Peter was excited for the plugs-out test they were getting ready to perform, a complete dress rehearsal where the rocket would operate on its own power. He took a moment to glance out over the Atlantic Ocean. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the ocean was a magnificent crystal blue, the sun reflecting off the small swells. He took a deep breath, taking in the ocean air and the moment. The sights, sounds, and smells he was experiencing would soon be his last impressions of Earth. He turned back to see the rocket a few feet away, the large letters of the word SpaceQuest slowly passing by as they gained elevation. Even though this was just a dress rehearsal, Peter’s heart was still racing. He imagined in two days for the real thing his excitement and nerves would be even greater. He looked over at Viktor, who appeared extremely calm and relaxed, casually gazing out over the ocean. Peter was happy to have the veteran on board.
The crane’s engines began to slow. Peter turned to see they were approaching the hatch. Soon Omar gave the signal for the crane operator to stop. The roaring of the engines died down as the platform halted, putting them in a slight sway. Peter held on, anxiously moving his knees back and forth while watching the technicians secure the platform and work on opening the hatch. Viktor winked and gave him a reassuring grin.
Eventually Omar had the hatch unlocked and with the help of the technician slowly pried open the door. The cabin was lit up, thanks to the technicians having already powered up the spacecraft a few hours earlier. Omar turned toward the astronauts. “Viktor let’s get you in first.”
Viktor suddenly took a step back. “It’s tradition. Commander enters first.” He motioned to Peter as he moved to the side.
Peter smiled. They had never used the word commander during any of their training. He was honored Viktor acknowledged him as such. “Thanks, Viktor, but I think it should be age before beauty. Besides you’ll have to crawl over me to get to your seat.”
Viktor insisted, “I stay with tradition. It never do me wrong. You first.”
Peter saw Viktor was serious. “Okay, thanks.” He handed his helmet to Omar before being helped in.
ANYA WAS AN EMOTIONAL WRECK as she paced by her seat at the gate in the Moscow airport. She had rushed straight home from Dmitri’s office after learning her father and Peter were going to die, and had thrown together her suitcase in record time before heading to the airport. She arrived before the last flight to Florida was about to leave. It had two stops, getting her into Orlando at noon the next day. That was still eight hours earlier than if she left on the next available flight the following morning, insuring she would get a chance to see both men before they were put in their quarantine quarters. Unfortunately this flight was booked, and she was placed on a standby list. She needed to get on this flight!
She had been patiently waiting in the gate area for the last forty-five minutes, hoping for her name to be called. Over the last ten minutes she had heard the first standby customers called out for available seats, and hoped she would be next. The attendant went to the microphone and stated they would begin pre-boarding the plane. Anya took a seat and started fidgeting with her fingers, wondering if her name was going to be called. Getting impatient, she hopped up and walked straight to the counter. “Excuse me. I was checking to see when my name will be called?”
The attendant, obviously busy, asked, “Your name is?”
“Anya Alexandrov.”
The attendant looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her, searching. “Sorry, you are the third one on the list, and at this point it’s not looking good.”
Anya didn’t know what to do. Tears started to well up in her eyes as she said, “Please. I have to get on that plane. I just learned my father is terminally ill and has less than forty-eight hours to live. I was hoping to get to see him one last time and tell him how much I love him.”
The attendant studied Anya for a moment, as if trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. Finally, after a long pause, the attendant winked and crossed out Anya’s name and moved her to the top of the list. “Don’t tell anyone about this, but hopefully this will help. You will be the next one called.”
Anya said “thank you” through her tears. She stepped back and continued to wait, standing close by the counter, with her bag at her side.
Over the next fifteen minutes boarding continued, and no standby names were read. Finally, all the passengers in the terminal were on the plane and the only ones left were the handful of standby customers. Anya stood alone in front of the group. The attendant informed everyone she was going to go get the final count and excused herself from the counter. Anya started to cry, feeling she was out of luck. She put her head down, closed her eyes, and said a silent prayer. Dear God, please do what you can. I have to see Dad and Peter one last time before you take them from me.
When Anya opened her eyes and lifted her head, standing in front of her was the attendant with a big smile on her face. “Good news. We have one seat left. Bad news, it’s probably the worse seat on the plane—a middle seat way in the back.”
Anya lurched forward, hugging the attendant with a big sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you! God bless you!” The attendant handed her the ticket. Anya grabbed it with a smile. She quickly picked up her bag and raced over to the gate, saying a quick thank you to God for answering her prayer.
PETER AND VIKTOR had been in the Galileo for over four hours going through their checklists and pre-launch procedures for the plugs-out test. A glitch had been discovered in the computer system, and Launch Control had put the simulated countdown on hold while the computer wizards worked on solving the problem. Bud told the guys to sit tight. Both men were strapped in their seats, going nowhere. With the rocket pointed vertically, they were lying on their backs facing skyward. Both men had their helmets on, but had lifted their visors so they could talk.
“Man, I have to pee,” said Peter.
“Go pee,” said Viktor.
“I hate peeing in these damn diapers. Especially since we have no idea how long we’ll be up here. If we’re here long enough, I’ll get diaper rash.”
Viktor laughed and said, “Well, I guess I get diaper rash.”
With his legs forward and gravity pulling him back, there was a lot of pressure on his bladder and it was only a matter of time before he would have to relieve himself. “Launch Control, this is Galileo. Any idea on when you’ll solve the problem?”
“Galileo, we are still working on it. Just relax and enjoy the view.”
“View? What view?” Peter mumbled. The only thing out his window was blue sky, nothing else. Peter looked over to Viktor, who had a big grin on his face.
“Looks like diaper rash on way.”
Peter looked away, wondering if he should give in to the agony. He decided to do it. He relaxed his muscles and let out a sigh of relief, Viktor grinning the whole time.
Both men sat in silence, in their wet diapers. Finally Viktor spoke. “I can’t believe we be at moon in week.”
“I know—it’s pretty amazing to think about. In fact, I was just wondering what Dad was thinking when he was sitting on his rocket waiting to be launched.”
“I’m sure he be excited… and I sure he had wet diaper too.” Viktor chuckled.
Peter smiled at Viktor’s little joke even though he knew his Dad actually used a urine collection bag. “You know it’s kind of ironic that we sit here preparing for a mission where we can prove the thirteenth man already walked on the moon. Dad was always surprised he was one of the last men to venture out on the lunar surface. He was so sure we would have an outpost of some sort on the moon by now. As the years went by and the moon sat undisturbed, he wondered if any man would step on the moon before the last moonwalker died. He was so sure that after we first landed, for the rest of time there would always be a human on Earth who had walked on the moon.”