Zero Phase
Page 6
And at last we are back in the CSM. Houston reads up a pad for us to jettison the ascent stage of the LM. Its trajectory will cause it to impact the moon in a way that will be picked up by the seismometers they left during Apollo 12. There haven’t been many opportunities for science on this mission, but we’re doing what we can.
Soon we’re closed out and Houston has given us a GO for jettison.
“The end of the age of Aquarius,” Ken says as he presses the button.
“Fare thee well,” I add, as if the LM cares what we think.
I do feel a bit sad watching it get smaller in the window. Throwing away something that was working perfectly fine for the sake of something broken. But it is time. The LM was perfect for when we needed it, and we took what we could from it, and now it’s perfectly useless.
“All right, I’ve got a TEI-21 pad for you, in case you’re interested,” Houston calls up.
Trans-Earth Injection. The instructions for the burn to get home. In case we’re interested. I chuckle.
Ken speaks: “Yeah, that might be useful.”
“Let me know when you’re ready to copy.”
“Pen in hand, Houston.”
“TEI-21, SPS G&N 34620. Minus 0.72, plus 0.08 129:18:05.29. NOUN 81: Plus 3013.3, Plus 1667.4, Minus 0340.3. Attitude: 180,000,000. NOUN 44: HA, N/A. HP, Plus 0019.0; 3460.6, 2:28, 3436.6. No sextant stars, but we will read up a pad so you can do a coarse align with earth. Ullage, 4 jets, 12 seconds. Go ahead with your readback, over.”
Ken has been scribbling furiously and now he recites it all flawlessly from his notes. Noun 81 gives the delta-v we want from the burn. Noun 44 is Apolune and Perilune. High and low points for the orbit after the burn. But of course the high point is earth.
Like all TEI burns, this has to happen on the far side. Out of radio contact. Out of sight of earth.
I suppose it’s just as well. In this business, we can’t get anything done without Houston’s help. But at the end of the day we are each on our own to meet our fate. The best anyone else can ever do is hold your hand.
Houston reads back expected times for AOS. They’ll be back in touch with us at 129:28:35 if the burn goes according to plan, and about ten minutes later if it doesn’t happen at all. (And given the fragile state of the SPS and the explosivity of the hypergolics, there is a third option. No more CSM, no AOS. But obviously there’s no point dwelling on that.)
And finally we are heading for our last LOS. We do a coarse alignment check by maneuvering the CSM so that the earth is visible through the sextant, because it’s about the only thing we’re able to see through the optics. Then another alignment check to see the earth through the commander’s window.
I suppose you might be wondering if I’m regretting anything that led to this point. If I would have done anything differently. Well, I can say whatever I want, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. Obviously I can say I’m eager to get home to my wife and kids, but it’s useless to wish I’d never left. We are here. Today’s decisions are the only ones that matter. Again, there is nothing more useless than trying to solve yesterday’s problems.
I will say that I appreciate the earth in a way that someone who’s never left it can’t fully understand. When I first saw 2001, I was baffled by the ending shots. Particularly the fetus floating in space. But I kept thinking about it. And now it makes sense. On this scale, the entire scope of human life is fragile to the point of insignificance. And yet it is also everything.
Before our orbit takes us behind the moon, we rotate the spacecraft into the proper attitude for the burn. Command module facing ahead, SPS pointing backwards. We do not see earth set behind us.
And then, alone in the dark over the far side of the moon, we wait. Everything is keyed in. We scan the electrolumescent instruments. Everything is obviously not normal, but everything is as expected. The spacecraft speeds ahead, but we have no sense of motion. The clock ticks down relentlessly. Our only proof life hasn’t stopped.
In a minute it will all be resolved. Ken is letting me do the honors. Like with the lunar descent burn in the LM, I will have to wait until the timer gets below five seconds, and the computer will flash 99, asking for confirmation, and I will tell it to go ahead. And all the hazy percentages will fall away. Will turn into ones and zeroes. We will prune all the branches from the probability tree, save one: the crooked ugly path of history.
“And we’ve had ullage,” I say, as the RCS fires to settle the propellant in its tanks. “10, 9, 8…” I call out, although only Ken and Fred can hear me.
The clock ticks down.
The numbers flash.
I press the button.
PRO. Proceed.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m tremendously grateful to Apollo 13’s commander, Captain James Lovell, USN (Ret.) for his help in the preparation of this manuscript. He was gracious enough to provide answers to several of my questions; though terse, his answers were also pithy and illuminating, and helped me better understand the types of men who went to the moon. His commentary on the finished manuscript also provided much-needed encouragement for me to take the relatively insignificant risk of getting it out there.
I’m also very indebted to Apollo 14’s Captain Edgar Mitchell, USN (Ret.), PhD, for taking time out of his schedule for a phone interview. The sixth person to walk on the moon, and the only remaining astronaut to have visited the Fra Mauro Highlands, Dr. Mitchell took the time to talk to me about something he’s been talking about for over half his life, and that in turn helped make this a more credible and convincing story.
Primary sources are history’s lifeblood, and since the six Apollo moon landings are among the most documented events in human existence, there’s an abundance of them available via NASA’s websites. However, they wouldn’t have made nearly as much sense if not for the stellar (pun intended) work done by Eric Jones and the astronauts he interviewed for the Lunar Surface Journal. This manuscript would have been nowhere near as accurate without that resource, which is invaluable for any serious student of Apollo. In addition, he was gracious enough to answer several tricky technical questions I had, to provide commentary and feedback on my first draft of the manuscript, and to catch several technical errors.
Giano Cromley is a fantastic and talented author, and it has been my great pleasure to have him as a travel companion for the physically safe (but emotionally treacherous) journey into the uncharted space of independent publishing. His feedback on this manuscript was extremely helpful, and he also caught several errors that would have been disastrously embarrassing.
Special thanks to Lauren Boegen, Digital Collections Manager at the Adler Planetarium, for obtaining permission to edit their historical photograph of Apollo 13’s cuff checklist. In the interest of historical accuracy, the original image of the actual cuff checklist is included here:
The Adler Planetarium was also very gracious in providing photographs of Jim Lovell’s LEVA helmet for my cover art.
Nick Bianco of Nick Bianco Photography did a wonderful job of editing the cover photograph.
Many thanks to Francis French for his enthusiasm and support, and for spotting what I hope was the last remaining typo.
Dr. Andrew Chaikin’s A Man on the Moon rekindled my interest in Apollo several years ago, and remains the single best book on the subject; it’s the next best thing to taking six trips to the moon. David A. Mindell’s Digital Apollo and Frank O’Brien’s The Apollo Guidance Computer: Architecture and Operation were both awesome resources on the design and behavior of Apollo’s computers. Apollo by Charles Murray and Catherine Bly Cox is perhaps the best book on the unglamorous (read non-astronaut) side of Apollo, and the hard-working and anonymous thousands who put a famous few on the lunar surface. Gene Kranz’s Failure is Not an Option also gave a much needed glimpse into the lives and work of those men and women who worked in NASA’s control rooms. Jim Lovell and Jeffrey Kluger’s Lost Moon/Apollo 13 is a gripping space adventure that also captures many techn
ical details about Apollo 13’s voyage. Dr. Edgar Mitchell’s The Way of the Explorer provided an intriguing look at his voyages, and also at his unconventional but thought-provoking dyadic model of the universe. Carrying the Fire by Michael Collins remains the best firsthand account by any of the Apollo astronauts; it’s a remarkably delightful read. (If NASA had deliberately recruited an author to ride along on a moon mission, they still couldn’t have produced a better book.) Though not about Apollo, Mike Mullane’s Riding Rockets is one of the best and most enjoyable astronaut memoirs ever written, and a great look at their mindset. Buzz Aldrin’s Magnificent Desolation was an interesting and worthwhile read, and a much-needed reminder that worldly and otherworldly triumph isn’t the end-all be-all of life. Into that Silent Sea and In the Shadow of the Moon by Francis French and Colin Burgess were both great and compelling books about the early years of space exploration. Francis French and Al Worden’s Falling to Earth was also a very worthwhile contribution to the Apollo literature. Thomas Kelly’s Moon Lander details the Lunar Module’s construction and sophisticated engineering, as well as the trials and tribulations of those who turned that engineering into reality. And the anonymous contributors to Wikipedia continue to ensure that their site remains a handy quick and generally very reliable reference, at least on matters like this.
Last, but by far not least, Octavia and Genesis continue to be the best family anyone could ask for; they make all my voyages far less appealing, and my returns home far more enjoyable.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mr. Brennan earned a B.S. in European History from the United States Military Academy at West Point and an M.S. in Journalism from Columbia University in New York. His writing has appeared in the Chicago Tribune, The Good Men Project, and Innerview Magazine; he's also been a frequent contributor and co-editor at Back to Print and The Deadline. He resides in Chicago.
ABOUT TORTOISE BOOKS
Slow and steady wins in the end, but the book industry often focuses on the fast-seller. Tortoise Books is dedicated to finding and promoting quality authors who haven’t yet found a niche in the marketplace—writers producing memorable and engaging works that will stand the test of time.
Other titles include:
Resistance
The Last Good Halloween
Ninety-Seven to Three
Project Genesis
Public Loneliness: Yuri Gagarin’s Circumlunar Flight
The Dark Will End The Dark (Upcoming)