Live From the Moon
23 January 1986
Moonbase Outpost
Expedition 6
Day 18
It was a rusty old saw in the Public Relations office that astronauts were rarely good on camera. The press ate up any chance to cover a live space mission because the public was still impressed with views of the Earth and lunar landscapes. However, as a general rule, astronauts, tending to come from academic or military backgrounds, were not entertainers.
There had been a few exceptions over the years. John Glenn had had enough charisma to become Vice President. Jim Lovell had spoken eloquently about his time on the Moon. The video of Al Bean teaching kids about painting during his Skylab flight had been a golden moment for the space program. But those men were the exceptions, not the rule.
That was one of the reasons that Cale Fletcher was the only astronaut whose photo hung in the public affairs office.
Fletcher had been a rookie astronaut on
Constellation in 1983. He had done an EVA to replace a broken solar panel on the FarSight II probe that had been stranded in low Earth orbit. The incident had been a textbook example of a bad story turned good. The
Constellation crew had given NASA a come-from-behind victory and that had turned into a great appearance on The Tonight Show. When FarSight II sent back photos from Mars orbit in early 1984, Fletcher went back on to show America the treasures their space program had discovered. Unsurprisingly, America found the astronaut more interesting than the rusted desert he’d come to talk about.
Cale Fletcher was what was referred to in his hometown as a good ol’ boy. Fletcher, who hailed from the great metropolis of Timmonsville, South Carolina (population 1,200) had a childhood that read like rejected scenes from a pulp adventure novel.
According to his rambling, autobiographical campfire stories, at one time or another he’d been struck by lightning, shot, wrestled an alligator and had stolen his father’s crop duster for a joyride when he was only twelve years old.
Whether any of those stories were true really didn’t matter. One of Fletcher’s favorite openers was, “Not all my true stories actually happened.” Still, Johnny Carson had been charmed and if Johnny liked it, America liked it.
NASA’s human resources people had verified that in his teenage years, he’d driven a stock car on short tracks to earn tuition money for Clemson. At Clemson he’d been a walk-on wide receiver and had been considered for the NFL, but when he went undrafted, Fletcher decided to use the engineering degree that he’d come away with.
After a year of tuning engines for a NASCAR team, on a dare, Cale Fletcher had sent in a resume to NASA.
Now, a decade removed from the green grasses and orange crowds of Death Valley, Cale Fletcher found himself on a cold grey rock, adding another story to his colorful repertoire of tall tales.
With six landings of the new Eagle moon shuttle under their belt, NASA now felt comfortable enough letting an observer view the landing from the ground. Mission rules had always demanded that any landing take place far from any hardware or personnel for safety, but the chance to broadcast a live landing, seen from the ground, was too tempting to pass up. With the arrival of Expedition 7 tonight, the agency had a chance to put on quite a show without adding much in the way of unnecessary risk.
In total, with the arrival of Expedition 6, there had been eighteen crewed landings on the Moon and none of them had ever been witnessed by an observer on the lunar surface. Indeed, rovers had provided views of old Apollo LEM’s taking off, but there had been no way to record a landing, even with the unmanned ships that had preceded the later Apollos.
The networks had cleared the two hours of primetime and Eagle IV was due to touch down at 9:45pm Eastern.
After a polite introduction from Walter Cronkite, footage was shown from the launch of
Adventure out of Cape Kennedy three weeks ago. The viewers at home then found their televisions filled with the image of Cale Fletcher, giving a friendly wave from inside the cramped logistics module of Moonbase. The two-second pause had intentionally been left in the broadcast to demonstrate how far away from home they were.
“Hey, y’all. This is Cale Fletcher talking to you live from the Moon, here at Moonbase on the lunar South Pole. Let me show you around.”
“We’re starting our little tour in the galley. This is where we cook and have meetings. It’s the only place with enough space for the whole crew to gather outside our bunks. At some point, NASA will have to send us up a nice conference room.”
“The kitchen, as you can see, is pretty sparse, but we’ve got a microwave and a fridge. That beats my college dorm room by miles. Over here we’ve got an exercise bike that, believe it or not, actually provides power to a couple of backup batteries. It’s not really critical, but it’s a fun little project to see who can put the most charge in the backups.”
“Now this little piece of heaven is our pride and joy. Don’t tell the fellas up on Skydock, but Moonbase is the site of the very first shower off of the Earth.”
Fletcher stepped inside but didn’t start the water. “You can see, it’s more or less just like what you’ve got back on Earth. The only difference is what happens to the water before it comes in and after it goes out. We do an awful lot of recycling up here. And honestly, it’s best not to think about it.”
“Nate James was the first guy to get to use this when it got set up back in December. We were gonna put up a little plaque to mark the occasion but Nate put the kibosh on that.”
“Over here we’ve got more storage. You can see everything has a proper label and we’ve got charts to help us find things in a pinch. This module was designed to handle anything we couldn’t think of until we get a little more elbow room. We can do everything from first aid to machine repairs. It’s also where Carol and Dieter play chess on Sundays.”
Dieter Schleich, who was the camera operator for today, gave a friendly nod at his mention.
“Let’s head over into the geo lab. We’ll see how Carol and Nate are doing with the rocks.”
There was a pause as Fletcher used the grab bar to lift and pull himself through the small circular hatch that connected the logistics module with the science lab. Dieter passed him the camera and Fletcher narrated Dieter’s subsequent squeeze through the hatchway.
“Hey, here we have the famous Lunar rock hounds. Specially imported from Earth. We keep a pair of geologists out here pretty much on every crew. Nate and Carol are always looking out for the most interesting rocks. They bring ‘em back, break ‘em down, figure out all their dirty little secrets, and then, if there’s nothing more to get out of ‘em… well, I’ll save that little surprise for the end of the tour.
“Carol, I’m not gonna bother you for too long while you’re working, but tell us about some of the stuff you’ve found.”
Carol turned from her workbench, sidestepped Nate who was bent over a microscope. She reached up to grab a sample bag out of a cabinet near the curved ceiling. She held up the bag to the light in front of the camera.
“This was chipped off of a nice little piece of basalt that Dieter brought in last week from the northern pass. If you look closely, you can see, this is actually a deposit of copper, which is pretty rare here on the Moon. The composition of most of the rocks we find is primarily silicon…”
Cale interrupted, “You hear that, all you folks in California. We’ve got the
real Silicon Valley up here, everywhere you look.”
Carol was startled a bit, but continued, “Well, yes. We get lots of silicon and magnesium. About 10% iron and a bit of aluminum as well, but copper is unusual for us to find.”
“Can you tell us how it got here?” Cale asked.
“Well, that’s always the hardest question, isn’t it. Copper, like every element, is born in the hearts of stars. The materials of the solar system had a semi-random dispersion during the formation. The atoms that made up this little chunk are quite old, but we’re still figuring out exactly how old. When we get an approximate date, we’ll have a better chance of figuring out if copper had some part to play in the Moon’s early history, or if this was simply a souvenir dropped of a comet or meteor. We’re taking this sample back to Earth for more study.”
Carol put the bag away and Cale and Dieter made their way to the far end of the lab, “The white coats back at home will look over all the samples that Carol and Nate bring back. One of the nice things about NASA is that we make all our findings public so, in a couple of years, you’ll be able to look up a paper or something that will tell you whatever was discovered about that strange little rock they found.”
As they moved to the next hatch, Fletcher continued. “Let me show you one of the fun bits of our little station here.” He slid through the hatch and squatted over a small circular platform between two modules. “Folks, this here is an access port that we have for emergencies. If something should cut us off from the forward airlock, we’ve got this access up here.”
Above Fletcher, the camera showed an access hatch in the top of the space.
“If we ever need to get out and for some reason can’t do it the old fashioned way, our rovers outside can actually drive up the slope of the base and connect to this little hatchway here. From there, we’d just ferry people over to the Eagle lander and we’d be able to get home just fine. This is just one of the hundreds of safety systems we have here on Moonbase.”
“Now, let’s take a look at the bunks. Sorry about the mess.”
Dieter and Cale moved into the sleeping module. The long cylinder was lined with cots that had sliding panels for privacy. 8 cots, 4 on each side, filled the space. At the rear was a pair of workstations. One had papers and the other had a collection of spare parts and a half-completed device that Cale had been working on earlier that day. There was a water faucet and sink in the corner.
“Unlike the space stations, lunar gravity allows for us to have a lot of creature comforts that we are used to at home. Having a predictable flow for water really helps our internal designs. But in one-sixth gravity, we can still have some fun. Take a look.”
Fletcher took an orange plastic cup from the shelf, filled it about halfway with water, then stood in front of the camera. He poured a splash of water out at around eye level, then quickly moved the cup down and caught the flow, just before it hit the ground.
“Whoa, yeah. Took me about ten tries to get that right, but it’s a fun trick. In about 30 years, we’ll have some hotels up here and you all can give it a try then.” Fletcher’s grin shined all the way back to Earth.
“Okay, now, we’re going to pass through the logistics module. That’s where we get our air and heat and water. Please don’t touch anything while we’re in there.”
They passed into the next module, which was cramped with tanks and machinery. “Welcome to my office, folks. The machines in here are what keeps us alive and it’s my job to give them whatever they need. For the most part, we don’t have too many breakdowns. But that’s because we’re very careful about maintenance.”
Fletcher pulled a clipboard off of a hanger on the side of a tank. “You can see here, we are very particular about our work and our schedules. On Moonbase, safety is always first. And the best way to be safe is to keep your life support systems at the top of their game.”
Under the stark, bright lights of the logistics module, Dieter and Cale made their way forward to the last hatch, “Okay. We’re gonna go in here and suit up. We’re gonna show you folks at home some of the spacesuits and then Dieter and I are going to get dressed.”
Cale walked his audience through some of the features of the new walking suits. The single-piece suits were modeled off of the Soviet designs, which was politely left out of the broadcast’s commentary. Viewers got to see how the backpacks were stored and charged with air and water from the logistics module.
“Okay, everyone. Putting on a suit can be a tricky little process. And as much as we love your company, Dieter and I are gonna send you back to Earth for a bit while we suit up. We’ll be back in a while, broadcasting live, from the surface of the Moon. Stick around. The main event is coming up.”
23 January 1986
Eagle IV Lander
Orbital Inclination: 88°
Altitude: 75 mi
Despite the fact that now more than one Eagle lander was in space and operational, the schedules of the missions had determined that both Eagles would never be occupied at the same time, at least for the foreseeable future. With that understanding, there was no need to put a designator after the name “Eagle” for standard radio communications.
“Houston, this is Eagle. We are free and flying. Are they ready to go out at Huffman?”
“Roger, copy you Eagle. The pattern is clear and the runway is open. You are go for powered descent.”
23 January 1986
Moonbase Outpost
Expedition 6
Day 18
From a camera mounted on the front of the sandrail, two figures in space suits waved with the Earth centered between them, over their shoulders.
“Hey everyone. Can’t get rid of us that easily. This is Cale and Dieter again, we are outside now, as you can see, and we’re gonna go for a little ride. Let us show you the new car.”
Dieter Schleich, a notoriously camera-shy scientist from the ESA, eagerly grabbed the camera off of the sand rail’s front fender. Cale showed off the features of the most fun vehicle in NASA’s fleet.
“We built this rig from parts that were brought up from the last few missions. It’s good for quick little scouting trips. We use it to get to some of our sensor packages that are far out from the main base. As you can see, it just holds two people and a little bit of gear. Solar cells here on the top for power. The batteries and motor aren’t much different from what you’d find in a golf cart back home.”
Fletcher and Schleich mounted up, Dieter taking the wheel in the left-hand seat. Fletcher took the camera and aimed straight ahead.
“Okay folks, we’re ready to head out to Huffman Prairie. Dieter, take us out.”
The camera jolted a bit as the little sand rail got going. It took a beat, but Cale managed to get a good, steady shot. The grey landscape rolled by and the sleek ridge of Shackleton loomed to his right. On Earth, this 10 mph trip would have felt agonizingly slow, but a quarter-million miles away, this was breakneck speed. Worthy of the first Lunar Grand Prix.
“This next expedition that is coming down is going to have some fun things to do. You can see Rover 2 over there. We’ve got it parked and the batteries are charging because there’s a mission for it coming up.”
“To send a radio signal back to Earth, you have to be able to see the Earth. When the Earth is below our horizon, we lose our steady contact with Houston. The good people in Mission Control don’t like that very much, because they like to keep an eye on us. That’s why, a few days from now, my friends Sarah Lange and Sally Ride are going on a little road trip to that mountain way over yonder.”
Cale zoomed in on the view of Earth almost kissing the horizon. “You see, that big hill, the one that comes up right under the Earth there, is a place called Malapert Mountain. Malapert is another big crater, like Shackelton here. The mountain there is part of the crest of the crater. And Malapert is a special piece of real estate. At the peak of the mountain, you can always see the Earth, and you can always see our base here at the South Pole.”
Fletcher zoomed out slowly, ever the showman, and turned to show part of the solar array on the crater rim above him. “While Sarah and Sally are road tripping, some of the rest of the crew will be installing a new radio transmitter that was delivered inside our geology lab you saw earlier. Sally and Sarah will put up another transmitter over on top of Malapert. When both are installed, they’ll give us a clear line of sight all the way back to Earth, and the folks in Mission Control won’t worry about us so much.”
“It’s going to be a fun little road trip. About a week on the road. It’ll be a big test of our ability to navigate and monitor the progress of long-term excursions. I gotta tell you, I’m pretty jealous of these women. They’re going to see some really amazing things out there.”
The sand rail turned, following a set of well-worn tracks in the lunar soil. As they came around, a small platform appeared off to the side, Cale swung the camera around.
“This station is where we take the rejected geology samples. Can you see the little rock pile over there? The box there is a prototype of an oxygen generation plant. We are testing out technology to separate the oxygen embedded in the rocks and hopefully use it for air back at the base. Once we get the kinks worked out, we’re going to start figuring out how to harvest heavy metals. Hopefully, in a few years, we’ll be able to start building new modules rather than flying them up from Earth. It’s a lot cheaper to live off the land. The pioneers taught us that.”
Farther around the bend of the crater, with Moonbase behind them, the pair of astronauts came to a flat section of open ground. It was clearly marked with lights at the corners. The lights pulsed from red to white and back again. Dieter steered the vehicle up onto a small mesa on the left. Cale took a clamp to put the camera on the structure of the sand rail and then gave it an angle that would show the ground and the black sky above.
“Welcome to Huffman Prairie. For those of you who are aviation buffs, you may remember, Huffman Prairie was the site of the Wright Brothers’ flight testing after they got back from Kitty Hawk. This spot where the Eagle landers come down has been named in its honor. Personally, I’d have preferred Kitty Hawk, but Thomas Stafford, on Apollo 21, he named the site when he was here back in ’73.”
Several degrees above the horizon, a small point of light began to grow. The incoming ship was right on the line with the camera angle. Over the next few minutes, the point of light grew larger and larger until it was clearly visible as a cylinder with latticework landing legs extending from each corner. The spacecraft approached with its main engines pointed in the direction of travel, so the viewers at home were treated to the sight of rocket motors firing right at them. Even from miles away, the light was impressive.
Fletcher had recommended forgoing the commentary for the final sequence and just letting the people of Earth listen to the radio transmissions from the crew on board the lander.
The low-angled light of the sun gave long shadows as the ship came down. As the ship leveled out at about three hundred feet above the ground, Dieter took the camera up and zoomed in a bit. The complete lack of atmosphere gave a perfectly clear image. With a good enough television, a viewer at home could have found the seams of the welds that gave the little Eagle lander its structure.
The spindly spider lowered itself slowly to the cleared out patch of regolith below. On board, the astronauts gave a good commentary of their decreasing altitude and the procedures that defined the final phase of powered descent. Unbeknownst to Cale and Dieter, the producers back on Earth had intercut their live shot with some views from the Eagle’s cockpit.
The show was exactly what NASA had hoped for. Entertaining and flawless. The live broadcast of a ship landing on the Moon was a grand demonstration of why the American people had invested so much treasure.
2 March 1986
Clipper Landing Facility
Kennedy Space Center
28° 36′ 54″ N 80° 41′ 40″ W
Hank Patterson stood by the black sedan and looked to the northwest. He checked his watch. It wasn’t time yet. In truth, he doubted he’d be able to see much before the last few moments of the flight. Around him were a smattering of Hadden VP’s. Patterson had told his people to go to the hotel and sleep. There would be plenty to do in the morning, and the technicians of Kennedy would handle things until then. Some of his engineers complied. A couple wanted to watch their baby come in from California.
Once the carrier was down, they would have about four hours to get the bird off her back. Once that was done, they could throw a tarp on her and drag her over to the CPF.
They had chosen to bring her in after midnight for privacy. The hopes were that most of northern Florida would be asleep or partying. Spring break hadn’t quite gotten here yet, but that was a point in their favor. Loading her up hadn’t been difficult. You can always close an Air Force Base. But landing at America’s only civilian spaceport was a bit more of a challenge if you didn’t want to advertise your secret military spaceship.
One of the last orders of business back in Palmdale had been to take the name off the side. The Helvetica lettering was the brightest thing on the fuselage. The original chosen name,
Shadow, had been deemed too ominous for its new mission. President Reagan would pick out a new moniker once the final modifications were done.
There was a buzz of activity behind him. Patterson turned to see what was happening. A new set of sedans were arriving. These were unmarked, but after they parked, they disgorged a small faction of military men. The crisp blue uniforms announced that these were Air Force officers. The representatives from NASA greeted them. Patterson let the VP’s do their thing. It didn’t concern him.
Truthfully, the only thing that had brought him out here was the vague, unacknowledged fear that
Shadow would not fare well on top of the 747 that had carried the other Clippers.
Shadow’s wings were not attached, and now would never be. He worried the whole platform would be unstable. They hadn’t had time to do a lot of wind tunnel testing. It was considered overkill because the only time
Shadow would make this trip was tonight.
“Here she comes,” called one man. The gathered groups turned and faced the western skies. The 747 carrier was indeed coming over. Her navigation lights were clearly visible. She cut a perfect black in the grey overcast night sky. The big carrier and her little cargo were clearly holding up well. They’d made it across the continent. Hank Patterson watched as they finished their journey together.
Behind him, the Air Force officers had broken out a series of papers. A pair of NASA officials were quickly signing them. A notary was standing by to witness the signatures. Hank didn’t need to see the papers to know what was happening.
Shadow’s mission had changed from war to peace. With the utter collapse of the SDI program, the Air Force had begun quietly signing over assets to NASA. It was preferable to mothballing them entirely.
Hank shook the hands of his engineers. They were given a rather warm acknowledgment from the NASA folks who had come out in the small hours of the morning. Already, the carrier was taxiing over to the lattice-work rig that would dismount and lower
Shadow off of the larger aircraft. Before dawn came to Florida, she would be heading indoors.
At the Clipper Processing Facility, the technicians from Hadden and NASA would add reinforcements in critical locations, strip excess weight, modify the cockpit controls, and beef up the life support systems. If all went well, later this year his team would stand in a spot not far from here and watch their beloved little Clipper depart the Earth forever.