The Next Continent by Issui Ogawa Page A

become the crew’s sole reason for existing.
    The afternoon of the sixth day, Sohya and Tae suited up and ventured outside onto the surface. The moment they emerged from the air lock, Tae called out in amazement. “Wow! Look how long the shadows are!” The two-week lunar day was nearly over. The sun was hanging just over the horizon. Instead of the colors of sunset, the shadows of the base and of Jiang’s legs seemed to stretch endlessly, razor sharp over the plain.
    Jiang pulled his excavation tool from the regolith. It looked like a standard shovel, but Sohya assumed it must be specialized. Surely the Chinese would not bring anything less all the way to the moon.
    â€œWhat sort of tool is that?” Sohya asked.
    â€œIt’s just an ordinary shovel,” said Jiang.
    Deflated, Sohya and Tae watched as Jiang walked to White Tiger and began shoveling sun-drenched regolith against its side. Regolith was banked against the third of the module closest to the docking node, apparently piled there by hand. Over and over, Jiang scooped regolith against the module in a monotonous rhythm. “I’d ask you to help if we had any extra shovels,” he said. “In this gravity, it’s easier than it looks.”
    â€œWhy are you doing that?” asked Sohya.
    â€œProtection from charged particles. The moon doesn’t have a strong magnetic field like the earth does. Solar proton events and cosmic radiation are a constant danger. For short-term visitors to space like you, drugs give enough protection. But if you stay for a year, cumulative exposure gets to be a real problem.”
    â€œWhat does the radiation do?” asked Tae. “Does it make holes in the base?”
    â€œHoles? No. It can cause cancer though.”
    â€œCancer!” she said fearfully. Jiang smiled.
    â€œDon’t worry. In four years, we’ve completely covered the habitation module. As long as we go there when we get a solar storm warning, we’re fine. Before Crew III finished covering it, they had to take shelter under the water tank.”
    â€œSo the life sciences module comes next, because of the creatures inside.” Sohya looked up at the four-meter-high module. Regolith was piled against it to a height of only about eighty centimeters. It was like using a spoon to bury an elephant. “At this rate, it looks like it’s going to take ten years to finish.”
    â€œIncluding the new module, we plan to have it done in twelve.”
    â€œWow. That’s…a pretty long-range plan,” mumbled Sohya. Tae picked up a discarded solar panel and made as if to help Jiang dig, but he stopped her.
    â€œNo—you might cut your gloves on the edge. And be careful, there’s a lot of trash around here.”
    They took a closer look at the surface around them. An intermittent trail of objects of all sizes extended outward from the module’s dump hatch—canisters of exhausted drying agent, discarded electronic components, even the mummified remains of animals. Some of the detritus was close to the module, but other pieces were some distance away.
    â€œThere’s a trick to evacuating the air from the dump chamber. If you release the outer hatch with a little atmosphere inside, the trash flies out nicely. Too much atmosphere and the decompression might damage the hatch. It’s fun to get it just right and see how far you can shoot the trash. My cooking-oil toss holds the Crew IV record, at 15.55—” Jiang looked toward the garbage trail and stopped. “Uh-oh. Somebody beat me. That’s a seaweed cultivation case, isn’t it? I guess Cui’s the new record holder.”
    â€œHow can you do this?” yelled Tae. The two men wheeled in surprise. She stood with hands on hips as if defending the lunar surface. “Don’t you remember what we did to Earth? And now you’re doing the same thing here?”
    â€œWell, we can’t take it back