I've started what might be my next book (well, alternate history at any rate). It's called Moonlab, and covers Project Moonlab during its run of 1974-1981. NASA goes with continuing the moon missions in the 1970s instead of the Earth orbital infrastructure path that it turned into a thirty year detour of the space program. I better not get started on the problems with the so-called "reusable" (rebuildable would be a more accurate description) space shuttle program, or I'll be ranting for a while. Anyways, here's the first chapter of the outline. The finished work will require a rewrite or three, and there is no projection on when it'll be finished.
I)
Prelude to Moonlab
The road to Moonlab leads back to 1961. Shortly after
Alan Shepard’s fifteen minute flight, President John Kennedy announced that
NASA would land a man on the moon and return him to Earth by the end of the
decade. Whether or not Kennedy had 1969 or 1970 in mind as the end of the
decade may never be known. What is known was that everyone in NASA thought the
President was quite mad. America had no even reached orbit, and they were
supposed to be the Soviet Union to the moon?
The challenges faced to reach the moon ranged from
laughable to serious. In the beginning, NASA doctors had serious worries about
whether or not an astronaut could even survive weightlessness for the duration
of the voyage. Engineers questioned whether or not rendezvous was even
possible. More serious was the problem in extravehicular activity. EVAs during
the Gemini missions put several astronauts at risk. It was not discovered that
the real problem was in the initial training for spacewalking until Buzz Aldwin
threw a space capsule into a pool and dove in after it. Though not weightless,
moving with the buoyancy of a suit in water mimics moving in space. So many
technical obstacles lay ahead that whole books could be written about every
aspect of Projects Mercury and Gemini.
The biggest stumbling block on the road to the moon came
in the form of Apollo I. A fire in the oxygen-rich atmosphere of a low quality
capsule all but gutted it, killing three astronauts in the process. The fire
forced NASA and North American-Rockwell engineers to redesign Apollo from the
ground up, delaying the first successful launch by more than eighteen months.
During this period, initial plans for Moonlab were being drawn up, and would
require a capsule that could stay in orbit in stand-by mode for months on end.
Fuel cells small enough to blast into space lacked the capacity, forcing NASA
to go with solar panels for Block III Apollo. When launched in October 1968,
Apollo VII worked like a dream. Apollo VIII was originally poised to run the
first tests of the Lunar Excursion Module in Earth orbit. It was an essential
step in the process for if the LEM did not maneuver as advertised then the
1969/70 deadline would not be met.
Months prior to the launch, the CIA discovered a massive
N1 sitting on a Soviet launch pad undergoing preparation for launch. The N1 was
the Soviet equivalent of the Saturn V, with the express purpose of placing a
Soyuz spacecraft into lunar orbit. It was feared that the Soviets were
preparing for their first moonshot. It was a founded fear, for that was
precisely what the Soviets were planning. Little did the CIA or NASA know that
the N1 was plagued with technical difficulties, and the first circumnavigation
of the moon by Cosmonauts did not occur until June 1969, six months after Apollo
VIII returned from its ten orbits of Luna, and nearly a month after Apollo X
returned from testing the LEM in lunar orbit.
When it became clear to Soviet leaders that the first man
on the moon would not be a cosmonaut, plans went into effect to tromp the
impending American landing. One of the Soviet back-up plans came in the form of
a sample return probe. While it would only return a few grams of regolith
(compared to the eventual American return of 439 kg of lunar material during
the Apollo Program), Soviet leaders hoped it would also offer a propaganda
coup, showing that they brought back lunar samples at a fraction of the price
of the Americans. Luna 15 touched down two days before Apollo XI, and despite
some technical difficulties, it successfully launched its sample return, which
beat the Americans back to Earth by mere hours. Unfortunately, after re-entry,
the parachute on the return capsule failed to deploy properly, causing it to
land at greater speed than designed. While the sample survived the crash, it
was too contaminated to be of much use. With their own effort to one-up the
Americans over, Premier Brezhnev was forced to call President Nixon and
congratulate the United States on its amazing achievement. It was by no means
admitting defeat.
The Soviets launched three more sample return missions,
all landing successfully, but most people outside of the Soviet Bloc did not
notice their achievement, or if they did, they simply did not care. Probes
bringing back grams of dust did not excite the imagination the same way as
seeing an astronaut walking across the lunar surface. Though they were no
clearly behind the American space effort, the Soviets pushed forward with their
own manned landing, first with 1971 as the target, then 1972 and finally settling
for 1974. The first cosmonaut, Alexi Leonov, did not step foot upon the moon
until the last of the Apollo missions departed for Earth, and only two months
before the first manned Moonlab mission arrived.
If not for the continued Soviet push for the moon, it is
entirely possible that the moon program would have been canceled after the
final Apollo mission. In 1970, U.S. President Richard Nixon had three options
placed in front of him by NASA. 1) Development of Earth orbital infrastructure.
2) Continued exploration of the moon. 3) Mission to Mars. The third option was
considered, and with elements of NASA and the aerospace industry continuing to
push for the development of Nova, it might have worked. Earth orbit would have
been the cheapest option; even with the projected development cost of a
“reusable” space shuttle, it would still be 20% less than Moonlab. Nixon chose
the second option as the image of the Soviet Union getting a toehold on the
moon while NASA was puttering around in Earth orbit worried him. It would have
been a public-relations disaster.
One of the first orders of business with Project Moonlab
was the development of a new booster, which began years before the first
Moonlab budget was approved by Congress. The original LEM proved to be one of
the most reliable vehicles in NASA’s garage, but Moonlab required for at least
three astronauts to be on the moon, as well as an ability to lift at least a
hundred kilograms of lunar rocks and dust back into orbit. The Nova clique
pressed hard in 1968 for their monster rocket to be reconsidered. It was
originally designed as part of the Direct Ascent approach to landing on the
moon.
The Saturn V was still a new booster, and before its
unshakable launch record was established, engineers were looking for ways to
improve its lift capacity. For a second generation LEM, they expanded the third
stage of the Saturn V for 50% greater volume. This required modification of the
first and second stages, mostly in the form of fuel capacity. The Saturn Vb
stood ten meters taller than its original counterpart, and would carry the
newer, twenty tonne Lunar Excursion Module. Without the Apollo Command/Service
Module, the capacity extended to fifty tonnes. The theoretical lifting capacity
of the Saturn Vb was much greater than fifty tonnes, but NASA engineers decided
to mark that as the limit of the Moonlab Habitat Module and the Supply Modules.
The ultimate decision lay in the funding. With the
initial designs for Project Moonlab happened before Congress approved the
funding in 1971. The Saturn Vb would cost far less to develop than Nova, which
was looking more and more like a bottomless pit. The Nova booster would not be
scrapped for its capacity would be ideal for a Mars mission. Engineers working
on the Saturn family of boosters often joked about the delays and cost overruns
of Nova; saying that man would already be on Mars by the time that monster was
ready for its first flight.
One of the easiest engineering aspects of Moonlab was the
Moonlab Habitat Module. Unlike the Lunar Excursion Modules, Moonlab would never
have need to lift-off from the surface of the moon. It would be making a
one-way voyage. The absence of an ascent stage opened up more room in the
module for supplies and living space. The HM was divided into four sections.
The bottom most section contained the descent engine and other equipment used
only for landing. After a decade of unmanned probes and the failures that
followed them, engineers knew exactly what not to do when they designed the
HM’s automated landing system. Initially only one HM was planned, but being the
conservative society it is, NASA ordered two more as back up should the first
crash.
The second level contained the habitat’s life support
equipment. Mass restrictions prohibited six months’ worth of water and oxygen
from arriving with the HM. Instead, half of the Moonlab missions would be
unmanned supply ships, similar in design to Moonlab itself, albeit scaled down
to 70% the size of the HM. The Supply Modules only needed to carry the goods
and not support the lives of three astronauts for extended periods of time,
although they could serve as emergency shelters. In fact the first SM was
equipped with a lead-lined compartment in the event of solar flares or other
radiation events. Moonlab II would continue serving this function until the
arrival of the inflatable habitat.
The third level of Moonlab housed experiments and other
scientific equipment. It was in effect the lab within Moonlab. Workspace was
limited to a four meter radius. The workspace proved to be so limited, that
addition laboratories, each the size of a small walk-in closet, were included
in future supply missions. Unlike those micro-labs, Moonlab itself came with an
independent airlock, allowing access to the surface without having to
depressurize the whole HM for each EVA. The SM does not have this luxury. Once
the inflatable shelter was constructed on the moon, astronauts would begin
transferring the experiments to a much larger venue.
The upper most section of Moonlab would be the
astronauts’ home away from home for at least six months. Its volume was only
half that of the lab, and astronauts would be allocated a small locker for
personal affects, as well as what was little more than a hammock. Bathroom
facilities would be minimal as a need to conserve water eliminated any
possibility of long showers. The astronauts would be the new frontiersmen,
roughing it in the lunar wilderness. The biggest challenge to the psychology of
the three man crew would come during the fourteen day long lunar nights, when
astronauts would be confined to its warmth. Moonlab also featured an early
attempt at a partially closed loop in its water supply. Water from cleaning
would be ran through filters and purified. The process of converting urine into
water was a little more complicated, and despite its effectiveness, the
astronauts were reluctant to consume the recycled water. Much of it went to
watering the plants in the laboratory.
The inflatable habitat was first envisioned as an emergency
shelter. Before its arrival, a large, industrial rover named the Moondozer
would arrive on a supply run. It could either be tele-operated or an astronaut
could take over manually on the surface. Its function was solely to excavate a
trench long enough and wide enough for the “balloon” to lie down in, and then
to bury it beneath a layer of regolith, affording it greater protection against
radiation. Afterwards, it would remain on the surface until further need of its
services arose. Seeing as the Moondozer could not even reach 1 KPH, it was all
but useless in exploring the moon.
Much of the hardware for Moonlab would be new by 1974,
though the means of arrival was well proven by then. Instead of developing a
new spacecraft, Apollo would be used to ferry the astronauts and samples
between Earth and Luna. The Apollo/Moonlab CM was of the Block III design,
equipped with solar panels and batteries. With missions of at least six months,
conventional fuel cells would be too heavy to last the duration. For the Apollo
missions, the Block II CM, with its forty day capacity, was more than enough
for a two-week mission. Even on stand-by mode, the Block II would run out of
power before the astronauts returned to the surface.
Engineers argued over whether or not such a CM would last
six months in lunar orbit unoccupied. The Soviets proved the use of solar power
with their Soyuz missions, but even those lasted less than a month, and always
with a crew. Before solar powered Apollo was allowed to fly to the moon, NASA
planners set up two unmanned missions. Apollo XVIII began its six month,
unmanned mission on January 3, 1973. Once placed in orbit, operators on the
ground powered down the capsule to stand-by mode and waited. On June 17, Apollo
XIX docked with the unmanned craft and powered it back up. Aside from the
higher-than-planned temperature (Block III was designed to maintain a twenty
degree C climate with periodic heating and radiating) of thirty-three degrees,
all systems we go. The Apollo XIX crew returned to Earth in Apollo XVIII,
leaving their own spacecraft in orbit for a year-long unmanned mission. It
would return to Earth by remote control four months before the first manned
Moonlab mission flew.
The Moonlab HM was designed for a minimum of five years’
worth of service. As with the long duration Apollo, standard fuel cells would
be insufficient to power Moonlab. The best available option in 1968 was known
as the radioisotope thermal generator. The RTG worked by converting heat given
off by radioactive decay into electrical power. Equipment left behind on the
moon by Apollo, as well as deep space probes, were all powered by these small
nuclear sources. When it was leaked to the press that Moonlab would run on a
scaled-up version of the same generators, NASA was struck by an anti-nuclear
backlash from the public.
A vocal minority expressed some outrage in NASA dumping
radioactive material on another world. Never mind the fact that natural
occurring radiation in space far outstripped anything humanity could ever
produce, the word nuclear brought out the small, but ever growing
environmentalist movement. A Congressional investigation into the Moonlab
design brought up the question why the HM did not use solar power. After all,
it would work find for the orbiting CM. One key point that was lost on the
investigators is that anything in orbit of the moon would not be trapped in a
fourteen-day long night cycle. Apollo could run its batteries in the shade, and
recharge once back in the sun.
Moonlab did not have that option, unless it was to land
at the North or South Pole. Even then, solar arrays would need to be
constructed on the peaks of eternal sunlight. A fine idea for a city, but
useless for something as small as Moonlab. Attempts to install solar panels on
Moonlab itself would delay the project by months perhaps even by more than a
year should the redesign prove significant. Had the environmentalist the size
and political clout they held in the 21st Century back in 1971, then
it is entirely possible the Moonlab budget would have failed to pass. With the
Red Menace still in the air, Congress approved the budget that opened the way
for the first Moonlab missions. NASA Public Relations assured the public that
research into solar power and even higher capacity batteries would progress,
and future Habitat Modules would incorporate any such development. The failed
to sail whether any breakthroughs would occur before then.
Unlike Apollo, Moonlab would call for all three
astronauts to venture to the surface. To beat the Soviets to the moon, NASA
settled for a smaller, two-man Lunar Excursion Module. A second generation LEM
underwent testing between 1972 and 1974. Two of the orbital tests were unmanned,
testing not only the maneuvering of the new LEM, but also many systems on the
Block III Apollo already in orbit. A third, manned test occurred on December
17, 1973, using the Saturn Vb as well as an older model Apollo. With identical
docking mechanisms, the new LEM could be used with either Block II or III.
Fewer tests were ran on the Moonlab LEM, since they used much of the same
hardware as the Apollo LEMs, with the major difference being a more voluminous
interior as well as more powerful descent and ascent engines.
Project Moonlab called for the LEM to carry three
astronauts, as well as at least 200 kg of sample returns. Grumman’s design team
rated the LEM for 250 kg, but NASA planners decided to not allow the samples to
exceed 200 kg, giving the lander a wide safety of margin when it returned to
orbit. Development costs of the LEM and C/SM for Moonlab proved to be one of
the few good deals of the project. With most of the transportation hardware
R&D covered by past projects, Project Moonlab focused its resources on the
new instead of wasting money on the tried and true. The Chinese space program
of the 21st Century followed a similar pattern. Thanks to what was
learned in the 1960s at American and Soviet cost, China could leap forward to
its Shenzhou spacecraft (itself a copy of the venerable workhorse known as
Soyuz) without having to pour billions of Yuan into learning if its Taikonauts
could even survive periods of weightlessness.
One of the tried and true tools of Apollo was abandoned
in favor of a newer model. The original lunar rover fulfilled its role as a
short-range transport very well, but Moonlab mission durations spanned at least
fifty times the length of stay of the Apollo landings. Everything within
walking distance of the landing site would be explored long before the clock
ticked down to zero. A new lunar exploration vehicle, named the moon buggy by
the astronauts that operated it, could operate across great distances of the
lunar surface, with individual drives of over two hundred kilometers. With
solar power driving it, what really limited the moon buggy’s range was the
length of the lunar day.
Travelling at ten kilometers an hour, such long drives
would literally last for days. Instead of requiring the astronauts to remain
exposed on the surface, the moon buggy would have a large pressurized cabin
that the crew could call home. If Moonlab were a camper, then the moon buggy
would be a tent. Facilities were primitive. Only one bunk was placed in the
vehicle, forcing the astronauts to rotate their rest periods. One would drive
while the other slept. The interior volume of seven cubic meters, while greater
than the Apollo CM only gave the astronauts just enough room to get out of the
driver’s seat and go to bed. While the moon buggy was designed for ‘shirt
sleeve operations’, its cramped interior made it impractical to strip
completely out of the suit.
Behind the pressurized cabin, a second, open compartment
for equipment, experiments and sample collection. Looking upon the moon buggy
in profile, one is reminded of a full-sized van pulling a small trailer. The
similarities are only superficial, as the moon buggy could barely operate in
Earth’s gravity. Technicians preparing the Moonlab II flight faced a stiff
challenge just getting the buggy up the ramp and secured into the first of
several automated supply missions.
Moonlab’s greatest difference compared to previous
projects is the inclusion of non-pilots into the crews. The astronaut corps
came from a pool of test pilots, and all had military backgrounds. There was
only so much a military man could do on the moon. Criticism towards the initial
selection of Moonlab crews included the lack of scientists on what was supposed
to be a scientific mission. True, the astronauts could be directed by
Earth-based laboratories, but if NASA planned to just have remote-controlled
astronauts in Moonlab, then they might as well do away with the human aspect
and convert the project to full automation. Robotic probes were far cheaper and
easier to support in the hostile lunar environment.
Instead of sending the crews through the years it would
require to gain a basic degree in geology, in 1966, NASA decided to turn
scientists into astronauts. The Science Corps, as the program was unofficially
named, selected nine geologists and three astronomers for Project Moonlab. The
inclusion of astronomers was questioned by Congressional oversight in that why
should a project dedicated to the moon need scientists who look up for a
living? It took some explaining to convey the idea that the airless moon made
an ideal location for telescopes and other astronomical equipment.
Much of the Science Corps training involved learning how
to operate the LEM and moon buggy. For Project Apollo, the scientists were
trained as LEM pilots, causing them to fill two mission roles. No scientists
flew on the Apollo missions, though a number were on standby in the event of
Moonlab’s potential cancellation. The first of the Moonlab geologists, Harrison
Schmidt, served as Apollo XVII’s backup LEM pilot. His inclusion in the roster
continued even after Moonlab’s budget was approved in 1970, though the rest of the
Science Corps were permanently transferred.
After years of
training before the first Moonlab mission, the concept underwent reevaluation
by auditors. The cost of turning a scientist into astronauts, both in money and
time, turned out to be greater than sending an individual astronaut by to
college to earn a degree in Earth Science. It was not the first cost overrun of
the program, nor would it be the last. Even before Moonlab itself was launched,
the project spent over three billion dollars. For the duration of Project
Moonlab, the public would continue to wonder if knowledge was gained at too
high of a price.
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