Indigo Moon

“Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. However, recent advancements in the field of physics suggest that given the adequate amount of matter present in the vacuum, one might indeed be able to pick up—”

The operator at J Station turned down the droning channel and tried to rub the sleepiness from his eyes. Someone would be hearing his screams of boredom pretty soon. He glanced over the instruments panel and then the clock. 17:39 PM Jovian Lunar Time, December 18th 2954, by Earth Calendar. Another year was coming to a close here in the shadow of Jupiter. Another year of his contract complete, another year of hoping he could someday afford to return to the blue marble; well, brownish marble. He sighed heavily. He’d started his shift at 10:00 PM and he was only seven hours into it. Seven more to go, two until “midnight” on the lunar clocks. The days ran longer here, and so they had adjusted to an orbital hour system, leaving behind the twenty-four hour cycle.

It was going to be a long night.

…

It was around 2:14 AM Jovian Lunar Time when the first warning signals started to register. Most of the moon was asleep at this hour, and most of it wouldn’t begin to wake up for another 10 hours at least. This time of year, this far away from the sun, days were short and nights were long, and people tended to catch up on sleep they’d lost during the haywire of the relatively more sunlit work months.

Aaron sat forward sharply from his comfy-chair and stared at the console where one of the sensors had started to beep a low orange, soft and unobtrusive, but definitely not ok. He ran through some quick diagnostics and saw the problem was coming from J Station, three-hundred miles southeast of the sub-central control hub he was stationed at.

“Come in J Station” he buzzed into the comms, “I’m getting some funny readings from you, just want to verify everything’s peachy.”

He waited a few moments, but there was no response. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but he swallowed steadily. There was no need to be alarmed. Whoever was in the comms tower at J station was probably dozing off on the job. The warnings were probably just slightly higher-than-normal geothermal activity. Could be flares from the moon’s core.

“Repeat J Station, come in please. Confirm readings from sensors 11-23 on your lower core-shafts. Over.”

Another fifteen seconds, no response. A second orange light was beeping next to the first. Four more thermal shafts registering excess heat. He started pinging I and K stations for their readouts to see if it was localized activity or a bigger flare. He picked up the comm set and dialled into J Station security, ignoring the woozy elevator music.

He pinged J Station again, no response. Something was up. Maybe the operator was already busy trying to deal with it. He scanned the I Station and K Station readouts, both nominal, and buzzed K Station.

“Comm Central this is T-Dawg, come on in.” the drawl spilled through the comms board.

“Hey Travis this is A.P. over at Comm-Cen, you haven’t heard anything from J Station operator have you?”

“Not a peep; who’s birthday is it?”

“No candles I’m afraid; I’m getting some funny readings from J and he’s not answering, figured he might have buzzed you for assistance.”

“Huh. Readings are steady here…unless…” Scattered typing came through the comm as Travis trailed off. “Give me a few minutes here, might have something.”

“Ok I’m getting through to security, keep me posted. Out.”

He closed the connection as a woman answered for J Station security.

“J Station Security, If this is a noise complaint or a minor incident J-Stay-Sec is happy for you to handle it yourself.” she said in a sarcastic sing-song.

“This is Comm-Cen operator, I’m having trouble reaching J Station operator. Can you have someone check it out?“

“Hm, I don’t have anyone in HQ right now but the third-shift guys should be here in about twenty-five minutes; is there a problem?”

“There might be. Can you get anyone sooner?”

When the woman answered she sounded worried.

“You folks usually don’t call unless there’s a problem.” The mirth was gone from her voice. She paused for a long second. “I can head down there now to assess. Will that work?”

Damn. Another cherry on top of what was starting to be too many bad sundaes in a row.

“That’ll work. What’s your name?” He said as he pulled up a new readout from J Station. Something was definitely up. He would need someone from engineering to take a look at this. He began pressing a sequence of buttons to initiate a partial reroute of the excess heat to the neighboring stations and backup batteries.

“Kaitlin.” The woman said. Aaron got an image of a blonde ponytail, tight and slicked back, almost militant. Random. He shook his head.

“Ok Kaitlin, ring your crew and let them know you’re headed there. Please bring a comm set and have me on speed dial.”

“Copy that, headed there now sir.”

The line clicked and Aaron was already paging Dean from engineering. His pulse had kicked up a good 15 bpm but he tried to take deep steady breaths. Things were still under control. The readouts from J Station were showing heat buildup in a bunch of the shafts, but it wasn’t being dispersed the way it should have been, even with the reroutes he had started to the neighboring stations. Geothermal heat was supposed to reroute to backup shafts and thermal batteries in a flare. Heat from a flare also came and went in spikes; this seemed to be building up slowly. It wasn’t equipment failure - at least not on any diagnostic reading. A big flare maybe?

Dean answered groggily.

“This is Dean.”

“Hey Dean it’s Aaron, sorry to wake you up, I’m gonna need you to come down to the station as soon as you can. I’m getting some strange readings that are coming in from J Station. Never seen anything like this. Heat buildup that isn’t dispersing properly.”

A pause as Dean processed the information.

“Did you reroute to the backups?”

“Yeah already did that a few minutes ago, doesn’t look like it’s doing much.” Aaron wiped a bead of cold sweat that had found its way down his forehead. He realized the knot in his stomach was a good degree tighter than he remembered it being.

“Ok, I’m on my way. Be there in fifteen.” Dean said. The sleepiness was gone from his voice. That only made Aaron more nervous. The thermal power plants on the lunar surface had been operational for seven years and there had never been any problems until now. The system was designed with redundancies on redundancies to account for fluctuations in the small moon’s core output. So while a little bit of heat buildup shouldn’t have been an issue, it was still very strange to be happening at all.

“Also, get a hold of Dr. Gorman and have him head down, tell him I asked for him. We might need some top-level brains on this.” Dean was still on the line.

“Copy that.” Aaron said. “And if I can’t get ahold of him?” He could hear murmuring in the background; he guessed it was Dean’s wife, not happy at him leaving bed in the middle of the long night.

“You will. All the other science brass are on Christmas break. He’s the only one here for the next two weeks so he’s on call twenty-four seven.”

“Oh ok, roger that.” Aaron said. “I’ll get in touch. See you in a bit.” Funny how some Earth expressions never died. Here it was actually forty-seven twenty.

“Yup.” The line clicked dead.

Aaron checked the timer he had set on his watch. It had been six minutes since he had spoken to Kaitlin. Hopefully she’d be arriving at J Station soon. Heat was still building up. He buzzed the station again.

“J Station, come in ASAP please. I’ve got someone from security headed over to check you’re okay.”

He opened the directory for the station crews and located the next two shift’s crews and paged them. Might need a few more hands on deck. He also paged an engineer mechanic for good measure.

Better safe than sorry, Aaron thought. He lived by the mantra.

…

“The riots on Luna have continued into the week, threatening to disrupt residents’ Christmas plans. UN Secretary Sarah Avala is set to make an appearance at the new year to address the rolling supply chain issues as well as the—”

The J Station operator leaned back in his chair, tuning out the broadcast, and put down the book he’d been reading, a worn and weathered paperback that had somehow found its way out into the solar system. Some cheap science-fiction from Earth that apparently knew nothing about the science part of its fiction. Too many authors these days stayed in their VR worlds and never ventured out into the solar system where reality was happening.

He glanced at the clock for the hundredth time. 00:12 AM Jovian Lunar Time. It was finally past midnight. Five hours to go. He decided to stretch his legs and do a walk-around of the J Station thermal shaft facility. He took the mobile console that would relay all the tower’s instruments and comms to him and headed for the elevator, grabbing his jumpsuit. The name pin snagged on the closet and it clattered to the floor. Five hours to go. He pressed the down button on the elevator and looked at the name pin. He really could not be bothered. He grabbed his thermos as the elevator door opened.

Not like he was going to bump into anyone anyways.

…

Back at the sub-central control station Aaron looked up Dr. Gorman’s number in the directory and rang through to him. While the line was ringing he checked the latest diagnostics. The reroutes to the backups had helped dissipate the initial surge, but the heat was still building. What was strange was that none of the other stations on the moon were showing buildup or even flare activity. Even if they had all automatically absorbed and dealt with the heat from a flare, and it had been within their tolerances, at the rate it was continuing to build they should have started registering by now. Something wasn’t right.

He thought for a moment about triggering an evacuation alarm for J Sector, but he held off. The levels weren’t even a quarter of the way to official warning levels yet. They had time. He pulled his hand back from the emergency button.

And then he messaged Molly.

He didn’t know why, but something in his gut made him do it. Turning to her in a time of stress maybe? He didn’t know. She probably wouldn’t even see it right now anyways; she was still on her mining shift in Q Sector four hundred miles away.

The feeling of her embrace flashed through his mind. The image of them laying intertwined together, her wavy orange hair spilling around their faces like a curtain, his head weightless against her breasts in a serene moment of intimate peace - the thought gave him a moment of dopamine-fuelled relief like a deep breath of oxygen.

His mind lingered on her for another second. If he needed to he could be there within thirty minutes via speed-rail. Not that he needed to; he needed to be here now, in the moment.

He snapped his attention back to the present.

The line to Dr. Gorman had gone to voicemail.

“Dr. Gorman isn’t available right now, can I take a message?” The AI chirped as several new orange warning lights blinked on from more of the stations; K, L, M and N registering slightly higher than normal heat levels.

A long second of silence followed as Aaron felt the pit that had been sinking in his stomach thud to the acidic bottom.

He pressed the evacuation alarm for J Sector.

Better safe than sorry.

…

Dean had entered the sub-central control tower by 2:27 AM Jovian Lunar Time and within minutes, Aaron had filled him in and they had completed a full diagnostic readout of the moon’s operational systems. The majority of stations were functioning nominally, but there was still the problem of J Station registering excess heat buildup, and now it was spilling over to K Station. The comm buzzed from K Station as if on cue.

“Talk to me Travis,” Aaron said. When Travis responded, the line was choppy, with lots of static and breaks in the audio.

“It’s not good.” Came the first reply. Several moments of static followed. “I decided to che- the main vent shaft, went — levels down — manual override. Heading back to the s—face now. Something’s wrong.”

Aaron noticed he was gripping the edges of the schematics table. He let go.

“The line isn’t great, try us again when you get back to the surface.” Aaron said. “I’m going to call in some backup for your station.”

“Copy.” Travis said.

Dean was swiping through old reports and schematics with his brow furrowed, and he had several windows of the moon’s current readings open.

“Something is definitely wrong.” He said flatly. “The facilities on this moon were constructed with the precise aim of not letting too much heat escape the core so as not to disrupt the natural geothermals that have been at play here for who knows how many thousands of years. The idea was to come in, poke some needle-sized holes in the hot-air balloon, and then carefully regulate the outward flow of geothermal heat.”

He flicked the main status display back onto the main monitor. All stations were showing slightly higher than normal readings, which was no problem in and of itself; the stations had margins for error and wiggle room within their tolerances. Dean cleared his throat and continued.

“Right now the majority of the readings are still nominal. A little extra heat dispersed moon-wide is something the stations can handle, say in the event of a flare. What’s not normal is this,” He pointed to a subset of readings below the main console.

“The overall temperature of the core is up right now 500 degrees centigrade; which is maybe a small percentage above normal - not entirely unusual. Thermal flares come and go. Core temperatures can have a range in the thousands of degrees of margin. This manifests in erratic spikes and drops.” He pointed at the subset readouts. “What is unusual is that surface-wide, every station is registering that for the last twelve hours, the core temperature has been steadily and exponentially rising. That shouldn’t be happening.”

Dean stared at the screens for a few more moments, shaking his head gently in disbelief.

“I don’t understand…” he muttered. He turned to Aaron. “We need Dr. Gorman in here.”

“I’ve been getting voicemail for the past fifteen minutes.” Aaron said. “Building security is checking on his room now.”

Dean frowned.

“This is exactly the scenario where you don’t want Murphy’s law kicking in.”

The knot in Aaron’s stomach tightened. “Yeah.”

He hadn’t heard back from Kaitlin yet.

…

The operator from J Station was now sweating profusely, even through the titanium-reinforced heat suit. He climbed his way slowly back up the emergency service ladder, each rung harder than the last as the heavy suit began to tire him out. Several thousand feet below him the double blast doors were beginning to glow a gentle orange as the geothermal heat behind them continued to build.

Equally high above him he could see the twinkling lights of the main station landing. He wasn’t going to make it. The heat was rising rapidly and if it was let through unchecked, the whole Sector would be exposed. After several more laborious minutes he stepped off the ladder and onto the emergency catwalk that lined the edge of the shaft. He made his way to the manual override panel and began to open all of the backup channels and exhaust shafts leading to vents and thermal batteries. Anything to buy a few more minutes.

“Comm central come in.” He wheezed into his console, but the channel was dead static. The magnetosphere was being affected by the inferno temperatures and it was interfering with the communications system.

“Damn it!” He pounded his fist against the panel and looked over the edge of the catwalk to the orange glow thousands of feet below. Everything in the lunar stations had been built from composite materials and metals that were specifically designed to withstand and if necessary, retain heat. Now it looked like those materials were at their breaking point.

The J Station operator walked back to the ladder and began climbing again. The next blast door was two hundred and fifty feet up. He had to make it.

…

Jurgen Tuchel Klaus swirled the dark amber liquid in his glass for a few more moments before downing it. Force of habit. He tapped the counter for another as the bartender passed by. God he missed real drinks on Earth. This vat-brewed stuff in low gravity just didn’t cut it. He missed the grey skies and damp streets and claustrophobic urban sprawls that tried to swallow you up the moment you stopped resisting.

Resisting.

He watched the bartender pour his refill, the shimmering liquid half-heartedly settling into his glass.

He missed having the resistance of one full Earth G. His legs ached to feel the firm earth beneath his feet, the subtle effort it took to stay upright. His bones longed for the weight of his organs and flesh against his skeleton, held firmly in place by the effect of the Earth’s mass. The bar’s media screen caught his attention for a moment as a banner scrolled across the bottom - J Sector was being evacuated. Unusual. Jurgen raised his eyebrows as he downed the second drink. Or was it his fifth that evening?

His console buzzed in his pocket.

After ignoring it for a few seconds he fished it out and answered.

“Is this Jurgen, private investigative service?” The voice said.

“Roger,” He answered. “What can I do you for?”

“Can you track someone down on this station rapidly?”

“For the right amount, sure.” He answered. “May I ask who’s asking?”

“This is the Comm-Cen operator. There’s been an incident.” Jurgen set down his glass. Comm-Cen was calling him? They must be desperate.

“We need you to find Dr. Bern Gorman within the hour. He’s top brass science department; security at his building just reported that he was not in his quarters, and they have no records of where he might have left to. We need to you to locate him as quickly as possible. Whatever the price, it’s covered. Can you do it?”

“I’ll get on it right away.” He said. Finding one guy on the moon? It was like finding a needle in a haystack, but the Comm-Cen operator had given him financial guarantee. Hell, it didn’t hurt to try.

“Can you do it right now?” The operator asked. Jurgen picked up his hat and tapped his console on the way past the bar door to settle his tab.

“Headed out as we speak.”

“Let me know as soon as you have developments.”

Jurgen paused. The whole assignment was strange.

“Is there a problem?”

“Keep it to yourself, but yes.” The operator said. “There is a serious problem. Find Dr. Gorman.”

“Copy that.” Jurgen closed the connection. He didn’t like the operator’s tone. Something about it told him that this was indeed serious. He took a deep, unexpectedly shaky breath.

One doctor, twenty-five stations.

Where to begin?

…

“Authorities have been coordinating the evacuation of J Station in response to an emergency order from Comm Central. While the Central Authority has yet to provide details as to the nature of the emergency, they have requested that residents remain calm and cooperate with station personnel to keep the evacuation process operating smoothly.”

The channel at J Station continued to play to the empty control room. At the base of the tower, Kaitlin from J Station Security was entering the elevator.

…

“I think we may need to start some evacuations for the neighboring stations.” Dean said.

It was now 2:53 AM Jovian Lunar Time and the situation wasn’t getting any better. Temperatures were still steadily rising. Slowly, but steadily. In the way that cores generally did not.

“What happens when we run out of neighboring stations?” Zach asked.

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.” Dean replied. “If nothing has changed within an hour, we’ll need to start making some tough calls.”

“Should we start thinking about a planetary evacuation?” Aaron said. They had both been thinking it, but neither of them had wanted to give the idea a voice.

“Not yet. The last thing we need right now is mass hysteria.” Dean said. He looked ten years older than when the hour had began. “Still no word from J Station?”

Aaron checked his comm set. Nothing new.

“Nothing. I want to get over there myself. Ground zero for this whole thing and I’m stuck here behind the wheel.”

“Do you have anyone on the way?”

“A girl from the J Station Security. She should have been there by now.”

Dean took a deep breath, and let it out as a troubled sigh.

“One domino after the other.”

...

Kaitlin tugged at her ponytail as she rode the elevator up the J Station control tower. The evacuation order had left her on edge as she made her way to the J Station thermal facility, and she had packed her pepper spray just in case. The tubes had been mostly empty as she had been on the way; she guessed they would be packed now in an ‘orderly’ evacuation that was anything but.

The elevator door opened and she stepped into the empty control room. Nothing looked out of order. She scanned the controls and consoles for any signs to point her in the right direction. Nothing. No signs of trouble.

“Come in Comm-Cen this is Kaitlin from J Station Security.” She spoke into her comm set. The line crackled and hissed static. Weird. She should have excellent signal this high up and in one of the control towers. She gazed at the single tube which ran from the tower facility to the thermal facility proper and decided to head over to check it out. Should she be evacuating too? No, she had a job to do here. Something was up and it was just her luck to be in the right place at the wrong time and be stuck dealing with it.

As she turned back towards the elevator she saw one of the jumpsuits was missing from the shallow closet, and a name pin was on the metal floor. She picked it up. It must have belonged to the missing crew member.

Brett Harvey.

She tucked the name pin into her pocket and stepped back into the elevator. As the elevator descended she thought about the sequence of events that night and tightened her grip on her flashlight.

She didn’t like the look of any of this.

…