Luna: New Moon

I was still sending money to my family. I made them rich, I made them celebrities. They were in Veja magazine: the sister, the brother of Our Lady of Helium. The Iron Hand, the woman who lit the world! They had a wonderful apartment and big cars and pools and private tutors and security guards and one day I said, Stop. You’ve taken taken taken, you’ve dined out and partied and grown fat on my money and name and not one word of thanks, not one acknowledgement of what I have done up here, not one glint of gratitude or appreciation. Your children, my nephews and nieces don’t even recognise my face. You call me the Iron Hand, well, here’s an iron judgement. The final gift from the moon. I have placed in a secure account fares for a one-way trip to the moon. If you want Corta Hélio money, work for Corta Hélio money. With Corta Hélio. Commit, or I will never send you so much as a single decima again.

Come to the moon. Come and join me. Come and build a world and a Corta dynasty.

Not one member of my family took up the offer.

I cut them off.

I haven’t spoken to any of them in forty years.

My family is here. This is the Corta dynasty.

Do you think that was harsh? The money; that’s nothing, none of them would ever be poor again. Do you think I was wrong to cut them off without a word, or even a thought? I could give you all the old excuses: everything is negotiable; if you don’t work you don’t breathe, the moon makes you hard. It’s true, the moon changes you. It changed me so that if I ever went back to Earth, my lungs would collapse, my legs would fold under me, my bones would flake and splinter. And those three hundred and eighty thousand kilometres count. When you talk to home and you hear that two and a half second delay before the reply comes, that pushes you away. You can never bridge that gap. It’s built into the structure of the universe. It’s physics that’s hard.

I haven’t thought about them in forty years. But I think about them now. I look back a lot; things come up from my past without my calling them. I tell myself I have no regrets, but do I?

I can’t help thinking that it was all those years putting the company together; more in a sasuit that out of one, in and out of rovers, up and down extractors, snuggling up with Carlos in that pod, the radiation shining through me …

It’s more advanced than I’ve told you, Sister. The only one who knows is Dr Macaraeg. I know Lucas went to the Motherhouse: he knows my condition but he doesn’t know its full extent. Listen to me: the euphemisms. Advanced, full extent. I can feel death, Sister, I can see its little black eyes. Sister, whatever Lucas says, whatever he threatens, don’t tell him this. He would only try and do something and there is nothing he can do. He always has to prove himself. And I’ve hurt him, oh I’ve hurt him so terribly. So much to put right. The light is running out.

But I haven’t even told you the story of the knife fight with Robert Mackenzie!

It’s legend. I’m legend. Maybe you haven’t heard it? I sometimes forget there are generations after me. Not forget – how could I forget my grandchildren? More that I can’t believe the time that has passed since those days; that people could forget them. Such days!

The Mackenzies stopped physical attacks on our materiel as soon as we had enough money to hire our own security. There was this Brazilian ex-naval officer; laid off whenever Brazil decided it couldn’t afford a navy any more. He had been in the submarines and his theory was that warfare on the moon was all submarine warfare. All vehicles under pressure, in a lethal environment. I hired him. He’s still my head of security. We decided one bold strike would end the war. We attacked Crucible. The Mackenzies and VTO had just completed Equatorial One; now Crucible could refine rare earths continuously. It was – it still is – a magnificent achievement. I forget I played a part in it, when I quit Mackenzie Metals and became a Vorontsov track queen on my way to founding Corta Hélio. Carlos conceived the plan: We shall breach Equatorial One and paralyse Crucible. I remember the faces around the table: there was shock, amazement, fear. Heitor said it can’t be done. Carlos said, It will be done. Your job is to tell me how we do it.