O'ryan sat in the driver's seat of a Lunar Ranger and held his head on the wheel, looking intently out at a barren crater of the moon. He was parked at the precipice of the depression, and to his right there was an unnatural graded ramp leading from the bottom of the crater's edge up to the surface. This was among the larger of the craters on the moon, and one of the few with both a ramp and a giant inflated wedge in the center. O'ryan had finished voicing his usual astonishment to Larry, who sat beside him and made no response beyond affirmative noises while he worked away on his tablet. This was a rare occasion, but not rare enough that it hadn't occurred before. It was quite troublesome to be responsible for operating such large machinery, but entirely worth the sight for O'ryan. A drop shipment was on the way, only a dozen seconds out, and O'ryan spotted the glint of metal in the corner of his view from the vehicle. He moved up and pressed his face against the glass to spot it just right. The object was a rounded shipping container and it drifted in a matter of seconds across his view and impacted the inflated wedge. The impact sent dust up everywhere, obscuring the two items. O'ryan felt a rumble from the impact, but without any atmosphere the lack of sound left him feeling like something incredibly wrong had just occurred. He got that feeling a lot while working in space, and it was annoyingly inaccurate.
"It's absolutely redneck," O'ryan said.
"Mhm," Larry murmured.
"The stuff you make with knives and bearskins," O'ryan said.
"Hmm."
"The sort of solution that an orangutan would make. But it works. It just works." O'ryan said.
"Yep… It sure does… Can we get down there already?" Larry said.
O'ryan shook his head at the scene, still bewildered, and started the ranger. These drops occurred several times a month, but the wedges and pickups were typically arranged by drone vehicles. In the event either went down, Larry's team had to manage it manually. He'd have to adjust the wedge and winch the container down onto a large trailer, then drive it off, nothing fancy about it. This was the primary method by which materials were sent to Luna Prime. They were blasted into the moon, and this fact never ceased to please O'ryan. He was one of few that had been working on Luna Prime before the Earth Sling was up and running for standard usage. He remembered the days of complex rocket landings and the sheer expense of structures on the Moon. He remembered when there were less than a hundred employees on the Moon. Since then, that number had doubled every five years, and he did not think it was going to stop anytime soon. The economics of demand finally matched the logistics of execution, at least for a while. He suspected a second Earth Sling wouldn't exist for a long time, and it would ultimately limit the trickling of bodies into space. That and the limit of bone supporting structures. 'But tens of thousands, surely. Maybe a hundred,' he thought, 'Moon children could solve the bodies, so maybe a million? If the residents didn't want to return?' O'ryan's mind drifted off into deeper speculation; there existed the possibility of delivery straight from the asteroids. They'd need refineries, but it could be arranged, just like the digging tools. Metals, asteroids, Green Dawn. Green Dawn would obviously be the one to do it. It could be the next big thing.
'I could be part of it,' he thought.
'No. No way,' O'ryan caught himself. He hated that he was still drifting into this mode of thought. Thoughts of a new career. Not after dealing with those VIPs. If Green Dawn really sent them here, would he survive working for such a company?
'Nonsense. Those were academics, that's not Green Dawn at all.' O'ryan's mind betrayed him, but he fought back against himself.
'I don't think so, buddy, you can tell a man's nature better by the company he keeps.' O'ryan felt comforted by the victory that he granted himself, but knew that it was actually something he heard elsewhere, and didn't quite believe in.
"Lyra has been acting… strange…" Larry said, and O'ryan was ripped from the imaginary argument.
"I bet it was her encounter with Gibble, but I haven't seen him since." O'ryan reassured.
"That's because… I locked him up…" Larry said.
O'ryan said nothing and looked at Larry with concern. Larry did not have such security authority as far as O'ryan knew, for Larry to make such a claim he would have to complain about a previous decision on the trespass. Security was forgiving to guests, but on complaint the standard outcome was practically guaranteed and immune to opposition. Anyone that knew about it could have argued for it and it would've passed. But it was Larry that did so. O'ryan had never witnessed in his entire time on Luna Prime the condemning of a guest. Gibble was there maybe 10 minutes before leaving, and he claimed to have wandered in an accident, didn't he? It was the sort of bullshit alibi you give to support the fact that your trespass was harmless, but was it enough to merit such damning extremes?
"What's the deal, Larry? Come on. What's really going on?" O'ryan asked.
"Direct security violation…" Larry said.
That was all Larry would say, O'ryan figured. Same as always. But it didn't add up. All that vague talk before the tours, and now this? O'ryan stopped the conversation, saddened by the fact that he could neither find any avenue to gain clarity on this situation, nor could he escape its atmosphere. Larry seemed to know that he made a misstep in admitting his deed, for he did not press on about Lyra. The two performed their duty for an hour, loading the cargo onboard, in silence.
The shipping container was unloaded, and the land ranger docked. O'ryan went to a terminal beyond the hangar to post a log of the event, and Larry spoke up, as they began to part ways.
"O'ryan… I like to mind my business… I find myself… in darkness…I can't tell… is it my business, or not? I hope I don't seem… scheming, to you…" With his last huff, Larry walked down a hallway and out of view. O'ryan was not expecting an apology, and merely watched him leave, without any words to offer. Rather than take it as an apology, though, O'ryan wondered what would cause another unprecedented event such as this to occur, why would Larry think that it mattered if he trusted him or not? Larry has never voiced such a concern of his personal appearance or relationship before. O'ryan knew that he did mistrust Larry and that this faux apology wouldn't change that. Not that he was aware of Larry ever lying or exaggerating. O'ryan only felt that Larry knew something that he wouldn't reveal, that he was playing games with information. Trying to get without giving, and in general censoring more of O'ryans world. 'If Larry really knew me,' he thought, 'he wouldn't have said anything in the first place.'
Luckily, O'ryan had a lot of work to do, and would soon forget it all. Unluckily, as he headed to the gravpass to change sectors, he had to pass the main communication array. There, before the door that headed to the databases, was Dr. Mirati and Bill. They were already looking in his direction when he rounded the corner. O'ryan wondered if they were waiting for him, using her interest in the database as plausible deniability alone.
Mirati offered a congenial smile, and feigned no tactics. "O'ryan, what a pleasure to find you here. We were hoping you'd come down this way, actually."
"You were?" O'ryan was surprised, but was under no obligation. He had curiosity but also a firm desire to keep moving and avoid this mess. Her mess, specifically. He opted to slow down, but to keep moving as he passed them, to indicate his urgency.
"It'll have to wait," he said "I've got a lot to do, so sorry."
O'ryan was about to head off, ignoring whatever Mirati was saying, when she reached out and grabbed his wrist. He reflexively jerked it back to his side, but turned around and stopped moving momentarily.
"Gibble wants to see you in his quarters. He wants to tell you the truth about Green Dawn."
O'ryan, insulted at such audacity, furrowed his brow and looked away, regaining his momentum. He did not say anything. After turning away to resume his course he could only think about Mirati in the third person, as if she was not nearby, unable to reconcile the reality of breaking such social boundaries.
'Rude. Impetuous, too. Greedy, probably. Genetic? Or do you have to be raised like that? I could never work with them. Why have I ever bothered thinking about it?' he thought.
'Because she isn't part of Green Dawn, they only purchased her, really. What are they up to? Why all this effort for nothing? What have they found out there in the belts?' his mind continued to usurp his sanity.
'They haven't found anything, they want metals, ores, the usual. They want money. So why is anyone concerned with me, isn't it strange?'
O'ryan reached the gravpass before his mind assailed him again. He could take an early exit close to the sector for biological science, and he finally considered the words that were spoken to him. Was there a truth to Green Dawn, or was Gibble lonely? Gibble was certainly part of something connected to Green Dawn. What else could he know besides his own involvement.
'Except,' he thought 'maybe it's another crank conspiracy theory.'
O'ryan weighed his time. How long would it take, and if it was nothing at all, would he find himself able to cut it short and get out of there? O'ryan thought in circles, staring at the gravpass. He decided to go on the condition that if there was any nonsense, he'd admonish Gibble, and suffer himself as a fool for the last time. The ride felt longer than usual. O'ryan, through great mental effort, decided that he only wanted closure on this whole debacle. Something to explain what was going on for the story he might tell in the future. He didn't want to think about this anymore, and he preferred to spend time thinking about the future and not wondering about what happened in the past. He had zero regrets so far, no unfinished tales, and he wasn't going to lose that record. Peace of mind was of the utmost importance.
O'ryan meandered to the biology labs. He rarely ventured into the labs themselves. Luna Prime was not terribly large, though. A large shopping mall might have eclipsed it as far as distinct sections of areas. It had been several years since he saw this particular one. He didn't dislike animals, but there was a noteworthy odor here. The ultra sterile standards of the rest of the base amplified what was to him a rare olfactory experience.
Gibble was waiting for him on the other side of the door. There were still numerous cages all over the place, but on one of the long bench tables there was a cleared section, which had a single cage in the center, covered with a dark cloth.
"O'ryan! Yes, hello, I'm so glad you made it. We have much to discuss."
"This better be good, Gibble. I wasn't going to come. I'm risking my job here, and I can't stay long," O'ryan said.
"Don't I know it!" Gibble laughed.
"So what's the deal with all this?" O'ryan eyed Gibble.
"Deal is an understatement. It's a proper contract. You can be sure of that. But first, come over here, there is something I want to show you."
O'ryan shrugged and walked over to the covered cage. He heard a croak.
"Frog?" he said.
"Toad," Gibble said. O'ryan shrugged again.
"What's the cloth for?" O'ryan asked, picking it up slightly.
"The environment is set for daytime, but I have these fat ones on a special cycle. Don't let too much light in," Gibble said.
O'ryan lifted the curtain half way, and saw a massive toad staring right at him. It croaked softly. He thought it might be deformed, but he also didn't know much about giant toads, he never saw such large ones in person on Earth. He saw something else next to the toad.
"You know," Gibble said, watching O'ryans gaze drift. "You never can be too exacting of an environment."
O'ryan saw a page of handwriting inside the cage. He lowered the covering back down and looked at Gibble. Gibble nodded.
"Noise pollution is a big factor. A lot of animals are highly sensitive to the sounds, the ambience of their environment. Especially the prey, in case a predator might be looking for them. Without enough silence there could be a lot of anxiety and stress," Gibble nodded again, but slowly and exaggerated this time.
O'ryan raised his eyebrows, and replied with nothing for the third time that day. He lifted the cloth and read the page.
'What do they need an amphibian boy and robot girl for?' it read, in neat pen, 'I haven't quite figured her out, but I know why they want me. They're on a secret mission. Secret space mission. What's the big secret? Life, O'ryan. Life. There is no life on Mars. That's no secret. But one day a fancy excavating probe landed on Ganymede, and dug a hole. Ganymede has a magnetosphere, did you know that? You're a space guy, you probably did. Did you know that the intensity of said sphere unnaturally gains upon descent into the ice layer? Of course not, who would, except the first probes. What did they find? Oddities of radiation, apparently, and magnetic flux. The probe went inert. There was another, though, and it also failed. But not quite as fast. The official story is the same as the first probe. It was a hoax! It failed alright, but not before it sent back a few images and a lot of data. Life, O'ryan! Life! It sent back the unmistakable image of something resembling a frog, or a toad, in a chamber under the ice-'
O'ryan interrupted his reading, and looked up at Gibble. Did he really expect him to believe this? Gibble only nodded slowly again, now smiling. O'ryan sighed and read on.
'I don't know how, but Green Dawn has this knowledge, and nobody else. I have my theories, but I can't verify anything. They're planning to be the first to find life outside of Earth. They want to take over the pride of Excelsior corp, and much of the faith in the United Nations departments while they're at it. It's all a big marketing stunt. They won't announce the mission until they're about to send off. But that's the thing, they need a lifeboat, a human born mission, if their robots won't work. That's why they want you, or someone like you. They have to use Excelsior technology, and they don't have time to spare.'
O'ryan finished reading, let the cloth down, and sighed again.
"Gibble. This is insane," he said "I literally told myself that if you gave me some crock theory I'd plainly walk out of here, and this takes the cake." But Gibble's grimace did not falter.
"I thought you might need more proof," he said, "look on the other side."
O'ryan opened the cage. The toad was still as a statue, unperturbed by O'ryans hand. He flipped the page over, and found writing there as well.
'Think about it O'ryan, how much do you think it cost to get me and Mirati on base? Why? Why someone like me? Why her, and why any interest in you? But think again about the money, the money O'ryan. This is the truth. You want a conspiracy fulfilled, here it is. Take some Earth leave next month. They'll find you. They'll make you an offer. Mark my words. See your family, have a vacation, do whatever. But be on Earth. they'll find you and throw more money than you've ever dreamed of at you, but more than that, they'll give you the one opportunity in your lifetime to part the barrier of lies.'
O'ryan turned back to Gibble.
"Good bye, Gibble," he said, and walked out.
Gibble rapped his fingers across the desk, watching O'ryan leave.
"Yes, I think that went well."