Kazuhiro Kenshiko entered a vast foyer cluttered with storage crates and industrial equipment, triggering its proximity sensors. A hologram switched on in response, enveloping the space around him. It cycled through a series of images juxtaposing the complex's amenities with graphic scenes from Earth.

 

Tired of choosing between annual skin grafts or hermetic bodysuits? Anti-rads or rebreathers? Insurgency or anarchy? Instead of risking it all on ailing Planet Earth, go extraterrestrial and make LunaLux your new lifestyle.

 

Finally, our new beginning, he thought.

 

A well-groomed woman approached.

 

“Serrah Suleiman, project director here at LunaLux,” she said, her face a mixture of sharp angles and austerity.

 

“Kazuhiro Ken–”

 

"Dr. Kazuhiro,” she interrupted, “as our Sustainability Engineer, your first order of business is weaning us off food shipments from Earth."

 

Kaz looked beyond Suleiman. Metallic, spider-like drones silently sorted through the supplies, locating their pre-programmed selections and carrying them down the complex's many corridors.

 

"Certainly. But I'll first need access to all the equipment and seed I ordered." Kaz bowed deferentially.

 

"Delivery drones will see to your supplies,” Suleiman responded. “Our assembly bots will take it from there.”

 

Lunalux’s aeroponics facilities proved far inferior to those at the University of Tokyo, Kaz’s bygone employer. He put in long hours reconfiguring code and fabricating essential material, which temporarily distracted him from his family and their deteriorating circumstances back on Earth. It was time well spent.

 

After a grueling first week, he and another of LunaLux’s technical leads lounged in one of the empty rec habs.

 

“So what do you make of the situation back on Earth?” asked Dinesh, the A.I. Systems Engineer. A spark of idealism lit his eyes. He sat upright and attentive, in contrast to Kaz’s slouching figure.

 

Kaz paused before responding. “East and West are opposing sides of the same unenviable coin. But only one can land on top.”

 

He stood up wearily and began pacing, unnerved by the weight of his words.

 

“All the geopolitical constructs humanity has created over the years - states, regional blocs, military alliances - have an unquenchable thirst for blood. And if history is any indicator, we will continue spilling it ad infinitum,” Kaz said, gesturing towards a nearby vidscreen.

 

“–and with the war now raging on four continents, demand for lunar resettlement has no ceiling. Making matters worse, a growing number of states have adopted nuclear first strike policies.”

 

Dinesh stood and gently grabbed Kaz’s shoulder. “Take heart, friend. With the recent U.N. decision to subsidize lunar development, we’ve been given a second chance. You and I, we are the literal architects of our shared future here at LunaLux. There's hope to be found in our labor.”

 

“I appreciate your optimism,” Kaz said, attempting a thin smile, “but until my family is here, I can take no comfort in it.”

 

Suleiman’s voice suddenly broke up their conversation.

 

"All of our 853 personal habs sold out in twenty-four hours. Organ harvesting companies made a quarter of the down payments via third party creditors. Do you understand what I’m getting at?” She stared down the two scientists until they returned to their respective tasks.

 

* * *

 

“Unfortunately, LunaLux will not open to residents until the systems integration trials are complete. There are still kinks to be ironed out,” Kaz explained to his wife.

"Yes, but how much longer?" Teary, pleading eyes pressed Kaz from his hab's vidscreen.

 

“I’m only one–”

 

"We haven't seen the sun since being moved underground twenty-three days ago,” she wailed. "They say the stratoliths’ shields are failing, and that UV exposure is too dangerous."

 

"Please, Michio, listen to the authorities. And keep Aiko sa–"

 

"Just get it done," she urged.

 

* * *

Two weeks later, Kaz sat at a console, monitoring his plants’ growth in one of the sterile-smelling greenhouses. Surrounding him were rows of prefab stalks overflowing with green soybean plants. He queried the system, which responded in nanoseconds.

 

<Trial seed batch ‘Alpha’ is now ready for consumption. At current rates of germination, soy output will sustain the colony’s 860 persons indefinitely.>

 

Kaz grinned from ear to ear and entered a command. Maintenance bots whirred into action and began harvesting the crop yield.

 

A monotone voice echoed overhead, interrupting his train of thought. “All facility personnel, please report to boardroom 23C.”

 

Kaz arrived as the other systems integration leads filtered in. He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder.

 

“Today’s the day, friend. Can’t wait to meet your family,” Dinesh whispered in Kaz’s ear.

 

“Yours as well.” Standing straighter than he had in weeks, Kaz patted the younger man on the back.

 

Everyone looked on expectantly, awaiting news of the first batch of arrivals. Suleiman stood at the head of a long table, her back facing them. She turned and slowly raised her head, revealing lines of grief, despair, and shock. When she spoke, her words were flat and lifeless.

 

“Your respective areas of expertise are needed now more than ever.” Suleiman paused momentarily. Loose strands of hair hung from her normally tight bun. “Especially since we can no longer rely on earthside assistance.”

 

No.

 

“W-what..is..going on?” someone stammered.

 

Suleiman pressed a wall console. Panels retracted, making the room an observatory to the stars above, and to a hazy orb floating prominently on the horizon. Its blue, green, and brown hues were obscured by discordant gray swirls. Teeming red specks dotted its surface, glowing ominously like pyres.

 

No, no, no! Kaz stiffened involuntarily, his arms and fingers curling inward like gnarly tree branches.

 

An unhinged chuckle escaped Suleiman. “Look around, get to know each other. We’re family for life, whether you like it or not.”