USSR Hoax (Hoax Trilogy Book 3)

by Paul Gillebaard

  Virginia chimed in, “Yeah, and you can tell Mr. Superstar to go make his own.”

  Anne appreciated the two trying to comfort her.

  Others came up to Anne, offering toasts and passing on their congratulations. She showed an excited composure as she hugged them all. After a while, she wondered where Peter was. She wanted to give her son a hug. She set out on a lone search for the boy. Unable to locate him in the house, she opened the back sliding glass door and popped her head outside. There sat Peter in the middle of the yard, his back to her, Dino obediently lying by his side. The boy petted his dog as he stared up into the early night sky.

  “There you are.” Anne peeked up in the direction Peter was looking and saw the faint moon. She looked back at her son and crossed to him. “Peter, what are you doing?”

  Peter spoke in a determined voice as he kept staring skyward. “I’m trying to see Daddy on the moon.”

  The innocent and adorable comment touched Anne’s heart. A single tear welled up in her eye. She sat on the ground next to her son, her leg touching his. She looked up at the moon. “Have you found him yet?”

  “Not yet, Mommy. Can you help me?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  TOM WAS HELPING Dusty put on his Portable Life Support System in preparation for their first moonwalk. The PLSS backpack was practically half as big as the astronauts, and getting it positioned on Dusty’s back within the cramped cabin was tricky. With close to a hundred hours training in the LM simulator, both men knew how to move around expertly without knocking into controls or each other. But during all that training, Tom never had the two-inch-wide metal cylinder in his front leg pocket. That bulge was just enough to cause him to change his routine slightly, forcing him to stand in a different position. It also reminded him of the covert operation he was a part of. He quickly put the thought out of his mind. His focus was on the lunar EVA coming up. There would be plenty of time the night before the third and final spacewalk to review how he was going to snatch the lunar material.

  With their spacesuits still connected to the spacecraft’s cooling system, Tom’s suit was starting to get cold inside. “Damn, I’m freezing my ass off.”

  Dusty laughed. “Me too.”

  The sound of mission control suddenly filled the cabin. “Explorer, Houston. We copy that.”

  David was now the CAPCOM to support the men on their lunar EVA. Tom was caught off guard by his friend’s response. He stopped for a moment wondering if the entire world just heard his comment. “What did you say?”

  “Roger. We are just noting your hot mike.”

  Tom almost cursed again when he heard that he had forgotten to shut off their transmission back to Earth. “Roger, Houston.” He switched off the voice-activated radio in frustration. “So much for a ‘G-rated’ mission.”

  Dusty chuckled as Tom went back to work.

  “So, Tom, any idea what you’re going to say when you first step on the moon?”

  Tom smiled at the question. He looked out at the spectacular backdrop outside his window. “Who cares what I have to say? I’m not the first, the second, or even the third man to step on the moon. I’m the ninth, and nobody cares what the ninth man has to say, especially history.”

  “Your family will.”

  “Maybe, but that’s about it.”

  “Of course, you could shock the world.”

  With the backpack in place, Tom jostled around in front of Dusty to help hook up his partner’s hoses. Tom looked up at his LMP. “And how do I do that?”

  Dusty said with a sly grin, “Tell them what you told me, that there are tiny green men running all around.”

  Tom laughed. “Not sure Dick will go for that.”

  “Perhaps, but it will get a lot of press and probably go down in history.”

  “Yeah, as the stupidest statement ever made. I think I’ll stick with something less shocking.”

  ANNE WAS PLEASED to see a news break on the television announcing that the Apollo 16 astronauts would be shown live disembarking from the spacecraft in approximately thirty minutes. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder and turned to see Joan holding a glass of wine.

  “Would you like me to go upstairs and get Peter?”

  “Thanks, Joan, but I promised I would wake him.” Anne excused herself and made her way through the excited crowd. Hank stood at the foot of the stairs.

  “Off to get my grandson?”

  “I am.”

  “Need any help?”

  “Thanks, but I got it.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll wait right here, and if you’d like, I’d be more than happy to watch over him.”

  Anne smiled. “That would be great. Thanks, Hank.” Knowing Peter was so afraid he was going to miss out on the big event, Anne wondered, as she climbed the steps, if her son had been able to get any sleep. When she approached Peter’s room, her suspicions were answered when she heard sheets rustling through the cracked-open doorway. As she gradually opened the door, the hall light inched across the bedroom floor.

  Once the glow reached Peter’s bed, the boy shot straight up. “Is it time, Mommy?”

  With a big grin, Anne flipped on the light. “Sweetheart, you were supposed to be asleep.” She crossed the room and sat on the bed next to her beaming son.

  Peter’s hair was a mess. “I can’t sleep, Mom, I’m too excited.”

  Anne tried to groom the boy’s hair with her hand. “I understand, dear. I’m excited too. Well…it’s time. Your dad will soon be walking on the moon. So let’s get you out of bed and downstairs with the others.”

  Peter hopped out of bed and was at the door before Anne could even get up. The eager boy started bouncing on his feet waiting for Anne. She took Peter’s hand and proudly escorted the boy downstairs to his waiting Opa.

  “HEY, TOM, HURRY UP!”

  Considering Tom had just exited the spacecraft, he had to smile at Dusty’s impatience. His LMP couldn’t leave the ship until Tom was safely down the ladder and on the moon. “I’m hustling.”

  After crawling out backward through the small hatch, Tom was currently on all fours on the Lunar Module “porch.” He reached over and pulled the release cord to deploy the cover of the equipment stowage. He watched the bay door slowly swing down toward the lunar surface. “Houston, MESA is released.”

  David answered calmly from mission control, “Excellent, Tom.”

  Using the low porch railings to guide him, Tom cautiously shimmied backwards on his hands and knees. Though he had practiced this exercise many times, it was still a challenge in a pressurized suit. He also couldn’t see behind him. He simply moved backward until his legs started to fall off the ledge. He positioned his boots on the second rung before standing straight up. Holding onto the railing, he radioed, “Houston, I am on the ladder, heading down.”

  “We copy that, Tom.”

  Unable to see the ladder below, Tom carefully counted off each step in his head until he was positive he was located on the last rung. He leaned over and looked down at the gold, gleaming landing pad just over three feet below his boots. The colorful, flickering foil contrasted drastically with the surrounding grays and blacks. It was as if the small, circular footpad was magically glowing, summoning him to step down and enter a new world that would change his life forever.

  Tom grinned from ear to ear, jumped enthusiastically off the ladder, and floated down onto the three-foot diameter pad. He turned and looked out at the magnificent vista that engulfed him. His excitement was amped up to an all-time high. The last time he had this feeling, he was a young child about to turn on the lights in the wee hours on Christmas morning to see his gifts. “Houston, I am ready to step off.”

  “Roger, Tom. Good luck.”

  Tom jumped off the pad and floated for a long beat before landing firmly on the moon’s surface, his boots kicking up some fine lunar dust. The small particles hovered over his space boots. “Houston, you have one happy astronaut here. The ground is covered with a few i
nches of gray dust and all is okay.”

  “Roger, Tom. Congratulations, and try not to get too dirty.”

  Tom smiled at the poignant comment, remembering how David often bitched in private about the excessive dust he had to deal with inside the Lunar Module after his spacewalks.

  Dusty chimed in with exhilaration in his voice, “All right, Tom, it’s time for me to come out and play too!”

  Tom didn’t bother answering. He was too busy hopping around having a good time. “Oh, man, this is fantastic.”

  “Closing hatch.”

  Tom skipped his way over to the equipment bay. He eagerly flipped open his wrist checklist to verify what he needed to do next. A big grin shot across his face when he saw a picture of a Playboy Bunny taped to the second page, a beautiful blonde with all the right curves. He radioed into mission control, “David, I am on page two of the checklist. Tell the backup crew that everything checks out fine. Thanks for their help.”

  A slight chuckle confirmed that his friend knew about the practical joke. “Roger, Tom, I’ll pass that on.”

  26

  LUNAR ROVER

  Tom felt every ache and pain throughout his body. Every little noise echoed in his ears. The faint sunlight squeezing through the window shade penetrated his closed eyes. Come on, Tom, get to sleep! He squeezed his eyelids tighter, which only made his mind race more. Discouraged, he popped his eyes open and stared up at the LM’s ceiling a few feet above his face. After sleeping like a baby the night before in Explorer, he was disappointed he wasn’t able to get needed shuteye during the mandatory rest period. He had gone over in his head both the schedule for their final EVA and the steps needed to steal the lunar core sample. He was mentally ready for the following day’s activities. But for some reason, his mind wouldn’t allow him to relax.

  Stripped down to his liquid-cooled undergarment, Tom struggled to get comfortable in his hammock, which hung crossways in the cabin just above Dusty’s. After long hours working in his space gloves, Tom’s hands were covered with many cuts and bruises. This made a simple task like adjusting his blanket painful.

  Frustrated, he took a large breath. Inhaling the gunpowder-like smell from the many moon rocks stored onboard was just another reminder of where he was. He wanted to scream out in frustration. He rolled over and cracked open the fiberglass window cover that darkened the cabin interior. He looked down at the sundrenched lunar surface and focused with pride on the motionless American flag. He was still amazed he was actually on the moon. He tilted his head slightly up to Earth, high in the black sky. The heartwarming sight gave him some comfort. He pulled his arm out from under the blanket and positioned it so shards of sunlight hit his Omega watch. It was almost midnight in Houston. Anne was probably already asleep. He looked back out toward the colorful ball and blew her a loving kiss. Miss you, Sweetheart. Sleep tight. I’ll be home soon.

  A whisper came from below. “Tom, are you awake?”

  Tom quickly closed the cover. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

  A bit louder, Dusty said, “No, I’ve been tossing and turning over the last hour. I just can’t get to sleep.”

  “Me neither. It’s pissing me off. I might have to take some sleeping pills.”

  Dusty let out a deep sigh. “I keep replaying our moonwalks in my head. It’s as if my mind is preventing me from getting any rest since this is our last night on the moon.”

  “Maybe that’s it.”

  “I can’t believe we’re down to our last EVA. Where did the time go?”

  “It’s because we’re so busy. Every minute is practically accounted for.”

  Dusty replied with sincerity, “Well, I bet you this will be the highlight of my life.”

  “No doubt it will be tough to top this experience. I’m sure we’ll reflect on it and dream about it for the rest of our lives.”

  Sarcastically, Dusty shot back, “You’re going to be dreaming about me, Tom?”

  To keep the humor going, Tom answered, “When that dream has the Playboy Bunny on my checklist coming to life, I’ll make sure something happens to you. Not enough room in here for the three of us.”

  “Yeah, just kick me out for another moonwalk.” After some rustling below, Dusty said, “So Anne is cool with you looking at a nude picture on the moon?”

  Tom looked up at the ceiling as he thought of Chris with his arm around Anne. He said through clenched teeth, “Absolutely. We have total trust in each other.”

  DUSTY YELLED OUT excitedly, “Whoa! Watch out for that one.”

  Tom grinned as he veered the lunar rover around the 20-inch rock, lunar dust spitting out from the bottom of the spinning wheels, getting the men even filthier. With only a 14-inch clearance for the chassis, Tom had to avoid running over big obstacles. He was doing his best imitation of Mario Andretti as he raced dizzily through the boulder field, often going airborne due to the bumpy terrain. He felt like he was riding on a bucking bronco as he tried to make up time. They were thirty-two minutes behind schedule, and every one of those precious minutes cut into the time needed at the end of the EVA to snatch the lunar material.

  Dusty sat in the right seat and was their navigator, picture taker, and tour guide for the folks back at mission control. His voice shuddered from the rough ride. “We don’t need to hit any more big rocks.”

  The electric rover had taken quite a beating over the last few days from Tom plowing over his share of moon rocks, putting some golf ball-sized holes in the wire mesh that made up the wheels’ metal tread. “Gotcha, buddy.” The more Tom drove, the more comfortable and confident he became in the machine’s ability. It was a good thing both men were strapped into their “lawn chair” seats, or one of them would have certainly been thrown out. The only thing missing in all the fun was a booming sound system blaring Beach Boys music.

  They had just finished up at their station 11 stop and were off to North Ray Crater. With their spacesuits pressurized, Tom chose not to fight the suit. He sat with his arms and legs extended in a relaxed and ballooned-out position. His only challenge was positioning his right arm and keeping it steady so he could operate the T-shaped hand controller that was located on the center console and operated the buggy. His fatigued arm had the handle shoved all the way forward as they flew over the surface at a record pace, rotating the handle left or right to avoid the fast-approaching craters and rocks.

  Dusty radioed mission control, “At our ten o’clock position there are two very bright, small craters that are three to four meters across, with some whitish material in the center. We are in a distinct boulder field, heading west.”

  Tom was so consumed with driving and making up time that he had no idea where they were. He was counting on Dusty to get them to their next location. With no reference points or distinct characteristics to stand out over the barren landscape, everything looked the same. The undisturbed gray hills and craters surrounding them looked like the hundreds they had already passed. Dusty’s map gave him the distance and heading needed to reach each destination, and the Rover’s navigation system fed him the needed data to guide him along. Unfortunately, the odometer was slightly off due to Tom’s crazy driving, making the wheels slip and go airborne.

  Dusty called out in a relieved tone, “We are almost to North Ray Crater.”

  Through all the bouncing, Tom was able to lift his sun visor to get a good look at the enormous crater they were approaching. It was by far the biggest they had seen, with a broad ejecta blanket. This was going to be a blast to explore. He quickly shut his visor and aimed for the monster.

  THE DIMLY LIT Mission Operations Control Room glowed from the vast array of lighted console monitors and flickering digital displays that fed information to the young, energetic flight controllers monitoring the Apollo 16 mission. Anne sat watching the action in the quiet, glass-enclosed VIP area. Her attention was riveted on the large bank of projection screens spread out across the front of mission control. The futuristic displays had flashing technical data along
with colorful, gleaming lines and dotted lights depicting maps and locations which made absolutely no sense to Anne. Her concentration was on the screen to the far right, which showed the live feed from the moon. Whenever the moonwalkers were in transit, the image on the screen was often of Kirk, busy in the Command Module, since the lunar rover could not transmit a TV signal while moving. Once the vehicle was parked, the screen was filled with images of the astronauts working on the moon. The voices coming from the room’s small ceiling speakers kept Anne abreast of all the action, even when her husband was joy riding on the lunar surface.

  “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

  Anne reluctantly tore her eyes from the screen to look down at her son, who was getting restless after sitting in the room for the last two hours. “Sweetheart, aren’t you enjoying listening to Daddy drive on the moon?”

  Sitting on the opposite side of Peter, Virginia interjected, “I can take him down to the cafeteria to get a little something to eat if you’d like.”

  Anne had to pull a few strings to get Virginia into mission control, and this was exactly why she had done it. After returning from the Cape, any time Anne wanted to go to mission control, Peter always begged to tag along. She was happy to take him, but it was only a matter of time before he would tucker out and ask to go home. Today Anne wanted to stay as long as possible. “That would be great, Virginia.”

  Her sister-in-law started to get up when Chris Riddick entered the sparsely filled VIP area. Without hesitation he turned down the empty row right in front of the women. Anne quickly turned away without making eye contact. Joan, sitting next to Anne, also noticed Chris walking toward them and nudged Anne’s leg. Anne turned to her friend, rolling her eyes, and looked straight ahead into the control room. As feared, Chris stopped right in front of the three ladies with his hands on his hips and said, “Hi, Anne.”

  Anne’s eyes didn’t budge as she answered in her best brush-off tone, “Hello, Mr. Riddick.”