Eagles, Angels, and the Man in the Moon

“Lights. Reverse thrust. Touch down Tranquillity. Okay, engines stop.”

“We read you as down Taledo One. Please confirm.”

“Tranquillity Base here, Taledo One has landed; repeat, another Eagle has touched down.”

“Roger Tranquillity, we copy you on the ground. We’re cheering here. Congratulations.”

*

Thomas took a tentative sip of his strong black coffee. The words he had wanted to shout over the communicator still echoed in his ears. ‘Taledo One has landed.’ Even now, safely back on terra firma, his palms began to sweat as he remembered the landing.

Piloting the lunar module was an exact science with no room for error. Months of drilling had gone into guiding the small craft with absolute precision to the moon’s surface.

Still, it had been nearly impossible not to stare through the porthole as the lunar surface drew closer. There was truly no other way to understand how the Sea of Tranquillity was given its name than by seeing it from 1000 feet and closing.

The vast craters were smooth and flowing and the absence of wind caused the surface to appear as rippled glass. Thomas half expected to see the ground shatter from the Taledo’s thrusters as they drew nearer.

The image suddenly changed and from a closer range, the larger craters looked like ornately designed buildings in a delicately constructed cityscape. The ridges and cracks on the surface looked like roads inter-connecting an alien metropolis. The thought slipped through his mind that he had read one too many science fiction novels.

The face of the moon changed once more as the lunar module drew nearer the landing coordinates. They could see that there were literally thousands of tiny round asteroid dimples on the surface, the result of numerous tiny cosmic collisions. The moon now looked like a fragile piece of coral or sponge. It was so intricate, so perfect.

The shadows that were painted across the surface revealed more shades of black and grey than either of the two astronauts had thought to exist. Although Michael had remained fixed to his duties as Taledo One descended, he never once took his eyes from the port window. Thomas knew that his co-pilot was in as much awe as he was.

As the seconds passed and the rapid, yet steady, descent continued, Thomas could hardly contain the nervous energy that had built up inside him. It felt like a butterfly farm inside his belly. Only his disciplined training kept him from clapping his hands like an eager schoolboy who had just been told he could stay up past his bedtime to watch a late-night movie.

But this was not some cheap science fiction film. This was real. They were landing on the moon.

It wasn’t that big a story back home. Mankind had set foot on the moon more times than the Dolphins had won the Superbowl, but that didn’t make it any less special.

“Stepping off the landing. That’s it. We have returned.”

*

Thomas glanced over at Michael who sat peering out the only window in their quarantine room, watching the light rainfall on the clean-cut lawn. The pair had not really talked much since the mission, preferring to spend the time in deep, well-earned, sleep.

Orson, the third officer on the mission, had not actually landed on the moon and so his time in quarantine had ended a day earlier. This left the remaining two men with another day of scintillating contemplation.

Michael’s brows were furrowed in thought and he had hardly taken a sip of his hot tea. Thomas could never figure out what the man saw in the stuff.

He had whole-heartedly agreed that what Michael planned to say was both appropriate and inspirational. They both figured that even though they weren’t the first to step onto the moon, it was still a big deal. Their first words would still be remembered and so they should be somewhat profound.

Of course, the opportunity could not be missed to offer up something that was a little more humorous. Thomas graciously conceded when his ‘roses are red, violets maroon, look at me mom, I’m stuck on the moon,’ was politely passed over.

The landing and the historic steps were not what stirred Thomas’s mind the most. The magnitude of the achievement of everyone involved in the mission and any thought of what could have gone wrong were only flickers in the back of his mind.

Even the anxiety he felt about being released from quarantine and seeing his family paled in comparison to that which caused him to toss and turn in his sleep; that which caused him to fear for his own sanity; that which could mean the end to his career in space exploration.

*

It happened just after he stepped off the landing. Thomas walked in the opposite direction to Michael, circling the module to check for any visible structural damage. He found it hard to keep from gazing at the landscape that surrounded them. Rolling hills that formed the lips of craters were set against tall ridges that marked the edge of the Sea of Tranquillity, with the horizon nothing but a blanket of stars.

The figure stood on the crest of the nearest crater, maybe 100 feet away. Thomas passed over the darkly shrouded shape at first, the cloak it wore blending into the shades of fine sand. His eyes snapped back in an instant.

“The surface is fine and powdery,” Michael was reporting to Houston, but Thomas could not take his eyes from the being that stood motionless before him. Whatever it was, wore, as well as the long cloak, a heavy cowl that covered its head.

The cloak hung close around its body in the static atmosphere and was pulled together to cover what was worn underneath. Only two slender boots were visible from under the hem.

Thomas finally remembered to breathe but almost lost the ability once more as the alien reached up with a humanoid hand and slowly drew back the hood. Hair! Long bleached hair lay still in the windless environment and draped about the figure's shoulders.

‘Impossible!’ The thought rippled across the pool of numb shock in Thomas’s mind.

A mask hid the face and the gender of the individual but the robe parted to reveal a shiny black suit with a small flashing light of some kind on the right breast. A second look at the mask revealed two tubes running from the mouthpiece over the shoulders to disappear under the cloak.

Despite the low gravity, Thomas’s feet were fixed to the moon's surface and he doubted if he could make them move even if he had wanted to.

The masked figure remained where he stood. He made no other movement or gesture. The strangest thought abruptly materialized in Thomas’s mind. ‘He’s watching us! I’ll be damned! Why is he watching us?’

He turned to locate his partner and saw Michael bounding off in the opposite direction, still chattering away to ground control about the consistency of the soil.

“Houston I-,” started Thomas into his transmitter, turning back to the mysterious figure.

He was gone. Thomas turned in a full circle trying to catch a glimpse of the stranger descending one of the slopes toward them or perhaps walking off into the distance.

There was nothing.

“This is Houston. Go ahead Tom.”

“Oh, ah, nothing Houston. I was just testing my transmitter.”

“Well it’s working fine Tom. How are you enjoying it up there?”

“Fine, Houston. Just fine.”

Maybe it was nothing. He was in a foreign environment, wearing almost a ton of equipment and being fed oxygen through a tiny tube. Any number of things could have triggered a small hallucination.

He had been briefed on the phenomena back at the NASA academy. The combination of adrenalin and a steady flow of oxygen can cause a kind of hyperventilation resulting in mild hallucinations. There was no other explanation. None.

*

Thomas lowered his cup and glanced at the crucifix that was placed over his bed and then at the one above his partner’s. He had talked at length with the base chaplain before the launch and they had discussed how God sent angels to watch over people in dangerous situations.

At the time he passed it off as the Padre trying to give him some encouragement for the mission.

An angel? He struggled to think back to what his Sunday school lessons had taught about angels. He never remembered them being dressed in black cloaks or wearing masks.

Then again he had never actually seen an angel, nor did he know anyone who had. Still he remembered something about them having wings.

Thomas had never been an overly religious man and it seemed much easier and more comfortable to put the sighting down to a scientific explanation. He chuckled quietly into the foam cup as he raised it to his lips to take another sip.

'An angel. Good grief. Could just have easily as been the ‘Man in the Moon’.'

It was a nice thought though; a guardian angel flying along on the mission, someone to watch over them.

Thomas turned to Michael who was still staring out the window into the drizzle. Michael raised the cup to his lips to take a swig of the now cold earl grey. His brows were still furrowed and his forehead creased in thought.

“You ok, pal?” Thomas offered casually.

Michael turned and regarded his colleague with expression unchanged. After a moment he spoke.

“Do you believe in angels?”

END

Copyright 10.15.2021