Short story by Robert Boucheron
Lunaport
As the volume of interplanetary travel strained the capacity of spaceports on earth, Luanne Vrushsky did a science fair project for a settlement on the moon to serve as a port and free trade zone. Lunaport included a diorama and seven bullet points. It caught the attention of an amateur reporter. His wobbly sixty-second video of Luanne and her project, shot against a backdrop of royal blue curtains and acid green fluorescent lights, was picked up by the news media. Twenty-four hours of incessant repetition somehow reached the notice of an official at the Department of Outer Space, the successor to NASA. He showed the video to the Secretary, a former high school teacher, who saw it as a "teachable moment." She arranged to meet Luanne at her public school in the company of the principal, Mr. and Mrs. Vrushky, and a gaggle of professional journalists.
Even after DOOS tweaked the concept, and the international group called Extraterrestrial Corporation or ExCorp, and the United Nations Council on Lunar Affairs or UNCOLA added their two cents, Luanne’s seven bullet points are still the best analysis. Here they are:
Incredibly, the name stuck. At first, Lunaport looked like the diorama, too. A collection of bubbles linked by silver tubes hunkered beside a vast level plain. The location chosen lay at the edge of what was once called a "lunar sea," which provided a field for spaceships to land and take off. It was marked into pads and transport lanes, with maintenance sheds, storage tanks, signal towers, and rest huts sprinkled here and there. As for the town, engineers opted for a system of tunnels and galleries below the surface like a colony of ants or termites. The bubbles of Luanne’s diorama were observation turrets and light well caps. The tubes were conduits for utilities and a pneumatic transit system. The rocky scarp allowed for horizontal access points, or cave entrances, and a certain amount of shelter.
The full-time population was no more than a hundred, though hundreds more came and went for limited tours of duty. Luanne, having become a professor of astrophysics, was an early visitor. All endured the bureaucratic rule of ExCorp, which operated under a licensing agreement with national governments and GeoPol, an international fusion of police, intelligence, and military agencies.
As space traffic grew, so did the number and diversity of people needed to serve it. Within a few years, Lunaport counted a thousand residents. By the end of a decade, it had transformed from a tiny outpost to a genuine town. Still under the thumb of ExCorp and GeoPol, the size of the place and the ingenuity of the inhabitants generated illicit activities such as smuggling, drug abuse, and sex. Babies were born on the moon. People died there, too. The transport of corpses back to earth and cremation on site were both considered wasteful, so a cemetery was laid out for deceased Lunarians.
Many problems of building off-earth settlements had already been solved on Mars and Venus, of course. Real estate development in such places was like working in Antarctica or the Sahara, only harder. The moon posed the special challenge of no air to breathe and no atmosphere to protect against micro-meteorites and radiation. On the other hand, there was no bad weather to deal with. Photovoltaic cells provided an early source of electric power to drive engines, turn on lights, and run mechanical systems. Then a method was found to exploit the energy differential between areas lit by the sun and areas of permanent shadow. The sun mill was the lunar answer to the windmill on earth. Also vital to success was the ice trapped in the lunar crust. Mine it, melt it, decontaminate it, and voilà: beautiful, potable water!
The location at the edge of the moon’s apparent disc was a subject of debate by the earthly founders. The moon’s period of rotation, as everyone knows, coincides with its period of orbit, so it always presents the same side to earth. This is the "face" that never changes of the man-in-the-moon. Should the new port be on the near side, for ease of communication with earth? Or should it be on the far side, for ease of access by spaceships? The compromise at the edge was rational enough, but as Lunaport became visible to earthlings as a pinprick of light, religious conservatives and traditional skywatchers objected. The face of the moon was disfigured, they said, by a luminous wart. Others called it a diamond earring. The Moonshine Gazette, which claimed to be the first newspaper published in outer space, printed the lampoon:
When pale and aloof was only a sham,
The man-in-the-moon went glitter-glam.
The design of Lunaport was meant to be adaptable for change and growth, and so it proved. From the start, it was a scene of constant tinkering. The builders took it apart, reconfigured it, reused materials, added and extended, and hoarded spare parts. Nothing could be wasted, since everything had to be imported. Little by little, the intensive salvage operation evolved into a town of differentiated zones—residential, industrial, agricultural, and a civic center of offices for business and government. Lunaport acquired a red light district of rowdy bars, tattoo parlors, and flophouses. However high-minded the founders may have been, it was a real port.
Thermonuclear power never gained a foothold, since it generated toxic waste, was difficult to control, and needed a huge volume of water. New technology was needed to deliver power in quantity. A breakthrough came with the silicate refractor discovered by accident in the original Lunalab by Dr. Glimpsenogle. Developed and refined by others, silicate refraction is now widely used on other planets.
Spaceship building and repair were naturally the first industries to emerge. As exploration of the moon advanced, mining for rare metals and minerals got under way. Lunaport saw the possibilities of manufacturing in a sterile environment, and it became a center for electronics and pharmaceuticals. The latter also benefitted from the need to establish a lunar medical clinic, which from the start had to conduct research on the special conditions and adaptations of life on the moon. Hydroponic farming led to genetic research in crops, as well as technical advances in the construction of airtight and watertight greenhouses.
In the second decade, tourists began to arrive. Since only the wealthy could afford a vacation on the moon, tourism added a layer of luxury and cultural chic to the bare-bones Lunaport lifestyle. A dinner theater produced classic shows and satirical revues, while a dance company exploited the opportunities of low lunar gravity. Finally, for those who wanted to get away from it all, to dwell in perfect peace and quiet, many miles from town on the far side of the moon a monastery arose, a joint foundation of Buddhists and Trappists, both known for their silent retreats and meditation.
Changes on earth due to global warming, deforestation, environmental degradation, acid rain, oceanic dead zones, species loss, and moral rot led to a decline of the great nations and a relative bump for cold regions like Scandinavia, Siberia, and Canada. At the same time, progress and growth in Lunaport sparked local awareness, and the moon became a player in world affairs. Things escalated to a revolt against what Lunarians saw as a corrupt and unresponsive ExCorp regime. They proclaimed a short-lived Republic of the Moon. Lunaport suffered damage in the ensuing Lunar War, but it made its point. ExCorp was reorganized as a nonprofit with no political function. Still tethered to earth, the moon achieved a degree of autonomy within the Solar Confederation.
As reconstruction moves ahead, a mayor and town council govern Lunaport, while a Lunar Assembly deals with moon-wide issues. The total population may be small compared to that of earth and other planets, but ports have always been exchanges for ideas as well as goods. They demand innovation, and they search for new markets. Lunaport put the moon on the map. Who knows what it will bring to the future?
As the volume of interplanetary travel strained the capacity of spaceports on earth, Luanne Vrushsky did a science fair project for a settlement on the moon to serve as a port and free trade zone. Lunaport included a diorama and seven bullet points. It caught the attention of an amateur reporter. His wobbly sixty-second video of Luanne and her project, shot against a backdrop of royal blue curtains and acid green fluorescent lights, was picked up by the news media. Twenty-four hours of incessant repetition somehow reached the notice of an official at the Department of Outer Space, the successor to NASA. He showed the video to the Secretary, a former high school teacher, who saw it as a "teachable moment." She arranged to meet Luanne at her public school in the company of the principal, Mr. and Mrs. Vrushky, and a gaggle of professional journalists.
Even after DOOS tweaked the concept, and the international group called Extraterrestrial Corporation or ExCorp, and the United Nations Council on Lunar Affairs or UNCOLA added their two cents, Luanne’s seven bullet points are still the best analysis. Here they are:
- Leaving and entering the earth’s atmosphere is the most dangerous part of any space voyage due to intense heat generated by friction with the air.
- Escaping the earth’s gravitational field requires the greatest expenditure of energy, fuel, and therefore money.
- The inertial forces of entry and reentry put the most stress on ships and human bodies.
- Passengers and freight often come to earth on their way elsewhere. They are merely passing through and do not need to land on the surface.
- The earth’s magnetic field is nearly as troublesome to spaceship navigators as ordinary weather and distortion caused by atmospheric lens.
- No orbital space station, however large, can compete with the practical advantages of a station on the moon.
- Finally, Lunaport will allow authorities to quarantine certain travelers and items to store vast amounts of freight at little cost, and to hold at arm’s length the problems associated with any busy spaceport.
Incredibly, the name stuck. At first, Lunaport looked like the diorama, too. A collection of bubbles linked by silver tubes hunkered beside a vast level plain. The location chosen lay at the edge of what was once called a "lunar sea," which provided a field for spaceships to land and take off. It was marked into pads and transport lanes, with maintenance sheds, storage tanks, signal towers, and rest huts sprinkled here and there. As for the town, engineers opted for a system of tunnels and galleries below the surface like a colony of ants or termites. The bubbles of Luanne’s diorama were observation turrets and light well caps. The tubes were conduits for utilities and a pneumatic transit system. The rocky scarp allowed for horizontal access points, or cave entrances, and a certain amount of shelter.
The full-time population was no more than a hundred, though hundreds more came and went for limited tours of duty. Luanne, having become a professor of astrophysics, was an early visitor. All endured the bureaucratic rule of ExCorp, which operated under a licensing agreement with national governments and GeoPol, an international fusion of police, intelligence, and military agencies.
As space traffic grew, so did the number and diversity of people needed to serve it. Within a few years, Lunaport counted a thousand residents. By the end of a decade, it had transformed from a tiny outpost to a genuine town. Still under the thumb of ExCorp and GeoPol, the size of the place and the ingenuity of the inhabitants generated illicit activities such as smuggling, drug abuse, and sex. Babies were born on the moon. People died there, too. The transport of corpses back to earth and cremation on site were both considered wasteful, so a cemetery was laid out for deceased Lunarians.
Many problems of building off-earth settlements had already been solved on Mars and Venus, of course. Real estate development in such places was like working in Antarctica or the Sahara, only harder. The moon posed the special challenge of no air to breathe and no atmosphere to protect against micro-meteorites and radiation. On the other hand, there was no bad weather to deal with. Photovoltaic cells provided an early source of electric power to drive engines, turn on lights, and run mechanical systems. Then a method was found to exploit the energy differential between areas lit by the sun and areas of permanent shadow. The sun mill was the lunar answer to the windmill on earth. Also vital to success was the ice trapped in the lunar crust. Mine it, melt it, decontaminate it, and voilà: beautiful, potable water!
The location at the edge of the moon’s apparent disc was a subject of debate by the earthly founders. The moon’s period of rotation, as everyone knows, coincides with its period of orbit, so it always presents the same side to earth. This is the "face" that never changes of the man-in-the-moon. Should the new port be on the near side, for ease of communication with earth? Or should it be on the far side, for ease of access by spaceships? The compromise at the edge was rational enough, but as Lunaport became visible to earthlings as a pinprick of light, religious conservatives and traditional skywatchers objected. The face of the moon was disfigured, they said, by a luminous wart. Others called it a diamond earring. The Moonshine Gazette, which claimed to be the first newspaper published in outer space, printed the lampoon:
When pale and aloof was only a sham,
The man-in-the-moon went glitter-glam.
The design of Lunaport was meant to be adaptable for change and growth, and so it proved. From the start, it was a scene of constant tinkering. The builders took it apart, reconfigured it, reused materials, added and extended, and hoarded spare parts. Nothing could be wasted, since everything had to be imported. Little by little, the intensive salvage operation evolved into a town of differentiated zones—residential, industrial, agricultural, and a civic center of offices for business and government. Lunaport acquired a red light district of rowdy bars, tattoo parlors, and flophouses. However high-minded the founders may have been, it was a real port.
Thermonuclear power never gained a foothold, since it generated toxic waste, was difficult to control, and needed a huge volume of water. New technology was needed to deliver power in quantity. A breakthrough came with the silicate refractor discovered by accident in the original Lunalab by Dr. Glimpsenogle. Developed and refined by others, silicate refraction is now widely used on other planets.
Spaceship building and repair were naturally the first industries to emerge. As exploration of the moon advanced, mining for rare metals and minerals got under way. Lunaport saw the possibilities of manufacturing in a sterile environment, and it became a center for electronics and pharmaceuticals. The latter also benefitted from the need to establish a lunar medical clinic, which from the start had to conduct research on the special conditions and adaptations of life on the moon. Hydroponic farming led to genetic research in crops, as well as technical advances in the construction of airtight and watertight greenhouses.
In the second decade, tourists began to arrive. Since only the wealthy could afford a vacation on the moon, tourism added a layer of luxury and cultural chic to the bare-bones Lunaport lifestyle. A dinner theater produced classic shows and satirical revues, while a dance company exploited the opportunities of low lunar gravity. Finally, for those who wanted to get away from it all, to dwell in perfect peace and quiet, many miles from town on the far side of the moon a monastery arose, a joint foundation of Buddhists and Trappists, both known for their silent retreats and meditation.
Changes on earth due to global warming, deforestation, environmental degradation, acid rain, oceanic dead zones, species loss, and moral rot led to a decline of the great nations and a relative bump for cold regions like Scandinavia, Siberia, and Canada. At the same time, progress and growth in Lunaport sparked local awareness, and the moon became a player in world affairs. Things escalated to a revolt against what Lunarians saw as a corrupt and unresponsive ExCorp regime. They proclaimed a short-lived Republic of the Moon. Lunaport suffered damage in the ensuing Lunar War, but it made its point. ExCorp was reorganized as a nonprofit with no political function. Still tethered to earth, the moon achieved a degree of autonomy within the Solar Confederation.
As reconstruction moves ahead, a mayor and town council govern Lunaport, while a Lunar Assembly deals with moon-wide issues. The total population may be small compared to that of earth and other planets, but ports have always been exchanges for ideas as well as goods. They demand innovation, and they search for new markets. Lunaport put the moon on the map. Who knows what it will bring to the future?
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Robert Boucheron grew up in Syracuse and Schenectady, New York. He worked as an architect in New York City and Charlottesville, Virginia. His short stories and essays appear in Coldnoon, Fiction International, Litro, New Haven Review, Porridge, Poydras Review, Short Fiction, and other magazines.
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