Moon of Mutiny
Lester del Rey
HOLT, RiNEHART AND WINSTON
New York
Copyright (c) 1961 by Lester del Rey
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
Published simultaneously in Canada by Holt, Rinehart and Winston of Canada, Limited.
First Edition
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 61-14968
91804-0111
Printed in the United States of America
To Paul Waterman
Contents
page
Mysteries of the Moon
11
1. Emergency Action
16
2. Washed Out
27
3. Return to Space
39
4. Last Chance
50
5. Unwelcome Guest
61
6. Lunar Colony
73
7. World of Death
85
8. Dust Trap
96
9. Rock Slide
107
10. Pariah
118
11. Signs of Life
129
12. Trouble Trail
140
13. SOS from Space
151
14. Mutiny
163
15. Crack-up
174
16. False Hopes
185
17. Zi/e w Death
197
18. Judgment
208
Moon of Mutiny
Mysteries of the Moon
nobody knows today whether or not there is life on the Moon. A few years ago, it was thought to be a dead, frozen world where nothing could ever change, but now astronomers report evidence of what may be volcanic activity which releases traces of gas over the surface. Something is certainly happening on the supposedly dead world.
There have also been sightings of a strange color change that spreads in some craters during the long lunar day. This change may be caused by odd chemical or crystal behavior, but it looks more like the growth of some kind of plant—a plant that can live with almost no air or water, at temperatures far too high and too low for any life we know.
The strange world that lies less than a quarter million miles away from us seems to grow more mysterious all the time.
Partly because of the mysteries there, we can be sure
that there will be life on the Moon before too many years
have passed; it will be human life from Earth. We have
a great many questions about our sister world in space,
and we need the answers to understand many things
i
about Earth itself. Since we cannot find what the answers are without going to the Moon, we will surely go —and sooner than many people believe.
The mystery of life there is only one of many puzzles, though it is a very important one. If there are plants, they must be very different from Earth plants. By studying such differences, we may learn much about all life; perhaps we may even find ways to adapt Earth plants for life on the Moon, and thus make colonizing our big satellite much easier.
We don't entirely understand the craters we see on the surface; they are everywhere, tiny ones and others more than fifty miles across. Once we thought that they were caused by volcanic eruptions, and many English astronomers still believe this. The new signs of some kind of activity there add a little evidence to this theory, but men who have studied Earth volcanoes are doubtful that the craters on the Moon could be caused by lava flow.
Most American astronomers think the craters were caused by huge meteorites falling from space. Pebbles dropped into a pan of flour produce craters similar to those seen on the Moon. But it seems hard to believe that there were once enough huge meteorites in space to produce all those craters—and if there were, the Earth should have been hit much more often than it was. There are other difficulties with the meteorite theory, too. Perhaps the craters were caused by something entirely unlike what we can guess from Earth; only exploration of them will tell us.
Then there are great rays or linear markings on the Moon. We can see them stretching in straight lines for hundreds of miles, brilliant and white. They may have been formed by matter thrown upward in a meteorite collision or from an erupting volcano. If so, they might travel in straight lines, but why so much farther than the other material thrown off? Perhaps they are great cracks in the surface, filled with dust—although that doesn't explain why they are so straight. Is it possible that they and the so-called canals of Mars are related phenomena?
In some of the craters, we have seen what looks like mist. It must be very thin and faint, but it is still much more than we could expect, since the Moon is almost without air. Is there a trace of water in some of the craters? Or is gas seeping up from somewhere inside the Moon?
The Moon has an albedo—an ability to reflect sunlight—that is much greater than we expect from anything so rough and pitted. We can only guess why. It may be due to gypsum on the surface. This is a light, white substance like plaster of paris, and it holds water in a loose chemical bond. If there is gypsum, the water can be baked from it and then broken down by electricity to give us oxygen. On the other hand, many things look white when finely powdered—for example, transparent ice becomes white when pulverized. The Moon simply may be covered with a layer of fine dust, worn from the rocks by temperature changes.
We don't know what minerals and ores we may find. The Moon is a very light world, much less dense than Earth, and it must have far less of the heavy metals. Yet more of them might lie on the surface. One theory is that all heavy elements should be found only at the core of a planet; but the pull of the Moon, which causes the tides on Earth, may have stirred up Earth's core enough to bring the heavy metals to the surface. If so, the stronger pull of Earth on the Moon may have dragged up more of the heavy elements from the center of that little world.
We still know little of the far side of the Moon. Since the Moon always turns the same side to us as it revolves around the Earth, the opposite side will never be seen from Earth. Russian photographs of that side show us a few details, and add to the mystery. Why should there be so few craters on the other side, when the side we know is riddled with pits? Almost certainly, this hidden side (not the "dark side," since it is lighted when the near side is dark) is not too different from what we see. But there may be highly surprising puzzles there. We'll probably explore the familiar side first, since it still has so many unsolved mysteries. It should also be easier to plan an expedition to this side.
Nobody expects riches from either side, of course. Earth will never use the metals from the Moon; the cost of transporting to Earth even the most precious metals would always be prohibitive. But if men find metals near the surface of the Moon, many things might be learned about the formation of our own planet. Perhaps, too, from such knowledge we would be able to locate ores more easily on Earth. Also, having metals on the Moon would make the establishing of a colony there easier, since it would enable men to manufacture much of what would be needed from local sources.
The biggest question of all, of course, is whether we can ever maintain a lunar colony. The difficulties are tremendous, but such a colony would help space travel
Mysteries of the Moon 15
more than anything else, since it would stimulate the development and improvement of spaceships. The planets will be much easier to reach if we can first practice traveling back and forth to our sister world.
It is quite properly a sister world, too. Most satellites are only tiny things compared to the size of the primary around which they revolve, but the Moo
n has a diameter more than one-quarter that of Earth, making the two bodies seem almost like twin planets.
One visit can never answer all our questions. There will be many explorations, and some will perhaps be easier because of a colony that may be permanently based on the Moon. Perhaps there will be young men exploring and living on the Moon within our own lifetime —men like Fred Halpern.
—L. del R.
Chapter I Emergency Action
as fred halpern trotted onto the rocket field, the sun was setting. Long shadows lanced from the little high-jump ships toward the east, where the pale Moon was already visible. It should have been a beautiful sight to a rocketman, but Fred scarcely noticed it. Instead, he glanced in worry at the watch strapped outside his suit and quickened his pace. The spacesuit jounced awkwardly on his lean, medium-height body; under his helmet, his black hair was plastered down by perspiration, and there was a frown on his thin face.
This was Elimination Week at Goddard Space Academy, and it was no time to be late for an assignment. Normally, the delay while he replaced a cracked helmet might be enough excuse, but not this week. Out of sixty cadets in the class, at least forty were to be washed out. The Academy instructors were deliberately trying every trick they could imagine to make the students fail. Only the ones who couldn't be eliminated were considered good enough to graduate into careers in space.
The minute hand was almost touching the hour mark as Fred pounded up to the little ship assigned to him. Beside the ship, an instructor stood waiting, also study-
16
ing a watch. The man's slow nod assured Fred that he wasn't late, and he began to breathe more easily as he halted and came to salute. Then, at the sight of the face under the raised helmet visor, he stiffened again.
"Well, well. So I draw the Moon-boy?" Major Wick-man's voice seemed contemptuously amused. He was tall and heavily built for a pilot, with a round face that could be attractive when he smiled. He wasn't smiling now; his blond mustache was lifted in a faint sneer. "Haven't they washed you out yet, Moon-boy?"
"No, sir," Fred told him carefully, straggling to keep the anger from his voice.
Wickman grinned. "Then we'll have to do something about that sorry situation. All right, Mr. Halpern, get on board! We can't wait for your reporter friends this time."
Fred felt his face reddening, and turned hastily to the little ladder leading up to the ship's entrance. The painful part of what Wickman had said was that there was some truth in it.
Four years before, Fred Halpern had made a complete fool of himself, as he realized now. He had managed to take off from the Space Station in a small rocket-ship and reach the Moon before anyone else landed there. As a result, the real Moon expedition was forced to take off ahead of schedule to rescue him, at the cost of one man's life. It had been a completely foolish stunt, but it made wonderful newspaper copy, turning him into something of a hero on Earth. Even now, the reporters considered him a good news subject. When he'd been disciplined by Wickman for breaking a minor rule of the Academy, the reporters had made him a martyr and pictured Wickman as a bullying martinet. Apparently, the instructor still resented it bitterly.
Silently they drew up the ladder and dogged the little entry port shut. Fred dropped into the student seat in the tiny cabin, staring out through the portholes, while Wickman opened the envelope containing instructions, glanced through them, and passed one sheet to Fred.
Surprisingly, the assignment looked like a routine one. The little high-jump ships were powered with a new fuel that permitted them to take off and rise into close orbit around the Earth without the booster stages. This seemed to be just such a single maneuver; they were to climb three hundred miles above the surface, swing into orbit, circle the Earth once, and land back on the field, braking down on the stubby wings of the ship. It was too simple, Fred thought; something must be arranged to go wrong somewhere to offer a tougher test of his ability. But he could find no evidence of it in his instructions.
"Worried, Moon-boy?" Wickman asked. When Fred made no answer, his voice sharpened. "I asked you a question, Mr. Halpernl"
"Sorry, sir. No, I'm not worried."
"That's right. I keep forgetting you're a hero." Wickman chuckled softly. "You never worry, of course. But maybe you should this time."
Fred felt himself tightening, then forced himself to relax. Wickman might be trying to make him nervous and force him to react badly to the emergency that must be planned somewhere on this flight. He noticed the instructor hadn't turned on the little recorder that kept a record of everything during the flight until after he finished speaking. It was against the rules for an instructor to act in such a manner, of course, but Fred could never prove it afterward.
He checked off his figures on the small course computer that lay between the two control panels, and the results confirmed what he had known already. He seemed to have a gift for analyzing orbits accurately in his head, but this time he needed the reassurance of the computer. Then he began checking the ship, studying his dials as the readings came in.
When he finished, Wickman moved the large selector lever between the controls from "Instructor" to "Student." The little ships were designed to operate from either of two sets of independent controls, and all the dials read in duplicate. This setting placed full control of the ship in Fred's circuit.
"Take over, Mr. Halpern!" Wickman ordered.
"Taking over, sir," Fred acknowledged. He flipped on the radio and reached for the microphone. "Flight thirteen to tower."
The tower operator seemed bored. "Tower to thirteen. You're all cleared for circumpolar orbit. Take off at six fifteen."
About a minute later, the chronometer on the panel indicated the quarter-hour, and Fred punched down the firing key. There was no warming-up period in these ships. The monopropellant fuel needed no separate oxidizer or mixing. It was pumped from the tank through the injector nozzle, struck a mesh of heavy copper, and instantly burst into explosion. Fire sprayed out of the rockets against the concrete pad, lighting up the whole landscape, and the little ship shot upward on its savage jet of flame.
The pressure of two gravities of acceleration added to the normal single gravity pull of Earth to drive Fred back sharply against the seat. Every cell of his body seemed to weigh three times what it should, and his hands felt stiff and clumsy on the controls. But he was used to heavier thrusts than this, and he began making the tiny corrections needed to hold the course precisely accurate. He could have depended on automatic controls and made his corrections afterward, but that wasted fuel, and his final mark would depend on efficiency as well as accuracy in his piloting.
Twenty seconds after take-off, they reached supersonic speed. There was a faint shaking, but the ship took the change smoothly at the two miles of height and went on climbing.
A minute after take-off, at a height of twenty miles where the air was thin and offered lower resistance, Fred pulled the fuel lever back. Now their rate of acceleration doubled, and five times normal weight pressed him back into the seat. His lungs fought for breath, his arms felt like lead against the supports that held them, and even his fingers were hard to control. There was less than three minutes of such acceleration.
During the brief "high gravity" period, the ship had turned in answer to his feeble actions. It was now heading around the Earth toward the North Pole, rising slowly toward orbit at three hundred miles up, and traveling at more than five miles a second. Now, at a flip of his finger, the rockets shut off and they coasted along on momentum.
Without the thrust of the rockets, there was no feeling of weight. The pull of Earth was acting on the ship and the men's bodies to slow them and force them into an elliptical orbit, but the effect of this gravity was exactly counterbalanced by the outward thrust of their inertia. Fred heaved a sigh of relief. He was familiar with the weightlessness of free fall and he liked the feeling. The straps on his seat held him loosely in place as he checked his instruments and ran a test against the radio be
acons from Earth. His piloting had been perfect, and they were on course.
"Well done, Mr. Halpern," Wickman commented. The words and his voice were officially correct, obviously meant for the recorder that was taping everything. Fred drew no encouragement from the commendation; the instructor's expression was still amused, as if his orders gave him some secret knowledge of what was to come.
No trouble seemed to develop, however. They passed over the North Pole beacon and received official acknowledgment of the accuracy of their course. At the top of their orbit, Fred made a single corrective blast to change their elliptical flight into a true circle around Earth, and they cruised on without further need to do anything.
Ahead of him and much higher, he now could make out the bright speck of the big manned satellite in its permanent orbit. Stanley Station was where he had received his first experience in space as a boy. His father was still in command of it, probably too busy outfitting the latest Moon expedition to notice the little high-jump ship so far below.
In its higher orbit, the big station was traveling more slowly, and Fred began to catch up to it, then passed under it. It was far behind him when he neared the South Pole.
Here more correction was needed, since the Earth was turning eastward under them. If they continued in a true circle, Goddard Academy would be far to the east of them by the time they landed. It was also time to begin dropping back slowly, to make their approach to the braking orbit for landing.
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