Paul Gillebaard - USSR Hoax

If Tom could not make it back into the ship for whatever reason, Sam had orders to cut Tom loose. The commander did not have an umbilical cord of his own to attempt a rescue. NASA felt one astronaut returning home was better than none. The grim possibility of Sam closing the hatch and leaving Tom to die in space was never discussed between the two friends. It was just an accepted risk that came with the job.

A devil seemed to be standing on one of Tom’s shoulders, trying to convince him to fly the machine. On the other shoulder was an angel, trying to stop him. The devil made a valiant effort, pointing out how hard Tom had worked to get to this point and how the feat would help his career. The angel simply said, think of your wife and son.

“Sw…ch fl… in ten sec…”

“Roger, switch flipped in ten seconds.” Tom shook his head, clearing the angels from his mind. It was time to focus. He convinced himself he was doing the right thing. The love for his family was strong, but he had a job to do.

ANNE NOVAK CLOSED the curtains of her master bedroom to prevent any reporters from seeing up inside the second floor room. Though most of the media were stationed on the front lawn waiting for her to step out and make a statement, some occasionally walked around the perimeter of the home, peering over the fence. The sun still penetrated through the closed sheer curtains, lighting up the room. She turned to her dresser drawers, reaching for an ashtray, lighter, and a pack of cigarettes. She caught a quick glance of herself in the dresser mirror, clad in her best cocktail dress with her hair up in her favorite bouffant hairstyle. Being new among the astronaut wives, she felt the pressure of trying to look glamorous for the press. Without it ever being said, it was understood that the NASA bigwigs expected the astronauts’ wives to look and act a certain way when speaking to the media. Their husbands’ futures depended on this perfect image, regardless if it was a facade.

Anne walked over and sat down on the side of her bed next to her baby who was lying calmly, propped up against a pillow. She set the ashtray on the opposite side and pulled out a cigarette. Her son’s eyes widened as he reached out his arms at the sight of the red plastic-wrapped pack. She smiled as she handed it to him. She had switched brands because Peter liked the red pack. He grabbed it eagerly and began sucking on it. Anne lit up the cigarette and eagerly inhaled a lungful of the velvet smoke, holding it in for a while before releasing a cloud of tension.

Anne needed this quiet moment away from the crowd downstairs. The home was packed with family and friends who were all watching the live news reports of Tom’s spacewalk on the black and white television set. With her bedroom door closed, she had turned up the volume of the futuristic squawk box that NASA had installed so she could keep track of the mission. All the communications between mission control and Tom’s Gemini spacecraft were being piped into the Nassau Bay home. As long as the speaker crackled with voices, she knew everything was okay. If the transmission was ever cut off, then there was trouble.

Another speaker was located in the living room. Though the voices came through scratchy, she could still make out most of what was being said. She always left the volume turned up on all the boxes, even through the night, allowing her to always hear Tom’s voice. Though she didn’t understand much of the technical jargon being used, she could always tell how Tom was doing by the tone of his voice.

Hearing her husband struggling over the last forty-five minutes during his spacewalk had made her nervous. She could hear in Tom’s voice that he was exhausted, yet he still had to fly the AMU jet pack. She worried he might push himself too far and get into trouble. She knew how important the space program was to him, and no way would he quit voluntarily in the middle of a spacewalk, no matter how dire the situation. The only way Tom’s EVA would be cut short was if NASA insisted on it, and even then, she wondered.

Anne took another deep drag as she lovingly rubbed Peter’s belly. After exhaling the cloud of smoke away from her son, she turned to look into Peter’s blue eyes. “We need to make certain your daddy doesn’t do anything silly. We want him to make it back into his spacecraft safely so he can come back home to us.”

A knock on the door broke Anne’s attention. She called out, “Yes?”

A soft voice came through the closed door. “Hey Anne, it’s Virginia. I was just checking in to find out if you’re okay.”

Virginia was Tom’s little sister. Anne had gotten to know her better over the last few days. She found the thirty-one-year-old brunette to be a warm, down-to-earth Southern girl. Anne put out the cigarette in the ashtray. “Come on in, Virginia.”

Virginia slowly cracked opened the door before hesitantly sticking her head in. “Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you need some time alone.”

Anne leaned over the bed, setting the ashtray on her nightstand before turning down the volume on the squawk box, softening the voices coming out. “No, it’s fine, come on in.”

Virginia gradually walked over, sitting close to Anne. “I was a little worried something might be wrong since you weren’t downstairs.”

“I just needed to get away.” Anne looked over toward the squawk box. “I’m a little worried about Tom.” Feeling comfortable with Virginia, she opened up. “There seemed to be some uneasiness in his voice, which is making me a little nervous.”

Virginia patted Anne’s leg. “You don’t have to worry about my brother. He won’t do anything stupid.”

Anne smiled. “I’m afraid he might overexert himself, possibly push himself too far.”

“With the sensors NASA has all over his body, they’re very aware of how he’s doing physically. If they have any worries, he’ll be ordered back in.”

“Think he’ll listen?”

Virginia reached over and turned up the speaker sound. “Because of you and Peter, he will.”

A surge of excitement shot through Tom as his commander fired the pyrotechnics, shearing the bolt that held the AMU jet pack to the Gemini spacecraft. The desperately needed second wind Tom was hoping for was kicking in. He floated anxiously in the recessed area of the adapter section ready to fly the expensive military toy. He felt like a trapped bird suddenly set free. With the sunlight beginning to glint from behind the ship, he confidently flipped down his sun visor. Time to earn your paycheck, Tom. He lightly pushed off the ship’s foot rail and gradually floated away from the back end of the spacecraft. His gloved hands were securely wrapped around the control knobs stationed at the end of each extended mechanical arm. With intense concentration, he focused through the dime-sized clearing on his faceplate. Having never trained with such a restricted view, he had his work cut out for him. It was time to show what kind of a pilot he was.

To make sure he didn’t get disoriented because of his fogged visor, Tom kept a constant visual of his spacecraft through the small peephole. Even though he was attached to a tether, he could still end up flying aimlessly around in circles hunting for the ship if he ever lost track of it.

“Al…ay…om.”

Fed up with struggling to decipher what Sam was saying, Tom needed to get around from the back end of the ship. Before he could do that, however, his instructions were to first test the controls of the AMU to verify all the thrusters functioned as designed. “AMU released. Will do status checks.”

Tom sailed through all the translational characteristics of the machine. He felt like a little kid with a new toy as the jet pack rolled, yawed sideways and pitched end over end. The AMU performed perfectly. Satisfied with the checks, Tom flew along the side of the ship toward the front end. His orders were to do all his flying in full view of Sam so the commander could keep mission control abreast of exactly how the test was going.