c. 2026 Rod Ice
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(4-26)
Arbiter Goland Pick had been overwhelmed with his duties as supervisor and chief engineer, at the Toqua Platte Center in Calimex, ever since their Moon lander had launched. He was duty bound to oversee the mission, and achieve a yield of good results for those in charge of the coastal confederation. A cooperative republic, led by district governors who acted in concert with each other. But their journey to revive an abandoned station on the lunar surface was one rooted more in political ambition than science. Prime Keeper Lotharian Gardino had initiated the plan to unite all of their citizens, in a quest for global importance. He believed that establishing an outpost on the rocky orb would provide indisputable confirmation of their prominence as the largest of all surviving Terran civilizations. Yet while that gamble seemed to be founded on human nature itself, and a persistent desire for achievement, it stretched the limits of their technological capabilities.
The Mare Frigoris base was in poor condition, after a century of sitting empty. It needed a great deal more than a simple cleanup, and new coat of paint.
Serge Tarka was in charge of the exploration team. As a young and curious officer, he hoped to advance their understanding of the challenges involved with leaping from one stone to another, inside their solar system. Knowledge that had been lost with the Great Uprising. He knew that through a process of study and societal evolution, their enclave had already surpassed those in other regions on the continent. Now, they could attain a greater level of development and understanding, while strengthening their own position on the planet. But the risks involved were great.
As he trudged around what remained of the decommissioned facility, its state of disrepair dampened his spirit. He could not imagine beginning active operations at the site, without months of hard labor, and restocking supplies needed to survive.
“Toqua Platte, this is the Frigoris Lander. We have reached the shell of Luna Citadel. It’s not a pretty sight to see. There must have been raiders here after the last soldiers disembarked, because things are trashed. It would take some work just to get power for an artificial atmosphere, and livable conditions. I can’t guarantee that these walls won’t leak, if the environment is pressurized. There are loose wires and cables sticking out of panels in every greatroom and corridor. It’s a mess, to be blunt...”
Arbiter Pick nodded as if he had expected a sober assessment with little good news included.
“We guessed that things would be on that level, thank you for being honest. How much time would you estimate for a retrofit, and startup? “
Tarka nearly spit inside of his sealed helmet.
“STARTUP? I DON’T HAVE A CLUE, SIR! LET ME LIVESTREAM A VIDEO FEED, AND YOU TELL ME!”
The display at Toqua Platte glowed with images of neglect and disuse. There was little left to indicate that human entities had once occupied the station for extended periods of military service.
Goland palmed tiles on his control console. He knew that the Prime Keeper would have no desire to hear excuses. His only wish was to see the coastal empire flourish and prosper.
“Very well, start making a list of your needs regarding the revival operation. You can bring it to me, and I will have it submitted to the coastal governors. We have already been given priority status as a project of penultimate importance. There won’t be any debate over expending man-hours and rations.”
The team leader coughed into his wireless headset.
“We’re talking more than sore backs and aching muscles here, sir. This will be a test of our limits. We’ve never done anything on this level as a republic. It isn’t in our history. Just getting here in one piece was a quantum leap. I know you want to impress Lotharian Gardino, but my crew can only push the envelope so far!”
There was an audible gasp from the control nexus at Toqua Platte.
“Frigoris Lander, be aware that our communications are monitored! You are in danger of being charged with sedition. Please restrain yourself from expressing any notes of dissent.”
Serge felt a chill run over his skin, despite being protected by the armored space suit.
“Copy that, sir. Your instructions have been received and understood. I will have a list of requisitions in hand, when we return to Calimex. All glory to the PK, and our coastal federation!”
Their crude machinery took longer than expected to generate sufficient thrust for a smooth liftoff from the deserted base. But once the lander had cleared any geographical obstacles around their location, it was able to rendezvous with the crew capsule. A docking maneuver rejoined the halves into one, powerful craft.
Below their vessel, Planet Earth was blue and gorgeous against a background of perpetual emptiness.
Arbiter Pick locked on to the ship coordinates with their sensor array. At last, he was able to relax enough to slouch in his web chair.
“Frigoris Duo, we show you reconnected and heading home. Safe travels, gentlemen. We’ll be waiting for you by the Pacific Ocean.”
At Evergreen Estates, Judson Baines was near the spot where his Digger shuttle had been parked. A notification chirp sounded from his com-link. Upon checking the tiny screen, he saw that movement had once again been detected, in the vicinity of their celestial neighbor. A transport of some kind was on its way back from the dusty satellite. Its origin point lay at the spot designated by earlier scans of the lunar surface.
“I don’t know how they got up there in the first place. But now, they’re coming home, whoever they are... I hope they make it!”
Kelly Strafe was by his side, fiddling with components of a broken radio receiver.
“Part of me wishes we were going home, Juddy. Is that a bad thing to admit? I hope it doesn’t piss you off too much!”
Baines smiled with empathy. But stayed positive about their mission.
“Look around, Kells. This is our home now. Whatever we make of it, will be our future. It’s up to us get it right.”
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