Paul Gillebaard - USSR Hoax

Tom wanted to jump for joy at that. “So no more flying around the country?”

“Well, not as a manager.”

“Great.”

Dick’s voice became intense. “One more thing. I was instructed we should stop asking questions on what you found earlier in the year back at Michoud.”

Tom cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes. Though I didn’t get any answers on what the strange markings were, it was conveyed to me that it was not a big deal. So just drop it.”

Perplexed by the request, Tom rubbed his hands along the side of his pants. Was this why he was being taken out of management? He answered cautiously, “Okay.”

With a piercing gaze, Dick leaned in. “Also, do you have any other pictures of that part? I need to have them all.”

Tom slowly fell back in his seat. That seemed like an odd question to ask, especially if the parts were no big deal. No one knew he had the extra photos, and he was positive he could keep them a secret. Though he was taking another risk of losing his shot to the moon, his gut told him to keep quiet about their existence. “Nope, those were all the pictures I took.”

“Good.”

THE WHITE HOUSE was quiet on a late Thursday afternoon as Lee Collins got the go-ahead to enter the Oval Office. The executive secretary assumed most of the White House personnel had left early to beat the November snowstorm predicted to hit shortly after sunset. Even though it meant Lee might get caught in the nasty weather, he waited, glad for the opportunity to pass on good news regarding the space race. The president had been dealing with congress over the devastating Apollo 1 fire for months and needed something positive regarding America’s space program. The successful launch of the first fully outfitted Saturn V unmanned moon rocket was exactly what the president would want to hear about.

After knocking lightly, Lee slowly poked his head into the office. “Good afternoon, sir.”

The president looked up from his paperwork. “Hey, Lee. What can I do for you?”

Lee took one small step. “Sir, I just stopped by to pass on some good news.”

As he leaned back in his chair, the president’s eyes relaxed. “I could use good news. What is it?”

“Apollo 4 was a success today. It just passed the all-up test with flying colors.”

After a brief hand clap, the president, now upbeat, said, “That is great to hear. Good job.” He leaned forward, putting his arms on his desk. “Sounds like the F-1 engines did their job. I guess our little treaty deal worked.”

The president had never been told the full details of the final arrangement made with the Soviets. Lee felt it best not to divulge that the deal also included NASA secretly passing over sacred lunar material from two future Apollo missions. If the transaction ever leaked out to the press, Lee would be the fall guy, not the president, preserving the good man’s legacy. The president was only told Moscow agreed to pass over the parts if the U.S. signed the moon treaty. “Yes, sir, it did.”

With a flash of joy, the president put both hands flat on his desk. “Now do you think we can beat the Soviets to the moon?”

“I think we have an excellent chance, sir. We are close to implementing all the command module design changes that where put in place because of the fire. Once final testing is done on the CM, we should be back on schedule. I think we just might make Kennedy’s deadline.”

“Good. Keep me abreast of any further news.” The president looked back down at his paperwork, this time with a big smile on his face.

“Yes, sir.” Lee proudly exited, glad he had chanced getting caught in the snowstorm in order to deliver the upbeat news.

1969

The Holiday Inn lounge was packed with locals and celebrating tourists visiting Cocoa Beach for the Apollo 10 launch, scheduled to happen later that weekend. After Tom had dinner with David and a few other astronauts, the group decided to check out the hotel bar, have a few nightcaps and listen to live music. Tom suspected they would probably get plastered and end up stumbling back to their rooms. It had been a tough week, and he was ready to completely unwind. Their only responsibility for the weekend was to hobnob with some VIPs and observe the launch, which they all could do with a hangover. Tom debated if he should call Anne before having too much to drink. Since it was already late on Friday night, he decided to hold off until the morning.

Earlier that day Tom and the other astronauts had flown to Cape Canaveral in T-38s. After landing, he was medically cleared to visit with his former commander, who would command Apollo 10, to wish him good luck. Sam was under quarantine in the crew quarters, and as expected, was as calm as ever. Tom saw that his friend bestowed no sign he would soon be strapped into the biggest and mightiest rocket ever built, destined for only the second trip ever to the moon. Sam even joked that his mission was just one big tease, since their objective was to get within eight miles of the lunar surface before turning around and coming back home. The mission Sam really wanted was the one he was certain Tom would get, one of the future Apollo moon landing flights. Tom appreciated his friend’s endorsement, though Tom still questioned his own chances.

It had been almost two years since Tom’s private meeting with Dick after the first Apollo crews were announced. Back then, his boss had promised he would be put on a future mission. That never happened and Tom had no idea why. Whenever he probed his boss, Dick always answered the same way, saying Tom would probably get on the next one. After missing out on the last assignment, Tom had finally had enough. The constant letdowns were too much to handle and he was going to quit. Before submitting his resignation, he discussed his decision with Anne, who immediately set him straight. She pointed out that the man she married would never give up. She still believed he was one of NASA’s finest.

Though it was tough seeing less-deserving astronauts get seats before him, Tom set his bruised ego aside and stuck it out, continuing to give his best effort for the space program. But he would quit on the spot if Chris Riddick got a seat before him, especially after the man’s divorce took him out of favor with Dick.

David nudged Tom’s arm, and said over the loud music, “Check out that blonde over there in the white go-go boots.”

Tom peered over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his scotch. The sight blew him away. The twenty-something girl looked amazing as she sexily swayed her body to the mellow music, her head cocked backward with her eyes closed, lost in the song. She danced alone behind a group of women sitting at the bar who were oblivious to their dancing friend. This blonde beauty was dressed in a rainbow-colored, psychedelic mini-dress that clung tightly to her shapely body, her sleeves flaring out under her extended arms. A bright-colored headband scarf flowed perfectly through her blonde curls. Those shiny white boots traveled high up her bare legs to just below her knees. All the astronauts, including Tom, agreed with David’s assessment—this lady was hot.

David followed up his comment with enthusiasm. “That’s a girl I could have fun with.”

Though he’d said it in a joking way, Tom knew David was serious. Ever since he started getting press for being on a crew that would rotate onto a moon mission, David had changed. The whole stardom thing was going to his head, and he began messing around on Joan, which put Tom in a tough spot, trying to keep the secret from Anne.

David wasn’t the only astronaut having an affair. Many were. Astronauts were like rock stars whenever they visited a town, especially Cocoa Beach. The space town had become a big playground for the men. Many lobbied for an assignment in the area just so they could be free from home and enjoy the swinging nightlife. Some even had apartments with mistresses living in them. Dick allowed the indiscretions as long as the press never got wind of it. The veterans dubbed these ladies “Cape Cookies.” The temptation was tough to resist, even for Tom. He lusted after attractive women just as much as the next guy. But he never acted on the desire. He had too much to lose with Anne. The last thing he wanted was to mess up things with her.