A SATELLITE AT RISK

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All eyes turned to see the two monitors, as Phil was moving away. He turned his chair toward us, putting his arms behind his sweaty head.

"I'm a bad ass," he smiled pleased.

Both screens had red and green lines crossing up and down at a high speed...

"Phil," the doctor called.

The programmer grimaced and looked at the screens with the corner of his eye.

"Damn it," he said as he insistently pressed the same key with his thick index finger.

The lines vanished leaving a dark screen.

The programmer moved away again and we came near. In a monitor, an amazing three-dimensional image, a cross section, of half the moon, was depicted. The coordinates indicated that it was a polar cut. The image was as neat as a hologram. It clearly showed an inverted T shape underground edification. It was evidently Mama Bat.

"Where are we?" I inquired curiously.

Phil's chubby finger pointed to one end of the lower part of the bizarre construction; the other hand was drumming impatiently on the table.

Suddenly, the image colored in some areas. Close to the surface in yellow, a little lower, in orange and reddish; the proximities of the lunar nucleus was represented as a small dark red ball...

Phil rubbed his hands and pressed a key.

"Network on the first quarter."

All of a sudden, miniscule green dots started to show up near the yellow layer.

"Normal seismic waves," the doctor whispered.

Darwin moved his head forward a bit more and fixed his eyeglasses.

"Are those seismic waves?"

"That's right" the doctor answered. "Microquakes."

The animation was awesome. The seismic waves were rapidly breaking up as they touched what the lunar ground should have been.

"And how are we going to recognize the remassification?" Darwin observed.

"Interpreting the signals correctly" the doctor answered, absent minded.

We had forgotten about the crisis just like that. That image and its fascinating information had captivated us.

"Network on the second quarter," Phil intervened.

The following section was instantly colored. There were no green spots, but well defined waves, emerging from the nucleus, in red. They turned purple as they crossed an intermediate region, that is, the orange one.

"What are those waves?" I asked intrigued. "Is it some kind of thermal emission?"

The doctor put his hand on his chin, thoughtful. He said nothing else.

"Network on the third quarter," Phil interrupted. "We've reached a longitude of 179 degrees east."

The view was very similar to the previous one. The purple waves, which saturated the intermediate region, were darkening as they went up to the surface.

"Why do they get dark?" Darwin wanted to know and fixed his glasses in such way that they reflected the animation.

The doctor breathed out and pointed out some vertical lines.

"Because of the faults..."

"Are those faults?" I jumped.

They looked small on the screen, but their real size must have been many miles!

"Strong quakes hit that zone," the doctor continued. "They're expanding..."

"Doctor Masterton!" was heard at that moment.

One of the guards was walking swiftly toward us. Excluding the programmer, the threesome got up.

"Sir," the guard said saluting the doctor in a military fashion. "Voodoo and his people have escaped."

The doctor nodded lightly. Implicitly, he had taken possession as the new director of Mama Bat.

"Do not let out any more Bats from the base," he ordered in the unmistakable tone of someone who is in control. "Have the rest of the Bats maintain their positions." He looked away. "Find the Major and put him through to this room."

"Got it," the guard said and he retreated with a military salute.

The doctor turned to the monitor—Darwin and I imitated him—and made no comment about the news about Voodoo escaping, instead, he focused on the disturbing signals revealed by the animation. One more time, in a lecturing tone of voice, he explained:

"There is a demassification at an extraordinary accelerated rhythm..."

"But the SVM is not demassifying anymore," I objected. "Is it?"

"No. Not any more. That's what's weird."

Another section came alive.

"Quadrant four A," Phil announced.

"There's the epicenter," the doctor whispered and put his hand on his chin. "It can't be..."

Before jumping in with questions, I gave a glance to the recently animated area. A swarm of seismic waves came out from a dot located in the east.

"What cannot be?" Darwin asked.

There was no immediate answer.

"Could you verify the signals?" the doctor asked the programmer.

The chubby index finger moved over the keyboard and landed on a key.

The animation froze and vanished.

"Done," he said.

The screen blinked. The animation reappeared. This time, I noticed how the waves radiated from the dot—about 40 degrees south and 170 degrees east—,went through the orange region, inversely though. Descending. As they reached the nucleus, they turned purple, and the nucleus resent them in a stronger shade.

"There is another SVM on the moon," finally the doctor gave his verdict and put his hand on his head. "And it doesn't belong to Mama Bat."

SUNGLASESS AND ROCKETS  Part 2: The MachineWhere stories live. Discover now