Author's note - When I watched the 1964 adaptation of H.G Well's First Men in the Moon, it made me wonder what would've happened afterwards when it was revealed to the world a group from Victorian England had already been to the moon, so I wrote this one-shot. I hope you enjoy it.
The First Men to Mars.
NASA's launch station at Cape Canaveral always received great attention at the launch of an important craft that would continue to further Man's desire for knowledge of the Universe. Progress had been slow at first. Rocket technology, it was quickly realised, had many flaws; they contained a finite amount of fuel, most of it was used for launch, and unlike in science fiction books, comics and magazines they weren't reusable. Once you were launched into space to break out of Earth's gravity, the engines had been incinerated by the heat. But in recent years there had been a great many changes to how spacecraft were sent into space; rockets were still used to launch satellites into orbit, but for long-range expeditions something else was needed.
And it had come from a very unexpected place. NASA had a very important VIP watching the latest launch of the new expedition. Sitting in his semi comfortable wheelchair in the observation room, Sir Arnold Bedford felt like a monkey in a suit that was much too large and too padded for his comfort, but with his body aging to the point where even a cold wind could shatter him like an icicle, such a suit was a necessary evil.
Bedford ignored the fussing of the nurses and the Matron who had flown out with him all the way here to witness this historic launch, his rheumy eyes squinting as he tried to focus on the various monitors that showed the various pictures shown at differing angles that showed the three spherical spacecraft, his mind casting back to the last days in 1899.
1899.
Bedford closed his eyes as he remembered the events of that year that changed his life completely.
The year his life changed forever, in some ways those changes were good in the long run, but over the years between 1899 and the 1960s lunar expedition, those changes had been bad. Bedford frowned his aged skin rippling as he remembered the failures of his business career before he moved to that quaint little Cherry Cottage outside Dymchurch. He had gone there to practically hide from his creditors but also to try and write a play to earn some cash, but he'd been unable to properly concentrate because he had had a rather insane neighbor. That and because he had grown used to living a luxurious life in Cherry Cottage that he hadn't wanted it to end, even going so far as to lie to Kate and throw his bills which had been increasing in number in the bin. Bedford had had little to do with Joseph Cavor at the time - the rest of the neighbourhood had claimed him to be a crackpot old fool despite being a really kindly figure, but that hadn't been what had put him off Cavor. It had been the frequent explosions he'd heard as he'd tried to brainstorm ideas to write out his play, but it hadn't been until Kate, the woman he had loved for years and had desperately wanted to marry before they had gone their separate ways, had arrived and made the mistake of letting Cavor buy the cottage.
(It had been a shock to his system to learn Cavor hadn't even been aware or alert enough to realise he even had a neighbour, but Cavor had been an eccentric focused on his experiments.)
But when he had gone to rectify Kate's mistake and set Cavor right did he, Bedford, learn just what the reclusive scientist was up to. His old visage cracked into a small smile as he remembered arguing with Cavor though the scientist had tried to win a battle himself to get him to listen as he sat on that chair that Cavor had just painted with Cavorite and how he'd shot up into the air to the ceiling to prove he was telling the truth.
The ideas Bedford had had once he finally accepted Cavorite existed, but Cavor had had his own ideas on how to use the invention - it still made Bedford laugh as he recalled the number of old army boots left over from the Boer war and his rather limited idea of how to apply the substance to the soles so people could jump around. Well, he had been desperate to get rid of them - it had been foolish of him to purchase them.
But Cavor had planned instead to use the Cavorite to power a spacecraft to take him on a trip to the moon. Bedford recalled his skepticism at the time, though even he had seen the possibilities of using Cavorite to transport a craft out into space or even in the air, and it wasn't until he had actually seen the sphere Cavor had spent years building with pieces of scrap like those old railway buffers that Bedfords' disbelief started to crack.
Cavor may have been eccentric, and to some people insane, but he had known that the only way to visit the moon was to break free of the Earth's gravity. He'd also known rocket technology, whilst existing in 1899, wasn't powerful enough to power a spacecraft to make a single orbit like Gagarin had made, never mind power a ship to take people up to the moon. So he'd looked at the problem and was inspired by the simple blinds that could cut off light and heat from the sun, only Cavor had applied it to gravity itself.
That wasn't the only memory Bedford remembered. He could recall Kate's anger when she finally learnt just how serious his financial issues were, but then again a visit from the bailiffs would do that to you, but he remembered how brave she had been when she had been dragged into the sphere just before the launch, and how she had been on the moon itself.
"Mr Bedford?" Margaret Hoy's voice broke through his reverie, and Bedford had to strain to look at her. The woman's face was lined with concern, but he nodded at her.
"Yes?" he replied simply, though he regarded her kindly. When Arnold had first met Hoy, it had been after the UN space agency had launched their rocket to the moon, the first visit since the 1899 visit. Back then the only people who had known about that original expedition were either dead or locked in a nursing home and being ignored for spreading "absurd warnings."
When Bedford and Kate had returned to Earth in the sphere, they had tried on many occasions to tell their story, but with the sphere gone without a trace off the coast of Zanzibar and no actual proof of their visit, they had been called cranks. Bedford had become bitter and apathetic over the years, it had been one of the main reasons why Kate had married someone else, though they had remained good friends and that had been enough for Bedford. But the memory of how people had treated them as cranks still rankled him. Not anymore. It had been six years since that recent expedition to the moon and the discovery of that flag and the note had finally told the story along with his own monogram of the expedition. Too much proof had been found; the flag and the declaration claiming the moon in the name of Queen Victoria, the Selenite city, the solar panel the Selenites had built on the moon's surface to pick up energy from the sun, the traces of civilisation that was now long gone due to Man's original visit.
The cherry on the cake had been the discovery of the sphere. It had been found after a long search off the coast of Zanzibar after an exhaustive search - it was truly amazing what people could do when motivated properly - for the spacecraft, and it had been restored after careful consultation with Bedford. NASA's scientists and engineers had copied the design, but truthfully there was little need; it was a blindingly simple space vehicle, and the design practically answered questions NASA had concerning Cavor's design.
Hoy smiled. "We're ready to launch, are you comfortable here?"
Bedford suppressed a sigh. He'd been asked this same question a dozen times or so - or was that eleven? - and he had replied that he was comfortable. "I'm fine," he croaked as he tried to hold back one of his coughing fits. But he looked past her shoulder at the monitors. "Do you remember when I told you of how the launch in the original sphere was?"
Hoy nodded. "Yes, I do."
"Those new astronauts will be fine. They might receive a few bumps and knocks as their ships are shot into space, but they will be fine," Bedford shook his head lightly before changing the subject. "I am fine here, really," he added when he saw Margaret's look of disbelief. When the woman was gone Bedford remembered the sight of the Selenite city and the immense toothed doors the intelligent insects had built, but he also remembered his own fear and ignorance at the aliens, two things which had poisoned his mind for years but had recently been proven to be fruitless. The Selenites had not been dangerous at all, but there was no way he could change their fate.
At the time of their landing, Cavor had been suffering a terrible cold and under the conditions of the lunar environment, the germs would've run rampant and eventually killed the entire race, including Cavor who had stayed on the moon by his own request, because he had wanted to know more about the moon, and he could only do that if he stayed behind whilst Kate and Bedford left in the sphere.
"T-minus 2 minutes," the announcement made Bedford look up and his chair was wheeled slightly closer to the window of the observation room, his aged heart beating strongly as he saw the three spacecraft being prepared for launch. When he had first seen the rocket that took the Russian cosmonaut Gagarin into space, Bedford's worries about a future trip to the moon had made him write letter after letter warning them not to go, his limited understanding of the Selenites replacing his common sense, but the rocket had been delayed for years because of the problems with rocket science and the time needed to develop such a powerful rocket engine.
Rocket science for long range and long-term space exploration was now a thing of the past. After he and Kate had returned to England, he had fought tooth and nail to get hold of Cavor's notes on Cavorite. Bedford had planned to build a second sphere and return to the moon and rescue Cavor, but he hadn't understood the mathematical equations Cavor had painstakingly written in his notebooks on the formula for Cavorite.
Six years ago Bedford had given the books to the UN representatives who'd come to investigate the flag and message claiming the moon in the name of Queen Victoria in the hopes they could recreate Cavor's experiments. It had taken a lot of time for them, but they had succeeded thanks to the notebooks Bedford had recovered and from preserved samples found on the original sphere's blinds; Cavor had only been one man whereas NASA had hundreds of scientists working in their think tank. Recreating the Cavorite wasn't a problem.
Cavorite had been successfully recreated and now return trips to the moon were becoming increasingly common as more scientists, explorers and archaeologists ventured there to explore the now extinct Selenite race. That wouldn't have been possible with a simple rocket ship. It had taken years to organise the 1960's expedition to the moon with a single rocket but now space flight, whilst still problematic in some places, was now straightforward. All thanks to Cavorite.
"T-minus 1 minute."
But this expedition would be the first real expedition that would land Man on another planet, but they had needed to wait until the planets were in alignment, and that time was now. Bedford was looking forward to sitting in on the meetings that would reveal the secrets of Mars. He had enjoyed the meetings that had occurred frequently after the moon voyages, and they had been a staple of his life for the last six years. Bedford had found them tedious at first since so many people had wanted a retelling of his own story of the moon, but now he enjoyed the meetings. He also enjoyed learning more about the Selenites even if he felt uneasy hearing about them now they were gone.
The question of "are we alone in the universe?" had been answered with the live broadcasts sent from the 1960s expedition that showed the size and majesty of the Selenites civilisation but because of the scale of damage caused by Cavor's cold very few people knew much about them and it would probably take decades to piece together everything.
The realisation alien life existed had excited the masses and had been the driving force behind the demands for more ships to be launched from Earth to explore the rest of the solar system. Bedford hoped that if they did find other life forms dotted around the solar system, they would be treated better than he had treated the Selenites. It was possible there were Selenite like aliens inhabiting the various moons, but Bedford knew he would probably not be alive long enough for it to matter.
On the matter of furthering knowledge of the solar system, Mars was going to be the stepping stone whilst probes were sent deeper and deeper into space. Probes launched enclosed within spheres of Cavorite, already being launched from Earth to go deeper into space, would eventually be launched when the Martian colonies were built.
The Martian expedition was just a reconnaissance mission - they would collect as many samples as possible and then return to Mars and Earth fell out of alignment. In a few years time, it was planned that a large number of spheres would be launched in the hopes of building the beginning of a Martian colony.
The announcer's voice boomed throughout the launch station.
"T- minus 20...19...18...17...16...15...14...13...12...11...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2..1...Zero."
The launch of the three Cavorite spheres wasn't as fiery as a rocket launch, but it was still dramatic once the massive ventilation doors that had kept the hanger open to pour cold air into the room to set the Cavorite off since high temperatures kept it inert, and they shot off faster into the sky and into space as gravity was cut off from their bodies.
Like many others, Bedford knew the exploration of Mars was part of a long-term plan. This expedition would land and take soil, rock and air samples for later testing, and they would conduct numerous experiments on the planet from within their spheres. All three ships carried a satellite which would repetitively take photographs from orbit and relay them back to Earth. Once the planned Martian colony was established, more and more expeditions would be launched into space.
Bedford stared at the image of the rapidly fading image of the spheres as they shot into the sky. The Martian expedition had much larger ships and better equipment than the homemade ship Cavor had built, and the crews were among the best and the brightest. Bedford didn't really think it mattered really who was sent into space as long as they were competent; he had never dreamt he would one day become an astronaut as he focused his time and energy on business opportunities, and besides no-one on Earth at the time had even thought of what space travel was like besides useless dreams.
At least Cavor had made some progress addressing that.
For the next few days, Bedford watched on television the progress of the Martian expedition from the suite he'd been given as part of his rank, smiling each time as one of the astronauts from various countries made their status reports, their enthusiasm infectious to the old man's ears. The spheres they were using had a wide range of sensors that allowed the scientists to make observations which were beyond the comparatively primitive and simple viewing windows Cavor's sphere had needed for guidances. They even had telescopes, not big ones of course, but telescopes that could make observations the ones on Earth were unable to take from its position in space.
Because of his status and his history Bedford had been given a tour of the spheres, and whilst he had thought them enormous at first, he had been amazed by the UN space agency's take on Cavor's dream. Cavor had never known about radio telescopes, and Bedford had the impression the scientist would've been fascinated by the first pictures they took and the pictures the cameras shot on the journey to Mars and excited by the potential knowledge such visits would bring.
On the day before the landing itself, the commander of the Joseph Cavor said to the world.
"This time tomorrow we'll be landing on Mars. Soon the Red Planet, this God of War, will open its doors for us to study its secrets," the commander broke off as he glanced over his shoulder, where some of the crew had ceased their work to pay attention to the speech. "For the last six years, our hope to one day visit Mars has become a reality, thanks to the 1899 Lunar expedition. It's fitting that our Martian expedition ships are named in their honour. Soon we'll arrive on Mars and begin to explore the planet. My crew," he said wryly, correctly guessing at the attention his speech was getting, "are excited about the landing.
"Rightfully so. Our expedition will be the first to set foot on another world. Who knows what we will find out?" he finished philosophically before adding. "Signing off."
The screen darkened but Bedford didn't take his eyes off it, the commander's words about studying the secrets of Mars coming back to haunt him. During the lunar expedition, Cavor had gone on telling him about what kind of things could be learnt on the moon, but Bedford had barely heeded his words at the time, but now he was older and now knew a lot more about the nature of the Selenites, he had to admit he was looking forward to hearing about the news the expedition sent back.
With that thought in mind, he slowly wheeled his chair towards the table where there was a bottle of brandy. Slowly, and cursing his arthritis all the way as he opened the bottle and slowly tipped the bottle, Bedford managed to pour a small amount into a glass.
Picking it up he raised it in a toast. "I hope you're grinning at the Martian expedition, Cavor," Bedford croaked solemnly as he remembered his old friend before his failing memory turned to Kate. "Ah, Kate," he sighed as an image of the beautiful woman once more conjured itself in his mind, all the old regrets greying his mind. "I miss you and I hope you're smiling up there in heaven. God knows one of these days I'll soon be joining you. Until then, to the Martian expedition. Look after them like the angel you are."
Bedford sipped on the brandy, coughing slightly at the strength but smacked his lips in pleasure before he wheeled his chair closer to the heater to keep his failing body warm. Yes, he knew he wasn't going to live long, and for the last six years he had lost the use of his legs and his arthritis had just grown worse.
Praying that he would be able to hold death off for a while longer to see more landings on other worlds, Bedford fell fast asleep.
Mission control was crowded which made Arnold feel small because of his present frailty and being wheelchair bound didn't help, but he pushed aside the feeling of claustrophobia as he watched the Martian expedition ships through the closed circuit television displays whose cameras were mounted on their outer shells.
The spheres had already retracted the screens coated with Cavorite and were busy stabilising their descent by means of retro rockets mounted on their hulls to slow them down whilst strong plastic parachutes added to the descent. Bedford smiled wryly remembering the way the 1899 sphere had practically crashed on the moon and rolled over an impressive distance before coming to a stop, far unlike the 1960's expedition rocket which had simply detached from its mothership and was caught by the moon's gravity, before its rockets guided it down.
Bedford had always wondered about Cavor's shortsightedness when he'd designed and built the sphere not having a way to slow down its descent or at least making it more comfortable. Oh well, it didn't matter now.
The UN had not liked the thought of building a spacecraft for an expedition to Mars with the help of Cavorite only for it to crash and potentially damage its equipment, so they had taken the building blocks of Cavor's work and simply added to it. The new spheres were larger and equipped not just with telescopes, cameras and sensor equipment that sent back its information via radios, but it had retractable legs and retro rockets to achieve a more peaceful and less dangerous landing whilst ensuring the sphere's body was intact whilst maintaining the basics of Cavor's design for spacecraft.
A sphere with an outer frame containing the screens coated in Cavorite, only the modern spheres didn't have the old railway buffers bolted to their hulls.
From each of the monitors, Bedford watched from the different angles that depicted the three separate ships as well as full sized pictures of the spheres. The myriad of images was enough to strain the eyes and give him a headache, but Bedford pushed all that aside just to focus on what he was seeing. They didn't make a beautiful sight if you were more interested in aesthetics but Bedford didn't mind as he saw the three spheres on legs on the surface of the planet Mars.
A small hatch opened on the underside of the three spheres, and from those hatches, a small figure was lowered until they landed on the Martian soil. Arnold let out a breath he hadn't known he'd kept.
For years, he had tried to prevent others from travelling to the moon. But now he knew the truth of the Selenites and the part he, Kate and Cavor had played in that disaster, he had tried to redeem himself by allowing a new and more opened minded generation to explore space.
Mars was the next glorious step, but Arnold Bedford knew other planets like Venus, Mercury, Neptune and Pluto would soon be explored; the recent probes into Saturn and Jupiter discovering their gaseous nature had rewritten the books that claimed they were planets, and he hoped Cavor was smiling at the prospect of new discoveries to be made all in the name of science.
The Martian expedition had been on the Red Planet for over 6 weeks already, and Bedford had been inundated by the amount of scientific knowledge gathered by the team of scientists sent into space. One of the spheres, the Katherine Calendar, had left Mars to explore the Martian moons for a week before returning to Mars.
Bedford sat in on many of the meetings, mostly keeping silent since most of the discussions exhausted him. It wasn't until the Martian expedition's reports of the findings of ruins that suggested an advanced society that Bedford started asking questions about the kind of life that had existed, his interested piqued in memory of the Selenites and his desire to make sure nothing like his human bigotry ever surfaced again in future expeditions. His interest didn't fade when the Katherine Calendar sent pictures of collected artefacts and writing on extremely resilient metal plates back to Earth with promises to bring them back for study.
The writing matched that of the ruins on Mars, indicating the presence of another culture which had ventured out into space, but there wasn't enough time for the expedition to properly explore the planet except perform surveys and collect samples to take back to Earth.
The laboratories on the three spheres had already studied much of the chemical composition of Mars, and their preliminary findings would go a long way into shaping the plans for constructing the colony. The expedition had already known what to expect from the razor-thin air and hostile winds on Mars, but even their preparations had barely managed to protect them from the harshness of the Martian atmosphere.
Many people were starting to plan their return trip to Mars already. As he sat in the suite looking over these plans, Bedford had to admire their quick minds, but there were archaeologists clamouring up to join expeditions to be sent into space towards Mars to study the ruins and to locate other signs of an extinct civilisation.
Slurping noisily from his cup of hot tea, Arnold rubbed his tired eyes and relax his aching head as he tried to focus on the proposals to explore Mars. One of the problems with exploring Mars was the orbit of the planet with that of Earth, the next orbit would be in another few years, leading to a brief window of opportunity, and even Cavorite coated screens couldn't cut down the time it took to reach either planet.
But that wasn't what Bedford was interested in, he was still interested by the reports on the civilisation that had once lived on Mars, and like many of the scientists on Earth, he had questions about them.
Who had they been? Were they truly extinct or had they built a colony somewhere else? Had they gone outside the solar system to take their chances? Had they visited Earth, studied humanity as it evolved? Had they encountered the Selenites? Had the Selenites themselves been a colony of the Martian race?
Bedford shook his aching head to clear his thoughts of the Selenites. He had other things to think about, such as the future of Martian exploration. The previous studies of Mars had helped guide the expedition, developed a new generation of spacesuits to better protect human beings from being killed by micrometeorites, testing and developing them in labs that carefully simulated the Martian atmosphere, but there had been surprises. The records of those surprises, the dips of the soil that had acted like quicksand and the actual sensation of micrometeorite impacts would be helpful in setting up new expeditions.
Another proposal caught Bedford's attention. The old man picked it up carefully and prepared his mind to read it. The proposal wasn't for Mars, surprisingly. It was a proposal to build a small laboratory on the moon, and it being given serious attention by the powers that be at NASA and the UN, and he could see why.
The moon was easy to travel to since it was within Earth's orbit and set up a laboratory, no matter how small, would serve as a quasi-permanent presence on the moon to study astronomical effects without Earth's atmosphere getting in the way. But that wasn't all; there was a section in the proposal that spoke about launching probes into space using Cavorite. These probes would be unmanned and be expected to send information and pictures back. Bedford had already seen similar proposals and plans concerning space exploration, but this was the first time the moon had been included.
The Lunar laboratory was to be the first step in developing a hydroponic research facility. That had caught the attention and endorsement of dozens of people already. On Earth, deforestation and the destruction of numerous rainforests to create new farmlands was becoming a problem. That had changed when Bedford had given them access to Cavor's notebooks on Cavorite and what made it. Bedford hadn't expected someone to think of a use of Cavorite to grow new food, but it was an idea that had already created an avalanche.
Intrigued, Bedford read through the proposal and saw for himself the basic design of the laboratory. It would exist on stilted legs at first, made up out of eight modules and sections that supplied power and oxygen. Periodic spacecraft sent up from Earth would add to the laboratory once the basic structure had been built. These spacecraft would carry new modules and more personnel to make the moonbase work properly. The hydroponic research section would have modules all to themselves, and the findings would be returned to Earth for further study.
All to ensure a colony on Mars survived.
In the meantime, an international space station was being planned though it wouldn't be launched for some time. Like the Lunar laboratory, it would be made up of various sections to make it large and contain separate laboratories to research a future in space.
None of the scientists involved really wanted to build a laboratory in orbit of Earth with the aid of Cavorite - unlike rockets, Cavorite couldn't be controlled easily, and like Kate had demonstrated when she'd opened a blind on their trip to the moon, a delicate course would be broken. Besides, when launched the spheres shot up incredibly fast beyond the orbit of the body and their acceleration only slowed down when they were caught by the pull of another body, such as a moon, an asteroid, or even another planet.
Bedford knew there was research already being carried out to build a new form of spacecraft that combined rocket technology and Cavorite, whether it would work or not he didn't know.
Bedford shook the hands of the members of the Martian expedition when they returned to Earth. Many of them were being sent into rehab to shake off the effects of being gone from Earth's gravity for so long, but they were enthusiastic about being back on Earth and their enthusiasm about Mars was just as infectious.
He was just as excited to see the Martian artefacts; he might have seen pictures, but seeing them with his deteriorating eyesight made them more real to him. Many of the artefacts were shattered pieces of pottery that seemed like a mixture of porcelain and earthenware clay, there were those strange metal plates with the Martian symbols on them. One of the most irritating subjects Bedford had studied at school had been Ancient Greek. Most of it had been pointless, but it had given him an awareness of the symbology behind the Greek civilisation.
But these symbols were nothing like the Greek letters, the hieroglyphs of the Egyptians, the runes of the Vikings. The Martian symbols were circles big, small, semicircular at differing angles with lines or triangles through them. He was so fascinated by them he would sit up until midnight, well he'd fallen asleep a few hours earlier and had to be covered up by his nurse and the matron.
The chairman argued with his contemporaries, "The lunar plans are more viable to us at the present time than a return to Mars."
"But the cost of setting up a research station on the moon will be enormous," someone else argued. "Not just the testing of materials, constant experiments-"
"The Martian expedition brought back a lot of information about the potential conditions out there," another argued, interrupting the last speaker, but he quickly rectified that, "I agree that the costs of conducting experiments will be high, but we have plenty of time to make progress on Earth. We already have knowledge of how to avoid damage to our laboratories in space thanks to continual experimentation. We can delay a future Martian return for a while, but the moon is practically a door that's always opened. We should seize this opportunity."
And on and on it went.
Bedford sighed in his wheelchair, uncaring if he was heard or not, but he was so tired of the same infernal arguments being waged and shouted all the time. This type of argument was typical of the UN, they were a type of formality really. In the years since he'd given Cavors' books to the UN to ensure his legacy and his genius survived for all time and to make amends for his earlier attitudes towards space itself, the UN had sent up a number of satellite laboratories into space in order to conduct research.
The tap on his shoulder made him look into the face of the youngest nurse. "Why are they arguing? I thought the lunar laboratory had been agreed on."
"It has," Bedford whispered, "but as they've found it's not easy to establish a near permanent base in space. They didn't expect the damage small particles of grit could do to a space station in orbit. But it happened, and they have to build their facilities carefully. Its not an easy job."
"So they're worried the laboratory will be destroyed or damage the moment its built?" The nurse nodded in understanding.
"Yes, but there's another reason they're arguing."
"What's that?" The nurse asked curiously.
Bedford smiled and said simply, "They've never done it before, there have been visits and that's all. Human nature, we're afraid of the unknown. But they'll go through with it. There's too much demand for a permanent station on the moon for them to ignore it. It's one thing for small expeditions to travel to the Moon to conduct research, but if they had a permanent base up there then they could conduct as much research as they want; dozens of laboratories studying a wide variety of fields without spheres carrying small amounts of equipment."
They had discovered that particles no bigger than a grain of sand could pulverise the hulls, shatter observation windows and cause explosive decompression. They had solved that problem, not by thickening the outer skin though they had made it a shade or two thicker, but they'd placed multiple layers of kevlar to absorb the impact.
By the time the Martian expedition had been launched, the spheres and the equipment was outfitted much the same way, and the materials used to build the spheres were far denser but more lightweight than steel or iron.
Bedford knew why they were worried about the costs. It wasn't that expensive to purchase the materials to create Cavorite, but making it into a metallic paste was since it involved a lot of heat, and you needed a very resilient venting system to carry the hot gases away. He knew it had taken 10-16 years for Cavor to perfect the Cavorite formula and the process used to make it, never mind building a sphere. At least the space agencies today possessed more resources.
But the UN had a point about the need to experiment with the data brought back from Mars - even with their precautions there were reports of tiny particles of Martian sand and rock being thrown around at hurricane speeds, damaging spacesuits and other pieces of equipment. Week long surveys on the moon had already shown some of these particles flying around the moon, so there were well founded concerns there.
Finally an idea, spawned from his long disused businessman mind, made itself known. Reaching out a hand to the small buzzer in front of him, everyone shut up to listen to what he had to say.
Pleased that once more everyone was giving him the respect to speak, Bedford said with difficulty as the nurses hovered over him as though expecting him to collapse with the effort. "I think there is a way to cover the costs of building research posts out in space," Bedford began, pointing out that there were dozens of similar proposals out there. "Space tourism."
Those two simple words made everyone talk amongst themselves. Ignoring them, Bedford carried on, his voice croaking with the effort as his lungs labored to provide the air for him to speak. "If we send tourists into space, then the public will pay good money to see space. Imagine it, hotels on the moon giving people a happy holiday, whilst research laboratories are being built to study space and space travel more closely.
"If we do that then we will need to establish layers for their own protection and safety; space itself can be very dangerous, and there are still many things we do not know. We have found signs of alien life on Mars and on the moon itself. We need to survey the moon properly to make plans for the safety of anyone sent into space.
"Space tourism is the future finance of space exploration. In the meantime, we need to prepare for the return trips to Mars in order to properly study the Red Planet. We can only do that by sending probes into space itself, build satellites and space stations, but also to study the moon itself. Sooner or later, tourism into space will be spoken about more than it is already. Cavorite has given you a great gift, the means to make repetitive flights out into space. Now what are you waiting for?"
Bedford's rheumy eyes looked around the room.
"Take advantage of space tourism now, and learn from the experiences it brings."
Bedford was almost blasted by the sound of clapping. He blinked as he saw the opinion of everyone in the room at that idea. They could see it had merit, but Bedford suspected they would dig their heels in and argue until they were almost blue in the face.
MOON OPENS UP TO TOURISM!
Bedford read the article with interest a few years later back in his nursing home in Dymchurch. Outside he could hear the chatter of everyone in the home at the news, but Bedford ignored them. He'd heard their chatter so many times concerning something as big as someone being elected President of the USA, to something as minuscule as someone taking pictures of an ant nest.
The article wasn't something unexpected in Bedford's eyes, and everyone here was aware of the part he had played in making it possible. The resort on the moon had been constructed out of the old caverns and galleries underneath the lunar surface. It was nowhere near the Selenite city - most of the city had been destroyed by decades of neglect caused when the Selenites were first catching the germs spread by Cavor's cold.
Bedford put the article away, knowing from the long debates when the actual ferrying would take place. A new generation of Cavorite spheres were being constructed to handle dozens of passengers up to the moon. Bedford had seen the designs for the resort, and felt they would be comfortable and perfect for the tourist trade.
Sighing, Bedford closed the newspaper and placed it gently on his table. He would look at it later, but for now he would check his mail. There were quite a few there, most were from corporations talking about mining the moon, Mars and the adjacent bodies for minerals. Bedford sighed again - he might be old, but he wasn't stupid. Most of these corporations only wanted his support because of who they were, but truthfully Bedford had ceased being a businessman years ago. His dreams of making it big had died a slow and painful death, and it wasn't until his return to Earth that his hopes for space tourism had died out since he had no access to a source of Cavorite.
The corporations were just too late. Bedford had heard many such invitations before, and now he simply stopped listening and waiting for an opportunity to shine.
Bedford no longer cared about business or financial possibilities - he was a changed man. He had changed from a money grabbing opportunist to a paranoid man, scared of the moon. Now he had changed again into a man who dearly wanted to make things right between himself and Cavor's spirit. Cavor would never want anyone stripmining the solar system simply because they felt that it belonged to them. He would want it to be studied, and if life existed beyond Earth and the Moon then contact had to be made. Well, he would make sure it happened.
Throwing the offending letter into the bin he read another letter. This one was postmarked Cape Canaveral. Bedford hoped it wasn't going to be another invitation to see another launch - he had travelled so many times to different launch platforms as a guest of honor that his health was finding it hard to take.
There were limits to what his will and stubbornness to see those launches could take, even he had to yield. The letter wasn't what he pictured. It was an invitation, but not the kind he'd expected. Apparently a launch site was being built in Britain to ferry people up to the moon. Bedford sighed at that. There were elements of the British government were under the mistaken impression that Cavorite, being a British invention, should be under their control. That meant most expeditions would be launched from places like the Yorkshire moors or in Sussex. It didn't make any difference who had power over Cavorite since Bedford had made it clear on more than one occasion Cavorite belonged to everyone who had an interest in space travel.
But while there were elements who wished to control Cavorite, something he didn't understand since too many people knew how to make the stuff in other countries, and privately owned space research firms financed by private millionaires were springing up all the time who used the substance for their work, but there were more forward thinking members of the British Government who had the common sense to realise it was never going to happen. They had petitioned the idea to build a new launch platform to send ships to the moon. They too had seen the commercial possibilities of space tourism.
It seemed that NASA was hoping he would travel to the moon again to make the prospect more appealing for the masses though he couldn't understand why since the last few years letters had appeared from everyone for the chance to travel into space. He would apparently leave from England since they were aware of his deteriorating health. Bedford scoffed at that - he would've liked to say he was as fit as a fiddle, but he knew it to be a lie. He was simply too old to travel anywhere, but the attitude of the letter hinted there was no obligation to go. It was just a last chance trip to the moon.
Bedford slowly put the letter to one side. He had to admit it was tempting. But would he make it? He didn't know if his heart would take the strain of G force at his age and at his present state. He'd more likely die before the sphere even got through the atmosphere.
But a last chance to see the moon again... Bedford could never truly forget the wonder he had felt as he and Cavor had walked across the surface of the moon all those years ago, a feeling no one could truly describe to another unless they'd done it themselves. That was the problem with the spoken word, it was a poor substitute for the real thing. Words could not describe feelings too well, and even Bedford's retellings of the story couldn't transmit the exact feelings he'd had when he'd walked out on the surface of the moon. Bedford had often thought of seeing the moon again, of travelling there like he had done with Kate and Cavor in 1899, but would some of the nurses be willing to come?
There was a soft knock on the door, and one of the nurses came in to check on him. With her fair hair and blue eyes, she was almost a copy of Kate.
"Everything all right, Mr Bedford?" she asked softly.
Bedford smiled at her. "Yes, I was just reading my mail," he gestured to his post.
The nurse came in, glancing at the postmark and the NASA stamp in curiosity. "Anything interesting?" she asked in an attempt to make conversation.
"You could say that. NASA are inviting me to travel on the first commercial British flight to the moon to the new resort," he replied.
"But that's brilliant," the nurse turned to face him, her face alight with genuine interest and joy for him. "I don't mean to pry, but everytime we see a moon landing nowadays, you get this look in your eyes, like you wish you were there yourself."
Bedford blinked. He hadn't expected the nurses to be aware of some of his inner feelings and thoughts about returning to the moon.
"I'll admit, I am tempted to go," he said at last. "But I don't know if any of the nurses would be willing to go, or if I can make it myself-"
The nurse surprised him when she dragged a nearby chair over that was reserved for visitors and sat in it. "Mind if I tell you something?" she asked bluntly.
Bedford was so surprised he could do nothing more than nod. The nurse took her time to think her words through.
"Ever since people learnt about what you and your friends did in 1899, they've started looking up to you. You did something no-one else had ever done before. You travelled to the Moon, you, Katherine Calendar and Joseph Cavor, and you told the truth after years of being thought a crank before the 60s expedition to the moon. You gave them Cavorite and now everyone's going into space," she told him. "Many of us enjoy seeing you happy whenever space travel comes up, even if some can't understand it or get bored."
Bedford snorted, he'd lost count of the number of times some of the residents had fallen asleep because some bright young scientist had come to the home to talk about some radical new space mission. The problem was some of them felt that the only way to talk was to speak nonsense.
The nurse snorted herself, clearly seeing what Bedford was thinking just then.
"But do you think I should go, and take others with me?" Bedford whispered.
The nurse smiled gently. "I think," she began slowly, "we only live once."
With that she left the room leaving Bedford with a lot to think about.
After being the guest of honour at the newest launch, and the familiar feeling of being weighed down by the takeoff which had left him in pain for a few hours before the tourist sphere made it to the moon, Arnold Bedford was allowed to venture out onto the surface of the moon once again. Bedford liked his new spacesuit; the diver's suits he and Cavor had used in their original trip to the moon hadn't been very warm to wear in space. He'd always wondered what had motivated Cavor into simply buying suits like that for the trip, but it made more sense for him to buy an already existing resource that was available rather than tinker with something on his own and potentially make a fatal mistake. One of Arnold's biggest regrets was Kate hadn't ventured out on the surface of the moon and see its beauty, but today he could walk for the both of them.
Either way, he'd never know what had possessed Cavor - the only person who could truly answer that question was long gone, and even now extensive searches had failed to locate Cavor's remains.
In any event the new spacesuits felt much better than the crude spacesuits brought in 1899, and it showed. They were warmer, more padded than the layers of rubber Bedford had needed to wear on the surface of the moon. Escorted by two of his nurses, including that nice blonde one who'd spoken to him, Bedford took a cautious step onto the Lunar landscape. It hadn't really changed since his last visit, but the site of the small domes made from polarised glass-plastic were a new sight.
Bedford moved effortlessly over the lunar sand. The lower gravity up here allowed him a bit more mobility than on Terra Firma, but even here he had to be careful incase he injured himself because he'd leapt too high up into the air or something.
One of the nurses looked at the domes, the plasti-glass shining in the distance. "Why do we have to walk? Shouldn't there be a landing sight or something?"
"Part of the commission put in charge to govern the tourism industry into space," Bedford replied, "they believe the tourists should walk to get used to the lower gravity, to open their eyes for a brief time to show them what a holiday on the moon has to offer. Unofficially its because there is still ongoing research into making smoother takeoffs and landings with Cavorite spheres."
"I thought there were thrusters now?"
"There are. But the trouble is the launch requires the screens to be drawn at all times, otherwise the sphere would go off course. Its' gotten easier thanks to modern technology, and at least the landing in this sphere wasn't like the one I'd had before," Bedford said ruefully, remembering Kate's screams as the original sphere crashed and spun all over the moon before coming to a stop at a small rocky outcropping.
The nurses soon laughed as they performed the infamous acrobatics regardless of whether they were any good or not. Bedford watched them with misty eyes, the memory of Cavor's laughing face as he jumped up and down in that silver helmet of his before he acted drunk and started leaping over the place before getting trapped in a tight space.
Bedford did some small leaps to get himself into the spirit of things, all the time he moved closer to the domes, the nurses catching up with him with longer leaps. He envied the nurses' youthfulness and cursed his old age as he hobbled towards the domes which was the only reason he didn't leap too high.
It had been a long journey, and Bedford had been over the moon (no pun intended) to find that the sphere taking him to the lunar resort was specially fitted with the right equipment to ensure geriatrics with weak bodies didn't get crushed like a tin can. For the last few years he had seen the launch of dozens of space vessels, amazed and awed by the complex blending of 1899 technology and NASA ingenuity, but he had never expected himself to be launched in one; there was a difference between reality and imagination, after all.
Bedford stopped and took a wide look at the surrounding landscape. He knew he was going to die soon, but at least he would make peace up here with Cavor.
Fours days of living on the Moon tired Bedford out, but they were the happiest, and the most solemn days of his life. He had enjoyed exploring the moon properly, riding on the buggies and entering the Moon hoppers - vehicles that took advantage of the lower gravity to cover massive distances - to see more of the surface than he had in 1899.
One of the agreements Bedford had made with NASA was permission to visit the remains of the Selenite civilisation. It was like stepping back in time and meeting the Ancient Egyptians at their height, but for Bedford, who was partially the reason they were extinct, it was more profound. The successive expeditions to the Moon had managed to rebuild enough of the city to make their studies possible, but much of it was completely gone and much of it was inaccessible to a man like Bedford who found it harder and harder to move each day.
As he walked through the areas that had been rebuilt, Bedford's body felt heavier in a way that wasn't possible in the lunar gravity. He was too immersed in his memories. He'd been here, given into his primitive instincts and he'd lashed out at the Selenites. Now they were gone and they were not the monsters he'd imagined. Worse, Cavor had died here. God knew what the Selenites had done after their encounter, but Bedford could imagine.
After Bedford and the others returned to Earth, they noticed the massive smile on his face.
A day after his return to Earth, Arnold Bedford, the final member of the original expedition to the Moon, passed away in his sleep. But in his legacy space exploration continued.
The End.