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Samh 9.03.1342
The trip to Thelxinoe V-1398, Samh’s second largest moon, had been very productive. Not only had Geodor De Montfort, Viscount of La Soutain, gathered the information the Count of Anorraq had requested, he also was able to pull off a rather uneventful vacation with his half-sister, Lira. Allowing her freedoms while preventing her from interacting with unscreened men had been extremely stressful these last four years while he juggled two jobs. This excursion had been three months of relaxation because the single men and the chances for one-on-one interaction with them had been rare occurrences due to the expense of the trip and the more mundane tours and recreation available.
He travelled light and was already packed for their return home on the shuttle, today. So, he had decided to hang out at the lounge and see if any of the gossip going around about the Xiepvuians was worth listening to.
Suddenly, red lights started flashing in the station and buzzers sounded.
“Warning: Tourist emergency near Bay 5. All emergency personnel quickly proceed to Bay 5.”
Geodor stood and looked out the window. His eyes widened as he saw a person in a spacesuit slowly floating away from the moon into space. He knew Bay 5 was close, so the doctor in him kicked in and ran toward the emergency.
When he arrived, he was shocked to see about ten emergency personnel standing around.
“I’m a doctor. How can I help?”
“You can’t unless you have some way of opening our supply closet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the door’s jammed. Happens a lot actually.”
“What’s the emergency?”
“A tour hoverbus was getting in late. They rushed them off the hoverbus, so they would make the flight to the planet today, but one guy slipped and hit his head. I figure if we don’t get out there in the next five minutes, he’ll be past the point of no return. We might as well send condolences to his—”
Geodor did not wait for the guy to finish. He fished the last of his emergency-air-breathers out of his suit, stuck the special plastic over his head, popped on gloves made from the same stuff, and clicked on his boot jets before slamming through the Bay 5 airlock. He was thankful he had worn his spacewalk suit this morning. Granted, as a special agent, he rarely went anywhere on the moon without it.
The hoverbus was close. The few tourists who had been foolish enough to take the early morning tour were pointing excitedly at the body floating away. Geodor broke into a run and made a final leap toward him, activating his boots. He only had five minutes, himself, before all his temporary gear would be exhausted.
Getting the guy was easy. Getting him back to the moon, which had only 18% of the gravity of Samh, was much more difficult. The guy was dead weight and Geodor's boots were only designed to propel one person. Trying not to panic, he searched for the controls to the guy’s jet pack. His boots gave out just as he clicked the pack on.
Unfortunately, all the exertion was also making his air run thin. He was still about two minutes out from the airlocks, but figured he only had about one minute of air left. He might be able to get a boost from the guy he was carrying, but there was no way they could share air. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he started running toward the airlock. Tourists stood in the way, still pointing, like a herd of cattle. He was about five steps away from the moonstation door when his body gave out from lack of oxygen and everything went black.
* * * * * *
Geodor woke up and saw the ceiling of Bay 5. Then, the emergency personnel guy he had talked to earlier leaned over him.
“Whoa, welcome back! You’re one crazy sprynk! Man, you went running out there like there’s no tomorrow. I thought you were gonna die. Where’d you get all this cool stuff from anyway? Man, I’ve never seen one of these babies, and I’ve worked on the moon for six years now—” he held up the breather.
Geodor grabbed it from him.
“Sorry, I’m really into recycling. What happened to the guy who was injured?”
“He’s got a little concussion. He’s just fine. He owes you a life-debt though. You’re a hero. I’m sure the news will swamp you once you get back.”
Great, he thought, I’m sure the Count of Anorraq will love that. He had left all his disguises at home, too, and allowed his natural wavy, brown hair to fall loosely around his shoulders. The moon was not really a good place to try to come up with a new identity anyway. Everyone knew everyone else who was here. It was like a three-month long summer camp.
Sitting up, his head began to throb, and he briefly snapped his deep blue eyes shut and rubbed them. He was unsure if the feeling was from being temporarily oxygen deprived or if the guy talking to him non-stop was causing it. He gathered the rest of his gear and slowly stood.
“Whoa, man, you really should not be up. We were thinking that we are just going to ship you out when the next tourists arrive in a month. You need to rest.
“Sorry, I work at a hospital. I was lucky to get this much time off,” he said, gathering the rest of his gear and heading back through the lounge to the elevator. He was extremely grateful the guy watched him leave in awe instead of chasing after him.
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