Free Flight

Story by mercrantos on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , ,

Another post-Playing Goddard story. This time with doggies instead of dragons!

Cover art done by plgdd https://www.furaffinity.net/user/plgdd

As usual, thanks to Mattariel and Vurumal for help with editing.


Journal Entry #1 - August 13th 2049 @08:35

The ship didn't even have a name. It was a short, compact thing, all angles and hard edges. Burn marks scored the underside and whatever labels or markings it once bore had long since peeled away. But he said it was just fine, it worked for him. That was his philosophy, it was fine as long as it worked. No frills, nothing fancy. Like him. But I needed a ride and it was available.

When I first saw him he was up on a scissor-lift, working on something near the engine. I walked up to him. "Are you going up to the Waystation? I need a ride and I can pay."

"Only has one seat," he said, without even looking at me. He opened a hatch on the back and pulled out a heavy-looking pace of equipment (I think it was a battery) and set it on the deck of the scissor-lift, making it sway.

"I've already asked all the taxis, none leave until hours from now, and I can't afford them anyway. None of the human pilots will take me and I figured that if you're an anthro too... I have $2200 on me, that's all the money I have in the world. It's yours if you'll give me a ride."

He replaced the battery with a new one one and closed the hatch. Finally he looked down on me and seemed surprised - maybe he expected to see a human. I guess I looked kind of pathetic standing there all disheveled in my old jeans and second-hand jacket. Most people (meaning humans) wouldn't give me a second glance except to glare or roll their eyes at me. I wouldn't blame them. A skinny anthro grey fox girl in jeans that are too big and a jacket that's too small for her- both of them second-hand and well-worn.

He said, "What's the rush?"

"I... I can't tell you."

He came down the scissor lift and walked up to me. I didn't realize how tall he was until he stood in front of me. Easily a head taller than me. A wulpine - a wolf anthro. Dark grey fur, almost black. He looked rough but not dirty, like he knew how to groom himself but just didn't bother. He looked at me. You know how when someone looks at you, and it feels like you're naked and they can see right into you?

"Someone after you?"

I made the mistake of looking behind me. "N-no. Not yet."

"Police? Or someone from the GGC?"

"Both, I think," I whispered.

"Any cargo?"

"Nothing but me -" I showed him my purse. "And my bag. That's it."

He nodded slightly. "Fine. There's some space behind the seat. If you can squeeze in back there I'll take you up but it won't be comfortable."

I pulled out the cash from my purse and held it out to him. "Thank you, really. You have no idea-"

He didn't even look at it. "You ever left Earth?"

"Yes, lots of times."

"Then you know it won't be pleasant. This thing pulls 4 Gs once we're out of atmo."

"It's kind of an emergency."

"By the way, I'm Wye... Wyoming."

He seemed to believe me or didn't care that I gave him a fake name. "Denver Garcia." He turned back to the ship and opened a hatch just under the cockpit and pulled down a collapsible ladder. "Hop in."

"Wait," I said.

He looked back at me.

"What's the ship called?"

"It doesn't have a name," he said.

Journal Entry #2 - August 13th 2049 @08:51

Well that was bullshit. My neck hurts like hell and I have a bruise along my head on my shoulders from being shoved into the plastic bulkhead behind his seat. I had to sit on this stupid metal box which took up half the space. Knees are sore from being pressed against the seat in front of me. Fuck, everything hurts.

The shitty thing about spaceflight is that the harder you accelerate, the more efficient it is because you spend less time fighting gravity. 4Gs isn't too bad when you're in a comfortable seat that's custom-fitted to your body (like Denver has) but it sucks when you're smushed into a small space designed for a suitcase.

Whatever. Now we're in Low-Earth Orbit and floating towards the Waystation and for once I'm glad of the zero G. (For those of you who want to remind me there's still gravity in LEO, fuck off. You know what I mean.) At least I have enough room to take out my computer and write this journal. I don't want to forget anything.

And the Waystation keeps getting closer, a big space station where ships can refuel and recharge before heading off to the lunar base or wherever. It's real name is the (let's see if I can remember this) Standard Propellant Depot and General Habitation Structure #1, or SPD/GHS 01. No wonder everyone calls it the Waystation.

Picture a bicycle wheel about 200 metres across. In the center of the wheel there's this rectangular structure called the Hub with big tanks of fuel sticking off it like big bubbles. Massive orange ones for hydrogen, smaller light grey for nitrogen, little ones for oxygen (blue) and lithium (very small and dark grey.) Xenon tanks are small enough to be inside the structure itself. Not sure who decided these colours would correspond to each element but that's the convention. NOTE: remember to look this up when I have internet.

There are two spires that stick out from the Hub at right angles to the wheel, with docking ports along them. You approach the station, dock to the spire, then leave your ship and travel along the spire, through the Hub, then to the outside wheel. There you can hang out while your ship is fueled and recharged. There's a bunch of little hotel rooms you can rent along the wheel and a shitty bar that people only go to because there's fuckall else to do there while you wait. The whole station spins once a minute, producing 1/10 G along the outside rim - just enough you can walk around and not float away.

Basically it's like one of those shitty motels attached to a gas station - one you only go to because it's the only one around. People just fly up to the station, refuel + recharge, then go off somewhere more interesting like Luna or Mars.

Denver didn't say anything to me until we were in orbit. He typed something on a foldout keyboard in front of him and said, "Propellant Depot, this is Untitled Spacecraft requesting docking permission. Serial number LCV-24-0458."

Finally I spoke up. "Is this really called the Untitled Spacecraft? Like, that's it's official name?"

He didn't look back at me. "That's it's real name."

"I thought you said it didn't have a name."

"When you buy a ship, the default name is 'Untitled Spacecraft.' I just never bothered to change it."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't think of a name."

I stretched and cracked my back, sending a shock down to my toes. "Ow. You know it's bad luck to board a ship without a name. That's why I asked earlier."

He wasn't looking at me. "You don't say."

I shrugged. "I heard that somewhere. That's why they always christen it before going aboard."

He typed something on a fold-out keyboard. "They what?"

"They christen it by smashing a wine bottle on the bow, it's like a naming ceremony."

"Weird tradition."

"Humans are like that. It probably made sense to someone at some point and they just kept doing it."

"Tell me what you would name this one then."

I looked around. The interior was well-maintained and cleaned at least like there weren't any fast food wrappers or crumpled up tissues that I sometimes see in guy's ships floating around. If I looked out the window I could see the wings sticking out, black and white and slightly charred from multiple re-entries but no flag or insignia on them. It was probably the most boring ship I had ever seen. No names came to mind.

He was silent for another minute as the station floated in the distance, slowly spinning. "Are you going to tell me what you did?"

"What do you mean?"

I could see his reflection in the glass, looking at me. "You know what I mean. You're on the run from the GGC. You have no ID, no cargo, and you gave me a fake name. What did you do?"

Obviously I couldn't tell him. "How did you know I gave you a fake name?"

"I didn't, but you just confirmed that you did." (Dammit! I thought. Clever bastard.)

When I didn't say anything he said, "Whatever. If you don't want to tell me, fine. Just don't try anything stupid around me. I've been in enough trouble as it is."

A speaker crackled to life, saving me from answering the question: "Untitled Spacecraft, your docking request is accepted to docking port D4."

He hit the thrusters and the ship vibrated as we approached the Waystation. "I just realized something," he said.

"What?"

"We have to leave by this ship's docking port that's right above you. When I approach the station, I have to look through the viewfinder right next to it, so I have to recline this seat back right into the spot you're sitting and you're in the way."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah. With you there I can't see anything. Think you can float over in front of me so I can lean back?"

"I can try." I pushed off and awkwardly managed to scramble over top of him and kind of straddled his waist because it was the only place I could fit. Face-to-face, nearly touching. Remember when I said he looked like he hadn't showered in a day or so? He smelled like that too. Not in a gross body odour kind of way, but more of a musky male scent. He smelled like hard work sweat and clean oil. Phew, just writing that out reminds me that it's been a while. I need to think about something else.

That only lasted for a second until he reclined the seat all the way back so he was looking straight up through the docking port viewfinder. He didn't seem to notice anything different but maybe he was just acting professional.

I looked back, out of the windshield and saw the station coming closer as we approached the Spire, then a docking port he had picked out. Lights blinked around it. I've been in space ships plenty of times before and docking is always super slow and boring, but Denver approached it faster than I've ever seen before. So we docked with a bang that shoved him into me and I kind of grabbed him so I wouldn't fly backwards. He glanced at me and he looked embarrassed or maybe that was my imagination. Then his face was back to being impassive and blank.

Journal Entry #3 - August 13th 2049 @09:01

Once we were docked and in the station, I offered Denver money again but he refused. Just needed to charge and refuel his ship and he's off to Luna. I thanked him and he said maybe he's see me around. At least I'm here and I can meet my friend. It didn't take long before I found her room, she said she was in room 64 (the Waystation structure is basically one long hallway in a circle with rooms along it, and there's only one level.)

I knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again, harder. Nothing. Someone approached, they passed me without a second glance. When they were gone I held my ear up to the door and listened but didn't hear anything. The door just opened when I leaned on it but there was nobody there on the other side. "Adrienne?" I called out, using the name she had told me to use. First quietly, then louder when there was no answer.

Then I noticed something - the room was a bit of a mess. The corner of the rug was flipped up. Table and chair not aligned perfectly, everything was slightly off, like it had been moved and quickly put back.

I looked at the door behind me. A slight dent near the lock, as if it had been forced open. I closed it and it bounced open, the lock was broken.

"Oh, fuck," I said. She must have been taken already. I froze. Now they'd be coming after me. I started to leave and a thought occurred to me. Maybe she had already left, and someone had searched the room after. If that was the case, she might have left me a message, or at least a clue. I didn't have much time either way.

I quickly searched the place for clues but there weren't many places to look. Still I checked under the bed and under the toilet seat and under the couch cushions and the cabinets and in the microwave and food hydrator but turned up nothing.

It had to be something smart. Something only I would get. I sat on her bed and looked around. There was a small collection of books on the table, stacked neatly on edge. I looked at them for a second, then got up and looked at them closely. All of them were right side up except one was upside down. I pulled it out. The Peaks of Eternal Light by R.H. Shackleton. I flipped through the pages. A bookmark marked page 325 (well, 325 and 324 but 324 had nothing written on it so it didn't count.)

I held it in my hands. There was a Shackleton crater near the south pole of the Moon, and "Peaks of Eternal Light" were the mountains that rimmed it because they were so high they were almost always in sunlight. It used to be a mining colony, now a hotel, but barely anyone went there anymore. It's an attractive for old and disabled people to retire since its easy to walk in 1/6th G. So it's not a super exciting place. Maybe she was there, in room 325? It seemed like the kind of clever clue she would do. It wasn't much but it was something.

A knock on the door, I looked around, nowhere to hide. More suspicious to ignore it, or answer? I looked through the peephole, saw a human lady outside pushing a cart with toilet paper and soap and stuff.

I opened it. She seemed surprised to see me and glanced up at the room number above the door. "Are you Ms..." she looked down at a tablet in her hand. "Adrienne Knott?"

"Yes, I am," I lied.

"Oh. I'm just wondering if you need anything. Toiletries or amenities?"

I pretended to think. "No, I'm alright. Thanks."

She glanced over my shoulder at the room. "Okay just let the staff know if you need anything at all."

"I will, thanks." She trundled away with her cart and I closed the door. I leaned against the door, thinking. Okay, so if my friend isn't here, she might be captured already, in which case they're already looking for me. The Waystation is only so big and I can't hide forever. I looked at the book again. It wasn't much to go on but it was better than nothing. I put it in my bag, just in case. Shackleton, room 325, I said to myself. But how to get there? Even if someone on the Waystation was going there, I couldn't afford a ride there.

Denver said he was going to the moon. Maybe I can get a ride again. The thought of being crammed into the stupid Untitled Spacecraft again was enough to ache but I didn't have a choice. He'd be more likely to help me than anyone else.

I cracked open the door and looked outside the room; the cart lady was nowhere in sight. In the end I found Denver the same way as I did the first time - by chance. He was in the Spire, by the docking port we came in. He was carrying that metal box (the one I used as a seat) from one docking port (the one the Untitled Spacecraft was docked to) to one across the corridor. He looked surprised to see me again.

"Are you leaving soon?" I asked.

"Once I'm packed up and the ship is ready Five minutes or so."

"Where did you say you're going?"

"Armstrong." He must have seen the disappointment in my face. "Why?"

"I need to get to Shackleton Crater."

"That's three thousand kilometres from Armstrong. And you're not going to tell me why you need to get there are you?"

I shook my head. "I can't."

"I'll tell you what. I was planning on going to Armstrong first, then to Shackleton in a few days anyway."

"It's... kind of time-sensitive. I don't have a few days."

"Then we have nothing else to talk about. Goodbye." He said in such a commanding way it was like he pushed me back.

"I'm sorry alright? But if I don't go, I could end up in prison or worse."

"Wyoming. Or whatever your real name is. I don't care. You got one favour out of me and that's all you're getting."

"It's... it's Cheyenne. My real name is Cheyenne."

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I don't know! I just thought it'd be like an olive branch, or a peace offering. I don't have anything else."

He put down the box. "Look I felt sorry for you because you looked desperate, so I brought you up here because I was coming anyway. But I'm not going completely out of my way for you, especially if you won't tell me why."

He stood up and towered over me. I stepped back without thinking "If you really wanted to, I could take you to Armstrong, if you told me why you're on the run. But not to Shackleton, and not without you telling me why you're going there."

"But if I told you, you wouldn't take me."

"Try me."

I looked around. We were alone in a narrow corridor. Ahead was the Hub, behind me was a dead end. If someone came for me there'd be nowhere to run.

"I'm so sorry," I said.

"For what?"

"For what I'm about to do."

He narrowed his eyes. I only came up to his chest but I stood my ground. "The GGC is coming after me. They might already know I'm here. I have nowhere else to go and nowhere to hide. When they capture me, they'll ask how I got here and I'll tell them it was you. Then they'll go after you. And I'm guessing you don't want their attention either unless you want to live on some colony on Luna for the rest of your life, mining ice."

"You think you can threaten me?"

"I have nothing to lose. You on the other hand, have a lot. Bring me to Shackleton crater and you'll never have to see me again. But we have to leave now."

He looked like he wanted to bite my head off. Without breaking eye contact he pointed to the docking port behind him.

"We're not taking the Untitled Spacecraft?"

"No, that's for leaving atmo. For getting to the moon I'm taking the lander."

"How many ships do you have?"

"Enough. Get in."

Journal Entry #4 - August 13th 2049 @11:22

2 hours into a 8 hour flight. We haven't talked since leaving. There's enough room in this lander I'm not squished and can actually stretch out which is nice. He just called it "The Lander", I wonder if that's it's name. I'm guessing it is. It's even uglier than the Untitled Spacecraft, like an orange spider with pimples. Just an octagonal structure (where we're sitting) and underneath, eight orange fuel tanks surrounding a single engine, with spidery legs sticking out. It only works in space and would probably collapse under its own weight on Earth.

Journal Entry #5 - August 13th 2049 @12:40

I realized I never explained how these ships work. The Untitled Spacecraft is a pretty standard civilian design; an air-breathing hybrid nuclear thermal scramjet. Basically it scoops up atmosphere and heats it up with a nuclear reactor, which makes it expand and exit the back, producing thrust. High up where the atmosphere is too thin, or in space, it has on-board tanks of liquid hydrogen it uses for fuel.

This lander works on basically the same principle but there's no air-breathing element, it's just a hydrogen fueled nuclear thermal rocket. It's a slightly dirtier but more efficient reactor with not as much shielding so the exhaust is very slightly radioactive but that doesn't matter in space as much as long as you weren't standing directly behind it. Still it had 30 km/s of dV so we could get to the moon in only 8 hours. (Remember Apollo took 3 days)

This is random but I like the word "Cabaret" but I don't know what it means. I'll have to look it up when I have internet, and I'm not about to ask Denver for the password to the Lander's network access. He'd probably eat me.

Journal Entry #6 - August 13th 2049 @13:34

If I write on this computer it looks like I'm busy. Denver keeps pretending to do things but there isn't really anything to do while you're travelling in space, we're just floating.

4 hours to go. I wish I had put some games or something on this thing.

Journal Entry #7 - August 13th 2049 @15:34

Battery dying on this thing, still 2 hours till we land. I might have to talk to him. I don't know why he's so pissed off. Actually just writing that makes me realize why. I guess I was kind of a cunt. Wish me luck.

Journal Entry #8 - August 13th 2049 @16:07

That was fun. I worked up the courage to talk to him and he wasn't as mad as I thought. He seems like a straightforward person so I just said, in a straightforward way, "I'm sorry for threatening you."

He just said "It's fine," and continued staring at the screen.

I said, "I know you're not doing anything so you might as well talk to me."

He looked back at me. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I figured you should know what I'm doing. I thought about it and you deserve to know, since it's too late anyway."

"Too late for what?"

"You're already involved." He narrowed his eyes at me and I looked down at my hands in my lap. "I blew up the GGC headquarters in Vancouver. Well, I made the bomb. A friend was going to take it into the HQ and detonate it remotely, then rendezvous with me and take me to the Waystation. But she didn't show up so I figured something had gone wrong. That's when I met you."

He didn't say anything but covered his face with his hands and put his elbows on the panel in front of him. After taking a few breaths he said, "You were going to blow up GGC headquarters?"

"I can't find a real job, and I'm good at chemistry."

"God damn it, that's not what I meant. What on Earth would make you want to do that?"

"They deserve to be destroyed for the way they treat us."

"And how would blowing up a building make people treat us better? We already get thrown in prison or deported to islands in the middle of nowhere."

I didn't have an answer for that. He pulled up the main screen and typed something on it and started a news feed. The anchor said, "A terrorist attack was foiled in Vancouver earlier today. No suspects have been identified but police are looking for a a woman by the name of Lily Chapman, who was charged for conspiracy to commit terrorism in 2029. Mrs. Chapman is the widow of the late Alex Chapman a former employee of Goddard Genetics, who was killed in a car accident in 2029."

"Lily Chapman? That's who you're working with? The same woman who destroyed the Goddard Genetics building twenty years ago, and caused it to be reformed into the Greater GodGen Conglomerate? That's who the GGC is after?"

"She... I didn't know it didn't work. I thought it did, until just now. They must have figured it out. That's why she couldn't stay at the Waystation. She had just enough time to leave me a clue then run again." I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes. Fuck. Now what?

I heard Denver breathing hard, like he was trying to calm himself. "I'll drop you off at the Shackleton landing centre. Like I said, I was going to go there eventually anyway. You can find your friend Lily, but keep me out of it."

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I was desperate."

"You're sorry. Well, that..." He shook his head. "You have no idea."

"About what?"

"You told me your truth so I'll tell you mine. I used to work in the ice mines on Luna. It was the only job I could hold. I worked my way up because the humans who owned us realized I could keep the other anthros in line and keep them working. When the mines were abandoned, I had saved up enough money to start my own company, and I only hired anthros like us, the people that nobody else would hire. Some of them never had jobs before, or had a criminal record. I told them that was irrelevant and all that mattered was their willingness to work hard.

"Apparently that's illegal. The courts called it wrongful discrimination so without a trial I was put into prison. Even though it was a minor corporate fraud, they threw me into a concrete cell with murderers and rapists. I spent six years there but I made friends. I told them that I'd hire them once they were out. I was released two days ago and the only thing I wanted to do was to get back to my mining colony, hire back my former employees, and start over.

"When I saw you I thought you might have been one of those same workers, or in a similar situation. Maybe I imagined that you wanted a second chance and could have worked for me. That's why I helped you. But, like I said, the last thing I need is them to come after me again. I'm trying to keep a low profile. Trying to avoid the wrath of the GGC or any Earth police. I'm trying to work, and act like a respectable person, not like a feral animal."

"They still treat us like animals anyway."

"Because some of us act like animals. That's why humans don't see us as people. They just stare at us on the streets, like you're some weirdo in a costume. You're a monster, or a pet, or worse - a fetish. Never equal except for bullshit activists that are only virtue signalling. But there's a chance we can be more than that.

"But I wanted to start building something, away from human interference, where we could make actual work for us, work with dignity, and for pay."

"I wish it was that easy," I said

"What do you mean?"

"You think the GGC will leave us alone just because we try to keep to ourselves? To them, we're just products that were stolen. We may have equal rights as humans, at least on paper, but not in practice, They want us back where they can keep an eye on us. Now that they can't own us, they want us gone completely. We may not be the first generation, but we will be the last. There's nothing left for us. There never was. We have no purpose, nothing left to build that humans haven't made already."

"We do. To find our purpose. This world isn't made for us. It's made for them." He looked at his dark furred hands. "I can't even type on a regular keyboard without hitting the wrong keys half the time. We can't even sit in chairs made for humans. I had to have these custom made. We have to make our own world. That's what I'm trying to do. Not back there" - he motioned back towards earth, receding at 15 km/s, "but out there. Earth is for humans. We're meant for something greater."

"Nice speech. But try convincing the GGC that we're meant to explore the universe."

"My speech will do a lot more to convince them than trying to blow up a building."

I stood up, forgetting for a moment there was no gravity and I had to hold on to my chair to keep from floating away. "That wasn't to convince anyone of anything. It was to send them a message."

"What message? That we're violent, barbaric animals? They already know that!"

"That they can't control us!"

"Yes they can, Cheyenne. They absolutely can control us. There are what, a hundred thousand of us, in the world? Against nine billion humans? If they wanted they could kill us all. Drive us into extinction. All we can do is prove that we're valuable - that we can contribute, pay taxes and pull our weight.... what?"

I scoffed. "They don't care about that. No matter what we do, we'll always just be less than them."

"Some care."

"Not the ones that matter."

He spread his hands in exasperation. "So what? Just act like animals, let them treat us like animals"

"I don't care what they think."

"Well I do!" His voice echoed in the small lander. Because they're the ones in charge. I don't like them any more than you do but I can recognize the futility of picking a fight with an enemy we can't win against." He was right in front of me and I could see the anger in his eyes. "What the fuck do you think we can-"

I kissed him. It's funny. A big, dark grey wolf - almost black, like a werewolf from a human story. At least a foot taller than me but still not immune to my charms, he became instantly soft and vulnerable.

"What?" he said.

"If it's us against them, I don't want to fight," I said. "Let's just get to the Moon without biting off each other's heads, and I'll be on my way. You won't have to ever see me again."

He sat down and said, "Will you be able to find your friend Lily?"

"If I interpreted her clue right, I'll find her."

"And then?"

I shrugged. "I'll figure something out."

He leaned forward and ran his claws through the fur on his head. "Right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I just want to make this work." He looked at me and the fire I saw in his eyes was extinguished. He looked like he was looking for the right words to say, but settled on, "Right, well, you know where I'll be." He left that open to my interpretation, I guess. He pressed a few buttons. "Time to start the insertion burn," he said, either to me or himself. There was a shudder as the engine reignited and we had a bit of gravity again - 1/3G, as far as I could tell. The moon filled the main window.

Journal Entry #9 August 13th 2049 @16:27

I should be a detective. Lily was indeed waiting at room 325 at Shackleton Crater Resort and Hotel.

"What happened? Why couldn't you meet me at the Waystation?" I said.

After making sure the door was closed and there was nobody around she said, "I'm sorry, I didn't have any better way of getting a message to you. I gave your bomb to my other guy and left for the Waystation and waited; he was supposed to let me know when the job was done. But I waited, and all I got was a single text: "compromised." I destroyed my burner phone right away, and realized I forgot to let you know. I thought the GGC was after me and they might come to my room in the Waystation. But their jurisdiction doesn't extend to the moon, at least not yet, so I left you a clue and came here. We should be safe here, for the moment at least. And before you ask, you don't need to worry either. There's no connection between you and the plot. But how did you get here?"

"I hitched a ride - a guy already going to the Waystation. His name is Denver, he's a wulpine, like me so I figured it'd be safe to confide in him."

"What did you tell him?"

"Um... kind of everything."

She stood up and hissed, "You told him what we're doing?"

"He seemed trustworthy. He told me a bunch of stuff about himself too. I think he might help us. Hold on."

At this point, I let Lily read this journal, up until the last entry. She seemed to calm down a bit after that. She handed it back to me. "Well, if he's an anthro too, he's not likely to betray us."

"He said something interesting, though," I said. "He's trying to work with anthros, and people, I guess, if they're willing to help him. He wants to stay here and work, away from humans and the GGC, and just work in peace."

She nodded, then seemed to realize something, like it was right in front of her face and only saw it then. "Actually, it'd probably be safer working with Denver and his people, rather than anyone else. They're the last people who would betray us. And if he's willing to help us, maybe we're willing to help him. Any way of contacting him?"

"If he's starting a mining company I guess he's at the mining facility near the dome on the ridge of Shackleton crater. I don't think he'd want to get involved but he made it kind of clear I can find him if I want so I think he'd be willing to talk to me at least."

She was quiet and still, thinking for a while. "He might be right. After a failed attempt at violence, it might be nice just to lay low a while, just for now. I'm starting to feel my age."

I looked at her. She's 46 years old and her hair is starting to turn grey but she's as feisty as ever.

"But if he's only working with anthros, maybe not"

"He's no friend of the GGC, so if you're working against them, he'll work with you."

Journal Entry #10 August 14th 2049 @09:04

It's not hard to find someone in Shackleton. If you're picturing a town, it's not. There are only four buildings: the landing pads and landing center where people check in once they've landed, the hotel; Shackleton Crater Resort and Hotel, the old mining facility, and a big clear glass dome that used to be used for growing plants to feed the mining faculty. All connected by underground passages so you don't need a space suit to travel between them.

Anyway I found Denver in the mining facility - he was talking to a couple of rough-looking canine anthros in coveralls (I remembered what he said about hiring former prisoners) they all looked at me when I approached, and Denver smiled and approached. He was wearing a business suit which I thought looked very sharp professional.

"I hope you brought your resume," he said.

I laughed at that and said, "Actually, I wanted to ask you about something." I looked at the guys near him. "My, uh, friend, wanted to talk to you."

He nodded, seeming to understand. He nodded to the other guys. "That will be everything, gentlemen." and I was surprised at how quickly they left. One of them said, "Thank you, Mr. Garcia," and disappeared.

I watched them leave. "Mr. Garcia?"

Denver shrugged. "I like to be professional. Come with me, Cheyenne, we'll talk in private. I want to show you something." Without waiting for me, he left and I followed him through the underground passage. We came out into daylight and we were standing in a big glass dome, maybe a kilometre across. Every square inch was covered in plants, all yellow and brown and dead. They were in a crazy wild tangle all over the ground. But no, when I really looked at them I saw they were planted in neat, even rows, but were just overgrown. There were bare patches in between rows for people to walk and pick the plants I guess.

"This is where they used to grow food for the colony," Denver said. "Ten years ago when this was a mining facility. This peak is high up enough it receives sunlight 80% of the time, so they call it a "peak of eternal light". But they pumped the atmosphere in here so high in carbon dioxide to make the plants grow faster - so high it would kill a person within minutes. So they had to harvest them in full-body suits. It was the only green space on the moon and it was poisonous. When they abandoned the colony the vented the atmosphere to space, and never used it again." He bent down to pick up leaf and it crumbled to dust in his hands. He brushed his hands and little green flecks floated away slowly in the low gravity. "I worked here for ten years before it was abandoned. Yesterday I bought it, and I ordered this place to be filled with oxygen."

I wondered how wealthy he was. He acted like a rich person - they way he dismissed his employees so casually. Not like he was arrogant, just filled with unconscious power, so effortless it was like he didn't even need to try. He talked without being prompted, just assuming I would listen, pausing and knowing I wouldn't interrupt him. He took a deep breath and I did the same - the air smelled sterile, as far as I could tell, but with just a hint of organic matter - earthy and musty and ancient.

"They had only two kind of plants here," he continued. "Potatoes, because they provide the most calories per square metre, and kale because it provides the most vitamins per square metre. Algae for protein was grown in vats, and these three ingredients were mixed and formed into bricks for the colonists to eat."

He pulled out a little block from his jacket and turned it over in his hands. A pale green brick, about the size of a deck of cards. "Each one of these provides one-third of the recommended daily intake of calories and vitamins and protein. We would each get three a day. Ever day, for ten years."

He tossed it into the dead plants where it threw up a billow of green dust which took an entire minute to settle.

"I'm going to burn all of these plants and make this into a park. I'll have real trees, and plants I don't know the name of. I'll waste space with rocks and sand, and I'll let weeds grow. Here, we'll make a new life for ourselves, away from humans and the GGC. That's what I'll do. I'm tired of fighting them. I just want them to leave us alone."

He took a deep breath and finally looked at me. "People look to me as a leader but the truth is, All I know how to do is find people's skills, and how to use them. You said you know chemistry."

I realized that was a question. I nodded, not wanting to interrupt him.

"I need a chemist who knows soil composition and atmosphere. I know you want a better world for us. So will you help me? By helping things grow, and not destroying them?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "I will."

"Good. I can use you. But there's one more thing." He stopped in front of me. "If you're trying to undermine the GGC, you have to be more subtle than using a bomb."

"Like what?"

He stepped a bit closer and spoke in a low voice. "Like working for a company that only has anthros, away from the GGC and prying human eyes. Subtly trying to sow discontent among them while keeping the appearance of being law-abiding, simple workers. I'll never forgive them for what they did to us."

A smile spread across my maw. "So you're not as innocent as you seem. This whole operation..." I waved to the dome and the facility behind it. "It's not just about helping us, is it?"

"That's part of it. I want to see the GGC burn, just as much as you do. But I'm patient. And as for now," he stepped forward and took both of my hands. "They can't touch us here. So it's just you and me. And as long as we're here..."

For the first time since I met him, I noticed hesitation. He was always confident in what he did, whether it was with his words or flying a ship, or doing physical work. He put his arms around mine, gently, and I moved closer without thinking. He was close enough to kiss.

"I wanted to tell you something," he said. Both his face and his voice were softer than I'd ever seen or heard it. "You've listened to me talk about my vision for the future of our race. I wanted to tell you that even though I work with people that want to fight the GGC, you're the first one with real spirit. There's something powerful and dangerous in you. If it can be directed towards a singular purpose..." his eyes flashed. "That's how we'll show them we can't be controlled. And maybe then we can make a future for our species."

He frowned and made a kind of sheepish face, as if he just realized what he said. I laughed and said, "So that's why you brought me here all alone."

"No, that's not why." He paused. "Maybe one of the reasons." Then his confident hard face was back and he looked down on me. "And I have you right where I want you." And without hesitating, he reached down and kissed me. It wasn't like the kiss I had given him before, when I just wanted to shut him up - this was real. We stood there for a second, mouths locked together, tongues touching. I nuzzled his face, feeling the dense fur of his neck against my cheek. We pulled away and he held me close; one hand around my shoulders, one on my waist. Warmth radiated from his fur, trapped between us. I closed my eyes and just breathed. People think we don't sweat but we do. Right then I was glad of it. He smelled like rich earth, hard, honest work and a familiar, comforting place.

We stood amid the death and decay, holding each other in our arms. I felt lighter in a way that had nothing to do with the lower gravity.

Journal Entry # 11 August 19th 2049 @12:58

I haven't made one of these journals in a while as I've been so busy. We found one of the plant harvesters was still working and reprogrammed it to travel around the dome and pick up the entire plant. (A bunch of them still had potatoes attached - I wondered if they were still good to eat. I asked Denver as much, and he said I was welcome to try to eat "10 year old freeze-dried moontaters" as he called them. I did, and they taste just as good as you might imagine.) So the whole plant was collected, then shredded and burned - the resulting ash was a great fertilizer with lots of nitrogen and phosphorus. That was mixed with the now bare soil in the dome, watered, and allowed to rest while microbes grew.

Since Denver kissed me we haven't brought it up again. Maybe he's just being cautious, or maybe he's just too busy. I don't know how far he wants to take it but I'm willing to try if he is.

He had brought seeds from Earth and those were planted in the soil. He dug out a big pit (By hand!) I asked him why doesn't he use an excavator and he said that wasn't the point. He wants to have little ponds for lily pads and floating flowers. He took off his shirt and had a few of his guys help. I was supposed to be taking soil samples but I might have just stood there and watched them for a while.

I introduced Lily to Denver and they got along well enough, he said she's willing to help as long as she doesn't try anything dumb, so she and I spent the day in the gardens. We were planting -what else? - water-lilies in the ponds. She said the Latin name was nymphaeaceae, and that she only knew that because her late husband Alex had told her. I eventually worked up the courage to ask her about him. She stopped for a bit, and just kind of thought for a while.

"He was principled," she began. "He stood by his own beliefs, no matter what. Sometimes he was rash, or headstrong, stubborn even. But I knew it was always to protect the ones he loved. He loved her as well. Naomi. But I was never jealous. I never made him choose between me and her, and if I did, I don't know that he would pick me."

"Do you know what really happened to him?"

It took her a while to answer, and I could see the age in her face as she put little plants in containers of soil. We put them in containers so they would keep to themselves and not spread over the whole pond. "The last time I saw him was the 17th of March, 2029. That was when he had his supposed car accident. He left for work and I never saw him again. Not even his body. I never saw Naomi again either."

"What happened to her? I heard rumours..."

She shrugged. "So did I. But never anything concrete. For all I know, she's still alive somewhere. I hope that she managed to escape. She could fly, after all, and survive in the wild on her own. But I never found out." She smiled in a distant memory. "It's funny. We were only together for two years. And it's been more than twenty since we've been apart. I've moved on since then, but I'll never forget him."

Journal Entry #12 August 20th 2049 @14:34

I'm getting used to the gravity here, it feels natural to walk around with hardly any effort. Going back to Earth is going to suck. In the dome, the plants have all sprouted at the same time, like literally overnight, the dome went from brown to green. If you ask me, it must have been from the excellent soil chemistry. It looks beautiful - rolling hills of green that look like miniature mountains and little trails made of moon rocks like garden paths between fields of flowers. And, yes, even the occasional weed. Denver and I walked among the new plants. He had given all of his workers the day off because there wasn't much to do right now besides let the plants grow, so we were alone in the dome. We walked in silence, I knew he wanted to say something but was just trying to find the words so I gave him time. Looking out through the crystal-clear glass of the dome I could see just the magnificent desolation of the Lunar surface around me. Endless fields of smooth grey hills, punctuated here and there by craters, mostly old and worn down. Scattered boulders tossed haphazardly across the surface by ancient impacts. The blue-grey cube of the Hotel sat on the rim of the crater, and below, amid eternal darkness, twinkling lights of mining machinery inside Shackleton crater itself. Earth itself sat just on the horizon like it was balanced there.

I motioned back to the greenery. "How do you like my handiwork so far?" I asked him. He just nodded thoughtfully, still silent, so I said, "I was thinking of arranging them so the different colours would spell out 'Live, Laugh Love' and you would only tell once they had sprouted and it was too late." He made this kind of forced grimace expression like he was trying not to laugh, and he shook his head.

"Come on, why did you bring me here? You can only keep up the sexy dark brooding act for so long."

"I've been busy with this operation. Busy enough that I haven't had time to give you the attention and thanks you deserve. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

"Is that why you wanted us to be alone with me?" I asked.

"No, I had to dismiss my staff for the day."

"Plants grow whether there are people here or not. If I didn't know better, I would think you just wanted to be alone with me."

He smiled and spread his hands. "You got me."

That was all the permission I needed. I came up and kissed him again, like he did the last time. This time neither of us hesitated, and he held my head and ran a hand down my back, making me shiver and melt to his touch. That was all it took to send heat down my body to my toes.

I pulled away and looked at him. He must have known what I was thinking because he took off his jacket and tossed it aside. I watched it float away and slowly settle in the low gravity. Then he rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie. If you've never seen a guy do this, you're missing out. He might as well have just ripped off his pants. The contrast between his black fur, the unbuttoned shirt, and his tie hanging loose in the middle. His chest muscles bulged under his dark grey fur.

It must have shown in my face because he grabbed me again, and pulled me closer and pressed his pelvis against mine and I felt the hardness growing there.

I leaned in and put my mouth to his ear and said in a husky voice, "Mr. Garcia, am I making you hard?"

"Maybe a bit," he whispered back. The hand on my waist wandered down a bit. I put on a playful, innocent smile, the one that never failed to get me what I wanted. "I bet I can make you more than a bit hard."

"Show me," he said.

Without looking away, I reached down and unbuckled his pants and slipped a hand inside. His sheathe was bulging in my hand. I grasped the base of it and squeezed it - he let out a huff of breath and just the sound was enough to make me hot. His cock was starting to swell and already poking out of his sheathe.

Without being asked I knelt down and undid his pants. His cock flopped out as it was trying to escape and stood proudly standing in the open air not even full hard yet. Right in front of me, taking up my full vision.

"Fuck," I said.

"We will," he said. "But first..." He held on to my head and pulled it towards him. I opened my mouth and took it in my mouth, and just savoured the feeling of it running over my tongue. I pushed my snout into his crotch but I couldn't take him all the way in my mouth.

I pulled my head back and sucked on the tip, coaxing out fluids that I savoured the taste of before swallowing and pushing forwards again, letting my tongue run under the shaft and feeling the veins and running her tongue around his head. I kept my lips tight against his shaft and added a bit of suction. I let out a little moan just from the knowledge I was pleasuring him so much and so easily. The fact that it was lewd only made it better.

He ran his hands over the fur on my head. "Such a good girl," he said. If I could blush I would. Those two words were like krytonite for me. It was like he owned me.

But something made me think he wanted more than just my mouth. And I could play him just as well. I let go of his cock, leaving it hanging there in the air, connected by a thin string of saliva to my mouth. I pulled on his tie to bring him closer, looked him in the eyes and whispered, "I need you inside me."

I felt his hands clench around me, and I smiled to myself. Turns out he's not always in control. Serves him right. "Get up here," he said and picked me up, brought me to the glass wall of the dome and pressed me against it. I could feel the air against the wetness on my crotch, without even touching myself. I felt something warm and wet touch me, and without pausing, he was thrust forward and with one motion he was inside me and I gasped, and clutched handfuls of his fur on his back.

I managed to gasp out, "We're kind of exposed up here, Anyone could see us through the dome if they were looking."

"Let them look, I don't care? Do you?"

I shook my head. "No."

He pushed me against the glass wall of the dome and fucked me hard against it. each thrust another wave of pleasure more powerful than the one before it. If it was hurting my back I didn't notice, didn't care. I held on to his back and wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him tight and I started kissing along the side of his mouth, his cheek, then down to his neck, seeing the fur rise from his skin. I licked the sweat from his fur as I kissed him, tasting him.

As I straddled his waist he held me up with one arm, the other arm held my hands above my head, holding me there. I knew he would let me go if I asked but I also knew that if he really wanted to, he could hold me there until he was done with me, whether I wanted to or not. That thought that delighted me more than I expected. But knowing he would stop whenever I asked gave me a bit of power too.

"Mr. Garcia, you're being bad," I crooned.

He chuckled, deep in his throat. "You love it, don't you?"

"I do," I managed to gasp out.

He stopped and looked at me. "And you will refer to me as sir." The command was like a physical blow. To refuse it was unthinkable.

"Yes, sir," I said. He gave the slightest of smiles, almost like a smirk. He winked at me and I nearly melted.

Finally he let go of my arms and held me close to him, I wrapped mine around him as well. His knot was starting to form already. I could feel the heat from it inside me, warming me from the inside. My own climax was fast approaching as well and I was panting for the first time since coming to the Moon. I did my best to grind against him, doing what little movements he would allow, moving my hips back and forth, side to side, hitting every part of him inside me. Moving without thinking.

"Inside me," I gasped.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir," I said. It just felt natural to say that. He clamped his maw around my collar, just between my shoulder and neck, where I was most vulnerable. He growled deeply enough I could feel the reverberations of his throat on my shoulder, and clamped down just hard enough to hurt in a good way. A dozen little sparks of pain from my shoulder, obliterated by the welling of pleasure coming from below.

Then with one powerful thrust that pushed me up the wall, a wet warmth being slowly spread as I felt his cock expand inside me, somehow, impossibly getting still larger and still somehow contained inside me. It pulsed over and over, each once accompanied by a powerful thrust into me, giving me a pleasantly full feeling, like my entire body was being filled and fulfilled.

Then it faded away and we stood for a minute, catching our breaths. I held on to him, knowing and not caring that anyone could look outside and see us.

Neither of us spoke. I thought about what he had said, about the future of our species. I hoped I was doing the right thing. I was still tied to him.

Journal Entry #13 August 25th 2049 @06:18

Holy shit he bought me a spaceship. She's a nuclear thermal spaceplane, so she can take off from Earth, but there's a small magnetoplasmadynamic engine so she can also get to the moon or whatever without having to stop at the Waystation for more fuel.

She's more or less the same basic shape and size as the Untitled Spacecraft but couldn't be more different. She's beautiful; all curves and graceful edges; like a knife, or a flower. Beautiful and deadly.

I named her The Nymphaeaceae. I didn't have a bottle of champagne to christen it but I said it out loud before boarding her so I think I avoided Lady Luck's wrath.

She's roomy, too. There's only one seat but I can stretch out and move around. Autopilot's pretty good, I barely have to do anything. So now I'm writing this on my way back to Earth with his instructions. We'll see what happens when I get there.