One of the challenges of living on the Moon is keeping meals interesting. While most of their food still comes from Earth, they can grow some of their own. ILUB-2 has a Vegetable Production Unit or VPU. It serves three purposes: provides a fresh source of greens, analysis of growing food on the Moon, and comfort. Low gravity has odd effects on their crops. What would be grievous overwatering on Earth only makes the vegetables in their moon garden grow faster. They also introduce fertilizer into the soil more quickly and accumulate less salt.

Aula squeezes a baggie of salsa over strips of scrambled eggs, Mizuna lettuce, and onions spread over a soft tortilla shell. It's difficult. Her hands are stiff and achy. She carefully lays girders of pre-cooked chicken across the spread and rolls it like a jelly cake. When she takes her first bite, the crunch registers before the flavour. Then the spices hit. She eats slowly to savour the taste and texture.

Harvey lowers his mug to the table. "You're smiling."

She pauses, mouth opened for another bite. "What?"

"You're smiling," he says again. "It's freaking me out."

She scowls.

"Much better."

"Leave her be." Kelly grins over the rim of her own mug. "We finally get to see the softie inside the spacesuit."

Gossip is like chum in the water. Kalashnikoff perks up at the other end of the table. "Oh?"

Aula takes a particularly forceful bite of her tortilla and chews it with a thunderous expression. She feels a breeze sweep behind her. Ward drags a chair to the table and sets down a cup of tea and granola with raisins.

"Continue," she says. "I'm curious."

It takes a beat for Aula to swallow her food. "You can all stay curious."

"Come on." Kalashnikoff throws a piece of plastic bag at her, which makes a long arc in lunar gravity. "Tell us."

"No."

Kelly watches the plastic fly by. "Ah, go on."

"I was just in a good mood." Aula tugs a piece of onion out of her tortilla and eats it. "Luckily you're here to ruin it."

"Bullshit," Harvey says. "You didn't smile that much at my wedding."

"You had a cash bar."

Kalashnikoff leans back, hand over his heart. "Bozhe moy."

"Ross made me," he admits glumly. "Said we'd go broke having a free bar with half our squad there."

"Smart man." Kelly tips her mug back and finishes her coffee. "They'd all be langerated before the toast."

Ward's expression blanks. "Langerated?"

"Drunk. Three sheets to the wind, like."

Harvey smooths his sweatshirt. "I'll have you know that we conducted ourselves with dignity and restraint."

Aula gives him a deadpan look. "Now that's bullshit."

"So next morning wasn't quite so dignified," he says and scratches the tip of his nose. "It looked like we teepeed our hotel with base personnel."

Ward makes a strangled sound. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, but her dark eyes crinkle with an unmistakeable smile.

A shiver passes through the Cubby. Aula watches the surface of her coffee ripple like a pond. She can feel the ground rumbling beneath her feet. Another moonquake.

Kalashnikoff tilts his head. "Bets?"

"Oh, no. I saw what you did to Rob's wallet." Harvey holds his hands up. "I'm not falling for your Russian tricks."

"Coward."

"And richer for it."

"Take risks. Have some American optimism." Kalashnikoff hits his chest with his fist. "What is money compared to the spirit of a man, hmm?"

Harvey smiles widely. "We'll never know."

The intercom hums. Nakamura's voice echoes slightly overhead. "Everyone meet me in the command mod, please."

They exchange looks and immediately get up from the table. When they walk into the command module, everyone else is already gathered around the table with a map of the Moon set in the middle. The camera's googly eyes jiggle in tune with the quake. The TV screen is occupied by their updated weather forecast. She can see white text scrolling along the top.

"Thank you." Nakamura looks around the room. "I have been informed on the cause of our mishap."

Aula crosses her arms and shifts her weight. She can feel the others lean in around her.

"What you encountered was the June Boötids."

"The Boötids?" Kelly looks down at the map. "Sure they're slow wee things, aren't they? They only have a ZHR of one or two."

The zenith hourly rate is how many meteors someone can see in an hour of peak activity. June Boötids are thought to be the remnants of the Pons-Winnecke Comet, which orbits the sun every 6.37 years. It's not an especially grand or noteworthy meteor shower, but it does occur in late June.

Bauer sighs and rubs the back of his head. "They're known to be unpredictable. In 1998, their ZHR spiked to 100. The comet came around just last year."

"We didn't get any warning," Ward says sharply. "Nothing from Earth, no unusual signs outside."

Aula frowns and covers her mouth with a loosely clenched fist in her equivalent of the thinking man. "It looked like a single object or a small number of objects that broke apart."

"A cluster of small, faint objects above your heads and we didn't know." Ward makes a disgusted noise. "It would've burned up over Earth."

Kalashnikoff shrugs. "The Moon is dangerous. We know this."

"What about the MAF?" Aula unclenches her hand to measure the ache that pulses down her wrist. "We can't let it sit out in the open."

"In this we agree." Nakamura fixes his eye on the map where the MAF's coordinates are written and circled. "But the risk of an EVA at this time is significantly higher."

Kwan frowns into his coffee mug. "We will have very little time to plan."

Their commander looks around at them again. "Yes."

"I'll go." Aula steps forward. "I know the MAF."

"You've spent a lot of time on the surface," Ward says. "And you're still recovering."

"I'm fine. I can do it."

The moonquake keeps rumbling underneath their feet. Nakamura looks at Ward for a beat, then at her. "I understand your position, Major, but the risk is significant. You can see why an EVA would be denied."

"I'm willing to go, Commander." Aula waits for Harvey to chime in, but he stays silent. She stands up straighter. "Our operations are hamstrung without the MAF."

"Who would you ask to come with you?" Nakamura asks calmly.

"No one." She glances at the MAF's coordinates marked on the map. "It's not ideal, but it's not impossible. I can do it alone over several trips."

"We get it," Kalashnikoff says. "You're a big hero."

"Emm." Kelly raises her hand over her head. "Not that I condone going outside with a chance of meteor showers, but we wouldn't be able to make ILUB-1 without the MAF."

Nakamura nods. "We are aware, Dr. Kelly."

"We've hardly had a day without interviews. It'd be shocking bad form not to honour the anniversary."

"Unfortunately, yes. But neither I nor Earth will gamble more lives on ILUB-1."

Aula presses her lips together and exhales sharply through her nose. "We've got eyes on the sky this time. I wouldn't push the subject if I didn't think the benefits worth the risk."

Ward crosses her arms. "What happens if you're hit by a micro-meteorite, hmm?"

"A mess," Bauer mutters.

It would be like shooting jello with a shotgun, but Aula doesn't say so. Their spacesuits all sport layers upon layers of Dacron or Kevlar, but there's no guarantee against the sheer force of a meteorite. It could simply punch clean through her. She takes a moment to consider the possibility and Sophia's face abruptly pops into her mind. A swirl of guilt and resentment tightens in her chest. Relationships create a fear of loss, fear creates distraction, and distraction leads to failure, injury, and death.

"If anything happens," she says as if he didn't speak, "you still have someone who can repair and pilot the MAF."

Harvey's expression tightens. "Jesus, Al."

"It's practical." Kalashnikoff pulls his sturgeon face. "You've got balls, Major."

"None of you are considered disposable," Nakamura says without irritation, but his eyes nearly black with intensity. "If Earth consents and a viable window opens up, I will reconsider. Until then, it is out of the question."

Aula wants to argue, but she knows when to back off.