Beyond the Starport Adventure
By Richard W. Fairbairn
For Peter
Copyright 2016 Richard W. Fairbairn.
First released 16th January 2016.
This edition released 22nd January 2016.
PROLOGUE
1976AD – The Dark Side of the Moon.
Budget cuts had prematurely ended the Apollo program. Four years later, another tiny metal vehicle was on its way to the lunar surface. Within the hour, Captain Chris Aldridge would be the first human being to set foot on the dark side of the moon.
The mission had been planned and executed with incredible speed. The four Astronauts had been brought together only two weeks before the date of the secret launch. Aldridge had used his status as a successful fighter pilot to springboard his ambitions of becoming an Astronaut. Leaving Vietnam, he joined the test pilot school in Maryland and quickly progressed to the line of front runners for the Apollo missions. But when the program had ended he’d found it difficult to relate to military aviation. He’d almost begun to get his little crop dusting business to turn a profit when the irresistible telegram had arrived from NASA. Of course, he’d had to drop everything and go.
Aldridge had never met two of the three men, but he’d already come to know them like close friends. They was Jimmy Coleman, the team’s jokester and the Lunar Explorer Module’s pilot. Like Aldridge, Coleman had flown Phantoms in dogfights against the Russian Mig’s in 1970. Two years later, Coleman would be invited to join the United States Navy Fighter Weapons School at Miramar.
The other two astronauts were Jack Wood, a grimly serious test pilot engaged to a one time go-go dancer and Michael Rose, the quiet and disapproving father figure that Aldridge had never really warmed to. Rose had fought fierce dogfights during the Korean War. Aldridge had admired the fact that Rose had taken on three Migs in his Lockheed P-80 Shooting star, holding out until reinforcements arrived and forced the Russian fighters to flee. But Rose’s assumed superiority made him hard to actually enjoy spending time with. At forty seven years old, Rose was the oldest in the team. And it showed. Aldridge had bit his tongue on more than a few occasions where Rose’s patronising comments had made him want to sock that round, deadpanned face. Jack Wood was the only man in the team to never see air to air combat. He’d flown, briefly, in Korea, but the war had been almost over by the time he’d gained his wings. He’d confided in Chris Aldridge that he hadn’t felt himself unlucky to have missed out on flying combat missions.
Odyssey was beginning its descent. The orbiting service and command module had already returned the most detailed photographs NASA had ever seen of the anomaly. Rose and Wood had described the new detail revealed by the photos. Aldridge had listened enthusiastically, but the photos hadn’t really told him much more than he already knew. All the while he kept thinking that, pretty soon, Coleman and he would be getting a much better look at the curious, school bus sized object.
”Have you had any thoughts about what we’re going to find down there?” Aldridge asked.
Coleman was looking through his window, watching the moon’s horizon. There would be at least four minutes before the descent engine would fire again. The ship was sailing down, unpowered. There was nothing to do but wait, but still Coleman didn’t seem to want to look away from his horizon. Aldridge waited a long time for his old friend to answer. After a long pause, Coleman sighed loudly and turned round in the confined space to smile into Aldridge’s face.
“I have a feeling that you expect me to say little green men.”
“That’s not what I expected you’d say.”
Aldridge held Coleman’s stare for a long time. He watched Coleman’s face melt from a comical mask to an almost frighteningly stark contrast of pale-skinned contemplation. Aldridge was almost relieved when Coleman spoke again. It broke the tension that had filled the tiny capsule.
“Whatever it is, the Soviets have must have put it there. They have to have done it, because we sure didn’t,” he paused, considering, “I’m actually worried the Russians could get something like this into space, let alone land it or even crash it onto the moon. All of it without us knowing about it. I mean, man, what does that say about us if they could do that without us seeing or knowing?”
Aldridge exhaled. He grimaced slightly.
”Well, that’s my general opinion of this great adventure of ours too,” Aldridge said, “Makes me wonder what else they’ve got behind that iron curtain if they can send something this big here – and land it in one piece. Unless they got it here in parts and assembled it – and that’s an even more disturbing thought.”
“Well, whether or not it’s in one piece remains to be seen,” Coleman laughed wryly, “So we’ll just wait and see whether or not whatever they sent here made it intact.”
The four minutes passed excruciatingly slowly, but the seconds ticked by one by one. Odyssey had been out of contact with the earth and would be for the next two days. The orbiting command and service module was still overhead, orbiting the moon. Odyssey would relay and receive messages via the chubby, crayon-shaped spacecraft they’d labelled Dutch Girl.
“We’re ready for five second burn,” Coleman said, business like again, “Horizon is good. How’s the flat finder?”
“Flat finder’s five by five,” Aldridge replied, keeping his eyes on the radar screen, “We’ve got the secondary landing site at five kilometres from the anomaly. The primary site is looking good at this time. I’m showing go for the main engine burn in t minute thirty seconds.”
“Roger, sir. That’ll keep us where we need to be.”
“Main engine burn in twenty seconds,” Aldridge said, “This is Odyssey to Dutch Girl. We’re continuing our powered descent, preparing for main engine burn. How are we looking?”
There was only a short delay, and then Rose’s voice came back from the command module.
“Hi Chris, got you on radar here looking good for main engine burn,”
“Alright,” Aldridge said casually, placing his hand on the control, “We are going in five, four, three, two, and one,” He turned the handle, “Main burn ignition.”
There was a series of rapid beeps. The lunar module shuddered as the descent engine ignited and the lander started to slow. Aldridge experienced a sudden flash of cold from the middle of his spine to the bottom of his neck. He was holding his breath, he realised. He relaxed, releasing nitrogen and oxygen and carbon dioxide slowly and quietly.
“Dutchy, Odyssey. Descent engine firing.”
“Roger, Odyssey. Your descent is looking good.”
“Thanks Mike,” Aldridge nodded almost imperceptibly.
There was silence for a good two minutes. Aldridge was mildly surprised. Coleman seemed to always find an excuse to say something. But he was focussed on his own job right now.
“Odyssey, Dutchy. Looks like you’ve picked up a few extra miles per hour there Chris. You want to watch that.”
“Roger that. I see it; we’ve got three minutes descent fuel in the tanks and looking good. Altitude three thousand feet and we’re five miles out from the primary landing site.”
“Right, Chris. But your speed is starting to get close to the abort mark.”
Aldridge looked to his right, studying the radar display for a moment.
“Ah… Dutchy, Odyssey. I’m showing our descent rate at fifty feet per second…”
“Not your descent rate, Chris. It’s your horizontal velocity, over.”
Jimmy Coleman caught Aldridge’s eye. He frowned. Then they both looked at the radar display.
“Dutchy this is Odyssey. Horizontal velocity 300 feet per se
cond.”
“That’s a negative on that, Odyssey. Repeat, that is not correct. We’re monitoring your horizontal velocity as 350 feet per second.”
Aldridge exhaled hard. The landing would have to be aborted if certain rules were not adhered to. The Odyssey was coming in too fast and was likely to overshoot the primary landing site.
“Radar is showing us at 300 feet per second,” Aldridge reported, “Dutchy, give me a minute and we’ll try some visual confirmation.”
“Roger on that. You’ve just passed 350, Odyssey. Better move it.”
Coleman was already looking out the side portal.
“Okay, Archimedes is about five miles to our starboard. Looks about right. But… Piton is about one hundred metres above us. Yep, looks like we’re off course.”
Aldridge grabbed the attitude control joystick.
“Alright. I’ll slow us down,” And into the radio he said, “Dutchy, Odyssey. Roger on your horizontal velocity warning. I’m shooting for the primary landing site. I’m going to manually adjust our horizontal velocity.”
“Odyssey, you gotta do something Chris we’re looking at an automatic landing abort in thirty seconds. You’re missing the secondary site by too much.”
“Damn it, I know.
On the surface of the moon, the crashed spacecraft was unmoving and empty. It had been there for over fourteen days, half buried in the powdery surface of the moon about ten miles west of Piton. It was not a Russian design, or an American design. Even at this distance, it was obvious that this object had not come from the planet Earth.
Jimmy Coleman saw the spacecraft first. Dutch Girl’s photographs had shown a large mass on the surface of the planet; a designed object as opposed to a rock or cluster of rocks. As Odyssey approached the primary landing site Coleman knew immediately that this was something incredibly unique.
“Yeehaw! We got ourselves a bogey down there!” he exclaimed, “Wow, and a biggie too!” then, with some restraint and much quieter he muttered, “It’s really big, Chris.”
“Odyssey your horizontal velocity is still way off,” the voice from the service module was strained, “Chris, we’re looking at an automatic abort if you don’t correct your attitude.”
“Damn it,” Aldridge said automatically. He glanced to Coleman and, noting his friend’s awestruck expression, realised that aborting was not an option, “Ahh, Dutchy, I’m manoeuvring for landing. Main engine burn in five.”
“Odyssey? Umm, okay Chris.”
Chris Aldridge was staring at Coleman. Coleman’s mouth was open.
“We’ve got to land this thing,” he conceded, “You’ve got to see what’s down there.”
“Odyssey, Dutchy. That’s it guys, we’re out of time. We’re at automatic abort.”
Coleman touched Aldridge’s arm, getting him to look across.
“What is it Whizzo? We know the rules.”
“Screw the rules, Captain. We’ve gotta get down there. You’ve got to see this. Whatever it is, it’s not something people put up there. It’s big. Way, way too big, Chris.”
“Goddamn it,” Aldridge grunted, frustrated that he couldn’t see the object “Okay, we have ninety seconds descent fuel left. I’ve got to slow our horizontal velocity or we’ll be too far from the primary to make it on EVA,” he breathed and grunted simultaneously, “What do you mean, not something people put up there. “
“This isn’t anything we made,” Coleman shook his head, “This is… little green men, I guess.”
The Odyssey was five hundred feet from the surface. Normally, the on-board computer would have handled the descent up until this point with Coleman piloting the ship down semi manually for this last stretch. But on the far side of the moon communication with Earth was not possible. Jimmy Coleman had flown the Odyssey the whole way with only limited support from the on-board computer.
“Okay, home stretch,” Aldridge grunted. Time to get back to business. “We’re starting the turn for the final descent. And we’re still looking… ah… pretty good.”
“A little quick, but yeah roger we’re looking good. Man, Chris, wait till you see this thing.”
“Well, try to set us down close to it. I’m as keen to see this thing as you are.”
“You’ve no idea,” Coleman grinned. His eyes were wild, childlike. His expression made Aldridge slightly nervous. He knew that this meant that Coleman’s excitement was beginning to get ahead of his professionalism.
The Odyssey had already passed over the alien spacecraft. The module was turning slowly as it descended, slowing down as the descent engine fired again.
“Horizontal speed is back to normal.”
“Thanks Dutchy,” Coleman replied to the service module, “We’re three hundred metres from the surface. How far are we from… ah… it?”
“You flew about a quarter mile off course. You’re still within limits for EVA. Don’t worry.”
“Man, I’m glad you said that,” Coleman, laughed suddenly, “God damn I’d hate to get this close and not get a chance to pay them a visit.”
There was a long silence.
“Well, we’ll just leave that last remark unanswered, Whizzo. You’ll get your chance to meet your Martian, I’m sure.”
Aldridge, frowning, gave his old friend a dirty look.
“Final descent. Watch the radar. We’re almost there.”
“Terrain looks smooth, even,” Coleman said mechanically, “Nothing bigger than a baseball below us.”
“Great. Horizontal velocity is now zero. We’re hovering, Dutchy.”
“Roger that, Odyssey. We show you at fifty metres. Take it slowly now.”
The lunar module had turned ninety degrees. Aldridge and Coleman could see the lunar surface, vast and bright, stretching out below them. The mountain range had peaks taller than anything on earth. They seemed so close. Coleman wanted to reach out to touch the small viewport, and he did. His breath misted the glass for a moment.
The contact alarm sounded. Coleman held his breath. He caught Aldridge’s eye and, together, the two men looked at each other. Aldridge nodded silently.
“Contact Light!” Coleman almost shouted.
“That’s it. Dutchy this is Odyssey. We’re on the surface.”
“As easy as that,” Coleman smiled.
“Nicely done, Chris,” Rose’s voice was gravelly and dry, “That was the definition of a beautiful landing.”
“Thanks Mike. As easy as that,” Christopher Aldridge smiled his thin smile. He flicked a switch and then another. “Engine in reset mode. Dutchy, how have you still got visual on Foxtrot Alpha?”
“Roger Chris. I’m showing you at fifteen hundred feet from the anomaly. I’m not getting my best view of it now, guys, but you’ll be getting a much better look soon enough.”
“The sooner the better,” Coleman grinned, “Yee haw! I’m going to meet me a Martian!”
“Whizzo, you know that Houston’s going to be listening to all this recorded radio chat once we get back to Earth, don’t you?”
“Sure I know, but I don’t care. What are they gonna do? Stop me going up the next time?”
Aldridge shook his head. “I don’t even know how you got here in the first place, you crazy son of a bitch.”
“It’s one of life’s little mysteries,” Coleman said, “Now, let’s get this show on the road.”
The landing site looked like a smooth, pock marked grey beach. The mountains in the distance seemed so far way - and they were. The landing had gone well and the lunar module was one more man made object on an otherwise barren and lifeless rock. Chris Aldridge did now know everything about the strange object, but he knew enough to realise that it should not have been where it was. Nobody on earth knew where it had come from, or how long it had been on the surface. An unmanned lunar orbiter had discovered the anomaly three months previously during a mapping exercise. A second unmanned probe had been launched quickly to provide a closer look. Only a handful of people on Earth knew what had ha
ppened to the second probe. None of the three men who'd exploded out of earth's atmosphere in the Apollo 20 rocket knew that the half metre sphere had disappeared completely as it had hurtled towards the anomaly. Stranger still was the fact that telemetry from the probe, which had ceased completely during its passage round the far side of the moon, had suddenly started up again.
NASA's first indication that there was a problem came when the probe's service module reported that contact with the probe had been lost. It would be a further three weeks before the probe was recovered, its location revealed by its radio signals which continued to beam signals from its impossible new location.
“Dutch Girl, this is Odyssey. We're down and solid. I think it’s about time for us to open the sealed orders. Would you concur?”
“Roger that, Chris,” the reply was instantaneous.
Aldridge reached under his tunic. The thin envelope was hidden there, fused closed where the flap contacted the back of the pale blue material that looked like paper but was not. Inside there was a small sheet of very delicate and light material. These were the sealed orders that Aldridge had carried since the launch platform. He'd not know that this would happen and when Slayton had handed him the envelope the moment had been a strange one. Deke had wanted to say something, Aldridge could tell, but the astronaut had stayed quiet.
“Alright. Now let's see what the great mystery is.”
He unfolded the orders and read the words there. They were very clear and simple. He was quiet for a long time. Jimmy Coleman stared with a wide, impatient mouth.
“Come on,” he said, eventually, “How many big words can there be?”
Aldridge folded the paper again. He exhaled hard, shaking his head.
“You're not going to believe this,” he said, “But I think you might get to meet your Martian after all.”
Nobody knew what had happened to the unmanned Freedom module. It had been sent two weeks before the launch of Michael Rose, Jimmy Coleman’ and Chris Aldridge’s mission. Freedom had been designed to make a hard landing less than a hundred metres from the anomaly, taking photographs as it hurtled, unpowered, to its ultimate destruction. But the computer controlled lunar module had lost contact with Deke Slayton in the orbiting service module only a second before it should have impacted the surface. NASA had decided, initially, that Freedom had malfunctioned at a critical moment and had stopped relaying messages. Deke Slayton was adamant that the module had disappeared from his radar about fifty metres from the lunar surface. The technical guys didn’t believe him, of course. Though they couldn’t explain it, they were adamant that the radar had somehow failed to track the Freedom during its final moments.
Beyond the Starport Adventure (Bullet Book 1) Page 1