Fantasy Making of a Starship Captain

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[Note: This Science Fiction story is an intense character study with occasional sex scenes.]

Disaster on the Moon​

Mike became a senior in high school. His Survey Service exam was looming in just a few weeks. He had been studying intensively all summer. For the rest of his life he would remember the long nights he put in at the Robolawya control room, lying on the brown carpet while listening to the hum of the consoles under the soft lighting. Hal would talk to him and encourage him and keep him strong; Mike didn't know what he would have done without him.

He could see that Allyson was becoming more and more nervous. She was always checking in with him, seeing how he was doing and asking how his studying was going. He wondered if she really had the answers to the exam. It was looking more and more like she didn't.

Still, she tried to project confidence. She had a whole array of tutors who were making sure she was quite ready for every subject on the exam--physics, math, chemistry, electronics, and everything in between. But even Mike could see that she was increasingly nervous.

One day she came to him and said, "Mike, have you given any thought to going to college instead?"

Michael looked at her curiously. "It's a little late for that now, isn't it, Allyson? I haven't taken any of the right courses for that; I haven't even taken the Social Aptitude Test."

"That doesn't matter. Would you like to go to Harvard?"

Harvard? She meant, of course, the Simon Bolivar Institute of Higher Learning.

"Harvard?"

Allyson nodded. "My Dad can get you in anywhere. Even there. Full tuition, a comprehensive scholarship."

His eyes narrowed. "Why, Allyson?"

Her hand roamed over his arm. "Because... we're friends, and I don't want to see you fail."

Mike pulled his arm away. "Well, thanks for the friendly consideration, Allyson, but my mind's made up."

She frowned at him even as he walked away.

Two days later, Allyson came out of the closet.

She announced she was trisexual. And also trigendered. She demanded the school provide bathrooms for each one of her genders. The school at first refused, saying she could use the boys or girl's bathroom, but Allyson started a one woman (person?) picket line in front of the school, and it was picked up by the local World Government news network. Allyson's rich family threatened to sue the school unless they created a bathroom for trigenders. Before long the school caved in and agreed to fund the creation of a special restroom for trigenders.

Allyson, riding a successful wave of publicity, created the "33 Club", a safe space for trigendered trisexuals. She explained the purpose in a sympathetic interview with the local World Government media syndicate. "For years we have focused on the plight of trisexuals, and trigenders. But no one has ever talked about the special needs of people who are both trigendered and trisexualized. The 33 Club will lobby on behalf of this neglected and sorely abused group."

"What is she doing?" Michael asked.

"What do you think she is doing?" Hal asked. He never answered any of Michael's questions! And yet he was always invaluable in helping Mike sort out his conflicting thoughts. "Mike, do you think that Allyson has suddenly discovered that she is trisexual?"

"No," said Mike flatly. "I think she's worried about the Survey Service exam. I think she's worried she may not do well. She wants another advantage. She thinks that coming out as a trisexual will help her get into the Academy."

"Will it?" Hal asked.

Mike listened to the hum of the consoles for a long moment. The dim, soothing lighting left Hal's face in shadow.

"It might," he said.

It was the morning of the exam. "Are you ready for it?" his mother Sara asked anxiously.

"I think so," said Michael, mechanically eating breakfast.

"Have you been studying for it?"

Michael burst out laughing. "Mom, what do you think I've been doing for the past ten months?"

"We're not sure," said his father. "You disappear, late into the night. Don't think we haven't noticed."

Sara looked at him with concerned eyes. "Where do you go, dear? What are you doing?"

"I'm studying, Mom. Really." He saw the way they looked at him. "I found a... relaxing place. It helps me study."

"I hope you do well, son. I hope you get what you want," said his father.

"Yeah, good luck, kid," said Darden. For once Darden didn't seem to be sarcastic.

He saw Allyson, at the entrance to Malcolm Shabazz. She took a deep breath. "Are you ready, Michael?"

"I think so," said Mike.

Allyson took another deep breath. She was obviously nervous. She gave him an uncertain look which made Mike feel a bit uncomfortable. "Mike... whatever happens... whether you get in, or I get in, or whatever... let's always be friends."

Mike bit his lip and nodded. "Of course. Sure." He was surprised when she gave him a hug. His eyes widened as he felt her soft warmth against his chest.

They went inside. For some reason they were seated in the exam room facing each other, in two desks turned towards each other, just ten feet apart.

Mike was filled with horror. So was Allyson. As the proctor downloaded the exam to special Pads they were given, they vowed to ignore each other, and get to work.

The test was multiple choice, but it was difficult! It was all subjects Mike had studied, but the questions were not exactly what he had expected. He felt overwhelmed, until he felt Ambition give Fear a punch in the face.

Mike looked up, and saw the shock on Allyson's face. She saw the shock on his. They both subtly nodded to each other. A connection of sorts was made. Then they both turned back to their work.

They had a ten minute break at noon. Allyson came over to Mike. "What do you think?" she whispered.

"It's tough," said Mike.

Allyson nodded. "Tougher than I expected!"

"I know!" said Mike, feeling a little better. There were questions on particle physics which he hadn't fully prepared for, hadn't even known that he needed to prepare for. He had had to make some educated guesses.

"Mike... I'm scared," she said, squeezing his hand.

Michael had never seen Allyson like this before. She was so brash, so confident, so outspoken. Suddenly, he felt a special bond with her, a bond created by the tenseness and anxiety of the situation they were both going through together. He said the first words which popped into his head. "It's going to be all right. We're both going to make it."

"We are?" said Allyson.

"Yes," said Mike, sounding confident.

Allyson smiled at him.

The afternoon session was no less brutal. Mike didn't think to look up even once. He gritted his teeth and did the best he could. Whenever Despair raised its head, Determination gave it another punch.

When it was over, Mike and Allyson felt drained. They both went to get an equality beverage at the Bogey Café.

"I don't know what I'll do if I don't make it," said Allyson. "I guess I'll wait a year and reapply to college."

"You'll make it. You're smart," said Michael.

"Not as smart as you," said Allyson.

Mike felt oddly jolted by this admission.

"You're smart. Really smart. We all know that," said Allyson. "You're going to make a great Survey Service officer." This was a totally different tune from her. Previously she had told him that he wasn't temperamentally suited for the Survey Service. Now she acting as if it was practically inevitable.

"We're both going to make good Survey Service officers," said Mike, putting his hand over hers.

"It's so rare for them to choose two people from the same High School," said Allyson, in a pained voice.

Mike looked up into her hazel eyes, and saw the pain, and uncertainty.

"So how do you think you did?" Hal asked.

"I don't know," said Michael.

"You seem calm," said Hal.

"I am calm," said Michael.

"Good. Very good," said Hal, giving him a rare smile.

The scores came out a week later.

"What did you get? What did you get what did you get?" Allyson babbled, getting into Mike's face.

"What did you get?" Mike asked.

"1510," said Allyson. She grabbed his shirt. "Now tell me your score!"

"1510," said Mike.

Allyson's jaw dropped. "No. It couldn't be. Are you being serious?"

Mike nodded.

They had the exact same score.

A 1510 out of 1600 was a respectable score, placing both of them in the top fifth percentile of applicants, that is, scoring better than 95 percent of all those who applied. That was high enough to be admitted, but far from a guarantee of admission.

And Michael Taylor and Allyson Harshbarger had the exact same score.

Mike filled out his application and sent it in. He realized the essay was the most important question: why he wanted to be a Survey Service officer. He wrote, and rewrote and rewrote again, until he thought he had given the perfect answer.

He was nervous the day he showed up at the Boston home of Robert Freston, a retired Survey Service officer who would be interviewing him. Freston smiled and shook his hand warmly, and told Mike a little about himself.

Freston had retired as a first officer on the Deep Space Cruiser Aurora. He had fought in not one but two of the wars with Ramada. He had helped discover dozens of planets, and made contact with four alien species. He had retired at the relatively young age of forty to get married and start a family.

"And so why do you want to join the Survey Service, Mike?" Freston asked.

"It's a life of dedication and duty, of thrill and wonder," Mike began, as he had rehearsed it.

Freston's smile faded. "Yes, I've read your application essay. But tell me, why do you want to join the Service?"

Mike's smile faded. He thought he had crafted the perfect application essay. Even Hal thought it was great when Mike read it to him.

"I... uh...."

"Everyone wants the excitement of joining the Survey Service. Who doesn't? But is there anything special about you, Michael? Any special reason the Service should invest time and money and energy into making you an officer?"

Mike's mind raced. "I... I have to become a Survey Service officer."

"Have to?"

"To pay off a debt."

And then Mike told him the story, how the Survey Service had saved his life and his family's lives when he was seven years old on the Space Liner Arcturus. He told Freston of his conversation with Captain Renton, and how he decided that he had to join the Survey Service.

Freston's eyebrows went higher and higher as Michael told his story. He seemed genuinely impressed. He realized that the young man sitting in front of him didn't want to join the Service out of a whim or a lark; he had had a powerful experience in his formative years which had guided him to this very day, and brought him to Freston's doorstep.

"The Survey Service saved my life. I owe them a lot. Now I want to help others," said Mike.

Freston nodded. But then he frowned and looked stern. "But can you do it? Can you be an officer, in the finest tradition of the Survey Service?"

Mike sat up straight. He looked Freston in the eye. "Yes, I can."

Freston stared at him for a long moment. Then he nodded again. "All right, then."

Four weeks and two days later Mike heard Allyson Harshbarger yelling at the top of her lungs. He saw her dancing down the hallway with an enormous smile.

His heart sunk.

"I did it!" she said, holding up her Pad. "I got in I got in I got in!" She grabbed Mike and gave him a big kiss on the lips. Mike recoiled, startled.

"Did you hear from them, Mike?"

"No," said Michael.

Allyson's grin couldn't get any wider. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mike. But you tried your best.... I'm going to be the greatest officer in Survey Service history! I'm going to be the first trisexual admiral! Ha ha! Got to go!" And she pranced off, wiggling her hips and her ass with her hands waving above her head, yelling at the top of her lungs.

"You didn't hear back yet?" Hal asked. It was two days later.

"No," said Mike. "Since Allyson got in, I don't expect to."

He listened to the hum of the consoles for a long moment.

"So what are you thinking?" Hal asked.

"Probably that they chose Allyson over me," said Mike.

"And what are your plans?"

"I don't know. I could still join the Survey Service as an enlisted man. It might not be so bad," said Mike. But his head drooped as he said it.

"Hey, Mike."

Mike didn't respond.

"Mike, look at me!" said Hal, and his voice had a sharp edge to it.

Mike slowly raised his head.

"You wanted to be a Survey Service officer. It's a career, but it's more than that. It's a way of thinking. Whatever path life takes you, you can still be a Survey Service officer here," and Hal touched his head, "and here" as he pounded his heart, "As long as you live with honor, dignity, and competence."

Mike's eyebrows went up. "I... I never thought of it that way."

"You just did," said Hal, leaning back so that his face was in shadow.

And then the next day, Hal's Pad pinged. He had received an official communiqué from Survey Service Headquarters, from Auburn Field in Perth, Australia. His hands trembled as he looked at the message. Should he open it? He couldn't get himself to do it. He was too nervous.

Mike took a deep breath. Then another. He was still trembling. His heart was pounding. He took another deep breath, and said, to no one in particular, "Here goes nothing." And he tapped the message.

Mike read the message once. Then a second time. Then a third time. And then-

"Mom! Dad! I'm going to join the Survey Service!" he yelled, at the top of his lungs.

His parents couldn't have been prouder of him. Even Dad. "I'm so happy for you, son!" he said, and to Mike's great surprise, his father looked like he was about to break out in tears.

"Thanks, Dad," said Mike, feeling stunned. His mother Sara was already on the holocom, calling the entire extended family, to tell them the good news. "But I thought... I thought...."

"I only wanted you to succeed," said Edwin. "I'll be honest. I didn't think you could do it."

"You didn't?"

"No." Dad shook his head slowly. "I thought you would fall flat on your face, and have no options, not the Survey Service, nor college. But you did it. Through determination and energy and skill you got your act together and you did it. I'm so proud of you, son, so tremendously proud." And he hugged Mike again.

When Dad pulled back, Darden was there, with a curious mix of astonishment and respect in his eyes. "Congratulations, Mike," he said. Mike. And then he leaned forward, and gave Mike a hug!

This was the first hug he had ever gotten from his brother. "I'm proud of you, kid," said Darden softly. He pulled back and looked at Mike. "The next time I call you Captain, it will be for real."

Mike couldn't have been more astonished than if Darden had grown wings and flown out the window. Who had come in the night and replaced his brother with an alien duplicate?

"You'll love Pensacola," said Edwin. "It's on the Gulf Coast, a very temperate climate, very pretty. You have enough money saved, right?"

"I think so. The letter mentioned tuition," said Mike, raising his Pad. He had skimmed over that part of it. But then his eyebrows raised as he read it again.

"What?" said Darden.

"The tuition... it's 2000 credits higher than I expected. I'll... I'll manage. I'll get a part time job-"

"No you won't," said Edwin. "The Academy is going to be the most grueling experience of your life. You will need all your time and energy just to avoid flunking out."

"But Dad, I need to make more-"

"I'll take care of it!" said Edwin firmly.

Mike was stunned. He had lost count of how many times his Father had told him he would never, ever pay for the Academy. He opened his mouth to protest, but his father put a finger over his mouth. "I. Will. Take. Care. Of . It." His father spoke with a determined look in his eye.

Mike nodded slowly. This was a side of his family he had never seen before.

"You just be the best Survey Service officer you can be," said Edwin, and there was a tremor in his voice and he looked about to tear up.

"I will!" Mike sobbed, and he hugged his father tightly.

Things at school were different too. The kids, who had mostly avoided him since his diary had become public, were now friendly. Suddenly everyone was talking to him. It surprised him when several students who had never spoken to him before called him by name. He hadn't been sure they knew his name.

Even Shanice came up to him. Shanice, who he hadn't spoken to since... since....

"Congratulations, Mike," She said, looking at him with dark eyes. "May I hug you?"

Mike nodded wordlessly.

As he felt her large, soft, warm, and slightly black breasts pressed against his chest, she whispered, in his ear, "I'm so happy for you. We all are."

When he pulled back, he looked into her dark eyes. He saw something new there. Perhaps he would have another chance with her. Everything was changing now.

The most surprising reaction of all, however, came from Allyson Harshbarger.

Mike thought Allyson would be excited to hear his news. He was dead wrong.

"Is this a joke?" said Allyson, her face screwing up.

"No, I got in."

"They never admit two people from the same school. Show me."

"Allyson-"

"Show me!" she snapped. She practically wrenched the Pad from his hands as he pulled it out of his satchel. Her jaw dropped as she read it.

"What the fuck?" said Allyson, as Mike winced. She looked up at him. "You did it. You really did it," said Allyson. She looked totally astonished.

"Yes," said Mike. "So I guess that means we'll be going there together-"

"Yeah," said Allyson. "Congratulations, Mike," she said in a flat voice, giving him the most perfunctory of hugs. Then she walked off, looking dazed and confused.

"Why?" Mike asked.

"What do you think?" Hal asked.

Mike was starting to wonder why he came there to ask Hal questions when Hal never gave him any answers. And yet, by turning his questions back on him, somehow Mike found himself able to find answers he couldn't get anywhere else.

In all the years he had been coming to Hal, in the comfy Robolawya control room, he had never asked anything about Hal. Not a single question. Was Hal married? Did he have a family? How had he become the night watchman at Robolawya? Did he like it? What did he do before he came here? Mike had always been so wrapped up in his own problems that he never thought to ask, and Hal didn't seem to mind.

"Logically, since Allyson already got in, she shouldn't have minded that I did too," said Mike. "At that point, we were no longer in competition with each other, at least, not until we get to the Academy."

"And yet, when you told her, she looked like her best friend died."

Mike blinked. He had thought that, but he hadn't told Hal that. He wet his lips. "Yes."

"So?" said Hal, swiveling in his chair slightly.

"She... she's not just competitive. She likes pulling people down. She feels taller when everyone around her is shorter."

"Aptly put, Michael," said Hal.

"But sometimes she's so nice to me! Right before the exam, she said she wanted to be friends-"

Hal punched a button, and the holoimage of a Mark 4 Robolawya appeared in the control room. "Mike, what is that?"

"It's a Robolawya," said Mike.

"What's it made of?"

Mike looked confused. "All... all different things."

"Exactly. It's extremely complex, and filled with all different things. Just like people," said Hal.

The holoimage disappeared.

Mike felt Hal's eyes on him.

"I don't think I told you how proud I am of you, son."

"You don't have to tell me that," said Mike, blushing.

"You're right. You already know it," said Hal, smiling at him.

Traditionally, the Senior Class always went on a trip. Sometimes it was to one of the orbiting space stations. Sometimes it was to Mars, or Venus. This year it was the Moon.

Darden made a face when Mike described the trip. "You're going all the way to the Moon just to look at beaver dicks?"

An archaeological team had discovered a cavern in the Moon which contained fossils of long dead animals, on a satellite which had long been thought to always be lifeless. The fossils in question resembled beavers... except for the size of their sexual organs. The organs in question were actually only about seven or eight inches long, but proportionately speaking, on an animal which was only fifteen inches long, they stood out. Scientists were excited to learn that the Moon had once harbored life, and the digging continued.

"It's not just about beaver dicks," said Mike.

"I hope not," said Darden, giving Mike an odd look.

"I haven't been off planet since we went to Vega."

"And we all know how well that turned out," said Darden softly, giving him a look.

Mike bit his lip and nodded.

"Can't you wait until you're in the Survey Service?"

"The Academy is three years. I don't want to wait that long to get into space," said Mike. "I'm going. So is about a quarter of my class."

"Have fun," said Darden, shrugging his shoulders.

Allyson Harshbarger was going. So was Shanice Robinson, and Nettie Flairs, and other people Mike knew from his class.

The trip was not just about looking at Beaver penises, of course. Their first stop was Luna City, which with over 5,000 inhabitants was a bustling concern. The World Government was trying to exert its control over Luna, issuing regulatory edits and warning the locals against disturbing the "pristine Luna environment" by engaging in "environmentally ruinous" mining.

The locals ignored the World Government, of course; there were highly valuable deposits of selenium, uranium, and other minerals buried under the surface. The locals thought it was hysterical that the World Government was concerned about protecting the "natural environment" when the natural environment on the Moon was a lifeless vacuum. Every time the World Government or its Controlled Media screamed about a new mine shaft, it brought a smile to the face of more than one Lunarian.

But Luna City itself was not impressive. To Mike, it looked like a giant shopping mall. Mike was quickly bored. If he hadn't known that he was on the Moon, he would have been totally uninterested.

He was also equally bored by the Luna City Museum. It featured the lander of the first man on the moon, Neil Armstrong, as well as the spacesuit of the first woman on the moon, Katheryn Janestreet, the helmet of the first black man on the moon, Benjamin Sakso, and the space boots of the first Asian woman on the moon, Hoshi Sakeiko. To Mike, however, these were simply boring relics, as interesting as artifacts of the ancient Egyptians.

But things became more interesting as they started on the long ride from Luna City to Mare Nubium. Mike and the rest of his class who had come to the moon were riding in a space bus with plenty of windows. The space bus operated on two anti grav buffers that let them float a few feet off the surface of the moon. The bus was pressurized but they had to wear space suits, just in case. Mike was pleased that he was among the first to get into his space suit, and he found himself helping more than one fellow student get strapped into theirs. When Shanice said, "Thanks, Mike," as he helped her rig her life support harness, he felt a surge of pride.

At first, the views of the moon were tremendous. They could see for miles and miles. The landscape was jaw droppingly beautiful.

But then, like anything else, they got used to it. After an hour, Mike barely noticed it. He found himself eavesdropping on the driver and Mr. Fenderson, their gym teacher who was their coordinator on the trip, talked to the bus driver about it. Apparently, their trip had almost been cancelled. There was an increase in sunspot activity.

"Could the sunspots be a health risk to the children?" Mr. Fenderson had asked.

"No, they're not that significant," said Cliff Manitou, their bus driver. "But they will prevent communication, if we get into trouble."

"How often does that happen?" Fenderson had asked.

Manitou had replied, "Occasionally." He had checked the forecast. "The sunspots are not scheduled to start for another 16 hours. It will take us four hours to get to Mare Nubium, and another two to get to the dig site. Six hours to get there, an hour there, and six hours back... we should be back with time to spare."

"That's cutting it a bit tight, isn't it?"

Manitou had shrugged. "We do this all the time without any trouble."

And so they went. The students didn't have to wear their helmets inside the bus, there was an atmosphere in the passenger section.

"Then why are we wearing these bulky spacesuits at all?"Mandy Grunwald had asked.

"Just in case," said Manitou.

"In case of what?" Nettie Flairs asked.

Manitou didn't respond.

The students talked among themselves. It was December of their senior year, and everyone had plans for the future. Most students were applying to or had gotten into college. And of course Allyson and Michael both knew what they would be doing come next September.

Allyson's voice was loudest. Mike could hear her from five rows behind him. She talked about how her mother and grandmother were great heroes of the Survey Service, and how she looked forward to naming her first planet.

"But I hear the Academy is very difficult," said Bernard Tows. "Don't, like 60% drop out?"

"Actually, it's more like 70%," said Allyson. "But that's a good thing. It gets rid of the deadwood," she said, her eyes glancing towards Michael.

Nearly four hours later they reached Mare Nubium. It was a small outpost, housing twenty or so people, most of them scientists who worked at the archaeological dig, which was still another two hours by space bus.

Everyone went inside briefly to use the bathroom and have a quick meal, and then they got started again. Mike walked up to the piloting compartment and said, "Mr. Manitou, mind if I ask a question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Everything looks the same out here, and there's no road or signs. How do you know where we're going?"

"We have a global positioning network, guided by satellites," said Manitou. "They constantly tell us where we are and where we have to go."

"And what if the satellites stopped working?" Mike asked.

"Then we'd be in trouble," said Manitou. "But experienced Loonies always know where to go by the sun."

"The sun?"

"Sure, we can navigate by the sun and the stars," said Manitou. Suddenly, the bus shuddered and Mike had to grab a vertical pole to stop himself from falling.

"What was that?"

"An area of loose ground beneath us. Nothing to worry about, but you'd better take your seat."

They reached the dig site without incident.

Soon they found themselves inside a cave made of moon rock. Mike was more excited by the fact of that he was in a cave on the Moon than by the fossils the scientists were showing them. The cave was pressurized, so they didn't need their helmets. Mike reached down with his bare hand and picked up some lunar soil. He smiled as he touched it. To be walking on the surface of the Moon, without a helmet!

"-all the fascinating discoveries we have made here," said one of the scientists, a bearded lady named Doctor Richardson. Her deep manly voice was filled with excitement. "We estimate that two million years ago, these creatures roamed the surface of the moon, a surface that had actual air!"

But the students were interested in a decidedly different topic, as they admired the fossil with a giant stone penis sticking out of the bottom of it. They had many questions.

"How big were their things when they were erect?"

"Did they have any trouble getting inside the girl beavers? Did they hurt?"

"What was their recharge capacity and refresh rate?"

"Boys and girls!" said Mister Fenderson loudly, his voice echoing in the walls of the cave,. "We have come all the way to the Moon, and this is the one thing on your mind?"

"Yes," said Mandy Grunwald frankly, as she fingered the tip of a petrified Beaver penis.

They didn't stay long. There actually wasn't much to see. But now they could tell their families and friends that they had seen signs of past life on the Moon.

The first sign of trouble occurred on the trip back to Mare Nubium. Mike, who was sitting directly behind the driver, saw him tapping his instruments frantically.

"What's wrong?" said Mr. Fenderson, who was sitting in the copilot seat.

"We've lost our global positioning fix," said Manitou.

"Why?"

"Sunspot activity," said Manitou.

"But I thought that wasn't supposed to happen for another eight hours."

Manitou shrugged. "It happens."

"So... how do we know where we're going?" Fenderson asked.

"Mare Nubium is that way," said Manitou, pointing out the cockpit window.

"Where?"

"That way," Manitou pointed again.

Fenderson gave him a look. Manitou grinned. "Don't worry. We may overshoot it slightly, but we'll get so close we'll be able to see it. Maybe it will add another five minutes to our journey. Trust me, you'll barely-"

Suddenly the entire space bus shook, and shuddered, and collapsed. Students screamed as they fell to the ground.

"What's happening?" Gabriella Vensen cried.

"We've hit a soft patch," said Manitou. "Once we lost guidance, we went slightly off course, and hit an area where the ground isn't so hard. We call the loose patches crumbly soil. Don't worry, I'll get her started again, and we'll be on our way."

Manitou tried to restart the engines. And tried, and tried again. All without success.

And then he put on his helmet, and went into the airlock, and he was gone.

"What's happening?" Mandy Grunwald yelled as she stood up in her seat.

"The pilot is just going to check the engines. There will be a small delay," said Mister Fenderson. "Get back to your seat, Mandy."

Mandy slowly sat.

Manitou returned a few minutes later, cycling in through the bus's airlock. After he took off his helmet he went to the comm and activated it. "Bus Two to Mary. Bus Two to Mary. Come in, Mary."

There was static on the other end. Fenderson waited as Manitou tried again. Then Manitou turned off the comm.

"What's happening?" said Fenderson.

"We broke a transducer," said Manitou.

"But you can fix it, right?" Fenderson asked.

"Afraid not," said Manitou. "And as you can see, we can't call for help. Sunspots."

"So... what can we do?"

"Well, we could wait for rescue," said Manitou. "We're due back in Mare Nubium in an hour, after all. Eventually, the staff will notice we're gone."

"Eventually?"

"They're a busy team, doc, with other things to do. They'll notice eventually, in a few hours, and call Luna City for help."

"Can they do that, during sunspot activity?"

"Sure. They have a secure copper line, just for such an emergency." He paused. "But I think our chances would be better if I went back there on foot."

"Why don't we all go?" Fenderson asked.

Manitou shook his head. "It's too dangerous. The kids could sink into crumbly earth, or puncture their suits on a rock outcropping. I'll go."

Fenderson paused. He knew Manitou shouldn't go alone. "I'll go with you."

Manitou nodded.

"How long will it take us to get to Mare Nubium?" Fenderson asked.

"Maybe two hours," said Manitou.

"Will that be enough?" Fenderson asked.

"Our suits have enough air for four hours."

"But do you know where to go? After all, we don't have satellite guidance to tell us where to go."

"It's simple. You just follow your nose," Manitou grinned. He activate the internal bus comm. "All right, ladies and gentlemen, listen up! As some of you have surmised by now, this bus is no longer moving. Your teacher and I are going to take a nice, scenic walk to Mare Nubium to get help."

A collective gasp went up from the students. Some started to cry out.

"Relax! You're safe, as long as you stay here in the bus," said Manitou. "You have enough air for... 22 hours or so. More than enough time. We'll get to Mare, call for help, and have a ship out here to pick you all up in no time."

"In no time?" said Bernard Tows. "Mr. Manitou, how long is no time?"

Manitou shrugged. "Five or six hours, probably. Just sit tight and all will be fine."

The students all started babbling. None of them were happy about this. Mister Fenderson came into the passenger section and yelled, "Quiet down! Quiet down, everyone!" He looked sternly at them. "You're all seniors here. You're all supposed to be adults! Now try to act like it! Allyson Harshbarger, Michael Taylor, come forward."

Mike stepped forward. So did Allyson. Fenderson lowered his voice. "Mike, Allyson, I'm putting you in charge. Keep everyone calm, and make sure they stay inside the bus. Do you get me?"

"Yes, sir," said Mike, feeling a surge of pride. He knew why he had been picked. So did Allyson.

"Good," said Fenderson. "We'll be back with help in a few hours. Just sit tight."

They all watched with various levels of panic in their minds as Manitou and Fenderson put on their helmets and cycled out of the airlock. Their levels of anxiety started to spike as Mister Fenderson and Manitou disappeared in the distance.

"What if they don't find help?"

"What if they get lost?"

"What if they don't come back in time?"

"Quiet!" Michael yelled. "We have plenty of air. We just have to stay put, and stay calm!"

He felt all eyes on him. He looked at Allyson. She was looking at him in an odd way, with... pride, maybe?

The students' voices dropped down into a hushed tone.

An hour passed.

Then another. Then another.

The level of restlessness started to rise.

Allyson came over to him. "I expected this would be the kind of situation we would encounter, but only after we entered the Survey Service."

Mike gave a chuckle. "This is the second time something like this has happened to me."

"The second time?" said Allyson.

And then Mike found himself telling Allyson the story of how he had been on the Arcturus, and how his ship had almost fell into the sun.

Allyson was wide-eyed by the time he finished. "And so... the Survey Service saved you? And that's why you're joining?" She looked at him with new appreciation. "I never knew."

"It's just one of the few things I didn't put in my diary," said Michael.

Allyson put a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. "Don't let that bother you. No one thinks about that any more. The minute you got into the Academy, everything changed." She looked into his eyes. "Everything."

Could Allyson... could Allyson be coming on to him?

Another hour passed, and another after that. Suddenly, they heard odd wacking sounds coming from the front section of the bus. And then the main power sputtered entirely and died. All the lights went out. A moment later, the dim red emergency lighting kicked in.

Everyone started yelling. "Quiet! I said quiet!" Mike roared, in a voice he had never heard before.

"What's happening?" Nettie Flairs cried.

"I'm going to go to the cockpit and find out," said Mike. "Allyson, come with me."

They went to the cockpit. All the instrumentation was dead.

"What do you make of it?" Allyson whispered.

Mike started to flick some switches randomly. Nothing happened. "It looks like the generator quit."

"The generator? As in the generator that generates oxygen for us?" Allyson asked.

"Yes," said Mike.

"Michael... do you know how to fix it?"

"No," said Michael. "But I can read this gauge," he said, looking at one of the few instruments still lit, probably by emergency power. It was the oxygen gauge. "With the oxy regenerator out, it's going to get stuffy in here real quick. We're going to have to switch to suit air soon."

"Suit air? How long will suit air last us?"

"Four hours, maybe five with the spare oxy bottles under our seat."

"How did you know-"

"It's standard procedure on the Moon," said Mike. He reached under a seat and pulled an oxy cylinder out.

"Five hours?" said Allyson, making a face. "What if we're not rescued in five hours?"

"Then... two lucky people on the Academy wait list will get in," said Mike grimly.
​