Moon Fall

His morning alarm sounded for a moment and stopped when it was determined he was awake. The bio-meter showed his pulse rate through the night, indicated how long he’d slept, and recommended he take some kind of medication or see a doctor as his beta waves were off the charts. Considering the recent regression it suggested he see a psychological doctor to make sure his regression therapy hadn’t caused some kind of brain chemistry imbalance.

He was sweating and turned the audio commentary of his sleep schedule off. He clutched his chest and felt his heart racing again, felt his skin tingle as if he was remembering the bitter cold of space and the hot warmth of the white light. He tried to get out of bed but the bottoms of his feet seemed to slip out from under him, his knees felt weak and he fell to the floor.

“Access recording, backup all patterns and data from dream sequencer. Reconstruct visuals and create a VG file based upon those parameters.” He said remembering he could give the commands with his voice now. He pulled himself back onto the bed and stead himself. “erase all data connected to the recording after depositing the constructed file into my data-pad under encryption path beta-sigma-Sheila-one-one-four-mark.”

“Command given, procedure now locked and classified, no modifications can be made till the file is completed, completion time estimated two hours. Processing commencing upon your order.” The computer responded.

“Schedule.”

The large wall separating his office from bed blinked black and then his schedule for the data came up on the screen along with the time and inner dome weather conditions. On one side advertisements for the days activities in different districts that were personalized to his tastes.

At the bottom right of the screen four red dots blinked on and off.

“Play messages.”

The first message was an itinerary for the festival from the presidents office. He was expected to show up an hour before first Moon Fall, which wouldn’t be fore another thirty two hours. The daytime had extended to that much daylight and though the domes dimmed at the mid day mark for nine hours for those working to rest, most had grown accustom to the change and took naps or less strenuous activities. Also the inclusion of whitewater into their lives had made it easier to cope with long days and long nights. Human’s had adapted, only tourists needed the changes otherwise mental stress could occur.

The information was very precise as to where he should be and what he would be expected to do. He wasn’t to give any speeches but all heads of ecological departments were to be prompt in their arrival, also the president wished to have dinner with him.

The second message was his automated watch program finding Graces shuttle and time of arrival while he’d been asleep. She had sent the information and his automatic messaging system preempted his request to determine if she had indeed arrived.

There were two things Peiter was good at. Managing the department and managing people. If he’d have wanted to he could have been president, in fact the council had approached him before Alexi. He’d turned them down because he felt it was too much responsibility and at the time he wished only to concentrate on his job. That and the planet didn’t need a crippled president with a voice collar. Peiter knew he didn’t represent the people.

He’d however gathered a few bits of useful material including hacking skills from some individuals he’d caught using the hydroponics labs for more recreational uses. Turns out several of these individuals knew a lot about hacking, and showed him how the programs could be written and modified to do certain tasks, most were to make it easier for him since he didn’t use his voice much.

As the recreational uses were not technically illegal he was able to reach a deal. He turned his eye to low levels of recreation as long as it didn’t harm the community and as long as he got any kind of information he wanted from the young thrill seeking hackers. Most of them lived in the southern domes and hydroponics was still a bit of a mess down there. The lower pole area was covered with domes but they were very limited as it was harder to grow larger hydro-replication domes, plants just didn’t like growing on the south pole and no one knew why. He’d provide all the help he could give and he allowed the use of low level drugs for recreational use only in the effect of work. He knew the southern pole department heads were all in on the usage and they knew he knew. They also knew he knew the new president. It gave him a bit of leeway he never really used but that he knew he had.

The images showed Grace had departed the shuttle several hours ago, but that she hadn’t been sighted anywhere recently. He slid the image to the side with a wave of his hand and brought up the other three messages.

All three were from the south pole departments, one from a department head, the others were from two scientists who were currently working in two different domes on two different projects.

Reading through the messages he brought up a map and updated the seismic activity. All three scientist reported an increase in underground shock waves that actually blacked out one smaller dome only an hour ago.

The map lit up with similar instances. Over fifty domes had been effected, but only two were damaged to the point where official evacuation orders were requested. The two domes however were currently under construction and were fairly close to the equatorial sandstorms. There was also an increase in the storms activity

Across the planet net the questions were being asked, and the president’s office had sent out a message indicating that astronomical data indicated that the coming Moon Fall was partially to blame as this kind of disturbance only happened every several thousand years and that it wouldn’t pose much of a problem if it was just waited out. All current constructions in the two domes was discontinued and people were evacuated till further notice. As no one was permanently settled into the domes it wasn’t very hard to pull the plug on the two projects.

Several other outlying domes were evacuated and moved to larger domes and given a three month Central passes, if the old domes could not be fixed they were guaranteed settlement in any other dome given space requirements and population of the preferred dome.

Peiter was a bit confused, as he checked the local Cloud and found no real mention of the limited evacuations. Some rumors were being thrown about but quickly squashed by simplistic ideas of either poor building standards or just the smaller domes not being quiet up to the task of building their domes.

Peiter opened a channel and set it to private.

An old man with fuzzy white thin hair was rubbing his eyes and grunted. “Who is this? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Garibaldi, it’s Peiter.”

The old man with a large bulbous nose grunted dismissively. “Son, I’m old and I don’t care who you are, I’m closing this line.”

“Don’t you...” The line cut.

Peiter slammed his hand against the console. His fingers ran over the console as buttons lit and the screen went black and reopened the link. The image was of Garibaldi’s balding head, the light from the screen lit his dark bedroom and the old man grumbled. Glaring at the screen he let out an angry curse.

“Arthur, it’s me. Peiter.” He said, his frustration showing in his voice.

“Boy, you just made the worst mistake... hacking a senio...” He stopped and blinked. Sitting up he grabbed for his glasses. Garibaldi was one of the few people along with Peiter who hadn’t undergone any whitewater enhancements. It wasn’t a large group of people but there were some scientists who didn’t see the need, and then there were the more vehement of the type that called themselves ‘purists’, and they were a loud minority that tended to spring up every so often in the political circuit but never really got any traction as getting the enhancements were choice and no one was forced. “Peiter?” The man blinked in recognition as he peered at him through his glasses. “Well I must say I’m impressed and a little disappointed. I’d figured you’d wait till one of us older farts broke down.” Clearing his throat he grabbed a glass of water. “Maybe I should go in for it, you look like you pulled ten or more off ya.”

The vid followed the old man into his restroom where he gargled and spit out the water into the sink then took another drink and gulped it down. Letting out a breath he coughed and cleared his throat again.

“It wasn’t by choice, had an accident. Did you hear about Gillespie?”

Garibaldi looked up as he washed his face, the eyes rimmed by age and big bags of sleepless nights. “I heard his dome collapsed, no survivors. Not that I’d expect anyone else lived with the old man but yeah. Didn’t know you and he were close?”

“We weren’t. He was... Sheila’s supervisor on a few digs, didn’t know that till just recently. He sent me a message, sounded like he’d gone a little crazy. He also sent a recording Sheila had wanted me to hear. Saw the storm hitting his dome so I went to evacuate him. Was too late. He’d tapped a whitewater vein on his own, there was an accident and yeah, new me.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed, as for a little crazy I’m amazed you didn’t come across any booby traps. Gillespie was a very paranoid man. You sure he tapped a whitewater vein? Gillespie hated whitewater. You heard about that didn’t you?”

Peiter shook his head. “No, I hardly knew the man besides reputation until yesterday.”

Garibaldi sat down on the edge of his bed and let out a breath. “First lander like me.” He meant those who first arrived on Whitehome back when they thought the whole planet could be terraformed. “We thought this world could be something special, and though it is it’s not what we thought it would be. Gillespie was so sure he’d hit earth, that we’d find a place not covered by the coral. As the years went by he grew despondent and then he had the accident.”

“What accident?”

“Drill pressure overflow valve burst and stray shrapnel caught him across the head. They’d hit one of the strongest veins of whitewater ever. The doctors operated and removed the broken pieces but his brain had suffered major damage to the right hemisphere. Doctor on side, emergency medical first year, used whitewater and selective electrode activation.

“Thought Gillespie was a Purist?”

“He is, or was rather.”

Peiter raised an eyebrow. Any medical response professional was given access to any rigs database in regards to the individuals medical history and preferences. For a doctor to used Whitewater on a patient without taking any regard for their medical records was like doing an unwanted surgery on a patient without their prior consent. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Is now, back then it was emergency procedures at the will of the presiding physician. The damage to the brain was so that ol’Gelespie would have been sucking nutrient through a straw for the rest of his life if he’d been left as is.”

“So you’re saying the whitewater made him...” Peiter made a whirling gesture with his finger near his head.

“Oh no.” Garibaldi grinned. “Gelly was already paranoid to begin with. The Whitewater fixed all the damage, numerous scans and tests proved successful regression of damaged tissue. He even took a trip back to Earth Space for testing.” He tapped his head with his finger. “It was the idea that whitewater had been used on him, that was enough to make him pop his cork, so to speak.” Garibaldi made a popping sound with his finger in his mouth.

“Ah.”

The elder scientist stretched and in mid stretch he dropped his hands to the counter and seemed to loose his footing, bracing himself against the wall. Objects on the wall seemed to shift and fall crashing on the ground.

“Garibaldi?”

The man stood up and the room seemed to stop shaking. “Damn, that was a big one.”

“What happened?”

“Quake, third one in the last cycle.”

“Wait, third? I haven’t heard anything save rumors, are the quakes getting worse?”

The man nodded. “Seems so, most of the smaller domes, private and family owned pioneer domes have been evacuated near the equator. I hear South Five through Three have been evacuated as well.”

Peiter nodded. “I’d heard many of the domes under construction were put on hold, but it’s being played down politically.”

Garibaldi nodded and then looked up. “I’m getting an alert message, hold on.”

Another light light lit up the room and a monotone voice could be heard. “Citizens of South Dome 231, this is an executive oversight order of evacuation Due to unforeseen seismic activity beyond our control all citizens are to head towards tube exits and shuttle evacuation area immediately. Government personnel will be assisting all citizens in the evacuation. At this time no populated Domes close to the Equatorial Storm Line have been breached nor have any lives been lost. At the current gravitational event of the Moon Fall is a considered cause Whitehome Council has issued evacuations of all underlying Domes within five thousand kilometer radios of the no fly zone at the Equatorial Line. Other Domes are being evacuated as well. It is the Counsel’s opinion that after the main phase of the Moon Fall has passed, the situation will correct itself. All domes will have their integrity checked and at this time the estimated return to your homes is forty five days. All citizens will be given temporary lodging in the mega-domes at both Northern and Southern Colony Polar Complexes. Evacuation will be carried out in level division according to standard procedures. Thank you for your time and be safe.”

“Well that tears it then.”

Peiter was a little stunned. “You got a place to stay?”

“Gov’s got standard living facilities all set up it seems, unless you got a second bed?”

“Got a couch, and a secure office. Something going on and I might need your expertise.”

Garibaldi scratched his nose. “I’ll get back to you. If I don’t like where they put me, I’ll probably take you up on that.”

“Five hours. Get settled, or not, but I want you here. I got a bad feeling something big’s going to go down. I haven’t heard anything on the news cloud about any evacuations.”

Garibaldi nodded, “I’ll pack and get on the first shuttle there.”

Peiter nodded.

“Peiter.”

“Yeah?”

“How big a deal are we thinking here?”

Peiter shook his head. “No idea yet. I need you to look at something I brought back with me from Gillespie. Now get going.”

The screen went blank.

The schedule indicated thirty one hours and ten minutes till he had to be at the presidents quarters. He got dressed quickly and freshened up. At the counter he looked down at the vial of whitewater and the yellowish veils next to it. They lay in his pack jutting out and he pulled them all out and lay them on the counter side by side.

He tapped on the counter encoding a few programs to activate and a stool jutted up from the floor and he went to get two cups of water. He snagged a few tablets he’s ordered and put two into one of the cups. He also tapped the dispenser and took out a bowl from the counter and slid it into the crevice. Three square tablets fell into the bowl and there was a sizzling sound and a hum and he pulled the bowl out. Inside was a rice bowl dish covered in egg and chicken. From the side a set of chopsticks appeared and he snagged them and set them atop the bowl, steam rolled up from the rim slipping passed the two chopsticks and dissipated about a foot above the bowl. The smell from the old earth dish made his stomach growl and he felt a sharp pain in his gut. Realizing he hadn’t eaten anything in over 12 hours he dug in, devouring the bowl contents along with a large glass of water.

He let out a refreshing gasp and he set the bowl down. He went to wash his face in the bathroom and brush his teeth. He felt full but also he noticed he still felt less than appeased. Placing his palm on the mirror of the bathroom a screen with his bio-stats popped up. His electrolytes were fair but he needed some vitamin supplements. He needed to be careful of muscle and joint pains due to the whitewater regression. Dormant genes are activated much in the science of embryonic stem cell regression has worked to regrow limbs and internal body parts. Whitewater seemed to work with dormant adult stem cells still present in the body.

Peiter didn’t know much about it but he remembered some scientists comparing the biological effects to that of zebra fish or some jelly fish from back on earth. He looked at the numbers on the screen and indicated the vitamin patch he’d need. Slow integration into the system of vitamin’s was considered better after whitewater regression. Sudden jolts of minerals and enzymes sparking the bodies need to absorb them within the first forty eight hours had been known to cause painful side effects. He had to be careful, most patients were prepped for the changes and given adequate information on how to convert into their new physical bodies. The body not only had to reset it’s entire process of absorbing and distributing chemicals but also there were freshly regrown nerves flowing through his body and sometimes patients would complain of strange sounds, feelings of movement in the skin, and a strange shivering or sweating.

He went back to the counter and sat in front of the veils He put one of the now empty glasses in front of him and he picked up the vial of whitewater he’d had on his desk. He set up a visual recording and scans of the chemical interaction he was expecting to see again. This was going to be on a much smaller scale but he wanted to be sure it recorded everything.

He’d set the cup to be sterilized and carefully uncorked the whitewater vial. Pouring it into the cup he watched as it slipped out of the glass like a translucent mercury. Whitewater was only slightly thicker than water, but less viscus than oil or grease. It didn’t stick to surfaces like glass or mirrored surfaces. On metals it began to built upon the material creating thin layers of the same material atop the surface. There was only one way to halt the process and that was with induced electricity at varying levels of strength. Strangely enough certain extended lengths or frequencies of electrical current increase would cause the whitewater to perform change into the coral substance the planet was covered in.

He watched the temperature readouts of the liquid in the glass as it warmed to the temperature of it’s container. No change.

Pulling one of the veils of the yellow liquid corks off he poured a small amount into the whitewater. There was a sudden shark electrical reaction, the glass shimmied slightly and there was arching static charges being read, but it settled down. The yellow liquid seemed to evaporate off the surface of the whitewater. The temperature had spiked at over two hundred degrees Fahrenheit but was now back down to room temperature, all within a few seconds. After a minute the glass and it’s contents were back to room temperature. The glass was reinforced to take temperature changes, normally a regular glass would have shattered with that kind of temperature change.

There had been no smell or release of gas in the chemical reaction, it was almost as if the whitewater evaporated the yellow chemical, breaking it down and absorbing it. In the glass sat one ounce of whitewater, after adding the two teaspoon amount the contents of the cup had increased by only one quarter of a teaspoon. The observation indicated exactly what he’d sermized. Next he used four teaspoons of the yellow liquid. The reaction came with a loud popping sound and the magnified view on the screen behind the vial showed something white and thin like hair appear and quickly vanish. Still no smell or smoke but a crackle of electricity. The first spark barely even measured on the readouts, this time the spark was measured at 210 volts. The whitewater had however only increased another quarter of a teaspoon.

Peiter frowned.

The yellow vial was half empty and he took a deep breath and poured the remainder of the vial into the cup.

There was a bright flash and a sizzling sound and this time a white tendril as thick as a hair appeared and wiggling around separating into several other thin hairs. This close the white tendril’s looked more like whipping flames, or wisps of smoke and vanished at the ends. Like thin worms they wiggled violently and some tried to creep up the side of the glass. The readouts showed a steady flow of electricity at about 350 volts and there was also a strange magnetic resonance in the glass now. The magnetic resonance produced a field around the glass and the glass seemed to vibrate. The tendrils seemed to curl up together and form a kind of pillar that sprouted almost to the top of the glass that glowed brighter and brighter until within an intense flash the liquid seemed to fall back into the cup, white tendrils no longer visible. In the instant of the flash the screen and all the lights in the room seemed to flicker.

“Check recorded readings against the earlier readings currently encrypted in data-pad dated for yesterday morning.”

“Reading data-pad recording. Error, corrupted data path found in video backup, extrapolating possible but unable to render corrupted data.” The response came back within a few seconds.

“Show me.”

The image of him in the hallway underground popped up and he sped up the recording. As soon as he added the yellow liquid into the whitewater the image froze and blurred.

“Explanation?” He asked watching as the screen flickered with damaged data. He slipped the white shirt over his head and ticked it into his pants.

“Increased output of electromagnetic force shut down all electronic recording and data processing devices.”

“Electromagnetic interference, radiation?”

“Probability uncertain. The environmental suits are layered with enhanced nanoferite and high capacity anti frequency distortion conductive fabric meant to keep internal operations running in case of increase radiation or possible intense EMI or RFI. The data devices used to record also were created to withstand certain levels of EMI and RFI.”

“How intense would the interference need to be to produce this kind of damage to the recording devices?”

“An intense burst of non-ionizing Gamma particles is currently the only viable option, any other such intense radiation would have terminated any life-form within seconds.”

Peiter bit his lower lip. “What if the person was exposed to a large amount of whitewater during or shortly after a burst of Gamma particles?”

The computer didn’t reply at first.

“Could the increase in Gamma particles along with the introduction of whitewater cause a non harmful regression effect?”

“Due to the particular use of whitewater in regression there is no known outcome of such a situation any data-bank, however due to the mysterious nature of whitewater it is possible that a super intense burst of radiation could trigger the whitewater’s regression effects, however the possibility of the effects being non harmful are a statistic improbability of a factor of 1 million thirty five thousand and sixty seven to one.”

Peiter stood up and paced through the room, he grabbed the cloths he’d pulled out earlier and began to get dressed.

“Compare the two mixture attempts earlier, what are the correlations? Link those to all readings before and after the data damaged by the recording.”

There was a flash on the screen and an image appeared, a line graph that showed the spike in power. Three lines indicated in three different colors shot up violently and came back down each to a greater extent. The tallest one stopped halfway up the chart, turned white, then continued down later on the chart. This was the projected power spike that had been lost.

Increased Gamma emissions were seen in the larger attempt and a minor amount on his second attempt in the office.

“What does this mean? What is this stuff?”

“Scans show it is a sulfur ferite and distilled alcohol and bio polymer mix, it is essentially a very complex chemical dampening agent, a similar solution is used to apply to the outer coatings of deep space probes and solar monitoring stations to reduce radiation exposure.”

“Interpret chemical reaction recorded and correlated.”

“Processing.”

He leaned on the counter and stared at the glass of whitewater and then to the vial of the dampening agent. Why did the whitewater have this kind of reaction when mixed with this specific concoction, never in any recorded studies of the strange liquid had it ever done anything save for reproduce or regenerate matter that had been introduced to it. It almost looked like the whitewater was turning this agent into whitewater, violently.

There was a sudden chime that indicated that someone was at his office door.

“Silent mode. Full Data Lock.”

Who could that be? He wondered as he let the experiment sink into the table, hiding it from sight. He locked the counter and stepped out of the room and into his office.