Free Sex on the Moon by Ben Mezrich Page A

laboratory.
    When the first few Apollo missions had come back from the moon, NASA had set up a really tight quarantine; nobody had any idea what the lunar samples they had brought back might contain. There was a very real fear of alien pathogens spreading some strange, unearthly disease throughout the space center—and perhaps from there, the entire world. So a high-tech quarantine had been created not just for the astronauts themselves, who spent weeks in sealed chambers going through multiple levels of purification, blood tests, and even psychological evaluation, but also for the lunar samples—the moon rocks, as they quickly became known to the public.
    The protocol for the transport and storage of moon rocks was unbelievably strict, involving vacuum-sealed rock boxes, nitrogen chambers, bodysuits with self-contained oxygen.
    Gibson was one of the first scientists charged with preparing and studying the moon rocks brought back by the Apollo program, missions twelve through seventeen. He had conducted the original moon rock studies, searching for signs of life, unknown materials, pathogens—everything that made the lunar samples unique. Eventually, the quarantine on astronauts and materials was lessened, and by Apollo 15 dropped. The rocks, though deemed incredibly valuable, were no longer considered a danger. But they were still irreplaceable; after the Apollo program ended, it was immediately made illegal for American citizens to even own a real lunar sample.
    All together, the Apollo astronauts had collected 842 pounds of the stuff, divided into 2,200 individual samples, which were then subdivided into 110,000 studiable parts—and it had been determined that the moon rocks needed a building of their own. A self-contained facility, Building 31N, had been constructed right next door; Thad had yet to visit the Lunar Lab, but he had heard plenty of stories about the place. It was considered the most secure building NASA had ever built. Atmosphere-controlled, built without any connection to the outside world—no wires, pipes, ducts—it was supposedly strong enough to survive a thousand years underwater without damage to the inner contents. Hell, it would probably outlast the entire city of Houston.
    Thad hoped he’d get the chance to visit the Lunar Lab. Since he was involved in the study of space materials, he knew that it was not far-fetched. But until he got to handle the samples himself, the closest he would get to moon rocks would be hanging out with people like Dr. Gibson.
    “Forget lunch,” Thad said, hastily cleaning up his workstation. “I’d rather starve and get a good seat up front than be bloated in the back row.”
    Helms smiled, though, as a second year, he’d heard Gibson’s lectures before. But nobody in Building 31 missed an opportunity to hear about the Apollo missions from a man who had been so involved himself. It was as close to walking on the moon as a guy who worked with test tubes was ever going to get.
    …
    Gibson began his speech on the moon, but the body of his talk took them millions of miles beyond; sitting in the very front row of the Greek-style amphitheater, leaning all the way back so that he had a better view of the stocky, square shouldered, sixty-something-year-old man behind the lectern, Thad realized he should not have been surprised. Like everything else at NASA, Gibson was caught up in the incredible reorientation of the American space program. But it was still amazing to see this gray-haired, slightly balding, bespectacled scientist—a genius who had taken part in the greatest adventure in modern human history—so enthusiastically involved in something new, something that would take at least a quarter of a century to become real.
    At the beginning of the speech, Gibson talked about the first samples he’d ever seen when he started at NASA—the Apollo 11 samples, which were collected by Neil Armstrong, the first man on the moon. Gibson went on to describe how different