Mooncop has a good job, a nice little house, but very little to actually do. He zooms around in his police-ship, buys coffee and doughnuts and logs into his computer system to work on some admin. But that’s about it.
His quarterly report tells him that, with no crimes reported and none solved, he has a clean sheet – his ‘crime solution rate’ is 100%. But is his reputation enough to keep him there?
And something’s up with the lunar population – why are people leaving the colony? Has the moon lost its appeal? Mooncop begins to think that he might be better off transferring, too. But he’d miss the views, that’s for sure.
This self-reflection is typical of Gauld’s method of working with storylines that might initially seem bigger than their protagonists. His Goliath book, where the reluctant Biblical giant would rather not have to fight anyone, is a case in point.
In Gauld’s hands, even the moon, the focus for so many dreams of adventure, is really just another setting for a beautifully-observed story of daily life, its worries and frustrations.
Mooncop is a great addition to Gauld’s body of work. It revisits concerns that have become a much-loved part of his oeuvre, but isn’t afraid to let some welcome light into the vast, overwhelming darkness of space.