Moon Hoax

25 TRADITION

The sun was rising as Peter drummed on his steering wheel. He had the music blaring in the truck as he cruised over the Bennett Causeway on his way to the Cape. He was excited and energized for the big day that lay ahead, knowing he would be orbiting the earth later that afternoon. He was on schedule to arrive in time for his appointment with Dr. Johnson. He also was bubbling with a childlike giddiness after the wonderful night with Anya. He had a tough time containing his emotions while he drove and instead was screaming out the song on the radio while keeping the beat on his steering wheel.

A sudden loud siren blast cut through the loud music and brought him back to reality. Looking into the review mirror he saw a police car with lights flashing, signaling him to pull over. Damn, that’s the last thing I need. Peter lifted his foot off the accelerator with no idea how fast he’d been going. Turning down the music, he found a safe spot and pulled over. He was happy to find the registration in the glove compartment and reached for his wallet.

That’s when panic set in.

“Shit I left it on the base!”

Since all he needed around the base was his SpaceQuest badge, he never carried his wallet with him. He checked his other pockets. Now he had neither. He had no ID! He looked back up at the rearview mirror to see the policeman walking toward the truck. Damn it Peter… what are you going to do? He didn’t have time for this. Allen was already going to be pissed that he didn’t return to the base. He would surely cancel the launch if he missed his preflight medical check.

The policeman cautiously approached the truck before knocking on the window.

Peter opened it. “Hello, Officer.”

“What’s your hurry at this time of the morning, son?” asked the policeman, a crusty old gentleman.

“Sorry about that, I have an important meeting at Kennedy,” said Peter, hoping that would suffice.

“I need to see your license and registration,” said the policeman sternly.

Peter slightly tilted his head. “I have a slight problem there. I accidently left without my wallet this morning.”

“Is this your truck?”

“No, sir, it’s the company I work for,” said Peter as he handed the registration to the policeman.

“Do you have any identification?” asked the policeman as he reviewed the registration.

“No, sir.”

“What’s your name and where do you live?” asked the officer while he opened a small notepad to write down the information.

Peter held a Texas license, though he had not lived there for years. He owned a Houston home, but since SID kept him on the road most of the time, he elected to rent it out. “Peter Novak. I’m from Houston, Texas.”

“Do you know your license number?”

Peter had no idea. He knew his CIA ID number that he would have given out in the past, but he couldn’t use it now. “Sorry, I don’t.”

“You’re not making this easy for me, son. How do I know you’re not stealing this truck? We have had a rash of stolen trucks over the last few months.”

Peter pointed to the SpaceQuest emblem on the side door. “Not sure why anyone would want to steal a company truck like this. You can call SpaceQuest and verify who I am and that the truck isn’t stolen.”

The policeman studied Peter for a moment, as if deciding what to do. He then said the words Peter didn’t want to hear. “Please step out of the truck.”

As Peter opened the door he pleaded, “Sir, I really need to get to Kennedy.”

The policeman chuckled. “Why? You have some rocket you have to catch?”

Yes I do, damn it! But he couldn’t say that. “Believe me, it’s a very important meeting.”

“I’m sure it can wait,” said the policeman as he radioed into the station. As Peter waited by the car, he looked over at the base. In the far distance, he could see the Newton 9 waiting patiently, ready to fly. He was in trouble. This could cancel the launch!

The officer put his radio away and grunted, “Place your hands on the vehicle and spread your feet.”

You’ve got to be kidding me! Doesn’t this cop have something better to do than take me in?

The officer started patting him down. “Is there anything in your pockets I should know about?”

“No, sir.” Peter shrugged. The officer grabbed his right arm and swung it around his back as he stood Peter straight up. He grabbed the other arm and swung it around before Peter heard two loud snap sounds in sequence as handcuffs locked his wrists together. The officer practically dragged him toward the police car, Peter shaking his head the whole way while trying to figure out a way out of this mess. Suddenly a car driving on the causeway started to slow down as it approached. Peter looked at the driver. Bud Duron! Bud had a surprised look on his face when he realized it was Peter and he immediately pulled over. The policeman opened the back door, and, before Peter could get in he saw Bud running toward them waving a hand yelling, “Hey Jerry, what’s going on?”

A huge sigh of relief came over Peter; Bud knew the cop.

The policeman said, “Hey, Bud. Do you know this guy?”

“Yeah, it’s Peter Novak. He works for us at SpaceQuest.”

The policeman put Peter in the car and closed the door. Peter sat watching the two chat in front of the car, Bud looking pretty animated. Soon the policeman came back to the side of the car and opened the door. “It’s your lucky day, son. You’re free to go.”

“Thank you, Officer,” said Peter as he was helped out of the police car and the handcuffs were taken off.

As he and Bud walked back to their cars Bud asked, “Where the hell were you coming from?”

Rubbing his wrists Peter said, “I had to take care of some personal business.”

“Well it’s none of my business what you were doing, but does Allen know you were off the base?”

“I hope not. But I’m now late for my medical check.”

Bud looked over at the rocket in the distance. Turning back, he said, “Well good thing I was driving by.”

Peter smiled. “Yes, good thing.” Arriving at the truck he placed his hand on the door handle and said as Bud walked by, “I need one more favor. I forgot my SpaceQuest ID; I need your help getting back on base.”

Bud stopped and gave Peter a perplexed look. “I guess it was pretty important business to make you forget your ID and risk cancelling the launch. Let’s hope Allen doesn’t find out about this. I have a meeting with Allen, so follow me and I’ll get you on.”

PETER RAN DOWN THE HALLWAY to medical, knowing in his gut he was late. He looked at his watch. Shit—7:20a.m.! He opened the door and sitting on the examination table was Viktor, shirt off, being checked out by Dr. Johnson. On the other side of Viktor was Allen, who looked steamed.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Peter looked at Viktor, who shrugged as if saying he had done all he could. Peter said to Allen, “I know… I know… I’m sorry. I had to see Anya one last time. Everything’s fine. I’m here and ready to go!”

“We were looking all over for you. Your partner hasn’t been any help. I was coming close to cancelling this whole goddamn thing!” Allen glared at him.

Peter patted him on the back, hoping to calm him down. “I should have told you. Sorry, but everything’s okay. I’m ready to go and do this. We have come too far to cancel now.”

Allen looked at Peter for awhile, his face still red with anger. “You know I wanted you two quarantined last night. I can’t afford either one of you getting sick.” Allen grabbed Peter’s shirt by the collar and pulled him close. He looked him dead in the eye. “Don’t cross me again, Peter. I need to know I can count on you 100 percent. I have too much riding on this. I need to know you’ll do as you’re told. I don’t want some renegade flying my equipment.”

This was the first time Peter had seen Allen mad, and he didn’t want to see it again. “Allen, really I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. It was the wrong thing to do.”

Allen let go of his collar and backed up a bit. “Okay.” He turned to the Doctor and barked out, “Check them both out and let me know if there are any issues.” With that he stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

“Wow, he was pissed,” said Peter with a slight grin.

Viktor said, “Yeah, he say he cancel launch. He here before me, mad I was two minutes late. I think he nervous. I cover best I could.”

“Sorry, Viktor. Well, looks like we’re back on track.”

Viktor smiled. “Everything go okay with Anya?”

Peter couldn’t contain his grin. “It was wonderful. Exactly what we both needed.”

Viktor patted Peter on the back. “Good. Then all okay with me.”

PETER AND VIKTOR SAT in their lounge chairs in the suit-up room, cleared by Dr. Johnson. They had eaten breakfast and finished their preflight meetings. The weather was cooperating and everything was on schedule. The time had come to put on their flight suits before being shuttled over to the rocket. Peter looked over at Viktor, who appeared to be taking a nap, totally relaxed. Technicians were bustling all around getting their suits ready. Peter used the moment to close his eyes and review his checklist for the launch.

Peter felt a slight nudge. Opening his eyes, he saw Omar standing above him.

“Peter, do you need to use the restroom before we start suiting you up?”

Peter peered back over at Viktor, who was now snoring. Looking back at Omar he said, “I just went. Thanks.”

While Omar walked over to Viktor to ask the same, Peter glanced at his flight suit and helmet lying on the table in front of him. He reached for his Dad’s locket around his neck and rubbed it. I’m ready for this, Dad. Focusing on the plain white walls surrounding him, he realized he had never done anything to spice up the area. He couldn’t have his last room on Earth look so bland and depressing. Looking over and seeing Omar struggling to wake Viktor, Peter decided he had some time to hustle down to the conference room and grab the picture of his dad’s rocket, perfect to set on the counter next to him. He quickly got up. “Omar, I’ll be right back.” Before Omar could ask where he was going, Peter was out the door.

The conference room was empty as Peter walked in. He knew exactly where his dad’s picture was, but instead of going right to it, he took a moment to examine each picture leading up to it. Below each picture was a brass engraving plate stating the mission and when it was launched. Peter reviewed each rocket, thinking of those who flew, many of whom he knew. All of them were pioneers, and in his mind, heroes. He was finally going to join the club. In fact, if all went to plan, he would join the exclusive club of those who flew to the moon.

Soon he reached his dad’s picture. He stared at the picture for a moment, putting his hand to the glass over the Saturn V rocket as if touching it. He couldn’t believe his dad flew that rocket to the moon almost forty years ago. He remembered that day at Cape Kennedy. Both he and his mom sat in the VIP seating area when his dad blasted off. As a seven-year-old boy, he remembered being excited about the day and all the special attention he was getting. But the moment most etched in his mind was being rocked by the sudden harsh, Chinese-firecracker staccato sound that followed the first few seconds of pure silence as he watched his dad’s rocket lift. A sound so fierce and surprising, it scared him to the point he grabbed his mom’s hand with both of his. That boom was a sound he would never forget. Dad… did you ever know how much that scared me? Thank God Mom was there.

As he removed the picture, out of the corner of his eye he saw Viktor walk past the conference doorway. Where’s he going? The restrooms are the other way. The only thing in that direction was the doorway out to the van that would take them to the rocket. Curious, Peter gently set the picture down and followed where Viktor went. When he walked outside, he saw Viktor’s body through the van’s window standing on the other side facing the back right tire. That was odd. What in the world is that old man up to? A few workers mingled around the area, but none seem to be paying any attention to Viktor. Peter walked around the van, and to his shock, saw Viktor peeing on the back tire.

First double-checking to make sure no one noticed what the old man was doing, Peter asked, “Viktor, what the hell are you doing?”

Viktor casually looked up and said as he continued peeing, “It tradition. All cosmonauts urinate on right back tire of bus that take us to rocket. We do it when get to rocket, but flight suits not have access, so I do it now.”

Peter laughed out loud. “Ahhh, that’s why you were quizzing Omar about being able to pee after being dressed. How in the world did that become a tradition?”

“Yuri Gagarin do on first space flight. Since he have good mission, we make it tradition. I don’t break tradition.”

“Well move over, I don’t want to break tradition either.” He too started urinating on the tire, ignoring the workers who now noticed what they were doing.

As the two finished, Viktor turned. “Peter, I like take vodka on flight.”

“Is that tradition too?”

“Yes, to drink at landing after mission, but we not return. I like drink to celebrate our success at moon.”

Allen would not go for this, and having already seen him pissed, Peter said, “Allen might have issues with that.”

“Is he going to die on mission? No! You and I are! I ask you because you commander.”

Peter thought for a minute. “You’re right. Besides, I’m sure I would love to have a few shots once we finish our assignment floating around the moon. I have a plastic bottle that would work perfect. I’ll get it, and you can pour the vodka into it. Allen doesn’t need to know.”

Viktor smiled saying, “Spaseeba,” which Peter knew meant thank you.

PRESIDENT EDWARDS WAS WORRIED as he sat looking out the window in the oval office. America’s only opportunity to alter the world’s recent belief that the United States never landed on the moon rested on two brave men launching on a secret mission later that day, a mission to prove China wrong and stop the balance of power from being shifted. It was an aggressive move he approved of and one he hoped wouldn’t backfire. He’d called in Doug Rose and Jack Dawson to review the mission one last time before leaving for the sanity of Camp David. “What time is the launch scheduled for?”

“3:08 p.m., sir,” said Doug.

“How’s the weather look?”

“The forecast is for clouds but no thunderstorms, nothing to prevent the launch. My last conversation with Allen was everything was a go.”

“And your man is still confident he can pull this off?” asked the president as he rubbed his hands together.

“He still has it at over 90 percent, and considering all the variables involved, I consider that very high,” said Doug looking a little fidgety, as if he was concerned the mission might be cancelled.

“Good, because the Chinese yuan is starting to kick our ass and public opinion is swaying heavily toward China on everything, especially economic issues, because of their lies. America is being treated like some second class country. I want to nip this in the bud now!”

“Yes, sir,” Doug said.

“Not surprising,” the president went on, “China is not buying our official response that SpaceQuest will not fire off that rocket. They have been all over the UN, even trying to intimidate this office. I sent a formal letter to China a couple of days ago informing them that we have been assured the private company that owns the rocket will not launch.” The president took a moment before saying, “We have one shot at this and we better get it right.”

Jack Dawson chimed in. “We will, sir. If Peter says he is confident the mission will succeed, I’m sure it will.”

“Does China still have their rocket sitting on the launch pad?” asked the president.

Jack answered, “Yes, sir, but fortunately they haven’t fueled it yet. So until they do, we should have some time on our side.”

Doug added, “Our boys have worked hard training to modify the Soyuz in less than the forty-eight-hour time frame you requested. In fact, they may even be able to handle the job in one spacewalk and be out of there in thirty-six hours, definitely giving them the head start they need.”

“Great. I plan on leaving for Camp David shortly. I want to be there once the shit hits the fan. I’m scheduled to be there through the Fourth of July. When this goes public I want to be slow to respond, and being in Camp David will make this more plausible. I will eventually return to the White House due to the crisis and address the media in full detail, probably Monday. I expect our men to be on their way in the Soyuz by then. When should we expect to get pictures and video of our landing sites?”

“Once they leave the ISS, four days. So we could start receiving pictures as early as the fourth,” Doug said.

“How ironic and appropriate.” The president put his hand to his chin, lightly rubbing it. “How about the detailed pictures taken from outside the spacecraft?”

“Within twenty-four hours of when they arrive at the moon.”

“Will you be able to transfer what we get to the UN?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Good. If all goes according to plan, in my press conference on Monday I’ll request a special session at the UN for the afternoon of July 5 to present our official response to China’s claims. I’ll have Steve attend the session. After he goes through his introduction and officially states China’s claims are lies, he can reference a large screen behind him which will have pictures of our landing sites. In fact it would be great if we could work in a live video feed from our men. That should shock the hell out of those Chinese delegates in attendance. I’d love to see their faces. We’ll give them a taste of their own medicine, humiliating them in front of the whole General Assembly just like they did us… perfect!” Bill smiled. “Doug, I want you to return to your office and make sure I am constantly updated on the progress of the mission.”

“Yes, sir, I will make sure your office gets regular up-to-date status reports.”

The president got up, signaling the meeting was over. “Gentlemen, let’s pray our men pull this off.”