Our Major Matt Mason Fiction

MAJOR MATT MASON
ON THE MOON

2037

Decisions and Introductions

"Come in, Mason. Don’t just stand there."

Major Matt Mason, United States Space Exploration Force, had already snapped to attention and raised him hand in a salute when the boisterous man had beckoned him into his office. "Yes, General Grant."

Mason glanced around the office area. Typically cramped, as one might expect on a space station like Earth Platform 2. Grant’s decor was rather spartan – no pictures, no certificates, nothing which would give any hint as to who Christopher Grant really was.

"All right, Matt. Have a seat."

The major grabbed the back of a chair and maneuvered himself into the seat, strapping himself down with the velcro strips. "You sent for me, General?"

Grant snorted and popped a soft peppermint stick into the side of his mouth, sucking on it like one might savor a good cigar. "Matt, I’m going to level with you. You’ve been here at Earth Platform 2 for six weeks. You’ve proven yourself to be an excellent pilot, well-respected by your peers and operations personnel alike. Heck, your test flight into Earth’s atmosphere using the XRG-1 was outstanding. No one else could’ve brought that malfunctioning bird into the Cape like you did."

Mason shrugged. "I do my best work when I’m under pressure."

Grant laughed raucously. "In fact, I’m betting your going to do just that, Matt."

The major leaned forward. "What do you mean by that, General?"

Grant pressed a few keys on his desktop BellComm, and the lights dimmed. Behind him, a tactical map display lit up. "I’m sure you’re familiar with our mission here at Earth Platform 2?"

"Yes, sir. We’ve been developing various means to establish colonies on another world."

The general nodded. "Yep. But there comes a time in any program where it either fulfills its promise or gets its spending cut."

Mason nodded. "And we’re at that critical juncture."

"Actually, we’ve passed it, and we’re moving on. Or rather, you’re moving it on, son."

Matt Mason actually smiled. Here he was getting the green light on the Mars mission! To actually step on an alien planet! It was simply an incredibly prospect! The dream of a lifetime, his dream. "So when do we leave for Mars, sir?"

Grant laughed softly. "Actually, Matt, we’re not going to Mars, not yet. We’re heading back to Luna."

Disappointment gripped Mason. "The moon, sir? Been there, done that, got the t-shirt."

"I don’t need any wisecracks from you, son," Grant’s tone made that perfectly clear. "I expect a little gratitude for this assignment."

"I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, sir...Well, actually I did. Sorry, sir. But why are we going to the moon again?"

"Matt, it’s been nearly sixty years since we’ve been to Luna. It’s time we reestablish a presence there." Grant pulled his peppermint stick and pointed the end of it at Mason. "Besides, we’ve spent billions constructing this gear for the Mars mission. We’d like to know it works before we ship it all to Mars."

"I get it, sir," Mason agreed. "If it doesn’t work on the moon, we’d rather know about it where we can get the bugs out in our own backyard."

"Quite right. If someone goes wrong on Luna, you’re only five days out from Earth. If something goes wrong on Mars, your out of luck."

Grant clicked another switch, and a map appeared on the display behind them. "Recognize this region, Matt? It’s Luna’s south pole. It’s the region we’ve selected to establish the first permanent base on the moon."

"Can’t say that I recognize the place, General Grant. I’m a pilot; lunarology is just not my speciality."

"Well, you’ve got two weeks to make it your ‘speciality’ if you want this posting."

"Posting, sir? I thought you wanted me to pilot a transport ship to the moon."

"Matt, I want you to lead this mission to Luna. It’s going to be your command, if you want it."

"Me? Command of a space station? I’m not sure I’m qualified."

"I’m sure you are, son, or I’d’ve never tapped you for an assignment this important. I was there at the Cape when the XRG was spiraling in, out of control. You held it together; you got Mission Control to agree to that hare-brained idea of yours; and you managed to impress a lot of people, myself included, who thought you were dead meat when the computer guidance control failed." Grant’s gray eyes met Mason’s baby blues. "You’re the man I want leading this project, Matt. Will you do it?"

Mason studied Grant’s grim visage; the gray-haired man’s gaze seemed to bore into his very being. "I’ll do it, sir."

"Good boy. Now, sit back and let me get someone in here who knows more about Luna than any other person I know." He tapped a button. "Corporal Johnson, find Lieutenant Long and have him report to my office immediately. Grant out."

Mason stood and made his way to the display. "This is the Southern pole," he said upon closer inspection. "I remember this from training. The region has some areas permanently in the shadow and some permanently in the sunlight."

"Quite so. Some of the areas in the shadow have ice deposits in the crater," said a young black man as he made his way into the cramped office. "Afternoon, Chris."

"Hi, Jeff," the general answered. "This is Major Matt Mason. He’s agreed to lead the mission to Luna."

"Back to Luna," Long corrected. "Been there, done that..."

"Got the t-shirt," Mason chimed in with Long in unison. He struck his hand out. "Please to meet you, Lieutenant."

Long nodded slightly. "Pleasure’s mine, Major. I was Earthside when you brought in the XRG. Man, that was something to behold. Everyone thought you were a goner, but I knew you’d pull it out. Something about you said that you weren’t the kind of man to give up and die."

"I’m not." Mason turned back to the display. "So this is where we’re going?"

"It’s where we think we have the best shot at establishing a permanent settlement."

"Why?"

"Ever hear of Clementine?" asked Long.

"As in ‘Oh my darlin’’?"

Long smiled and shook his head. "Nope. It’s a forty-year old space probe the military sent to the moon. Was a low-budget probe in a polar orbit, and it gave us some wonderful information. Including, I might add, the fact that some of the craters of the moon’s southern pole remain in constant shadow."

Mason shrugged. "Not surprising, is it?"

"Ah, but the fact that those craters exist created the circumstances to allow water to exist on the moon. In fact, the telemetry from Clementine and the Lunar Prospector indicate that there’s as much as three billion tons of water ice at the South lunar pole."

"And water increases the likelihood that a colony there can be self-sufficient," concluded Grant. "Mason, we’ve already started sending payload rockets to Moretus." The general pressed another switch, and an image appeared on the wall display. "It’s a decent sized crater, a little more than a hundred kilometers across, and it should be perfect for the base. It’s got a stable floor, and a rather two and a half kilometer tall peak in its center that will be perfect as a radar installation and navigation beacon. With that radar in place, you’ll be relatively well informed of any meteor activity in the area."

Long chimed in, "It’s only a few hundred kilometers from the Lunar South Pole, but would allow for missions to several sites of interest, from a scientific point of view, including the vast walled plain of Maginus. Several adjacent craters are nearly as old as the moon itself."

"And we’ve been sending payloads there for how long?"

"Two weeks. Right now, you’ve got enough materiel to construct a space station on the moon. You’ve got enough oxygen and water and food for three months. And we’re planning on sending you in two weeks."

"Just me?"

Grant nodded. "Seems ridiculous, doesn’t it? Sending one man to the moon. It’s a five day trip, and we need to know if the payloads arrived safely."

"And if they didn’t? It’s easier to lose one man than several?"

The general’s face darkened. "No, and that’s not our thinking, Major. It’s easier to send one man to check out the site, and bring him home if the situation warrants it." Grant’s eyes softened. "This isn’t a suicide mission, son. We’re sending you there using the old Conestoga payload launchers we used to put Earth Platform 2 into space. We’ve still got several of them—"

"Sir, the Conestoga’s are great little payload rockets, but they’ve got nothing in the way of life support, living quarters. They’re just big empty warehouses."

"We’ve made a few changes to yours, Major," Grant said. The general turned to Long. "Jeff, I know you’ve got work to do on that UV project. Go on back to the lab, and thanks."

Long smiled. "Will do." The man thrust his hand at Mason. "Pleasure meeting you, Major. I’m looking forward to working with you in about a month."

"Pleasure’s mine, Lieutenant."

Long stood and strolled from the general’s office, and Grant was already using his BellComm terminal again. Mason let his eyes wander back to the map of the crater, it’s huge peak in the middle reminding him of a volcano. Grant finished his call, and looked at the major. "It’s pretty darned impressive, isn’t it? More than a mile high."

Matt Mason nodded. "I should say so."

There was a knock at the door, and Grant bellowed, "Come."

A man with distinctively Japanese features made his way into the cramped office, taking a chair and strapping himself in without so much as an introduction. He looked nervous, Mason decided.

Grant leaned forward, "Major, this is Sergeant Ishiro Kandagawa. Kandagawa-san, may I introduce Major Matt Mason. He’s the man I’ve tapped to lead the expedition to Luna."

The dark haired man regarded Mason passively. "Has he had any experience with the vehicles we’ve been working on?"

Grant sat down, and helped himself to another peppermint stick. "He’s the one who brought in the XRG in one piece."

Kandagawa stood suddenly, and bowed slightly to Mason. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Major. I just assumed you were another glory-hound fly-boy."

Grant chuckled. "Kandagawa-san is your transportation officer. He’s the man who implemented the designs approved, everything from the Cat Trac to the Astro Trac and from the Recono Jet to the Space Crawler. He knows the ins and outs of every piece of equipment you’ll use. And he has a chip on his shoulder about pilots in general, and test pilots in particular. More than a few of his toys have been broken by some careless ‘fly-boys,’ as he calls them."

"My transports are not ‘toys,’ General. They’re vital to the success of this mission. An astronaut cannot walk from your chosen base site to the nearest source of water. He needs a means of transport, and that’s what I’m here for."

Mason was not impressed with the young man’s attitude, but he did appreciate his passion for his field. "Sergeant, I’ve never failed to return in my ship, no matter how trying the circumstances were. There’s not been a vehicle made yet that I can’t handle."

"An idle boast, Major?"

"A promise, Sergeant."

"Very well. Let’s get you suited up and into the simulator."

Mason turned to Grant. "Suited up?"

The general nodded. "We’re going with a new polykevlon uniform. It’s lightweight, hard as steel, and uses your body’s movements to power its functions. We had to add bendable bellows at the major joints, but the suits are the best ever designed. Kandagawa-san, he’s yours for two hours. Try to be gentle with the major, won’t you?"

"As long as he’s gentle with my vehicles..."

to be continued...