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CHAPTER 23:
Putting It Together



Scott K @Kman549

International Space Expo ’43. This year’s theme ‘Tomorrow the Stars’ was on full display with the latest equipment for mining and construction. The Space Force display of new suit designs was absolutely amazing! I’ll be posting pictures in the thread below.

USSF Office of Scientific Integration

@OSIGenBoatright

@Kman549, thanks for the kind words, Scott. OSI is all about pushing the boundaries of what’s possible!

ChirpChat, September 2043


The new spacesuit had a lot in common with Glenn’s old exoskeleton. Ian wanted to call it the Fireball XL Five, but apparently General Boatright had vetoed that name. For now, they were simply calling it the hard suit. At first glance, Glenn liked it; it was less confining, and in a way, much less restricting than a spacesuit. This suit was similar to deep water diving suits, with hard coverings and articulation joints at wrists and elbows, shoulders, knees, and hips. However, servo motors controlled those joints to assist with movement to provide both greater protection and greater mobility to an astronaut. Glenn’s own experience with the fire on the Dragonfly trainer was one reason that was used to justify the new suit.

Superhuman strength wasn’t necessarily needed on the Moon or orbital. Reduced gravity meant that less muscle was needed to lift and move objects. On the other hand, every object still had its same mass—and therefore inertia—that it would have on Earth. Once an object was moving, it required a greater amount of force and control to stop it. Thus, this new spacesuit design was all about exerting the type of force needed in low gravity and low atmosphere environments while maximizing astronaut protection. Computer-controlled servos compensated for mass and inertia, while longer life support and the ability to integrate propulsion made it practically a personalized spaceship. The design had been developed for orbital construction crews.

A non-augmented human would operate the hard suit much the same way they operated an exoskeleton; pressure sensitive pads around the ankles, knees, hips, shoulders, elbows, and wrists translated movements to servomotors. Glenn’s was originally operated the same way, allowing him to move about while learning to adapt to his bionics before they had been turned up to full power. Much like his later exo, though, Glenn’s embedded bionic processor could directly interface with the hard suit to operate it by thought alone.

Glenn packed the suit into his special moonbuggy and took it out of Mare Imbrium into Mare Serenitatis where he knew he wouldn’t be observed. His next test would kick up quite a bit of dust, so he needed to be out of line-of-sight from Moonbase. While the chief medical officer and Guenter knew what he was doing, it wouldn’t be a good idea to have casual observers watching. The hard suit was in the cargo compartment, so he needed to pressurize the compartment to just below the pressure of the cab, climb into the suit, seal it, then seal off the cockpit area of the buggy. That kept the dust out, and the base monitors would continue to show normal pressure while he pumped down the cargo compartment and opened the hatch.

The cargo compartment had a distinctive smell. Apollo astronauts had described it as “spent gunpowder.” To Glenn, it smelled of ashes leftover from a charcoal fire. As a doctor and scientist, Glenn knew that lunar regolith actually had no smell, since any aromatic chemicals had long boiled off in the vacuum, but that the highly charged ions reacted with moisture in the human nose. That didn’t make it any less distinctive, and the smell brought back memories of Fourth of July cookouts and fireworks.

Every time Glenn stepped out onto the lunar surface, he marveled at the beauty. He looked up at the Earth hanging almost directly overhead, and noted the odd sensation of moving inside the suit and not having the exterior move unless he commanded it to do so. He’d done several tests in the garage before this point, but this was his first experiment in full vacuum on the lunar surface.

He checked his commlink back to the Moon buggy, then sent a ping to Guenter to make sure the technician knew he was out of the buggy. Next was a secure comm link to the bionics laboratory on Earth.

“Okay Ian, I’m ready to let ’er rip.”

“Roger, Glenn. Take it easy at first, just start off walking. Good . . . starting to get some readings. Internals are steady, externals are . . . whoa, that was a sharp temperature jump. You in full sun?”

“Confirmed, Ian. I stepped out of the shade of the buggy into direct sun.”

“Okay, Glenn. External temp is stable at one-oh-three Celsius, internal temp is one-niner degrees cee—are you sure that’s not a bit cool for you? You can kick it up a bit.”

“Sweat doesn’t evaporate as well in a suit, even the extra breathing room in here won’t help if I get dripping wet from exertion. Better to be a bit cool now than risk moisture penetration into suit systems.”

“Understood, Glenn. Okay, all systems reporting green. Go ahead and take it out for a run.”

“I’m going to try for twenty-five kph, around fifteen miles per hour. I can maintain that on my own pretty easily on Earth. In this suit on the Moon should be a breeze.”

“A breeze in the vacuum. Very funny, Shep,” Ian replied. “Okay, according to readings you’re operating strictly on the force feedback servos. Those are operating just fine, but I’m going to send a lockout code to shut them off. Think about interfacing directly with your bionic control computer.”

“Wait one, I don’t want you sending the code while I’m in mid-leap and I lock up and go tumbling. Okay, I’m stopped now. Send it.” Several green lights in Glenn’s heads-up display turned amber, and a red light turned green.

“Sent. Now, it’s just like your exo. Take a step.”

“Okay . . . that felt a bit like swimming in molasses for a moment, but it passed. Speeding up . . . That’s better. I’m moving along in an easy lope with about ten meters per bounce.”

“Copy. I’ve got the same on this end. System integration is nominal, lags are down in the picosecond range. No problems. All right, you can give it a little bit of gas, if you want.”

Glenn grunted to himself as he realized that he was still continuing to move his legs and arms in time with the motions of the suit. In truth, he could pull his legs up in a tuck and let the suit do all of the work—either that, or let the suit move the limbs passively. For now, he decided to stay in the same position, wearing the suit like any other garment, but he stopped exerting force with his muscles, and the external speed started to climb. “All right, all okay. Five-zero kph and bounding along. I stopped thinking about my legs and just told the suit to move and it got a lot easier.”

“Excellent, Glenn. See if you can take it up to seventy-five.”

“Seven-five acknowledged and kicking up some dust. Are you reading the camera on the Moon buggy?”

“I am but you’re actually out of the picture. One of the L1 satellites has you in view, but I’ll pan the buggy camera a little bit . . . Oh, ho, ho! Nice rooster tail there, Speedy! You’re kicking up more than just a little bit of dust. I’m also reading one hundred kilometers per hour.”

“I thought I’d push it a bit more. One hundred kay, running on the surface of the Moon. Not bad. Not half bad at all.” he paused a moment, then resumed. “One request, though.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Can you give me maneuvering jets? The bounds are getting a bit long. Moving this fast in low gee makes me risk losing contact with the surface. I think I’m going to need some extra boost to stay grounded.”

“Hmm, not a bad idea. I know that there was talk of an orbital version of the suit. Let me talk it over with the dev team. So, tabling that for now, how are you feeling, Shep?”

“Okay, felt a bit of a twinge for a moment back down around seventy-five. Kind of like a pulled chest muscle, but it passed quickly.”

“Hmm, I’m not seeing anything here. Biotelemetry doesn’t show anything, but then I don’t get the full bio readout. Are you being monitored back at Moonbase?”

“The CMO gets a readout. It was a condition of my being up here in the first place. He won’t tell anybody, though. The general swore him to secrecy.”

“I suggest you check in with him . . . that is, if he doesn’t call you before you get back. Still, time to slow it back down.”

“Agreed, I’m starting to feel a cramp or something, probably an intercostal muscle in the chest, but I’m coming back down through fifty kays, headed for twenty-five. I’m also starting to circle back; it’s going to take a while.”

“That’s fine. Keep it down to twenty-five and I’ll keep the force-feedback servos offline for now. How are you feeling?”

“The cramp is easing up; it now just feels like a muscle twitch. Probably just time for a visit with the massage terrorist. I think it will be okay, so let’s call this one a good test.”

“Looks good, here, Glenn. I can stay on the line for bit, but will clear off the comm frequency and just keep your telemetry up. Call me if you need me.”

“Roger, Ian. The buggy’s in sight and I’m slowing down to a walk. The test is done and all is well. Glenn out.”


When Glenn got back inside the buggy and out of the exo, he still felt a slight twinge in his chest. Something wasn’t quite right, but it didn’t seem serious. He would see if he could get some time with the Moonbase resident massage therapist—a position he’d created when he was Moonbase CMO after witnessing firsthand the need for someone with those skills. One of the issues with working in reduced gravity was an increased frequency of muscle strains and sprains. It was easy to forget that decreased gravity and weight did not change mass. Large, heavy objects—or ones moving one hundred kilometers per hour—still required exertion to start and stop movement. This twinge had all the hallmarks of a pulled muscle, so he’d consult her . . . later. For now, it was time to get back to his quarters, take a nice hot shower, and check on correspondence regarding the Percheron.


“Dr. Shepard, I’m so sorry, but I’ve been looking at the medical telemetry from your surface excursion. I’m not happy with your heart function and circulation.” Jeff Ling had stopped by Glenn’s quarters later that evening.

Glenn had just gotten off a very awkward comm with Jen. He’d followed Marty’s advice and reached out to her. Deep down, he knew he’d hurt her and needed to try to repair the damage done to their relationship. She seemed receptive to the call, but cool. He was unsure if it would be possible to regain the old warmth and feeling, but he was coming to realize that he needed to try, so he’d talked for most of the call, trying to fill her in on what he’d been doing. He couldn’t say everything via unsecured comm, particularly given what he was planning, but that was probably for the best.

Unfortunately, he had a feeling that what the CMO would say next was going to sideline all of his plans.

“What kind of a problem, Jeff?”

“You need to get back under full gravity, or even higher. It’s not a problem now, but I can see you losing muscle tone. With your reduced blood volume and shorter circulation system, you need Earth normal, or even higher gravity for short periods. I’m recommending you head up to O’Neill station and take advantage of their one-gee and one-point-two-gee habitat wheels.” O’Neill station was at Earth’s fifth Lagrange point—the same orbit as the Moon, but following in the orbit by sixty degrees. That’s where they were assembling the cargo pod.

Glenn fought to suppress a grin. “So, what you’re telling me is that I need to spend some time in a higher gee environment for my cardiac health. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s pretty much it, Shep. I’m also going to prescribe some specific exercises. I think you need to do more cardio, plus something to improve your core muscle strengths. Crunches are good, but planks are better. You can do those in the one-gee areas, but I think you should do at least an hour of exercise each day in the one-point-two-gee ring. Oh, and don’t spend any more time in the point-eight-gee wheel than you need to. I’ll be monitoring to see if this improves your readings.”

Ling seemed to have a bit of a facial twitch. Wait, did he just wink? Glenn thought, then continued aloud. “Well Jeff, I know some of the docs have doubts about how well I can perform in space. God knows I’ve been fighting Space Force on it for the past four years. If you think I need to do it, I’ll go.”

“Yes, Shep, I think it will be a great value to go out to O’Neill and build up some cardiovascular stamina.”

Oh, this was not suspicious at all. Ling was sending him to the exact same place where the cargo pod was being assembled.

This had General Boatright written all over it.

The emergency cargo pod was being assembled at L5 Lagrange point so that it wouldn’t have to interact with Earth or Moon gravity. The L4 and L5 points, also known as the leading and trailing “trojans,” already had a velocity advantage over anything originating in a close Earth orbit, since they shared the same orbit and velocity as the Moon. A “slingshot” trajectory around the Earth for additional gravity assist was out of the question, because the craft would have to dive too deep into Earth’s atmosphere to get sufficient acceleration, so the trailing Lagrange point gave the optimum trade-off of access and launch position.

If someone wanted to send Glenn to O’Neill—where he’d be in a position to work with loading the cargo pod—that was fine with him. If the doctor wanted him to spend a couple hours a day on cardiovascular conditioning in higher gravity than the Moon . . . well, that was fine, too.

It was a setup.

Of course, it was a setup, but it was exactly the setup he wanted.


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