ¡°Roger.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Flip the switch in three, two, one, now.¡±


    Eddie did so, and Benny touched a control in front of him a moment later. The mass dampener attached to the front of the Long March rocket was turned off and the moon''s full mass was restored. All the air, rocks and droplets of molten rock that had been thrown up into space felt their outward motions slowing under the influence of the moon''s collective gravity. It all dropped and began to fall again, as did the Shuttle and the mass of rock to which it was attached. Its engines continued to fire, but they had far too little thrust to resist the full mass of the moon.


    The huge section of lunar crust tethered to the Shuttle fell back towards the moon, but the crust had mass and gravity of its own and exerted its own attraction on the main bulk of the moon, which now consisted entirely of molten rock. The entirety of the moon, solid and liquid together, was therefore moving very slightly faster in its orbit around the Earth, moving into a very slightly higher orbit. If they did nothing more, therefore, the moon''s next close approach to the Earth wouldn''t be quite as close as the last one had been.


    ¡°Are you watching our altitude, Ben?¡± asked Paul anxiously.


    ¡°I am,¡± replied the Swede, a little testily. ¡°Switching Lunar Rescue One back on in ten seconds. Stand by Eddie.¡± The scene on the monitor showed the rock they were towing growing visibly as its gravity pulled them down, but they were approaching it more slowly then they otherwise would have because it was itself falling towards the massive ball of molten rock close behind it. ¡°Ready, Eddie?¡±


    ¡°Ready,¡± Eddie replied.


    ¡°Okay. Flipping the switch now.¡± He turned the mass dampener on again and the moon once again flared outwards as its gravity vanished along with its mass and there was nothing to resist its internal pressure. Eddie flipped the switch on the mass amplifier and the shuttle''s engines began to brake its fall towards the mass of solid rock beneath it. The crew tensed up as they saw it continuing to approach, but they gradually slowed, came to a halt and began to rise again. A few seconds later they once again reached the end of the tether and began pulling the rock again.


    ¡°We''re now pulling a weight of one point two kilograms,¡± said Benny. ¡°We lost some of it.¡±


    ¡°Hopefully, we''ve still got enough,¡± said Paul. ¡°I just wish we knew how much rock we¡¯re towing. Are we actually accomplishing anything or are we risking our lives for nothing?¡±


    ¡°Guess we won¡¯t know until we¡¯re back in radio contact with Earth,¡± said Eddie. ¡°Until then, we can only keep doing what we¡¯re doing and hope for the best.¡±


    The other two men nodded their agreement while, unnoticed by any of them, Susan continued to work on the zip ties holding her to the chair.


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°As you can clearly see,¡± said the television commentator, ¡°The entire remaining solid crust of the moon has pulled completely away from the molten remainder. A curving slab nearly a thousand kilometres across and estimated to be two hundred kilometres thick in the centre... Oh, look at that!¡±


    As the Wetherby scientists watched in breathless awe, a ¡®thin¡¯ section of crust near the edge broke off and fell with majestic slowness towards the spreading globe of molten rock beside it. When it hit, it caused the biggest splash the solar system had known in three billion years. Molten rock heated to incandescent temperatures rose almost too slowly to see, first on one side of the dropping fragment of crust, then on the other as it hit edge on and sank, slowly but inevitably, out of sight. Beside it, other fragments of stone breaking away from the main mass, each one the size of the dinosaur killer asteroid, went almost unnoticed.


    Ben Wrexham felt his heart hammering with excitement as his brain struggled to comprehend the scale of what he was seeing on the big, wall mounted television screen. Around him, he heard the others gasping with shock and saw hands clenched white as they gripped those of the people sitting beside them. Unlike the majority of the world''s population, for whom it was little more than a firework display in the sky, these people knew the magnitude of what they were seeing and thought that four hundred thousand kilometres was far too little distance between it and the home of all humanity.


    ¡°If just one of those fragments comes our way,¡± said Frank, ¡°it¡¯s the end of everything. There''s nothing we could do to stop it. Nothing we could do but sit here and watch it come.¡±


    ¡°There''s no way any of it could come our way,¡± said James, though. ¡°It''s all gravitationally bound together.¡±


    ¡°Not when the mass dampener''s turned on, and there''s so much we don''t know about what goes on at the very centre of large worlds. Who knows what sudden release of energy there might be, larger than the moon''s gravitational binding energy?¡±


    ¡°If something like that were going to happen, it would have happened by now.¡±


    ¡°Would it? Things on that scale take time. It''s got to burrow its way up through a thousand kilometres of molten rock.¡±


    James turned to Samantha. ¡°You''re the expert. Is it possible there could be something exotic going on in the heart of the moon?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve never seen any evidence for anything other than a solid, nickel, iron core. We''ve never observed any phenomenon that required an unconventional explanation.¡±


    ¡°Which proves nothing,¡± replied Frank. ¡°Nothing like this has ever happened to the moon before.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s too late to worry about it now,¡± interrupted Ben before James could reply. ¡°At the moment, everything''s going to plan. They''ve hooked a chunk of the moon that¡¯s more than big enough to do the job. So long as nothing unexpected happens, they''re on their way to triumphant success.¡±


    The others took the hint and they watched silently as the commentator continued to give a running commentary on the titanic events taking place on the screen in front of them.

 Chapter Forty Four

    ¡°Ready for the fourth pull,¡± said Benny. ¡°Turning the mass dampener on in sixty seconds.¡±


    Eddie acknowledged and reached again for the switch on the side of the device mounted on the bulkhead by his feet.


    ¡°My oxygen''s getting low,¡± said Susan. ¡°Please hook me up before I run out.¡± She nodded her head towards the hose lying on the floor by her feet. It ran across the floor and down through the interdeck access hatch to the spacesuit storage rack in the room below where they were normally hung while their air tanks were refilled. Paul had rigged it up just after she''d been secured to the chair, to avoid having to release her and take her below every few hours.


    ¡°Can you wait?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°We¡¯ll be done and on our way home in thirty minutes.¡±


    ¡°In thirty minutes I¡¯ll be dead. I''m almost out.¡±


    ¡°Why didn''t you say something earlier?¡±


    ¡°I didn''t think. There was too much going on.¡±


    ¡°The spacesuit sounds an alarm when you get down to thirty minutes.¡±


    ¡°There wasn¡¯t an alarm. I think the suit may have been damaged when we were fighting. I''m serious, Eddie, I''m almost out of oxygen!¡±


    Eddie checked the clock on the edge of his visor display. Still forty five seconds before he needed to turn the device on. It would only take a couple of seconds to plug the hose in. He unfastened his safety belts, therefore, and leaned down to grab the hose, forcing the stiff spacesuit to bend. He got his thick, clumsy gloved fingers around it and picked it up. Then he pushed himself over towards Susan. The attachment point was on her waist. He reached down to grab a fold of her spacesuit to steady himself and pushed the end of the hose towards the socket.


    With a grunt of effort, Susan pulled her arm the rest of the way free from the zip tie and threw it around his waist, pulling him tight against her. Eddie gave a gasp of surprise and tried to push himself away, but she held on with manic strength, her face twisted into a grimace of effort.


    ¡°Susan! Stop it! You''ll kill us all!¡±


    Paul and Benny looked around to see what was happening. ¡°Susan!¡± cried Paul in horror. ¡°Let go of him! Now!¡±


    Susan made no reply, just held on tighter with her free hand as he struggled in greater desperation to free himself. He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed, but the angle was awkward and he couldn''t use his full strength.


    ¡°We hit the ground in two minutes!¡± cried Benny urgently.


    Paul left his seat and pushed himself over it to go to Eddie''s aid. He took hold of Susan''s gloved hand and pulled. It came away from Eddie''s waist, but Susan then lashed out with it, tearing it free from Paul''s grip and grabbing Eddie''s waist again. Paul turned himself so that he could brace his feet against the floor and reached out again to grab Susan''s hand.


    ¡°Never mind that,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°Just flip the switch when Benny tells you to. Susan can cuddle me all she wants.¡±


    Paul nodded and moved to sit in Eddie''s seat. Susan gave a cry of anger, though, and changed her grip to grab hold of the soldering iron he still had strapped to his equipment belt. It was cold now, but the end was fairly sharp and made a pretty good dagger as she pulled it loose and stabbed it as hard as she could between his shoulder blades.


    The air tanks of the spacesuits they were wearing were distributed around their upper bodies, adding a few centimetres to their thickness without the need for a bulky backpack. The end of the soldering iron penetrated the outer layers of fabric and sliced through the thin hose connecting two of the small tanks. Eddie heard the sound of escaping air and saw a warning light in his visor display. He pushed himself away in alarm as Susan stabbed again, this time puncturing one of the tanks itself.


    ¡°Susan!¡± cried Eddie. ¡°For God¡¯s sake...¡±


    ¡°Yes, for God''s sake!¡± replied Susan. She pulled the soldering iron free to stab again, but Eddie grabbed her wrist to stop her. He pulled the soldering iron out of her grasp and threw it across the cabin. Susan went to grab him about the waist again but Eddie had enough distance from her now to keep out of her grasp.


    ¡°I''m leaking air!¡± he cried.


    Paul began rising from his seat to help him but Benny cried out. ¡±No! Throw the switch! Now!¡±


    Paul hesitated, looking at Eddie, floating near the ceiling. For a moment he looked torn and Benny had to shout at him again. ¡°Paul! Now! Before we hit the ground!¡±


    Paul nodded, sat himself back down in Eddie''s seat and flipped the switch. A small amount of gravity returned, turning the rear bulkhead into the floor. Eddie dropped down onto it and stood there. He reached one hand around for the punctures in his spacesuit, but his arms weren''t able to bend nearly enough.


    Paul climbed carefully out of his seat to help him, while the sound of Susan''s laughter came from his helmet speakers. ¡°Crazy bitch!¡± he cried. ¡°What the hell¡¯s gotten into you?¡± He went for the puncture repair kit while Susan used her free hand to try to free herself from the remaining zip ties.


    ¡°I can patch the suit,¡± Paul told Eddie, ¡°but I can''t patch the air tanks. You¡¯ll be leaking air into your spacesuit, bypassing the regulators.¡±


    ¡°Does that matter?¡± asked Eddie. ¡°So long as I¡¯m breathing it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it matters. The pressure inside your suit will be too high, like you¡¯re deep sea diving. So long as you keep it on you¡¯ll be okay, but the moment you take it off you¡¯ll get the bends. You¡¯ll have to decompress, and I don''t know how long that¡¯ll take. You might have to keep your suit on until we get back to Earth. Also, you''ll get oxygen toxicity unless you turn down your oxygen, say to around two percent." He reached for the control panel on Eddie''s sleeve.


    Suddenly, though, Susan was free. She jumped out of her seat and threw herself up between the two front seats to make a grab for the joystick. Benny yelped in surprise and reached out to stop her, but she hauled herself hand over hand upwards towards the banks of screens and control panels that currently formed the ceiling. She hauled herself into the co-pilot¡¯s chair and sat on its back while Benny reached over in an attempt to throw her back down. Susan kicked upwards, though, and her foot hit one of the touch screens, smashing it and causing the others to fill up with warning messages in flashing red.


    Benny cursed in Swedish. ¡°Dammit, what are you trying to do? Some help up here, guys!¡±


    Paul turned and kicked himself upwards, therefore, sailing easily between the two front seats in the low acceleration. Benny, meanwhile, had unbuckled himself from his seat and was leaning over to try to stop Susan, who was reaching for the co-pilot''s joystick. Benny¡¯s hand landed on hers and they struggled for control of it. The shuttle pitched left and right as the attitude control jets in the nose fired erratically, but then Susan gathered all her strength and thrust it forward as far as it would go. The shuttle pitched forward and Benny and Susan were thrown against the control panels. More alarms sounded in their helmet speakers as they inadvertently activated several controls simultaneously and the shuttle spun around out of control.


    Benny reached for the joystick again, but Susan had a firm grip on it and refused to let go. Paul hauled himself into the forward cockpit area and added his strength to Benny¡¯s and together they pulled her gloved hand from the black, stubby handle. The joystick automatically centred itself, but the shuttle was still tumbling and as the tether wrapped itself around the small spacecraft the front window momentarily became down. All four astronauts fell towards it. Paul grabbed hold of the co-pilot¡¯s chair and Benny hit the intact right hand window, but Eddie and Susan fell against the broken left hand window and Eddie fell through it and out into empty space.


    For a moment, Eddie¡¯s brain froze up as it refused to accept what had happened to him, but then he looked back and he saw the cockpit window from the outside. The realisation shocked his brain back into life, and the realisation that he was a dead man hit him like a sledgehammer. There was nothing within reach that he could grab hold of. He could only stare at the stars wheeling around him, regarding his predicament with dispassionate curiosity. He wondered whether his air would last until he fell down to the moon, and if he did, whether he would fall onto the remaining rocky crust or into blazing hot lava. It suddenly seemed very important that he knew which, even though his death would be immediate either way. Calm descended upon him. He thought back on all the things that had worried and concerned him during his life, all of which now seemed trivially unimportant.


    The shuttle was still close alongside, and he wondered why he wasn''t drifting away from it. He turned his head and was astonished to see Susan leaning out through the broken window, holding his wrist in one outstretched hand. He realised that there had been voices coming from his helmet speakers for a while and that he''d been too shocked and terrified to notice. ¡°We''ve got you!¡± said Benny¡¯s voice. ¡°Careful, we¡¯re going to pull you back in.¡±


    ¡°Susan?¡± said Eddie. ¡°I thought you were trying to kill us!¡±


    She didn''t reply, but he could guess what had happened. Seeing him flying away through the window, she''d reached out and grabbed his arm in a pure reflex action before she¡¯d known what she was doing, and once she had him she couldn''t bring herself to let go. Stabbing him with a soldering iron was one thing. She''d known there were layers of thick fabric and gadgetry in his spacesuit. The sharp tip was very unlikely to reach his skin. Stabbing him had merely been a delaying tactic, forcing Paul to help him instead of stopping her. It had been the same when she¡¯d come at him with the power drill. A puncture to a spacesuit was easily patched, and even if she''d reached his flesh it would have been a comparatively minor wound. This, though, was different. Letting him drift away into space would have been nothing less than cold blooded murder, and she simply wasn¡¯t capable of such an act.


    Between them, Susan and Benny carefully guided Eddie back in through the broken window. He tried to see Susan''s face as she leaned out to grab his waist, but the cockpit lights were reflected from her visor and he couldn¡¯t see anything inside. He grasped hold of their arms and shoulders and carefully guided his legs in through the shards of broken glass around the window frame. Then he was inside and he realised he was trembling all over, shaking with the nearness of his escape. He allowed himself to just float there in the cabin while his body recovered.Stolen story; please report.


    The others were still talking, or rather shouting urgently. Once again, he''d been too wrapped up in his own concerns to notice. Benny had returned to his pilots seat and was wrestling with the controls in an attempt to get the shuttle back under control. He was yelling at Paul to turn the mass amplifier off, but Paul was reluctant to leave Susan alone in case she tried to sabotage the mission again. ¡°You have to turn it off!¡± Benny repeated, though ¡°I can''t turn the mass dampener off until you turn the mass amplifier off!¡±


    It took Eddie''s overloaded brain a moment to process what he was saying, but gradually his mind cleared. Of course. They had to turn the mass dampener on the Long March rocket off every few minutes to allow the moon''s gravity to slow down its expansion. Otherwise it would fly apart into a cloud of debris that would inevitably destroy the Earth as some of it was thrown downwards by gravitational interactions with larger fragments. They were long past the time they had intended to do so, and the cloud of fragments the moon had become was growing dangerously large. Also, the solid portion of crust they were pulling was getting too far from the rest of the moon, approaching the maximum range at which its gravity would have a useful effect on the moon¡¯s orbit.


    ¡°I''ll get it,¡± he said, pushing against the chair to propel himself to the back of the cabin. The shuttle continued to spin as he did so. He imagined the tether wrapping itself around the wings and rudder, perhaps getting burned in the exhaust from the engines. Benny was trying to keep the shuttle side on to the moon to avoid this, but as a result the tether wrapped itself around the largely undamaged right wing. As the shuttle once again pulled it tight it slipped towards the wing''s tip. It snagged momentarily on a place where an impact with a boulder during landing had crumpled the wing''s forward edge, but then it slipped free and the shuttle gave a sudden lurch forward until the tether was once again pulled tight. He heard Benny give a sigh of relief and he turned the shuttle so that it was once more pointed away from the moon.


    Eddie reached the mass amplifier and reached down to flip the switch. Then he turned himself around and pushed himself down into his seat, fastening his seat belt to hold himself in place. He spent a moment contemplating the fact that he was still alive, then brought his attention firmly back to the here and now and the things that still needed doing.


    Susan seemed to have gone lifeless. She simply floated there while Paul gently guided her through the air back to her seat. There wasn''t enough room in the rear of the cabin for all three of them, so Eddie got back out of his seat to help.


    ¡°I''m sorry,¡± said Paul, ¡°but we have to tie you back to the chair. I know you saved Eddie''s life, but we can''t take any chances. You understand?¡±


    Susan made no reply. She allowed herself to be placed back in her seat and remained there motionless while Paul went below to get some more zip ties. When he returned she made no protest as he tied them around her arms. Paul then made Eddie turn around so he could finish patching his spacesuit.


    ¡°Susan?¡± said Eddie hesitantly as Paul smeared fast setting sealant into the holes, followed by a layer of glue all across his back. ¡°Susan, thanks for saving me.¡± Susan remained silent. So far as Eddie could tell she was simply staring straight ahead. ¡°You saved my life.¡± Still no reply. ¡°Susan? Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°What do you think?¡± she said at last.


    Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Thank you for saving my life,¡± he said again.


    ¡°I didn''t mean to. I wanted to kill you. I wanted to kill all of us. I failed God.¡±


    ¡°Do you seriously think that saving a man''s life is failing God?¡±


    ¡°He has a plan. We are working against that plan. It was my duty to stop you.¡±


    ¡°What makes you so sure you know what God''s plan is? Maybe God''s plan was for us to succeed in our mission.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°How can you be so sure?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± Eddie heard her giving a greatly heavy sigh. ¡°I suppose I''m damned now.¡±


    Eddie almost laughed aloud. ¡°You seriously think you''re damned for saving a man¡¯s life? You are seriously screwed up!¡±


    ¡°One man''s life is a small thing when compared to God''s plan for mankind.¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t it say in the Bible that whoever saves one life saves the whole world?¡±


    ¡°That''s the Qur¡¯an, and it¡¯s based originally on Jewish texts.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s what Christians believe too, isn¡¯t it?¡± There was no answer. ¡°Well,¡± continued Eddie. ¡°If you''re going to Hell, then I guess I am as well. Let''s make a deal, okay? When we get there we¡¯ll look out for each other, and then maybe Hell won''t be so bad.¡±


    Susan chuckled. It was a mocking, desperate laugh but it was something. ¡°I don''t think it works that way,¡± she said.


    ¡°Well, if it turns out that it does work that way, we''ll stick together. Watch out for each other, and if a demon tries to stick a pitchfork into one of our arses, the other will chase it off. Deal?¡±


    ¡°Hold still,¡± said Paul impatiently, ¡°or I¡¯ll be the one sticking a pitchfork up your arse. This glue takes a couple of hours to set, the spacesuit is supposed to be hanging motionless in the meantime. If you keep moving, the patch won¡¯t form a proper seal.¡±


    Eddie nodded, forgetting that Paul couldn''t see his face, and kept his attention on Susan. ¡°Deal?¡± he repeated.


    ¡°I suppose,¡± she replied, ¡°but you have a very simplistic idea of Hell. It¡¯s not devils with pitchforks, it¡¯s separation from God. All the human companionship in the world can''t compensate for that.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll just have to do the best we can for each other, won¡¯t we? So, deal?¡±


    ¡°Fine, if It¡¯ll make you happy.¡± The cabin lights were shining in through her visor and Eddie was relieved to see her give a weak smile.


    ¡°Now, start thinking what you''re going to say when they ask you to make speeches. When you''re a hero, the woman who fixed the Long March. One of the people who saved millions of lives...¡±


    ¡°Hero?¡± said Susan. ¡°I''ll be the most hated person on Earth! I¡¯ll be going to prison for sabotage, attempted murder... They may just hang me from the nearest tree.¡±


    ¡°Of course they won''t,¡± replied Eddie. ¡°You''re just being silly...¡±


    ¡°I tried to kill you! You think they''re going to just ignore that fact?¡±


    ¡°Maybe...¡± Eddie hesitated as he considered possibilities. ¡°Maybe they don''t have to know. I mean, nobody except the four of us knows what happened. Suppose we just... Just didn''t tell anyone?¡±


    Susan actually laughed. ¡°You think that''ll work? What about the damage to your spacesuit? The mass amplifier? How are you going to explain that?¡±


    ¡°She''s right, Eddie,¡± said Paul, pressing a patch onto his back between the shoulder blades. He smoothed it into place to make sure there were no gaps where air could escape. ¡°Anyone with any technical knowledge will see immediately what happened. There''s no keeping it secret.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe we can persuade them to join us in a little deception. The Americans will want an American hero, after all. They won''t be happy with the world being saved by two Englishmen and a Swede. They''ll want to be able to tell the world that there was an American up here as well. The Americans will resist any suggestion that you''re in any way less than perfect, and they''ve still got enough clout to persuade other countries to go along with them. I think they¡¯ll go along with it, on the condition that you never go into space again.¡±


    ¡°That suits me,¡± said Susan earnestly.


    ¡°What do you think, Paul, Benny? Think we can pull it off?¡±


    ¡°I think we should definitely try,¡± said Paul. He gave Eddie¡¯s back one final pat, then moved around him to where he could see Susan. ¡°You''re one of us, and we''re with you no matter what. You weren''t responsible for what happened. I knew you were stressed out. I should have supported you more...¡±


    ¡°I acted out of my faith, not because I was stressed out. I believed in what I was doing.¡±


    ¡°Do you regret saving me?¡± asked Eddie, watching her carefully.


    ¡°No, of course not! I... It''s complicated. I knew what I was supposed to do, I was just too weak to do it. It wasn''t because I was stressed, though. I''m not crazy.¡±


    Eddie had his own opinion on that, but he still felt he owed her a debt and was determined to defend her in any way he could. ¡°Well, whatever,¡± he said. ¡°What about you, Benny? Are you in?¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± the Swede replied. ¡°Susan is one of us. A valued and well respected colleague.¡±


    ¡°That''s decided then,¡± said Eddie. ¡°We tell the truth to the authorities, there¡¯s no hiding it from them, but we perpetrate a little deception with everyone else. I''m sure the authorities will go along with it. If you feel the need to tell the truth to your own families, make sure they don¡¯t spread it any further. Agreed?¡±


    ¡°Agreed,¡± said Paul and Benny together.


    ¡°There, you see?¡± said Eddie to Susan. ¡°No prison. You¡¯ll be a hero for a while, giving speeches, shaking hands, and then you go home to your own family. Happy ever after.¡±


    ¡°God knows the truth,¡± she said morosely. ¡°It''s easy for you, you don''t believe in Him, but I know He exists. I know! And He knows what I did, that I allowed His plan to be ruined.¡±


    ¡°If His plan can be ruined so easily, He can¡¯t be much of a God. I think His plan is going very nicely, so stop worrying about it. I think that, if He does exist and you meet Him one day, He''ll have some nice things to say to you.¡±


    Susan smiled back at him but looked unconvinced.


    ¡°Stand ready to turn the mass amplifier back on,¡± said Benny. ¡°We''ve still got a moon to get back into orbit, remember? Thirty seconds.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Eddie sat back down in his seat, being careful not to dislodge the patch, and put his hand on the switch. ¡°Ready,¡± he said. Paul gave Susan''s shoulder a pat and returned to his own seat. Eddie saw her testing the zip ties holding her arms by her sides and heard her give a sigh of resignation.


    It took another half an hour to finish the operation. They went through five more cycles of pulling the moon with the mass dampener turned on and then letting the moon begin to pull itself together again. Each time the moon grew hotter, the vast globe of magma turning from orange to yellow to an incandescent white. When they turned the mass dampener off for the last time he thought the moon must be close to turning into a globe of vapour. Its atmosphere was visibly thicker when they were finished, and composed of heavy elements as well as the usual volcanic gases. Eddie thought it quite likely that it was raining glass down there, under the thick clouds that once again began to hide the surface from sight.


    ¡°If the computer is right,¡± said Benny, ¡°and it¡¯s not often wrong about such things, we have succeeded in returning the moon to its proper orbit.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said Paul wearily. ¡°Detach the tether, please, and then let''s put some safe distance between us and that nightmare behind us.¡±


    Benny nodded and touched some controls on the central touch screen. They heard a thunk as an explosive bolt fired and Eddie imagined the tether dropping away to fall to the surface of the crustal fragment. They then turned on the mass dampener on the Long March rocket one last time while the shuttle left the moon behind, and when they''d built up enough speed to be out of reach of the moon''s gravity they shut it down for the last time.


    Benny then lifted the safety cover from a button far to the side of the cockpit and pressed it firmly. It sent a signal to the Long March rocket, telling the mass dampener to shut itself down permanently. It could not be reactivated now unless they went back to it and physically rewired the machinery. ¡°We need your home made gadget to be a mass dampener again, Eddie,¡± Benny then said. ¡°As quick as you can, please.¡±


    Eddie nodded and detached the device from the bulkhead. He picked it up, placed it on his lap and opened the cover. ¡°Won''t be easy wearing these bloody spacesuit gloves,¡± he said, ¡°but I think I can do it. Give me ten minutes.¡±


    Paul, meanwhile, was watching the crustal fragment shrink behind them in one of the cockpit screens as it fell back to the main body of the moon. ¡°When that hits,¡± he said, ¡°I hope nobody down on Earth is watching with unprotected eyes. It''s going to be brighter than the sun.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure all the media outlets are warning them,¡± replied Benny. ¡°And the moon was already bright before the clouds closed in again. They''ll know what to expect.¡±


    ¡°Do they though? Do they really know what happens when a thousand kilometre wide chunk of solid rock hits a ball of molten rock three thousand kilometres across? Does anyone? I wouldn''t be surprised if there are thousands of cases of permanent eye damage down there. I just hope my family''s safely indoors. Just being out under the open sky might be dangerous.¡±


    ¡°The authorities are looking after them, just like all our families,¡± replied Benny. ¡°They¡¯ll see no harm comes to them.¡±


    Paul nodded, still looking worried. ¡°Okay then,¡± he said. ¡°Eddie, I think we can release Susan now. Any mischief she gets up to now will only affect the four of us, and I didn¡¯t think she¡¯s got any interest in doing that. Right, Susan?¡±


    ¡°I just wanted to preserve God¡¯s plan,¡± she replied. ¡°I have no interest in hurting any of you just for the sake of it. I give you my word that I won''t try to sabotage anything any more.¡±


    Paul nodded. ¡°Good enough for me,¡± he said. ¡°Cut her loose, Eddie.¡±


    Eddie nodded and reached out with a pair of wire cutters from his tool belt. He cut the nearest arm free, then handed her the wire cutters so she could do the other arm herself.


    ¡°Right then Benny,¡± Paul then said. ¡°Let''s go home.¡±


    Benny nodded and began programming the navigation computer.

 Chapter Forty Five

    The sun shone down out of a clear, blue Chinese sky.


    On the other side of the sky Margaret saw another sun shining down. Not quite as bright, she thought. A glowing yellow, and its face criss crossed by geometric patterns of black lines like the frame of a geodesic dome, visible to anyone in the patiently waiting crowd willing to stare up into its face until their eyes started watering. A man on the morning news had said that the black lines were clouds of water vapour, silhouetted against the glowing bright lava below, visible now that the thick clouds of dust had settled.


    The water had once been ice, the same man on the telly had said. Before the Scatter Cloud hit, there had been ice hidden in perpetually shadowed craters at the moon¡¯s poles, delivered to the moon over billions of years by comets. That water had been boiled away to vapour as the moon melted, and had been carried up to high altitudes by the convection cells that now characterised the moon¡¯s weather now that the supersonic winds had ceased. As the air rose it cooled until the water condensed out into fluffy clouds that were carried to the boundaries between neighbouring convection cells. The scientists said that the water wouldn¡¯t last long, unfortunately. Sunlight would break it apart into hydrogen and oxygen, the hydrogen lost to space and the oxygen binding with elements in the lava, but the moon would have clouds, and the occasional light showers of rain, for generations to come.


    The small crowd of people stared up into the sky. Most of them were waiting silently but some chatted in low voices to their neighbours, asking them in worried tones if the delay might be caused by some last minute problem. No, the neighbours replied. There¡¯s time yet. Don¡¯t worry. Reporters circulated amongst them, looking for someone willing to give an interview. They were speaking in front of robot cameras that kept adjusting their position to keep their owners centred in the field of view. Once, there would have been satellite uplinks to take their words straight to a distant studio, but there were virtually no satellites any more, and wouldn¡¯t be for some time. People talked about launching more, but the world¡¯s economy had been hit hard by the perigee and would be hit even harder in years to come as the after effects began to manifest themselves.


    Qamdo Bamda was a wide, flat and empty district of China. It was technically a valley in the Himalayas, but the nearest mountains were too far away to be seen and the horizon was as flat as if they were in the middle of Kansas. Margaret pulled her coat tighter around herself and shivered in the cold air, occasionally taking her eyes off the sky to watch the soldiers standing around the airport. The airport with the longest runway in the world, they said. Nearly ten kilometres long and fifty metres wide. It was the runway the Chinese used to land space shuttles on, which was the reason they were all here today. Paul was coming home! The space station was being left empty as all the remaining astronauts returned to Earth.


    Richard took a step closer to stand beside her. ¡°You okay?¡± he said.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°Just cold. I should have brought a thicker coat.¡±


    Richard began to take off his coat but she stopped him. ¡°No, I''m fine,¡± she said. ¡°I shouldn''t be cold, anyway. Not with two suns in the sky now.¡±


    ¡°Some people say they can actually feel its heat on their faces,¡± said Richard. ¡°The scientists may say that it¡¯s measurable at the Earth¡¯s surface, but I think anyone who claims to be able to actually feel it is fooling themselves. I certainly can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Nor me,¡± said Cathy, Timmy cradled in her arms. ¡°Perhaps next time they''ll land somewhere a little warmer. Bermuda, perhaps.¡±


    ¡°There probably won''t be a next time,¡± said Richard. ¡°Not in our lifetimes, anyway. The whole world will be hunkering down to wait out the volcanic winter.¡± He gave a cynical laugh. ¡°All the smug people who¡¯ve been congratulating themselves on living far from the coast, away from the flooding, are the very people who¡¯ll be hit the hardest as the world freezes. The stampede away from the coast will reverse itself as people flee the frozen hearts of the large continents.¡±


    Len nodded. ¡°We were among the countries hardest hit by the perigee,¡± he said, ¡°but we''ll be one of the best places to ride out the freeze. We¡¯ve got the gulf stream. Nowhere in Britain is far from the coast.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯ll really be ten years, like they said?¡± asked Margaret.


    ¡°They''re the experts. How would I know?¡± He looked up at the moon again. ¡°Be funny if heat from the moon actually helps us cope with the freeze that the moon is causing, though.¡±


    ¡°Either way, it will be a long time before anyone''s launching any more space shuttles,¡± said Richard. ¡°They say they''re going to de-orbit the space station. They can''t take the risk that it might come down on someone''s head one day.¡±


    ¡°Who are those people over there?¡± asked Hazel, nodding her head towards another small group standing a short distance away. They didn''t look like a family, like the other families standing around the airfield waiting for a relative on the approaching shuttle. They were all different races and nationalities, as if they were a group of work colleagues. They also had an academic look to them. The look shared by those who spent their lives in libraries, offices and laboratories, rarely emerging to feel the wind on their faces. The look was accentuated by the thick coats they were swaddled up in, as if cold was something that normally only happened to other people. One of them was sitting in a wheelchair, while another, a Japanese looking woman, had a young girl with her, holding her hand as she stared nervously around at all the strange people around her.


    ¡°No idea,¡± said Margaret ¡°Let''s not be strangers, though.¡± She started walking towards the other group and Richard hurried to keep up with her, as if afraid that they might start beating her about the head with the top of the range tablets they all seemed to be carrying.


    A reporter moved to cut her off, though, accompanied by the camera that strode beside him on its spindly metal legs. ¡°...and this, I believe, is Margaret Lewis, wife of Paul Lewis, commander of the moon mission. Mrs Lewis, you must be very eager see your husband again.¡±


    ¡°Yes, very,¡± said Margaret, sparing him a sideways glance. She tried to move past him but he moved to block her way.


    ¡°What are your thoughts on this historic occasion?¡±


    ¡°My mother doesn''t have time to talk at the moment,¡± said Richard, struggling hard to remain calm and polite. ¡°Please give us some space.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. This must have been an anxious few days for your whole family...¡±


    ¡°Please excuse us,¡± said Richard, pushing him bodily out of the way and holding him back as Margaret walked past. He then stood guard, preventing him from following after her. To his relief the reporter got the message and wandered off to talk to an Indian looking family, who seemed no more glad to see him than Margaret had been.


    The Japanese looking woman looked up from her tablet as Margaret approached. ¡°Excuse me,¡± said Margaret, smiling reassuringly. ¡°I''m Margaret Lewis. Paul Lewis¡¯s wife.¡±


    The Japanese looking woman smiled. ¡°Samantha,¡± she replied, holding out a hand. ¡°Samantha Kumiko. And this is Lily, my daughter.¡±


    Margaret shook the offered hand, then smiled down at the little girl. Lily smiled back. ¡°Please forgive my curiosity,¡± said Margaret, returning her attention to the mother. ¡°Are you related to someone on the shuttle?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m a colleague of Eddie Nash.¡± Out of the corner of her eye Margaret saw Richard¡¯s eyes roll towards the heavens. She suppressed a smile. ¡°Well, I say a colleague,¡± Samantha continued. ¡°I''ve never actually met him. We both joined the team in the past few days, and he¡¯d left to begin astronaut training before I arrived.¡±


    ¡°The team?¡± said Margaret. She saw the rest of her family drifting across to join them, and behind Samantha the rest of her group were also closing in. A moment later they were just one group, with people pairing off to chat and introduce themselves.


    ¡°The others helped to develop the mass dampener,¡± said Samantha. ¡°Especially Frank.¡± She indicated the thirty year old man who was introducing himself to Len. ¡°He''s our resident genius.¡±


    ¡°I thought the Chinese invented it,¡± said Margaret, frowning.


    Samantha suddenly looked uncomfortable and glanced away to the side. ¡°Yes, of course. I meant that we helped them. The others helped them, I mean. I only just joined the group, I¡¯m a moon expert really. I was, I mean. The moon I spent a lifetime studying no longer exists.¡±


    ¡°Well, now you''ve got a brand new world to study. A world unlike any other in the solar system. It must be like getting a glimpse of how the moon was born! How can you resist?¡±


    ¡°Quite easily, actually. You can¡¯t have any idea what it¡¯s like. I spent my whole life studying the moon. I was the world''s foremost authority. My daughter could name every crater, every mountain range. I thought she might go there one day. Become an astronaut, explore the moon. Actually walk in its surface. Become a member of a permanent moon base. Now all those dreams are ended. All my knowledge is obsolete. I''ll probably get some other job, just to pay the bills. Teach, perhaps.¡±


    ¡°Someone''s going to study the moon, become an expert on what it is now. Why not you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mummy!¡± said Lily, looking up at her. ¡°Why not you?¡±


    ¡°We''ll see,¡± said Samantha back down to her. ¡°We''ll see how I feel.¡±


    ¡°When I grow up, I''m going to be the world¡¯s greatest expert on the moon,¡± said Lily solemnly. ¡°They¡¯ll build a city floating high in the atmosphere, like Venus City in Davey Crockett in Space, King of the Final Frontier, and I''m going to live there.¡±


    ¡°She loves those old Sci Fi series,¡± said Samantha with a smile. ¡°I have to keep telling her that it''s just fantasy, that it won''t be like that.¡±


    ¡°You told me there would be cloud cities on Venus one day!¡± Lily insisted indignantly. ¡°You said so!¡±


    ¡°One day perhaps, but not for a long, long time.¡±


    ¡°But what about the moon? Venus is a hundred million klicks away, but the moon¡¯s right there!¡± Lily pointed up at the glowing, yellow orb in the sky. ¡°Someone¡¯s going to study the moon. Why not me?¡±


    ¡°You know, I think she might do it,¡± said Margaret, smiling. ¡°She''s clearly bright, determined. Who''s going to stop her? By the time she¡¯s grown up the world should be just about recovering  from the angry moon, and now that it''s really been brought home to people just how fragile the Earth is there might well be a determined effort to establish a permanent presence in space. Get our eggs into several baskets instead of just one.¡±


    ¡°Who knows?¡± Samantha conceded reluctantly. ¡°If that''s still what she really wants when she gets out of school, I certainly won''t stop her.¡±


    ¡î¡î¡î


    ¡°You created the mass dampener?¡± said Len in astonishment.


    Frank realised he¡¯d said too much and backpedalled furiously. ¡°Well, nothing in science is ever the result of just one person. People all over the world were involved, and the Chinese were, still are I mean, one of the biggest partners. They certainly deserve the credit they¡¯re giving themselves.¡± And nobody must know about the alien spacecraft, he thought. No-one must ever find out where we really got the mass dampener. Wetherby must receive as little attention as possible.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°It''s a really gigantic leap, though, isn''t it?¡± said Len in amazement. ¡°I mean, one sudden breakthrough in science and suddenly mankind has the ability to rearrange the solar system! And look at the moon!¡± The moon was drifting behind a thin cloud, but it was so bright that it could still be seen through it. ¡°If a device small enough to fit on a rocket can do that to the moon, just imagine what it could do to the Earth if it fell into the wrong hands.¡±


    ¡°That''s why the soldiers are here,¡± replied Frank, nodding his head towards the nearest of them. Most of the soldiers were Chinese, but there were also Americans, Europeans and British army soldiers, all keeping by and large to their own groups but keeping at least one eye on the scientists at all times. ¡°To make sure we don''t get kidnapped by the bad guys.¡±


    ¡°I''m not sure if I''d find that reassuring or oppressive. On the one hand, your kids will be the safest in the world, but on the other...¡±


    ¡°No privacy ever again,¡± replied the scientist. ¡°And it gets worse.¡± He lifted the lapel of his coat to reveal a tiny microphone. ¡°They''re listening to everything I say, all of us, to make sure we don¡¯t reveal the secrets of the mass dampener to you, or to anyone. Everything I say for the rest of my life will be listened to by agents, even when I''m with a woman. What¡¯s more, if they get the idea that I''m about to be successfully kidnapped...¡± He indicated the airport¡¯s control tower. ¡°There''s a sniper up there with a rifle aimed right at my head. Several snipers, in fact. One for each of us. We''re all going to have guns aimed at our heads for the rest of our lives.¡±


    Len laughed until the expression on the other man''s face told him he was being serious. ¡°Shit!¡± he said. He turned to look at the control tower, almost directly behind him as he faced the scientist, and Frank smiled ruefully as the other man edged a little to the side. He suddenly looked anxious, as if fighting a powerful urge to collect the other members of his group and get them a safe distance from the scientists as fast as possible.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Frank. ¡°I''m not complaining, though. All you''ve got to do is look up at the moon to see the power of this new technology. Mankind has to be protected, and if we have to sacrifice some freedoms to do that, then it¡¯s a small price to pay.


    ¡°So are they going to be watching us as well?¡± asked Len in alarm. ¡°Me and my family?¡±


    ¡°Probably not the sniper, but they¡¯ll be worried that Paul might have learned something about the device while out of radio range of the Earth, and that he might pass it on to you. Maybe some tiny detail that he doesn¡¯t think is important but that might make the difference to someone trying to replicate the device. They¡¯ll advise him not to discuss anything with you, of course, but I would imagine they¡¯ll be watching and listening as well.¡±


    ¡°But none of us has that kind of technical knowledge. I''m an architect. Richard''s an executive with an advertising agency. You could hand us the blueprints and we wouldn¡¯t know what to do with them.¡±


    ¡°They might be afraid that you might learn, or your children, or you might pass the information on to someone who knows what to do with it. Pandora''s box has been opened. They can''t close it again, but they can try to keep the knowledge from spreading any further than it already has.¡±


    ¡°But we have rights! We have the right to our privacy! They can''t do this!¡±


    In answer, Frank nodded his head upwards to the moon again. ¡°At first, we had no idea what we had,¡± he said. ¡°We treated it like a toy. We even carried a prototype around the world with only a couple of hired security men to look after it. When I think back on that now... The mass dampener is a truly nightmarish device! I wish now that we''d never discovered, er, invented it. Sure, the moon would still be causing mayhem every twenty nine days, but that might be nothing compared to what the mass dampener might do to our world. In my darkest dreams, I can see government men rounding up everyone who knows even the smallest thing about the device and having them confined underground for the rest of their lives. Jessica and Stuart have children. Three and four years old, plus a baby, and James has a fourteen year old kid. I can only imagine what they¡¯re going through right now.¡±


    Frank''s eyes followed Len''s as the other man looked at the people he''d mentioned. They seemed happy enough at the moment, chatting with Richard and Hazel, but there was an unsettled look to them that probably wouldn''t have been evident to someone who didn''t know to look for it. Frank imagined he had the very same look himself.


    ¡°Do you have children, may I ask?¡± said Frank.


    ¡°Not yet, but one day, I hope. How many generations will get this kind of attention? Our children, if me and Hazel have any? What about our grandchildren? Their children? Suppose they get the idea that the mass dampener has become some kind of family secret, passed down the generations? What if they decide that we just can''t be trusted, that allowing us to run around loose is just too great a risk to take?¡± Len ran a trembling hand through his hair. ¡°I can imagine some junior official making a cold blooded calculation. On the one hand, the rights and freedoms that we take for granted, and on the other the risk that some insane terrorist might get his hands on this device and use it to hold the world to ransom. Perhaps destroying a city just to prove a point with a device that fits in his pocket. Faced with that kind of threat, can you really be sure the government wouldn¡¯t do something terrible? How great does the threat have to be before they decide that civilised values are a luxury they just can''t afford any more?¡± He was backing away from the scientist now and glancing around for the rest of his family. ¡°Hazel! Come here please, Hazel!¡±


    Hazel was chatting animatedly with Stuart and Jessica, while Karen and Ben stood by listening, and Len had to call her a couple of times more before she looked up and went over to see what her husband wanted. Len just grabbed her by the elbow and steered her away from the group of scientists. He called out to Margaret and Richard and beckoned for them to follow him as well. He looked back at Frank, looking guilty and ashamed, but the scientist just nodded his understanding. ¡°Len!¡± said Hazel angrily. ¡°What''s gotten into you?¡±


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got leprosy,¡± said Ben as Frank went back to rejoin the other scientists. ¡°I suppose this is something we''re going to have to get used to.¡±


    ¡°We can''t blame them,¡± said Alice. ¡°To be honest, I''m surprised they let us come here. I thought they might keep us confined to the laboratory. Keep us from interacting with anyone else at all.¡±


    ¡°Something rather disturbing occurred to me just a couple of minutes ago,¡± said James, driving his wheelchair a little closer so he could lower his voice. ¡°When the shuttle lands, pretty much everyone who knows how to build a mass dampener will be here, on this airfield. Us, Eddie... Everyone who can build an actual, functioning mass dampener is, or soon will be, right here, in the middle of a totalitarian country where we can quietly disappear without trace...¡±


    "You''re forgetting the American and Chinese research teams," Alice reminded him. "They''ve both built their own prototypes."


    "Yes, that''s right," said James, "but the Chinese teams can be quietly disappeared and there''s not much the CIA won''t do in the name of national security."


    ¡°I think you''re being a little paranoid, James,¡± said Stuart, but he frowned as he said it and Frank could see he was thinking of his children, being looked after by relatives back in England. Frank saw him wondering if he would ever see them again. ¡°Look,¡± Stuart added, indicating the crowd milling around them. ¡°Relatives, reporters... Are the Chinese going to disappear all of them?¡±


    ¡°No satellites,¡± mused Frank unhappily. ¡°None of us has any reliable way of contacting anyone back home. We''re totally reliant on the airfield WiFi, which the Chinese can cut off at any time...¡±


    The disturbing speculation was cut off as someone in the crowd gave a cry of delight. ¡°It''s coming!¡± he said, holding his phone up to show the others. ¡°The air traffic controllers say it''s coming!¡±


    Conversations were cut short as everyone stared up into the bright sky. The reporters spoke frantically into their cameras and the soldiers tensed up, glancing in all directions as they searched for threats. Then someone cried out and pointed. The others looked, and after a few moments of squinting into the bright sky, shading their eyes with their hands, they saw three tiny dark specks, far off and low to the horizon beyond the far end of the runway. The shuttle and two Chinese fighters, escorting it in. The shuttle, the Chinese Jinlong, appeared to be frozen in the sky, barely moving, which, Frank hoped, presaged a more comfortable landing than the landing of the European shuttle on the moon had been.


    The two fighters peeled off as the ground grew closer and the shuttle came in alone, gradually revealing itself to be a delta winged shape, similar in appearance to the ancient American space shuttle except for its rear end where it had been launched on top of two booster stages. They had also had wings, which had landed under their own power after separating from the orbiter.


    The crowd watched, enraptured, many of them through binoculars, as the shuttle came in steeply, its nose sharply angled upwards and its undercarriage unfolding and locking into position. The moment its rear wheels touched the ground at the far end of the runway, a parachute unfurled behind it, snapping open as it caught the wind. The crowd surged forward as the shuttle appeared to creep towards them, its great speed almost imperceptible from this distance. The Chinese soldiers formed a line to stop them, brandishing their weapons but in a way that showed they had no intention of actually using them. The crowd pressed forward as close as they could and then strained their eyes to watch as the shuttle slowed and dropped down onto its front wheels. A cluster of vehicles emerged from a hanger and began chasing it towards the spot where it would eventually stop, close to where the crowd was standing.


    By the time it finally drew close it was trundling slowly along the runway, the pilot seeming content for it to come to a halt on its own without bothering with the brakes, or perhaps he¡¯d seen the crowd, recognised relatives and wanted to end up as close to them as possible. The soldiers were keeping the crowd penned in, though, and wouldn¡¯t let them any closer. The chase vehicles, including three ambulances and a fire engine, closed around the shuttle as it finally came to a halt and two of them, tankers of some kind, parked themselves on either side of its nose.


    ¡°We might as well make ourselves comfortable,¡± said Ben, unfolding a shooting stick and sitting on it. ¡°The crew won''t be coming out any time soon.  Maybe not for half an hour. And when they do they¡¯ll be bundled straight into the ambulances. We might only get a brief glimpse of Eddie as they carry him away. I don''t know what we''re doing here, really. We might as well wait until we can visit him in the hospital.¡±


    ¡°Of course we''ve got to be here!¡± said Karen, giving him a pitying look. ¡°Eddie needs to see us when he comes out. Know we''re here for him. Who knows how long he''ll be decompressing, stuck in that tiny chamber all by himself. Seeing us here will pick his spirits up no end.¡± Ben nodded his agreement, and so they waited.


    Engineers and technicians surrounded the shuttle, inspecting it from every angle. A pair of stair trucks were driven up against it so that another pair of engineers could examine the engines from up close. The reporters continued their running commentary, and Frank saw one of them make yet another attempt to talk to Margaret Lewis. Her son stood protectively between them and answered the reporters questions with monosyllables until he grew bored and drifted away to talk to an elderly Swedish couple standing nearby.


    Finally, the nose of the shuttle opened like the petals of a flower revealing the outer airlock door. One of the stair trucks drove up to it and two men climbed up to open the door from the outside. They went inside, and a few moments later they emerged supporting one of the astronauts between them, still dressed in a full spacesuit including a helmet with its visor closed.


    ¡°There he is!¡± cried Alice, pushing her way to the front of the crowd and waving her arms wildly. ¡°Eddie! Eddie!¡±


    ¡°I don''t think he can hear you,¡± said Frank as the others gathered around her.


    ¡°He can see us,¡± replied Alice. ¡°He can see us waving.¡± She continued to wave, and the man in the spacesuit waved back. ¡°See? He can see us!¡±


    ¡°Eddie Nash is emerging,¡± they heard one of the reporters saying, somewhere nearby. ¡°Still trapped in his spacesuit by a faulty air tank. He''s been breathing pressurised air for three days and so cannot remove his spacesuit until he¡¯s gone through decompression, like a deep sea diver returning to the surface. You can be sure he¡¯ll be receiving a hero¡¯s welcome as soon as he can breathe Earth air again. Wait, another astronaut is emerging...¡±


    A female figure was standing in the airlock, dressed in normal clothing and carrying a small box. A squad of US marines was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, and one of them took the box from her. He opened it and studied the contents for a few moments, then closed it again, the box locking with an audible snap. Then the soldiers hurried off with it to where a fleet of army trucks was waiting. The woman watched as the trucks drove away towards the exit from the air base, but then she appeared to lose interest in them and hurried after Eddie, tottering unsteadily on her weak legs as her hair blew in the wind. Two men came forward to support her, taking an arm each, and they helped her to a wheelchair. Eddie had stopped where he was and had turned, waiting for her.


    ¡°Astronaut Susan Kendall,¡± said the reporter. ¡°The only American crew member. She seems to have formed an attachment to Eddie Nash...¡±


    ¡°You dog, Eddie!¡± said James in amusement. ¡°Go on, my son!¡±


    Ben scowled at him but said nothing. Susan, meanwhile, had joined Eddie and the two of them got into the ambulance together. An orderly closed the door and the ambulance drove off towards the nearest hospital.


    The two men had climbed the steps again, meanwhile, and were helping the next astronaut. He waved at the crowd as they helped him carefully down the stairs. ¡°Paul Lewis has emerged from the shuttle,¡± they heard a reporter saying from somewhere nearby. ¡°Like Susan Kendall, he has spent nearly a full year in space, and so needs time to acclimatise himself to the Earth¡¯s gravity. He''ll be spending the next few weeks at the... Wait! A woman has forced her way past the soldiers and is running towards him...¡±


    It was Margaret, Frank saw. For a moment, it looked as though the Chinese soldiers were going to chase after her, but their commanding officer barked an order and they let her go. She ran the hundred metres between the crowd and the shuttle, and when Paul reached the foot of the stairs he waved for the men supporting him to back away a little. Margaret almost bowled him over when she reached him, and then she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight while, behind them, the whole crowd burst into wild cheering and thunderous applause.

 Epilogue One

    The astronauts were being interviewed on television again, Samantha saw the next morning as she awoke in the rather small Chinese hotel room. The apartment computer had sensed her stirring awake and had turned on the television for her. On it, Paul, Susan and Benny were sitting in padded couches, electrodes attached to their limbs to stimulate the recovery of their bones and muscles, while a crowd of reporters fired a barrage of questions at them. The screen was split to show another scene at the same time. Eddie, wearing shorts and a tee shirt, sitting in a cramped, tubular metal chamber. They were all hearing the same questions, it seemed, allowing all four of them to talk amongst themselves while answering. Samantha listened for a moment, in case they were saying anything interesting, then changed the channel to listen to some classical music.


    Lily was still asleep in the room''s other bed, but she stirred as she heard her mother in the bathroom. When Samantha emerged, teeth brushed and bodily wastes disposed of, Lily was playing with the room''s MiniVirt, the helmet still looking far too large for her small head. From the sound emerging from the speakers, it was the same game she''d liked to play in their old house. The server had apparently survived the angry moon and still had all her game progress on it.


    ¡°Bathroom, Lily!¡± said Samantha. ¡°Time to brush those teeth.¡±


    The little girl grumbled as she saved the game and took off the helmet. ¡°I don''t like China,¡± she said. ¡°The food tastes funny.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll be back in England in a day or two. You can put up with it that long.¡±


    ¡°Will we still be living with Uncle Stuart and Auntie Jessica?¡±


    ¡°For a little while, until we can get a house of our own again.¡±


    Now that the moon was back in its old orbit, everyone who''d fled the coast were moving back, salvaging what they could and evaluating whether their homes could still be lived in. Even where all the contents had been destroyed, it was generally thought that the basic structure of the house would still be good. Broken windows could be repaired, fences rebuilt and furniture replaced. The housing crisis that the country, and the world, had been facing was turning out to be much less severe than had been dreaded. It would take longer for farmland that had been contaminated by seawater to recover, but over several years the rain would wash the salt out of the ground, and in the meantime it turned out that there were quite a few crops that actually liked salt. Cabbage, cauliflower and beetroot were going to be on everyone¡¯s menu for a while. Along with rationing, it seemed that no-one would be starving in Britain after all, and most of the other developed countries were coping equally well. In Africa, not so much, but the usual charities and relief organisations were already rising to the challenge.


    Even better for Samantha had been the discovery that the insurance company would be paying out for the loss of their house. Most people whose houses had been destroyed were not so fortunate. The companies couldn''t pay them all without bankrupting themselves, but the Act of God clause meant that they were able to avoid liability for anything caused by the moon. Samantha''s house had been destroyed by arson, though, which was definitely covered, and the insurance companies were keen to pay out where they could to avoid becoming the most hated institutions in the world. They would make a big noise about the claims they could pay out on, and Samantha had even been offered a sizeable bonus if they could use her in their advertising campaigns. Samantha was suddenly quite well off, therefore, and as soon as the money actually arrived in her account she''d be able to afford a very nice property in a pleasant neighbourhood.Stolen novel; please report.


    The moon was shining in through the window, a disc of warm yellow. An expert on the television the evening before had said that it would be a hundred years before it cooled enough for a layer of solid crust to form. Samantha thought that was a pretty good estimate. Even then, though, the crust would be thin at first and constantly broken apart by currents in the underlying magma, with fragments pushed together and crumpling up to form embryonic mountain ranges. There would be volcanoes, lots of volcanoes, many of them large enough to be visible from Earth to the naked eye. Enough volcanoes for the moon to far surpass Io as the most volcanically active moon in the solar system for thousands of years to come. And then, as the moon continued to cool and shrink over the next few million years, the surface would wrinkle up to form a network of massive mountain ranges accompanied by moonquakes severe enough to make the entire world ring like a bell. All in all, the moon would be an active and exciting place for a long time to come, very likely for the entire existence of the human race.


    It would make the moon useless to mankind, of course. It would be impossible for mankind to live on the surface or mine it for resources. All the ambitious plans to use it as a stepping stone to the rest of the solar system lay in ruins. There was the water vapour in the atmosphere, of course. Water was valuable in space for all kinds of reasons, maybe valuable enough to be worth extracting it from the clouds of the moon. Maybe Lily would get her cloud city after all.


    When Lily emerged from the bathroom she headed straight back for the MiniVirt, but Samantha headed her off. ¡°Not so fast, young lady. When did you last have a bath?¡±


    ¡°Back in Uncle Stuart''s house,¡±


    ¡°That''s right, so get your butt back in there and get undressed, or nobody¡¯s going to want to be downwind of you.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going to live, Mummy?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I don''t know yet. Where would you like to live?¡±


    ¡°Tokyo!¡± sang the little girl. ¡°Where grandma lives!¡±


    Samantha''s heart sank. ¡°Tokyo¡¯s not there any more, Sweetie,¡± she said. ¡°It got hit by two earthquakes and two tsunamis. There''s... There''s not much of Tokyo left, I¡¯m afraid. One day there will be. They¡¯ll rebuild it and it¡¯ll be better than ever. Perhaps we can go live there then.¡±


    ¡°What happened to Grandma?¡± asked Lily anxiously.


    ¡°She''s fine, Sweetie. She''s living with Uncle Riko in Nagano. Perhaps we could live somewhere near there, so we could go visit, or we could stay right here in England. What would you prefer?¡±


    Lily¡¯s brow furrowed with furious thought. ¡°Nagano!¡± she said, doing a little hop.


    ¡°Okay, I''ll see what property prices are like over there. In the meantime, Bath!¡±


    Lily scurried off into the bathroom and after a couple of moments Samantha heard the water running. Then a naked Lily reappeared in the doorway. ¡°Aren''t you coming, Mummy?¡±


    Samantha hesitated. They''d always loved to bathe together, but the last time the little girl had seen her mother naked had been just after their escape from their burning house. Lily had been bound and gagged with duct tape and left to burn alive. Samantha was worried that seeing her naked again would bring back the memories of that terrible time. She''d resigned herself to never being able to share a bath with her little girl again, something else those three evil men had taken from them.


    ¡°You go ahead without me,¡± she said therefore. ¡°You''re getting too old to share a bath with me anymore. You''re getting to be a big girl now.¡±


    ¡°No I''m not,¡± cried Lily, trotting forward and taking her hand. ¡°Please, Mummy! I''m not too big yet! I''m not!¡±


    Samantha felt a great relief filling her. Lily hadn''t been traumatised by her ordeal. In fact, she seemed to think it had been a great adventure! Her fears that she might have been permanently scarred by it seemed to be unfounded.


    ¡°One day you''ll be too big,¡± she said.


    ¡°I know,¡± said Lily sadly, as if she''d been told that she would die one day. ¡°But not yet! Not yet, Mummy! Come on! Come on!"


    She pulled at Samantha''s hand, dragging her towards the bathroom, and with a laugh of joy and relief Samantha gave in.

 Epilogue Two

    It was thirty years later.


    Samantha was escorted to the VIP viewing gallery by a charming young Italian man with a sexy accent. Three rows of padded chairs had been arranged on a raised platform with a canopy fluttering in the light breeze to shield them from the afternoon summer sun. Most of the other guests had already arrived. Politicians, celebrities, sportsmen, most of whom she only knew from television appearances, but as she threaded past them to find her seat she found to her delight that she''d been seated next to people she knew. Eddie Nash, now looking dignified and statesmanlike with his beard and grey hair, his wife, Susan, and the younger of their two children; twenty two year old Philip. All looking very smart in their expensive clothes. Eddie called out her name in greeting when he saw her, and the three of them stood while she seated herself.


    ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± said Eddie jovially. ¡°We were worried you weren''t going to make it.¡±


    ¡°My flight had to divert to Rome to avoid some bad weather,¡± said Samantha, still feeling annoyed about it as she smoothed out her long, blue dress. ¡°The hire car drove me at breakneck speed. It must have had special permission to violate the speed limits, but I still missed Lily being taken out to the launch pad. I heard it on the radio commentary.¡±


    She gazed out at the spaceship standing on the horizon three miles away. The Tycho Brahe. It looked like no other rocket that had ever been launched, or even imagined. The payload was huge, nearly ten thousand tons. A great white cylinder the size of an office block studded with windows, docking ports and other structures. An entire space station being launched all in one go by rocket stages that, while among the largest ever made by man, looked ridiculously small in comparison, like a marrow balanced on a pencil.


    ¡°So she¡¯s inside?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes, we saw them walking to the bus. They all waved to the crowds when their names were called by the loudspeaker, and your daughter has that special way of waving, distinctive even in a spacesuit.¡±


    Samantha smiled sadly. She''d promised herself she''d be here. She''d promised Lily. She wondered whether her daughter had looked up at the VIP gallery looking for her, and what sad thoughts had gone through her mind when she hadn''t seen her. She brightened at the thought that she''d be able to talk to her after the launch. She''d be able to explain and apologise, and Lily would understand. On the other hand, maybe Lily hadn''t given her mother a thought. This was the pinnacle of her career, after all. The culmination of years spent studying and training. Her head was probably full of things she had to do and remember during the launch and after their arrival in orbit in preparation for their transfer to lunar orbit. It had probably never occurred to her to see if her mother was among the spectators. She sighed. It was a nice thought but she knew it was a fantasy. Lily had looked, and had seen that she wasn''t there. She would have known that she would have been there if she possibly could, so maybe she was worrying that something dreadful had happened to her. Hopefully, the worry wouldn''t distract her at a critical moment.


    She took her phone from her pocket and started the ESA app, going through the menus until she found the life feed from crew launch cabin two. There was Lily, sitting in the second row among forty nine other astronauts and scientists, all wearing their helmets but with the visors open. There were fifty more in launch cabin one and the pilot, co-pilot and three engineers in the cockpit. The first time in history that so many people had been launched together. She didn''t care about history, though. She only cared about Lily, and she just stared at her for some minutes, reassuring herself that she was safe, so far, and wishing that her daughter could see her.


    She put the thought out of her mind with an effort. ¡°So this is Philip,¡± she said, holding out her hand. He shook it with a smile. ¡°I''ve heard so much about you.¡±


    ¡°It''s all lies,¡± he replied earnestly. ¡°It was my evil twin.¡±


    Samantha laughed. ¡°I hear you''re following your father into exotic materials research. Maybe you¡¯ll be the one who finally cracks coherent matter.¡±


    ¡°I think we''re still a few generations away from that,¡± the young man replied. ¡°Most of what we learn just tells us how insanely impossible it is, but the aliens...¡± He gave a start as he realised there were people within earshot who weren''t cleared to know about the alien spacecraft. Fortunately, they all seemed too engrossed in their own conversations to have overheard. He continued in a lower voice. ¡°We know that coherent matter is possible, and that¡¯s ninety percent of the way to actually figuring out how to create the stuff. We''ll get there one day.¡±


    Samantha nodded. ¡°So, any young ladies in your life yet?¡±


    Philip looked embarrassed. ¡°Nobody special,¡± he said. ¡°They tend to get a little put off by them.¡±


    He nodded his head towards the dark suited EDOC agents standing at the back of the raised gallery. Their ¡®bodyguards'', one of whose duties was to kill them if they thought their charges were about to be successfully kidnapped. Samantha gathered that Philip was as much under their ¡®protection¡¯ as his parents. They must be worried that they¡¯d told him the secrets of the mass dampener, even though they had both sworn never to do any work on the device again.


    ¡°And where''s your daughter?¡± Samantha asked Eddie. ¡°I thought she might be here as well.¡±


    "Jackie''s back in the United States," replied Susan, pride in her voice. "Her work''s at a critical stage, she says. She can''t get away from it, even for this."


    "The alien ion drive?" said Samantha. "I hear they''ve got their exhaust velocity up to half the speed of light."


    "That''s what they say," said Eddie. "Whether it''s true..."


    "You think they''re exaggerating?"


    "I think they, Europe and the Chinese are competing to be the first space superpower. The USA wants to raise the flag on every rock, every moon. Claim the whole solar system for democracy. The whispers I''ve heard..."  He looked around before continuing in a lower voice. "There''s talk of weaponising space. Rock launchers on asteroids to drop rocks on Earth. Even nukes in space. I just pray its nothing more than wild gossip. We really don''t want to go that way as a species."


    "We''ve spent a hundred years worrying about a nuclear war," said Samantha. "It hasn''t happened yet. Amazingly, the human race has so far turned out to have too much sense to blow itself up. It''ll go on being that way, you''ll see. Don''t you think, Susan?"


    "I think that God will end the world when it suits Him to do so. And when it happens, it won''t be the end but the beginning. That''s not what worries me."


    It was easy to see what it was that worried her as her eyes drifted, as if against her will, back to the dark suited men. Bodyguards working for EDOC. The Exotic Devices Oversight Committee was the international organisation responsible for keeping the mass dampener, and other devices deemed to be extraordinarily dangerous, from spreading beyond those people and nations that already possessed them. Samantha nodded to herself. There would be two more of them shadowing their daughter, back in the USA. Every day for the rest of her life. Ready to put a bullet in her brain if they thought someone might be about to get the secret of the mass dampener from her. Samantha saw Susan reach out towards Eddie, saw their hands clasp tightly. There was a fear there too deep for words, but Samantha could feel the strength of it. How could they live like this? she wondered. How could anyone?


    "We should have all stayed together, as a family." said Susan. "We should never have let her stay behind. We should never have gone back to the States in the first place. It''s my fault."This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "You wanted to go home," said Eddie gently. "It''s perfectly natural, and I agreed to it as much as you did. We shouldn''t have been surprised that she''d fall in love with the good old US of A and never want to leave. The pull of home can just be too strong to resist."


    ¡°Oklahoma was my home. It''s been buried under snow for the past thirty years.¡±


    "But the snow''s gone now," said Samantha. "It''s virgin country, just waiting for a new wave of settlers. It could be the start of a new golden age for the United States. The frontier spirit. Not just out there in space but right here on Earth as well. All the large continents are opening up again as the snow and ice melts. It could be a new age of adventure and opportunity..."


    A loud voice suddenly burst from the loudspeakers. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, the mission management team have just given their final go decision. The countdown has resumed at T minus nine minutes. If you look, you will see the access arm being retracted. The crew now cannot leave the spaceship except by triggering the abort system, in which case the two crew cabins and the cockpit will eject themselves from the rest of the spaceship and deploy parachutes in order to descend slowly to the ground.¡±


    A hubbub of conversation broke out from the stalls lined up along the perimeter of the launch field. Samantha tried to estimate how many people were gathered there. Thousands, certainly. All gathered to watch the launch of the first purpose built modified mass launch vehicle. The payload¡¯s mass reduced and the propellant¡¯s mass increased so that a small amount of fuel could launch a huge payload.


    ¡°I couldn''t believe it when I heard they were actually doing it,¡± said Eddie, frowning as he stared out at the huge spaceship. ¡°It''s bad enough that we know how to build mass dampeners without going ahead and actually doing it.¡±


    ¡°Lily told me it¡¯s impossible to steal it without stealing the whole spaceship,¡± replied Samantha. ¡°And even so, they''re taking no chances. There must be a whole army here, guarding it. I saw tanks out on the periphery, and I¡¯m pretty sure I saw anti aircraft missiles beside the airport buildings.¡±


    ¡°It would only take one man to sneak in and take a look at the device,¡± said Eddie, though. ¡°He could take a few photos to sell on the black market, maybe showing just enough to give some clever scientist the clues he needs to make one of his own. And then it''ll be out and that¡¯s when the whole world will go to hell.¡±


    ¡°It''s going to get out sooner or later,¡± said Susan. ¡°Technology always does. Look how hard they tried to keep the atom bomb secret. At least atom bombs need rare and expensive radioactive materials. If you can control the supply of uranium and plutonium you can keep atom bombs out of private hands. The mass dampener, though, can be built from stuff you can buy from any scientific equipment supplier. Pretty much every part has innocent uses.¡±


    ¡°All the more reason not to make it easier for them.¡± He waved a hand at the Tycho. ¡°That thing is a mistake! It should never have been made!¡±


    ¡°No, all the more reason why it should be made!¡± said Philip though. ¡°If there''s one thing the angry moon taught us, it''s that the Earth is much too small and fragile a basket for mankind to keep all its eggs in.¡±


    ¡°Robert A. Heinlein,¡± said Samantha.


    ¡°Right. We need to go out into space. We need to colonise the rest of the solar system, because it¡¯s only a matter of time before some lunatic gets hold of a mass dampener and tears this whole planet apart. It''s bad enough that so many governments already have it. There are too many religious nuts who believe that the world has to end before the Day of Judgement can come.¡± Susan gave him a sharp glance but said nothing.


    ¡°The spaceship has activated its own power units,¡± said the loudspeakers. ¡°The external power feeds have been disconnected. The astronauts have been instructed to lower their visors. The countdown is now at T minus five minutes.¡±


    ¡°There''s another reason we have to go back into space,¡± said Samantha. ¡°A reason why this ship, the first of its kind, is going to the moon. A reason why Lily¡¯s on board, the world''s foremost expert on the moon.¡± The others looked at her expectantly. ¡°The moon''s behaving strangely,¡± she said.


    ¡°Strangely how?¡± asked Eddie.


    ¡°It¡¯s cooling more slowly than expected, for one thing, as if there''s a source of heat somewhere inside. Also, it has no magnetic field. None at all.¡±


    All three members of the Nash family stared in surprise. They all had the education to know how strange that was. The moon didn''t have much iron in its core, but there was enough that all that churning, liquid metal should have been acting as a dynamo, generating a magnetic field, just as the molten iron in the Earth¡¯s core did.


    ¡°What could cause that?¡± asked Eddie.


    ¡°There''s only one thing we can think of,¡± said Samantha. ¡°The Scatter Cloud. The thing that knocked the moon out of its orbit in the first place. We still have no idea what it was made of. Just that it was millions of tiny particles, just a few millimetres across, each weighing thousands of tons and stable without any outside pressure needing to be exerted on it. Some kind of exotic matter unlike anything we¡¯ve ever seen, unlike anything predicted by even the most outlandish theory. All that strange matter is now sitting at the core of the moon. Almost five percent of the moon''s total mass. Who knows what¡¯s going on beneath the magma ocean? And who knows what it''ll mean for us?¡±


    ¡°What''s the worst case scenario?¡± asked Eddie, his eyes wide with fear.


    ¡°Worst case? We know that some of the Scatter Cloud material decayed into another form shortly after hitting the moon, releasing enough heat to melt the whole moon. Maybe the process isn''t over. Maybe it''s only just begun. Maybe the decay will continue to accelerate at a faster and faster rate until it culminates in an explosion big enough not only to blow the moon apart but take the Earth with it. That''s what we need to know, that''s why they''re going. They have to find out what¡¯s going on right at the heart of the moon, and whether it¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°All very well,¡± said Eddie. ¡°I agree with you, we need to know. I just wish they hadn¡¯t used a mass dampener to do it. I keep thinking of the aliens, wondering what happened to them.¡±


    ¡°They lived three hundred million years ago,¡± pointed out Samantha. ¡°For all we know, they lived for millions of years longer living happy, fulfilling lives until they eventually just faded away from boredom. Or maybe they''re still out there somewhere.¡±


    ¡°You think? They came here once. They never came back.¡±


    ¡°That we know of.¡±


    ¡°They used materials that last forever. The alien spaceship looks immaculate, as if it were made yesterday. Every nut, every screw, every empty baked bean can they ever used while here on Earth should still be around somewhere. Buried in a coal seam maybe, but in hundreds of years mining coal all we''ve found is the ship itself. If they''d come back, if they''d built cities, even if they''d just built a research outpost to study the local wildlife, there¡¯d have been something!¡±


    ¡°So you think their civilisation ended shortly after their ship crashed here? And you think it was something to do with the mass dampener?¡±


    ¡°All forms of technology are polluting in one way or another, either in their manufacture, the use to which they''re put or their eventual disposal. Why should the mass dampener be any different? I think it has a side effect, like burning coal caused acid rain and climate change, and I think it kicked them in the ass. And I think it''ll kick us in the ass too if we keep using it. The moon behaving strangely, maybe that¡¯s the beginning of it. Maybe it''s already too late even if we stop using it now.¡± He shook his head. ¡°The trouble is that we have no idea how it works. We don''t even have the beginnings of a theory! We think we know that energy comes and goes from some other dimension, and that¡¯s it. It''s crazy to use such a powerful device that we know absolutely nothing about, and our children or our grandchildren may curse us one day for our recklessness.¡±


    His words left the others feeling uncomfortable and a little nervous, but then the voice came over the loudspeaker again telling them that the main engines would be activated in thirty seconds. Samantha reached out and grabbed Eddie''s hand, squeezing tightly. To her, the spaceship had become an old style revolver held to her daughter''s head, one bullet somewhere in the cylinder. Her breathing grow faster and shallower and Eddie gave her hand a reassuring squeeze back. ¡°It''s going to be okay,¡± he told her. ¡°No rocket¡¯s gone wrong in fifty years. It''s a perfected technology. And even if it wasn''t, there are so many failsafes and emergency systems... Lily''s probably safer in there than we are here.¡±


    She stared at him, knowing he was right, but it didn''t help. Her hand was cold and clammy and her eyes were wide with fear.


    ¡°Main engine start in ten seconds,¡± said the loudspeaker. ¡°All systems green. Main engine ignition in five, four, three, two, one...¡±


    Smoke billowed from the base of the rocket and it rose with a speed that belied its size. All of a sudden it gave the impression of being far smaller and closer than they knew it was. It was a rather pitiful affair compared to the spectacular launches of the pre-mass modifying era, but Samantha''s hand still tightened painfully in Eddie''s grip as the huge spaceship gathered speed, rushing upwards and leaving a thin trail of smoke behind it. The four of them stared up at it as it shrank, until the rocket was too small to be seen and the payload looked like a toy balloon, tiny with distance, that some careless child had lost hold of.


    Conversations began again in the crowd, and the voice from the loudspeaker told those who were listening how high the spaceship was and how fast it was going. Samantha could only sit there, though, her thoughts and prayers following after her daughter as the spaceship got steadily smaller above them. Eventually, all that could be seen was a tiny gleam of sunlight reflected from the hull. A moment later even that vanished, leaving nothing but a cloudless blue sky in which the pillar of smoke the rocket had left behind was gradually being dispersed by the gathering wind.


    The End