Tranquility's Heirs

Tranquility's Heirs

Part Four

Kris ventures into the heart of the moonbase

This science fiction novel was originally written many decades ago. The computers may be described as AI but that term did not exist back then. Let's be kind. There is very little sex and only minor nudity, so it can't be described as erotic. But it is a love story that builds over time. All characters are over 18 years old. All rights reserved by the author.

Recap; allowed access the landing bays, New Ranger's crew is planning their next more. Kris has been given permission to visit the community level in search of medical supplies.

* * * * * *

Chapter 4

AMBUSH!

Several kilometers to the west, three moonwalkers struggled to place a sled underneath their crippled shuttlecraft. The procedure wasn't going well, the tripod sling unable to raise the shuttle from the gravelly bed.

"Without another meter for clearance, this fucking thing ain't goin' no place," Mike grunted through the intercom. "Can we hike the apex another notch or two?"

"Michael? Why don't you just admit you don't know how to operate the lift?" Valerie asked in exasperation.

"Never admit the obvious, honey," he answered.

They made another inspection of the shuttlecraft's front end where the nose bent into the hillside, probing for a way to make space for the sled. Occasionally, they'd pause to gaze out over the plains of Mare Tranquillitatis to the south and west, the vast rolling landscape dotted by craters and rills.

"I'm sure we've got the right idea," Kris said. "Making the apex a little higher might help, but we still need more draw from the pulley. Either that or get shovels and start digging."

"Hell, it'll take two days to trench this out!" Mike said. "How about rigging a drag cable? We can lift her rear end with a jack and yank her backward with a tow line."

"Might work, if you don't mind starting from scratch," Kris said.

"Damn it! Got any better ideas?" Mike asked.

"There were several other tractors in the landing bay garage. Maybe we can find one with a more powerful wrench?" Valerie suggested.

"I'm not making any unnecessary treks," Mike complained. "I hate those airlocks. It's like we're being watched or something."

"But if we need the equipment, the trek won't be unnecessary," Valerie said impatiently. "And there's nothing wrong with the airlocks. An extra couple hours on the surface isn't going to hurt you."

"We're wasting our time," Mike said. "Regardless of what we do, this bird will never fly again. Bottom's all torn up."

"You're the one wasting our time," Kris said. "We're lucky she's intact at all. The sentinel said the ship's repairable and I agree. Now if we aren't going to drag her out of this pit today, we may as well pack up our supplies and go back for more gear."

"Yeah, okay. No reason to get huffy. You're the one getting all the special privileges," Mike said.

"Hush up, Michael. You're being rude," Valerie scolded.

"Fry my ass," he growled.

"You two fight it out," Kris said, anxious to escape the crossfire. "I'll climb up top and start handing stuff down."

"That's a good idea," Valerie agreed, kicking moon dust on Mike's boots and turning her back on him.

Kris scrambled up the side of the shuttlecraft and disappeared into the upper airlock, reappearing a moment later with several containers.

"What should we bring in first?" Kris asked.

"Food! I'm not eating anything I don't recognize," Mike said.

Kris laughed and attached a line on the refrigerated food unit, preparing to lower it down the side of the shuttle, but a visual disturbance on the horizon caught her attention.

"Mike! Val! Look!" Kris called out, pointing to the east.

Not obvious at first, a moving dust cloud gradually shimmered above the ridge. Within minutes, a heavy six wheeled tractor rolled over the top of the slope and down toward their position, coming to a halt near the crashed shuttle. The glistening silver figure of the sentinel was visible in the cab.

"Greetings, humans," the sentinel announced with a strong transmission signal, jumping to the ground with a thick bounce. "This unit has been informed of your logistics problem."

"Nothing we can't handle," Mike said.

"But we appreciate your help just the same," Valerie immediately added. "We're not getting enough lift."

"Unsurprising," the sentinel said, walking slowly around the tripod with evident disapproval while Kris and Valerie tagged behind.

"Mike was saying a drag cable might give us more lift," Valerie suggested. "Maybe we can--"

"Silence human," the sentinel instructed.

"God, I wish you'd said that an hour ago," Mike chimed in.

"I don't think we need to start over," Kris said, following the sentinel closely. "Maybe we can just reposition the tripod a little?"

Without comment, the sentinel ducked under the sling to examine the braces, then suddenly began to kick the lowest tripod in a fashion that seemed most unwise. Kris jumped back, holding her breath as the apparatus shifted.

"The structure is sound," the sentinel announced, crawling out from under the hull. "Repositioning the tripods will be unnecessary. There's a rolling jack and station block in the T.L.V. I shall place a lift under the main thruster housing, then swing your craft through a teetering-V onto the sled with the wench. The operation will take forty-seven minutes."

"Sure it won't take forty-eight?" Mike asked, flinching as Valerie slapped him on the helmet.

Forty-two minutes later, the shuttlecraft was safely mounted on the sled ready to be secured. Even Mike had to admit the sentinel's method worked better than anything he would have thought of, and faster than predicted. Apparently the sentinel hadn't expected help, nor especially wanted any. Nevertheless, Kris made a nuisance of herself by insisting on a team effort. Eventually, much to her satisfaction, the sentinel let her and Mike stabilize the wench and guide pulleys.

Valerie gladly retired to a large rock and watched from a distance, studying the sentinel's movements, wondering what sort of mechanism could explain such unique agility. Long before they finished, she knew, right down to the gender and approximate age. Not a bad disguise, she thought, though hardly sophisticated enough to survive prolonged observation.

Valerie decided to say nothing of her discovery until speaking with Laureen. In retrospect, she realized McKinsey must already know. But how long had she known? Had she kept the terrible secret locked away for many years? Valerie intended to find out, but in the meantime, the awkward interaction between Kris and the sentinel was amusing to watch.

"Secure the couplings and clear for towing," the sentinel announced, telescoping the last of the tripod mount. "Use the T.L.V., it has more power than that trash hauler you brought."

Mike chafed as Valerie laughed. She had warned him the survey tractor was too light.

"Thanks for the help," Kris said, unclipping her end of the sling and emerging from the other side of the shuttle.

But the sentinel was gone. Without a word, their host had bounced up the ridge toward the base at high speed, a wispy trail of dust kicked from the rock-strewn hillside.

"See you later," Kris said with barely a backward glance, accelerating up the hill in the sentinel's wake. Mike watched them for a minute, then began securing the couplings. To make amends, Valerie jumped down to help.

"What is that thing? It's not like any robot I ever saw," Mike said. "And what's with Kris?"

"I don't know. It's not even spring," Valerie said with a suppressed smile.

"Not what?"

"Are you going to work or talk, honey? I thought you wanted to get back early."

"That I do," he agreed, patting her backside through the heavy walker. "Maybe this time we'll get some sleep."

"No trapeze this time?" she smirked.

By the time Kris reached the top of the hill and worked her way around the solar collectors, she saw little chance of catching the sentinel. For something so clumsy looking, it moved with incredible speed, each skipping bounce exploiting forward momentum with maximum efficiency.

"Hey! Wait!" Kris called out.

The sentinel continued at a steady pace down through the shallow flat, then cut to the northeast, taking advantage of a natural path to climb the slope. Kris didn't give up, pressing her pursuit until she was feeling the stress on her e.s. system. When the sentinel finally paused at the top of a flat ridge, Kris smiled and hurried to catch up, only to frown as the sentinel took off again.

They soon crossed over another ridge, bypassed landing bay major, and skirted the shattered control tower before climbing a gentle hill where the White Towers were perched upon a knoll below the towering cliff. Several times the sentinel slowed down, giving Kris hope, but then sped up again, as if testing her endurance. Kris was determined not to fail.

After a final breathless sprint, Kris reached the entrance to the White Towers where the sentinel waited for her, the wide veranda providing a panoramic view of Tranquility and the surrounding area.

"Pretty fast, aren't you?" Kris wheezed, boosting her oxygen level still higher.

"Affirmative," the sentinel replied with a labored tone.

"What are we doing now?"

"Resting."

"Then what?" she asked. "Can we explore the White Towers? I've read about the museum on National Geographic. And the towers are the tallest inhabitable structures on the moon."

"I have no use for them," the sentinel responded.

"What do you mean?"

"The White Towers serve no useful function," the sentinel explained. "Observation is better from the cliff. The external structure is unacceptably exposed. The Towers are scheduled for demolition."

"But they're beautiful!" Kris protested. "Everybody knows about the White Towers! They're like the Eiffel Tower or Pinnacle of Freedom! You can't destroy them!"

"At ease, human," the sentinel commanded. "The towers will not be harmed. Threatening to demolish them is a traditional initiation for newcomers to Tranquility. A rite of passage."

The sentinel turned to scan the plains west of the colony, the crest of Plinius barely visible on the far horizon. To the south, Jansen highlighted the road to the Apollo landing sites, the areas now fenced off historical landmarks. The planet Earth loitered high above them, the vivid colors contrasting with the star speckled backdrop.

"I didn't know it would be like this," Kris sighed. "I thought the moon was just a big dry rock in space dotted by a few dilapidated bunkers."

"Why did you come?" the sentinel asked.

"Had to. Wanted to, I guess. I couldn't stay behind with Val and Mike coming. Besides, there's not much left for me back there." Kris discovered the sentinel observing her and felt somewhat embarrassed. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I'm sure it can't be of much interest."

"This unit is programmed for a wide variety of interests," the sentinel said, turning from the railing. "Come. Visit the White Towers you have traveled so far to see."

They entered the ground floor through a wide arch to find a unique open environment museum, the marble rotunda decorated with murals, display cases and artifacts.

"Our exhibition hall at M.I.S.T. has one of these," Kris said, leaning over a relief map of the colony. The detailed map showed the rocky spur called Tranquility Ridge that angled south from the mineral rich crater Vitruvius. On the west side of the spur, the White Towers complex and various support applications filled the area below the cliff. On the east side, a biosphere, observatory and auxiliary power station were located beyond a secondary rill. Crowning Tranquility Ridge, a small fortress was armed with VLM silos and guardian launchers. Roads spread out from the colony in all directions, the gravel highways accessing a web of connecting facilities.

"I knew Tranquility was the capital of the moon, but I had no idea it was such an industrial center, too," Kris said.

"Tranquility is still the capital of the moon," the sentinel said.

On the wall behind her, Kris admired the famous Holbern presentation of the first Apollo moon landing, the multi-dimensional depths so enticing she could almost walk in and hold the ladder for astronaut Armstrong. Nearby, a picture of her father accompanied a photovision of the colony though various stages of construction, the sequence beginning in 2026 when the first underground cavern was carved.

The display cases set against the walls held ticket stubs and souvenirs from the legendary '40 Lunar Olympics along with casts of notable footprints and relics of historic events. Kris laughed when she found the great Golden Boulder of Vitruvius locked tightly behind an impressive theft-proof screen, wondering how anyone could expect to steal a twelve-kilogram gemstone from the moon.

The layout of the museum was so casual, the arrangements so familiar, that Kris forgot she was viewing the exhibits from a walker until she followed the sentinel out through the rear portico.

"Now where are we going?" she asked, hustling after her accelerating host.

The open decking behind the White Towers, where tourists had once gathered to gape at the towering ridge, accessed a suspension bridge built over a depression at the base of the cliff. Beyond the bridge, Kris recognized the familiar columned edifice of Lunar Stadium, the multi-purpose facility carved from an outcropping of solid rock. By the time she crossed the bridge and walked through the entrance, the sentinel was already down on the playing field bouncing on the artificial turf.

"Mike would really love this," Kris said, skipping down a long flight of stairs.

"Perhaps, in a few years, he will be able to," the sentinel said.

"In a few years?"

"Tranquility must be reopened. There is much to do."

"Why in a few years?" Kris asked. "Why not now?"

"Inappropriate timing. Had your expedition waited another six months, the situation would be different."

"What situation? You know, I haven't the vaguest idea what's going on here. Why are we limited to the landing bay? Why is security so strict?"

"Explanations are unnecessary," the sentinel said.

"Well, I wish someone would explain it to me!" Kris complained. "Laureen's been a little short on specifics, and I don't think even Valerie knows her plans. At first this was supposed to be a symbolic mission. Visit the moon, return home, show the people space can still be part of our future, but right away things got complicated. The Congress-In-Council tried to block us. Captain Wong was murdered. Every alliance on the planet treated us like threats to their security."

"You are a threat to their security," the sentinel confirmed.

"But why? I don't get it?"

"Your analysis techniques are inadequate," the sentinel observed with a hint of impatience. "Would you have approached a combat mission with such casual gauging of the diplomatic and military ramifications?"

"Maybe you're right," Kris slowly agreed. "Guess maybe I haven't sized up all the players. Until now, anyway."

"A struggle lies ahead, Captain Kris Fairfield," the sentinel grimly warned. "A struggle that will affect humankind for centuries to come. Laureen McKinsey pursues one option, Tranquility pursues another."

"Are you asking me to side against Laureen?" she asked.

"I seek only to answer your question," the sentinel responded. "Come, it's time to return to the landing bay. Colonel Zopek and Doctor Fairfield will arrive soon with your shuttle."

"Glad to hear that. I'm almost out of air," Kris said.

"What!?"

"Yeah, my meter just went O-four. Guess all that extra exertion used up more than my recycler could replenish. Either that or it's damaged."

"Follow! Quickly!" the sentinel ordered.

They climbed back up the stairs, recrossed the bridge, and bounced into the White Towers lobby where a simple code opened the doors of a spacious elevator airlock. Once the doors closed behind them, the elevator began to drop while recallers sucked loose particles off their suits. The chamber filled with a reassuring atmosphere.

"You should have reported the shortage sooner," the sentinel lectured, expediting the life function procedures on yellow alert mode. "Risking environmental malfunction is unwise."

"Guess I forgot to check," she confessed.

"Ridiculous human! Every walker has timers. You must employ your safety features!" the sentinel angrily declared.

"Sorry. Guess we all can't be computers," Kris said.

The sentinel stiffly declined response, remaining silent until the airlock decontamination scanners cleared them for entry.

"Wait here," the sentinel said, stepping cautiously into the foyer.

After heat scanners indicated the area was unoccupied, the sentinel waved Kris on.

The basement staging deck below the White Towers proved to be a group e.v.a. area with dozens of walkers in rotating closets and enough support gear to supply a small army of lunar visitors. Signs posted on the walls provided warnings and instructions for novice moonwalkers.

"After we replace your e.s. unit, we'll descend to the storage level and proceed to the landing bay airlock system," the sentinel said. "You will follow closely, remain silent, and not stop for any reason. If this unit is forced to change course, continue on the designated route."

"Sure, okay," Kris said, concerned because the sentinel was.

The sentinel opened the backpack on her walker and ejected the used e.s. unit, replacing it with a generic substitute. When one of the connections didn't line up properly, the sentinel jury-rigged a feed so quickly that Kris was surprised. For a machine, the sentinel showed a surprising knowledge of procedures necessary only for humans.

"Can I ask why all the fuss'n feathers?" Kris asked.

"Feathers?" the sentinel asked.

"What's got your bug?"

"Identify bug?"

"Whatever is it that worries you? Why all the urgency?"

The sentinel reached into a pouch and pulled out a Remington Four Beam heavy blaster with an activated arming device.

"The Security Computer has initiated red alert function. It may attack without provocation," the sentinel explained.

"That's pretty crazy. Why hasn't it been turned off?" Kris asked.

"Turned off?"

"Yes. Turned off. Deactivated," she said, returning the incredulous glare.

"Captain Fairfield, what good is a security computer that can be arbitrarily deactivated?" the sentinel asked.

"Not much, I guess," she admitted. "But it's not supposed to malfunction, either. Must make a real mess of things."

"Security can be challenging at times," the sentinel seemed to agree. "Now follow closely. Feel authorized to use the sidearm you've been keeping in your tool bag, but only if necessary."

Without looking back, the sentinel bounced slowly through the wide staging area toward a steep ramp labeled SL-1. Kris unlatched the clasp of her tool bag and followed, embarrassed by the weapon she'd thought so cleverly hidden.

____________

Above landing bay major, Valerie and Mike parked New Ranger on the elevator platform and rode down with the shuttle through the multi-chambered airlock system. Anxious to be free of their stuffy walkers, they left the shuttlecraft parked in the receiving hanger and bounced into the ground crew locker room.

"It's great to be free again!" Mike exclaimed, jumping lightly in his padded underwear. "What should we do with these walkers? They're looking pretty beat up."

"We can check them in with the service computer. The automated systems will shake them out for us," Valerie said.

"Don't know if I'd trust a machine doing my shakedown," Mike said. "These systems here are pretty old. What if they screw up?"

"Michael, will you look around you?" Valerie said. "The landing bay is fully active. The tractors work. The life support system functions. We even have clean sheets to sleep on."