Lunar day 216
Well after bedtime
Given where our conversation had left off, I was desperate to get back in touch with Zan and find out what danger lay in store for the earth. But I had no way to contact her. Zan only appeared to me when she wanted to and that was that. There was nothing I could do but wait for her to show up again.
In the meantime, the Sjobergs reported me to the moon-base commander.
That was Nina Stack, who was as tough and straitlaced as any person I’d ever met. Nina had come to NASA from the military and she still acted like she was in it. Behind her back, all the kids called her “Nina the Machina,” because she had the same range of emotions as a kitchen appliance: none.
She knocked on the door of our residence while my parents and I were getting ready for bed. Violet was already snoring in her sleep pod. We had set our wall-size SlimScreen to project a nighttime view of Hapuna Beach in Hawaii. We were from near there, on the Big Island, and it always made us feel like we were back home, rather than stuck in a tiny outpost on a barren rock floating in space.
Nina didn’t even say hello when Mom opened the door. That type of normal human interaction was alien to her. Instead she said, “I need to speak to Dashiell in my quarters.”
I had already informed my parents of everything that had happened that night. Everything that didn’t involve Zan, at least. “Dash should not get in trouble for this,” Mom told Nina. “He was protecting himself from Patton Sjoberg.”
“I’m not here to punish Dashiell,” Nina said flatly. While everyone else at MBA dressed casually in shorts and T-shirts, Nina always wore her official NASA flight suit. Even this late at night, it looked as though it had just been ironed. “However, I am required by NASA to get his statement as to what occurred in the space toilet incident.”
Mom opened the door wide and waved Nina inside. “Fine. Then you can do it right here.”
Nina remained on the catwalk outside our residence. “Rose, my orders are to get Dashiell’s statement, not yours or your husband’s. To prevent you from interfering, this really ought to be done in my quarters.”
Mom started to protest, but I cut her off. “It’s okay. I’ll go.” I turned off my e-book and headed for the door.
“This can’t wait until morning?” Dad asked. “It’s bedtime for all of us.”
“We have an extremely busy day tomorrow, so I’d prefer to get this done now,” Nina said. Without so much as a good-bye—or an apology for disturbing everyone so late—she turned away and led me down the catwalk to her residence.
This didn’t take long, as Nina lived right next door to us. All the residence doors at MBA have electronic sensor locks linked to our smartwatches. Nina waved her watch in front of the sensor pad and the dead bolt automatically slid open.
It was only the second time I had ever been in Nina’s quarters. The previous time had been a month before. Nothing had changed. Although Nina’s residence was larger than my entire family’s (or anyone else’s quarters, save for the Sjobergs’ “tourist suite”), she had almost nothing in it. Furniture was too big and bulky to haul much of it to the moon, so except for the standard bureau, SlimScreen table, and inflatable cubes that served as chairs, Nina’s only extra item was a spindly self-assembled desk. We had all been allowed to bring a few personal items to MBA, but Nina hadn’t bothered with any of those. Her SlimScreen wasn’t on, leaving only a blank gray wall. Even the view out Nina’s window was exactly the same as it had been before. Since there was no wind, rain, or any other type of weather on the moon, every speck of dirt was probably exactly where it had been not only a month earlier, but for the last hundred thousand years as well.
Nina sat on an InflatiCube on one side of her desk, then pointed me to the one on the other side. “Sit,” she said. Like I was a dog.
I sat anyhow, trying not to make waves. I wanted this to be over with as quickly as possible. The InflatiCube, being cheap plastic, made a farting noise as I put my weight on it. This happened a lot with those. Most people at MBA found this funny—Violet in particular—though Nina never found anything funny. I had never seen her laugh once in the four months we’d been on the moon.
“I’m revoking your communication privileges with earth,” she told me. “For the next two weeks, you will not be able to use the ComLinks for any purpose other than school.”
“What?” I asked. “I thought you said I wasn’t going to be punished!”
“Use of the ComLinks is a privilege, not a right,” Nina said robotically. “Therefore, temporary suspension of your privileges is not technically a punishment. . . .”
“It’s still not cool! I thought you said you were going to take my statement on the space toilet incident!”
“There’s no need for that. I have reviewed the security footage from the men’s bathroom and observed what happened.”
“I did that in self-defense!” I argued. “Patton was trying to strangle me!”
“The space toilet is not intended for use in self-defense,” Nina told me. “It is only designed for the hygienic disposal of human urine and feces. Should you have broken it, the fabrication, shipping, and installation of a replacement would have cost NASA over half a billion dollars.”
“Well then, the Sjobergs should pay for it. A half a billion dollars is petty cash to them.”
“This isn’t merely about the cost, Dashiell. There are only three toilets for all the men on this base. A reduction of those by a third could have severe consequences, especially given the unfortunate effects of some of our space food on everyone’s digestive tracts.”
She was probably talking about the chicken parmesan, which often sent us Moonies to the bathroom for extended periods of time. Sure, everyone could have avoided it, but it had already been shipped to MBA, and on the moon our options for dining out were limited. The nearest pizza delivery was 238,900 miles away.
“Are Patton and Lily losing their ComLink privileges too?” I asked. “Seeing as they were trying to beat me up?”
Nina broke eye contact with me for a second. “For the Sjobergs, the ComLinks aren’t a privilege. They paid for them, so usage is guaranteed.”
“Hold on,” I said. “They attacked me, but they get off free and clear, while I get punished for defending myself?”
“With the space toilet,” Nina reminded me. “You could have caused serious harm to Patton with that.”
“He was trying to cause serious harm to me! For no reason! What was I supposed to do, let him beat me up?”
Nina completely avoided answering the question. Instead she said, “I’m sure you’re aware that our relations with the Sjobergs have been strained over the past few weeks. NASA is adamant that we not do anything to make the situation worse.”
“So that gives them the right to beat us up?”
Nina sighed, as though I was being foolish. “Our government does not provide adequate funding for the moon base program. We need the income from space tourism to make up the difference. And once Moon Base Beta is built, it will derive even more of its operating costs from tourism. The Sjobergs could ruin all of that. If they start spreading lies about how bad things are up here, the tourists won’t come and the entire lunar colonization program will have to be scuttled.”
I frowned, annoyed by Nina’s argument. If the Sjobergs started talking about how bad life was at MBA, they wouldn’t have really been spreading lies at all; they would have been spreading the truth. All the Moonies knew that. The only thing that stopped any of us from letting people back on earth know that life there stank was that we couldn’t do it. NASA’s public relations department censored all our communications. Plus, we’d had to sign these complicated nondisclosure agreements preventing us from bad-mouthing the place when we got back to earth. If we did, we could be sued. But as tourists, the Sjobergs hadn’t signed any agreements like that; NASA had feared that would scare them off. When the Sjobergs got home, they could say whatever they wanted, so NASA was desperately trying to appease them in the meantime. Shoving the Urinator into Patton’s face didn’t really jibe with that plan.
As I considered this, I had a sudden flash of insight. “The Sjobergs are behind this, aren’t they?” I asked. “They’re the ones making you punish me, not NASA.”
For the second time, Nina dodged my question. “What you did warrants punishment, Dashiell. You could have really hurt Patton with that urine hose.”
I wasn’t about to let Nina get away without answering me. “That’s it, isn’t it? They want me punished, even though their kids are jerks. And because they’re so rich, you have to do it.”
Nina started to say something—probably a denial—but then changed her mind and told me, “Yes. And to be honest, they wanted a lot worse than merely cutting off your communication privileges for two weeks. If they’d had their way, you’d have been restricted to your room for the next three months.”
“This is so unfair,” I grumbled. The ComLink was the only thing that kept me sane at MBA. It was how I talked to my friends back on earth and uploaded all my books and movies. “I was just sitting there, minding my own business, and they came after me. Roddy was the one who got them all worked up in the first place.”
Nina arched her eyebrows slightly, which was as close as she ever came to expressing surprise. “Roddy was involved in this?”
“The Sjobergs didn’t tell you that?”
“Lily said they came into the rec room to play a game and you started mouthing off to them.”
“That’s a big old lie. They came in looking for Roddy. He’d done something to get them angry and they thought he and I were in on it together.”
“What had he done?”
“I don’t know. I tried to find out, but Patton was more interested in trying to kill me.”
Nina stroked her chin, thinking things over.
I said, “I’ll bet those two were up to no good and Roddy saw them. That’s why they didn’t tell you about him. Because they knew you’d go talk to him and find out what really happened.”
Nina considered this, then sighed again. “I suppose I should. I’ll see if . . .” A soft ping from her watch interrupted her, indicating a message had come in. She glanced down at it—and something about her changed. Nina was generally as focused as a laser, but she suddenly seemed distracted and flustered. She completely forgot what we’d been talking about, stood, and said, “We’re done here. You can return to your quarters.”
Normally, I would have jumped at the chance to get out of Nina’s room, but I stayed put on my InflatiCube. “Wait. Are you going to talk to Roddy?”
“What?” Nina asked, like her mind was already somewhere else.
“Are you going to ask Roddy what really happened?”
“Oh, yes. Of course. A full inquiry into the matter will be made. Run along now.” Nina made a shooing motion with her hands, then started to look through her desk drawers.
I stood and headed for the door. “And if Roddy tells you the Sjobergs were doing something wrong, you’ll punish them for it?”
“Definitely,” Nina said.
“Maybe you could roll them in peanut butter and then dip them in chocolate,” I suggested, just to see if Nina was paying attention.
“Sure,” Nina said distractedly.
“And then shove a flaming octopus up their noses.”
“Of course.” Nina suddenly looked up, having realized I’d been teasing her. She frowned at me. “I said we’re done, Dashiell.”
“Okay. Have a nice night.”
Nina returned her attention to her desk as I slipped out the door.
That was the last time anyone saw her before she disappeared.