I couldn’t have been prouder of the new moon buggy when we finally rolled it out for the public to see—a near perfect replica of Jonas Maquender’s ’72 Plymouth Barracuda hot rod. Headers bristled from under the fender line, the air scoop gleamed in the sun as if it had been chromed. I had always loved that car.
Naturally, the Great Man himself had come up for the unveiling. He stood beside the oversize machine in his pristine white pressure suit, the half-Earth hanging over his right shoulder. I tweaked the white balance to ensure that his trademark silver mane and Fu Manchu mustache showed up through his visor. He beamed like a schoolboy on Christmas morning—as if he’d built it himself. Of course, in a way he had.
I checked the official photos, then took a few shots for my personal collection with the old Hasselblad Mr. MaQ had let me keep from the Apollo 12 stuff we’d salvaged. A real class act, when he wanted to be. He even located a little Japanese company that still makes the film for it. It cost me the best part of a month’s pay to have the film lifted up but what else did I have to spend it on up here?
I stayed out to make a few more pictures after he went in. After shooting the hot rod from all the angles I could think of I took a few landscapes, with and without the shadow of the car stretched across the bright surface dust. It had a desolate beauty and I knew I’d never see it again once things’d finished up here.
What a wonderful tale! Such a different kind of mystery told in a unique fashion.