Operation Springboard

By John Ball

Chester Pawling, keenly interested in space travel, is invited to work at a base in the South Pacific where the great scientist, Dr. Havensson, is conducting highly secret experiments. That is just the beginning of a grand adventure that fulfils Chester’s dream of traveling into space. But it is not simple or safe. A rival national group has launched a rocket ship and a dangerous space race has begun. Chester, who is physically handicapped, gets more than one chance to prove that he is as capable as any other member of the crew.

OPERATION SPRINGBOARD is a juvenile science fiction novel (published first in 1958) by John Ball. Ball is best known for mystery novels involving the African-American police detective Virgil Tibbs. Tibbs was introduced in the 1965 novel IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT, which won the Edgar Award for Best First Novel from the Mystery Writers of America and was made into an Oscar-winning film of the same name. Ball's departure from the mystery genre was a bestselling what-if political thriller THE FIRST TEAM. Mr. Ball was also a member of the Aviation Space Writers Association and served for a time as the public relations director of the Institute of Aerospace Sciences. His interest in and knowledge of aviation and space add a sense of authenticity to OPERATION SPRINGBOARD that was not always present in the young adult science fiction of the period.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thunderchild Publishing
• Release date: Jan 31, 2024
• ISBN: 9781479476039

John Ball

John Ball was an American writer best known for mystery novels involving the African-American police detective Virgil Tibbs. Tibbs was introduced in the 1965 novel In the Heat of the Night, which won the Edgar Award for Best First Novel from the Mystery Writers of America and was made into an Oscar-winning film of the same name.

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Table of Contents

OPERATION SPRINGBOARD

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

OPERATION SPRINGBOARD

JOHN BALL

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 1958, 1986 by John Ball. This edition published by arrangement with Kesang Ball.

All rights reserved.

Edited by Dan Thompson

A Thunderchild eBook

Published by Thunderchild Publishing

First Edition: July 1958

First Thunderchild eBook Edition: July 2013

Cover design by Dan Thompson.

CHAPTER ONE

LECTURE ON SPACE

ALTHOUGH the lecture was not scheduled to start until eight-fifteen, by seven-thirty the auditorium was packed. Every seat was taken, and there were hundreds standing at the back and along the side walls. The tension in the air was so great it could almost be seen and felt. There was a plain lectern on one side of the stage, two or three stiff chairs behind it, and a large projection screen in the centre. It was hard to wait—and to try to keep down the excitement that had me all stirred up inside. I was extremely lucky to have a seat, and I knew it. I owed it all to Dick West, a good friend of mine who is copy boy on the Journal.

At five minutes past eight three men appeared on the stage. It was a moment that no one there could ever possibly forget. Two of those men attracted no particular attention, but the third was Havensson himself, actually in person. I stared at him as did everyone else. He was just like his pictures, tall, average in build, and with high, prominent cheekbones. Everyone in the auditorium stood up, and a tremendous, spontaneous ovation filled the hall. After a moment Havensson and one of the men sat down: the third stepped forward to the lectern. I didn’t recognize him, but I knew that he was Dr. Griswold, the president of the State Geographical Society. He had been chosen as the logical man to have the honour of introducing Havensson.

He waited a full half-minute, and then waved his arms for silence. Gradually the noise subsided. As soon as he could, Dr. Griswold began his introduction. I had my notebook ready and took down his words as he spoke them.

Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Griswold began, I promise you that I will be brief. Tonight all of us here are to have a very great privilege. In a few moments we are to hear from the man who, without question, will go down in history as one of the greatest explorers the world has ever known. You know the many immortal names that reach across the years of human history: Marco Polo, Leif Ericson, Christopher Columbus, Magellan, Perry, Lindbergh, Hillary and Tenzing—every one of these names charges us with a strange excitement. These are all men who did things never before achieved, and did them superlatively well. Now, seated on this platform is the man whom history may well record as the greatest explorer of them all. Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Thor Havensson.

As Dr. Havensson rose to his feet, the ovation began all over again. He stepped to the lectern and waited, but the applause would not subside. After an interval he raised his hand for silence, but it brought only a fresh burst of enthusiasm. Then Dr. Havensson nodded backstage, and the house lights snapped off. A moment later a blurred picture filled the projection screen. A great awed hush settled over the audience as all of us stared at the screen. There, seemingly actually before our eyes, was the tall slender shape of what appeared to be an immense, man-carrying rocket.

As soon as the silence was nearly complete, Dr. Havensson began to speak.

Mr. Chairman, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen. Ever since primitive man looked into the sky and marveled at the mystery of the burning sun, humanity has felt the urge to explore beyond the feeble limits of the space to which we have all hitherto been confined. This is the same universal desire that makes us want to know what lies over the ridge of the next hill, the nature of distant continents, the way to the summit of an unclimbed mountain, or what is to be found in the depths of unknown space.

For the next five minutes Dr. Havensson sketched the history of exploration. I was terribly impatient for him to get on—I knew all about the explorers of history, or at least as much as Havensson was telling us now. I wanted him to talk about the base in the South Pacific that was under his command and which was so protected that no ship or plane, except those going there, was allowed within two hundred miles of it. They were all asked to keep away, and it was widely hinted that it would be much safer for them if they did.

Dr. Havensson talked about rockets and how they have come to be looked upon as the logical way of escaping from the gravity of the earth. He discussed the beginnings of space exploration with the Sputniks, Explorers, and shots at the moon. He talked about what we had learned from these early experiments. It was all interesting, but I had heard most of it before. You see, ever since I was ten I have read everything I could find and lay my hands on about flying and especially space travel. So far, Havensson hadn’t said a thing that I didn’t already know. And I sensed that he wasn’t going to, either.

Unfortunately I was right. He talked about some of the benefits to be derived from visiting other bodies in the solar system, including our own moon. He told, for example, how the lower gravity of the moon would make it an ideal place for health sanatoria for heart patients, with proper artificial atmospheres and temperature controls, of course. Then after he had been speaking for about thirty-five minutes, Dr. Havensson showed us a whole series of pictures. Not one of them disclosed the Pacific base or what was going on there. There were many pictures made from models, including the rocket that had been shown on the screen before the lecture began –

As soon as the pictures were over, Dr. Havensson pulled a genuine surprise that more than made up for any possible sense of disappointment.

I have brought with me, he announced, a very important member of our party. He comes from South Africa; I presume that you have heard of Theodore Malone.

Of course we had. Theodore Malone was the man who had been selected as chief pilot for the whole project; he was to take Havensson and his crew on the greatest trip ever made by man! At the mention of Malone’s name, there was immediate, enthusiastic applause.

At this point, Dr. Havensson continued, many of you must have questions in your mind concerning our work: why we are doing it, what we hope to accomplish, and many other things. I am going to be frank with you and say that there are a great many things that, for reasons of security, we can’t tell you at this time. But if you have some questions that do not deal with the parts of our work that are currently secret, you are now invited to ask them. Mr. Malone will take over to supply the answers, since he is much better informed on many phases of space flight than I am.

That wasn’t true, of course, but it was a nice thing to say. Dr. Havensson sat down and Theodore Malone, now easily the most famous pilot in the world, stepped behind the lectern. This was an unexpected treat; you could see that the whole audience was excited all over again.

I took a good look at Malone. He might have been thirty-five, and as he stood there he seemed completely relaxed and at ease. The fact that he was from South Africa didn’t show in any way—he was sandy-haired and had blue eyes. Blue eyes and African sunlight didn’t seem like the right combination, but I couldn’t think of any good reason why.

If you have any questions that I might be able to answer, I’ll be glad to try, he said. Malone’s voice had a trace of a British accent. It impressed me as the voice of a man in thorough command of himself.

A woman asked if they expected to find people on Mars. Treating the question seriously, Malone told her that animal life on any of the other planets was a highly uncertain matter, but that vegetation on Mars was a distinct possibility.

There was a long quiet; everyone was afraid to speak. I realized that Malone would wait another minute or so, and then if there were no further questions, the whole thing would be over. That couldn’t be allowed to happen! I didn’t want to be conspicuous, but if someone didn’t ask a question, and quickly, what might be the most interesting part of the evening would be lost. I put up my hand–.

Mr. Malone saw it and nodded to me at once. The young man over there has a question, he said. I think that he was a little grateful that he was not left just standing there.

I tried to speak up clearly, but it was difficult. Dr. Havensson told us, I said, that the moon might be an ideal place for heart patients and others who would benefit from a lower permanent gravity.

Malone nodded that I was right so far.

He also told us, I continued, about the tremendous acceleration anyone riding a rocket ship would have to endure. Since people in poor health, especially heart patients, couldn’t ride in rockets for this reason, is there any other known way in which they might be taken to the moon?

You have asked a good question, he said, a very good question. The best answer that I can give you is to say that we can see certain things ahead, such as health sanatoria on the moon, and at the same time we have to admit that we don’t always know how to bring them about. New things are being developed all the time, and it may be that we will find a solution to the dilemma that you have so very clearly pointed out. You are right that heart patients probably couldn’t ride in rockets; we will have to find some other way to get them to the moon. We would welcome any suggestions. Perhaps you will be the man to give us one.

I knew that that wasn’t an invitation, but it sounded enough like one to give me a chance. For years I had had an idea, and the more I had thought about it, the more convinced I had become that it might work. I decided to speak up.

Suppose you forgot all about rockets, I said, and tried boats instead.

For just a moment Mr. Malone didn’t do a thing, then he smiled and very definitely brushed me off.

That’s ingenious, he replied, and perhaps someday we can look into it. Are there any more questions?

I had broken the ice enough so that there were several. It wasn’t until three-quarters of an hour later that Dr. Griswold stood up and politely called a halt. There was a parting ovation for the speakers and everyone prepared to leave.

I waited in my seat until the aisles were fairly clear. Then I reached under my seat for my crutches and began to work my way out of the row. I was halfway up the aisle, still waiting for the crowd to thin out and give me a little more room, when someone spoke to me. He was about my own