Ice Shadows Read online

  Maybe it was crazy but I was about to send a reply that essentially said I was going for it. But as I thought about it, a thought came to mind: I had two choices; I could either use the element of surprise and reenter at night, or, instead, make a splash (literally) and use the publicity to my advantage. After all, it’s one thing to claim you did something when no one saw you do it, but it’s another thing entirely when the media is aware enough to know it’s about to happen and is there to capture the climactic moment. I paused to consider the differences. Regardless of how this happened, it needed to come off with an element of notoriety. It would be like Lindbergh crossing the Atlantic, Chuck Yeager breaking the sound barrier, or Alan Shepherd being the first man in space.

  With all of that in mind, I sent my response. But I also told Eric that he had no idea how important and valued his contribution had been to my escape. I would be forever in his debt. I told him I loved him and was looking forward to seeing him in ten days. My only concern was if this device would perform as advertised. Simply getting launched might be the first issue. Just trying to get off of the moon might be where things could go wrong. And it wasn’t as if I wasn’t accustomed to being confined for hours on end. I’d already spent enough time on bathyscaphes to know what was coming. Knowing engineers and current technology as I did, it wasn’t a stretch to assume that one would simply plug in the coordinates and let the device do the rest. I could actually sleep part of the way there. But that was a best guess. Only time and actual exposure would prove if that were true.

  I had to get back to sleep. I had some serious planning to do in the days ahead.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I’m not sure why I kept hearing the name Prometheus in my mind, but it kept on repeating over and over again. I had moved to the new module across from Ted. It was spacious enough that I had to appreciate the additional room. But for what it offered on the convenience side, it was also to be a prison cell of sorts. In some manner, Ted would monitor my coming and going. But even with that, and knowing his seemingly limited capabilities, I doubted if he had the skill to set up a close circuit monitor. And even if he did, I’d find a way to disable it or to keep it from recording my activities. He might think he had control over me, but I knew I had the upper hand. I even thought that I’d keep up the appearance of being the obedient repentant worker. You know...so that Ted would have no reason to suspect that I was about to make a disappearing act happen in a matter of days.

  Once I was settled, and Ted went with my crew to the job site, I went into the adjoining module where the aluminum footlocker was being stored. I made careful note of how it had been constructed. The digital lock on the side appeared to be the only means for opening it. There were no exposed hinges or other possible points of entry. That meant that I would either need to decipher the entry code or else snoop around Ted’s quarters until I found it. I could only assume his iPad would be the most logical first place to look. Considering the sparse possessions he brought with him, trying to find the entry code shouldn’t be all that difficult. But when I checked Ted’s module door, it was locked.

  With all of that in mind, I knew I had to be on my way. I had to get on the water harvester and begin searching for a launch site. Logically, the shadow side of a crater seemed like the first place to consider. I took off in a direction I had never had the time or inclination to explore. But from the maps I had on hand, I knew a neighboring crater might do the deed. It took half an hour to reach my desired destination. But as I continued driving, that same word kept sounding in my mind. I paused to think back to what I knew about Prometheus. But then it hit me: he was a Titan. In a moment of irony, I recalled that my grandfather had worked on the Titan II project—or, specifically 23G: one of NASA’s early space program launch vehicles. My grandfather was an aerospace engineer working at Martin Marietta. And that was at the time when the U.S. space program was in its infancy.

  But then I recalled that Prometheus stole fire from the Gods to benefit humanity. Then, for that daring deed, they punished him. He was first bound to a rock for eternity and had to endure both the sun’s heat along with freezing winter temperatures (much like the lunar extremes). That alone was sufficient punishment. But once tied to a rock, an eagle would appear daily, and then it would tear out Prometheus’ liver ad infinitum. Hopefully, this was metaphorical and not some sort of twisted prophecy. But it did illustrate the risk I was seriously considering.

  A number of individuals were going to be royally pissed when they found out what I’d done. I had to laugh when I pictured Ted’s face the moment he realized my exploit. If I was able to open the container without damaging it, Ted wouldn’t have a clue what I’d done until one of the executive team members told him. By then, I would be safely on earth and far from his tyrannical clutches.

  With all of that to consider, I decided to call my little adventure “the Prometheus project.” But rather than stealing fire, I would be returning with something equally as valuable. Yes, that’s right. If I had one bargaining chip, it was here all around me hidden in the shadows. If I could bring back a water bottle filled with liquid lunar water, I had something incredibly enticing to offer. If the founder of the corporation that partially funded the resort project wanted in, there were some serious terms to consider. Up until now, he had stayed in the background. From what I knew, Lawther reported directly to the founder. In this instance, and knowing that Lawther was probably stalling or outright hiding the truth, I was planning on going over his head. And if the founder didn’t want to honor my terms, there were at least two other viable firms out there that would and in a heartbeat. And if they weren’t interested, several countries would do anything to have what I had—let alone know what I now knew.

  As I drove around the crater’s edge, I kept envisioning the day when I would return here ready to leave. The escape vehicle would be prepared for my emancipation from corporate slavery. I spent the remainder of the day looking around for the most logical and easily employed launch area. It had to be angled just right. There had to be a ledge of sorts to support the escape vehicle. One would think a place of that description would be easy to find. But despite hours of looking, I still hadn’t found what I was looking for. But maybe I was being too particular. As it was, I had no idea what the defined specs were for a launch site. After all, from what I understood, the escape vehicle had been designed to launch from space and not a fixed location. But as I thought about that further, Ted wouldn’t have brought it with him unless it had been designed for a land-based launch as well.

  When I returned later that day, Ted was waiting for me. He wanted a full and detailed report. I fudged a bit and told him that unless we were a lot closer to the pole, finding enough water ice might prove to be a problem. He didn’t like my answer. Was I sure? Had I done enough research to confirm my findings? He then suggested that he would go online and do some serious research. If I was struggling to identify something that recent surveys were certain was true, he would find a location much closer on his own. Then, I, as the obedient worker, would go there and discover something I already knew existed. But I had to put Ted off as long as I could.

  While we were talking, I kept noticing Ted glancing at his wrist. Despite still having our spacesuits on, it suddenly dawned on me that Ted was wearing a wristwatch/communication device. He must have received a message while we were talking. That seemed to justify his abrupt need to leave and then return to his module. That got me thinking. What if the entry code for the footlocker lock was on his wrist device? That would make sense. You would want it where you could get access to it in a hurry. You wouldn’t want it somewhere less than convenient.

  With that in mind, my next task was sorting out how to get access to it or even if such a thing were even possible? But the more I thought about that, the more impossible that task began to seem. It wasn’t as if I could sneak in while Ted was sleeping. Simply opening the module door would make too much noise. And there was never a moment when once outside the
safe confines of the module that he wouldn’t be in his spacesuit. So that was out. In fact, I began to wonder if this escape plan of mine was disintegrating before my eyes? What if I had no other choice than to break into the footlocker? I could drill out the surface rivets that held the lock in place. As had happened earlier with the distorted modules, a thought appeared in my mind, something that came out of nowhere. The code to open the lock had to be something rapidly accessible. Or, in other words, in the midst of an emergency, and when your mind is in panic mode, you want it to be simple and easy to remember. You know, like your birth date for example.

  Okay, I thought, that’s about as good a place to start as any. Even though it seemed unusually simple or too easy, that was precisely the point. Again, when all hell is breaking down around you, the last thing you need is to be befuddled while trying to remember a five-digit code number. That felt right. I was almost certain it had to be that. My only challenge was trying to get Ted unaware enough to divulge it. How could I trick him into giving me what I needed and needed soon? I was going to sleep on it.

  The moment I returned to my module, I noticed something was wrong: Some of my food rations were missing. I was about to go ballistic. I knew that my crew would never do such an underhanded thing. It had to be Ted. I turned around and decided to make an issue of this obvious intrusion. I banged on Ted’s door. He soon peered out the side window with a curious expression on his face. By that time, he was no longer in his spacesuit. It startled me to see how skinny he actually was. I tried to mimic eating as I kept raising my hand to my face shield. Ted, however, simply shook his head and then motioned for me to go back to my quarters. The bastard. I knew he had done it. I knew, without a doubt, that Ted was going to systematically try to weaken me by denying my normal portion of food. It was classic. It was a barbaric example of the recent past that was used to subdue a certain population. I was on to his games, but I had to beat him first before he won.

  My sleep was restless that night. I hated conundrums. But it was even worse when I felt I had the answer but couldn’t do anything about it. How in the hell was I going to find our Ted’s birth date? Knowing him as well as I now did, there was little likelihood that he would simply tell me. There had to be another way.

  The following morning, and when I had just come out ready for the day, D was waiting for Ted outside the airlock. As far as I knew, he and I were still on the same communication frequency. But I had to choose my words precisely. I nodded toward Ted’s module and simply said to D, “Birth date...get it.” D glanced at me curiously, as I tried to emphasize my glance at Ted’s module. I kept nodding at it hoping that D would sense the urgency—which, fortunately, he seemed to finally grasp. He slowly nodded at me and then motioned for me to get going; Ted was just about to emerge from the airlock. I managed to get far enough away to keep Ted unaware of my actions. But as I did, and as I made my way to the water harvester, I began having second thoughts. Instead of Ted’s birthday, what if it was that of his wife’s or even his mother’s? But that concern was soon erased. I stopped to think that the average guy is lucky if he can remember his wife’s birthday let alone the date of their anniversary—but especially without some sort of outside reminder. My hunch had to be correct.

  I have never been one to waste time. I could have spent my time endlessly driving around. But with the sensors on the water harvester going off whenever I reached a shadowed location, I decided to begin mapping each area that held potential. It was a micro survey that would bolster the overview mapping that had been done previously by satellite. It would provide direct evidence that water ice was far closer to the settlement than realized. But as each hour went by and I continued to make notes, I couldn’t help thinking about the moment I would be freed from this interminably confining situation. But as I did—and I had to acknowledge that when you are too close to a situation you often miss the obvious—it suddenly dawned on me: the water harvester could easily act as a mobile launch pad. Not only would it carry the escape vehicle but also support it when it was time for launch. I don’t know why I didn’t realize that until now. But now that I had, it seemed far too easy. My only concern was if D could find out Ted’s birth date. But knowing D as I do, he’s about as resourceful as anyone I’ve ever known. If anyone could find out, it would be D.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It wouldn’t be until later that day when I found out that a serious incident had happened on the job site. Knowing that morale was at an all-time low, I wasn’t surprised. When the present conditions continued to grow worse, it was nearly predictable that unfortunate things could and would begin to happen. Focus is off; the mind goes elsewhere; resentment tries one’s soul. Ted hesitated to admit that he had forced Raphael into both an unrealistic and dangerous situation. When he told me, I was both horrified and furious. I demanded details. “What happened to one of my men,” I shouted. Ted backed up warily and said that there was still a problem. Evidently, Raphael had done something I feared would happen: he had tried to link two parts of the beam infrastructure together at the most tentative point. It was at the central axis where all of the beams were to connect like the spokes of a wheel. But as I’d conjectured, the beams in question either couldn’t support Raphael’s weight or perhaps his movements. Whatever the case, and once Ted admitted the truth, Raphael was still out there dangling like a helpless spider. The only thing keeping him from near-disaster was the tether he had clipped to one of the beams. The rest of my crew were there and were trying to sort out a viable solution.

  The only issue was the oxygen time remaining. I knew we would be racing against the clock. I yelled at Ted and said I didn’t care what came next as far as some sort of punitive action; I was going to go help my men. I drove the water harvester as fast as its wire mesh wheels would allow. But when I got to where I could get a quick assessment of the situation, it was far worse than envisioned. The security tether had wrapped around Raphael’s leg and waist. Considering his feeble attempts to get free, it was clear he was now in a desperate situation. D and the others were gathered beneath Raphael gazing up at him. I drove up next to them and got out. D soon informed me that he and the crew had already tried a number of solutions that, unfortunately, seemed to have made matters worse. And with time running out, there was little point in asking what they had already tried.

  As I gazed up at Raphael, the first thought that came to mind was that one of us would have to shimmy out on the beams that were sturdy enough to hold them and then toss Raphael another line. That way, whoever was there, could pull Raphael toward them and to a far safer location. I must confess that heights and I aren’t on the same page. In fact, if I’m completely honest, I avoid them until I have no other choice. And this was one of those situations; I had to do something I wouldn’t want one of my men doing. So I asked D to get me another nylon climbing rope. He balked for a moment at my suggestion but I told him it didn’t appear as if there was another way. Besides, time was running out.

  I then had D elevate me on the lift rover to its fullest extension. I clambered up onto the existing superstructure and then began climbing. I kept telling myself to not look down. I gazed up and then identified the most logical place to get positioned. But even with that, one wrong step and two of us would be in untenable situations—something I didn’t dare think about. I knew from previous experience that mental rehearsal is just as valid as the actual thing. So I kept visualizing securing the rope to one of the metal girders and then successfully tossing the other end to Raphael. I envisioned his grabbing the rope and then pulling him toward me as I steadied him.

  Every step I took demanded every ounce of my strength. Every breath I took consumed valued oxygen. Time is odd in situations like this. When you are under the gun, it feels as if what you are doing takes twice as long as expected. Even though that might not have been accurate, my slow, arduous pace was beyond frustrating. Once again, I shifted my focus on what I was about to do. I kept going over the next steps as if they were
actually happening.

  By the time I finally reached what felt like a safe but reasonable distance, I clipped my harness to the beam in front of me. I felt like a rodeo cowboy as I slowly began whipping around the gathered rope in preparation to throw it. D had been coaching Raphael and had explained what I was about to do. Peering at Raphael’s somewhat limp body was disconcerting. From what I could tell, he had already spent considerable energy trying to get out of a worsening situation. My only hope was that he had enough reserve energy to complete the task.

  Using an underhand throw, I launched the spiral of rope toward Raphael. Unfortunately, he and the end of the rope didn’t connect. The rope dangled worthlessly beneath me. I slowly wound it up. But as I did, I was overwhelmed by a profound sense of urgency. I knew our oxygen would soon run out. This time, I aimed higher. If the first attempt came up short, I needed to take a loftier trajectory. And when I did and Raphael reached out, he caught the end of the rope just before it almost slipped out of his grasp. I wanted to tell Raphael what to do next but soon realized that I wasn’t hearing his voice or that of the others. I gazed for a moment toward the distance only to conjecture that Ted had just cut off my communication link. Despite that, I had to do what I could to help Raphael draw closer toward me. Fortunately, Raphael had enough experience to quickly attach the rope to his harness. I began slowly pulling on the rope. But while I did, I kept gazing up at the misshapen beam that was currently supporting Raphael’s weight. I was concerned that if I was too forceful or jerked on the line that the beam might give way.