Preface

“The Eagle II has landed.” The voice came through loud and clear. There was applause throughout the room. America was back on the Moon.

After descending the short ladder to the surface the astronaut turned to the camera, the red, white, and blue outer layer of his suit rippling in the vacuum like the snap of a pennant off Cape Cod. “That’s another small step for a person, another . . . uh. . . .” The astronaut, Captain Bill Bailey, turned, looking into the distance. “Wait a minute.”

“Pan the camera,” someone urged and after a moments hesitation the picture moved but the sudden glare blanked the picture.

“Dammit!”

“Hang on,” the technician said in an exasperated voice. It’ll compensate in a moment.”

Even as he spoke the picture returned ghostly, like Neil Armstrong hopping beneath the LEM.

“What the hell?”

A vehicle approached them, treads throwing up dust like a Mississippi mud-skivver. It was already very close, as if waiting for them nearby.

“What is it?”

“You mean, who is it? Can you zoom in?”

“I see a standard.”

A groan went up. “It’s the Chinese!”

“What?”

The vehicle stopped near the dumbfounded astronauts. After a moment’s pause two figures climbed out, approaching them.

“Boys, we have a problem.” CAPCOM said.

Astronauts and Taikonauts stood looking dumbly at one another.

“Their radios are on a different frequency, fellas.”

“Can’t we adjust?”

“I mean, real different. I guess they didn’t want to take a chance of us knowing they were already there.”

“It worked.”

“It doesn’t really matter because this is between Washington and Beijing. They’re meeting at the SL Embassy as we speak.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Watch the feed.”

Bailey looked on in growing horror. “The Chinese are claiming the Moon!”

“What?”

“They’ve built a base right over those hills.”

“That was our base!”

“Uh-uh, the Chinese say it’s theirs now, finder’s keepers.”

“Dawg! Can they do that?”

“I don’t know, Eagle II, but you may have to return to orbit.”

“Without Base we ain’t got the fuel.”

“That’s a rog-o.” There followed a long silence. “It’s out of our hands.”

“No shit,” Bailey muttered to 3 billion outraged viewers before NASA could break the connection. “No fucking shit!”