Luke’s voice carried to Michael through the communications lines. “Find anything new in there?”
Michael looked over, slightly sheepish. “Never too late to review.”
In truth, Luke was happy to see it. Michael had the lion’s share of the piloting to do after launch. They’d be heading immediately for Almaz, and Chad would be busy getting Luke and his suit and gear ready for the spacewalk. This was the first spaceflight for all of them and the pressure was intense to do things right.
Chad’s voice cut in. “How are you boys doing?”
Luke leaned forward and twisted his suit so he could see Chad in his recliner. “No leaks, Boss.” As the technician put the last of Luke’s checklists and safety equipment into his suit’s pockets, he added, “We must be getting close.”
“Same here, Chad,” Michael said, raising a thumb. “My suit fits like a glove.”
“Especially the gloves,” Luke joked.
The suit techs stepped back next to the consoles, their work complete. JW donned a headset and made one last assessment of medical status with each crewmember, while a NASA photographer walked around and took a few photos.
Al Shepard’s voice came over the comms. “You gentlemen ready to go see your spaceship?”
Three hands immediately came up, thumbs raised.
“Right. Time to go get us a launch.”
The ride to the pad was nine miles through palmetto scrub and a cluster of oversized rocket assembly buildings. As the van lumbered smoothly along the coral pavement, Chad spotted a bald eagle through his window. It swooped low along the road, spread its wings wide and landed in a large nest, high in a longleaf pine.
Like home, he thought. He’d loved watching birds on the farm, envying their effortless grace in flight. It was part of the reason he’d joined the Air Force; that and to prove himself, to make his parents proud. And now he was on his way to take his place among the greats. He looked down at his white pressure suit, a satisfied smile curling his lips. I’m going to leave my footprints on the Moon.
Al Shepard’s voice broke in on his thoughts.
“Gentlemen, if I may.” Al raised his hand to get everyone’s attention. “It’s time for the Astronaut’s Prayer.”
Chad had never heard of this, and from the expressions on his crewmembers’ faces, they hadn’t either.
His expression serious, Al looked each one of them intently in the eye, and then bowed his head. “Lord, please don’t let these men fuck up.” He raised his head, smirking, and they all joined him on the “Amen.”
It was a joke, but it was also sincere.
The van slowed to a stop next to the Launch Control Center, a long, four-story white building. Al got up and shook hands with Chad and the other crew, wishing them luck, as did JW and Kaz, and then they all climbed out. They’d watch the launch through the fourth-floor windows of the LCC and then fly immediately back to Texas on a NASA Gulfstream jet to be in Mission Control in time for the rendezvous with Almaz. Chad was happy to see them go. It was his show now.
As the van pulled back out onto the road, the suit tech waved his hand to get their attention, and pointed forward. He knew what the view was about to be and wanted to be sure these men didn’t miss it.
The van rounded the curve, and suddenly Chad could see the launch pad. Still three miles away, yet clearly visible high above the flood plain, the Saturn V rocket was like some ancient Egyptian monument to the gods, standing proudly next to Launch Pad 39A’s gantry tower, gleaming white in the morning sunshine.
Their rocket. His rocket.
“Look at that!” Michael said in wonder, his voice muffled by the helmet.
The reality of it struck Chad like a face slap. No more simulations. It was time to show the world who he was.
The van rolled through the open gates at the base of the pad, and the driver downshifted to climb the long, sloping grade up to the rocket. The launch area was crisscrossed with train tracks and metal plates, and the van vibrated as it drove over them. The driver swung wide, stopped and then backed close to the tall gantry. He set the brake, climbed down, walked around and opened the wide rear door, facing the elevator that would take the crew up to the capsule atop the rocket.
Michael clambered out first, and the driver held out his hand.
“Boarding pass?” he demanded sternly. His face broke into a wide grin at the look on Michael’s face, and he reached forward to shake his gloved hand. “Have a great flight, sir!”
He repeated the gag for Luke, who laughed obligingly. Chad stepped down, shook the man’s hand and then leaned back so he could stare upwards along the full length of the Saturn V. The monstrous rocket was crackling and venting with the super-chilled oxygen being pumped into its tanks. An enormous, brooding dragon, about to belch fire and hurl itself up off the pad, into the blue of the Florida sky.