The Earth seemed smaller from up there. The Moon, once only a piece of stone, no bigger that 3.474 kilometers, a dusty ball, a mere crumb in the teeth of the Gods, a tenth of the Earth’s surface, was now his home. He was The Lord of the World … The Lord of the Moon. The building that bore the pictogram of the Chinese lunar program, a half circle with two lines crossing it, like two footprints in its midst, was hardly visible from the lunar dust. The regolith gets everywhere, transforming any tiny part of technology in a lunar object.
There, near the North Pole of the Moon, on the margins of the huge ice deposits at the bottom of the Rajdestvenski basin, there was the most complex construction outside the Earth. The only functional spacial construction after the abandoning of the planetary station, MIR. At minus 250 degrees Celsius the crater was turned into a space laboratory. Huge mechanisms that were sorting regolith, extracting hydrogen from the Moon’s dust, were producing the so much coveted energy for a planet hungry for fuel. The two adjacent craters, Hermit and Plaskett were shelters for huge hydrogen processing plants. And all these machines were working now only for him and the 12 humans residing in the lunar complex.









