The Green and I

Slumped against a wall, she was bathed in the garish green light that apathetically wandered through the vehicle-sized hole in the ceiling of the station. Her helmet’s soft blue digital interface with vibrant red warning flashes reflected off her pale face. The orange glow of fire leaped and licked at her singed suit. She was sweating profusely, and panic was setting in, but she was not hurt. Let’s take a mental tally here… The helmet holds software that functions as her suit’s diagnostic suite and allows for remote access to the station’s central computer. The warnings indicated no damage to her suit environment, but there were catastrophic breaches to the station that resulted in complete destabilization of the internal environment of this lab pod and the storage and personal quarters. The water facilities pod was not communicating which suggests a correctable network issue. Fortunately, the main pod, kitchen, and greenhouse were unaffected by the disaster. I can work with that.

Beaten and bruised, she stood slowly and awkwardly. A cursory glance at the immediate surroundings made it apparent that the rover used to navigate the territory had collided with and tore through the lab pod ceiling. It was a mere heap. If at all possible, it would be difficult to scavenge anything from it. The doorway was piled with debris and would be unnavigable even if it was still functional. She grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher and put out the small fire. She gazed up through the damage to the encompassing green light. Even in disaster, it is as wondrous as always… I’ll have to climb out that way. The rover rubble and station scrap had amalgamated into a convenient yet crass stepstool that allowed her to reach the roof of the pod.

She stood shakily as wind howled around her—dust and debris still being displaced. High winds suggest there was a storm… or there still is. She quickly looked back into the pod at the crumpled rover. The wind was obviously stronger than it is now. From her vantage point, she could not see the entirety of the station. The displaced dirt was too thick, and the green light reflected off the shiny silicates. It was like a disco in a dust storm. The first thing I need to do is restore communications with the water facilities. All the patch work can wait. Wait—the rover is destroyed. There is another in storage… I can get oxygen there as well. Deciding to stay on top of the station instead of dropping to the ground, she began the journey to the storage pod on the opposite end of the station.

The station’s outer paneling was mostly black to maximize solar absorption, but there were various white maintenance panels that softly glowed as they reflected the ageless aurora back towards space. While incessant, it was not consistently as bright as it is now. This system’s star persistently perpetuates solar storms causing its strong magnetosphere to radiate every hour. Landing here has so far proven to be a beautiful tragedy.

Lost in thought, she found herself approaching the familiar dome of the storage pod. From this angle, there is notable damage to the dome, but the extent cannot be determined. She slid slowly over the edge of the connecting hall structure and onto the loose litter of dust and metals. Maintaining contact with the structure, she followed it to the dome and around its circumference until she found the exterior door. The manual unlock was covered in dirt but still operational with proper effort. The scene inside matched that of the lab pod—debris drowning in a green glow. She haphazardly plodded through scrap aiming for the back of the pod where the large double doors were. That is where the second rover is parked with a rack of spare oxygen canisters beside it. Most of the inventory was salvageable and even undamaged. That’s good… Suddenly, a roar and a gust of wind bombarded her from behind, knocking her off her feet. That’s not good. She pushed herself up and quickened her pace to the rover.

The wind settled slightly relative to the gust, but it was stronger than it was moments before. The rover in sight, she hurried to it to find a panel from the dome had fallen on it. She pushed her weight against it, but it did not move. The damage to the rover is minimal, but I cannot get inside. The wind grabbed her once more and threw her against the doors. It did not cease this time. Prone, she pushed herself with her legs away from the doors, grabbing the rack holding the spare oxygen canisters. As she pulled herself to the rack, the helmet assaulted her eyes with red warning flashes. Catastrophic breach to main pod. Catastrophic breach to kitchen pod. Communications to greenhouse lost. The storage emergency lights flickered and popped. The helmet interface returned to a calm but blank blue glow. Lost communication with the central computer. Must have lost power. The dome groaned as the wind slowly pulled it apart, panel by panel. The oxygen rack being attached to the concrete floor was the only thing keeping it secure. She embraced the rack and tied her emergency line to it. All or nothing she thought as she dislodged a few oxygen capsules, stuffing them into the suit’s pockets. Closing her eyes, she listened to the rumble of the walloping wind dismantling the station. She pressed a button on the outside of the helmet.

“Voice log 21241225. Day 456… Approximately 10:00. The aurora was notably bright at dawn. Otherwise it was uneventful. A few hours later and within minutes, a strong storm wind blew into the territory damaging several station systems. I initiated repairs but was interrupted by a second storm. Weather anomaly could be separate events or a single event. Perhaps it is similar to hurricane, and I had been in its eye. I’d love to research this later, but the situation is not looking good. I—” She is cut off by another massive gust that tears her arms and legs from the racking. The emergency line snaps taught as the wind attempts to take her towards space. The racking bends but holds. Her body drops.

A rhythmic red flashing seeps through her eyelids. It must be a warning about the suit environment… She reluctantly opens her eyes to see her helmet indicating an audio recording is still active. The wind has ceased yet the green light continues. As always. Her mouth opens, but she says nothing. She smiles and breathes for a few moments before trying again.

“It kind of sucks being here, to be honest. This isn’t what I signed up for... And I have never truly thought anyone would find me here. When I first stepped onto this barren moon, I saw the aurora. Before I go to sleep, I see the aurora. When I wake up, I see the aurora. Everything is green—even when all other colors are degraded with dust… The green light persists. Even still… I never get tired of it. It is so lovely. It is a wondrous disaster. It is a beautiful tragedy.”