Moonfall

By Roger Greider

A university graduate assistant, Greg Stevens,studying physics, learns that a giant meteor he has been tracking is going to cross the moon's orbit. It actually hits the moon, slowing it and shattering it into small rocks and dust, which fall to Earth. During the twenty-eight day spiraling descent of the debris, Greg fills his pre-WWII fallout shelter with whatever he thinks might help him survive the confluence.

He emerges months later to find a moutainous moonscape around him. A few miles away he finds an armory basment full of necessities, including food, fuel and vehicles. A young boy, Albert, joins him, and he meets a college-age girl, Lee, at an airport, where he had taken flying lessons.

Greg and Lee rescue five children and romance blossoms, as they become a family. Using an airplane, he and Lee discover they are on an island, and they share their supplies with survivors that show up. They form a 'Company' and choose Greg as their Captain.

Julia is asked to be the religious leader and she influences them to accept polygamy, since there are twice as many women as men. She also gets them to vow, "I'm going to enjoy the life I've been privileged to keep and help others to enjoy life also."

Carla, an attractive woman, Greg's age, joins Greg's family. Lee likes her; controlling occasional feelings of jealousy. They name the island Atlantis.

Dr. Gwen Vries, an administrator in what's left of a univeristy north of the mountains, has convinced the surviving professors that she should be President, and she tries to extend her control to the area south of the mountains.

Civil war erupts, and her followers defect. Greg prefers teaching to politics and sets up an oligarchy, ruled by the Atlantis Council, a group of people who have proved themselves to be honest and talented.

After thirty years of industrial and economic growth and a burgeoning population, Atlantis establishes a colony, Plymouth, on the mainland.

A tribe of vicious cannibals, armed with crossbows, attacks Plymouth. Greg's adopted children and Carla join the effort to handle the problem, while the Atlantis Council receives a disturbing radio message. A town, New DC, claims to be the capitol of the US, and John Claymore has been chosen to be The President.

A radio dialog ensues, and New DC says its Air Force has annihilated the cannibal terrorists. The Atlantis Council is skeptical but follows the radio signal with three jet aircraft to salute New DC for their victory. While doing a wing waggle salute over the small town's single hangar airport, the Atlantis pilots notice the New DC air force consists of three antique Stearman biplane trainers.

New DC sends the message that Claymore has resigned and New DC recognizes the Atlantis Council as the government of the US.

Greg realizes Atlantis is no Shangri-La, but he is happy with Lee and Carla, and he is proud of the younger generation, who are taking over his new world. He is excited about his physics professorship at the new university and feels that life is just beginning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roger Greider
• Release date: Sep 25, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466182240

Roger Greider

Roger Greider was born in Topeka, KS in 1924. In 1928 he moved with his family to Tulsa, OK where he lived until 1943. Graduating from Will Rogers High School, he attended Tulsa University for one year before enlisting in the Army at age nineteen. On the front line in Europe, he was promoted from Private to Staff Sergeant, earning three ‘Bronze Stars. After his honorable discharge in 1945, he attended Tulsa University, earning Bachelor of Arts Degrees in both music and mathematics and a Master of Arts in Math. He was employed as a mathematician in the Basic Research Division of Jersey Production Research Co. And in his thirties, while taking graduate work in both music and math at The Univ. Of Tennessee, he played first desk second violin in the Knoxville Symphony. From 1945 to 1970, he directed church choirs, played in many string quartets and Sang in barbershop quartets. From 1961 to 1964 he was an associate professor of mathematics at The State University of New York, campus at Oneonta. And while he was there, he played in the Oneonta Symphony, sang in a barbershop quartet and directed the Sweet Adelines In 1965 he enrolled at the University Of Oklahoma, where he earned a second Master of Science degree in math and a Ph.D. in mathematics education. He then taught mathematics at Oklahoma City university, The University of Central Oklahoma and Rose State College, where he was the Dean of the Engineering And Science Division. Roger now lives in Oklahoma City, happily married to his beautiful wife, Judy, who is a retired Doctor of Pharmacy. They enjoy membership in Quail Creek Golf and Country Club. Between them they have three sons, a daughter, six grandchildren and, at the moment, eight great grandchildren. He has published his war memoirs, “Warrior, A True Account of a WWII GI,” a 2nd edition, “Temporary Warrior” and five novels: “Moonfall,” “Time Tangle,” “The Chicken Yard,” “Time Ship,” and “The Trust.” As of November, 2013, he continues to write.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Jim, the night watchman glanced at his wrist. Good morning Mr. Stevens. You're at the observatory early this morning. Did you forget to set your clocks forward?

Greg Stevens was the only student janitor called ‘Mister’ by the university employees. He was five years older than the average student and aware of everything happening on campus. He smiled and acknowledged the greeting. No. I wanted to get here before class to look at the data Dr. Evans gathered from observations of Jumbo last night.

"Hey, isn't that your meteor−the one you found?"

Yes, but I shouldn't take the credit. I discovered it by accident while I was working on Dr. Evens’ project. He's helping me track it now.

The way you work for that man like a slave is one of the first things I noticed when I came to work here last year. I never saw anything like it. And I think you know more about astronomy than he does.

"I wish! I owe him a lot. I almost dropped out after Helen died. But being around him, watching him with his students and listening to his counseling, I decided I wanted to spend the rest of my life teaching. Because of him, I got my graduate assistantship and the school let me keep my custodial job too. He got me to stop wasting money on flying lessons, which kept me from losing my house."

You can give him the credit, if you want to, but you kept that house because of your hard work. It sure is a nice house.

Thanks. My wife picked it out. She died before you were hired. I think she married me only because I made the down payment with the money I had saved for college. She was in one of Dr. Evans' classes and introduced us. Before I knew it, I was his assistant, and the work we're doing together now will help me write the dissertation for my Doctorate.

In the office, Greg finished his calculations, using the new data. As he concentrated, massaging his forehead, his eyes widened and he whispered to himself, My God! His hands dropped to the desk and he went over the figures again. That rogue has to be from outer space and it's rocketing into the solar system. After checking one more time, he reached for the phone.

Dialing, he shifted back and forth in his chair, tapping his fingernails on the desk, making the sound of a galloping horse until Evans answered. Dr. Evans, I apologize for calling so early, but I've just looked at last night's data and I'm sure you'll want to see what I've concluded. I hope you'll tell me I'm wrong.

I know, and I don’t think you are, Greg. I didn't go to sleep until an hour or two ago, worrying about it. All my life I've heard talk about the end of the World, never dreaming I'd live to see it. But it looks like I will if that big rock comes as close as I think. Even if it doesn't hit us we're in trouble. I can't believe I didn't see it until you pointed it out to me. How big do you think it is?

I don't want to guess, but it's scary big. It could be the size of Texas, and its velocity is unbelievable. I agree with you; just coming close could spell disaster.

Greg, I'd like for you to download my model of its path onto your computer and I'll keep you up to date on my observations so you can work on it at home. As soon as I get to the lab, I'll put in secret calls to the other observatories and get some engineers involved. But it's your baby. We should change its name to 'Stevens, 1.' What are your thoughts on the possibility of altering its path?

"With our present technology, I doubt we can do that. But I'm no engineer. As to the name, I think 'Jumbo' is fine. I don't want my name on something that's going to extinguish life on Earth. It looks like the only thing that would save us is for it to hit another large body first, but I could be wrong. I'm sure there are a lot of scientists that are smarter than I am."

I don't know about that, but I don't think there are any other large bodies in its path. Don't talk about this to anyone yet. Let's finish today in our usual routine and get together tomorrow to decide what to do.

Greg went to his physics class, took a few notes and feigned attention, but his mind was on the basement room under the garage of his house. It was half full of old furniture and things that came from Helen's family. The house had been constructed during the nineteen sixties when the Country was going through an atomic bomb scare, and the room was built as a bomb shelter.

At home, that afternoon, Greg went down the dusty, littered stairwell and looked critically at the room. If the giant meteor didn't come too close to Earth it might be a safe place to hole up. With enough time it could be filled with survival supplies and as many books from the university library as he could get.

Bill and Carrie Collins, down the street, also had one of the bomb shelters. Maybe they would want to follow his example. He decided to tell Bill about it when the time was right. Greg also thought of Dr. Evans and of Wanda, the girl he had been dating lately. She was a cousin of Carrie that worked in the university library. But the shelter could store only a finite amount of survival provisions−he decided to think about it later.

Wanda usually finished her library shift at eleven pm, and they frequently arranged to meet as he arrived on Campus to clean the laboratories. He didn't see her that night, but he let himself in with his master key and looked through the shelves of advanced mathematics, science and engineering.

The next day he told Dr. Evans about Bill's shelter and of his own plans, and he was disappointed in Evans’ response. I'm afraid you'll be wasting your time.

You may be right, but I wish you would come with me. We could rob the library and put the big encyclopedia and a few hundred science and engineering technology books in the shelter. I've been going with the assistant librarian; maybe she'll help us. The books might be as valuable as food and water.

No, Greg. I'm truly sorry. I've no interest in adventure, or in saving the world. But I wish you good luck. He laughed. I'd say we have about one and a half chances in a million, so I'll be wasting my time too, collecting data that will be destroyed with everything else on Earth. I'll throw a big going away party just before the disaster. You can bring Helen's sister, Mable. And bring your friends, Bill and Carrie and your librarian partner in crime.

I'm sorry too, Dr. Evans. Thanks for the invitation to your party. I don't think Mable would come. I don't know about Wanda and the others, but I'm going to be very busy.

OK, my friend. I'll continue to send you the updates on Jumbo's path. And I think your idea of raiding the Library is good. Don't forget medical books. I can help you get all you want. Being a big wheel around here gives me certain advantages. Get Wanda to help box them up and stack them on the loading dock at the back of the building. I'll have them delivered to your house.

Chapter 2

The book heist went smoothly and Greg arranged his library neatly in the shelter. The next morning he answered the phone. He had been lying awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to collect his thoughts. Greg, have you been watching the news?

Just got up Bill. What's happening?

Turn on your television. There's a big meteor headed for us. You need to get that guy you're working for at school to look at it with his telescope.

Greg wasn't surprised that the story had leaked, but he didn't know how much to tell Bill. Yes, he knows about it. It looks like it might be a problem.

Yeah? Do you think so? The news report said there might be some storms, but they don't expect them to cause any real damage. Maybe we should put some stuff in our storm shelters. What do you think?

Sounds like a good Idea. I'll let you know what's happening at the observatory. It'll be a while before Jumbo gets close to us. But it wouldn't hurt to stock up on some emergency provisions.

"That's what I mean. Oh yeah, when Carrie heard the news, she said it would be all right with her if you shared your shelter with her cousin, Wanda. You know−since you've been dating and get along so well. She might want to stay with us, but ours is so small, you know; it would be awful crowded. Wanda and I dated before I met Carrie. And Carrie's kind of−you know. If there are storms, they probably won't last long. What do you think?"

Preoccupied with his own knowledge of the extreme danger, Greg forced himself to keep his breathing slow and even. He wanted to say, In a few days we'll probably all be dead anyway, so it doesn't matter who stays where. But trying to avoid upsetting Bill, he said, Sure. If you think she might want to stay here, I'll ask her.

Hey, that's great. Hold the phone for a minute. Carrie's talking to me−she wants to thank you. If you're not busy tomorrow, come over for supper. Wanda will be here too.

At supper, Wanda accepted Greg's offer, and the days slid by with the four of them scrounging supplies. They continued to watch the news and, except for Greg, who was periodically receiving Evans' downloads of Jumbo's path, they were comforted by the headlines: Meteor's Path To Be Changed, World Scientists Working To Avoid Disaster; and as the monster neared the Solar System: Big Rock Will Miss Planets.

Then, after hearing the report, Only Manageable Tides Expected, Bill said, Wow, is that good news or is that good news. It looks like we lucked out.

We might be OK, Greg said, but I'm still receiving updates on the meteor, and I think we should continue our preparations.

While they gathered supplies, Jumbo hurtled closer under the watchful eyes of the World’s observatories. And days before its arrival, it was close enough to be seen without a telescope. Bill and Carrie were watching it with Greg as it disappeared behind the moon, apparently missing it. But when it reappeared it had separated into several pieces, which were speeding off into space, taking a large portion of the moon with them in a heavy trail of dust.

Bill looked at it in glee. There it goes, and it's breakin’ up. Our worries are over. He laughed. I guess we was over-doin’ it with gettin’ all them provisions. Hey; let's have a party.

We'd better wait a while before partying, Greg said. That shattered meteor and all the dust means it smashed into the back side of the moon pretty hard. And they were traveling in opposite directions with a fantastic closing speed. The moon's orbit will probably change, and we'll have to see how that's going to affect us.

Over the next few days, with growing concern, the four of them watched the Moon as it started coming apart. I could be wrong, Greg said, but from the angle of impact, the moon's speed has probably decreased, which means it might fall into a degenerating orbit. And those chunks are crumbling into smaller pieces in a dust cloud.

Wanda covered her face. I don't want to hear about it.

Bill said, Don’t take it wrong, Greg, but I’d rather believe the reports on the news. Most scientists say the debris will settle into a stable elliptical orbit. A degeneratin’ orbit is too horrible to contemplate.

Stop, Wanda said, moving toward the door, crying. I don't want to hear any more.

Greg tried to keep her from leaving, holding her arm. But Carrie said, Let her go, Greg. She'll be all right.

After Wanda left, Carrie continued, She'll be back. There's nothing we can do. I've known her all of her life; she's just naturally high-strung.

Bill said, "I’m glad she ain’t staying in our shelter, Carrie. If the storms them guys is talking about is bad, I don't think I could stand her Whinin’."

Carrie glared at him, raising her voice. She's my cousin. Stop criticizing her!

Bill yelled, I ain't criticizin’ her, I was just…

Greg put his hand up, laughing. Whoa; fighting each other will only make matters worse. Let’s cool down. The media reports might be right. It's possible we'll be perfectly safe. I’ll apologize to Wanda for being so pessimistic.

Carrie said, "But the moon is so big. If it falls on us, won't it break us up like the meteor broke it−or bury us hundreds of miles deep? The shelters would be worthless."

What you say, Carrie, sounds right, Greg said, "but there are things you haven't taken into account: The remaining pieces of the moon are traveling at only a small fraction of the meteor's speed. They’ll skid into the other side of the Earth in the same direction we’re rotating and will spread out over only part of the surface. Many of them will burn up it the atmosphere. And the damage around us might not be bad."

When Wanda returned, Carrie gave her a hug and reassured her, Greg thinks we have a good chance of getting through this thing OK.

Greg said, According to Evans' data, the moon won’t get here for twenty days. And my computations indicated most of the debris will pepper the other side of the earth, leaving the area around us relatively undamaged. There will probably some damage to the atmosphere, and the Earth's crust will have to expand a bit to accommodate the greater mass. But if we continue to gather provisions, we can hope to wait it out underground.

Chapter 3

On the last day, as the aggregate of the fractured moon raced overhead, Greg hurried over to Bill's house for a final talk before buttoning up. The sun was hidden but the day was bright with the fiery streaks of moon dust. When he returned, Wanda had left, leaving him a note. Dear Greg, forgive me. I know I'd have gone crazy and made life unbearable for you.

He flipped his cell on and dialed, amazed that it still functioned. Bill, have you seen Wanda?

"We seen her yesterday. She's scared to go down into a shelter. Carrie and me try to convince her she would be safer, but she says she'd feel better staying up in the fresh air, pretendin’ it ain't gonna to happen. Me, I'd rather get into my cellar first and then pretend it ain’t gonna happen."

It's going to happen, Bill, and she's gone. She left a note.

"I don't understand her. I guess she really meant it. She told Carrie she couldn't stand the thought of being buried in a concrete room and talked about killing herself, but we didn't think she was serious. After a long pause, Bill continued. Hell, Greg−there ain’t nothing any of us can do about it−I'm sorry."

Greg knew Bill was right but couldn't think of anything appropriate to say that wouldn’t offend Carrie. He finally said, Maybe she'll be better off than us. Tell Carrie I'm sorry too. And it's time for the two of you to button up. That's what I'm doing. I'll let you go now and see you when it's over. We'll share our survival provisions.

You bet, Greg. See ya later.

Flipping the phone off, Greg swallowed and took a deep breath, knowing it was going to be a lot worse than he had let on. He looked around at Helen's things−things he was probably seeing for the last time, trying to think of anything he had forgotten; but he couldn't concentrate. He wondered if Bill had seen through his brave words.

He was still holding the phone when it rang. A harsh voice followed his greeting.

Gregory? Mable knew he didn't like to be called Gregory, and he was sure she did it maliciously. She repeated, Gregory, Dr. Wiemer has called a meeting, and you need to come down to the church right away.

The way she could turn a seemingly caring message into verbal abuse by the tone of her voice always amazed him. Dr. Wiemer says people like you cause these disasters. Oh yes, I know about you. Helen told me how you wanted to make love all the time. But Dr. Wiemer says that we have to forgive you. Greg rolled his eyes upward and to the side, leaning his head back and shaking it slowly in a motion of futility. Mable had always been eager to listen to Helen's exaggerated stories. Actually Helen tolerated his amorous attention only on rare occasions.

Thanks for the invitation, Mable, but I have plans for the night.

Don’t expect your girl-friend, Wanda. She’s here and she told me what you were going to do. Dr. Wiemer says to have faith, and he will take care of us. You get down to this church right now. It’s so embarrassing, Gregory, to have a brother-in-law like you.

As she continued, Greg listened until the moon debris was beginning to disappear over the horizon before he interrupted her, calmly. Mable, I hope Wiemer succeeds in helping everyone, but I'll have to turn down the invitation. You enjoy the meeting, and if we're both still here tomorrow, we can talk about it then. Bye now.

Going outside, he watched and listened to the scene. Streaks of fire were racing across the sky and above them were millions of small pieces of the fractured moon. Some of them were glowing, tumbling crazily, charging across the sky like a buffalo herd. In the mixture of sounds, he could almost hear the rumble of their hooves and their bellowing cries.

Descending the steps into the shelter, Greg hoped the concrete structure would hold together. He left the door ajar and tried to relax on the recliner, the only piece of furniture he had taken from the house. These moments of physical comfort on Earth would be his last, he thought. He knew portions of the Earth's surface would be flooded with hot magma. And even if he were not buried or consumed in fire, he would have to survive violent storms.

As the minutes passed, he began to think he had been wrong. If the moon debris didn't start hitting soon, it would keep racing around the globe toward him, and his shelter would wind up beneath a mountain. He waited, listening to a roaring crescendo.

Had the computer model been wrong and would he soon know what it was like to die? He looked at the west wall, knowing it would fold down over him and squash him like a bug. It would only take a second. Lying there, with the earsplitting noise demanding all of his attention, he resigned himself to his fate, and he was surprised to find that he was relaxed and unafraid.

The light flickered and went out, and things started to shake violently. Jumping up, he reached out, grabbed the handle, and slammed the door shut, bolting it. Then with the flashlight in his hand he held onto the top of a heavy oxygen cylinder. He hugged it to steady himself and struggled to hold on.

As the shaking became worse, both he and the cylinder were thrown about in the dark as though they were in a washing machine. With everything crashing about, the noise was deafening. Was moon debris landing on and near the house? Then a sharper pain joined the excruciating assault on his eardrums.

Later−he didn't know how much later, he heard a man crying out in agony and he awoke listening to his own voice. He hurt all over, especially his head. The jumbled pile of supplies pressed in on him from all sides. He wondered how long he would be able to stand it. The minutes seemed like hours. For a long time he thought his head was beneath a heavy stack of containers, but then he discovered he could move it a little. He moaned as he struggled, getting one hand free to soothe the aching knot on his temple.

He gradually worked himself out of the pile, realizing the noise and shaking had settled down to distant rumblings and minor vibrations. As the minutes went by, the blackness in front of his face seemed to be pressing into the back of his eyes. He had never experienced the total absence of light for more than a few seconds, and it played on his mind. Was not seeing his hand in front of his face the result of the darkness, or because the blows on his head had robbed him of his sight? Fighting panic, he freed the other arm and gently felt his eyelids and the sore places on his face, discovering there was nothing on top of him.

Examining his bones he couldn't identify any particular brake but it felt like there were multiple fractures. He almost hyperventilated as he crawled around in pain, searching for the flashlight he had dropped. When he found it, its glow made him light headed with joy. Feeling its comfort, he made a note to always know where it was and to save the batteries as much as he could. He located his medical supplies, doctored his abrasions and took some analgesic tablets.

With his head throbbing, he attempted to stand, but lost his balance, screaming as he fell against a pile of boxes. He rested there for a few minutes and surveyed the mess. While he waited, the pain began to subside, and he noticed the room was tilted.

The corner next to the door had been elevated, and a disturbing thought came to him. What if debris had collected in the stairwell, holding the door closed? Or worse, what if a mountain were on top of the shelter? He decided that doing nothing but lying there thinking about it would not help.

Enduring the pain of movement, he unbolted the door, positioned himself and began to push. It didn't budge. So he used the lever that had been installed to free the door if it jammed, and he jumped back in surprise as water sprayed in.

Stunned, he stopped prying and the spray stopped. Was the shelter under water? If it were, it couldn't be very deep, because the top of the air vent wasn't under water−or was it? He turned the handle. No fresh air came in. His back stiffened as he fought a wave of panic.

He had never thought about how the vent mechanism worked; but the water was evidently there and something had sealed it off. Had the water come from a lake? An ocean? He concluded that the collision had caused more change in Earth's topography than he had expected.

Fighting off fear, his thoughts came quickly, at random. He tasted the water−no salt−it might be a rerouted river, or an overturned water table. The water was probably still moving. He might pry the door open and escape to the surface. How long before opening the door? The bottles of oxygen were now a very important possession among his survival gear.

The room trembled off and on, and he thought he could hear the water moving, along with the other sounds. Where was the rumbling sound coming from? The frequency of the vent drips increased and the hissing coming from door seal continued. There were also scary creaking and grinding sounds.

Turning on the flashlight again, he trained it on the low corner of the room. The bottoms of the boxes were wet. A small stream was running to the low spot from the faulty door.

He Calmed down and breathed deeply. Thinking he might be wasting his effort, he soon cleared a spot at the low corner. Estimating the volume of water that had collected and the rate at which it was rising, he calculated the time it would take it to reach the top of the door. He decided he could float some of his supplies to the surface if he was not too deep.

Positioning a can to catch the dripping water, he opened the valve slightly on an oxygen cylinder. Its sound joined the other sounds of his tomb. He stretched out on what was left of the recliner and tried to relax, deciding there was nothing to do but wait.

His thoughts turned to Helen. After her death, he had become a loner. But wanting to be alone in a city, where friends and associates were available was different than being alone because other people didn't exist. He thought of the students he had as a graduate assistant, being sure that few, if any, had survived. He would miss them.

Beginning each semester, they were only names and faces, but soon the girls were all beautiful and the boys were all handsome. The first time it happened he couldn't believe it. It had become a large part of his motivation to continue teaching. His classes, along with the rest of his past life, were now only a string of memories−memories that were lulling him to sleep.

He dreamed he was in a classroom. The students were doing an experiment. The buffalo had been