by Jack L Knapp
“I agree, he’s a good man. He has a good reputation too. The babies seem to like him after they get over the shyness, and both of us like him too. Too bad he only works during the week. Maybe, if you asked, he would make a house visit next time Chuck is here?”
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask. Anyway, it’s time to feed these two and put them down for their naps. Out you go, grandpa.”
Chapter Fifteen
Martha was waiting when Lina landed in Zurich. Will had joined Chuck on the trip, but seemed nervous while they were above the atmosphere. He looked through the transparent-metal ports at the unwinking stars and unconsciously shivered. The extra-atmospheric portion was short and he recovered during the descent, but remained quiet and seemed withdrawn afterwards. Chuck’s attempts to start a conversation went nowhere, and finally he gave up. Will’s condition occupied his thinking until they were off the ship.
“Are they here?” asked Chuck.
“They’ve been waiting. I ordered a light brunch as soon as I got your message. Good morning, Will; I’m glad to see you’re looking better.” Will nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Couldn’t be helped, Martha. The meeting went longer than expected, and I wasn’t willing to shut it off to meet with these people. They consider themselves important, I don’t.”
“Chuck, don’t antagonize them. They’re either Senators or Representatives and they wield considerable clout in the US Congress.”
“Let’s get on with it, then.” Chuck’s tone was brusque. As far as he was concerned, the meeting was no more than a distraction designed to burnish the reputation of politicians.
“We’ll take the shuttle car, Chuck. I booked them into the Zurich Marriott and reserved a conference room.”
“What about that other matter, the school? I want to see how that’s going.”
“It’s all laid on, Chuck. You’re to meet with the Americans this morning, have lunch, then visit the school. One class is trying on the new space suits. It takes time for them to get used to the feeling. Another class is learning to assemble the sunshields. This is only a training version, of course, but it’s the same except for the photovoltaic panels on top. They’re only dummies, the LED’s on the underside are powered by batteries.”
“Sounds good. What about graduation rates, are they any better?”
“Unfortunately, they’re not. Some people don’t adapt well to the simulator, some never get accustomed to wearing the suit’s underlayer. It’s elastic, and if they have any circulation problems the suit emphasizes them. I don’t know if there’s anything to be done. We’re at approximately 50% graduation rate, and the biggest influence on whether students pass or fail is simple physical condition; people who live in cities aren’t very fit.”
“What about hiring more outdoor peoples, farmers or whatever?”
“There aren’t that many, and most of them have problems adapting to the technical base. Farmers aren’t eager to go into space, even with what we’re paying.”
“Keep trying, Martha. We need more people who can work with their hands. Pilots we’ve got, it’s construction guys and plumbers and electricians that we’re hurting for. What about ex-military people? Are we getting any of those?”
“We are, but some have psychological problems. Chuck, I’m doing my best.”
“I understand, Martha. Okay, I’ll get off your case. Anyway, we’re here. Politicians...what was it Lee said, ‘I would rather die a thousand deaths’?”
“Lee who?”
Will held the door open, then silently followed them inside. The tables had been cleared, except for pots of tea and coffee. Chuck poured himself a cup and sipped appreciatively as Martha and Will found seats. He put the cup down and spoke.
“I’m Charles Sneyd, my friends call me Chuck. I’m CEO of New Frontiers, Incorporated. You’ve already met Martha, she’s senior vice president in charge of our Swiss office. Will Crane is a major stockholder and has been our director of flight operations. He’s currently on leave, recuperating from injuries, but I thought it important that he come along. I don’t know your names.”
The introductions went around, but Chuck stopped them twice to make notes. His face showed no expression. One of the names was Pinchot Forberger, introduced as a staff member to a Senator who’d canceled at the last minute. The name meant nothing to Chuck.
As soon as the introductions were done, he stood.
“This will only take a moment, then we can get on with the meeting. Senator Byington, Representative Chambers, will you come with me, please?”
The two stood and looked around, surprised at the attention.
“This way, please.” Chuck accompanied them to the door. His voice remained low, but the people inside the room heard most of the conversation.
“You two can leave. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out you were working for Sol Goldman, that you’re the corrupt sons of bitches who got our plant shut down? My grandfather worked himself to death and you did everything you could to destroy his life’s work. Get your sorry asses out of here before I lose my temper.”
“Now see here, Sneyd! Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“I know who, and I know what. You’re slime. Leave now, while you still can!” Chuck’s voice had risen. Martha heard the anger and headed for the door, almost running.
“Will, help me! Chuck’s lost control!”
Outside, Chuck’s rant paused for a moment and Byington spoke up. “You arrogant ass! You can’t talk to me that way!”
Will got there just in time, grabbing Chuck’s arm as he clenched his fist and drew back. He was barely able to restrain Chuck.
“Get out of here, quick! I’ve never seen him like this!” Martha urged.
The two men, ashen faced, backed away, then hurried down the corridor.
“Chuck, do you understand what just happened?”
“I...don’t know. I’ve been under a lot of pressure, and just lost it. The sight of those smug bastards, realizing that they believed their position made them somehow immune...I just saw red. Really,” he said wonderingly, “my view of them turned red, as if someone had put tinted glasses over my eyes. Maybe it was the blood vessels in my eyes, but I just couldn’t stand it. I’m sorry. I guess I overreacted.”
Fifteen minutes later, Will and Martha accompanied a red-faced Chuck into the conference room. “I’m sorry, just let me refill my coffee. I’m don’t know what I can do to help the US Congress, but I’m sure you’ll tell me, won’t you?”
#
John was waiting anxiously when Goliath landed. This ship, the second of the new Giant class, carried the main body of the construction machine. The operators had voted to call the device a bulldigger. John grinned and accepted the name, because the machine, after assembly, would have a rear-facing bulldozer blade and a backhoe in front. The backhoe attachment could be swapped out for a bucket-loader when needed, in the same manner as skid-steer machines. The bucket would be delivered with the second shipment, which also included the tracks and running gear. Giant would also bring the fuel storage tank and the protective dome, what the assembly crewmen called the ‘tent’.
Farside was parked near the huge blast craters. A long power cable led from the ship to the site John had chosen for assembling the bulldigger. The fuel cells, assisted by the PV cells on the ship’s fuselage, would provide electric power to the work crew until the fuel-rod system came online. For now, electricity was limited. The big machine, assembled, would dig the trenches; the next pair of flights would bring up pre-threaded lengths of pipe and connectors to join them together. A separate shipment would bring the pumps and Stirling-cycle engine generators to circulate the fluid and produce electricity. One thousand, one hundred thirty four fuel rods, unusable on Earth, waited; they had been deposited in a flat area a kilometer from the grid, separated far enough to prevent them interacting with each other. John expected delays, construction jobs almost always experienced delays of one kind or another, but he belie
ved Moonbase would be ready for occupancy within a month.
“Let’s go, we’re wasting fuel! Get Goliath unloaded, Giant is just behind her. I want that tent in place before we quit for the day!”
The men boarded their assigned lifters and headed for the ship. Four lifters, each with eight impellers arranged similar to the original King, could never have lifted the heavy digger on Earth; on the moon, they had no problem at all. They hovered inside the open bay and waited while workers attached lifting chains. Despite the one-sixth gravity, mass remained, and inertia could be dangerous; the lifters took up the slack and lifted carefully, a coordinated dance that soon had the big machine out of the cargo bay. Giant moved in as Goliath departed, on her way back to Earth for another load.
The ‘tent’ wasn’t a tent, despite the name. It was a huge dome made of engineered panels. Disassembled into its constituent carbon-fiber panels and packaged for shipping, the dome filled the rest of the cargo bay. The outside of the dome was covered with PV panels, while the underside held multiple LED units. The dome protected the men from solar radiation, the solar panels charged the batteries that provided power to the lights. Working beneath the domed cover, a second shift would begin assembling and prepping the bulldigger. Even after daylight vanished, the lights would remain on. During the long lunar night, a power cable from Farside, or later from the fuel-rod generating plant, would keep the lights on.
The men would work beneath the dome while the bulldigger operators dug the trenches. Sections of pipes would be joined together, forming the complicated system that would carry the working fluid beneath the fuel rods. Busy lifters carried assembled sections and laid them ready by the open trenches. Other men bolted pumps to supports and anchored them to the lunar surface, leaving only the final connections to be made after the pipe sections were joined in the trenches.
#
“What are we looking at here?” asked Chuck.
“The students are learning about the different versions of the space suits. They’re currently wearing the inside absorbent layer, the one that wicks moisture away. They’ll get the second layer tomorrow. The two layers make up the shipsuit. The third outer layer will be added next week, as soon as they’re ready for pool training. I don’t know how complete your briefing has been?”
“Bare bones only, Martha, my time is limited. Tell me about them.”
“The shipsuit is designed for the low pressure that’s standard in the crew compartment. Crewmen can wear the suit for up to eight hours under those conditions. If the ship’s pressure drops, the suit will maintain pressure around the torso and limbs. Pressure loss in the crew compartment is not expected to be instantaneous, so the wearer has time to put on his helmet and lock the ring. After the ring is locked, the suit’s torso inflates. Operating pressure is equivalent to 5000 feet elevation. That’s lower than sea level pressure, but not so low that it requires acclimatization. The mixture of gases in the suit tanks includes enhanced oxygen and water vapor, making up for suit pressure that’s slightly lower than cabin normal. Both systems supply reduced amounts of nitrogen and carbon dioxide, compared to Earth normal. Atmospheric trace gases aren’t necessary. The mix reduces the likelihood of developing the bends if pressure drops rapidly.
“The third, outermost layer, is added over the shipsuit for extended operation in zero pressure. That layer is armored at the joints to reduce the chances of tearing. It’s a better design than what the Apollo people had.”
Chuck nodded and listened to the instructor as he continued his interrupted lesson. “Both shipsuit layers are snug, and they have to be. Think of the suit as a cross between panty hose and support stockings, or the squeeze you get if you wrap an injury in several layers of elastic bandage. The first layer is snug, but by the time you’ve added four or five layers, it’s uncomfortably tight. The suit uses the same principle, increased pressure through addition. Neither layer is uncomfortably tight, which makes them easy to put on. Together, the shipsuit layers mean that the arms and legs do not need to be pressurized.
“Women have it easier; you men, if you aren’t careful where you store your family jewels, you’ll lose them. Not by forgetting where they were, but to the surgeon’s knife when you finally notice what the lack of circulation has done.
“You’ll wear the inner layer for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, we’ll add the second layer and next week you’ll put on the third layer and fit your fishbowl. They’re heavy, but you won’t notice the weight after you enter the pool.”
Chuck followed Martha down the hall. “Is that the new fishbowl, the one with the oxygen and water canisters attached?”
“Right, it’s not easy putting it on in Earth gravity because the canisters behind the helmet are awkward. If you’re on the moon or in free fall, it’s much easier. Just lift it up, slide underneath and pull it into position facing slightly left, twist ten degrees right to lock the interrupted threads, then secure the compression ring. It’s as easy and foolproof as we could make it.”
“Handy. Something else I’ll have to learn, I suppose. How much longer before the older ones are phased out?”
“Probably six months. It will take that long to run all our topside employees through the school and fit their ‘bowls. The old version works, it’s just that the new ones are handier and the canisters are easier to change. Let’s go outside and watch the construction class. They’re putting one of the ‘tents’ together, the protective dome that will be used on the moon. Have you been up there recently?”
“No, I’ve been too busy. I’ve seen John’s reports, of course. The craters are cleaned out and we’ve got more than a thousand fuel rods waiting for the rest of the system to be finished. He says a month, but he’s assuming the habitats are ready by then.
“We’re using the same companies that make the accordion-style walls that troops set up in a day. The habitats also borrow from the containerized living spaces used in Iraq and Afghanistan. Not much need to redesign them, just adapt them for low gravity and zero atmosphere. They were made to be shipped in a single container, so all we do is load the container into one of the Giant class ships and off it goes. The containers will stay on the moon. They’ll be useful for storage. Most are airtight, which also helps. Several have been adapted to serve as bunkhouses until the habitats are livable, but later we’ll set them up in a block as emergency shelters. Conversion is easy; just replace the door with an airlock, stock them with air tanks, rations, and water, and you’re set. There are external racks and connectors for the air and water tanks. Solar cells charge batteries that warm the water, so it doesn’t freeze after the sun goes down. The combusting toilet design isn’t ready yet, but it won’t take long. They’re common in Alaska, we just rework the standard model. The biggest problem is the airtight seal, a kind of mini-airlock. You don’t want to lose your atmosphere while you’re cleaning out your toilet!”
The two walked to where instructors observed the crews, four men and a supervisor to each panel. Chuck listened as one of the instructors explained the system.
“Lock the smaller subunits into an orange-slice panel. Plug them in carefully, then close the locking clamp. If you do it wrong, you’re going to ruin a very expensive piece of gear! But if you take it slow and careful, the guide pins will make sure everything lines up properly. Handling the panels is awkward down here, but it’s going to be easy on Luna. Remember to go slow, don’t torque the panel or you’ll break a connector. We need four men on Earth, but only two will be needed on the moon. Get to know the parts, look for the index pins and sockets, and make sure the assembly numbers are the same for each section. If you do that, you won’t have any problems. You assemble the orange-slice panels the same way you do the subunits. Everything fits together tightly and there are upper and lower guides that seal the joint so radiation can’t leak through. If you’re working dayside, you’ll know when you’ve got it right. The PV panels on top will charge the batteries and the LED’s will light.”
One o
f the men had a question. “Will they light up here?”
“They will. Seeing the lights come on is an important training aid. The only difference is that these PV panels are dummies, the real ones are heavy and expensive, so we use battery packs for training.” The man nodded.
The crew glanced curiously at Chuck and Martha; apparently they had no idea who the visitors were.
Half an hour later, they were back in Martha’s office.
“You’ve done a fine job, Martha. John will be glad to see the new men, he figures another ten of those domes will be needed eventually. I’ve got to get back to Iceland, so I’ll go find Will and we’ll be on our way.”
“How’s he doing? I saw him in the hospital and right after he was released, but...”
“He’s not the old Will. I just don’t know, he worries me. For now, he’s still carried on convalescent leave. I think I’ll take him to Australia, see if spending time with Frenchy might help. They’re old friends, they’ve known each other since before we started the company.”
“That’s a good idea, Chuck. When will you do that?”
“This weekend. I thought of sending him ahead in Lina, but he’s really nervous when she tops out in space. It’s like he freezes until we reenter atmosphere. He more or less recovers before we reach the airport. I don’t understand it.”
“Chuck, he was badly injured. That can change anyone.”
“I suppose. That piece of shrapnel in my knee sure changed me. One more thing, did that bunch of politicians head home yet?”
“Most have. They were pretty disappointed.”
“I offered to haul cargoes or personnel wherever they wanted, same rates as we charge the French. But they wanted access to the impellers, and some of them hinted I should contribute campaign money! Corrupt fools, the lot of them! I’m not a defense contractor, I’m not even a government employee. If I never see them again it will be too soon.
“But they’re not getting impellers, Martha. They’ll fly in our ships, or not at all.”
