"Not too late. No, suh! I goin' to Mars, yes I am, and I beat the Chinese, too. Even if I hafta make my own spaceship, me."- Jubal Broussard, Red Thunder
Having just finished reading Red Thunder by John Varley, a guardedly acceptable little read in the home-made spaceship genre, my mind turns to the portrayal in SF of space exploration by individuals. (I describe Red Thunder as "guardedly acceptable" because it was a very light read, and other than the sex* would be an ideal read for a bright twelve-year old. But, to be fair, it's reasonably entertaining, well written and so forth.)
The plot of Red Thunder is strongly reminiscent of one of those Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney movies, the ones where someone says, "Hey, gang, let's put on a show!", except in this case it's "Hey, gang, let's go to Mars!" Instead of an uncle with a big barn, these plucky teens meet an alcoholic ex-astronaut whose idiot savant cousin has invented a sort of Rube Goldberg power source that will allow them to beat those nasty Chinese to Mars and to save some of the crew from a failed NASA mission.
Similar (although perhaps more cynical) entries into the do-it-yourself spaceship category can be found in The Daleth Effect by Harry Harrison and The Mouse on the Moon, by Leonard Wibberley, both of which deal with small countries that trump the great world powers by discovering miraculous means of propulsion that they utilize in makeshift spaceships.
As a sign of changing times, the Danish astronauts rescue stranded Russian astronauts in The Daleth Effect, written in 1970 - apparently the Chinese have replaced the Soviets as the people to beat, if Red Thunder is an accurate barometer.
In science fiction from the 40's and 50's, the concept of the individually owned spaceship is a commonplace one, with oceangoing vessels providing the analogy. Obviously, the man on the street won't own the Queen Mary, but if he's in a high enough tax bracket, he might well have some kind of little sailboat that he can use for weekend trips. (If he's sufficiently foolhardy, he can even try to cross the Atlantic - or go to Mars - in his little ship.)
Cargo haulers, passenger liners, luxury yachts and warships commonly ply the spaceways in the writing from this period, along with the occasional tramp freighter that will barely hold air, and even a few pirates now and then. And, to continue the analogy, private explorers seeking literal "new worlds" might obtain funding from corporations or governments, as did Columbus, but still maintain their independent status.
The 60's introduced the world to a different paradigm: space travel is so expensive and difficult that it's impossible for anyone but a major global power. It's difficult to think of any other activity so completely elitist in its financial demands, as witnessed by the fact that the Space Race only had two competitors. (Full credit to the X Prize winners, but in the nautical analogy above, compared to NASA they're like people going over Niagara Falls in a barrel.)
Red Thunder provides an interesting comment on this phenomenon, one which I hadn't really given a lot of thought: the approach taken by the Soviets and the Americans was the least efficient way of doing things. In the course of the story, the ex-astronaut describes the method used by the USA to reach the Moon as being like Columbus sinking all three of his ships on the way to America, making the trip back to Europe in a lifeboat, and sinking that in the Straits of Gibraltar and swimming the rest of the way back to Spain with a life preserver.
The spendthrift approach used by the Apollo missions is explained as being a side effect of American hubris: any expense or wastage was justified in order to win the race first, rather than winning the race efficiently. That distinction now in place, we'll take a look at efficient space travel in the next posting.
