USSR Hoax

24 THE MOON

Knowing the moon was just outside the spacecraft gave Tom goose bumps. Even though he couldn’t see the massive rock, he could sense its mighty presence. For the full duration of their flight, Earth’s natural satellite had been hidden from view due to their position and the sun’s glare. Tom was thrilled to see his planet shrink to the point where he could cover it up with only his thumb, but he regretted not being able to see their destination growing larger. Part of him questioned they were actually going to the moon.

Apollo 16 was flying around the back side in the darkness of the moon’s shadow, out of radio contact with mission control. Kirk had rotated the ship so Galaxy’s engine faced forward. Flying at over 5,000 mph, the brakes had to be applied just right to put the ship into lunar orbit, which would happen after Kirk fired the engine for the Lunar Orbit Insertion burn. If there was a malfunction and the engine didn’t ignite, the spacecraft would swing around the moon at a high rate of speed and be flung back to Earth.

An eerie silence hung over the darkened cabin as Tom double-checked his LOI checklist with a small flashlight. Confident he was ready for the burn, he rubbed the three-day-old stubble on his chin as he looked up at the instrument panel. He patiently waited for code “99,” the signal to fire the engine.

A shaft of bright sunlight gradually lit up the cabin as they exited the moon’s shadow, still on its back side.

Dusty floated to his window and looked out. “Man alive! Check that out, guys.”

Sitting upside down relative to the moon, Tom got his first close-up of the desolate lunar surface. It completely filled up all five windows of the cabin. Long, dark shadows extended for miles off the many gray mountains and crater rims scattered about. Amazed by the sight, he had to pry himself away to focus back on the controls. “Gentlemen, we have a job to do. Let’s get this burn completed before we get carried away with what’s outside our window.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dusty and Kirk floated back to their seats and strapped themselves in.

Tom put his flashlight away. “Dusty, I’m going to want a six-minute mark.” The engine was programmed for a six-minute and thirty-eight-second burn, and Tom wanted to know when they passed the six-minute mark.

Dusty started fiddling with his watch. Even though the vessel had an event timer, the Lunar Module Pilot always seemed to rely more on the stopwatch feature of his Omega watch. “Roger. Do you want a verbal count down?”

“Yes, from ten, so make sure your watch is wound up.”

Dusty chuckled. “I’ve got you covered, Commander.”

“I also want a countdown to engine cutoff.” Tom needed to assure that the engine shut down automatically as scheduled, or he’d manually do it. If the engine was allowed to fire too long, it could send them crashing into the moon, but too short and they’d be in an incorrect orbit.

“Okay.”

The code “99” message flashed. Instantly, Tom called out, “Kirk, ignition.”

Moving quickly and decisively, Kirk pushed in the proceed button. The engine fired. “Ignition!”

“Dusty, start the clock.”

“Clock started.”

A gentle vibration occurred, causing Tom’s body to experience a smooth and steady push into his seat. He kept a close eye on the monitors.

An alarm sounded, catching the crew’s attention.

Dusty reported, “Cryo pressure alarm.”

Unable to get any advice from Houston because they were behind the moon and in Loss of Signal, Tom had to make a call on the alarm. He suspected the cryogenic fluids in the tanks were probably experiencing unnecessary mixing due to the vibration. If this was the cause for the alarm, it wasn’t a problem. He made a calculated decision and said calmly, “Ignore alarm.”

“Roger. Shutting off alarm.”

After a nervous five and half minutes, Dusty called out, “Coming up on six minutes.”

“Roger. Give me a countdown.”

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2… mark.”

“How do we look, Kirk?”

“She’s steady. Looking good.”

Dusty chimed in. “Coming up on shutdown. 10, 9…”

Tom positioned his hand, ready to shut the engine off if the computer didn’t do the job.

“3, 2… shutdown.”

Right on the money, the engine stopped. Quiet filled the cabin. Once again, America’s engineering prowess had come through with flying colors. Apollo 16 was in lunar orbit.

Kirk broke the silence. “She looks to be right on the money.”

Tom let out a deep sigh. “Excellent. Good job, men. Now let’s take in the sights.”

TWENTY-FIVE PEOPLE were packed into the Novak home in Nassau Bay, there to support Anne and watch as her husband landed on the moon. Though Anne presented a composed look, deep inside, her stomach churned. Part of her wished the house was empty except for Peter so she could be herself during the landing. She could be free to curl up on the sofa in her pajamas with her son and scream or cry as she wished. But instead, she had to perform hostess duty which added even more pressure. Not only was she playing the role of Mrs. Astronaut along with Mrs. Hostess, she also had to have perfect hair and clothes for the press outside.

The many photographers and reporters surrounding her house had been waiting all day for her to come outside and make a statement. This being her second mission, she knew how to deal with the press. She made up her mind she wasn’t going to address them until Tom had safely completed his first EVA. If she faced the media before then, that would mean something had gone wrong with the landing, a thought she didn’t want to consider.

Anne was in her noisy kitchen with other women who were bustling about preparing appetizers. Anne was putting cold-cuts on a tray.

Poking her head into the refrigerator, Virginia spoke up over the chatter. “Anne, do you think four bottles of Cold Duck is enough?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

Before Anne heard the answer, another lady yelled out, “Anne, where are the big bowls for potato chips?”

Anne was about to answer when Peter called out from the living room, “Mom, can I have a cookie? Opa says I can’t.”

Anne’s head was spinning, not knowing who to answer. She felt a hand grip hers. It was Joan with a determined expression on her face, pulling Anne out of the kitchen.

Joan barked out instructions as she walked. “Ladies, please figure out these things on your own. Virginia, let Peter have half a cookie, and tell him that’s it until after dinner.”

Pulling Anne through the throngs of people, Joan led her up the stairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom, locking the door behind them.

Anne wasn’t sure what her best friend was up to. “What’s up?”

“Honey, I know what you’re going through. Remember, I’ve already been through this, and I was a wreck the night David landed.”

Joan turned down the squawk box on the nightstand and snatched the pack of cigarettes and lighter. Anne grabbed an ashtray off the dresser and both ladies met at the center of the bed, sitting side by side. Anne placed the ashtray in between while Joan pulled out a couple of cigarettes, handing one to Anne. She placed the smoke in her mouth and leaned toward Joan for a light.

Taking in a deep puff, Anne instantly felt a calming effect come over her as she put her head back. She savored the feeling for a moment before blowing the smoke toward the ceiling. “So you were a wreck? You seemed so calm.”

Joan lit her cigarette and put the lighter down. “No, I wasn’t calm. In fact, I was the complete opposite, just as I know you are now. You looked like you needed a quiet moment away from everything.”

Anne took in another deep drag. “Thanks for saving me. I did.”

Joan put her hand on top of Anne’s. “Listen, I know you’re scared, just like I was. I can give you some BS that everything will be all right, but you and I both know the risks involved. I just want you to know I will be there for you, no matter what happens. You are my best friend and I love you.”

Anne turned her hand over and squeezed. “That means a lot. Thanks.” Anne looked at the light blue curtains covering her window. “It’s tough when there is nothing you can do. I like listening to the squawk box, but sometimes I’m afraid of what I might hear, like fear in Tom’s voice.”

“Nothing scares that husband of yours.”

Anne smiled. “I guess, but I keep thinking of our friends who became widows. I don’t want that to happen to me. I don’t want Peter to grow up without a father.”

Joan returned the squeeze. “I know.”

THE PURE OXYGEN flowing into Tom’s helmet dried out his tongue, making it difficult to moisten his chapped lips. He and Dusty stood in the Lunar Module in their spacesuits, anchored to the floor by harness straps. Having already separated the LM from the Command Module, Tom was now gearing up for the ultimate test for any pilot, landing on the moon. Once given the Go from mission control, he would arm the descent engine and give Dusty the order to ignite the rocket, sending their ship into a controlled fall toward the moon. Once the engine fired, there would be no turning back, no second chance. Everything had to go right, or they would be forced to abandon the attempt and return to the command module for home. The LM flew face down in a horizontal position, parallel to the moon’s surface, with the engine aimed in the direction of flight. Tom’s body was in that same horizontal alignment with his feet leading the way. He looked down through one of the two small, triangular windows at the barren scene passing by. You don’t intimidate me. We’re on our way.

Months earlier, Tom had made the decision he would take control from the computer at the 500-foot level. Though no one at NASA knew his plan, his copilot did. Both agreed not to leave their fate in the hands of a “blind” machine. It wasn’t that he didn’t think the computer could land their spacecraft, he just felt he was the better pilot. The way he saw it, he was in his position because of his flying skills, so why waste those God-given human talents here, over 200,000 miles away from home? Below his feet was the world’s first throttleable rocket engine that even allowed for hovering. No way was some computer going to have all the fun.

“Explorer, Houston. You are Go for PDI.”

Being cleared for Power Descent Initiation, Tom switched from the push-to-talk mode to the voice-activated mode, allowing mission control to hear everything he and Dusty said. “Roger, Houston. Go for PDI.” Tom flipped switches to arm the descent engine before giving Dusty the signal. The LMP nodded as he pushed in the proceed button.

Due to the initial low thrust, there was no obvious sign that the engine had ignited. Only the control panel in front of Tom confirmed the startup. “Ignition,” he said, adrenaline flowing.

It took less than forty seconds for the engine to ramp up to full power. At that point the cabin vibrated from the rumbling engine, and the LM started to slow, allowing the moon’s gravity to grab the ship and pull it down.

Dusty called out, “H-dot about 15 high.”

Dusty was reporting that their trajectory was a little high. Through years of training in the simulator together, both men had agreed everything inside the cockpit was for Dusty. He was to feed Tom all the necessary data observed from the instrument panel so Tom could keep his hands on the controls and make any adjustments needed without looking away from the window. Though this wasn’t critical at this juncture of the flight, it would be paramount during the last 5,000-foot drop. “Roger.”

Soon the engine automatically throttled down as they continued the braking. At the 40,000-foot level, Tom flipped the spacecraft completely over, windows up, pointing the landing radar down toward the lunar surface. The astronaut’s backs were now to the moon. All they saw out their windows was the darkness of space. This maneuver allowed the radar to determine their attitude. Once Dusty keyed in the appropriate codes, the computer started to accept the radar readings. Small thrusters stationed all around the ship came to life as the computer activated them to adjust the ship’s trajectory per the information it received from the radar. The ship shuddered from these corrective jet bursts, causing a bumpy ride.

Tom gripped a handhold, studying the instrument panel, confirming the computer was doing its job. All looked good. “Houston, Explorer. Altitude light out, velocity light out.” Tom informed mission control that the radar was on and working. A burst of color began to slowly creep into his window. The only color in deep space was Earth, which caught him by surprise. The fact that his home planet would be visible at this point of the descent was never discussed in any preflight meeting. He took it as a good omen, blowing a quick kiss in its direction.

THE GUESTS WERE crammed in both the living room and the adjoining dining room of the Novak home. With no television network breaking into their regularly scheduled programming to cover the Apollo 16 landing, Anne had the TV volume turned down low. Instead, the squawk box kept everyone abreast of exactly what was happening. Anne listened intently, especially whenever her husband spoke, trying to get any indication that something could be going wrong.

With the minute-by-minute flight plan spread out all over the dining room table, Anne relied on David to answer any of her questions. She stood next to the former moonwalker, pleased he wasn’t needed at mission control until Tom ventured out of the spacecraft.

David pointed to a timeline on the flight plan. “They’re approaching the point of Pitch-over.”

Leaning over the table, David picked up the silver and gold Lunar Module model. “Let me show you what Tom is preparing to do.”

David pretended the table was the lunar surface and lifted the model a few feet up, positioning it on its side. He then slowly moved it across the table. “He is flying the LM like this and will gradually pitch it up like so.” He rotated the ship slightly up so the four legs angled down toward the table with the windows facing in the direction they were going. “The LM will be in this slanted position so the engine can control their horizontal speed and ensure they don’t drop too fast.”

Anne stared at the spidery-looking model, still astounded such a weird-looking spacecraft could actually fly. She stared at the small window, imagining Tom peering out with determination on his face.

David looked at those who were listening. “This is the moment where Tom will show us his pilot skills.”

Anne took that to mean her husband was approaching a dangerous part of the descent. She felt an arm drape around her shoulder. She turned and saw Tom’s dad, Hank, wearing a fearless grin.

“Don’t worry, dear. Tom can fly anything. I betcha he does a pinpoint landing. The best one yet on the moon.”