Straining, Chad spoke. “Doing okay, Houston, just tripped and fell. Luke is on his way.” As he alligatored his way up the slope, Svetlana moved back, keeping the line taut.
Kaz nodded at the chaplain to give the final benediction, and bowed his head.
“O God, by whose mercy the faithful departed find rest, send your holy Angel to watch over this distant grave,” the chaplain said. “Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
Ceremony complete, Kaz shook hands with Parham and thanked him. The chaplain turned to shake hands with Gene Kranz and the doctor, and carefully walked down the steps and out the door.
Kaz squinted again at the front screen, seeing one figure standing and the other rocking to get up off their hands and knees.
“Apollo 18, the final step is the folding of the flag. Per protocol request from the Joint Chiefs, we’ll be asking you to bring it back with you to be given to Luke’s parents.”
Chad shifted forward onto his hands, and then abruptly moved his weight back, bouncing to his feet, staggering a couple steps as he regained his balance. Svetlana unclipped the tether from her suit and threw it dismissively towards him, then turned her back.
The flag was lying where she’d dropped it. Chad coiled and stowed the tethers, picked up the flag and held it high as he folded it so the TV camera could see.
No need for them to know what just happened.
“Houston, we lowered Luke’s body carefully over the edge and into the deep. I’ve folded his flag and am stowing it now.”
“Copy, Chad, thanks. Geology would like you both to retrieve as many samples from around the hole as possible, to verify their theories on how it formed. Please take multiple images too.” Kaz turned to the interpreter, who repeated the plan for Svetlana.
“Roger, Houston, in work.” Chad looked down at the camera mounted on his chest, glad to see it was still in place, and brushed the dirt off. He handed the cosmonaut a soil collection bag and a scoop, and started his narration.
“The soil around the hole looks quite similar to the surrounding terrain, with no visible ejecta or ridges indicating impact.” He took the rake and starting filling a bag, turning and clicking pictures as he moved. Collecting the rocks reminded him of being a kid on the farm, picking the stones the winter’s frost had brought to the surface and moving them to the fencerows. Less back-breaking on the Moon, though.
As he worked, he realized that after this was done, there was only one task remaining on the surface.
He had to admit the sudden tumble towards the pit had startled him. But he’d anticipated it might happen, hooking the linked tether to the woman just in case. His own ingenuity had saved the day, as usual. Houston hadn’t had any real plan to get Luke’s body into the pit; they’d all counted on him to solve it. And, as usual, he had.
He glanced at Bulldog and the Soviet rover, and then at the cosmonaut, filling a bag with her scoop. He looked up to the Earth—Russia had rotated out of sight—and glanced at his wristwatch, strapped around the bulk of his pressurized sleeve. Still lots of time.
Time for him to do what they’d really come for.
49
Le Monnier Crater
The Soviet engineers had built Lunokhod to survive the Moon’s temperature extremes. All the important and sensitive gear was protected like vital organs, safely nestled within the pressurized, insulated magnesium-alloy body. During the glaring sunlight of lunar day, a small fan blew cooling air up under a flat radiator at the top. With the protective lid and solar array pivoted open, the excess heat was shed to space. At nightfall, the lid swung closed over the radiator to keep the heat within, like a flower closing its petals. Inside, a small lump of radioactive polonium-210 provided warmth, the way a hot-water bottle warmed a bed. Awaiting the dawn.
Engineers at the RAND Corporation in Santa Monica had prepared a summary of Lunokhod systems that the DoD had analyzed for vulnerabilities. As Chad walked back towards Bulldog, trailing the handcart laden with bagged samples, he weighed the options they’d given him for disabling it. But really, it was up to him to figure it out. With a damned female cosmonaut watching over his shoulder.
While she’d been collecting the samples near the hole, he’d taken the bolt cutters out of the bag and strapped them down out of sight. Now, eyeing Lunokhod, another idea for disabling it occurred to him.
He turned around and waved at the cosmonaut. When he got her attention, he pointed up the ladder into Bulldog. He then motioned with both hands as if he was lifting the bag of rocks.
Svetlana considered. Helping to collect samples had made sense, because it gave her practical scientific experience to bring back to the cosmonaut program. She also figured that if she helped, the Soviet Union would have some leverage to demand a share of the lunar rocks and dirt.