MoonRush (14 page)

As she peered more closely, she saw the darker area that was the Tongue of the Ocean. Somewhere down at the bottom of that sucker, the remains of the
Rogue
s
’
Gamble
lay. As well as the shipwreck that started this whole crazy adventure.

Looking from this far above, the ocean was the same deep blue of an expensive sapphire. Hard to remember while up here how much life teemed below the surface. Cleo knew
that life
intimately, even better sometimes than she felt like she knew her own. So much training and experience had gone into learning all that she knew about that blue jewel-like surface down there.

What was she doing up here? She was a marine biologist. She
belonged
down there in that blue, swimming with its life, drinking in the multitude of colors there. Instead
,
it was this blue and white…and cold…ball. It was beautiful, stunning really. Cleo felt small and humbled.

She also f
elt more than a little useless.

* * *

Buton puzzled over his reaction to the view of the
E
arth from space. His mind had done what his mind always did
—
which was to quantify. It was a process so ingrained in him that
,
more often than not
,
he was unaware of it. The difference this time came in the disparity of his intellectual response and a more visceral one. Buton observed the analysis
happening in the background, but
he
could not explain the more powerful feeling of expansion in his bosom. He grappled with a sudden urge to reach out and hold Cleo’s hand.

It felt amazing. It left Buton feeling more than a little disturbed.

Simon’s voice called out to the crew over the intercom. “Artificial grav should be coming online soon. It’s just taking a while for the sucker to warm up. Sorry, guys!”

The window
’s
perspective shifted as the
Eureka
came about,
everyone’s view
of the planet chang
ed
to one of garish lights competing with one another. The space station swam into view like some interstellar peacock, all bright feathers and raucous voice.

The space station spun around its own axis, which had been painted in what looked like a glossy black finish. The singular effect was one that made the center of the station almost disappear, while reflecting the multitude of lights surrounding it. It looked as if the station were revolving around miniature stars and comets, trapped in their gravitational pull. Buton squinted against the glare, trying to make out the contours of the station in front of him, his eyes struggling to adjust.

Advertisements for everything from top-of-the-line spacesuits to vacuum
s to
space-rated condoms blinked and flashed, interspersed with bizarre anime figures waving and encouraging them to buy, buy, buy. Buton again found himself disturbed, but for a far different reason. His stomach roiled as his mind tried to find an up and down orientation where there was none to be found.

Buton had heard rumors that some of the creators of this private venture hailed from Vegas, the other half from Disney. Watching the display in front of him, he was inclined to believe it.

One of the spaceships careened too close to one of the rotating arms, avoiding disaster only at the last moment. Lights and alarms blared while two polite-looking security cruisers in bright colors
flanked both
side
s
of the offending vehicle. The ship was escorted off to the far side of the station, where Buton could not see the result
ing
action.

Okay, maybe a little less Disneyland, a little more Euro
Disney.

This station might look like it was all lip gloss, but there were teeth behind
its
pretty smile. Buton
reminded himself
to warn Jarod of that before he visited the bar or casino. Thinking further, Buton decided to alert Cleo instead. That would ultimately do far more good.

This c
ould be an interesting layover.

* * *

Rob was getting the hang of this whole zero
-
gravity thing. He pushed off from another wall and zoomed across the hold toward the window for a look at the station. Then the artificial gravity kicked in.

Simon’s voice floated back to them. “Hey, guys. I got the grav to work.”

Yeah, Simon. Thanks for that one
.

From his quite different and much more painful perspective
on
the floor, Rob watched his crewmates observing the insanity of the international space station. Ships arced in and out in intricate patterns
,
creat
ing
a tapestry to give the Mad Hatter a run for his money. Buton spun away from the viewport, his face a vivid green
be
neath his dusky skin tone. “I think I am going to be ill.”

Rob just sat, mesmerized by the tracks of light the spacecraft left behind, like interstellar slugs leaving trails of glistening space slime.

The sight was even more than what Rob had been expecting. He had studied up on the space station during
the
week that Jarod was finding a ship, and the stuff he found out was so amazing that he couldn’t stop. He was so stoked about the whole thing
that
he
researched the history of it
.

Back in 2011
,
when the shuttle program was scrapped and NASA went belly
-
up, no real space flight
existed
for about five years. Then a bunch of rich dudes got together and said, “Hey, let’s build a casino out in space
!
” Everyone thought the idea was completely whack
ed,
and they would all lose their shirts on the deal. Not even. It was such a huge hit with the millionaires and billionaires that they kept expanding the operation.

The station had zero
-
gravity rides that put theme parks back planet
-
side to shame.
O
ne called the Eliminator went out into the vacuum of space and flipped around five times before heading back. The
gravitational pulls
from the flips traded off with the zero grav to create the perfect
H
url-o-
M
atic ride. Rob was pretty sure
that
it might kill him. He
had
to get on that thing before they left.

A
theat
er
also
had a totally immersive experience. Like, you were
in
the movie. You did what the hero did, saw what he saw,
and
felt what he felt. That was
totally
creepy
!
And tighter than a helmet seal. Another must-do.

And then, the one thing that no one…and Rob meant
no one
…would keep him from. The arcade. This arcade was the most advanced gaming station in the universe. They had rides that they couldn’t even advertise back on Earth. They were that extreme. And Rob was here, just minutes away from playing them all.

This was going to be
so
cool
!

* * *

Jarod refocused on the instruments in front of him, waving his hand over the panel that would allow him to speak with the space station. He had to wave twice to get it to work. “This is the
Eureka
, asking permission to dock.”

During the long pause that followed, Cleo stuck her head into the cockpit. “We’re pretty much ready to go back there. What’s the holdup?”

Jarod started to reply when a voice crackled over the speakers. “Uh…
Eureka
, we have you on visuals. Do you need emergency assistance?”

Jarod darted his eyes around the cockpit to see if he had tripped some sort of alarm by mistake. Nothing out of order that he could see. “Come again?”

“Your ship…Well. It looks…Are you sure it can handle docking?”

Jarod s
ighed as he heard Cleo
snicker next to him. He glanced over at Simon, whose face had now gone from normal to dark red and looked to be on its way to purple. He held out a restraining hand as the little person spoke into the mi
c
, “Listen
,
you glorified
—
”

“Control, we are ready to dock,” Jarod yanked the mi
c
away and yelled over what he was sure would have become a withering tirade from their tiny pilot. Simon sat back in his seat, muttering to himself about the questionable heritage of the official in question.

After another, shorter pause their response came. “Uh…Roger that. Docking instructions passing to your mainframe now. You do have a computer, right?”

Jarod grabbed for the
mic
to forestall another possible rant. Simon glared daggers at him and continued mumbling to himself. “Uploaded and ready.”

Simon sat up and began dancing his fingers over the sensitive instrument panel in front of him.
He and
Jarod now began the delicate dance of working together to get the ship docked. This was the one part of Jarod’s whirlwind training that had felt like second nature. He spoke over his shoulder at Cleo, “It’s just like pulling our boat into port.”

“Except here, your patented port-side ‘bump’,” Cleo’s tone was drier than the Sahara.  “and we
die
.”

Good point. Jarod refocused on the task at hand. The controls were not too terribly different than a plane’s
,
except
that
there were a lot more of them. A
lot
more. Enough that just looking at them gave Jarod a headache. Luckily, this maneuver only required him to use the stick and push a couple of buttons. He was mostly sure
that
he knew which ones they were.

As they approached the docking gate, Jarod overcorrected a smidgen
,
and there was a gentle shudder. Cleo’s hand on his shoulder clamped down like a vise and Jarod heard her make some kind of guttural sound in the back of her throat. And then they were docked.