In a move that has thrilled schoolboys, space enthusiasts and anyone who’s ever looked at the Moon and thought, “That’d make a lovely gift shop,” NASA has named the next four Artemis astronauts. The intrepid quartet, who will orbit the Moon sometime in the next decade if they can find a parking space, are Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch and Jeremy Hansen. But the real news, the sort that makes a gin-sodden hack choke on his slice of lemon, is that the British space sector is now officially eyeing a Moon base partnership. Yes, you heard that right. The nation that brought you the Mars Rover’s bumbling sidekick, Beagle 2, is now aiming to build a Lunar Premier Inn.
Let me paint you a picture. Imagine a Moon base built by the same people who can’t get a train to arrive on time. It’ll be a grey, sterile outpost with a faulty heating system, a queue for the loo, and a vending machine that only dispenses Quavers and lukewarm tea. The British contribution will likely be a flag, a jam roly-poly, and a hastily scribbled post-it note saying, “Back in 5 minutes.” The astronauts will have to bring their own corkscrews, because British engineers will have forgotten to install one on the space station. And don’t even get me started on the WiFi. It’ll be slower than a bus in a bus lane.
But let us not be too churlish. The Artemis programme, named after the Greek goddess of the hunt and, presumably, the patron saint of missing deadlines, has finally announced its crew. The lucky foursome will be the first humans to fly close to the Moon since 1972, when men were men and space was filled with cigarette smoke and cheap coffee. They will ride the Orion spacecraft on a ten-day mission that is, at the time of writing, expected to launch in November 2024. Or 2025. Or whenever Elon Musk finishes building his rocket out of old car parts.
The British space sector, meanwhile, is positively dribbling with excitement. The UK Space Agency has signed up to the Artemis Accords, a set of principles that basically say, “No fighting over the best crater.” They are now in talks to provide a lander, or a module, or possibly a caddy to carry golf clubs for when astronauts get bored. It all sounds very promising, until you remember that the UK’s last foray into space involved a satellite that fell into the Atlantic because someone forgot to check the fuel gauge. The Moon base will be built by the lowest bidder, which in Britain means it will be constructed from cardboard, string and a bit of elbow grease, with a promise of a proper budget in the next fiscal year.
But never mind all that. The important thing is that this is a golden opportunity for the British space sector to prove itself. They can show the world that they are capable of more than just making the catchy theme tune for Doctor Who. They can design a Moon base that is simultaneously cramped, damp, and inexplicably serves bangers and mash. They can introduce the concept of queuing to the lunar surface. They can ensure that every Moon walk is accompanied by a polite apology for the weather.
So raise a glass of warm gin, my fellow Earthlings. The Moon is about to get a new neighbour, and it’s going to be British. It will be polite, it will be tea-sodden, and it will probably break down within a week. But at least they’ll put out a nice selection of biscuits for the aliens.
