Mickey and Maud bowed as if they were joined at the cerebellum. “We are honored to meet you,” they said as one.
Sharmela Tamil appeared next, still dressed in a feminized nineteenth-century Raj uniform: a white turban, a uniform of thick blue fabric with draped cords across the chest. Medals Wayne did not recognize, and a military bearing-but also bangles and gemstones on fingers and ears. He sensed a complex and fascinating backstory, and promised himself to inquire at first opportunity.
Suddenly, a red light began to flash in the corridor. “Shuttle arrival in ninety seconds. Please make your way to the central departure gate.”
A series of bright arrows ushered them toward the previous night’s entry doors. Just as the last of the group arrived, the safety lights began to flash from red to green, and the door sighed open. They walked through a short coupling tunnel and took seats in a twelve-person shuttle with side windows and a bright central viewscreen.
“Buckle in, please,” a woman’s voice asked. Wayne recognized Darla’s mild Oakie twang. As soon as the last buckle was fastened, internal lights flashed from green to red, the door sealed.
Scotty heard a click as the external coupling was disconnected, and the shuttle began to coast.
If Scotty kept his eyes toward the ground, he could look out of the windows and feel no flash of panic. The same gray-white dust, the same cratered surface, rolling past in a surreal tableau. He could hear the ooh s and aah s around him and appreciate their reactions, while keeping his own reactions muted.
Ali kept his face glued to the window, fingers spread against the glass like a kid at a candy store. The gaming dome loomed up in front of them, ten stories high, wide as a football field, built within an impact crater older than the Coliseum. Their shuttle slowed, then crawled up a graded track to the side of the dome. He felt it shudder as it mated with the dome’s external wall-track, and after a series of little jolts it began to climb vertically.
Ooh s and aah s again, as the perspective began to shift, and their view of the crags, cracks and valleys, the craters and unweathered jutting spires of lunar landscape expanded. It took them two minutes to climb ten stories, at which point the shuttle rattled again as the track beneath them shifted, and they were pulled to a coupling at the very top of the dome. The shuttle sighed to a halt, and there was a nervous moment waiting for the safety lights to change. Scotty only realized he’d been holding his breath when green flashed, and the door opened.
A woman in explorer’s gear crawled out of the vehicle’s cockpit. “Ms. Tabata will exit last, please,” she said. This didn’t feel very genteel to Scotty, but he didn’t complain. Red hair: He thought he recognized last night’s mermaid.
The tunnel connected to a revolving escaladder. One at a time the gamers took hold of the rungs and descended into the top of the dome. Nice option for a puzzle, Wayne thought, but he saw nothing.
The mechanism went through some kind of clanking shift, and Scotty peered up the escaladder well, watching Asako maneuver her pod into position for the mechanism to take hold and lower her capsule to the floor.
When she had fully descended, the gamers all applauded. They followed their guide-Darla, Wayne noted, entering the game early-as she led them twenty meters away under a curved ceiling, to a ramp in the flooring. They descended again, and found themselves in a mock-up of the original Cavorite sphere, complete with plush seats and pewter-colored “Cavorite” scrolls, a few rolled up to make square windows. They buckled themselves in, Asako purred down and anchored her capsule. The ramp folded into the ceiling, and they were ready to go.
A countdown clock appeared on the screen, showing that they had ninety seconds until the game began once again. Wayne strapped himself in, and gave a hard exhalation. This was starting at a rush.
“Her name was Darla,” he murmured.
Angelique didn’t look around. “Did Xavier send her?”
“She didn’t say. I didn’t ask. But that’s her.” Wayne pointed with his nose. “The guide.”
“Dr. Darla McGuinness. Her backstory is she’s an astronomer. Studied the Moon. Xavier will kill her out as soon as he thinks we’re depending on her.”
“Right.”
“What did he think you’d do when you saw her in the game? Flinch?”
“Yeah. Or kill her. Or you’re supposed to kill her.” Or he was supposed to hesitate and let her kill him. Or be preoccupied with the possibility of some mid-game nookie, and miss a clue…
“Or he’s just messing with our heads.” Angelique scowled. “We wait.”
Only the lack of weightlessness told Scotty that what he saw was not completely real.
When the last of them were seated in the mock-up sphere, the light suddenly vanished from the room, plunging them into darkness. Scotty heard a soft clunk that might be Asako’s wheel grips locking against the floor.
Light came in patches: Screens rolled up one at a time to reveal a curved glass surface, and a glare like yellow-white bone cratered with acne. It was the Moon, and it was growing, hurtling toward them at reckless speed.
He looked for Ali first. His charge was seated and belted in. Then Asako: Her bubble chair locked against the floor. The gamers all seemed to be belted down and waiting. Then the blocky shape of a big man rolling up metallic-looking screens, exposing more of the Moon and a terrifying glare of stars. “Landing might be rough.” A marked Scottish accent burred his words. The big man’s naval uniform gleamed in the reflected lunar light. Their Captain.
The big man straightened like a soldier standing at parade rest. Moonglare lit a bristly haircut and a luxurious handlebar mustache. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching the lunar surface. You-”
“Excuse me, Captain,” Maud and Mickey said.
“A poor time to disturb me, madam. Best remain seated and wait.” The big man began manipulating the blinds again.
Despite the knowledge that it was all illusion, Scotty’s fingers crushed the armrests as the dappled surface approached. And then… he was confused. Xavier had made clear references to H. G. Wells’ Moon. Scotty hadn’t ever read the book, but had a vague memory of the CliffsNotes version. Wasn’t Wells’ Moon a living planet? He saw nothing but rock and shadow.
Wait… there were dapplings of pale green below, visible only as they approached more closely. That wasn’t right. At least, it wasn’t the Moon he knew.
He heard the intake of amazed breath around him, and Ali whispered: “Wells’ Moon.”
Then the last thousand meters passed in a blink, they were plummeting, and their Captain was frantically pulling levers. The click of opening and closing Cavorite shutters rattled through the room, and at the very last instant, their descent slowed.
With a mammoth crunch they slammed into the surface. The air outside clouded with dust. Their vehicle yawed side to side crazily, flipping almost upside down at one point, so that he felt dizzy and sick, as if he had swallowed a dozen raw eggs.
Then a smooth skid, dirt piling up against the outside of the sphere, and then stillness.
“Is everyone all right?” the Captain asked.
“All parts seem in working order,” Angelique said, and then checked with her crew. All seemed to agree that they had survived.
“I will wait here with the ship,” the Captain said. “I wish you Godspeed in your rescue attempt.”
The gamers gathered their gear, and, unable to conceal their eagerness, crowded against the curved transparent hull.
Scotty peered out. They were in a vast circular plain, on the floor of a giant crater. High walls closed them in on every side. Sunlight was just cresting above a jagged gray cliff.