After the lunar night had ended, they waited several more days because Gabdul insisted that the Sun be high in the sky to minimize long shadows, and so its glare wouldn’t shine into the cameras.
On the simulation field, Gabdul had backed Lunokhod into position and practiced on the approach track countless times: he set the precise distance using camera views, knew to move the hand controller for exactly the right length of time and then give a full reversing input just before letting go. These maneuvers had proven to give the most impulse to the rock while minimizing the chances of damage.
It had taken patience, but today was finally the day.
Sitting at his console, Gabdul leaned forward, steadying his arm. He looked at his navigator, who nodded. The image on the screen showed they were exactly in position. Gabdul mouthed a quiet countdown. “Tree, dva, adeen, pusk!”
He smoothly moved his hand controller forward to its limit, held it firmly while counting in his head, swiftly brought it fully back into reverse and then released it. All eyes locked onto the small TV screen, waiting for the slow image refresh to show them what had happened.
The 10 seconds seemed interminable, as Gabdul muttered “Davai, davai!” under his breath—C’mon, c’mon!
The grainy screen flickered impassively to its new image. It showed nothing remarkable—just the soil beyond the stone and a bit of the horizon. But it was exactly what they’d simulated, with everything still level, nothing visibly wrong. Gabdul glanced at his systems technician, who had been worriedly scanning his updated data.
“Pa paryadkeh,” he said at last. All seems in order.
Gabdul nodded, and smoothly pulled back on the controller, commanding Lunokhod to reverse enough for the cameras to reveal the result of their work. He counted rhythmically to three and released again. If all worked as in the simulation, it would show Ugol’s new position; if it had moved, they should be able to detect it against the surrounding dirt.
The lead scientist had been standing back, but now she grabbed the back of Gabdul’s chair and leaned in to look as the new image popped onto the monitor. She’d printed the previous screenshot, and held it up to compare the two side by side. Her eyes flicked back and forth, left and right, scanning for differences.
The new tire track was obvious. Where there had been undisturbed dust, now there was a darker waffle print, the soil kicked up from the sudden momentum reversal. Gabdul touched the edge of the stone on the paper and then the same point on the screen. “I think it moved!” he said, delighted.
The scientist leaned closer, inspecting where he’d pointed. Ugol’s edge had been smooth against the dust, but now, in the bright sunlight, there was a darker stripe where they met.
“I think you’re right, Gabdul. Ugol has shifted!”
She stepped back and straightened up, crossing her arms. So Ugol was not a solid part of a radioactive outcropping. This puzzling lump of a rock was not attached to a mother lode. She focused again on the screen, one hand on her chin, a fingertip tapping her high cheekbone. How did you get to this place, little one? Did a heavy impact excavate you from deep in the Moon and chuck you up onto the surface? Are there more like you just below the surface?
It was a planetary geologist’s dream. What are you, Ugol, where did you come from, and what can you teach us about the universe?
33
Mission Control, Houston
It was shift change, and the number of people in Mission Control had doubled. Each console was overcrowded as the oncoming crew listened to the details of what had happened, making notes and asking questions, so they could seamlessly take over responsibility. An Apollo mission was like a nine-day multi-person relay race where no one could let the baton of technical information and decision-making drop.
Kaz was briefing the oncoming shift CAPCOM. The State Depart-ment Field Office had provided a Russian interpreter, who stood calmly beside them, absorbing all the new jargon.
Just before his shift went off headset, Gene Kranz spoke.
“People, that was a helluva day. You worked through many serious problems, some unprecedented in the history of manned spaceflight.” He made eye contact with each console.
“We’ve got the tragedy to deal with, as well as the complexity of handling a new, non-English-speaking foreign crewmember. But the bottom line is we had a successful launch and have a resting crew, a healthy spaceship and a clear mission.”
“The real work is just beginning. Get some sleep. See you back here in”—he checked his watch—“fifteen hours.”
Kaz had given the U-Joint a long look as he drove home, but the idea of the noisy bar hadn’t appealed to him, especially knowing that another astronaut from the Apollo 18 crew would soon be joining Tom on the honor wall. He’d stopped at the grocery for supplies instead. He wanted a stretch and an easy run, a quiet beer and a bite, and maybe some time with Laura. He turned up and into his Polly Ranch driveway, parked and glanced at his watch as he got out and closed the car door. She’d said she’d try to come over after the long drive back from Florida, maybe get in around eight.