Space Hoax

7 “SAVE US!”

Sitting in the commander’s center seat of the tight Soyuz, Alex was meticulously going through the many system checks required to prepare their ship for launch. Peter had finished his system checks in the left co-pilot seat and was now reviewing the binder that explained the re-entry procedures needed to bring Galileo home. He was far from being an expert on the operation since the moon mission did not require returning the craft. Only if they had an emergency during launch would he have had to immediately turn back and return to Earth. As a result, he had limited training at SpaceQuest on the process. He needed to take advantage of every spare moment. Peter felt a nudge on his leg. Lying on his back with his legs strapped in so his feet were up to his butt, he tried to lift his head to see his partner. Regrettably the Skylab helmet did not rotate, and even with his visor up he could not see Alex over the parachutes stuffed around them.

“Mission control now do their checks. We have moment of peace. You should take advantage. Not much time to rest later.”

Peter set the Galileo manual on his stomach. The countdown clock on his computer screen showed they had a little over an hour before launch. It was tough to relax knowing every passing minute was inching the stranded cosmonauts closer to death. Nevertheless, orbital mechanics could not be manipulated. They had no choice but to wait until they were in the International Space Station’s exact orbit before launching, which happened only twice a day, allowing for a mere five-minute window each time. Though waiting was making him anxious, Alex was probably right. It might be his only time to rest, and a mental break would probably do him good. They had been working nonstop since boarding. Peter saw Alex’s arm extend upward as he hung a small colorful stuffed bear off a knob on the control panel above them. Peter smiled as Alex lightly spun the suspended toy.

“My son give me. It tell when we in space.”

“How old is your son?”

“Mikhail seventeen. On my first mission he five. He pick out toy for me. He do for all my missions. Be our tradition and bring me luck.”

“Do you have any other kids?”

“I have four. Mikhail is youngest, then son 19, daughter 22 and son 24.”

“Wow, big family.”

“Yes. Keep wife busy. You have kids?”

A sinking sensation stung at Peter as he thought of Anya and the baby. “No, but maybe someday.” Peter reached down to a Velcro closed pocket on his spacesuit leg and ripped it open. With his gloved hand, he fiddled around until he found what he was looking for, Anya’s picture. He pulled it out and looked at it for a while. He thought back to the last time he was in a Soyuz with her picture. Then he had been certain he would die. He thanked God for saving him. He spotted some Velcro on the spacecraft wall to his left, but instead elected to attach the picture to a clip on the control panel in front of him.

“She pretty. Is that not Viktor’s daughter?”

Peter proudly smiled as he stared at the picture. “It is.”

“Dmitri tell me of you two. She good kid. You lucky. Viktor work with your dad on US/USSR mission of ’70s, yes?”

Peter relaxed his neck muscles allowing his head to fall back against the back of his helmet. “They did. Dad was backup. That is how I got to know Dmitri. He and I became childhood friends while playing at Star City over a summer when our dads trained together.”

“I sorry your dad pass away. He was great astronaut, and thanks to you, the world knows he walk on moon.”

Peter smiled as the image of his initials carved in the lunar dust flashed through his mind. “Thanks. He was also a great father.”

“I saw your suit say Robinson. Is that same astronaut who walk on moon with your dad?”

“It is.”

“I shut my eyes now.”

Peter smiled. With the muffled noise of the rocket breathing outside, he calmly closed his eyes and drifted off.

Peter was a small boy as he tried to hold on as his body slid side to side across the black leather passenger seat of the 1972 silver convertible Corvette. This was Peter’s first time riding in the new car as his dad raced Dusty Robinson in his matching Vette down NASA 1. All three members of his dad’s crew received identical cars from the local dealer, the only differences being the color of the stripe on each hood and their official abbreviation of their crew position painted just under the doorknob. His dad’s had CDR for commander and a blue stripe.

With the top and all the windows down, Peter was getting the full experience of raw speed as the erratic wind blew wildly inside the car, and he loved it. The seven-year-old curled both hands on the top of the door and lifted up as far as the lap belt would allow so he could see over at his dad’s partner speeding next to them. The late afternoon sun shone off the shiny car with its red stripe. Dusty was laughing as he did a cocky wave before making a daring move, cutting off Peter’s father. “Dad, catch him!”

With one hand on the wheel and the other expertly working the stick, his dad calmly said, “Son, we want to be safe about this.” He then swiftly downshifted and the engine roared as he yelled out, “But don’t worry, I’ll catch him.” The tires screeched as he swerved over into the other lane before gunning the car and passing up his friend. He lifted his hand high in the air and waved back to his lunar module pilot as he shouted out, “That’s how the commander drives, son.”

Peter was excited to be tagging along with his dad and Dusty on a public relations visit on behalf of NASA to the Astrodome. Peter’s hero, Evel Knievel, was in town to jump thirteen cars with his powerful motorcycle. As much as he admired Evel, seeing his dad in his NASA issued gold sunglasses looking cool convinced him he wanted to be an astronaut just like his father.

Once in the Astrodome, Peter couldn’t believe how much great food was all around in the nicely decorated hall. Evel wasn’t scheduled to jump for awhile, and before taking their seats his dad said he needed to shake some hands. Peter was being introduced to a lot of people, but all he wanted to do was have a Coke and try some of the great looking desserts. “Daddy, can I have something to eat?”

His dad was busy talking to a gentleman dressed in a coat and tie and he didn’t answer. Peter tried pulling on his father’s pants to get his attention, but no luck. Dusty finally bent down and whispered. “Your dad is talking to a very important man. How about I take you to get something?”

Peter perked up. “Okay.”

Dusty grabbed his small hand and escorted him toward the table with soups and salads, passing by many folks who said hello. Once at the table Peter shook his head and pointed toward the desserts. “Can we start over there?”

Dusty looked in the direction of the dessert table before looking back down with one eyebrow raised. “Peter, you need to eat something healthy before having some dessert.”

His mom made him eat a peanut butter sandwich before leaving. However, he knew his dad wouldn’t allow him to go straight to the desserts, but maybe he could convince Dusty he already had a full meal. “Mr. Robinson, I already ate dinner. Mom fed me.”

Dusty looked toward his dad, as if trying to get his attention. Peter didn’t wait and pulled Dusty toward the dessert table. The astronaut reluctantly followed. As Peter approached the massive display of desserts, he was completely in awe. He simply didn’t know where to start. There were all kinds of cakes, pies, and even a container sitting in ice filled with vanilla ice cream.

Dusty grabbed a plate. “So what would you like?”

Peter decided to start with the big chocolate cake in the middle. He pointed to the double-decker masterpiece. “A piece of that with some ice cream, please.”

Dusty gave him a questioning look. “Are you sure your dad will be okay with this?”

Peter vigorously nodded “yes.”

Dusty cut the cake and scooped up a huge portion of ice cream that he put on top of the cake. He grabbed a spoon before looking down at Peter. “Let’s go grab a seat.”

Peter’s mouth watered as he followed closely behind the tall man. Dusty found an empty table and pulled out a chair as he placed the plate down. Peter leaped into the seat and quickly dug in.

Dusty took a seat next to him. “Slow down, young man. It’s not going anywhere.”

Peter was in heaven. The cake tasted fabulous. As he started to take another bite, he realized the VIP badge around his neck was hanging in the ice cream. Dusty noticed the same and grabbed the badge before pulling it gently over Peter’s head. “Let me clean this off for you.” Dusty reached over to a pile of paper napkins and picked up one to wipe off the badge. He suddenly stopped and oddly stared at the badge for a second. Peter stuffed another spoonful of cake in his mouth, wondering what Mr. Robinson was up to.

Peter was startled when he felt a strong hand on his back. “What are you doing eating cake?” Peter looked back to see his dad. He was caught.

Dusty gave Peter a stern raised eyebrow before coming to his rescue. “I said he could start with it. I figured it was a special outing for him. Besides, I have to say that cake looked pretty damn good.”

“Your mom’s going to kill me. She wanted you to have a good dinner.” His dad took a seat next to him as he placed his arm on his shoulders. “I guess it’s okay if you start with dessert, but let’s keep this as our little secret.”

Peter smiled as he nodded “yes.”

His dad flashed a playful grin as he leaned in toward the cake. “So give your dad a bite.”

His dad liked cake and ice cream together, so Peter got a little of each on the spoon before putting it up to his dad’s mouth. His dad winked as he opened wide and engulfed the whole end of the spoon.

Dusty had a quizzical look as he spoke up, still holding Peter’s badge. “Tom, you know how you were wondering how you could honor Peter during our moonwalk?”

His dad tried to talk with his mouth full, but the best he could do was mumble, “Yeah.”

“How about you carve his initials in the lunar dust?”

His dad’s eyes widened as he swallowed the last bit of food, his grin no longer there. “That’s a great idea. Those initials would stay up there forever.” His father grabbed a napkin and slowly wiped his mouth, looking straight ahead. Then he looked down at his son. “How would you like that, Peter? How would you like to have your initials, PDN, on the moon surface where they will be forever?”

All Peter cared about now was getting a drink. “Can I have a Coke?”

His dad laughed. “Sure, son.”

“T-MINUS 15 SECONDS,” called out mission control.

The last twenty minutes had been a struggle for Peter due to the tight, curled-up seating position required in the Soyuz. For the last two and a half hours, the only movement he was able to make below his waist was to wiggle his toes. But feeling like he was in some medieval torture chair was now far from his mind. In less than fifteen seconds, he would experience his second launch into space, and though he was excited about the ride ahead, he was surprisingly calm. A dull roar began as the engines started to slowly come to life, causing him to instinctively try to push himself closer into his seat, even though he was securely tied down at eight different points.

Both Peter and Alex held checklists, while Alex also had the poker to push buttons on the control panel as needed. Peter’s visor was open, since his suit connections did not tie into the spacecraft’s life support systems, requiring him to breathe the cabin air. This allowed his senses to take in all aspects of the firing of those powerful kerosene-oxygen engines below that were getting ready to catapult him deep into the sky.

“10…9…8…7…”

Peter was surprised at the lack of vibration as the rocket’s engines started to ramp up to full power, the muffled roar increasing in intensity.

“…4…3…2…1…we have liftoff!”

Very little acceleration tugged at his body as the huge rocket initially shook before it slowly started to lift off the pad. He couldn’t believe how calm and smooth the start of this ride was as their missile spurted out over a hundred tons of thrust. He instinctively looked back toward his window by his head to get a look outside, only to be reminded the cabin widows were covered by a protective shroud. As they continued to rise, the vibration and noise amazingly decreased. This was nothing like launching in the Newton 9. Peter looked back at his computer display to see everything was going as planned.

Alex’s calm voice resonated in the cockpit. “Engines operate nominally.”

“Copy,” replied mission control.

Peter was in good hands with the veteran at the controls. The last thing they needed was an emergency abort. If that happened, the stranded cosmonauts would definitely be lost; there was no time to try this again. The rocket slowly started to roll as he could scarcely tell the rocket was accelerating.

“Pitch and roll nominal.”

“Copy.”

Peter was impressed that his heart rate was barely increasing. He was so relaxed he contemplated reviewing the Galileo manual on the way up into space, but quickly passed on the idea in case an emergency did occur. He needed to stay alert to ensure he could react appropriately.

Alex’s voice stayed steady. “Nominal flight. Everything okay. Crew feel good.”

“Copy that.”

Staging went according to plan, and soon they were traveling over 1500 meters per second and reaching above the atmosphere. The small toy hanging in front of him started to float, signaling they were beyond the edge of Earth’s atmosphere in space. A sudden, large explosion above them caught him off guard until the cockpit was instantly sprayed with bright sunlight. He quickly realized the shroud protecting the spacecraft had jettisoned, allowing him his first opportunity to take in the view outside his window.

A big smile crossed Peter’s face when he turned to see the moon centered directly in his window, surrounded by deep blackness. He instantly thought of Viktor, feeling his friend’s presence. Peter was sure that, if the afterlife allowed it, the old cosmonaut’s spirit was probably sitting in the empty seat next to Alex making certain the commander was doing everything correctly.

Soon the spacecraft’s solar arrays were extended, and Peter was making contact with the disabled Soyuz, letting them know they were on their way. Considering how dire their situation was, Peter was impressed by the damaged spacecraft’s commander as he updated them in a calm voice. But the commander cut the transmission when the tourist screamed out in the background, “Hurry! Save us!”