“. . . in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.”  Father Adam made the sign of the cross in the blessing of his congregation.  Closing his eyes, he thanked the Lord for yet one more mass celebrated, as had been his custom since his very first one when he ‘soloed’ under elderly Father McGuiness.

 Good Lord, he’d picked up yet another bit of slang from the flyers.  He murmured his thank you’s to those of his congregation who stopped to compliment him on his sermon on this third Sunday of Lent.  They’d all left for the dining hall when he realized that two remained.  He girded himself for a critique even though Ruth nor Joe had never said a cross word to him.  He just kept expecting one.

 She stood finally, her faithful shadow at her side and made her way through the folding chairs to his make shift altar.  “Very good, Father Adam.  The story of the Samaritan woman is rarely told these days.  Thought provoking but kind.  If only the rest of the world believed in kindness.”

 He was so taken aback that he almost stuttered.  “Th-thank you.  I try my best to show God’s love in all of what we think and do.”

 That silver eye crinkled above her faint smile.  Now that he had a good look at her, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed before how translucent her skin had become.  “Your best is just what we need.  I was hoping that after three months here, you might be persuaded to stay for the rest of your six month enlistment.  Would you be willing?”

 He felt his breath catch and he shook his head before he even stopped to think.  “It would be better if another came.  I don’t think I’m what you want up here at all.”

 “Perhaps.  But have you ever thought that you are who we need here at this pivotal time.”  She almost-touched his arm briefly.  “Think on it, please.  If you truly don’t think you can remain, your Bishop will concede.  Cardinal Ramirez has assured me of that.”  Ruth turned and rejoined Joe to leave the meeting hall.

 His eyes widened and he stared after her in shock.  Adam couldn’t believe that she’d gone over Bishop Fogerty’s head – to ask for him.  He wondered why in the world she wanted him to remain.  He thought over the last few months of building and teaching while he placed the altarpieces in their handmade box.  Ruth had appointed him to the governing committee and he spent most of those meetings questioning some, if not all of their decisions.

 Adam couldn’t believe that his squeaking wheel was that valuable to the governing process.  Getting a good grip on the small chest, he lifted it and carried it down the hall to his room.  Maneuvering around the door that had finally been installed last week, he carried it in and placed it on the table near the couch.  Gunnie had moved out and down the new spoke they’d just finished for their small fleet and his room would soon house Rabbi Greenwood.

 He was looking forward to having another clergyman near by.  He stopped dead with his hands on the chest.  ‘Looking forward’ implied that he wanted to stay and he didn’t.  Did he?  It was the most annoying process of questions that he kept going through in his own mind.  One moment he looked forward to his next class of youngsters and the next he was disapproving of some new venture that Ruth was proposing.

 Although, if he thought about it, she really hadn’t been suggesting much lately.  The others were coming up with most of the new schemes.  She mostly sat and listened to them argue back and forth until some consensus had been reached before rewording the proposal so everyone could agree to at least try it.  It reminded him of Father McGuiness and his internship in Akron, Ohio.  Life would have been so much more uncomplicated if he’d just stayed there.

 Sighing, he went to his room to hang up his vestments and decided to think instead about the security briefing scheduled for ten o’clock.  Martin Hewitt had gone through the base with a fine toothed comb and he was going to present his final report to them today.  Once he’d brushed his hair, he headed for the dining hall to see if any breakfast was left.  He didn’t like to eat before Mass and afterwards he was usually ravenous.

 Mary Two Feathers was still working and she beamed at him while motioning him to come to her end of the serving line.  From under the counter she whisked out a plate filled to the brim with his favorites.  “I knew you would be hungry, Father Adam, so I saved you some breakfast.”

 “You are too kind, Mary.  I was sure that the cinnamon rolls would be long gone before I could get here.”  He gathered some utensils and a cloth napkin before reaching for the cup of faintly steaming coffee that she’d just poured for him.  “Thank you again.”

 “Go on with you, Father.  Eat up while it’s still hot.”  She dismissed him with a kindly wave and he sat down at the first table he found with an empty chair.

 Running Elk and Penelope Hamilton were arguing again about some mythological tale while Sam sat beside his grandmother and tried to hide his grin.  Adam mused on the odd dynamics of the whole Hamilton family.  They seemed to take in strays of all kinds.  Even after he gathered the courage to speak to Sam about his . . . even in his thoughts he didn’t know what to call the young doctor’s relationship to Colonel Griffin . . . he’d come up against Sam’s warm and loving nature.

 He’d listened to Adam’s halting concerns with a serious air.  Then he’d firmly but respectfully told him that while he would bow to him in matters of religion, he could not in all honesty take his opinions about love seriously.  And then he’d told him that he hoped that wouldn’t prejudice him against the Colonel as base commander.  Adam had been too taken aback to respond with anything but a stammered disclaimer.  Their subsequent meetings had been as friendly as if they’d never spoken of the forbidden passions.

 The Hamiltons were truly an amazing family, he thought.  He’d finally admitted to himself that he preferred their loving relationship to some of the dysfunctional families he’d counseled on Earth, even if parts of their family were on the eccentric side.  They were the closest he’d come to his own family.  He still got a letter from his mother once a week and it was filled with homey tidbits of news that made him homesick for a few moments after each reading.

 “Father Adam, are you going to the security briefing?”  Sam asked him while refilling his coffee cup.

 He’d been so busy with his thoughts that he hadn’t even seen him get up to get the pot.  “Why yes, I believe I should.  Mr. Hewitt sounded rather solemn when he spoke with Colonel Griffin.”

 Sam’s jaw suddenly went as tight as his brother’s did on a regular basis.  “Solemn is an understatement from what I’ve heard so far.  Jane called up this morning while you were giving Mass and told us of a possible biological hazard that may be a problem.”

 Adam held his coffee cup half way to his mouth while the implications of that threat shivered through him.  “Then I will certainly go to the meeting.”

 “Good, Ruth values your input.  You’ve got another fifteen minutes before the meeting.  I’ll see you there.”  Sam nodded and took the coffeepot back to Mary.

 He drank his coffee and relived the terrifying picture of dying men, women and children.  One of his most horrifying memories was of the six-month tour of duty he’d had in Africa after he became a military chaplain.  He and the rest of his team had entered a small village that had been flooded during the rainy season.  The buzzing of flies had been their first clue and the sweet smell of decaying flesh their second.

 Everyone was dead or in the process of dying with cholera.  The team medic had treated those he still could but they’d been too far-gone to save.  Adam had helped dig the mass grave, carry the twenty-two bodies to the deep pit and given them his best prayers to guide them to heaven.  One of the huts had a crude cross hanging on one wall so he’d been comforted by the fact that Christianity had at least been known by the villagers.

 For months, bloated bodies and buzzing flies had invaded his dreams.  Shaking himself free of the terrible memories, Adam looked up at the chattering crowd around him.  Dakota was running across the floor to her grandmother, holding something tight clenched in her little hand.

 “Shima, see what Doctor Sam gave me.”  The little girl held up her hand and opened it slowly.  “It’s the house where the butterfly lived.”

 “Oh my, what a beautiful green cocoon.  Have you seen the butterfly yet?”  Mary Two Feathers knelt beside her granddaughter to take a proper look.

 He watched them and his mind once again flashed back to the dying village.  Seared into his mind was the memory of the bodies of an older black woman curled protectively around a young girl, united in death.  Coming back to the present, he made a firm resolve to prevent that from ever happening again.  Rising, he carried his empty plate and silverware over to the side counter.  Taking a moment to admire the tightly woven cocoon that Dakota held up for him, he thought about using it for his next sermon.

 Pondering the analogy of cocoons and the Resurrection, he walked back to the command center’s meeting room.  Nodding to Jerry Saguaro who was manning the communications board, he entered and took a seat at the far end of the black table.  Not for the first time, he marveled at the dexterity of the Ikiiri engineers who had fashioned the table out of lunar rock so that it grew out of the floor like a mushroom.  It could never be moved but then it didn’t need to be.

 The standard issue folding chairs were hard but they never stayed very long in them anyway.  The participants of these sessions were prone to getting up and pacing while gesticulating their main points with out-flung arms and hands.  Sometimes Adam felt like a mere spectator but then someone would bring him in and he would have to add his two cents of opinion.
 
 “Thank you all for coming.”  Ruth’s voice broke into his reverie.  She was seated at the opposite end with the investigator at one side and Colonel Griffin on her other.  “Martin Hewitt has his report ready for us and our friends on Earth, Jane Hyde and David Elliot, also have news for us.  Martin, if you would begin.”

 Adam listened intently while he went over ways to tighten their security.  The main problem was their dependence on Earth for food, water and the very air that they breathed.  That wasn’t news to them but some of his suggestions were.  He knew of a small company who was pioneering a solar smelter.  Their own engineers had told them that the lunar rocks were comprised of upwards of 40% oxygen.  If they could smelter out the oxygen while separating out the titanium and magnesium, they’d have something to sell and something to breathe at one shot.

 Regani, the Ikiiri engineer, spoke up at that suggestion.  He went over the benefits of being able to set up the factory needed to fashion human built ships with the raw materials of the Moon.  Dr. David Longer, the elderly geologist from the University of California at Sacramento, spoke up at length.  Ruth gently broke into the scientific discussion and appointed a subcommittee to look into the subject before deftly handing the floor back to Mr. Hewitt.

 He smiled down at her and proceeded to list some of the security measures needed to keep the base and all her inhabitants safe.  Adam listened intently, making mental notes about how he could help.  Once again he caught himself considering a stay here when that was not what he wanted to do.  Always before he’d prayed for his answers but the last two months of prayer had not brought forth the solution to his problem.

 And his main problem sat quietly at the other end of the table.  Just beyond her sat Joe, his still figure poised to come or go depending on her request.  The near idolatrous regard that some of the inhabitants had for Ruth made him cringe.  The fact that she worshipped a goddess instead of the Lord made him uncomfortable.  But she did no proselytizing that he could discover and he’d found himself watching her extremely closely.

 In fact, he blushed to admit that he’d come very close to inappropriate behavior in his surveillance.  Everyone deserved privacy and he had almost violated hers with his need to catch her in some transgression.  That there had been none to this point he viewed with the skepticism that he traced right back to Father O’Connell and his seminary days.  He couldn’t see why the others just accepted her and that inability kept him here when he’d really rather be back on Earth pursing a normal congregation with normal problems.

 “Then we are agreed that we’ll cease mixing passengers and cargo.  Even their luggage will travel later and be checked in a vacuum in case there is a physical problem.”  Colonel Griffin glanced around the table and counted nods.  “Good.  That however, brings us to a possible problem that may have ramifications here on the Moon.”  He raised his voice.  “Jane, are you still with us?”

 “Yes, I am, Seth.  David is with me and another reporter named Palmer White who has been invaluable in pursuing an odd string of circumstances that may . . . and I can not stress this strongly enough . . . may mean a special kind of threat for the colony.”

 “Understood, Jane.  Just tell us the circumstances and we’ll go on from there.”  Ruth spoke quietly and every one settled back to listen to the story.

 Adam listened to the unfolding story painted so colorfully for him by the three reporters.  Mentally, he added Grace’s name to his list of lost souls who needed praying for.  But when he heard of the Morris Institute experiments in the Fifties and their use of the cholera bacterium, he felt revulsion sweep over him like a wave.  For a moment he heard nothing but the sound of shovels digging that mass grave in Africa.

 When he came back to the conference room, he heard an unfamiliar voice speaking.  The quaver of old age was there as well as a slightly pedantic tone.

 “We get together every couple of months to play chess.  So when I called up Nate and requested a tour of his current facility so I could show it off to my colleague, David, he agreed immediately.  He doesn’t do much research any more because he refuses to use a computer.  The young Turks on his staff do most of it these days and the head of the Institute is young Wayne Hall.”  A chuckle sounded across the mike.  “Well, he’s not all that young anymore, about fifty, I guess.  He showed us through the laboratories and introduced us to some of their researchers.”

 “What kind of experiments are they currently running?”  Sam spoke up.

 “Genetics mostly, Sam, plus some research into vaccines that could be mass produced at a low cost for some of the emerging countries where some diseases are still pandemic.”  David Elliot’s voice came through loud and clear.

 “The piece de resistance of the lab is a long running experiment on tuberculosis which is making a resurgence in India and China.  They are trying to come up with a vaccine better than BCG.”  Palmer’s voice came through again.  “But what struck all of us, I believe I speak for the others, were the live cultures of some of the most serious diseases known to mankind.  They keep them in secure storage but all of their researchers had access to them, including the recently deceased Dr. Hinckle.”

 An appalled silence fell over the conference room.  Adam felt a shiver go up his spine at the thought of having to work with live bacterium that could kill you.  His eyes swept the table and he saw the same looks of dread that he knew must be on his own.

 “So, it is possible that Dr. Hinckle, in the belief that he was helping his country, may have extracted a living culture of some unknown disease and turned it over to the supposed government agent?”  Ruth’s voice was steady even though her skin had gone even whiter than usual.

 “Yes.  I’m afraid that is exactly what we’re saying.”  David’s voice said apologetically.  “We have no proof but the suspicion was serious enough to pass on to you.”

 “Thank you, David.  And Mr. White, we thank you for your expertise and willingness to help.”  Ruth leaned forward, spreading her hands before her on the table and looking at them as if she’d never seen then before.

 “Nonsense, Ruth, it was a pleasure to go sniffing out a story again.  One of these days, I’d like to come for a visit to your remarkable colony.”  The gruff voice brought a faint smile to her lips.

 “You will be most assuredly welcome, Palmer.  Give us another month or so and you can expect your invitation.  For the moment, we need to mull over what you have found.  David, would you and Jane mind e-mailing your research to us?”

 “No problem, Ruth.  We’ll do it now and give you a chance to digest it.  If you have questions, we’ll try and answer them.  And we’ll keep on digging.”

 “Be very careful, all of you.  These appear to be ruthless people who will stop at nothing.”  Ruth sat back, her eye staring beyond the walls of the room.

 “That goes double for all of you.  Take care.”

 The click told them that the connection had been closed.  Adam looked around the table and found the same fear on each face that he knew was on his own.  He swallowed hard and tried to think of something uplifting to say.

 “How do you fight a microbe you can’t see coming at you?”  Running Elk murmured into the silence.

 “How indeed?”  Sam leaned forward, running his gaze over the others in the room.  “We can expose the tubercle bacilli to vacuum which will kill it because it needs oxygen to live.  Antibiotics have been effective against some of the plagues.  The best way to fight against a biological attack is to not let it up here in the first place.  But there is always something that can be done against even the most virulent of diseases.”

 The others began to come out of their shocked silence and soon the conversation began to take on a more hopeful note.  Adam sat back and watched Ruth at the other end while she guided the discussion with questions that lead them to a consensus.  The only other person he’d ever known who could do that was Father McGuiness and as a young man he’d watched the elderly priest bring unity to a squabbling parish.  Using humor and faith in God, he’d brought peace to the families who lived within his reach.

 Lately, Adam had been at war with the two opposing sides of his nature which he’d taken to calling Father O’Connell and Father McGuiness.  The stern theological side who knew that answers were absolute with no shades of gray in any way shape or form could be traced directly to the seminary.  But the caring side who knew that people came in all shapes and conditions told him to relax and make the most of the amazing world he found himself in.

 It was time to make a decision about his life.  He could leave and return to Earth to continue his ministry wherever the Church chose to send him.  Retreat to normality and the ‘real’ world of ministering to rich and poor, young and old without an alien in sight.

 Or a woman who confused him with a kaleidoscope of inappropriate emotions.

 He watched some of the group get up and form new clusters of conversation before moving from the conference room.  Colonel Griffin was still frowning at something Martin Hewitt said while Sam stood behind him and gave him a neck massage to loosen tight muscles.  Joe had come forward to stand at Ruth’s shoulder and Adam met his inquiring gaze with a slight smile.

 For the first time since he’d awakened from a dream of fantasy, Adam knew that he was where he needed to be, helping the people he needed to help and learning the lessons that Father McGuiness had tried so hard to teach him.  Accepting people for who they were and not for what they thought.  Seeing the humanity of an eight foot tall alien who liked vegetable lasagna and a woman who might . . . or might not be the avatar of a planet.

 Adam decided to call the retired priest as soon as he could.  They’d stayed in touch over the years and the good Father was currently retired in Florida, running the weekly bingo game in his retirement village.  Smiling to himself, he looked up to find the five at the other end of the table all gazing at him.

 “Ruth, I’ve changed my mind.  If you still want me here, I’d like to stay.”

 She blinked and cocked her head to one side.  “Yes, we still want you.  May I ask why?”

 Adam pushed back his chair and walked around the twenty foot oval table to her end.  “I just remembered something my favorite mentor told me once a lifetime ago.  Father McGuiness reminded me that without sinners the Church would be out of business and priests might actually have to go to work for a living.”

 Joe chuckled and a smile replaced the frown on the Colonel’s face.

 “He also told me that on the very worst day of my life, God would still be there for me, as He will be here for this colony in the event of the unthinkable.  I’d prefer to be part of the solution rather than one of the problems.”  Adam said with a shrug.

 Ruth stood up and crossed to his side.  Holding out her hand, she gripped his while standing on tiptoe to brush dry lips across his cheek.  “Thank God.  If we are to succeed, we need all the prayers we can get, Father Adam.  That ‘worst day’ is approaching faster than I had hoped.”

 “Together, we are stronger than we are separately.  Someone very wise told me that once.”  Adam held her cold hand firmly and tried to ignore the softness of her lips.

 “Very wise indeed, Father.”  Colonel Griffin stood and rolled his shoulders.  “I expect we need to implement some of these changes today instead of waiting until tomorrow.  Martin, would you take charge of the Earth end of this security nightmare?”

 “Wouldn’t miss it.”  The dark haired man shook hands with his new employer, brown eyes gleaming.  “You have one of the best computer hackers in the world.  I think together, we can find these guys and put them out of business.  At the very least, we can prevent them from hurting the new Moonies.”

 Sam groaned.  “No, absolutely not.  I refuse to be a moonie.  We have got to come up with a better name for ourselves.”

 “Moonisians?  Mooners?”  Father Adam said innocently.

 Groans filled the room and he found himself following the others out into the command center.  Joe walked by his side and he tugged on Adam’s elbow to slow him.

 “Thank you, Father Adam.  It means a lot to her, your staying.  She never wanted to throw out the old traditions and replace them with the worship of Ruth, as some of the youngsters wanted.  I think she’d talk with you the way she can’t talk to some of us.  Share some of the burdens that she thinks she must carry alone.  If you were willing?”  The faded blue eyes searched his and Adam felt a frisson up his spine.

 “I would be honored.”  And for the first time, he meant it.

 “She usually ends the day in the observation dome down past the water storage.  It’s quiet there and she can watch the stars.  Sometimes I go with her but usually she goes alone.”  His eyes asked a question of his and Adam found himself nodding, agreeing to he wasn’t sure what.

*****************

 Ten hours later, he stretched and headed for the dining hall for a cup of tea.  Joe was ahead of him and he’d just finished pouring hot water into a gently steaming teapot.  “Father, if you wouldn’t mind taking this down to Ruth, I’d make sure that there were two cups?”

 “You’ve got a deal, Joe.  It smells good.  What kind is it?”

 “Spearmint and valerian.  It will help you sleep without dreams.”

 Adam shivered but nodded, his smile firmly in place.  Joe fitted a tea cozy around the pot and placed two cups by it.  The priest lifted the teak tray and headed for the far end of the base.  Silence echoed eerily through the dimly lit halls.  His shoes squeaked faintly as he passed the massive tanks of glacier fresh water.  Even though it was late, the base usually had third shift crew about but not down here.

 Suddenly, he felt as if the entire weight of the moon rested on the fragile tunnel through which he walked.  Pausing, he overcame the slight vertigo and wondered if the gravity-cyclers were defective this far away from the living chambers.  But nothing else happened so he shrugged and continued on.  After another hundred feet, he entered the observation dome where they held the astronomy classes behind a triple thickness of something the Ikiiri called glass.

 Ruth stood before the large windows that were all that stood between her and the vacuum of space.  She didn’t turn at his entrance but he heard the smile in her voice. “I see that Joe had a heart to heart with you.”

 “He just didn’t want to walk all this way with a heavy tray.”  Adam smiled and set it down on the table.  Removing the tea cozy, he poured two cups of the fragrant tea and moved to the still figure.

 She accepted her cup with a murmur of thanks, taking a sip and holding the cup between her hands.  “If I’m not a Catholic and I tell you something, are you still bound by the tenets of the Confessional?”

 “Yes.”  Adam drank some of the tea, wondering what she would say next.

 “Death is coming.  All the plans in the world won’t stop it.”  She drank more tea.  “I can prevent it from killing anyone else but a price will be paid.  Part of me craves the release from pain that dying will bring.  I am so very tired of being strong, Adam.”

 Her pained words froze his heart.  His eyes focused on the lines that laced her face with fatigue.  “Is there anyway around this death?”

 “No, I don’t think so.  The price of this colony has always been my life.”  She took another sip of tea, swallowing slowly.  “I wanted more time to plan.  More time to enjoy the new discoveries we’re making about geology, science and astronomy.  I wanted to watch the little ones grown up along side of young Ikiiri.  To watch while Peter breaks yet another speed record with his ship.  I really wanted to be there to see who wins the latest argument between Penelope and Running Elk.  To hold Lenora’s child and welcome the first baby to the Moon.”

 Adam swallowed the lump in his throat with difficulty.  Her wistful tones sounded so final.  “You might be wrong.  We may be able to overcome this threat.”

 She smiled up at him and he watched her gather the strength to tell him a comforting lie.  Shaking his head, he slid his right arm around her thin shoulders.  Leaning into his side, she sighed once while he wept the tears she wouldn’t allow herself to shed.

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End of chapter 31