Chad shrugged. She’d figure it out. He opened the storage locker and got her one of each.
She turned them over in her hands, nodding as she compared them to the similar Soviet equipment. Muzhshini! Men!
She floated to the far corner, turned away from Chad and started to peel off her coveralls.
“Oh, hey, hey!” he objected. “I don’t need to watch you crap!” He turned and faced the port wall and went back to revising the landing checklist. “Try not to stink up the place.”
Svetlana paused and looked around. One astronaut was in the LM and the other was now deliberately not watching her. The control panel of switches was in front of her. She made a mental note. An excellent way to get privacy.
She might need it.
31
Mission Control, Houston
EECOM had been looking at the effect of the sunlight on the side of the ship in the direct glare of the Sun, and temperatures were nearing peak allowable. The standard plan to deal with it was to slowly spin the ship once every 20 minutes, like a slow-motion barbecue spit. With all the problems, they had delayed starting the spin. “FLIGHT,” he said, “before the crew goes to sleep, we need to set up rotisserie mode.”
Gene asked, “INCO, what’ll that do to my comms?”
“FLIGHT, the Hi-Gain antenna won’t track as well while we spin, so it’ll drift in and out.” INCO peered over his console. “We can stop and start the spin when we need to talk, if FDO agrees.”
The Flight Dynamics Officer checked a data table on his screen. “It’ll use a bit more propellant, but our margins are good.”
The astronauts’ official sleep period wasn’t for several hours yet, but they’d had to get up at 3:00 a.m. for the early-morning launch. The timeline called for a 90-minute nap, and Gene knew after the craziness of the flight so far, as their adrenaline ebbed, they’d need it. A thought occurred to him, and he waved Kaz up to his console. Al Shepard came around to listen.
“How should we handle sleep now?” Gene looked at Al. “Do you think one of them needs to stay awake to keep an eye on the Russian?”
“Absolutely,” Al said. “I sure don’t want a Commie floating around unsupervised inside our ship.”
“I suggest a new sleep rotation cycle, Gene,” Kaz offered. “Chad needs to be well rested for his moonwalk. That’s our top priority. I expect the cosmonaut is on Moscow time, nine hours ahead, so she’ll likely be ready for some shuteye about now too.”
Gene nodded. “Let’s keep Chad on the planned day/night schedule and move Michael to cover while Chad sleeps.”
Kaz said, “I suggest Bulldog as the astronaut sleep area, so they get peace and quiet. The cosmonaut can just unplug her comms and sleep in Pursuit with whoever’s awake.”
Gene pushed his mic button. “EECOM, you’re approved to set up Passive Thermal Control.” He looked back at Kaz. “Let the crew know the new plan.”
Kaz nodded and returned to the CAPCOM console, Al and Gene watching him. As a Navy pilot, Al was always ready to take a dig at the other armed services, and Gene was Air Force. He smiled and raised an eyebrow.
“Not bad for a one-eyed sailor.”
“Sleep? How the hell do they expect me to go to sleep?”
Chad had listened to Kaz’s instructions and was now looking at the new pencil marks he’d made in the Flight Plan. “I’m sure it sounds nice to them, sipping their coffees there in Houston, but it’s nuts! How am I going to rest easy with Luke’s corpse floating next to me and her running around?”
Svetlana glanced at him, frowning slightly at what might have caused his obvious anger. The interpreter hadn’t translated the lengthy conversation the two Americans had just had with Houston.
By now Michael was used to Chad’s temper. “No choice, Boss. It just makes sense. We’ve got to have you in tip-top form for hopping around on the Moon, especially when you’ll be babysitting her. I’ll have lots of time to catch up on my beauty sleep once I get the two of you undocked.”
Svetlana looked from one to the other, and back again.
Chad said, “Yeah, okay.” But the anger was still clear on his face. “You need any help getting us spinning?”
Michael held his nose to talk. “This is your captain speaking. I’ll be putting the plane in rockabye mode for your sleeping pleasure. Please pull down the window shades and have a good rest, travelers. When you wake up, the stewardess”—he stuck out a thumb at Svetlana—“will be ready to serve you a delicious vacuum-packed meal. Sweet dreams, and we’ll be there before you know it.”