TOM SAW THE LV Engine 5 light go on communicating the center engine had cut off as planned. “Inboard shutdown.”
“Roger, inboard. You’re Go for staging.”
The first stage booster, which was nearly a half a football field long, had been gobbling up over 13 tons of fuel every second, and it was about to run out of gas. In twenty seconds, the four outboard F-1 engines would simultaneously shut down, and the booster’s job would be done. Just before the second stage engines ignited, the first stage would be cut loose to begin its long fall to its watery grave in the Atlantic Ocean. Through this brief moment of no engine power, the rocket would stop accelerating. But this wouldn’t be true for Tom and his crew, whose inertia would fling them forward hard into their safety straps. The feeling would be similar to driving a car into a brick wall at sixty miles an hour.
Tom wanted to prepare his crew. “Staging in ten seconds. Hang on.”
“Okay.”
Tom decided to do a countdown for his mates, “5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” When the remaining engine lights flicked on, the engines cut off as planned, violently hurling the crew forward. “Whoa!” Tom expected his face to smash into his helmet’s faceplate by the violent action. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw both Dusty and Kirk fling out their arms, probably reflexively, thinking they would crash into the control panel.
Dusty laughed. “Man!”
Tom kept his eyes on the control panel. All the engine lights dimmed, indicating they were separating from the first stage booster. “Staging.” Outside the lone window, the fireball that had been spewing out from behind the rocket engulfed their spacecraft, as if they had backed into the raging flame they had created. Almost simultaneously with the engine lights turning back on, Tom and his crew were slammed back hard into their seats as all five second-stage engines fired, propelling them on their way. Tom battled through the initial vibration as he briefly considered the first stage falling away, never to be seen again. Good job, baby!
Tom instantly zipped back into action. “Ignition on the S-Two.”
“Roger, thrust is a GO on all five on the S-Two.”
A dangerous pogo vibration began to develop, which Tom assumed was due to the metal interstage ring still tagging along. The “skirt” had to go. After a few moments, the SII Sep light darkened, confirming the large band had been released. Almost instantly, the pogo action subsided. “Second stage sep.”
“Roger.”
At their current altitude, the escape tower was no longer needed for an abort. Instantly all the windows were uncovered as the tower was jettisoned.
Tom informed Houston, “Tower jettison.”
“Roger, we confirm the skirt sep. You are mode two.”
“Roger, mode two.” This confirmed they were riding on the second stage.
Dusty’s voice reached a hilariously high pitch. “Wow, look at that view!”
Even Kirk showed excitement. “Dang. That is beautiful!”
Tom looked out his window. He was back in that special place, high above the earth. He thought back to when he circled his planet outside the Gemini spacecraft during his EVA. That experience had been a long time ago, in fact, too long. “You two will be amazed at the sights you’ll see from this point on.”
ANNE FELT A tug on her dress.
“Mommy, can we go now?”
Anne had been keeping tabs on the flight as the public announcements kept coming from the grandstand speakers. Even though some folks had been getting up and leaving, she had hoped to stay in the stands until she knew Tom was safely in space. But with the rocket long gone, Peter had been pestering her for something to drink. Remembering there was a concession stand behind the bleachers, she figured she could still hear the updates from there. Plus, she would be able to finally light up a desperately needed cigarette. “How would you like to go with me and get a Coke?”
Peter’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
As they both stood, the vice president spoke to her. “Your husband did a great job. He’s a real patriotic hero.”
Anne turned with a polite smile. “Thank you, sir.”
The vice president looked down at Peter. “So, Son, are you going to be an astronaut like your dad?”
Anne raised her hand before Peter could speak. “One astronaut in this family is more than enough.”
22
ON OUR WAY!
A tinge of jealousy shot through Viktor as he hung up the phone. He turned and placed his hands on the rusted windowsill as he stared out into the dark, Russian night sky.
Maria called out, “Who was that on the phone?”
Viktor turned to his wife, who was over six months pregnant with their second child. “America just successfully launched another rocket to the moon.” He somberly walked over to the dinner table, where his eight-year-old son Dmitri was helping his mother set the table. Viktor spoke in a soft tone. “I met one of those astronauts, Tom Novak.”
Maria carried over a pot of Viktor’s favorite meat stew, tushonka. After placing the dish at the center of the table, Maria looked up with a cocked eyebrow. “Was that the astronaut you met in Geneva when promoting the mission with the United States?”
Viktor took his seat and shrugged in agreement. “Yes.” Viktor knew full well that Maria was unaware of the real reason he had been sent to Switzerland. He reached for the clear bottle of vodka and poured himself a small glass. He swirled the liquid around before downing the shot. “I wish I was on that rocket.”
Maria took a plate of bread from Dmitri, placed it by the stew and said gently, “I know, and I believe strongly that someday you will go to the moon.”
Viktor forced a smile. He loved his wife and appreciated her encouragement and support. But after four successful moon landings, the Americans were too far ahead to chase. NASA would probably have a lunar base set up before the Soviets ever landed. He was convinced his country had given up on the moon. The rumor circulating around the office was that the agency’s focus was setting up space stations in Earth orbit. “I think that dream is long gone.”
Arching an eyebrow, Maria crossed her arms. “Don’t say that. It can happen, and fortunately you were selected to be a part of the U.S. mission, which will show your bosses what you can do.”
Viktor was lucky to still be a part of the joint USSR-U.S.A. flight. After the tragic accident that had killed three cosmonauts earlier that summer, all Soviet-manned missions had been put on hold. Though the rest of the world did not know the specifics of the accident or that future flights had been suspended, Viktor and his comrades were well aware of the deferment.
Because the cosmonauts died from asphyxiation caused by the spacecraft depressurizing, leadership decided to modify the three-man Soyuz to a two-man ship. This would allow enough room for future cosmonauts to wear spacesuits, protecting them from any similar incident. Unfortunately, the redesign meant one of the three cosmonauts on the joint mission with the Americans would have to be cut. As the only rookie on the team, Viktor was convinced he would be the one bumped. But surprisingly, he was spared along with the commander, Yakov Slavsky. Viktor felt working on the U.S. covert operation was the reason he was kept on the prime crew. “I was lucky I wasn’t cut from that mission.”
Maria motioned for Dmitri to take a seat as she walked over to her chair, her voice swelling with pride. “It wasn’t luck. You deserved that seat after all the work you put in over the years.”
Viktor had put in a lot of time supporting the program and had been frustrated at being passed over on crew assignments. But the long wait finally paid off when he was given what he considered to be the best-possible appointment. Of all the missions that hung in the balance after the shutdown of the manned Soyuz program, the joint mission with the U.S. had the best chance of surviving. His country would do everything possible to be ready for that flight, not wanting the Americans to show them up. Viktor poured himself another shot of vodka.