Reading that caption brought a smile to his face. He rubbed his finger slowly over the writing, wishing he could turn back time, if only for a day. He closed his eyes, holding on to that thought for a moment, his motionless finger resting on the dried ink. He opened his eyes with a sigh before he searched out the other pages he had signed. After reminiscing over each, he turned the pages until he found the next empty space to write his new entry. He pulled a pen from his pocket and gently rolled it between his thumb and finger as he stared at Yuri’s old worn out leather chair, thinking of what to write. After a long moment, he dropped his gaze to the blank area where he placed the tip of the pen and wrote:
I fly as a cosmonaut in honor of a friend and ask for guidance. See you and Maria soon. Viktor Alexandrov.
The door handle clanked. He stiffened up as the door swung open. A tall soldier came marching in. Realizing he still had the pen in his hand, Viktor quickly shoved it into his pocket, hoping he wasn’t seen.
With a puzzled look the soldier asked, “Comrade Alexandrov, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, just looking back at some of my old log entries,” answered Viktor. As the soldier approached, Viktor carefully closed the book, hiding that he had just signed it.
“Sorry sir, but you are not allowed behind the rope.”
Viktor decided to play up his age and began moving like an old man, slowly rising from the table. “I understand, son. I’m just an old man reminiscing about the good ole days. Please forgive me.” He gingerly moved over to the rope and got ready to step over it when the guard abruptly put his hand out. Viktor’s heart stopped as he froze in place, wondering what the guard was up to.
The guard unlatched the rope. “Let me get the rope for you, sir. We don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Viktor let out a sigh of relief before giving a slight bow in appreciation, saying, “Thank you, Comrade,” before slowly walking out the door.
ALLEN SHIFTED IN HIS OFFICE CHAIR, crossing and uncrossing his arms. Peter, having faced the same scrutiny, knew he was trying to size up Viktor, but the old man kept winking, a silly-ass grin plastered on his face. Clearly Allen was beginning to think the old man was a little psycho.
“So, you think you’re up for the challenge of flying to the moon?” Allen asked.
Viktor, sitting next to Peter, perched ramrod straight in his seat. “Yes, sir! I happy to be here, and I do what I can for successful mission.” Viktor still beamed from his tour of the facility. Watching the cosmonaut’s eyes widen as they went station to station was amusing.
Allen stared at the seventy-five-year-old Russian as though he wondered what the hell this bald old man was doing in his office. At least he could be pleased with Viktor’s English. Though he had a strong Russian accent, he was still understandable. Allen said he’d met other Soviet cosmonauts who flew missions in the ’60’s and ’70s and couldn’t understand a word they said. At least there wouldn’t be any problems communicating.
Allen leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, not saying a word, obviously studying Viktor, who squirmed slightly in his seat, that damn smile still across his face. While Allen agreed Viktor was technically competent, he questioned his physical strength. “Viktor, I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Peter. My company has a lot riding on this mission. My responsibility is to get you two to the space station, and to be honest, that’s all I care about. There is a lot you two need to learn and train for in order for that to happen. If I see you are holding us back or not getting the job done, I will shut this whole goddamn thing down in a New York minute. This is not some joyride for you to fulfill some fantasy. I’m not going to waste my company’s time and resources on a project I feel will fail.”
Without missing a beat, Viktor said, “I see concern. I promise I give my all and make mission a success. You not worry about me.”
Peter patted Viktor on the back. “Viktor is the perfect man for this job. I can’t think of any other person I would want as a partner. I guarantee you we will work well as a team and complete whatever training is necessary. If you see either one of us not cutting it, I agree, shut it down.” Peter looked at Viktor before turning back to Allen. “And that won’t happen.”
Allen looked him straight in the eye. “Your words are nice, but I am an action guy. So we’ll see. But just know I’ll be watching closely. Any fuckup and you’re done.”
Peter nodded. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“All right, let’s get down to business,” said Allen as he scanned over a notebook on his desk. “Peter, I got a call this morning from Doug Rose. Apparently China will be announcing in a few days that they will be attempting their first moon landing in November.”
Peter snorted. “What a surprise. China has been telling the world they were over two years away from having the capability of landing. But now with the world convinced America never landed, they miraculously have a lander ready to go.” Peter shook his head in disgust. “They are more than happy to step all over us on their way to the moon, claiming they are the first to land. What a bunch of crap. We all know China has already landed. If they hadn’t, Viktor and I wouldn’t be here right now, willing to sacrifice our lives. At least it’s five months away and we don’t have to worry about them getting in our way. Hopefully if all goes to plan, the world will know China is the second country to land on the moon.”
Viktor responded with assurance, “I plan everything to go to plan. I not lose my life for failure!”
Peter and Allen looked at each other and smiled.
16
TRAINING POOL
Peter felt like the Michelin man as he waddled onto the hoist wearing the 100 lb spacesuit. These suits definitely weren’t designed to be strolling around on Earth. He was excited to finally get the opportunity to work in the NBTL training pool, designed to simulate the weightless environment of space. He and Viktor were to practice attaching the explosive bolts necessary to hold the VASIMR engine onto the back end of the Soyuz they were hijacking. The challenging exercise required them to attach a template showing the bolting pattern up to a mock-up mating flange. They had to drill ten holes in designated spots before carefully inserting the bolts and tightening.
While waiting for Viktor to climb aboard, Peter tilted his head in the helmet to see over the platform into the pool below. He searched for the mock-up flange, finding it and observing the work area. “Piece of cake.”
“I can’t get up,” Viktor said over the radio in a loud voice.
Peter turned around and saw his partner struggling to climb onto the other side of the hoist. Peter wished he could help, but two metal support bars stood between them, to rest their backpacks on, relieving the strain. Trying to be encouraging, Peter radioed, “Come on old man, you can do it.”
Viktor tried lifting his foot, but couldn’t get it high enough. He tried the left foot, then the right. Having already done the climb, Peter understood the difficulty, but hoped Viktor could handle it.
Finally Viktor lifted his hands in defeat and radioed, “I need help.”
Two technicians quickly came to his rescue. Both men propped themselves under Viktor and hoisted him up. Peter shook his head, happy Allen wasn’t there to witness the episode.
Soon both men were strapped on the hoist and ready to be lowered into the pool.
“This is a radio check. Do you read me, Peter?” asked Bernie Lyons.
Peter lifted his head in Bernie’s direction, where the director stood behind a large glass window on the second floor above the pool. Bernie had a bird’s eye view of the exercise as he oversaw the control panel. “Read you loud and clear, Mr. Flight Director,” said Peter into the small microphone, catching Bernie’s eye.