Lunar Discovery: Let the Space Race Begin

by Salvador Mercer

  Marge stood, but Rock motioned for her to sit back down. He would take point on the issue as team leader and not let Marge be a target in case things got ugly. Marge was one of the most brilliant minds Rock had ever had the pleasure to work with, but when it came to dealing with politics and . . . well, other women, Marge’s skill set was more than a bit lacking.

  “Madam President, I’ll handle the details, if you don’t mind?” Rock said, standing from the first row and walking next to Mr. Smith near the camera. President Powers nodded and Rock began.

  “You’ve been briefed, and our data has been sent to you in the report. It’s all there. I’m only going to spell out the implications. We have a high confidence level in our data, and if correct, it means the current mission profile is doomed to failure. There is no way for even our Saturn V to be able to lift the payload required if it has to be that heavily shielded.”

  Mrs. Brown worked her magic, and a side screen came up on each monitor, showing payload data.

  “It would require more than four times the lift capability of the Saturn in order to reach the moon with the shielding weight requirements for success. Not only do we not have that ability right now, but even if we did, we could not successfully launch the equipment in four different loads. It needs to be integrated, and that is literally impossible with our current configuration, not to mention our lack of that many rockets,” Rock said.

  “But your team’s calculations could be incorrect?” the president asked.

  “The actual energy output of the EMP could be off—we have no reliable way to measure it near the source—but the hypothesis on the propagation profile and power estimates fit perfectly to explain the two phenomenon of the Chinese equipment failure and the inability of our scanners to detect any trace of an EMP pulse,” Rock said. “We know for a fact the Chinese equipment is dead. That should at least indicate the use of caution on our part.”

  Rock looked toward Craig and Julie, who were seated near the first row. It would be their lives on the line, not anyone else’s, and Rock intended to hammer that fact home if he had to, president or not.

  The president leaned over and whispered something into the ear of the Director of National Security before resuming and looking right into the camera. “Could readings from a probe nearby confirm this hypothesis?”

  “Well, yes, if it was sensing the pulse strength and was properly shielded itself, it could measure the EMP strength quite accurately, especially if it was in a different orbit from the Chinese. Given two separate readings, one an estimated range to simulate the pulse strength of the Chinese orbit, and then a ratio could be calculated and a fair approximation assessed for the wave’s strength at the source of origin,” Rock said, his tone one of confusion. “But we have scrapped the plans for a lunar reconnaissance craft and would have no way of confirming the hypothesis without this additional data.”

  Powers looked at her notes on the table where she sat, taking nearly a minute to leaf through them and refusing the assistance of one of her aides who was overeager to help. No one dared to bother her, and everyone had the good sense to remain quiet. Finding a specific piece of paper, she resumed her attention on Rock via the camera. “So you need the readings for the EMP using what measurement?”

  “Waveform and frequency readings would be enough,” Rock said.

  There was another moment of silence, and the Director of National Security actually placed his hand over the president’s mike while whispering something to her. She nodded and then cleared her throat. “Mr. Smith, clear Mr. Crandon’s team for complete access to the latest data from Operation Eagle Eye.”

  “I thought my team had full clearance for all data related to the moon and alien device,” Rock said, feeling a tinge of betrayal at the idea that he was misled as to the level of clearance he and his team held.

  “Actually, you do,” Mr. Smith said before the president could answer. “There is simply a time lag in the data while we clear it for dissemination.”

  “A lag!” Tom practically shouted from the first row, and Rock had to turn, holding his hands up and motioning for Tom to stay calm. “Damn spooks,” Tom added under his breath.

  Rock was relieved that the minor outburst by his team member was overlooked or ignored as the president spoke. “Mr. Crandon, you have full clearance, but we have certain protocols to follow when we distribute our information due to how it’s obtained. This involves our HUMINT section and the actual people involved when it comes to gathering our intel. I’m sure you can appreciate the risks taken to the personnel that are providing this important data to us.”

  Rock understood why she was a successful politician. Her words seemed to hit home, and Rock was sure his team understood the sanctity of human life. Risking the lives of their astronauts was bad enough, but now he and his team had basically just been told that espionage was involved and someone else’s life was at stake. “Understood, Madam President.”

  “Mr. Smith, give the information to Mr. Crandon and his team now. We’ll wait while they make an initial assessment,” the president said.

  Mr. Smith nodded to Brown, and she transferred a file to his team’s inboxes. Rock walked over to where Marge had her laptop open perched on her legs, and sat down next to her. The entire auditorium was silent as the engineers from Jeff Wheeler’s team and the academia types fidgeted in their seats.

  Marge opened the file and started to read the data to Jack, who was plugging it into his spreadsheet on his tablet. It took only minutes to update the concentric graphic showing various strength levels for the EMP. “Done,” Marge said, looking to Rock.

  “Send it to her,” Rock said, referring to Mrs. Brown.

  Marge attached the updated graphic and emailed it to Brown, who opened it and launched it on the side screen. The president and her staff looked to their sidebar to see it.

  “Satisfied?” Rock asked.

  “This looks pretty close to your estimates, is that correct?” the president asked.

  “That is correct, Madam President, and the levels are, as we hypothesized previously, lethal,” Rock finished, returning to stand next to Smith, relieved that the data confirmed their suspicions as well as the fact that they most likely saved the lives of their own astronauts, despite making their current mission profile impossible.

  “Solution?” she asked.

  Rock felt good enough at what they had conveyed to the president and her staff, so he looked at Marge, who gave a slight nod. “I’ll have Doctor Jones explain.”

  Marge stood while Rock took his seat. “I won’t ask where you obtained this data, but it verifies our concerns. This means that any landing directly near this lunar object will most likely fail without an inordinate amount of shielding to both the equipment and the crew.” At this, Marge looked at both Julie and Craig before continuing. “We propose the following two changes to the mission profile. First, we insert the lunar command module into a polar orbit instead of an equatorial one. As long as the orbit is within ninety miles of the surface, the moon itself will act as a shield from the electromagnetic pulses.”

  Someone started talking off camera in the president’s Situation Room, and President Powers raised a hand to pause Marge’s report. After a few seconds, the president looked into the camera again. “My scientific advisor is asking how this . . . polar orbit, as you call it, will prevent the device from being in the”—another pause and more talking off screen—“line of sight of our spacecraft.”

  Marge nodded. “Yes, well, I was getting to that part.” Rock knew she wasn’t going to mention it, but she seemed annoyed at the interruption and was venting a bit. Marge continued. “As long as the polar orbit is within ninety miles, as I was saying, the rotation of the moon is much slower than earth’s, taking the same amount of time to rotate as it does to orbit. This would give our command module approximately four to six days of safety, being out of the line of sight of this alien object, before the moon could rotate enough to bring our command module wi
thin range of the object’s EMP. Could you check your inbox, Mrs. Brown?” Marge asked the lady.

  Mrs. Brown looked up and then back to her tablet. “I have three files here from you.”

  “Load the first file and put it up for the president, if you don’t mind?” Marge asked.

  Soon the sidebar showed an illustration of the moon with the line of sight angles from the object to the command module. The dashed lines indicated the cone where the EMP was present. “As you can see from this first illustration, the polar orbit will allow us to stay in lunar orbit and keep the command module functioning with minimal shielding. Now for the tricky part, and excuse the animation if it seems crude. We had to use an older program for it, and we had little time to polish it.”

  Marge nodded at Mrs. Brown, who launched the second file. “Normally when a lander detaches from the orbiter, it would follow the same path as the orbiting module and land down range.” The animation showed a small object detaching from the orbiting command module and landing on the moon’s surface farther north from where the lander unhooked.

  “Load the third file, please.” Marge indicated to Brown. “Now this third animation will show the lander slowing almost to a stop above the equatorial plane after detaching slightly above its south pole. Our calculations show the lander coming to a relative halt along the north-south y-axis at around forty to forty-two miles above the lunar surface. It would then execute a lateral burn, approaching the alien object from the retrograde side of the moon along the x-axis here.” The animation showed the small lander icon moving along the moon’s equator toward the large red X that indicated the location of the alien object.

  “While approaching, the moon’s gravity will be pulling the lander to a contact point roughly about here.” She motioned to the side screen where a blue circle suddenly appeared and started to flash. “This location is about thirty miles from the target sight and is protected by a partial rim of an old meteor impact crater and this range of hills or mountains, thus protecting the lander from the pulse as well. From this blue circle landing site, our crew would approach the target in a shielded surface craft with protective suits enhanced to handle the increased radiation. Any questions?”

  “Are they mad?” The words were clearly audible from the speakers broadcasting what was presumed to be the president’s scientific advisor who was still off camera.

  The president raised her hand to quiet him. “What makes you think this plan will work?”

  “We aren’t sure it will work. We’ve had less than a few hours to even design something this complex, but the nature of the mission, along with its urgency, mandates that something be done. This is our best attempt,” Marge said, her tone sharpening a bit.

  This didn’t dissuade the scientific advisor as there was more of the commotion in the Situation Room. This time it was the president herself who covered her microphone, but the effort was half hardy and Rock heard the protests coming from her advisor.

  “Are there any other plans being developed?” the president asked.

  Rock stood and walked next to Marge, slightly touching her elbow so she knew he was there as he addressed the president. “There are no other plans being developed at NASA. If you or your advisor have a different idea, then by all means, inform us and we will consider them. If not, I suggest you allow my team and I to move forward on an official feasibility study after we’ve calculated fuel requirements and the necessary payloads this sort of mission would require.”

  There was a moment of pause as the president consulted with others off screen. Finally she addressed Rock for the final time. “You have forty-eight hours, Mr. Crandon. Use them wisely.”

  “We will, Madam President,” Rock said.

  Chapter 15

  Respites

  Vostochny Cosmodrome

  Siberia, Russia

  In the near future, Day 28

  “Blyad!” Vlad cursed, sitting in his chair and tossing the folder back on the table. Irina looked at him and then quickly left his office, returning to her desk.

  “I told you the news would not be pleasant,” Aleksey said, leaning back in his chair opposite Vlad’s desk, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

  “So our store of liquid hydrogen is also as low as the liquid oxygen?” Vlad asked.

  Alex opened his eyes and looked out the door toward Irina. “I can see why you hired her.”

  “Not now, Alex. The fuel stores, are they indeed below fifteen percent?” Vlad asked, a sigh escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes.

  “What? Oh, yes, the figures are correct. They came directly from Moscow this morning. I’ve asked our quartermaster for an update once we can expect a new shipment,” Alex said, looking back from Irina’s desk and giving his boss a large smile.

  “So enough for one more launch.” Vlad made a statement rather than a question.

  “Correct, that is why I came to see you. With the extra personnel on board the Gordust, their provisioning will take a priority. I need to swap out the payload,” Alex said.

  “We sent up over a month’s worth of supplies,” Vlad said, the tone of frustration evident in his voice. “Why do we need more?”

  “It may take a week or two to secure the propellant. Our heroes need to eat during the meantime, and there are six of them, not four as previously planned. We needed the extra hands for the shielding construct that we built. That uses a lot more energy, you know.”

  “I know that, Alex, but after six launches in such a short amount of time, I feel we are so close and now this. Instead of only two more launches, we may have to make three. This is unacceptable.”

  “Calm down, Vladimir. We’ll still get to the surface first from what the news reports say, and this time I even believe them. We made it there first with the orbiter,” Alex said, a touch of pride in his voice.

  “Yes, I saw the pictures. We can all hold our heads up high for that one,” Vlad said, a bit calmer now.

  Alex leaned in closer, whispering, “I was surprised they showed them so quickly. I thought for sure the State would have kept them under wraps.”

  Vlad pondered his chief engineer’s words for a moment before responding in his normal tone of voice. “No need for discretion now, Alex. The pictures show the world that we have succeeded where the Americans have failed. It’s a moment of national pride, and rightly so. We have worked hard to earn this moment.”

  Alex leaned back. Habits were hard to change, but he made the effort speaking normally and matching his boss’s tone. “Agreed, Vladimir, but we’re taking chances that could allow the Americans, or even the Chinese, to glean something from what we’re showing.”

  “Nonsense,” Vlad responded. “It’s just a better detailed photo of what was circulating around the internet from those grainy Chinese versions. I don’t think anyone knows what the device does or how to access it, and the code is still unbroken by any expert.”

  The Russian orbiter had entered lunar orbit and taken high definition photos of the alien object, which was difficult to see from the overhead angle that it took. More definition on its shape and outline was determined by its sharp contrasting shadow laid across the lunar ground. The news, with the pictures, were broadcast on all Russian television channels the day before and had made a large global impact as most everyone on earth had looked at them in one form or another.

  Vlad wasn’t sure what the agenda was in releasing the images—Moscow always had one—but the impact was more than astonishing, and Vlad couldn’t help but feel that he and his team members played a very important role in current events as they were transpiring relative to the alien object. Getting there with people to secure the object was going to be harder and a bit longer.

  Alex looked again at Irina, shaking his head before turning his attention back to Vlad. “So any word from Minister Osnokov?”

  “Not yet. It’s still early. He left only two days ago, and no doubt this revelation had something to do with it. I’m not sure even he
knew that the Americans had purchased every contract for propellant delivery in the next ninety days on all the global markets,” Vlad said.

  Alex whistled and sat up at that news. “So that is the hold up. It’s a good thing we’re producing at the levels we are now, otherwise there wouldn’t be another launch till next month.”

  “Yes, Alex,” Vlad said, looking intently at his main confidant on the facility. “That is why I ordered max levels for propellants as soon as I saw that hair-brained plan that Moscow cooked up.”

  “Hair-brained?” Alex looked dubious.

  “You think it a good plan, Aleksey?”

  “Not ideal, but it will work.”

  Vlad leaned back and eyed Aleksey seriously, looking for any sign of jest. “It should work, but it’s still not the way to plan a lunar landing, especially for our first time.”

  “Agreed, Vlad, but time is important and we must arrive before the Americans.”

  “You’re not worried about the Chinese?”

  “Should I be? They barely have the lift capability to reach lunar orbit, much less send a heavy load to the surface and back. Their orbiter was on a one-way trip.”

  “Never underestimate the will of over a billion people, Aleksey, never.”

  *****

  People’s Republic Space Command

  Outside of Beijing, China

  In the near future, Day 31

  Hun waited for the communications to be restored again. The main communications satellite that his country had relied upon for the last decade was no more, so for priority communications, they resorted to pinging a signal off of one of the military’s reconnaissance birds as it orbited the planet in low earth orbit. The tradeoff was for every thirty minutes that they could use the military sat, there were two hours when there was no other satellite within range.

  “Inexcusable,” Chon said, putting his smartphone away in one of his cargo pant pockets.

  “The Russian photos?” Hun asked.