by Jack L Knapp
Chapter Sixteen
Lights blazed beneath the huge dome, eclipsed only by the glare of sunlight on the moon’s surface. The layer of dust absorbed much of the sunlight, but men worked under the LEDs, assembling the bulldigger. Final checkout would have to wait until the machine’s tank was filled, and that in turn had to wait until the diesel fuel in the storage tank melted. The fuel was more slush than liquid at the moment.
Off to the side, lifters moved emptied shipping containers to their new home under a second protective dome. The container doors had been replaced by airlocks; off-duty workers now had their own private place to sleep. The toilet problem had not yet been solved, each container had a plastic bucket for a temporary substitute, but at least the men would no longer have to bunk down in Farside’s cargo bay. Most looked forward to having their own quarters, although some were uneasy; what if something went wrong during the night? Despite assurances from the staff, it would take time before they became accustomed to sleeping in the containers.
The habitat modules, designed to provide Moonbase’s residents with permanent living quarters, would soon be ready. The blast craters had been cleared, the broken rocks moved away by busy lifters, and the surface leveled and tamped. Chuck joined John where he watched one of the men at work.
“I’m a little concerned about that stuff,” John remarked, pointing. The worker was carefully spraying steam over the crushed rock base, cementing it into foundations for the habitat modules. A long insulated hose led from his wand to a boiler on the surface. The boiler superheated the water using sunlight, concentrated by a Fresnel lens molded into the boiler’s transparent-metal cover. Pressure kept the water from boiling until it sprayed from the wand. It then flashed momentarily to steam, coated the rocks, and refroze almost immediately. The result was rock aggregate locked together by ice, icecrete.
Chuck took a few minutes to explain.
“Concrete won’t work on the moon. It has to cure long enough for the chemical bonds to form, and you’d need to keep it warm and under pressure or the water would boil out. Cement is heavy and it has to be imported from Earth, which makes it really expensive. But rock is what we have to work with, so we need something like cement to stick the rocks together. Dolph worked with the civil engineering crew to come up with three other options. They used different names, based on what cements the rock aggregate together.”
He pointed to the workman. “Icecrete is cheap, it’s easy to install, goes in fast, and it will stay frozen indefinitely, especially here on the moon. There are two ways to install it, depending on how much water you’ve got to work with and the steam temperature when it leaves the sprayer. If you’ve got a plentiful supply of hot steam, you can warm the rocks enough for the water to penetrate down into the aggregate. That allows a kind of ‘curing’ to take place, but it takes time and you have to keep the rocks warm so the ice sets up without cracking. Letting the mix cool slowly is the key to how strong it will be. Expansion and contraction can be a problem, so you have to allow for that when you design the forms. That version of icecrete works best for foundations. A faster version uses less temperature and less steam to coat the outer rocks, meaning it sticks things together but it doesn’t penetrate deep, so it’s not as strong. We’ll use it to stabilize tunnels, spray on a lining so you don’t have to deal with falling rocks or dust.” Chuck paused long enough to make sure John was absorbing what he said.
“The second idea, ceramacrete, is also fast, but it’s not easy or cheap. The idea is to use a plasma torch to melt the outer layer of the aggregate. We might use that on Mars, but there are technical problems as well as costs. It works best for foundations where slump isn’t a problem, and it needs an atmospheric shield to keep the plasma from blowing out.
“The third option is infusacrete, which is likely to be as strong as reinforced concrete, but it’s expensive in terms of transport costs. That may change after we begin extracting metals locally,” Chuck said. “The idea is that you use long metallic threads mixed in with the aggregate, and cement it together with ice or ceramic.
“As for what your guy is building now, it shouldn’t be a problem. He’s using three ridges of icecrete for each foundation, which leaves open spaces between the ridges. The habitat floors will be warmer than the foundation, but only a relatively small part of the foundation is in contact. Ridges and hollows expand the exposed surface area, which weakens the heating effect. As soon as he’s finished, we’ll cover the ridges with plastic liners, and that will help too. The moon’s subsurface is below the freezing temperature of water, so it will take years before the icecrete softens. Maybe it never will.”
“You may be right,” commented John. “Reduced gravity also helps. The plan is to pile a meter of broken rock on top of the habitats. That’s plenty for radiation protection, thermal insulation too. No icecrete needed, just loose rubble so the rocks can expand and contract. They have to; the temperature swings from 105 degrees C during daylight, that’s five degrees above boiling, to minus 173 degrees at night. There’s plenty of loose rock around, not all of it from the explosions. There are broken chunks wherever rocks are in direct sunlight. The outer layer heats quick, meaning it expands faster than the inside, so it cracks off. We see the same thing dirtside, exfoliation. It just happens faster up here. Anyway, we couldn’t build anything like this on Earth. The insulation layer would be too heavy.”
“What’s next after you get the habitats in, John?”
“I’m thinking about buying a tunneling machine. Not one of the big ones, we’ll just have the manufacturer scale it down until the boring head is maybe four or five meters across. Tunnels will connect the habitat zones to the garages and shops. I figure to finish the tunnels by installing a floor a meter or so up from the bottom. That way we can use the space underneath for electric cables and pipes, and it gives people a flat surface to walk on. That leaves plenty of room to walk upright. Four meters of headroom should be plenty. Then spray the tunnel walls with steam and let it freeze. I’ll want to link the habitats and the garage first, then use the new tunnels for additional habitats, no top cover required. We’re also going to need spaces to grow food. People in London already do that, using the shelters from World War II. Sooner or later, Moonbase will have to become independent. Everything we use comes up from Earth, but that’s got to change.”
“I think I can find enough in the budget to cover that. Go on,” said Chuck.
“There are a few hurdles to overcome with farming plants, they’re probably going to be tall and spindly, but the agronomist thinks he can fix that by adding borax to the mineral mix. The boron strengthens the cell walls.”
John had found his niche. He was a born designer and builder, as his enthusiasm showed.
“We’ll use two large tanks, one shallow for the plants, one deeper for the fish, and circulate the water between them. That generating system was pure genius, because Moonbase is going to need a lot of electricity. The farm tunnels will need to be heated, and the grow lights will draw current too. I’ll extend the tunnels over that way.” John’s gloved hand pointed to the area he meant. “Plenty of room to expand the farm.”
“The fish in the second tank should do fine, they adapt to reduced gravity. We may also need separate hatching tanks for the fish eggs, then transfer them to another tank until they’re fingerlings. They have to be separated, otherwise the small fish will eat the eggs and bigger fish will eat the small ones. You’ll need to hire a fish biologist as soon as the tanks are installed.”
“Six months from now, we’ll be harvesting our own fish and vegetables. We’ll grind up all the leftover waste and add it to the fish tank. There will also be other nutrients, picked up from the plant farm; that’s where we’ll put the composted waste. The water circulates between the tanks, the tilapia eat the plant waste and algae, the plants will use the fish waste and sludge from the sewage systems. The ecosystem will need a bit of judicious tweaking, adding things like snails and so forth, but it sh
ouldn’t be a problem. Add that to your list, Chuck, you’ll need an ecologist to run the farm system.”
“John, I’ll need professional scientists and technicians for all of it,” replied Chuck. “You build it, Martha will find the people.”
“If we can find water ice, we can easily electrolyze that into hydrogen and oxygen. Chuck, you give me a year or two and Moonbase will be a complete, self-sustaining colony.”
John paused and sipped from the water tube by his jaw.
“Question for you, Chuck: plants and fish aren’t a problem, but what are you going to do about human changes? I’ve been reading the medical reports; there will be bone loss, and that’s just the start. Hearts, lungs, for that matter the overall circulatory system will get weaker. That’s just what they know about, there will almost certainly be other problems. What I’m saying is the base can be self-supporting except for people, but they can’t stay here forever. You might need shifts, maybe replace the staff as often as every two or three weeks.”
“That’s my problem, John. Your problem is to get it built and functioning. What about you?”
“I don’t know. I’ll probably do what Dolph suggested, spend a week or two on a ship now and then. The rest of the time, I’ll try to exercise more. That might slow down the bone loss, and for sure it will keep the circulatory system healthier. But it has to be vigorous exercise, something that gets the heart rate up. I’ll have to think about that. The usual kinds of exercise probably won’t work. The elastic undersuits will help, I think.”
“Work on it, John. I don’t want my people getting sick.”
“I like the way I feel right now, Chuck. The fake legs don’t bother me at all, what with the low gravity. They clip on outside the suit legs, of course, but all I had to do was modify the legs to cover my stumps, then add boot clips. It’s almost like that explosion never happened. Anyway, you promised I could get my pilot’s certificate if I built Moonbase, and that might be even better than living permanently on Luna.”
“Something to look forward to,” the workman chimed in. He had been listening to the conversation.
“The icecrete is set, so all I need to do is put the plastic jacket over it. Feel like giving me a hand, boss?”
#
Chuck flew in again three days later. John was taking a break when Lina landed, so Chuck radioed him and asked if he could join them in the crew cabin.
“Not much room in here, is there?”
“I don’t need much, John. Do you know Frodo?”
“Seen him around. Howdy.” John extended his hand. “Good to see you up and around, Will.”
Will nodded, but remained silent. Chuck glanced at him worriedly. Would he do better in Brisbane with Frenchy? Chuck shook his head, a tiny movement; if that didn’t work, he had no idea what to do next. Could they afford to keep Will on as a director if he was too nervous to fly? Would he be willing to sell his interest in the company? For that matter, could they afford to pay the billions that Will’s share was now worth? Frenchy was still chairman of the board; he would decide. Hopefully.
“Do you want to look around outside? The bulldigger is almost finished with the last section of trenches, and the first loop is already providing power. There’s nothing to see behind where the bulldigger is working, just moon rubble and dust over the fuel rods. I can show you the pump house if you’d like. The pumps are running off the first pair of Stirling-cycle generators. We’ll have the remaining generators going by next week.”
“Will, want to come with us?” Will just shook his head, still not speaking. Chuck followed John out the airlock and motioned for him to shut off his suit radio. Placing his helmet in contact with John’s, he spoke, letting the vibrations pass from helmet to helmet.
“I’m worried, John. Did you ever see anything like this when you were in the Army? I don’t know what’s going on with Will, it might be some kind of PTSD.”
John shook his head. “I can’t say, Chuck. I saw guys with the thousand-meter stare, you knew they had gone about as far as they could go, but this is different. Will was a pilot, but now he’s afraid to fly?”
“It’s more than that. He doesn’t get nervous until we leave the atmosphere. It’s like the stars are making him afraid.”
“I never heard of anything like this, but maybe pilots knew of it. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to leave him in Brisbane for a few days. The new house is big enough, there are extra rooms. Frenchy outdid himself; there’s a live-in staff and they won’t have a problem taking care of one more. I can only get there on weekends anyway, so that’s the only time the staff will have four adults in the house. I hope Frenchy can bring him around, because I’m at the end of my wits.”
“It might be good for Frenchy, too. He spends a lot of time, maybe too much time, with the kids, according to what you told me.”
“Yeah. Well, let’s go look at your project. Turn your radio back on, please.”
They soon arrived at the garage. Four of the lifters were parked there, each connected to the battery charger, still drawing power from Farside. Chuck looked at the meters and selected a lifter with sixty-five percent charge.
“Should be enough. Want to drive?”
“No, you take it. I’ll hang on to the back seat. We won’t be out long, you can see where the bulldigger is. Just follow the dust cloud!” John chuckled.
Less than a minute later, Chuck brought the lifter to a hover and watched the machine. “How can you tell it’s operating? I see the boom moving, but there’s no sound, no diesel smoke...
“Look at the treads. See how the dust is vibrating? We can’t hear it, but you’re seeing the vibrations from the diesel, spreading through the tracks. As long as you can see those, the engine is running.”
“Hard to believe, a diesel engine running on the moon.”
“I know. The engineer that thought this up was either a genius or batshit crazy. For the moment, I’m going with genius, but it wouldn’t take much to change my mind!”
#
Chuck asked Will if he wanted to fly copilot on the trip back to Earth, but he refused. He spent most of the trip looking down at his hands, clenched together in his lap. He finally glanced around after reentry, when they were on the final leg of the trip. The Lina was descending through 80,000 feet and the Queensland coast was in sight before his hands relaxed. Chuck watched him glance out the side, then look up at the display panel.
“You’ve flown one of these, Will, a larger one. You still don’t remember?”
“No, I...there’s something, but it just won’t come. I remember a man hitting me, but nothing after that. Other things are cloudy, so I can’t tell if they’re dreams or real. Some have to be dreams, but how can I tell? They all seem real.”
“Just relax then, we’ll be on the ground in a few minutes. Frenchy is meeting us. He won’t drive, neither will my wife, not yet, so they’re using Bert as a driver. I stay home with Lina and the babies most of the time. Frenchy has been spending a lot of time out of the country. He says it’s something to do with finance, but whatever it is, he’s keeping it close to his vest.”
“I don’t follow business news as much as I once did; I used to read the Wall Street Journal, newspapers, The Economist every week, but that stopped after I got involved with the company. I just didn’t have the time. I keep getting the papers and magazines because I never bothered to cancel the subscriptions. Did you ever meet Sol Goldman, the CEO of that company Frenchy had his money in? Before New Frontiers, I mean?”
“Not that I recall. Frenchy began pulling his money out to finance New Frontiers, and I don’t recall that he ever mentioned Goldman after that. No, I’m sure I never met the man. I wouldn’t mind, because I’d dearly love to punch him in the mouth. Frenchy is convinced he was behind a lot of what went wrong while we were starting the company.”
“You can forget that idea. He’s dead, suicide, according to the paper.”
“Really? What caused
him to do that, I wonder?”
“Depression, according to the doctors. They gave him something to calm him down and he overdosed. Some think it was accidental, others say it was deliberate. Even the people he exercised with...he had a regular date at a gym to play squash, and he golfed...began avoiding him. The paper didn’t say why, just that he became withdrawn. Anyway, he’s gone. I wonder if Frenchy knows?”
Chuck considered the news while monitoring their descent. If Goldman had been the one behind Lina’s rape and the arson attempt, good riddance. But soon calls began coming in over the radio, providing landing instructions and telling him where to meet customs agents, so the thought slipped his mind. A short time later, Lina locked in the hangar, he met Frenchy and the three set off for home.
Chapter Seventeen
A month went by before Chuck returned to the moon. Moonbase was livable; food and water still had to be brought up from Earth, but the power system was working and the first five habitats were in place around the central crater. A protective dome covered the crater; it would be sealed to the surface and pressurized later on, but for now, only the habitats held air. A second dome protected people working on the surface, and the third covered the shipping-container living area.
Chuck parked Lina near Farside and shut down the impellers. The older ship’s tanks had been refilled; she now served as Moonbase’s emergency vehicle should something go catastrophically wrong. The power cable was still in place, but now it drew power from the fuel-rod plant to keep Farside’s batteries charged and the fuel cells warmed, meaning they could be brought on line in less than a minute.
He attempted to radio John as he left Lina’s cabin, but got no answer. Puzzled, Chuck checked his suit radio, but everything seemed normal. He listened to messages as the workers talked back and forth, so finally he radioed one of the foremen to meet him near the big tent where the bulldigger was parked.
Chuck spoke to the foreman as he approached.