CHAPTER 3
Paul Gesling and Bill Stetson should have been leaving lunar orbit for home with a sense of triumph. Both had visited the Moon more than once. Gesling had now piloted five of Space Excursions’ commercial trips around the Moon and back to the Earth in the reusable Dreamscape spacecraft. Lunar tourism was Space Excursions’ first commercial space venture. It was a resounding success and formed the financial basis that now enabled the company to build a lunar hotel. Stetson had walked on the Moon during the rescue of the stranded Chinese astronauts; now he was coming home with a fellow moonwalker.
They were not feeling triumphant. Instead, they felt powerless and, worse still, useless, especially Gesling. His colleague and friend was nearly a quarter of million miles from home, and from his wife, and there was absolutely nothing either of them could do to help her or to get home any faster. Orbital mechanics just would not allow it.
“I can’t believe anyone would want to kill Gary Childers,” said Bill as he watched the ship’s instruments, pausing only briefly to peer out the window at the rapidly receding Moon.
“I can’t believe that Carolyn’s been shot. Damn it all to hell, I feel so helpless way out here. When they catch whoever did this, I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll kill him.”
Stetson knew his buddy was worried sick and blowing off steam, so he didn’t bother reminding his friend that he couldn’t hurt a fly and that he was a huge believer in the rule of law. It wouldn’t serve any purpose to try and talk reason with someone in an unreasonable state, unreasonable distances from home, following such unreasonable and horrific acts.
“Who would do such a thing, anyway?” Gesling shook his head in disbelief.
“People are screwed up, Paul. Gary is a successful businessman in a time that people don’t value the rugged individual like they used to. It doesn’t help that he’s so damned outspoken about what he believes,” Bill said, hoping to reassure his friend. “They’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.”
Stetson knew that Gesling and Childers were friends as well as colleagues. He was getting to know Childers, but he wasn’t likely to ever get into the man’s inner circle where Gesling resided. Only going together through the hard knocks of growing a business, being “in the trenches” together could grow the camaraderie that these two men shared. Stetson knew that he had to try and get his friend to think of something other than his critically injured wife, if that were even possible. Looking out the port at the black sky and the eternal gray sphere that was the Moon, he tried feverishly to come up with something to say that would change the subject, even if it were only for a brief few minutes.
“Wow, wouldya just look at that?” Finally, Stetson broke the silence, “Look at the Earth. Isn’t it beautiful? I never get tired of looking at it. And from here you can see the whole sphere.”
“No political boundaries visible from up here.”
“It’s hard to believe there are now over seven billion people. When I was a boy, there were fewer than four billion and we wondered then how we were going to feed them all.” Stetson pursed his lips and continued, “But we managed. And now there are that many people in the middle class alone. Yep, it’s a better time to be on Earth now than at any time in human history.”
“But for how long? Four billion people consuming resources at the same rate as three hundred million Americans doesn’t seem sustainable. And it isn’t. Look at Africa. The South African War has been raging for nearly three years with no end in sight. Both sides are just proxies for the Chinese and the West, each backing their favorite dictators and warlords just because they want the mineral rights if their side is victorious.” Gesling’s mood was certainly sour. But Bill understood. If somebody had told him that a maniac shot his wife he’d be in an equal or worse fugue.
“Paul, I know you are worried, but I’ve never heard you be this pessimistic. I just can’t believe you buy that ‘limits to growth’ crap. Look where you are. You’re in space, where the resources are unlimited. There are more minerals on the Moon and in near Earth asteroids than there are accessible on Earth. That’s why those space mining companies are coming to Mr. Childers to build them their habitats. They have to have a place for their miners to live when they’re out here getting the mineral resources ready to be sent back to Earth. Pretty soon those African warlords will look around and see that no one is backing them anymore because it’s easier and more ethical to get the same resources from up here.”
“Bill, do you honestly believe we can mine the asteroids on a scale that will make any difference? Right now that seems like it is millions of years away—science fiction. It can’t be cost effective with today’s technology.”
“Yes, yes, I do.” Stetson didn’t blink. “And I also know that when Japan finishes their prototype space solar power station and starts beaming clean, zero greenhouse-gas emission power back to their resource-starved island that other countries will take notice and start building their own power stations. I’m angry that the first one will be Japanese and not American. But, hey, as long as someone is building it, that’s just fine by me.”
“Space solar power. I still don’t buy it being cost effective. Or safe, for that matter. But who the hell knows? Cost effective or not, Carolyn would’ve loved to write the press release for something like that,” Gesling said with an even darker tone.
“Stop talking like that!” barked Stetson, incensed that his friend was talking of his wife in the past tense. “She’ll write press releases for things more exciting than that—like the first trip to Mars in a few years. She’s alive and in the care of some of the best trauma surgeons in the country. They’ll pull her through…and Mr. Childers to boot.”
As if on cue, the radio beeped to alert them that someone from back home in Nevada wanted to have a conversation. Thus far, all of their musings had been made with the radio muted and all recording devices on the ship purposefully turned off. Bill had insisted on it. Gesling remained fixated on the view through the port while Stetson reacted to the signal and turned on the ship’s radio. Stetson knew that his friend wouldn’t be up for talking unless there was news about his wife.
“Stetson here, what’s up?”
“Bill, we have some news. Gary Childers is out of surgery and it looks like he’ll make it. One of the bullets shattered a bone in his leg and the other passed clean through his body without hitting a vital organ. He suffered a great deal of blood loss, but not enough to do any permanent damage. Fortunately, whoever the sniper was wasn’t a very good shot.”
“That’s great news, but what about Carolyn? What do you know about her situation?”
“Carolyn is still in surgery and we don’t know anything other than that she’s alive and in the operating room. No word yet on the shooter either. The news reports say that whoever did it covered their tracks really well. We’ll call back when we know something.”
“Sounds good, out.” With that, Stetson again turned off the radio, not wanting the ground crew or anyone else to hear the private conversation between him and Paul. That just wouldn’t be right.