Military discipline is often a fragile thing. For several seconds the troopers stood immobile, torn between the ingrained reflexes of their training and the hard-wired drive for self-protection. One trooper, in the middle of the garage, threw down his rifle and ran out into the sunshine.

That was all it took.

The entire squad bolted like green soldiers facing enemy fire for the first time. The troopers stomped and stumbled back across the garage floor, streamed past their raging captain, and flung themselves down on the dusty regolith, raising their legs high so the sunlight could get to the soles of their boots.

I'll have you court-martialed for this!" Munasinghe raged. "Cowardice in the face of the enemy! You'll be shot! Each and every one of you!"

"Why don't you go in?" Stavenger's voice asked calmly.

Edith turned to face the captain squarely, so that her helmet-mounted camera would capture this moment in its entirety. Munasinghe was shaking, visibly shaking even with the cumbersome spacesuit enveloping him. Whether he quaked with fear or fury, Edith could not tell.

I'll show you!" Munasinghe screeched, fumbling on his equipment vest for one of his grenades. I'll show you all!"

The Norwegian lieutenant, last to leave the garage, reached a hand toward him. "Captain, wait-"

Edith watched, wide-eyed, as the lieutenant tried to calm Munasinghe. But the captain struggled free of the taller man's grasp and ran a staggering few steps to the entrance of the garage, the grenade in his gloved hand.

I'll destroy you all!" Munasinghe screamed, tugging at the grenade's firing pin.

"Don't!" the lieutenant was saying. "You can't reach the hatches from here. It's too far-"

But Munasinghe stumbled on, into the garage, and tried to throw the grenade. Encumbered by his spacesuit and the clumsy gloves, his throw went only a few yards. The grenade bumped on the garage floor, rolled once, then exploded.

The lieutenant had thrown himself down on the ground, a curiously slow, dream-like fall. Edith involuntarily ducked behind the rock face at the side of the airlock hatch. She saw a flash but heard nothing.

She looked out into the garage again. Munasinghe was still standing, turning slowly to face her. The lieutenant was clambering to his feet.

Edith saw that the front of Munasinghe's spacesuit was shredded. The man took a faltering step, then another, and pitched face-forward, slowly, slowly falling to the smooth rock floor of the garage.

The lieutenant did not hesitate for an instant. He raced into the garage, grabbed his captain's inert form under the shoulders, and dragged him outside into the sunlight.

TOUCHDOWN PLUS 1 HOUR 11 MINUTES

Edith hefted her minicam. I'll have to know."

"Hansen," he said bleakly. "Lieutenant Frederik Hansen, from Kristiansand."

"Thank you," she said.

Lieutenant Hansen looked down at the body of Captain Munasinghe, lying stiffly in his torn spacesuit on the dusty lunar ground. "What a waste," he muttered. "What a waste."

Doug stared at the display screen. "He killed himself," he whispered.