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lunar settlements. Funded with the combined economic power of the EU, Japan, India, and Australia, it was a monumental undertaking. It was the only colony that was trying to dome over an entire crater, albeit only five kilometers across.
    Dozens of inflatables spread out from the rim in the four cardinal directions, each quadrant representing a sovereign territory, but connected with underground corridors to the crater itself. Almost a thousand workers had been sent up already, and the translucent membrane that would become the cover of the central dome was en route within a week.
    A thin lattice of composite girders had risen from the dome’s foundation on the rim, arching toward the center. The structural load had been carefully calculated so that the frame would hold itself once completed, but after the crater was sealed, the weight of the dome’s skin would be suspended on the air pressure inside. For now, several long, temporary columns held the partially completed frame. Other than the single spire in the center, which would be built much later, the entire bowl would eventually be terraformed and planted. Once it was finished, it would be beautiful and practical, even if the construction schedule was tight to get it completed before Antu arrived.
    Crews crawled over the lattice, securing beams in place with polymer adhesive, extending the eighteenth tier up another layer. Benjamin Fukazawa flew a skycrane, a stripped-down Japanese copy of Stormhaven’s mini, hauling components into position. His team, two Aussies and a Brit, stood a thousand meters above the crater floor as he maneuvered a beam toward their next connection. They each wore an MMU in case of an accident, but otherwise used their sense of balance to keep their footing.
    “Bring it down two,” Calvin Grady said. The team lead always called the position to the skycrane. “Slow. Now forward six.” He gave his instructions with precision, working to get the beam into place.
    “What the hell you doin’ Fuka,” Grady barked. “Back off a bit, you heavy-handed oaf. You damn near clubbed us off.”
    Ben looked at his controls. He was precisely stationary. He could see the cable holding the piece below him showed no motion. But it did look like the team was swinging back and forth slowly. “It’s not me,” he said. “Look at the other teams. They’re all dancing out there.” He was watching several men, further around the latticework, arms flailing as they tried to keep their balance. One of them dropped off the side of his perch, catching himself on his MMU and swooping away from the structure and out into the open space in the center.
    It only took Fukazawa a second to realize what was happening. He’d been a kid when the Tokyo Quake had leveled a hundred high-rises. He’d seen video showing how the buildings had swayed visibly before they started crumbling in on themselves. “Get off the grid,” he hollered onto the open channel. “It’s a quake!”
    Several dozen men shot up into the sky in the same instant that the eighteenth tier started collapsing. It twisted inward in slow motion, tearing pieces and chunks out of the seventeenth tier as it went. Parts of the sixteenth followed it downward.
    Glancing around, he watched the sections zippering toward the crater floor. The teams, all equipped with MMU’s, hung at various altitudes above the collapsing structure. He watched the pieces tumbling downward, not realizing for several seconds that the material crib was located below them. There were more than a hundred workers down there waiting to hook up the next loads.
    “Oh shit!” he roared, snapping his skycrane over and chasing the falling debris. He felt the sickening realization that there was nothing he could do before the beams hit bottom, but at least he’d be on the ground to rescue anyone fortunate enough to still be alive.
    ***
     
    Sentinel Colony:
     
    The sandstorm lasted for several minutes, ending with what sounded like