Moon Girl Read online

  Moon Girl

  By

  Al Past

  Copyright 2020 by Al Past

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All rights reserved.

  Cover designed by MiblArt

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Matt Méndez had been a reporter for the Alpine, Texas Avalanche for only two years. During that time, he interviewed several hundred people, but nearly all of those interviews were assigned to him. The job was enjoyable, but few of these assignments were of much importance to him.

  Why?

  Because he had never found a story that truly sparked his interest.

  Until today.

  Matt was in the stacks of the Sul Ross State University library researching an article on the history of water rights in arid West Texas when a large stack of books on one table caught his eye. The largest volume was open, the opposing pages covered with illustrations of ancient wedge-shaped marks on clay tablets.

  Cuneiform? Interesting.

  A grad school survey class had called cuneiform one of the world’s first writing systems, maybe six thousand years old. The accompanying text was in German. Spanish is common in Texas but who around here reads German?

  A book next to it was closed, but the spine proclaimed The Derivation of Topological Structures, serious advanced math. Another was The History of the Ancient World. There was also a thick volume seemingly on evolutionary biology, though the complete title was partially hidden by another book on material science, of all things.

  Bizarre! Surely there was a Ph.D. behind this, but what kind of Ph.D.? I have got to meet the guy who is interested in all these wild topics.

  Matt’s journalistic senses were starting to tingle.

  There could be a story here.

  Maybe an unusual story, one that would fascinate people and even get him a raise. Stranger things have happened.

  Keeping an eye out for the mysterious genius, Matt spent half an hour taking notes on water rights and the El Paso Salt War. While jotting down yet another item someone walked past him, laid another book on the pile, and sat down.

  What? The brilliant mystery person was a young woman. She had opened the new book and was leafing through the back pages, probably the index.

  Matt was dumbfounded. Picking up his notes and books he moved closer. From the new seat to one side it was clear she was young, almost a teenager: nothing like a distinguished professor. Opening his notebook, he pretended to scan it while studying her over the top.

  The woman was completely absorbed in what she was doing. Her dark brown hair, worn in a shoulder-length ponytail, was so smooth the rows of overhead lights could be counted in it. The reflections shimmered as she looked from one book to another. At last she stood and glided gracefully to a globe on a stand at the end of the room.

  Wow.

  No way was this the typical student, twiddling a pencil, messing with her cell phone, tapping a foot. She was dressed like a student, but she moved with unconscious grace, like an athlete or a dancer, extraordinary and utterly entrancing.

  She stood on tiptoe to study the globe, referring to the book in her hand, brows drawn together, then back to the globe, nudging it gently in precise movements with slender fingers.

  Everything about her was attractive, riveting, and totally fascinating.

  What an image! There’s got to be a story here. This needs to be recorded. Has to be!

  Without looking down, he reached slowly into his gear bag and eased out the Avalanche’s third best camera. Setting it on the table, he switched it on. Using the little monitor on the back to aim it, he zoomed the lens at the globe fifty feet from him and took two photos. Just before the third shot his cell phone vibrated. Blast it!

  “Hello?” he whispered.

  “Matt!”

  “Yeah.”

  It was Dwayne, from the ad department.

  “Whataburger. Five minutes.”

  “Uh, yeah. OK.”

  Matt enjoyed the burger and fries, but couldn’t stop thinking about that girl. How could he? She was unforgettable. Despite that, he said nothing about her to Dwayne. When he drove back to the library, there she was, walking off campus. She turned right and headed into town. Without hesitating he circled his old pickup through the parking area and followed her.

  Stopped at a red light, he watched her progress down the block with a quick, light step, the ponytail swaying left-right-left-right.

  OK, Matt, what in the world are you doing, man? Stalking a strange girl? Taking pictures of her? That was embarrassing and wrong. Creepy, in fact.

  On the other hand, she was a young person with extraordinary taste in scholarly books. And she took no notes, maybe because she had a photographic memory. And she happened to be striking and move like an angel. She was not ordinary. This was not normal.

  There had to be a story there. If so, he would get her permission for the photos. Newspaper people did that all the time. A car accident, a fire, a shooting…reporters always took photos as events presented themselves. Permissions came later. Shy as Ma
tt was around women, his profession would provide both context and license (and also the courage) to talk to her.

  The light turned green. She was now two blocks ahead and approaching the next corner. He drove past her, turned right at the third block, and pulled over to the curb by an alley. The plan was to stroll back to the street and “just happen” to run into her.

  He got out and was about to walk back to her when she crossed the street, turned right, and headed in his direction, but on the opposite side of the street. Excellent!

  Crossing the street where the alley intersected, Matt waited for her to approach. It took all of fifteen seconds.

  It was his first head-on view. She had a keen-featured face with bright hazel eyes and light tan complexion. It was the perfect face for the intellect so evident in the library. When she noticed him looking at her, her eyes sharpened, out of interest, he hoped.

  For his part he felt zapped as if by an electric shock. He forgot to breathe.

  Whatever was he supposed to be doing? He swallowed hastily.

  “Uh, miss,” he said, “excuse me please. May I ask you a few questions? I’m a re…”

  She halted as soon as he opened his mouth. By the time he’d got to the first syllable of “questions” her eyes flared in panic and she disappeared. Vanished!

  What?

  He didn’t see her turn or start to run. One moment she was frozen in terror and the next fraction of a second she was halfway down the alley and shrinking fast. In the rest of that second she reached the next street and was gone.

  There was a thunk at his feet.

  He’d dropped his notebook.

  She covered that block before it hit the sidewalk. Matt stood there with his mouth open, as if awakening in another dimension. In that instant the whole direction of his life changed.

  Minutes later, back in his truck, his mind was still roiling. Did he black out for a moment? Or had a migraine moment?

  No. No, he hadn’t.

  He was shivering. It took three tries to get the key into the ignition. He started the engine and shifted into drive but kept his foot on the brake. He was recalling her face, in detail, as she walked toward him: intelligent, extraordinary, otherworldly. He could never forget that image, never forget that sensation. Beautiful was a pitiful word for what she was.

  Whatever she was, the woman was now engraved on his heart.

  Had she really done that?

  For God’s sake, who was she?

  Matt would find her again if it was the last thing he ever did.

  He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, carefully let up on the brake, and got the truck rolling.

  Reporters were nothing if not investigators.

  Chapter 1

  Two weeks earlier

  Deep within the interstellar vehicle tucked close against the edge of Crater Albatagenius, one of the moon’s larger craters, the vessel’s crew awakening program commenced running.

  The process took three days.

  Eventually the cool air blowing gently on her face woke her up.

  Her eyelids twitched spasmodically, but they were stuck shut.

  Rubbing helped.

  Gradually, the low lights overhead came into imperfect focus. The woman drew in several breaths, each deeper than the one before. After nearly an hour of gentle stretching of arms and legs and arching back and shoulders, she eased one leg and then the other over the edge of the pallet. Pushing herself up carefully, she felt slightly dizzy, still blinking and rubbing her eyes. The air was humid, with a hint of electricity to it. She was thirsty.

  The clock indicated this awake period was early, way ahead of schedule.

  She cleared her throat, took a slow breath, and repeated both again.

  "Hleo," she croaked, "Hleo, what's going on?"

  "Greetings, My Lady," came the voice of the ship’s robotic station manager. "It's early, I know. I apologize, but it’s my responsibility to make you aware of something of supreme importance. If you please, clean up, have something to eat and drink, and then join me in the control room. At your convenience, of course, dear Anneyn."

  There was no help for it. It had been a good while since she'd checked in on their people. Even so, it was hard to imagine what Hleo might have thought important enough to interrupt her sleep schedule.

  He’d never done that before. What could have changed? Could there be word from home? Very unlikely.

  "Look at this!" he announced, when she finally dragged herself into the control room, stretching and yawning. Much more loosening up was needed. There was no point in hurrying things. Time seemed inexhaustible.

  On the main console were two screens covered with ovals, lines, and rows of calculations and numbers. Her eyes still weren't focusing properly. What was all this? Try as she might, she could find no meaning there. She swallowed and cleared her throat.

  "Hleo, this is not about war or environmental changes or anything else I was expecting. It looks like mathematics. Have you been dabbling in astronomy again, dear Counselor?"

  "Yes, I have."

  He sounded a little defensive.

  "There’s not much to occupy me while you are sleeping. We don't have all the equipment we might wish for scientific endeavors, but I do the best I can. Look at what I've discovered."

  She was stiff as a board, couldn’t see properly, and in no frame of mind for puzzles. But Hleo was sensitive to sarcasm, so she stifled a sharp retort.

  "Maybe you'd better just tell me."

  Her voice sounded rusty.

  "Oh, very well. As you know, this solar system is full of little bits of piffle zooming everywhere. According to my calculations, and I've rechecked them many times, these two meteoroids (two dots blinked) will collide here (a red blinking dot appeared where several lines crossed) and the debris will fall into the sun on this path (more lines blinked)."

  "That's interesting, Hleo."

  She was impressed at first, and then she thought further.

  "When will this happen?"

  "In four years, two hundred and fifty-five days and six hours."

  "What? You woke me up for that? I had an awake period scheduled for two years from now. I could have seen it then, Hleo."

  "No, no! There’s more!"

  The elderly voice went up a major third in excitement.

  "Look at these lines. This one is the orbit of earth. Do you see? Earth will pass directly under the debris field at the worst possible time. It will be showered with meteoroid fragments.

  “If any major piece falls in an ocean, and many certainly will, there will be such tidal waves that coastal cities will be inundated and many inland cities too. And there are likely to be even larger pieces, which will make craters and dust clouds that will cover the entire planet!"

  That got her attention.

  "Hleo, that’s terrible! That would be a catastrophe! Are you sure?"

  "Well, yes. I can't be sure how many pieces will land where, but since the planet is mostly covered in water, there's little doubt that we'll have quite a show."

  "A show? A show?? We can't just sit here and watch! We've got to do something, Hleo!"

  "There's nothing we can do, My Lady. For one thing, we have our orders. We must not interfere. We only observe, and in the case of planet-wide events, we are both required as witnesses by order of the Council of Clans. You know that as well as I. For another, what could we possibly do?"

  "I don't know, Hleo, but we have to do something. These are our people. We can't just sit here and watch them die if we have it in our power to help. We have the escape pod."

  "That is not an option, my child. First, I repeat: we are not to interfere. And second, the escape pod is not a transport vehicle. It is for emergency service. It might land on earth, if one were very skillful, but it could never return. Its engines don’t have the necessary thrust. That's out of the question. I know what you are thinking, honored daughter. Don't even consider going down there! It would be terribly dangerous. And besides,
the people are not all that civilized, as we have seen many times."

  "Hleo, how can you know what I'm thinking when I don't know what I'm thinking? Give me some time to wake up. Maybe then I'll know what to think."

  Her grumpiness had been replaced by contrariness. Hleo was often crochety, but she was the captain. If she decided on a course of action there was not much Hleo could do about it. He did have a point, however. The escape pod had not been designed as a reentry vehicle, a reentry maneuver had never been tested, and she herself had no experience in conning it for such a mission.

  But no matter. She was not going to watch millions die, not without trying to help them. Hleo was just a brain in a bottle, and not always a good-tempered brain in a bottle at that. She was in command. He could be controlled with just a few switches.

  Completing the awakening regimen would require two days of proper nutrition, restorative exercises, and time for research to devise a means of alerting her earthly distant cousins to their danger.

  She would start now.

  Chapter 2

  It was cold and dark in the bottom of the canyon. Anneyn climbed carefully upwards toward the dawning sky, rocks and pebbles clattering lightly under her feet.

  In the dim light were many kinds of strange plants, some with formidable thorns. Touching one proved to be a stupid idea.

  She’d read about and seen numerous videos of planet Earth, but being here was absolutely astonishing. The air smelled fresh and clean and alive, with subtle notes of some cool, spicy fragrance perhaps from a plant.

  Overhead, the sky was lightening on one side. That had to be east. This was West Texas, U.S.A., a canyon below the University of Texas McDonald Observatory, or so she hoped, if the computer’s research map had been correct.

  Eventually she reached the top of the canyon to discover a hard, smooth surface along the crest, extending out of sight around curves both above and below her. A highway, she realized. And there! There was the observatory: two silver domes on two peaks a good ways off, glinting softly in the first light.

  That’s what I want, Anneyn thought. Sucking her prickled finger in the dawn stillness, she began walking up the road toward the observatory.

  After rounding two or three curves it had grown light enough to see the horizon. The view was stupendous. Hills and mountains receded into the distance, in a silence that could almost be heard. The curvature of the earth was visible, yet impossibly far away. A contrail marked the sky, high overhead like a silver scratch. Had the escape pod made one earlier? She had no idea.