28 WALK BACK

Even though Tom was trudging alongside Dusty over the deserted wasteland, he had never felt so alone in all his life. Within the cocoon of his spacesuit he felt the isolation of the cosmic emptiness, and it was starting to have an impact on his psyche. The two walked in dead silence since earlier small talk had led to them losing focus on their steps. Breaking rhythm often caused the tether line to tug, sometimes sending one of the exhausted astronauts to the ground.

Their cadence had a calming effect on Tom, putting him in a near-hypnotic state. His attention rarely wavered from the moon’s surface as he marched forward, keeping a close lookout for obstacles. As he examined his path, he had to look through Anne’s lipstick mark. Seeing the remembrance from home had him thinking about his family and that moment when his wife had lovingly planted the surprise kiss there. He could easily visualize her face on the other side of his bubble helmet; her beautiful brown eyes looking into his. Not only did that image comfort him, it motivated him to do everything in his power to get back safely to her.

The black sky loomed over the many untouched gray hills that seemed to go on forever. It had been well over an hour since the astronauts had separated from the rover’s tracks. Parting from their security blanket and sure bet back to Explorer was a big gamble, and one Tom started to doubt. During survival training, he had learned that humans, without something to guide them, tended to walk in a circle. In order to keep that from happening to the two hapless astronauts, Tom relied on the sun. The golden sphere was their savior and guiding light. But there was no guarantee that they were aiming exactly right. They could easily be off their mark by a quarter mile or more and not know it. Since Explorer sat in a valley, being that far off course meant they could have a hill blocking their view of the ship and unknowingly walk right past it.

From the estimated distance traveled, Tom was positive they should be coming up on their spacecraft. The steep hill they were climbing hopefully would reward them with the glorious sight of their oasis. Tom blurted out a course correction insuring they stayed in sync with their steps. “Turn 30 degrees left, now.”

The two astronauts moved like Siamese twins as they curved on up the embankment.

The hum swirling around in Tom’s helmet from the cooling pumps operating in his backpack had been a reassuring sound, which wasn’t happening in his partner’s helmet. That hum was starting to get masked by the sounds of Dusty’s heavy breathing over the radio, which had been accelerating over the last fifteen minutes, a sign his friend was struggling. With the fierce heat beating down on the men, Tom was convinced Dusty was overheating, since the buddy system of sharing cooling water wasn’t as efficient for the “other” guy.

In an exasperated voice over the radio, Dusty reluctantly asked, “Tom, can we take a quick break?”

Tom hated to stop, especially since there was no assurance they would see the LM over the hill. What if it wasn’t there? What direction would they take then? Dusty was already using Tom’s emergency air supply. Would Dusty have enough air? Seeing his partner’s condition, Tom felt he had no choice but to stop for a quick breather. He lifted his hand to signal halt. “Okay.”

Both men stopped walking simultaneously. Unfortunately, because of his rigid spacesuit, Dusty had to keep standing instead of being able to sit down on the hill to rest. He leaned back slightly, letting his arms extend out in their desired position. His breathing stayed heavy.

Tom lowered his chin and with his teeth grabbed the food stick in a bag Velcroed just inside his helmet ring. He pulled up the bar and chopped off a piece. He chewed the candy-tasting stuff before taking a few big gulps of water from the tube by his mouth. Pleased to have the high-energy protein in his system, he looked up the ridge, estimating that they had another fifty meters before they reached the peak. He calculated his partner had around forty-five minutes of air left, so they should be okay as long as they spotted their ship from the hilltop.

Tom lifted his sun visor and gazed out over the moon’s horizon at the thousands of faint stars floating in the deep ocean sky. With Earth directly overhead and his helmet rigid, he was unable to lean back far enough to see his planet, but he felt its presence. He imagined each one of those stars represented a person from home holding a flashlight, there to help guide the two astronauts back safely to the LM.

Dusty spoke out in a surprisingly strong voice, “Okay, I’m ready.”

As Dusty straightened up, Tom saw his own shimmering image reflect off his partner’s gold-plated sun visor. Tom’s dirty white spacesuit with its bright red strips and colorful American flag stood out strongly against the moon’s dull colors. Seeing his own likeness so clearly was as if he was looking into his soul. Damn it, I’m not going to die out here! He patted Dusty’s helmet. “Buddy, you’re doing great. We’re going to make it. Let’s go.”

Both men turned and, in step, started trudging back up the hill, expertly avoiding tangling up their connecting hoses.

Soon the astronauts were about to approach their moment of truth, the summit. Tom attempted to cross a pair of gloved fingers. Come on, baby. Be in sight. As the vast landmass on the other side came into view, his heart instantly sank at not seeing any sign of Explorer. The ship’s reflective insulation would be like a bright beacon, easily standing out. He looked around, scanning for their home. “Do you see it?”

In a grim voice, Dusty responded, “No, I don’t. Damn!”

Letting out a tired breath, Tom had to decide their next move. He assumed Explorer was probably being blocked by one of the hills surrounding them. The question was, which one? Dusty was probably down to thirty-five minutes of air, only enough to go in one direction. Something in Tom’s gut was leading him to go a certain way. He lifted his arm and pointed. “I think we go to the right, over that hill.”

Dusty lifted his sun visor, allowing Tom to see his partner’s eyes. Dusty shook his head. “I think it’s to the left.”

Tom swung his arm and pointed to where Dusty was looking. “Over that hill? How do you know?”

“I don’t. It’s just a feeling.”

As the commander, it was Tom’s call, and this was going to be a do or die decision. Dusty did not have enough air for Tom to be wrong. He looked down at Anne’s lipstick impression. What do I do, babe? Tom looked in the direction Dusty wanted to go. Something didn’t feel right about that vector. But Tom wasn’t positive his route was right either. In fact, he figured it was probably a fifty-fifty shot either way, and if Dusty’s gut was right, he would redeem himself after losing the rover.

Tom asked, “Are you sure?”

Dusty nodded with a grin. “Sure enough to bet my life.”

Looking back in the direction Dusty wanted to go, Tom closed his eyes. He hoped for divine intervention. The unexpected image of Dino running around with Anne’s wig and Dusty catching the wild mutt flashed in Tom’s mind. He smiled at the amusing memory. I guess that’s my sign. “Okay, let’s go left.”

“I think you’re making the right call, Commander.”


NERVOUSLY, DAVID TAPPED his pen on his desk as he continued to send out periodic calls over the radio, trying to reach the Apollo 16 moonwalkers. “Tom, this is Houston. Do you copy?”

Only static came from the other end. A hand dropped on the CAPCOM’s shoulder, causing him to jerk slightly. Standing over him was his boss, who looked concerned.

Dick pulled out a nearby chair and sat down. “Have you heard anything?”

David shook his head. “Nope, not a peep, and I’m worried.”

Dick’s eyebrow shot up.

David felt he needed to elaborate on his concerns. “A controller just informed me he calculated exactly how far they will walk by following the tracks back to the LM. It’s almost five and half miles. I did my own calculations on how far they would walk in a straight shot back, and I calculated it’s roughly four miles. If I’m right and Dusty’s backpack has failed, he won’t have enough air if they follow the rover’s tracks. I’m convinced Tom knows this. I bet you he took them off the tracks in a more direct route back to Explorer.

Dick’s eyes widened. “Damn.” He looked out toward the front of the room. After a long, motionless beat, he turned back with a solemn look. “Well let’s face it. If we don’t hear back from them within two hours from their last contact, and you’re right, Dusty will be dead.”

Shocked by his boss’s bluntness, David caught Joan out of the corner of his eye leaning against the VIP room’s glass barrier behind him. He couldn’t help but look back. Before acknowledging her, he felt a strong grip on his arm.

“I want you to look straight ahead.”

David turned to see his boss looking forward, not at him. Surprised, he asked, “Why?”

Without turning his head, Dick commanded, “Look forward.”

David followed the order and looked straight ahead.

Not moving, Dick instructed. “I want you to turn your head to me, smiling. Then I want you to point to the monitors and tell me Tom and Dusty should be okay, and do it so the VIP room can see you talking.”

Finally understanding what his boss was up to, David obliged and did as requested. Dick then turned with a wide smile and patted David on the back. He exaggerated his pronunciation of his words. “That’s great news.” He turned back toward the front of the room. With his face back out of view from the visitors, Dick instantly dropped his fake smile and said in a soft whisper. “The last thing I need is a panic in the VIP room.”


ANNE HAD BEEN studying the activity in the control room like a hawk and thought she saw something encouraging. “Did David just say everything’s okay?”

Standing directly in front of Anne, Joan had her hands up against the glass divider as she peered down into the room. Without moving, Joan gave a simple response. “Yeah.”

Anne tilted her head slightly. “You don’t sound too convincing.”

Not budging, Joan answered softly, “Yeah.”


“YOU OKAY?” The nasty spill Tom’s partner just took could have been serious.

Dusty slowly rolled over in the lunar dust and struggled to get up onto his hands and knees. He spoke in a tired voice, “I’m fine. Sorry about that.”

Droplets of sweat formed on Tom’s face. He rubbed his nose on the inside of his helmet to get rid of an annoying droplet. “Buddy, it wasn’t your fault.” Gloom hung over the two men. Neither one had spoken of the possibility of dying, keeping any negative thoughts to themselves. But the fact was, the clock was ticking and they still had no confirmation they were headed in the right direction. Without hearing from mission control, the pressure mounted with every step they took. Tom had been sending out calls periodically to Houston without getting any response. He bent over and helped his friend up.

Dusty wobbled slightly from exhaustion before standing. Tom steadied his friend and gave him a couple of light pats to clean off some of the gathered filth. Clouds of dust floated off the astronaut in all directions.

Tom’s emergency oxygen supply that Dusty was sharing, was running low. Since the spacesuits were not designed to share the main air supply, his partner would not have enough air to survive if Explorer wasn’t over the hill. Tom had over an hour and half of air left in his main system and would be able to continue the search. Leaving his dead friend behind would be devastating, a grim thought Tom pushed out of his mind. “We should be hearing from mission control any minute now.”

Dusty flipped up his sun visor, a concerned look on his face. “That’s if I was right.”

Staying encouraging, Tom answered, “I wouldn’t have gone this way if I didn’t believe in your gut.”

With a weary smile, Dusty flipped down his visor. The two continued their climb and soon approached the hill’s gentle shoulder. Though the other side was still hidden beyond view, Tom was getting worried. With the stronger antenna on the LM, he was sure they were in position to start hearing something from Houston, if in fact, Explorer was there. Tom anxiously sent out another call. “Houston, do you copy?”

Even with the cool air rushing over Tom’s face, droplets of sweat kept forming due to the tension in his body. “Houston, this is Apollo 16. Do you copy?”

A soft crackle came over the radio. “T…”

The hair on Tom’s neck stood on end. Did I just hear something? Tom quickly raised a hand, calling for a stop. Both men halted in their tracks. Tom held off asking Dusty if he’d heard anything in order to keep the radio clear. He closed his eyes and tuned out the sounds of his backpack so he could focus on any incoming radio signal.

“…ston …ead?”

There was no disputing the fact he was hearing something. Tom practically jumped out of his suit. “Dusty, did you hear that?”

“I sure did, boss!”

Excitedly, Tom radioed in, “Houston, we copy.”

Even though the communication link stayed garbled and unclear, the two men were getting the signal they were praying for, letting them know they were on the right track. With a second wind kicking in, both men bounded over the hilltop with a sudden burst of energy. Tom’s eyes widened as the most beautiful sight he had ever seen came into view. As if by magic, their safe haven and ride home, Explorer, was there, glowing as it patiently waited in the center of the desolate valley.

David in mission control finally came in clear. “Tom, Houston. What is your status?”

Tom raised his hand and the two astronauts stopped. “Houston, Dusty and I are fine and we see Explorer.

“Roger, Tom. That is wonderful news. It’s great to hear your voice.”

“Copy that, David. You have no idea how happy we are to hear yours.”

Tom turned to Dusty and patted him on the back. “Looks like you were right, buddy. Good call!”

Dusty flipped open his visor, a relieved grin on his face. “Commander, you made the call.”

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