"Give me just a minute, dammit," he yelled.

The new series of warnings told Jaxon that immediate action was necessary to avoid an unrecoverable decline to the surface of the moon.

Tapping his fingers much more quickly, he found his best option to land was not terribly far from his current position. It appeared to be some sort of surface mining facility that had a small clearing which he hoped was suitable for a dust off and landing.

He checked and double checked the coordinates before entering them into the computer. As soon as he hit execute, he began to feel a pit of uneasiness build up. He hoped that whoever it was that occupied the facility was of the non-confrontational variety because he was really tired of all the killing.

Seconds after the computer accepted the destination, the slow tumble of the escape pod ceased as miniature thrusters leveled out its trajectory. Then, the rear engines fired, jettisoning him toward the mining farm.

As the escape pod bounded toward the moon's surface, Jaxon became increasingly concerned with his approach speed. Having years of piloting experience under his belt, he knew that unless he reduced the thrust of the engine, he'd be coming in far too fast to make a clean landing. He cycled through several screens on his display but found no manual override. He flipped back to the main radar screen, and the surface of the moon continued to increase in size exponentially. ETA flashed ninety seconds, in crimson numerals.

Jaxon gave up on searching for an override and grabbed his satchel. He pulled out his mask and helmet shield and quickly slipped them on. He knew that a rough landing was imminent, and there was no telling how the escape pod would perform.

With the last of his environmental suit connected and secured, he braced for impact. The digital readout on the display counted down as the surface of the moon neared. He did one last check of his safety harness before gripping the side walls for support.

Eight, seven, six, five ...

Suddenly, the rear thrusters cut out and the bow thrusters kicked in. The escape pod pivoted around ninety degrees, before gently setting down on the moon's surface.

The landing took Jaxon by complete surprise, as it was one of the smoothest automated landings that he'd experienced in all his years in space. He smiled as he powered down the computers. Lastly, he released the locking mechanism on the escape hatch and unfastened his safety harness.

"Honey, I'm home," Jaxon mused as he climbed up and out of the escape pod.

13.

Jaxon stood on the surface of the moon, taking in the vast expanse of nothingness. As he walked around the escape pod, his eyes remained fixed on the horizon until the image of Earth dissected the sky beyond. Despite having frequented the moon many times throughout his career, seeing the spectacle was awe-inspiring. He wondered if there would ever be a day when he'd be able to return to the planet, or if he was destined to live a life on the run. The last several hours certainly did not bode well for him.

After several minutes of analyzing his immediate surroundings, Jaxon rolled up his coat sleeve, revealing a flexible vid display stitched into his environmental suits arm. A couple taps on the screen with his gloved hand and the condition of his environmental suit filled the display.

Oxygen level: ninety-six percent.

Time to depletion: three hours, forty-seven minutes.

Power level: eighty-four percent.

Time to recharge: seven hours, two minutes.

Happy that his suit had maintained its reserve levels so well while sitting in a crate for such a long period, Jaxon cleared the display and brought up a proximity guide to sort out his current location.

As the map slowly generated, Jaxon continued to scan the horizon, hoping to glimpse some kind of structure or habitat that he could head for. After several minutes of squinting across the moon's surface, a notification alarm dinged in his ear.

The map displayed the escape pod's location-on the edge of Rehlo Crater, just a few dozen clicks from Mare Cognitum. According to the readout, that particular parcel of the moon's surface had been leased out for private strip mining. Jaxon quickly tapped the more info button, but no further information could be displayed.

Returning to the map display, an amber-colored arrow blinked slowly at his current location. He increased the magnification level and found a substantially sized structure just outside of the crater's edge. It was just under three kilometers toward the southern pole, and it wouldn't take him all that long to get there.

Jaxon stretched, took a series of deep breaths, and began to walk in the direction of the structure, noting how strange it felt to be walking in such low gravity again. As his pace increased, he concluded that the distance might pass much quicker than anticipated due to the lightness of his footsteps. Each step expending much less physical energy than what he was used to.

With a moderate walking pace established, Jaxon's mind switched to survival mode. He analyzed his life on Taloo Station and wondered where he might have gone wrong. He'd made it eight years there before being discovered. At least as far as he knew, that was. Then, nearly a dozen assassins were sent to take him out.

His first question: who sent the killers? Was it someone that he'd wronged somehow in his past life? Could it possibly be the company coming for him after discovering that he was alive all along?

Second question: where could he go now? Jaxon's mind chewed on that thought for some time.

The answer to the second question was very much related to the first. If he knew who it was that was after him, he'd much better be able to determine the length he'd have to travel for self-preservation. There was no use heading for another inner-ring space station if the facial recognition present at nearly every entry portal would certainly give him away. Same thing for entering Luna City. That's assuming that it was the company that was after him.

Jaxon sighed deeply. It became apparent that his only alternative might be to head to the outer ring, where crime and corruption were the daily norm. The company would be less likely to pursue him there. That's also assuming that he could even survive long enough to get there. The question still remained: Who was after him, and how far would they go to kill him?

Having hiked the first kilometer without any contact, in the far distance Jaxon could make out what appeared to be some kind of surface vehicle. A moon buggy. And it was heading directly toward him.

"Looks like it's about game time," Jaxon mumbled.

Jaxon continued on his current heading as he watched the buggy grow in size as it closed the distance. Within minutes, the transport was nearly upon him. Seated behind the clear bowl-shaped windshield was an older man with a gray beard, much longer than Jaxon had seen in years. He wondered just how somebody with that much facial hair could even wear an environmental suit.

As the buggy stopped, the old-timer waved at Jaxon then motioned him in. Cautiously, Jaxon nodded and moved to the side of the vehicle where a hatch was beginning to swing out.

Once the door was open, Jaxon climbed in and cycled through the pressure chamber before moving further into the vehicle. Making his way forward, he verified the environment was safe to breathe before removing his helmet and face shield. As he finished stowing them in his satchel, the old-timer opened the door to the cockpit.

"Well, what we got here?" the old man asked. "Looks like yer having a bit of car trouble, eh?"

Jaxon was a little baffled by the codger's slang and ancient earth accent. "Oh, you mean the escape pod?" Jaxon asked. "Yeah, I had a thruster problem on my ship and had to bail before I went down with the vessel."

"Yep. I reckon that's what that flash was a while ago. Ain't that thing got any better distance?" he asked as he stroked his beard, probably out of habit.

"You'd think, but here I am. Sorry about landing on your property," Jaxon said as he nodded in the direction in which he came.

"Ain't no thing. I reckon yer probably gonna be looking for a ride to the nearest call station?" the old man asked, surveying Jaxon with a peculiar look.

"If it isn't too much trouble," Jaxon said. "I'd be willing to pay you for your time and effort. I'm ..." Jaxon paused to determine what name he should be using. "I'm Jaxon," he finished, deciding that Martin Wheeler might have taken his last breath in this sector.

"Names DeWitt. Yeah, I can give you a ride. I was fixin' to head that way anyway, so you can keep yer money." DeWitt turned and stepped back into the cockpit. Jaxon followed and took the copilot seat.

"About how far of a ride is it to Luna City?" Jaxon asked.

"Luna City? Are you out of your mind? It's at least three hours away. No sir, I'm headin' to Carver Outpost. Yea, should be able to secure transport through the tunnels on into Luna City, if that's yer destination," DeWitt said as he adjusted a few controls on his dashboard before engaging the drive.

"Okay, then. How long until we get to Carver?" Jaxon asked, conceding that landing where he did was probably a blessing as he wouldn't have to explain his arrival at the docks of Luna City.

"Thirty minutes. Max," DeWitt said as he pointed his moon buggy toward their destination and engaged the autopilot.

Jaxon caught DeWitt giving him a sideways look again, his curiosity certainly piqued by his sudden appearance.

"Tell me, DeWitt, what is it you mine out here?" Jaxon asked, hoping to divert the attention away from himself.

"Oar, mostly. There's some heavy mineral deposits all over the surface, and the moon is littered with meteorites," DeWitt said, turning directly toward Jaxon.

"Isn't that the truth?" Jaxon said. "But hasn't the surface been picked clean? I know nine or ten years ago, the reports indicated that most of the meteorite salvage had been exhausted."

DeWitt nodded. "Yep. Sounds 'bout right. I got this parcel pretty cheap around about that time. You're not really from around here, are ya?" DeWitt asked as he sized up Jaxon's attire.

"Oh no, not at all. I spent a good deal of time here a decade or so ago but not so much since," Jaxon said as he adjusted his posture, attempting to betray a sense of confidence. It had been years since he'd had to use the technique, but he was confident that he hadn't lost his touch.

"Listen, I got to ask you a question, Jaxon, was it?" DeWitt began. "Where in tarnation did you get that environmental suit? If you ask me, you look like some kind of futuristic techno-nerd. Because that suit looks out of this world. I've been up on this rock looking down on earth for coming up on six years now and boy, let me tell you. That is one, fancy, suit yer wearin' there. That must've set you back a pretty penny."

Oh, shit, Jaxon thought. He instantly regretted not stocking his go bag with used riggings as opposed to the top of the line company-issued gear. What could he tell the old guy without sounding too farfetched?

"What, this old thing? I, uh, picked this up off of a freighter about a year ago. I think the merchant said something about it belonging to some government guy that got blasted out into space. Sometimes I feel it's a size or two too small for me, know what I mean?" Jaxon hoped that his improvisational skills were up to snuff.

DeWitt nodded, contemplating Jaxon's marginally believable story. "Sometimes it's all about being in the right place at the right time. Like I said earlier, I got this here plot of land for a song because the miners felt they had cleared as much useful salvage from the surface that they could. Shortly after closing escrow, a buddy of mine down on earth heard about this new gizmo that's able to strip mine the surface much more thoroughly. The device set me back the rest of my savings, but ever since, I've been laughing all the way to the bank by what I've been able to haul in," DeWitt said, returning his attention to the controls.

Jaxon nodded and listened for the next fifteen minutes as DeWitt continued to regale him about his mining adventures on the moon. It also gave him time to reflect a bit about the choices he'd made. Although the environment up on Taloo Station was a virtual Shangri-La compared to the moon's surface, at least here on the moon you had something. Something that you could call your own, and the ability to get away from it all. Up on Taloo, all you could do was escape as far as the confines of the station would allow. And none of it was yours. It was all a leased life, and Jaxon wondered where his own lease on life would end up.

14.

Before long, Jaxon could see Carver Outpost grow along the horizon. He couldn't help but wonder if he could've done more to alter his appearance before ditching the Bradbury. He made a mental note that when he set up his next go bag that he would include a bottle of hair dye and some clippers to change up his physicality. It's the least he could do on short notice.

As they pulled into Carver, Jaxon compared the facility to something like an old Western town set on the edge of the plains. Desolation spread as far as the eye could see and there were only four or five structures clustered together like an oasis in the sand. DeWitt maneuvered his moon buggy through an automatically controlled gate and parked next to the entrance to the station.

DeWitt turned to Jaxon and said, "Well, this is it. Hope I didn't bore you too much along the way."

"Not at all. You sure I can't give you something?" Jaxon asked, pulling a fistful of credits from his pocket.

"Nope. I've got all I need. I've got a little business inside, but I hope you have yourself a nice day."

As the all clear sign turned green, DeWitt opened both hatch doors, and they walked out into the outpost. DeWitt was off on his own path without another word. Jaxon cautiously surveyed the facility, paying extra attention to the potential presence of more assassins. Slowly, he made his way through the streets of the open market, circling back to the station's entrance doors.

Satisfied that the place appeared to be occupied by no more than the locals, he relaxed a bit and was off to take care of some things.

The first line of business was to trade in his environmental suit. He found a secondhand merchant store and walked right up to the counter.

"Excuse me, but I'm looking for a new environmental suit."

The man behind the counter turned and looked Jaxon up and down. His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly dismissed his surprise. "Sorry, fella. We don't sell new here. We only have used."

"I'm sorry," Jaxon said, "I don't necessarily mean new. Just new to me. I have grown tired of this one, and I'm looking for ... something different. You take trade-ins?"

Jaxon had the salesman's full attention as they bartered out a deal for an older model environmental suit that fit his needs. Ten minutes later, Jaxon walked out with a fistful of credits that the shop owner paid him extra because his suit was so nice. Walking through the streets suddenly felt so much different, and so much more awkward. The top-of-the-line suit that he'd just traded in felt like a second skin and this POS, that he almost certainly overpaid for, must have weighed ten times what he was used to. He swallowed his pride and accepted his new sense of blending in as he sought out the transport hub to Luna City.

Several minutes later, Jaxon came upon a stairway that led down to the subway. Unfortunately, the entrance was cordoned off, and a sign was plastered across: CLOSED FOR REPAIR.

"Excuse me," Jaxon asked an attendant off to the side of the entrance. "How long will these repairs take?"

"Well, that's a big unknown right now. There's been a cave in a few hundred meters down the track. It's those damn rebels. They think they own the moon, but they don't want to pay for anything. So, they vandalize the hell out of everything, and it really makes life hell."

"Are we talking hours or days?" Jaxon asked.

"Honestly, mister. Probably more like weeks. It's been this way for the last ten days."

"Sonofabitch," Jaxon mumbled. "Any other form of transportation to Luna City?"

"Well, a surface shuttle just left about an hour ago. I think the next one's scheduled for the day after tomorrow. We'll occasionally get a low-flying orbiter through here, but there's no saying when those are coming around because they're all private contractors."

Jaxon thanked the attended for his time and rushed back to where he last saw DeWitt. He just hoped that he hadn't left yet.

As Jaxon blasted through the entrance doors, he saw that the stall where DeWitt had parked was now empty. His heart sank a little as he felt the doom of being stuck in that shit hole for an extended period of time.

He quickly ran around the yard and found DeWitt's moon buggy parked next to a fuel-cell with several hoses connected to it. He was refueling.

Moments later, Jaxon stepped up to the front of DeWitt's buggy and put his thumb out, portraying a hitchhiker's stance. DeWitt motioned him in.

"Thanks again for your time, DeWitt, but I need another favor."

"Shoot," DeWitt said.

"Looks like the tube to Luna City is closed for repair for the foreseeable future. The moon shuttle just left about an hour ago, and another isn't due until a few days from now. I really need to get to Luna City, and I'd love to make it worth your while," Jaxon said as he pulled out the fistfull of surplus credits from the sale of his environmental suit.

"Well now, how much are we talking?" DeWitt asked, eyeing the handful of credits.

Jaxon promptly organized the credits then counted them back to DeWitt. "Looks like sixty-three credits," Jaxon said, shoving it toward DeWitt.

DeWitt reluctantly picked through the pile, siphoning out a mere thirty credits. "That's far too much for me to take just to give you a ride. Besides, I should be paying you for the company."

"So we have a deal?" Jaxon asked.

"Yep. As soon as we're fueled up, we'll hit the road."

Within thirty minutes, DeWitt had paid for his refill and was steering his moon buggy toward Luna City. Despite DeWitt's comment about companionship on the road, after the first few minutes a conversation, DeWitt turned on the audio system and blared classic country music throughout the cockpit.

It wasn't long after the second verse of the opening song that Jaxon drifted off to sleep.

"Four, three, two, brace for impact," I said as I reached for the rung closest to me. I lashed my safety cable onto a secure hook just as the explosion went off far above our heads. The explosion was silent, but I could feel its intensity through the massive vibrations on my handhold. I looked at Gillette and was not at all surprised at the cavalier expression plastered across his face. It was like just another day at the office for him.

As the vibrations began to subside, I knew that unless we moved quickly, the authorities would be swarming our location. Our timing had to be precise, and we were a mere three or four meters away from the designated access hatch laid out in our planned escape.