“I’m betting the stuff was blown out of the dome,” Jake said. “A sudden decompression that caused the air to push things out as it escaped through the crack there on the side.”
“That’s not all,” Nikki said. “There’s melted plastic down the south side of the dome—along the mining shaft. An industrial laser… But? What? Used as a weapon or something. An accident?”
“Don’t think so,” I said. “The burnt plastic’s in a pattern. Crude letters—reversed—on the wall.
If you were standing inside they would read ‘K F.’”
“Why’d someone do that?” Jake asked.
That was the fifty-four thousand credit question. I had a feeling we were about to find the answer. In the meantime, none of us could think of any code or words that had any important meaning. KF? And why would anyone do such a dangerous thing? They were lucky they hadn’t punched a hole in the mining dome.
I circled the base slowly before landing. Everything looked quiet. “What do you think? Shall we land? I’m not too keen on meeting a crazy with an industrial laser.” I remembered what had happened the last time I’d seen an industrial laser fired. Having my smiling head sitting out in the lunar dust didn’t seem at all appealing, and I figured it had to hurt getting into that sort of condition, even if only momentarily.
“Nothing seems to be going on down there now,” Nikki said. “Nothing’s lit up inside.”
“Let’s land and sit a minute,” Jake suggested. “See if anything happens.”
“We can’t stay too long,” Nikki said. “We don’t have much spare oxygen for the return trip.”
I wished we’d loaded up a few more spare canisters. We’d planned on picking up spares in the Eratothenes base. Now that didn’t seem like such a wise course of action.
We sat for ten minutes.
Nothing happened.
“I’m going to take a look,” I said. I was tired of waiting for a disaster to happen; it was more nerve-racking than doing something. I popped open the glove compartment of the van and pulled out my Beretta 92-F.
“Will that work without air?” Nikki asked.
“Yeah. The firing pressure is hundreds of times higher than Earth’s air pressure. The loss of the sixteen pounds of air pressure outside won’t be a strain on it. Jake, why don’t you grab the needle rifle. Nikki, you take the wheel of the van in case we need to make a fast run for it.”
Jake and I extracted ourselves from the van.
“Let’s split up,” Jake suggested. “You head for that boulder next to the air lock and I’ll cover you.”
“Ready?”
Jake steadied himself against the van and aimed at the entrance of the base. “Go.”
I hippity-hopped toward a boulder near the airlock like a rabbit that had feasted on jumping beans, finally getting behind it where I caught my breath and aimed my pistol at the front access door. “Look’s quiet. I’ve got the Come on. I’ve got the entrance covered.”
Jake bounced across the plain like a kangaroo and stopped by the door and waited a moment, his rifle at the ready. “OK. Come on up, Phil.”
I bounced toward the door and stopped on the other side of it with the grace of a dancing hippo, plowing into the side of the dome hard enough to make my teeth rattle when my head bounced off the inside of my helmet.
We waited another moment.
“See anything, Nikki?” I asked.
“Looks clear from back here.”
“Just a minute,” I told Jake. “Watch the door.” I crawled over to the wide crack in the dome and peered into it, trying to see through the darkness inside. Throwing caution to the wind, I switched on my helmet lamp and inspected the interior of the dome in its bright beam.
The inside had been trashed with paper and equipment scattered all over the floor. There didn’t seem to be anything moving inside. “The place is a mess,” I told the others. “Looks like the communication gear is smashed.” I moved to the other side of the crack and checked out the rest of the room. “No one’s in sight. No bodies either. The crack’s just a little too narrow to get through. Has pretty sharp edges.”
“The shell’s too tough to break or pry open, ” Jake said. “Let’s use the door.”
“We have a problem, ” Jake said. “The inner door’s designed so it can’t be opened without cycling air into the air lock. That’s normally a safety feature; now it’s bad news since the dome doesn’t have any air in it.”
“Maybe the system is out of air,” I said.
“Yeah. Could be. Let’s try.” He pushed the cycle button. The door closed behind us and the chamber filled with air.
“Damn,” Jake said. “We shouldn’t open the inner door with the pressure up in here and a vacuum on the other side. It’s pretty dangerous. Might rip our suits open if it sucked us in.”
“There’s a pleasant thought,” I said. I aimed my Beretta at the wall leading out to the plain.
“Maybe if the instruments think the airlock is pressurized but it isn’t… Stand back… This looks like a good spot? No hidden wiring or anything.”
“Good as any. Stay away from the hole when you’ve made it. It’ll create some real suction at first.”
I pulled the trigger. The discharge exploded loudly in the air-filled chamber and a small hole appeared in the plastic wall. The air hissed out slowly as our suits ballooned as the pressure dropped.
Then the suits draped back against our skin as air rushed into the chamber with a steady hiss.
“So much for that idea,” I said.
“Forgot about the auto cycle,” Jake said. “Let’s see if we can turn off the power. Don’t get against the bullet hole!”
I was glad he cautioned me since I about put my posterior end against it. Having the seat ripped off your pants in a vacuum would be more than embarrassing. I grimaced at the thought of getting a little “behind” into my work, as it were.
Jake pulled off the metal plate over the emergency button which was located where the other one had been at our base. He punched it and the air quit running into the chamber and again leaked out through the bullet hole and our suits inflating once more.
But, due to safety features, the inner door would not open. “Any suggestions?”
“Fix thirteen.”
“Which would be?” Jake asked.
I laughed. “Whenever we had equipment that didn’t work right in the lab, we often resorted to
’fix thirteen.’ Brute force or some other override that the manufacturer never planned on seeing with his equipment.”
Jake held up his rifle.
“Yes,” I agreed. “I’d aim about there.” I tapped a section of the door that I suspected held the latching system.
“What are you guys doing in there?” Nikki asked. “Everything okay?”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Just a little problem getting through the air lock. We’re about ready to go in now.”
Jake fired his weapon. The shower of sparks produced when the high energy slug hit the panel was spectacular in the closed quarters and I hoped it hadn’t peppered our suits with fragments. Not seeing any immediate leaks, we seemed to have met with success. Jake hit the button again and I pushed the door ajar, glanced inside and saw no one, then jumped on through the opening where I slipped, falling on my back, with a curse.
Nikki said, “Hey, are you guys all right?”
“Blasted lunar gravity,” I said picking myself up. I looked around to be sure it was still safe, saw no one, and straightened up. “Looks clear. Let’s give everything the once over.”
“Don’t get side tracked looking at the damage,” Jake warned.
