The long, pyramid-like rectangular base of the monument was emblazoned with bold Soviet heroic figures in bas-relief, their muscular arms and stalwart male and female faces all pointing towards a cosmonaut in his spacesuit, climbing steps towards the heavens.
“Yuri Alekseyevich Gagarin. First man in space,” Alexander said, pointing to the cosmonaut.
The monk stared at Gagarin’s sculpted face, and then followed the majestic sweep of the titanium statue towards the sky. He blinked at the brightness.
“It’s magnificent.” He turned to look at the interpreter. “Sascha, I’m excited to talk to my brother. Do we know yet when it will happen?”
“Tomorrow, Father.” Alexander explained that they needed to wait until the Moon was visible in the sky, so the signal would be able to get there and back from the Russian antennas. And tomorrow was also the day his brother would walk on the Moon. Tonight they would stay in quarters near TsUP Mission Control.
Tomorrow would be the biggest of days.
40
Office of the Chief Designer, Moscow
“Allo? Allo?”
Chelomei scowled, holding the receiver against his ear. We can fly in space, but why can’t we Soviets make phones that work?
A series of static-filled clicks came through the line.
The information that Major Miller had transmitted down from Apollo had confirmed what he’d suspected. Somehow the Americans had precise information on the Lunokhod rover’s location on the Moon, and had made it their landing target. The clear purpose of this US military lunar landing was glaringly revealed.
The question was why. They couldn’t know about the lunar geology team’s discoveries. They were too recent; the American ship’s trajectory had to have been set several weeks in advance for crew training and launch timing. But they had intercepted Almaz with sabotage weapons in hand. Clearly this was the same thing: they wanted to see anything Lunokhod might have discovered, inspect the rover up close and then disable it. To stop Soviet progress on the Moon’s surface.
The briefing he’d received on the most recent discovery significantly upped the stakes. It wasn’t just lunar knowledge and Soviet technology they could now steal. A naturally occurring radioactive source on the Moon—if it was the right kind—meant many things, including power, and heat. It could enable the fundamental technology that would spur lunar settlement. And the knowledge had to remain the Soviet Union’s alone.
He needed to protect what Lunokhod had found. Having a cosmonaut on the surface added tremendous leverage, and options. But he urgently needed details from the rover operations team in Simferopol, which is why he waited so impatiently on the phone.
Finally, a thin voice sounded in his earpiece. “Simferopol Luna Ops Command. Allo?”
“Director Chelomei here. Who is this?”
Gabdul sat bolt upright, stammering slightly. “S-S-Senior Lieutenant Gabdulkhai Latypov, Director. I’m the shift lead currently on console, primary Lunokhod operator, seconded from the Soviet Air Forces.” Stop babbling! “And lead of the team that installed the Apollo uplink voice capability.” Credentials were important. With his technical communications background, he’d been key in making the uplink voice work.
“Latypov, good.” Chelomei had heard the name during the antenna modifications. “I have new information, and I need your team to be ready.”
He quickly summarized the Apollo landing details, leaving out the fact that there would be a cosmonaut on the surface too. No need to overburden the rover drivers. “They’ll be on the surface within twenty-four hours. How can Lunokhod best protect itself and what it has found?”
Gabdul was dumfounded that the director was asking his advice. His mind whirled as he considered options.
“Comrade Director, we have made fresh tracks all around Ugol—that’s what we have named the rock. It will be obvious that we’ve been investigating it. Perhaps we could bury it with one of the probes? Or maybe push it into the nearby rille? Also, we need to protect Lunok-hod itself.”
An idea struck him and he quickly explained it.
Chelomei considered, and decided the plan was good for a couple of reasons. “Make ready to do it, Lieutenant Latypov. TsUP will be working closely with you tomorrow while the Americans are on the surface.”
As Chelomei hung up, he glanced at his watch. The American, Esdale, should be going to sleep soon. He needed to brief Miller and Gromova, but he knew from the transmissions that they weren’t keeping her on headset.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his thumb and middle finger, his head aching with all the moving pieces and the lack of sleep. He stood and left his office, headed for TsUP.