Chapter 35• Slate and Smoke
*Still Day 19 of Origenes Crisis*
/
A ten-minute walk from 'Respite crater', Origenes sat waiting for us.
Once Weston had assisted me back inside, I re-examined my work.
The most pressing matter was the condition of the Spectrograph. It sat at 20% power by the time I'd rewired a few ports on the sides- still, it was just the dregs of emergency power it still had.
If I couldn't get it back to at least 50% power before the solar arrays could recharge it, fixing anything else on the inside wouldn't make any difference.
The electronic layout was messy, as it had been in the nerve-racking simulations I'd undergone. "Slabs" the size of record cases- tiny screws holding them in place. I had to be Lazer-focused to avoid breaking them or cutting my own suit open.
Also, losing the ridiculously tiny screws would prove to be an additional issue.
NASA had delayed in metal 3D printing replacement screws, as they didn't mass-produce that size of screw anymore. A special order of 30 original-model and an additional 40 3D-printed screws were all I'd have. It sounds like a ton, right? Well, unfortunately, my first attempt to replace one resulted in me losing all 4 original screws.
It started out fine. A frenzy of focus allowed me to align the smallest screwdriver we had up to the seemingly centimeter-long screw head. I had all four stuck to a magnet- the best way to ensure they didn't fall- and began to pull the slab out. However, I didn't realize exactly when the slab was fully out of its compartment thanks to the moon gravity.
Since the secondary mirror had almost squished me, I was especially aware of things possibly falling. But even though I grabbed it before it hit the floor, it managed to smack the magnet off of my belt. When I picked it up- the screws were gone.
I let out a frustrated growl.
"What's the matter?", Weston inquired from outside the telescope's external shell.
"The slab knocked the screws somewhere- I won't be finding those any time soon", I admitted.
"Oh, that sucks", Weston replied.
There's got to be a better way, I thought.
NASA had never foreseen extensive repair missions for that part of the telescope, so re-making the screw-system was never a priority.
The only silver lining was that NASA had made a change in my favor. Our technology had advanced since Origenes' debut, so the replacement slabs were specially designed to do the work of multiple. Although they were twice as thick as the originals- giving almost no wiggle-room in the tiny shelf-like compartments, I'd only need to replace 15 out of the 90 in total. The issue was: the new models relied even more heavily on the sun's energy to work and run power through even the dormant slabs and make the telescope function.
While I was reasoning through this, Weston had already set up the additional experiments that NASA had given to us; collecting moon-dust, filtering regolith, measuring solar levels- all far away from the telescope so they wouldn't be damaged.
"Weston, I'm going back to grab the replacement slabs- they're back at Chapel", I let him know.
"We're supposed to do that last, though, right? Or are you somehow already done?", Weston said, "because I support you 100% if that's the case!"
In addition to his deep desire to go home, he was entirely right, I had originally planned to work my way to the end and then seal it up for good.
My Interior repair list consisted of:
-Reinforcing any weaknesses in the insulation to keep the cold out
-Removing the communication antenna that was still sticking out of the floor
-Removing the remnants of the broken primary mirror
-Replacing that mirror
-Then, rewiring the remainder of the dead circuits and cables inside the support system module beneath Origenes' fine guidance sensor.
I started with the glass dust on the bottom, sweeping it together and scooping piles into a bin.
I would have rather made a small hole in the bottom and just swept it onto the moon directly.
But NASA very clearly stated that they wanted the least amount of waste on the moon as possible. It also presented the risk of sending melted glass flying everywhere once we used the ascent engine to move the telescope- putting everyone and everything involved at unnecessary risk.
It took 15 minutes, but I wasn't going to replace it until I was done with the back half. I climbed my way out of the telescope interior and turned to Weston.
"Head's up", I said, before lightly tossing the bin down to the ashy ground.
"What's in there?", Weston asked as he strolled over to it.
"It's the mirror bits, our papers said the engineers wanted to keep them", I replied.
"Jeez, really? Are they going to melt it down or something?", Weston asked, unenthused.
"I doubt it, but now I have enough room for both of us to move around- and I'll need you for the next piece!", I said.
"Oh yay, it's nice to feel wanted", Weston said with his signature tone.
"You don't feel left out, do you?", I asked.
"Oh, trust me, I don't envy being in that tin can at all. I'm sick of staring at nothing out here, though. The moon-joy has definitely worn off", Weston replied in a huff.
"Do you need to take a walk?", I said, reminding Weston of his own advice.
"I'll take a walk- back to Chapel. Do you need anything else before we go?", he replied curtly.
"No, I'm ready now", I said, climbing down.
I could imagine how boring waiting on me to fix things he couldn't see must have been, but I had hoped for some enthusiasm on his end. The truth was, fixing the spectrograph without another set of paws wasn't exactly impossible. Of course, I could find a way, but Weston's help would make the next steps easier.
As we walked back to our lunar module, I tried to chit-chat with Weston. He wasn't really responding, though. Everything both verbal and non-verbal indicated he wasn't in the mood.
So, I stopped trying and looked to the moon's horizon again. The stark contrast in color-hauntingly beautiful. Impossible to get lost, since our boot-prints made their own path from Chapel and back.
Then, I looked at the Earth- something I had purposely not been doing. It made me far too sad.
Although I was still astounded by my position, I was starting to notice how deceptive the moon was, the way everything looked the same. I was always scanning back and forth, searching for landmarks to confirm where we were, but feeling kind of disappointed once I found them. Of course that rock is still there, nothing ever changes here. It's the moon. It's beautiful and I love it, but it almost felt like the moon itself was never made for inhabitants- in any capacity.
I had to say something, "So Weston", I began again, "I feel like I haven't properly thanked you for saving me. When the mirror fell, I actually thought I was going to die."
He simply said, "You're welcome."
"Really, I mean it", I said.
"I believe you", he replied.
"It's just, you know- back home we were always taught to save each other before anything material. 'Always let a treehouse fall, but never your fellow pups'- that's what Ryder says", I said.
"Mmph", he made a noise as if he weren't really listening.
"I don't remember everything exactly, but you didn't hesitate to help me- that's a rescuers greatest trait, you know?", I said as we stood under Chapel; the uncomfortably long walk being done.
"I'm not a rescuer. That's just what we're supposed to do. Do you need any help with this?", he asked, changing the subject.
"No, I mean- maybe, it's just a box. It should be fine. But having another set of paws to carry would help me a lot", I said.
I remotely opened the rover compartment and grabbed the box. Easy as pie.
Weston grabbed the other side and immediately remarked, "This isn't that heavy, you can carry this on your own, can't you?"
"Oh, uh- I guess", I said.
So, I carried the box back myself-for the entire, silent walk. I had time to think that I didn't really want.
Weston only broke the silence when we strode back to the Easternmost side of Origenes.
"Hang on", I said, a bit winded. I sat down on the box to rest, half-hoping it would make Weston feel a bit bad for not helping me carry it.
"Are you feeling 'in the zone' yet?", Weston asked me out of the blue.
I wondered if he was referencing my performance in the sim on Earth when the power went out. That was really my 'claim to fame' in the NASA conversation circles until the underwater sims started.
"No, not really. But once we replace the spectrograph slabs, maybe I will", I said.
He nodded.
"Are you ready to go in?", I asked, ascending from my seated position.
He took a deep breath, "Okay", he said.
He climbed up our 'entry system' and descended into the heart of the telescope.
The first thing out of his mouth was, "Huh, it's warmer in here than I thought it would be."
I smiled. That was a good sign, especially coming from him.
Once I went in with the box on my back, it felt like the space had shrunk significantly.
There's so much space that you have to give another astro for them to work properly and we didn't have nearly enough.
15 slots to fill, it shouldn't be too bad, I thought.
I began to unscrew the hatch.
"Do we need to take out the dead ones?", Weston asked, already peering at the newly exposed circuitry.
"No, these will directly circumvent those even though they aren't active, the new ones are pretty advanced in their power-delivery that way", I said.
"And irreplaceable, yeah?", Weston replied.
His tone of voice sounded as if he were preparing to smash one right in front of me.
"...yeah", I said back.
"Well, I'll hold the screws. Is that all?", Weston asked.
"Actually, can you stand to the left of me? I'm going to unscrew 3 of the 4 screws, we can rotate the panel out of the way so I can replace them quicker", I said.
We swapped places and got going. It went surprisingly well. I slid the dead slabs out and replaced them with the thicker, high-delivery models. Tiny activator lights glowed yellow as they began rerouting and redistributing the leftover power.
"Look at that, these things really do work!", I said astounded.
"Pretty, but what's it mean?", Weston asked.
"They're doing their job. Readout says that we're already back up to 33% power", I said.
Weston paused, "Arlo says he's getting bored, but also that we should 'keep doing whatever it is we're doing'."
"Following your orders, captain!", I joked, knowing Arlo still couldn't hear me.
Replacements 1-10 went off without a hitch, as Weston and I got into a rhythm. But soon, Weston stated he needed a break; having to bend down more due to his slightly taller build.
"Yeesh, I'm gonna be really sore tomorrow; If my current soreness is any indication", Weston said as he sat down.
"You just let me know when you're ready again", I said, starting replacement #11.
"Wait, before you continue on, can you do me a favor really quick?", Weston asked.
"Sure, what is it?", I asked.
"I don't really know what I'm looking at, here. Do you mind giving me a 'tour' of this thing or something?"
I knew he'd studied the telescope charts, at least a little bit, but I couldn't deny that it looked far different than any drawing.
I replied, "Ok, I mean there isn't that much to show. I know the last time you ran in because you had to, not because you wanted to."
"Like what's this thing on the back wall? I don't remem-"
"Wait Weston! WATCH WHERE YOU STEP!", I shouted.
I wasn't expecting Weston to start walking, especially without looking down first. And again, I was just late enough to warn him that the satellite dish was still jutting up from the underside.
He tripped over the dish, managing to maneuver away from it as he fell, twisting his back legs, but he smacked the metal below him with a loud thud.
In that moment I thought, wow, he saved me and now he's cracked his helmet open. I lost Weston, all because I forgot to tell him about a tripping hazard. What kind of partner am I?
Of course, I was just panicking. Weston wasn't dead. He groaned and stood back up.
I'd seen the old videos of astronauts falling on the moon. Sure, it looks goofy and may seem like it's no big deal. But liquids and gases can easily leak into your suit if you fall. It's a huge deal, even if it looks minor.
Our suits were much better than those in the 1960s as far as safety was concerned. Any fall was scary and any damage to our life support systems could prove fatal.
"I'm so sorry, I forgot to tell you about that. Or did I? Well, it doesn't matter", I had rushed to his side and helped him up, "Are you alright?"
He turned to me, not saying anything at first.
"Weston? Can you hear me?", I asked, concerned that his radio had suffered some irreparable damage.
"I'm. Leaving.", he said. He wasn't joking. I could tell he was beyond furious, just by his voice.
"Wait, but- I've got to check you out first", I asked, then added, "We aren't supposed to go anywhere alone, anyway."
"Then you come with me", he basically ordered me.
"Please don't", I tried to smile but I matched his seriousness, "There's nothing to be embarrassed about", I assured.
"Who said I was embarrassed?", he said coldly as he trudged past me. He was close enough that I could see his face through the helmet- there was absolutely no doubt that he was done.
I mustered all of my bravery, "But- we still have stuff to do. We have to do this the right way."
Weston didn't reply to me.
So, I said, "Weston, please. This is my only chance- I didn't have many back home. I don't want things to break down now."
He simply climbed out and said, "You coming or what?"
I sighed. There was still so much to do, so much energy I still had left. Nothing made me feel worse than leaving a job unfinished.
I ultimately decided to concede.
So, that's how our first "real" EVA ended. A truly uncomfortable walk back to Chapel again. Weston was noticeably limping, but I wasn't going to break the silence. Our lunar module looked a lot more home-y knowing it offered the rest I really needed.
I let Weston go in first. Depressurize-Repressurize, rinse and repeat.
But, as soon as I removed my helmet, my stomach unleashed the loudest growl I'd ever heard.
Oh, yeah…food, I thought.
I didn't realize how hungry I was; almost as if I'd forgotten food existed.
I grabbed the first thing I could.
Rehydratable beef bourguignon. I'd have to put it into a sort of "water microwave" before I could heat and eat it, but I didn't care.
"Rocky, you ate breakfast. How are you so hungry?", Weston asked me, marking the first thing he'd said to me since asking me if I would leave the telescope with him. (I knew he wasn't really asking).
"I'm not gonna question it- I need food!", I said back, "That's all I know."
By the time it was ready, I demolished the entire plate and had already started heating another.
Weston sat down, genuinely baffled at how fast I was going.
"Rocky, you could at least take your suit off first", he said.
"No, no I couldn't. I can't wait any more", I replied, before diving back in.
We had all types of food: The Irradiated Meat was beef steak that gets sterilized with ionizing radiation to keep it from spoiling. It was safe, but I still avoided it if I had the choice.
Neither one of us had tried any of the freeze-dried coffee or tea mixes or the powdered lemonade and orange drinks in their 'isotope-looking' vacuum-sealed packages.
We also had scones, waffles, and rolls formulated to have a shelf life of up to 18 months. The Rehydratable foods were the best in my opinion, you just had to eat them quickly.
Weston was eating a scone, watching me eat as though I'd been stranded on an island for the last month.
I snapped out of my food love affair for a moment, "Do you need the microwave, Weston?"
"No, you do your thing", Weston allowed, "Please remember to breathe, that's all I ask."
I ate 5 in total. "Okay, I feel normal again", I said as I stretched out and rolled onto my back.
"Thank goodness, I was beginning to worry you'd eat everything."
I looked over at him, "….What do you have over there?"
"It's an Oatmeal bar, I'm assuming you want one- or are you just being nosy", Weston replied.
"Hang on, let me think about it", I said before willing myself up and finally removing my EVA suit. Thankfully, since we were working in the telescope a lot, most of the moon dust fell off of us there, so we didn't track much into Chapel.
I returned to my seat, and he handed me a new bar before I said anything. I exhaled all of the stresses I could, me on my 'half' of Chapel and Weston on his. The unspoken boundaries were torture to me, though Weston didn't seem to care.
So, I said, "I know…. Today wasn't the best day-"
"Today was fine", Weston interrupted me. I stayed quiet, abandoning my previous thought. Weston turned and peered out the window again, as if he were missing something.
So I said, "I'm homesick too-don't worry. I mean, don't worry if you are- I am too. I've even started forgetting we're even on the moon from time to time- but the trainers said that's normal too."
He didn't say anything.
I chuckled, "It's funny, during Apollo 11 they actually took a call from the president. I know we have a radio and a phone. I just feel like calling the others- Ryder and the pups I mean. They'd love to see this stuff, I'm sure it's all they can think about."
I was hoping Weston would tell me about someone he wanted to call too. Maybe a best friend, family, anyone. But instead, he said, "Rocky, everything doesn't have to be about the PAW Patrol, you know."
That response was enough to shut me down. My ears drooped.
I didn't really feel like I'd talked about it that much. Had I? Weston was the only person I'd been around, so only he could say.
Yet, that terse reply was really the only time I felt like Weston- the harshest Shiba Inu I'd ever met- was actually addressing me. And that hurt.
Sure, he thought I was funny, at least in a child-like way. But I still wasn't his peer yet. To sum up the day, I'd use one word: Uncomfortable.
***End Ch.35***