The first Lunar Colony is being built, but delays mean the workers may cook in the sun. |
A LUNAR TAN By Lyle R. Amlin Sunrises often are quite beautiful, but on the Moon they can be something else entirely. Putting this all down on paper (rather, talking it into the computer) wasn't my idea...it was the grandkids. "Grandpa," they kept saying, "why don't you 'puter all of your stories for us. It was funny in the old days." So I decided to do it. I'm not a writer, I'm just telling you like I remember it. Maybe the things that were said were a bit different, but that's how an old man remembers it, so here you are, tadpoles. * * * * Getting up to the Moon was a lot different back then. Following the world-wide economic meltdown in 2008-09 came the success of the International Space Station in 2010. Pressed to stimulate the resulting world-wide depression, NASA, the European Space Agency, the Nippon Space Group and the Soviet Space Institute joined together to form Luna Corporation for the express purpose of establishing the first permanent habitation on Luna. Money was dumped into the economies of the participating countries to build the needed Earth lifters, an expanded ISS facility and all of the support facilities. Both the USA and Russia wanted the honor (and the extra monies) of hosting the ground launch facilities and the in-fighting made the first window of the new ‘net-news channels’ for weeks. The political log jam was solved when Guyana in South America was selected. That tiny, impoverished country really benefited from the billions spent there to construct the new space port on the coast near what had been “Jonestown” in the late 1970’s. “Where’s Guyana and Jonestown?” you ask? Go google “Rev. Jim Jones” or “The Peoples Temple”. Five years later the huge Russian-built boosters started lifting supplies to “Essy” and then rocket robots hauled most of the supplies to the Lunar surface. The first Lunar workers, including Uncle Mark and myself, flew to the Siberian Tundra where we began final training for the mission. We all had been trained at Canaveral (the old USA space launch port) and then White Sands, working with the vac tools we would be using. On the Tundra, in the 50 and 60 degree below zero temps, we put on our first space suits, pressurized them, and began working in the cold, using thick gloves which made construction of anything three times as hard. We also got to practice with the “Moon Cats”. Those were tracked crawlers with a small, pressurized cabin that could hold two to four men. The ‘Cats would be our only transportation on Luna. The training was over and we flew to Guyana to lift to Essy and then on to the Moon in the Trans Earth-Luna ships. No, it was not like it is today to get to Luna. Back then it was mostly waiting and waiting...then more waiting. We had to wait at the Guyana space port while the rocket was fueled. Then we had to wait for two hours inside the rocket while a last-minute glitch was fixed. Next came the awful noise, crushing weight and vibration of the rocket launch followed by the six hours it took to coast to the Earth Space Station and dock. Essy was not the “Wheel” you know of; that wasn’t built for another 15 years. Essy was the original International Space Station put up starting in the early 2000’s. It was ugly -- a mess of tanks, cabins, modules, and solar cells that ran every which way and looked like it was held together with bailing wire. Scattered all over were more of the supplies that we would need on Luna. We waited around another couple of days (in zero gravity, Essy didn't spin like the Wheel) and then there was the hour of low-powered rocket thrust to build up escape velocity followed by three days of coasting to the moon. That was pretty boring. After reaching Luna there was more time waiting while we transferred to a Lunar Lander and two more hours while it dropped out of orbit. Once we were down on Luna’s soil, it took five hours to fix a leaky hatch to get us out to work. All the time from Earth to Luna I got to see space exactly once...and that was when I took a peek out the one window while we were parked next to Essy...but that's a different story. I was in the last of five ships that had landed near what is now Luna City -- we called it Loony Landing at first -- but, of course, only the five ships were there. There were a dozen or so transport robots that had been landed weeks and months before we had arrived, including two that hadn’t make exactly soft landings. Those were piles of twisted metal, useless to us now. Later on, well, that’s yet another story. As I said, we had to build the first permanent habitat on Luna. I know, the U.S. Navy had their temporary observatory there before but that wasn't a real permanent settlement like Loony Landing was. Anyway, we started work on the first habitat. It was a 30-meter-wide half ball, we called it the "Half Orange" since it was painted orange. There were about 15 of us and one moon cat to dig the hole. Once we had The Orange finished we could move in, and more supplies would arrive, along with more workers to build the atomic power plant. Until then we’d have to survive off solar cell power generated during the two weeks of Lunar sunshine. Getting The Orange built in two weeks was absolutely vital. We landed just as the Sun set on the site, throwing us into darkness. We had lights of course but if we didn’t get The Orange ready by the time the Sun came up again in 14 days we’d cook. See, our ships and our suits weren’t designed to survive in the direct sunlight, they just weren’t insulated for that. We had two weeks to finish The Orange, pump oxy and nitro into it and move in for the next two weeks of sunshine.. Most of us were erection specialists who had to pour the plasto-concrete base and erect the Orange and two guys who ran the mooncat. Two days into the hole digging the 'cat ran into a huge boulder that shouldn't have been there. So much for the “engineers” who did the original site selection. Uncle Mark was running the 'cat at the time and he said the 'cat just clanged and just plain stopped moving when the blade caught the corner of the rock. Me and a couple of other guys were working to get the solar cell array set up about a quarter of a mile away behind a small hill so we couldn't get any of Uncle Mark's report right away. In fact, we didn't know about the rock until our shift had ended three hours later and we came back to the ships for a sleep break and a couple of hot meals. As soon as we came around the hill we could hear the chatter over the suit radios about the rock, but we still didn't understand what they were talking about. Finally, inside the ship, while we were getting a well done steak (yes, we had steak back then, but it'd been freeze dried and didn't taste half as good as one of Lunarbrook Farms steaks do today) I got the details direct from Uncle Mark who was sitting at the next table and discussing it with the other 'cat driver and George Wilson, the commander of the project. The rock was about eight meters long and about five in diameter. It had no business being there because the ground was all lunar gravel and dust in this area and the rock was a chunk of lava. Just how it got there mystified everyone, the best idea (and the one I agree with...I guess that's why I thought it was the best idea) was that a meteor had hit the Lunar surface and blasted this particular chunk of lava away. Mark said he figured it weighed probably about 100 metric tons and there was no way the 'cat could push it out. We didn't have any heavy cable and winches that could pull it out and there weren't any explosives to blast it out. Obviously, it was there to stay. The next shift Wilson announced on the radio net we would have to abandon this site and begin a new hole. Since the project timetable called for the Orange to be covered by Day 11, the two and a half days we had lost still gave us the slim margin of half of a day before the sun came up and we began to cook. It was a setback, but it wasn't terminal. For the next couple of shifts things went pretty good. One guy smashed his hand pretty bad with a wrench on the solar array (as I remember he broke two fingers) and was out of commission, but the hole was about half dug when the damn 'cat had an electric motor freeze up. We did have a spare motor, but it took almost two shifts to replace it and that put us over into sunrise. Mark and the other driver, aided by the two back up drivers began putting in 12-hour shifts and the schedule was back on line. Well, barely back on schedule. But everyone thought we could make it. They say things come in threes and this was no exception. Just before the final site leveling was done one of the 'cats' tracks cracked and peeled off. Uncle Mark, me and three other guys went to work welding and replacing the track, but now it was clear to everyone that we didn't have enough time left before sunup to pour the plasto-concrete, erect the Orange and get it covered with Luna dirt. And if we didn't finish in time there was no way we could work in the sun...if we tried we'd fry in just a few minutes. I know, the new skin-tights we've got now allow you to go anywhere, sun or not, but back then things were done on a shoestring and our suits were designed for dark work only. Things started to get really tense. Everyone was thinking about the upcoming sunrise and how we’d all just sit there and cook in our suits and the Lunar Landers. There were even a couple of fights in the mess, nothing serious and no one was hurt badly. Finally we got the 'cat repaired and things calmed down a bit. Uncle Mark and the other drivers started on double shifts, actually, it was four hours on and four off and finished the leveling. My team got to work erecting the prefab Orange. We worked four on and four off around the clock and construction went really fast. But not fast enough. Sunrise got nearer and nearer and the tension increased again. People really starting watching the clocks and there were a couple more fights. Finally, there was only about two hours to sunrise and the 'cat had just started back-filling the dirt. Uncle Mark and I were having a cup of coffee alone in the mess when I suggested the curtain idea to him. Uncle Mark thought it would work and wanted to help so we suited up, went into The Orange and grabbed three rolls of light brown nylon designed to divide the work space inside The Orange. We hauled it outside and then wrestled a couple of 10-meter aluminum poles around to the east side of The Orange (I think they were supposed to be the radio masts, but never did find out for sure). We hand-dug two holes, dropped the poles into them, tossed in some rocks and dirt. We shinnied up the poles and strung a wire between them. Finally we got a couple of other thin poles and used them to flop the nylon up over the wire. Now that nylon was certainly thin enough stuff, but when the sun came up (just as we finished) it blocked out about 85% of the heat...left enough sun through to give us some good light to finish working but not too much to cook us. The back-filling took two more days and everyone moved into the Orange. Wilson tried to dress Uncle Mark and me down for not getting an okay on the idea first, but since it worked there wasn't much he could say...especially after Luna Corp gave us a bonus and we were on all the Netnews channels back on Earth for three days. You know, people always put a sun-tan lotion on when they go to the beach or work outside on Earth, but Uncle Mark and I built the first Lunar tan sunscreen "A Lunar Tan" "Jungle Juice High" "The Iron Midden" "Made On The Moon" "Cow Who Jumped On The Moon" "Gunfight at the Paris Corral" "The Long John Space Suit" |