Lunar Discovery: Let the Space Race Begin

by Salvador Mercer

Marge smiled and looked back to her console. “We’re almost there, boss.”

  “Houston to Blackjack, we’ve lost direct coms, switching to alternates,” Jack said.

  The video feed was lost as the small communication satellites were so small, they simply handled audio and small data feeds only. Video could be streamed and even truncated to lower the bandwidth requirements, but Jeff and Tom didn’t like the idea of clogging the server with that much data and potentially losing contact between the two. Rock had agreed, and they compromised on a data stream as well as audio. There was no telling what that device could do to their signals once they got close to it.

  “Houston, this is Blackjack, commencing landing burn. We are on target, all systems check,” Craig said.

  “Roger, Blackjack, you are a go for landing,” Jack said.

  Craig’s voice came across the channel, and it was difficult to only listen and not be able to see the lander. “Plus eighty feet, plus sixty feet . . . plus forty feet, plus twenty feet.” The sound of the rocket’s increasing thrust was clearly heard now in the background as they increased their burn. “Plus fifteen feet, plus ten feet, eight, six, five, three, one, touchdown. I repeat, Houston, this is Blackjack, successful touchdown on target.”

  Rock listened to the room as cheers erupted, and he half fancied he heard some noise from behind the supposedly soundproof observation glass above his head. America had returned to the moon.

  Chapter 28

  Lunar Surface

  Crimson Glory

  Lunar Surface, Marianas Plain

  In the near future, Day 48

  “Did you copy?” Hen Sing asked for the third time as he repeated his transmission.

  There was a pause again before the static reply came back. “Affirmative, Crimson Glory, copy unknown object overhead, landing at one hundred one degrees of your location.”

  Sing had watched something burning overhead and slightly to his south. He had landed somewhat farther north of the moon’s equator, having overshot his landing zone by a fair margin. At first he thought it was a meteor until it started to slow and actually had a controlled descent, disappearing somewhere over the horizon.

  “Crimson Glory confirmed, over and out,” Sing said, no longer wanting to be pandered to. He knew his time was up, and only his sense of duty kept him from just ending it there and now.

  He glanced over at his oxygen readout where it was starting to approach the red line yet again. He had gone through three of his five oxygen containers and was about to be forced to open the fourth if he wanted to live for more than an hour or so.

  Sing closed his eyes and focused on lowering his pulse and his breathing rate. He had never thought that his meditation skills could mean the difference in living or dying a few hours earlier or later. If that was all that fate would give to him, then he would take it.

  *****

  People’s Republic Space Command

  Beijing, China

  In the near future, Day 47

  “Better to just tell the man,” Hun argued with the general over the phone. “What’s left now then if we’re going to abort the entire mission?”

  “Calm down, Director Lee.” General Wang’s voice came across calmly despite the current situation. “My experts inform me that the Crimson Glory can still record data and upload it manually to the orbiter even after the detonation of the warhead. We need that data, coupled with the orbiter’s, in order to be sure our mission is successful. Now it would be less than optimal if Colonel Sing did something to hamper the equipment on board the Glory. Make sure you download the auto commands on the orbiter’s next pass so that they will record and upload the data even after his passing.”

  Hun wrapped his hand around the mouthpiece. “Son of a . . .” He looked at his team and then uncovered it again. “Fine, we’ll have the commands uploaded and set on automatic. Do you want to tell Colonel Sing, or shall I?”

  “I already ordered you to withhold this information until the detonation of the missile. Then you can inform him once we have confirmation of the alien device’s destruction.”

  “Fine, anything else, sir?” Hun said a bit more impertinent than was wise when dealing with an autocratic government figure, especially one as powerful as General Wang.

  “No. Now do your duty, Director,” Wang said, hanging up the phone.

  “Well?” Lin asked as Hun set the phone in its cradle.

  “Proceed with the auto commands. Don’t tell Sing; I’ll do it in about ten hours,” Hun said.

  “So they are just going to let him die up there?” Chon said, his voice bitter.

  “We knew that when he blew the explosive bolts and landed. What’s done is done, now get to work.” Hun was uncharacteristically blunt, but he didn’t want anyone in his team to bring the general’s wrath down on themselves.

  His team went back to their consoles, and Hun looked around at the armed soldiers. He suddenly felt sick just letting Sing die without telling the man what was coming, unless . . . Could it be possible? He could try, though it would cost him his life if he was caught.

  Hun thought about his family, his wife, his grown children. No, it wouldn’t be worth it. Not for such a long shot. Then he sat as his desk and pulled up the state website link where they had announced Colonel Sing’s heroic appointment. There standing next to him was his wife. They must have been in their late fifties. Who was that in the background? Clearly several children who at first Hun thought were simply bystanders admiring their hero, but no, those were his grandchildren and his daughters and sons. This was taken at his family estate.

  Looking one last time at the picture, Hun closed the web link and stood up. Sing’s family demanded a full accounting of their actions, and didn’t the general just tell Hun to do his duty? Hun walked out of the control center, nodding at Chon to take over without saying a word. He would do his duty, even at the risk of his life.

  *****

  Gordust Space Station

  Low Moon Orbit

  In the near future, Day 48

  “Microwaves?” Yuri said, shaking his head in confusion. “That’s impossible. We’re shielded against them as well as gamma and x-rays. What Vostochny is saying isn’t possible.”

  “I’m just relaying the message,” Olga said. “Do you want to talk to them?”

  “No, I go away for a code ten, and when I get back, everyone is turning the law of physics upside down,” Yuri said, tightening the straps on his seat. A code ten was the polite term they used when they took a bathroom break.

  Nikolai’s voice came through the intercom, and Yuri made a note that next time, he’d pay the man a visit instead of hearing his constant droning over the com channel. “Clearing LOS in thirty seconds.”

  “Already?” Yuri asked, looking at Olga.

  “You took a long time in there,” Olga said. “We’re about to lose line of sight again. They are only ninety-minute orbits.”

  “Blyad, woman, I know our orbital rotation. I’m just vexed at Nikolai’s constant stream of data. He sounds like a computer.”

  “The man just lost two of his closest comrades. This probably helps keep him focused,” Olga said.

  “Gordust now dark, reacquisition in forty-eight minutes,” Nikolai said in his monotone voice.

  “Code ten, Olga?” Yuri asked.

  Olga just shot him a glance and went back to aiming their radar and infrared back to their forward angles. “What’s that?” Olga said, motioning to the main screen between them.

  Yuri looked up and saw a heat signature about twenty-five kilometers from the alien device and Zvesda. “Is the Chinese lander still in the same position? It didn’t take a bounce, did it?”

  Olga switched the monitor to show the Chinese landing site on a grid about thirty kilometers farther west relative to the new contact. “Yes, it’s still at its original site. This is a new lander and new signature. It’s much stronger than the Chinese one.”

  Yuri looked and saw stronger reds and orang
es coming from the new signal and instantly knew it to be American. “I think those Yankees have landed.”

  “Da, it seems that Vostochny was correct about their arrival time but not about their LZ,” Olga said. The crew had monitored reports that the Apollo 21’s arrival was imminent, but Vostochny knew ahead of time their flight path and approximate landing zone or LZ. The former was correct while the latter wasn’t. The news reports seemed to be accurate, though delayed just a bit as events unfolded.

  “They landed a healthy distance from the target,” Yuri said, continuing to look at their shared monitor. “They must have a rover for them to EVA in, otherwise that would be an impossible walk.”

  Olga nodded her head. “They may be stranded as well if their rover breaks down on them, and that’s a high likelihood given the new signal data from Zvesda.”

  “Speaking of which, we need to vent the excess heat and figure out a way to mitigate the microwaves if the analysis from mission control is correct,” Yuri said.

  “Way ahead of you on that one,” Olga said, keying her internal mike. “Nikolai, are you and Viktor ready for decompression?”

  “Affirmative,” Nikolai’s voice responded. “We are fully suited, and all equipment and gear is secured back here. We really going to do this?”

  “Da,” Olga responded. “Prepare for emergency venting in two minutes.”

  “We’re ready. All systems go for emergency venting,” Nikolai said.

  Olga looked at Yuri and nodded. “We’ll see if opening the two main space locks will allow the station to cool off. I’m more worried about equipment failure from exposure to the vacuum of space at this point.”

  “Agreed, Olga, but the equipment was designed for emergency exposure just in case of a hull breach or leak of some kind,” Yuri said, adjusting his helmet and using his own mike since they couldn’t talk face to face inside the command pod.

  “We’re almost done with the station compression,” Olga said, referring to the fact that their atmospheric pumps were working hard to compress the current atmosphere of nitrogen and oxygen from the station into several storage tanks so that the exposure to the vacuum of space would not violently destroy any part of the station. “I’d have preferred not to test those safety specifications.”

  “Agreed again, Olga,” Yuri said. “I hope this works, otherwise we’re going to have to abandon our mission and return to earth before the next orbital rotation. We can’t risk losing any of our computer systems.”

  The two sat in silence until their own internal timer hit zero, and Olga punched the space interlocking bay door overrides. In silence, on their internal monitors, they watched as the doors to space opened while the internal locking doors remained opened, exposing the entire internal cabin of the Gordust to the vacuum of space.

  “Mission crew, five by five,” Nikolai said over the intercom system.

  “Copy, Nikolai, we show all systems still go, temperature at thirty-nine degrees and holding,” Olga said, watching the digital readout now taking the place of the lunar surface on their shared screen.

  “Come on, baby, drop . . .” Yuri said, absentmindedly opening his mike.

  It seemed like an eternity before the temperature started to drop, first by tenths of a degree and then finally by full integers.

  “It’s working,” Nikolai’s voice said, a touch of static still present.

  “Da, this is fortunate,” Olga said, her voice expressing obvious relief. “How long do we need to maintain vacuum, Yuri?”

  “Let’s get it below thirty degrees, and then we reseal and check for atmospheric pressure,” Yuri said. “It may take a while as the heat is radiated away. It’s not like there’s an atmosphere to dispel it.”

  “I guess we stay a bit longer, eh?” Olga asked, a slight upturn to her lips visible through her helmeted faceplate.

  “I think so, Olga,” Yuri said. “Perhaps long enough to see what happens down there. Perhaps.”

  *****

  Apollo 21

  Lunar Surface, Marianas Plain

  In the near future, Day 48

  “Houston, this is Blackjack. Rover successfully deployed. Request authorization to commence lunar operations,” Julie said, using her internal mike system as she stood outside the lander and took in the vast display of grey dust, illuminated by the intense overhead lights of the lander.

  “Blackjack, this is Houston. We copy rover readiness, and authorization to commence lunar operations approved,” Jack’s voice came across the main channel.

  “Roger that, Houston, commencing first stage to target. Will update at waypoint one.” Julie clicked her mike.

  There was a pause before Richard Crandon’s voice came across, less formally than usual. “Blackjack, this is Houston. Congrats on being the first woman to walk on the moon, Julie. We’re celebrating down here. Make us proud.”

  Julie smiled as she keyed her mike. “Roger that, Houston, will do. Give my regards to your team. Excellent job. The lander flew like a charm.”

  There was no reply as Julie stepped up and into the rover, seating herself and closing the access door. “You ready back there?” she said.

  “Let’s get this over with before our Chinese friend arrives,” Craig said using their short range FM radio channel. Craig sat facing the rear in a seat directly behind the lone operator seat. The plan was for Julie to back him up to the device and he would use the robotic arms to manipulate the diamond tip of the alien device, taking it and storing it in a cargo compartment at his feet. The rover was heavily shielded in order to perform its mission so close to the device and the alien signal generator.

  “Just hang on,” Julie said, punching the master control lever forward and engaging the electric motors, which started to whine at the sudden demand. She then flipped two overhead switches, and a row of intense halogen lights lit up, illuminating the terrain ahead of her for well over a hundred yards. Headlights also came on as well as a rear light, so Craig could see out the back.

  “Keep us on the ground,” Craig said, referring to the moon’s low gravity, only a sixth that of the earth’s.

  “I didn’t backseat fly, so you don’t backseat drive,” Julie said, her tone serious but a huge smile coming across her face.

  “Right,” Craig said, his voice trailing off to silence as he also flipped a switch, killing most of the lights on the lander, and the rear of the rover was plunged into a deeper darkness.

  *****

  NASA Space Center

  Houston, Texas

  In the near future, Day 48

  “Do we tell them, Gloria?” Vice President Lee asked via his secured radio phone from the Houston control center observation room perched a floor up with glass windows overlooking the mission center’s main floor.

  “Not yet,” President Powers said. “We have a situation developing right now, and I don’t want to complicate things further.”

  “They already know about the Chinese nuke. What’s the issue in telling them about the dead Russians?” Lee said.

  “The nuke was to light a fire under their asses and get them moving. Telling them what they may find there could only hinder them at this point. We’ll have NASA inform them when they’re ready for their final approach.”

  “Do we also update them on the nuke?”

  “I don’t know yet. It may be better if they think they have more time,” Powers said, her voice somber. “I’m sure their team leader would call abort if they knew.”

  “So what? You give the order and override?” Lee said, his voice sounding incredulous.

  “That’s not how a democracy operates, John. We need to respect the process.”

  “And withholding this information respects the democratic process exactly how?” Lee asked.

  “National security matter, John, and you know it. We’ll let them know as soon as we can. In the meantime, we’ve had something come up.”

  “Please tell me it’s something good, Gloria.”

  “We’ll see, J
ohn. Just keep our crew up there on schedule. I’d like to see them return.”

  “I would like that as well,” Vice President Lee finished, hanging up the phone.

  Chapter 29

  Anticipation

  People’s Republic Space Command

  Beijing, China

  In the near future, Day 48

  Hun’s hand had almost trembled as he handed the lunar map to his uncle and watched him leave the complex. That was hours ago, and Hun had returned to the control center to monitor the progress of their sole astronaut. He kept checking his pager, and Lin looked at him suspiciously as he paced back and forth yet again near his console.

  “You really need to be less obvious,” Lin said, practically whispering to her boss as she walked over and stood near his console, papers in her hands.

  “Obvious? What do you mean?” Hun asked, his voice sounding stressed as he stopped his pacing and stood facing his junior technician, the control room somewhat dim, primarily illuminated by console workstation lights, main screen monitors, and computer display equipment.

  Lin leaned in even closer. “I have no idea what you did or are doing, but it’s obvious you’re up to something.”

  Hun took a deep breath and walked over to his chair to sit. Perhaps sitting would be less obvious? he thought to himself. He took another breath and then looked at Lin, noticing that Chon was watching them closely from his nearby console. “I’m fine now, Lin. Just nervous about Colonel Sing is all.”

  Lin nodded and then looked at Hun’s waist. The old fashioned pager started to vibrate, its small screen glowing an eerie green color. “You still use one of those?” Lin asked, her eyebrows arching.

  Hun shrugged and pulled the old pager from where it was clipped to his belt. It was his uncle saying he had his lunch ready. The older man had worked in the space program for decades and had retired a long time ago but still had his access card to the common areas on the grounds of their facility. Hun looked at Lin, putting the pager back. “I’ll be right back.”