![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
A Dark Beacon (300 words)
Jun. 9th, 2020 10:36 amMy prompt, from https://moreoddsthanends.home.blog/2020/06/03/week-23-of-odd-prompts/, was:
The moon looked like it had another crater, which grew as the moon waxed larger. And then…
A pimple that popped? A hole through the moon? Hum...
I tried the moon running away, the moon turning black, a momentary oddity, even a hole through the moon. But I think the one I like goes like this...
A Dark Beacon (300 words)
Like just about everybody, Malcolm was outside that evening looking at the moon when it happened. After all, it was one of those moons that the astronomers talked about, strawberry, harvest, something or other. The news had been full of it, and that evening, it was surprisingly clear, so most of America was outside to see it.
Malcolm sighed, looking up at the moon. He had been so close! Top ratings in the astronaut training, just about to join the Space Force, and... they had closed it all down. The ISS, left to run on automatics. Both NASA and the civilians ordered to write it up and leave it alone. Funding cut to the bone. And him, told to make a life doing something else. He had a radio with him, tuned to the live broadcast from what was left of NASA.
The moon was gorgeously full, hanging in the dark night. But as he watched, one of the craters, a dark pimple on the moon's shiny face, suddenly seemed to swell up. Then it shrank again. Swelled up, shrank, swelled up, shrank. Then swelled up and held it, for a long count. Shrank again. Swelled up and held it twice more.
Malcolm held his breath. The crater ran through three more shorts. Three short, three long, three short. SOS? Who or what could be doing that?
As he watched, as America watched, the crater repeated the sequence. Video cameras, live streams, everyone captured it.
The NASA broadcasters were sputtering and screaming at each other. Finally, someone yelled, "Shut it off." The broadcast shut off, but the moon crater continued to send SOS.
Malcolm's cell phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, but he answered it.
"Malcolm Foster? You are being recalled to the Space Force. Report to duty as soon as possible at the SpaceX center."
He blinked and looked at the phone.
"Yes, sir. But… What's the mission?"
"We're going to the moon to answer that SOS!"
###
The moon looked like it had another crater, which grew as the moon waxed larger. And then…
A pimple that popped? A hole through the moon? Hum...
I tried the moon running away, the moon turning black, a momentary oddity, even a hole through the moon. But I think the one I like goes like this...
A Dark Beacon (300 words)
By Mike Barker
Like just about everybody, Malcolm was outside that evening looking at the moon when it happened. After all, it was one of those moons that the astronomers talked about, strawberry, harvest, something or other. The news had been full of it, and that evening, it was surprisingly clear, so most of America was outside to see it.
Malcolm sighed, looking up at the moon. He had been so close! Top ratings in the astronaut training, just about to join the Space Force, and... they had closed it all down. The ISS, left to run on automatics. Both NASA and the civilians ordered to write it up and leave it alone. Funding cut to the bone. And him, told to make a life doing something else. He had a radio with him, tuned to the live broadcast from what was left of NASA.
The moon was gorgeously full, hanging in the dark night. But as he watched, one of the craters, a dark pimple on the moon's shiny face, suddenly seemed to swell up. Then it shrank again. Swelled up, shrank, swelled up, shrank. Then swelled up and held it, for a long count. Shrank again. Swelled up and held it twice more.
Malcolm held his breath. The crater ran through three more shorts. Three short, three long, three short. SOS? Who or what could be doing that?
As he watched, as America watched, the crater repeated the sequence. Video cameras, live streams, everyone captured it.
The NASA broadcasters were sputtering and screaming at each other. Finally, someone yelled, "Shut it off." The broadcast shut off, but the moon crater continued to send SOS.
Malcolm's cell phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, but he answered it.
"Malcolm Foster? You are being recalled to the Space Force. Report to duty as soon as possible at the SpaceX center."
He blinked and looked at the phone.
"Yes, sir. But… What's the mission?"
"We're going to the moon to answer that SOS!"
###
