Moon Walk

Written by:

Todd Jones

8368 Orhan St.

Canton, MI 48187

(734) 254-0284

tjones@myriadminds.com

Copyright 2003

Acknowledgements

You know how you collect things from your childhood and how they seem to follow you from place to place through the years for no conscious reason. Well, I was rummaging through some boxes shortly after I moved into my first house in 2000 and found just such an item. It was a photo album encyclopedia of the moon that my father bought for me when we visited NASA in Florida sometime in the mid 70s. I couldn't help but read the book from cover to cover, right there among the dust covered boxes. The memories of that starry eyed boy, dreaming of traveling to the moon, inspired me to write this tale. So, I dedicate this story to my father, Steve Jones, and the good memories he has given me over the years.

Chapter 1

Jared lurched awake, screaming his late wife’s name. His sweat-laden brow slammed into the unforgiving hull of the small spacecraft’s ceiling. "Damn it," he groaned. Jade’s fear etched face slipped into his subconscious.

Jared had taken the last of the “Sure Sleep” pills, but even they could not suppress the nightmare any longer. “I never should have used her theta waves,” he thought for the thousandth time since the nightmare started. ”The X15's hyper-fiber processor was never designed to process human thought and ELF magnetic patterns.”

Jared shook his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bunk. He slowly got to his feet. “There was no other way,” he said to himself. “At least I saved a part of her.” A throbbing pain settled in his head, like a splinter under his thoughts. The robot would never be her, could never be her, he knew that, but it was his last hope.

He was so close to fulfilling their dreams; the latest beryllium find, could be ‘the one.’ If he stopped now, Jade’s death would be for nothing. Jared worked through another night and his bloodshot eyes ached under the slits of their lids. He strained to focus.

Jared leaned into edge of the sink for support and stared into the mirror. If he thought he felt haggard, it was nothing compared to how he looked. His obsession was apparent in his matted hair, stubble-ridden face and myriad bags that rimmed his eyes. The long hours, lack of food and excessive stress had even caused him to flinch.

"You look like crap," he said. Thinking out loud was a habit he had picked up from years of working in space. The sound of his voice broke the eerie stillness that threatened to engulf him; as it seemed to do everything in space. The moon was about as desolate as one could get and none of the robots had not been equipped with voice modulation units, nor programmed to be conversationalists; something he would rectify on future models. The moon was a place to get away from everything: the corporate lies surrounding his wife’s death; the reporters that wanted a scandal; the family members that wanted to talk through the pain; and Jade’s body. All he wanted to do, all he needed to do, was finish the project they had started so many years ago together.

Jared shook several green pills out of an unlabeled bottle and popped them into his mouth; washing them down with day old coffee he found in a cup. The liquid was cold, yet his throat was thankful for the lubricant. He tossed the plastic mug into the sink and headed to the control room.

The lunar craft served as a makeshift laboratory and housing unit; not very luxurious, sparse in amenities compared to the newer JX6000 models, but practical, and cheap. Frugality was something Jared had to consider since the corporate investors had pulled out and Jade’s life-insurance and their patent money was exhausted. Jared shuffled to the control room, wading through robotic equipment that littered the floor, chairs and practically every inch of the lunar craft. He passed reels of micro-fiber wire, piles of silicon nano-transistors and other computer debris. A miniature hydraulic pump caught his pant leg and nearly toppled him head-over-heel into the control room.

Jared plopped his 81.5 Kilo, 1.9 meter frame into the form-fitting chair at the master console and a holographic display module flickered into life. A three-dimensional depiction of Jade appeared and Jared could not help but smile. “You were the only one who ever truly believed in me, my love,” he whispered. Jared reached out and let his fingers run through Jade’s image. She was taller than him and sturdy enough to hold her own against any of her mining crew in a scrap. Still, there was a delicate aura about Jade, a softness that was apparent to Jared when he stared into her hazel eyes. He fell in love with her the first time he saw her. Her silky, brown hair bounced about her shoulders with an alluring wildness as the depiction simulated a light breeze.

Jared’s smile faded when his eyes settled on the sin wave display of Jade’s theta brain frequency. The ELF waves bounced between 4-8Hz, a range which Jared had isolated while she was still alive. They signaled Jade’s ideal creative and insightful thought process. It was these thought patterns that Jared programmed into the X15’s analytical processor.

Jared sighed heavily as thoughts of a life gone by flashed through his mind. He had been a robotic-engineering specialist for the leading international mining corporation, when he met Jade. He dreamed of utilizing mechanical miners to work in environments that would be difficult or too hazardous for people. His theories and experimentation had earned him respect in his field and funding to continue his research in what he termed the, “Moon Walk” project. Jade was assigned to the project as Jared’s technical field representative and they hit it off immediately; getting married within the year. They embodiment of that dream. And it had Jared was a workaholic by necessity. Cutbacks, layoffs, money hungry conglomerate bastards were often the first grumbling words that emanated from his mouth each morning, and sometimes the last words he uttered before passing out from exhaustion. Sleep was his salvation, after Jade had passed, or at least it was until the nightmares had started.

The project had teetered on the verge of collapse since shortly after its first year. Without the big-money investor there would be no project. Jared knew that, but it didn't make the way they gouged the profits for the lion's share any easier to swallow. The project, his life's work, was on its last leg and he had to do something.

Jared had found a glimmer of hope just over a year ago, when the robots reported marginal mineral deposits. Since then, the project had been riddled with disaster after disaster. Remote diagnostics could not pin-point the difficulty. Jared needed to see what was going on first hand.

Jared began his daily log, "The mining robots have been experiencing excessive difficulties excavating the inner sanctum of the moon. There is nothing new in that, but late last night, or rather early this morning, one of the 'bots, X15, reported a breakthrough. Unfortunately, shortly there after I lost link-up with the unit. There seems to be an unusual amount of lunar static in the region and this must be contributing to the communication issues."

"Are you talking to me?" The computer squelched in a high-pitched male voice. The voice reminded him of a young zit faced geek with one of those propeller hats. It, like nails on a chalk board, grated on Jared's nerves.

"Who the hell else would I be speaking to out here?"

Jared had found space to be refreshingly quiet. Other than the computer, Jared had nobody to talk to. Not that he really minded, since it gave him time to think, but the utter silence was spooky at times.

"Incoming transmission," the squeaky voice chimed in.

"Put it-"

"Jared, are you there?" A gruff authoritative voice bellowed.

Jared sighed. It was James Hamilton, CEO of Hamilton Enterprises that caused him to involuntarily roll his eyes. Hamilton's ranting were all he needed to hear right now.

"The computer shows your presence onboard, so answer you ungrateful little weasel," Hamilton roared over the speaker.

"Yeah, I'm here," Jared snapped, contemplating whether telling them about the breakthrough would even make a difference at this point.

"Where is my daily update?"

"Where are my parts?"

"Don't you talk back to me, or I'll come up there and wring your little neck."

Jared rubbed his forehead, trying not to let Hamilton get to him. But he always did.

"We'll send you the parts as soon as you fill out the proper paperwork and…"

It was the same line Jared had heard for months now; it didn't matter how much or how many times he filled out the stupid forms, supplies and additional assistants were not allocated. Jared would never get used to how the corporate misers promised him state of the art equipment, but never came through. With all the red-tape to get anything ordered, he would rot on the moon before anyone who could actually help him even read his requisition forms.

"I got your request forms right here." Jared grabbed his crotch.

"Send them through and we will forward them to the appropriate supply facility."

Jared couldn't help but chuckle, he had become very sarcastic over the last six months with the company he once held as his savior. Obviously his sarcasm was lost on them. He knew the forms had nothing to do with his requests going through or not. The company had given up on him and his dream. It was empty promise after empty promise. No wonder he couldn't meet any of the deadlines, "they" wouldn't let him. Where was his team? Where were his much needed parts? The last thing he received was a discontinued maid robot, which he promptly disassembled for parts and a mentally impaired AI (Artificial Intelligence) assistant that some rookie college intern must have programmed between getting his boss' suits cleaned.

"With all we have done for you, funding your butt on this project, getting you on the cover of Engineering Times…"

Jared let Hamilton ramble; he had learned to tune the man out. Ever since the funding started to dry up, Jared couldn't stand the man. Even thinking about the two lousy sentences on Jared in Engineering Time, among the Hamilton Industries hype, brought back his headache. Why did they deserve respect and praise? All they were doing was fronting the capital. He was the brain behind the project. The Moon Walk project was his baby, not theirs.

"My baby," Jared let slip from his thoughts.

"What was that? Your baby! That is a laugh." Hamilton seized the opportunity to continue his berating of Jared along a new avenue. "The same project that you so eloquently refer to as, 'your baby' is billions over budget. You little worm. I will have your head when you get back here!"

"If you had half the brains…" Jared whispered.

"Your summary. My inbox. Within the hour," Hamilton barked.

"I'm in the middle of-"

"Within the hour. No excuses!"

"But-"

"Don't tempt me or I'll leave your useless butt up there." The director cut the line, before Jared could respond.

The vein in his temple throbbed. Jared was definitely awake now. "Hamilton, you blood-sucking leech, I will show you. Leave me up here to rot, screw you," Jared spat. He would pull this project together, his project, not theirs. He still had some scrap parts left. He would get at least one more robot functioning before tonight. He was so close.

"Transmission terminated," the computer said in its best imitation of an excited tone, which came out as monotone as all its other intonations.

"SHUT UP, you stupid piece of…"

Jared slammed his fist down on the manual log file RECORD button, almost sending the button through the console.

"The hell with the reports, I'm suiting up to investigate the dig site."

Jared ran his fingers through his hair and down the nape of his neck, leaning back in the chair he tilted his head and let a heavy sigh escape his lips. "This is it."

"It's now or nev-"

THUD

"What the hell?" Jared almost toppled from his chair at the sudden sound that reverberated through the ship.

THUD

The sound repeated; closer, louder and more forceful.

"Where is that coming from?" He sprang from his chair, knocking over a pile of rocks he had successfully determined held absolutely no monetary value whatsoever.

"The source of the disturbance is emanating from outside the ship," the computer answered.

"No fake," Jared snapped, peering through a porthole. "It's a freaking rhetorical question?"

THUD

Metal on metal, the sound came again like the hull of the ship was being battered by something. Jared ran to the entrance hatch. Still nothing!

THUD

Something large slammed against the hatch's porthole where his face was pressed tight against.

"HOLY-" Jared stumbled backward, his feet becoming tangled as he tried to back peddle. The air pushed from his lungs as he struck the floor.

"Some…something is…is out there," He panted.

"Do you wish the hatch opened?" The computer chirped.

"Are you nuts?"

"Is that one of those rhetorical questions you were speaking of?"

Jared rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. He decided right there that when he made it back home he would make it a point to wring the little geek's neck that programmed the ship.

Jared tried to think, but his mind was numb. "What the hell could be out there?"

THUD

"Fuck me," He squealed, a bit too high pitched for his bravado to stand it any longer. His brain finally kicked in and he realized he hadn't been breathing. That taken care of, he moved on to the next logical step; getting up.

Something slammed into the porthole again, but Jared still couldn't get a good look at it. He took a deep breath and held it. Nervous curiosity outweighed his better judgment and reached for his space-suit. His lungs felt like they would burst, but he held fast. The outer hatch opened and he stepped out.

The banging had been replaced with an utter silence that only space could hold. His hand shook in the hermetically sealed glove as he clutched a fully charged tazer.

Nothing. He scanned the area and everything appeared as it should be; still and quiet. Jared stepped further from the ship and punched in the proximity sensor activation sequence on his suit's forearm control. Immediately a translucent circular diagram appeared on the inside of his visor marking the ship and his position clearly. Still nothing!

Then suddenly a blip shot across the screen from his right. He turned and caught a glimpse of something metal coming in fast. Jared fumbled the tazer as the bulky suit lagged behind his movements.

Thump!

The sound echoed deafening inside his helmet with such force that he thought the visor would shatter. The ground rushed up as if to swallow him, and he collapsed, unable to even moan in defiance. Something large loomed over him, but he could not make it out. Jared was falling into blackness more profound than anything he had ever experienced before.

"Leave him!" Jared heard a deep grumbling voice echo in his head-but even before it finished, the voice and the shadow that loomed over him faded out.

* * * * *

Jared awoke to a relentless throbbing in the back of his neck and the tinny voice of the computer crackling through his helmet's speaker. He sat up quickly, too quick to properly collect himself, and blackness threatened to close in on him once again. He held on to consciousness and slowly got to his feet.

"Air supply at twenty five percent capacity," the computer chimed.

"What happened?" Jared tried to rub his neck, but the bulky space-suit limited his range of motion.

"Sensory scan shows no activity other than your own."

Jared surveyed the area, "Nothing looks out of the ordin-"

His mind sped into action and he started to remember what had happened. He had heard a voice, hadn't he? And then there was a robot, wasn't there? Yes, definitely and something very familiar about that robot, but what?

A blip on his proximity sensor startled him from his thoughts. He turned instinctively toward the source; his senses still shaky. There was the robot that had struck him. It was one of his; a mining robot. And strangely enough it had resigned itself to moving in a small circle flailing its arms about approximately fifty paces from him. The robot must have blown a logic circuit, Jared thought.

The scene reminded him of one of those old "Lost in Space" episodes where the robot, profoundly named, "Robot" would do stupid actions like this. The only thing that was missing was the familiar, "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!"

A chuckle escaped his lips. Another shortly followed, until he had erupted in laughter; the kind of laughter that comes from someone who has been up too long and slips into a slap-happy state. It was a laughter that hurt like hell, but one Jared could do nothing to stop until it ran its course.

"A touch of the old 'Space Madness', I guess," Jared said to himself. He knew all about the textbook symptoms of prolonged outer space travel and how an overzealous imagination could get the best of one. He felt foolish. Paranoia had been getting the best of him ever since he had arrived on the moon. He was on the edge, like someone was watching him. It was a ridiculous theory, he knew, but at times he couldn't suppress it.

"The X12 robot has malfunctioned and will need a thorough logic circuit diagnostic run." Jared spoke into a micro-recorder built into the helmet of his environmental suit.

"Remote processing initiated," replied the oh-too-familiar squeaky voice of the computer.

"What a joke," Jared chuckled to himself.

"Processing…"

"Getting all worked up over-"

"Log file recorded."

Jared's neck was sore, but otherwise he would survive. Sleep would do him good. Just two hours and he'd be back to himself he thought as he headed back inside the ship…