The New Guy In Moon Base Twelve Read online

  "I'll check with HQ again," Maya added.

  "I guess we ought to go see for ourselves," Demaryius muttered. He didn't seem too enthusiastic. He was not the most adventurous type, unless he was in front of a stove; then there was no limit to his boldness.

  "Group meeting?" Rolanda suggested and the others sighed in agreement. No one really liked group meetings, but they were occasionally necessary. Whoever called one would present their question for discussion, and everyone would come to some sort of conclusion as rapidly as possible. There hadn't been too many such meetings in the history of the colony. For example, they had assented within minutes to Marco Velez's proposal to blow up a few craters. They had once allowed themselves to be subjected to a barrage of probing, personal questions by the resident psychologist, Anita Frey. They had voted on the concept of voting on concepts, unanimously supporting the notion. They also had a rule limiting such meetings to no more than once every thirty days, barring an emergency.

  "Call it," Maya agreed, and Rolanda tapped the special code into her transmitter.

  Chapter Four

  No one was thrilled with the summons, but as it was part of the protocol, those who were nearby ambled along and joined the group in Moon Base One over the next twenty minutes. There was no hurry. There was never a hurry about anything in the settlement, and fortunately the residents had been selected for their patience and equanimity along with the other useful traits. It may seem like a highly specialized collection of personality quirks, but the committee had found it wasn't too much trouble to sort it all out. One thing seemed to go pretty much with another. People who fervently believed in cooperation and sharing tended likewise to be tolerant of each other's faults as well as their virtues. People who volunteered to spend a decade or more in relative isolation (on the freaking moon, no less) also had in common the ability to relax and take things easy, more or less. Some were a bit too laid back, perhaps, and such minor temperamental differences were certainly amplified under those conditions, but the walls were plastered with various philosophical reminders, such as "the moon wasn't built in a day,” and "was there somewhere you needed to be?"

  Michael Gelano was the first to arrive. He was one the closest things the group had to a 'leader' personality, aside from Maya Nguyen and the old guy, Rayburn Willis. Gelano was one of the Drillers and tended to be the guy who pointed at new spots, while the rest of the crew followed along and did their thing. It didn't seem to matter where they poked their equipment. The moon was pretty much what they thought it would be - a lot of rocks and dust, occasional ice and grayish surprises that were probably life forms of one kind or another, but nothing that anyone had figured out yet. The Drillers were perpetually bringing back specimens for the scientists to inspect. Gelano was also the biggest man in the group, at six foot six two forty, with an enormous bald head riddled with a plethora of dark pits and spots, resembling the moon itself more than anything else. He strode into the kitchen area and, sizing up the situation, suggested that everyone move over to the larger carpet area where group meetings were usually held, with most members sitting cross-legged on the ground.

  Others soon arrived, and when they reached the quorum of fifteen, and the myriad greetings and murmurings were dying down, Maya stood up and began the meeting.

  "Galen had an interesting encounter this morning," she began. "It seems there is a new guy living over in Moon Base Twelve."

  "Impossible," blurted out Redmon Chanoo, a handsome young workout fanatic who was another of the Builders group. "I was just over there last night and didn't see anyone."

  "Wait a second?” interrupted the resident artist, Helen Green Brush. Almost everything she said took the form of a question, but in this case there were legitimate ones to be asked. "How could there be a new guy anywhere? Was there a landing we didn't hear about?"

  "Not that we know of," Maya replied in her customary even tone. As the resident diplomat and official go-between, she was a master of the art of conciliation. "I just spoke with Mission Control and they claim to know nothing about any arrivals."

  "So has Galen gone crazy?” asked Fydia Sooth, examining him for telltale signs of space madness. Fydia was always on the lookout for people going crazy. It had been her intuition from the beginning of the mission that someone was bound to, sooner or later, and it was her intention to be the first to know about it. She had read up on all the symptoms and Galen was definitely exhibiting some of them.

  "Go see for yourself," Galen sullenly responded from his spot on the floor, where he was rocking uncomfortably and occasionally scratching his left arm with his right hand. Fydia made a mental note of that particular move.

  "You do seem especially agitated," Anita Frey observed.

  "There's a freaking New Guy!" Galen nearly shouted. "What's he doing there?"

  "I guess we ought to go ask him," Michael Gelano declared.

  "Should we all go?" Rolanda asked and from the sound of her voice it was clear this was something she wanted no part of. Rolanda was much more comfortable peering into her microscope at moon rock samples.

  "Maybe just a group," Gelano suggested. "Do we want to vote on it?"

  Everyone present shook their heads. No one ever wanted to vote. That meant you had to take a side and it was better for all concerned if decisions were unanimous and there were no factions, not even on the smallest issues. If these people were religious about anything, it was this.

  "Maya, for one, I'd think," Gelano continued. The group murmured assent. Maya was always the point of contact. Assuming they ever encountered alien life forms, it was already decided she would go first. Even Fydia Sooth had agreed to it, though she privately thought she would deserve the honor, seeing as she was the one most likely to draw the alien's attention to their presence with her incessantly creative broadcasts.

  "And I'd like to go," Gelano added. Again there was a positive rumbling and a unison of nodding heads.

  "Anyone else?" he asked, looking around. He would have been fine with just him and Maya. It was his opinion that the two of them were always the right choice for everything.

  "Me," Fydia hurriedly said. If she couldn't be the official meeter-and-greeter, she at least intended to be there.

  "Me too," piped in Rayburn Willis, the aging astrophysicist and all-around expert on everything. So far there had never been any subject he wasn't interested in, nor was there much about which he didn't already know the most among them all. Besides being the oldest and wisest and most experienced, he had also been the first settler selected, and had had a voice in selecting all the others. This was no accident. He was actually a founding member of the commission.

  No one else volunteered. It was typical of the settlement that whenever they formed groups, aside from these general meetings, the group never exceeded the number four. It was a sort of unspoken arrangement. If anyone else had wanted to join in, they would have refrained, seeing as the quota had already been reached.

  "Well then," Gelano said. "Is there anything else to talk about here?"

  There wasn't, and the assembled folks were happy to get the meeting over and done with. Demaryius and Harriet returned to the kitchen to continue discussing their mushroom, while the other non-volunteers returned to their own various activities. Rolanda remained with Galen to question him further about his anxiety, finally giving him an herbal sedative. She was puzzled by his condition. He was normally a mellow guy, and there was something very unusual about his behavior. It almost seemed physical, like an allergic reaction. She decided to do some research on the physio-biology of initial encounters, and wandered off to her study area. Galen, meanwhile, fell fast asleep right there in the middle of the floor.

  Chapter Five

  The greetings committee made their way out of the building, through the double-lock doors and into the vacuum. All around them was the familiar sight of blackness interrupted by stars. To their left was the other official Moon Base, and a few hundred yards ahead lay the heap of scrap and ju
nk known as Moon Base Twelve. They stepped along side by side, faces shielded only by their breathing masks and foil skull wrappers. Gelano opened the outer door of the hut and after the other three had entered this chamber, pulled it closed, and opened the inner door. As they entered, The New Guy looked up at them, startled. He had been turning over some metal plates, inspecting the pattern of scratches on their surface as if he could read them like a book. Now he lowered his arms and gazed at the newcomers as they removed their masks and hoods.

  "Hello," Maya Nguyen said mildly, bowing slightly out of diplomatic habit. The New Guy awkwardly returned this gesture and the greeting, in a cracked voice that seemed unused to speaking. Maya introduced the members of the group.

  "My name is Maya Nguyen," she said, slowly. "This is Michael Gelano, our Chief Engineer. This is Fydia Sooth, Communications, and here is Rayburn Willis, Science Officer."

  "Hello, Chiefs," said the New Guy, looking mainly at Gelano, whose presence typically overwhelmed the scene, his shining dome nearly grazing the ceiling of the shed.

  "What is your name?" Maya asked. The New Guy didn't seem to hear her at first. After studying Gelano, he had just begun to move on to the others when she'd spoken. She waited while he turned his attention to each of them, scanning them with focused eyes. When he returned his attention to her, she repeated her question. He didn't seem to understand it. She tapped her own sternum with her right palm and repeated her own name, then asked, for the third time, about his. The New Guy nodded, and said,

  "Martin."

  "Is that your first or last name?" interjected Gelano, despite Maya's attempt to wave him away from speaking. The New Guy studied Gelano's face again for a few moments, before replying.

  "Martin," he said.

  "Where did you come from?" Maya said rapidly, before Gelano could get another word in. The New Guy took a step toward them - they were all in a line a few feet away from him - and cocked his head slightly to one side.

  "America," he pronounced.

  "Or course America," said Rayburn Willis, shaking his head. "This IS an American base!"

  Maya sighed. Her moment of first contact had come and gone, and she'd only gotten one question in. From here on she would have to take turns along with the others. She did think that sometimes the whole sharing thing could go too far.

  "Do you know where you are?" asked Fydia Sooth, sensing that it was her turn to speak. She was picking up a weird vibe from The New Guy, then even more of one as he leaned his face toward her and said,

  "Of course the moon."

  "What are you doing here?" Gelano burst in.

  "Who sent you?" Willis demanded.

  "One at a time, please," Maya said to her own people, straining to remain calm. They were all beginning to show signs of agitation and distress, reminding her of Galen's condition.

  "Oh," Martin said, "of course the commission."

  "We've spoken with Mission Control," Maya said.

  "Where's your ship?" Willis interrupted. "Where did you land?"

  "What are you doing here?" Gelano repeated, taking a large step toward Martin, who retreated two steps and drew his shoulders together.

  "People, please," Maya said again. "Let's take a moment, okay?"

  Fidya, Gelano and Willis responded automatically to this familiar instruction, and fell into the standard yoga posture. This was the settlers' common tactic for handling any impending stress. As the others focused on their breathing, Maya sized up The New Guy for herself.

  He was ugly, no doubt about that. He reminded her of a caricature of a cave man, though thinner. She couldn't determine his age. He could have been anywhere from mid-twenties to mid-forties, she reflected. He seemed uneasy, uncertain, uncomfortable. "I could call him the Un-guy,” she inwardly joked. She tried but failed to place his origin by his accent. It was unfortunate that nearly all regional American dialects had been killed off over the previous century, replaced by the bland standard TV-speak. Still, there was something slightly off about his speech, something not quite conforming, but she couldn't place it.

  "Are you hungry?" she asked him. He shook his head.

  "Thirsty?" Again he gestured that he wasn't.

  "Is there anything you want to tell us?"

  "I don't think so," Martin said.

  "This is ridiculous!" Gelano blurted out, unable to restrain himself any further. Maya reached out and put a hand on his arm. She could feel the tension in him as if he was electrified. This was not a good sign. Gelano was a person of enormous strength, which was useful for drilling but not so handy in emotional situations. Maya was thinking they should re-group, and re-consider their whole approach to The New Guy in Moon Base Twelve.

  Martin showed no indication that he intended to respond to Gelano's question, but he did raise his arms and half-hid his face behind the piece of scrap metal he was holding. He seemed to be trembling just a bit. Maya stepped forward and then turned around to face her group.

  "I don't think this is going very well," she said, quietly.

  "There's something so wrong about all this," Fydia offered.

  "I don't like it," Willis agreed.

  "Let me squeeze it out of him," Gelano suggested with a grimace.

  "No," Maya quickly replied. "Let's all think for a moment, listen to our bodies. It's having some sort of effect, can you feel it? Like with Galen."

  "Yes, you're right," Fydia acknowledged after a moment.

  "He's just pissing me off," Gelano grunted, and then added, "and I don't think I've felt this way in a very long time."

  "We need more information," insisted Rayburn Willis. "We don't really know anything about this guy."

  "I'm sure we all agree," Maya said. "The question is, how? What we're doing now doesn't seem to be working."

  "We should get out of here," Fydia said, peering over Maya's shoulder at Martin, who was still semi-cowering behind the jagged plate.

  "Keep him quarantined," Willis put in. "We can't let him get away."

  "It doesn't look like he has any apparatus," Gelano said. "I don't think he's going anywhere."

  "That's just impossible right there," Willis said. "It doesn't make any sense."

  "I agree with Fydia," Maya said. "We should all leave now."

  Everyone nodded, and Maya turned back around to face Martin.

  "We're going now," she told him, "but we'll be back. Please be prepared to answer our questions."

  Martin shrugged and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then seemed to change his mind and, blinking rapidly, felt behind him for the couch he'd been lying on when Galen had first discovered him. He lowered himself slowly onto it as Maya and the others turned and exited the inner door.

  Chapter Six

  Once back inside Moon Base One, the delegation huddled just inside the outer door.

  "I don't know," Willis said. "I don't like it, not one bit."

  "There's a reaction," Maya countered. "We have to deal with that first. Something about contact. We saw it with Galen, now we've seen it in ourselves. We need Rolanda to check us out before we do anything else. I say we don't even move from here, don't go in yet."

  "Okay," Fydia and Gelano said in unison as Maya tapped out the medicine woman's code on her transmitter.

  "Rolanda? Could you please join us in airlock one? And bring your scanner."

  "Roger," came the crackling voice of the resident medic.

  "We need a plan," Willis insisted. "I've got some ideas. One, send out a scouting party to find any traces of his ship. Two, talk to General O'Nail at HQ. Three, scan the db's for any history of this Martin fellow. See it we can find out anything. I've got some snaps I took on the sly. I'll do that."

  "All in good time." Maya nodded. "We can do all that, after Rolanda."

  "Right," snapped Willis. "Of course you're right. I'm just a little antsy, that's all."

  "Antsy?" queried Rolanda as she walked through the inner door. "Is that a professional diagnosis?"

  Willis
chuckled and relaxed a little as Rolanda brought up her device and waved it seemingly at random around the room. The group stood still as she meandered about them, tapping on the little black box and shaking it this way and that, all the while muttering like a fictional shaman might. Rolanda looked more like a librarian than a witch-doctor, though, with her round coke-bottle glasses, frizzy, short blond hair and oddly shiny little nose. She hopped into the air for a moment to get a read on Gelano's head.

  "Anything, doctor?" he asked her after she'd landed.

  "A lot," she replied, studying the small screen. "All of this and nothing," she murmured.

  "Meaning?" Maya prompted after Rolanda had remained quiet for several moments. The doctor looked up at her and said,

  "Like Galen, if that's what you mean. I thought it might be the case, so I brought these. Each of you needs to take some now. Just chew on it like a cow would grass."

  She passed around some leafy twigs, similar in shape and smell to small bits of fennel. Maya sniffed at it, then put it in her mouth and followed the doctor's orders. The taste wasn't bad and the effect was rapid. She could feel her heartbeat rate immediately decline to normal, and she hadn't even realized it was racing so fast before. All four did the same, and felt the same.

  "How is Galen?" Maya asked.

  "Resting," Rolanda said. "I think it wears off, this effect. Takes a while, though. A few hours. Whatever it is, it's pretty strong stuff."

  "What does the tran-fi say?" asked Willis, using the technical nickname for the knick-knack she'd used on them.

  "Nerves," Rolanda said. "Whatever it is, it acts on the nerves. Fraying them, actually. Quite literally. You've all heard the term, I'm sure, but I don't think I've ever seen it in action before. For that matter, I don't think anyone has. I ran some scans from Galen through Central, and there's no record of any nerve-end response like this. Nothing even close."

  "Frayed nerves?" Fydia snorted. "Like, with something getting on them?"

  "Eating at them, more like it," Rolanda replied in all seriousness. "Look," she added, showing a picture to Fydia. "Degeneration here, and here, and see? Spreading right along the path? It's a shortcut to the brain from there."