Shadow Of The Moon--part one

"Scott."

"Yes, Gordon?"

"You just burned off the lighting tray with the laser."

"Uh-oh! Not good."

"Definitely not good. You're lucky it's just the simulator. Or you'd be dead now."

Relations were strained between Jeff and his sons in the days immediately following Christmas. Jeff spent most of his waking hours in the lounge, working almost exclusively on Tracy Industries business, getting his desk cleared for the family's annual New Year's trip to Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward's palatial home in England.

When he wasn't catching up with Tracy Industries, he was thinking about what his sons had said on Christmas Day and trying to come up with those solutions he had promised. He kept coming back to their questions, especially Virgil's and Scott's.

I'm trying to prepare my sons for my... departure, at least financially and hopefully, emotionally. But if one of them was hurt due to my ineptitude... I could never forgive myself. I have to be better prepared.

Scott and his brothers did maintenance on their Thunderbirds and enjoyed the gifts they had received for Christmas. They also began crosstraining, using the simulators to begin with, and starting with Thunderbird Four, primarily because it was the most different of the Thunderbirds. Everyone in the household looked forward to ringing in the New Year at the big party thrown by their good friend, Lady Penelope, with the help of her irascible butler-chauffeur, Parker.

Just as the usual banter and conversation was returning to the Tracy dinner table, the emergency signal began to beep.

Scott made eye contact with each of his brothers, with Tin-Tin, and with Brains as they all rushed into the lounge. They had not taken the time to discuss what they would do for the next rescue, nor had they made plans to try and keep Jeff from going out with them. Operation: Change of Mind had been unofficially shelved.

John took the chair behind the desk and opened communications with Braman in Thunderbird Five.

"Emergency.Protocol.Activated. Relaying.Transmission."

"This is International Rescue. What is your emergency?" John asked. A voice with a decided Scots' burr came back.

"Aye. International Rescue, I'm Dr. Seamus MacInnes. I'm one o' th' researchers of th' Hygenus Rille science station at Crater Julius Caesar. One o' our atomic batteries has exploded and trapped five o' our residents in a remote section o' th' lava tube. We have lost contact wi' them and dinna have th' equipment to dig or cut our way through t' them. They're all wearin' space suits but th' oxygen won't last forever. Nor will th' heat. Kin ye help us?"

"Crater Julius Caesar? That's near Mare Tranquillitatis, isn't it?" John asked as he wrote furiously.

"Aye. I'll gi' ye the lunar coordinates. We canna estimate how long th' oxygen will last, 'tis a largish section o' th' tube. Wi' no air circulatin' in there, though, 'twill get stale verra soon."

"I have your coordinates, Mr. MacInnes. We'll do our best to get your people out of there. International Rescue out." John cut communications and looked at the crowd surrounding the desk. "You heard it, folks. We have a trip to the moon."

Jeff turned to Brains. "What do you know about this base, Brains?"

"W-Well, late in the twentieth century, studies were done s-simulating moon bases within, uh, lava tubes, with the idea that the l-lava tubes would make a cost effective and sturdy shell for lunar h-habitats. Since the lunar lava tubes are up to twenty times the size of terrestrial lava tubes, and with a much thicker covering, up to 10 meters, it seemed a practical idea. There are several such bases scattered throughout the lunar landscape. I'm not familiar with this particular base, but I'm sure we can get the plans to it." Brains' stutter dried up as he warmed to his subject. "What worries me is the atomic batteries. We'll have to discover what type they used and how old they are. Others may explode at any moment."

"All right, people." Jeff commanded. "Virgil, you have the desk. John, Alan, Scott, and I will take Thunderbird Three...."

"Father!" Scott's strident voice cut in. "This is too dangerous! You are not prepared for such a mission. You don't have a space suit, and though I know you've been to the moon...."

Jeff moved over to stand toe to toe with Scott, his eyes flashing in anger. "You are out of order, Scott. This is one mission I am prepared for. I have the equipment. I have the experience. Now, either stand down or stay behind!"

The two men stared at each other for long moments, the rest of the room stunned into silence. Finally, Virgil moved into the chair behind the desk.

"Gentlemen," he said in a hard voice, so unlike his usual tone that both Jeff and Scott snapped their heads around to stare at him.

"This isn't helping anyone. You all need to get going or those people will die. For now, Father goes. He can pilot Thunderbird Three. What else he does will be up to me since I am in charge here. John, you are in charge of the mission on site." John nodded his head and sat down with Alan on the couch to Thunderbird Three.

Jeff and Scott finally broke apart and sat on opposite sides of the couch, Scott sitting on the arm of the sofa.

Virgil turned to Brains. "What kind of equipment will we need, Brains?"

"U-Use the laser cutters. The, uh, oxyhydnite won't work at that temperature," Brains counseled. John nodded again. "I-I think the small, uh, rocket packs should work. But use them on th-the lowest, uh, setting. The l-lack of gravity there will help carry y-you along."

"Our climbing equipment would be handy as well," John added. "Brains, can you make sure it's aboard, too?"

"F-A-B," said the scientist, and he left the room to gather the equipment that had been mentioned.

Virgil pressed the button that lowered it down into the bowels of the hangar complex. No one spoke, and both Jeff and Scott maintained their positions of belligerence. John and Alan exchanged glances of concern as they were wheeled along the track to Thunderbird Three's launch silo. The silence between the four men remained as they were lifted up into the lower levels of the rocket ship. Once the sofa clicked into place, Jeff made a beeline for the lift.

As he reached it, he turned to inform his sons, "I'll be using maximum acceleration for the first part of our flight. Better make sure you're strapped in. Alan, you're my copilot."

Alan hurried to join Jeff in the lift. John watched them go, shaking his head.

"It's not going to be easy leading this mission, I can already tell," he commented to Scott. Scott sat in one of the lift-off couches in Thunderbird Three's lounge, arms crossed, face glowering.

"Do me a favor, Scott? Don't buck me during this rescue?" John enjoined, a sour tone to his voice. "I'm going to have my hands full enough with Father."

"I won't buck you, John. You're the man." Scott replied quietly. John rolled his eyes. He knew that quiet, dangerous tone. But he also knew that Scott, once he said he'd do something, would do it. He relaxed a bit and strapped into a lift-off couch.

Alan had watched his father land Thunderbird Three, bringing her safely back to Earth. Now he watched as Jeff prepared to launch that same craft. His father's hands moved skillfully across the control panels, setting up everything just as neatly and as accurately as Alan himself would, doing the prelaunch checks without hesitation.

"Thunderbird Three requesting permission to launch," Jeff requested, his deep voice clipping off the words, still filled with anger.

"Permission granted," was Virgil's terse reply. The hatch to the silo irised open beneath the Round House.

"Commencing countdown. T minus ten seconds." Jeff said as he manipulated the controls. "Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one... liftoff!"

Thunderbird Three's engines fired, straining to push the tall rocket up against the pull of Earth's gravity. Slowly at first, then gaining speed with each passing second, the space craft passed through the guest accommodations and took to the sky.

This time, Jeff felt no elation; though the adrenaline pumped through him, he was still too angry to enjoy himself. Besides, this isn't a milk run. Lives are depending on us. This is not the time for personal pleasure, he thought darkly. He glanced down at his controls.

"Escape velocity in 15 minutes. Moon trajectory course set. Time to Hygenus Rille base, 7 hours, 10 minutes." Jeff intoned, his words reaching both the two men in the lounge below and those in the lounge on Tracy Island.

"F-A-B, Thunderbird Three. Good luck to you all." Virgil's voice came over the communication speaker. "We'll be in touch as soon as we get some more information about the base itself."

"F-A-B, base." Alan said calmly. He turned to look at his father. "We have 3 hours of steady acceleration to reach 6 gs. Maybe we should spend the time mapping out our strategy to get these people out of that lava tube."

"Why don't you ask John about that, son? Virgil has named him on-site commander." Jeff reminded Alan. He got up and opened the uniform storage cabinet and pulled out a blue turtleneck and trousers. And a gold sash.

Jeff sat at the pilot's station, fuming. The younger men were below, looking over the information about Hygenus Rille base that Brains had uploaded to Thunderbird Three's computer. There was a map, Jeff had seen briefly, and some information on the atomic batteries. But he had been kicked upstairs as pilot, even though they were at a point where the autopilot would be just as efficient as he was.

What are they deciding on down there? Am I going to have any part in this rescue at all? Scott is so adamant that I not stir from the Villa and the others are following his lead. He slammed a fist on the console in frustration. I am not a piece of antique crystal that's going to fracture the moment you take it out of the display case! I've proven myself, more than once. And this, this is what I was born to do! Walk on Luna's surface. None of them have ever had that privilege. I am prepared for this! I must do this!

A niggling little voice in the back of his head asked a question.

why?

WHY WHAT? his mind shouted at the voice.

why must you do this? The voice sounded very much like Kyrano's.

your sons don't want to lose you.

"THEY WON'T!

why must you do this?

TO PROVE...

to prove... what?

TO PROVE....

what?

To prove that I'm not getting... old

but you are, you know

I know.

By this time, the internal argument had diverted Jeff's anger and frustration. He sighed, then felt a soft tap on his shoulder.

"Dad?" Alan asked. "John wants you downstairs. We tried to call but you didn't respond."

Jeff moved, shaking his head to clear it. "Sorry, son. I was deep in thought."

Alan smiled wryly, "Yeah, you looked like you were lost in the stars."

Jeff snorted a laugh. Then he raised his arm. "John, I'm on my way down," he informed those below through his telecomm.

"F-A-B," John replied.

Jeff headed toward the lift. He looked back at Alan. "Coming?"

"No. I'm sitting in as the pilot." Alan explained. Jeff nodded and took the lift down to the lounge.

When he arrived there, Scott and John both looked over at him. He joined them at the small table on which they had spread out the map of the base.

"Hello, Father." John indicated that he should stand next to him. "Scott, Alan, and I have been going over which is the best approach for us to take on this rescue. This is a map of the Hygenus Rille base. It's a huge lava tube, but it's also honeycombed with smaller passages, many of them unmapped. The more we looked at the map and the more information we got from Dr. MacInnes, the more it looked like we would need the most experienced of our cavers on this rescue. That's you and me. Scott will be coming with us, too, while Alan stays in Thunderbird Three and coordinates communications between us and base. The thickness of the walls in the lava tube will probably interfere with our helmet telecomms so we'll use Thunderbird Three as a signal booster to Virgil."

Jeff nodded his head, and looked the map over. "Are we looking for another way into the cavern where the victims are?"

"Yes. Most of the smaller passages have been blocked off to make the part of the lava tube they are using into one large enclosed area. The moon base uses solar power mostly, but has the atomic batteries for when the moon is in phase and they are in darkness. The batteries are kept apart from the primary base for a case like this. The only access is through this passage here." John traced a line on the map from main chamber to a smaller one. "The power crew went down to do maintenance on the batteries, and it seems one of them exploded. The resulting rockfall was very heavy and blocked off the smaller access passage on this end." He indicated the entrance to the place where the batteries were kept. Then he pointed to a line on the map that ran off from the one marking the way to the battery area. "This tube dead ends near the wall to the chamber where the batteries are. Dr. MacInnes thinks it's probably the thinnest part of the wall and we won't have too much trouble cutting through there."

"What about radiation levels?" Scott asked. "Will our suits be able to take them?"

"According to Brains, yes, we'll be able to handle it for as long as we are there. Fortunately for the maintenance crew, the chamber was supplied with air and they're using the new recycling tanks, so they'll have enough air until we get there, but not much more." John explained. He looked at his father and his older brother. "This is going to be a tight one, but we've had worse."

Both men nodded. John gave his father another look. "Father? I want to see your space suit. You did say you had the equipment...."

"Of course, John."

Jeff and John took the lift up two levels to the storage area of Thunderbird Three, one level below the pilot's cockpit. He opened up the space suit locker, and pulled out a white coverall, a pair of gauntlets, boots with a wide tread, and a helmet. John took the garments and looked them over carefully.

"These look new even though they're an old model of space suit. Where did you get this?" John asked, curious.

"I had more than one flight suit when I went to the moon. This was one that I never used. It was still sealed in its airtight packaging when I pulled it out after my trip to Thunderbird Five. I've gone over it carefully and found no leaks or tears. It might as well have been manufactured yesterday," Jeff explained. "I've even tried it on, so I know everything fits. And it works with the new air tanks and power units."

John continued his minute examination of the suit and its accoutrements. He noticed that the only identifying badge on it was an International Rescue logo. "Grandma put this on for you?"

"Yes. She was reluctant, but she did it." Jeff replied

Finally, John nodded and handed the suit back to his father. "It looks sound, if out of fashion," he said wryly. "Looks like you're good to go. Just fasten a radiation tag to it, and I'll have to calibrate the helmet's communications system to the proper frequency. But that's all." John gave his father a long look. "Seems like you came prepared. I'll let Scott know."

Jeff blew out a breath. "Son... John... I'm sorry about this big blowout between your brother and me. I understand some of his reservations about my going out on rescues. Virgil's, too. But this... this is different. Here, I have the training. No one is going to have to 'look after me'. I can pull my own weight."

John nodded slightly. "So it seems. But you and Scott are going to have to clear the air between you. We can't go out there with anger still festering. It will affect our performance. We know that tired people make mistakes. Well, angry ones do too."

The older man nodded slowly. "I'll see what I can do." Then he headed to the lift.

John watched him go. He found himself absently slapping one of his father's gauntlets on the palm of his open hand, and stopped, returning the glove to the neatly folded pile of spacesuit. They are so much alike it's a wonder they haven't come to loggerheads like this more often. But Scott has it right; Dad isn't doing this because it's necessary for IR. He's doing this because he needs to do it. I just wish he'd be honest with himself and with us. He shook his head. All the same, I have a bad feeling about this mission. It has started out with conflict, and that can only mean trouble later on.

Jeff found Scott down in the lounge, poring over the map, trying to memorize the features and contours of the area in which they would be working. Not that it will help much, Jeff thought, Even the most accurate of maps can't compare to the reality of the moon. He cleared his throat, and Scott looked up, then looked back to the map. Jeff could swear he felt the heat of Scott's anger from where he stood.

"Scott."

Scott did not turn around. "Yes, Father?"

"We need to clear the air." Jeff slowly walked over to the table where the map was spread out and where Scott was perusing the documents, leaning over with his elbows and forearms on the table. When Jeff finally came to the table, Scott flung down the pencil he had been toying with and pushed away from the work surface.

"What's to clear? You're on this mission despite my grave misgivings, despite my deep concerns for your safety and well-being and the safety and well-being of those we came to rescue," Scott said angrily. "It's like you didn't hear a word that any of us said after the apartment fire. You just pulled your rank and came along."

Jeff could feel the slow burn of his own anger returning and hurried to squelch it. "Scott, can you deny that on this mission, I have the experience?"

"No. But that experience was thirty years ago," Scott shot back.

"Still, I know what I'm doing here. As much or better than you or John or Alan. And I have the equipment, even if it's not the latest model or fashion. John just gave my suit a thorough going-over and has okayed it."

"So, you have an old spacesuit. And now you're going to tell me that walking and working on the moon is like riding a bicycle. You never really forget," Scott retorted.

"No, Scott, you don't forget. You never forget. You never forget the exhilaration, the excitement, the shiver down your spine, the feeling that you, unworthy as you are, are walking where giants have walked before you. The sense of vulnerability, knowing that Lady Luna is a harsh mistress and one wrong choice can end your life," Jeff said, moving around the table to face Scott. "You never forget. It gets in your blood and in your bones. And sometimes, when you least expect it, you'll look up at the fat, silvery face of Luna, and you'll relive it. Just as if it were yesterday. And you realize how much you miss it all."

Scott was caught off guard by his father's eloquence. Jeff Tracy was usually a pragmatic man, one not given to poetry or flowery prose. But now the passion in his father's description of his feelings reached out to Scott and struck him. He stood and looked at his father and for a moment, saw a twin to himself, young and vigorous, running on adrenaline and awed by his opportunity. The opportunity of a lifetime. Then he looked again and there was the father he knew, silver-haired, lines, born of sorrow and heavy responsibility, creasing the handsome face.

"I'd forgotten how much going to the moon meant to you, Dad. It's been a while since we've clamored for stories about your moon adventures." Scott said softly, his anger dissipating. Maybe now he'll own up to why he is suddenly going out on rescues.

"It was something I could have done again and again, Scott, and never lost the wonder of it all." Jeff replied. "But as much as I loved Lady Luna, I loved your mother more. And you. And eventually your brothers, too. So, I left all that. With no regrets."

"And now that I'm going back, it will be different. I won't have time to feel the wonder and awe that I felt before. We are on a mission and my focus has to be there." he continued. "And it will be."

They were both silent for a long minute. Then Scott shook his head.

"I still have misgivings about you going on rescues, Dad. I always will. You are far too valuable to International Rescue, to Tracy Industries, and to us for you to risk your life and limb this way. I still don't see any reason why you should go out on rescues when the rest of us are available." Scott paused. "I don't like it much, but in this case, I have to agree with John that your experience, both on the moon and with caving, makes you a better man for the job than Alan or me." Scott stated flatly. "Just promise me one thing, Dad?"

"What is that, son?"

"That you will be careful and follow John's lead? He might not have the experience you do, but he's our designated field commander and a cautious one at that."

"I promise, Scott." Jeff nodded, then smiled. "If I could follow Alan's directions at that apartment fire, I think I can follow John's here, don't you agree?"

Scott was quiet for a moment, then nodded slightly. Both men were startled to hear Alan's voice come over their telecomms.

"ETA to Hygenus Rille, 30 minutes. Commencing landing procedures."

"I'd better get back up to the control room," Jeff said, heading for the lift. He entered it, then stopped and leaned out. "Have we cleared the air between us, Scott?"

"Yes. I think we have, Dad." Scott replied with a slight smile. "I'll see you in a bit."

"F-A-B." The lift closed and Jeff was whisked up out of sight.

Scott sighed heavily. I have a bad feeling about this mission. Very bad. I hope we're not in for some nasty surprises.

Jeff set Thunderbird Three down on a landing area several hundred yards from the Hygenus Rille. From that distance, the Rille looked like a low gray ridge, topped with sharp edges, unburnished by the forces of wind and rain. There was a dome-like building perched outside the entrance to the Rille, and from that structure, a lunar vehicle bounced along towards the red rocket. An adjustable gantry automatically moved up to the side of Thunderbird Three, attaching itself to the outer airlock that led to the control room. The members of the rescue team had assembled there, a duffel bag of equipment for each to carry, recirculating air tanks on their backs, helmets under one arm. Jeff listened to John as he gave the team last minute instructions.

"Alan will be here to relay our conversation back to Virgil at base. Dr. MacInnes tells us there is no change; no communication from the repair team, no more explosions, and they are still unable to get through the breakdown to the battery chamber. He is sending out a vehicle to pick us up. We won't need our helmets and air tanks until we get to the danger zone. Everything is enclosed and pressurized around here. We'll leave the airlock, go down in an elevator to a garage where the lunar personnel carrier will meet us and take us to the base proper."

"Hygenus Rille must be a pretty important base to have such amenities like pressurization," Jeff remarked. "Do they have artificial gravity capabilities?"

"I'm told they do inside the buildings but not in the passages between the buildings nor in the base's cavern itself. There's some exciting scientific and engineering development going on here, and it's well funded." John explained.

"Really? What kinds of development?" Scott asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, the engineering side is developing materials to use in the lava tubes on Mars, as Earth starts to build bases there. The scientific end has several projects going, mostly geologic in nature but there are a couple of biochem teams as well. One is working on a new cancer cure, and the other is trying to develop plants that will grow in fortified lunar soil." John said.

Scott nodded. "That would explain the prime funding. And the expensive anti- gravity equipment."

The three men turned as Alan relayed a message.

"Dr. MacInnes says welcome and they're waiting for you down in the personnel carrier."

"Well, here we go. Keep radio contact open, Alan. Virgil, we are exiting Thunderbird Three," John called.

Virgil's face was visible on the plasma screen in front of the pilot's controls. "F-A-B, John. Good luck, and take care."

Scott opened the inner airlock door and the three men stepped through. It closed behind them. At John's vocal command, sensors on the outside of the airlock determined what kind of atmosphere they were stepping into and compensated, making the air, gravity, and temperature inside the airlock match that of their destination. When the two sides matched, the outer airlock door opened and the trio stepped through. A short passage, and there was an elevator car waiting for them. It started down without a command.

Jeff could feel the difference in gravity; obviously the pressurized air and the relative warmth that filled the inhabitable parts of the gantry were the only concessions to human needs here at the outskirts of the base. He wasn't floating, for the moon does have gravity, but he knew that if he jumped up even just a little, he would go higher than at home and take longer to come back down to the floor.

"It's colder than I expected," Scott remarked as they traveled downwards.

"The temperature is probably just above freezing," Jeff answered. "The reason they use the lava tubes is that the temperature is normally about minus 20 Farenheit in there. No colder than a really cold winter's day in Canada or the northern United States. Survivable for humans, with proper garments and precautions."

"I expect that the actual base will be warmer still," John said as the elevator came to a halt. "Better put on those visors that Brains sent along."

The three men donned visors that traveled from ear to ear in a smooth arc of thin, tinted polyhexane. They could see as well from behind the lenses as they could without, but the upper half of each face was obscured from the above the eyebrows to the midpoint on the nose, on which the glasses rested. They also were already wearing the hoods that came with their space suits, so most of their hair was already hidden, with the exception of John's unruly blond curl.

It's the best camouflage Brains could come up with on short notice, Scott thought. I hope we can dispense with them once we put our helmets on.

The doors slid open and they were greeted by a short, well-built man with a rim of salt and pepper hair around his smooth pate and a full, salt and pepper beard. He stuck out his hand in John's direction.

"I'm Dr. Seamus MacInnes. Welcome t' Hygenus Rille."

John shook his hand. "You can call me John. This is Scott and Jeff. Let's get our equipment stowed and get moving. There's no time to waste."

"Aye." Dr. MacInnes opened up a cargo hatch and the International rescue operatives stashed their duffels inside, keeping their helmets with them. Then they climbed into the cramped carrier and Dr. MacInnes activated the airlock, and they were heading away from the gantry. Jeff tried looking back at Thunderbird Three through the carrier's small ports, but the angle of the vehicle stopped him from seeing it clearly.

The air in the small cabin was tense. John spoke in low tones with Dr. MacInnes, trying to ascertain if there had been any changes and get more description of the cave terrain they were going to be covering.

"All o' th' tunnels are filled with lunar dust, which ha' been a constant irritant t' us. In th' habitat area, we've been able t' actually vacuum th' stuff out, but no' in th' battery cavern. Tha's why we ha' regular maintenance teams goin' down there. I'm told that's a possible reason for th' explosion." Dr. MacInnes explained. "Th' access tube'll be th' same."

"Thank you, Dr. MacInnes. Are you aware of any drop off's that will require rapelling?" John asked.

"Nay, lad. I've never been down there myself. And if there was such a thing, th' repair crew have nae reported it."

John nodded. I expected this. We'll have to be prepared for anything. I wish I could shake this ominous feeling.

He called back to Alan on his wrist telecomm. "Alan, we are approaching Hygenus Rille base. I'll contact you again before we enter the access tunnel."

"F-A-B," came the response.

An airlock slowly opened before them, and Dr. MacInnes drove the personnel carrier straight inside. There was a short wait as the airlock pressurized and then the inner door opened and they entered what looked like an extensive garage. Dr. MacInnes parked the personnel carrier near another set of airlocks and let the operatives out. They grabbed their gear from the storage hold. A slim older Asian woman waited for them by the airlock.

"I'm Mrs. MacInnes. Welcome to Hygenus Rille. I'm to guide you back to the access tunnel immediately while my husband does his maintenance checks on the personnel carrier."

John shook hands with her and introduced the rest of the team as they walked in her wake. Jeff and Scott both looked around with interest at the base.

This is a lava tube? Jeff mused as he saw the huge size of the cavern. Brains said twenty times bigger than terrestrial lava tubes and he wasn't kidding! The huge cavern's roof rose more than a hundred feet over their heads and was covered in small stalactites. The floor was smooth and free of the fine lunar dust that Jeff knew so well. The enormous space was filled with smaller structures, some as tall as four stories. The cavern was filled with air, but the gravity was lunar norm, which was one-sixth the gravity of Earth. Each step propelled them upwards and striding through the cavern was like walking in water or in slow motion. Jeff quickly adopted Mrs. MacInnes's near shuffle and the younger men soon followed suit when they saw their father's example. Thus it was just a few minutes walk to the entrance to the access tunnel.

"Here we are," Mrs. MacInnes said. "We will have medical people here when you indicate you are on your way back."

"Thank you, ma'am," Scott replied. "We'll be sure to let you know the situation."

The trio put down their equipment duffels and donned their helmets. Each man carefully checked the connections of his companions, making sure that the all-important connection between suit and head piece was secure and sealed. John tapped the communications earpiece and spoke into the microphone in his helmet.

"Alan, do you read me?"

"I'm reading you three by five, John. I can boost the signal from this end to base." Alan replied as he manipulated the communication controls. "Okay. Try to talk to base. It will be audio only."

"Virgil, do you read me?" John asked.

Virgil's voice came back, "F-A-B, John. I'd say we read you at strength three, but it's clear."

"F-A-B, Virge." He looked at Jeff and Scott. "Are you two reading me?"

"Loud and clear, John." "F-A-B, John."

"Okay. We're good to go." He picked up his equipment duffel and stepped over to the airlock that Mrs. MacInnes had opened. The three men entered the tiny room and the door closed behind them. They spent the few minutes in the lock making sure that their helmets were lit from within so that their faces could be seen, and strapping high intensity tungsten lights onto their forearms. When the dim light over their heads went from red to green, Scott opened the other door and they stepped out into the darkness, complete and bitterly cold.

to be continued