SEA OF SHOWERS

Daniela checked her oxy-gauge: less than 2 hours left. Even knowing rescue was only minutes away she felt an alarm verging on panic; she struggled to keep her composure, knowing as well her survival depended on her ability to keep a cool head. Bounding as fast as the minimal gravity would allow she was also breathing hard, using oxygen at an accelerating rate. It had been another 2 hours since her headset's speaker had crackled to life with the voices of her rivals signaling their good fortune at finding the first supply caches.
Now her ears were filled only with the sound of her own breathing, amplified by the airtight helmet encasing her head.

Deciding on a last ditch effort at survival she climbed a small range of jagged hills, taking pains not to rip her suit. Breaching the crest she was ecstatic--the plain before her held a yellow flag! She quickly covered the few yards to the flag, cheering herself on the whole way. After communicating her find to the others she sat beside the aluminum cache-box and comforted herself with the food and water and thought of home and the relief everyone must be feeling on her behalf. Taking a last look at the cool, blue Earth hung above the horizon she closed her eyes to sleep.

LAKE OF THE DEAD

Stevenson, having replenished his oxygen supply the night before, awoke, blinking hard in the perpetual glare. Asleep when Ms. Vlaklavik made her first discovery, Chen's small victory still burned in his brain.

"He seemed an arrogant bastard back on Earth, here he's even more unbearable," he complained. "Let the bookmakers back home pile up their bets against me, it'll be that much sweeter when I win!"
Setting his sights on a distant mountain range breaking the horizon he went to meet it.

Several hours later and low on oxygen he reached the range; among the haphazardly scattered boulders was the sought after yellow flag...and a figure crouched beneath it.

"Chen! is that you?"

The space-suited figure turned to find the source of the voice in his headset.

"You've found provisions without letting us know? You know that's against the rules," John chided facetiously.
Chen didn't respond, but stood facing Stevenson, now only a few feet away.

"What's the matter, you're not speaking to me?"

He reached past the silent Chen to retrieve an oxygen canister when suddenly he was brushed aside forcibly, losing his footing in the low gravity, his clunky moon boots kicking clumsily as he fell in the dusty rubble ringing an immense impact crater; too stunned to speak he could only stare in disbelief at the figure now looming over him, its face a featureless mask of high-impact plastic.