“I bless you, and God is watching over you to make a safe return, my dear brother. Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and forever. Amen.”
Chelomei released the mic button and nodded at the interpreter, satisfied. That would do. He waved them back towards their seats, then pushed the mic button again. “You’ll hear from us again officially via Houston while you’re outside.” He quickly reviewed whether he’d said all he wanted.
Enough. “Vsyo,” he transmitted.
——
Chad was holding her gaze, his face unreadable.
She was incredulous. “Ti—ti gavorisch pa russki!” You—you speak Russian!
He gave no response, and his expression didn’t change. He picked up his checklist, turned away and went back to working procedures.
Svetlana felt like she was falling. What just happened? She was sure the first voice she’d heard had been Director Chelomei’s. How had he contacted them, and why couldn’t they respond?
Was this astronaut a spy? If he was, then why were they threatening him with his brother?
Treat this like any emergency, she told herself. I’m a test pilot, dammit! What do I know, and what should my actions be?
She pictured how the comm system must work, imagining what her people must have built to intercept it. She glanced through the overhead window at the Earth to confirm that Russia was facing them—it was, just turning out of sight on the darkened side of the planet. She realized that they could listen to Moscow, but could not reply directly or the Americans would overhear them.
The small solution calmed her. She was gaining some control.
But how did Chad come to speak Russian? Had they taught him that in America? Not likely, given that he had a pious Russian brother who had called him Yuri.
He was still ignoring her, behaving as if nothing had happened, unclipping from his restraint cable and methodically retrieving items to get ready for the moonwalk. It was clear that he wasn’t going to explain himself. That meant she had to find a path through this alone. Not giving away Chelomei’s secrets, and scheming a way to do what he had just asked. Svetlana unclipped from her own restraint cable and looked around the unfamiliar landing ship, sizing up her options.
She was going to have to count on this astronaut. But she’d been right not to trust him.
——
Kaz took a sip of coffee. Years as a fighter test pilot had taught him to pay attention to the smallest, most insignificant breaks in any routine or expected course of action. Why had he heard a double click again? Michael was behind the Moon, so it wasn’t him bumping the mic. It had to be coming from Bulldog on the surface. Could the cosmonaut be trying to get their attention? Did Soviets double-click? If it was Chad, why would he do that?
He squinted to moisten his eye; the air-conditioned air was so dry his eyelid was sticking. As he blinked to clear it, he looked up at the timer: two hours until hatch opening. The Security Council would meet shortly after that. He put down his cup and picked up the checklist. Forget mic clicks for now. I need to be prepared.
He glanced up as JW passed him, heading for the Flight Director console, and he stood to listen in. JW spoke quietly to the two of them. “A few minutes ago, for no reason I could see, both Chad’s and Svetlana’s heart rates spiked. Like something happened that surprised them both. Hers, especially—I saw a hundred and forty beats per minute. Yet per the timeline and after checking with other consoles, they were just standing there, doing a comm check with us, setting switches.”
Gene took a deep pull on his cigarette, considering, and then stubbed it out in the full ashtray on his console. “Struggling to take their helmets off, maybe?”
JW shook his head. “We compared to previous flights, and it doesn’t match. Plus, it was simultaneous. Like they both suddenly saw or heard something they weren’t expecting.” He paused. “We did hear the cosmonaut cough, but Chad called down about that.”
Gene picked up his copy of the checklist, running his nicotine-stained finger down the timeline, finding nothing. He looked at Kaz. “Any ideas?”
“I wasn’t going to mention it, but I also heard a double click from them around that time. I assumed one of them bumped the switch.”
Gene paused, thinking. “How do their heart rates look now, Doc?”
“Hers is higher than it was, but acceptable. Chad’s is back to normal.”
“What do you recommend?”
“Nothing for now, FLIGHT. There’s probably some simple answer. But it was out of the ordinary and I thought you should know.”