Moon Hoax

23 STAND DOWN

The crane’s engines roared below as Peter held onto the railing of the makeshift platform that rocked side to side as he was hoisted next to the huge Newton 9 Rocket. He looked above through the dangling cables and spotted their ultimate destination—the hatch of the Galileo capsule. He looked across the platform and smiled. Omar appeared to be having problems communicating with the crane operator below using hand signals, while the technician next to him struggled to keep the platform from banging into the rocket. This definitely wasn’t how Dad was placed into his capsule.

Peter was excited for the plugs-out test they were getting ready to perform, a complete dress rehearsal where the rocket would operate on its own power. He took a moment to glance out over the Atlantic Ocean. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the ocean was a magnificent crystal blue, the sun reflecting off the small swells. He took a deep breath, taking in the ocean air and the moment. The sights, sounds, and smells he was experiencing would soon be his last impressions of Earth. He turned back to see the rocket a few feet away, the large letters of the word SpaceQuest slowly passing by as they gained elevation. Even though this was just a dress rehearsal, Peter’s heart was still racing. He imagined in two days for the real thing his excitement and nerves would be even greater. He looked over at Viktor, who appeared extremely calm and relaxed, casually gazing out over the ocean. Peter was happy to have the veteran on board.

The crane’s engines began to slow. Peter turned to see they were approaching the hatch. Soon Omar gave the signal for the crane operator to stop. The roaring of the engines died down as the platform halted, putting them in a slight sway. Peter held on, anxiously moving his knees back and forth while watching the technicians secure the platform and work on opening the hatch. Viktor winked and gave him a reassuring grin.

Eventually Omar had the hatch unlocked and with the help of the technician slowly pried open the door. The cabin was lit up, thanks to the technicians having already powered up the spacecraft a few hours earlier. Omar turned toward the astronauts. “Viktor let’s get you in first.”

Viktor suddenly took a step back. “It’s tradition. Commander enters first.” He motioned to Peter as he moved to the side.

Peter smiled. They had never used the word commander during any of their training. He was honored Viktor acknowledged him as such. “Thanks, Viktor, but I think it should be age before beauty. Besides you’ll have to crawl over me to get to your seat.”

Viktor insisted, “I stay with tradition. It never do me wrong. You first.”

Peter saw Viktor was serious. “Okay, thanks.” He handed his helmet to Omar before being helped in.

ANYA WAS AN EMOTIONAL WRECK as she paced by her seat at the gate in the Moscow airport. She had rushed straight home from Dmitri’s office after learning her father and Peter were going to die, and had thrown together her suitcase in record time before heading to the airport. She arrived before the last flight to Florida was about to leave. It had two stops, getting her into Orlando at noon the next day. That was still eight hours earlier than if she left on the next available flight the following morning, insuring she would get a chance to see both men before they were put in their quarantine quarters. Unfortunately this flight was booked, and she was placed on a standby list. She needed to get on this flight!

She had been patiently waiting in the gate area for the last forty-five minutes, hoping for her name to be called. Over the last ten minutes she had heard the first standby customers called out for available seats, and hoped she would be next. The attendant went to the microphone and stated they would begin pre-boarding the plane. Anya took a seat and started fidgeting with her fingers, wondering if her name was going to be called. Getting impatient, she hopped up and walked straight to the counter. “Excuse me. I was checking to see when my name will be called?”

The attendant, obviously busy, asked, “Your name is?”

“Anya Alexandrov.”

The attendant looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her, searching. “Sorry, you are the third one on the list, and at this point it’s not looking good.”

Anya didn’t know what to do. Tears started to well up in her eyes as she said, “Please. I have to get on that plane. I just learned my father is terminally ill and has less than forty-eight hours to live. I was hoping to get to see him one last time and tell him how much I love him.”

The attendant studied Anya for a moment, as if trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. Finally, after a long pause, the attendant winked and crossed out Anya’s name and moved her to the top of the list. “Don’t tell anyone about this, but hopefully this will help. You will be the next one called.”

Anya said “thank you” through her tears. She stepped back and continued to wait, standing close by the counter, with her bag at her side.

Over the next fifteen minutes boarding continued, and no standby names were read. Finally, all the passengers in the terminal were on the plane and the only ones left were the handful of standby customers. Anya stood alone in front of the group. The attendant informed everyone she was going to go get the final count and excused herself from the counter. Anya started to cry, feeling she was out of luck. She put her head down, closed her eyes, and said a silent prayer. Dear God, please do what you can. I have to see Dad and Peter one last time before you take them from me.

When Anya opened her eyes and lifted her head, standing in front of her was the attendant with a big smile on her face. “Good news. We have one seat left. Bad news, it’s probably the worse seat on the plane—a middle seat way in the back.”

Anya lurched forward, hugging the attendant with a big sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you! God bless you!” The attendant handed her the ticket. Anya grabbed it with a smile. She quickly picked up her bag and raced over to the gate, saying a quick thank you to God for answering her prayer.

PETER AND VIKTOR had been in the Galileo for over four hours going through their checklists and pre-launch procedures for the plugs-out test. A glitch had been discovered in the computer system, and Launch Control had put the simulated countdown on hold while the computer wizards worked on solving the problem. Bud told the guys to sit tight. Both men were strapped in their seats, going nowhere. With the rocket pointed vertically, they were lying on their backs facing skyward. Both men had their helmets on, but had lifted their visors so they could talk.

“Man, I have to pee,” said Peter.

“Go pee,” said Viktor.

“I hate peeing in these damn diapers. Especially since we have no idea how long we’ll be up here. If we’re here long enough, I’ll get diaper rash.”

Viktor laughed and said, “Well, I guess I get diaper rash.”

With his legs forward and gravity pulling him back, there was a lot of pressure on his bladder and it was only a matter of time before he would have to relieve himself. “Launch Control, this is Galileo. Any idea on when you’ll solve the problem?”

“Galileo, we are still working on it. Just relax and enjoy the view.”

“View? What view?” Peter mumbled. The only thing out his window was blue sky, nothing else. Peter looked over to Viktor, who had a big grin on his face.

“Looks like diaper rash on way.”

Peter looked away, wondering if he should give in to the agony. He decided to do it. He relaxed his muscles and let out a sigh of relief, Viktor grinning the whole time.

Both men sat in silence, in their wet diapers. Finally Viktor spoke. “I can’t believe we be at moon in week.”

“I know—it’s pretty amazing to think about. In fact, I was just wondering what Dad was thinking when he was sitting on his rocket waiting to be launched.”

“I’m sure he be excited… and I sure he had wet diaper too.” Viktor chuckled.

Peter smiled at Viktor’s little joke even though he knew his Dad actually used a urine collection bag. “You know it’s kind of ironic that we sit here preparing for a mission where we can prove the thirteenth man already walked on the moon. Dad was always surprised he was one of the last men to venture out on the lunar surface. He was so sure we would have an outpost of some sort on the moon by now. As the years went by and the moon sat undisturbed, he wondered if any man would step on the moon before the last moonwalker died. He was so sure that after we first landed, for the rest of time there would always be a human on Earth who had walked on the moon.”

“Yes, I surprised too the U.S. did not keep going to moon. That’s one reason we stopped. We were sure U.S. would keep going and always overshadow us. If we knew America was going to stop, I’m sure we would have went to moon. I bet Russia would have base on moon today.”

Peter thought about that concept, Russia having a moon base. He didn’t care who was exploring the universe, as long as the country went in peace and for all mankind, which is how his dad went. Russia having a base on the moon today would have been a good thing for the whole world.

Viktor pulled out a picture of Maria from his pocket which made Peter think of Anya. “Maria was a special lady,” he said.

Viktor just looked at Peter and smiled.

“Maybe you should get some Velcro put on the back so you can have it hanging in here for the flight.”

“Thanks. Good idea. I do.” Still looking at the picture, Viktor said, “Anya is a lot like her mother. Whenever I see Anya, it like I see Maria thirty years ago. I know it hard what you did, to end with Anya.”

“Probably the hardest thing I ever had to do. Too bad I met her so late in life. I think we would have been a happy couple. You and Maria did a good job raising such a beautiful and wonderful daughter.”

“Your parents did good too,” Viktor said.

Peter smiled.

Victor reached a gloved hand to touch Peter’s sleeve. “I give my blessing. I be proud you be with Anya.”

Peter swelled with pride as he patted Anya’s father on his leg. He sat back and thought of how life could have been different if they had met earlier in life.

Suddenly the silence in his helmet was broken by an announcement over the radio. “Sorry, gentleman, but it’s going to take a while to fix this problem. Instead of you two sitting up there for hours waiting, lets plan on finishing the test tomorrow,” Bud said.

“Are we still scheduled to launch on Thursday?” Peter asked.

“Yes, as long as the test goes okay tomorrow we should be able to stay on schedule,” answered Bud. “We’ll have the techs up there in a few minutes to get you two out.”

“Roger,” answered Peter, squirming in his wet diaper.

SIE ADJUSTED THE ANGLE of his pen next to the printout of his calculations, aligned with the edge of the conference table at Jiuquan Launch Center. Sitting at the head of the table was Kuang. Sie sat to Kuang’s right and on Kuang’s left sat Tang and Nei, the experienced taikonauts selected for the mission of beating the Americans to the moon.

Kuang started the meeting by asking Sie, “Why are we not fueling Shenzhou 10? I just learned from our intelligence that America has a rocket fueled up and ready to launch at Kennedy. Since the UN sanctions state America cannot send any rockets into space, why don’t we fuel our rocket? Why do you suspect they are doing this?”

Sie laced his fingers together under the table, his shoulders straight. “Sir, we feel that rocket is a decoy of some sort. It is not a NASA rocket capable of reaching the moon, but instead a private commercial rocket. America must have learned from their spy satellites that we have a moon rocket sitting on the launch pad, and probably assume it is there to intercept any rocket they send to the moon. We suspect they are trying to bait us to begin fueling our rocket with the idea we will later defuel it once we figure they are not launching. They probably know it takes three to four days to refuel a Long March rocket after its been defueled, versus less than two days if it wasn’t. We believe once they see us defuel, they will immediately bring out a rocket capable of flying to the moon and quickly fuel and launch. Their lead would be too great to overcome, we would be unable to catch them. We are not going to fall for their little trick. I have ordered our team to stand down.”

Kuang studied Sie for a moment. “Our intelligence says America is years away from having a moon rocket.”

“We know they have been trying to develop a rocket that competes with the Long March. I feel they are farther along than the world suspects.”

“Are you sure the rocket on the launch pad can’t reach the moon?”

“Yes sir. It’s a Newton 9 rocket built by a company called SpaceQuest, which is a commercial company not affiliated with the U.S. government. I personally have seen a mock-up of this rocket at an air show and talked to company officials. Its purpose is to fly equipment and men into low orbit. They have yet to fly a successful mission. Our intelligence assures me there is no way that rocket has enough power to get to the moon.”

“Are you sure they won’t launch it, even though it’s fueled?”

“I see no reason to launch that rocket and go against the UN sanctions. We can only conclude they are trying to trick us into fueling our rocket. We are not going to buy into their deception.”

“I hope you’re right. I will contact Beijing and inform them the U.S. has a fueled rocket ready to launch. I’m sure Beijing will complain to the UN.” Kuang raised his bushy eyebrows. “Are Tang and Nei ready to fly at a moment’s notice?”

Tang looked eager to answer, but speaking was disrespectful unless called upon, so he sat quietly as Sie answered, “Sir, both men have been training and are ready to go.”

“Have they learned how to change the factory installed codes in the required amount of time?”

“Yes, sir. I have them capable of doing it in thirty minutes—fifteen minutes less than the forty-five minutes available to them.”

“Do you think the Americans will be able to do it in that time frame?”

“Sir, the Americans need to do it in less than twenty minutes.”

“Why?” Kuang asked, sitting back in his chair.

“Sir, because we have the passwords, we can easily access the laser and disarm it, probably in less than five minutes. Then have the remaining orbit on the back side to reprogram it with new access codes, locking the Americans out. The Americans have to access the laser’s programming system through the backdoor using a complicated series of inputs before they can put in a new password and disarm the laser. This will certainly take longer than twenty minutes. Once the laser detects their spacecraft, it is designed to power up, lock on, and fire within twenty minutes. They will surely be destroyed.”

“Why send a rocket if they cannot change the codes in time?”

Sie was silent for awhile; due to his earlier miscalculation he had to tread carefully around Kuang. “Sir, it is unlikely the Americans could do it, but not impossible. We don’t want to leave it to chance. We have too much to lose.”

Kuang shook his head at Sie’s answer. Turning to the taikonauts he said, “If you two are required to carry out this mission, you must know it is of national importance that you are successful. Success is vital to the future of China.”

Commander Tang gave a respectful bow. “Sir, we understand the importance of this mission and promise to serve you and our country with honor. We will not let you down.”

Out of all the taikonauts, Tang was the most competent and dedicated to his country. Tang would do the job if given the opportunity.