Paul Gillebaard

SPACE HOAX

A SEQUEL TO MOON HOAX

TO MOM

(THANKS FOR NEVER GIVING UP ON ME)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to Ed Gibson (NASA astronaut) and Jim Banke (veteran aerospace writer) for doing a final technical read. Thanks to my editor, Kelly Lynne, for once again doing her magic. Thanks to John Vester who went above and beyond as a proofreader/editor, giving some fabulous suggestions for the book. Thanks to Francis French (accomplished space author) for doing a great edit. Thanks to my proofreaders, Dr. Marjus Lenger, Cindy Cowlin, Ted Gillebaard, and Penny Shays. Finally, thanks once again to my wife Anne, for supporting me through the whole writing process and not laughing at my first drafts.

1

TO THE EARTH

Peter Novak sat comfortably in a beach chair on a sandy white beach of a beautiful, secluded tropical island. The hot sun beat down on him as he dug his feet deep into the warm sand, wiggling his toes. A smile crossed his face. He inhaled the salty ocean breeze as he watched his beautiful baby daughter playing in the sand near his buried feet. Seeing the joy on her cute little face reminded him of how lucky he was to be sitting here, blessed to be part of her life. A soft squeeze of his hand prompted him to turn and gaze into Anya’s crystal-blue eyes. The love of his life sat in a chair next to him, giving him a proud nod. She looked stunning in her sexy red bikini as her gorgeous, black hair fluttered in the breeze. Though it couldn’t get any better than this, something still gnawed in his gut, like he was missing something.

Anya let go of his hand before leaning forward to give their daughter a small plastic toy shovel. Watching his daughter’s tiny fingers reaching for the orange plaything set Peter’s mind off racing to the moment his life depended on him reaching a thin metal antenna rod in space. It seemed like only yesterday that he was floating precariously alone in his spacesuit above the silent, barren moon. Without a jet-pack or a tether line to guide him, he was at the mercy of the vector he had pushed off in. His target was a Shenzhou spacecraft there to rescue him, which baffled Peter since it was the same ship that had tried to kill him. When he leaped toward the Chinese spacecraft, his foot slipped, causing his aim to be off. There was no way of correcting the mistake; his course was set. His last ray of hope as he drifted over the moon was the shiny four-foot antenna sticking off the Shenzhou spacecraft. Grab it and be saved, miss it, and die.

Peter studied the waves crashing on the shoreline. The tumbling motion churned up his irritation about what had sent him to the moon in the first place. China had made a shocking claim that America never put a man on the moon, that the films were all faked in a movie studio. Conspiracy theorists had been spouting the idea since 1969. China’s “evidence,” backing their claim, was convincing—rocks they’d scooped up on a covert mission to the moon’s back side. If China then openly landed their taikonauts on the moon, history would be rewritten. America’s heroic moonwalkers and space program would be disgraced. The only way to expose China was to send an astronaut to the moon, a feat that hadn’t been done by the United States in over forty years, to take detailed pictures of the Apollo landing sites. The LEM’s descent stage, lunar rover, footprints, the American flag—all the detritus the landings had left on Earth’s only satellite, 239,000 miles away.

America had figured out how to get their man to the moon, but with only one booster engine; there was no way back. After successfully transmitting detailed pictures of the landing sites back to Earth, the astronaut would float in lunar orbit until his air ran out.

Peter was part of SID, the Space Intelligence Division of the CIA. As one of their top agents, previously trained by NASA, he was offered the suicide mission. Peter struggled with the decision of accepting the task. He loved life and had no plans of cutting it short. But his father’s legacy balanced on the outcome of the operation. Tom Novak was one of only twelve men to have walked on the lunar surface. Witnessing his dad’s sudden death, his heart attack prompted by China’s lies, was enough to fuel Peter to accept the deadly assignment and set the record straight. China chased him there in their Shenzhou spacecraft, but they were too late—he’d already relayed the photos home.

A nudge broke Peter’s concentration. Anya was offering him a cold bottle of beer. He happily grabbed the opened brew before leaning back in his chair, taking a big swig. Though the voyage to the moon had had its share of surprises, the biggest was learning that Anya was pregnant with his child. The unexpected news caused Peter to regret his decision to accept the dead-end trip. Watching his daughter having fun in the sand, Peter did an imaginary toast in her direction. Thank God I grabbed that antenna and saved my ass.

Suddenly, an angry man on a towel next to him began yelling into his cell phone in Chinese. It was as if the man had come out of nowhere. The beach was practically empty. Why the hell did this guy have to sit right next to us? Anya reached for Peter’s hand and squeezed, signaling him to let it go. But Peter couldn’t take the disruption anymore and let go of her hand. Before he could confront the man, a white Frisbee conked him squarely on the head. He reached for his forehead and rubbed it, then lowered his head, momentarily closing his eyes. As he slowly straightened up and reopened his eyes, everything changed.

Peter was no longer on a beautiful beach, but strapped in a sleeping bag on the wall in the small confines of the Shenzhou spacecraft. The rough stubble on his face confirmed he had been dreaming. He was still in the Chinese spacecraft headed for Earth. Damn. He slowly woke and focused on his tight surroundings as he heard the commander, Tang Liwei, yelling in Chinese. He turned his head and rubbed his eyes as he looked through the small hatch into the connecting Descent Module where the two taikonauts sat. Tang, sitting in the center seat, stopped yelling and yanked off his snoopy cap in disgust.

“What was all that about?” Peter groggily asked as he stretched out his arms, still amazed at how real his dream had seemed.

“Sie Wang be arrested. He gave false orders to save you. They not okay by CNSA.” For the first time Peter saw anger in Tang’s eyes as he spoke in his accented English. Peter had assumed CNSA, China’s space agency, saved him as a goodwill gesture after being caught lying to the world. Apparently acting alone, Sie Wang, their manager of space operations, had changed everything.

Having dealt with CNSA while working undercover for SID, Peter had met Tang a few times. Peter knew the Chinese man was dedicated to his country. He was a strong military man who sternly followed orders. Tang was clearly troubled as he stared right past Peter, in deep thought. What is he going to do? Peter didn’t know what to say. Nei Zango, sitting in the pilot’s seat next to Tang, stayed quiet. Finally Peter broke the awkward silence, “Does that mean you have to drop me off at the nearest gas station?”

Tang didn’t smile. He put his hand to his cheek and caressed it before his dark brown eyes locked onto Peter’s. “You now be prisoner of China. When we land, you be taken to Jiuquan and question. Then be pass to military.”

Peter automatically looked at the gun stowed next to the commander’s seat. Its triple barrel design indicated it was similar to Russia’s survival pistol, capable of firing flares, shotgun shells, or rifle bullets. Tang caught Peter’s look and put his hand on the gun, assuring its strap was secure before lightly patting it.

Although Peter was in high spirits to be returning to Earth, no way was he going to be taken prisoner. He had come too far to be denied being with Anya. He wanted to hold her, love her. He wanted to rub her pregnant tummy. Right away, his mind started racing as he tried to figure out how he was going to get out of this mess. He had to give Tang the assurance he was going to cooperate. “I’m sorry Sie Wang went against CNSA orders. I understand what you have to do. I am just glad you saved my ass and I will get back to Earth. I figure it will only be a matter of time before our two governments work things out and I am returned to the U.S.”

Tang lifted his hand off the gun as a grim smile appeared on his face. He nodded slightly.

ANYA ALEXANDROV RUBBED her hands nervously together under the desk as she stared at the large screen in front of the FKA control room. The Russian Federal Space Agency handled all Russian space flights, but had no control over Chinese flights. The screen showed an estimated location of where Peter should be, but since Russia had no communication with CNSA, they had to rely on their satellites and radar. Peter’s location indicated they were in orbit and should be falling to Earth at any moment.

Anya had gotten little sleep over the last three days since learning Peter was returning home. She was too excited. She couldn’t wait to hold him again, something she was so sure a week ago would never happen.

With her jaw clenched, she whispered to her brother sitting next to her, “Shouldn’t they have started re-entry by now?”

Dmitri was working through calculations on his desk and did not answer. He abruptly stopped and put his hand flat on the table before turning to her. He drew a sharp breath. “I would have thought so. I’m a little concerned that they haven’t.”

As the Assistant Director of FKA, her brother would have a good idea of what Peter’s chances were. She chewed on her bottom lip before asking, “Should I be worried?”

He reached over and put a firm hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure everything will be fine. Maybe CNSA’s procedures for entering the atmosphere are different than ours.” Dmitri pulled his hand away and picked up his phone to make a call.

She wasn’t convinced. She looked up at the screen, fixated on the small blinking red dot representing Peter’s location. She brought her hand to her chest and began to rub her half of the pendant hanging from her neck that read “Soul.” Come on, Peter. Come back to me.

A BEAD OF cold sweat materialized on Peter’s forehead as he floated under the straps in his seat. He had observed Tang struggling during the last two orbits trying to enter their trajectory into the onboard computer for re-entry. Peter assumed if Tang was unable to program the computer, the commander would have to handle the descent manually, which would be tricky. Both Tang and Nei had been frantically speaking with CNSA to work out the problem. Since they spoke in Chinese, Peter understood very little, and all he could do was sit and watch, frustrated.

Both taikonauts sat to the right of Peter and wore their anti-g flight suits, helmets on, visors shut. Unfortunately, there was no flight suit for Peter since he had not been expected to be returning with them. Instead, he wore a pair of borrowed coveralls from Tang and no helmet, only a headset so he could hear and talk to the two taikonauts. Peter could not wear his EMU spacesuit he entered the capsule with since its torso section was too rigid, and he would be unable to sit in his seat. Instead, the spacesuit was left in the Orbital Module to be burned upon re-entry when separated from the Descent Module.

If the descent went according to plan, Peter would be subjected to 5 g as they entered the atmosphere. After over a week of weightlessness, 5 g would feel like 15 g. Having no anti-g suit, he expected to experience serious discomfort but was convinced he could handle it. If Tang was unable to control the re-entry manually, or if they experienced further problems, they could enter the atmosphere in the more severe ballistic mode, spinning like a bullet and reaching 9 g. Such forces could be lethal if sustained over a long period.

Tang methodically started pushing buttons with gloved fingers, and even though the buttons were all labeled in Chinese, trained astronaut Peter knew the taikonaut was preparing the spacecraft for a manual descent. Though the Shenzhou spacecraft’s basic design was similar to the Soyuz, its control panel was much more high tech, even having two high-resolution LCD screens capable of showing complex graphics. Peter had been impressed with the detailed maps the commander scanned through earlier in the orbit.

Tang continued to work the controls, and soon the spacecraft began to roll slowly on its axis. Feeling like a stowaway, Peter folded his arms and looked out the small porthole on his side. Italy started to come into view, confirming they were in the right orbit to land in Inner Mongolia where most Chinese flights landed. He looked back at the LCD that had a map showing their location, and sure enough, they were above Italy. Looking back out the porthole, Peter still hadn’t figured out how he was going to escape once they landed. He figured when their hatch was opened, the spacecraft would be surrounded by Chinese soldiers. Then there was still the gun by Tang’s side. He wasn’t sure where the ammunition was or certain he would know how to operate the firearm. Possibly his best chance to escape would be during the transit to Jiuquan. He stiffened up knowing he first had to survive the landing.

Tang called out in English, “Engines fire in 30 seconds.”

Curious of their location, Peter glanced over at the LCD screen. Tang no longer had the map showing their location but instead one that had a small, red, outlined circle in northern China which Peter assumed was going to be their landing zone. He put his hand underneath his collar and searched for the pendant hanging around his neck given to him by Anya. Finding it nuzzled next to his dad’s locket, he gently rubbed his finger over the single word, “Mate.” That piece of jewelry symbolized their relationship. Her pendent was half of a charm, which read, “Soul.” He had the other half that read, “Mate.” The trinkets were bought by Anya when she visited him during training. When she proudly presented his pendent as a gift, she said she loved him for the first time. He whispered with determination, “Baby, I’ll make it home.” Peter double-checked his seatbelt strap before pushing his body back tightly into his seat; this was going to be a rough ride home.

PRESIDENT BILL EDWARDS stormed through the side door into the Oval Office. The head of NASA, Doug Rose, was already sitting patiently in a patent leather chair across from the President’s desk. Bill had requested that the NASA man learn what was happening with the CIA agent he had sent on a suicide mission to the moon. He gave a casual wave before strutting quickly around his desk and taking a seat.

The President wasted no time and got right to the point. “What’s the latest with Peter?”

Doug looked the President straight in his eyes. “Sir, he’s in orbit, but we think there might be a problem. For some reason they haven’t entered the atmosphere.”

The President leaned back in his chair. “Any ideas why not?”

Doug slowly put his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed. “We’re not sure. It could be almost anything; an equipment failure, a computer issue. But there is definitely something wrong. There is no reason to stay in orbit.”

The President turned and looked out the window. He would hate for the patriotic hero to die so close to earth after traveling hundreds of thousands of miles and successfully pulling off the mission. “Is there anything we can do?”

Doug shook his head. “I doubt it. Ever since CNSA cut off communication after rescuing Peter, we have been kept in the dark on the status of the flight. We need to know what the problem is and how long they can stay in orbit before we can figure out how we can help.”

“What could we do?”

“We could possibly send over a Soyuz from the space station and shuttle them back to the ISS, but…”

Bill registered the troubled look on Doug’s face. “But what?”

“The Soyuz has only three seats. So there would need to be a couple trips to save all three men. The logistics could probably be worked out, but the problem is Peter probably doesn’t have a spacesuit.”

The President tilted his head. “Why?”

“The EMU suit he wore when he entered is too big and rigid to fit in the Descent Module, and I doubt the Chinese have a suit on board that would fit a six foot one inch tall man.”

The President leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. He appeared confused. “How did he get into the spacecraft in the first place?”

“Sir, remember the Shenzhou spacecraft is similar to the Soyuz, which has three different modules. Peter entered the bigger Orbital Module from space, which acted as an airlock. In order to get into the Descent Module, he had to remove his EMU suit. Before they enter the atmosphere in the Descent Module, they separate from the other two modules.” Doug put his head down. “If they have already separated from the Orbital Module, there would be no way of saving Peter. He would die when the hatch was opened.” Doug slumped deeper in his chair as his eyes grew wider.

“What is it?”

The NASA Administrator shook his head. “Sir, this problem they are having may require their spacecraft to enter the atmosphere ballistic.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s a very dangerous way to return to Earth. They will have no control of their spacecraft and will reach up to 9 g. This is tough on the body when wearing an anti-g spacesuit, and possibly fatal without one.”

A flash of disappointment swelled through the President. “Damn.” His voice grew in strength. “We need to re-establish communication with the Chinese. That hero cannot die.”

2

HANG ON

Something was terribly wrong. Peter’s heart was practically pounding out of his chest as a sickening feeling started to rush through him. The Shenzhou spacecraft was entering the atmosphere in the upside down position. Instead of feeling the powerful g-forces pushing him into his seat, he instead was being pulled, hanging helplessly by his restraining straps. The heat shield, needed to protect them from the fiery re-entry, was on the wrong side. As their capsule aerobraked in the upper atmosphere, the nose of the spacecraft was taking the brunt of the entry. If they continued entering in this incorrect position, it would only be a matter of minutes before the light metal hatch up front would burn, giving way and killing them all.

Tang struggled against all the jostling and g-forces trying to remedy the situation. Unfortunately, they were in a radio blackout, so no help was coming from CNSA. Due to the aerodynamic design of the Descent Module, it naturally wanted to fall with the heat shield forward; therefore, something was preventing it from rotating. Peter concluded one of the other two modules must not have separated when their explosive bolts fired. He was sure it was the Service Module since they were upside down.

Peter yelled out, “The Service Module must still be attached.”

“I understand. Nothing I can stop,” called out Tang, matter-of-factly.

Shit, that wasn’t what Peter wanted to hear. He looked straight ahead at the hatch in front of them as smoke started to seep in. If this thing doesn’t flip soon, we’re dead. The hatch couldn’t handle much more. He hated not having any control over the situation. He couldn’t die like this, not now. He looked out his porthole window to see a fiery display. As he studied the fire show, burning chunks occasionally passed by, which he was sure were parts of the Service Module. Come on baby, burn. Since they were free falling and had no control over the craft, their only chance of survival was for the Service Module to break free by the frictional forces. This would allow their craft to flip to its naturally designed orientation for re-entry, protecting them from the dangerous heat buildup.

Sweat was starting to drip profusely off Peter’s face, a sign they were entering the atmosphere. The temperature in the small cabin was reaching well over 100 F.

Suddenly, a woman’s voice blared through the cabin speakers, speaking in Chinese. Knowing it wasn’t CNSA, he assumed it was some kind of warning, possibly a voice synthesizer integrated into the spacecraft’s precautionary panels informing them of a problem. Peter forced a smirk. No shit, Sherlock.

Tang reached over with his gloved hand and aggressively flipped a switch, cutting her off in mid-sentence.

Peter peeked at the instrument panel; they were approaching 4 g. His eyeballs began bulging out of his head as the straps cut into his skin, the coveralls offering little protection. Damn, this hurts.

The spacecraft began to violently shudder back and forth as Peter held on for dear life. With a sudden loud bang, the capsule vigorously swung 180 degrees on its axis. The vicious centrifugal force slammed him into his seat, like some wild amusement ride. The force once pulling him was now smashing him into his seat as the craft now aerobraked in the correct position, leading with the heat shield.

Tang grunted, “Module free, go ballistic.”

The immediate sigh of relief Peter experienced with the decent module breaking free and still being in one piece was quickly displaced by the need to go into survival mode. Though happy he wasn’t going to burn to death, he now had to worry about surviving a ballistic return, the treacherous re-entry he didn’t want. They were falling out of control in a steep dive that would subject him to 9 g. The spacecraft began to slowly spin like a bullet. He was struggling to breath. It felt like an elephant was sitting on him. Unfortunately, his seat was not form fitted to his body so certain pressure points were digging into him; he simply had to bear the excruciating pain. He glanced at the g-force monitor and saw they were approaching 6 g. Shit, I have to handle three more of these!

Peter used all of his strength to push out his abdominal muscles to help with his labored breathing. He was having a hard time swallowing and willed his body to stop. His vision was beginning to blur. Come on, Peter, you can do this. Stay focused! The force on his body kept increasing, and every little shake of the spacecraft hurt. He felt himself starting to black out. He continued to flex his muscles throughout his body to fight off the pressure, forcing himself to stay conscious. From the grunts he heard in his headset, Tang and Nei were struggling too, but at least they had anti-g suits. Nobody moved or said a word.

KUANG PIN PACED nervously back and forth, rubbing his sweaty hands together in the Control Room of the China National Space Administration. As Director of CNSA, he knew he would be held responsible for failing to beat the Americans back to the moon, allowing the United States to expose China’s lies and humiliate his country in front of the world. His only possible hope for saving face was to take prisoner the American astronaut who had carried out the mission and question him.

Kuang stopped pacing and turned to the flight director. With a sense of anxiety creeping through his voice, he asked, “When should they emerge from the blackout?”

The young man covered the microphone of his headset before turning around to make eye contact with the director. “Radio transmission should be re-established in eight minutes, sir.”

Kuang raised his bushy eyebrows. “Do we have an accurate assessment of their landing zone?”

Without blinking, the flight director answered, “Within a twenty-five mile radius, sir, as long as no problems occur during blackout.”

“Good. I want the American taken prisoner and brought to Jiuquan as soon as they land.”

In a respectful tone the flight director calmly answered, “Yes, sir, these orders are already in place. We have Mi-17 army helicopters dispatched within the landing zone ready and waiting.”

Kuang grunted and resumed pacing.

PETER’S EYES ABRUPTLY popped open as he was violently stirred awake. He was momentarily confused of his whereabouts as he stared glassy-eyed. He took a second to assess his situation, realizing he must have blacked out during re-entry. As he cleared his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead, sunshine filled the cabin. Tang was barking coordinates over the radio. The high g-forces had subsided. Peter slowly lifted his head and felt around his body; everything seemed fine and in place. He took a glimpse outside and saw blue skies. By the way the spacecraft was lightly swaying, they were hanging from the main parachute. Either the snatch of the chute or the release of the heat shield must have jarred him awake. A big grin slowly etched upon his face. He made it. He had survived.

Peter shook his head to get his bearings before peering over at the display in front of Tang. It was time to figure out how he was going to escape. He saw a map that looked to have their landing zone, but the little red outline circle was no longer in Northern China; it was now just outside of Kyrgyzstan in Western China. His silly ass grin was replaced by a sly smile. They were going to land well short of their target area due to the problem separating from the Service Module. That meant there would be no waiting party or militia close by. Good news. Plus, Peter knew of a U.S. air base in Kyrgyzstan. This might be his only opportunity to escape. He studied the map to get an idea of the terrain and direction he would need to head. A river ran through the center of the circle toward Kyrgyzstan. Tang turned to see Peter peering at the map and quickly switched the screen.

“You okay?” asked the commander.

Assuming they were on a hot mic, Peter answered, “Wow, what a ride. I’m just happy to have survived. Good job, Captain.”

While Tang went back to communicating with CNSA in Chinese, Peter started to think about his plan. If he was going to run, he had to make certain Tang did not have the gun. He would also need a compass and other survival items. He peered down at Tang’s survival kit strapped to the side of his seat by the gun. Though he wasn’t sure what was in it, Peter knew it had items that could help him stay alive in the wilderness. Perfect. Somehow, he would need to snatch that too.

Since their coordinates were certainly passed onto CNSA, and a rescue beacon was probably transmitting a signal, Peter was positive the militia were already on their way. Since they were far off course, he guessed the first rescue team wouldn’t arrive until twenty to forty-five minutes after they landed. Not a lot of time, but possibly enough to escape.

Tang lifted his visor, his eyes wide with concern. “On course for land in Aksu River.”

Peter’s eyebrows vaulted as he looked out his window to see they were drifting in the same direction as the wide river below. Peter clasped his gloved hands together. Though landing in water could be dangerous, it might give him a better chance to escape, especially since he wasn’t wearing a bulky space suit.

Tang sounded tense as he resumed communicating with CNSA, both he and Nei preparing for the landing.

Peter continued to stare out the window trying to determine his best escape route going west. As he studied the landscape, he concluded they were dead on target to land smack in the middle of the river. Damn, we are going to land in that thing. They were probably 200 feet up. He swallowed hard when a massive waterfall came into view, downstream of where they appeared to be landing. Peter turned to Tang. “I think we might have another problem. Looks like there is a large waterfall downstream.”

Tang zoomed in on his display and there it was. A frantic look crossed his face before he turned to Nei and spoke in rapid-fire Chinese.

Peter wasn’t sure what Tang said, but since he pointed to the override switch for the landing retrorockets, he assumed they were discussing operating them early to help miss the river. There was not enough fuel in those rockets for two operations. If Tang fired them to miss the river, they would be unavailable to soften the blow of the landing.

Nei seemed to concur with Tang’s suggestion. Tang aggressively leaned over Peter to look out the window. Tang sat back in his seat and studied the display. He shook his head before he started pushing buttons, which Peter assumed was to override the computer.

Tang called out, “Hold on.”

Peter grabbed his seat as the rockets fired underneath him. He watched out his window as they seemed to level off but kept drifting, the rockets fired for only a few seconds. Tang was obviously trying to overshoot the river. What was Peter rooting for? For them to miss the river and have a hard landing on the ground where he would have a tougher time escaping, or land in the water with the possibility of going over the dangerous waterfall. He decided to root for the water.

Tang pushed Peter to the side as he peered out the window to see if he was successful in altering their course. A deep groan vibrated through his body before he slumped back in his seat. Peter looked out. They were still going to land in the water, but now they were going to be even closer to the falls.

Tang turned to Nei as he anxiously spoke in Chinese. Nei pulled out an emergency kit and two tightly wrapped plastic items, handing one to Tang.

Tang looked at Peter. “We not have time get out of spacesuit.”

From the tube sticking out, Peter could tell the items were probably flotation devices, which both taikonauts would need to prevent them from sinking. Peter would be fine in the coveralls.

Tang barked out, “Fifty seconds ‘til impact. We be fast out. Order be me, Peter, Nei. No retrorockets, it be hard hit.”

Tang continued to call out instructions, but now in Chinese. Peter checked his restraint straps to confirm they were secure. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter watched Tang and Nei scramble to get ready, making sure Tang didn’t reach for the gun.

“Ten seconds to impact.”

Peter put his head back and braced himself. Without the retrorockets, he was glad they were landing in water. The cabin was dead silent the last few seconds before the capsule slammed hard into the water with a violent crash that echoed off the walls. Peter held on as his body was smashed deeper into his seat. Even though the parachutes had been fully deployed, it still felt like the capsule had been dropped from a ten-story building. While the water cushioned the crash, it was still a strong hit, like slapping his flat hand as hard as he could on the surface of the water in a swimming pool. Peter peeked to see the porthole completely covered over with water as the spacecraft quickly submerged. Don’t sink, baby. He heard a muffled bang before feeling a jolt, which he was sure were the spacecraft’s automatic floatation bags being deployed. After a few seconds, the pressure pushing him down subsided, and the craft began to float to the surface. The water dissipated from the window as faint splashing sounds entered the spacecraft. Fortunately, the ship was in an upright position as it slowly bobbed in the water.

Out the porthole, white rapids churned about one hundred yards downstream, probably just prior to the falls. “We better get the hell out of here.”

Tang was already ahead of Peter. Each man quickly unhooked his straps. Peter took off his headset as he watched the taikonauts remove their helmets and snoopy caps.

Since they were now lying on their backs, Tang shifted his butt up the seat back so he was in an upright position. He reached above him and started to undo the hatch. Peter kept a close eye on the gun.

Soon Tang swung open the hatch inward and a sudden splash of water surprised them all. Peter wiped the water off his face as Tang slowly worked his way up until he stood on the seat back. Tang straightened up so his upper body protruded out the opening. After a short moment, he poked his head back in, wide-eyed. “We not have much time.” He quickly said something in Chinese to Nei as he pointed to his seat before working his way out.

Peter’s heart began to race as Nei leaned over Tang’s seat. He was convinced he was going for the gun. He instantly went into attack mode, feeling he had no choice but to jump the smaller man. No way would he let these men take him prisoner. He turned and opened his hands, ready to pounce. Nei smiled at Peter as he reached slowly across the seat in the direction of the gun. Peter’s eyes stayed glued as the taikonaut blindly felt around along the side of the bench. When he stopped at the gun, Peter held his breath. Don’t release it, you son-of- a-bitch. Nei’s hand fumbled around over the gun for a second before moving over to the survival bag. Peter let out a big sigh of relief when Nei started unhooking the bag. As he handed the bag up to Tang, Peter relaxed his muscles.

Tang sat on the lip of the capsule, his legs dangling inside. He started blowing up his floatation bag. Peter started getting ready to go next. Tang positioned the bag under his arms. “Peter, you next.” Tang’s feet quickly disappeared out the hatch as he fell back into the water with a loud splash.

Peter started to sit up in his seat but found moving in gravity was tough. He used his arms to help climb up so he was crouching in his seat. He felt like an old man. Before popping his head out, he peeked over at Nei, making sure he wasn’t making any movement toward the gun. He seemed oblivious to it.

Peter turned and stuck his head into the brisk air before he was immediately hit with a splash of river water. A big smile crossed his lips as warm sunrays penetrated the droplets on his face. He took in a deep breath of the fresh air, happy to be home. Instantly he thought of Anya, certain he would see her again.

A trail of yellow dye came from under the orange flotation bags that surrounded the ship, its purpose to help rescuers spot them. He turned to see Tang struggling in the water.

Peter called out, “You okay?”

Tang looked to be trying to swim, but wasn’t having any luck. “Not worry for me; you and Nei get out.”

Peter positioned himself so he was sitting on the lip, his legs in the capsule. He needed to fall backward instead of jumping off, ensuring the module did not rock and fill with water. He took a deep breath before falling backward. The shock of the freezing water was his rude welcome to Earth. He quickly surfaced and swam over to Tang, who was still wrestling with the river.

“My suit pull me down. I not outswim current.”

If Tang couldn’t get to the shoreline soon, he would go over the falls, possibly killing him. “Grab my waist,” ordered Peter.

The floatation bags were preventing Tang from leaning forward, so he reached from behind and blindly found a belt loop on Peter’s coveralls.

“Hold on.” Peter started swimming as hard as he could to the closest shoreline. He’d been a competitive swimmer as a kid, but he was fighting to pull Tang, whose spacesuit was filling with water. Each stroke crashed through the mighty river as he slowly made progress. He turned back to see Nei on top of the bobbing capsule, apparently trying to seal the hatch. He resumed swimming until his feet eventually were able to touch bottom. He turned and grabbed Tang’s collar, tiredly pulling him up onto the shore.

Exhausted, Tang looked into Peter’s eyes. “Xie xie.”

Peter winked. “I couldn’t leave a fellow taikonaut to die.”

Tang smiled.

Peter looked back and saw that Nei was now in the water struggling, drifting rapidly toward the falls.

“I’ve got to save Nei.” After being in microgravity for over a week, standing was a challenge. He powered through the earth’s pull as he scrambled along the narrow riverbank in his wet clothes. Once he was a few yards past Nei, he turned and dove back into the chilly river. The current was stronger as he swam through the rapids. The capsule was about twenty feet in front of Nei, bouncing off rocks. Once he reached Nei, he called out, “Grab onto my waist.”

Peter saw the brink of the waterfall quickly approaching. With Nei holding on, Peter started swimming with all of his might with whatever energy he had left. After swimming for some seconds that felt like minutes, he lifted his face out of water to catch his breath and saw the capsule slowly tilting over the falls before disappearing. A shot of adrenaline raced through his body realizing they could be next. He muscled through the remaining fifteen feet before dragging Nei ashore. Peter collapsed in exhaustion.

Remnants of the yellow dye started washing up by his feet, reminding him Chinese soldiers were on their way. No matter how tired he was, he had to get out of there. Fortunately, he would be going in the opposite direction from Tang. As Peter struggled to his feet and turned to leave, Tang yelled out something in Chinese. All of a sudden Nei grabbed his arm. Peter swung around with a determined look, ready to yank his arm free. Surprisingly the taikonaut wore a friendly smile as he reached over with his other hand and unhooked his survival bag, handing it to Peter.

Relieved, Peter grabbed it and thanked the man in Chinese. “Xie xie ni.” He turned to Tang and waved. The proud taikonaut slowly rose and did a staunch salute.

Peter smiled, giving Tang a snap salute in return before rushing into the woods.

3

THE LIE

Kuang leaned back in his chair, defeated. He dug his fingers deep into his thick, silver hair. His last hope for changing the outcome of the failed mission to the moon was capturing the astronaut who had exposed their lies. His hope was to imprison the American long enough to force a false confession and confiscate any device that may have recorded pictures from the moon. He had just learned that the American had regrettably escaped after the Shenzhou spacecraft landed. Though CNSA and the military were combing the landing area searching for the astronaut, Kuang still had an uneasy feeling.

The director looked over at a black and white picture of his parents hanging on the wall. He narrowed his eyes on his strict father, a stern military officer who never accepted failure. Kuang reflected back to the day when as a young boy he ran home to proudly show off his fifth place award from a wushu martial arts competition. The match he lost was to one of the local boys from his village. He was disheartened when his father, in disgust, tossed his prize into the trash. His father slapped Kuang hard across the face, stating that his performance was unacceptable and had shamed the family. Kuang was sent to his room without supper. Before closing and locking the door, his father said harshly, “Always show honor to the family.” Kuang cried all night, disappointed in himself. He made a vow to never fail again.

A knock interrupted Kuang’s train of thought. “Come in.”

In walked Ming Sung. “Hello, sir.”

“Any news on the American?”

The assistant director took a seat across from his boss. “No, sir.”

Kuang looked away in anger.

“Sir, I am sure we’ll catch him. It would be almost impossible for him to flee China.”

“Almost?” Kuang snapped. Almost is not good enough. I want every available man searching. We must find him.”

“Yes, sir.” Ming looked to the floor as he rubbed his hand leisurely along the leather armrest of his chair. He gradually lifted his head as he raised an eyebrow in Kuang’s direction. “Sir, what do we tell the American government?”

Kuang tightened his fist remembering how Sie went behind his back and informed the Americans their astronaut had been rescued. They needed answers. He sat for awhile before gradually rising and walking over to the window. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. He stared out the window for a second before wheeling around on the balls of his feet with a determined look. “Say he died. State a problem occurred during re-entry, which led to the spacecraft entering ballistic. State a fire broke out in the cabin and without a spacesuit he was unable to be saved. Explain there were no remains.”

Ming stood to attention. “Yes, sir. I will have this communicated immediately.”

Kuang sternly walked back to his chair. “I want this man caught, dead or alive. Our jobs depend on it.”

Ming bowed slightly before leaving the room.

PETER WIPED THE sweat off his forehead as the forty-six year old trudged across an open field toward a wooded area. Though he was tired, his senses were on full alert as he crossed the barren landscape. He hated being out in the open where he could be spotted, but he had no choice. He needed to go west, and this was the most direct route.

For the last twenty minutes he had heard helicopters flying in the distance, which unquestionably were the Chinese militia looking for him. He needed to get to the border of Kyrgyzstan as soon as possible, and from his memory of the map on the spacecraft’s display, he estimated he had around thirty miles to go. Suddenly something appeared in the distant sky in front of him. He put his hand to his forehead to block out the sun’s glare as he squinted. His heart sank when he realized it was a helicopter coming right toward him, probably a half a mile away. Shit. He quickly took off running toward the nearest trees, which looked to be a hundred yards straight ahead. He felt like he was running in slow motion due to his body still reeling from the effects of gravity.

The helicopter was soon blocked by the treetops but still fast approaching, the roar of its chopping blades increasing in intensity. He reached an opening in the wooded area and quickly darted in. He worked his way through the heavy brush as flashes of bright sunshine shot through, occasionally blinding him. Before he knew it, the chopper sounded like it was on top of him. He dove under a large bush and quickly covered himself with surrounding brushwood. Through the cracks in the branches and trees above, he caught glimpses of the chopper as it flew precariously close overhead, its sound deafening. As the massive machine flew on and the reverberation started to subside, he let out a big exhale. As he started to get up, the noise increased. Beyond the crowded trees, the helicopter went up into a steep high bank before turning back toward him. Oh shit. Did they see him? He crouched back down as he studied the chopper through the tall brush and watched it level off before settling down in the field. Instantly the doors opened and several soldiers jumped out with guns strapped over their shoulders. The men started jogging right toward him. This isn’t good.

He swiftly jumped up and brushed off the branches before taking off and racing deeper into the woods. He continued to struggle with the Earth’s pull as he jolted through the thick brush, twigs snapping under his feet with each feeble stride. He quickly looked back to see the soldiers entering the wooded area at a fast pace. Come on, Peter. You can lose these guys. He powered through a large clump of trees into a small clearing and to his surprise saw a young Chinese woman sitting alone on a large rock next to a creek. She was obviously startled by his intrusion. Her eyes widened and she quickly bolted up to a standing position. She slowly shimmied backward in her worn straw shoes as she moved up the rock, never turning away from him. With timid fingers, she straightened her tattered gray dress before clasping her hands together. Peter was going to continue on past, but instead stopped. He needed help, and maybe this Chinese peasant girl could assist him.

Breathing heavily, he slowly turned toward her with his hands raised, palms showing. He gradually approached. As he got closer, he was surprised to see tears running down her face. Fortunately, he knew how to say hello in Chinese. “Ni hao.”

She tilted her head slightly before saying with a heavy Chinese accent, “You American?”

Shocked she spoke English, Peter put his hands down to his side as he smiled. “Yes, and I need help.”

She wiped the tears from her face. “Why?”

In between deep breaths he said, “I’m an astronaut, just back from space. Your government is trying to capture me.”

She tilted her head farther to the side, apparently not understanding.

Peter pointed to himself. “I American taikonaut.” He then pointed to the sky. “From space.”

Rustling noise caught Peter’s attention as he turned to the direction of the sound. He faintly saw movement through the heavy bush. Alarmed, he turned back and in a frantic tone asked, “Can you hide me?”

She looked toward the rustling before jumping off the rock and grabbing his hand. A determined look appeared on her face as she gave a slight smile. Without saying a word she turned and started running holding on to him. Peter’s arm was outstretched as he struggled to keep up. Soon she let go of his hand as she started zigzagging at a surprisingly high speed through the woods, Peter fought to stay right on her tail.

DMITRI HUNG UP the phone before dropping his head deep into his hands. He closed his eyes. Peter, I hope you’re in a better place. He rubbed his forehead as he shook his head. Damn, he was so close.

The terrible news had come from NASA that his longtime friend perished during landing. The worst news he could have gotten. Although Peter’s death was tough on him, it would be devastating to his sister. She had experienced a rollercoaster ride of emotions over the last week, and now the ride was ending with the most dreadful news possible. The love of her life was dead.

He lifted his head and looked in Anya’s direction to see her fidgeting with her necklace. A sudden sinking sensation filled him at the look of hope on her face. Everyone in the control room was hopeful Peter would survive. Anya caught Dmitri staring and raised both hands, questioning if he had heard anything. What was he going to say? He smiled at her and slightly shook his head no.

Dmitri put his head back down, burying his face in his hands. Should he tell her now? What effect would this have on her pregnancy? He tried to think of how to soften the blow, but no matter how he worded it in his head, the news was still going to crush her. A nudge on his shoulder broke his train of thought. He looked to see his sister towering over him.

“So, no news yet?”

With a sickening feeling of certainty he said, “Let’s go to my office.”

A flash of disappointment crossed her face. “Why? You know something?”

Dmitri kept his face expressionless. He got up and without looking at her started to walk to his office.

Anya hurriedly caught up and grabbed his shirt. “What do you know?”

Dmitri turned and saw his sister’s eyes starting to well up. “Let’s go to my office.”

Anya let go of his shirt as he turned and walked on. Not hearing her footsteps, he looked back to see her standing with a sorrowful look, a tear running down her face. His heart dropped as he opened his office door and motioned for her to enter. She hesitated for a moment, as if not wanting to hear the news. He waited. Finally, she put her head down and trudged past. He put his arm around his little sister as he escorted her in, closing the door behind them.

PETER FELT LIKE he had been running for miles when the Chinese girl finally slowed down to a walk. She looked back past Peter into the woods before looking at him with a smile. “You safe.”

Peter, out of breath, bowed slightly and thanked the girl. “Xie xie ni.”

She continued walking. “You come. I take to farm.”

Peter was exhausted and welcomed an opportunity to get rest somewhere safe. “I appreciate this, thank you.”

The girl turned and smiled. “I Ying.”

Peter, still breathing heavily, looked down at the tiny girl who looked to be in her early twenties and extended his hand. “Hello, Ying. My name is Peter.”

She stopped walking and bowed before taking his hand.

Curious why a Chinese girl so far away from a big city would speak English, he asked, “How do you know English?”

When she straightened up, he noticed her belly slightly protruding through her dress. Is she pregnant? Wow, and she ran all that way?

“Husband need for job. I help.” She turned and resumed walking.

Peter right away thought of Anya and his future child, which brought a big smile to his face. He was certain he would be seeing her soon. He called out, “Ying, are you with child?”

Ying abruptly stopped before slowly turning around with a distraught look on her face. She bowed. “Yes.”

Peter was surprised by her sudden change in demeanor. Enthusiastically he said, “Congratulations. That’s great. I just learned that my girlfriend is with our first child too. I can’t wait to see her and feel her belly.”

Ying kept her head down low and did not say a word as she turned back around and resumed walking. Peter scratched his head. Why wasn’t she happy to be having a baby? He wondered if maybe that was why she had been crying. He stopped. He had to know. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Aren’t you happy to be having a baby?”

She turned around, tears now in her eyes. “I not can have. I be forced with abortion.”

Peter was shocked. “Why?”

“This my two child. I no have birth permit.”

Peter was aware of the one-child law in China and had heard of some brutal forced abortions. But he thought it was an old law that was rarely enforced. Some of the Chinese engineers he dealt with over the last year while working undercover for SID had more than one child, but they lived in the bigger cities. Maybe the governments in rural areas were stricter. What could he say? “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“My husband work in Chongqing. I only see once a year.” She turned and solemnly walked on.

Peter put his head down, shaking it as he followed. He felt for this courageous girl who took a big risk in saving him.

DOUG ROSE ENTERED the President’s office, slightly slumped over with sadness in his eyes. It was obvious he wasn’t bringing good news. Doug had been in the Situation Room monitoring the landing of the Chinese spacecraft through NASA. The President set down the documents he was reviewing and leaned back in his chair, waiting for the administrator to have a seat.

“Did he make it?”

Doug straightened up in his chair as he glanced uneasily at the President. He shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Damn.” The President leaned forward and put his hand to his chin. He rubbed it as he studied the NASA man. “What happened?”

“Apparently he burned to death. CNSA said the capsule entered the atmosphere on a ballistic trajectory. A fire broke out in the cockpit and because Peter wasn’t wearing a spacesuit, they were unable to save him. Both taikonauts survived.”

A stab of anger flashed through the sadness. Bill took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. He wondered if the Chinese were telling the truth. “Are there any remains of our pilot?”

“No, sir.”

Bill shook his head emphatically. “This is bullshit. I don’t believe those bastards. They are holding something back. How do we know they’re not lying?”

Doug shrugged. “I guess we don’t. We can only confirm there was a problem when they entered the atmosphere, and they probably did enter ballistic. However, that probably didn’t cause the fire. That’s what I question. What started the fire?”

The President turned and looked out the window. Something in his gut told him their man was alive. He swiveled back around and locked eyes with the administrator. “I’m not buying it. Where did they land?”

“Western China, by the border of Kyrgyzstan.”

The President picked up his pen. “I bet you they have him locked up, or he escaped.” He brought the pen to his mouth as he lightly bounced the end on his lower lip. “We have a military base in Kyrgyzstan,” said the President as he picked up the phone.

“Who are you calling, sir?”

“The Secretary of Defense. I want to have Kyrgyzstan’s border patrolled. I’m not going to take any chances. I have this gut feeling Peter is alive, and if he escaped, he would head for that border. I also want to get inspectors to the landing site as soon as possible to inspect that capsule and review the evidence. I am not going to take China’s word on this. We owe it to Peter to confirm what happened.”

PETER WAS SURPRISED how quaint and cozy the small mud brick home was inside, considering how run down it looked on the outside. Ying’s father was sizing Peter up while a chicken ran loose around his feet on the small living room floor. The father’s intense stare did not waver and Peter did not avoid it, returning a smile instead. Behind the burly Chinese man stood a short elderly couple dressed in traditional Chinese clothing with their mouths gaped open, the woman holding a baby. Peter guessed the little guy was about a year old, given Ying’s condition; he’d sort of assumed the kid would be older. After Ying had introduced Peter, she had spoken at length in Chinese to her father. Not able to interpret what was said, he assumed she asked if he could stay for awhile.

The father raised an eyebrow as he pointed to Peter and said something.

Ying translated. “My father ask why you in space and land in China?”

Peter smiled at the father before turning to Ying. “I flew to the moon to take pictures of where America landed over forty years ago. I was about to die, but your country saved me, which is why we landed in China and why I am wearing these coveralls.”

Ying stared dumbfounded for a moment. “You were at moon?”

Peter swelled with pride. “Yes, just over three days ago.”

With a shocked look, she translated Peter’s response to her father. He watched the crusty man burst out laughing, as did the elderly couple behind. Peter was happy to have amused them. The father said something in between his laughter.

Smiling, Ying said, “My dad think you crazy. He say only Ching’e be to moon.”

Peter tilted his head. “Ching’e?”

“It ancient story. Ching’e be goddess of moon. She there with bunny.”

Peter chuckled. “Well, tell him they were visited by three Chinese taikonauts earlier this year.”

Ying just smiled as she shook her head. “Why? He not believe you.”

Peter arched his eyebrows. “Do you?”

Ying shrugged. “I not know.”

The father spoke up. Ying asked, “Dad want know why army after you?”

Peter felt his shoulders relax. “Because I proved China wrong. Your country claimed America never landed.”

Ying translated Peter’s answer before the father slightly chuckled as he gave a short response.

“Dad think army lock you up ’cause you crazy.”

Peter nodded at the father with a wink.

“Father say you can hide here for a couple day. I think he like you.”

Peter bowed before asking, “Do you have a phone or computer around?”

Ying shook her head. “Sorry, no. We have no electricity.”

The father started to speak in detail. The elderly couple participated in the discussion as the father used various hand gestures. Peter stood patiently, unable to decipher what was being said. The voices seemed to be rising in intensity.

Finally, Ying turned with a serious look. “You okay hide here until safe for travel. Then we get you to border, on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

Ying looked to the ground for a second before her father put his arm around her in a consoling manner. She slowly lifted her head. “He wish you take me and son.”

Peter took a step back. “Why?”

“So I can have baby. My cousin be force with abortion. She almost die. He not want lose his grandchild or daughter.”

Peter could see the love in the father’s eyes. The same look Anya’s seventy-five year old father, Viktor Alexandrov, gave his daughter before he joined Peter on the suicide mission to the moon. “How will we get to the border?”

Ying looked at the elderly gentleman as she pointed. “My Yeye.” She turned with an apologetic look. “Sorry, Yeye be grandfather.” She put her hands together. “Yeye often take harvest to market in our horse pulled wagon. We hide in wagon. He get us close to border.”

Peter wasn’t worried about Ying; she already proved her agility running through the woods. He questioned bringing along a one-year-old baby. A slight tear began to appear in her eye. How could he say no to this sweet girl who saved him? How could he let her unborn child be killed? Though the idea sounded risky, he thought of Anya and his own unborn child. He would want someone to do the same for him. He reassuringly nodded yes.

A big smile appeared on the father’s face before he bowed in appreciation.

LEANING AGAINST THE women’s bathroom door, face forward with his hands above his head, Dmitri mourned deeply for his sister. For the last ten minutes he had been trying to console her, hoping to get her to come out. Throughout the ordeal he heard her getting sick multiple times. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and knocked on the door as he opened it.

Dmitri called out, “Anya, are you okay?” His words echoed off the tiled walls. With only one stall with a closed door, he knew exactly where she was. He couldn’t hear a sound. He walked up to the door and knocked. “Anya, are you okay?”

Again silence. Finally, Anya’s voice cracked in despair. “I need to go to the hospital.”

4

GETTING HOME

The wooden wheels of the rickety horse drawn wagon rolled slowly along the bumpy dirt road, jostling Peter around as he sat on a patch of straw. A slight aroma of manure started to mix in with the stale mildew smell he had been inhaling over the last few hours in the tight, enclosed area. He thought at first the smell was coming from the horse pulling them, but soon realized it was instead coming from Ying’s baby next to him. A slight grin crossed his face. Just last week he was over 200,000 miles away in lunar orbit watching the majestic sight of his home planet slowly rising above the lunar surface. Now here he was, hiding like an outlaw in this muggy old wagon with a mother and her now crying baby in a dirty diaper. He had to laugh.

Unexpectedly, Ying’s grandfather, who was driving the wagon, anxiously yelled out something in Chinese. Ying’s eyes widened as she started to rock her baby, trying to calm him. “Soldiers come.”

Peter quickly peeked ahead through one of the narrow slits between the wooden planks that made up the wagon, just above the old man’s shoulder. He saw two Chinese soldiers stationed at a makeshift roadblock they were approaching. Shit. What am I going to do? Ying was having no luck quieting the baby. He was positive they would check inside. He was doomed.

Peter’s heart began to race as he shimmied toward the back end of the wagon where the flimsy access door was. Though it was locked, the wobbly wooden entryway could easily be pried opened. His mind started racing, trying to figure his plan of attack. His only hope was to surprise the guards as they opened the small door and overpower them. Peter looked back through the thin cracks to see they were almost upon the guards. His heart dropped when he noticed they had guns drawn. Fortunately, Ying had calmed her child. Soon the jostling ended as the wagon came to a halt. One of the soldiers shouted out a question. The grandfather timidly answered. Peter held his breath as the other soldier started to walk slowly along the side of the wagon, his gun pointed at it. Neither Ying nor Peter moved.

As the guard approached the back end, Peter’s adrenaline began pumping, his whole body prepared for attack. Suddenly the baby let out a cry and instantly Peter’s muscles tensed. He kept his eye on the soldier’s hands, waiting for him to attempt to pry open the door. The soldier instead yelled out a question as Ying quieted her baby. The wagon wobbled as the grandfather got out and gradually walked toward the back. The guard stepped back as the grandfather approached the door. Peter was convinced he was going to unlock it. The grandfather paused for a moment before he turned and began to plead with the young man. Thinking this might be his only opportunity to catch the soldier off guard, Peter lifted his leg, getting ready to crash open the flimsy door. Ying grabbed his shoulder. He briefly took his eye off the guard to look her way. She slightly shook her head no. Peter turned back to see the man move her grandfather to the side and stare at the wagon. Peter was convinced the bright morning sunshine made it difficult for the guard to see through the small slits into the dark wagon. The man shouted a question in their direction. Peter didn’t move nor say a word. Ying immediately spoke up as her baby began to cry. Peter was totally confused and stayed ready to kick. Ying briefly conversed with the Chinese man through the thin planks in their native language until the other guard called out. Peter was astounded to see the soldier say something to the grandfather before walking back to his post, surprisingly giving them clearance to pass.

Peter couldn’t believe his luck, escaping certain capture. After they had passed through the checkpoint and were far enough away, he whispered to Ying, “How did we get through that?”

Ying was patting her baby on the back. “Yeye say he have granddaughter. She nine months pregnant with second child. We flee family officials.”

Peter tilted his head. “So why didn’t they open the door to check?”

Ying shrugged her shoulders. “I not know. Guard ask me if I okay. I say I think baby come soon. Other guard call out to him. He say to Yeye this not his concern.” She smiled. “He say watch for bad American. He danger.”

Peter shook his head, assuming that the soldiers didn’t want to get involved with the possibility of delivering a child. “Damn, that was close. I was sure he was going to open the door.”

Ying raised her eyebrows and leaned into him. “Since you be to moon, maybe Ching’e save you.”

Peter chuckled. “Or maybe that bunny.”

ANNE NOVAK WAS a wreck. She had been driving her sister-in-law crazy over the last hour pacing nervously back and forth in her kitchen waiting for a phone call from NASA. As the wife of a moonwalker, she had access to the top brass in the organization. She had a call in to the NASA administrator requesting an update on her son. She was assured she would get a call back within the hour.

In a relaxed tone, Virginia said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s okay.”

Anne stopped pacing and darted her brown eyes directly at her sister-in-law. “How can you say that? Supposedly he landed three days ago, but yet we haven’t heard a thing. You know Peter would have called me by now if he could. I know something’s wrong.”

“Well the news said his spacecraft landed safely.”

“Yeah, in China! After what he did, do you think they were waiting with open arms?” Anne lifted her hands and covered her face knowing her sister-in-law was just trying to help. She lightly rubbed her face as she whispered. “Peter, please be safe.”

Anne heard Virginia get off the bar stool and walk toward her. Her sister-in-law’s arm wrapped around her and she said in a consoling voice, “You know our government will get him out, especially after what he did.”

Anne slowly moved her hands from her face and saw the encouraging look on Virginia’s face. Virginia was happy her brother’s legacy was restored, as was she. Anne was immensely proud of her son for proving that his dad had walked on the moon, but Peter’s well-being was all she cared about now. She couldn’t bear to be without both her husband and her only child. Finally, the phone rang. Surprisingly, Anne couldn’t get herself to move.

Virginia nudged her. “Answer it.”

Anne looked at her sister-in-law as she drew a deep breath.

Virginia removed her arm before tilting her head and giving the reassurance Anne needed. “It’ll be fine. Go ahead, answer it.”

Anne slowly walked over to the phone. She stared at it for a second. God, please let him be okay. She gradually lowered her hand and grabbed the cold receiver. She closed her eyes as she lifted it to her ear. She timidly answered, “Hello.”

“Hello, Anne, it’s Doug Rose.”

“Hi, Doug. Thank you so much for calling me back.”

“My pleasure. It’s the least I can do after the heroic mission your son carried out. I have to tell you, not only is he a hero at this agency, he’s a hero to this country. In fact, the President of the United States calls him a hero.”

Anne opened her eyes, caring only about one thing. “Doug, is Peter okay?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Doug’s voice turned serious. “We know the Chinese spacecraft had some problems when it entered the atmosphere; however, they did land. At this time, the Chinese are being vague on Peter’s condition. I’ve been assured our government is pursuing all options to make sure he’s safe and to get him home as soon as possible.”

Anne dropped her head. “Doug, do you think he survived?”

Again silence, before Doug answered with a definitive, “Yes.”

PETER TRUDGED UP the steep embankment carrying Ying’s sleeping baby through the trees that blocked the early afternoon sun. With no clear path up the mountain, he had to make one, going over bushes and under branches. He was happy to have had a few days rest at Ying’s family farm. No way could he have made this climb soon after returning from space. He looked back to see Ying struggling. They had been at it for almost two hours. Ying’s grandfather got them as close as he could, which was to the base of the mountains that bordered Kyrgyzstan. They were almost at the top of the ridge, and according to the grandfather, just past the peak was Kyrgyzstan.

“You okay?”

Ying stopped a second to wipe the sweat off her forehead. “I fine.”

Peter was impressed with the young girl’s strength and stamina. “We’re almost to the top.”

Ying bowed her head slightly before resuming the climb.

Peter came upon a hanging branch blocking his way. When he moved it to the side, he instantly stopped. A beautiful baby Panda cub was all alone playing at the base of a tree. It looked just like the many cute, cuddly stuffed toys he had often seen in stores, with its fluffy white fur and trademark black circles around its eyes. Part of him wanted to go pick it up and hug it. Ying walked up to his side and noticed the panda. A surprised look crossed her face. In a whisper she asked, “Where Mom?”

Peter quietly answered, “No idea. I haven’t seen her.” Though he didn’t know much about pandas, he knew any pissed off grown bear could kill.

Ying pulled Peter’s shirt. “Let’s go another way.”

Peter nodded as he turned, but in his rush he accidently let a branch swipe against Ying’s baby. The boy instantly woke with a wail. Peter looked back to see the panda cub scurry off in the opposite direction toward some bushes. Ying quickly grabbed her baby hoping to calm him, but regrettably, it was too late. A loud rustling sound started to come from the direction of the cub. Soon the bushes shook violently before an enormous panda emerged.

Peter kept his eye on the monster as he whispered, “Should we run?”

Ying was trying to muffle her child’s cries. “No. Not move.”

Peter stayed still, but the bear kept approaching. He had to do something. He quickly opened the survival kit strapped to his waist and quietly pulled out a smoke flare. He hurriedly pulled the cap before throwing the flare in front of the bear. Orange smoke instantly started shooting out one end with a loud hiss. Peter was relieved to see the bear retreat into the bushes. Soon the orange smoke had engulfed the area.

Waving the smoke from his face, Peter smiled. “That seems to have done the trick.”

Ying nodded as she motioned that they walk in the other direction.

After a few moments of walking, Peter’s heart sank when he heard helicopter blades. He turned and raised his hand for Ying to stop. She halted as she tilted her head, questioning why. He put his finger to his lips as he listened. It had been days since he had last seen any Chinese helicopters. He would have thought twice about using the flare if he thought choppers were patrolling. The faint sound started to increase. It was definitely a helicopter. He looked back at the bellowing orange smoke in the distance that now extended into the sky. There was no way the pilot would miss that. Damn!

Peter took the baby from Ying. “We need to find a hiding place, now!” They took off running, jumping over bushes as he scanned the area for cover.

Over by some large rocks, he thought he saw an entrance to a small cave. Perfect. He quickly hustled to the entry. The opening looked to be about three feet in diameter. He moved branches to the side as he peeked in. He could barely see in due to the blocked out sunlight. The hollow was empty and dark. Though it would probably be tight, it would work. He quickly motioned for Ying to get in as the helicopter approached. She reached for the baby. “No, get in first,” insisted Peter.

Ying got on her hands and knees before scampering into the small opening. Once in, her hands reappeared. Peter handed her the baby before swiftly gathering some branches. He quickly crawled in and covered the entrance with the sticks.

He was pleased the baby stayed quiet as the helicopter began to hover over them. Because of the smoke flare, he was sure the helicopter would land or send down soldiers on a drop line. Peter couldn’t believe his ears when he heard English being spoken over the helicopter’s PA system.

“This is the United States Air Force. Please come out and show yourself.”

Peter was cautious at first, wondering if the Chinese were playing a trick on him. He peeked through the branches to see the markings were definitely American military. He quickly brushed the branches aside as he jumped up and started waving and yelling at the chopper.

The PA blared, “We see you. Please stay put.”

A big smile crossed Peter’s face. He stuck his head back into the cave. “Looks like the good guys are here to save us.”

THE SMELL OF medicine filled the air as Peter dialed up Dmitri using the phone in the medical ward. He and Ying were safely at Manas Air Base. After a brief once-over by the doctor, Peter was finally free to make important calls. He had already tried calling Anya on her cell phone but got her voicemail. He elected not to leave a message, wanting to tell her directly he was safe and out of China. He hoped to reach her brother in Russia and find out where she was.

As Peter held the phone to his ear waiting for his friend to answer, he looked over at Ying who was lying on a gurney getting ready for an ultrasound examination. By her side, her son slept peacefully. Peter was happy to have taken her along and pleased she would be taken care of.

Dmitri answered, “Zdrah-stvooy.”

For the first time since leaving the moon Peter finally heard a familiar voice. He instantly flashed a big grin. “Hello, Dmitri, guess who?”

Dmitri’s voice shot up into a high octave tone. “Peter! It’s you. It’s great to hear your voice. We thought you were dead.”

Peter’s face tightened as he looked out the window. “What? Who told you that?”

“The Chinese. CNSA informed NASA you burned to death upon landing and there were no remains.”

Peter’s grip tightened on the phone. “Bullshit. Is that what Anya thinks?”

There was a long pause. “Yes. I informed her a few days ago.”

Peter started pacing. “Where is she? I need to tell her I’m okay. I just tried calling her cell phone.”

“She’s flying to America. After Dad’s memorial yesterday she told me she needed to give something to your mom.”

Peter stopped pacing and lowered his head. The depressing memories of Viktor dying in their spacecraft flashed through Peter’s mind. The veteran cosmonaut’s final resting place ended up being the surface of the moon, where their dying ship crashed with his lifeless body strapped in. “I’m sorry I missed his funeral. He did one hell of a job flying us to the moon. He was a good man.”

“Thanks Peter. If we had any idea you were alive, we would have held off. It was a beautiful service.”

Peter cleared his head. He needed to get to Anya and was sure she was delivering his letter to his mom per his request if he died. He resumed pacing. “When did Anya leave?”

“Earlier this morning. She’s definitely on a plane now.”

Peter’s mind began racing. He figured she had about twenty hours of travel time from Moscow before reaching his mom’s in Houston, probably arriving around dinnertime. He figured he could travel in half that time if he could fly out on one of the F-15s from the base. If he flew out in the next few hours, he should arrive before her. Convinced he could beat her, he decided not to wake his mom. “I need to get to Houston before she does.”

“Peter, there’s something you should know.”

Peter stopped pacing. “What’s that?”

“After she learned you were killed. The news…well…it was just too much for her to handle.”

“What happened? Is she okay?” There was a long pause. Peter began nervously tapping his finger on the phone.

“She lost the baby.”

Peter’s heart squeezed. He looked over to see Ying’s belly exposed as the doctor moved a rounded device over gel on her tummy. A big smile was on her face as she was seeing images of her child for the first time. She saw Peter look over and enthusiastically pointed to the monitor. He smiled before turning away. His smile fell. “Damn. Is she okay?”

“Physically, she’s fine. But emotionally, she’s a wreck.”

“Okay, thanks. I’m going to get to Houston as soon as I can.”

“Good luck. Anya will be thrilled. She’s madly in love with you, Peter.”

Peter grimaced at the pain she must be in. “I’m madly in love with her too.”

THE F-15E STRIKE Eagle looked impressive as Peter walked around the gray beauty, inspecting it while wearing a borrowed flight suit and carrying a helmet by his side. The Air Force had pretty jets, and to Peter, the F-15 was the queen of the ball. The sixty-foot plane looked like it was doing Mach 2 sitting on the ground. He couldn’t wait to get her in the air.

Pleased he was able to get in a quick shower and shave before suiting up for the flight, Peter slapped the back of the pilot who was stuck with the chore of escorting him home. “Tommy, I call the front seat.”

Tommy shot him a surprised look. “Sir, I was told you were to be in the weapon’s seat.”

Peter arched his eyebrow and assumed a cocky grin. “Why? Are we going into battle?” He pointed his finger to the back seat. “You don’t want to waste my talents back there, Son. Tell you what, you sit in the back and take a nap.”

Unwavering, Tommy said, “Sir, I need to check with my commanding officer.”

“Or you can check with my commanding officer.” Peter winked. Tommy was aware the President of the United States had given clearance to the base commander for him to have this ride. “Tell you what, I’ll just fly the first leg.” He would probably need sleep later on anyway. But right now, he had to get his hands on this baby and see what she could do.

Tommy started climbing up the ladder to the cockpit as he asked in a sarcastic tone, “You won’t crash it?”

Peter looked up. “Dude, I don’t have $30 million in change. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your precious baby. However, I might show you a trick or two.”

Peter got his way, and before he knew it, he had the F-15 engines roaring as the jet sat motionless at the end of the runway waiting to be freed. Peter held the mighty bird back as he teased his senses. The howl of the engines shot goose bumps all over his body. His hand tightened around the stick as he looked down the straightaway in front of him. It’s been awhile, baby. He had been given final clearance by the tower and was ready to play. He wrapped the oxygen mask around his mouth and locked it in place before lowering his visor. He yelled out, “Are you ready for an E-ticket ride?”

His young passenger questioned, “What’s an E-ticket ride?”

A mischievous smile crossed Peter’s face as he released the brakes. The jet shot forward with an unbelievable force. “Let’s see what 60,000 lbs of thrust feels like.” The afterburner kicked in as their acceleration increased. Peter couldn’t have worn a bigger grin. As they powered down the runway, Peter decided to give the tower a little show. “Hold on.” He pulled back on the stick and went vertical, shooting straight up into the sky as he continued to accelerate. After all he had been through over the last month, this was the release he needed. He couldn’t contain himself as he yelled out a wild, “Yeehaw!”

KUANG SLAMMED THE phone receiver down hard. His blood boiled after learning the military allowed the American to escape China. With the astronaut safely out of the country, he lost his last chance of forcing a false confession with the hopes of swaying public opinion. Boxed into a corner, he had no choice but to put into action China’s backup plan, put in place in case the moon mission failed. With the American beating them to the moon and exposing their lies, he had to play his trump card. Though the hoax would kill astronauts and affect future space exploration for the international community for years, there was no other option. China had to strike back after being embarrassed in front of the world.

He decidedly picked up the phone to call Lin Wu, the Assistant Director of China’s secret service. The MSS was the lead agency for the covert operation and had been waiting for Kuang’s approval to initiate the final stages. Kuang hesitated for a moment before dialing the number, making sure he was making the right decision. He peeked over at the picture of his parents. A quick flash of Americans celebrating their recent success was enough to convince him. He assertively punched in the Assistant Director’s number before patiently waiting for Lin to answer.

“Hello.”

Kuang spoke in a steady voice. “Lin, it’s Kuang.”

A cocky tone oozed from the phone. “I was expecting your call.”

It was obvious Lin knew the details of the failed mission. “Put operation Tianlong into action.”

“You want all phases initiated?”

Without hesitation Kuang answered, “Yes, immediately.”

“Consider it done. You have made a wise decision.”

PETER HUSTLED UP the front porch steps of his mom’s house, wondering if he had arrived before Anya. The F-15 did a great job getting him halfway around the world in record time, and a loaner military car was waiting for him at Ellington Air Force Base. He figured he had about a 60% chance of being first. If he wasn’t, then his mom was probably already informed her only son was dead. The news would be devastating and possibly a total shock if she still had no idea that he had been on the mission to the moon; for all he knew, she’d never been told about the top-secret assignment. He took a moment to peek through a small slit in the side window blinds to see if he could spot either lady. He moved his head around, but there was no evidence.

He repositioned himself with his face looking directly at the door as he nervously rubbed his hands together. These two ladies were the most important people in his life, and he couldn’t wait to see them. He looked down at the potted plant and considered using the front door key hidden in it as he often did. Not knowing what was going on inside, he felt it best to ring the doorbell. Besides, if his mom had been told of his death, then he would be pulling off a miracle for her. Opening the door and seeing her son standing there alive would be a shocker, and he had a flair for dramatics.

He took a deep breath before pushing the doorbell button. The chime echoed throughout the front foyer. He was surprisingly nervous as he waited, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. After a few moments, he heard someone slowly walk up and unlock the door. He stood up straighter as the handle turned and the door slowly opened.

The sunlight followed the door inside and worked its way across his mother’s body before lighting her face. He could tell by her red eyes she had been crying, evidence Anya was there and had given her the bad news. Her mouth gaped wide open, obviously startled to see him. He smiled big as he raised his arms, “Guess who?”

Her whole expression transformed to joy. She yelled out, “Peter!” as she jumped into his arms. As they hugged, she said softly, “I thought I had lost you forever.”

Peter smiled. “Na, you didn’t lose me. Not yet anyway.”

She pulled away and looked into his eyes. “Anya’s here. She told me you died while landing in China.”

Peter shook his head. “Sorry about that, Mom. That was a bunch of crap put out by China.” He stepped back slightly and peeked into the house. “Where is she?”

His mom smiled big. “She’s in your dad’s office. She will be so surprised. I know she struggled to stay strong while telling me you didn’t survive. She’s hurting deeply.”

He patted his mom lightly on the back. “I’ve got to see her.” He gave his mom a sweet kiss on the cheek before walking down the hallway.

“I’ll warm up some tea in the kitchen.”

“Perfect,” Peter whispered.

He worked his way through the house before reaching the end of the hallway where his dad’s office door was not quite closed all the way. Quietly, he pushed it open and peered inside. Anya’s back was to him as she stood looking at the photographs on the wall. She was dressed casually in a pair of jeans with an untucked purple blouse, her jet-black hair flowing past her shoulders. He grinned with pride. No matter how she dressed, she looked fabulous.

She was staring at the picture of their fathers together, taken during their training for the U.S.-USSR mission. He took a second to take in the moment, one he had felt he would never have after taking on the suicide mission. Finally he said, “Your father was one hell of a cosmonaut. He saved my ass a couple of times.”

She didn’t move. The room was still for a moment. In a frail voice she said, “I hear your dad was a hell of an astronaut, too, and that he even walked on the moon.” Without turning around, she slowly lowered her head as he walked up from behind. Her voice trembled as she said, “This better not be a dream.”

Peter put his hand on her shoulder. “Baby, it’s no dream.”

She turned, tears swelling in her blue eyes. “Oh, Peter.” She flung herself into his waiting arms as she wrapped hers tightly around him. Peter never felt so good in his life. He picked her up and twirled her around as he said, “Anya Alexandrov, I missed you so much. I love you.”

Her whole body was shaking. She squeezed even tighter as she responded, “Peter Novak, you have no idea how much I love you.”

5

BACK IN THE FIRE

Late for an urgent meeting with the director of the Space Intelligence Division, Peter had a confident strut in his step as he hustled down the long narrow corridor of the CIA building. He couldn’t hide the elation that bubbled within, happy to be back on Earth and to have spent the last few days with his true love. He came close to proposing to Anya while in Houston, but with the loss of the baby, the timing wasn’t right. He knew they were destined to be together and that moment would come.

Unfortunately, their time was cut short by an early morning wakeup call from Gavin Ross, requesting him to report immediately to the Virginia headquarters. Although he was not given any details, the urgency in the director’s voice, along with a waiting jet to fly him to D.C., convinced him it was a serious crisis. He hated leaving Anya so soon after getting back; however, he was excited about rejoining SID. Peter had to resign from the agency before accepting the secret mission to the moon, ensuring he had no direct ties to the government. The President wanted to make sure America could not be directly blamed for the operation if it failed.

Peter was pleased he caught Gavin’s assistant before she took off for her lunch break. Lola Peterson immediately lit up when she saw him, sending a surprising jolt of joy through him. The attractive sixty-year-old grandmother jumped to her feet and extended her arms. Peter swooped in for a hug. She squeezed tightly. “I thought we had lost you.”

From the genuineness in her voice, he realized she must have known that he had been on a suicide mission. He tried to lighten the mood. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about some cocky agent flirting with you.”

Lola pulled back. Her eyes locking on his as her expression grew serious. “You would be the one I would miss.”

Considering all the agents she had dealt with over the years, that was high praise. “Thanks, Lola. I appreciate that. So I guess you can tolerate my flirting?”

Lola gave him a final squeeze before pulling away, her face glowing again. “Tolerate it? I insist on it.”

“Great.” Peter arched an eyebrow as he slowly looked her up and down. “Well then, you look as sexy as ever.”

She blushed as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Keep ‘em coming, young man. Can I pour you a cup of coffee before you go in?”

“That’d be great.”

As always, he watched her from behind as she walked over and poured. She quickly turned around to catch him staring. He just smiled. She carefully handed him the cup as she winked. “You better get in there.”

He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” He took a whiff of the freshly brewed coffee before proudly marching through Gavin’s open doorway. He barked out, “Good afternoon, Boss.”

Gavin quickly swung around in his chair and looked up from the paperwork he was reviewing. A warm smile instantly appeared. He stood and extended a welcoming hand. “Good to see you, Peter.”

Peter nodded as he approached the empty chair in front of the desk. “Glad to be here.” He gently placed the coffee on a coaster before he took the outstretched hand, and gave a firm handshake.

Gavin mashed his lips before he spoke, his voice laced with sincerity. “I’m so happy you made it back. That was a hard call for the agency to make, sacrificing one of our best.”

Peter tried to put the director at ease as he let go of his hand. “It was my decision. I did it for my dad and my country. You put no pressure on me. I’m just happy China saved my ass.” Peter pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket and tossed it on Gavin’s desk. “Here is a copy of the pictures taken at the moon. Hopefully it wasn’t damaged from the water.”

Gavin picked up the drive and looked at it. “Water?”

“Yeah, we landed in a river.”

“Well I am glad you survived. That was some adventure you were on.”

“An adventure of a lifetime. It was amazing flying over Dad’s old stomping grounds, seeing his footprints after forty years.”

Gavin placed the drive into his desk drawer. “I’m sure you made your dad proud, and you definitely made your country proud.” Gavin motioned toward a chair. “Have a seat.”

As Peter sat, the director continued to stand, holding the paperwork by his side. “I appreciate you coming out on such short notice.”

Peter flashed a sly smile, remembering his frustration at leaving Anya in a warm bed. “I could tell by your voice it was urgent.”

“It is.” Gavin sat down and set the papers on his desk before shuffling through another stack. His eyes widened when he found what he was looking for. He studied the paperwork for a moment before looking up with hope. “How would you like to rejoin the team?”

Without pause, Peter answered, “Absolutely.”

“Great.” Gavin leaned over and placed the paperwork in front of him. “Here are your reinstatement papers. Sign them, and I can brief you on the mission.”

Peter grabbed one of Gavin’s pens from a holder and started initialing the highlighted areas. “I think I might hold off taking any suicide missions for awhile.”

“Let’s hope I never have to ask an agent to do that again.”

Peter signed the last page before handing the papers back.

Gavin spiritedly grabbed the papers. He flipped to the last page and signed it. “Okay, it’s official. You’re back on board.”

Curiosity had been gnawing at Peter ever since Gavin’s call, wondering why he was needed over other agents. “So what’s this crisis?”

Gavin leaned back in his chair and studied Peter for a moment. He answered in a tight and efficient voice. “The Soyuz that launched yesterday for the ISS had an explosion in orbit and is stranded. The explosion happened in the service module, damaging the descent module. All three cosmonauts have been forced into the orbital module until they can be rescued.”

Peter’s jaw dropped as he straightened in his chair. Though he hadn’t watched much news since getting back, he remembered hearing a civilian was going to the ISS. “Isn’t there a space tourist on board?”

Gavin nodded. “Yes, and apparently he is some billionaire’s spoiled ass kid who is not handling this very well.”

“How much time do they have?”

“NASA figures they have less than forty-eight hours before their air supply runs out.”

Peter lifted his hands, palm side up. “So why doesn’t Russia just send up a Soyuz to save them?”

Gavin shot him a dejected look. “They can’t. The damaged Soyuz is the newer model K, which unluckily happens to be what’s sitting on the pad for an emergency rescue. The Russians fear the same problem can happen again, and there’s no reliable Soyuz model TMA ready. They can have one on the pad by tomorrow, but it will be minus an orbital module. So it can’t be used for the rescue.”

Peter shook his head, amazed at Russia’s shortsightedness. He understood there wouldn’t be enough room to house all three men along with the rescuing pilot in a Soyuz without an orbital module. Since the damaged ship the cosmonauts were in also had no airlock, there wasn’t the possibility of saving two of the men and transporting them to the ISS before returning for the other.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What was the rush launching without a TMA model ready?”

“Apparently there was some clause in the space tourist’s contract that said he had to launch by July 15th or it would be null and void.”

Peter rolled his eyes. He knew how important money was to the Russian space program. “So why don’t they just pick them up with the escape pods from the space station?”

“Well, if you remember, you stole one,” replied Gavin with a smirk. “And the other one was brought back on schedule with three ISS astronauts.”

Peter took a sip of coffee. He was starting to get the picture. The only potential lifeboat out there was the Galileo parked at the space station, which he flew up. He figured that must be why he was needed. He leaned back in his chair, putting both hands on the armrests. “So what do you need me for?”

Gavin spoke without hesitation. “The Galileo is our only option at saving those men, and you are the only man who has flown it.”

Peter looked out the window. Though Galileo could be returned to Earth by mission control, it would need to be piloted by an astronaut to rendezvous with the disabled Soyuz. “So I fly up on the Russian rocket being put on the pad?”

“Yes, a TMA model with no orbital module. If you accept the mission, you would need to leave immediately for Baikonur. A veteran cosmonaut will fly you to the space station.”

Peter figured it would take him at least fourteen hours travel time to get to Russia’s launch facility, Baikonur Cosmodome, in Kazakhstan. With the ten-hour time change, he would probably arrive mid-morning local time.

Peter rubbed his chin, thinking. “How will we dock to the ISS without an orbital module?”

“You won’t. Since you will not have a docking apparatus, the ISS robotic arm will capture you. You’ll do a spacewalk to enter the station.”

Peter grabbed his cup of coffee as he looked past Gavin, taking a sip as he thought of the operation. He assumed his responsibility would be to fly the Galileo, while the cosmonaut taking him up or one of the ISS astronauts did the rescue spacewalk. He started shaking his head. He was familiar with the internals of the Galileo, and questioned it being large enough to house all five astronauts. “I think we have a problem.”

Gavin tilted his head. “What’s that?”

Peter set the coffee cup back on the desk. “I seriously doubt the Galileo can handle five men in spacesuits, especially if one of us is in an EMU suit.”

Gavin relaxed his shoulders. “Not a problem; that’s already been thought out. There will only be four of you.”

Peter leaned back as he shot a questioning look toward his boss.

“Only you will fly over in Galileo. Once you rendezvous with the Soyuz, you will pass control of the vehicle over to SpaceQuest. Then you will do the spacewalk to rescue the men.”

“Is the plan to return to the International Space Station?”

“No. There is not enough fuel. You’ll have to return to Earth.”

With his elbows planted on the chair’s armrests Peter extended his hands. “What if there is an emergency with the ISS when I depart in the Galileo? The only lifeboat available will be the Soyuz we fly up, and it can’t handle three ISS astronauts and the cosmonaut.”

“Correct, but that’s a risk NASA has accepted. Russia should get a second TMA model up there within forty-eight hours after you leave the station.”

Peter locked his fingers together as he looked out the window. Just as he couldn’t wear the rigid spacesuit in the Chinese ship falling through the atmosphere, he surely couldn’t wear one in the cramped Soyuz. “I doubt I can go through re-entry wearing an EMU suit.”

“NASA agrees. In fact they question whether you could fly the Galileo in that suit. NASA concluded there is only one type of spacesuit out there that would allow you the flexibility of sitting in a seat and doing an extended EVA.”

“Which one is that?” Peter reached for his cup and took another sip.

“The old Skylab suit.”

Peter practically spit out his coffee hearing he was going to be wearing a suit made for the 1973 mission. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. In fact as we speak one is being packed on the military plane that will fly to Kazakhstan, hopefully with you on board.”

Peter joked, “What museum did they find that at?” He set his coffee down. “Will it work?”

“I’ve been told they rushed to locate one your size and quickly had it tested. After replacing some parts, it should do the job.”

Peter was familiar with the Skylab suit. As he thought about it, using that suit made sense. The Skylab spacesuits were designed for both flight and spacewalks. Though the suit’s main source of oxygen during extravehicular activities, or EVA’s, was supplied by an umbilical cord attached to the Skylab station, they also had a small emergency oxygen pack strapped to the leg. These small packs differed from the Apollo suits that had large backpacks. Peter couldn’t sit in Galileo with the large Apollo backpack attached, and couldn’t hook up one on his own.

Gavin’s eyes grew wide. “Guess whose suit you’ll wear?”

Right away Peter thought of Dusty Robinson, the man who walked on the moon with his dad and later flew on Skylab. His dad always swore Dusty was over six feet tall, the height limit by NASA back then. Dusty later admitted he tried to avoid taking a physical in the morning because he seemed to shrink throughout the day, and he learned how to slouch unnoticeably. Peter smiled. “There is only one Skylab astronaut’s suit I could possibly fit in—Dusty Robinson.”

Gavin looked impressed. “Damn, you’re right. The cosmonaut flying up with you will wear the new Sokol LM spacesuit, which will allow him to do the transfer to the space station.”

“How will I move between spacecrafts?”

“A SAFER. You will jury-rig the jetpack to the Skylab suit.”

A sly smirk emerged on Peter’s face as he remembered slamming into the International Space Station wearing the propulsive backpack system. “Good; I’m an expert on flying that thing now.”

Gavin shot a puzzled look.

Peter gave a minor nod with a wink before he turned to gaze out the window. This operation was sounding like a blast, and he was convinced he could pull it off. But he hated leaving Anya so soon after getting back from the moon. How would she handle it? He hoped she would understand this was his job, a part of his life.

Gavin interrupted his train of thought. “Russia does not want this to go public. It could be a public relations nightmare and hurt their future tourist business.”

Peter turned with a look of coolness, understanding this was a top-secret mission. “Got it.”

Gavin leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “So what do you think? Are you game?”

“Absolutely. I’m your man. I’ll bring those men back safely. Besides, I never paid my bill for my last stay at the space station.”

Gavin smiled as he grabbed a file and tossed it across the desk. “Here are the specifics. You need to leave immediately. There’s a helicopter outside waiting to take you to Andrews Air Force Base.” Gavin stood and extended his hand. “It’s great to have you back, Peter.”

Peter quickly stood and grabbed Gavin’s hand. “Good to be back, Boss.”

PETER HUSTLED ACROSS the rooftop helipad as he powered through the rushing air being generated by the mighty rotors of the waiting black helicopter. When he walked under the spinning blades, he lowered his head, a common reflex.

Peter approached the helicopter’s entrance. An agent was waiting by the doorway. He yelled out over the thundering noise surrounding them. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Novak.”

Peter gave a casual wave as he hollered back, “Thank you.” He quickly jumped in before shifting over to the back seat bench. He immediately put on the radio headset lying on the seat. Other than the pilot at the controls, he was the only passenger. The agent outside gave a brief wave before shutting the door tight, instantly cutting off the loud noise.

The pilot looked back as he spoke into his mic. “Hello, sir; I’m Darren. Welcome aboard.”

Peter adjusted the volume on his headset. “Thank you. By the way, you don’t have to call me sir.”

“Are you ready for takeoff, Mr. Novak?”

“Darren, just call me Peter. I’m all set.”

“Yes, sir.”

Peter chuckled at the young agent. The craft started to lift as he looked outside. He always enjoyed the sensation of flying in a helicopter. After they were a safe distance up, the helicopter rolled on its side, pulling him toward the window as they went into a steep 90-degree turn.

Peter continued to stare as he started to review the mission in his head. He couldn’t believe he was already going back into space after being back only a little over a week. He was looking forward to launching in a Russian rocket for the first time, as well as getting back into a Soyuz spacecraft. He instantly thought of Viktor, sure he would reminisce about his old friend through the mission. He was looking forward to visiting those past memories.

This was the first mission he’d agreed to take on while in love. Anya was now a part of his life, and he had a responsibility to her. He needed to inform her he was leaving and would definitely return home safely. “Can you patch a call through for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Peter rattled off Anya’s cell number. He rubbed his hands together as he waited. Soon the ringing reverberated in his headset.

After a few rings, her soft voice answered. “Hello?”

Peter figured she was probably wondering who was calling after seeing an unknown number. “Hey, Baby, it’s me.”

Her voice perked up. “Where are you?”

“I’m in a helicopter.”

“Are you coming home?”

There was a short pause. “I wish I was. I’m leaving the country on a short mission.”

Sadness outlined her voice. “Oh? When will you return?”

Peter spoke with assurance. “Not sure. Maybe in a week or so, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Where are you off to?”

Peter couldn’t tell her, and even if he wanted to, he was on an open mic. Though no firm plans had been made between them on what they would do regarding their jobs and living situation, Anya had mentioned she needed to get back to Russia because of her work. He figured if she went back and met with Dmitri, he would probably tell her what was going on, possibly allowing her into the control room. “I can’t tell you, but go ahead and travel back to Russia and take care of what you need to. I also suggest touching base with Dmitri.”

“Why Dmitri?”

Peter hoped to give her a clue. “Like when I went to the moon, he might be able to give you some insight.”

Her voice sounded apprehensive. “Oh, okay.”

“I’ve got to go.”

She cooed. “Take care of yourself. I don’t ever again want to think I’ve lost you.”

Peter grabbed the pendant around his neck. “Don’t worry; everything will be fine. I don’t want to be without you, either.”

“Promise?”

Peter rubbed the pendant. “Promise.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Babe.”

6

BAIKONUR COSMODROME

The officer’s footsteps clicked rhythmically down the concrete corridor inside the crusty old building, stationed within the compounds of Russia’s famous launch facility. Peter followed closely behind as he wiped the sweat off his brow. Due to the lack of air conditioning, he figured he was walking in one of the complex’s original sixty-year-old buildings. Though a light late morning breeze flowed through the many opened widows, it was of little help cooling him off. The passageway felt as hot as the ninety-degree-plus temperature outside.

Hustling to keep up with the focused soldier, Peter did a final review of the file given to him by Gavin. Peter’s sweaty fingers kept smearing ink as he turned the pages. He hoped this last minute review would prepare him for the briefing he was about to walk into. It was his understanding that after this meeting he would suit up and board the Soyuz for liftoff later this afternoon. Things were happening quickly.

This was Peter’s first visit to the Baikonur Cosmodrome, where many historic Russian space flights had launched, including Sputnik and the world’s first manned space flight. He was amazed he was back in south-central Asia so soon after escaping the region. Russia’s launch complex was in the desert steppe of Kazakhstan, just south of Russia, bordering China and Kyrgyzstan. He couldn’t help but think of Ying on the flight over, hoping the brave young woman was okay. Though he paved the way for her to stay a couple of months at the base, she was determined to eventually sneak back into China with her children to reunite with her family and husband.

Peter was able to get in a solid six hours of sleep on the plane. He had no idea how much rest he would be able to get over the next forty-eight. Concentrating on the paperwork, Peter almost walked into the soldier slowing down while approaching a closed door. The officer did a hard knock before opening it and stepping back, motioning for Peter to enter. Peter did a slight nod as a welcome blast of cool air shot out of the doorway, hitting him square in the face. He charged into the large chilled meeting room expecting to see a handful of FKA officials, but instead was surprised to see only one man wearing a business suit sitting on the other side of a long conference table. A huge grin shot across Peter’s face when he realized it was his old friend, Dmitri.

Peter bellowed, “I was hoping to see you.”

Without saying a word, Dmitri rose and quickly walked around the table. Just before approaching, he extended his arms like an eagle in flight as he swooped in to give Peter a hug. Peter placed the file on the table before putting out his arms to greet his friend. Peter was caught off guard by Dmitri’s strong bear hug, practically lifting Peter off the ground. “Dear friend, I’m so happy you survived.”

Peter gave his buddy a couple solid pats on the back before pulling away. “Thanks, but I’m sorry your dad didn’t.” Peter cleared the lump in his throat. “But at least he’s with your mom now.”

Dmitri lowered his eyes. “True and he fulfilled his dream of reaching the moon, thanks to you.” Dmitri straightened up. “Have a seat. We’ll be joined by the launch and mission teams shortly.”

After picking up his file, Peter walked over to the chair across from Dmitri. “I’m happy to see you here. I wondered if you would be a part of this operation.”

A smile crossed Dmitri’s face as he took his seat. “Not only am I a part of it, I’m the one who recommended you for this rescue. Believe it or not, after one space flight, you are now one of the world’s most experienced astronauts, having flown in the Soyuz, the Shenzhou, the Galileo and the International Space Station. There’s no man more qualified to handle this rescue.”

Peter was the only man to have flown in all the current manned spacecraft. “Wow, you’re right. I never thought of it that way.”

Dmitri motioned for Peter to sit as he settled himself back in his chair. “Plus, throw in the fact that you’ve done a couple of spacewalks and flown to the moon, which, other than the Chinese, hasn’t been done in over forty years. I’d say you have quite a resume.”

Peter swelled with pride as he took a seat.

Dmitri continued, “Congratulations, by the way.”

Peter tilted his head. “For what?”

Dmitri grinned. “Winning our bet.” He started to dig into his pocket. “So how much do I owe you?”

Peter laughed. They were kids when they made a bet related to space travel, though neither remembered exactly what it was. Dmitri was being nice in conceding the bet was about getting to the moon first. “I think a ruble. Actually the bet was probably who would walk on the moon first. So why don’t you hold off paying me.”

Dmitri’s empty hand came out of his pocket. “Tell you what—let’s make it double or nothing on who walks on the moon first?”

“Deal.”

“I talked to Anya late last night. She told me you recommended she touch base with me.”

Peter perked up. “I did. What did you tell her?”

“Nothing about the mission, but I did tell her to catch the next flight to Moscow. She should arrive early tomorrow morning. I’ll do what I can to get her into the control room. Of course, you’re going to be a busy man.”

Peter’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. It was tough leaving her yesterday morning. I knew you’d take care of her.”

“Don’t worry about her. You need to worry about saving those men.”

Peter’s body finally started to cool down, thanks to the two window air conditioners running full blast. “So when do we launch?”

“In a little over five hours. Launch is scheduled at 2:48 this afternoon. Aleksandr Chumakov will be the cosmonaut flying you up. He’s currently being checked out in medical and should join us any minute.”

Aleksandr was probably one of Russia’s most experienced cosmonauts, having already flown four missions. “Great. I know he’s one of your best. So how is the tourist handling all of this?”

Dmitri shook his head. “Not good. He had to be sedated. He was getting hysterical and using up all their oxygen.”

“How in the world did he pass training?”

“Good question. It was my understanding he successfully accomplished everything thrown at him.”

“Who is he, anyway?”

“Carlos Calma, son of Jose Calma, the famous business tycoon.”

Shaking his head, Peter opened his file. He had read about the flashy playboy. “SID informed me this will be a secret mission. How in the world can you keep a launch secret?”

“We can’t. After we launch, we’ll tell the media its purpose is to replace the Soyuz you stole to the moon, informing them the cosmonauts flying will immediately return in the Galileo, ensuring the station has reliable escape pods.”

“Smart.”

“Of course, we eventually will have to come up with a story on why the tourist didn’t make it to the space station.”

Peter arched an eyebrow. “Hey, you Russians will come up with something.”

Dmitri smiled. “Let’s worry about the rescue first.” He leaned in. “Unfortunately, because of the rush, you’ll miss out on many of our prelaunch traditions.”

Peter chuckled as he remembered peeing on the van tire with Viktor. “I experienced some of those, thanks to your dad.” He raised his hand. “You need a checklist just to keep track of them all.”

“We do have a lot. But there is one I didn’t want you to miss.” Dmitri pulled the chair out next to him and lifted an old tattered, leather-bound book. He carefully slid it across the table. “Since you will now be flying as a cosmonaut, you should sign the log all cosmonauts sign before their mission.” Dmitri pulled out a pen from his pocket and slid it to Peter.

Peter slowly moved his finger along the edge of the historical book. “I’m very aware of this tradition, and am honored to sign.” His note needed to be directed to Yuri Gagarin, the first man in space. He carefully opened the fragile book. He slowly flipped through the pages, scanning a few entries.

Dmitri had a mischievous grin as he pointed to the book. “Go ahead and turn to the last page.”

Peter flipped to the final page of entries. A chill ran through his body when he saw the top note. He slowly rubbed his finger over the dried ink as he read it to himself.

I fly as a cosmonaut in honor of a friend and ask for your guidance. See you and Maria soon. Viktor Alexandrov.

A twinge of sadness shot through Peter, knowing Viktor signed this before going on their flight. He was proud to see that Viktor honored Peter’s father. “Your dad never told me about this. You can see our fathers were close.”

“Just like we are.”

Peter smiled. “Yes, like us.” He picked up the pen and gently rolled it between two fingers. Since the page Viktor signed was filled with the signings of the men on the current mission, he needed to write on the next empty page, directly across from his old partner’s quote. He flipped the pen over and began to write with certainty.

I am honored to sign next to such a courageous and superior cosmonaut, whom I was lucky to fly with. I ask you and Viktor for your guidance and blessing. Peter Novak

Peter admired his words for a second before sliding the book back to Dmitri.

Dmitri studied the entry. “Very nice.” He gently closed the book and put it to the side. His demeanor changed and his voice was suffused with a sense of urgency. “Now we need to get down to business. So do you have any questions?”

Peter turned to a certain page in his file. Since the cosmonauts would be breathing a nitrogen/oxygen mixture in the Soyuz, he had some worries. “I’m concerned about decompression sickness setting in with the cosmonauts during the transfer.”

“We’re concerned too. As you have read, the pressure in their flight suits needs to be reduced to 3.9 psi to permit three men in suits to fit into the Orbital Module and allow for the flexibility to move around and handle the rescue. We figure they have about forty minutes at this lower pressure before decompression sickness kicks in. Of course, the clock starts when they close their visors and start depressurizing the spacecraft, which should take eighteen minutes before their hatch is open. Once safely in your spacecraft, they can immediately hook up to the oxygen units provided by the ISS to increase their pressure. The order you will save them is flight engineer, tourist, and then the commander. We don’t want Carlos by himself.”

Peter remembered the difficulties of moving in space. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. “That will be tough, transferring them one at a time.” He figured even if everything went smoothly, it would be tight to transfer all three separately in less than twenty-two minutes, and if time ran out, the commander would be the one to experience the sickness.

Dmitri squinted hard as he took a deep breath. “We have no choice. Unfortunately, that will not be your only time constraint. Each man will stay hooked up to the Soyuz’s air supply until their turn to leave. When they disconnect, their only air will be what’s remaining in their suit. Depending on how calm they are, we estimate this to be in the range of six to eight minutes.”

Peter put a hand around his chin and squeezed. “Wow, transfer each in six minutes.” That would be a challenge. “I’ll rely on the commander to keep me abreast of the time.”

Dmitri shook his head. “Sorry, there was not enough time to modify the Skylab suit’s connections to allow you to hook up our snoopy cap. You will not be able to communicate with the men.”

Peter straightened up in his chair. “Will I be able to communicate with mission control?”

Dmitri answered in a matter of fact tone. “No, not during the rescue.”

The mission was getting trickier. “What about the oxygen supply in my suit?”

“There were two small oxygen packs supplied by NASA on the plane you arrived in. These, along with your spacesuit, are being prepared as we speak. These packs attach to your leg. Both you and Alex will do a decompression and prebreathe pure oxygen for an hour before docking with the ISS, using the ship’s oxygen supply by means of a strapped on air mask. You will use one of the small oxygen packs for your transfer to the ISS and the other for the rescue. We figure each should give you about sixty minutes of oxygen. You should have as much as thirty minutes left over in the first pack that can be stored in Galileo and used if needed. You will be hooked up to Galileo’s pure oxygen supply when flying over to the damaged spacecraft.”

“Is the spacecraft spinning?” Peter knew any explosion would start a spacecraft rotating in some gyration, adding to the complexities of saving the men.

“No. We were able to stabilize the craft.”

“Good. Dealing with a tumbling Soyuz would have been a trick. How about the SAFER?”

“Two ISS astronauts should be doing a spacewalk now, attaching it on the outside of the Galileo. You will be able—”

Dmitri was interrupted by a hard knock at the door. Peter turned around to see the door swing open and reveal a middle-aged Russian in a blue FKA jump suit standing there. The reflected sunlight in the hall highlighted the man’s sun damaged face outlined by sloppily groomed salt and pepper hair with a bushy mustache sitting on a grin. The short man entered and went directly to Peter, extending his hand. “Hello, Peter.”

Peter stood. Chumakov written on the man’s pocket confirmed this was his pilot. Peter firmly grabbed the man’s hand. “Hello, Aleksandr.”

“Call me Alex.” While still holding his hand, Alex gave him a solid pat on the arm. “It is honor to fly with you.”

Peter bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, but the honor is all mine. I know you are one of FKA’s best.”

Alex smiled as he let go of Peter’s hand. “I know Viktor a long time. You two do special mission together, flying Soyuz to moon.”

With his thick Russian accent, Alex reminded Peter of Viktor. “I was honored to fly with Viktor, and I was very impressed with the Soyuz.”

Dmitri interjected. “Gentlemen, have a seat.” As the two sat, he continued. “Alex, how did your medical check go?”

“All fine. I live another fifty years. Are we still on schedule?”

“Yes.” Dmitri did not take his gaze off Alex. “Due to the rush of this mission, and the fact Peter doesn’t speak Russian, Capcom will speak English.”

A surprised look flashed on Alex’s face. All past Soyuz missions launched from Baikonur had been in their native language. Peter glanced down at his watch. He estimated the stranded cosmonauts had a little less than twenty-six hours of time left. He interjected. “When should we arrive at the space station?”

“In order to get you two to the ISS as soon as possible, Alex will fly into a higher orbit and brake, allowing the station to catch you. Though this is the method we plan on using next year, it’s still an undeveloped technique. We calculate it will take about six hours.”

Peter was impressed at the short duration.

A slight smirk appeared on Dmitri’s face. “And this time Boris will be expecting you.”

Peter smiled, remembering the harsh welcome he had received from the ISS commander on his last mission. He started rolling Dmitri’s pen between his fingers. “How much time do you estimate we’ll have after we arrive at the station to pull off the rescue?”

“After undocking the Galileo, if all goes according to plan, you’ll have about seven hours to rescue the men.”

“Any idea how long before I rendezvous with them?”

“We estimate about four hours.”

“Damn, that’s cutting it close.”

“Yes. Therefore, we cannot afford any mistakes. Everything must go as planned.”

Alex interjected with confidence. “Not worry. We carry out mission as plan.”

Peter smiled as he looked at Alex. He was sounding more and more like Viktor.

THE SUIT TECHNICIAN finished attaching Peter’s gloves to his spacesuit and spoke with a slight Russian accent. “How feel?”

Peter moved his hands around. Though the gloves were a little roomy, he was satisfied they wouldn’t cause a problem. “They’re fine.”

“Before put helmet on and pressure test suit, please walk around, let’s see all okay.”

Peter nodded and started to get up out of the chair. Seeing he was struggling, the suit technician reached down and helped him up. Once standing, Peter first started moving his arms around. He then rotated his body from side to side. He felt like the robot from Lost In Space as he continued moving his arms. “Danger, danger, Will Robinson.”

The suit tech gave him a questioning look. “Be there a problem?”

Peter smiled. He had to remind himself he was with the Russians. “Sorry, everything’s fine. Just an old American television show.”

Peter was expecting a heavy, bulky suit, but was amazed as he started to walk around. For a forty-year-old design, the suit was surprisingly light. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a distant, familiar image. He turned to see a full-length mirror about twenty feet away. Chills ran down his body as he stared. The Skylab suit was basically the same as Apollo’s. It was as if he was looking back in time at his dad. How do I look, Dad? At this distance, he was unable to read the mission patch or name, but there was no mistaking the big American flag on his arm. The stars and stripes stood out proudly on the white spacesuit. A sense of pride came over him as he walked toward the mirror. Soon he was able to read Robinson. His smile widened when he saw the triangular light blue mission patch with its big number three plastered off center signifying they were the third and final crew to visit the Skylab space station. He remembered his dad teasing Dusty, insisting they should have put the number four since it was actually the fourth rocket in the Skylab program. The first rocket was the massive Saturn V that put the unmanned station into space. Three smaller Saturn 1B rockets followed with the crews. Some of the press initially labeled those rockets as two, three and four, causing confusion over the correct designation for years.

“How she feel?”

Peter turned. “Oh, feels great.”

The technician pointed back to his seat. “Good. Time we pressure test it.”

As they started back, Dmitri entered the room and came right toward them. Dmitri’s eyes widened as he approached. “Wow, you look just like your dad.”

Peter stopped. “I know, I thought the same thing.”

Dmitri shook his head. “Amazing. So how does it feel?”

“Great. Fits perfect.”

“Good.” Dmitri began to reach into his pocket. “I have something for you.” He pulled out a picture.

Peter opened his gloved hand to receive it. Dmitri placed a picture of Anya in the center.

“She asked me to give this to you. She doesn’t want you to forget her.”

No way was Peter going to forget the love of his life. He gazed at the picture. Anya’s beautiful face was outlined by her gorgeous jet-black hair, which flowed over a formal purple dress.

“It was taken at my wedding. I had it on my desk.” Dmitri motioned to the picture. “I had Velcro put on the back.”

Peter was happy to have her along for the ride.

7

“SAVE US!”

Sitting in the commander’s center seat of the tight Soyuz, Alex was meticulously going through the many system checks required to prepare their ship for launch. Peter had finished his system checks in the left co-pilot seat and was now reviewing the binder that explained the re-entry procedures needed to bring Galileo home. He was far from being an expert on the operation since the moon mission did not require returning the craft. Only if they had an emergency during launch would he have had to immediately turn back and return to Earth. As a result, he had limited training at SpaceQuest on the process. He needed to take advantage of every spare moment. Peter felt a nudge on his leg. Lying on his back with his legs strapped in so his feet were up to his butt, he tried to lift his head to see his partner. Regrettably the Skylab helmet did not rotate, and even with his visor up he could not see Alex over the parachutes stuffed around them.

“Mission control now do their checks. We have moment of peace. You should take advantage. Not much time to rest later.”

Peter set the Galileo manual on his stomach. The countdown clock on his computer screen showed they had a little over an hour before launch. It was tough to relax knowing every passing minute was inching the stranded cosmonauts closer to death. Nevertheless, orbital mechanics could not be manipulated. They had no choice but to wait until they were in the International Space Station’s exact orbit before launching, which happened only twice a day, allowing for a mere five-minute window each time. Though waiting was making him anxious, Alex was probably right. It might be his only time to rest, and a mental break would probably do him good. They had been working nonstop since boarding. Peter saw Alex’s arm extend upward as he hung a small colorful stuffed bear off a knob on the control panel above them. Peter smiled as Alex lightly spun the suspended toy.

“My son give me. It tell when we in space.”

“How old is your son?”

“Mikhail seventeen. On my first mission he five. He pick out toy for me. He do for all my missions. Be our tradition and bring me luck.”

“Do you have any other kids?”

“I have four. Mikhail is youngest, then son 19, daughter 22 and son 24.”

“Wow, big family.”

“Yes. Keep wife busy. You have kids?”

A sinking sensation stung at Peter as he thought of Anya and the baby. “No, but maybe someday.” Peter reached down to a Velcro closed pocket on his spacesuit leg and ripped it open. With his gloved hand, he fiddled around until he found what he was looking for, Anya’s picture. He pulled it out and looked at it for a while. He thought back to the last time he was in a Soyuz with her picture. Then he had been certain he would die. He thanked God for saving him. He spotted some Velcro on the spacecraft wall to his left, but instead elected to attach the picture to a clip on the control panel in front of him.

“She pretty. Is that not Viktor’s daughter?”

Peter proudly smiled as he stared at the picture. “It is.”

“Dmitri tell me of you two. She good kid. You lucky. Viktor work with your dad on US/USSR mission of ’70s, yes?”

Peter relaxed his neck muscles allowing his head to fall back against the back of his helmet. “They did. Dad was backup. That is how I got to know Dmitri. He and I became childhood friends while playing at Star City over a summer when our dads trained together.”

“I sorry your dad pass away. He was great astronaut, and thanks to you, the world knows he walk on moon.”

Peter smiled as the image of his initials carved in the lunar dust flashed through his mind. “Thanks. He was also a great father.”

“I saw your suit say Robinson. Is that same astronaut who walk on moon with your dad?”

“It is.”

“I shut my eyes now.”

Peter smiled. With the muffled noise of the rocket breathing outside, he calmly closed his eyes and drifted off.

Peter was a small boy as he tried to hold on as his body slid side to side across the black leather passenger seat of the 1972 silver convertible Corvette. This was Peter’s first time riding in the new car as his dad raced Dusty Robinson in his matching Vette down NASA 1. All three members of his dad’s crew received identical cars from the local dealer, the only differences being the color of the stripe on each hood and their official abbreviation of their crew position painted just under the doorknob. His dad’s had CDR for commander and a blue stripe.

With the top and all the windows down, Peter was getting the full experience of raw speed as the erratic wind blew wildly inside the car, and he loved it. The seven-year-old curled both hands on the top of the door and lifted up as far as the lap belt would allow so he could see over at his dad’s partner speeding next to them. The late afternoon sun shone off the shiny car with its red stripe. Dusty was laughing as he did a cocky wave before making a daring move, cutting off Peter’s father. “Dad, catch him!”

With one hand on the wheel and the other expertly working the stick, his dad calmly said, “Son, we want to be safe about this.” He then swiftly downshifted and the engine roared as he yelled out, “But don’t worry, I’ll catch him.” The tires screeched as he swerved over into the other lane before gunning the car and passing up his friend. He lifted his hand high in the air and waved back to his lunar module pilot as he shouted out, “That’s how the commander drives, son.”

Peter was excited to be tagging along with his dad and Dusty on a public relations visit on behalf of NASA to the Astrodome. Peter’s hero, Evel Knievel, was in town to jump thirteen cars with his powerful motorcycle. As much as he admired Evel, seeing his dad in his NASA issued gold sunglasses looking cool convinced him he wanted to be an astronaut just like his father.

Once in the Astrodome, Peter couldn’t believe how much great food was all around in the nicely decorated hall. Evel wasn’t scheduled to jump for awhile, and before taking their seats his dad said he needed to shake some hands. Peter was being introduced to a lot of people, but all he wanted to do was have a Coke and try some of the great looking desserts. “Daddy, can I have something to eat?”

His dad was busy talking to a gentleman dressed in a coat and tie and he didn’t answer. Peter tried pulling on his father’s pants to get his attention, but no luck. Dusty finally bent down and whispered. “Your dad is talking to a very important man. How about I take you to get something?”

Peter perked up. “Okay.”

Dusty grabbed his small hand and escorted him toward the table with soups and salads, passing by many folks who said hello. Once at the table Peter shook his head and pointed toward the desserts. “Can we start over there?”

Dusty looked in the direction of the dessert table before looking back down with one eyebrow raised. “Peter, you need to eat something healthy before having some dessert.”

His mom made him eat a peanut butter sandwich before leaving. However, he knew his dad wouldn’t allow him to go straight to the desserts, but maybe he could convince Dusty he already had a full meal. “Mr. Robinson, I already ate dinner. Mom fed me.”

Dusty looked toward his dad, as if trying to get his attention. Peter didn’t wait and pulled Dusty toward the dessert table. The astronaut reluctantly followed. As Peter approached the massive display of desserts, he was completely in awe. He simply didn’t know where to start. There were all kinds of cakes, pies, and even a container sitting in ice filled with vanilla ice cream.

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 cross 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…”

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.

He looked ahead and did one last assessment of his position. He felt confident he was pointed in the right direction. With caution, he pushed the control stick lightly forward. The thrusters fired, propelling him in a leisurely way toward the ship. Soon after leaving, he pulled the joystick back into the neutral position, allowing his momentum to carry him toward the Soyuz. He didn’t want to fly out of control like he did the last time he flew the device.

As the silhouette of a spaceman emerged from the wounded spacecraft, the sun’s reflection bounced off the cosmonaut’s outer golden visor. Peter was transfixed at the iconic scene unfolding in front of him as he drew near. The helpless man in the white Russian spacesuit was now sticking halfway out of the opening, surrounded by a sea of darkness. He feebly waved in Peter’s direction. Though Peter was all alone to pull off this rescue, he felt the world’s presence as the vibrant planet slowly rotated below him. He shot a quick glance down at the robust colors that represented life. I’m getting us all back.

9

CRAZY FOOL

After reaching the damaged Soyuz, Peter parked cautiously next to the ship’s entrance. He had flipped open his sun visor to help communicate with the cosmonaut poking out of the spacecraft’s exit. With the cosmonaut keeping his sun visor closed, Peter was unable to determine if this man was the flight engineer who was scheduled to go first. Incapable of spotting a name on the spaceman’s suit or being able to verbally confirm who it was, he had to assume this was the right guy. Peter grabbed a handhold closer to the exit and pulled, causing the SAFER to bang against the ship, ripping some of the insulation. He wasn’t concerned about the wounded spacecraft, but had to make sure not to damage his ride. He hooked a tether line through a handhold before securing the machine tightly to the Soyuz. He grabbed another cord that needed to be attached to the Russian. As he held out the line to the cosmonaut, he saw his reflection in the visor and instantly thought of his dad. The image reminded him of his dad’s favorite picture from his Gemini spacewalk. A smile shot across his face. Thinking of you too, Dad. Help me not screw this thing up.

The cosmonaut grabbed the line’s clasp, clipping it to a metal ring on his suit, insuring he would go wherever Peter went. The plan was for the Russian to climb onto Peter and hug him from the front, wrapping his arms tightly around for the transfer. It was the cosmonaut’s responsibility to hold on while Peter flew them over to the Galileo. None of the spacemen had any training for such a dangerous maneuver. These men were the first ever to be rescued in Earth’s orbit and Peter puzzled over exactly how it would all work out.

The cosmonaut gave Peter a thumbs-up, signaling he was ready. Peter motioned for the man to exit toward him. The cosmonaut unhooked his lifeline from the spacecraft, cutting off his air supply. He was now breathing only the remaining oxygen in his suit. Peter’s heart rate jumped, knowing he had little room for error. He had to get this man over to the Galileo as soon as possible so he could hook him up to one of the Russian oxygen packs on board. Peter extended his arm to help the man egress. As the cosmonaut floated out, Peter was startled to see a gloved hand quickly jut out from the darkness of the Soyuz and aggressively grab a hold of one of the engineer’s legs. Peter figured it was the commander stopping his partner for some reason. He motioned for the cosmonaut to stop, but instead was shocked to see the engineer shake his leg violently, trying to break free of the grasp. Not able to hear any radio transmissions, Peter was confused by the action. The helmet of the culprit finally emerged with his sun visor up. Peter cringed as he looked into a pair of wide-open, dark eyes filled with terror. A bulging, red face filled the helmet as the man appeared to be screaming, sweat pooling in all areas. Peter quickly determined it was the tourist panicking. Quickly Peter tried to give him some assurance everything would be all right by putting both hands up and motioning for him to stay put. Calm down, dude, or none of us are going to make it out of here.

Another arm came out and tried to pull in the frightened man. After a few seconds of struggling, the engineer was able to break his leg free and pull himself toward Peter. Damn, what was all that about? Peter was frustrated he couldn’t verbally communicate with the men.

Peter signaled for the cosmonaut to stop while he turned on the SAFER and removed the tether line from the Soyuz. Once the line was free, he shut his sun visor and motioned for the engineer to climb on as he held the handhold with his right hand. Peter was unable to help as the cosmonaut struggled to hold onto the ship. He smiled; the man had to wiggle his body against Peter’s in order to wrap his arms and legs securely around him in a big bear hug, his visor pressed up against Peter’s. I love you too, man.

Once the engineer was in place, Peter pushed off from the ship. Then panic set in. He couldn’t see Galileo. He was faced in the direction of deep space with the Earth behind him and had no idea how his push changed their bearing. The cosmonaut’s helmet was blocking half of his vision on the left side, which was where he assumed his spaceship was. The Russian also blocked Peter from seeing the controls, preventing him from getting help from the directional indicator. He expected the SAFER to fly differently with the extra mass; he just wasn’t sure how different. Regardless, he had no choice but to fly the contraption blindly until his ship came into view. He slowly moved his gloved hand along the machine’s arm, until his fingers found and grabbed the joystick.

Instinctively, he called out in his helmet, “Hold on.”

Peter pushed the control slightly forward and to the left, causing them to turn left and hopefully put them in the direction of his ship. Once the Soyuz was out of his vision, he had no reference points to know how fast he was going or if they were flying level. All he saw was complete blackness with thousands of tiny stars that all looked the same. He had to wish for the best as he continued to fly by the seat of his pants. After a few moments, he started to get nervous, knowing his ship should have come into view if he was flying as expected. Come on, baby, where the hell are you?

Peter was moving his head all around, trying to spot the ship. The longer he flew without finding it, the more lost they would be, possibly dying in the search. He tried moving the stick in another direction thinking he must have flown either under or over the ship. He frantically turned his head in all directions. He called out, “Where the hell are you?” He wondered if the engineer had any idea where Galileo was since he could see where Peter couldn’t, not that it would help since they couldn’t communicate. The pressure was building to find the spacecraft since time was ticking on the cosmonaut’s slim air supply.

A strong nudge on his side felt as if the cosmonaut was signaling him. I hope you’re trying to tell me something. It felt like a thumb was being jammed in an upward position into his suit. Peter hoped the engineer could see the ship and was signaling its location. He pulled back on the control, hoping to stop his momentum until he could figure out where he needed to go. Knowing where the engineer was facing and pointing, he presumed he had a good idea.

Sweat began to pool on his face. Peter, you can do this; focus.

He moved the stick into the position he hoped would allow him to locate the ship. He presumed they were turning and going up, in a slow corkscrew motion. The engineer’s thumb pressure rotated slightly to his left. Hoping the man was giving him some kind of clue, Peter looked in that direction. He needed to spot the ship before they were too close to avoid hitting one of the ship’s solar arrays. Suddenly he felt all of the cosmonaut’s fingers jam into his side. He wasn’t sure what this meant until a shadow began to creep across the cosmonaut’s upper shoulder and then his helmet toward his visor, which had to be one of the two ships. Please be Galileo! He pulled back on the stick, trying not to crash into the ship, but he was too late. When it came into view, they were only a few feet away and moving. Damn it, not again!

The engineer tightened his grip, signaling he was aware they would hit. Sorry, buddy. As before, Peter turned his head prior to slamming into the underbelly of the ship. Bam!

Surprisingly, the impact wasn’t bad. Probably the worst part was the damage to his ego. I’ve got to stop crashing this thing. The good news was he crashed into Galileo. He would really feel like an idiot if they had done a big circle in space and crashed back into the Soyuz. Peter brushed off his ego.

Unfortunately, his little tour of space used up some of the engineer’s precious air supply. He probably had only a few minutes left. Peter grabbed a handhold as the cosmonaut started to scramble off. Luckily, they were within a few feet of the opened hatch. The engineer reached another handhold before unhooking the tether line. He gave Peter a hasty thumbs-up before turning and scrambling like a spider along the spacecraft to the opening. Peter saluted the man as he spoke out in his helmet. “Thanks for flying Novak Airlines.” He shook his head, dislodging pooled sweat. One down, two to go. Now for the crazy nut.

Peter turned the SAFER around to reposition himself toward the Soyuz while continuing to hold onto the ship. His jaw dropped when he saw one of the cosmonauts on the outside of the Soyuz in a crouched position holding onto an antenna while the other one was frantically trying to wave him back in. It was obvious the lunatic was Carlos. “What the hell is he doing?”

Peter’s eyes widened when he realized the tourist was positioning himself to jump toward the Galileo. He remembered how difficult it was to get an accurate push and yelled out, “Don’t do it!”

The tourist looked to aim in his direction before letting go of the antenna and extending his arms like Superman, pushing off with his legs. Peter screamed out, “Shit, no!”

The tourist’s vector was completely off, and he started floating away from the Galileo. “Damn it!”

Peter had to make a quick decision as he watched the tourist hysterically swing his arms, trying to change his course, which Peter knew wouldn’t happen. He was concerned how long it would take to retrieve the fleeing spaceman, doubting Carlos would even have enough air in his suit to survive. Chasing down the crazy man could risk killing them all, and if there was one thing he learned from the moon mission, he had too much to live for. The commander pointed toward Carlos. Peter thought for a second before making his decision. He reciprocated by also pointing toward the floating spaceman, but he brought his hand to his neck, doing a “cut throat” signal.

ALL HELL WAS breaking loose in the FKA control room. Dmitri had just witnessed his sister being carried out on a stretcher while he was dealing with a hysterical idiot who just tried to jump from their spacecraft to the Galileo. Now the crazy fool was floating aimlessly in space.

Mission Control’s only remaining line of communication was with Sergei, who was still keeping his cool as he kept them abreast of the situation. “Am…ican signaled to cut Car…s loose. How sh…ld I respond, over?”

Dmitri slammed his fist on his desk. “No! Under no circumstance do you let him float away. Signal Peter he must go after Carlos, now!”

The commander coolly answered, “Roger.”

IT TOOK PETER longer than expected to reach the lost tourist even though he flew the jetpack at full speed. As he approached from behind, he was surprised to see Carlos still erratically flailing his arms and legs. He shook his head. Dumbass, all you’re doing is eating up your oxygen.

Peter wondered if he could successfully capture the out-of-control man. He had to be careful not to get hit or kicked, possibly damaging his spacesuit. He also had to make certain the man did not grab at any of his life support hoses. He shook his head in his helmet. This is a bad idea.

His best option was to ram into the man from behind and catch him off guard. This was the one time he wanted to crash the SAFER. Peter pulled back on the joystick, slowing the jets as he drew near. His aim looked to be dead on. His hope was Carlos would calm down once he was in his grasp. When Peter was ten feet away, he extended his arms and legs like an eagle preparing to snatch its prey. Right before impact, he lifted his left leg to miss a kicking leg as his right leg made contact. His pelvis slammed hard into Carlos’s upper back before he quickly wrapped both legs tightly around the upper body, insuring not to lose his catch. The impact put the tandem into a slow spin.

Peter immediately crossed and locked his ankles in front of Carlos’s chest while the idiot continued to swing and kick. Because Carlos was not cooperating, Peter could not move him up and attach a tether line. Dude, you’re not making this easy. Fortunately, the jetpack’s metal arms were protecting him from being hit by a swinging arm.

He now had to get out of the spin, which would be a trick. On the plus side, with the back of Carlos’s helmet in his gut and his wild arms below the machine’s control panel, Peter had no obstruction blocking either his view or the controls. Come on, Peter, you can do this.

He had to use all of his piloting skills as he delicately worked the stick, gradually gaining control with each movement until he was able to stop the spin. Feeling proud of himself, he blurted out, “How about that?”

They were now upside down in relation to Earth. Peter looked ahead and saw both ships, each with a cosmonaut hanging out looking in his direction. The Galileo appeared to be about two hundred yards away. Carlos’s body had gone limp. Don’t die on me now, dude. Peter assumed he must have passed out due to the lack of oxygen. He quickly put the machine into gear and raced back to his ship.

ANYA’S VISION WAS blurry when she first opened her eyes. She was initially confused about where she was and what had happened. Someone looking down at her spoke. She lifted her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes. When she refocused, her vision was clearer. Right away, she realized she was in Medical, and the man standing over her was a doctor. To her right, a nurse.

“What happened?”

The doctor spoke with a calming voice. “You had an anxiety attack.”

Anya looked away at a bare gray wall, trying to clear her head and piece together those last moments. She remembered sitting at a desk in mission control listening to the rescue of the cosmonauts. Her last memory was hearing Peter was outside of his spacecraft before she started to feel like she was having a heart attack. Instantly she wondered how Peter was. “Have the cosmonauts been saved?”

“The rescue is happening right now.”

Anya ripped off the thin sheet and started to rise up from the bed, destined for the control room. The doctor put his hand on her shoulder, his voice strong. “You’re not going anywhere, young lady.”

Anya ignored the doctor as she continued to sit up in the bed, fighting the dizziness. “I need to get back to mission control. Peter needs me.”

The doctor applied more force to prevent Anya from getting off the bed. “You are staying right here. We don’t want you having another attack. Besides, there’s nothing you can do for those men.”

Anya pushed the doctor’s hand off her. “Let me out of here.”

The doctor aggressively grabbed her shoulders before she felt a sharp prick in her arm. She turned to see the nurse had inserted a needle and was injecting something. “What’s that?”

The doctor’s voice answered soothingly, “Something to calm you down and help you rest.”

She continued to resist, but she was easily losing the battle as her body began to feel weak. Her vision became foggy again as she tried to fight the drug now coursing through her bloodstream. She started to slur her words. “Peter needs me. I need to…” Her whole body went limp as she fell back on the pillow, everything going dark.

OVER THE LAST few minutes, Sergei had been making random and confusing statements, which alarmed Dmitri. After hearing the resilient cosmonaut complain of sharp pains in his shoulders, he was convinced the commander was experiencing the first stages of decompression sickness.

“I feel like a thou…nd tiny insects cra…ling all over my body.”

Skin irritation was a classic symptom of the sickness. Dmitri’s immediate concern was the cosmonaut vomiting in his spacesuit, which could be lethal. “Sergei, you are experiencing decompression sickness. Where is Peter?”

“What?”

“Has Peter reached Carlos?”

“I not h… you, repeat.”

Dmitri spoke louder and slower. “Has the American rescued Carlos?”

The only sound coming through the speakers was heavy breathing with short grunts. Dmitri was getting ready to repeat the question before he heard, “Roger. They are in transit b… to the ship.”

PETER HAD SUCCESSFULLY handed over the unconscious tourist to the engineer, who had been waiting at Galileo’s exit. It was now up to the engineer to get Carlos hooked up to his oxygen pack and attempt to revive him. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late.

Peter needed to focus on saving the commander. His heart rate doubled when he looked down at his air supply indicator and saw a red flashing light signaling he was running low on oxygen. “Damn it!”

He had no idea how long the light had been flashing, and the suit’s setup did not allow him to get an accurate reading on the remaining amount. He had roughly twelve minutes of air left in the other Skylab oxygen pack sitting inside the ship, which he needed for pressurizing the cabin if his current air supply ran out. He was forced to make a gut-wrenching decision—does he save the commander or not?

Peter looked out at the helpless cosmonaut sticking out of the abandoned spacecraft. He did not know the man, yet he was a fellow spaceman. Regardless, he had to remind himself he had a responsibility to the two men in his ship, and saving two lives was better than saving none. He also thought of Anya and his love for her.

He closed his eyes briefly and saw Viktor in his mind. The old cosmonaut was standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Peter opened his eyes. Damn it. You’re right.

Peter pushed off the Galileo and hauled ass toward the damaged spacecraft. “Either we all die or we all live.”

A SURGE OF adrenaline shot through Peter as the commander dangled from his legs. Peter’s body was screaming for oxygen as he used his legs to clutch the slipping cosmonaut while they raced back to the Galileo. Sergei started off in the right hugging position when they left the Soyuz, but for some reason he had been slowly sliding down Peter’s body. Due to the rush to get them both connected to oxygen on the ship, he elected not take time to attach a tether line to the cosmonaut before departing the Soyuz, which was looking like a bad choice. If Sergei slipped off, he would undoubtedly float away from Peter into deep space. Peter would have no alternative but to cut the commander loose due to his thinning air supply.

Peter was starting to feel lightheaded due to the lack of oxygen. He tried not to panic. He struggled to zero in on the approaching Galileo. The engineer was hanging out of the entryway waiting to help. Peter’s plan was to come in high so the engineer could grab the commander. Sweat was pooling around his eyes. He quickly blinked to dislodge the droplets impacting his view. Peter was coming in hot and he had only one chance at getting this right. He could not afford to have the engineer miss grabbing the commander.

Peter’s aim looked to be slightly off. He was forced to make a course adjustment, firing the thrusters at 90 degrees to the direction of travel, preventing him from using them to slow down. He had no choice; he accepted the fact he would once again crash into the ship. He made the adjustment, lowering their trajectory. Peter’s heart was pounding out of his chest because the commander’s grip had slipped all the way down to his boots. Peter called out in his helmet, “Come on, Sergei, hold on!”

Ten feet out, Peter saw the engineer spread out his arms, giving him a large target. Once he was satisfied with their aim, Peter pulled back on the control stick. In the last few feet, he used his remaining strength to raise his legs to put the commander in the best possible position to be snatched. As he started to pass over the engineer, his direction changed due to a slight pull by Sergei before he let go of his legs, signaling he must have been snatched by the engineer. Peter’s change of direction sent him crashing into the ship.

10

ABOUT TIME

A nasty stench lingered in the sun-drenched cabin of the Galileo. Ever since removing their helmets, Peter had been overcome by the body odor of the three other men with their scraggly faces, who had been in their flight suit for days. He blocked out the unpleasant smell as he prepared their spacecraft for re-entry. Though all four men were alive and returning home, they were exhausted. All the spacemen were feeling the after effects from the rescue, especially Sergei. Peter was happy he took the calculated risk of saving the commander, even though the Russian was experiencing severe symptoms from decompression sickness. Peter had to block out the commotion going on around him while he studied the monitors, double-checking that their re-entry into the atmosphere was going as planned and at the proper angle.

Peter radioed in a raspy voice to SpaceQuest’s mission control which was handling the re-entry. “California, velocity is 33,578 feet per second.”

“Roger, Galileo. We will have you for about seven more minutes before blackout. How do your coordinates look?”

Moisture returned to Peter’s palms and the perspiration welled up on his forehead as he prepared for another fiery re-entry. At least this time he would be landing in friendly international waters instead of a communist country with soldiers waiting. His demeanor stayed steady as he answered, “Copy that, California. We look to be going right down the middle of the corridor.”

“We concur, Galileo. Looking good.”

Peter was stone-faced as he continued to review the information developing on the monitors. This was the first manned re-entry for SpaceQuest, and he wanted to make sure they got it right. If their ship was just a few degrees off on their angle of attack, they would skip right off the atmosphere, like the many rocks he used to skip off Clear Lake as a boy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Sergei’s body once again go into convulsions. Peter’s heart sank, as it was the third seizure for the cosmonaut since being rescued. Every muscle in the cosmonaut’s body appeared to be contracting simultaneously as he arched his back off the seat, his body fighting the straps that kept him secure. Peter quickly looked over to see the cosmonaut’s eyes darting about, as if he was possessed. The worried engineer shoved a small towel in the commander’s mouth, hoping to prevent him from biting his tongue. A sinking sensation overtook Peter as he witnessed the disturbing scene. Regrettably, there wasn’t much anyone could do except try to comfort the tough cosmonaut until they were back on Earth. The ship that would retrieve them had a hyperbaric chamber where the commander would immediately be placed to recompress. Peter prayed it wouldn’t be too late.

Sitting next to Peter was the spoiled ass tourist who regained consciousness soon after he was saved. To Peter’s dismay, the madman hadn’t stopped bitching since. The man turned away from the shaking commander and looked Peter square in the eye. With no expression, he coldly said, “I better not have to pay for this fucked-up trip.”

Peter couldn’t take it anymore. He cut his mic to mission control. “Shut up, asshole.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? I demand respect.”

Peter’s fist tightened. “Are you serious? Your commander is having a seizure next to you, and all you care about is money? Dude, you’re lucky to be alive, and you better hope you stay that way. So stop your bitching and prepare for re-entry.” Peter yanked out the man’s headset cord from the ship’s connection, making sure he didn’t have to listen to the asshole over his headset.

All four men had snoopy caps on with their helmets off, breathing the cabin air since their oxygen hoses did not link up to the spacecraft’s connections. If they were to lose cabin pressure, they would all be in trouble.

“Galileo, California. Forty-five seconds until blackout. Please reset the two blue circuit breakers under and to the left of the pilot’s monitor. Punch those in. Over.”

Peter scrambled to locate the breakers before the blackout hit. Once located, he hurriedly pushed them in with a grunt of relief. “Roger, breakers reset.”

“Good job. You’re going over the hill shortly. You’re looking mighty fine to us.”

“Copy that. Talk to you on the flip side.” Peter called out to the crew. “Gentleman, prepare for re-entry.” Peter looked over to see Sergei’s seizure had subsided. He said a quick prayer for the man before he braced himself for another violent re-entry. He closed his eyes and thought of Anya.

“WHAT’S THE LATEST on the space rescue?” President Edward’s fine age lines were starting to appear around his youthful eyes. Jack was called to the Oval Office to inform the President whether the cosmonauts had been saved.

“Sir, Peter was able to rescue all three men and they are currently in the SpaceQuest spacecraft. They should be going through re-entry at any moment, probably splashing down in the Pacific off California within the next ten minutes.”

The President’s face relaxed as he leaned back in his chair. “If it looks like they’re going to make it back safely, maybe we should let the world know of the rescue.”

“Mr. President, NASA is concerned that going public will lead to the Soyuz being grounded. Maybe we let Russia make that call.”

President Edwards instantly picked up the phone. With a quick push of a button, he had his assistant on the phone. “Mary, get me Russia’s prime minister on the phone immediately.”

PETER FELT LIKE he was inside a neon light bulb as their cabin took on an eerie glow. Galileo was now a fireball falling to earth, their communication cut off from mission control. Carlos was screaming like a baby as the g-forces increased. His cries penetrated through Peter’s snoopy cap, even over the roar that engulfed the cabin. Peter rolled his eyes, wondering how this asshole had qualified for a ride to the ISS.

Intense flames surrounded their ship as they entered the dense atmosphere. The deceleration was driving Peter deep into his seat. He held on tightly to his armrests, trying to reduce the shaking. Lifting his head was like moving a cinder block with his neck muscles. He tilted his head just enough to get a g-force reading. The indicator showed 5.5 g and holding. After experiencing 9 g without a re-entry suit, this was a walk in the park. Though he didn’t expect the g-force to get much worse, part of him wished it would if it would knock Carlos out.

After four minutes of radio blackout and listening to Carlos whine the whole time, Peter heard mission control call in over his headset. “Galileo, this is California. Do you copy?”

Before he could answer, a soft muffled explosion rang through the cabin, which he hoped was the deployment of their drogue parachutes. Sure enough, a few seconds later the spacecraft did a hard jolt. Peter exhaled. “California, this is Galileo, drogue chutes deployed.”

“Roger.”

Soon a louder explosion took place above their heads, a sign the main parachutes were being let loose. After a few moments, a strong tug slowed them before their ship started to sway side to side. “California, main chutes deployed.”

“Copy that, Galileo. Good job, men.” A loud cheer came over his headset. He smiled, knowing the historical importance of what just happened. SpaceQuest achieved a feat that many thought wouldn’t happen for years by a commercial company, bringing men back from space safely. He figured they just solidified their lead on getting NASA’s future contract taking astronauts to the space station.

Peter looked over at Carlos to see his eyes bulging out of their sockets while his face was as white as a ghost. Peter couldn’t contain himself as he covered his mic. “How’s our little baby doing?”

The frightened little man didn’t say a word.

AFTER THE COSMONAUTS returned safely to Earth, Dmitri hustled over to Medical to check on his sister. With all the commotion going on when she passed out, he was unable to help or be by her side. As he swung open the door to the small checkup room, he saw Anya on one of the two beds with an IV coming out of her left arm. She was still in her clothes, sitting propped up by two fluffy pillows, her hair a mess.

Dmitri waltzed into the room. “How’s my baby sister?”

Anya forced a smile as she looked up at her brother. “I’m okay…I guess.” She looked to the floor. “I’m embarrassed.”

Dmitri grabbed a lone metal chair that was against a wall. A soft screeching noise ricocheted off the bare walls as he slid it over the cement floor and placed it by her bed. He reached down and placed his hand on hers as he took a seat. “Why are you embarrassed?”

A flash of disappointment shot across her face as she raised her blue eyes. “The doctor said I had a panic attack. He attributed it to my fear that something bad will happen to Peter when he’s in space.” A small tear began to roll down her face. “I hate it that I lost control. I’m stronger than that.”

Dmitri squeezed his sister’s hand. “You are one of the strongest women I know. I’m convinced the recent miscarriage contributed to all of this. Besides, the last three weeks have been one big emotional roller coaster ride for you. You need rest, and the good news is you will be able to do that with Peter.”

A slight twinkle appeared in her eye. “I heard Peter saved the men. I tried to get back into the control room, but the doctor wouldn’t let me.”

“I’m sure Peter felt your presence.”

The twinkle in her eye quickly dissipated as a distraught look overtook her face.

Dmitri was taken aback by her abrupt change in demeanor. “What’s the matter? You should be happy.”

Anya let go of his hand and levered herself higher on the pillows to sit up more. “I am. I’m happy he survived and proud he saved the men.” She pulled her charm out from under her shirt and rubbed it as she looked right through him. The room was still for a moment. “I love Peter so much. He’s everything I have always wanted in a man.”

Dmitri was confused. “I know. He’s a hell of a catch, perfect for you. And once again, he impressed me with his flying skills.”

She turned away and stared at the blank gray wall. “Remember how Mom used to lock herself in the bathroom for long periods of time when Dad was in space?”

Dmitri nodded. “Yes.”

“I often heard her crying through the door. One day the door was unlocked and I walked in. She quickly grabbed a towel as she tried to hide her face, wiping away the tears. I told her I knew she was upset and that I often heard her crying. I asked why. She was very hesitant to tell me at first, but finally she opened up. She said she had always had this premonition Dad would die in space. She was so sure she was right that whenever he left on a mission, she was convinced it would be the last time she would ever see him.”

This was news to Dmitri. He interrupted his sister while shaking his head. “Wow, her premonition was right. Dad did die in space, and what’s ironic is one of the reasons he took on that mission was to be with her.”

Anya gave a sad smile. “She said Dad didn’t know of her true feelings and she wanted it kept that way. She made me promise never to tell him. She knew how much being a cosmonaut meant to Dad and she didn’t want him quitting because of her.”

Dmitri was still shaking his head. His mother fooled him. She always seemed so strong and in control during his father’s missions.

Anya leaned back on the pillows. “Though I wanted to, I never told him. I promised myself I would never fall in love with a man who made me feel the way Mom felt.” She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know if I can make it work with Peter.”

Dmitri put his hand on her leg and lightly patted. “Of course you can. You need to tell him how you feel. I know you two can work things out.”

She grabbed his hand and looked him directly in his eyes with a stern look. “Promise me you will never tell him about this or me passing out in the control room.”

Dmitri was surprised by his sister’s sudden mood change. He definitely didn’t agree with her. He shook his head no.

Anya’s tone became surprisingly fierce as she squeezed his hand tighter. “Promise me.”

He looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t think it’s right…but I promise.”

PETER FELT LIKE a new man as he sat refreshed in the small, musty room deep in the recovery ship’s hull. He was drinking a cup of coffee as he worked on a laptop on a small metal table that was bolted to the floor. He was finishing up on his debriefing report. All four men had been safely plucked from their spacecraft in the Pacific Ocean and secretly transported by helicopter to SpaceQuest’s waiting ship. Since their mission was a covert operation, no welcoming party awaited them. Instead, they were quickly hustled below deck. Peter was pleased to have finally had a nice, hot shower and to be wearing fresh clothes, a pair of SpaceQuest-issued sweats. A grin crossed his face when he got a whiff of deodorant when the engineer walked past, pleased he no longer had to endure the man’s body odor.

The clean-shaven engineer pulled out a chair across from Peter and took a seat. “I check on Sergei. He still in some pain, but he be okay. He want me thank you for saving crew.”

“That’s great news. So everything went okay in the hyperbaric chamber?”

The engineer nodded as he turned toward Carlos, who sat in the corner of the room with his back to them. The arrogant man was talking obnoxiously loud as he was describing their re-entry to someone on the phone. The engineer rolled his eyes when he overheard Carlos imply he helped with the maneuver. “What asshole.”

Peter couldn’t agree more and was looking forward to getting away from the guy. Unfortunately, all three men had to stay in the same isolated room since most of the crew was unaware of their mission and questions would be asked if they were seen. Peter looked down to see his coffee swaying back and forth as the boat sped through the choppy seas. He couldn’t wait to reach port and see Anya.

Carlos wrapped up his call and got up from his seat.

Unsurprisingly, Carlos once again started bitching. “Why am I stuck in here? I deserve better than this, especially after that piece of shit trip you two took me on.”

Peter wasn’t going to turn around or react; nothing good would come from it. He simply stayed quiet as he went back to his report.

“Hey, I’m talking to you two.”

Neither Peter nor the engineer said a word. Peter felt a slight push from behind.

“Hey, are you deaf? I’m talking to you.”

Peter sensed the man towering over him, which he took as a threat. A loud screeching sound emitted from his chair as he calmly pushed it out before slowly rising and turning toward the irritated man. He looked Carlos squarely in his eyes. “I’m not deaf. I just choose not to speak to assholes like you.” The volcano inside him was about to erupt, so he calmly turned away to leave the room. He felt a hand aggressively grab his shoulder.

“Don’t turn away from me.”

Peter balled up his hand into a tight fist as he lowered his head. He took a deep breath; there was no chance of preventing the inevitable. He slowly turned around with fire in his eyes, elbow pulling back to lift his fist to his waist, weight on his toes, ready to strike. Carlos’s shoulders drooped as he took a frightened step back. Peter unleashed a lightning quick punch squarely on Carlos’s jaw. The powerful blow knocked the pathetic man up in the air before he fell hard to the floor.

The engineer clapped in the background.

Carlos looked up in shock as he rubbed his jaw. “You can’t punch me!”

Peter stood over the coward like Muhammad Ali over Sonny Liston. “I just did, and you better stay down, or I’ll do it again.”

Carlos made no attempt to move. “I’m going to sue you.”

Peter turned away and casually closed up the computer he was working on. “Good luck with that. Besides, I’m not here, remember? This mission never happened.”

Carlos’s voice began to whine as he looked at the engineer. “You saw what happened, didn’t you?”

As Peter picked up the laptop, the cosmonaut gave him a wink before answering, “I see nothing.”

11

REASSIGNMENT

Peter’s right leg was bouncing rapidly up and down like a jackhammer under the waterfront table in the classy restaurant. Above the uncontrollable action Peter’s steady hand held a glass of champagne as he looked into the eyes of his one true love. Peter was ecstatic to finally be alone with Anya after his successful rescue of the cosmonauts and her return from Russia. He was trying to control his nerves as he was about to change his life forever. After years of being a playboy, Peter was finally ready to make the ultimate commitment. It was time to officially end his single days and ask Anya to marry him.

The Flying Dutchman restaurant was the perfect place for Peter to propose. He had wonderful memories at the seafood eatery located right off a channel leading into the Gulf of Mexico southeast of Houston. Peter had been coming to the restaurant ever since his high school days. Back in the ’80s he was treated like a celebrity because he was a moonwalker’s son. He took most of his dates to the classy joint and always got a prime seat. Though the ownership had changed and he was no longer recognized, nostalgia alone made it the perfect place to propose. As they sat at a secluded table he still wasn’t sure how he should pop the question.

He tipped his glass in Anya’s direction. “A toast to the two of us sharing many more moments like this.”

Anya smiled, but she seemed to be missing that twinkle in her eye. They lightly touched their glasses together, a soft chime echoing in the air.

As he took a sip of the chilled, fizzy liquid, the sharp corners of the ring box in his pocket became more and more irritating. The constant weight against his leg tempted him to pop the question just to get rid of it. Peter casually put his hand under the table to adjust the box in hopes of relieving the annoying reminder. The time wasn’t right yet.

Peter straightened up in his chair. “Whenever things got tough in space, thinking of you always relaxed me. There were moments when I would look down at the wonders below, and I always questioned where you were, what you were doing. I tried to pass on a vibe letting you know I was thinking of you and that I loved you.”

“I felt it.” Anya took a sip, her eyes never wavering from his. “You really enjoy flying in space, don’t you?”

Peter smiled big. “It’s so magical up there above our planet. The thrill is invigorating. Seeing our whole world with all its vibrant colors always makes me feel alive and closer to God. It’s just so hard to describe or explain. I wish I could take you up and we could experience it together.”

Anya shook her head vigorously. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m happy right here on Earth.” She set her glass down. “Dmitri was impressed with your flying. I know he’s a little jealous. He misses space, just like Dad did.”

“I can totally understand. Once you have been up there, you want to go back. It becomes a part of you. I can’t wait to go up there again.”

Anya turned away to look out the window. The room seemed still for a second. She turned with an odd look on her face. “I need to go to the restroom.”

Peter politely stood. She got up and smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

Peter slowly sat back down, never taking his eye off the beautiful woman he wanted to marry. She strode away, her black stilettos clicking on the tile floor, her tight sparkling navy blue dress swaying back and forth alluringly. He shook his head. Damn, I’m one lucky cat.

After she turned the corner, it was time to get to work on the task at hand. He had to figure out how he was going to ask her. He pulled out the small ring box from his pocket and set it on the table. A feast of senses consumed him as he slowly opened it. He proudly pulled out the glittering jewelry and slipped the ring as far as he could down his pinky finger. He held up his hand and stared at the ring intently, thinking of what it meant. He was convinced he was ready. He pulled the ring off and noticed an elderly couple a few tables over staring at him with big smiles on their faces. He flashed them a quick thumbs-up before setting the ring back in the box.

He looked around the table, trying to figure out a creative way to ask her. He thought about putting the diamond ring in her champagne glass before he chuckled at the thought of her swallowing the expensive jewelry. The butter dish had a cover. He lifted the curved top and saw the dish was filled with butter, as if it was poured before it hardened. Perfect. He grabbed the ring by the center diamond and pulled it from the box. He pushed the ring so the band entered the butter first, stopping it halfway down. It sat propped up like it had been in the box. He smiled as he admired his handiwork. At least it will slip on easily. He replaced the cover and slid the dish closer to her side of the table.

He grabbed his glass of champagne and, taking a sip, looked over to see the couple eating their dinner. He turned and gazed out at the sailboats passing by in the channel, their masts casting long shadows over the calm water. He twirled the crystal flute with his fingers, causing the liquid to swirl up on its sides. Life couldn’t be better. SID finally gave him the opportunity to do what he had dreamt and trained for over most of his life, fly in space. He proved his worth to his superiors by achieving all the objectives on the dangerous back-to-back missions. Their success placed him as the front-runner for future space assignments.

His personal life was at an all-time high—he’d found the perfect woman. He was excited Anya had agreed to move in with him. He was finally ready to settle down and start a family. He lifted his glass and gave himself an imaginary toast. As he took a sip, his smile couldn’t have been bigger.

Anya walked around the corner, brushing her black bangs from her eyes. They locked eyes as she approached. She smiled as she pulled out her chair and took a seat.

Peter stood and lifted both arms up so they were perpendicular to his body, palms up. He probably looked like the Fonz whenever the icon saw a hot chick. “I’m one lucky guy.”

Her smile broadened.

Peter sat and instantly his foot started bouncing again. He couldn’t wait any longer. He felt like a little kid with a secret he couldn’t keep as he slid the breadbasket over to her side of the table. “How about a piece of bread?”

She reached over and pulled off the cloth cover. A serious look crossed her face. “When do you have to go back to D.C.?”

Peter tilted his head. “Day after tomorrow. I shouldn’t be there for more than a day. When I get back we can start looking for a place to live.” He decided not to evict the renter who was in his condo. “It’s mainly to debrief the mission. I doubt I’ll be given another assignment. I’ll probably be given the astronaut refresher training at Johnson Space Center I was supposed to do before the moon mission. So I should be stationed in the area for awhile.”

Anya shot him a skeptical look. “You just finished a month of great training and space experience. I seriously doubt SID would waste your talents on further training.”

She was probably right. “Who knows?”

Anya reached for a roll and placed it on a small plate before placing the cloth back over the bread. Peter had a mischievous grin as he watched the butter dish out of the corner of his eye. His leg bounced higher.

Anya held off reaching for the butter. “I think I am going to go back to Russia when you leave.”

Peter’s head jerked back. “Why?”

Anya looked out the window as she bit her upper lip. An uncomfortable moment passed. “I’m thinking maybe I should hold off transferring out here to Houston.”

Peter’s foot stopped bouncing. They had discussed her transferring out to Zaftra’s Houston office so they could move in together. Over the last ten years, Anya’s job required her to commute between the company’s Russian headquarters and their Houston office. She was sure she could do her job from either country. He leaned in. “Why? We don’t want to have a long-distance relationship like you and Dean had.”

She slowly turned her head in his direction and sadness filled her eyes. She grabbed his hand. “I just think maybe we should slow down a little. It’s not that I don’t love you. I think you’re wonderful. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But…” she turned to look back out the window.

Peter’s insides sank as the word “but” lingered in the air like a bad stench. “But what?”

She turned back to look him in his eyes. “I’m not sure I can be married to a James Bond, who at any time could be on some assignment, who knows where, risking his life.”

Peter’s heart sank further as he fell back in his chair. This was the first time hearing she had any issues with his job. He quickly regained his composure as he leaned in and squeezed her hand. He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m twice as good as James Bond. In fact you can call me Agent Double-O Fourteen.”

Anya gave a grim smile. “That’s the problem. I do worry about you, especially when you’re in space.”

Peter patted her hand with his free one. “It was a fluke I did that second mission in space so soon after the first. It was only because I knew how to fly the Galileo. It was the only way of getting the cosmonauts back. Keep in mind, I was with SID for years before going up. I may never be assigned another space mission.”

Anya arched her eyebrows as she let go of his hand and sat back. “I just think it’s best for now. Let’s just give it some time.”

She grabbed her butter knife and started to reach for the butter dish. Peter lurched forward, quickly grabbing the dish. Anya tilted her head and shot him a baffled look.

Peter clumsily picked up the dish and set it by his side. “There’s no butter. I already checked.”

An awkward silence hovered over them as he searched for the waitress. The elderly couple caught his eye and flashed a thumbs-up sign. Peter sadly shook his head.

PETER SAT ALONE in Gavin’s office waiting for his boss to return from another meeting. Lola assured him the director would be right back. He set his cup of coffee on the desk next to the picture of Gavin’s youngest daughter, Krystal. He picked up the frame and looked at the sixteen-year-old. He assumed it was her high school picture. She wore a bright-blue blouse that brought out the blue in her eyes, her brown wavy hair following the curve of her face, flowing past her shoulders. She was a very pretty girl. Gavin always seemed to comment on the struggles he had with his family, but deep down, Peter could tell he was a proud father.

He set the picture down as he leaned back in the leather chair and stared out at the clear blue skies through the window. He was ready to experience having a family, and he thought Anya was too. He received mixed signals when they said their goodbyes at the airport earlier in the day. He could feel her strong love for him, but something was missing. In the back of his mind, he felt her distance was probably due to the miscarriage. The subject had been taboo since he returned from the moon. She just didn’t want to talk about it. He felt guilty for not being there to comfort her through the tragic experience.

He looked back at Gavin’s daughter as he lightly drummed his finger tips on the chair’s armrests. He needed to do something. He couldn’t let Anya slip away. He balled his hand into a tight fist before pounding down hard on the chair. “I’ll fly to Russia as soon as I’m done here. I’ll convince her we’re made for each other, and we can deal with any crisis, no matter what it is, as long as we do it together.” He crossed his legs as he relaxed deep in the chair, satisfied he would fix whatever problem there was.

Peter was brought back to reality with a solid pat on the back. “Who are you talking to?”

Embarrassed his private conversation might have been heard, Peter straightened up to greet his boss. “Myself, as usual.”

Gavin had a big grin plastered on his face as he walked around his desk. “So how’s our local hero?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Gavin quickly took a seat. “You did a great job saving those cosmonauts. Once again you made the agency look good.” He put both arms on his desk as he brought his hands together and interlocked his fingers. “The President has even invited you to the White House. He would like to personally thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Peter bowed his head respectfully. “Boss, you know I was just doing my job. But thanks. It would be an honor to meet the President.”

“I’ll have Lola set it up.” Gavin unlocked his fingers to reach over and grab a file. As he opened it he said, “Sounds like your little buddy you saved is raising a big stink.”

Peter tightened both fists; Gavin was talking about Carlos. “He’s not my buddy.”

Gavin chuckled. “That’s what I’ve heard. In fact, he’s claiming you punched him.”

Peter looked Gavin straight in the eyes with a sly smile. Though it was unacceptable for agents to lose control, they were still human. “Do you think I punched him?”

Gavin studied Peter for a moment. Peter could tell by Gavin’s smirk, he knew the truth. “Nah, I don’t think you did.”

Peter winked. “Well, that works for me.”

Gavin leaned back in his chair. “Carlos is also pissed off at Russia. FKA decided not to give specifics on the rescue and instead told the media the cosmonauts were brought back early due to Carlos freaking out and putting the crew in jeopardy.”

Peter uncrossed his legs as he chuckled. “He did freak out. I have no idea how that guy qualified for that flight. FKA needs to do a better job screening their tourist candidates.”

“It’s my understanding Carlos is getting his father involved, and they are trying to sue FKA for defamation of character and requesting a full refund on his trip.”

Peter shook his head as he grinned.

Gavin crossed his arms. “He’s telling the press there was an explosion on the Soyuz, and an American was sent up to save them. He suggested they track down the astronaut.”

Peter tilted his head, wondering if Carlos actually knew his name.

Gavin got a look as if he was about to give a punchline to a joke. “He says the astronaut’s name is Peter Robinson.”

Peter laughed out loud. “Good luck tracking that guy down.”

Gavin nodded as he leaned back toward his desk and started sorting through the papers in the file. “I think it will all eventually blow over.” Gavin perked up when he found the paper he was looking for. “So I have another assignment for you.”

Peter tightened. He was hoping to get over to Russia right away. “Boss, is it possible to get a little time off first?”

Gavin closed the file and set the paper on top. “I know you deserve it, but unfortunately this is a time sensitive mission and I think you’re the perfect man for the job. If you accept it, you need to get into the field right away.”

Peter cringed. He’d never turned down an assignment. “What’s the mission?”

“Are you familiar with EarthOrbit?”

EarthOrbit was one of the commercial space companies vying for a long-term contract from NASA to haul astronauts and supplies to and from the space station. They were a direct competitor with SpaceQuest. “Absolutely, I know them.”

“Some red flags have been raised about the company lately which concerns us. The latest was the quick hiring of Chris Riddick.”

“Somebody hired that asshole? How come he’s not in jail?”

“NASA was unable to prove he conspired with the Chinese, so all they could do was fire him. Anyway, we feel he still has a connection with China, and they could be using EarthOrbit as a springboard for something.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Because you flew Galileo to the space station and worked with SpaceQuest, we feel EarthOrbit would be interested in hiring you. We want you to become a part of their team and see what you can find out. They’re currently in the process of hiring a Manager for Astronaut Safety and Mission Assurance.”

Peter was still hoping to get over to Russia. “So what’s the rush?”

“This position was to be filled last week. One of our agents contacted the hiring agency late last week pretending to be you and submitted your resume. When EarthOrbit learned you were applying, they agreed to hold off making a decision until they interviewed you.”

“When’s the interview?”

“8 a.m. tomorrow. Fortunately their headquarters are in Houston.”

“Sounds like you were pretty sure I’d take on the assignment.”

Gavin smiled. “You haven’t turned one down yet.”

Peter tightened his jaw as he looked out the window.

Gavin piped up. “There’s one minor snag with this mission.”

Peter turned, his eyebrow raised. “What’s that?”

Gavin studied Peter for a second, stalling. He cleared his throat. “Chris Riddick will be your boss. That’s who’ll be interviewing you tomorrow.”

“Shit. You’re kidding me.”

Gavin lifted both hands as if surrendering. “Hey, it’s not like you haven’t worked for him before.”

Peter put his hand through his hair as he leaned back in the chair. “You know I can’t stand that guy, especially when I worked for him. He’s the main reason I left NASA. You and I both know it was probably his lies that were the final straw leading the United Nations to question if we landed on the moon. He basically backstabbed all of NASA and America, which led to my father’s death.”

“I know. It won’t be an easy assignment. But, I think you have the best chance of getting hired.”

Peter shook his head as he turned and looked back out the window. Thinking he had found a reason why he shouldn’t be the agent he turned and smugly said, “Chris knows I work for SID.”

“He knows you used to work for SID. But like everyone outside of the CIA, he should believe you left the agency to take on the mission to the moon. He might question whether you’re still associated with the agency. If so, you’ll need to convince him you burned bridges when you took the mission, ending any chance of rejoining SID.”

Peter rubbed his chin. He just finished a mission with one asshole, and now he was considering taking on another with an even bigger asshole. A faint voice in his head was telling him to pass on the job and get over to Russia. Though the voice was probably right, Peter couldn’t turn down an assignment. “Okay, count me in. But you owe me one, Boss.”

12

EARTHORBIT

Sweat was developing all over his body as Peter strutted up the stairs toward EarthOrbit’s main entrance. Overhead, low, scudding dark clouds obscured the sun, promising thunderstorms. It was starting out to be a typical, hot and muggy August day in Houston. Peter was dressed in a navy blue suit with a patriotic, red tie. As much as he hated wearing the monkey suit, he needed to give the impression he was executive material.

There was nothing remarkable about the large white building as he arrived at the entrance. He wiped the few beads of sweat off his forehead before opening one of the glass doors that led into the lobby. A gust of cool air greeted him as he entered. He quickly located the reception desk and aimed straight for it. As his footfalls drummed up an uneven echo in the empty lobby, he did a relaxed scan of his surroundings. The lobby had an old ’60s feel with wood paneling decorating the walls. He was surprised to see old pictures of NASA rockets symmetrically placed instead of photos of their own rockets. Though the furniture looked new, it was all in a futuristic ’60s design. Peter assumed the owners wanted those entering to feel nostalgic for the old triumphant NASA days. They were probably hoping to influence NASA big wigs that EarthOrbit was of the same mold. The company was definitely taking a different approach than SpaceQuest’s ultra-modern facility. Peter figured this was just one of the many differences he would encounter between the two competing companies. Though he was a big fan of SpaceQuest and their operation, he had to be open-minded. He would have to adapt to EarthOrbit’s style if he wanted to be a part of their team.

Peter smiled at the beautiful blonde sitting behind the metal desk as he approached. “Hello, I’m here for an interview.”

“And your name is?”

“Peter Novak.”

The receptionist pursed her lips as she carefully surveyed a calendar on her desk. “Oh, yes, you’ll be seeing Mr. Riddick.”

Just hearing the name made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“Please have a seat. He’ll be right out.”

“Thank you.” Peter walked over to the nearest seat, an awkward-looking lounge chair made of polished metal. It looked like it was made from a large section of steel pipe that King Kong seized at both ends and twisted around until the two ends met, and then put a crease in the middle for a human to sit in. Not very practical, but interesting to look at. The feel of the chair was just as he suspected. He tried to adjust himself, hoping to improve the comfort, but he wasn’t having any luck. He glanced around at the NASA pictures along the walls; some were the Saturn rockets that took men to the moon. A smile flitted across his face when he pinpointed his dad’s, which strangely made him think of Anya.

He decided to fire off a quick text, knowing it was early evening for her. He quickly pulled out his smartphone and unlocked the screen. He simply typed, “I love you.” He kissed his finger before placing it over the words on the screen then hit the send button. He confirmed the sent message before powering down the phone, insuring he wouldn’t be disturbed during his interview. As his finger lingered over the power button, the phone buzzed. He looked at the screen to see a text from Anya.

“Ditto.”

A splash of joy shot through him, just what he needed. He placed his finger back on the power button when he was startled by another buzz. He looked down to see a new text.

“Double ditto.”

He smirked. Man, she types quick.

Peter’s concentration was broken when a soft, electronic buzz of an unlatching lock broke through the lobby’s still silence. Peter looked up in the direction of the hum to see a door gradually open. As the silhouette appeared, Peter instantly knew it was Chris Riddick. Every muscle tightened in his body as he quickly sent a smiley face to Anya before powering down the phone and placing it in his pocket. He plastered a smile on his face as he stood to greet the seventy-one-year-old man. Chris walked with an arrogant strut as he emerged from the shadows. The lights penetrated his pale, sunken face, which was expressionless. His green eyes never wavered from Peter’s.

As the man drew near, Peter pretended to be thrilled as he extended his hand. “Hello, Chris.”

Chris stopped just shy of Peter and studied him. After a weighty pause, he reached for his hand. A cautious smile crept on his face as they shook hands. “Hello, Peter.”

Peter was about to start with pleasantries he’d prepared when Chris let go and oddly turned back around. In a cold voice he said, “Follow me.”

Peter shrugged as he trailed the man.

After traveling through a short maze of hallways, they soon entered Chris’s office. Peter was impressed by the large suite with its stunning interior. A large, mahogany desk stood toward the back with two brown leather chairs across from it. By the entrance was a quaint sitting area, with an elegant leather couch across from a couple of comfortable, plush chairs. The office had a modern look, different from the lobby. Chris never had it so good at NASA.

Chris hastily pointed to the couch as he positioned himself in front of one of the posh chairs. “Why don’t you have a seat over there?”

Never missing a beat in his step, Peter walked to the couch with assurance before taking a seat. “Nice office.”

With a slight smirk, Chris fell back into the chair. “Thanks; one of the perks of working in the private sector.”

Peter was surprised by an unexpected stab of anger as bad memories began assailing him like shards of broken glass. Sitting across from Chris reminded Peter of the many heartbreaking meetings he had had with the former NASA man when he had been given one lame excuse after another on why he was being bypassed for yet another shuttle crew assignment. Peter briefly looked away to clear his mind.

Chris’s face tightened. “I thought it was kind of rude how you blew right past me at CIA headquarters a few months back.”

Always one to get right to the point, Chris was evidently done with the small talk. Peter clearly remembered their last encounter and was pleased to hear he pissed off the old man. Though his brush-off was intentional, he had to convince Chris otherwise. He decided to use the moon mission as his excuse. “I’m sorry about that, Chris. My mind was elsewhere at the time. I was still dealing with Dad’s death, and considering leaving SID to take on the mission to the moon. I had a million things going on in my mind at the time. I must not have heard you say hello. I definitely didn’t mean anything by it.”

Chris leaned back in his chair trying to read Peter. Chris cleared his throat. “I did take it personally, especially since we hadn’t seen each other for awhile. I wanted to give you my condolences on your dad’s passing. Remember, we had worked together on a mission. But you just ignored me. It felt mean spirited, like you had some issues with me or something.”

Peter wanted to scream I do have issues with you. You’re one big, back-stabbing prick. Instead, he took a calming breath as he raised both hands in surrender. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just extremely focused. I mean, I was considering leaving SID and flying a mission to the moon. Hopefully you can understand the magnitude of such a decision and how I was preoccupied.”

Chris intertwined his fingers across his belly. He didn’t look convinced. “All right, I accept your apology.” He straightened up in his chair. “So how did you get involved with SpaceQuest anyway?”

Since Chris had access to classified information before he was put on leave from NASA, he probably knew the agency was working with SID on a secret mission to the moon. Peter needed to come up with a plausible story. He decided this was an opportunity to appear willing to give confidential information, with the hope it might sway Chris’s decision. “Originally, going to the moon was a government operation before it was killed for being too risky. I had been introduced to the CEO of SpaceQuest, Allen Ferguson, before the operation was cancelled. I had made up my mind I was going to attempt it, with or without SID. I was doing this for Dad. After some private meetings with Allen, I was able to convince him how patriotic the mission would be for SpaceQuest and how docking with the International Space Station would improve their chances of getting a big contract from NASA.”

“You’re right, they did get a big jump on us, and we want to change that. But before I get into details, I have to first be honest with you, Peter. I was not the one who wanted you in here for this interview. Walter Goings, the president, was. He was excited to hear you were interested in the job and asked me to interview you. However, I personally question if we can work together. I feel you still harbor some resentment toward me.”

Hoping to persuade Chris otherwise, Peter quickly jumped in. “I—”

Chris arrogantly raised his hand. “Don’t bother trying to convince me otherwise. If you get the job, your ability to keep the past in the past will be something that will have to prove itself out over time. However, I have to say, I feel your experience with SpaceQuest is invaluable. I think there is a lot you could offer us.”

Peter smiled, even though his blood boiled.

Propping his elbows on his knees, Chris leveled a cold stare. An awkward silence filled the room. Peter wasn’t sure if his former boss was trying to make him feel uncomfortable or what. Does he want me to say something? He decided to stand his ground and just stared back. Finally, Chris blatantly asked, “Do you still have any association with SID?”

Prepared for the question, it was time for Peter to do his best acting job and flat out lie to the man. He vehemently shook his head as he answered with strong conviction in his voice. “I burned that bridge when I went against orders to fly to the moon. I knew I wouldn’t be welcomed back if I took on the mission, but as I said before, I did it for Dad. I had to restore his legacy. As his son, I owed it to him. Besides, you know how much I wanted to get into space.” Peter couldn’t help putting in that little dig to his old boss for never assigning him a shuttle seat. The comment didn’t seem to faze Chris as he studied Peter, apparently looking for any sign he wasn’t telling the truth.

With a blank look, Chris responded, “All right.”

Having a difficult time reading the man, Peter was unable to tell if he was coming across as convincing. Regardless, Chris couldn’t inform anyone within the company of his SID background. That knowledge was classified information, which by law he was prevented from sharing.

Chris’s whole body seemed to relax as he leaned back in his chair. He moved off the subject as if it wasn’t even discussed, addressing Peter as if he was just another candidate interviewing for the open position. “I should point out that EarthOrbit’s philosophy is different from SpaceQuest’s. That company seems set on not bringing in any NASA or aerospace employees that worked within our space program. They apparently don’t want to take advantage of the years of experience that’s out there, which EarthOrbit does. That’s why we’re based in Houston, so we can snatch up NASA’s top engineers and managers as they are let go due to the retirement of the Shuttle.”

Leaning back deeper in the couch, Peter crossed his legs. He was convinced Chris was a fan of EarthOrbit’s style because they gave him a job. SpaceQuest would have never hired such a washed-up old timer, especially one who had just been fired. Their thinking was to stay away from old school engineers and managers who were content with the bureaucracy found at NASA. SpaceQuest instead sought young energetic employees eager to be a part of a flat management structure that allowed decisions to be made more efficiently and quickly.

Chris started twirling his thumbs. “EarthOrbit has tried to mix the good of NASA with what makes a private company successful. We sub out a lot of our work like NASA did. Parts are built all over the world, and all the assembly takes place here. Again, it’s so we can take advantage of the expertise that already exists in the world.”

Peter uncrossed his legs. Taking advantage of experienced companies to make parts made sense. He could see some benefits in their style of operation.

“As you know, we have successfully delivered a few satellites into space. We feel we are farther along than SpaceQuest, but yet we have not been able to secure a contract with NASA to service the space station. That’s our goal and why I was brought on board. We feel such a contract would solidify us as a world leader in space travel. The position you are interviewing for will support me in this quest, as well as oversee astronaut selection and training. We are gearing up to be the first private company to successfully put a man in space and return him safely.”

Peter tried to look impressed, even though SpaceQuest had already pulled off that mission, returning him after he had saved the cosmonauts. Of course, Chris and the rest of the world were unaware of the rescue. “This all sounds very interesting.”

Chris leaned forward. “Good.” With no expression, he looked at his watch. “Well, I’m sorry, but I have to wrap this up. I have another meeting I need to get to. I’m glad you were able to come in. Again, my biggest concern is if we can work together.”

Alarms started going off in Peter’s head. Had Chris cut the interview short? Was it because he had already made up his mind? Peter also hadn’t asked any probing questions for getting some intelligence in case he wasn’t hired. He swallowed his pride and went into damage control. “I just want you to know I would be honored to work for you again. I have grown a lot over the years and came to realize how good I had it at NASA. I definitely regret leaving the agency. Not only am I positive we can work together, I believe we’ll make a great team. I have no doubt my NASA experience along with my SpaceQuest knowledge will allow me to help EarthOrbit dominate the space business.”

Chris had a smug look as he leaned back in his chair. “It’s interesting how the tables have turned over the years, and you now need my support. I remember when you left NASA, and you arrogantly said you didn’t care what I thought. This is just like what happened with your father and me. I used to always look to him for his approval and help. Then his career suddenly depended on me.”

Peter had no idea what Chris was talking about and wasn’t even going to acknowledge it. He was convinced the guy was full of shit. Seeing the man sitting there so righteous with his legs spread was like an invitation for Peter to walk up and kick the SOB in the nuts. He had to remind himself he was there to do a job, so he took a deep breath. “As I said, I learned a lot over the last few years.”

“Well, good. Your words do sound nice.” Chris rose from his seat. “Let’s see what Mr. Goings thinks. I’ll take you over to his office to meet him.”

Peter stood. He was sure he had struck out with Chris. His last shot was to convince the president and hope that he was the final decision maker.

WHEN PETER EMERGED out from behind Chris’s shadow as they entered Walter Goings’s office, he was blown away by its sheer size and elegance. It had the same amenities as Chris’s, but was much more impressive. There was a fancy, mirrored bar, a private restroom, and an adjoining room with a large conference table. The centerpiece of the large room was a model of the Zeus rocket sitting on a marble table with a spotlight shining down on it. The white rocket with red lettering seemed to glow. Goings was working intently at his computer as they entered. Chris’s voice interrupted the president’s concentration. “Walter, I would like to introduce you to Peter Novak.”

The fine-boned, handsome man with silver hair stood and approached with a skip in his step. Peter estimated the man was in his late fifties. He had a big grin on his face as he extended his hand. “Peter Novak, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

They met halfway, right next to the model rocket. Peter grabbed the man’s hand and gave a firm handshake. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Goings. I appreciate this opportunity to interview with EarthOrbit.”

“Call me Walter. So what do you think of our facility?”

That was an odd question, since all he had seen was the lobby and Chris’s office. “Nice so far. Of course, I haven’t really seen much.”

Walter turned to Chris with an eyebrow arched. “Didn’t you give him the tour?”

“Sorry, Walter, I’m late for the assessment meeting.”

Walter appeared frustrated as he looked Peter in the eye. “Don’t worry. I’ll personally give you one after we’re done.”

Chris patted Peter on the back. “Well, I better get going. Good to see you again.”

Doubting his sincerity, Peter played along. “Thanks, Chris. It was great seeing you too.”

Chris gave a quick wave to Walter. “We can talk later.” He then turned and bolted out the door.

Facing the four-foot model rocket, Walter put his hands on the marble table. He proudly eyed the company’s future. “This is the Zeus II rocket that will soon take our astronauts into space, launching from our spaceport in Nevada.”

Peter was aware of both, the rocket and the spaceport. He had always been impressed how far the company had come building their own launch facility, something SpaceQuest did not have. Having such a facility gave them the flexibility of launching when and how they wanted, not having to rely on NASA. The Zeus II, with its three-engine design, had already had some successful test launches from the site.

Slowly sliding his hands toward each other along the curve of the table until they touched, Walter leaned in. “EarthOrbit is proud to stand on the shoulders of the many space organizations that have passed before us.” Walter took the weight off his hands before pointing to the engines on the bottom of the model. “For example, those three engines are actually modified Soviet engines from the 1960s that were designed to send Russians to the moon. Those liquid oxygen and kerosene engines have been in storage for over three decades. We have modified them to include modern U.S. electronic controllers, ignition systems, control valves and even thrust vector control systems. And the rocket will be fully reusable. In fact, the first stage has successfully passed all tests proving it can fly on its own. It is designed to fly back to the spaceport by re-igniting one of the engines. Once safely overhead, the engine will shut down as the parachutes are deployed, landing it carefully back at the base.”

Walter then pointed to the top of the rocket. “And there is the Iris capsule, modeled after the Apollo spacecraft.” He turned and gave Peter a wink. “Which of course you know a little about.”

Walter was obviously acknowledging Peter’s heritage, which appeared to be a good thing.

The energized man turned. “We are hoping to capture lightning in a bottle, just like NASA did with the Apollo program.” His eyes settled on Peter. “We are one of only three companies vying for the precious NASA contract to send astronauts to the space station. Two months ago, Spaceplanes was the company to beat. They’re practically in bed with NASA with their Orbital Space Plane, which was based on NASA’s HL-20 spaceship that never flew. NASA would love to award the contract to a company using their old design, justifying the hundreds of millions of dollars they spent on the project.”

Peter was familiar with the HL-20, which was basically a mini-shuttle designed without engines to be a lifeboat for the International Space Station. NASA wanted an emergency spacecraft that could save at least seven astronauts. But after spending a ton of money on the project, some genius in the organization pointed out they could just dock a couple of Soyuz’s at the station to do the same thing. NASA was forced to shut down the project due to the shortsighted policy planning by the White House and Congress.

With his back to the model, Walter leaned back against the table. “At that time, two months ago, our company and SpaceQuest were basically tied behind Spaceplanes. Of course, that was before your little stunt to the moon.”

Peter took a step back as he shrugged.

“Now SpaceQuest has leapfrogged both companies and is sitting in the catbird seat. Unfortunately, EarthOrbit is now a distant third. I want to change that. There will be only one contract of this magnitude awarded, and we want it.” Walter crossed his arms. “Do you think you can help us get it?”

Peter enthusiastically responded, “Yes, sir.”

Walter smiled as he pointed toward his desk. “Good. Come on over and have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Peter walked straight toward the chair across from the president’s desk and sat while Walter circled to the other side.

Walter seemed a bit giddy as he fell back in his chair. “I have to say, I’m honored to be sitting across from a man who was just at the moon. That was some stunt. Just too bad it was with SpaceQuest’s equipment and not ours.”

Peter relaxed. His hopes of getting the job were improving. Walter’s enthusiasm was encouraging. “Thanks, Walter. I’m positive your equipment would have also done the job.”

“I’m confident it would have. Well, I look forward to hearing more details on that mission.” Walter paused as he opened a file in front of him.

He planned on hearing more details? When? Peter took that as saying he had the job.

“You have an impressive resume.”

“Thank you.”

“EarthOrbit prides itself on bringing in qualified engineers and managers from America’s space program. We are not looking to reinvent the wheel. We want to learn from NASA and the other space agencies around the world. Take what they have accomplished and build on it. Your background with NASA along with the time you spent at SpaceQuest would make you a great addition to our family.” Walter leaned forward and put his hands on his desk. “And that’s what we are, a family. We are a close-knit group of hard-working individuals that have fun together, working as a team to make EarthOrbit the leader in the space business.”

Peter got the impression Walter was a proud American. He doubted the man could be a part of any type of conspiracy. If something was going on, it was probably without his knowledge. “It would be an honor to be a part of this family.”

Walter smiled as he fell back in his seat. “Good.” The thin man laid both arms out along the chair’s armrests. “You know I am in this business because of men like your father. I was a very impressionable teenager when we went to the moon, and America’s success in space eventually set my life’s course. After that first step on the moon, I was destined to be in the space business. My hope was to be an astronaut like most teenagers at the time, but of course that didn’t happen.” He brought both hands together and set them in his lap. “I’m sorry about the passing of your father. He was a great American.”

Walter sounded sincere. “Thank you, I appreciate you saying that.”

“You know, I met him once. In fact, it’s kind of a funny story. We were both in a corporate jet flying from California to Houston. The pilot offered to let your dad sit in the co-pilot seat. Back where I was sitting, I could see the pilot let your dad take the controls. Eventually the pilot left for the restroom at the back of the plane. There were probably four of us in the galley, reading and talking.” Walter held up his two hands together, pantomiming the plane’s wings. “Your dad started to lightly rock the plane back and forth, but in such a way no one could feel it. I happened to be looking out the window and noticed the rocking. Knowing your dad had flown all kinds of jets, I decided not to say anything and see what he was up to. Each rock seemed to sway the plane a little more each time until your dad spun us completely around.” He guffawed. “He did a full barrel roll, and a pretty damn good one at that! None of the other gentlemen felt it or noticed anything. It was the funniest sight, seeing the pilot with a stunned look come running out of the restroom with his zipper halfway down. He ran past all of us and snatched the controls from your dad, yelling, ‘What are you trying to do, kill us?’ Your dad just smiled and walked back to his seat.”

Peter laughed. “I never heard that story. But that was one thing about Dad, he loved to roll planes. He wanted to roll everything he flew. He would roll a 747 if he had the chance!” Peter was beginning to like Walter.

13

INITIATE FINAL PHASE

With the air conditioner running full blast in his mom’s home, Peter had to fold his arms tightly around his body to stay warm. His dad’s office was always the first room to cool down. As he stood freezing, he stared at one of his dad’s many NASA group shots hanging on the wall, the one with all the crews involved on the USSR/USA space mission in 1975. He focused on Chris Riddick, who was on the support crew. Of all the men in the picture, only he had the camera red-eye effect from the flash, giving him a sinister look.

He remembered Chris’s comment earlier in the day about helping his father, implying Chris had saved his father’s career. His dad never spoke highly of Chris and definitely never volunteered any information indicating the man rescued his career. Instead, Peter heard countless stories on how his dad often saved Chris’s ass.

The familiar aroma of his mom’s famous pot roast cooking in the kitchen started to penetrate his senses as he crossed to the chair behind the desk and sat. The office was just as it was when his father died. He looked down at the only two items resting on the bare desktop, a picture frame at each corner. One had an elegant picture of his mom and the other had Peter’s official NASA photo. He smiled as he lifted his photograph to get a closer look. He then looked past the picture to the chair across from him, recalling when he sat there and first told his dad he was just selected in the new astronaut class. His dad was so excited he practically flew out of his chair to give him a congratulatory hug. He later cautioned him that Chris harbored an old grudge, which might affect Peter getting a crew assignment. When Peter questioned why the ill will, his father’s response was always vague. He simply stated Chris often backstabbed fellow astronauts to better his position. His old rival had damaging information which he threatened to use. When pressed for specifics, his dad felt it was water under the bridge and not worth discussing.

His dad’s concern was ultimately valid. Peter never got an assignment even though he was one of the top astronauts in his class.

Peter put his hands behind his head as he leaned back in the chair, scanning the many other pictures and mementos that decorated the walls. But his eyes were drawn back to that picture with Chris, wondering what the man meant by his statement.

The partially cracked office door was suddenly pushed completely open, breaking Peter’s concentration. His mom stood in the doorway with a cooking apron on. He assumed she was there to tell him dinner was ready. Like all his past visits, she was going all out to make him a spectacular, home-cooked meal. The joy was radiant in her face. “What are you doing, son?”

Peter pulled his hands off the back of his head. “Just reminiscing.”

His mom navigated around the two chairs across from the desk as she proudly scanned the walls. “I love this room. I come in here every day to read or relax. Whenever I’m in here I always feel your dad’s presence.”

Peter could sense his mom’s undeniable love for his father. Something he felt he could have someday with Anya.

After a brief stroll around the office, his mom sat in one of the chairs across from him. “I know your dad is very proud of you for what you did. Taking on that dangerous mission and restoring his good name and our country’s.”

“I’m just glad it all worked out and I made it back safely.”

His mom’s face lit up. “Me too!” She put both hands in her lap, turning her head toward the picture of his dad and Viktor. “Though I’m sorry Viktor didn’t make it back. He was a good man, a good friend.”

Peter looked over at the same picture. “It was in this office that I offered him the assignment. He was so gung-ho and excited. He was ready to go right then. He didn’t care he wasn’t coming back. He said he was doing it for Dad.”

His mom slowly turned her head and directed her eyes at him. “Son, Mr. Alexandrov was always impressed that you stepped up and took responsibility for breaking that simulator at Star City. He thought you were very brave taking full blame for Dmitri’s actions, especially having to answer to military soldiers. I bet you he accepted that mission to repay his debt to you.”

Peter looked back at the picture. He rubbed his fingers over his mouth as he stared. He never thought of it that way. But he was the one who ultimately made the decision to cover for Dmitri. His dad left it in his hands to make the call, and his father said he would support whatever choice he made. “You might be right. Regardless, I was lucky he did join the operation. Not just because of his expert flying skills, but also because of his humor and coolness. There’s no way I would have survived that mission without him.”

She turned with a grim smile. “Your dad always said he was one of Russia’s best.”

“Victor proved that more than once.”

She leaned forward. “Did he know about you and Anya?”

“He did. We talked about it quite a bit. He was very supportive of the relationship.”

“Good, though that doesn’t surprise me.” She gave him a wink before crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair. “So how are you and Anya doing anyway? I was surprised she went back to Russia.”

Keeping his elbows on the armrest, he lifted both hands as he nodded. “Me too. I think something is bothering her. I’m assuming it has to do with the miscarriage. I was—” A soft chime from his pocket interrupted him. “Sorry.” He pulled out his cell phone and looked at the incoming number. It was a local call. Thinking it could be EarthOrbit, he excused himself. “I need to get this.”

His mom mouthed, “Go ahead.”

He pressed the answer button before bringing the phone to his ear and looking past his mom. “Hello.”

“Hello, Peter, it’s Chris.”

Peter forced himself to respond with a chipper voice. “Hello, Chris, it’s great to hear from you. I hope you’re calling with some good news.”

Chris sounded impatient and was blunt. “Walter was very pleased with you today. He decided you’re our man.”

Interesting he said it was Walter’s decision. “Great, that’s wonderful news. I look forward to working for you again.”

“We were wondering if you could start tomorrow.” Chris’s voice was flat and emotionless. He didn’t sound too enthused over Walter’s selection.

Peter was still hoping to get to Russia, but SID wanted him to start as soon as possible. “No problem. What time should I come in?”

“How about 10 a.m.? You need to first meet up with personnel before you’ll be brought over to my office.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be there at ten with bells on. I’m looking forward to being a part of the EarthOrbit family.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” Before Peter could say goodbye, the phone went dead.

His mother inclined her head. “Was that Chris Riddick?”

How in the world could his mom have picked that up? He lifted an eyebrow. “Yes. He’s going to be my new boss.”

A disgusted look crossed her face as she stood up. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.” She turned and marched straight out the door.

Though she knew not to ask for too many details concerning his business, her response was odd. He looked back at the USSR/US crew picture and picked out Chris. With his fingers resting on his mouth, he began to lightly pat his index finger on his lips. “What do you think you know about my father?”

PLOPPING HIS FEET up on his desk, Peter made himself comfortable in his new office at EarthOrbit headquarters. In his lap were the files of the men training to fly the company’s first rockets into space. He was now their boss, and it was his responsibility to make sure when the time came, they were ready to fly. Presently the training group had six men. Of these men, only Jesse Johnston had any experience in space. He had one Shuttle mission under his belt and was considered the senior astronaut and leader of the team. Peter barely remembered the young man from his days at NASA.

Peter called Jesse to his office so he could pick his brain. He wanted to get as much information on the astronauts as possible, and Jesse was the perfect start.

He separated Jesse’s file from the pile and began to study it. If EarthOrbit was involved in any kind of illegal activity or conspiracy, Peter had to consider every employee as a possible informant or threat, even though he was certain Chris was his man. As Peter flipped through the paperwork, he was impressed with Jesse’s background. He would be surprised if a graduate from the Naval Academy who served as a Navy SEAL could be involved with any kind of plot against America.

A knock at the door broke Peter’s attention. He flung his feet off the desk and let them fall to the floor with a loud thump. “Come in.”

As the door opened, in marched a powerful, compactly-built African American man dressed in a casual white polo shirt sporting an EarthOrbit logo. The shirt was neatly tucked into a pair of khaki pants. The young man looked like he had just come off the golf course. “Hello, Mr. Novak.”

Peter stood to greet the man. “You must be Jesse. Welcome. Come on in and have a seat.”

Jesse proudly approached the front of the desk and extended his hand. “Thank you, sir; it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Peter grabbed the hand, pleased with Jesse’s strong grip. “Please call me Peter.”

As they both sat Jesse asked, “I’m not sure if you remember me when you were at NASA?”

Peter realized that he should project the impression that the young man stood out. “I do. Congratulations on getting a ride so early.”

“Thanks, lucky I guess.”

“I doubt that. With so few seats available on the Shuttle, I know NASA only picked their top candidates.”

“But I didn’t go to the moon. That was an amazing flight you piloted. Attaching the booster from the ISS was brilliant. I’ll bet that was some ride.”

“The whole trip was incredible, but I won’t lie to you. Sitting in that capsule before the booster lit was a little nerve wracking.”

“Well it’s an honor to work for the man who successfully completed such a risky flight, and to think you used a commercial rocket to get you into space.” Jesse started shaking his head. “Absolutely remarkable.”

“Thanks, but unfortunately my little stunt shot SpaceQuest to the front of the pack for receiving the NASA contract to deliver astronauts to the ISS. We need to change that. In fact that is one of the reasons why I was brought on board. I’m counting on you to make sure our astronauts will be ready to fly when called upon. We need to get back the momentum that was lost.”

“We have a good group, sir. I know you’ll be pleased.”

“Tell me about them. If we were to fly today, and we only needed a two-man crew, who would you suggest?”

“Not to sound immodest, I would first recommend myself as your commander since I am the only one with flight experience.” Jesse looked past Peter as he curled in his lips. “Mmmm…then I would say the next best candidate is Blake Hamilton. I have no idea why NASA didn’t pick him when he went through their selection process. He made it all the way to the last cut. Though he’s Mr. Funnyman, he’s extremely cool under pressure, and his flight skills are impressive.”

Peter pulled out Blake’s file and skimmed through it. The man graduated top of his class from the Air Force Academy and went on to fly the F-15 and later the F-22. From Peter’s experience flying in the Air Force, he knew getting such choice assignments was a testament to the young man’s flying ability. So far, Peter was impressed with the caliber of EarthOrbit’s astronauts.

KUANG’S PALMS WERE sweating as he sat at the head of the conference table in CNSA headquarters. Sitting to his right was Lin Wu, the assistant director of the MSS. To the left of Kuang was his assistant, Ming. All three men were meeting to discuss the latest on the top secret operation, Tianlong, which would, hopefully, propel China to the position of leader in space exploration and erase their recent humiliating defeat by America.

After China’s lie was exposed to the world by the American astronaut, Kuang had one last chance of sticking it to the United States and saving his career. He was allowed to stay at his post only after convincing his superiors that failure in beating the Americans back to the moon was due to Sie Wang’s miscalculations and eventual betrayal. The disloyal man was now in prison.

A few years earlier, Kuang had given his approval to the MSS to begin the initial stages of Tianlong, which would seriously damage the International Space Station, possibly making the outpost useless. He had hoped to never have to put the plot into action. Tianlong was only in place as a backup plan in case they were unsuccessful with the moon mission. With that failure and the military’s lack of success in capturing the astronaut, Kuang had no choice but to give his acceptance and carry out the operation.

Kuang’s superiors wanted China to rule space for military reasons and did not care how it was done. After the recent success of putting their first space station module into orbit, CNSA was ready to start adding more modules to rival the ISS. However, the military’s goal was for their station to be the only one circling the globe, and that was Kuang’s objective.

Kuang was pleased that the first phase of the operation to test the remote-controlled detonation system on the Soyuz worked, causing an explosion on the ship in space. Though he was disappointed no cosmonauts died. No doubt such deaths would have led to the spacecraft being grounded indefinitely, clearing space of any international-manned flights. The director looked at Lin. “What is the status of your inside man in America?”

“He’s in place with the commercial space company waiting for our orders to proceed with the final phase.”

“Do you feel we are ready to carry out the operation?”

“After the success of our detonating device on the Soyuz, I’ve been assured that all pieces are in place. The only question is if our operative can get EarthOrbit to launch an unauthorized manned-mission to the International Space Station.”

Kuang leaned back in his seat. Lin was implying they had the bomb in place, as well as the automated system capable of firing a set of thrusters. The plan was that when EarthOrbit’s capsule rendezvous with the space station, MSS would remotely fire the thrusters, crashing the spacecraft into the ISS. At impact they would detonate the potent bomb, seriously damaging the station and probably killing astronauts. It was paramount that the explosion be deemed an accident with no chance of China being linked to the incident. Kuang’s hope was that the ISS would be damaged beyond repair and abandoned.

The bomb had been secretly switched with the pyrotechnic device needed to deploy the main parachutes in EarthOrbit’s capsule. The MSS special weapons department designed the powerful mini bomb to look exactly like the parachute’s explosive device. Of course, this made the parachutes inoperable. It didn’t matter since the spacecraft would be destroyed, killing all its occupants.

The MSS selected EarthOrbit as their target since they were the only U.S. commercial space company having key components of their spacecraft manufactured overseas, making them more accessible to the agency. The Parachute Disconnect Assembly was manufactured at a plant in Germany where the MSS had undercover agents deployed to make the switch.

“I want this mission put into its final phase, now! Communicate this immediately. Tell your man that waiting is not an option, and it will be detrimental to him and his family if he doesn’t get a rocket launched soon to the ISS.”

Kuang stood, indicating the meeting was over. Lin bowed, signaling he understood what needed to be done.

14

ALL IN

With a notebook in hand, Peter opened the door to Walter Going’s lavish office. This was his first meeting in the office since coming on board with EarthOrbit. When Chris informed Peter of the conference, he expressed its purpose was to develop an aggressive strategic plan moving forward. With only a few days under his belt, Peter hoped to be able to contribute and not be just a spectator.

Up to this point, Peter hadn’t found anything suspicious or out of the ordinary at EarthOrbit. Of course Chris was his prime suspect if any type of conspiracy was going on. Peter needed to dig deeper in his investigation and planned on snooping around his boss’s office later that evening, once the building was empty.

Peter charged in and noticed Chris was sitting in a chair with his back to him, having a discussion with Walter, who was at his desk. Concerned he might be late, Peter took a quick glance at his watch. He was still a few minutes early. Walter interrupted Chris when he spotted Peter. “Come have a seat, Peter.”

Peter walked across the large office directly to the empty seat next to Chris. “I hope I’m not late.”

“Nope. Chris got here a little early to talk about a few things.”

Peter looked over and acknowledged Riddick, making a conscious effort not to sneer. As he settled into his chair a shiny new Rolex on Chris’s arm caught his eye.

Walter leaned back. “So are you all settled in?”

“I’m getting there. Everyone has been very helpful.”

“Great. So what do you think of our little company so far?”

“Impressive. Your equipment looks to be on par with SpaceQuest.

I’m especially pleased with your corps of astronauts.”

“I’m glad. I feel our company should employ only the finest if we are going to be one of the first commercial companies to put astronauts into space. I’m a firm believer the men and women flying our equipment need to be the cream of the crop. You never know when an emergency might happen during flight, and we want the best at the controls who can handle any situation and get themselves back safely.”

“They’re definitely some of the best.”

Walter straightened up. “Did you get a good look at Zeus II?”

A senior engineer had escorted Peter around the company. When they visited the warehouse, he was given a detailed description of both the rocket lying on its side as well as their capsule, Iris. “I did. Those Soviet engines look impressive. I was pleased to hear the rocket can fly on just two of those. You never know when one might fail.”

Walter smiled. “True. However, those babies have been thoroughly tested. I’m certain they’ll do the job.” The president grabbed a file and placed it in front of him.

Sensing they were getting down to business, Peter set his notebook on his lap and opened it.

A serious look crossed Walter’s face as he homed in on Peter. “I’ve just learned the government has approved SpaceQuest to launch a rocket with NASA-supplied dummies. Each one of those dummies will have various sensors to determine exactly what astronauts will experience during flight. They plan to launch in forty-five days. If they pass this test, their rocket will be man-rated and ready to launch their first astronauts. SpaceQuest will probably have the NASA contract locked up. We are losing this battle, and we need to make a bold move to get back in the race. Chris and I have put our heads together. I am convinced our best option is to launch a manned rocket to the ISS as soon as possible.”

Peter was shocked at the company’s sudden aggressiveness and looked at Chris to see him nodding in agreement.

Walter arched an eyebrow in Peter’s direction. “What do you think?”

Peter didn’t know what to think. “Sir, since I’ve basically just joined the team, I’m probably not qualified to answer that question.”

“True, but you’ve done this once, so I value your input. If you were to give me a logical reason why we shouldn’t go, I would seriously consider it.”

“Has NASA approved such a flight?”

“Not exactly. Though we have passed the same tests and inspections as SpaceQuest, NASA has been leery in assigning us a firm launch date. Their worry is the fact that we launch out of Nevada and fly over land. I understand their concern, but they’re not giving us a chance. We have met or exceeded every test thrown at us. My fear is if we continue to wait, we’ll lose.”

Chris turned to Peter and chimed in. “SpaceQuest took a gamble putting you into space, and look where they are now.”

Neither man knew that NASA had supported that mission, and Peter couldn’t tell them. If they did know, they probably would reconsider launching without NASA’s blessing. Though he struggled rationally with the idea, he still had to choose his words carefully. “It’s definitely taking a gamble. If you are not successful, failure to reach your declared objective could kill this company.”

Walter looked out the window as he stroked his chin. A heavy silence settled over them. He slowly turned. “The way I look at it, SpaceQuest did take a gamble sending you up. If Allen was unsuccessful with that bet, his company would have been ruined. I think we have no choice. We are either all in, or we leave the table.”

Peter had an uneasy feeling about the plan. He considered what was at stake for the young company. He wondered if launching so soon was all Chris’s idea, driven by some hidden agenda. “I’m not so sure about all of this. Do we even have a rocket ready?”

“Yes. The one you saw is ready. It just needs to be transferred to our Nevada launch site.”

Peter doubted the ISS would allow the unapproved spacecraft to dock. “Do you plan on docking?”

“No. We would fly within fifty meters. Just have our men give the ISS astronauts a little wave.”

Chris raised an open hand. “I was thinking a little more about all of this, and if we really want to make a big splash, how about we also do a spacewalk? The spacesuits are ready. This will prove we’re capable of servicing satellites.”

Peter pushed his chair back in shock, surprised by the suggestion. Walter’s eyes widened as he stared at Chris. This was obviously something he hadn’t considered. Stillness hovered over them as Walter seemed to be weighing the impact of pulling off such a historic feat. “Are you sure we’re ready?”

Chris answered brazenly, “Absolutely.”

Walter leaned back in his chair and put both hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling. “Wow, that would really show the world something. I like it.”

That they were ready to do a spacewalk was news to Peter, let alone launching a rocket so soon.

Walter pitched his body forward and directed his attention toward Peter. “Well if we do this, I want to launch before SpaceQuest does. Do you think you can have your astronauts ready by then?”

Peter hadn’t yet observed their training to know exactly where they were in readiness. He shook his head. “Again, I’m not sure, but they’re a pretty impressive group. I think if we put in some long hours, possibly.”

“Who would you recommend for the two-man crew?”

Peter rubbed his hands on his legs. “Probably Jesse and Blake.”

Walter glanced at Chris. “Do you agree with that?”

“Yes, those are our two best, and I would suggest Blake doing the spacewalk.”

Peter piped up, “Has he trained for that?”

Chris’s face took on a self-assured expression. “Yes, but he would need more. All we want him to do is exit and crawl a short distance along the spacecraft. Something similar to China’s first EVA.”

Walter chuckled. “And maybe like them, our man proudly waves his country’s flag.”

Chris lifted both arms. “Why not?”

Walter shook his head. “I like all of this, and at this point I say it’s a Go. However, I have an open-door policy. If at any point anyone has concrete reason to believe the mission will fail, I want to be told about it right away. If it is a valid concern, I’ll immediately pull the plug. I want to win this thing, not drive this company into the ground.”

Peter gave a cautious nod.

“All right, let’s do it. Let’s set a tentative launch date for September 21st. I want to make this a spectacle. I suggest we get the press involved shortly after launch. I want the world to see our success and make it that much tougher for NASA not to award us that contract.” Walter closed the file in front of him. “I’ll get the final approval from the owner before coordinating with our Nevada launch site.” He stood. “All right, gentlemen, we have just pushed in all of our chips. Let’s make this gamble pay off.”

PETER SAT AT his desk intently studying the manual on the Iris spacecraft. He found the capsule had many similarities to the Galileo, including its control panel layout. He looked up for a moment to rest his eyes and was shocked to see darkness had settled outside his window. He glanced down at his watch. Wow, already 8:50. Peter had been so engaged, he wasn’t sure if anyone was left in the building. Since his main purpose for staying late was to snoop around Chris’s office, he decided to take a relaxing stroll through the building to see if anyone was left.

After walking through most of the complex, Peter found the place empty. The last section to inspect was Mahogany Row, where Chris’s office was, along with some of the other bigwigs. As he casually strolled down the empty hallway, he nonchalantly peeked out of the corner of his eye into the offices he passed, looking for any sign of life. The corridor was eerily quiet; the only sound was his footsteps. He stopped midway at a counter that had a coffee maker. He yelled out in a booming voice that vibrated through the large corridor. “Anyone here? I’m going to make some coffee. Would anyone like some?”

A strong voice with burly overtones answered from behind. “What are you still doing here?”

Peter jerked around to see Walter approaching, briefcase in hand. “Oh, hey, Walter. I’m just working late trying to get up to speed on Iris. There’s still a lot I need to learn about the spacecraft, especially if I am going to help my team be ready to fly by nine twenty-one.”

Walter smiled as he patted Peter hard on the back. “Well, don’t work too late.” He continued down the hallway toward the stairs.

“I won’t. Any idea if anyone else is left in the office who might want some coffee? Otherwise, I’m making just one cup.”

Walter raised his hand as he kept on walking. “You and I are the only fools left, and I’m out of here.” The president then turned and started down the staircase, his steps softly echoing out of the opening. A loud voice came roaring back, “Good night.”

Peter cupped his hands around his mouth. “Good night.” He went back to making his coffee. Once he had a cup of fresh brewed java in his hands, he walked back to his desk, again casing out the place to verify no one was left. He decided to spend another ten minutes reviewing the Iris manual, allowing Walter enough time to be out of the parking lot and long gone.

The unexpected vibration of his cell phone rattling on his desk broke the stillness in his office. He touched the screen. He smiled to see a text from Anya. Please call me around 11pm your time. I want to talk.

Knowing it was early in the morning for her, he wondered what was on her mind. He quickly answered back. Will do.

She texted back. Thanks. Love you.

He answered. Ditto.

Peter set the phone back on his desk. He looked at his watch as a cocky grin shot across his face. It’s time to play Mr. Spy. He pulled out a couple of spy tools from his briefcase and placed them in his pocket before walking directly to Mahogany Row. To confirm no one showed up in the area while he was gone, he went back to the coffee machine and called out again. “Anyone here? I’m going to make some coffee.” He stood still and listened, nothing. He grabbed a small wrapped candy from a dish before turning around and leaning against the counter. He casually unwrapped the mint as he eyed the hallway from side to side. Feeling confident he was the only one left, he popped the small treat in his mouth. Time to get to work. Instantly the theme music from Mission Impossible started playing in his head as he treaded softly down the hallway.

He first turned on the lights of a handful of offices in a row, including Chris’s. Any single lit office could draw suspicion from the parking lot, including the glow from a computer screen. Though the cleaning crew typically worked a later shift, having a few offices lit would give the impression they were there.

After turning on the last light, he strolled over to the storage room at the end of the hallway. He grabbed the vacuum and rolled the machine back to Chris’s office. After entering the well-lit room he left the door slightly ajar. He then rolled the vacuum to the center of the room by the couch and plugged it in, to further the cleaning crew illusion.

He quickly crossed to Chris’s desk and sat down. He was stunned to see Chris’s Rolex sitting in plain view. What an idiot leaving a $20,000 watch lying around. Peter was tempted to snatch it just to piss off the old man, but he knew better than to leave any clue someone had been in the office, and didn’t want to get some cleaning lady fired. Besides, it was probably a fake if it was left so carelessly out in the open. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves before pushing in a SID-issued USB thumb-drive into the computer. He promptly booted up the unit. While waiting for the program on the thumb-drive to locate the computer’s passwords, he started searching through the desk.

The first few drawers had various business related stuff, nothing of interest. He shuffled through some business cards, but all seemed legit. The bottom file drawer was locked. He bent down to see it had a basic pin-and-tumbler lock.

He pulled out a pick set from his pants pocket and set the leather case on the desk. He unsnapped the pouch and pulled out a tension wrench, along with what he suspected was the right-sized pick. He always prided himself with the speed he could open such locks, usually kicking the ass of his fellow CIA agents. He glanced at his watch to challenge himself. Start now. He then slipped the wrench into the small keyhole to determine the direction the key would spin. Left. He kept constant pressure on the tool before he quickly slipped in the metal pick over the wrench. He began to fiddle with the instrument, expertly adjusting each pin within the lock casing, starting with the one farthest back. He listened for a faint clicking sound as he worked each obstacle. The pressure he applied to the wrench insured the pins wouldn’t fall back down and ruin his progress. A small bead of sweat started to trickle down the center of his forehead, tickling him. After a short moment of struggling with the last pin, the wrench turned, unlocking the drawer. Yeah, baby. He wiped the sweat off his forehead before smugly looking down at his watch. Fifty-five seconds, not bad.

He pulled open the file drawer and did a quick scan of the files. He read labels like Expense Reports, Aerospace Companies, NASA… etc. He saw nothing alarming until his fingers walked across a file labeled Personal. He pulled out the file and opened it. Inside were some letters from Chris’s kids, the pink slip for his car, a mortgage quote. He was about to close up the folder before his eyes widened. He found an old tattered paper labeled Gambling Log. Peter remembered Gavin informing him that Chris had a serious gambling problem. Peter studied the paper. On top was a bank account number. Handwritten entries listed Chris’s winnings and losses over the last couple of years. He was shocked to see entries in the tens of thousands of dollars range. Where the hell does this guy get that kind of money? He pulled out his smart phone and took a picture of the paper.

Peter looked up to see the computer had located the password. He tilted his head in puzzlement when he saw it was Anne, his mother’s name. Thinking the coincidence was strange, he leaned over and pulled out the thumb-drive before rebooting the computer. He resumed examining the paper.

There appeared to be a small list of casinos. All but the bottom two had been scribbled out. Next to each loss was a handwritten comment in pencil saying open, paid, or settled. The word open had obviously been erased and replaced with paid or settled with dates added. Some of the larger losses had been settled rather than paid, many within the last few days. One $15,000 debt was today’s date. With the amounts being so large, Peter was sure Chris was using a credit line at the hotel casinos. He wondered what “settled” meant? Did he do something to pay off those debts? SID would need to do a little research.

The computer had booted and was requesting the password. He shuddered as he typed in Anne, wondering if the name was in any way associated with his mother. Bingo, the password worked. He went back to searching through the personal file while the computer finished booting. Nothing more caught his attention in the folder.

He put the paperwork back and put the file in the exact slot as he found it, then closed the drawer and locked it. He began to do a broad search on the computer, looking for anything suspicious.

Peter’s whole body jolted to attention when a faint sound echoed down the hallway. He turned his head slightly to position his ear toward the cracked doorway. A terrifying revelation hit him that the soft sound was footsteps, which were increasing in intensity. He quickly put the computer in hibernation mode before looking for a place to hide. His only choice was under the large wooden desk. He quickly grabbed his notepad, phone and pick set case before moving out the chair and quietly squeezing down into the dark, cramped space. Steps were fast approaching as he leaned over and pulled the chair slowly in as far as it would go.

His heart stopped when the steps entered the office. Shit. He hoped it was the cleaning lady, possibly coming to retrieve the vacuum. It soon became obvious that the approaching sounds were not from a maid’s soft shoes, but something hard-soled with a heel, possibly cowboy boots, which were Chris’s favorite. The footfalls stopped for a moment in the middle of the room. Peter’s brain went into overdrive trying to come up with a story why he was there. How the hell could he explain hiding under a desk? He couldn’t. Chris would instantly assume he was still with SID and his cover would be blown.

His body went rigid when Chris called out. “Hello?”

The boot sounds resumed and the resonance increased, making it clear the man was walking toward the desk. Peter’s face tightened as he looked down to see a shadow appear through the tiny slit between the floor and the bottom of the front desk panel hiding him. The noise stopped at its closest. Chris’s legs were inches from him on the other side of the thin wooden panel. He didn’t budge. Didn’t even breathe.

“There you are, baby.” Chills ran down Peter’s body as the Rolex wristband slid on the wooden desk just above his head. “I would hate to lose you after what I had to do to get you.”

The jewelry rattled a little before he heard a click; he assumed Chris had put on the watch. Peter let out a deep breath when the man turned and walked back toward the door. His relief was shortlived when Chris’s boots stopped. They seemed to spin on the wooden floor before their thuds indicated the man was returning to his desk. Damn it. Why is he coming back? Does he suspect someone’s here? Was something out of place on the desk? Peter once again held his breath as the footsteps swelled in volume. This time they came around the desk. His pulse shot up when the chair started to move out. He was screwed.

A few intense seconds passed as his heart beat in his throat. Peter could see Chris’s legs from under the desk, but for some reason they didn’t move. After what seemed like an eternity, the extreme silence was broken. “Damn it, she didn’t clean my chair.”

Peter moved only his eyeballs to peer down at the chair’s fabric seat just inches away, and saw a large stain.

“I need to find her and make sure she cleans this.”

Peter relaxed slightly as the chair started coming back into the small space. He squeezed in his legs as tight as he could, allowing the chair to enter without touching him.

He dropped his head and exhaled when the boots moved off toward the door. Chris exited, calling out for the cleaning lady as he marched down the hallway. Peter quickly pushed out the chair. He took the computer out of hibernation mode before shutting it down completely, disappointed he was unable to search the hard drive. Before tip-toeing toward the doorway, he did a swift onceover of the area to double-check everything was as he’d found it.

Chris was deep in the stairwell, still calling out. Peter peeked outside—all clear. He peeled off his gloves as he hustled in the opposite direction from the stairwell. He had to get back to his office before Chris came by there looking for the cleaning lady. His boss would certainly know he was still in the building with the evidence left on his desk and question where he was.

Peter came to the last long stretch toward his office and stopped behind a large pillar. He had to pass through a wide, open area filled with a bunch of employee cubicles. Two main aisles ran parallel through the area. He saw Chris’s head bobbing down one of the aisles as he walked toward the hallway that led to Peter’s office. Once he exited the aisle, it would be too late for Peter to beat him.

Being over six foot, Peter towered over the cubicle walls. To ensure Chris didn’t see him, he bent down and awkwardly raced down the long carpeted stretch, feeling like a duck waddling along. Fortunately, the aisle he was in was closer to his office. When he reached the end of his passageway, he peeked across the room through a crack between two cubicle walls to see Chris was about ten feet from reaching his exit. Peter quickly slipped off his shoes to silence his steps before bolting across the wooden hallway floor, sprinting straight into his office. He raced through his room and practically flew into his chair, tossing his shoes under his desk.

Chris called out. “Hello, anyone here?”

A set of stereo ear plugs lay on his desk. Peter shoved them into his ears before burying his head in the Iris manual. He wiped the sweat off his forehead before taking a huge gulp of oxygen to slow down his speeding heart. With the earphones not connected to anything, he could hear Chris advancing to his office. Soon the man was at his doorway. “Hey, Peter, how come you’re not answering me?”

Peter kept studying, pretending not to hear the man. Chris started to walk in and this time yelled. “Hey, Peter!”

Peter looked up and plastered a surprised look on his face. He took the ear plugs out and innocently answered, “Oh! Hi, Chris.”

“You didn’t hear me calling?”

Peter was struggling not to pant as he spoke. “Sorry, I was listening to music. What are you doing here?”

Chris approached the desk. “I had to pick up something in my office. Have you seen the cleaning lady?”

Peter leaned back in his chair. “I saw her earlier when I went to get some coffee by your office.”

“Yeah, looks like she was working in it. I’ve been trying to find her. I want her to clean off a coffee stain on my chair.” Chris put his hands on his waist and lifted an eyebrow. “So what are you working on?”

Peter started to point toward the manual when a frightening sight made his stomach plunge. The plug-in for his ear plugs was lying in clear view on the desk, an obvious sign he wasn’t listening to music. To prevent Chris from seeing the evidence, he quickly got up. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m studying the Iris manual, and I have a question on the number of thrusters and their locations.” He started walking over toward the detailed schematic of the capsule hanging on his wall.

“So I guess you decided to make yourself comfortable?”

Peter turned to see Chris looking at his socked feet as he followed. He casually grinned. “Yeah, since it was going to be a late night.”

When Peter reached the drawing he couldn’t think of a question. He already knew the machine pretty well. So he played dumb and asked one he knew the answer for. “I wonder if we have redundancy in the system for orbital maneuvering and altitude control.”

Chris grew impatient, shifting from foot to foot. “Absolutely, that’s why we have two thrusters at every location. Each one of those suckers puts out 90 pounds of force, which alone is sufficient to do the job. So we have duel-redundancy in all axes.” Chris took a step back. “You know we need to get you in the simulator. Let’s try to schedule that in the next day or two. I’ve got to get going. If you see the cleaning lady, please tell her about the stain.”

Though Peter did not give a rat’s ass about the stain, he pretended to care as he patted the man’s back when he turned to leave. “Will do, Boss.”

15

MOVING FORWARD

Once Chris left the building, Peter erased any evidence anyone had been in the area, putting the vacuum back and turning off the lights on Mahogany Row. Hustling back to his office, he took a quick glance at his watch—10:50 P.M. Anya was now weighing heavily on his mind, wondering what she wanted to talk about. He was relieved it was still before eleven and he hadn’t missed her deadline. He closed his door before trekking across his office and plopping down into his seat.

He took a deep breath to gather himself before speed dialing her number on his cell phone. He wiggled his foot as he waited for her soothing voice.

“Zdrah-stvooy.”

“Hey baby, it’s me.”

Her voice got higher. “Hi, Peter. I’m so glad you were able to call.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it ever since I got your text. So are you getting ready for work?”

“Actually, I am in my car in the parking lot. I was waiting for your call. So where are you?”

“I’m still at work.”

“Oh my, it’s late there. What in the world is keeping you at the office?”

Peter eyed the plug-in of his headphones still lying on his desk as he smiled. “I guess you could say I am just doing some catch-up work.”

“Have you had dinner?”

As if on cue, Peter’s stomach growled, reminding him he needed to give it a little attention. “Not yet; I guess it’ll be a late one. So what did you want to talk about?”

Her voice became intense. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about us.”

Peter’s knee started bouncing through the ominous pause. Is she going to break up with me?

Anya cleared her throat. “I’ve decided I need to be open with you. You need to know why I left. I don’t want to hide anything from you.”

Peter still wasn’t sure where she was going. “That’s the only kind of relationship I want, one where we are completely honest and open with each other.”

“Exactly. Having said that, you should know I was brought up to always be strong and never show any kind of weakness.”

Peter had always been impressed with her strength. “We all have our issues. That’s part of being in love, accepting both the good and the bad of the other. Believe me, I know I’m not perfect, even though I may think I am.”

Anya giggled. “You’re perfect in my eyes. I know I could be happy with you the rest of my life.”

Peter relaxed. “Ditto.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I want you to know why I came back to Russia.”

“Well, I was surprised you left. I thought we were set to live our lives together.”

“I thought so, too, but I was confused and needed some time to think. I was afraid I was too in love with you.”

Peter was now confused. “How could you be too in love?”

“Something happened when you were rescuing the cosmonauts that I didn’t tell you about.”

Peter straightened up. “What’s that?”

“I had an anxiety attack in the control room. I had to be carried out on a stretcher.”

Peter’s grip tightened around his phone. “Why didn’t you tell me that? That’s terrible. Where were you taken?”

She gave a reluctant sigh as she spoke guardedly. “I was sent to medical. When I came to, I wanted to get back to the control room immediately, but the doctor wouldn’t let me. In fact they had to sedate me to prevent me from leaving.”

Peter started to grind his teeth.

“Eventually the doctor explained the attack was brought on because of my deep love for you and my fear that something terrible will happen when you are on an assignment, especially when you’re in space. He said if I’m put into a similar situation, it will probably happen again, though there is some medicine I can take.”

Peter shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have been there for you.”

“Me too, because then I wouldn’t have had the attack in the first place.”

Peter smiled at the conundrum. “Good point.”

Her voice started to crack. “I was so disappointed in myself. I thought I was stronger than that. But as the doctor said, when the body takes over, there’s nothing you can do.”

“I’m glad you’re telling me this.”

Sincerity lingered in her voice. “Peter, I don’t want to change you. I know you like working for SID, and I know you love flying in space. That’s why I left. I didn’t want you to have to make a choice. Besides, I doubted I could handle being in a relationship where these attacks could occur.”

Peter’s knee resumed bouncing. Damn, she’s thinking of leaving. “I’m positive we can work things out. In fact my new assignment is here in Houston, and there will be no flying in space.”

“That’s nice, but who knows where the next assignment will take you and what dangers you’ll be put in?”

Peter leaned back in his chair. “True.”

“But I’ve come to realize, I can’t live without you. I’m too in love. Mom used to be an emotional wreck during Dad’s missions, but she never let on. She wanted him to be happy and flying in space was one of his true loves. Space was the mistress Mom had to compete with. She learned to deal with the anxiety. I used to think she was crazy, but now I understand. When you are deeply in love, you can handle any problem. I would rather be a part of your life and deal with these episodes than be without you.”

It was tough for Peter to grasp her emotional pain, but he wanted to. He was glad she was willing to work through the challenging issue. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I just want us to be together forever.”

“It means a lot to hear you say that, Peter.” Her voice perked up. “Let’s try this again. Do you still want to move in together?”

Peter slammed his fist on his desk. “Hell yes!”

A relieved snigger came through the phone. “Okay, I’m going back to my boss to ask for that transfer again. He’s probably going to think I’m some unstable, love-struck girl.”

“Hey, if he doesn’t grant it, then quit. I’ll take care of you.”

Anya answered in a soft tone. “I know you would.”

“BOSS, YOU LOOK BEAT.”

Peter tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes as he straightened up in his chair, grabbing his cup of coffee off his desk. Sitting across from him were Jesse and Blake. “I was in the office until midnight last night getting up to speed on Iris. In fact, all of us are going to have to start putting in late hours. That’s why I called you two here this morning.” He took a big swig of his coffee, hoping the caffeine would jolt him awake. “EarthOrbit is about to make an aggressive move in the space world. One we hope will catapult us to the front of the pack and get NASA’s attention.”

The eyes of both men widened, awaiting Peter’s next words.

“We have decided to take a bold step and launch our first manned rocket on September 21st.” Peter purposely took a dramatic pause as he set his coffee down and slowly leaned back in his chair, observing the men’s reaction. He was pleased to see an eager look on both faces. “I have selected you two to carry out this mission.”

Blake practically fell out of his chair as he powered his fist high into the air. “Yeah, baby!”

Peter grinned at the young man.

Blake tried to regain his composure. “Sorry about that, Boss, but that is some pretty awesome news.”

“I’m glad you’re excited.” Peter looked at Jesse, who surprisingly had a more serious look on his face. “What do you think, Jesse?”

Jesse directed a cold stare out the window.

The weighty pause caused Blake, with his silly-ass grin, to glance over at his partner, as if wondering why he wasn’t as ecstatic as he was. He looked like a child waiting for his mother to give him the okay to open his present.

Jesse turned his head back around with a calculated look. “Are you sure we’re ready?”

Peter understood the veteran’s concern. Jesse’s number-one priority was the safety of the crew. “Walter and Chris feel we are, and from what I have seen, I think we are as well. Like any mission, there will be risks. But at this point we’re all positive we can pull this off.” Peter leaned back in his chair as he watched Jesse ponder the idea. Peter knew his next statement would really shock the guys. “We’re also considering doing a spacewalk.”

Blake enthusiastically punched the air again but didn’t say a word. Jesse’s eyes widened as his jaw dropped. “That’s pretty ambitious.”

Peter said matter-of-factly, “Yes, it is.”

Jesse rubbed his hands together before sharpening his gaze directly at Peter. “Would you fly this mission?”

Instantly Peter thought of Anya, and because of her fears wasn’t sure he would. Jesse’s concern was if the equipment would do the job. Peter was confident it could. “Absolutely, I’d love to be one of the first men to fly that rocket and get back into space. I betcha it’ll be one hell of a ride.”

Jesse studied Peter for a moment. “I bet it will be some ride. All right, I’m in.”

Blake chimed in. “Me too, Boss.”

AFTER JESSE AND Blake left, Peter decided to do some more snooping around. As much as he was enjoying his new position, he was first and foremost a SID agent. He ventured over to the Assembly Building, where he thought he might know the shop manager. In reviewing the company’s directory, he noticed the name, Carl Stewart. There was a Carl Stewart who worked at the Space Vehicle Mockup Facility at the Johnson Space Center when he was at NASA. Carl was a huge fan of the Apollo program and constantly bugged Peter about meeting his father. Peter eventually gave in to the man’s requests and organized a lunch for the two. Carl later told Peter that meeting a moonwalker was a dream come true. If this was the same Carl, Peter would have a solid ally within the company.

Carl’s office was located right in the middle of the shop floor within the Assembly Building. Even with orange plugs balled up and stuffed into his ears, Peter still heard the loud machines operating all around him as he trekked down the marked walkway. The smell of grease and freshly cut metal engulfed his senses. As he looked down the path toward his destination, he saw Carl’s office was an enclosed room surrounded by windows, allowing the manager to keep an eye on the shop floor. When Peter was close enough to see clearly through the windows, he saw the tippy top of a bald head just sticking out above a computer monitor. Though the Carl he knew had hair, he had to remind himself that was over seven years ago. Peter held out hope this was still the same man as he lightly knocked on the door’s glass pane that had “Shop Manager” painted on it.

When the man poked his head over the monitor, Peter instantly recognized the face. Carl did a double take before a big grin appeared and he rose, signaling Peter to come in.

After Peter opened the door, Carl loudly called out over the shop noise flowing in. “Peter Novak. Wow, it’s been a long time.”

“Hey, Carl, it has been.” Peter shut the door quieting the room. He removed the earplugs as he walked over to the desk and extended his hand. He lowered his tone. “It’s good to see you.”

Carl’s hand, covered in dried grease stains, was firm as they shook. “Good to see you, buddy. Have a seat.”

Sitting, Peter joked, “What happened to all your hair?”

“Teenage girls is what happened.” Carl sat before he casually leaned back, a loud squeak coming from his tattered chair. “You look good, so obviously you don’t have any.”

Peter smiled. “Not yet.”

“So what are you doing here? Did you join EarthOrbit?”

“I did, a few days ago. I saw your name on the directory and had to stop by.”

“I’m glad you did.” Carl leaned forward as he put his hands on his desk. His mood became somber as he let out a sad sigh. “I was sorry to hear about your father. I took a shot of tequila in his honor when I heard the news.”

Peter gave the man a half smile as he inclined his head. “His favorite.”

Carl perked up. “I know, he told me when I met him. I have to tell you again, that lunch was so cool. Hearing your dad describe, in detail, what it was like walking and driving on the moon was phenomenal. He answered every question I had and never made me feel rushed. He was so gracious with his time. Something I’ll always treasure.”

Peter smiled. Over the next ten minutes, the two proceeded to catch up on each other’s lives, occasionally being interrupted by a shop worker. Soon they were discussing Carl’s job and the overall workings of EarthOrbit. Peter probed Carl with questions, making sure to come across as an executive wanting to learn more about the new company he was now working for. A problem that caught Peter’s attention were some discrepancies Carl mentioned he was having with the Receiving Department.

Carl was obviously frustrated when he discussed his concern. “Normally the operation on this floor runs smoothly. However, some parts have come in lately that have mysteriously had their identification numbers switched after being received, which has developed some confusion.”

“Any idea why that is happening or who is doing it?”

Carl shrugged. “No idea why. However, it’s one of my clerks making the changes because she is being instructed to by management.”

“What parts?”

Carl scratched his head before he pulled out a binder. “I don’t remember exactly. Keep in mind we have thousands of items coming through Receiving. I do remember one of the companies because it was the only German company we work with.” He started rustling through the papers in the binder before his eyes found what he was looking for. He slipped on a pair of reading glasses as he studied the paper for a second. “Krause Aerospace, that’s the company.”

Peter made a mental note. “When you get a chance, let me know which parts, and I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

“Will do.”

KUANG HAD CALLED Lin to his office. He wanted to get an update from the MSS assistant director on their scheme to bomb the International Space Station. His hope was that their inside man had convinced the American space company to launch their rocket early, unknowingly carrying out the operation.

Lin had an arrogant look as his voice swelled with pride. “The mission is moving forward. Our operative has informed us that the American company plans to launch their rocket on September 21st.”

With a concerned look, Kuang quizzed the man. “Is everything in place to ensure our operation will be a success?”

Lin answered, his voice tight and efficient. “Yes, everything is in place and we feel there is a ninety percent chance of success. We even learned they plan on informing the press soon after launch, hoping to show the world what their rocket can do.”

Kuang’s face muscles relaxed. “Perfect. Are you certain there is no way the Americans can trace the cause of the accident back to us?”

With a cocky nod, Lin confirmed they had covered their tracks. “There will be no trail leading to China. All the evidence will point toward an accident caused by EarthOrbit.”

Kuang examined the man for a moment. He was impressed by Lin’s poise. “Let’s not fail.”

Lin brazenly shook his head. “We won’t.”

16

STEP UP

On a quiet Friday morning in his office, Peter decided to do some detective work on his computer, researching Krause Aerospace. Carl had gotten back to him on what parts were having their identification numbers mysteriously changed, which were all associated with the parachute deployment system for the Iris spacecraft. Nothing seemed to stand out in the German company’s files that he was able to access. He had also heard from SID about the bank account number found in Chris’s office. There were no red flags other than the large-dollar transactions. The casino names given to SID were different hotels from those researched in the past, and checked out fine. So far, his leads were not finding anything substantial. He wondered if there was anything for him to find. Frustrated, he leaned back in his chair and stared out through his open doorway. As he watched workers hustling by in the hallway, his mind began to fill with thoughts of Anya. He was excited she was on a plane flying back to the States. He glanced down at his watch; she was to arrive in less than four hours. His hope was to propose to her sometime over the weekend.

Peter forced himself to focus on his computer screen. A faint knock on his door interrupted his concentration. He looked up to see Jesse entering. His heart sank to see the commander walking very gingerly.

“Got a moment, Peter?”

Peter leaned over his desk. “What’s up with you?”

Jesse stayed quiet as he labored toward the chair across from Peter’s desk. Once there, he carefully lowered himself before letting out an exhausted sigh. “I tweaked my back last night.”

“Damn. How did that happen?”

“Just lifting up my two-year-old, something I’ve done a hundred times. I felt this awful, sharp pain in my lower back. It was so bad it knocked me to my knees.”

“Have you had it looked at?”

“I just got back from medical. The x-rays came out negative. I was given some pain medicine and anti-inflammatory pills.”

“Will you be able to do any training?”

“The doctor told me to hold off doing any physical activity at this point. He said I can work in the simulator as long as I can deal with the discomfort and it’s set in static mode. He doesn’t want me experiencing any sudden movements.”

Jesse’s limitation would put a big dent in the team’s preparation for the flight. “Any idea when you’ll get better?”

“The doctor hopes in a week or two. However, if the pain persists, he suggests having an MRI.”

Peter shook his head. “Damn, there’s no way we can launch by the twenty-first if you can’t train. Besides, who knows if your back will be completely healed by then?”

Jesse shook his head. “Sorry, Boss, I was really looking forward to this mission.” The man winced in pain as he adjusted himself slightly in his seat. “Maybe you should put someone else in command.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. Was he hearing this right? Did the space veteran just offer up his seat? Practically every astronaut he knew would be fighting and begging to stay on any space flight. Something seemed amiss. Jesse’s words and expressions seemed to lack sincerity. Could Jesse be trying to get out of the assignment? Was he scared to be the first man to fly the Zeus rocket? Peter quickly brushed off his suspicions, given the former Navy SEAL’s background. “I know Walter wants a veteran at the controls. Let me talk to him and see what he thinks.”

PETER LOOKED DIRECTLY at Walter. “I have some bad news.” The president’s eyes narrowed in on Peter. Chris repositioned himself in his chair so he now faced Peter as well. “Jesse pulled his back last night. Right now, he’s questionable to fly the mission.”

Walter slapped his open hand on his leg. “Gosh darn dog it!”

Chris blurted out, “How did that happen?”

Peter turned to his boss. “Lifting his kid.”

Peter looked back at Walter to see him staring out the window. Water’s voice had a faint tint of sadness as he softly spoke. “Maybe we postpone the mission?”

Chris extended an open faced hand in the direction of Walter while vigorously shaking his head. “We don’t want to do that. We have this window of opportunity to showcase our rocket.” One of Chris’s temples looked to be swelling as he looked back at Peter. “Has he been checked out by a doctor?”

“Yes, he can’t do any physical activity. He’s on medication with the hopes it might subside in a week or two.”

“Then I suggest we continue preparing for the scheduled launch and re-evaluate the situation then.”

Walter swiveled his chair around toward both men. “I agree, though we can’t afford to lose two weeks of training, not if we want to launch by the twenty-first. The whole team still needs to prepare, and we need the astronauts’ involvement.” A suggestive grin slowly crept across Walter’s face as he directed his gaze straight at Peter. “How about you fill in for Jesse over the next few weeks? We’ll have Jesse observe all the training from the control room so he doesn’t lose any ground.”

Peter interlocked his fingers on his lap. Though he had been itching to try out the Iris simulator, he wondered if Jesse would heal fast enough. Would they expect him to fly the mission? “What if Jesse doesn’t recover? We do have four other men on our astronaut team.”

Walter leaned back in his chair and raised both hands. “Then you fly. We need an experienced commander on our first flight, and no one has more experience than you.”

Right away, Peter thought of Anya and her recent anxiety attack. As much as he would love to fire off in one of those Zeus rockets, she was now his number one priority. Shit, Jesse will probably get better in time. This might even allow me to get a unique perspective on the company and possibly improve my chances of learning if any conspiracy is going on. And besides, I am here because of SID. Peter gave an audacious grin. “Sounds exciting. I’d be more than happy to step up and fill in for Jesse, and if he doesn’t recover in time, then I’d love to fly your rocket.”

“Great, let’s get you started today.”

Peter quickly raised his hand. “Sorry, Walter, but I’m leaving soon to pick up my girlfriend at the airport.”

“Oh, you have a girlfriend. What’s her name?”

“Anya. She’s Russian.”

“Is she flying in from Russia?”

“Yeah, and we haven’t seen each other in awhile.”

“I get it. You want to spend some time together. Tell you what. I have a nice beach house in Galveston. How about you two enjoy a nice quiet weekend there alone and you can come back Monday morning all charged up and raring to go.”

Peter loved Galveston, and felt it would be the perfect romantic backdrop to propose. “That would be great, thank you.”

Walter opened a drawer and pulled out a set of keys. He tossed them to Peter. “Here are the keys. The place is stocked with food and booze. Don’t worry about cleaning up; I have a service that takes care of that.” He ripped off a piece of paper from a small notepad on the corner of his desk and began to write. “Here’s the address.” He handed the paper to Peter.

Peter grabbed the small slip. “This is perfect. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Enjoy yourself. Right now you’re my commander, and I want you to be energized and excited.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be pumped and ready to go on Monday.”

A SOFT EVENING breeze blew off the Gulf toward Anya and Peter as they sat together on Galveston’s sandy beach. Anya was between Peter’s legs leaning back against his chest. His arms were wrapped tightly around her as they both stared out at the open sea. The small waves sparkled from the reflection of the full moon in the clear, night sky above, shining down over the deserted beach. Peter dug his feet deeper into the sand as he pulled her even tighter against him, his chin resting on her shoulder. The heavy salty breeze mixed with Anya’s beautifully scented hair. With his lips inches from her ear, he whispered, “This is wonderful.”

Without moving her head, Anya’s sultry voice mixed perfectly with the smooth sound of the waves. “Like a dream.”

Peter grinned as he turned and lightly kissed her neck through her hair. This was turning out to be a perfect romantic evening. He had grilled up a couple of prime filets on an outside BBQ earlier in the evening, which they ate on the deck of Walter’s beach house. They had practically polished off two bottles of wine and were feeling quite relaxed. His plan was to propose to her later at the house. His little scheme was to surprise her with a child’s pirate-themed birthday cake that had the words “Soul Mates Forever” written on it. Placed in the icing was a tiny pirate treasure chest that had the ring inside.

As he looked up at the moon, he thought of how close he had come to missing out on all of this. Twice. He gave a quick thanks to God before setting his chin back on her shoulder. Immediately he thought of the mission he would soon be training for. Though the odds were slim he would actually fly, he wondered if he should warn Anya of the possibility. Because it might alarm her, he decided to wait until the substitution became more definite. He looked back up at the moon, Viktor’s final resting place. “I miss your father.”

Anya reached up to his arms and lightly squeezed. “I miss him too.” She looked skyward. “Every time I see the moon, I think of dad and send him my love.”

“It was great getting to know him better. I can’t tell you how many times he made me laugh, especially when things got tough. He always seemed so cool under pressure.”

“Did you see him die?”

Peter was surprised by the question. Up to this point, they had never discussed the details of Viktor’s death. He figured she had finally come to terms with his passing and wanted to know how his last moments played out. “He was behind me in the Soyuz when I opened the hatch, which we both knew would kill him. He was in his flight suit with his helmet on. We had already said our goodbyes. I heard him over the headset take his last breath before dying. I purposely did not look back. He was a strong man.” Anya’s hands squeezed his arms even tighter. “But over the next few hours, whenever I returned to the spacecraft, I poked my head through the hatch and talked to him as if he was still alive, which was reassuring and comforting. Thanks to him, I never felt alone, even on the back side of the moon as I prepared to die.”

Anya’s voice cut through the humid night air as she spoke in an even tone. “I never told you this, but during that last pass on the backside when Dad was going to die, I felt a tingling sensation in my stomach while sitting in mission control. A feeling I had never experienced before. I assumed this was around the time he probably died. To better cope with his passing, I imagined the tingle was a part of his soul shifting into our unborn child. So when I lost the baby, I felt like I was losing Dad all over again, adding to the grief of hearing that I had lost you too. It was all a terrible nightmare.”

This was the first time Anya had discussed the miscarriage. Peter had wanted to talk about the grim subject, hoping to comfort her, but whenever he addressed it she immediately redirected the conversation. He was pleased she was finally opening up. Peter brought his legs in tighter as he rubbed her arms. “I know losing your dad was heartbreaking. Then to think you were given false information about me which led to losing the baby.” He started shaking his head. “It just pisses me off every time I think about it. My heart breaks thinking of you having to deal with all those tragedies alone.”

Anya’s voice perked up. “Thank God he didn’t take you.”

A flash of light streaking through the sky caught Peter’s attention. He quickly lifted his hand to point. “Look, a shooting star.”

Anya quickly jerked her head up. “I see it.”

“Make a wish.”

Anya took a moment to think. “I wish for this moment to never end.”

So did Peter. He couldn’t contain himself. His gut told him this was the right time to propose. Screw the cake. He moved out his legs as he slid back in the sand.

Anya said sarcastically, “So much for not ending the moment.”

Peter grinned as he stood up and walked over in front of her. His shadow covered her face until he nervously fell to one knee. Her eyebrows were crinkled as she tilted her head, questioning what he was up to. He took her hand with both of his, cradling it as he caressed the soft skin across the back. “Anya, I also want this moment to last forever.”

Anya’s eyes widened as her lips parted.

“In fact I want us to last forever. I never want to think of being without you. I love you too much.” Peter leaned in slightly. He was surprised by the butterflies flying around in his stomach. “Anya, will you marry me?”

Anya’s jaw dropped. Without saying a word, she slowly worked her way up onto her knees. A big grin was on her face, inches from his. “Peter Novak, you’ve just made me the happiest woman alive. Yes, I would love to marry you!” As she leaned in he put his hand into her hair and pulled her toward him so their lips pressed tightly together. They shared a long and passionate kiss.

As they pulled apart, Peter said, “I’m sorry I don’t have the ring, it’s at the house. I planned on a more elaborate proposal later, but this seemed like the right time.”

She leaned back in, her breath warming his lips. She softly purred. “You did it perfect.” She kissed him and stood.

He was surprised to see her start pulling off her shirt. He stared at her white bra glistening in the moonlight as she dropped the shirt to the sand. “What are you doing?” He was unable to make out her facial expression as she looked down at him. Without answering, she unbuttoned her shorts. She seductively unzipped them before letting them fall to her feet. She slowly stepped out of them. In shock, Peter did a quick scan of the area to double-check no one was around. The beach was empty. With an evil grin, he looked back at his beauty, curious if the bra and panties were coming off, too.

“I think I am going to go for a midnight swim.”

She then brought her hands up to the bra’s front clip and unhooked it, releasing her beautiful breasts. Yeah, baby. She took off the bra and tossed it on top of her shirt. She looked amazing in the moonlight as she stood with her hands on her hips. Peter couldn’t help teasing her. “You look a little cold.”

“I’m not cold.” She pulled her panties down with both hands in a titillating way until she was completely bent over and the undies were at her feet. She lifted one foot out before quickly snapping herself back up, whipping her hair over her head alluringly. “But follow me into the water and you’ll find out what I really am.” She kicked off her panties and ran toward the water.

Peter couldn’t get out of his clothes fast enough.

17

BLAKE HAMILTON

It had been a busy week for Peter since getting engaged. Along with the long training hours, he and Anya had moved into a quaint rental home in southeast Houston close by the office. Regardless of the hectic week, he was enjoying every moment he was able to steal away with Anya. He was looking forward to spending even more time together when things slowed down. Regrettably, that wasn’t happening soon. There had been no improvement with Jesse’s back, and with only three weeks before launch, Peter’s training hours and studying would only intensify. The time was drawing near when he would have to inform Anya of the possibility he might fly the mission.

He was taking advantage of a forced break in the current training exercise to relax his brain as he stared out the window of the Iris mockup. He and Blake would soon be practicing their emergency escape from the capsule. Blake, who was responsible for opening the hatch, had already gone through the test. This was Peter’s first time.

They sat in uncomfortable seats in a stripped-down version of the Iris spacecraft, where the control panel was void of any monitors or instruments. The hard plastic seats were dimensionally accurate as was the layout within the mock-up so the men could get used to dealing with the obstacles they would encounter when quickly vacating the spacecraft. They were both in their silver flight suits with helmets on, visors up. Though Peter had been given instructions, he was waiting to hear from the instructor over the headset on when the exercise would start and what he should expect.

He figured they were elevated over two hundred feet in the air, the height their spacecraft would be when sitting on top of the Zeus rocket. When they were given the “go,” he would follow Blake out of the hatch, and each would clip his tether cord to a small trolley on his designated zip line ten feet away. They would jump off the platform and free fall for a few moments before the cable gradually straightened out and the trolley wheels engaged as they flew along for the remaining 250-foot ride, reaching speeds up to 40 miles per hour. The hope was this quick exit would take them out of harm’s way of an actual emergency, such as the rocket exploding. They would fly down to the end of the line where an elongated spring would slow them down before they slammed into a cushioned wall. If this had been an actual emergency, they would quickly unhook themselves and dive into a bunker close by, but for training purposes this was deemed too risky. Though Peter doubted such an escape system would actually save them from an explosion, it could still save their asses from other catastrophes. The zip line gave him peace of mind, especially considering Galileo had no such escape option.

Blake interrupted his thoughts. “You know, we’re going to be flying like a couple of superheroes down that line.”

Peter turned to his partner and was briefly blinded by a glint of sunlight reflecting off the control panel. “Cool, I’ll be Batman.”

Blake cocked his head. “If you’re Batman, that makes me Robin. I don’t want to be your sidekick.”

Peter decided to toy with the young man. “Okay, you be Batgirl.”

Blake chuckled. “I don’t think so. I’ll be the Human Torch, he’s my favorite superhero.”

Peter gave a nod. “Then the Human Torch it is. Just make sure you open that hatch quick enough or we’ll both be torched.”

Blake casually replied with a trace of humor. “I got you covered, Batman.”

Peter liked Blake. He had gotten to know the thirty-two year old former Air Force pilot better over the last week during training. With his blond hair and athletic good looks, Blake came across more like a surfer than an astronaut. Though he was often kidding around, Peter was impressed with the man’s skills and dedication.

Blake’s voice became inquisitive. “So what was it like on the backside of the moon?”

Peter adjusted himself, trying to find a more comfortable position in his seat. “It was very spiritual, especially coming around and seeing your home planet in all of its glorious colors rising over the desolate moon, simply a magnificent sight. I had this sudden sense of clarity in my existence, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I realized then how lucky I was to live on such a beautiful planet. After seeing those colors stand out over the surrounding black, it simply made me want to go home.”

Blake turned and looked at the barren control panel. He let the words hang over him as he seemed to digest the magnitude of experiencing such a moment. “I can’t wait to see Earth from space. I’ve heard all kinds of descriptions of the awesome sight, but it sounds like words can’t really describe it.”

“You’re right. It’s not just what you’ll see, but what you’ll feel. It changes you.”

Blake looked back, his eyes wide in awe. “Did it change you?”

Peter hesitated as he thought of Anya. “It made me realize how much I loved someone.”

Blake’s tone rose sharply. “A girlfriend?”

Peter lightly nodded. “Yes; in fact, we got engaged over the weekend.”

Blake raised his balled-up fist in Peter’s direction. “Congratulations; is this your first?”

Peter instantly thought of Viktor and their unique fist bump. He grinned ruefully as he understood why Blake would question this being the first go around for someone so old. He tapped Blake’s balled up hand. “Yep, first time taking the leap.”

“You’ll love it. I wouldn’t change a thing about being married. Having someone who loves and supports you is awesome.”

Peter again readjusted himself in the uncomfortable seat. “You seem like a good husband, which is impressive considering how most of the women in the office are constantly flirting with you.”

An apologetic look crossed the young man’s face. “It’s always good for the ego, but I would never do anything to jeopardize my relationship with Suzy.”

Their headsets came alive. “Gentlemen, we’ll be starting the exercise in fifteen minutes.”

“Roger,” Peter acknowledged the transmission as a sly grin crossed Blake’s face.

Blake resumed their conversation. “Any idea when you’ll get married?”

“We’re thinking springtime.”

“Nice. Here in Houston?”

Peter nodded. “Probably, though she’s from Russia. It’ll be a simple wedding.”

“How long has she lived in America?”

“She grew up in Russia before going to college at Georgetown. After getting her PhD she moved back to Russia where she has lived ever since. Her job brings her back to the U.S. often for business. We decided it was time to move in together, so she’s transferring her job out here. We just rented a home this week.”

Blake slapped his legs with both hands. “Well, damn! We need to have you two over for a BBQ and give her a good ole Texas welcome. How about this weekend?”

Peter hesitated for a moment; with Sunday their only day off, he really just wanted to gel with his fiancée after the crazy week. But maybe Anya would enjoy getting to know another couple. He turned to Blake. “Sure, that sounds great. When?”

“How about Sunday afternoon?”

Peter nodded in acceptance as he lifted a hand. “Perfect, but do me a favor, let’s not mention we’re training partners.”

Blake flashed an understanding nod. “No problem. I’ll just tell the wife you’re my new boss.”

Peter shrugged in accord. “Sounds good. So what should we bring?”

“Oh, don’t—”

A squawking voice blaring out through their headsets snapped Peter to attention. “Fire, emergency egress!”

“What?” Peter’s pulse leaped as he questioned if the voice was serious. Seeing Blake quickly unbuckle his seatbelt before turning to work on the hatch confirmed this was no joke. Peter fumbled with his belt before finally freeing himself. Whatever happened to the exercise starting in fifteen minutes? Damn!

Blake’s demeanor stayed steady as he called out over the headset, “Hatch opened,” before ripping out his headset cord and scrambling out of the spacecraft.

This was the first time for Peter to rush out of the capsule. He drew a sharp breath as he unplugged his headset and rolled over on his hands and knees on the couch to speedily follow Blake out of the hatch. As his head poked out of the opening, Blake was already hooking up his clamp to his zip line. Peter was doing fine until his flight suit snagged on something, preventing him from exiting. Damn it! He tried shaking his arm free, but was having no luck as precious seconds passed. Unfortunately the tight opening prevented him from turning around to see what he was caught on, and with his rigid helmet, his vision was blocked. He blindly kept shaking his arm trying to free himself. A sudden shadow appeared. Blake. Dude you’re supposed to be flying down that zip line. His partner quickly reached in and freed his arm before helping him out. Peter clambered to his feet, embarrassed, as Blake gave a quick thumbs-up before racing to his zip line. Peter was right behind. He clipped on as Blake jumped. Peter leaped off right behind his partner and started to fall parallel to the scaffolding before he felt a tug and began zipping along the line.

The ride was invigorating, the perfect release from all the stress he had felt all week. He yelled out a loud “Yippee!” as he looked down the line to see Blake clowning around, his hands out imitating a superhero in flight. Peter chuckled at his partner. As he approached the last fifteen feet, the trolley came into contact with the spring, and Peter’s body lurched forward uncontrollably. He estimated he had slowed down to around 10 miles per hour before he was about to hit. He turned his head and held his breath before crashing into the cushioned wall, which felt like falling off a top bunk bed.

He swallowed hard as he moved his body to verify all the parts were working properly. Everything was fine as he reached up and unhooked his clamp. His partner had already freed himself when the instructor walked toward them. He didn’t look happy.

Both men had their helmets off by the time the instructor reached them. He started shaking his head while his voice erupted in frustration. “That was way too slow. Did you two have a tea break up there or something?”

Peter’s mouth was slightly open as he tilted his head, raising both hands. “We were told the test wouldn’t start for fifteen minutes.”

The instructor narrowed his eyes directly at Peter. “You know better than anyone emergencies can happen at any time. You have to be ready at all times whenever you’re in that capsule.”

The man was right.

The instructor turned to Blake, his voice reaching an even higher octave. “What the hell are you doing coming down with Peter? You’ve been through this exercise before and know you should be way ahead of the commander. Plus you were screwing around on the way down.”

With his helmet under his arm, Peter stepped forward to defend his partner, his voice hardened and direct. “He stayed back to help me.”

By the instructor’s mannerism, it was obvious he didn’t care. “That’s bullshit. He knows the rules. He’s supposed to haul ass to that zip line, plain and simple. Instead he just burned himself up by hesitating.”

Blake spoke up. “Sorry, but there is no way I’m leaving my commander to die.”

The instructor pulled out a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote something on his clipboard. In a cocky tone he replied, “We’ll see what management has to say about that.”

The instructor was right once again. One man alive is better than none. As Blake’s boss, he should be the one to reprimand the young man. But how could he? Deep down, he wanted someone who would save his ass, just as he would for his partner.

Blake turned away from the instructor with a disgusted look; carrying his helmet by his side, he started walking back to the scaffolding to try the exercise again. As he passed Peter, a sly grin appeared on his face and he spoke in a soft tone so only Peter could hear it. “He doesn’t know I was the Human Torch. I’m not going to burn up. I’m a superhero.” He winked. “Besides, I’m not going to let you die.”

Peter smiled.

PETER HELD A bottle of wine as he and Anya walked up the few steps leading to Blake’s quaint two-story home. He wiped off the light bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face as he approached the blue-painted door under the covered porch. He was pleased the humidity was mild for a September day.

Anya pointed to something on the porch. “That’s cute.”

Peter knocked before turning to see what she meant, a charming, white porch swing that looked out over the front yard. “Looks just like the one my aunt has.” He looked out over the well-manicured yard as he waited for someone to open the door. He was surprised there were no toys about. Most of the other middle class homes on the cul-de-sac were cluttered with them. The door began to open and Peter turned back around. He smiled at Blake, who was standing in a pair of worn, leather flip-flops with a white Hawaiian shirt over a pair of loud orange surfing trunks that went down past his knees.

Blake raised both arms. “Welcome.”

Peter had to tease the young man. “Thanks, so are we going surfing later?”

Blake eyed Peter’s tan shorts and blue polo shirt. “Not you, old man, but maybe your pretty girlfriend.”

Peter turned to introduce Anya, who was all smiles in her blue sundress. “Blake, let me introduce you to my fiancée, Anya Alexandrov.”

Blake extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Anya grabbed his hand. “Thank you, it’s nice to meet you, Blake.”

Blake waved his arm as if he was welcoming in a large crowd of people. “So come on in.”

As they entered, Blake’s wife approached barefoot in a yellow tank top and white shorts, her short, blonde hair bouncing as she walked. “Hello.”

Blake pointed to his wife proudly. “This is my better half, Suzy.”

After shaking hands, Peter handed the wine over to the pretty lady. The home smelled like a bakery. “Something smells good.”

“Oh, thanks, that’s the appetizers.” She excused herself to get back to the kitchen. Anya offered to help, which Suzy readily accepted.

As the girls walked to the kitchen, Blake escorted Peter into the living room. Peter was amazed at how clean the home was, especially for having two young boys. The only clue kids inhabited the place was a single, large toy box in the corner of the room. “You’ve got a very nice home.”

Blake motioned toward the couch. “Thanks. This is all Suzy’s doing. She keeps this place clean, and I have no idea how she does it. Our boys can be little tornados, tearing this place up.”

Peter sat in the center of the sofa assuming his friend would sit in the lounge chair. “I know how destructive boys can be.”

Blake held off taking a seat. “Can I get you a beer?”

“That’d be great.”

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

As Blake went off to the kitchen, a soft breeze blew in. Peter looked across to see the open sliding glass door leading out to the backyard patio. Fortunately, the screen door was closed to keep out the Texas bugs. Sitting on the deck by the doorway was a small tricycle and a bike with training wheels.

“Here you go,” Blake called out, bringing over two opened bottles of beer.

Peter reached up and grabbed one. “So where are the boys?”

“They’re upstairs cleaning their rooms. Let me go get them.”

Peter lifted his beer, toasting Blake as he hustled up the stairs.

Peter smiled as he heard the girls chatting away. He took a big swig of the cold beer before leaning over and rummaging through magazines on the coffee table. His attention was instantly drawn to an aviation magazine that had a full picture of Carlos Calma in his spacesuit. What magazine puts that asshole on the cover? He set his beer down as he pulled out the magazine and read the title. “A Space Hero?” What? Good thing there’s a question mark. He flipped to the story in the magazine and began to read. He quickly realized the article was full of bullshit, and must have been written by Carlos’s PR team, trying to convince the world he was not the cause of their failed mission to reach the ISS. Though Carlos wasn’t the cause, Peter knew he was far from being a hero.

He was about to toss the magazine back on the table in disgust but he spotted the name Krause Aerospace. In a corner of the article, a shaded box highlighted Carlos’s father. Peter scanned the short description about the business tycoon and was surprised to see one of the many companies Jose owned was Krause Aerospace. Interesting; maybe that can be my connection to get inside information. Peter looked out the window, rubbing his chin. He shook his head, remembering the old man was supporting his son’s lawsuit against the FKA. Then throw in the fact that he had punched the man’s son, Peter doubted Jose would help him out. He looked back down at the cover. I did save his son. Maybe if Jose knew the facts he might support me. He set the magazine back on the table, convinced he should at least give it a try.

His concentration was interrupted by tiny footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked over to see Blake’s cute, little four-year-old boy in a bathing suit, carrying a model jet.

“Well, hello.”

The boy shyly walked over to Peter and stuck out his hand.

Peter grabbed the small hand and shook. “Hello, I’m Peter. Nice to meet you.”

The boy didn’t say a word, as if he didn’t hear Peter, and started to play with his plane on the coffee table.

The model was an F-22 fighter jet, the same plane the young boy’s father flew in the Air Force. “That’s a cool-looking airplane. Did your daddy fly that plane?”

The boy kept on playing, ignoring Peter.

Peter smiled as he watched the boy, thinking back when he was the same age playing with the model of the Lunar Lander, pretending he was flying it to the moon just like his father soon would. More footsteps came down the stairs.

Blake called out, “Did you meet Matthew?”

Peter looked up to see Blake’s second child following his father down the stairs. “I did. He’s a little quiet.”

As if his son simply had a small bruise, Blake casually offered, “Oh, he’s deaf.”

Peter’s heart dropped as he looked back down at the boy, who now had a big grin as he continued to play with his toy. He was shocked Blake never mentioned it during their training. “Well, he had good manners, coming down and shaking my hand.”

Blake smiled as he brought over his oldest son. “Good. Peter I would like to introduce my oldest boy, Brian.”

The six-year-old had blond hair just like his little brother. “Hello, Brian.”

Brian tugged on his dad’s shirt, indicating he wanted to tell him something in secret. Blake bent down before his son whispered in his ear. Blake spoke calmly to the boy. “I think you left it outside.” The boy grabbed his dad’s hand and pulled him toward the backyard patio. Blake showed a patient smile. “We’ll be right back. He wants to show off his new rocket to you.”

Peter nodded in acceptance as they walked toward the sliding screen door. As they exited, Peter zoomed in on Matthew, who was now on his knees with his arm extended holding onto the jet. He was moving his arm in a wavy motion, in his imagination flying the jet. Peter got down on his knees next to the little boy. He opened his hand and pretended it was a jet. He copied the movements the boy made with his toy, following closely behind. After a few moments of this, Peter decided to take the lead. He flew his hand past the boy’s jet and was pleased to see the boy copy his moves, being a perfect wingman.

Peter beamed as he looked down at the boy. Even though the boy wouldn’t hear him he still spoke out loud. “You have piloting skills just like your daddy.” Peter noticed a shadow on the floor and looked up to see Anya standing with a proud grin, holding a tray of appetizers. He winked, guessing she was thinking of the day when he would be playing with their child.

Soon all four adults were sitting around the patio table under an umbrella socializing on the backyard wooden deck, the boys playing nicely in a nearby sandbox.

Anya held her glass of wine as she stared at the children. “Your boys play so well together.”

Suzy looked at Blake and grinned before turning to Anya. “Thanks. Of course like any siblings, they have their moments.”

Peter lifted his glass. “The advantages of being an only child.”

Blake teased his commander. “Oh, that’s why you’re such a demanding boss. You’re used to always getting your way.”

Peter set his glass down. “Hmm, I never thought about it that way; I guess you’re right. Now get down and give me twenty.”

They all laughed. Anya directed her attention to Suzy and Blake sitting across from her. “So how did you two meet?”

Suzy spoke up. “At college in California. We both went to UC Santa Barbara.”

Peter was familiar with the school. “That’s a pretty campus, right there on the beach.”

Blake grabbed an appetizer. “They have some great surfing spots in the area.”

Suzy continued. “My sorority was sisters to his fraternity. I always thought he was the cutest. Fortunately, after some hints he finally asked me out. We’ve been together ever since.” A curious look crossed Suzy’s face. “So how about you two? How does a Texas boy end up with a Russian girl?”

Anya answered. “Our fathers trained together on the USA/USSR mission in the ’70s. They became close friends, and over the years our families often got together. Since Peter is almost eight years older than me…”

Blake interjected, “That’s all?”

Anya smiled. “I had the biggest crush on him when I was a teenager, but he never noticed me.”

Peter cockily leaned back. “I had other fish to fry. But when I saw her years later as a grown woman, I couldn’t believe it. I instantly had a crush on her, but then she ignored me.”

Anya smiled. “Because I had other fish to fry.”

All laughed.

Blake started to get up. “I better put the ribs on the BBQ.”

Peter started to get up. “Need any help?”

“Nope, you sit and entertain the ladies.”

Peter sat back down. “My pleasure.”

As Blake entered the kitchen, Suzy became serious. She grabbed Peter’s hand and leaned over the table, speaking in a whisper. “Blake means everything to this family. Please make sure he comes back safely. Sometimes he’s too carefree and reckless and I worry about him.”

Peter brought his other hand over and lightly patted hers. He could sense the strong love she had for her husband. “Blake is an excellent astronaut. He’s one of our best. I promise you, I’ll do everything I can as his boss to ensure his safety.”

Suzy’s eyes locked onto Peter’s. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“THEY ARE SUCH a sweet couple, and I really like Suzy.”

Peter applied the car’s brake as he approached a stoplight, his stomach full of Blake’s excellent barbeque. He looked over at Anya. “They are. Plus they have some cute kids.”

“Remember you promised Suzy you would take care of Blake; keep him safe.” She put her hand on his leg. “I’m so glad you’re not flying this mission. I understand her concerns.”

Peter tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The light turned green, and he continued through the intersection. Guilt started to creep through him. If he was to have a complete relationship with her, he couldn’t keep secrets from her. No matter the consequences. “I know one way I can make sure Blake is safe.” Peter stole a quick glance.

She tilted her head slightly, her tone growing suspicious. “How?”

Peter wiggled his eyebrows. “If I fly with him.”

He could feel her staring at him as he looked out over the roadway. There was no response. An uncomfortable silence filled the car. He peeked over to see an anxious look on her face.

Finally she broke the silence. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

He took a deep breath and released it, dropping his joking tone. “There’s a chance I might be in that rocket when it launches on the twenty-first. We just learned earlier in the week that Jesse hurt his back. Our hope is he will be ready for the mission, but right now, I’m filling in for him during training. Walter doesn’t want the team losing any preparation time.”

Anya abruptly lifted her hand off his leg. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her turn and look out the side window. After a few beats, she swiveled back around. In a stoic tone she asked, “What are the odds you’ll be aboard that rocket?”

“I don’t know, 50-50 maybe. Believe me, Walter and the team want Jesse in that seat, and so do I. If he recuperates in time, he’s the commander.”

Anya looked ahead, mashing her lips together. After a single beat, she turned and put her hand back on his leg and squeezed. “I made a promise to myself that I would support you and be by your side no matter what. I love you that much. So if you have to fly, I am behind you a hundred percent.”

Peter patted her hand, pleased with her strength. “I love you, thanks.”

18

FINAL APPROVAL

At last there was a break in their rigorous training schedule and Peter could finally sneak in some work for SID. Dressed in his EarthOrbit-issued jumpsuit, he sat at his desk, door closed. He would attempt contacting Jose Calma. Even though it was a long shot, he was hoping the man might be able to help him obtain inside information on Krause Aerospace. After some crafty probing on the phone, and a little deceit, he was finally able to obtain the tycoon’s cell phone number.

Before dialing up the magnate, he received an incoming call from his mother. Ever since hearing he and Anya were getting married, she had been researching churches and reception halls, constantly calling with questions. With everything going on, he finally had to politely tell her to just deal with Anya.

Peter had been encouraged by the improvement with Jesse’s back, happy he was able to participate in some of their training. There was a real possibility the veteran would be able to go on the mission as commander after all, which would be welcome news to Anya.

He double-checked his office door was tightly closed before punching in Jose’s number on his phone. He quickly reviewed his plan on introducing himself. He figured Jose must have been aware of the rescue if he was backing his son on his lawsuit. The question was, did he know who saved Carlos? Peter had made sure to stay out of the limelight after the moon mission, granting no interviews. He doubted Carlos was able to connect the man who went to the moon to the man who saved him. According to Gavin, Carlos thought he was saved by an astronaut named Peter Robinson, so this was the name he planned to use while speaking with Jose. Of course, his biggest concern was if the old man knew he had punched his son. If so, the man would definitely harbor resentment against him.

After a few rings, a strong male voice answered, “Bueno.”

Peter leaned forward, putting one hand on his desk, sure the tycoon spoke English. “Hello, Jose?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. The man probably felt uneasy not knowing who he was speaking to. He answered with a slight Spanish accent, “Yes, who is this?”

Peter looked out across his office. “Jose, this is Peter Robinson. I was the astronaut who rescued your son.”

Jose’s tone instantly changed, now resonating with a receptive welcome. “Peter Robinson? What a pleasure it is to speak with you. I owe you a great deal of gratitude for what you did for Carlos.”

Peter let out a deep sigh, pleased the man was informed of the rescue. But did he know about the punch? “I was just doing my job, sir.”

“Damn that. You risked your life to save those men. I heard the whole story, and I have no ill feelings with you punching Carlos.”

Peter clutched his phone a little tighter.

“After learning about his little stunt that almost got you all killed, I would have punched him too. Sometimes he does stupid things.”

Peter relaxed his hand as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, I guess you could say it was all in the heat of the moment.”

A growing hint of disappointment could be heard in the frustrated father’s voice. “There is no excuse for what he did. I love my son to death, but bottom-line, he’s a spoiled kid who got everything handed to him on a silver platter. I’m sure you are aware of the suit we have pending with Russia’s space program. Though I understand why they were not open about what happened, I have to support my son. I don’t want my son’s reputation ruined.”

Peter leaned forward and set his elbow on his desk, pressing the phone harder against his ear. He had to come across as sympathetic. “I understand. Well, fortunately, we all got back safely.”

“Yes, and for that I thank you. So why the call? What can I do for you?”

Peter was pleased the man had changed the subject. “I’m currently working with a private space company in America called EarthOrbit.”

Jose quickly interjected. “I’m familiar with them.”

“Well, we do business with one of your companies, Krause Aerospace, and I wondered if there has been anything unusual going on that might have given you or your management team any reason for concern.”

The man’s voice became intense. “Why, has EarthOrbit been having problems doing business with them?”

Peter promptly answered in a calm voice as he embellished. “No, nothing like that. I’ve been given the task of investigating all our vendors. Since EarthOrbit is being monitored very closely by the government and we are vying for a NASA contract, we need to confirm all our vendors meet certain requirements. When I saw you were the owner of Krause, I decided to go directly to you. I figured if there were any issues, you could make sure they were taken care of to ensure we could keep doing business with Krause.”

“I appreciate you doing that. Unfortunately, I am not closely involved with their day-to-day activities, so I would need to do a little research.”

It was best if Jose personally investigated the company. “That would be great. I’m just looking for anything unusual, anything that may have raised a red flag. Also, it would be great to get a contact I can follow up with later to get more details.”

“Well, let me see what I can find out and I’ll get back with you.”

Peter stressed that his report was due within a week and asked Jose to call him directly on his cell phone, ensuring the man wouldn’t learn Peter’s real name and be confused.

IN THE DEPTHS of the Neutral Buoyancy Training Lab, known as the NBTL pool, Peter floated in a tight-fitting EarthOrbit spacesuit designed solely for water training. He had expressed his sincere gratitude to the suit technician for piecing together his suit, which closely matched his body’s dimensions. Unlike space, he was not weightless within the garment with grooved parts. If it had been loose-fitting, he would have become uncomfortable in certain orientations over time, especially upside down. Since he came in late for training, there were no custom-fit suits for him. In fact, he was still waiting for his mission spacesuit to arrive.

At the bottom of the pool, Peter was inside a barren metal shell replicating the Iris capsule. He and Blake were going to execute an underwater simulation of Blake’s EVA. Both men had already been weighted properly by their support divers, insuring natural buoyancy, allowing their movements to emulate those they would experience in microgravity. The objective of the exercise was for Blake to exit the hatch and move around on the outside of the metal shell. Blake needed to get accustomed to the locations of the handholds and practice moving from one handle to the next using his bulky gloves without losing his grip and floating away from the ship. Though he could tug on his umbilical cord to pull himself back to the ship, management didn’t want to risk damaging the lifeline.

The number-one priority for Peter during Blake’s EVA was to observe his partner’s progress and assist if any problems occurred. He was also responsible for taking pictures and video of the historic spacewalk, which would be transmitted back to Earth for the whole world to see. The climactic point of the EVA would be Blake waving a small American flag after he reached the last handhold, which was about eight feet from the hatch. He would then re-enter the capsule.

Instead of being hooked up to the spacecraft’s oxygen system, Peter received his air from a small portable unit. He was learning how to maneuver around the unit while being hooked up to its short umbilical cord. He also had a small plastic box that simulated the camera. He steadied himself with his free hand while waiting for his partner. Rays of light from the underwater, bright spotlights crisscrossed within the interior like the thin sticks through the plastic container in the game KerPlunk. A lot of air bubbles started floating upward outside the small entryway, signaling someone was below the hatch. Soon Peter was briefly blinded by the reflection of a spotlight bouncing off a visor before realizing it was Blake’s helmet as he slowly rose into the opening.

His partner radioed, “I am at the hatch.”

The test coordinator’s voice answered Blake. “Roger. Diver Two will be there in a second to help you in.”

“Roger.”

A look of panic appeared on Blake’s face, worrying Peter for an instant. Blake gradually brought both arms up and folded them around his visor so each elbow pointed toward Peter. Blake then started opening and closing them, mimicking a large shark’s mouth as he did the catchy theme song from the movie, Jaws. “Dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun.…da-na-naaaa!”

Peter laughed at his partner’s shark impression when the test coordinator’s voice cut him off. “Quit clowning around, Blake.”

Blake wiggled his eyebrows at Peter before stopping the arm movements. “Roger, Boss.”

Peter remembered his old Russian partner clowning around in SpaceQuest’s training pool. Though he hoped he didn’t have to fly the mission, if he did, he was convinced flying with Blake wouldn’t be boring.

THE CONFERENCE ROOM was buzzing from the many small discussions going on as the management team eagerly waited for Walter to start the meeting. With the scheduled blast-off just eight days away, the hope was to get the final go ahead from each manager for a September 21st launch. If everything was cleared, the support team and astronauts would transfer over to the Nevada launch site for final preparations.

Peter sat to the left of Blake, who was reviewing the revised mission procedures manual passed out to all the attendees. Peter had not opened his as of yet. His immediate concern was that his backup was missing. Peter was saving a seat next to him for Jesse, the only remaining one left at the table. This was a meeting the young commander couldn’t miss if there was any chance of him taking Peter’s place and flying the mission. A disturbed look crossed Walter’s face as he looked toward the empty chair before turning to Chris and resuming a private conversation. Peter squeezed his pen as he looked toward the doorway. He was wearing two hats in the meeting, one as the commander of the mission, and the other as the boss of the astronauts.

Blake nudged him with a surprised look as he pointed to something in the manual. Before Peter could look down, the conference door rattled open. He let out a deep sigh when Jesse hustled in. The man had a big grin as he walked with a skip in his step, showing no signs of any back pain. He quickly settled down in the chair next to Peter.

Peter shot him a stern look. “You’re late!”

Excitement animated the veteran’s voice. “Sorry Boss, I had to stop by medical. Good news. I just got cleared to fly. I’m 100 percent.”

Peter bit his upper lip as he nodded. Though he was pleased with the news, a slight stab of disappointment flashed through him. A small part of him was looking forward to going back into space. Regardless, he was happy to see the commander excited. Keeping his cool, he leaned over. “That’s great, but let’s not bring it up now. I’ll have a private meeting with Walter afterward to see about putting you back on the prime crew.”

Jesse gave an enthusiastic nod.

Walter called out as he looked in Jesse’s direction. “All right, looks like everyone’s finally here. Let’s get this meeting underway.” The room quieted down as Walter turned toward his flight and launch directors. “Gentlemen, are we ready to do this?”

The launch director spoke up first. “The Zeus rocket has been moved to the launch pad and at this point is on schedule for a September 21st launch.”

The flight director eagerly followed with excitement in his voice. “Mission control is pumped and ready to go, sir.”

Walter smiled at the young director’s gusto before scanning the table. “Does anyone else have any concerns or reasons on why we should not launch on the twenty-first?”

The room stayed quiet. Walter’s voice became deep and certain. “Good, then let’s create some history.” Walter looked at Peter. “How has the training been going?”

“Great. We’ve practiced all phases of the mission and feel confident and ready to go.”

“How about the spacewalk?”

“Blake looks like a veteran in the NBTL pool. I’m certain he’ll do a great job.”

Chris jumped in as he looked over at the equipment manager. “Is Peter’s spacesuit in yet?”

The manager looked uneasy as he swallowed hard. “No, sir. It was supposed to be in late last week. I’m told it will be overnighted tomorrow, so we should have it Saturday. We ought to be able to do a fitting that afternoon.”

Walter jumped in. “That’s cutting it close with the astronauts transferring to the spaceport on Sunday.”

The manager clenched his jaw as he gave a nervous nod.

“Let’s guarantee that suit does come in on Saturday.” Walter looked at his three astronauts. “Gentlemen you’ll notice we’ve scheduled Blake’s EVA late on the second day. This should allow time for most of the effects of space sickness to subside, if he should experience any.” A dramatic pause floated over the room as the president slowly leaned back in his chair. “Being the first private company to pull off a spacewalk will be a historic achievement. It will grab the world’s attention and make us front-page news. Doing the walk early in the mission ensures all eyes will witness your visit to the ISS. NASA and the world will see exactly what EarthOrbit’s equipment is capable of.”

Peter liked the president’s exuberance.

Walter zeroed in on Peter. “Did you two train for the second EVA?”

Straightening up in his chair, Peter hoped the president wasn’t going to suggest they do the second spacewalk. From the moment he first learned of the proposal, he felt it was simply too ambitious for the young company for their first mission. However, he and Blake did practice it a few times. Its purpose was to show their capability of working in space. Blake was to do a mundane task of opening a bay door and retrieving a tool. “We did.”

“Okay, good. If you notice on the mission procedures, if everything goes as planned, we might have Blake do that EVA after visiting the space station.”

Peter was shocked the second spacewalk was listed. They were pushing their luck. If they were successful with Blake’s first EVA and rendezvousing with the station, regardless if he was in the spacecraft or not, he would suggest forgoing a second spacewalk. But at this point, he believed it was best not to say anything and instead nodded in agreement.

The meeting continued until all aspects of the mission were discussed and cleared. Once Walter was satisfied, he said the launch was a “go,” causing a heartfelt cheer. Peter and the other astronauts would soon be transferring to the Nevada site.

As everyone was leaving the room, Peter held back, hoping to catch Walter alone. He wanted to discuss Jesse replacing him on the mission. He gave a wink to Jesse when he rejected leaving the conference room with the two astronauts. Jesse gave an acknowledging nod, sensing what his boss was about to do. Though going to Walter behind Chris’s back was not the appropriate protocol, he simply didn’t feel comfortable asking Chris.

Peter was soon the last one sitting at the table. He was pretending to be reviewing his paperwork as he watched Walter out of the corner of his eye. The president was in a conversation with both the launch director and Chris by the doorway. Peter patiently waited. He exhaled when Chris excused himself. Soon Walter and the director sounded like they were wrapping things up. Peter started to get up. The president gave a dismissive wave to the director before turning down the hallway. Peter swiftly passed the director, who was going back to the table to retrieve his notepad. Peter turned the corner and hustled toward the moving president. Right before reaching him, he quickly gathered himself, “Walter.”

The president stopped and turned. “Hey, Peter.”

Peter took a deep breath. “Walter, do you have a second?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Peter softened his voice slightly. “Jesse was just fully cleared by medical. I think we should put him back on the prime crew.”

Walter took a step back. “Have you talked to Chris about this?”

Peter’s response was immediate. “Not yet; I just found out.”

Looking down the hallway, Walter put his hand into his pocket. He turned back. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. You’ve been the one doing all the physical training the last two weeks. I doubt he’s ready.”

Surprised by the president’s response, Peter firmly countered. “Sir, Jesse’s ready. In fact, he has a lot more training hours for this mission than I do. He’s definitely more qualified. Besides, my spacesuit is not even here yet.”

The president studied Peter for a moment. “Let me see what Chris thinks. I’m open to putting him back on. However, I want you right by his side going through all the final preparations as if you were flying. I want you to be a plug-n-play if needed.”

Peter gave an understanding nod. “Absolutely.” Peter put his hand on Walter’s shoulder. “Jesse is the perfect man for this job. I’m convinced he’ll execute a perfect mission.”

“That’s why we picked him. We have confidence in him, too. I’ll let you know what Chris says.”

Peter hoped for the best.

19

THE CHANGE

Kuang sat directly across from the MSS man in the empty conference room, done with the small talk. He was anxious to learn the latest on bombing the International Space Station. His impatience must have been obvious since Lin Wu started discussing the subject he was summoned for without waiting for the superior officer to formally introduce it.

Lin spoke with force in his voice. “So far the operation has proceeded as planned. The commercial rocket is on the launch pad in Nevada and scheduled to lift off on Friday. We’ve confirmed the bomb is operational and secured on board.”

Kuang reached over to a small tea tray between the two men. He took hold of the handle of his favorite Yixing clay pot and calmly poured some of the steaming-hot liquid into one of the two purple cups, expecting the taste to be perfect. He first offered the drink to Lin, who politely refused. As Kuang slid the small cup in front of himself, he took in the pleasant green tea aroma as he narrowed his stare on Lin. “Do we have a detailed breakdown of their flight plan?”

“Yes. You will be pleased to learn they are doing a spacewalk prior to rendezvousing with the space station. This historic feat will definitely grab the world’s attention, perfect for our operation to get maximum exposure. Such an embarrassing accident at the ISS witnessed by millions would indubitably set all the rest of the world’s space programs back years, propelling China into the position of the top country in space.”

Kuang crinkled his forehead at the thought of the private company doing a spacewalk, a feat that took his team over a decade to accomplish. He would hate for China to be upstaged by the young firm. He ran his finger around the rim of his cup. “Why are they doing the spacewalk before flying to the ISS?”

Lin’s demeanor stayed steady. “Not sure, but we feel it’s beneficial for our mission.”

Kuang forcefully shook his head, fighting back the impulse to snap at the young man’s shortsightedness. The MSS obviously had no idea how difficult it was to venture out into the harsh environment of space. “It’s too risky. If any problems happen during that spacewalk, it will prevent them from flying near enough to the ISS. I want it rescheduled so it happens after they rendezvous with the station. We cannot chance anything stopping us from achieving our objective. I want you to insist our man changes this immediately.”

Lin’s smug look wilted as he leaned forward against the conference table. He inclined his upper body. “I will personally pass on your request at once.”

Kuang carefully took a sip of the hot tea as he peered at the man over his cup. He was starting to question if the MSS was handling the operation correctly. “How long do they plan on being at the International Space Station?”

“We have been assured they will park by the station for at least twenty-four hours, allowing your agency plenty of time to verify their coordinates before taking control of the ship.”

Kuang warily set the cup down, making sure not to spill. “How close will they get?”

Lin looked at his notes before answering. “Fifty meters.”

Kuang clenched his fist. “Is that close enough?”

“Yes. Once your team starts firing the thrusters, the crew will be confused momentarily. By the time they figure out what is happening, it will be too late to regain control, especially as we counteract any corrections they make.”

“And the MSS will detonate the bomb before impact?”

“Yes, sir, seconds before.”

THE AIR CONDITIONER was running full blast in Peter’s home as he sat comfortably on a bar stool. Anya was barefoot in a pair of tight, white jeans and a loose, blue blouse as she meticulously worked the pots on a stainless steel stove in front of him. His fiancée had been working all day in the kitchen preparing a traditional Russian meal. It was Saturday night, his last evening home before transferring over to the spaceport in Nevada. She wanted to cook him something special as a send off. They had finished the first course, which was a cold soup called Okroshka. She couldn’t wait for him to try the sour milk-based soup that she grew up loving. Though it really wasn’t his thing, he politely endured the bitter flavor as he complimented her on its taste.

Anya was soaking what looked like dumplings in a pot of boiling water. When he had come home from work earlier in the day he had watched her painstakingly hand-making the little pastries, filling each with what looked like minced meat. He was pleased when she had ordered him out of the kitchen after he asked if he could help. Before leaving, he jokingly dotted flour on her nose as he gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.

He was now starting to feel guilty as he lightly drummed his fingers on the granite countertop while she eagerly worked in front of him. “There must be something I can do to help?”

A smile was playing at both sides of her mouth as she gave him an endearing look. “You just relax and enjoy yourself.”

He definitely was enjoying himself. He wrapped his fingers around the bowl of his chilled wine glass and slowly brought the goblet to his mouth as he watched her turn around and reach for the plates in the upper cabinet. As he took in the wine’s aroma, he proudly admired the beautiful creature from behind. As the chilled liquid flowed over his lips, he realized once again what a lucky son-of-a-gun he was.

Soon the romantic couple sat comfortably across from each other at the dining room table, light jazz playing softly over the sound system. Peter had to block out the unpacked boxes scattered behind her, reminding him of the work he still had to do before they were fully moved in.

Peter lifted his glass for a toast. “Bon Appétit.”

Anya brushed her dark bangs from her eyes as she raised her glass and lightly tapped his, the soft chime echoing over the music. “I hope you like it.”

He took a sip of wine before looking down at the half-moon shaped dumplings neatly arranged on his plate. “So what is this dish called?”

She took a sip before answering. “It’s called Pelmeni. It’s one of my favorites. My grandmother used to make it all the time.”

“Does that mean anything in Russian?”

Her elbow rested on the table as she held the glass near her face. “It actually means ear-shaped bread in the Finnic language.”

Peter saw some dipping sauces. “So do I use my hands or fork?” He grinned. “I want to make sure I eat them the traditional way.”

She smiled. “Russians aren’t barbaric. We use forks.”

He set his glass down. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

She winked. “I know.”

Peter put his napkin in his lap before picking up his fork and stabbing one of the morsels. He dipped the small pastry in hot mustard before bringing it close to his lips. He stopped short of putting it in his mouth, feeling its warmth. He sat frozen, his eyes locked on her. She tilted her head before a sly grin signaled she understood he was being a gentleman, waiting for her to take the first bite. She promptly set her glass down, speared a dumpling and took a small taste.

Being given the green light, Peter set the whole dumpling on his tongue before closing his teeth gently onto the fork and pulling the food off. He slowly started to chew. Savory flavors and mustard spread across his palate. This is good. Anya stared with her hands clenched, obviously curious what he thought. The bite was too good to rush down, so he took his time chewing. Besides, he liked seeing her squirm. Once he had swallowed the last bit, he lifted his fork and slightly bowed. “That’s damn good. My compliments to the chef.”

Anya’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m so glad you like it.”

“To be honest, I really didn’t have high expectations.” Peter quickly speared another dumpling and dipped it in the same sauce. “But damn, this is good. So what’s in it? Something is giving it that spicy tang.”

“I can’t tell you. It’s my grandmother’s secret.”

Peter grabbed his glass with his free hand and did an imaginary toast. “Well, good job, Grandmother.”

The two proceeded to enjoy the dinner and had a pleasant conversation, never addressing the space mission around the corner. Soon, Anya’s face became serious. “So you’re sure you won’t be flying?”

“I’d say that’s a safe bet. Instead, I’ll be in town next week clearing up some of these unpacked boxes.” Peter pointed to the clutter behind her, before taking a sip of wine. “Jesse was officially put back on the prime crew yesterday, moving me to backup.” He swirled the remaining liquid around in his glass. “I just got checked out in my spacesuit today, which was cutting it close if I were flying. So as long as Jesse stays healthy, he’s the one and he is unquestionably the best man for the job.”

Her crystal-blue eyes stayed fixed on him. “So you’re going out there more as their boss?”

“Yes and no. Management still wants me doing all the same preflight activity as the guys in case Jesse has a relapse, which I’m positive won’t happen. They’re just being overly cautious.”

She pursed her lips. “Should I come out?”

“Na, we don’t want you missing any more work.”

She chewed her upper lip for a second. “And you’ll be back on Friday night?”

Peter decided this was a good time to tell her about the White House visit that Gavin had told him about earlier. Apparently the President wanted to present him with some medal on the following Sunday if he wasn’t in space. “Hopefully sooner. I would prefer to watch the launch from Mission Control, but they may want me there up until the last minute, and of course there could be delays. Regardless, I want to be home by next Sunday for a special meeting.”

Anya lifted an eyebrow. “What meeting is that?”

“How would you like to visit the White House with me and meet the President of the United States?”

Anya’s jaw dropped. “What? Are you kidding?”

“Nope. He wants to give me a medal. It will be a private presentation that won’t be made public.”

“Congratulations! It would be a thrill to meet the President.”

“Well let’s hope I don’t have to fly in space then.”

Anya put her hands together. “Believe me, that request is already in my prayers, regardless of any White House visit.”

He smiled. “Hopefully I get out of Nevada on Friday and you can make me these dumplings again.”

“They’re called Pelmeni and the soup was Okroshka.”

“I remembered the name, Okroshka. In fact I just like saying the word.” He slowly sounded out the word trying to add a Russian accent. “Ok-rosh-ka.” Peter then gave a modest shrug. “But since I love the Pelmeni, I can tell you the truth. I wasn’t a big fan of the soup.” He lifted both hands with a grin. “But I still love saying, Okroshka.”

“Really? You should have told me earlier. It wouldn’t have hurt my feelings.”

“I felt bad after you spent all day making all of this. I’m glad I enjoyed the main dish.”

Anya’s seductive smile teased Peter. “Who says that was the main dish?”

A big grin crossed Peter’s face as he shifted in his seat. “Oh, I thought you were going to be the dessert.” He playfully wiggled his eyebrows.

She lifted her glass. “Maybe with some whipped cream.”

“Mmmm, perfect.”

THE SCREECHING SOUND of Peter’s phone had rudely awakened him from a pleasant dream. Chris Riddick was calling, demanding Peter get to the office for an emergency meeting. Apparently, the old man wanted to speak to the crew about some new developments before they were to fly to the Nevada launch site. Though he should have gotten right out of bed when he hung up, he instead gave into Anya’s requests to stay. It’s Sunday; there won’t be any traffic. He rolled over and cuddled up to his lover’s warm body and easily fell back to sleep. Fortunately, Anya stayed awake and woke him a short time later.

Right before opening the door to Chris’s office, Peter glanced down at his watch. Damn it, I’m fifteen minutes late. He did a soft knock as he slowly opened the door.

Chris straightened up in his chair. “Oh, guess who decided to join us.”

Peter wanted to smack the asshole after that comment, but instead, took a deep breath and reminded himself his direct employer was SID. “Sorry I’m running late, I hit some unexpected traffic.” Blake and Jesse were both in casual clothes sitting across from Chris’s desk. They turned around to greet their boss. With no seat available, Peter grabbed one of the plush chairs from the sitting area and quickly dragged it over toward the men. Blake moved his chair over, giving Peter a spot between them. “Thanks, Blake.”

Chris leaned back in his chair. “We were going over the preflight procedures, but since we are on a tight schedule, I’m going to get right down to why this meeting was called.”

Getting a quick flash of Chris’s Rolex reminded Peter of when he snuck into the man’s office. He couldn’t contain his sly smirk as he looked down at the front of the desk, remembering when he was curled up on the floor on the other side just inches from Chris’s boots.

Chris’s voice was soft-spoken and intense. “We have made a change in the flight plan. We have decided to do Blake’s spacewalk after rendezvousing with the space station and cancel the second EVA.”

Peter jolted upright at hearing this surprising change. Though he was happy they were cancelling the second spacewalk, something seemed odd, especially considering Walter’s desire to get the world’s attention before visiting the station. He kept his cool. “Why the change?”

“It was a management decision. Our concern is if we have any issues during the spacewalk, we may have to scrub flying to the station, which is our main objective. First and foremost, this mission is to show NASA our capability to achieve a successful launch and being able to get into ISS’s orbit. We want to show NASA we can place a manned spacecraft within yards of the station and then return home safely. Basically, we want to do everything short of docking. Doing the spacewalk is more of a historic feat, but not a requirement of getting the NASA contract.”

Though Chris’s comments made sense, Peter was sure management must have thought about this before setting up the flight plan. Something must have come up to change their minds. Obviously Chris wasn’t going to elaborate on the reasoning. Showing he was a company man, Peter spoke up. “I agree with the change. I always felt the second spacewalk was a little too ambitious for our first manned mission anyway. This might be our only shot to show what we can do.”

“Exactly. So we have rescheduled your first broadcast to happen sometime when you’re next to the station.”

Peter scratched the back of his neck as he nodded. Something just didn’t feel right.

20

SPACEPORT

The aircraft engines hummed in the background as Peter studied the mission’s revised flight plan. He sat by the window next to an empty seat in the back of EarthOrbit’s corporate jet. He decided to give his brain a rest as he scanned the plane. Only five passengers were on the flight. Chris and Walter were sitting side by side chatting in the front row, while Blake and Jesse sat in separate rows in the middle of the plane. Blake had headphones on and appeared to be sleeping while his commander looked to be studying the same manual as Peter.

Turning to look out the window, Peter saw Las Vegas in the distance, signaling they would soon be arriving at the spaceport. An unexpected pang of longing hit him as he thought of his lover. I need to take Anya to Vegas someday. He closed his eyes, remembering their last kiss. A startling nudge on his shoulder broke his concentration. He turned to see Walter standing in the aisle with a slight smirk.

Walter pointed to the empty seat. “Mind if I sit?”

Peter wondered if he was trying to get away from Chris. “Not at all, please do.”

Walter grabbed the front seatback before falling back into the recliner. “You know it was a plane like this that your dad rolled.”

A faint smile crossed Peter’s face thinking of his dad pulling off the crazy stunt. “I betcha that was some show.”

“I thought it was hilarious.” He raised his hand waggling a pointed finger. “Of course, don’t you get any ideas.”

Peter chuckled. “Okay, no barrel rolls today.”

Walter looked toward Jesse and Blake before turning back. “So you think your guys are ready?”

Peter spoke with assurance. “They’re ready. You have two of the best flying.”

Walter leaned in, nudging Peter’s arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

Peter took a sharp breath. “I’d love to. I’m sure launching in a Zeus rocket would be a one hell of a ride. But you want to send the men best trained to do this mission. Both have put in long hours and are the right men for the job.”

“I agree. Of course it would definitely help us get better press coverage if the man flying was the same man who just went to the moon.”

SID would prefer him to avoid press coverage. The comment sparked Peter’s curiosity as to why Walter had agreed to move the EVA, which still gnawed at him. “I expect you’ll get good coverage, but I was surprised we moved Blake’s spacewalk. That definitely would have gotten the world’s attention.”

Walter reclined his seat back as he made himself more comfortable, settling his arms on the armrests. “It just makes more sense. I think I was getting a little greedy trying to do too much on this mission. Chris suggested we drop the second EVA, feeling we were biting off more than we could chew, and the more I thought about it, I realized he was right. He opened my eyes to the risks. The purpose of this flight is to show NASA what we can do, and doing a spacewalk is just an impressive feat.”

Peter’s hunch was right, Chris was behind the change. “I do agree holding off on that second EVA. In fact I was going to suggest this later in the mission if all went to plan.”

Walter raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Peter clenched his jaw. “I’m still new. I guess I wanted to see how the mission went first.”

“Well, it sounds like we are all in agreement.” Walter looked toward the front of the plane for a moment before turning with a questioning look. “So how does a guy working at Byington Corporation in the UK end up with SpaceQuest flying a mission to the moon?”

Peter went into spy mode, answering the question as scripted by SID. “Actually, Allen Ferguson was friends with my dad. Allen’s a big fan of NASA’s early space program and over the years had made an effort to get to know most of the moonwalkers. He was probably closest with my father. When China claimed landing on the moon was a big hoax, it pissed Allen off. He considered all moonwalkers to be national heroes and felt it was his duty to prove China was full of crap. His team came up with how they could get to the moon and prove we did land. Allen discussed the plan with Pop before he passed away, expressing his desire to have a NASA astronaut fly the mission. It was obvious that wasn’t going to happen, so Dad suggested me. He informed Allen I was well-qualified after spending years training at NASA. Of course, Dad had no idea at the time the operation was going to turn into a suicide mission. He was just trying to get his son into space.”

Walter interjected. “You know, that has been bugging me. How come someone with your skill and credentials never flew the shuttle? It sounds like you were one of NASA’s top astronauts.”

Peter fought the impulse to badmouth Chris. It wouldn’t be in the best interest of the assignment. So he swallowed his pride and took the high road. “I’m not sure, probably politics.”

A skeptical look crossed the president’s face. “Wasn’t Chris your boss?”

Expecting the question, Peter said quietly, “Yes, but he wasn’t the only decision maker.”

The plane started to go into a slight bank, pulling Peter toward his window, which was filling up with the landmass below. Walter’s arm shot across Peter’s chest, pointing outside. “There’s the spaceport.”

The complex came into view. What caught his eye was an ultra-modern building shaped like a stingray located right in the middle of the compound. The eye-catching feature looked to be resting on the desert floor, waiting to strike. All the roads of the facility fanned out from the large building. Peter followed one with his eyes as it led out to two launching pads, on one of which the massive Zeus rocket was patiently waiting. A ping of jealousy rang through him as he stared at the glimmering machine.

With a proud tone, Walter said, “You’re looking at the only commercial spaceport in the world. Not only will EarthOrbit’s rockets fly out of there, but someday soon we’ll lease out those pads to other space companies, some sending tourists into space.” Walter nudged Peter’s arm. “Of course that’s after we have a NASA contract in hand. We don’t want to give the competition any help.”

Peter stared out of the window as they came closer and more of the complex came into view.

“See that building in the middle?”

Without turning, Peter assumed he was talking about the one that looked like the stingray. “Yeah.”

“That’s one of the most energy-efficient buildings in the world. For example, the air circulating throughout the interior is cooled by a chiller that takes advantage of the lower temperatures below the desert surface. Water is circulated through pipes that extend deep into the earth before passing through the chiller. Also the exterior glass is coated with a special glaze to lower the carbon footprint. There are skylights throughout for interior lighting. Basically there are tons of features in that building that allow us to have one of the smallest energy footprints for a commercial building in the world.”

Though Peter was impressed, his gaze stayed fixed on the Zeus rocket.

After landing, Peter turned on his phone. He was pleased to see a voice message from Jose Calma. He was hoping the tycoon was able to get meaningful information on Krause. He watched Walter get up from his seat and walk toward the exit as he played the message.

Peter put the phone tightly to his ear and bumped the volume down.

Hello, Peter, this is Jose Calma. I’m calling you back to give you an update on what I’ve found out about Krause Aerospace. Though most checked out fine, I was surprised to hear a major explosion killed one of our factory workers when working on one of the parts for EarthOrbit. Apparently, the pyrotechnic device used to deploy the parachutes was way too powerful. I have been assured this was corrected before the units were shipped. Of course, this is inside information. I hope this does not prevent your company from doing business with us. If you need anything further, please feel free to call me directly. And once again, thank you for saving my son.

Peter’s brain went into overdrive as a concerned fear caused his gut to churn. Could there be a bomb in the parachute deployment device on their spacecraft? He stared straight ahead as Blake reached the door, the last to depart the plane. The young pilot turned around. “Peter, are you coming?”

Peter took a deep, calming breath as he gave a casual wave. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Blake lifted his arm signaling he understood before ducking his head and exiting. The plane was empty except for the pilots behind the closed cockpit door.

Putting his elbows on his knees, Peter cupped both hands over his mouth. He wondered what his next move should be. He needed to know immediately if there was any chance an explosive device could be onboard their ship. Jose’s message was not enough to disrupt the mission’s schedule. He needed more concrete evidence. He started shaking his foot as he wondered who he could trust. Got it, I’ll call Carl and have him inspect the backup unit. All parts for each mission had at least one spare unit, which the shop manager would have access to.

Peter quickly scanned through his list of contacts on his smart phone before finding his reliable ally. As he speed dialed Carl’s number he spotted the men through his window walking toward a waiting van. Through the short conversation and without giving much detail, Peter instructed Carl to immediately inspect the spare parachute deployment device for their mission, focusing on the pyrotechnics. He stressed to examine it in private and relay his findings directly to him, no one else. Since Carl was the one who originally expressed concern on the German parts, he accepted the request without any questions.

After hanging up Peter hustled out of his seat and down the aisle knowing the others were waiting. As he approached the exit, Walter stuck his head into the plane with a concerned expression. “Hey, Peter, are you coming? We’re all ready to go.”

Peter’s gut told him to inform the president. Walter was the only one who could postpone the launch, and if Carl came back late with bad news, there may not be enough time to deliberate on what to do. Avoiding that mess would be best. He tried not to be too specific. “Walter, I just got off the phone with one of our factory workers. Apparently there might be some issues with the parachute deployment device on Iris 1.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The manufacturer had some early problems during testing of the pyro charge. Apparently it was way too powerful, killing one of their employees.”

Walter looked relieved. “Oh, we were informed of that accident. It was sad to hear someone died. The incident prompted us to send one of our inspectors overseas. He supervised the final testing and confirmed the problem was solved. Everything since has checked out fine. We even did a detailed inspection of the units after they were received. So sounds like you have some old news. That unit should be fine.” Water patted Peter on the back. “I do appreciate you bringing this to my attention, however. We can never be too cautious.”

Peter was encouraged to hear an inspector was sent out. “Okay, well then it’s probably best we keep this to ourselves. No need alarming anyone if you feel it’s a nonissue.”

“You’re probably right, but I’m happy you informed me, and I want you to communicate that to the factory guy. That’s working as a team, which is what all our employees need to do to ensure we succeed in this competitive space business. So who informed you?”

“Carl Stewart, he’s an old friend.”

“Well, you tell Carl good job and we’ve already checked it out.”

Peter nodded. He would call Carl, but only to inform him of this conversation to be prepared if Walter spoke to him. He was still going to have his friend inspect the backup unit, if only for his own peace of mind.

EXHAUSTED FROM THE long day, Peter sat with Jesse at the dinner table in EarthOrbit’s cafeteria. It was well after 8:00 p.m. and he finally got his first opportunity to sit and relax. Not only did Peter go through every exercise with the two astronauts, he also had to get up a few hours earlier to take care of his other responsibilities as their boss. During all this activity, worrying about what Carl was going to find festered in the back of his mind.

Peter took another bite of his lasagna then looked over to see Jesse in the same stupor. The two hadn’t said two words since sitting. The silence was broken when Blake walked up from behind, dropping his tray hard on the table. Peter turned to see a mischievous grin on the energetic young man’s face.

“Damn! You two look beat.”

Peter gave a tired answer. “I am beat. It’s been a long day.”

Blake sat in the seat next to Peter. “Well you’re an old man. We expect that.” Blake swung his head like a bobblehead doll toward Jesse. “How about you commander? Us young guns need to show up the old timer.”

Jesse broke out of his trance. “Let’s just say I’ll sleep well tonight.”

Blake took a big bite of his burger as he surveyed their surroundings. “Damn, where is everyone?” Not getting any response from Jesse or Peter, he started his own conversation. “Well, I just got off the phone with Suzy, and she told me a funny story about Matthew.”

Having met the cute boy, Peter was curious. “What happened?”

“Well, Matthew is your typical four-year-old who hates vegetables. Tonight Suzy made green peas. He finished all his food but the peas. She signed he had to eat those before he could leave the table. He sat there with a pissed off look for the longest time, just staring at his plate. Basically it was a standoff between the two.”

Peter chimed in. “My money is on Matthew.”

Blake smiled. “Well, after Suzy had cleaned the dishes she went to do the laundry. When she came back, she saw Matthew putting the last bite of peas in his mouth. She was so impressed that his plate was clean that she rewarded him with ice cream before putting him to bed. Later when she started to clean up his area of the table, she was shocked when she lifted his placemat and saw most of the peas smashed on the table. But what tickled her was seeing the peas arranged to spell out the word, no.”

Both men laughed. Peter was impressed the deaf boy knew how to spell no. “That’s funny. What a smart boy.”

Jesse seemed to be coming back to life as he smiled. “I remember hiding my peas in my milk.”

“That wouldn’t work. Suzy has the kids finish everything.”

Peter cut another piece of lasagna with his fork and brought it to his mouth before stopping. “Matthew sounds like a good kid. I have to say when I met him I was surprised he was deaf.”

Blake wiped his mouth with his napkin. “We do everything we can to treat him like a normal boy. We try not to make a big deal about it away from home.”

Peter finished his bite. “Well maybe he’ll be a pilot. He was real good at flying his toy plane.”

“He loves that plane. I promised Suzy I would teach him how to fly someday. With the new interface technology available in the cockpit, he should be able to get a pilot’s license. Of course our number one goal is for both kids to get a college degree.”

Peter remembered the wonderful times when his dad taught him to fly. The buzz of his phone caught everyone’s attention. Peter smiled at Blake before taking a look at the caller ID, Carl Stewart. He needed to take the call. He politely excused himself as he quickly walked through the empty cafeteria, punching the answer button as he walked. “Hello.”

“Hey, Peter, it’s Carl.”

As Peter exited into the hallway he confirmed it was empty before answering in a soft tone. “Hey Carl, so were you able to inspect the parts?”

Carl’s tone was apologetic. “I did; sorry I am getting back so late. I had to wait until the factory cleared out before getting to it.”

Peter anxiously rocked back and forth on his feet, impatient. “I understand. So what did you find?”

“Everything checked out fine, nothing suspicious.”

Peter stopped rocking. “Are you sure?”

Carl responded instantly. “Absolutely.”

Peter’s whole body relaxed as he leaned against the wall. “Great, I appreciate you doing this for me.”

“No problem.”

Peter heard brisk footsteps increasing in intensity within the hallway. He looked up to see Chris advancing toward him. He spoke in a whisper as he quickly wrapped up the call.

Chris stopped short and pointed to the phone as he spoke in a directive tone. “Who was that?”

Peter’s analytical mind told him to respond with a coy and logical answer. “My girlfriend, wondering if I am flying.”

Chris casually put both hands in his pockets. “Probably not, but we should know for sure within the next few days. By the way, Walter told me about your concern with the Parachute Deployment Device. You know, you could have asked me about that?”

Peter’s whole body went rigid as his hand tightened around his cell phone. He’d taken a risk telling Walter, knowing Chris was his right-hand man. Fortunately, Carl just confirmed there was no reason to be concerned. “I guess I should have. Sorry about that. Walter was next to me when I first heard about it, so I questioned him on his thoughts.”

Chris’s dark eyes challenged him. “Well, please make certain you go through me on any other concerns.”

Peter swallowed his pride as he accepted the order. “Will do, Boss.”

KUANG WAS IN a foul mood due to a disagreement earlier that morning with his wife. Ever since his father had moved in with them, his dad’s constant bickering had been putting a strain on his marriage. After his mother died, his father had become a defeated and angry man. Yet still, Kuang strived for the man’s approval. He invited his father to live at his home with the hopes their relationship would improve. Sometimes he felt like that little boy who just wanted his dad’s acceptance and love.

He cleared his head of the challenges at home. He leaned back in his chair as he took a sip of hot tea, hoping to calm his mind. He surveyed his desk, reviewing what he needed to get accomplished. The quiet was interrupted by the loud ringing of his phone. He practically ripped the receiver off its cradle. His voice was short and direct. “Hello.”

“Kuang, it’s Lin.”

Kuang growled. “Yes?”

“We might have a problem with Tianlong.”

Kuang snapped his head up. “What? What kind of problem?”

“I have just been informed someone may suspect there is a bomb. They have been asking questions.”

Kuang’s voice rose in aggravation. “Who?”

“I don’t know who, but I was told their questions were answered without giving any insight. Apparently this seemed to have appeased the individual.”

With his fist now clenched in frustration, Kuang spoke harshly. “I want to know who this person is. I want to know why he is asking these questions. Is he associated with the United States government? Find this out now!”

“Yes, sir. I will check on it immediately.”

“If he is a serious threat to the operation, I want him eliminated.”

“Understood.”

21

MOOT ISSUE

Two days before launch, Peter still wasn’t sure if he would be flying or not. He had repeated every exercise Jesse had been doing ever since arriving at the spaceport. He felt much of this redundancy was a waste of time and tough on the team, especially for Blake. The prime crew was sitting in the Iris spacecraft on top of the Zeus rocket going through their plugs-out test, their final dress rehearsal before launch. The test had dragged out way past the scheduled four-hour timeframe due to unexpected kinks. The hope was for the team to repeat the exercise later that day with Peter in the commander’s seat. But with all the problems experienced, he figured he wouldn’t get his shot until the following day.

All the astronauts were now sequestered from the other team members, except those cleared by medical. The crew couldn’t afford to come into contact with any virus that could result in an unwelcome sickness in space. Peter was separated from the launch team in a closed-off VIP area next to the firing room observing the test. Dressed in his EarthOrbit-issued jumpsuit, he stood next to a glass wall that separated him from the room, watching the activity below. The room’s speakers above kept him abreast of the test’s progress.

Peter had been impressed with EarthOrbit’s ultra-modern facility, and the firing room was no exception. The room looked like some tidy, high-tech auditorium typically found in the headquarters of a top corporation, with its marble floors and sleek design. The managers and engineers sat at ergonomically designed computer consoles outfitted with a large computer screen surrounded by three small monitors. The consoles faced a huge, two-story window, aimed in the direction of the launch pad, similar to NASA’s firing rooms. EarthOrbit’s launch control had to face the window so they could observe the return and landing of the rocket’s first stage.

The countdown clock was approaching the twenty-minute mark, a planned hold point. The spacecraft test coordinator announced over the speakers, “Close out cabin vent valves.”

Peter expected Blake’s adrenaline to be pumping as the rookie sat strapped in the spacecraft doing his cross checks. Everything the young astronaut was experiencing was just as if he was actually going to launch. Peter remembered how excited he had been during his first plugs-out test, while Viktor had acted as if they were doing just another simulator exercise. Peter was pleased to have had the calm, cool, and collected space veteran on board, just as Blake was lucky to have Jesse. Peter grinned slightly, knowing the men were also probably sitting in wet diapers due to the extended test.

“T-minus 20 minutes and holding. This is a planned, ten-minute built-in hold.”

The door in the VIP room swung open. He turned and saw Chris enter. He had been cleared by medical and was allowed to interact with the astronauts. An announcement came over the speakers, drowning out the sound of the door closing. “Clear closeout crew from pad.” A frustrated look crossed Chris’s face as he walked over to the room’s audio control knob and abruptly turned down the volume, silencing the room.

Peter felt he should politely acknowledge his boss. “Hey, Chris.”

Chris started to roll up his sleeves as he approached. “Hey.”

Peter pointed toward the firing room. “Looks like they’re experiencing some issues with the test.”

Chris stopped in front of Peter before looking out over the room. He said, as if to put an end to the matter, “Nothing we didn’t expect. We have to remember this is the first manned flight for this company.”

Peter nodded in agreement. He figured the team would most likely be exhausted when they finished the exercise. “I guess I’ll be doing my test tomorrow?”

Chris turned toward him. “That’s why I’m here. I just got done talking with Walter. Since Jesse passed his medical exam this morning and has been doing a great job all week, we’ve decided not to run the second plugs-out test. He is officially the commander and will fly the mission.”

Relieved, Peter leaned back against the glass wall. “That’s great.”

“However, we still want you to stay in quarantine with the men.”

Peter expected this. “Of course, no problem.”

Chris looked back out over the firing room. “Also, Jesse requested that you be the one to strap them in Friday.”

Peter was flattered. He was pleased to be the last person the men would see before the hatch was closed. “I’d be honored.”

ALL THREE ASTRONAUTS were quarantined within their bungalow, beat after another long day. Peter had a refreshing, ice-cold beer in his hand as he sprawled out over the couch, shirtless after a relaxing shower. Both Blake and Jesse had their lounge chairs fully reclined as they sat across from him, Jesse holding a scotch on the rocks and Blake a beer.

Blake lifted his drink. “Cheers, gentlemen. In less than forty-eight hours, Jesse and I are out of this world.”

Peter lifted his bottle. “You’re going to love it.” He took a big swig of the frosty brew before glancing over at Blake. “And it’s normal to feel a little anxious throughout the launch. I had a space veteran give me some advice once. He said, ‘All astronauts are a little scared during launch; that’s why we wear diapers.’”

All three men chuckled. All astronauts must wear the Maximum Absorbency Garments known as MAGs.

Blake turned his eyes on Peter and asked, “How about you, what were you feeling during launch?”

Peter looked at his beer as he wrapped both his hands around it, thinking of his first launch in the unproven Newton rocket, not even three months ago. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.”

Blake relaxed his shoulders. “That’s good to hear, because my blood was really pumping today during our test. So I’m sure I’ll be pretty amped Friday.”

Jesse chimed in. “We both will. But this is what we trained for. You’ll do fine.”

Blake bowed slightly in his commander’s direction.

Though Blake and Jesse were limited to one drink, Peter had one more before all three called it a night. He was looking forward to calling his fiancée and informing her of the news he wouldn’t be flying. The bungalow had four separate bedrooms, each numbered and with its own private bathroom and two beds. The layout was so a full crew and their back-ups could stay together. Since it was just the three of them, they each had their own room.

After saying goodnight, Peter closed his door and flopped onto one of the beds. He speed dialed Anya on his cell phone. He heard the muffled sounds of his roommates through the walls as he waited for her to answer.

Anya’s soft voice answered. “Hello, Peter.”

His whole body relaxed. “Hey baby, how are you?”

“Doing better now. So how’s it all going?”

Peter stretched out on the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Great. The guys finished the plugs-out test today and all went well. In fact, it went so well I won’t be repeating the test. Looks like Jesse is definitely flying the mission. So start making those dumplings.”

Anya’s tone perked up. “Fantastic.” She took a breath. “But are you okay not being on that rocket?”

Peter put his free hand behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. “Right now, that’s what I want. There’ll be other flights. Besides, this is Jesse’s mission.”

“So I guess I need to get a dress for the White House.”

“Yep. Something sexy. Let’s make the President jealous.”

The two continued to have a pleasant conversation. Since he felt comfortable there was no explosive device on the spacecraft, he decided to open up with her about the subject. He valued her input. Anya was surprisingly calm as he explained his initial concern. When he finished, she brought up a good point that made him think. She speculated if a bomb was on board, why would the culprit also put a similar device in the backup unit, leaving evidence for investigators to find later? This triggered a thought—what if the part numbers that were switched affected the spare unit? Though he still felt all was okay, he complimented her on her creative thinking. After ending the call, he decided to follow up immediately with Carl.

To ensure his conversation wasn’t heard outside the room, he first turned on the television. He leaned back on the bed and rang Carl up. After some small talk, Peter got right to the point, questioning if it was Krause who determined which Parachute Deployment Device would be the prime unit, or was that decision left to EarthOrbit.

Carl was direct and decisive when he answered. “Both PDDs for your spacecraft came in together. Neither unit had a designation stating if it was the backup or prime. That was our call, which we made after a thorough inspection.”

Peter felt a little more comfortable hearing that. “Obviously both inspected fine.”

“Yes.”

Peter started to rub the side of his face. “What about the switching of the part numbers you mentioned? Did any of those changes happen to Iris 1 units?”

“I’m pretty sure the units that had their numbers switched were PDDs received later for future missions, but I’ll have to do a little more research to verify that.”

When Peter hung up, he was convinced the whole matter was a moot issue. Exhausted, he turned off the television and lights before pulling the covers over him. His last thoughts were of Anya as he drifted off to sleep.

KUANG CRADLED THE phone on his shoulder as he tapped his pencil on his desk, waiting for Lin to inform him who had been snooping around at the American space company. He was growing impatient with the MSS man’s lack of directness on the matter.

Lin’s voice crackled through the phone as he finally addressed Kuang’s concern. “We did get confirmation on who has been asking the questions.”

“Who, a government agent?” Kuang’s tapping started to increase in strength with every second that passed without a response. Frustrated, he growled. “Well, who is it?”

With a reluctant sigh, the man spoke guardedly. “Sir, it’s Peter Novak.”

The pencil instantly snapped in Kuang’s hand as his blood boiled. “What? Is this the same man who went to the moon?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kuang was furious as he stared straight ahead. “Is he one of the astronauts?”

Lin’s voice was flat and emotionless. “He is actually the manager of the astronauts. He is also the backup commander for this mission.”

Kuang’s hand was now balled in a tight fist. “Are we convinced he is not affiliated with some government agency?”

“Our background check has not turned up anything suspicious. His only affiliation with a government agency is being an ex-NASA astronaut.”

Kuang wasn’t convinced. “What are the odds this man would work at Byington Corporation, fly to the moon, and now be working for the space company associated with Tianlong?”

“It is suspicious. Much of his connection seems to be due to his NASA background and the fact his father walked on the moon. However, we will make sure he is closely watched.”

Kuang thought back to the emergency meeting earlier in the year at Jiuquan, when he sat across from the arrogant American. Supposedly, he was a vice president for the laser manufacturer. Kuang put his fingers deep into his thick, silver hair. These were no coincidences. This man had to be associated with some organization. He clenched his jaw tightly as he looked across his office. This was his opportunity to repay the American for embarrassing him and his country. Without thinking it through, he gave a snap order. “I want him to fly the mission. Tell your contact we want him put on the first crew. I don’t care if they need to postpone the mission a few days to make it happen. I want him in that spacecraft when it explodes.”

Lin kept his composure. “Consider it done.”

22

STARTLING NEWS

The small closeout room was bustling with activity as the five-man team assisted the astronauts with final preparations before strapping them into the spacecraft for their historic space flight. With all the hoses and cables lining the white room, Peter had a difficult time finding a solitary spot out of the way. Chris stood closely next to him. Both men were wearing the same white jumpsuits as the closeout team. Seeing the professionalism brought a smile to Peter’s face, remembering how cheesy his entry was when entering Galileo for the moon mission, being lifted up by a crane. The room was at the end of the access arm, a long steel scaffolding that could swing away from the rocket before launch. This gantry was how the closeout room was accessed from the elevator, and was needed for the astronaut’s emergency escape. The setup was similar to NASA’s.

The venting noise that echoed throughout the room made talking difficult. Everyone had single-sided headsets on, giving them the ability to communicate with each other as well as launch control. While Jesse was being strapped into his seat, Blake rocked nervously back and forth on the balls of his feet in his silver flight suit.

Peter worked his way up from behind and put a firm hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You’re next. Ready for this?”

Blake turned with a sly grin. He gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

The pad leader called out. “Okay, Blake, you’re up.”

Blake gave Peter a wink before turning and handing his helmet to one of the team members. A cell phone surprisingly rang. Who the hell has a cell phone up here? Peter swiveled his head, looking for the guilty party. He was shocked to see Chris pull his out. The old man studied the caller ID for a second before giving an apologetic look. He lifted has hand in an excusing manner as he backed out the door, letting in the hissing sounds of the eager rocket. Through the door’s small window, Peter observed Chris stop on the gantry, covering his free ear as he took the call. Must be pretty damn important.

Peter turned to see Blake already aimed skyward in his seat as a two-man team worked to strap him tightly in. One was using his full weight to force the astronaut down while the other pulled the strap snugly, insuring the spaceman was secured firmly in his seat. Soon the astronauts had their helmets on and had done their communication check. Peter looked back to see Chris pacing on the rocket’s access arm, getting very animated. Peter wondered what could be upsetting the man during such a critical moment.

The pad leader turned to Peter. “Time to close the hatch.”

That was his signal to say his goodbyes. “Roger.” Before sticking his head through the opening, he undid a Velcro strap on the side of one of his pant legs. He stuck his hand deep into the pocket and pulled out a gift. He knelt down and grabbed the curved entrance with his free hand to steady himself. He stuck his head in as far as he could. The interior was well-lit. Both astronauts had their visors up, excitement brewing within their eyes. “You two ready for the ride of your life?”

Jesse, in the commander’s seat, answered enthusiastically, “Ready and excited!”

“Well, I have a little present for you two.” Peter had a proud grin as he reached into the hatch. Blake’s eyes instantly widened when he saw the gift, Matthew’s toy plane hanging from a string. Peter looked at Blake. “Your son wanted you to have this. Hang it from the control panel and it will let you know when you’re in space.”

Blake’s face glowed as he reached out. Peter gently set the gift in his gloved hand. The proud father brought his other hand over, picking the small toy up by the string. He admired it as it swayed in front of him. “This is great, thanks.”

Peter lifted his hand in a reassuring manner. “I used a strong PVA string so you don’t have to worry about it snapping on you during launch.” A sudden loud burst entered the closeout room signaling someone had just entered. Without turning, Peter assumed it was probably Chris. Focusing on the men, he felt a little envious. “I wish I was flying with you guys. Think you could hide me behind your seats?”

Jesse smiled. “Sure, Boss, climb on board.”

Before Peter could respond, he was interrupted by an unexpected strong grip on his shoulder. He turned to see Chris with an odd expression and wondered if it was due to the phone call. “Yeah?”

A dramatic pause stretched while his boss seemed to be struggling with what to say. Finally, the man’s face relaxed. “We need to wrap this up.” He looked past Peter at the crew. “Good luck, men.”

Jesse responded, “Thanks, Chris.”

Peter wondered what all that was about as Chris pulled away. He turned back to the astronauts. “Okay, gentlemen, time to seal this baby up so you can go play.” Peter extended his hand to Jesse. “Good luck, Commander.”

Jesse grabbed his hand. “Thanks for everything, Peter. Through our training together, I feel you’ve definitely made me a better astronaut.”

Peter smiled before turning to Blake, grabbing his gloved hand. “Enjoy the ride, young man.”

Blake looked squarely at Peter, his blue eyes anxious. “I will. But do me a favor and tell Suzy I’ll be thinking of her. Let her know how much I love her.”

Trying to ease the tension, Peter coolly responded, “Dude, she knows that. You tell her yourself next week.”

Blake forced a smiled. “Roger.”

Peter pulled back as he took in one last look. He saluted both men before saying his final words. “Godspeed, gentlemen.” Both saluted him back before he moved out of the way as he solemnly watched the team close and seal the hatch.

“IRIS 1 IS GO FOR LAUNCH.”

Peter felt like a third wheel tagging along on a date. Everyone in the firing room was buzzing about with a particular job to ensure the Zeus rocket had a successful launch. Unfortunately, there was no job for Peter. His position required him to be at mission control, but instead he was requested to stay behind to support the crew in case there was an abort. Fortunately, the countdown was going as planned. He was pleased to have one of the best seats in the house, sitting at a console right in the middle of the action. He had expected Chris to also be in the firing room, but surprisingly his boss flew back to Houston after the astronauts were strapped in.

Though Peter had been impressed with the launch team, he was especially pleased with Jesse’s coolness, especially over the final hour of the countdown and built-in holds.

The commander radioed, “Countdown has been smooth, crew of Iris 1 ready for launch.”

Launch control calmly answered, “Roger, T-minus 30 seconds and counting.”

Peter was too excited to sit. Since he was basically a spectator, he decided to stand next to his console and watch the launch through the firing room’s massive window. He directed his gaze on the Zeus rocket out in the distance. It looked impatient as vapor seeped from its sides. The beast was raring to go.

Launch control radioed, “Final checks complete. Twenty-five seconds.”

Peter rubbed his hands together as he said a quick prayer for the men.

“Complete clearance to launch. We are a Go. Twenty seconds and counting.”

Peter remembered his heart racing at this point of his countdown in the unproven Newton rocket. He was sure both men’s blood pressure was at an all-time high, especially the rookie’s.

“Ten, 9, we have ignition sequence start, 6, 5, 4, 3 2, 1, all engines running. We have lift-off!”

Peter’s eyes stayed locked on the massive rocket as it slowly rose with smoke and flames spewing out from underneath. The Zeus rocket seemed to be in no rush as it inched skyward. The monster was obviously vibrating the shit out of the crew. Come on, baby, clear that tower.

After a few tense moments, launch control sent their last message to the crew. “Tower clear.”

Peter let out a deep sigh. With the tower cleared, EarthOrbit’s mission control in Houston was now in control.

“Roger, Houston has control.”

The whole launch team stood up and let out a thunderous cheer.

The director quickly reminded his team they still had a job to do. “Good work, gentlemen, but we still need to bring home that first stage. Back to your stations.”

Fortunately, the angled window allowed Peter to keep his eye on the rocket as it flew skyward, his headset allowing him to listen to Jesse and mission control going through their checks.

Once the rocket was out of sight, Peter sat at his console and watched the action on his monitor. Mission control called out, “You are Go for staging.” Soon the room was once again full of energy.

This was launch control’s signal the first stage was going to be released. It was time for the launch team to get back to work and fly the rocket’s lower section back to the spaceport, a first in space history for a manned flight.

Jesse’s voice stayed steady as he spoke. “Staging and ignition complete.”

Two of Peter’s monitors stayed steady on the first stage rocket as it separated, the other showing the upper stage as it continued onward toward space. Peter was more concerned with the crew than the return of the first stage rocket, so he kept his eyes on the single monitor. His smart phone lying on the desk did a short vibration, signaling a text. By a quick glance, he was surprised to see it was from Carl. Curious, he quickly brought up the message.

Emergency. Call me NOW!

Since Peter preferred to speak with Carl in private, he decided to hold off until the men were safely in orbit. He was too engrossed with the events to leave the firing room at this juncture of the flight. He set the phone down as he focused on his monitor, but an odd force was drawing him back toward his phone. He reluctantly grabbed it and saw three missed calls from the shop manager, convincing him he needed to phone the man immediately.

A small, empty conference room with windows stood adjacent to the firing room, a perfect place to make a private call and still keep an eye on the flight. He whipped off his headset and was on his feet in an instant. He maneuvered his way quickly through the working team. He pushed open the conference room’s glass door, letting it shut behind him. Low, muffled sounds continued to penetrate the room as he quickly thumbed in Carl’s number. While waiting for him to pick up, he placed his arm above his head and leaned against the glass, allowing him to keep tabs on the flight.

Carl sounded out of breath as he answered in an alarmed tone. “Peter, I’m so glad you called.”

Peter stayed calm. “No problem, so what’s up?”

Anxiety was getting the best of Carl as he started spitting out words in a staccato manner. “I tried to get a hold of you before the launch. I didn’t know what to do. I found an explosive device in a PDD and think there is a similar one on Iris 1. There is no way the parachutes will open. There will only be an explosion. Iris will crash land, clearly killing the crew.”

Peter straightened up and turned in disbelief. He took a deep breath. “What are you talking about? What makes you say that?”

Carl seemed to gather himself. “The PDDs came into EarthOrbit in lots of two, and there were three sets total received, each coming in separately. The first set to arrive was inspected and assigned to Iris 1. When the second set came in, we allocated them to Iris 2. Once the prime and backup units were designated for each set, the prime units were installed into their chosen spacecraft and the spare unit stored in our warehouse. When the third set came in, it was not assigned or installed, since a spacecraft was not ready yet. Thus they were not fully inspected. After doing some research, I determined the part numbers switched were between lots one and three. After further digging, it appeared the spare unit for Iris 1 was switched with one of the units in lot three. So the unit I told you I inspected didn’t arrive in the first lot. It wasn’t the original backup unit. After a sleepless night I was convinced I needed to inspect both units in lot 3.”

“What did you find?”

Carl’s voice elevated in pitch, “Some futuristic explosive device in one of the units with Chinese characters on it, something I’ve never seen before. I’m sure this was the unit originally in lot 1, meaning the prime unit probably has the same device. If true, Jesse’s spacecraft will not deploy its chutes.”

Peter started to pace the room as he dug his hand deep in his hair. China was involved, and if they wanted to destroy the Iris spacecraft with a modified PDD, both units in a particular lot would need to have the altered pyrotechnic device, since EarthOrbit decided which went into the spacecraft. Knowing the spare unit in the warehouse would be inspected after any accident, it made sense to switch it out. By putting it in lot 3, it could be smuggled out or used in another spacecraft if their operation failed. “Have you told anyone about this?”

Carl answered emphatically. “No.” He took a deep breath. “Peter, I was shocked to see Chinese characters. All the parts for those units were to be made in Germany.”

Peter needed to inspect the unit to see what kind of explosive device it was. Was it powerful enough to act as a bomb? “I understand. I don’t want you telling a soul. I have no idea who we can trust. I’ll fly back immediately. I suggest hiding the unit somewhere safe. I’d like to see it before we decide what to do.”

“Okay. I did take a picture of it.”

“Great, send it to my phone.” Peter planned on forwarding the snapshot to SID.

“Will do. I’ll hide the PDD in a cabinet in my office.”

“Got it.”

“SIR, I WAS just informed Peter Novak was not put on the flight.” Kuang crumpled the paper in his hand in anger as he looked up at his assistant standing in his doorway. “Why?”

Ming grabbed the doorknob to steady himself, his voice was deep and uncertain. “We are not exactly clear, but it sounds like our contact was concerned postponing the flight could lead to the bomb being discovered.”

Kuang’s upper body jolted erect. “So he rejected an order? You tell him we decide what happens, not him.”

Ming bowed. “Yes, sir.”

Kuang jutted his finger toward his assistant. “You pass on that I want that American, Peter Novak, eliminated. I don’t care how.”

With his head still down, Ming answered. “Yes, sir.”

23

CONFRONTATION

Seeing an ambulance pull out of EarthOrbit’s parking lot alarmed Peter as he drove up. He quickly parked and hustled through the lot. He bounded up the eight stairs leading to the company’s entrance with two long strides. He powered through the lobby glass doors and walked straight toward the receptionist desk. As he approached, the young lady had an uncharacteristically solemn look. She seemed to be in a deep trance.

Peter’s voice cut through the lingering tension. “Hi, Sherry, is everything all right? I just saw an ambulance leaving the parking lot.”

The receptionist blinked before looking up, sadness in her eyes. “I can’t believe what just happened.”

Peter put both hands on the desk as he leaned in. “What happened?”

“Our shop manager, Carl Stewart, just died.”

Peter’s heart sank as he instinctively balled both hands into tight fists. “What? How did that happen?”

She looked toward the entrance. “It sounds like he had a heart attack or something. He was found dead in his office.” She looked Peter squarely in the eyes. “I can’t believe it. I just talked to him this morning about his daughter playing volleyball.”

Peter was stunned and convinced this was no accident. Right away, he was stricken with guilt, wondering if his friend died because he threw out his name to Walter. His blood started to boil as he blamed Chris. He wanted to confront the old man immediately, but first he had to get that altered PDD out of Carl’s office. It was now obvious the shop manager was onto something, and Peter couldn’t let the evidence get into the wrong hands.

Without saying a word, he charged down the hallway to the shop floor. With every step Peter’s anger grew at the thought of the ex-NASA man having one of their own killed

As Peter approached Carl’s office, he saw all the window blinds closed. He asked one of the shop employees working close by, “Hey, any idea why Carl’s blinds are closed?”

The worker looked uneasy. “Did you hear what happened?”

“I did. It’s terrible news.”

The worker shook his head. “It’s a total shock to all of us. He seemed so healthy.” He leaned back against a milling machine as he pointed to the office. “Carl had his blinds closed off and on over the last few days. When I came in this morning, they were closed and his door was locked. I think he was working on something.”

Carl must have been inspecting the PDDs in his office. “Thanks.” He walked up to the closed door and slowly opened it. The room was dark, lit only by a few streaks of light passing through the blinds. He found the light switch. After his eyes adjusted, the office appeared to be in order, no signs of any struggle. He closed the door behind him before crossing to Carl’s chair. He ran his hand across the seatback where the man sat just moments earlier. He looked to the ceiling. Carl, I promise we’ll find out who did this and they’ll pay. Your findings will not go to waste.

He walked over to the workbench, which had tools scattered about. Carl had been working on something. Peter turned to the only two cabinets in the office. After a quick glance through each, he found no sign of the PDD. Frustrated, he did a more thorough search and still came up empty. Peter’s fear was confirmed; whoever killed Carl took the PDD and probably was working for China. He was now certain there was a bomb on the Iris spacecraft and Chris was involved. He was also convinced Carl’s death was somehow tied into Chris leaving the spaceport early. He had to confront the man.

PETER STORMED INTO the control room, set on dealing with Chris. He glanced at an overhead monitor to see the mission was going as planned. He tried to keep his emotions in check as he went directly to the old man’s console. He gave Chris a solid pat on the back.

A surprised look emerged on Chris’s face. “Hey, Peter, I didn’t expect you so soon. What’s up?”

Peter lowered his voice to a whisper. “I need to speak with you now, in private.”

Chris cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. “Can it wait?”

Peter stood his ground. “No!”

Chris shot him an annoyed look before taking off his headset and speaking in a condescending tone. “Okay, let’s go to my office.” He turned to the mission director. “Jerry, I’ll be right back.”

Peter followed Chris closely out of mission control down the long, empty corridor. The awkward silence seemed to get the best of Chris as he tried to make small talk. “Looks like the mission is going well. Your men are doing a great job.”

Peter snapped, “Yes, they are.”

Chris glanced over his shoulder with his left eyebrow cocked. Peter stared straight ahead. As they walked up the stairwell the only sound was the pounding of their footsteps. When Chris reached the top step, he asked, “Did you hear about the poor guy in the shop? He apparently died of a heart attack.”

Peter took a deep breath as he balled a hand into a tight fist. He kept quiet, knowing he could lose control if he responded. Chris looked back. Peter’s emotions were starting to get the best of him. He did everything in his power to suppress his anger, but it still oozed from every pore of his body. Chris appeared puzzled, which made Peter even hotter. Neither said another word as they trudged down the short distance to his office, Chris slumping as if he was walking the plank.

After entering the office, Peter immediately shut the door and locked it.

Chris turned with a baffled look. “What are you doing?”

Peter could no longer contain his anger. With Carl dead and his friends’ lives in jeopardy, the fury that raged within was begging to be released on this pathetic man. After years of restraint, Peter was ready to unleash the deserving wrath on the man he felt played a part in his father’s death.

He accepted the fact he was about to blow his cover.

With his adrenaline at an all-time high, he cocked back his fist and in a flash unleashed a powerful punch that connected right on the helpless man’s jaw. The forceful impact knocked Chris off his feet before his body crashed hard to the floor. A feeling of joy overtook Peter as he watched the shocked man grab his jaw and look up with fear in his eyes. Peter leaned down and pulled the feeble man up to his feet by the collar, before slamming him hard against the wall. “Why did you have Carl killed?”

A slight dribble of blood trickled down Chris’s chin as he gasped, straining to breathe. “What the hell are you talking about? Who’s Carl?”

Peter narrowed his eyes as he pushed Chris harder against the wall. “You know who Carl is.”

Chris grabbed Peter’s arms trying to loosen his grip, but was having no luck. “Are you talking about the guy who died? I don’t even know the man.”

Peter was getting irritated. “Why do you have secret bank accounts?”

Chris’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Peter wanted answers and punched the asshole again before banging him back against the wall. Chris’s aging body couldn’t take much of this punishment. “I’m enjoying this too much so you better answer my God-damned questions.”

With a pleading expression, Chris cried out, “What the hell has come over you? So I have some secret bank accounts, so what? What’s it to you?”

Peter stayed composed as he continued with his questioning. “Why do you have them?”

The pitiful man winced and shrank back, his gaze falling to the floor. “Because I have a gambling problem. The accounts are so my wife doesn’t find out. I already lost my first family because of the addiction.”

Chris was sounding convincing, but any undercover spy would have a good alibi. “What’s with the big dollar settlements? How have you been coming up with that money?”

Chris’s body went limp as if he was giving up the fight. He looked up. “How do you know all of this?”

Peter stayed forceful as he clinched his jaw. “Tell me.”

Chris’s eyes dipped in shame. “Selling my space memorabilia. It’s embarrassing, but I’ve had to sell much of it to pay off my debts. I even had to sell some of your dad’s stuff flown to the moon that he gave to me as gifts.”

Peter was getting frustrated as every question was being answered soundly and without hesitation. It was time to trip the asshole up. He figured if a bomb was onboard Iris, the most obvious place to explode it would be when visiting the International Space Station. Whoever suggested moving Blake’s spacewalk at the last minute was probably behind the conspiracy, knowing the rendezvous wouldn’t happen if the risky EVA failed. “Why did you move Blake’s EVA to after visiting the ISS?”

Chris’s demeanor became combative as he shot Peter a surprised look. “What are you talking about? I didn’t move the EVA. That was Walter’s call. All I suggested was cancelling the second EVA because I didn’t think it was smart doing back-to-back spacewalks.”

Peter was stunned. He let go of Chris as he took a step back. Walter? He tried to remember his conversation with the president. He couldn’t remember exactly how it was worded and wondered if he just assumed it was Chris that had the EVA moved.

“I can show you the email from Walter asking for the change.”

Peter pointed to the desk. “Show me!”

Chris brought his arm up, wiping the blood off his lip with his shirt as he slowly turned toward his desk. The man wasn’t walking fast enough for Peter, so he gave him a solid push from behind. Chris turned with an evil glare as he kept moving. When he reached his chair, Peter shoved him into it.

Chris lifted his hand. “Okay, relax.”

Soon the email was up on the screen. Peter positioned himself so he could clearly see the computer screen. The email looked legit. Peter was stumped. He didn’t know what to believe. He grabbed Chris, forcing him up on his feet as he looked him directly in his eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about this or I’ll kill you.”

Peter let the man fall back into his chair before turning to leave the office. As he hustled across the floor, Chris called out, “I assume you’re working for SID. But I don’t care, you’re still fired!”

Without breaking his stride or turning, Peter raised his hand and jutted up his middle finger.

Once in the hallway, Peter put both his hands through his hair. He was mystified. Either Chris had given one hell of a performance, or he was telling the truth. But how could Walter possibly be behind all of this? Why would he? Was he working for China? It just didn’t make sense.

Not knowing who he could trust and no longer part of the team, he needed to call Gavin right away and come up with a plan on how to save his friends.

He scurried to his own office and locked the door. It was only a matter of time before security would come knocking to escort him out of the building. He quickly called up Gavin. He wiped the bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face as he leaned back in his chair, taking in a deep breath.

The SID director answered. “Hello.”

Peter let out the breath as he lurched his upper body forward. “Hey, Gavin, it’s Peter.”

His boss’s grating voice joked through the phone. “Hey, I guess you’re not on that rocket. I heard the launch went off without a hitch.”

Peter replied in a no-nonsense tone. “It did, but we have a major problem.”

Gavin’s voice turned serious. “What’s that?”

Peter swallowed hard, knowing the words would shock the SID director. “I believe there’s a bomb on that spacecraft.”

“What? Is this related to the picture you sent us?”

Peter wiped away another bead of sweat. “Yes, the bomb is in the parachute deployment device.”

The director’s voice was strong as he spoke with crisp precision. “I just got some early input on that picture. The device looks to be consistent with an advanced new bomb recently developed by China, typically having the same Chinese markings. Even though it’s small, it’s one powerful son-of-a-bitch. We weren’t able to determine the size from the picture, but these bombs can have the power of up to a half a ton of TNT. However, our experts aren’t sure what to expect when one of those babies goes off in space.”

Peter craned his head back. “Wow. I’m convinced China is behind all of this. I’m sure their goal is to detonate that bomb when our men rendezvous with the space station.”

Gavin’s tone rose. “What? They plan on destroying the space station?”

Peter’s voice stayed steady. “Not sure what kind of damage can occur since we’re not docking with the ISS.”

Gavin sounded intense as his voice sharpened. “Doesn’t matter. If they plan on exploding any bomb within its vicinity, no telling what damage it can do. We can’t let this happen. Besides, if China is behind this, I bet they have a plan on how to get the maximum impact from such a blast. This needs to be stopped. Who’s behind all of this at EarthOrbit?”

Peter leaned forward, propping an elbow on the desk, extending his hand as if Gavin was on the other side of the desk. “I’m not positive. However, I think whoever it is had the man who discovered the bomb killed.”

“How did he die?”

“Supposedly from a heart attack, but I’m confident he was murdered.”

Without hesitation, Gavin asked. “What’s his name?”

“Carl Stewart, he was our shop manager.”

The director’s tone unexpectedly dropped, again composed. “Okay, I’ll have some agents investigate. Any chance the astronauts are involved in any of this?”

Peter vigorously shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Then we need to storm EarthOrbit’s facility and take over operation of that spacecraft.”

Peter shot to his feet. “No, if that happens there is a good chance they’ll set off the bomb, killing the astronauts.”

“Peter, I’m sorry, but we cannot risk losing the International Space Station and its crew.”

Though Peter agreed, he remembered his promise to Suzy. He couldn’t just let those men die. It was his responsibility to make sure they returned safely. He slowly started to pace around his desk. There must be some way of saving those men. His analytical mind started to race as he leaned back on his desk. His eye caught the white marker board hanging in his office with handwritten dates associated with the mission. He focused in on the circled date, which was the drop-dead date they needed to launch by, 9/29. A sudden realization popped into his head. The reason that date was selected was so EarthOrbit could beat SpaceQuest’s launch of their last test rocket. Surely that rocket was already on the pad. Maybe he could convince Allen to give him a ride. If SpaceQuest got him up quick enough, he could certainly figure out how to rescue the men.

Peter jumped back to his feet. “Gavin, give me a couple hours before you do anything. I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

Peter let out a sigh and spoke guardedly. “I need to make a phone call first. I’ll get back to you shortly.” Peter hung up and immediately started dialing Allen Ferguson’s number as he circled back to his chair.

After a quick hello, the CEO of SpaceQuest joked, “Peter, aren’t you with the enemy now?”

Peter settled further into his seat. He needed to be up front with Allen and explain why he was working for the competition. Since Allen supported both NASA and SID in providing a rocket for the moon mission, he fully expected the man to back this operation once he knew the facts. “I am, but I am here on assignment for SID.”

“Oh, you’re still working for the government? Then I guess I shouldn’t take it personally that you went over to the dark side. I was a little hurt when I heard you started working for EarthOrbit, especially since I never heard back from you after returning from space in Galileo.”

Peter did feel bad not circling back to congratulate Allen on the success of his equipment. Both the Newton rocket and the Galileo capsule had done a fabulous job on both missions. But things had been happening too quickly. “I’m sorry about that, Allen. I’ve been put on one assignment after another. In fact my fiancée is pissed I haven’t spent much time with her.”

“Wow, so you and Anya are engaged?”

“We are.”

“Well, congratulations. So what’s this assignment you’re on?”

Peter lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What I’m about to tell you is top secret, so it must not leave this conversation.”

Allen answered in an amused tone, “Peter, I’ve been through this before; I think you can trust me.”

Peter had to say that, but he fully trusted the CEO. “We think there’s a bomb aboard the Iris spacecraft.”

Allen’s response was as Peter expected. “A bomb? How did that get on their ship?”

“That’s a long story, but China looks to be involved. We believe their plan is to explode the bomb by the International Space Station.”

“Holy shit!” There was a moment of silence as Allen processed the information. “If they seriously damage or destroy that station, the whole space industry will shut down. There will be no place to shuttle cargo or astronauts. There will be no contract. That would kill my company. What do you need from me?”

“I’d like to hitch a ride on your test rocket.”

A shocked tone came out of the receiver. “What, are you serious?”

“It’s our only option.”

“You know I have dummies on there, right?”

“I’d just be another one.”

Allen’s voice relaxed slightly. “Funny. So what’s your plan?”

Peter scratched his head. “I really don’t have one yet, other than using your rocket to get me into space. I’d just be a passenger until taking control once you had me close to Iris. I suggest you have your team flying the rocket as you would for the test. You can explain to the media since EarthOrbit was trying to upstage your mission, you decided to return the favor by flying circles around them.”

“I like that. Well, I am only considering this since you have already proved yourself flying a Galileo spacecraft.”

Peter stayed quiet while Allen stewed on the idea.

Allen sounded almost angry, “I cannot afford anything happening to the space station. That’s our mother goose. So I’m game. If this is going to happen, you obviously need to get in space as soon as possible. The Newton rocket is ready, she’s currently sitting on the pad. We’ve just been waiting until September 29th per NASA’s request. So we can probably have you launched within twenty-four hours.”

“Perfect.”

“By the way, we still have the Skylab suit. Will you need it?”

Peter hadn’t gotten that far in his thinking about the operation. But he needed some kind of spacesuit to rescue the men, and the Skylab suit worked perfectly on the last mission. “Absolutely, I’m glad you still have it.”

“I’ll have our suit techs get it ready. So how soon can you get to the Cape?”

Peter pushed his chair back as he crossed his legs. “Not sure. I’ll catch the first flight out of Bush Intercontinental.”

Peter sensed Allen getting excited and taking control. “That could take forever to get you out here, especially having to fly into Orlando. That’s too much wasted time. Tell you what, I have an oil tycoon buddy who owes me a favor. He has a Learjet at Hobby. You hustle over there and I’ll make sure it’s full of fuel and on the tarmac ready to go. I’ll also set up clearance so you can fly directly into the Cape.”

“I owe you, Allen.”

“Yes, you do. However, America and I owe you for proving China wrong. The fact you were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to make that happen is tough to pay back. So let’s just say this will make us even.”

“Thanks, Allen, I appreciate this. See you soon.”

Peter quickly gathered his belongings as he started thinking the mission through. There was only one oxygen pack on Iris, and two were needed to get both men over to Galileo. Since the flight plan had Blake using the ship’s umbilical cord, he would need his own portable oxygen unit along with a special adapter so he could plug it into his suit. Peter’s only option was to sneak out the backup oxygen unit and adapter before leaving. Since he was no longer welcomed in the building, he would have to go into spy mode and steal them.

AFTER CLIMBING UP the emergency stairwell stairs to the second floor doorway, Peter stopped to turn an ear in the direction he had just hiked. He listened for anyone following. All seemed clear. He had been sneaking through the complex trying to reach the storage vault where all the spacesuits and equipment were stored, including the oxygen packs. So far he had been able to avoid the security guards, knowing Chris had probably alerted them. He was sure the asshole wanted him out of the building immediately, if not arrested for assault.

Peter slowly opened the door and entered a small windowless waiting room in the three-story building. Beyond the elevator door next to the stairwell, two closed doors stood on opposite sides of the waiting area. The storage vault was through the left door. As he passed the elevator, he confirmed no one was on the way up.

Hoping his access card still worked, Peter slid it across the door’s sensor pad. He exhaled a big sigh at an unlocking sound. As he entered the small, empty hallway, he noticed two doors in the corridor, neither with any markings. This was only his second time on the floor, but he was pretty sure the first one was the entrance to the storage vault.

His high-level clearance allowed him access to most of the facility, including the vault. His card unlocked the door. He calmly entered and saw a clerk sitting at a desk in front of a caged-in storage area; he’d guessed correctly. The clerk looked up from a wooden desk that had only a phone and a clipboard on it. Peter plastered a big grin on his face as he quickly scanned the clerk’s ID card hanging around his neck.

“Hello, Sean, how ya doing, buddy?”

The clerk tilted his head. “Hello, can I help you?”

Peter hoped the young man wasn’t aware security was searching for him. “I’m Peter Novak, the Manager for Astronaut Safety and Mission Assurance.” He extended his hand and put his belief into the white lie. “We met the last time I was here.”

Narrowing his eyes, Sean hesitantly grabbed Peter’s hand. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”

Shaking the man’s hand, Peter took a chance. “We talked about the Houston Astros and their dismal season.”

Sean’s shoulders relaxed as he nodded. “Oh, yeah. Boy, they are sucking, aren’t they? I say it’s because of their pitching rotation.”

Peter relaxed into his ruse. “Exactly, they better figure that out next season if they want to make the playoffs.”

Sean nodded. “So what can I do for you?”

“I need one of the oxygen packs.”

Sean picked up his clipboard and studied it. “I don’t see anything on here giving the okay for that.”

Only Chris and Walter had the authority to discharge equipment. “It’s kind of an emergency. We might have a problem with the spacewalk coming up and we need the unit for a simulation.”

Sean started to pick up the phone. “I need to get Chris Riddick’s approval first.”

Staying calm, Peter figured there was a 50-50 chance Chris was at his desk. “He’s not there; he’s in the control room observing the mission. You can call him there, but there’s a minor crisis going on and it’s pretty hectic down there.”

After studying Peter for a second, Sean set the phone back down. “No problem, follow me.”

Peter smiled, having overcome the hurdle. The clerk punched in a few numbers on the gate’s keypad. As he opened it, he pointed to a cabinet. “The oxygen packs are over there.”

“Got it, thanks.” Peter walked over and swung open the cabinet, quickly pulling out a unit with an umbilical cord strapped to its side. He studied it for a second to verify it was okay. Once satisfied, he grabbed the pack by its handle. “I also need the adapter for our spacesuits, do you know where that is?”

“Yeah.”

As the clerk walked toward a locker drawer, the phone on his desk rang. He stopped as if he was going to go answer it. Concerned the call could be security, Peter motioned in the direction Sean was headed. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”

Sean nodded as he hustled to the drawer, unlocking it before turning to leave. “Take what you need.”

Peter called out as the man rushed back to his desk. “I just need one.”

Peter promptly located the correct adapter. As the clerk answered the call, Peter swiftly passed by while raising both the adapter and oxygen pack to show this was all he was taking. Sean signaled he understood. As Peter exited he overheard, “Yeah, Peter Novak is here.”

With his location known, Peter had to hightail it out of there. He shoved the adapter in his pocket and raced back to the waiting room, carrying the oxygen pack safely by his side. He noticed the elevator was on its way up before he entered the staircase. The sudden sound of a 2-way radio echoed from below. “Peter Novak is on the second floor of Building 3.”

Footsteps rushed up the stairs in an insistent cadence. Shit. His only choice was the third floor. He vaulted up the stairs two at a time as quietly as he could. He halted at the door. The footsteps were now mixed in with men’s voices, which he couldn’t decipher.

He leaped into the third floor waiting room, which was empty and similar to the one below, except there was only a single door. Peter had no idea what was on this level. He flashed his key card across the door pad, but nothing happened. He tried it few more times, still nothing. Damn it, they must have deauthorized it. He studied the lock for a moment to see if he could bypass it, but without the proper tools, he was out of luck. He turned to see the elevator had stopped on the second floor. He was stuck. His only choice was the roof.

Reentering the stairwell, Peter was startled by a security guard on the lower landing. They locked eyes for a moment.

“Mr. Novak?”

Without acknowledging, Peter sprinted up the final flight of stairs, crashing through the rooftop exit. He swiftly scanned the area. His options looked bleak. As he darted across the roof he heard the exit door swing open behind him.

“Stop, Mr. Novak.”

Without looking back, Peter reached the building’s edge. He spotted two trash bins thirty feet below. One was full of metal shavings, the other paperwork. He looked back to see two guards fast approaching. He had no choice, he had to jump. He quickly positioned himself over the bin full of paper. He took one last look back at the guards who were now running.

“Don’t jump!”

With the oxygen pack by his side, he centered himself perfectly over the bin. He wished himself luck as he leaped, falling in a seated position. Please, no surprises in that bin. The landing was soft, similar to when he used to jump off his bunk bed into beanbag chairs. He struggled to climb through the paperwork and cardboard boxes. He took a swift scan of the oxygen pack, which looked fine. He looked up to see shocked looks on the guards’ faces. It was obvious they weren’t going to jump. As he climbed out, he noticed a big, blue ink spot spreading on his shirt. Damn!

Peter gave a short wave to the guards as he hopped to the asphalt and sprinted to his car, happy to be carrying Blake’s future lifeline.

24

LEARJET

The sweltering heat was draining Peter as he patiently stood on the hot tarmac at Hobby Airport. The portable oxygen unit was safely by his side along with his backpack on his shoulder. While waiting for the Learjet’s door to open, he looked out toward an old hangar where he used to wash his dad’s plane as a young boy. He smiled as he replayed fond memories of his father purposely misdirecting the hose on hot days to get him wet, which always led to fun water fights. A sudden hydraulic noise grabbed his attention. He turned to see the jet’s door split open like a crocodile gradually opening its mouth, the bottom part with steps falling just short of the ground inches from his feet. A man in a pilot’s snappy white uniform stuck his head out with enthusiasm on his face. “Hello, Mr. Novak.”

Peter grinned as he climbed the few steps of the newer $10 million plane, turning his head to get a glimpse down the sleek, aerodynamic body colored in a cool, red and white scheme. He was going to enjoy this. A welcome blast of cool air slammed him as he ducked his head and entered. He extended his hand. “Hello there.”

The man shook Peter’s hand with gusto. “My name is Lon.” He pointed to the oxygen unit and backpack. “Can I take those for you?”

Peter handed over only the oxygen unit. “Thanks, but I’d like to hold onto the backpack.”

“Do you have any other luggage?”

Peter grinned; all he had was the backpack he took to Nevada. Only difference was all the clothes in it were dirty. “Nope, that’s it.”

Lon gestured toward the cabin. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

Peter wiped the perspiration off his forehead. “Thanks, Lon.” Before taking his seat, he had to take in the plane’s plush interior. He scanned the elegant, narrow cabin that had seating for six. Three pairs of luxury lounge chairs were positioned in rows with the aisle splitting them, the first two turned backward. Since he was going to be the lone passenger, he had his choice of seat. Other than the black carpet and small, black, glossy tables, the rest of the well-lit interior was in a crisp cool white, like a suave nightclub. The smell of genuine leather filled his senses. He turned to Lon. “This is very nice.”

“I am glad you approve. Can I get you a cocktail before taking off?”

Peter figured what the hell, his throat was parched anyway. “Sure, a beer would be great.” He assumed the second man in the cockpit was the commander. He boldly stuck his head in. “Hello.”

The man turned and extended his hand. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Novak.”

Peter shook the man’s hand as he examined the impressive control panel. “Any chance I’ll get to fly this baby?”

The pilot spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “How about you just sit back and enjoy the luxuries this plane has to offer?”

Peter took that as a nice way of saying, no. “Got it, will do.” He started working his way down the slim aisle in a slightly crouched position. The plane was designed for speed, not roominess. He selected one of the seats aimed forward. Soon Lon was walking up with a beer in hand, a white cocktail napkin underneath. He had an odd look as he stared at Peter’s shirt. “Do you need a wash cloth or anything?”

Peter grabbed the beer before looking down at the big, blue stain splattered all over his white polo shirt. He had forgotten about the mess. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s dry. I had a little accident.”

“Got it. Well, Mr. Harmon wants you to enjoy yourself. Whatever you need, just let me know.”

Peter assumed that was the plane’s owner. “Will do.”

As Lon went about storing the oxygen unit, Peter settled in and enjoyed the ice-cold beer. A sly smirk crossed his face as he looked back down at the ridiculous stain, knowing he was lucky to be onboard the jet after escaping EarthOrbit with the oxygen pack. He was pleased he didn’t damage it, confirming it was operable before boarding the jet. If only the guards knew he was stealing the unit to save one of their own.

Soon Peter was pushed back in his seat by the plane’s muscle as it smoothly cut through the thick Texas air at an aggressive rate of climb, its powerful engines humming in the background. As the pilot put the plane in a sharp bank, Peter looked out over southern Houston in the direction of his home. Guilt washed over him as he thought of Anya. He wished he could have stopped by before taking off, if even for just a quick hug. But there wasn’t time. Damn, she didn’t even know I was in town. He needed to give her a call.

He pulled out his phone and dialed up Anya.

“Hello,” she answered in a soothing voice, putting him at ease.

“Hey beautiful.”

Her tone became lively as her voice vibrated out of the receiver. “I sure hope you’re on your way home. Guess what I’m wearing?”

Peter let himself get a little excited with that question as he allowed his mind to go wild. “My favorite high heeled boots with fishnet stockings?”

Anya giggled. “Well I know where your head’s at, which isn’t such a bad thing. Sorry, but no. I got off work early today to buy a dress for the White House. I’m trying it on now.”

Peter felt bad the visit wasn’t going to happen as planned. He didn’t feel right blurting it out right away. Instead, he imagined her checking herself out in the new dress in front of their full-length mirror.

She broke the silence. “Though I went for elegant, I kept it on the sexy side just for you.”

“I bet it’s beautiful.” Peter got an idea. He had a photo of Anya on his last two missions. Why break the tradition now? “Do me a favor—take a picture and send it to my phone. I want to see it.”

“Okay, hold on.”

Peter looked out the window as he visualized her taking the picture. He thought of jokingly asking her to go put on the boots and stockings instead, but any X-rated picture would only distract him in space.

“Okay, sent.”

“Just a sec.” Peter brought up the snapshot. A broad smile instantly emerged. As expected, she looked stunning. The stylish dress was red and form fitting. “I love it. You look gorgeous.”

“You’re sweet, thanks. So it sounds like you’re on a plane. Are you on your way home?”

Peter rubbed his hand up and down his leg. He felt it best to be vague. “I am on a plane, but unfortunately it’s not taking me home.”

Her tone lowered with disappointment. “How come?”

“I was put on a new assignment, and as you know, I can’t elaborate. Sadly, we’ll have to postpone the White House visit, but I promise that dress won’t go to waste. I should be home next week.”

Frustration resonated from her voice. “I guess this is what I should expect if I’m going to be married to Mr. James Bond.”

“Remember, Double-O 14.”

“I remember. I just hope that doesn’t mean double the missions.”

“Nope, just double the man.”

“THAT DAMN AMERICAN keeps slipping through our fingers,” Kuang barked. Ming had just informed him that Peter Novak had escaped certain capture at the headquarters of the American space company. Kuang pounded his fist hard on his desk. This man had become a pest he wanted to crush. “I want that man killed!”

Ming bowed his head. “Yes, sir.” He slowly lifted. “Sir, you should also be aware of something else.”

Kuang’s face tightened as he shot the small man an intense stare. “What?”

The assistant director spoke in a timid voice. “Novak stole a portable oxygen unit.”

Kuang launched to his feet, causing his chair with its small wheels to slam hard against the wall behind him. “He’s going to try to save those men. I know it.”

Ming gave an affirmative nod. “MSS concurs with your assessment, though they doubt he will be able to launch into space.”

“Don’t underestimate that man. He almost singlehandedly exposed our moon operation to the world.” Kuang pointed to his assistant. “I want you to inform me of any rocket launched out of the United States. I’m sure he has some plan on how to foil Tianlong. He must not succeed. Our careers depend on it!”

PETER FELT THE pressure as he ended the call with Gavin. His boss gave him an ultimatum, save the astronauts within thirty-six hours or the CIA would storm EarthOrbit’s facility. Such action would certainly be a death sentence for his friends on the Iris. After updating Gavin on his idea of flying the Newton rocket, it was obvious the SID director was uncomfortable trying a rescue while a bomb was floating around in orbit. After Peter assured Gavin that the men were not scheduled to rendezvous with the ISS for two and a half days, his boss relented and gave him the firm deadline. Gavin stressed that America had too much to lose to risk the station being destroyed. Peter understood.

Peter now had to come up with a plan. He took the last sip of beer before taking out a notepad and pen from his backpack. He started jotting down notes. If China was behind the operation, they would unquestionably be monitoring Space Quest’s rocket and any communication associated with the flight. Since there were supposedly only test dummies on board, he would have to stay in a radio blackout. He would be able to listen to mission control, but not able to respond. This presented a challenge when he rendezvoused with the Iris spacecraft. How would he be able to inform the men that there was a bomb on board? The men would need at least twenty minutes to don their spacesuits before evacuating, giving China plenty of time to detonate the bomb if radio silence was broken.

Peter scratched his head as he tried to come up with some way of communicating with the men. EarthOrbit was not using America’s network of communication satellites, known as the TDRS system, for radio communication. If they did, he could have communicated with the Iris crew during the short blackout period that occurs during each orbit as their spacecraft pass through the Zone of Exclusion, the point when they would be out of contact with any of the network’s satellites. EarthOrbit had full coverage around the Earth with no gaps.

He also had to worry about the astronauts saying too much over the radio. He was sure the commander would notify mission control once he spotted the spacecraft approaching. Peter hoped SpaceQuest’s earlier public announcement on why they were there would prevent any concern. They were there to show off. He just had to make sure Jesse didn’t tell mission control the spacecraft next to them was manned. China would interpret that as a rescue mission.

Peter looked back out his window. Come on, Peter, you can figure this out. As he stared out over the clouds, the small wing tip sticking up slightly blocked his view. Then it hit him. What if he could take out Iris’s main antenna? If he was able to do this, the crew would be forced to use the backup omni antenna built into the ship’s body, which he could overload with transmitted noise. But with their only line of communication disrupted, how would he be able to correspond with the men to tell them what was going on? Damn, this is a maze of challenges.

He stared back outside. The red navigation light at the end of the wing caught his eye. He gazed at the beaming beacon for a moment, transfixed by its bright color. The light quickly flickered, as if it shorted for a second. The odd occurrence triggered an idea. I could communicate by Morse code with a flashlight through the window.

Peter smugly straightened up in his seat and wrote down some notes of his plan. As an ex-Navy SEAL, Jesse would know the old military code. Once the commander was informed of the situation, Peter could stop overloading their antenna so Jesse could notify mission control everything was fine.

Peter still had a major obstacle. How was he going to take out the main antenna? He pulled away from the widow and leaned back in his seat. He stared at the lounge chair across from him. His only option seemed to be to take control of Galileo earlier than scheduled and use it to snap off the antenna on Iris. Of course, the ship wasn’t designed to crash into objects. Any such action could fatally damage the craft. Peter closed his eyes as he visualized Galileo, trying to determine the best location for the point of impact. Using any part of the vessel that would be returning home was too risky. He could possibly use the backend trunk, which would be discarded before re-entry. However, this would be a tough maneuver with both solar arrays extended from the sides. He shook his head; no matter how good a pilot he thought he was, pulling off such a stunt without damaging the solar arrays on either craft was practically impossible.

He opened his eyes as Lon walked toward him holding a serving tray against his body. That’s it! The Galileo was equipped with the Whipple Shield, positioned at the front of the craft to protect the ship from dangerous space debris. Perfect.

Lon interrupted his thoughts. “Can I get you another beer?”

Peter looked up. “That would be great, thanks.”

As Lon reached down and took the empty bottle, Peter began reviewing the idea in his head. Though challenging, his crazy plan just might work. Taking out the antenna with the disposable shield located in the front of the ship would definitely be a tricky maneuver, especially having only one shot. If he was just slightly off, he could damage their ride home, but this seemed to be his only option. Of course, he would have to keep his scheme a secret. Allen would never go along with any plan that threatened his spacecraft.

Peter’s phone rang. Thinking it might be Gavin, he checked the caller ID, eager to tell his boss the plan. He smiled when his mother’s number showed instead.

He punched the accept button and answered in his dutiful grown son voice. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello, son, how are you?”

Lon approached with his beer. Peter plopped both feet comfortably on the lounge in front of him. “I’m doing pretty good right now.”

“That’s great. So do you remember Betty Jones?”

Peter set his notebook down before grabbing the drink, giving Lon a slight nod in appreciation. “Of course, why?”

“She’s on the Board of Directors for the Kemah Yacht Club, and they just had a cancellation for their dining hall on Saturday, April 20th. She said there is a waiting list, but since she owes me a favor, she has offered us the slot for your reception. I think it would be the perfect place. You could even get married right by the water. What do you think?”

Peter took a swig of beer. “Have you talked to Anya about this?”

“Yes. She seemed excited but wanted me to get your reaction first.”

Peter leaned back in his seat. “Mom, if you two are happy, then so am I.”

“Great, I’ll have it booked. One more thing, can you stop by next week and clean out the gutters?”

No matter how intense the spy business was, he still had to answer to his mother. “Sure, Mom.”

After hanging up he looked back out the window. He was looking forward to that moment when he could call Anya his wife. As he savored the moment, he realized his necklace with Anya’s gift and his dad’s locket was at home. This would be his first spaceflight without the good luck charms. He hoped not having the treasures wasn’t an omen.

25

LAUNCH

Dressed in SpaceQuest’s blue X1 flight suit, Peter calmly waited to board the Newton rocket for his third launch into space. His demeanor stayed steady as he stood on the swaying platform suspended high in the air off the crane’s boom. There would be no dress rehearsal for this launch, just as there hadn’t been for his launch with the Soyuz. There wasn’t time. The rocket was scheduled to lift off in two hours. Peter was pleased Omar would once again be strapping him into the missile, as he did for his first launch. The technician had a calming air about him that helped put Peter at ease.

After securing the platform against the massive rocket, Omar and his assistant started working to open Galileo’s hatch. Peter took advantage of the free moment to look out toward some of the old launch sites spread out at the Cape. As he inhaled the salty air, he zoomed in on launch pad 39A, the site where his dad had fired off for his two missions. He couldn’t believe he was on the threshold of passing his father in number of spaceflights, and all within a few short months.

He turned and faced the impressive rocket, just inches from his face. The massive engine had been awakened from its comatose state as gases breathed out of its sides. He put his hand on the vibrating machine and lightly caressed it. Even though it was made of metal, the rocket still seemed alive. It was as if he was visiting an old friend. Only a few months ago he was in this same spot getting ready for his first space flight, a suicide mission to the moon. Then, he had been nervous as hell. This time, he was a composed veteran. He turned his eyes skyward, knowing Viktor was looking down proudly.

Omar called out over the rocket’s loud hissing sound. “She’s ready to board.”

Peter looked down to see the hatch opened. He gave a slight nod before turning to get one last look out over the complex and the blue ocean in the distance. He took in a deep breath of fresh air, some of the last he would have for awhile. Let’s do this, Peter. He swung around on his heels with poise before handing his helmet over to the technician.

Omar lifted an eyebrow. “I guess you don’t have to pee, right?”

Peter chuckled. Omar was referring to when he found Peter peeing on the back tire of the van prior to suiting up earlier. Peter had to stay with the tradition taught to him by his old cosmonaut friend. “Nope, already took care of that.”

Peter crouched down before sticking his head into the well-lit cabin. The familiar smells of a new car greeted him. He raised his eyes to see a dummy strapped in the pilot’s seat on the other side of the couch dressed in a similar flight suit with a helmet on. The dummy faced forward, preventing Peter from seeing inside the helmet. The mannequin looked like Viktor waiting for him to board. “You’re not going to say, ‘hi’?” No response. As Peter crawled in, he noticed various wires coming out of the dummy’s side which were bundled together and flowed behind the seats. He poked his head over the couch to see the wires hooked up to an apparatus. He also saw the portable oxygen unit and another dummy strapped down tightly in the area. “Sorry, buddy, I guess I’m stealing your seat.”

Peter felt at home in the small capsule as he gazed about the familiar surroundings. As he settled into the commander’s seat, he leaned forward and out of curiosity peeked inside the dummy’s helmet. He let out a frustrated groan when he saw a big clump of colored wires. He wanted to feel the presence of a real person, so he reached over and flipped the visor closed. A lopsided grin crept across his face at the name Alexandrov stitched on the machine’s flight suit. He shifted his gaze toward Omar, who was halfway in the capsule preparing to strap him in. “I see you have my old buddy on board.”

Omar smirked. “That was Allen’s idea. Since you two were successful on the last mission, he felt it best not to break you two up.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like he doesn’t trust me on my own.”

Omar started grabbing the straps and pulling them around Peter. In a joking tone he answered, “That’s probably it.” He looked up and spoke seriously. “Your Skylab suit and helmet are stored in the storage compartment Z-2r, and your oxygen packs are in Z-1.”

“Got it.”

Soon Peter was alone with the dummies, listening to launch control go through their many checks. This time, there was nothing for him to do. Though he had a snoopy cap on under his helmet, his mic was turned off. This flight was designed to be fully automated. Even if something went wrong, there would be nothing he could do. If he blew his cover, his friends were probably doomed.

Peter pulled open a Velcro flap on his chest. He reached in the pocket and pulled out Anya’s picture. He lovingly admired his soon-to-be wife in the form-fitting red dress. Anya, there’s no way anything’s going to happen to me on this trip.

With a strip of Velcro already on the picture’s back, he attached it front and center on the console. With his visor up, he kissed the tip of his index finger before placing it gently on the picture. Just you and me, baby. Oh yeah, and a couple of dummies, not counting me of course. He smiled at his little joke as he looked over at the replica astronaut. “Don’t get any ideas, buddy. She’s mine.”

He began to review the mission in his mind. In the brief preflight meeting, he learned there was not enough time to get a SAFER in from NASA. So without a jet pack, he was forced to rely on only a tether line and his muscles to get him around outside the spacecraft. The plan was for him to park Galileo close to Iris, but not too close. Allen had requested at least ten meters away, and the tether line would be twenty meters long. The CEO was concerned with the bomb exploding and damaging his ship. In fact, he directed Peter to park on the opposite side of the bomb’s position with hopes if it did go off, the ship would be out of the way of any flying debris. Though the PDD was in the front of Iris, Peter knew the pyro-device was on the opposite side of the main cabin window, allowing him to position Galileo so he could signal the men.

With only his legs for propulsion, he understood the importance of getting a solid push. He didn’t want to slip like he did in lunar orbit and possibly miss his target. Though the tether line would allow him to try again if he was off, he was still restricted on the number of attempts due to his limited oxygen supply.

“This is Newton 9 launch control. We have passed the one-hour mark. Now T-minus 59 minutes, 45 seconds and counting for the launch of Galileo 2,” said Mick of Launch Control.

Peter’s knee started bouncing. He hated waiting, especially with nothing to do. Though he was confident the Chinese wouldn’t explode the bomb before Iris visited the space station, there were no certainties. He wanted to get up there as soon as possible and get his friends out of that spacecraft, but he had to wait for his launch window.

He took a deep breath and tried to settle down. Hearing launch conductor Mick Vester’s voice reminded Peter when he was introduced to Mick earlier during the prelaunch meeting. Mick had informed him they were in the same third grade class together at Webster Elementary School down NASA 1 roadway. Though Peter couldn’t remember the guy, something about the conductor struck an odd chord. At the time, Peter couldn’t place it, but as he began to relax his mind, the memories trickled in. He recalled Mick went by the name of Mickey. He was a nerdy kid whose father worked for mission control at NASA.

As the chatter continued over the radio, Peter closed his eyes.

It was Career Day and Peter’s father was about to speak in front of his 3rd grade class about his job. Peter was disappointed his dad was speaking on the same day as Billy’s father, who owned the new Super Slide just off NASA 1. Ever since construction began on the huge slide, it was all the kids talked about. Everyone wanted to be the first to ride it, and Billy made sure all knew his father was the one building it. He had become the most popular kid in school.

Peter’s mom tried to convince him his classmates would be interested in hearing his dad talk about his adventures on the moon, but Peter was convinced no one would care. They all had met an astronaut. In fact, some of their fathers were astronauts, and if not, there was probably one living next door.

Soon Peter’s father was in front of the class, describing what it was like launching in the Saturn V. Peter looked around to see some kids passing around notes, uninterested at what was going on in front of the class. When his father finished, the teacher asked if there were any questions. Peter wanted to hide under his desk when no one raised a hand. The teacher tried to encourage them. “Come on, class, I’m sure someone has a question for Colonel Novak.”

Peter nervously straightened up when the class clown raised his hand. “Do astronauts really drink Tang in space?”

Some of the boys snickered as his dad answered. “Not anymore, but we did drink it on the Gemini missions. It helped the water taste better.”

Mickey raised his hand. Peter was counting on the brain of the class to ask a good question. Mickey stood tall and straight by his desk when he was called upon. “Do you drive a Corvette?”

His father answered. “I do.”

Peter was surprised Mickey didn’t sit down. Instead he adjusted his glasses before he challenged Peter’s father. “My dad says all astronauts get Corvettes for free. He says you really don’t deserve it, that you get them because you think you’re special.”

Peter sunk down in his chair.

His dad calmly walked closer to the scrawny boy. “Son, we don’t get those Corvettes for free, but we do get a really good deal. But you’re right. I do think I’m special, but you’re special too.” His dad pointed toward the teacher. “Mrs. Thompson is special.” He then waved his hand out over the class. “In fact, everyone in this room is special. All of you should always believe that.”

With no more questions, his dad solemnly walked over to a chair by the teacher’s desk. Peter hung his head when no one clapped. As Billy’s father stood, a sudden buzz hummed over the class. Peter looked up to see his father shoot him a thumbs-up sign with raised eyebrows, questioning how he did. Peter lowered his head in disappointment as he turned away, not responding.

Peter slowly emerged from his daydream to Mick’s voice calling out the countdown. He sat in a daze as he stared at the control panel for a moment. A sinking sensation began to overtake him as his head cleared. He had long forgotten that day. But now, especially being an astronaut, he realized how unfair he had been to his dad. He should have proudly stood next to his desk and clapped with enthusiasm when his dad finished, not caring what his friends thought. Peter looked back out the window. Sorry, Dad. I just didn’t get it. Thanks for supporting me and being a great father.

THE PRESIDENT LEANED back in his chair as he sat across from Jack Dawson. The secret agent man had his legs crossed. Curious why Jack had called the meeting, the President got right to the point. “So what did you need to see me about?”

“Sir, it looks like we have another crisis in space.”

The President threw his hands up in frustration. “Damn it, again? What’s it this time?”

“It appears China is attempting to bomb the space station.”

The President’s jaw dropped. “What? How?”

“Our intelligence has learned the device might be on a commercial spacecraft currently circling the Earth.”

“So it’s one of our ships?”

“Yes, sir. We believe China snuck the bomb on board.”

“Hell, then why don’t we just bring the ship home?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. At this point, we do not know who’s pulling the strings within the U.S. company. Our fear is if it’s learned that we know of the bomb, it will be set off early, killing the crew.”

The President tilted his head as he leaned over his desk. He spoke in a strong and direct tone. “I’d rather we lose two men than the space station.”

“Sir, we concur. However, we are trying a rescue mission first. We are hoping to evacuate the men before their ship reaches the space station. Once they’re safe, we’ll storm EarthOrbit’s headquarters and terminate the mission.”

The President looked right through Jack as he slammed his fist hard on his desk. “Damn it. First it was a moon hoax and now it’s a space hoax. The next thing you know China will claim Jesus Christ was Chinese.”

Jack struggled not to laugh.

The President leaned back in his chair and spoke in a demanding voice. “Is this operation under way?”

“Yes, sir. We have our best man on the job.”

The President cocked an eyebrow. “Let me guess, Peter Novak.”

“Yes, sir.”

“10…9…8…7…6… MAIN ENGINE START.”

Peter held on tight as the wild shaking began. The thunderous sound of those nine liquid-fueled engines igniting in quick succession engulfed the entire cabin, sending goose bumps all over his body. Even as a veteran flying the Newton rocket for a second time, Peter still couldn’t get over the amount of shaking involved in getting the powerful beast airborne.

“4…3…”

Peter’s head was rattling uncontrollably from side to side like a bobblehead doll in a hyper kid’s hand as the potent engines ramped up to full power. As calm as he had been launching in the smooth Soyuz, his blood pressure was skyrocketing as the awesome energy of the Newton rocket penetrated every pore of his body.

“2…1…zero…we have lift off.”

A sudden jolt in the vibration signaled the four hydraulic clamps holding the mighty rocket down had snapped back, freeing it for flight. A surge of adrenaline shot through his body as the vibration took on a 360 degree range of motion and increased in intensity. He struggled to cross his gloved fingers in hopes of bringing himself a little luck. The next few seconds were the most critical and dangerous of the launch as the monster gradually attempted to clear the tower. He was shoved deeper into his seat as the rocket exerted over a million pounds of thrust. Peter tried to look over at the dummy, but trying to move his head was fruitless.

“Tower clear.”

Peter had been holding his breath. When he relaxed his stomach muscles, the increasing g forces pushed the air out of his lungs. He uncrossed his fingers.

“Roger. Roll,” said Bernie Lyons as SpaceQuest’s mission control took over the flight.

As he continued to fight the rocket’s force, Peter smiled around clenched teeth when he heard the flight director’s voice. He had no idea who would be calling the flight from California, but was pleased it was the man who got him through the dangerous pogo problem encountered on his first launch. Curious how the dummy was doing, he worked his head up to see his partner shaking, but still in one piece. “Hang in there, Viktor.”

Peter put his head back and focused on the monitors. Everything looked to be going as planned.

ANYA SUDDENLY JERKED awake from a deep sleep. She instinctively reached over for her lover, only to be reminded she was alone in their king-sized bed. She slowly rolled back over and set her head back on her pillow and stared up at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan. For some reason, Peter weighed heavily on her mind. She turned and looked out the window. The late-Saturday-morning sun penetrated through the clouds.

Honey, I hope you’re okay. I’m thinking of you.

A CHILL RACED through Peter’s body when he sensed a slight up and down fluctuation through the rocket’s violent vibration. His initial fear was the missile was experiencing the same pogo problem that happened on his first flight. Damn it, not again.

Without having Anya’s necklace hanging off the control panel to give him an early warning sign and confirm his suspicions, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the odd oscillations. After a few moments, it became obvious the up and down oscillations were happening and getting worse. The phenomenon was feeding on itself and if it continued, it would rip apart his ride. He looked at the monitors to see if mission control was working on the situation. Come on, Bernie, help me out! There was no indication they were aware of the problem, and he couldn’t inform them. “Viktor, they better figure this out or we’re screwed.”

The dangerous shuddering became so bad a small latched storage locker above him was forced open, dislodging its contents in all directions. He raised an arm in the nick of time to deflect an airborne manual. This was serious. The vehicle would soon tear itself apart. He had to make a decision. Did he break radio silence and save his ass, or did he ride out this crisis with the hope mission control would figure out the problem? With his head rattling uncontrollably, he tried to focus on Anya’s picture. “Baby, what should I do?”

He knew her answer. “Viktor, we can’t take this anymore!”

Peter accepted the terrifying revelation that death was imminent and he needed to do something to change the end result. Anya simply meant too much to him. He had to break radio silence and inform mission control to shut down the middle engine immediately. He strained to reach for the switch to activate his mic as the spacecraft fought his action. Right before his gloved finger was to make contact, his father’s voice echoed in his head. “Every man must face himself in the mirror.”

He instantly pulled his hand back. He couldn’t do it.

Peter forced himself to look over at the dummy. “We’re either going to survive this and save our friends, or we’re toast. Hold on.”

Every muscle in his body relaxed as he closed his eyes. A surprisingly peaceful sensation started to overtake him. He began to have an out-of-body experience, floating up in the cabin looking down at both himself and the dummy shaking violently. This spiritual episode was a first for him, and he had no idea what it meant.

26

GUESS WHO?

Peter was slammed hard against his seatbelt, jarring him to consciousness. With the eerie silence surrounding him and his lungs aching for air, he was confused at first as to where he was. He was momentarily blinded by the sunlight glinting through his window while there was darkness outside. He took in a big dose of oxygen. Out of the corner of his eye, he was stunned to see Viktor working the controls. Wondering what the hell his dead partner was doing next to him, he quickly jerked his head to get a better look. He let out a big sigh when he saw the wires coming out from the side of the dummy’s flight suit, reminding him where he was. Good, I’m not dead. He grinned at the arms dangling out in front of the dummy due to the force pulling them forward; giving the impression the fake astronaut was working the control panel. Suddenly the ship shook. Peter instinctively looked at the monitor. He quickly surmised they had just experienced MECO, Main Engine Cut Off, which probably woke him. The tremble he felt was the engine separating as they coasted on the verge of space.

Mission Control called out over his headset, “Stage separation is confirmed.”

Peter squinted hard at the dummy, which still looked like it was busy flying the ship. “Good job saving us from that pogo problem.”

Before the dummy could answer, they were both flung hard backward into their seats as the second stage fired.

Mission Control piped up with their status. “Second stage firing, avionics systems are performing nominally. Altitude is eighty-nine miles.”

Peter figured he must have blacked out during the pogo problem. He fought to keep his head steady while studying the monitor. Though the flight looked to be back on course, he was sure the trouble they encountered would probably prevent NASA from approving the rocket for manned flights, at least from this test.

The rocket started to roll and the colorful ball of Earth outside started to come into view. His eyes once again widened in awe, never tiring of the magnificent sight.

Soon they were going through SECO, Second Engine Cut Off. The rocket handled the operation flawlessly before releasing the second stage. Peter was now floating in his seat and the ride felt as smooth as glass. He looked over at the dummy to see its arms levitating. “Good job, partner.” He tried to do the Galileo fist bump with one of his hands to celebrate making it into space, but instead chuckled at their comical exchange. “You screwed it up just like Viktor.”

“SIR, A ROCKET just launched from Cape Canaveral.”

A gut feeling told Kuang that Peter Novak was on board. His keen eyes challenged his assistant. “Was it a NASA rocket?”

“No, sir. It belongs to the same commercial company that helped the American get to the moon.”

Kuang jolted upright in his chair. “That’s even worse. I’m sure Novak is on that rocket, planning to sabotage our operation.”

Ming took a moment as if trying to choose the right words to soothe his boss. “Sir, that company has been scheduled for over a month to do this test for NASA. They are trying to get their rocket man-rated. It’s flying unmanned.”

Kuang slammed his fist down hard on his desk, causing Ming to take a step back. “Bullshit, he’s there.”

“Sir, MSS has been abreast of the situation. They have asked us to closely monitor all communications associated with the flight to determine if it is manned.”

Kuang was livid. “He’s there. I know it. You inform me immediately if there is any indication a human might be on that spacecraft. If there is, we have no choice but to detonate that bomb. We cannot chance our plan being discovered, we must make sure we erase all evidence.”

“Yes, sir.”

SMALL POCKETS OF sweat had been pooling on Peter’s face ever since he manually took over control of his spacecraft earlier than planned. His action surprised the hell out of mission control, and the way they stumble through their latest announcement made it obvious they were probably freaking out back in California. He wasn’t scheduled to take the reins until fifty meters out, but he had no choice. He needed the extra distance to get reacquainted with the controls and to position Galileo perfectly to pick off the antenna.

Peter was fully suited up in the Skylab spacesuit minus his helmet, allowing him to listen to mission control. He had an oxygen mask strapped to his face as he breathed in pure oxygen, preparing his body for the upcoming spacewalk. After searching through the sea of darkness, he eventually was able to locate his target, which was a small glimmer in a higher orbit. Mission control had done a good job aligning the plane of Galileo’s orbit with Iris’s, but now Peter had to synch the two, which would require every ounce of his piloting skills. Different from when he flew Galileo for a short jaunt to dock with the space station, this time he had to tackle the science of orbital mechanics. His knowledge on the subject would be tested. He needed to synchronize his orbit with Iris’s so the ships would eventually meet at the same place at the same time, and at a manageable relative speed.

Peter’s radio crackled. “Galileo is on course to rendezvous with EarthOrbit’s spacecraft in ten minutes and counting.” He was relieved mission control regained their composure, a sign they had accepted that he had taken control of the spacecraft. Since their radio transmission was being monitored, Peter hoped SpaceQuest made the planned public announcement that they were flying their spacecraft toward EarthOrbit’s to prove their rendezvous capability. He didn’t want China getting nervous, thinking a rescue was underway.

Peter turned on the Docking HUD, the Heads Up Display, and set its frequency to tune into Iris’s transponder. Soon HUD was receiving information from the distant ship. Two vital pieces of information were now on his screen: Iris’s range and range rate. The display had computer imagery of what was beyond his window with a green, dotted box highlighting his target, which at the moment was only a tiny dot on his screen. It also kept him advised of his relative velocity versus the ship he was chasing. Currently, it was 120 meters/second, meaning he was traveling that much faster than his target. I’ve got to slow this thing down. Ultimately, relative velocity needed to be at a manageable two meters/second to give him his best shot at ramming into the round antenna.

The ex-NASA astronaut was frantically wrestling with the challenges of moving his ship in space. Every adjustment seemed to affect two other variables. When he fired thrusters to reduce his speed, his orbit changed, which in turned changed his altitude and relative speed. When he corrected his altitude, his speed was affected. It was a vicious cycle that typically required a team of physicists with computers to correct. But he was on his own to deal with the science. He wondered if he bit off more than he could chew, especially since there would be no practice rounds. He had one shot at getting this right. It was as if he was down to his last ball at a carnival game, and standing next to him was the pretty girl he was trying to impress, and next to her was his rival with a cocky smirk. His pulse raced as he continuously manipulated the controls. If there was ever a time he needed his old partner, this was it. Viktor was a wizard when it came to orbital mechanics.

Peter eventually had Galileo pointed at Iris before he fired the main thrusters for the final time, periodically applying his rotational thrusters to keep the nose of his ship aligned with the velocity vector on his display. In propelling his ship forward, he was actually slowing it down as it increased its orbit altitude. He had to constantly remind himself to breathe as he directed his attention to his monitors, occasionally looking out his window. When he reached the two hundred meter mark, he took in a big gulp of oxygen. He finally had a good view of his target; it was time to fly more like a pilot than a navigator. He turned his focus toward the images outside, flying more by instinct and feel.

The approach alert system started playing pinging sounds, increasing in frequency as he got closer to his target. Peter blurted out to the dummy, “Hey, earn your paycheck and read off the delta distance with Iris.” Once again, no response.

Galileo was now too close to Iris to use its powerful main thrusters, so Peter operated the linear thrusters to help guide the ship straight in. His target swelled in size. Luckily, he didn’t have to make any changes on his approach. His ship would be coming up from behind and under Iris, preventing Jesse or Blake from seeing it and determining it was manned. Anticipation grew as he studied the antenna hanging down under the ship. It seemed to tease him, daring him to pick it off. Piece of cake.

As he stared at the spacecraft positioned ominously above him, a sudden realization hit him. What if Jesse decided to rotate his ship to get a visual, creating the insurmountable task of trying to hit a moving target? He was already doing a first in space, purposely attempting to crash into a target on a spacecraft that was steady in flight. Trying to hit one doing a maneuver would take a miracle, and he was sure he was out of those. Plus, Jesse would undoubtedly detect Galileo was manned and broadcast his findings on the radio. Even if Peter dimmed the cabin lights, there would still be shadows from the glow of the display. Regrettably, he couldn’t just simply shut the shades since he needed to keep an eye on the antenna.

His one glimmer of hope was EarthOrbit’s mission control informing Jesse the unmanned spacecraft approaching was a SpaceQuest ship just trying to show off. Because of Iris’s tight fuel supply and its aggressive mission objectives, Peter was confident Jesse would be ordered not to waste fuel to get a visual. The question was, would he follow that order? If he, himself, was the commander, his curiosity would get the better of him. But Jesse was an ex-Navy SEAL, and one doesn’t get selected to such an elite task force by disobeying orders.

After a few tense minutes flying, Peter popped the switch to overload Iris’s backup radio with static noise. He was sixty meters out from his target. He took one last look at his display. His relative velocity was five meters/second. He was still coming in hot. He looked out to get a quick visual. The ship was angled just right so he quickly pushed a button to kill his rotation. He did a few taps on his reverse thruster and his heart started pounding. His full concentration was now through his window. It was time to see how good a pilot he was.

He sensed he was about twenty meters out while he worked to point the Whipple shield perfectly toward the three-foot round dish sticking roughly four feet off the Iris. Come on, Peter, don’t screw this up. His heart pounded wildly as he held both gloved hands steady on the controls, making minute corrections.

At ten meters out, he was impressed his ship was still right on target. Damn, Peter, good job. The looming shadow from the spacecraft above began to creep over his ship, but Peter’s attention never wavered from the antenna. Come on, baby. The front of his ship was going to block his view moments before impact, preventing him from seeing the hit. When he lost sight, he pushed himself tightly into his seat, preparing for the strike. He hoped for the best. A firm jolt confirmed he hit something. Sure hope I got that sucker.

Peter nervously waited out the next few seconds, confirming no further bumps or scrapes followed as the ship went into a slow spin. Relieved he cleared Iris with no further impacts, he swiftly started wrestling with the spacecraft to stop the rotation. He flashed a big grin when the metal dish flew past his window. He exuberantly raised his clinched gloved hand. That’s what I’m talking about. See-ya!

He was sure his friends were completely bewildered why another American ship just crashed into theirs, taking out their communication link to Earth. Peter hustled to maneuver Galileo into the right position with its window across from Iris’s. Once positioned, he promptly unhooked his seatbelt and snatched a flashlight, pen, and notepad. He peered out at the shiny spaceship floating eerily outside and saw a face staring back. He couldn’t make out whether it was Jesse or Blake. Peter first waved, but got no response. He quickly turned on the flashlight and pointed it toward the ship, sending an SOS first to get their attention. He was certain both men knew the international signal for an emergency. He kept repeating the message. Soon the head disappeared before reappearing, this time with a shining flashlight.

Peter set the notepad on his lap as he prepared to write down the coded message received. He adjusted his oxygen mask as he looked back out to see flashes of light already coming his way. He quickly wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead before calmly writing each letter down. It was obvious he was a little rusty as he struggled to interpret some of the quick flashes. He did the best he could. Once the message looked to be repeating, he looked at his notepad and chuckled at what was being asked. “Who the hell are you?” He was sure he was communicating with the straightforward commander.

Part of him wanted to jokingly respond, “Guess Who?” But he couldn’t waste time. Instead he was about to shock the hell out of both men. He started sending the signal, “Peter Novak. Bomb on Iris. Evacuate ASAP.”

After sending the message, Peter saw erratic movements happening inside. Then two faces peered back at him. They sent a response. “Your room number in Nevada?”

Peter was momentarily confused by the question. What the hell is he asking? He looked, but neither face budged. I guess they want proof it’s me. He quickly flashed his room number at the spaceport, “4.”

Flashes instantly returned. “How much time?”

Peter heaved a deep sigh. “Unknown. Evacuate ASAP. Have oxygen pack for Blake. Do not inform MC.”

One face disappeared as the other answered back. “Roger. Radio jammed.”

Peter responded. “Urgent. Tell MC nothing. Enemy listening. Radio will clear.”

“Roger. Keep MC in dark.” The head vanished.

Peter was sure the men were putting on their suits. He cut the transmission jamming their radio so Jesse could inform mission control all was okay. It was time for him to prepare to save his friends. He just hoped China wasn’t getting an itchy finger with a spaceship floating next to Iris.

KUANG RAN BOTH hands deep through his hair. Ming informed him the two American spacecraft were currently side by side in orbit. Kuang was convinced a rescue attempt was currently underway. He angrily snatched his phone.

“Who are you calling, sir?”

Kuang punched in Lin’s number. “MSS. We need to detonate that bomb now.”

Kuang stayed hunched over as he clutched the receiver tightly to his ear. He stared directly at his assistant director while impatiently waiting for an answer.

“Hello?”

Kuang broke eye contact with Ming as he looked straight across the room “Lin, its Kuang. I’ve just been informed the American ship is parked next to the Iris spacecraft. I insist we destroy Iris immediately. We cannot afford a rescue or any chance of our operation being discovered. We must erase the evidence at once.”

“Yes,” said Lin. “I just learned of this situation. I agree with your assessment. However, I need the director’s approval.”

Kuang clenched his jaw. “I’ll call him.”

“Sir, let me take care of this. I’ll walk over to his office directly. I’m sure he’ll agree with us.”

Kuang’s palms began to sweat. “You must insist we strike now.”

“I understand.”

27

“NO!”

Peter exited the hatch on the opposite side of where the Iris spacecraft was, hearing only the sound of his breathing bouncing around in his helmet. A peaceful moment enveloped him as he gazed out at the absolute blackness of space. Nothing compared to being alone in the universe. The vastness reminded him of what a speck he was in the cosmos. He looked at his planet and saw the dazzling lights of Ireland and the United Kingdom standing out in contrast to the infant sunrise that was only a thin, bright arc of beautiful pastels. Soon the complete darkness engulfing his ship on the night side of the Earth was about to be assaulted by the brightness of the sun. He snagged a deep breath while taking in the radiant scene. He wondered if his friends were doing the same. With his tether line attached to his suit, he quickly cleared his head before whirling around to the hatch. He gave a strong tug on the line, and watched most of its 20 meter length exit like a slow moving python. He cleared out the remaining slack before doing one final tug confirming the line was securely attached to his ship.

He lifted his arm so his helmet lights illuminated his watch. He marked the time. The small oxygen pack on his leg offered him only sixty minutes of air. He had already used up twelve precious ones depressurizing the cabin, and he needed enough for repressurization. He reached back into the hatch and grabbed the portable oxygen unit. Pulling out the square pack reminded him of the challenges of moving around in space. It was like moving in water, only without the water. Even for a veteran spacewalker, zero gravity still required practice to get used to.

Once he had the unit out, he began to climb up along the spacecraft to get into position for his leap toward Iris. The trek proved extra challenging, pulling the boxy unit along. He had to let go of it each time he reached for the next handhold, letting it float next to him until pulling it up after releasing the other hand. With his feet dangling behind him, he continued with this strategy along the ice-cold, metal ship. Once Iris was in view, a déjà vu moment swept over him seeing the shadow of an astronaut poking out of the hatch. The ship was precariously outlined by the moon’s glare. He shook his head, amazed he was about to do a second rescue in space, the only two ever in the history of space travel.

Peter positioned himself next to the solar array before cautiously crawling up onto his knees, constantly keeping a death grip on the array’s support structure while holding the oxygen pack with the other hand. To get a good assessment of his alignment, he looked out at his target that was roughly ten meters away. The astronaut saw him and waved. Peter could not respond with his hands full. He felt good with his position and pleased that Iris’s solar arrays looked to be out of his way. He carefully worked himself up to a standing position as he provided himself with a false sensation of gravity by pushing down off the metal structure. He put the oxygen unit between his legs before he started swatting at the bunched up tether line floating in front of him to clear his path.

Once the floating tether line was out of the way, he needed to develop solid footing. He had to make sure he didn’t slip like he did in lunar orbit. Bending over, his helmet lights picked up a handhold by his left foot. Perfect. He grabbed the oxygen unit before he slid the foot against the handle for stability. He positioned his other foot against the array’s metal support. Feeling confident he was ready, he looked out to get one last evaluation of his aim. All looked good. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he bent down as far as he could at the knees. Peter, think of that last ball at the carnival game. He looked one last time out at his target before shouting, “Let’s win a teddy bear!”

Peter let go of the solar array just as he powered off the ship with both legs. He was relieved not to slip and made a quick assessment of his direction. He looked to be dead on. Time moved in slow motion once again as he floated between the two spacecrafts. With his arms down by his sides, he constantly monitored his approach, making sure he wasn’t going to miss.

As he passed the halfway point, a chill ran through his body when he realized an important omission in his plan. How the hell was he going to stop? Damn it, Peter. The good news was his aim was right smack at the center of the ship. The bad news: that ship was solid and was going to hurt. At three meters out, Peter quickly glanced at the astronaut and could tell it was Jesse with a shocked look. Peter figured the commander was surprised the veteran spacewalker had no plan on how to stop. Peter had to accept he was going to look like an idiot as he pulled the oxygen pack out of the way, ensuring he would take the brunt of the collision. Right before impact, he spotted some thruster nozzles. He reached for one with his free hand to prevent him from bouncing off as he held his breath and braced for the crash. The right side of his body slammed hard into the ship, dazing him for a moment. Holding on to the nozzle, Peter cleared his head before looking at Jesse, who appeared to be laughing. Peter was pleased to have amused the commander. He aimed his helmet lights along the side of the ship to determine his best path to his friend. He figured he was only a few meters from the opening.

Once Peter was close, the commander extended his hand to help. Peter passed over the oxygen unit. Jesse snatched it before disappearing inside. When Peter came around and peered in, both men were staring at him. Blake had the oxygen unit in hand and an amused look. He flashed a thumbs-up sign. Peter figured Jesse probably just informed his partner about how he crashed into their ship.

A sudden uncomfortable feeling overtook Peter as he poked his head in. He couldn’t place it, but an aura of death resonated within. His pulse spiked as a sense of urgency overcame him. He needed to get the men off this ship. He hastily signaled he would take Jesse first, and then return for Blake. Jesse stubbornly shook his head no, as he pointed to Blake. Peter expected the commander’s rejection. Peter pointed to his watch before bringing two gloved fingers close together, signaling they had little time. He then ripped open a Velcro pocket on his suit and took out the adapter. He held it up and pointed to Blake, hoping both men understood they couldn’t wait around while Blake hooked up the oxygen pack.

Blake reached for the adapter before patting Jesse on the back and signaling the okay sign. Peter could tell by Jesse’s hesitant nod he was not happy. As commander, he should be the last to leave the doomed ship. Jesse saluted his partner before floating back over to the hatch. Peter moved to the side, letting the commander float out. Once Jesse was faced toward him, Peter pointed to the solar array as the place they should launch from. Jesse signaled okay as he started crawling to the location. Peter poked his head back in the cabin as he lifted up a hand with all his fingers extended, indicating he would be back in five minutes, which he figured was the time Blake needed to switch oxygen supplies. The young man simply smiled and nodded in agreement. Peter waved as he started to float out backward. Blake lifted his hand with an extended thumb and pinky finger, the middle fingers curled in. Peter smiled at the surfer’s gesture, meant to put him at ease.

By the time Peter crawled down to the solar array, Jesse was already standing next to the structure, anxious and ready to go. Peter worked his way up so he was standing on the opposite side. He handed over the portion of the tether line that had a clip. Once Jesse had it securely attached, Peter signaled they would jump on the count of three. He wasn’t quite sure how this was all going to work. Both men had to jump simultaneously and in the same direction. If one was off, who knows how their heading would be altered?

Peter made sure he had good footing and hoped Jesse was doing the same. He signaled for them to bend down. When Jesse looked to be ready, Peter extended his free hand with three fingers showing. He slowly counted them down to zero. He let go of the array and powered off the ship, seeing Jesse out of the corner of his eye doing the same. As they flew off the ship, Peter felt a tug. Not good. His intended direction changed. Peter assumed the commander must have slipped. Peter was ahead of Jesse and with his rigid helmet, he could not look back. He quickly analyzed their situation and an icy fear began to churn in his gut. They were going to miss, and due to the long slack in the tether line, there was nothing he could do to change their course.

As they passed the halfway mark, Peter saw he was going to be close to the end of one of the extended solar arrays, but was sure he would miss it, even with an outstretched arm. Luck wasn’t on his side as it had been in lunar orbit. Peter accepted their fate as he tried to figure out exactly what they had to do to get back to his ship. They were forced to ride out the full extension of the tether line before they would be snapped back in an unknown direction. He expected it would be a challenge to grab the line and pull them back. He had no idea how long that would take, and he feared the clock was ticking on the bomb.

As he floated by the array, he still made a valiant effort to try to reach it. He easily missed by a couple of meters. He let out a big sigh as he watched his ship fly by. Suddenly he felt a strong jolt as his forward motion came to an abrupt stop. There was only one answer for the small miracle; the commander must have grabbed the array. Good job, Jesse! The tug caused him to spin around, and he saw Jesse’s face straining as he struggled to hold onto the solar array. Soon his friend had a solid grip with both hands on the structure. Peter pulled on the short line between them until he was just above the commander on the array. He flashed a quick thumbs-up. Jesse reciprocated before anxiously pointing back to Iris.

Peter understood. Unfortunately, he had to climb to the opposite array before he could launch himself again to save Blake.

They hurriedly scrambled up the array. Once on the ship, Jesse gave a quick okay sign before crawling toward the hatch that was close by. Peter climbed in the opposite direction. As Iris came back in view, he did a quick look back at Jesse to confirm the commander made it into the hatch. He was fine. When Peter turned back around, he was shocked by a quick burst of bright light that briefly blinded him. Before his vision cleared, something smacked him hard on his helmet, almost knocking him off the ship. As he repositioned himself, he was momentarily confused. He peered back at Iris and saw high-velocity debris spreading out from the ship in all directions. The bomb had exploded!

“No!” Peter quickly ducked behind his ship out of the way of any further debris. He slammed his open-gloved hand hard against the ship. “Damn it!”

Since his ship was on the opposite side of where the bomb had just exploded, very little debris flew close by Galileo. However, his heart sank when he saw hundreds of glittering pieces flying in all directions out into space, a sure sign it was a major explosion. After a few seconds, he cautiously peered back over Galileo. He was shocked to see Iris had moved. The ship was slowly tumbling end over end with gases seeping out from her sides as it floated away. He was about to get in position to jump toward the moving ship before he realized there was no way he could catch it. He frantically searched for any sign of Blake. There was none.

He hastily worked his way back down to the hatch. He had no choice but to quickly fire up Galileo and fly closer to Iris. A sickening feeling swept over him as images of Blake’s family flashed in his mind. Come on, buddy, be alive.

ALLEN COULD TELL something serious was going on in the control room. Red lights flashed on some of the controllers’ consoles and an unexpected buzz arose among the team. Bernie stood at his console, barking out questions. Since Peter was in a self imposed radio silence, the team was in the dark. As CEO, Allen wanted answers. He walked straight up to the flight director’s console and tapped him on the shoulder. Bernie turned with a frustrated look and removed his headset. “Yes, sir?”

“What the hell’s going on?”

The director responded with a firm voice. “We don’t know. For some reason Peter took control of the ship and is firing thrusters.”

“Is there any way of contacting him?”

Bernie’s monitor distracted him. He bent down to study it and answered, “Not while he’s wearing the Skylab suit.”

Allen looked up at the screen at the front of the room that showed the location of both spacecraft. He tilted his head slightly. “Has Iris changed its orbit?”

The director typed in some response to what he was observing as he gave his boss only partial attention. “Yes.”

Allen was getting perturbed talking to the back of the director’s head and nudged him on the shoulder. “Why?”

The director took a step back and to the side of his console so he could keep an eye on his monitor but still face Allen. His voice was unmistakably frustrated. “Sir, I don’t know. Either the crew is flying it, or…” He stalled midsentence as he slowly turned away and looked up at the screen in front of the room.

Allen looked up, too, before directing his attention back to the director. “Or what?”

Bernie turned, and without blinking, spoke in an intense tone. “The bomb exploded, and that’s why it’s moving away from Galileo.”

The words hung in the air as they caught the CEO off guard. He took a moment to digest them as he looked back up at the screen. “Shit, is there any damage to Galileo?”

The director folded his arms. “That’s what we’re trying to determine. Various alarms are going off, but some of them are associated with Peter flying the ship without pressurizing the cabin. In fact, the hatch isn’t even fully sealed.”

Allen looked back at Bernie. “Damn, I didn’t even know the ship was capable of doing that.”

“Neither did I, but he’s doing it, and we don’t know why.”

“I want you to set up communication with Peter. If that bomb has gone off, then we don’t need to continue with the radio blackout.”

The director turned and took his seat to get back to the emergency. “Yes, sir.”

Allen was now looking at the director’s back. “And let me know the damage assessment as soon as you have it. We may want to call off this rescue.”

The director answered as he put his headset back on. “Will do.”

28

SURVIVE

To prevent his tether line from getting spun around the tumbling Iris during his search for Blake, Peter parked Galileo on one of its spinning sides, where he was able to keep an eye on the hatch. Though he would be rotating in reference to Galileo when inside Iris, his tether line would have a straight shot back to its ball joint connection on his ship, giving it the freedom to spin and not get tangled.

In a rush to get to Iris, Peter spent little time analyzing his situation. He relied on luck as he took his best aim and jumped. While drifting perilously toward the disabled craft Peter’s mind began racing as he got a close up view of the destruction left by the massive explosion. The top cone of the manned portion of the ship had been sheared off, leaving shards of metal dangling from the end.

Peter’s aim looked to be perfect, right at the center of the rotation. A handhold came into view just before impact. He grabbed the handle as he slammed into the ship, unfazed by the blow. The hatch was just a few feet away, its intact framing instilled some hope his friend could still be alive. Peter quickly crawled the short distance toward the entrance. Please, God, let Blake be in there.

Peter took a deep breath, before grabbing the last handhold and swinging around to take a look inside the cavity. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark shadows, he was overwhelmed by the devastation inside, debris floating all about. With no power, the only light was the faint sunlight reflecting off his suit. He conducted a frantic search of the gloomy interior using his helmet lights and moving his body around in a full circle, looking for any sign of Blake. He paused at the control panel, shocked to see it had been blown out of its position, mangled among the seats. A sickening feeling churned in his gut. Even though he knew he couldn’t be heard, he yelled out for his friend. He continued with his search until his lights picked up a ripped portion of the main cabin’s umbilical cord that Blake was originally attached to. Please be hooked up to the oxygen pack.

Not finding the astronaut among the destruction left a glimmer of hope. Peter launched himself out of the spacecraft, hoping Blake jumped clear of the explosion. He held on to a handhold as the ship spun, searching the vastness of space that encompassed him. The slow spin made it difficult to focus on any of the hundreds of small glimmering illuminations moving away from him—the debris from the explosion. Damn it, he could be anywhere. He hoped one of those flickering lights was his buddy. He moved his head all around in his fixed helmet, searching for any indication of life. Come on, Blake, where are you? His blood pressure was rising with every passing second, knowing his friend was floating deeper into space. As he continued the hunt, he remembered the training exercise when the young astronaut emphatically told Peter he would never leave him to die. Come on, buddy, show me some kind of sign. You can’t die!

Disappointed with his lack of success, Peter figured his only choice was to use Galileo to trace down his friend. Mission control might be able to use a satellite to pick up Blake’s location. Before rushing back to his ship, he needed to do one last-ditch search inside Iris to make sure he didn’t miss any clues. He jammed his whole body through the hatch and hastened around the mangled equipment, moving floating debris out of his way. He noticed a large space behind the seats he hadn’t searched. He moved part of the control panel to get a better look, aiming his lights deep into the dark area. His heart instantly sank at the grim sight before him; the lone oxygen unit wedged underneath the seat with its short umbilical cord floating off it like a serpent, his friend’s only lifeline. Damn it! Without that supply line, the only air available for the pilot would be the slim amount left in his suit. With no time to waste, Peter quickly pushed himself out of the capsule. Though the odds were slim his friend was still alive, he couldn’t give up. Not for Suzy, not for little Matthew. He prayed for a miracle.

His helmet lights moved erratically around in the cabin as he rapidly worked himself backward toward the hatch. His lights picked up an odd figure floated eerily in the corner. While continuing toward the exit, he steadied the lights on the object. He instantly stopped all movement. All hope was lost.

Hovering a few feet in front of him was Blake’s glove.

There was no way his friend’s body could survive the harshness of space. Peter solemnly reached out for the black object, expecting to see the gruesome sight of his friend’s hand inside. As he pulled the glove toward him, he saw it was empty except for small streaks of blood. He was surprised to see a string tied to one of the fingers. The thin twine extended into the darkness. He grimly pulled the string knowing what was probably on the other end. Soon the shiny front end of Matthew’s toy airplane began to pierce the light. As the toy hauntingly floated toward him, tears welled up in Peter’s eyes. He bowed his head in his helmet. He had broken his promise to Suzy. “I’m so sorry, Blake. Please forgive me.”

ANYA’S LIGHT-BLUE sundress kept her cool as she sat at the bar in her home. She wiggled her toes in her sandals while she cradled the phone on her shoulder, waiting for her brother to answer.

Dmitri spoke in their native tongue. “Hello.”

Anya decided to also speak in Russian. “Hello, Dmitri.”

“Hey, Anya, so how’s my little sis?”

Anya positioned the phone better against her ear. “Wonderful, everything has been going great.”

“And how are the two love birds doing?”

She put a hand on the counter as she leaned back in the barstool. “Fantastic, in fact that is why I’m calling. I have some exciting news.”

Her brother answered playfully. “I hope it’s what I think it is.”

She looked at Peter’s favorite bottle of wine sitting on the kitchen counter. “Peter and I are getting married.”

Dmitri’s voice perked up. “That’s what I was hoping you were going to say. That’s fabulous news. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Anya started dancing her fingers on the bar. “I have a special favor to ask.”

“Sure, what is it?”

She stopped moving her fingers. “I was hoping you would walk me down the aisle.”

Dmitri broke with emotion. “Anya, I would be honored.”

She smiled. “Great, we plan on getting married in Houston and the date right now is set for April 20. But before we firm it up, I wanted to make sure you and your family could make it.”

“Just a second, let me check.” There was a momentary pause before Dmitri came back in a chipper voice. “I’m all free, but even if I wasn’t, I’d still make it work. So go ahead and book that date.”

An image of her father passed through her mind. “Great. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

Her brother turned serious. “Sis, you know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Peter is a great guy.”

“Thanks.”

“So what’s Romeo up to lately?”

Anya settled herself more comfortably in the padded bar stool. “He’s been working for a commercial space company.”

Oddly Dmitri’s voice grew much softer. “What company?”

Knowing her brother, she could tell something was up. She frowned. “EarthOrbit.”

There was a brief silence. With a hint of panic in his voice, Dmitri asked, “What’s his job?”

“He oversees the astronaut training, why?”

While not responding to her question, Dmitri asked, “So he’s not one of their astronauts?”

“No, there was a chance he was going to fly on their current mission, but fortunately the astronaut he was going to replace recovered in time.”

Anya was getting a little fidgety as a few long beats of silence passed before her brother asked. “Have you heard what happened?”

Anya straightened in her seat. “No, what happened?”

“There was an explosion in space. We’ve been monitoring the situation.”

She tightened her grip around the phone as she fired back, “Is it EarthOrbit’s spacecraft?”

“We believe it is.”

Anya immediately thought back to her conversation with Peter on his early suspensions of a bomb being on board. He stated then that after further investigation, he was convinced there was no threat. She wondered if he was wrong. “Oh, my God. How bad is it?”

“Not sure, but another spacecraft was in the area, possibly to carry out a rescue.”

Her heart stopped. “What? Who’s rescuing them?”

“We know it’s not NASA. We believe its SpaceQuest.”

Anya went numb with shock. She was sure her lover was on that craft. “Do you know who’s on that ship?”

“It’s supposedly unmanned, and there has been no radio communication. However, we’ve observed some maneuvers that give us the impression someone is flying it.”

“When was the explosion?”

“Within the hour.”

She put her head down. “I’ll bet Peter’s on that rescue ship.”

A surprised tone echoed through the receiver. “You just told me he’s with EarthOrbit.”

Anya tried to steady herself. “He called me yesterday from an airplane and didn’t tell me where he was going. All he said was he was put on a new assignment and he would see me later in the week.”

Dmitri gave a reluctant sigh as he spoke the obvious. “Oh, he’s still working for the government.”

She traced her hand along the edge of the bar. “I know he’s up there trying to save his friends.”

“Anya, you don’t know that.”

Suddenly she realized she was being selfish. She needed to be strong, like her mom. “You’re right, I don’t. But I do know those EarthOrbit astronauts. I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, I’ll call you later if I learn anything more.”

“Please do.”

She quickly hung up and jumped off the barstool. Of the two astronauts’ wives, she only knew Suzy. Because of this relationship, she should hustle over to the young mother’s home to support her. She hoped to get there before Suzy learned of the explosion. Anya swiftly grabbed her car keys and headed for the door.

BOTH ASTRONAUTS WERE strapped tightly in their seats as they prepared Galileo for a rushed return flight home. After communications was established, the astronauts told mission control the grim news of Blake’s death. Peter had been informed that their ship had sustained damage from Iris’s explosion, requiring them to deviate from their normal flight plan for re-entry. Their mood was somber with very little talk between them. With their visors up, Peter could smell the distinct odor of space oozing off their suits. He was very familiar with the burnt metal stench hovering in the cabin.

Peter took a moment to look out his small window and reflect on his lost friend, asking himself what he could have done differently. Every option he came up with would still have put all three men at risk. He tried to convince himself he had made the right choice, but considering the outcome, he was having a hard time. To stop the battle in his head, he reflected on his memories of Blake, the jokester. A faint smile came to his face when he remembered Blake flying like a superhero down the zip line and how he got chastised for staying back to help. Buddy, I would have been proud to have been your sidekick.

A call from mission control in his headset brought Peter back to reality. He was surprised to recognize Allen’s voice. He answered in a low tone, “Roger, this is Galileo 2.”

The CEO spoke in a sympathetic voice. “Peter, I first want to say I’m so sorry about the loss of your friend. I know you did the best you could to save him.”

Peter didn’t say a word, especially since he questioned if he really had.

Allen’s voice became unmistakably clear; piercing in fact. “But we have another problem, and right now our number one priority is getting you two safely home.”

Peter snapped to attention. “What’s the problem?”

“Galileo sustained some additional damage from the explosion. We believe the landing system was hit by some debris from Iris.”

Frustrated he wasn’t getting the news fast enough, Peter barked, “What’s our specific problem?”

“From the warning lights we’ve been getting, it looks like Galileo may not deploy its drogue parachutes. We are still studying the problem.”

Peter was shocked. After all he and Jesse had been through, they could still be done in by the failure of their chutes. “What are the chances the main chutes will deploy?”

The radio went quiet. Peter waited impatiently. The backup landing system was a redundant number of main chutes. Of the three parachutes, Galileo could survive with just one. But if the smaller drogue chutes didn’t open first to slow their craft down, their speed would be too high to allow for any one of the larger parachutes to fully open. It would be anybody’s guess how fast Iris would be going when it hit the water.

Allen’s tremulous, disembodied voice replied, “Not good. I could sugarcoat it and tell you something different, but I figured you would want the truth.”

Peter appreciated the CEO’s honesty, even though it was heartbreaking to hear. “What are our chances of surviving?”

Again the radio was silent for a few seconds. The response was direct. “Less than 50 percent.”

Peter put his head down. “Roger.”

“Would you like to record a final message for your loved ones before re-entry?”

Peter looked at Jesse. He could see in the man’s eyes he didn’t want to accept this was the end, and neither did he. Peter answered in a firm and decisive voice. “Negative, we plan on seeing them again.” He quickly cut the mic.

Peter looked back out the window wondering if the whole mission had been a waste. Not only did he not save Blake, but it looked like both he and Jesse were goners too. Shit. Peter decided if he survived, this would be his last assignment. He had to, for Anya. He closed his eyes. Dear God, if it is your will to save Jesse and me, I promise to make changes.

29

RE-ENTRY

Peter wanted to walk on his home planet, to hold his lover once more, but there was only a slim chance that would ever happen again. Mission control had rushed them through the re-entry procedures, cutting out some of the steps. Amazingly their spacecraft hit every milestone perfectly as it flew through the dense atmosphere. Peter hoped the flawless re-entry was a sign everything would work out fine. Of course, that was wishful thinking as they approached the moment of truth. Around 23,000 feet the drogue parachutes were to open. If that didn’t happen, they were doomed.

He shaded his eyes from the bright sunlight as he looked out his window. He fought the continuous g-forces as his ship decelerated toward the massive blue marble below. The majestic Pacific Ocean peeked through the scattered, white clouds below. The large body of water was teasing him. Damn, we’re so close.

Mission control called out, “Galileo 2 approaching 23,400 feet; velocity 420 feet per second.”

If the landing went as planned, he should soon hear a minor bang followed by a slight tug indicating the small drogue chutes were deployed. He closed his eyes as he dedicated all of his senses toward recognizing the jolt. After a few anxious moments, he opened his eyes and registered their altitude was down to 22,500 feet. They had passed the point when the chutes should have been released and they were still flying like a bat out of hell. Shit. He looked over at Jesse, whose eyes were wide open with concern. Peter tried to show strength as he flashed a quick wink before radioing, “We’re at 22,500 feet and no sign of the drogue chutes, over.”

“Roger, Galileo.”

Peter waited, hoping mission control would respond with some miracle solution, but the radio stayed silent. Damn. The main parachutes were set to be released in roughly 30 seconds at approximately 10,000 feet. At the speed they were traveling, the main chutes wouldn’t fully deploy, and he could do nothing to change their dire situation. Though he was positive the main chutes would be released, the question was how much drag would they develop. Galileo’s designed splashdown velocity was 30 feet per second, around 20 miles per hour. If those chutes failed to open properly, their impact speed could be as high as 200 feet per second, sure death for both men. If only they were landing on land like the Chinese ships, at least then, there would be a slim chance of crashing through trees to break up their energy. Landing on water at those speeds would be the same as slamming onto concrete, only after impact the surface would open up and swallow them whole.

The radio crackled. “Galileo, what is your velocity?”

Peter responded in a fierce tone. “355 feet per second, over.”

“Roger.”

A bang confirmed the main parachutes were being deployed. Please, God, let them catch. A combination of light tugs in rapid succession followed by the ship going into a slight spin were signs the parachutes didn’t fully open. Shit. “Failure with main chutes.” Peter’s heart sank when he reported their velocity. “230 feet per second.”

“Roger.”

Peter was still waiting for some plan of attack from mission control. Their lack of response made it obvious they didn’t have one and neither did he. The ship was being tossed around under the struggling chutes. Peter steadied himself as he looked over at his partner. His voice was flat and emotionless. “We’re going to hit hard; brace yourself.”

Jesse’s tone was surprisingly clear and strong. “Roger. Let’s survive this crash.”

Peter liked the young man’s attitude. He took another look at their velocity. He was encouraged to see it dropping, but they were still falling way too fast. He figured they needed to be at less than 150 feet per second to have a shot.

Peter was surprised to hear a new voice squawk over the radio. “Galileo 2, this is the recovery ship. We have a visual; please tell us your splashdown error.”

Splash down error, are you serious? Peter let his emotions get the best of him as he yelled out. “We’re falling at over 100 miles per hour is our God-damn splashdown error, over.”

There was no response.

At the 1,500 foot level, and with only seconds left before impact, Peter took a final look at their velocity. A slight glimmer of hope shot through him seeing it had dropped to 162 feet per second. The one unknown was how much energy the spacecraft would absorb during impact. Even falling at six times faster than their intended splashdown speed, he convinced himself they could survive. Their fate was now in God’s hands. Facing skyward, Peter tightened the straps holding him down in his seat. He was prepared to be smashed painfully hard backward. His life was either over or he would completely change it. Either way, he was convinced this was his last mission. He quickly yelled out. “It was an honor flying with you, Jesse!”

“The honor was all mine, sir!”

ANYA SAT AT the small dining room table in Suzy’s house as the young mother brewed some tea. Anya’s excuse for visiting was to drop off presents for the boys, explaining it was a Russian tradition to give children gifts when their fathers were in space. She said it always seemed like Christmas every time her dad flew.

Anya looked outside the window and admired the boys playing. She settled in with easy conversation. “You have two wonderful boys.”

Suzy seemed unassuming and relaxed as she poured the tea. “Oh, thank you.” As she set the two cups on the table, she looked outside. “They sure are enjoying those presents. Thanks again. Now they’re going to be all excited the next time Blake flies.”

Anya reached for a cup as she tilted her head, lifting an eyebrow. “Weren’t they excited this time?”

Suzy spoke in a gentle tone as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Brian was okay with it, but Matthew was scared. Surprisingly, he seemed to grasp what his father was doing. In fact, it was so cute the last thing he communicated to Blake. Matthew signed, Don’t die, Daddy, I don’t want another daddy. I could see Blake was caught off guard by his fears, but then he knelt down and put his arm around Matthew, promising he would be back. He then pointed to Matthew’s heart and said a part of Daddy would always be right there, even when he was in space. It was such a sweet and touching moment.”

Anya turned back toward the window. Suzy’s words had touched her heart. She closed her face down like a gate slamming shut. Though she had no idea what was going on in space, she still had to make sure she didn’t give away any sign she knew anything. She prayed Blake was okay as she pretended to be watching the boys.

Suzy asked, “Is everything all right?”

Stay strong, Anya. She took a deep breath before turning back with a consoling smile. “Yes. That is a touching story.”

Suzy sprang up. “How rude of me, I should have gotten us something to snack on.”

Anya raised her hand as she emphatically shook her head. “Please don’t go to any trouble.”

Suzy marched over to the counter. “Oh, it’s no trouble. I baked some cookies last night with the boys.” When she was halfway across the kitchen, the phone rang. “Excuse me.” She did a 90-degree turn and aimed for the sound. As she answered, she looked to the floor with a slight smile.

Anya studied the young woman’s face to see if this was the call. For a few moments, there was no change in Suzy’s expression as she just listened. Soon her smile gave way as disappointment etched steadily across her face. This was the call. Finally, the mother spoke to the caller. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” When she hung up, she dropped her head.

Anya innocently asked. “Who was that?”

“EarthOrbit. They had to cut the mission short and asked me to hustle over to Hobby Airport. Apparently, the men are coming home today. EarthOrbit wants to fly me over to the recovery ship.”

Anya let out a big sigh, sure that this meant both men were returning.

Suzy looked outside at her children. She spoke with a hint of alarm in her voice. “It’s kind of odd they’re flying me to the recovery ship. That was never in the plans, and they asked me not to bring the kids.”

Those comments made Anya nervous. She swallowed hard as she kept her demeanor steady. “I’m sure they’re doing it just because they’re cutting the assignment short. Maybe Blake asked for you. Anyway, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Suzy flashed a grim smile.

Anya offered, “I can watch the boys if you would like?”

Suzy gave an appreciative nod. “Thanks, but I’ll have my mother come over.” As she reached for the phone, she suddenly stopped and turned toward Anya. She bit her lower lip for a moment before asking, “Would you mind going with me? I could use the support. Besides, with Peter as part of the team, I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Anya rose from her chair. She would love to escort the young mother. Plus, being on the ship would allow her to learn if Peter was involved. “Sure, I would be more than happy to.”

MING WAS SURPRISED to see his boss’s door shut. Though it was not an uncommon sight during most days, Kuang had purposely left his door wide open lately so he could be given quick updates on what was happening in space. Ming assumed Kuang was probably on a private call. He took a moment to ponder if he should interrupt. Since his boss had insisted on being informed on the latest developments, Ming was sure the news of the Americans landing in the Pacific warranted being told immediately.

The assistant director lightly knocked on the wooden door. He listened intently for a response. Nothing. Ming tried again, this time knocking harder. Again nothing. Convinced his boss was on an important phone call, Ming cautiously opened the door. Because he had not been invited in, he bowed his head as he entered.

Looking at the floor, Ming was surprised he did not hear a sound. “Sir, I have an important update.” He stopped all movement as he waited for his boss to answer. After a long beat, Ming gradually lifted his head. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of Kuang hunched over his desk, his head turned sideways with his arms sprawled out. Ming stood stunned. He saw no movement. He approached guardedly. Kuang’s lifeless eyes were wide open with a blank stare aiming directly at him. Ming tried to process the grim sight. Soon he stood over the desk and saw the bottom side of his boss’s face soaking in a puddle of blood. Ming cautiously placed two fingers on the director’s neck to check for a pulse. As he struggled to get a reading, a handgun lying on the floor next to the desk confirmed his suspicions. After a few moments, it was obvious his mentor was dead. Ming gently closed the dead man’s eyes before softly placing a hand on Kuang’s head. He bowed to say a short prayer for the disgraced leader.

PETER’S MIND WAS floating in a big fog. Where the hell am I? He was going in and out of consciousness as he tried to focus on his surroundings. He felt like a big blob of Jell-O lying in a bed. He was having a difficult time moving any part of his body. He took a few minutes to grasp his situation. As he struggled to clear his head, he saw a man in a military uniform with a stethoscope around his neck standing over him. The man appeared to be talking, but all he heard were muffled sounds. Come on, Peter, wake up.

He looked away as he tried to recall what had happened. He closed his eyes. Bit by bit he started to remember the mission. Then it hit him—he and Jesse had crashed in the Pacific. The man standing over him must be a doctor. His first impulse was to try to find out if his friend had survived. He turned to the man and tried to ask, but nothing came out of his mouth.

The sound of the doctor’s genial voice began to break through Peter’s haze. “Don’t strain yourself, young man. You’re lucky to be alive.” The man turned away. “Nurse, get him some water.”

Hearing the word water made Peter realize his mouth was bone dry. He circled the outside of his mouth with his dry tongue, feeling the rough edges of his chapped lips. The doctor grabbed a cup with a straw from the nurse. He bent down and gently slipped the straw into Peter’s mouth. The first few sips burned flowing down his parched throat. He was starting to get his bearings. He tried again to talk, hoping his words wouldn’t come out gibberish. “How umm Jesse?”

The man looked dumbfounded for a second before he let out a big sigh. “Oh, how’s your partner? He’s fine. He’s banged up too. You two are a couple of lucky sons of guns. Someone up there likes you two. So how do you feel?”

Peter was relieved to hear that Jesse had made it. He tried to move his arms, but found he was having trouble. Obviously he was heavily drugged, yet still in a lot of pain. “I feel like I was hit by a wrecking ball.”

The man chuckled. “That’s a good description. Your body did experience something like that. You sustained some serious internal bleeding caused by the blunt force trauma your body has been through. In fact, blood had stopped flowing to your left leg due to the pressure buildup from the bleeding. I was forced to do a deep cut in your thigh to relieve the pressure before I was able to stop the internal bleeding. The good news is you should be okay; the bad news is you have a couple of tough weeks ahead of you.”

Peter cleared his throat as he looked around. “So where am I?”

“You’re in the infirmary of the LaGrange, the Navy ship that picked you two up. You’ve been out for awhile.”

Peter’s head was clearing by the minute. He assumed SpaceQuest couldn’t get their recovery ship to their location. He tried to sit up before the doctor put his hand on his shoulder. “Son, you don’t want to do too much. Remember you just had surgery.”

Peter relaxed as he let his head fall back on the pillow.

A slow grin began to emerge on the doctor’s face. “I have someone here who would love to see you.”

“Who?”

The doctor stepped back and motioned for someone to approach. All the pain miraculously disappeared when Anya stepped into the light, her face beaming with a joyous smile. She looked like an enchanted angel floating toward him. He thanked God once again for another chance at life as she leaned down toward him. The familiar scent of her coconut body lotion empowered him to slightly raise his head to kiss her soft lips. She cooed, “Thanks for sticking around.”

Peter dropped his head as he remembered his promise to God. “Baby, I don’t plan on going anywhere. You mean too much to me. In fact, I’ve decided to make some changes. I don’t want you worrying about me anymore.”

Anya rose with a twinkle in her eye. She caressed his hand. “I appreciate that, but we don’t need to make any hasty decisions.”

EVER SINCE THE small infirmary had cleared out, Anya had been holding Peter’s hand. It was one of those simple moments in life he was pleased to be experiencing. He was savoring every minute as he stared at his soul mate. He had no opportunity to mull over Blake’s death; Anya consistently kept steering their conversation toward easier ground. Though he was still groggy and tired, he appreciated the light talk.

One subject she talked passionately about was their wedding plans. She was giddy with excitement when describing the latest details. He was delighted to see her happy, and more importantly, glad he was going to be around to participate.

During a lull in the conversation, he stared up at the ceiling. In his mind, the mission had still been a failure. His heart ached for Suzy knowing she had probably been informed of her husband’s death. He wished he could have been there when she was told, comforting her with Blake’s last words before the hatch was closed. He convinced himself the first thing he needed to do when he returned to Houston was to visit her.

Peter’s concentration was broken by the sound of the door opening. “How’s the astronaut doing?”

Peter turned to see the doctor entering with a small, blue duffle bag in his hand. “Hanging in there.”

The doctor did a quick scan of the monitors before stationing himself on the opposite side from Anya. “Good. How’s the pain?”

“Bearable.”

“Let the nurse know if it becomes unbearable.” The doctor then passed the duffle bag over to Anya as he kept his eye on Peter. “I was asked to give this to you. It’s your personal items found in the spacecraft.”

Peter was curious what exactly was in the bag as he watched Anya set it in her lap. “Thanks.”

The doctor patted him on the shoulder. “Make sure you take it easy. If you need anything, just push the call button.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

As the doctor left, Peter turned to see Anya pulling out her picture from the bag.

She wore a blushing grin as she eyed the photo. “So you took me along?”

Peter tenderly responded, “You’ve been with me on every space flight. You’re my good luck charm.”

Her smile grew larger. She then reached in and pulled out Matthew’s toy plane. “What’s this?”

Peter’s heart sank at the sight of the toy. Though it reminded him of Blake’s death, it also reminded him of the smile on the father’s face when he received it. “Is there a spacesuit glove in there?”

Anya searched through the bag. “I don’t see it, why?”

“When I went to the spacecraft after the explosion, I found his glove floating with that toy attached.” Peter took a deep breath as he looked back up at the ceiling. He took a moment before turning back toward her. “That was the final confirmation Blake was dead. That toy is Matthew’s. I gave it to Blake as we were strapping him in prior to launch.”

Her voice trembled with sadness. “Oh.”

“I want to make sure Suzy gets both.”

Anya’s voice rose. “Oh, she’s here. You can give this to her now if you want.”

Shocked by the news, Peter jerked his head up painfully. “She’s here?”

Anya nodded as she compressed her lips. “Yeah, in fact that’s why I’m here. After I learned about the explosion from Dmitri, I went over to her house to offer support. When she got the call to fly to the ship, she asked if I’d accompany her.”

Peter assumed Allen flew her out. “Where is she now?”

Anya gave a modest shrug. “Not sure. I was with her in the ship’s chapel when I learned you were starting to wake. She could still be there. You want me to go check?”

“So she knows Blake didn’t survive?”

“Yes, I was there when she was told.” Anya looked to the floor as she shook her head. “It was devastating. I held her in my arms as she cried.”

Peter fought through the pain as he forced himself up, yanking out the wires and tubes connected to his arm. Instantly the sound of alarms filled the small room.

Anya frantically raised her eyes as she cried out over the screeching noise, “What are you doing? You know the doctor told you to stay in bed.”

Peter was determined. “I’ve got to see her. Those men were my responsibility.”

Anya put her hand on him. “Stay here, I can go get her.”

Peter was not wavering. “No, I want to go to her.”

A nurse came running in. She quickly determined the cause of the alarms and growled, “What are you doing?” She quickly flipped a couple of switches, cutting off the obnoxious sounds before pushing Peter back down onto his pillow.

Not having the strength to fight, he gripped her hand and looked her directly in the eyes. “Sorry, but I just learned the wife of my friend who I was unable to save is on this ship. I must see her.”

The nurse grabbed at the loose wires, preparing to reattach them. She answered in a frank tone, “You need to stay here. We can bring her to you.”

Anya stepped between the two and gently put her hand on the nurse’s shoulder. Her voice was surprisingly fierce. “Clair, this is very important to Peter. I know he should have contacted you before disconnecting himself; we’re very sorry about that. But a man died on his watch and he wants to personally give his condolences to his wife.” She leaned in, whispering loud enough so Peter could hear. “I’m sure you can understand why he would want to go to her, and not have her come to him.” She straightened back up and resumed her original tone. “She is in the chapel. I can wheel him over in a wheelchair and have him back in a jiffy.”

The nurse looked down at Peter. He flashed a pleading expression as she studied his face. “I couldn’t do this if we were on land.” She turned to Anya. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

Anya soon had Peter wheeled up to the small chapel’s entrance. Suzy was sitting alone in the front pew in the dim room.

Anya whispered. “Do you want me to push you in?”

In a hushed but direct tone he answered, “No, I need to do this alone. Please help me up. I want to walk in.”

“Honey, you should stay in the chair.”

Peter gave her that look.

Anya positioned the chair and locked the wheels so he could get up. “Okay, but you sure are being stubborn.”

With her help, Peter used all of his strength to get out of the chair. He had an extra tough time moving his left leg, feeling the pain shoot throughout his body with each change in its position. Once he was standing, he reached for the open door handle to steady himself. He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “I’ll be okay.”

She pointed down the hallway. “I’ll be standing right over there, waiting. Just call out if you need me.”

He flashed a quick wink before reaching for the doorframe, struggling to hold on to steady himself. He patted his robe pocket to ensure he had Matthew’s toy before taking a few painful steps into the small chapel up to the back pew. With only three rows of pews, Suzy was only a few feet away. Her blonde hair glowed lightly from a soft spotlight aimed down on the multi-colored stained glass window pane at the front of the room. As he resumed his movements, the sounds caused Suzy to turn. Her face was blotchy, eyes red and puffy from crying. She instantly recognized him. She solemnly stood and reached her arms out toward him.

Supporting himself with one hand on the pew, he reached for her with the other. As they embraced he softly said, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

She pulled away a little, a tear running down her cheek. “You did everything you could to save Blake. Jesse told me how you risked your life for them.” She took a deep breath. “Jesse feels guilty he wasn’t on that ship when the explosion happened. But because Blake was the one scheduled to do the spacewalk, he didn’t have the connection for the oxygen pack.” She fell silent for a moment as she looked toward the stained glass. “I guess it was his time.”

Peter put his hand on her shoulder. “I feel like I let him down. That I let you down.”

She turned with a stern look. “Don’t you ever think that. Thanks to you, he had a fighting chance. You were willing to lose everything for them. I will always hold that dear in my heart.” She put her head down. “I blame EarthOrbit for putting Blake in a faulty spacecraft.”

Peter wanted to tell her the cause of the accident but couldn’t.

Suzy grabbed his hand. “Blake looked up to you. He was constantly talking about your moon mission, especially when you two were training together. He was looking forward to flying with you.”

Peter lifted his head as he looked directly into her eyes. “He was a great man, with a good soul.”

She bit her lower lip. “Blake told me you were going to strap them in before launch. Did you?”

With a bleak smile Peter tried to stay strong as he answered, “I did. They were both so excited and ready. Just before the hatch was closed, Blake did ask me to tell you something.”

A ray of hope appeared on her face. “What?”

Peter took a deep breath as he took a moment to look at the stained glass. He turned back. “He wanted me to tell you he was thinking of you and how much he loved you.”

She tilted her head slightly as another tear started to trickle down her face. “Really?”

Peter put his hand on her shoulder. “Yes, but I told him he could tell you that himself when he returned.”

She looked away as she brought a tissue to her face, lightly dabbing her eyes.

Peter removed his hand and reached into his pocket. “You remember the toy plane you gave me?”

Suzy turned and answered with sadness in her voice. “Yes.”

Peter took her hand and placed the plane in the center, closing her fingers around it. “This was with Blake up to the moment he died. While I was rescuing Jesse, he took the time to attach it to his glove, showing how much his family meant to him, that he was thinking of all of you up to the last minute.”

Suzy lightly caressed the toy and fought back more tears. Peter bent down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before turning to walk out.

As he wrestled with the difficulties of leaving, he heard her muster up the strength to call out. “You’re a good man, Peter Novak. Thank you.”

30

WRAP UP

Clumsily struggling with his crutches, Peter waddled down the final corridor to his boss’s office. Gavin had asked him to report to CIA headquarters for a debriefing once he was able to travel. While recuperating, Peter had spent the last two weeks debating over what he should do with his career. Though he loved the excitement involved with SID, he made a promise to God, himself, and Anya that he would make a change. He figured his only option was to quit. As he approached the last corner, he peered playfully around at Lola’s desk. The sexy grandmother had her head buried in paperwork, unaware of his presence.

Disappointed on not getting a reaction, he worked his way toward the executive assistant. The sound of his crutches hitting the floor finally caused Lola to look up. She instantly took off her glasses, her eyes glowing with joy. A bright smile replaced her stale business look as she swiveled her chair around. Peter couldn’t help stealing a discreet glance at her athletic legs as she seemed to flash them before standing. His eyes did a slow journey up her short purple dress showing off her curves. He was always impressed the grandmother was never shy to flaunt her body. Her voice came out in a conspiratorial whisper. “Hello, Peter Pan.”

Peter arched an eyebrow as he approached. “Peter Pan?”

She answered with a little giggle. “Well you have been flying so much I, figured we should start calling you Agent Peter Pan. So how are you?”

Out of breath, he stalled at the end of her desk. “I’m doing better. The doctor said I’m going to live.”

“Good.” Lola circled her desk with her arms spread out. “Do you need any help?”

Peter figured he probably looked like an idiot. “No, I’m fine. Of course by the time I figure these things out,” he said, indicating his crutches, “I probably won’t need them anymore.”

“That’s usually how it works.” She leaned in to give him a hug. “You have to stop risking your life. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

He bent down and planted a soft kiss in her hair. “Love you too, Lola. Unfortunately, Gavin tells you too much.” As she looked up, he flashed a mischievous grin. “Of course I appreciate hearing that from such a sexy lady.”

She stepped back. “That’s my Peter. Can I get you some coffee?”

He figured he would probably spill it. “No, thanks. I think I’ll pass.”

She grabbed his hand as her eyes softened. A hint of sincerity mixed into her voice. “I’m glad you’re back.” She abruptly let go and motioned toward Gavin’s office door, her voice rising. “The boss is expecting you.”

He gave her a wink before resuming his struggles toward the doorway. He did a soft knock as he entered.

The director looked up with a faint grin. “There he is, our own Superman.”

Peter took the title as a compliment as he worked his way across the office. “Hey, Boss.”

Gavin vaulted up and extended his hand, patiently waiting for Peter to approach. Once positioned, Peter settled his full weight on top of the crutches’ padding to steady himself before shaking his boss’s hand.

“Looks like you got a little beat up.”

“A little.” Peter gently set the crutches against the desk before falling into the comfortable chair, exhausted from the long haul.

His boss sat before placing his arms on the desk. “Once again, you did a hell of a job out there. With all of your space experience, you’re becoming a valuable asset to this agency.”

Peter curled in his lips. A tinge of guilt tugged at him knowing he would be giving his notice. “Thanks, Boss.”

“Because of your long list of heroics, the President has offered to meet you on your time. You call the shot when.”

Peter was pleased Anya was going to get to wear her red dress for its intended purpose. He motioned toward his crutches. “Great, I think I’ll hold off until I get rid of those damn things.”

“No problem; you just tell me when.” Gavin flipped open the file in front of him.

Exhaling a deep breath, Peter leaned in. “So have we figured out what China was up to?”

Gavin leaned back as he crossed his arms. “Well, the specifics are above my pay grade. But it sounds like China was using EarthOrbit as a front to steal U.S. space technologies to eventually set up space-based offensive systems. Part of their overall plan looked to first discredit our space program before eventually ruling space.”

Peter shot him an astounded look.

Without blinking, his boss answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “Yep, a scary thought, huh? But thanks to you, that won’t be happening.” Gavin paused for a moment. “We also learned they were involved in the explosion on the Soyuz. Apparently they were testing their detonation system with the hopes of also grounding the Russian spacecraft. Thanks to its spherical design, the spacecraft was able to withstand much of the external explosion.”

Peter was stunned. “I can’t believe China was able to sneak that device onto a Soyuz.”

“Considering the state of the Russian program and its economy, I’m not surprised, especially when you consider the spectacular failure of the Proton rocket recently due to a part being carelessly installed backward. It wouldn’t take much to bribe a worker at Baikonur.”

Disappointed, Peter asked, “Have we informed the Russians?”

“Yes, they were shocked to hear the news and question if we have our facts right. They are going to do their own internal investigation.”

Peter planned on discussing the specifics with Dmitri later.

“You should be aware the President wants this kept secret, as well as the fact that China was behind the explosion on Iris. We want to continue with the ruse that the explosions were due to faulty spacecrafts.”

Peter unlocked his arms in surprise, mystified by the President’s action. “Why? A man died up there.”

Gavin looked unnerved and his voice remained steady, coming across in a reassuring tone. “I know. But right now we don’t want to alarm China. We plan on going through EarthOrbit’s list of contractors to try and flush out more Chinese operatives. After we have turned over every stone, we’ll then present our findings and the President will take the appropriate action.”

“Okay, good. So was Walter China’s inside man at EarthOrbit?”

“No, it turns out the owner of EarthOrbit was. He hid behind a camouflage of companies and is of Chinese heritage. It looks like China was financing the whole operation. The president of the company appears to have been merely a puppet for the owner, doing as he was told. Walter Goings was unaware of the bomb on Iris.”

Peter was glad the president was innocent. “What about the shop manager, Carl Stewart, any idea how he died?”

“He was poisoned, and two suspects were arrested.”

Peter shook his head as he lowered his eyes. “Did they have a link to China?”

“One did. He looked to be working undercover for China’s secret service.”

Peter looked up. “Carl was a good man. Thanks to him, we learned of the bomb, which ultimately saved the International Space Station. We need to make sure his family is taken care of.”

Gavin nodded with determination in his eyes, “I’ll make that happen.”

Curious about Chris’s involvement, Peter asked, “How about Chris Riddick?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but the old man looks to be clean, though as you know he has a serious addiction to gambling.” Gavin leaned over with a sly smirk. “I hear you beat the shit out of him.”

Peter fought the impulse to berate the man as he rolled his eyes. “I hit him a few times. I wanted to stop, but he seemed to be enjoying it.”

Gavin fell back laughing. “I’m sure someone enjoyed it.”

Peter just smiled and folded his arms. “How about EarthOrbit, will the company still exist?”

“That’s a good question. Don’t know, but I hear our government might take over ownership.”

Peter hoped that would happen and eventually the government would sell it to a private enterprise. He saw many advantages in having a commercial spaceport in the country. “What about my request on setting up college funds for Blake’s boys?”

“Approved! They will be able to attend any public college in Texas, free of charge.”

That was a relief. “Great, thanks.”

Gavin laced his fingers together on his stomach as he directed an intrigued look Peter’s way. “Before we get into too much detail on your mission, I wanted to run something by you.”

Uh oh, here it goes. Peter sat up in his chair, expecting his boss to bring up another assignment. He had made up his mind, no matter what, he would turn it down. Since this would be a first, he was sure it would lead to telling Gavin he was done.

“How would you like my job?”

Peter’s jaw dropped as the words hung in the air for a moment. “What? Where are you going?”

“With the success of the agency, Jack has decided to run for public office, and I was given his job. We discussed it and agreed you’d be the perfect man to lead SID.”

Peter was caught off guard. He hadn’t even thought of the possibility of doing a desk job for the agency. If he took the position, he and Anya would have to move to Virginia. He rubbed his chin for a moment. “Thanks, Gavin, I feel honored. I’m definitely interested, but I need to first run it by my fiancée.”

Gavin shook his head as a lopsided smirk began to creep across his face. “I still can’t believe you’re getting married. I used to live out my fantasies through you. I understand; let me know what you two decide.”

A grin fell on Peter’s face as he stared out the window.

ONE YEAR LATER

FOR THE FIRST time, Anya’s expression reminded Peter of her father. He studied her face, wondering what the connection was. Then it hit him, the unique wrinkle on her forehead, which he had never seen before. The few times he ever saw the brave cosmonaut with a similar wrinkled brow, he was straining and deeply focused, just as Anya was now.

Peter was losing all circulation in his hand due to his wife squeezing it so tightly. Blood was starting to become visible due to her fingernails digging deep into his skin. He simply accepted the nuisance considering the intense pain she was going through with every contraction. He thought she was crazy, requesting to deliver their child naturally. With all the drugs out there, he tried to convince her otherwise. She showed how she could be stubborn too, flatly rejecting an epidural. No matter what Peter said, she was not having it. Even when she described the labor pains as feeling like someone was reaching inside and trying to rip out every single organ, she never relented. She insisted that the rest between each contraction was enough to sustain her. She wanted to feel her body giving birth like her mother had. He was proud she stuck to her guns.

Although Peter had participated in all the birthing classes, he never really took them seriously. He was so sure his wife would opt for drugs. Due to his lack of attentiveness in class, he was screwing up their breathing exercises. He looked at her with a pleading expression as if to say, “What should I do?” Through the excruciating pain, Anya looked almost amused as she gave him an understanding nod before she closed her eyes and seemed to go off to a better place in her mind. She simply surrendered and accepted the pain, which appeared to make it more bearable. He just stared in awe, impressed.

After hours of intense labor pains, Anya was about to reward both of them with the miracle of life. The question was would it be a boy or girl? Anya was adamant on not knowing their child’s sex until delivery. Though Peter had a few opportunities to find out, he decided to wait and be in the dark with her. Of course, this made decorating the baby’s room a challenge.

The doctor announced the head had crested and the labor nurse barked to keep pushing. Anya’s breathing increased as she knuckled down, the wrinkle still visible on her forehead. She took in one final deep breath before looking directly at Peter. With determination in her eyes and a sheer force of will, she gave another hard push. “Uggg.”

Peter’s palms were sweating as he tried to cheer her on. “Come on, baby, you can do it.” He didn’t look to see what was happening, but could tell the nurses and doctor were busy.

Finally the doctor called out, “It’s a boy!”

Anya collapsed backward in the bed from exhaustion, pale and shaking. She instinctively grabbed hold of the squirmy infant the doctor had plopped onto her belly. Now that Peter’s hands were free, he quickly grabbed a damp towel and leaned over to dab the sweat off her forehead. “Good job, honey.”

Still breathing heavily and gently holding her baby, she turned and locked eyes with Peter. She spoke in a silky calm whisper, “Maybe I’ll use drugs next time.”

Peter chuckled as the baby cried. “Good idea.”

The soft voice of the nurse asked, “So, Father, would like you to cut the umbilical cord?”

Peter’s smile widened hearing his new title. He answered proudly, “Absolutely, I have to do something to help bring my boy into this world.” He was handed a small pair of metal scissors. He focused on his son, who was flushed, pink all over with a good deal of dark hair. Peter smiled big as he humbly cut the cord before leaning back toward Anya, who had a glow about her. “He’s beautiful.”

A broad smile crossed her lips. Tears of joy and exhaustion streaked her face.

Soon it was visiting hours and friends were coming and going. The nurse had suggested keeping the baby in the nursery to make sure no infections were passed. Anya had freshened up and was sitting in the bed. Peter’s mom had volunteered to be the escort to whoever wanted to view the little boy. She was practically giddy with excitement after finally becoming a grandmother.

A name for the boy had not been decided. Since its sex was unknown until birth, neither had put much effort into coming up with a name. Anya had mentioned if she had a boy she liked the name “Paul” because of St. Paul, but nothing was ever settled. With the room finally quiet, Peter decided it was time to make a decision. As he was about to ask, a soft knock on the door interrupted him.

Peter called out, “Come in.”

Jesse poked his head in. “Am I disturbing anything?”

Sensing his SID agent was apprehensive about entering, Peter reassured Jesse by waving him in. “Not at all, Jesse, come on in.”

Jesse slowly opened the door before entering with flowers and a big, white teddy bear with a big pink bow on its head. “Sorry I’m coming around late. It was tough getting out of the office. So how’s the mother doing?”

Anya straightened up slightly. “I’m doing great. Thanks, Jesse.”

Jesse lifted up the gifts. “Well, here is a little something for you and the little tyke from the agency.”

Anya cooed. “Oh, how sweet. Thanks.”

Peter got up. “I’ll take those, buddy.”

Jesse looked at his boss with a sly expression. “Lola wanted me to point out that she picked out the teddy bear, and purposely picked a girl one. She figured if you ended up having a boy, the little guy would probably have a little of you in him.”

Both Anya and Peter laughed as he set the gifts with the others.

After some light conversation, Jesse wanted to discuss business. “Peter, you got a call from Tang. I went ahead and took it. He wanted to let you know he was able to get Ying’s husband a job at CNSA.”

Peter appreciated Tang taking care of his request. After the taikonaut retired from space travel, he too was promoted to a desk job, Manager of Space Operations. Peter asked his friend if he would help out the young mother. Her family would be more accepted in Beijing, where it was not uncommon to have more than two kids in a family. He was sure Sie Wang had something to do with it since he made most of the decisions for the agency after taking over after Kuang’s death. The former CNSA manager was found innocent of any crimes and reinstated to the agency with honors. His placement had been part of the organization’s makeover after the cause of the space accidents were made public. CNSA and their programs had become much more transparent to the world since Sie had taken over.

Finally, the room was quiet. Visiting hours had ended and the two of them were alone with their baby. Anya looked dead tired. Her eyes were closed, the baby sleeping peacefully on her chest. Peter took a moment to take in the beautiful sight, spinning his wedding band on his finger. He couldn’t believe he was looking at his family. A joyous feeling overtook him, convinced he had finally cracked the code of life. He leaned in close and whispered in Anya’s ear. “We need to name our little boy.”

Anya gradually opened her eyes. “Yes, we do. Any ideas?”

“Well, I like Paul, but during your labor I felt there was only one name that would work for my boy.”

Anya straightened up a little, her eyes opening wider. “And what name is that?”

Peter lightly stroked his boy’s head as he proudly proclaimed, “Viktor.”

Her blue eyes sparkled with the suggestion. “Aw, are you sure?”

He leaned over and pushed her dark bangs out of her eyes. “Absolutely.”

She lifted her sleeping child so his face was toward her, carefully supporting his head. “What do you think? You want to be named after your grandfather?” She brought the baby back to her chest. “I love it. However, I want one change.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“His middle name has to be Thomas.”

Peter grinned. “Viktor Thomas Novak. I like it, sounds strong.”

“It does.”

“With a name like that and his heritage, he’ll probably be the first man on Mars.”

Anya reached over and patted his arm. “Slow down, honey. Let’s first worry about getting him out of kindergarten.”

Peter leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. “Deal.”

The Hoax Trilogy

Copyright

All characters in this book, with the exception of Yuri Gagarin, are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The names, incidents, dialogue, and opinions expressed are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Nothing is intended or should be interpreted as expressing or representing the views of the CIA, NASA, CNSA or any other department or agency of any government body.

SPACE HOAX

Copyright 2014 by Paul Gillebaard.

2016 revised edition for Hoax Trilogy.

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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ISBN: 978-0-983-95612-9

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Content

Paul Gillebaard
SPACE HOAX
A SEQUEL TO MOON HOAX

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

1 TO THE EARTH

2 HANG ON

3 THE LIE

4 GETTING HOME

5 BACK IN THE FIRE

6 BAIKONUR COSMODROME

7 “SAVE US!”

8 IT’S TIME

9 CRAZY FOOL

10 ABOUT TIME

11 REASSIGNMENT

12 EARTHORBIT

13 INITIATE FINAL PHASE

14 ALL IN

15 MOVING FORWARD

16 STEP UP

17 BLAKE HAMILTON

18 FINAL APPROVAL

19 THE CHANGE

20 SPACEPORT

21 MOOT ISSUE

22 STARTLING NEWS

23 CONFRONTATION

24 LEARJET

25 LAUNCH

26 GUESS WHO?

27 “NO!”

28 SURVIVE

29 RE-ENTRY

30 WRAP UP

The Hoax Trilogy

Copyright

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