Space Hoax (Hoax Trilogy Book 2)

by Paul Gillebaard

  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!”

  8

  IT’S TIME

  The Head of the CIA, Jack Dawson, sat patiently in the black leather chair across from the President while the leader of the free world barked out orders over the phone. The President had just waved Jack into the Oval Office before swiveling his chair around to focus on his conversation. Not wanting to come across as eavesdropping, Jack pulled out his notebook to review notes for their meeting, which he had requested.

  Soon the President swung around and slammed the phone down. “Damn that Chief of Staff. Sometimes I wonder why I appointed him.”

  Jack felt it was none of his business. “Good afternoon, Mr. President.”

  Bill Edwards took a deep breath before putting his hands behind his head as he casually leaned back in his chair. “Sorry about that, Jack. So how are you?”

  Jack straightened up. “I am doing well. Thank you, sir.”

  The President swiveled his chair slightly so he could cros
s his legs, bringing his arms down and casually putting one on his desk. He partly turned his head and shot an apologetic look toward Jack. “I never had the opportunity to personally congratulate you on successfully carrying out the mission to the moon. Your man did a hell of a job.”

  Jack modestly bowed his head. “Thank you, sir. Peter was just doing his job.”

  The President slapped his desk with an opened hand. “Hell with that! That man was willing to sacrifice his life for his country. Thanks to men like that, we live in the greatest nation on Earth.” The President lifted both legs before twirling around and placing them under his desk while setting both arms on top. He leaned forward. “I want to meet this Peter Novak. When can you have him visit the White House?”

  “Well sir, that’s why I’m here. I need to update you on a current crisis in space.”

  The President’s fists tightened as his face turned red. “What? Again? Is China involved?”

  “No, sir.”

  Bill relaxed his hands. “What’s happened?”

  “There was some type of explosion on the Soyuz that was launched a couple of days ago, and the crew is currently stranded in space.”

  The President’s eyes widened with concern. “Are they okay?”

  Jack’s tone hardened. “Yes, sir. But they were forced into the Orbital Module and the damage affected their oxygen supply.”

  “Are there any Americans onboard?”

  “No, sir, but there is a space tourist.”

  The President was jolted upright in his chair. “Damn! Who?”

  “Carlos Calma, son of Jose Calma.”

  The President got up from his desk and walked silently over to the window, and stood looking outside. “Are we positive China’s not involved, trying to get back at us for showing them up?”

  Looking in the President’s direction, Jack spoke firmly. “Though we are not sure what caused the explosion, neither NASA nor Russia has given any indication the problem was caused by foul play.”

  The President folded his arms as he continued to stare out the window. Jack sat patiently.

  Finally, Jack broke the silence. “Sir, if men die in the Soyuz, especially a tourist, the spacecraft would surely need to be grounded until the problem is identified and solved, which could take up to a year. Since the Soyuz is our only means of getting astronauts to and from the space station, this would force us to abandon the ISS until the spacecraft is reinstated for flight, possibly threatening the station’s future.”

  The President calmly turned around and looked at the floor, rubbing his chin. He began to walk slowly back to his desk as he mumbled out loud to himself. “Damn, that would be a political nightmare.”

  “Yes, sir, and more finger-pointing at your office for the Space Shuttle being retired.”

  The President came to an abrupt stop as he threw both hands up in frustration. “Damn it, you know I wasn’t part of that decision!”

  Jack spoke in a calm and supportive tone. “Yes, sir, I do. But as you know, public opinion doesn’t.”

  The President shook his head as he resumed his march back to his chair. “How about if we allow SpaceQuest to fly our men to the station if the Soyuz is grounded?”

  “Sir, even though they were successful at getting Peter to the ISS, they still need more testing before NASA will approve their astronauts riding aloft in that thing. Besides, we don’t even know if it can safely return men home.”

  “So what is your suggestion?”

  “Sir, we secretly launched a rocket to save the crew.”

  The President arched his eyebrows as he took a seat. Sounding sarcastic he questioned, “Another Soyuz?”

  “Sir, this is a different model, which they hope will not have the same problem.”

  The President locked his hands together on his desk. “So the Russians are handling this?”

  “They are overseeing the mission, but it’s our man who will carry out the rescue.”

  “Who?”

  Jack spoke without hesitation. “Peter Novak.”

  An amused grin crossed the President’s face. “I should have guessed.”

  PETER WAS CONNECTED to the Galileo by a single tether line as he floated precariously alone in space, struggling to attach the SAFER. Sweat pooled aggressively on his forehead. The only sound echoing in his helmet was his heavy breathing. He no longer had the luxury of talking with mission control since his suit wasn’t compatible with Russia’s radio system. He was now on his own to save the stranded men.

  So far, the mission was going according to plan. Peter and Alex had successfully reached and entered the International Space Station. After quick preparations, Peter was hustled into the Galileo and launched from the ISS. There were no complications when SpaceQuest’s mission control, working hand in hand with the Russians, navigated Galileo through space to rendezvous with the stranded Soyuz in its own orbit.

  He was now working to buckle the jetpack around his waist, after easily unhooking the machine that had been strapped on the outside of Galileo by some ISS astronauts during a spacewalk. Working against time, Peter had to remind himself that Newton’s laws worked much better in zero gravity as he fought with the makeshift straps put on by the ISS astronauts. He finally secured the last buckle and was ready to start up the contraption. He swung both metal arms up so they were perpendicular to his body, locking them in place before placing his arms on top. Before hitting the “on” switch, he looked out at his destination. There, floating ominously about thirty feet away, was the damaged Soyuz. As he eyed his target, the hatch located on the round portion of the ship where all three men were stuffed, Peter tried to imagine the stress and strain the spacemen inside must be experiencing. The backside solar array was missing; he assumed the explosion must have happened on that side. Pieces of ripped silver insulation drifted around the circular hatch housing like the tentacles of an octopus, teasing him to come closer.

  With his helmet rigid on his suit, he had to lift his arm to see how much time had expired since hooking up his oxygen supply. The bright sun made it easy to see the Russian military watch he’d strapped around on the outside of his suit. He was on schedule. Peter was instructed to wait at Galileo until he saw the hatch start to open from the damaged spacecraft. With his clock started, he couldn’t wait long if he was to have enough air to carry out the rescue. He switched on the controls for the jetpack; the small control panel on the device’s left arm lit up. Remembering how touchy the joystick was, he decided to hold off grabbing it until he was ready to go. His eyes locked back in on the Soyuz hatch as he nervously watched for it to budge. The theme song from the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey started to play in his mind.

  ANYA KEPT RUBBING her hands back and forth over her pant legs underneath the mission control desk. Though she was pleased that Dmitri had informed her of the mission Peter was on and allowed her to sit in on the top-secret operation, she was still a nervous wreck. Her pulse was beating fast as she listened intently to the broken up radio transmission coming through the control room’s speakers from the stranded Soyuz. It was obvious the spacecraft’s radio antennas were damaged, since the communication link was going in and out, probably caused by the explosion. The tension in the room was at an all-time high as the moment was drawing near for them to open their hatch.

  The commander had radioed he was able to confirm through the Soyuz periscope that the American ship was parked outside. Sergei had been instructed to wait until Peter started to exit before starting to depressurize their cabin. He also was given the sequence the three men would be rescued. All hell broke loose when the tourist found out he wasn’t going first. Dmitri finally took over CAPCOM and insisted that Carlos was to go second and he needed to calm down before he used up the ship’s air supply.

  The radio crackled. “I see as…naut op…ing hatch.”

  Dmitri straightened up. “Copy that, begin depressurization.”

  Sergei calmly answered back. “Roger, depress…ing cab…”

&nb
sp; Anya looked up at the large screen in front of her, her hands squeezing tight. Unfortunately they had no live video feed, the only image displayed was a large world map showing the location of the Soyuz along with a small picture of the cosmonaut who was talking, which at this point was only Sergei. Anya used her imagination to visualize Peter floating outside his spacecraft. She began to feel dizzy as her heart pounded. Her body began to scream for oxygen, but she couldn’t get enough. She put both arms up on the desk and was getting concerned as her hands trembled uncontrollably and tingled. Sweaty, her chest compressed like someone was standing on her, she looked to her brother.

  Dmitri shot her a puzzled look before covering his mic. “Are you okay?”

  She had a sudden urge to flee. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

  Dmitri took off his headset as a concerned look crossed his face. “What’s wrong?”

  She quickly rose to her feet but became light-headed, her heart beating erratically. She grabbed the end of the desk to steady herself as she mumbled, “What’s happening?” She looked to her brother. “I think I need help.” As her brother stood up, she wobbled, her head spinning, before everything went dark.

  GOOSE BUMPS SWELLED all over Peter’s body when the Soyuz hatch started to move, his sign it was time to get to work. He took a deep breath, calming his mind as he quickly brought his arm up and looked at his watch. He did a quick calculation determining how much time he had left. Come on Peter, you can do this.

  A sense of calmness overtook him, unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was almost spiritual, as if he was going into a hypnotic state. He felt like he was a little man inside his head watching this sci-fi movie unfolding in front of him. He looked back at the Soyuz to see one of the cosmonauts swinging the hatch to its full open position. It’s time to rock and roll, baby. Peter took a sharp breath as he flipped his sun visor down. He unhooked his tether line and gently pushed off from Galileo. As he floated precariously next to his ship, he gazed down at the jetpack’s small joystick that seemed to glow, beckoning him to grab hold and play. He fearlessly wrapped his gloved fingers around it. No crashing into spaceships this time, Peter.