The ship was drifting. It had been orbiting the earth for about 30 minutes now. There was absolute silence.

Richard thought it was terrible.

He was completely alone with his thoughts. Every once in a while, one of the consoles emitted some strange garbled static sounds. He assumed the ship’s computer was checking local radio communication to make sure its path to the earth’s surface would be clear when it descended – whenever that was.

Richard laid his head back on the chair. His thoughts turned to Madeline. That’s worth going home for, he thought again. He began to think about his job, and all the people he knew there: Bob from accounting, John across the hall, and Isaac in the cubicle next to him. His boss Mike. The janitor, Chris. He knew most of the people on his floor – if not well, at least by name – and as he thought about them, he realized how much they cared about him.

And how much he cared about them.

He thought about his house – his home. He thought about his neighbor, Jack, and Jack’s little min-pin puppy. He thought about the little old lady, Mrs. Martin, who lived across the street and liked to collect frog memorabilia. And what about the elementary school down the road? A lot of times the kids would ride their bikes across the his yard on the way home from school. He never stopped them, even though it often damaged his lawn a bit.

He thought about his home some more. If he was correct about the length of time he had been gone, then his favorite TV show would be in the evening. There was a half-finished copy of “The Return of the King” on his coffee table, which he read every day after work. There was a second draft of a cost proposal open on his computer, which he was hoping to give to his supervisor within the next week.

As each of these things went through his mind, he kept coming back to this thought:

That’s why I’m going home.

Richard was already resolute about returning but now he was even more so. All doubts were gone from his mind. It would take something pretty severe to stop him now… like aliens. Real aliens, not dream/nightmare aliens.

Suddenly, out of the static from the consoles came a voice:

“Attention foreign vessel! This is the United States Air Force, contacting you from the Kennedy Space Station in Florida. Please identify yourself.”

Richard jumped to his feet and frantically looked for the source of the voice. It was coming from a small speaker in one wall. He tried to find a microphone, but he couldn’t find anything remotely resembling one, so he began talking directly into the speaker.

“Hello, yes, uh, my name is Richard Smith, I was on the moon, and then I found this, uh, rocket ship, and now I’m headed back to earth!”

He smacked his forehead. I sound like an idiot, he thought.

Over the intercom, he heard the sounds of confusion. Lots of people were talking at once, and he thought he heard someone say, “I told you, the systems are never wrong about these things!” Then the first voice come back on:

“Richard, there’s a bunch of us down here who wouldn’t believe it until we actually heard your voice. We’re not sure how this is all happening but* o*ur* s&y*#t(ms* s$m*()w &)$*!@^$%^$%#&(**************”

The voice was consumed by static. Richard started yelling into the speaker “I’m sorry, you’re breaking up” and other such things, desperate to not lose the anonymous voice from earth.

Over the static, Richard heard the main console emit a strange sound. Looking at it, he saw the words

“ORBIT DECAYING. DESCENDING TO SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

The voice from earth then began to return, saying

“*****(*(!*$)%&#om*uter* sh*ow tha*t your orbit is decaying. You need to correct and maintain your orbit until we can set up a landing zone for your ship.”

Richard stammered, “Well, uh… there’s really nothing I can do about that. You see, uh, the ship is locked into a splash-down location, and we have no power to change it… and I –”

The voice started saying something, but it was covered by static, which grew louder until the speaker shut itself off. Richard stared at it. At least he knew that somebody was aware of his situation – several somebodys, apparently.

He looked out the porthole and caught his breath. It was the earth! This whole time, the porthole was facing away, into space. But now… It was breathtaking. Richard saw the continents and oceans, and all their contours. He saw clouds everywhere, and mountains peeking through them, and greens and browns and blues of all different shades and hues. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He soon didn’t have a choice, as the picturesque planet grew closer, and the rocket began to shake. He looked around the interior of the ship and saw that the speedometer was maxing out, and the main screen read

“ENTERING ATMOSPHERE. PLEASE FASTEN SEAT BELT.”

It didn’t take Richard long to get into the chair, as the rocket jerked & flung him into it. He quickly located the seat belt and fastened it securely around his waist. He was glad he did, because he could see flames licking around the edges of the porthole as the ship began to plow through the earth’s atmosphere. Richard thought the ship was going to be torn apart, as the geeforces began to press him against his chair. He began to feel his nauseous, and his the edges of his vision faded. He closed his eyes and used what little focus he could muster to pray for his life.

Suddenly, the shaking stopped. Richard opened his eyes. The flames were gone, and although his vision was still blurry, he could see that the console screen read

“ENTRY COMPLETE. BRACE FOR CHUTE DEPLOYMENT.”

The rocket ship jerked abruptly, slamming Richard against his chair and stunning him. He stared at the instrument covered wall in front of him as he felt the ship flip itself over so that it was pointing towards the sky. He could see the ocean through the porthole, approaching at a swift pace. He couldn’t tell how long the ship floated downwards,
but it

seemed

like

hours

before he finally felt the shock the ship hitting the water and saw the ocean sweeping by the window. The waves began to move up and down against the window, and he saw the parachute collapse into the water.

Richard’s vision swam. Now that it was over, the stress of his entire adventure was taking its toll on him, and he could feel himself losing consciousness. Still in a sitting position, he was on his back, facing upwards. He thought he heard the distant sound of a helicopter, as if from a dream. He then heard something clanging on the outside of the ship. Completely unable to focus, he barely saw what looked like a Navy Seal prying open the door directly above his head. The Seal leaned over the doorway and asked, “Are you Richard Smith?”

As images of Madeline flitted across his mind, Richard could hardly keep his eyes open, but he managed to gasp,

“Yes… but… you can call me… Rick.”

Then, he blacked out, passing into blissful, silent rest.

The rocket was shaking, but not as violently as Richard would have expected. It wasn’t really shaking at all – it was closer to vibrating. This was accompanied by a sound that Richard could only describe as a low roar, which was getting louder. Across the room from the main console, a digital meter was rising along with the volume of the roar. It was labeled with values from 0% to “100%,” with different colors for different parts of it – 0-70% was red, 70-85% was yellow, and 85-100% was green. As the vibration and volume increased, the level of this apparent power meter climbed rapidly. Immediately next to it was some sort of speedometer that looked very similar to the other meter. It had no unit of measurement, and it rested firmly at “0.”

The rocket lurched abruptly. Richard peered out the small porthole. The ship hadn’t left the ground – yet. He glanced over at the power meter. It was in the yellow, and moving quickly towards the green. The ship was actually shaking now, and the roar was deafening. Since he couldn’t see the outside of the ship, Richard couldn’t tell what was causing the roar. He figured it was some sort of fire used to propel the ship, like what you see coming out of the bottoms of US rockets, but he wasn’t entirely sure. This was probably some sort of alien craft, and it might use a propulsion technology he had never seen before. Heck (he barely even noticed his use of the word this time), it could even be powered by squirrels running on little wheels, for all he knew.

Suddenly, the rocket leaped into the air, knocking Richard to the ground. He tried to get back up again, but the geeforces held him down. The rocket must be taking off, he thought – the roar was deafening now, and all the shaking had stopped.

With great effort, he managed to pry himself off the floor. He could see the sky moving by outside – or rather, space, and all the stars that filled it. He looked over at the power meter again. It had moved into the green and was hovering close to 100%. He looked out the again. The rocket was slanting a little bit in its course from the moon – he couldn’t tell if that was supposed to happen or not – and it was in such a way that he could see the moon’s surface. Looking down, he could see his cabin. He had shut the front door when he left, but he forgot to put out the fireplace again – there was still a thin column of smoke rising from the chimney. He hoped that the fire wouldn’t cause any problems later, but he chuckled to himself at the thought of befuddled scientists using satellites or telescopes or whatever they used to look at the moon and wondering what the heck was causing the smoke.

He stopped. He was shocked – he had never found humor in the discomfort or confusion of others. Maybe he was being a bit harsh on himself – no one was actually getting hurt in his hypothetical scientist situation – but still… he had never felt that way before. He tried to make himself solemn, but no matter how hard he tried, Richard just couldn’t keep himself from smiling.

Looking out the porthole again, he saw that the moon was moving away now. He peered over the edge of the window, straining to get one last look at his cabin, but it was out of sight. He sighed, and climbed into the swiveling chair near the main console. It was strange – he had only been on the moon for two days, and it certainly wasn’t a pleasant experience, but he realized that he was going to miss it.

The rocket shuddered, and an alarm began to sound. The main screen was flashing “POWER LOW.” Richard whipped around to the power meter – it was in the red and dropping quickly. He frantically looked around at all of the screens and buttons, trying to find some way to stop the power loss. He turned back to the main screen. “How can we be out of power?!” he cried, panicking. The screen flickered. He stared at it, and it changed to an image of the earth with a ring around it, the rocket, and an arrow pointing from the rocket to the ring.

“Huh?” Richard said. The screen seemed to react to his question, and a messages appeared:

“WILL ENTER PLANETARY ORBIT. SELECT SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Richard was still confused. “That doesn’t solve our power problem!”

The console chirped, almost as if it was annoyed.

“POWER NOT NEEDED TO MAINTAIN ORBIT. SELECT SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Before Richard could respond, the roar suddenly stopped, and the alarm faded away. He looked at the power meter. It was at 0%. The speedometer, however, remained where it was – “225.” Since it wasn’t labeled was units of speed, he couldn’t tell if that was 225 miles per hour, 225 kilometers per hour, or 225 inches per hour; he couldn’t even tell if it was slow or fast. He assumed it was fast, since he could still feel the geeforces, although he was somewhat used to them.

The console chirped again. It still said “SELECT SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Richard looked at it. There was an image of the earth spinning, with sections of the oceans outlined – he figured the computer must have determined all of the safe locations to land or rather, splash. He thought about this. He had seen all the footage of US space shuttles falling into the ocean with parachutes trailing behind them, but there was still something that didn’t make sense. So far, the console had responded to his questions, so he decided to voice this concern as well. He cleared his throat.

The console chirped.

Looking at it sideways, Richard said,

“So, uh… if we’re out of power, how can I control where we land?”

He couldn’t figure out why he felt compelled to say “we.”

The console responded with

“SMALL AMOUNT OF POWER RESERVED FOR REACHING SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Richard cleared his throat again. The console chirped again.

“If we’re already out of power, then how would we ever reach someplace in another part of the galaxy? You gave me that option, but wouldn’t we run out of power before getting there?”

The console chirped several times, as if it took offense to all his doubting questions, before displaying

“POWER CONSUMPTION CALCULATED FOR FASTEST ROUTE TO CHOSEN DESTINATION.”

Richard thought about this. That would mean that if he had chosed to go to Mars, it would have taken proportionally longer because of more effective use of power. He sat back in the chair. He was satisfied.

The console, however, was not. It chirped again.

“SELECT SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Richard sighed. Looking at the spinning globe, he touched a location in the Atlantic Ocean near the east coast of the US. A ring began to pulse around it, almost like a radar beacon, and the question appeared: “LOCATION CORRECT? Y/N.” He tapped the “Y” and the console chirped in acknowledgment: “LOCATION SET.”

“When will we splashdown?” Richard asked, but the console didn’t answer. He repeated the question and still received no response. Frustrated, he kicked the base of the machine.

It chirped and displayed:

“DO NOT DAMAGE EQUIPMENT.”

Richard sighed and sank into the chair.

The rocket was rather small and looked like it only held one person. It looked like your typical cartoon rocket, like what a child would draw and a mother would stick on the fridge. It was white, tall, and skinny, and it was larger in the center, but it was very fluid and streamlined. There was a small porthole in the side, a long needle-like antenna on the top, and three thin, red feet that swept out from the sides into little points on the ground.

As close to the rocket as he dared, Richard looked it over. He couldn’t find any seams where parts were held together or where a door would be. If there was a door, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to open it. It hadn’t been here before. Was it safe? Was there something inside?

He could feel an argument coming on inside his head again, so he quickly stopped asking questions. This looked like his only ticket off the moon, so he began looking for a way to get inside.

He tentatively reached out and put his hand on the smooth, sleek surface. It wasn’t cold, like he expected. He put his other hand on, and began to move them across the surface, looking for some sort of opening device. One of his hands slid into a small depression, and he heard a hissing noise above him.

Stepping back, he saw two pieces of metal sliding back to reveal a narrow doorway, and a very complicated-looking ladder emerged from below it and began to unfold and descend towards him. It slowed as it reached the ground and touched down gently.

Richard was amazed, a feeling he was getting rather used to. He eyed the doorway warily, as if a strange, tentacled alien was going to waddle out at any moment. He shook his head to clear out the images of the nightmare he had the night before.

He took a deep breath. He resolutely put his hands on the rungs and placed a foot on the lowest rung. This is it, he thought. This is my only chance. I’ve got to do it, and do it right!

He pulled himself up and began climbing the ladder. Since it was a small rocket, it wasn’t very far up, but it seemed to him that it took forever to reach the top. When he got there, he hesitated before stepping inside, but quickly made himself duck through.

Once he was inside, the door sealed shut. He whipped around and put his hands on it as if he could force it open again. He couldn’t even find a crack where the two metal pieces met, so he turned back around and familiarized himself with the cockpit. It was small, but not cramped, and full of blinking meters, buttons, and levers. It wasn’t dark, although he couldn’t tell where the light was coming from. There was a single red light blinking slowly on what looked like the main console. Richard moved over to it and looked at it closely. It was next to an empty keyhole.

Richard took a breath and took out the key he had found in his cabin. It was about the right size, so he put it in the slot and turned it.

The rocket whirred to life. Lights turned on all over the cockpit, and the whole ship was humming.

Richard looked around in amazement. There were so many lights, controls, screens, indicators, that he simply didn’t know what to do. He focused his attention on the console where he found the keyhole. There was a large screen with the words “SET COURSE.” near the top and a picture of a galaxy. He wondered why the words were in English. Maybe they were actually in some alien language and there was some translation technology in place that enabled him to understand them. He shook his head. There were just too many mysteries here, and he couldn’t understand a single one of them.

He couldn’t find any buttons near the screen so he touched it, and a box flickered around the tail end of one of the arms of the galaxy. The screen zoomed in on the area and displayed several galaxies with labels pointing at each of them. There were so many that the words were really small in order to fit them all on the screen. Richard squinted his eyes to read them and found one that read “SOL.” He touched the system that it indicated and the screen zoomed in again, this time focusing on his chosen solar system. There were nine planets orbiting the sun, several of them with moons, and there was a small arrow pointing at one moon in particular, orbiting a small, blue-and-white planet.

That’s earth! Richard thought, and his heart leapt. He quickly touched the planet, and, refocusing again, the screen displayed a message that said: “PROCEED TO THIS DESTINATION? YES/NO.”

He caught his breath as he pressed “YES” and the rocket began to shake. Images of Madeline flitted across his thoughts. He took a breath.

“THAT’S why I need to go home,” he said aloud.

Richard climbed out the crater – no easy task, but he didn’t let it stop him – and set off again. At first, he didn’t care which way he went, as long as he went somewhere, but he quickly realized that that would get him nowhere. He then set himself towards his previously chosen stalagmite – this time going around the crater he had fallen into. He didn’t want to learn that lesson again.

As he walked towards the stalagmite, he thought he saw smoke rising in the distance. Was it a fire? He didn’t the moon could catch fire because of the weak atmosphere, but then again, he was breathing. He found this thought returning to his mind whenever he encountered something that didn’t make sense, and it was starting to drive him crazy. In fact, this whole situation was starting to drive him crazy.

He didn’t stop walking, but he found himself tensing up. His fists were clenched, and he was breathing heavier. “WHY?!” he shouted. “Why am I on the moon?? Why am I able to survive on the moon?? It would be nice if at least ONE thing made sense around here!!”

He stopped. He had just come to the top of a small hill, and looking ahead, he saw something familiar. It should be good to see something familiar, but he couldn’t help but feel otherwise this time.

What he saw was a small, rectangular cabin made of wood, with smoke coming out of a short, fat chimney.

Richard was frozen in place. Was this “his” cabin? The one he woke up in? The one where all of this started?

He suddenly bolted and ran straight towards the cabin. He forgot about his stalagmite. He forgot about his dreams. He forgot about his anger and thought only of one thing.

It couldn’t be. It can’t be my cabin.

As he got closer, he could see that the door was open. He could see a fire inside the fireplace.

He raced up the steps and stopped in the middle of the room. There was a bed that looked just like his bed and a pair of polished shoes just like his work shoes right next to it. There was a half-finished glass of water on the nightstand, right where he had left it two nights ago.

This was his cabin.

Richard was distraught. He had walked all that way, only to accidentally walk all the back? That wasn’t a short distance either!

He sat down on the bed. He really wasn’t sure how far he had walked, he just knew that it felt like a long time, and it had seemed like he had covered a lot of ground. He must’ve gotten disoriented when he climbed out of the crater and headed towards the wrong stalagmite.

“Gotten” disoriented. He could hear the voice of his old elementary school teacher correcting him, saying it should be “become” disoriented.

Richard shook his head. It didn’t matter now. He had already spent most of two days on the moon and was no closer to getting off than he was when he started.

He hung his head between his knees.

He saw something peculiar. It was a key, right between his work shoes, where he normally kept his keys. Only these weren’t his keys, and it was only one key, not a set, and he had never seen a key quite like this before.

he leaned over and picked it up. It had a round base like a key for a pay-per-use locker at a theme park, but it was significantly larger and longer than one of those keys. The notches on the sides were longer than a normal key, and they had strange shapes to them. What could it be for?

Richard stood up and scratched his head. Of course, another mystery for him to ponder. Looking up, he glanced through one of the windows and did a double take.

There was a rocket ship standing outside.

Maybe that’s what the key is for, Richard thought.

Richard laid there for a while. He felt a lot like the child who said, “Not yet Mom – just five more minutes – I don’t want to go to school!” He was never one for sleeping in – he always got up a little early, even on days off, and he never got up later than 8:00 a.m. – but he really, really didn’t want to get up this morning. If you could call it morning. The stress of the nightmare – or rather, all of his strange dreams – had worn on him. The whole hitting-his-head-and-passing-out-thing probably didn’t help any, either.

I have to get up, he thought. I need to get off of the moon!

But I’m really tired, another part of him thought. I’ve been through a lot.

Putting it off is only going to make this ordeal last longer, the first part of him replied.

Yeah, but is it really that bad here?

What on earth are you talking about, this is the moon! How could it not be bad?

Well, you’re able to breathe.

Yes, that is rather peculiar – and good – but what does that have to do with anything?

There’s also a cabin – complete with a fireplace, clothes, a bed… I bet there’s even food in there somewhere!

…and?

You have everything you need here! Why would you want to leave?

…

Richard couldn’t answer that question. He wasn’t willing to accept that living on the moon was okay, but he had no good argument against it.

See? said the one side of his thoughts.

Richard was struggling. He scrunched up his face.

You don’t have a good answer because there isn’t one!

Richard rolled onto his side, hoping he could block out the voice. He wished he had a pillow to hold over his ears.

Stop wasting all your energy and strength and just –

NO!

Richard screamed the word at the top of his lungs.

He found himself sitting bolt upright. Startled, he looked around, listening. The voice was gone.

Richard sat there for a moment, rather stunned at the whole incident, then quickly stood up. He wasn’t going to wait any longer – he was getting off the moon, and he was getting off now.

Richard woke with a start. He was dreaming again, not about Madeline this time, but about strange, terrible creatures – not all of the creatures were bad, mind you, but they were all quite terrifying. He looked around. The utter darkness surrounding him was better than the dreams, but not much. For all he knew, the creatures he had dreamt about could be living in the darkness.

Richard shivered – partly out of fear, but mostly because he was still so cold. There was no wind, which made the whole situation feel worse – the absolute stillness made everything feel closer to death.

Once the night had enveloped the moon, Richard had turned around and gone down to the bottom of the crater. He figured if nothing else, he would find some sort of insulation there, like in a basement. Basements are usually colder than any other part of a house, because the temperature in them doesn’t change much – while the rest of the house warms up because of a furnace or heater, the basement remains at the same temperature. Richard knew this, and hoped it would hold true in the crater.

It did, although not to the same degree as a basement – but anything warmer than where he was when night fell was good. He had toyed with the idea of returning to his cabin, but he quickly realized that it would be nearly impossible to find it in the total darkness. Even if he could have found it, he would probably have frozen to death or passed out from the cold before he got there.

Richard sat up. He wondered how long it had been since he first fell asleep. “Fell asleep” might not be the best term, he thought to himself. He had slept, but only fitfully – he had continually passed between a light sleep and a semi-conscious state in which he was vaguely aware of his surroundings. Whenever he was able to think about it, he would rub his hands and feet together to keep his fingers and toes from getting frostbite. He really wished he had put on some shoes and socks before leaving the cabin. It was difficult to think at all in the constant half-sleep, and it didn’t really help his dreams much, either.

Much like when night fell, Richard suddenly became aware of a growing light. Before long, it was bright enough to see all around the whole crater, even up to the rim on all sides. To the east, he could see what looked like the sun peeking up over the horizon.

He scratched his head. He was confused. He didn’t think “dawn” and “dusk” – if you could call them that here – happened this way on the moon. It didn’t really happen this way at nightfall – unless he slept through it when he was unconscious.

He stood up and turned around. He could hear a strange droning nose – somewhat like the engine in a bus sounds when you fall asleep on a long bus ride – and it was growing louder. Richard tensed up. He didn’t know what this was, but all of his dreams made him very uneasy about it. It sounded like some sort of vehicle, but unlike any he had heard before, and, judging by the sound, the vehicle was getting closer. And there was nowhere to hide.

Suddenly, the vehicle roared over the top of the crater and rushed straight towards Richard. He dived out of the way, and the vehicle skidded across the dirt, stopping a few yards away.

Richard flipped himself over and leaned back on his arms, out of breath. The vehicle had six wheels, and looked exactly like his idea of a moon buggy. A door on the side, hinged on the bottom, opened up and made a ramp to the ground. A person in a space suit stepped out. He was about the size of a human being – in fact, his suit looked just like the ones worn by American astronauts!

Richard got to his feet and stood up slowly. Was this person here to rescue him? He looked like an astronaut, so maybe someone from the International Space Station had discovered his plight and came to take him home!

The astronaut moved his hands to the base of his helmet, and began to pull it off with a hiss. Richard’s eyes widened in horror. Instead of a human face, he saw two large, black, bulbous eyes, and tentacles protruding from every part of the creature’s head! It reached out a hand and took a step towards him.

Richard jerked awake. He was covered in sweat, and breathing heavily. At least he was warm, he thought dryly. He shook himself to make sure he wasn’t still dreaming. He wasn’t.

Sitting up, Richard discovered that it was, in fact, light outside, which was probably why he dreamt about it. He was right about the “dawn,” however – he couldn’t see the sun over the horizon, and the only thing the moon’s morning had in common with the earth’s was the growing light.

Richard felt his toes, ears, nose, and fingers – they were all still intact. In fact, now that it was morning, it was getting warmer, and no part of him was overwhelmingly cold anymore. He had survived the night.

Richard jerked his head up gasped for breath. Coughing, he laid it back down sideways and gulped in air. He didn’t move for a long time – he just laid there, breathing.

After a while, he looked up. He was lying face down on a rather large slope, looking up towards the top. He started to look around, but he suddenly realized he had a terrible headache, so he laid his head back down, closed his eyes, and rested.

Eventually, Richard felt well enough to look around some more, so he propped himself up on his elbows and took a good, long look around.

He was in a large crater, about halfway down what he figured was the eastern slope. Why he didn’t see it coming, he couldn’t say. It must have been one of those optical illusions where the one edge was higher than the other, so he simply couldn’t see it until he was in it.

Richard rolled over onto his back and lay there, thinking about his dream. He couldn’t place the tree, but the woman he immediately knew. Oh yes, he knew her. Her name was Madeline. He sighed. Madeline. A name that as beautiful as the woman herself.

Madeline worked in the same office as Richard, on the same floor, but on the completely opposite side of the building – quite a distance away. Despite this distance, she would often visit Richard’s cubicle during her breaks. Richard never completely understood this. Perhaps more accurately, he understood it a little, but he didn’t know what to do with it. Sometimes, he would go visit her in her office, but not as often as he would like. He always had a strange blend of excitement and fear when deciding if he should go visit her, and the fear (which he also had a hard time understanding) frequently kept him from going.

Richard’s mind turned to the group campouts he sometimes attended. A lot of them were organized by people from work – many of whom were outdoor freaks – and sometimes he would tag along, although he never really knew why. One thing that he liked, though, is that Madeline often went to them as well. Another thing he liked – although it, too, boggled his mind – is how she would always try to sit close to him, even if it took her away from her friends. Not always right next to him, but always close.

Richard sighed again, and smiled.

After a moment, he sat up and looked around. He started. It had become quite dark while he had been laying there! He couldn’t see the sun anymore, only a glow from the horizon. The darkness didn’t bother him too much, but what did was the line of dark shadow separating the the fading light from the darkness. It lay across the surface of the moon and was moving over the crater, heading directly for him!

Richard sprang to his feet. The sudden movement intensified his headache, but he ignored it, and began to run up the hill to the top of the crater. Stumbling and panting, he reached the top and stopped just as the darkness overcame him. He fell to his knees and gasped for breath. He could see the light being absorbed by the darkness, further and further in the distance.

He forced himself to stand up. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, but he had watched the nature channel enough to know how quickly it would get cold at night in an environment like this. He felt a chill, and he crossed his arms for warmth. He would have to find some sort of shelter quickly if he was going to survive the night.

Richard looked up.

He saw a tall, dark-haired woman standing by a large tree. Attached to the tree was a tire swing. The woman was wearing a long, black dress, and she seemed to be posing, as if for a picture. She was smiling and gesturing, like she wanted Richard to come to her.

Richard was lying face down, so he tried to push himself up with his arms, but they were too weak. He felt like there was a weight on top of his back, and the harder he tried to get up, the heavier the weight was.

He looked up again. The woman was gesturing more excitedly now. Richard tried just getting to his knees, but even that was impossible.

The woman and the tree began to move away – not like he or the woman was willfully moving away – more like everything was being pulled away from him by an unseen force.

Richard tried more frantically to get up. He quickly gave up and tried to crawl on his belly, but his legs were like lead. The woman and the tree were shrinking rapidly now. He gave one last effort to push himself up, but collapsed miserably. Panting, he strained to lift his head one last time. He saw the woman and the tree shrink into nothing, and disappear.

The landscape was filled with craters, hills, and spires sticking out of the ground – stalagmites, weren’t they? Richard was surprised that he remembered that. As he walked, it didn’t take him long to realize that he didn’t know where he was going. He was walking away from the cabin – which was good – but what was his final destination?

He stopped and thought. No! He said to himself. I must keep moving! Richard knew that if he stopped, he might not get started again. He made himself think while he walked – something he didn’t do too often.

He didn’t really know where he needed to be, or rather, where to go to help him get off the moon. He’d simply have to pick a destination, and go there. He decided to pick one of the stalagmites.

Heading towards his chosen stalagmite, Richard remembered something else. He had seen it in an old western movie – the main character was an open range cowboy, and he would always make sure he was completely aware of his surroundings. It was a pretty good movie – not one of those cheesy ones, although Richard often liked the cheesy ones too – and the cowboy really seemed to know what he was doing, so Richard decided to put the idea into practice.

After working up his resolve to start walking again, Richard stopped to look around. As he did so, he realized that it would really help if he knew which way was north. Did the moon even have directions like that? Back on earth, they were based on the magnetic poles of the planet – surely the moon had magnetic poles as well? Even if it did, there was really no way to tell where they were, so he decided to make up the directions himself. His stalagmite would be “west,” which would make his cabin in the “southeast” direction. There was a medium-sized crater to the south, a large hill to the east, and a cluster of small stalagmites in the north. If he ever lost sight of his cabin and needed to get back, he could simply head directly in between the medium crater and the large hill.

As soon as he had done all this, Richard promptly began walking again. He took a quick glance back at his cabin to see how far he had gone. It was quite a distance away, but his stalagmite in the east didn’t really seem that much closer. Wait. “His cabin,” he had called it. He thought about this. It seemed wrong – rude, even – to call it “his” cabin. It really didn’t belong to him. Who did it belong to, anyway? The same person – or people, maybe – who put him here?

Did the cabin belong to aliens?

As foolish as the thought sounded to Richard, he simply coudn’t shake the idea of aliens. If there were aliens here, were they watching him now? Was this some sort of terrible experiment, like the kind you see in really bad sci-fi movies?

Before he could pursue this thought any further, Richard slipped and tumbled down a sudden slope, hit his head a rock, and passed out.

Richard clenched his eyes shut. He didn’t dare breathe. After a few seconds, though, he opened one eye. He found that this was too difficult to do and opened his other eye too. Nothing bad seemed to be happening – he wasn’t being sucked out into space, he wasn’t explosively decompressing – so he let out his breath all at once. He was suddenly reminded of when he was a child and he took swimming lessons. He would dive as deep as he could and see how long he could hold his breath. Then, when he couldn’t handle it any longer, he would swim up to the surface and let all his breath out at once.

Considering his current situation, Richard was surprised at how clear the memory was – he hadn’t been in a swimming pool since he was 7 years old. He missed it.

Richard stared at the landscape around him. Again with the staring, he thought. He looked at his feet. They weren’t going to move themselves. He looked up again. Here goes nothing, he thought, and stepped off the doorstep.

Still, nothing bad had happened, so he took another step. And another. Before he knew it, he was walking across the surface of the moon – away from the relative safety of the cabin. It was nothing like the films he always saw on television, where it was hard to walk and the low gravity made each step a relative bound. Whatever kept him from asphyxiating must be making his gravity more normal – that is, normal the way it is on earth.

Richard didn’t know where he was going – he just knew that if he was to ever get home, he had to leave the cabin. He looked back at it. It was still the way he had left it – the door was open, and as near as he could tell, the fire was still burning in the fireplace. He shook his head and turned back to where he was going – wherever it was. “Never look back,” his father had always said. Now was as good a time as ever to remember that.