John finally crested the alabaster rim of the crater after hours of climbing under the cold sun. He was sweating and couldn’t catch his breath in the thin atmosphere. He sat down on the edge looking downward, his chest heaving.
He said at last, “All wrecked.”
He’d been hoping that the Crater Base had at least one working spacecraft left, but they were crumbled and lying across each other as if they were toys mangled by an angry child.
“I’ll never get home,” he lamented looking upward at pale stars.
Then a voice came from one of the derelicts. “Welcome.”








