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Moonborn
The Earth was coming up over Charlie’s shoulder, shining like a jewel in the blackness. “Pretty as a picture, Charlie!” Nokomis called. Charlie nodded and made an adjustment to the widget in his hand. The ground was crumpled where he stood, and he had one foot up on a rock. Nokomis faced in the other direction, “Dusty? What kind of volume to you want for this?”
“Just normal tone, Noko,” Dusty was fifteen meters away, his head bent over his own widget, “I think I’ve just about got it.”
Nokomis smiled. Dusty was one of the new techs who worked with Charlie and her Dad. He never treated her like a kid. He never treated her like a mutant, either, the way some of the new techs did.
Earthrise painted her shadow across the dust, drawing her silhouette in exaggerated parody of her true form. Nokomis raised her arm, long and thin. Your name means 'Daughter of the Moon', her mother said. Own it. Back in the Bio, the techs nudged each other, too polite to point. The Moonborn, they called her. “Freak,” a voice whispered in her head. “Oh, go away,” Nokomis muttered.
“What was that?” Dusty’s head was cocked to the side.
“Sorry, Dusty. Nothing.” Nokomis could feel her cheeks warm. “Are we done?”
A sound came over the headset, a cut-off yell; Nokomis stared at Dusty and then whirled around. “Charlie? Charlie!”
Charlie was gone. Nokomis was there in two steps, but he was gone. Not fallen, not behind anything. Gone. The widget that he’d been holding was on the ground. Nokomis bent to pick it up and saw that, just there, a deeper blackness gaped in the shadow of a boulder.
She couldn’t talk past the lump in her throat. Last month a tech had died in a fall. Vacuum was dangerous.
The edge of the hole was strangely smooth. Nokomis laid her hand on it, bending carefully to look down into the blackness. Dusty came up behind her in a flurry of dust, cursing. Nokomis dropped her head into the blackness. “Charlie!” Maybe he was still alive.
Something like a vise grabbed her thigh and pushed her down the hole.
Nokomis landed on her side and lay there for a moment, stunned. She caught her breath in a gasp and flicked her headset lights on with a dip of her chin. Just then, another light shone down and Charlie’s voice came over the headset, “You ok, Noko?”
“Holy Wah,” her breath puffed out. “What the heck is going on?”
Charlie sat down next to her as she levered herself to a sitting posture. “Looks like we fell into somebody’s secret little hidy-hole.”
“I didn’t fall,” Nokomis shook my head inside my helm. “Somebody shoved me.”
“What?” Charlie frowned and then looked up as if he could see through rock. “Did someone come up?”
“No, there was just Dusty, but he was next to me, and…”
“And?”
She shook my head again, trying to shake out the bats. “I don’t know. I saw you, and then Dusty…”
“Ok,” Charlie’s face was dimly lit by his headset lights. He looked at her and smiled a little. It was the kind of smile you gave to someone who was about to loose it. Nokomis took a deep breath and smiled back. “That’s my girl,” Charlie nodded. “What we need to do now is get out of here.”
They looked around at “here”. The headset lights were long, thin pencils of brightness, ending in pinpoints on a rough rock wall. A moments search found the hole they’d fallen through, but shining a light up and yelling on the headsets didn’t have any effect.
Charlie grunted and fished a flashlight from his tool belt. He swept it around the cavern. “Wait! What was that?” Nokomis turned her head, her light thin in the darkness. Charlie brought the bigger light back. “There.”
“Door,” Charlie said, and breathed in relief.
A common airlock was behind the door, and Charlie and Nokomis stepped in, both of them breathing with relief. Charlie looked up at Noko. She was so tall that he had trouble seeing her face through her helmet. She looked down at him, her brow knotted, looking for reassurance. He grasped her hand and gave it a little squeeze. Years of helping to take care of her had taught him to be gentle. “Don’t worry, kiddo,” he grinned, “we’ll be inside in a jiff, and get this all sorted out.” She smiled a little but the worry lines still grooved her forehead. Smart girl, Charlie thought.
Air filled the chamber and the light blinked green. Nokomis pushed the handle and the door whooshed open.
It took a moment for Charlie to recognize where he was; he’d only seen this chamber from another doorway. Main Power Plant, Charlie thought. We’re underneath, in Mech Support. Nokomis stepped out, turned and sealed the airlock door, and looked around. “Huh,” her voice came as a breathy sigh over Dusty’s headset, “we’re in Mechanical Support.”
Charlie shook his head, resignedly. “And how do you know that, my girl?”
Nokomis looked down at him and grinned, “Don’t tell Mom, eh?”
“I have a feeling that this will be the least thing we’ll be explaining.” Charlie reached up and popped his helmet, letting it hang down by the back strap and unlocked his gloves, stowing them in his belt. With a sigh, he messaged his face in his hands and took his bearings. “Ok, Magellan, lead us out of here.”
“Hardly Magellan,” Nikomis popped her helmet and gloves, and breezed past Charlie like a wraith. “This is my own backyard.”
She walked in a way that Charlie never got tired of watching, her long, thin limbs flowing in the low gravity. This was her place, her natural environment, her body shaped by it, and she moved as a body should move, gracefully, filling her space, coasting through the air between long, effortless steps that barely touched the ground.
It took a minute for Nokomis to figure out just where she was. The lights were low and everything was turned around. Mech Support was bigger than any place on base and she’d never been in this particular corner. She got her bearings and nodded a heading to Charlie and stopped; a low and raspy groan sounded amongst the humming machines. Charlie put up a hand and peered around, eyes narrowed. The sound came again, a wet burble of agony.
Charlie took a step toward the sound. He looked back at Nokomis, his face stern and hand up in warning. Stay, he lipped soundlessly. Nokomis nodded. Charlie moved past a column of machinery and it was quiet. Nokomis waited all of two five breaths, and peeked around the corner. Charlie was kneeling by the body of a man, blood spattered across his tech suit.
There was a body of another tech a few meters away, slumped on his side, eyes closed and blood seeping from his lips. Nokomis gasped softly and Charlie’s head came up. “He’s not dead yet,” he said, voice pitched low, “but he needs help real bad.”
He went to the other man and began to run his hands gently over his head and down his shoulders. Suddenly, the man coughed, and Charlie helped ease his head up. “Easy there, mate,” he murmured. “Looks like something got ya right in the kisser.”
The man brought a hand up to his mouth and groaned. “Some crazy-ass bastard attacked us with a piece of pipe.” The man pulled himself up, cradling the side of his face with his palm. “He hit Duff first…” His eyes went to the other fallen man, “…damn. I don’t …” and tracked around the area, “… I don’t know where he went.”
Nokomis put her back to the column and looked past the stacks of machinery, up into the catwalks, ears straining. Nothing. Just machinery humming and empty catwalks stretching off into the dimness.
Charlie got his arm under the conscious tech and helped him to his feet. The name patch on his breast read ‘’Boase’. “There’s a lift,” the Boase panted, “…goes up to Environmental.” He pointed, “That way.”
They walked carefully, Charlie leading the way. Boase fell back, limping, and Nokomis put an arm across his shoulders, steadying him against her side. He looked up at her, solemn, “Thank you.”
She smiled a little. He didn’t seem the type who’d nudge and point. “That’s ok.”
Boase stumbled a little, his muscle memory playing him false in the lunar gravity, and leaned against her. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s ok,” Nokomis whispered. “I’ve heard that it takes a while to get used to it.”
“You,” he shook his head, “you move like an angel.”
The came to a wall. Charlie turned and they sidled along, pressing their backs to its safety. “Where’s the lift?” Charlie hissed back to Boase.
Boase put a hand to his head, rubbing his fingers across his forehead. “I … uh,” he looked up and then stepped forward and peered around a massive block of machinery. “I think we went the wrong way.”
Charlie pressed his lips into a line. “Okay, mate,” he breathed out, “this is what we’re gonna do…” He looked at me then and his eyes narrowed. “Noko, I need you to listen to me, you hear?”
“Yeah,” Nokomis swallowed dryly. “Yeah, I hear you, Charlie.”
“Right,” he smiled grimly. “Me and this fella are gonna take a walk, eh? We’re gonna go find some help. In the mean time, you’re gonna fold yourself up small and pretend
you’re not here. Not a peep until help comes.” Charlie’s eyes pinned me, “You got that, kiddo?”
Nokomis nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”
Boase turned as they left, his eyes rolling wide, watching the girl as she pulled into a ball and tucked herself in the shadow between a pillar and a recycle bin.
Charlie glanced back but Nokomis had already made herself disappear. It was a game that they used to play, a crazy low-g hide-and-seek that would often end in Noko pouncing on him from behind a tapestry or from inside some cupboard.
“Good God! What is that!” Boase stopped suddenly, bouncing backwards.
“Eh? Oh, that,” Charlie chuckled. “That is a moonie. It’s a mouse, is all. A bunch of ‘em got loose about five years back.”
“That’s a mouse?” Boase’s nose wrinkled. “It looks like a big hairy spider.” The moonie paused at the base of a bio-waste bin, twitching its nose. Boase leaned towards it. “With whiskers.”
Charlie watched the moonie launch itself up into the bin. A second moonie slid out of an air vent and skittered after the first. “Looks like the little buggers are breeding up again.”
Boase detoured widely around the bio-waste bin. Charlie looked up into the catwalks and grimaced. “The wacko who attacked you could be anywhere. Where’s the damn lift?”
“I think that I got turned around,” Boase rubbed his forehead. “I came in on the Clement; I just got out of quarantine. Duff was showing me around.” The tech leaned against a wall and massaged his thigh.
“Ok, mate, steady on, eh?” Charlie’s eyes lighted on several lengths of pipe stacked neatly on a corner rack. “Here,” he fished out a likely piece of pipe, “take this to lean on.”
Boase smiled gratefully and the two men moved out past the maze of machinery, the pipe tapping lightly on the floor.
“Ah,” Boase said hesitatingly, “Nokomis, she, ah, she has quite a following, hm?”
Charlie sighed and turned around. Here it comes. “You mean those nut cases down below, eh? Those sick bastards that get off on looking at Noko’s med footage?” Boase chewed on his lip nervously and nodded. “Look,” Charlie said, “we don’t talk about that up here. She’s just a kid. That stuff is just…” he rubbed his hand briskly over his face and met Boase’s eyes in a frank glare, “that stuff is sick.” He leaned forward earnestly. “If I hear that you talked about that stuff to Nokomis, I’ll come and break your legs.”
Charlie’s teeth flashed in something that was not a smile. “It won’t be the first set I’ve broke.”
“Oh, hey, yeah,” Boase waved his hand dismissingly, “I get it. No sweat, man. Yeah, she’s just a kid.”
“Damn straight,” Charlie muttered, turning away. “Now, where the hell is that…”
Charlie never saw what hit him.
Nokomis heard someone walking, and peeked from her spot. It was Boase, and he was alone. She sprang out of her spot and landed next to him. “Where’s Charlie?”
Boase squeaked and jumped about half a meter in the air. Nokomis put a hand out to steady him. “Th … the nutcase,” he stuttered, “He attacked us! Charlie, he told me to run and get you, get you out of here.” Boase looked nervously over his shoulder, “We’ve got to get away!”
“No way. Not without Charlie.”
Boase grabbed Nokomis’ hand and began to haul her away. She frowned and reached her other hand across and pinched his ear, hard. Boase squeaked again and let her loose. “What the hell!”
“I’m not leaving Charlie.” Pulling her hand free, she turned and went back the way Boase had come, trying to look up, forward and sideways all at once. Behind her, she could hear Boase following, pounding along like Earthborn do, wasting all kinds of energy.
Charlie was lying in a bloody heap. Nokomis touched him carefully on the side of the face and his eyes flickered open. “Noko,” he whispered. “Get out of here.”
“Come on, Charlie, I’ll help you up. We’ll get out of here together.” His scalp was still oozing blood, and his eyes looked strange. “I can’t just leave you here.”
“Boase, where is he?” Charlie blinked and then he sat up and puked all over both of them. He waved his hand in a shooing motion. “Noko, get out of here. It’s Boase. The nutcase. It’s Boase.”
Oh. Shit.
A hand fell on Nokomis’ shoulder and squeezed. She reacted without thinking; as he jerked her up, she pushed off hard and somersaulted herself over his back. His grip tightened as she rose up and she felt a bone snapped under his hand in a white-hot pulse of pain.
Nokomis screamed.
Boase released her in sheer surprise. Nokomis landed behind him in a stumbling lurch and leapt straight up with all her might, screaming in pain and flailing out with her other arm. Her fingers brushed the catwalk support and she had it in a desperate grip. A jerk and a slither and she was laying on the catwalk facedown.
She blinked, vision blurred. Below, Boase looked up, the pipe swinging in his hand.
Charlie wiped blood from his eyes and tried to focus on Nikomis. Her face was stark white, pressed up against the grating of the catwalk. There was an air vent blowing on her from somewhere, lifting her hair up and away. Then she blinked and focused. With a shaky arm, she pushed herself up.
“You … you come back down here.” Boase sounded calm, like any reasonable adult. His mouth was pressed into a thin line of displeasure. Nokomis, her eyes wide, holding one arm pressed to her abdomen, looked for one long searching minute at Charlie and turned to scan the catwalk.
She saw something; Charlie saw her eyes narrow in calculation. With a blank-faced glance at Boase, Nokomis turned, took two steps and turned back with a length of long, thin conduit in her hand.
“I’ll bash his brains in. You come down here! Come down now! ” Boase lifted the pipe. “I … I won’t hurt you, Moonborn. You’re … you’re an angel. I just want to, I need to..” He licked his lips. “Come down here, now!”
Head swimming, Charlie struggled to rise to his knees. No. Charlie had tried hard at first not to love the strange spidery little girl. His first little girl would be sixteen, now. Gone. “Noko! Get out of here! This bastard is one of those freaks! He’ll, he’ll … God, girl, get out!”
“You shut up!” Boase gave him a vicious kick and Charlie sprawled across the floor. “Come down!” he called up to Nokomis. “Come down and I won’t kill him.”
To Charlie’s dazed eyes, Nokomis grew even taller. The vent blew in her face and her dark hair writhed through the air. Her face took on a look of wrathful distain. “You!” she spoke in a low, intense voice, “I know what kind of man you are.” She swept her left arm through the air, the conduit slashing, and brought it ringing down on the catwalk. “I’ve seen the stuff that you perverts write, the pictures that you make.” Her face twisted in disgust.
“Come down here!” Boase bellowed. Spittle flecked his chin and he swiped it away with an unsteady hand. “You’re mine, now. I get to play with you.” He lifted the pipe and nudged Charlie with it. “You hear me, “Uncle Charlie”? Bastard, you think you’re the first one in line, don’t ya?”
Charlie looked up. “I’m gonna kill you.”
“I got pictures of you, giving her a bath, when she was little.” Boase smiled. “We have it all planned. I can’t wait, I can’t wait. I’ll touch her there.”
Nokomis’ scream of rage split the air. Charlie looked up, squinting against the blood running in his eyes.
She was beautiful and terrible. “I am not some thing!”
She pointed the conduit at Boase. Her voice started low and ended in a shreik, “I am Nokomis, Daughter of the Moon!” Boase looked into her eyes and reeled back. With heart wrenching grace, with pitiless anger, Nokomis drew back her arm and threw the conduit, a shining blur that pierced Boase in the softness of his throat and through the width of his body, appearing out his back in a sudden snick of steely red.
He stood for a moment, eyes open wide into hers. Then he died.
She watched him die. It only took a moment. His body fell sideways and got messy. Slowly, painfully, Nokomis swung down from the catwalk and went to Charlie. He was a wreck. They looked at each other and Nokomis started to cry soundlessly, soft tears that flowed down her expressionless face. They leaned together like two war casualties, covered in blood and vomit, and staggered off. When they finally found the lift, Nokomis leaned against Charlie and sobbed.
Two weeks later, the tears still came. Nokomis’ mother looked at her with worried eyes and assured her that tears were normal for someone who’s been through trauma like hers. Her Dad looked at her with sorrow. Sometimes she saw his jaw clench in frustrated rage before he turned away.
Charlie, he knows. He would nod at her, one warrior to another. He knows that it’s not about being afraid of those bastards or sorry that I killed Boase.
A week after the attack, Charlie gave Nokomis a print of a painting someone did hundreds of years ago. It was an angel, holding a sword. There’s no pity its face, no sorrow. Nokomis put it up above her bed and during that first week she looked at it for hours. She doesn’t need to look at it as much now. It is inside of her. Boase had said "we".
She clenched her fist. I am Nokomis, Daughter of the Moon.
The End