‘Hold it just here,’ said Doug, lifting his hand.
We all stopped. He waved forward and two of the Marines made their way gingerly towards the entrance to the garage dome. One of them was sweeping his or her radiation projector left and right as they progressed. They were looking intently at the ground until they reached the door. The other Marine aimed his projector at the keypad and then swept it up the side of the door, across the top and down the other side. Finally, they both aimed at the bottom of the door.
‘Can you check the face of the door too, please?’ I asked.
The two figures swept the door as if they were using some sort of paint sprayer.
Doug moved to the door and entered the four digits which had worked the last time I was at Moonbase. No guarantee they would this time, of course.
If we couldn’t get in this way, we could still enter via the EVA dome as, for safety reasons, that door could be opened with a simple pressing of a green button. Carbon dioxide build-up in a suit which is running short of air causes the brain to become fuddled. Entry to the main airlock could be a matter of life and death. It would not help to have to remember a number and use a keypad.
‘Why did they put a keypad on the garage door?’ asked Bill.
‘Good question,’ I said.
‘Well?’
‘No idea. You’ll need to ask Neil. Perhaps they were worried about neighbours borrowing tools.’
Bill laughed.
‘No,’ said Anna. ‘You need a keypad so that the computer knows someone is wanting to enter. It could then give a warning to anyone working in the garage to either suit up or leave.’
‘Ah. All is now clear,’ said Bill.
I watched as Doug pressed his helmet against the door. A few seconds later he said, ‘I can hear the air recycler running. Should open as soon as the atmosphere nears zero.’
‘Good news,’ I said. We wanted to get in this way as it would allow everyone to get inside quickly. The EVA dome airlock was too small for a crowd of twenty-eight astronauts.
It is strange observing events on the moon. The lack of sound gives the impression it is all part of a silent movie. The instant the door began to rise, a Marine irradiated the bottom of the doorway in case anything was lurking inside. There was the usual disturbance of the dust as the last of the atmosphere blew outwards as the door opened. It was almost impossible to reduce a pressurised space to the vacuum outside so there was always an outflow.
‘More dust outflow than normal,’ I said.
‘Why would that be?’ asked Doug.
‘The LRPs might not have been keeping the garage as clean as we usually did,’ I said.
‘So, nothing sinister in it?’
‘No, Doug. Wouldn’t have thought so.’
The door continued to rise. The Marines had taken up positions either side of the door and the rest of us kept our distance. There were no guns at Moonbase, except for Blake’s illicit air pistol which we had played with occasionally in the rec dome. Nevertheless, the infected were perfectly capable of building some sort of projectile-firing device or grenade. We didn’t think they would, though. They’d probably want us alive.
It was an anti-climax. The door was fully open, and the garage appeared to be deserted.
‘Marines enter!’ said Doug. ‘Spread out and irradiate as you go. Don’t forget the ceilings.’
The squad moved forward. Bill and I followed them in.
‘No buggies,’ I said.
‘There are two buggies over there,’ said Bill, pointing to the refurbished and improved Apollo XVI buggy and a second more sophisticated open vehicle.’
‘Yes. I meant the larger enclosed buggies. Computer, where are the crew?’
There was no reply.
‘Computer, please respond. This is Mark Noble.’ Again, there was no answer. It must be off-line.
‘Wonder where the main buggies have gone,’ I said. ‘Neil, the three buggies are gone. They’ve only left the open vehicles. Is there a recent picture of the Ben Lei base? Could they be there?’
After the usual two second delay we heard Neil say, ‘We’ll check, Mark. I’ll get back to you. The one at your and Linda’s blast-off location hasn’t moved. We know they went to Ben Lei, but returned.’
‘Okay, thanks. Could someone also check the lunar reconnaissance orbiter to see if buggy tracks can be seen running elsewhere? I assumed they would be in the garage. Two buggies would tear up the regolith substantially and the tracks should be visible.’
‘Copy that, Mark. We’re on it,’ replied Neil.
‘Mark, we’ve finished our search. The garage appears to be clean,’ said Doug.
‘Okay, the rest of you, come on in,’ I said. ‘Anna, Pete, you both know the garage form. Can you clean up the dust? Doesn’t look as if it has been done since Linda and I escaped. Drop the door when we’re all in, please, Bill.’
‘Will do.’
I made my way over to Doug and the other Marines who were keeping the door from the garage dome to the main dome under surveillance.
‘You’re ready?’ I asked.
‘If there is anyone behind the door they’ll be quickly irradiated,’ said Doug. ‘Our only real concern is a projectile or grenade attack and that would be less likely to hurt us once the atmosphere is reinstated.’
The door was now sealed, and I could feel the atmosphere climbing, allowing the suit to collapse around my body instead of being blown up in imitation of the Michelin man. As soon as the atmosphere reached 0.8 of Earth, the inner door could be opened from either side. Eighty per cent is a perfectly workable environment and puts less stress on the joins between building segments. Anyone living above six thousand feet is experiencing 0.8 of an atmosphere, so there is little effect on the human body. All of us, of course, had been tested for susceptibility to altitude sickness.
‘No one open their visors yet. I want the entire base checked first,’ I said.
A green light appeared above the door, meaning that pressure on each side was equal.
‘Anna, Pete, can you cut the vacuums until we’ve checked the main passage?’ Doug asked.
I heard the cleaning machines stop. The place was silent but for the continual background whirr of the air circulation pumps.
‘Okay, Everyone keep clear. Open the door,’ said Doug.
The interior doors were also extremely secure as they were protecting the interior of Moonbase from vacuum, if the garage were open to the surface. Gradually it slid to one side, revealing an empty corridor stretching almost the entire width of the main dome.
‘Nothing,’ said Bill.
‘B-squad, with me,’ said Doug, ‘clear the main corridor.’
Four Marines moved along irradiating floors, walls and ceilings. Bill and I followed at a safe distance. Doug stopped at a door on the left and beckoned us closer. It was the entrance to the medical centre.
‘This door is badly damaged,’ Doug said.
‘Yes. We’d sealed it to keep the infected in the medical bay, but they’d broken out,’ I said and I crossed the passage to look through the oval glass panels in the doors to the com dome. ‘Better check medical and the com dome first.’
‘Will do,’ said Doug, and I heard his chatter as he called more military personnel forward to tackle and irradiate those areas.
At the end of the corridor, adjacent to the passage to the rec dome, was the entrance to my cabin. Next to the com dome door was another double door to the common room. I peered inside and it looked pretty normal, apart from a lot of dirty plates and utensils lying around. It looked as if the infected were not particularly fastidious when it came to housekeeping.
‘Medical clear,’ said Mike, the Marine captain, emerging back into the corridor.
‘Common room now, Mike,’ said Doug. He opened the door.
What a fright I got when I had Doug’s clearance to enter the common room! Commander Blake Smith’s putrefying corpse was sitting upright at his desk, staring at me as if he was a zombie awaiting the opportunity to rise and attack. I was glad my visor was still in position. It didn’t look as if he would smell too pleasant.
I watched Doug irradiate him, while the others checked the rest of the room.
Gillian and her team arrived in the common room, ‘Com dome clear. Oh my God! Is that one of the crew?’
‘Yes, Blake, the commander,’ I said.
She composed herself then reported, ‘The com dome equipment is less badly damaged than it appears. Superficial mainly. The consoles are wrecked but the electronics seem almost intact,’ she said.
‘That’s odd,’ said Bill.
‘Well, not necessarily,’ I said. ‘The infected might not have realised that the innards of communication devices were more important than the consoles themselves. Remember that the LRPs were only interested in us not being able to communicate with Earth.’
‘Sorry,’ said Gillian. ‘I didn’t mean any of it is usable, but much of it could certainly be recovered. Zoya and Mikhail are going to get started on repairs after they’ve checked the remaining domes. How do we get into personal cabins?’
‘We need the computer up and running. Currently it is not responding. Penny and Dave are working on it,’ I said.
No sooner had I said that than I heard the computer say, ‘Recovering systems and data.’ Then a minute later, ‘Rebooting.’
We continued to hear various announcements as different systems were brought into play. Once the reboot was complete, it announced, ‘I recognise that Peter and Anna are here, not on Earth. The only active crew member is Mark. Instructions, please. What has been happening?’
‘Good afternoon, computer. Are all systems running?’ I asked.
‘Yes, Mark. All systems are running, but I cannot locate Blake, Mary, John, Linda, Roy, Jenny or Crystal. Can you provide their locations?’
‘NASA override code two, two, six, delta, alpha, nine,’ I said.
‘I recognise you as the new Moonbase commander, Mark.’
‘Blake is dead. Linda is on Earth. We do not know the locations of Mary, John, Roy, Jenny or Crystal. Anna is my deputy commander. Acknowledge.’
‘Acknowledged, Mark. What has occurred? Who are the people I do not recognise?’
‘I think you were switched off some time ago. An entity called the Lunar Regolith Parasite, or LRP, has possessed the bodies and minds of the missing crew. Each of the squad who are here will give their details to you at the common room terminal. Are all systems operational and unlikely to fail in the next month?’
‘Checking,’ said the computer.
Meanwhile, all the military not on sentry duty had congregated in the common room.
‘All areas clear, including storerooms,’ said Doug. ‘We just need access to crew quarters.’
‘Shortly,’ I said.
‘All Moonbase systems operational, Mark. No data coming from buggies one, two or three. Cosmic ray detectors appear to be disconnected,’ said the computer.
‘Doug, get a couple of your guys to bag Blake and put him in the cold store off the surgery,’ I said.
‘Sure thing,’ he said.
I walked over to the physical computer terminal and keyed in a security code.
‘Computer. You recognise that code?’
‘Yes, Mark. I recognise that code.’
‘Doug, are your Marines ready at each cabin door?’ I asked.
‘Ready, Mark,’ he replied.
‘Unlock all crew cabins.’
‘All crew cabins unlocked, Mark.’
I called across to Doug, ‘That’s the cabins open, Doug. Report back when they’ve all been checked.’
‘Will do,’ he said.
I turned to Penny and Dave who were awaiting instructions. ‘The bio dome’s been checked. Will you two make sure the hens have food? If they’ve been scavenging, they will have lost condition. Collect all the eggs you can find and put them in the incubator in the bio dome office. Some will possibly be fertile, but we can’t eat them because we have no idea when they were laid. Also check the irrigation is functioning normally.’
I called Neil using the radio we’d brought with us. ‘Any news on the buggies?’
After the usual delay, ‘The LRO (Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter) is passing over Ben Lei in about forty minutes and we’ll get back to you, Mark.’
When Penny, Dave and the Marines returned, we all felt a little easier. Except for the security detail, we had removed our suits and were enjoying a meal.
At least Moonbase was secure and had plenty of supplies, but where were the five remaining infected crew and the LRPs? I had expected traps and ambushes, but there had been nothing.