Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Viktor break away from his preparation for the LOI burn and lean over the crowded stowage to watch him input the codes on the laptop. Both knew how important this first step was. Peter started typing in the factory codes Rob had given to him, two sets of twelve-digit numbers he had memorized. His hands shook slightly as he typed.
Viktor said in a calm tone, “Everything okay, take time.”
Peter didn’t answer; the clock had started and he was under the gun. If he was right and the codes were not changed, he had no time to waste. Every minute counted. As he tapped in the last few digits he said, “Here it goes,” and pushed the enter key.
Nothing! Nothing came on his computer screen. If the codes were right, he should be sharing the laser’s local screen and seeing a set of numbers, but the screen was blank.
The laser didn’t recognize the codes.
“Shit!” He was sure he put in the right numbers, but he had no way to confirm this since they disappeared as soon as he pushed the enter key.
Viktor said, “Relax, try again.”
Sweat began pooling around his eyes, blurring his vision. He frantically retyped the numbers from memory before pulling the checklist off the wall to check the numbers. In a quick glance through the sweat, all the numbers looked right. He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. He carefully verified each number one at a time by reading it out loud, “384… 302, looks good,” and then hit the enter key.
Peter nervously tapped his fingers on the computer waiting for a response. Come on baby. A few long seconds later his computer screen went dark before quickly lighting back up, this time sharing the laser’s local screen. “I’ve got access!” Peter gave a big sigh of relief. The Chinese had not changed the codes.
Viktor went back to his business. “Good job.”
Peter quickly typed in the numbers shown on his screen and pushed the enter key before the prompt “Enter Password” appeared. Three precious minutes wasted dealing with that mistake left him roughly seventeen minutes to go through the complicated procedure of reprogramming the computer with a new access code. Once he was done with that he needed to put in a new password before disabling the laser. His best time completing all those tasks during training was seventeen minutes, which he did only once. His average had been eighteen and a half. Come on Peter, you can do this!
Viktor stayed out of sight and silent, allowing Peter to do his thing.
After fifteen minutes of sweating and typing away, Peter finished the involved procedure of changing the access code. “I’m in!” Now that he was in, appearing in the left corner of the screen showed the exact time left before the laser was to fire—2 minutes, 10 seconds, and counting.
He still had to put in the new password and disarm the laser, which on average had taken him four minutes during training.
Viktor poked his head around the stowage, as if checking the time remaining before going back out of sight.
Peter worked at a frenetic pace, his heart racing, but as the time ticked away he was coming to the conclusion he wasn’t going to make it. He saw out of the corner of his eye he had thirty seconds left. “Viktor, I don’t think I am going to make it.”
Viktor didn’t say a word.
Finally with ten seconds left and aware he had run out of time, he stopped typing. “Sorry Viktor, I’m not going to make it.” Peter slammed his fist down on the computer. “Damn it!” Closing the computer he said in a loud voice, “You better brace yourself. It’s going to fire any second.”
Peter had let down so many who were counting on him. He let his father down. With only a few seconds left to live, he quickly touched Anya’s picture and prepared for destruction. Sorry, baby.
Before Viktor could say anything, a sharp bright light filled their spacecraft, briefly blinding Peter. He was sure his life was over. But after a couple of seconds the light dissipated. Shocked, he asked, “Are you okay?”
Viktor answered, “I think am.”
Peter squinted so he could look around, trying to figure out what just happened. Was he dead? He felt his body and arms; nope, still alive. Did some kind of miracle just happen? Shaken, Peter said, “I think it missed!”
Viktor leaned over the equipment, trying to focus on Peter as he said in a calm voice, “Yep. I forgot tell you something.”
Peter tilted his head. “What?”
With a slight grin Viktor said, “Russian intelligence learn the laser only 80 percent accurate on first shot.”
Peter blinked. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I not rely on 20 percent chance live. I want you think we die if not do in time. I think Maria protect us,” Viktor said smugly.
Peter finally allowed himself a chance to grin. “I guess you’re right, that was information I didn’t need to know.”
Viktor sobered. “But it 99 percent accurate on second shot.”
Fortunately the second firing wouldn’t be for twenty minutes since the laser had to rearm itself. “Whew, thank you, Maria!” said Peter as he opened the computer and got back to work. “I only need a few more minutes to finish putting in our password and disarming it. So we’ll be okay. Damn, that was close!”
Viktor grinned. “Yep. I happy I wear diaper.”
“MARIA 1, THIS IS MISSION CONTROL, do you read me?” Dmitri paced by his console. He intently watched the big screen at the front of the control room which showed the location of where Maria 1 should be after coming around the moon, as long as it hadn’t been destroyed. It had been forty-five minutes since Dmitri last talked to Peter prior to them going around the back side and as the screen portrayed, Maria 1 should be back around in position to receive his transmissions. Unfortunately, he had not heard anything back and he was getting worried they might have been killed. The tension was high in the control room as Dmitri continued sending out radio transmissions, but the only thing everyone heard in return was static.
“Maria 1, this is Mission Control, do you read me?” He looked back at Anya sitting at the back of the room and they locked eyes for a split second; she seemed to give him a look of hope, which encouraged him. Turning back and hopeful of hearing something positive he called out to the designated flight dynamics officer two rows in front of him. “FIDO, have you located their position yet?”
“Negative,” said FIDO.
Frustrated, Dmitri continued calling Maria 1.
Finally, a garbled transmission came through his headset. “Miss… this… one.”
A loud cheer rung out as Dmitri radioed back, “Maria 1, this is Mission Control, please repeat.”
This time the transmission came through much clearer. “Mission Control, this is Maria 1. We’re okay, over,” said Peter.
Loud applause filled the control room. For the first time in history, a manned Soviet spacecraft was circling the moon. Over the noise, Dmitri answered, “Roger, that’s great news.”
“How’s our position look, over?” asked Peter.
Understanding his dad and Peter were concerned about how well they handled the burn, Dmitri looked at FIDO, who gave him a thumbs-up. “Looks good at this point. Good job, over,” said Dmitri.
“Roger,” said Peter.
Dmitri asked, “Was the laser on the back side, over?”
“That’s an affirmative,” answered Peter.
“Roger. Did you disarm it?” Dmitri wanted to make sure that hazard was out of the way.
“Roger, laser is disarmed. However, it did give us a little tan on the backside, over,” said Peter.
“Repeat?” asked Dmitri