Paul Gillebaard: Moon Hoax

The astronauts lucked out that China’s landing site was in the sunlight and not too far off their orbital plane. With some minor adjustments to their spacecraft’s position, Peter was able to take pictures of their site after pinpointing the location from the transmission received from the laser. The pictures were not as close as the pictures taken of the American site, but they were still close enough to tell the equipment left was not America’s. When Peter looked at those pictures on the computer he could see small red squares on some of the equipment he was sure were Chinese flag insignias. He hoped NASA had the technology to magnify the picture to verify, providing even better evidence.

Now with the early pictures passed on, there was not much left for the astronauts to do until they started preparing for Peter’s spacewalk less than ten hours away. All that was required were the periodic boosts needed to keep the spacecraft in orbit.

As Peter stared out the window, it started to sink in he had less than fifteen hours to live. He started reviewing some of the highlights of his life, realizing how wonderful it was. He wasn’t ready to die but accepted his fate. He was proud of the success they had achieved so far on the mission.

Viktor suddenly said, “I say we get drunk?”

Peter couldn’t get drunk, not with a spacewalk coming up, but Viktor could. He figured he could join the old man with a few shots. “Sure, let’s go for it.”

“Well, I been sipping already.”

With all the crap stuffed all around, Peter couldn’t see Viktor squeezing globs of the liquid into his mouth. He just smiled; the old man had every right to get a little tipsy. Viktor’s hand protruded through the stowage, holding the bottle. Peter grabbed the container and noticed there wasn’t much vodka left. “I guess you’re feeling pretty good over there.”

“I not complain. I feel good,” said Viktor with a slight slur in his words.

Peter smiled and squeezed a blob of the liquid into his mouth.

Viktor said, “I like you, Peter. I wish you marry Anya. I would be proud you be son.”

Peter, smiling at Viktor’s forwardness, handed the bottle back. “Thanks, Viktor, that means a lot. Falling for Anya made it tough for me to go on this mission. She is very special. I think we would have made a happy couple.”

Viktor bluntly blurted, “You know, we be dead soon.”

Neither astronaut had talked about dying. Peter had pushed it to the back of his mind. But now that Viktor was a little inebriated he seemed ready to face it, and they only had a short time left.

“You seem comfortable with it. I’m not. I’m proud we’re proving Dad walked on the moon and China wrong, it’s just that I’m not ready to die.”

“You too young to die. I wish you not die and marry my daughter and have babies. But I ready. I miss Maria.”

Peter had always been impressed with Viktor’s happy demeanor, no matter what. Ever since he was a kid, he always knew Viktor as someone who was happy and joking. “Viktor you always seem so happy, why?”

“I lucky man, and I marry right woman. I have much be thankful for—why be sad or mad? These emotions waste energy,” Viktor said matter-of-factly.

Peter looked out the window. He was lucky in life, but unfortunately didn’t find the right woman until it was too late.

Viktor said, “Thank you for picking me for mission. I reach my dream of going to moon. The first cosmonaut to circle moon. Yay!”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks for helping restore my father’s name. You definitely paid back your debt to Dad, with interest,” said Peter.

“Tom was good man. I not fly in space if not for him.”

Dmitri called over the radio, “Maria 1, this is Mission Control.”

Peter answered. “We read you, Dmitri, over.”

“Peter, I have Anya here. She was hoping to talk with you, over.”

Peter was eager to talk with Anya—perfect timing. “Wonderful.”

There was a moment of silence before Anya said, “Hello, Peter.”

“Hey, baby, how are you?”

“Good. Everything going okay?”

Viktor jumped in. “Everything’s all good now, solnyshko. We have party.”

Anya chuckled. “Hi, Dad. Sounds like you two are having a good time. I miss you both.”

Viktor answered, “I miss you too, dear.”

“Dad, is it okay if I talk to Peter for a moment?”

Viktor said, “Sure. I talk with you later.”

“Thanks, Dad. I love you.”

“I love you too, over,” said Viktor as he took off his headset and placed it on his lap.

Peter knew his partner could probably still hear Anya through his headset. “So what is it, babe?”

Anya’s melodic voice soothed his ear. “Last night I stepped outside the control room for awhile to get away and be alone. I looked up at the moon to feel a little closer to you both. But as I looked I realized after tomorrow, whenever I see the moon it will always haunt me, knowing your’s and Dad’s bodies will be up there. It will always be a constant reminder of what I lost.”

What could Peter say—he understood what she was losing. Trying to comfort her, he said, “I wish it didn’t have to end this way. I wish we were coming home after this mission.”

There was a silence over the radio before Anya said, “I have something important to tell you.”

“Sure, what is it?” Again the radio was silent, so he said, “Anya, go ahead, over.”

“Peter, I’m…” suddenly Anya cut the transmission.

Peter, wondering what happened was getting ready to say something before he heard her reconnect.

“I’m pregnant.”

Wow. “Sorry, could you please repeat?”

“I’m pregnant, over,” said Anya more sternly.

Viktor cheered something in Russian, indicating he obviously heard. Peter shook his head to clear it. Something like this was the furthest thing from his mind. He didn’t know what to say. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I confirmed it yesterday.”

Hesitantly, he asked, “How are you handling it?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice small. “I wanted to tell you and see how you felt.”

Peter sat stunned. How did he feel? He felt a sudden sinking sensation, thinking he wasn’t ever going to see his child or watch it grow up. He thought back on how important his dad was in his life. Despondently he said, “I wish I was there… to hold you. I think it’s great news. You’ll be a great mother.” Thinking he might be a little presumptuous, he asked, “You are going to have it, right?”

Her voice grew strong again. “Yes. But I wanted to make sure you approve.”

Peter searched for something positive to say. “Absolutely! Hey, my mom will finally have a grandchild. She has been bugging me for years. It will make it easier for her dealing with my death.”

“Peter, I love you. I wish you could be a part of this family. I know you would be a great father.”

Peter started to tear up, thinking of how important both his parents were in his life. He hated thinking of his child growing up without a father. “Anya, know I will always be a part of this family. I will always be there, watching over the two of you.”

“That means a lot to me, but I wish you could be here in person, not just in spirit.”

“Me too.”

For the first time, Peter questioned if he made a mistake going on the mission.

Peter’s heart started beating fast as he nervously took the cyanide capsule out from its case, wondering if he would actually take it. Mesmerized, he stared at the poison between his fingers. The tiny vial symbolized death. He had been trained how to use cyanide during his years with the CIA, and had even been dispensed some on several missions in case he was ever captured. Each time he brushed off the possibility of ever taking it, knowing his ability and skill would always pull him through. As he carefully rolled the capsule between his fingers, he wondered if his confidence was arrogance, or a denial of having to face death. He turned and looked out his window; there was no denying what was ahead of him now. He was going to die. The question was, how? Would it be with this capsule, or would he choose to suffocate? It was an answer he didn’t know, and wouldn’t until the time came.