172 Hours on the Moon (26 page)

Her father had already managed to book her a room, and with a sigh of satisfaction she took the elevator up to the suite on
the fifty-second floor with a fantastic view of the park. But Mia didn’t stay in the room and wait for her family, as she’d
promised.

She had already done enough waiting. After just a few minutes in the room and a quick shower, she left the hotel, heading
for Central Park.

Murray didn’t show up until close to eleven p.m. He came pushing his shopping cart and didn’t spot her until she stopped him.

“Hi,” she said.

He looked at her for a long time. It was as if he were running
through a big library card catalog in his brain. And finally he found a card with her name on it.

“Mia?” he said, astonished. “You’re back.”

She smiled. “Thought I’d say hi.”

“I heard about you on the radio,” he said. “Down at the Salvation Army. They said you all died. They said you didn’t have
a chance.”

“That’s true. But I survived.”

“Yes, by golly if you didn’t,” he said, putting his arm around her. “And your folks?”

“They’re coming tonight. At the earliest.”

“Four Seasons, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” Mia said. “Same as last time.”

“Great. I’ll walk you over there.”

“I have another idea. Come on.”

Murray left his shopping cart in his usual spot and followed her to the subway station on Lexington Avenue.

“Do you have money for the fare?” she asked.

“Are you kidding? Do I look like I have money?”

They waited until no one was looking, crawled under the turnstile, and jogged down to the platform. She gave Murray clear
instructions not to read any of the signs along the way so that he wouldn’t figure out where they were going. Every time the
train stopped at another station, he held one hand up over his eyes and used the other and his shoulder to cover his ears
so she could tell he really wasn’t cheating. They took the subway to the last stop, and Mia held Murray’s hand as he closed
his eyes and followed her up into the warm evening air.

“Now you can look,” she said. Murray opened his eyes.

“Coney Island,” he exclaimed. “You brought me to Coney Island! I haven’t been here in … all these years.”

“Do you remember telling me how you guys used to sleep on the beach here?”

“Yes, I remember. They don’t do that anymore. No one sleeps on the beach anymore.”

Mia pulled him along, down toward the water. “But tonight is different. Tonight someone is going to sleep here on the beach
at Coney Island.”

Murray’s eyes went glossy. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you. This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

The path down to the beach was littered with trash. Around them were the remains of what had once been an amusement park —
ruined carousels, parts of old trucks, and a lone, motionless Ferris wheel.

They found a spot next to an old wooden boat on the beach, and Murray spread his coat out on the sand so they could lie on
it.

“Welcome back,” he told her.

“Same to you,” she replied.

Murray fell asleep faster than anyone else in New York that night. Just over a minute after he laid his head down on the sand
he was out. But Mia didn’t sleep.

She sat up the whole night, staring straight ahead, until the sun came up out over the water.
I’m on Earth
, she thought.
I’m home
.

* * *

Murray was groggy when he woke up. He didn’t know where he was at first and yelled a couple expletives at no one in particular
until he noticed Mia and remembered the previous night.

He got up and ambled down to the edge of the water to stand next to her.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

She turned to him. “It’s going to go great. For me.”

And then she sneered at him. A repulsive sneer.

He studied her face more closely now, and suddenly he didn’t feel right. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Your eyes,”
he said finally. “You ought to get them checked, I think. It looks like there’s something wrong with … uh … with … them. They’re
… totally
black
.”

She shrugged, her sneer deepening. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you come with me back to Manhattan.”

“I … yes. Wait, what do you mean?” Murray replied, confused. Instinctively he took a step away from her and stumbled backward.

Mia was instantly standing over him. He felt himself begin to panic.

The sun rose out of the ocean and shone on them. It lit up the whole beach and sort of gave Coney Island its color back.

Murray had just enough time to see her hands coming at him, and then he felt an intense, blinding pain in his head, as if
his skull had cracked just over his eyes and split in two.

Then everything went black.

* * *

She left him like that, without batting an eye. She slowly turned and walked toward the Ferris wheel and what was left of
the once-famous amusement park. Far away, on the other side of the East River, she could see the Manhattan skyline, just as
the first rays of morning sunlight struck it.

She stood there watching the city for a little while before she started walking toward the entrance to the subway station.

The doorman at the Four Seasons bowed to her and opened the door as she entered the building. Without saying a word to anyone,
she walked through the lobby and into the private elevator and took it up to the fifty-second floor. She slid her key card
into the lock and stepped into the luxurious suite.

It wasn’t so much a hotel room as an enormous apartment: the Ty Warner Penthouse suite, with nine rooms occupying just over
four thousand square feet, taking up the entire fifty-second floor of the hotel. The biggest room had a panoramic view of
Central Park, and any human would have been absolutely enchanted to see the crisp morning light filtering through the trees
in the park. But she didn’t even notice. She just walked from room to room, and then into the library, where she found a red
armchair and sat down.

She waited.

Sat motionless and waited.

The hours passed.

And if anyone had been there in the room to see her, they would have been terrified. Because she wasn’t just sitting still.
She was completely immobile, staring blankly ahead.

The phone rang six hours later. As if just a couple of minutes had passed, she got up, walked over to the little table, and
answered it.

“Miss Nomeland, this is the front desk. Your parents are here.”

“Send them up,” she replied.

“Of course.”

She went to the door, looked in the mirror. Her eyes were dark, her hands looked gnarled, as if her body had aged fifty years.
She studied her features with interest and then turned attentively to the door.

There was a knock. One knock, two knocks.

Then she heard a key card being put into the lock, and the door opened. There they stood. Three people: a man, a woman, a
boy. Her parents and brother.

Her mother dropped her bag and ran to her, flung her arms around her and wailed.

“We were so afraid for you, Mia. We’ve been so dreadfully afraid.” The mother only just managed to get the words out. Days
of not knowing whether her daughter was alive or not had clearly left their mark on the mother’s face. It was gray, dry, like
a newspaper with only tragic headlines, and her hair was messy and unwashed. She obviously hadn’t slept for days. “I love
you
so much, do you know that?” her mother sobbed, hugging her again even harder. “I thought we’d never see you again.”

The father was just behind the mother, also hugging her with tears in his eyes. And then this kid.

Sander, his name was. He was standing a couple feet away, watching her with a distrustful look. He was clutching a tattered
stuffed lion in his hands.

“Weird eyes,” Sander mumbled. “Weird eyes.”

But no one else heard him.

“Sander is exhausted,” she heard her mother say. “It’s been almost twenty-four hours since he’s slept, poor guy. You know,
we had trouble at the airport, delays, or a strike, I’m not quite sure. Well, and then NASA suggested we take a private flight
and, well … it’s been a long day.”

“Sander, are you tired? Do you want to go lie down for a while?” the father asked. “They have super-great beds here, you know.
Just for you. And now you can sleep securely, pal, because now Mia is safely back with us. Aren’t you happy now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, giving his lion a good hug.

“Don’t you want to give Mia a hug, too?”

“No,” he said quickly, turning away.

The mother looked at her, stroked her cheek.

“It’s been so long since Sander saw you, you know. He’s not used to you being gone for so long. Maybe you want to help him
get ready for bed,” the mother suggested, “make sure he brushes his teeth and all that? I’m sure it would mean a lot to him.
Then Father and I will order us some food. What would you like?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Are you sure? Maybe you ate already?” The girl
shook her head. “Well, I’ll order something anyway, and then you can see if you want it or not.”

She took a step toward Sander and held out her hand. Reluctantly he took it. He noticed that it was cold.

“Come on, Sander.”

He obediently shuffled along behind her into the bathroom. She closed the door and turned on the tap. She found a hotel toothbrush
and unwrapped it, squeezed a stripe of toothpaste onto the brush.

“Why don’t you let me hold your lion for a minute while you brush your teeth?” she said.

He shook his head and stared at the closed bathroom door. Slowly he took the brush from her and began moving it across his
toy’s tattered mouth.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?”

“I’m scared, Mia,” he replied.

“I’m not Mia
.”

The tattered stuffed lion fell out of his hands when she grabbed him. He didn’t have a chance to make a sound.

She then proceeded to open the bathroom door and reenter the hotel room, where his parents were waiting.

“How did it go?” the mother asked.

“It went good,” she answered, smiling, as a girl who looked just like her emerged from the bathroom behind her.

The doppelgängers swiftly slinked out of the suite. Four identical copies of Mia moved from room to room with such ruthless
efficiency that before long there were legions of copies sweeping
through the hotel. Most of the guests opened their doors when they heard the knock. They would peer out the peephole and see
a young girl out in the hallway. The last thing they were expecting was to be attacked without mercy.

One by one, the doppelgängers took elevators or stairwells down to the first floor and exited the lobby, climbed into a cab
or simply strolled down the sidewalk. None of the hotel employees in the lobby or the guests who were busy checking in noticed
that the same person appeared to keep leaving the Four Seasons Hotel over and over again.

With one exception.

A bellhop, who was impatiently waiting to carry in the luggage of a slow Japanese couple, thought he saw one teenage girl
pass him three times. He wondered about it but quickly brushed it off as déjà vu. He was tired, anyway. And then he was asked
to bring the luggage up to a room on the thirty-first floor.

The bellhop pushed the button to call the elevator and glanced up at the lighted display, which indicated the elevator was
on its way down to him, something he’d seen hundreds or thousands of times before. It would be the last time.

A quiet
ping
was heard as it reached the lobby and the doors opened.

LOG NO_88.723.

NAME OF SHIP: RV PROVIDENCE

CREW: 8

ORIGIN: SECTOR 12, EARTH

FINAL DESTINATION: EUROPA

CURRENT LOCATION: THE MOON, QUADRANT 60 (MARE TRANQUILLITATIS)

DATE: 08/17/2081

TIME OF TRANSMISSION: 21:14 UTC

PRIMARY MISSION: DEEP-SEA INVESTIGATION OF MOON EUROPA, AREA #878

CURRENT ASSIGNMENT: INVESTIGATE QUADRANT 60, LUNAR SURFACE

1.

ENCOUNTERED SUBJECTS BELIEVED TO HAVE CONNECTION TO THE DP7 EVENT ON EARTH IN 2019.

SUBJECT #1 (DCSD) IS FEMALE, APPROX. 16YRS. FOUND 600FT FROM MOON BASE DARLAH 2 MAIN HATCH. CLOTHES: NASA SPACESUIT. FRACTURED
HELMET FOUND 5FT FROM BODY. CAUSE OF DEATH: EXPOSURE TO VACUUM. SUBJECT VISUALLY IDENTICAL TO FIRST OBSERVATIONS OF DP7 ON
EARTH. TISSUE SAMPLE SHOWS SUBJECT IS HUMAN. FOOTPRINTS (NO SHOES) FROM UNIDENTIFIED SUBJECT FOUND IN CLOSE PROXIMITY TO BODY.

2.

EXTERIOR INSPECTION MOON BASE DARLAH 2: BASE LOOKS INTACT. NO VISIBLE EXTERNAL DAMAGE, INTEGRITY OK. DISCOVERED SUBJECT #2
(DCDS) BETWEEN MODULES 2 AND 3. CAUSE OF DEATH: UNKNOWN. SUBJECT #2 IDENTIFIED AS LT. HALL (LMP).

INTERIOR INSPECTION MOON BASE DARLAH 2:

MAIN HATCH LEFT OPEN. MAKESHIFT CRYSTAL RADIO RECEIVER DISCOVERED ON FLOOR INSIDE DECOMPRESSION CHAMBER. NO POWER OR OXYGEN
PRESENT THROUGHOUT BASE. SUBJECT #3 (DCDS) IDENTIFIED AS CAPT. COLEMAN (HCOM) FOUND IN MODULE 3/GREENHOUSE. CAUSE OF DEATH:
SELF-INFLICTED GUNSHOT WOUND TO HEAD. BASE OTHERWISE LOOKS INTACT, NO INDISPUTABLE SIGNS OF STRUGGLE. SUBLEVEL POWER GENERATOR
(MODULE 4) REVEALS SUBJECTS #4 AND #5 (DCSD), IDENTIFIED AS S. WILSON AND

P. STANTON. CAUSE OF DEATH: ASPHYXIA.

LUNAR ROVER VEHICLE SEEMS TO BE MISSING FROM MODULE 4.

FURTHER INVESTIGATION SUGGESTED.

RV PROVIDENCE CONTINUING TO EUROPA.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>END OF REPORT…

SEE APP. NEXT PAGE

APPENDIX TO LOG NO_88.723.

DESCRIPTION: ITEM FOUND IN LEFT SIDE POCKET OF SUBJECT #1. ITEM IS A HANDWRITTEN NOTE, SIGNED BY DECEASED.

PARTS OF THE MESSAGE DIFFICULT OR IMPOSSIBLE TO DECIPHER.

IT READS AS FOLLOWS:

I REMEMBER. IT IS STRANGE, ISN’T IT, HOW SO MANY ANIMALS PREFER TO DIE ALONE, HIDDEN AWAY FROM THEIR FAMILY, THEIR PACK. THEY
JUST SEEM TO WANDER OFF AND DISAPPEAR WHEN THEY FEEL THE TIME IS NEAR. WHY WON’T THEY LET ANYONE STAY WITH THEM THE LAST FEW
MINUTES? I ALWAYS FOUND THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND. UNTIL NOW. I NO LONGER BELIEVE THEY DO IT TO SPARE THEIR FAMILY THE SADNESS
OF BEING THERE WHEN IT HAPPENS. I THINK THEY DO IT TO SPARE THEMSELVES. LOOKING INTO THE KIND EYES OF THOSE YOU’VE LOVED,
THOSE YOU SPENT ALL YOUR GOOD DAYS AND ALL YOUR BAD DAYS TOGETHER WITH WHILE YOU’RE TRYING TO GENTLY SLIP AWAY MIGHT BE TOO
HARD TO TAKE, AND YOU END UP STRUGGLING FOR EXTRA TIME, WILLING TO PROLONG YOUR OWN SUFFERING JUST TO MAKE IT EASIER ON THEM.
BETTER, THEN, TO LEAVE SILENTLY, UNDISCOVERED, IN THE DARK OF NIGHT. ALONE. IN MANY WAYS, I’M GLAD NONE OF YOU ARE HERE WITH
ME WHEN I (INDECIPHERABLE) MAYBE IT’S FOR THE BEST FOR MANY REASONS. (INDECIPHERABLE) IT’S ON ITS WAY TO YOU NOW, SO (INDECIPHERABLE,
TWO LINES OF TEXT HAVE BEEN VIOLENTLY CROSSED OUT) DAD, TAHNK YOU SO MUCH FOR TEACHING ME HOW TO (BUILD?) A RADIO. YOU PROBABLY
WOULD HAVE WANTED ME TO REMEMBER YOU FOR SOMETHING OTHER THAN THAT, BUT THAT IS THE IMAGE THAT SEEMS TO HAVE (STUCK?) WITH
ME, YOUR FACE WHEN YOU MADE THAT RADIO WORK, HOW PROUD YOU LOOKED THEN. AS A KID. & I LOVED YOU FOR IT. (I?) WAS ABLE TO BUILD
ONE MYSELF. DIDN’T LOOK AS GOOD AS YOURS, THOUGH. BUT I MADE IT WORK. AND SO I’VE HEARD THAT THERE WILL BE NO RESCUE MISSION
COMING MY WAY AND THAT “A CLERGYMAN WILL ADOPT THE SAME PROCEDURE AS A BURIAL AT SEA, COMMENDING THEIR SOULS TO ‘THE DEEPEST
OF THE DEEP,’ CONCLUDING WITH THE LORD’S PRAYER.” I’M AFRAID NO PRAYER WILL DO ANY OF US ANY GOOD NOW. SORRY ABOUT THE WRITIN.
USING A PENCIL WITH THESE GLOVES (INDECIPHERABLE) AS I WOULD HAVE LIKED. OR MAYBE IT’S (MY?) HEAD, I’M RUNNING LOW ON OXYGEN,
HEADACHE IT TAKES TIME TO GET WORDS WRITE. WILL LEAVE DARLAH 2 NOW, FIND A GREAT SPOT OUTSID (INDECIPHERABLE) CAN WATCH THE
EARTH UNTIL I (INDECIPHERABLE) IT WILL A BEAUTFUL LAST (SIGHT?). THERE’S NOTHING MORE I CAN TELL YOU. IT WAS A GREAT RIDE.
ALL OF IT. YOU AR ALL BEAUTTYFULL. NO ILIED. I WISH YOU WEREHERE. NO ANIMAL. THE LETTER. MOM. SANDR. I’M SORRY IM SO SORRY.
I HAVE TO (GO?) NOW. MIA (SIGNATURE)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>END OF MESSAGE…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>END OF TRANSMISSION