Space Hoax (Hoax Trilogy Book 2)

by Paul Gillebaard

  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 on
e-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?”