The digital timer hit zero, and there was a metallic bang as the docking mechanism and tunnel released.
“Bulldog’s away, Houston.” Michael pulled back smoothly on the controller, hearing his maneuvering thrusters fire, watching through the window as the LM slowly receded. He released the knob, satisfied.
“Copy, Pursuit.” Kaz left a small pause. “She was a good ship.”
Chad was at his window, watching Bulldog against the blackness. “Sure was, Houston. You drive her gentle now.”
The specialists in Mission Control were uplinking commands, ready to fire the small thrusters on Bulldog to steer it deliberately towards a controlled crash into the Moon. The force of the impact would echo through the solid rock and be picked up by seismic sensors installed during previous Apollo missions, mapping the shape of the inner mantle and core of the Moon.
Svetlana watched the two men as they stared out the windows, They’re so different. She smiled wryly to herself. Like black and white.
She had vacuumed the spacesuits as Chad held them out for transfer, but had felt nothing in his suit’s pockets. He’d sent her out of the LM before he finished collecting the last items, and had brought them all in one larger transfer bag, stowing it in a locker under the headrest of the left seat. The rock has to be in there.
She heard the voice from Houston again.
“Pursuit, when you’re ready, I’ve got your coming-home PAD to read up to you.”
Both men pulled themselves reluctantly from the window and peeled checklists off of Velcro, grabbing their floating tethered pencils.
Pursuit was Michael’s ship, but Chad wanted to re-establish who was in command now that Bulldog was no longer attached. He was the one to respond. “Go ahead, Houston, Pursuit is ready to copy.”
Kaz took a breath. “Okay, it’s TEI-74, SPS G&N, weight 35768, plus 0.57, plus 0.88 . . .” As he carefully voiced the data, he pictured what each word meant, making sure it made sense to him. A mistake of even one digit or decimal place could be fatal. Pursuit was going to orbit back around behind the Moon, and, out of communication with Earth, the crew was going to point the ship in exactly the right direction for the big engine to fire. At precisely the right moment it would ignite and burn for 141 seconds; without the weight of the LM, that’s all it would take to escape the Moon’s gravity. By the time Pursuit reappeared, it would already be arcing high above the lunar surface, racing home.
He finished calling up the numbers. “Standing by for the readback, over.”
Chad motioned with his chin at Michael to respond, and floated back to look out the window. Bulldog was rapidly becoming too small to see, soon to be just another memory, another vehicle that he had piloted well. Another event in his past.
He glanced up at the Earth. The past didn’t matter. His future was three days away.
He felt a surge of confidence course through him. He just had to play his cards right. And he had a winning hand.
EARTHBOUND
54
Pursuit
Michael was looking forward out the windows at the Earth as Pursuit slowly turned in the sunlight. Svetlana was dozing, loosely strapped to her couch.
“Hey, Boss.”
“What?” Chad looked up from the emergency entry procedures he was reading. The pages were pale red, highlighting their criticality.
“Did you ever think that since we fired Pursuit’s engine for the Trans-Earth Injection, we’ve really just been falling? Like a rock dropped from an enormous height, accelerating as Earth’s gravity sucks us in, closer and closer?” There was awe in his voice.
Chad looked at him. “Nope.”
Michael shrugged. “I just think it’s cool.”
Chad went back to his checklist. Really? That’s what he’s thinking about?
Kaz’s voice crackled in his headset. “Pursuit, I’ve got your mid-course numbers when you’re ready.”
The huge antennas at Goldstone had been precisely tracking the spaceship, calculating exactly where it would enter the Earth’s atmosphere; now the engineers in Houston wanted a small engine firing to adjust the trajectory a tiny bit.
Chad peeled Michael’s headset off the console and held it out to him. “Houston’s calling with mid-course data.”
Michael grabbed a checklist and pushed the mic button. “Go ahead, Houston.” Kaz read up the information, and Michael eased himself into the center seat to type in the data.
Kaz continued. “While I’ve got you, Michael, we’d like an updated stowage inventory so the guys here can finalize your center of mass for entry.”